MiM
/ **4r..A
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
GIFT OF
Peter Scott
V"
'
FREDERICK AND THE COUNTESS.
FREDERICK THE GREAT
AND HIS FAMILY
f ietorital
BY
L. MUHLBACH
AUTHOR OP JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT, FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS COURT,
BERLIN AND SASS-SOUCI, THE MERCHANT OF BERLIN, ETC.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY
MRS. CHAPMAN COLEMAN AND HER DAUGHTERS
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY
NEW YORK AND LONDON
1907
COPYRIGHT, 1867, 1898,
Br D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
COOTEOTS.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER FAOK
I. The King, 1
II. Prince Henry 4
HI. Louise von Kleist, 8
IV. At the Masked Ball 12
V. A Secret Captain, 18
VI. The Legacy of Von Trenck, Colonel of the Pandours, . 21
VII. The King and Weingarten .29
VIII. The Unwilling Bridegroom 32
IX. The First Disappointment, ..... 38
X. The Conquered 46
XI. The Travelling Musicians, .... 52
XII. Travelling Adventures, 56
XIII. The Drag- Boat. ........ 63
XFV. In Amsterdam, 63
XV. The King without Shoes, 74
BOOK II.
I. The Unhappy News, . 88
n. Trenck on his Way to Prison 93
III. Prince Henry and His Wife, 103
IV. The Fete in the Woods Ill
V. Intrigues, 119
VI. The Private Audience, 125
VII. The Traitor 129
VIII. Declaration of War 136
IX. The King and his Brothers, ...... 140
X. The Laurel- Branch, 145
XI. The Ball at Count Bruin's, 147
XII. The Interrupted Feast, .155
XIII. The Archives at Dresden, 161
XIV. Saxony Humiliated. 168
2227653
iv CONTENTS.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER PAGK
I. The Maiden of Brunen, 172
II. News of Battle, ..... ... 177
III. The Certificate of Enlistment, ...... 181
IV. Farewell to the Village, 188
V. The Prisoner 194
VI. The Prison Barricade, 203
VII. The Battle of Collin, 205
VTLL The Inimical Brothers, 211
IX. The Letters, 221
X. In the Castle at Dresden, 225
XI. The Te Deum 232
XII. Camp Scene, 236
XIII. The Watch- Fire 242
XTV. The Battle of Leuthen 248
XV. Winter Quarters in Breslau 255
XVL The Broken Heart, 262
BOOK IV.
I. The King and his Old and New Enemies, . . . 268
II. The Three Officers, 273
III. Ranuzi 277
IV. Louise du Trouffle, 287
V. The Fortune-Teller, .293
VI. A Court Day in Berlin, . 302
VII. In the Window-Niche 311
fill. The Nutshells behind the Fauteuil of the Queen, . . 314
IX. The Duel and its Consequences, 319
X. The Five Couriers, 324
XI. After the Battle 331
XII. A Heroic Soul, 337
XIII. The Two Grenadiers, 342
XIV. The Right Counsel, 346
XV. A Hero in Misfortune 356
BOOK V.
I. The Teresiani and the Prussiani, ..... 361
n. Frederick the Great as a Saint 366
III. The Cloister Brothers of San Giovanni e Paolo, . . 371
CONTENTS. V
CHAPTER PAGE
IV. The Return from the Army 381
V. The Brave Fathers and the Cowardly Sons, . . . 388
VI. The Traitor's Betrayal 39.1
VII. The Accusation, ... .... 400
VIII. Revenge 408
IX. Trenck 413
X. "Trenck, are you there?" 417
XI. The King and the German Scholar, .... 423
XII. Gellert 432
XIII. The Poet and the King, 439
XIV. The King and the Village Magistrate, . . . .445
XV. The Proposal of Marriage, 448
XVI. The Ambassador and the Khan of Tartary, . . . 457
BOOK VI.
I. The King's Return, 468
n. Prince Henry, 477
m. Mother and Daughter, 482
IV. The King in Sans-Souci, 493
V. The Engraved Cup, 501
VI. The Princess and the Diplomatist, 508
VII. The Royar House- Spy, 514
VHI. The Clouds Gather, 518
IX. Brother and Sister, 525
X. The Stolen Child 532
XI. The Discovery, . . . . . . .540
XII. The Morning at Sans-Souci, 546
XIII. A Husband's Revenge, 557
XIV, The Separation, 664
ILLUSTRATIONS.
FACING
PAGB
Frederick and the Countess frontispiece
Baron Trenck in Prison 196
The Interview in Frederick's Tent after the Defeat .... 216
Frederick and the Two Grenadiers 842
The Jeweller and Princess Amelie , ... 504
FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY,
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
THE KINO.
THE king laid his flute aside, and with his hands folded behind
his back, walked thoughtfully up and down his room in Sans-Souci.
His countenance was now tranquil, his brow cloudless ; with the
aid of music he had harmonized his soul, and the anger and dis-
pleasure he had so shortly before felt were soothed by the melodious
notes of his flute.
The king was no longer angry, but melancholy, and the smile
that played on his lip was so resigned and painful that the brave
Marquis d' Argens would have wept had he seen it, and the stinging
jest of Voltaire have been silenced.
But neither the marquis nor Voltaire, nor any of his friends were
at present in Potsdam. D'Argens was in France, with his young
wife, Barbe Cochois ; Voltaire, after a succession of difficulties and
quarrels, had departed forever ; General Rothenberg had also departed
to a land from which no one returns he was dead 1 My lord mar-
shal had returned to Scotland, Algarotti to Italy, and Bastiani still
held his office in Breslau. Sans-Souci, that had been heretofore the
seat of joy and laughing wit Sans-Souci was now still and lonely ;
youth, beauty, and gladness had forsaken it forever ; earnestness
and duty had taken their place, and reigned in majesty within those
walls that had so often echoed with the happy laugh and sparkling
jest of the king's friends and contemporaries.
Frederick thought of this, as with folded hands he walked up
and down, and recalled the past. Sunk in deep thought, he re-
mained standing before a picture that hung on the wall above his
secretary, which represented Barbarina in the fascinating costume
of a shepherdess, as he had seen her for the first time ten years ago ;
it had been painted by Pesne for the king. What recollections,
1
2 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
what dreams arose before the king's soul as he gazed at that bewitch-
ing and lovely face ; at those soft, melting eyes, whose glance had
once made him so happy ! But that was long ago ; it had passed like
a sunbeam on a rainy day, it had been long buried in clouds. These
remembrances warmed the king's heart as he now stood so solitary
and loveless before this picture ; and he confessed to that sweet
image, once so fondly loved, what he had never admitted to himself,
that his heart was very lonely.
But these painful recollections, these sad thoughts, did not last.
The king roused himself from those dangerous dreams, and on leav-
ing the picture cast upon it almost a look of hatred.
" This is folly, " he said ; " I will to work. "
He approached the secretary, and seized the sealed letters and
packets that were lying there. "A letter and packet from the
queen," he said, wonderingly opening the letter first. Casting a
hasty glance through it, a mocking smile crossed his face. " She
sends me a French translation of a prayer-book, " he said, shrugging
his shoulders. " Poor queen ! her heart is not yet dead, though, by
Heaven ! it has suffered enough. "
He threw the letter carelessly aside, without glancing at the
book ; its sad, pleading prayer was but an echo of the thoughts
trembling in her heart.
" Bagatelles ! nothing more, " he murmured, after reading the
other letters and laying them aside. He then rang hastily, and
bade the servant send Baron Pollnitz to him as soon as he appeared
in the audience- chamber.
A few minutes later the door opened, and the old, wrinkled,
sweetly smiling face of the undaunted courtier appeared.
"Approach," said the king, advancing a few steps to meet him.
"Do you bring me his submission? Does my brother Heniy
acknowledge that it is vain to defy my power?"
Pollnitz shrugged his shoulders. " Sire, " he said, sighing, " his
highness will not understand that a prince must have no heart. He
still continues in his disobedience, and declares that no man should
marry a woman without loving her ; that he would be contemptible
and cowardly to allow himself to be forced to do what should be the
free choice of his own heart. "
Pollnitz had spoken with downcast eyes and respectful counte-
nance ; he appeared not to notice that the king reddened and his
eyes burned with anger.
"Ah! my brother dared to say that?" cried the king. "He has
the Utopian thought to believe that he can defy my wishes. Tell
him he is mistaken ; he must submit to me as I had to submit to my
father."
THE KING. 3
"He gives that as an example why he will not yield. He be-
lieves a forced marriage can never be a happy one ; that your majesty
had not only made yourself unhappy by your marriage, but also
your queen, and that there was not a lady in the land who would
exchange places with your wife. "
The king glanced piercingly at Pollnitz. "Do you know it
would have been better had you forgotten a few of my wise brother's
words?"
" Your majesty commanded me to tell you faithfully every word
the prince said. "
" And you are too much a man of truth and obedience, too little
of a courtier, not to be frank and faithful. Is it not so? Ah!
vraiment, I know you, and I know very well that you are playing a
double game. But I warn you not to follow the promptings of your
wicked heart. I desire my brother to marry, do you hear? I will
it, and you, the grand chamberlain, Baron Pollnitz, shall feel my
anger if he does not consent. "
"And if he does?" said Pollnitz, in his laughing, shameless man-
ner ; " if I persuade the prince to submit to your wishes, what recom-
pense shall I receive ?"
" On the day of their betrothal, I will raise your income five hun-
dred crowns, and pay your debts. "
"Ah, sire, in what a pitiable dilemma you are placing me!
Your majesty wishes Prince Henry to engage himself as soon as
possible, and I must now wish it to be as late as possible. "
"And why?"
" Because I must hasten to make as many debts as possible, that
your majesty may pay them. "
" You are and will remain an unmitigated fool ; old age will not
even cure you, " said the king, smiling. " But speak, do you think
my brother may be brought to reason ?"
Pollnitz shrugged his shoulders, gave a sly smile, but was silent.
" You do not answer me. Is my brother in love? and has he con-
fided in you?"
" Sire, I believe the prince is in love from ennui alone, but he
swears it is his first love. "
" That is an oath that is repeated to each lady-love ; I am not
afraid of it, " said the king, smiling " Who is the enchantress that
has heard his first loving vows? She is doubtless a fairy a goddess
of beauty."
"Yes, sire, she is young and beautiful, and declares it is also her
first love, so no one can doubt its purity ; no one understands love as
well as this fair lady ; no other than Madame von Kleist, who, as
your majesty remembers, was lately divorced from her husband. "
4: FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" And is now free to love again, as it appears, " said the king,
with a mocking smile. "But the beautiful Louise von Schwerin
is a dangerous, daring woman, and we must check her clever plans
in the bud. If she desires to be loved by my brother, she possesses
knowledge, beauty, and experience to gain her point and to lead
him into all manner of follies. This affair must be brought quickly
to a close, and Prince Hemy acknowledged to be the prince royal."
" Prince Henry goes this evening to Berlin to attend a feast given
by the Prince of Prussia, " whispered Pollnitz.
"Ah! it is true the prince's arrest ceases at six o'clock, but he
will not forget that he needs permission to leave Potsdam. "
" He will forget it, sire. "
The king walked up and down in silence, and his countenance
assumed an angry and threatening appearance. "This struggle
must be brought to a close, and that speedily. My brother must
submit to my authority. Go and watch his movements ; as soon
as he leaves, come to me. "
Long after Pollnitz had left him, the king paced his chamber in
deep thought. " Poor Henry ! I dare not sympathize with you ; you
are a king's son that means a slave to your position. Why has
Providence given hearts to kings as to other men? Why do we
thirst so for love? as the intoxicating drink is always denied us,
and we dare not drink it even when offered by the most bewitching
enchantress !"
Involuntarily his eye rested upon the beautiful picture of Barba-
rina. But he would have no pity with himself, as he dared not
show mercy to his brother. Seizing the silver bell, he rang it hastily.
" Take that picture from the wall, and carry it immediately to
the inspector, and tell him to hang it in the picture-gallery, " said
Frederick.
He looked on quietly as the servant took the picture down and
carried it from the room, then sighed and gazed long at the plane
where it had hung.
" Empty and cold ! The last token of my youth is gone ! I am
now the king, and, with God's blessing, will be the father of my
people."
CHAPTER II.
PRINCE HENRY.
PRINCE HENRY sat quiet and motionless in his lonely room ; dark
thoughts seemed to trouble him ; his brow was clouded, his lips
compressed. Had you not known him, you would have taken him
PRINCE HENRY. 5
for the king, BO great was the resemblance of the two brothers ; but
it was only an outward resemblance. The prince had not the spir-
itual expression, his eyes had not the passionate fire, his face (beau-
tiful as it was) wanted the fascinating geniality, the sparkling
inspiration, that at all times lighted the king's countenance like a
sunbeam.
The prince possessed a greater mind, a clearer understanding,
but he wanted soul and poetic feeling, and allowed himself at times
to ridicule his brother's poetic efforts. The king, knowing this, was
inclined to regard the shortcomings of the prince as a determined
contempt and resistance to his command ; and as the prince became
more reckless and more indifferent, he became more severe and
harsh. Thus the struggle commenced that had existed for some
time between the two brothers.
For the last four days the prince had been in arrest for disobeying
orders, but the hour of his release was approaching, and he awaited
it with impatience.
The bell of the nearest church had just announced the hour of
six. The door opened immediately, and an officer, in the name of
the king, pronounced his arrest at an end.
The prince answered with a low bow, and remained seated,
pointing haughtily to the door ; but as the officer left him he arose
and paced hastily to and fro.
" He treats me like a school-boy, " he murmured ; " but I shall
show him that I have a will of my own ! I will not be intimidated
I will not submit ; and if the king does not cease to annoy me, if
he continues to forget that I am not a slave, but son and brother of
a king, no motives shall restrain me, and I also will forget, as he
does, that I am a prince, and remember only that I am a free,
responsible man. He wishes me to marry, and therefore has me
followed, and surrounds me with spies. He wishes to force me to
marry. Well, I will marry, but I will choose my own wife !"
The prince had just made this resolve, when the door opened,
and the servant announced that Messrs. Kalkreuth and Kaphengst
awaited his commands.
He bade them enter, and advancing smilingly gave them his hand.
" Welcome I welcome !" he said ; " the cage is open, and I may
enjoy a little air and sunshine ; let us not delay to make use of this
opportunity. Our horses shall be saddled. "
" They are already saddled, prince, " said Baron Kalkreuth. " I
have ordered them to the court, and as soon as it is dark we will
mount them."
"What ! is it not best that we should mount before my door and
ride openly away?" said the prince, wonderingly.
6 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" It is my opinion that is the best plan, " cried Baron Kaphengst,
laughing gayly. " Every one will believe your highness to be simply
taking a ride, while curiosity would be raised if we left the city on
foot."
"I think leaving in the dark, and on foot, looks as if I were
afraid, " said the prince, thoughtfully.
" Secrecy is good for priests and old women, but not for us, " cried
Kaphengst.
"Secrecy suits all who wish to do wrong," said Kalkreuth,
earnestly.
The prince glanced hastily at him. " You believe, then, we are
about to do wrong?"
" I dare not speak of your highness, but we two are certainly
doing wrong ; we are about to commit an act of insubordination.
But still, my prince, I am ready to do so, as your highness wishes
us to accompany you. "
The prince did not answer, but stepped to the window, and looked
out thoughtfully and silently. In a few moments he returned, look-
ing calm and resolute.
" Kalkreuth is right we were going to do wrong, and we must
avoid it. I shall write to the king, and ask leave for you and myself
to go to Berlin. "
"That is, unfortunately, impossible, " said a sweet voice behind
him, and as the prince turned he saw the smiling face of Pollnitz.
" I beg pardon, your highness, for having entered unannounced, but
you allowed me to come at this hour and give you an account of the
commissions you gave me. "
" Why do you say it is impossible to obtain leave of the king to-
day?" asked Henry, hastily.
" Because his majesty is already in the concert-saloon, and your
highness knows that he has strictly forbidden any one to disturb him
there."
"We shall, then, have to give up our plan and remain here,"
said the prince.
Kaphengst glanced angrily and threateningly at his friend.
"And why should your highness do this?" asked Pollnitz, aston-
ished. " All your preparations are made, all your commands fulfilled.
I have procured your costumes ; no one will recognize you, and if
they should, would not dare to betray you to the king. Only two
persons know that you are to visit the ball, the Prince of Prussia,
and a lovely lady, whose beautiful eyes were misty with tears when
I delivered her your message. ' Tell the prince, ' she murmured, in
a tender voice, ' I will await him there, even if I knew the king
would crush me with his anger. '"
PRINCE HENRY. 7
The prince blushed with joy. " And you say it is impossible for
me to see the king?"
"Impossible, my prince. "
" Well, we will have to renounce it, " said the prince, sighing.
" Renounce seeing the king, yes ! for he will not leave his rooms
in Sans-Souci to-day."
" Then we would be entirely safe ; he would not notice our depar-
ture, " said Kaphengst, quickly.
" Entirely safe, '' said Pollnitz.
" That is, if Baron Pollnitz does not himself inform the king, "
said Baron Kalkreuth, whose quick, clear glance rested upon the
smiling face of the courtier, and appeared to read his inmost
thoughts.
Baron Pollnitz cast a suspicious and angry glance at Kalkreuth.
" I did not know that borrowing money from you gave you the right
to speak rudely to me 1"
" Silence ! gentlemen, " cried the prince, who, until now, had
stood quietly struggling with his own wishes. " Take your cloaks
and let us walk. Did you not say that horses were awaiting us at
the door, Baron Kalkreuth ?"
" I said so, your highness. "
" And you Pollnitz? Did you not say that three costumes awaited
us in Berlin?"
" Yes, your highness. "
" Well, then, " said the prince, smiling, " we must not allow the
horses and costumes to await us any longer. Come, gentlemen, we
will ride to Berlin. "
" Really it was hard to get him off, " murmured Pollnitz, as he
regained the street, and saw the three young men fading in the dis-
tance. " The good prince had quite a dutiful emotion ; if the king
only knew it, he would forgive him all, and renounce the idea
of his marriage. But that would not suit me my debts would
not be paid ! I must not tell the king of his brother's inward
struggle. "
"Well!" said the king, as Pollnitz entered, "has my brother
really gone to Berlin?"
"Yes, your majesty, and accompanied by the two Messieurs "
" Silence !" cried the king, hastily ; " I do not wish to know their
names, I should have to punish them also. He has then gone, and
without any hesitation, any reluctance?"
"Yes, sire, without hesitation. He thinks he has the right to
go where he pleases, and to amuse himself as he can. "
"Order the carriage, Pollnitz," said the king. "Without doubt
my brother has taken the shortest road to Berlin?"
8 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Yes, sire."
" Then there is no danger of our meeting them and being recog-
nized ; and as we have relays on the road, we will reach Berlin be-
fore them. "
CHAPTER III.
LOUISE VON KLEIST.
MADAME VON KLEIST was alone in her boudoir. She had just
completed her toilet, and was viewing herself with considerable
pleasure in a large Venetian glass. She had reason to be pleased.
The costume of an odalisque became her wonderfully ; suited her
luxuriant beauty, her large, dreamy blue eyes, her full red lips, her
slender, swaying form. At twenty-eight, Louise von Kleist was
still a sparkling beauty ; the many trials and sorrows she had passed
through had not scattered the roses from her cheek, nor banished
youth from her heart.
Louise von Kleist resembled greatly the little Louise von
Schwerin of earlier days the little dreamer who found it romantic
to love a gardener, and was quite ready to flee with him to a para-
dise of love. The king's watchfulness saved her from this romantic
folly, and gave her another husband. This unhappy match was
now at an end. Louise was again free. She still felt in her heart
tsome of the wild love of romance and adventure of the little Louise ;
she was the same daring, dreamy, impressible Louise, only now she
was less innocent. The little coquette from instinct was changed
into a coquette from knowledge.
She stood before the glass and surveyed once more her appear-
ance ; then acknowledged with a pleased smile that she was beauti-
ful enough to fascinate all men, to arouse in all hearts a painful
longing.
" But I shall love no one but the prince, " she said, " and when
my power over him is sufficient to induce him to marry me, I shall
reward him by my faith, and entire submission to his wishes. Oh !
I shall be a virtuous wife, a true and faithful mother ; and my
lovely little Camilla shall find in her mother a good and noble ex-
ample. I shall promise this to my angel with my farewell kiss ; and
then to the ball !"
She entered the next chamber, and stood at her child's bed.
What a strange sight ! This woman, in a fantastic, luxuriant cos-
tume, bending over the cot of the little girl, with such tender, pious
looks, with folded hands, and soft, murmuring lips, uttering a
prayer or holy wish 1
LOUISE VON KLEIST. 9
" How beautiful she is !" murmured Louise, not dreaming that
her own beauty at this moment beamed with touching splendor
that mother love had changed the alluring coquette into an adorable
saint " how beautiful she is !"
The gay, ringing laughter of her daughter interrupted her ; the
child opened her large black eyes, and looked amused.
" You naughty child, you were not asleep, " said Louise.
" No, mamma, I was not asleep ; I was playing comedy. "
"Ah! and who taught you to play comedy, you silly child?"
said Louise, tenderly.
The child looked earnestly before her for a few moments as chil-
dren are wont to do when a question surprises them.
"I believe, mamma," she said, slowly "I believe I learned it
from you. "
"From me, Camilla? When have you seen me act?"
" Oh, very often, " she cried, laughing. " Just a few days ago,
mamma, don't you remember when we were laughing and talking
so merrily together, Prince Henry was announced, and you sent me
into the next room, but the door was open, and I saw very well that
you made a sad face, and I heard the prince ask you how you were,
and you answered, 'I am sick, your highness, and how could it be
otherwise, as I am always sad or weeping?' Now, mother, was not
that acting?"
Louise did not answer. Breathing heavily, she laid her hand
upon her heart, for she felt a strange sorrow and indescribable fear.
Camilla continued, "Oh! and I saw how tenderly the prince
looked at you ; how he kissed you, and said you were as lovely as an
angel. Oh, mamma, I too shall be beautiful, and beloved by a
prince !"
" To be beautiful, darling, you must be good and virtuous, " said
the fair odalisque, earnestly.
Little Camilla arose in her bed ; the white gown fell from her
shoulders and exposed her soft childish form, her brown ringlets
curled down her neck and lost themselves in her lace-covered dress.
The chandelier that hung from the ceiling lighted her lovely face,
and made the gold and silver embroidered robes and jewels of her
mother sparkle brilliantly.
At this moment, as with folded arms she glanced up at her
mother, she looked like an angel, but she had already dangerous
and earthly thoughts in her heart.
" Mamma, " she said, " why should I be virtuous, when you are
notV"
Louise trembled, and looked terrified at her daughter. "Who
told you I was not virtuous?"
10 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"My poor, dear papa told me when he was here the last time.
Oh, he told me a great deal, mamma ! He told, " continued the
child, with a sly smile, " how you loved a beautiful gardener, and
ran off with him, and how he, at the command of the king, married
you and saved you from shame ; and he said you were not at all
grateful, but had often betrayed and deceived him, and, because he
was so unhappy with you, he drank so much wine to forget his
sorrow. Oh, mamma, you don't know how poor papa cried as he
told me all this, and besought me not to become like you, but to be
good, that every one might love and respect me !"
Whilst Camilla spoke, her mother had sunk slowly, as if crushed,
to the floor ; and, with her face buried in the child's bed, sobbed
aloud.
"Don't cry, mamma," said Camilla, pleadingly; "believe me,
I will not do as papa says, and I will not be so stupid as to live in a
small town, where it is so still and lonesome. "
As her mother still wept, Camilla continued, as if to quiet her :
" I shall be like you, mamma ; indeed, I will. Oh, you should but
see how I watch you, and notice how you smile at all the gentlemen,
what soft eyes you make, and then again, how cold and proud you
are, and then look at them so tenderly ! Oh, I have noticed all, and
I shall do just the same, and I will run away with a gardener, but
I will not let papa catch me no, not I. "
"Hush, child, hush!" cried the mother, rising, pale and trem-
bling, from her knees ; "you must become a good and virtuous girl,
and never run away with a man. Forget what your bad father has
told you ; you know he hates me, and has told you all these false-
hoods to make you do the same. "
" Mamma, can you swear that it is not true?"
" Yes, my child, I can swear it. "
"You did not run off with a gardener?"
" No, my child. Have I not told you that a virtuous girl never
runs away ?"
"You did not make papa unhappy, and, being his wife, love
other men?"
" No, my daughter. "
" Mamma, " said the child, after a long pause, " can you give me
your right hand, and swear you did not?"
Louise hesitated a moment ; a cold shiver ran through her, she
felt as if she was about to perjure herself ; but as she looked into the
beautiful face of her child, whose eyes were fixed on her with a
strange expression, she overcame her unwillingness.
" Here is my hand I swear that all your father told you is false !"
Camilla laughed gleefully. "Oh, mamma, I have caught you:
LOUISE VON KLEIST. H
you always want me to tell the truth, and never give my right hand
when a thing is not true, and now you have done it yourself."
" What have I done 1" said the mother, trembling.
"You gave me your right hand, and swore that all papa told me
was false; and I say it is true, and you have sworn falsely."
"Why do you believe that, Camilla ?" she asked.
"I don't believe it, I know it," said the child, with a sly smile,
"When papa spoke to you, for the last time, and told you good-by
forever, he told you the same he had told me. Oh! I was there and
heard all; you did not see me slip into the room and hide behind
the fire-place. Papa told you that you had been the cause of all his
unhappiness and shame ; that from the day you had run off with the
gardener and he, at the king's command, went after you, and mar-
ried you from that day, he had been a lost man, and when he said
that, you cried, but did not tell him, as you told me, that it was not
true."
Louise did not answer. This last taunt had crushed her heart,
and silenced her. Still leaning on the bed, she looked at her child
with painful tenderness. Camilla's mocking laughter had pierced
her soul as with a dagger.
" Lost," she murmured, "both of us lost!"
With passionate despair she threw her arms around the child,
and pressed her closely ; kissed her wildly again and again, and
covered her face with burning tears.
"No, Camilla, no! you shall not be lost, you must remain good
and pure! Every child has its guardian angel ; pray, my child,
pray that your angel may watch over you ! "
She pressed her again in her arms, then returned to her chamber,
sadder and more hopeless than she had ever been before.
But this unusual sadness commenced to annoy her ; her heart
was not accustomed to feel sorrow, and her remorseful, dreary feel-
ing made her shudder. "If the carriage would but come!" she
murmured, and then, as if to excuse her thoughtlessness, she added,
"it is now my holy duty to listen to the prince ; I must regain the
respect of my child. Yes, yes, I must become the wife of Henry!
I can accomplish this, for the prince loves me truly."
And now, she was again the coquette, whose captivating smile
harmonized perfectly with her alluring costume no longer the ten-
der mother, no longer the sinner suffering from repentance and self-
reproach.
She stood before the glass, and arranged her disordered dress and
smoothed her dishevelled hair.
"I must be bewitching and fascinating." she murmured, with a
smile that showed two rows of ponrl-like teeth ; " the prince must
12 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
gain courage from my glance, to offer me his hand. Oh, I know he
is quite prepared to do so, if it were only to annoy his brother !"
As she saw the carriage drive up, she exclaimed, with sparkling
eyes, " The battle begins to victory 1"
CHAPTER IV.
AT THE MASKED BALL.
THE feast had commenced. As Louise von Kleist, the beautiful
odalisque, entered the dancing-saloon, she was almost blinded by
the gay and sparkling assembly. The fairy-like and fantastic
robes sparkled with gold and jewels. The sea of light thrown from
the crystal chandelier upon the mirrors and ornaments of the brill-
iant saloon dazzled the eye. The entertainments of the Prince of
Prussia were renowned for their taste and splendor.
Unrecognized, the beautiful Louise slipped through the gay as-
sembly of masks, and, when detecting some friends under the muffled
forms of their disguise, she murmured their names, and some mis
ch ievous and witty remark ; then springing gayly on to shoot again
her arrow, and excite astonishment and surprise.
" Oh, that life were a masked ball !" she murmured softly to her-
self, " mysterious and sweet ! where you find more than you seek,
and guess more than is known. No one recognizes me here. The
brave and handsome Count Troussel, who is leaning against that
pillar, and casting such melancholy glances through the crowd,
hunting for the one his heart adores, never dreams that she is stand-
ing opposite him, and is laughing at his perplexity. No, he does
not recognize me, and no one knows my costume but the prince and
Pollnitz, and as they have not yet found me, I conclude they
have not arrived. I will therefore amuse myself during their ab.
sence. "
She was just approaching the sentimental cavalier, when she
suddenly felt her arm touched, and, turning around, saw two masks
wrapped in dark dominoes before her.
" Beautiful odalisque, I bring you your sultan, " murmured one
of them, in whom she recognized Baron Pollnitz.
"And where is my sultan?" she asked.
"Here," said the second mask, offering the beautiful lady his
arm. Louise saw those glorious eyes beaming upon her through his
mask eyes which the king and Prince Henry alone possessed.
"Ah, my prince !" she murmured softly and reproachfully, "you
see that it is I who have waited. "
AT THE MASKED BALL. 13
The prince did not answer, but conducted her hastily through the
crowd. They had soon reached the end of the saloon. A small
flight of steps led them to a little boudoir opening on a balcony.
Into this boudoir Pollnitz led the silent pair, then bowing low he
left them.
" My God ! your highness, if we should be surprised here !"
"Fear nothing, we will not be surprised. Pollnitz guards the
door. Now, as we are alone and undisturbed, let us lay aside our
disguises. "
Thus speaking, the supposed prince removed his mask and laid
it upon the table.
" The king !" cried Louise, terrified and stepping back.
The king's eyes rested upon her with a piercing glance. " What !"
he asked, "are you still acting? You appear astonished; and still
you must have known me. Who but the king would show the
beautiful Madame von Kleist such an honor? In what other cavalier
could you place such perfect confidence as to accompany him into
this lonely boudoir? with whom but the king could you have trusted
your fair fame? You need not be alarmed ; to be in my presence is
to be under my protection the kind guardianship of your king. I
thank you that you knew me, and, knowing me, followed me trust-
ingly."
The searching glance of the king alarmed Louise ; his mocking
words bewildered her, and she was incapable of reply.
She bowed silently, and allowed herself to be conducted to the
divan.
" Sit down, and let us chat awhile, " said the king. " You know
I hate the noise of a feast, and love to retire into some corner, un-
noticed and unseen. I had no sooner discovered the fair Louise
under this charming costume, than I knew I had found good com-
pany. I ordered Pollnitz to seek out for us some quiet spot, where
we might converse freely. Commence, therefore. "
"Of what shall I speak, your majesty?" said Louise, confused
and frightened. She knew well that the king had not found her by
chance, but had sought her with a determined purpose.
"Oh ! that is a question whose nawete reminds me of the little
Louise Schwerin of earlier days. Well, let us speak on that subject
which interests most deeply all who know you ; let us speak of
your happiness. You sigh. Have you already paid your tribute?
Do you realize the fleetness of all earthly bliss?"
" Ah ! your majesty, an unhappy marriage is the most bitter
offering that can be made to experience," sighed Madame von
Kliest. " My life was indeed wretched until released by your kind-
ness from that bondage. "
14 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Ah, yes, it is true you are divorced. When and upon whom
will you now bestow this small, white hand?"
Louise looked up astonished. " What 1" she stammered, con-
fused, "your majesty means "
" That you will certainly marry again. As beautiful a lady as
you will always be surrounded by lovers, and I sincerely hope that
you will marry. You should go forward as an example to my
brothel's, your youthful playmates, and I will tell my brother Henry
that marriage is not so bad a thing, as the beautiful Madame von
Kleist has tried it for the second time. "
" I doubt very much, sire, " said Louise, timidly, " if the example
of so insignificant a person would have the desired effect upon the
prince. "
" You do yourself injustice. The prince has too strong an ad-
miration for you, not to be influenced by your encouraging example.
My brother must and shall marry according to his birth. I am
assured that, contrary to my wishes and commands, he is about to
make a secret and illegitimate marriage. I am not yet acquainted
with the name of his wily mistress, but I shall learn it, and, when
once noted in my memory, woe be unto her, for I shall never
acknowledge such a marriage, and I shall take care that his mis-
tress is not received at court she shall be regarded as a dishonored
woman. "
" Your majesty is very stern and pitiless toward the poor prince, "
said Madame Kleist, who had succeeded in suppressing her own
emotions, and, following the lead of the king, she was desirous to
let it appear that the subject was one of no personal interest to her-
self.
" No, " said the king, " I am not cruel and not pitiless. I must
forget that I am a brother, and remember only I am a king, not only
for the good of my family, but for the prosperity of my people.
My brother must marry a princess of wealth and influence. Tell
Prince Henry this. Now, " said the king, with an engaging smile,
" let us speak of your lovely self. You will, of course, marry again.
Have you not confidence enough in me to tell me the name of your
happy and favored lover?"
" Sire, " said Louise, smiling, " I do not know it myself, and to
show what unbounded confidence I have in your majesty, I modestly
confess that I am not positively certain whether among my many
followers there is one who desires to be the successor of Kleist. It
is easy to have many lovers, but somewhat difficult to marry
suitably. "
"We need a marrying man to chase away the crowd of lovers,"
said the king, smiling. "Think awhile let your lovers pass in
AT THE MASKED BALL. 15
review before you perhaps you may find among them one who is
both ardent and desirable. "
Louise remained thoughtful for a few moments. The king ob-
served her closely.
"Well," he said, after a pause, "have you made your selection?"
Madame von Kleist sighed, and her beautiful bright eyes filled
with tears. She took leave of her most cherished and ambitious
dream bade farewell to her future of regal pomp and splendor.
" Yes, sire, I have found an epouseur, who only needs encourage-
ment, to offer me his heart and hand. "
"Is he of good family?"
"Yes, sire."
"Military?"
"Yes, sire. He wears only a captain's epaulets. Your majesty
sees that I am modest. "
" On the day of his marriage he shall be major. When the Church
pronounces her blessing, the king's blessing shall not be wanting.
We are, of course, agreed. When will you be engaged?"
" Sire, that depends upon my lover, and when I succeed in bring-
ing him to terms. "
"We will say in eight days You see I am anxious to become
speedily acquainted with one blissful mortal, and I think that the
husband of the beautiful Madame Kleist will be supremely happy.
In eight days, then, you will be engaged, and, to complete your good
work, you must announce this happy fact to my brother Henry. Of
course, he must not even surmise that you sacrifice yourself in order
to set him a good example. No, you will complete your noble work,
and tell him that a love which you could not control induced you to
take this step ; and that he may not doubt your words, you will tell
your story cheerfully yes, joyously. "
" Sire, it is too much I cannot do it, " cried Madame von Kleist.
" It is enough to trample upon my own heart ; your majesty cannot
desire me to give the prince his death-blow. "
The king's eyes flashed angrily, but he controlled himself.
"His death!" he repeated, shrugging his shoulders, "as if men
died of such small wounds. You know better yourself. You know
that the grave of one love is the cradle of another. Be wise, and do
as I tell you : in eight days you will be engaged, and then you will
have the kindness to acquaint Prince Henry with your happy pros-
pects. "
" Ah, sire, do not be so cruel as to ask this of me, " cried Louise,
gliding from the divan upon her knees, " be merciful. I am ready
to obey the commands of my king, to make the sacrifice that is
asked of me let it not be too great a one. Your majesty asks that
16 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
I shall draw down the contempt of the man I love upon myself ; that
this man must not only give me up, but scorn me. You require too
much. This is more than the strongest, bravest heart can endure.
Your majesty knows that the prince loves me passionately. Ah,
sire, your brother would have forfeited his rank and your favor by
marrying me, but he would have been a happy man ; and I ask the
king if that is not, at last, the best result? Are you, sire, content
and happy since you trampled your breathing, loving heart to death
at the foot of the throne? You command your brother to do as you
have done. Well, sire, I submit not only to resign the prince, but
to marry again, to marry without love. Perhaps my soul will be
lost by this perjury, but what matters that it is a plaything in the
hands of the king? He may break my heart, but it shall not be dis-
honored and trodden in the dust. The prince shall cease to love me,
but I will not be despised by him. He shall not think me a misera-
ble coquette, despise, and laugh at me. Now, sire, you can crush me
in your anger. I have said what I had to say you know my decision. "
She bowed her head almost to the earth ; motionless, kneeling at
the foot of the king, her hands folded on her breast, she might in
reality have been taken for an odalisque but that her sad, tearful
face was not in unison with the situation or costume.
A long pause ensued a solemn, fearful pause. The king strug-
gled with his rage, Louise with her disappointment and distress.
Sounds of laughter, the gay notes of music reached them from the
dancing-saloon. The ball had commenced, and youth and beauty
were mingling in the dance. These sounds aroused the king, and
the sad contrast made Louise shudder.
"You will not, then, comply with my request?" said the king,
sternly.
" Sire, I cannot !" murmured Louise, raising her hands implor-
ingly to the king.
"You cannot!" cried the king, whose face glowed with anger;
"you cannot, that means you will not, because your vain, coquettish
heart will not resign the love of the prince. You submit to resign
his hand, because you must ; but you wish to retain his love : he
must think of you as a heavenly ideal, to be adored and longed for,
placed amongst the stars for worship. Ah, madame, you are not
willing to make the gulf between you impassable ! You say you
wish, at least, to retain the respect of Prince Henry. I ask you,
madame, what you have done to deserve his respect? You were an
ungrateful and undutiful daughter ; you did not think of the shame
and sorrow you prepared for your parents, when you arranged your
flight with the gardener. I succeeded in rescuing you from dishonor
by marrying you to a brave and noble cavalier. It depended upon
AT THE MASKED BALL. 17
you entirely to gain his love and respect, but you forgot your duty
as a wife, as you had forgotten it as a daughter. You had no pity
with the faults and follies of your husband, you drove him to de-
spair. At last, to drown his sorrows, he became a drunkard, and
you, instead of remaining at his side to encourage and counsel him,
deserted him, and so heartlessly exposed his shame that I, to put an
end to the scandal, permitted your divorce. You not only forgot
your duty as a wife and daughter, but also as a mother. You have
deprived your child of a father, you have made her an orphan ; you
have soiled, almost depraved her young soul ; and now, after all
this, you wish to be adored and respected as a saint by my poor
brother ! No, madame ! I shall know how to save him from this
delusion ; I shall tell to him and the world the history of little Louise
von Schwerin ! Fritz Wendel still lives, and, if you desire it, I can
release him, and he may tell his romantic story. "
" Oh, for the second time to-day I have heard that hateful name !"
cried Louise ; " the past is an avenger that pursues us mercilessly
through our whole lives. "
" Choose, madame !" said the king, after a pause ; " will you
announce your betrothal to my brother in a gay and unembarrassed
tone, or shall I call Fritz Wendel, that he may sing the unhappy
prince to sleep with his romantic history?"
Whilst the king spoke, Louise had raised herself slowly from her
knees, and taken a seat upon the divan. Now rising, and bowing
lowly, she said, with trembling lips and tearful voice : " Sire, I am
prepared to do all that you wish. I shall announce my betrothal to
the prince cheerfully, and without sighs or tears. But be merciful,
and free me forever from that hideous spectre which seems ever at
my side !"
"Do you mean poor Fritz Wendel?" said the king, smiling.
" Well, on the day of your marriage I will send him as a soldier to
Poland ; there he may relate his love -adventures, but no one will
understand him. Are you content?"
" I thank you, sire, " said Louise, faintly.
"Ah, I see our conversation has agitated you a little !" said the
king. " Fortunately, we are now at an end. In the next eight days,
remember, you will be engaged !"
"Yes, sire."
"The day of your marriage, I will make your captain a major.
You promise to tell my brother of your engagement, and that it is
in accordance with the warmest wishes of your heart?"
"Yes, sire ; and you will banish the gardener forever?"
"I will; but wait one thing more. Where will you tell my
brother of your engagement, and before what witnesses?"
18 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" At the place and before the witnesses your majesty may select, "
said Madame von Kleist.
The king thought a moment. "You will do it in my presence,"
said he ; " I will let you know the time and place through Pollnitz.
We have arranged our little affairs, madame, and we will descend
to the saloon where, I think, your epouseur is sighing for your
presence. "
" Let him sigh, sire ! With your permission, I should like to
retire. "
"Go, madame, where you wish. Pollnitz will conduct you to
your carriage. "
He offered her his hand, and, with a friendly bow, led her to the
door.
"Farewell, madame ! I believe we part friends?"
"Sire," she answered, smiling faintly, "I can only say as the
soldiers do, 'I thank you for your gracious punishment !'"
She bowed and left the room hastily, that the king might not see
her tears.
CHAPTER V.
A SECRET CAPTAIN.
THE king looked long after her in silence ; at first with an ex
pression of deep pity, but this soon gave place to a gay, mocking
smile.
" She is not a woman to take sorrow earnestly. When mourning
no longer becomes her, she will lay it aside for the rosy robes of
joy. She is a coquette, nothing more. It is useless to pity her. "
He now stepped upon the balcony that overlooked the saloon,
and glanced furtively from behind the curtains upon the gay assem-
bly below.
" Poor, foolish mankind ! how wise you might be, if you were
not so very childish if you did not seek joy and happiness precisely
where it is not to be found ! But how is this?" said the king, in-
terrupting himself, "those two giant forms at the side of the little
Armenians are certainly Barons Kalkreuth and Kaphengst, and that
is my brother with them. Poor Henry ! you have made a bad use
of your freedom, and must, therefore, soon lose it. Ah ! see how
searchingly he turns his head, seeking his beautiful odalisque! In
vain, my brother, in vain ! For to-day, at least, we have made her
a repentant Magdalen ; to-morrow she will be again a life-enjoying
Aspasia. Ah, the prince separates himself from his followers. I
have a few words to whisper in the ear of the gay Kaphengst. "
A SECRET CAPTAIN. 19
The king stepped back into the room, and after resuming his
mask, he descended into the saloon, accompanied by his grand
chamberlain.
Mirth and gayety reigned ; the room was crowded with masks .
here stood a group in gay conversation ; there was dancing at the
other end of the saloon. Some were listening to the organ-player,
as he sang, in comical German and French verses, little incidents
and adventures: that had occurred during the present year at court,
bringing forth laughter, confused silence, and blushes. Some were
amusing themselves with the lively, witty chat of the son of the
Prince of Prussia, the little ten-year-old, Prince Frederick William.
He was dressed as the God of Love, with bow and quiver, dancing
around, and, with an early-ripened instinct, directing his arrow at
the most beautiful and fascinating ladies in the room.
Prince Henry paid no attention to all this ; his wandering glance
sought only the beautiful Louise, and a deep sigh escaped him at
not having found her. Hastily he stepped through the rows of
dancers which separated the two cavaliers from him.
"It appears," murmured Baron Kalkreuth to his friend, "it ap-
pears to me that the prince would like to get rid of us. He wishes
to be entirely unobserved. I think we can profit by this, and there-
fore I shall take leave of you for a while, and seek my own adven-
tures. "*
" I advise you, " murmured Baron Kaphengst, laughingly, " to
appoint no rendezvous for to-morrow. "
"And why not, friend?"
" Because you will not be able to appear ; for you will doubtless
be in arrest. "
" That is true, and I thank you for your prudent advice, and shall
arrange all my rendezvous for the day after to-morrow. Farewell. "
Baron Kaphengst turned laughingly to another part of the saloon.
Suddenly he felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and a low voice
murmured his name.
Terrified, he turned. " I am not the one you seek, mask, " he
said ; but as he met those two large, burning eyes, he shuddered,
and even his bold, daring heart stood still a moment from terror.
Only the king had such eyes ; only he had such a commanding
glanca
" You say you are not the one I seek, " said the mask. " Well,
yes, you speak wisely. I sought in you a brave and obedient officer,
and it appears that you are not that. You are not, then, Lieutenant
von Kaphengst?"
Kaphengst thought a moment. He was convinced it was the
king that spoke with him, for Frederick had not attempted to dis-
20 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
guise his voice. Kaphengst knew he was discovered. There re-
mained nothing for him but to try and reconcile the king by a
jest.
He bowed close to the king, and whispered : " Listen, mask as
you have recognized me, I will acknowledge the truth. Yes, I am
Lieutenant von Kaphengst, and am incognito. You understand me
I came to this ball incognito. He is a scoundrel who repeats it '."
and, without awaiting an answer, he hastened away to seek the
prince and Baron Kalkreuth, acquaint them with the king's pres-
ence, and fly with them from his anger.
But Prince Henry, whose fruitless search for his sweetheart had
made him angry and defiant, declared he would remain at the ball
until it was over, and that it should be optional with the king to
insult his brother openly, and to punish and humble a prince of his
house before the world.
" I, unfortunately, do not belong to the princes of the royal house,
and I therefore fear that the king might regard me as the cat who
had to pull the hot chestnuts from the ashes, and I might suffer for
all three. I therefore pray your highness to allow me to withdraw. "
"You may go, and if you meet Kalkreuth, ask him to accompany
you. You officers must not carry your insubordination any furthei.
I, as prince, and Hohenzollern, dare the worst, but, be assured, I
shall pay for my presumption. Farewell, and hasten ! Do not for-
get Kalkreuth. "
Kaphengst sought in vain. Kalkreuth was nowhere to be found,
and he had to wend his way alone to Potsdam.
" I shall take care not to await the order of the king for my
arrest, " said Baron Kaphengst to himself, as he rode down the road
to Potsdam. " I shall be in arrest when his order arrives. Perhaps
that will soften his anger. "
Accordingly, when Kaphengst arrived at the court guard, in
Potsdam, he assumed the character of a drunken, quarrelsome offi-
cer, and played his role so well that the commander placed him in
arrest.
An hour later the king's order reached the commander to arrest
Baron Kaphengst, and with smiling astonishment he received the
answer that he had been under arrest for the last hour.
In the mean time, Kaphengst had not miscalculated. The prince
was put under arrest for eight days, Kalkreuth for three. He was
released the next morning, early enough to appear at the parade.
As the king, with his generals, rode down to the front, he imme-
diately noticed the audacious young officer, whose eye met his
askance and pleadingly. The king beckoned to him, and as Baron
Kaphengst stood erect before him, the king said, laughingly .
THE LEGACY OF VON TRENCK. 21
" It is truly difficult to exchange secrets with one of your height ;
bow down to me, I have something to whisper in you ear. "
The comrades and officers, yes, even the generals, saw not with-
out envy that the king was so gracious to the young Lieutenant von
Kaphengst ; whispered a few words to him confidentially, and then
smiling and bowing graciously, moved on.
It was, therefore, natural that, when the king left, all were anx-
ious to congratulate the young lieutenant, and ask him what the
king had whispered. But Baron Kaphengst avoided, with dignified
gravity, all inquiries, and only whispered to his commander softly,
but loud enough for every one to hear, the words, " State secrets ;"
then bowing profoundly, returned with an earnest and grave face to
his dwelling, there to meditate at his leisure upon the king's words
words both gracious and cruel, announcing his advancement, but
at the same time condemning him to secrecy.
The king's words were : " You are a captain, but he is a scoundrel
who repeats it !"
Thus Baron Kaphengst was captain, but no one suspected it ; the
captain remained a simple lieutenant in the eyes of the world.
CHAPTER VI.
THE LEGACY OP VON TRENCK, COLONEL OF THE PANDOURS.
BARON WEINQARTEN, the new secretary of legation of the Aus-
trian embassy in Berlin, paced the ambassador's office in great dis-
pleasure. It was the hour in which all who had affairs to arrange
with the Austrian ambassador, passports to vise, contracts to sign,
were allowed entrance, and it was the baron's duty to receive them.
But no one came ; no one desired to make use of his ability or his
mediation, and this displeased the baron and put him out of humor.
It was not the want of work and activity that annoyed him ; the
baron would have welcomed the dolcefar niente had it not been un-
fortunately connected with his earnings ; the fees he received for
passports, and the arrangement of other affairs, formed part of his
salary as secretary of legation, and as he possessed no fortune, this
was his only resource. This indigence alone led him to resign his
aristocratic independence and freedom of action. He had not
entered the state service from ambition, but for money, that lie
might have the means of supporting his mother and unmarried sis-
ters, and enable himself to live according to his rank and old aristo-
cratic name. Baron Weingarten would have made any sacrifice,
submitted to any service, to obtain wealth. Poverty had demoral-
22 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ized him, pride had laid a mildew on his heart and stifled all noble
aspirations. As he read a letter, just received from his mother,
complaining of wants and privations, telling of the attachment of a
young officer to his sister, and that poverty alone prevented their
marriage, his heart was filled with repining, and at this moment
he was prepared to commit a crime, if, by so doing, he could have
obtained wealth.
In this despairing and sorrowful mood he had entered the office,
and awaited in vain for petitioners who would pay him richly for
his services. But the hours passed in undisturbed quiet, and Baron
Weingarten was in the act of leaving the office, as the servant
announced Baron von Waltz, and the court councillor, Zetto, from
Vienna.
He advanced to meet the two gentlemen, with a smiling counte-
nance, and welcomed his Austrian countrymen heartily.
The two gentlemen seated themselves silently ; Weingarten took
a seat in front of them.
A painful, embarrassed pause ensued. The majestic Baron von
Waltz looked silently at the ceiling, while the black, piercing eyes
of the little Councillor Zetto examined the countenance of Wein-
garten with a strangely searching and penetrating expression.
"You are from Vienna?" said Weingarten at last, puting an end
to this painful silence.
*' We are from Vienna, " answered the baron, with a grave bow.
" And have travelled here post-haste to have an interview with
you."
"With me?" asked the secretary of legation, astonished.
" With you alone, " said the baron, gravely.
" We wish you to do the King of Prussia a great service, " said
Zetto, solemnly.
Weingarten reddened, and said confusedly : " The King of Prus-
sia ! You forget, gentlemen, that my services belong alone to the
Empress Maria Theresa. "
"He defends himself before he is accused," said Zetto, aside.
"It is then true, as we have been told, he is playing a double game
serves Austria and Prussia at the same time. " Turning to Baron
Weingarten, he said : " That which we ask of you will be at the
same time a service to our gracious empress, for certainly it would
not only distress, but compromise her majesty, if an Austrian officer
committed a murder in Prussia. "
"Murder !" cried the secretary of legation.
" Yes, an intentional murder, " said Baron Waltz, emphatically
" the murder of the King of Prussia. If you prevent this crime,
you will receive ten thousand guilders," said Zetto, examining
THE LEGACY OF VON TRENCK. 23
Weingarten's countenance closely. He remarked that the baron,
who was but a moment ago pale from terror, now reddened, and
that his eyes sparkled joyously.
"And what can I do to prevent this murder?" asked Weingarten,
hastily.
" You can warn the king. "
" But to warn successfully, I must have proofs. "
"We are ready to give the most incontrovertible proofs."
"I must, before acting, be convinced of the veracity of your
charges. "
" I hope that my word of honor will convince you of their truth, "
said Baron Waltz, pathetically.
Weingarten bowed, with an ambiguous smile, that did not escape
Zetto. He drew forth his pocket-book, and took from it a small,
folded paper, which he handed to Weingarten.
"If I strengthen my declaration with this paper, will you trust
me?"
Weingarten looked with joyful astonishment at the paper ; it
was a check for two thousand guilders. "My sister's dowry,"
thought Weingarten, with joy. But the next moment came doubt
and suspicion. What if they were only trying him only convinc-
ing themselves if he could be bought? Perhaps he was suspected of
supplying the Prussian Government from time to time with Austrian
news of communicating to them the contents of important dis-
patches !
The fire faded from his eye, and with a firm countenance he laid
the paper upon the table.
" Your are mistaken, gentlemen ! that is no document, but a
check. "
" With which many documents could be purchased, " said Zetto,
smiling. Placing the paper again in his pocket-book, he took out
another and a larger one. It was a check for three thousand
guilders.
But Weingarten had regained his composure. He knew that
men acting thus must be spies or criminals ; that they were testing
him, or luring him on to some unworthy act. In either case, he
must be on his guard.
" I beg you to confirm your charge in the usual manner, " said he,
with a cold, indifferent glance at the paper. " Murder is a dreadful
accusation you cannot act too carefully. You say that an Austrian
officer intends to murder the King of Prussia. How do you know
this?"
" From himself, " said Baron Waltz ; " he communicated his in-
tentions to me, and confided to me his entire plan. "
24 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" It appears, " remarked Weingarten, mockingly, " that the officer
had reason to believe he might trust you with this terrible secret. "
"You see, however, that he was mistaken," said the baron, smil-
ingly. " I demand of you to warn the King of Prussia of the danger
that threatens him. "
"I shall be compelled to make this danger clear, give all particu-
lars, or the king will laugh at my story and consider it a fairy
tale."
"You shall give him convincing proof. Say to him that the
murder is to be committed when his majesty attends the Austrian
review at Konigsberg. "
"How will the officer cross the Prussian border?"
" He is supplied with an Austrian passport, and under the pre-
tence of inheriting a large property in Prussia, he has obtained leave
of absence for a month. "
" There remains now but one question : why does the officer wish
to murder the king? what motive leads him to do so?"
"Revenge," said Baron von Waltz, solemnly "an act of ven-
geance. This Austrian officer who is resolved to murder the king
of Prussia, is Frederick von Trenck. "
Weingarten was embarrassed, and his countenance bore an un-
easy and troubled expression. But as his eye fell upon the weighty
paper that lay before him, he smiled, and looked resolved.
" Now I have but one thing more to ask. Why, if your story is
authentic, and well calculated to startle even the brave king, have
you thought it necessary to remove my doubts with this document?"
Baron Waltz was silent, and looked inquiringly at Zetto.
"Why did I hand you this document?" said the councillor, with
a sweet smile ; "because gold remains gold, whether received from
an Austrian councillor or from a Prussian prince. "
"Sir, do you dare to insult me?" criec 1 the secretary of legation,
fiercely.
Zetto smiled. "No, I only wish to notify you that we are aware
that it is through you that Baron von Trenck receives money from
a certain aristocratic lady in Berlin. It is, therefore, most impor-
tant that the king should be warned by you of his intended murder
otherwise you might be thought an accomplice. "
Weingarten appeared not to be in the least disconcerted by this
statement he seemed not even to have heard it.
"Before I warn the king," he said, with calm composure, "I
must be convinced of the truth of the story myself, and I acknowl-
edge to you that I am not convinced, cannot understand your motives
for seeking the destruction of Baron von Trenck. "
" Ah 1 you search into our motives you mistrust us, " cried Zetto,
THE LEGACY OF VON TRENCK. 25
hastily. " Well, we will prove to you that we trust you, by telling
you our secret. You know the story of the inheritance of Trenck?"
"He is the only heir of the pandour chieftain, Franz von
Trenck. "
" Correct. And do you know the history of this pandour chief-
tain Trenck?"
" I have heard a confused and uncertain statement, but nothing
definite or reliable. "
"It is, however, a very interesting and instructive story, and
shows how far a man with a determined will and great energy can
reach, when his thoughts are directed to one end. Baron Trenck
wished to be rich, immensely rich that was the aim of his life.
Seduced by his love of money, he became the captain of a band of
robbers, then a murderer, a church-robber ; from that a brave sol-
dier, and, at last, a holy penitent. Robbing and plundering every-
where, he succeeded in collecting millions. The pandour chieftain
Trenck soon became so rich, that he excited the envy of the noblest
and wealthiest men in the kingdom, so rich that he was able to lend
large sums of money to the powerful and influential Baron Lowen-
walde. You see, baron, it only needs a determined will to become
rich. "
" Oh ! the foolish man, " said Weingarten, shrugging his shoul-
ders ; " lending money to a noble and powerful man, is making an
irreconcilable enemy. "
" You speak like a prophet. It happened, as you say. Lowen-
walde became Trenck 's enemy. He accused him of embezzling the
imperial money, of treachery and faithlessness and Trenck ws
imprisoned. "
"His millions obtained his release, did they not?"
"No. His riches reduced him to greater misery. His lauds
were sequestered, and a body of commissioners were selected to at-
tend to them. Baron Waltz and myself belonged to this commis-
sion. "
" Ah ! I begin to understand, " murmured Weingarten.
Baron Zetto continued, with a smile : " The commissioners made
the discovery that report had greatly exaggerated the riches of
Trenck. He had not many treasures, but many debts. In order tc
liquidate those debts, we desired his creditors to announce them-
selves every day, and promised them a daily ducat until the end ot
the process. "
"I hope you two gentlemen were among his creditors," said
Weingarten.
" Certainly, we were, and also Baron Marken. "
"Therefore you have a threefold advantage from Trenck 's im-
26 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
prisonment . first, your salary as a member of the commission ;
secondly, as a creditor "
"And thirdly you spoke of a threefold advantage?"
" And thirdly, " said Weingarten, laughing, " in searching for
the missing treasures of Baron Trenck which had disappeared so
unfortunately. "
"Ah, sir, you speak like those who suspected us at court, and
wished to make the empress believe that we had enriched ourselves
as commissioners. Soon after this Trenck died, and Frederick von
Trenck hastened from St. Petersburg to receive his inheritance.
How great was his astonishment to find instead of the hoped-for
millions a few mortgaged lands, an income of a hundred thousand
guilders, and sixty-three creditors who claimed the property. "
" He should have become one of the commissioners, " remarked
Weingarten, mockingly. " Perhaps it would have then been easier
for him to obtain his possessions. "
" He attempted it in another way, with the aid of money, bribery,
and persuasion. He has already succeeded in obtaining fifty-four
of his sixty-three processes, and will win the others in a few days. "
"And then he will doubtless cause the commissioners to give in
their accounts, and close their books. "
" Exactly. He has already commenced to do so. He ordered an
investigation to be made against the quartermaster, and the com-
mander of the regiment to which Franz von Trenck belonged. This
man had accused Trenck of having embezzled eight thousand of the
imperial money, and Trenck succeeded so far, that it was declared
that it was not he, but his accusers, who had committed the crime.
The consequence was, that the quartermaster was deposed ; and it
would have fared as badly with the commander, had he not found
powerful protection. "
"And now the dangerous Frederick von Trenck will seize the
property of the commissioners. "
" He would do so if we did not know how to prevent him. We
must employ every means to remove him, and, believe me, we are
not the only men who wish for his disappearance. A large and
powerful party have the same desire, and would joyfully pay ten
thousand guilders to be freed from his investigations. "
Weingarten's eyes sparkled for a moment, and his heart beat
quickly ; but he suppressed these joyful emotions, and retained his
calm and indifferent expression.
"Gentlemen," he said, quietly, "as you are speaking of a real
criminal, one who intends committing so great a crime, I am at
your service, and no money or promises are necessary to buy my
assistance. "
THE LEGACY OF VON TRENCK. 27
"Is he really a man of honor, and have we received false infor-
mation?" thought Zetto, who was misled for a moment by the quiet
and virtuous looks of the secretary of legation.
" In the mean while you will not prevent those for whom you are
about to do a great service from showing their gratitude, " said
Baron "Waltz. "Every one has a right to give or to receive a
present. " .
"Gentlemen," said Baron Weingarten, smilingly, "no one has
spoken of a present, but of a payment, a bribery, and you can readily
understand that this is insulting to a man of honor. "
" Ah, he leaves open a door of escape, " thought Zetto. " He is
won, he can be bought. You are right, baron," he said aloud,
"and we are wrong to offer you now that which hereafter will be a
debt of gratitude. We will speak no more of this, but of the danger
that threatens the king. You alone can save him by warning him
of his danger. "
"You really believe, then, that Trenck has the intention of mur-
dering the king?" said Weingarten.
"We will believe it," said Zetto, with an ambiguous smile.
"We must believe it!" cried Baron Waltz, emphatically. "We
must either believe in his murderous intentions, or be ourselves re-
garded as traitors and robbers. You will think it natural that we
prefer the first alternative, and as he resolved to ruin us, we will
anticipate him, and set the trap into which he must fall. "
"Why could you not lay your snares in Austria, gentlemen?
Why could you notaccusehim of intending to murder the empress?"
Zetto shrugged his shoulders. " That would not be credible, be-
cause Trenck has no motive for murdering Maria Theresa, while he
might very well thirst to revenge himself upon Frederick. You
know that the king and Trenck are personal enemies. Trenck has
boasted of this enmity often and loud enough to be understood by
the whole world, and I do not believe that this animosity has dimin-
ished. Enemies naturally desire to destroy each other. Trenck
would succeed if we did not warn the king, and enable him to an-
ticipate his enemy. "
"How can fH 5 be done? Will the king really go to Konigsberg
to be present at the Austrian festivities?"
" It has been spoken of. "
" Well, Trenck now proposes to go to Dantzic, and he has boasted
that he will enter Konigsberg at the same time with the King of
Prussia, who will not dare to arrest him."
"We have made a bet with him of a hundred louis d'or on this
boast," said Baron Waltz, "and for greater security we have put it
in writing. "
28 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Have you it with you?"
"Here it is."
The baron handed Weingarten a paper, which he seized hastily,
unfolded, and read several times.
" This is indeed written in very ambiguous language, and calcu-
lated to ruin Trenck should it reach the hands of the king," said
Baron Weingarten with a cruel smile.
Zetto returned this smile. " I wrote the document, and you will
naturally understand that I measured the words veiy closely. "
" Who copied the letter ?" asked Weingarten. " Doubtlessly Baron
Trenck was not magnanimous enough to do that. "
" Baron Waltz is a great adept in imitating handwriting, and he
happily possessed original letters of Trenck's, " said Zetto, smilingly.
" You will find it most natural that I should try to win my bet, "
said Baron Waltz. " If Trenck is arrested before he goes to Konigs-
berg, I have won my bet, and will receive the hundred louis d'ors
from the commissioners. "
All three laughed.
"These commissioners will soon have to pay you ten thousand
guilders," whispered Zetto. "Here is a bond. On the day that
Trenck is a prisoner of the king of Prussia, this bond is due, and
you will then find that the commissioners are not backward in pay-
ing. " Zetto laid the document upon the table. " You will now
have the kindness to receive our testimony, and, if you desire it,
we will add our accusations, or you can mention that this can be
done. "
Weingarten did not answer ; a repentant fear tormented his
heart, and for a moment it appeared as if his good and evil genius
were struggling for his soul.
" This involves probably the life of a man," he said, softly; "it
is a terrible accusation that I must pronounce : if not condemned to
death, the king will imprison him for many long years, and I shall
be responsible for this injustice. "
Councillor Zetto 's attentive ear heard every word ; he stood near
him like the evil one, and his piercing eyes rested upon the agitated
countenance of Weingarten and read his thoughts.
" Have you not lived the life of a prisoner for many years ?" asked
Zetto, in a low, unnatural voice ; " have you not always been a slave
of poverty? Will you now, from weak pity, lose the opportunity of
freeing yourself from this bondage? Ten thousand guilders is no
fortune, but it may be the beginning of one it may be the thread
of Ariadne to lead you from the labyrinth of poverty to freedom and
light ; and who will thank you if you do not seize this thread who
recompense you for your generosity and magnanimity? If you tell
THE KING AND WEINGARTEN. 29
it to the wise and cunning, they will laugh at you ; and if the fool-
ish hear it, they will not understand you. Every one is the moulder
of his own happiness ; and woe unto him who neglects to forge the
iron while it is hot !"
Baron Weingarten felt each of these words. He did not know if
they were uttered by human lips, or if they came from the depths
of his own base soul.
" It is true, it is true !" he cried, in a frightened voice ; " he is a
fool who does not seize the hand of Fortune when tendered by the
laughing goddess a fool who does not break his fetters when he has
the power to rend them. Come, gentlemen ! we take the testimony,
and when that is done, I will conduct you to our ambassador, Baron
Puebla."
" Not so when that is done, we shall depart with post-haste ;
you alone shall receive thanks and recompense. Now to work !"
CHAPTER VII.
THE KINO AND WEINGARTEN.
THE king paced his room hastily ; he was very pale, his lip trem-
bled, and his eyes sparkled angrily.
He suddenly remained standing before the Austrian secretary of
legation, and gazed long and earnestly into his face ; but his glance,
before which so many had trembled, was sustained by the secretary
with so quiet and innocent a countenance that it deceived even the
king.
" I see that you are convinced of the truth of what you tell me, "
the king said at last ; "you really believe that this madman has the
intention of murdering me?"
" I am convinced of it, sire, " replied Weingarten, humbly, " for
I have the proof of his intention in my hand. "
"The proof what proof?"
" This paper which I allowed myself to hand to your majesty, and
which you laid upon the table without reading. "
" Ah, it is true ! I forgot that in my excitement, " said the king,
mildly. " I beg you to read me the contents of this paper. "
Baron Weingarten received the ^aper from the king with a re-
spectful bow ; his voice did not tremble in the least as he read the
important words which refined malice and cruel avarice had writ-
ten there words which, if literally interpreted, would fully con-
demn Trenck.
The words were :
30 FEEDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"'In consequence of a bet, I pledge myself to be in Konigsberg
the same day in which the King Frederick of Prussia, my cruel
enemy and persecutor, shall arrive there. I shall go there to do, in
the king's presence, that which no one has done before me, and
which no one will do after me. If I do not succeed in accomplish-
ing my purpose, or if I should be arrested, I have lost my bet, and
shall owe Baron Waltz one hundred louis d'or, which must be paid
him by the commissioners of the Trenck estate.
"'BARON FREDERICK VON TRENCK."'
"And Trenck wrote this note himself?" said the king.
"If your majesty is acquainted with Trenck 's handwriting, you
will perhaps have the goodness to examine it yourself. "
" I know his handwriting 1 ; give me the paper. "
He took the paper and glanced over it searchingly. " It is his
handwriting, " he murmured ; " but I will examine it again. "
Speaking thus, he stepped hastily to his escritoire, and took from
a small box several closely written yellow papers, and compared
them with the document which Weingarten had given him.
Ah, how little did Trenck dream, as he wrote those letters, that
they would witness against him, and stamp him as a criminal !
They were already a crime in the king's eyes, for they were tender
letters that Trenck had dared to write from Vienna to the Princess
Amelia. They had never reached her !
And not those tender epistles of a tearful and unhappy love must
bear witness against the writer, and condemn him for the second
time !
"It is his handwriting," said the king, as he laid the letters
again in the box. " I thank you, Baron Weingarten ; you have
saved me from a disagreeable occurrence ; for, if I will not even be-
lieve that Trenck intended murder, he was at all events willing to
create a scene, if only to gratify his vanity. It appears that he has
now played out his role at Vienna, as well as in St. Petersburg and
Berlin ; and the world would forget him if he did not attract its
attention by some mad piece of folly. How he intended to accom-
plish this I do not know ; but certainly not by a murder no, I can-
not believe that !"
"Your majesty is always noble and magnanimous, but it appears
tome that these words can have but one meaning. 'I shall go to
Konigsberg, ' writes Baron Trenck, ' and there do in the presence of
the king what no one has done before me, and what no one will do
after me. ' Does not this make his intention pretty clear?"
" Only for those who know his intentions or suspect them, for
others they could have any other signification ; some romantic
threat, nothing more. Baron Trenck is a known adventurer, a species
THE KING AND WEINGARTEN. 31
of Don Quixote, always fighting against windmills, and believing
that warriors and kings honor him so far as to be his enemies.
I punished Trenck when he was in my service, for insubordination ;
now he is no longer in my service, and I have forgotten him,
but woe be unto him if he forces me to remember him !"
"Your majesty will soon see if he is falsely accused. These
reliable and irreproachable men came especially to warn your ma-
jesty, through me. You will discover if they have calumniated
Trenck, by giving this testimony. If he does not go to Dantzic,
does not enter Prussia, they have sworn falsely, and Trenck is inno-
cent."
" He will not dare to cross the borders of my state, for he knows
he will be court-martialled as a deserter. But I am convinced that
he is a bold adventurer ; he has boasted that he will defy me ; that
is certainly what no one has done before him, and what no one will
do after him ; but it will rest there, you may believe me. "
Baron Weingarten bowed silently. The king continued, with
an engaging smile :
"However, monsieur, I owe you many thanks, and it would
please me to have an opportunity of rewarding you. "
Until this moment, Weingarten had been standing with bowed
head ; he now stood erect, and his eye dared to meet that of the king.
"Sire," he said, with the noble expression of offended innocence,
" I demand and wish no other reward than that you may profit by
my warning. If the fearful danger that threatens your majesty is
averted through me, that will be my all-sufficient recompense. I
must decline any other. "
The king smiled approvingly. " You speak emphatically, and it
appears that you really believe in this danger. Well, I thank you
only as that is your desire. I will respect your warning and guard
myself from the danger that you believe threatens me ; but to do
that, and at the same time to convince ourselves of Trenck's evil in-
tentions, we must observe the most perfect silence in this whole
affair, and you must promise me to speak of it to no one. "
" Sire, secrecy appeared to me so necessary, that I did not even
communicate it to Baron Puebla, but came to your majesty on my
own responsibility. "
" You did well, for now Trenck will fall unwarned into the trap
we set for him. Be silent, therefore, upon the subject. If you
should ever have a favor to ask, come to me with this tabatiere in
your hand. I will remember this hour, and if it is in my power
will grant you what you wish. "
He handed Weingarten his gold, diamond-studded tabatidre,
and received his thanks with approving smiles.
32 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
After he had dismissed the secretary of legation, and was alone,
the smile faded from his face, and his countenance was sad and
disturbed.
"It has come to this," he said, as he paced his room, with his
hands folded behind his back. "This man, whom I once loved so
warmly, wishes to murder me. Ah ! ye proud princes, who imagine
yourselves gods on earth, you are not even safe from a murderer's
dagger, and you are as vulnerable as the commonest beggar. Why
does he wish my death ? Were I a fantastic, romantic hero, I might
gay he hoped to claim his sweetheart over my dead body ! But
Amelia is no longer a person for whom a man would risk his life ;
she is but a faint and sad resemblance of the past her rare beauty
is tear-stained and turned to ashes, but her heart still lives ; it is
young and warm, and belongs to Trenck ! And shall I dissipate this
last illusion ? Must she now learn that he to whom she sacrificed so
much is but a common murderer? No, I will spare her this sorrow !
I will not give Trenck the opportunity to fulfil his work ; even his
intention shall remain doubtful. I shall not go to Konigsberg ; and
if, in his presumptuous thirst for notoriety or for vengeance, he
should enter Prussia, he shall be cared for he shall not escape his
punishment. Let him but try to cross my borders he will find a
snare spread, a cage from which he cannot escape. Yes, so it shall
be. But neither the world nor Trenck shall suspect why this is
done. If my brothers and envious persons hold him up in future as
an example of my hardness of heart, what do I care for their ap-
proval, or the praise of short-sighted men ! I do my duty, and am
answerable only to God and myself. Trenck intends to murder me
I must preserve myself for my people. My mission is not yet
accomplished ; and if a poisonous insect crosses my path, I must
crush it. "
CHAPTER VIII.
THE UNWILLING BRIDEGROOM.
PRINCE HENRY had again passed eight days in arrest eight tedi-
ous days, days of powerless anger and painful humiliation. This
arrest had been, by the king's express orders, so strict, that no one
was allowed to see the prince but Pollnitz, who belonged, as the king
said, to the inventory of the house of Hohenzollern, and, therefore,
all doors were open to him.
Pollnitz alone had, therefore, the pleasure of hearing the com-
plaints, and reproaches, and bitter accusations of the prince against
his brother. Pollnitz always had an attentive ear for these com-
THE UNWILLING BRIDEGROOM. 33
plaints ; and after listening to the prince with every appearance of
real feeling and warm sympathy, he would hasten to the king, and
with drooping eyelids and rejoicing heart repeat the bitter and
hateful words of the unsuspicious prince words that were well
calculated to increase the king's displeasure. The prince still de-
clared that he would not marry, and the king insisted that he must
submit to his will and commands.
Thus the eight days had passed, and Pollnitz came to-day with
the joyful news that his arrest was at an end, and he was now free.
" That means, " said the prince, bitterly, " that I am free to wan-
der through the stupid streets of Potsdam ; appear at his table ; that
my clothes may be soiled by his unbearable four-legged friends, and
my ears deafened by the dull, pedantic conversation of his no less
unbearable two-legged friends."
"Your highness can save yourself from all these small annoy-
ances, " said Pollnitz ; " you have only to marry. "
"Marry, bah ! That means to give my poor sister-in-law, Eliza-
beth Christine, a companion, that they may sing their sorrows to
each other. No, I have not the bravery of my kingly brother, to
make a feeling, human being unhappy in order to satisfy state poli-
tics. No, I possess not the egotism to purchase my freedom with
the life-long misery of another. "
" But, mon Dieu ! my prince, " said Pollnitz, in his cynical way,
" you look at it in too virtuous a manner. All women are not as
good and pure as poor Elizabeth Christine, and know how to com-
pensate themselves in other quarters for the indifference of their
husbands. We are not speaking here of a common marriage, but of
the betrothal of a prince. You do not marry your heart, but your
hand. Truly such a marriage- ceremony is a protecting talisman,
that may be held up to other women as an iron shield upon which
all their egotistical wishes, all their extravagant demands must re-
bound. Moreover, a married man is entirely sans consequence for
all unmarried women, and if they should love such a one, the happy
mortal may be convinced that his love is really a caprice of the
heart, and not a selfish calculation or desire to marry. "
The prince regarded the smiling courtier earnestly, almost
angrily. " Do you know, " he said, " that what you say appears to
me very immoral?"
"Immoral?" asked Pollnitz, astonished; "what is that? Your
princely highness knows that I received my education at the French
court, under the protection of the Regent of Orleans and the Princess
of the Palatinate, and there I never heard this word immoral. Per-
haps your highness will have the kindness to explain it to me. "
" That would be preaching to deaf ears, " said the prince, shrug-
34 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ging his shoulders. "We will not quarrel about the meaning of a
word. I only wish to make you understand that I would not marry
at my brother's bonplaisir. I will not continue this race of miser-
able princes, that are entirely useless, and consequently a burden to
the state. Oh ! if Heaven would only give me the opportunity to
distinguish myself before this people, and give to this name that is
eo small, so unworthy, a splendor, a color, a signification !"
" Your highness is ambitous, " said Pollnitz, as the prince, now
silent, paced his room with deep emotion.
" Yes, I am ambitious I thirst for action, renown, and activity.
I despise this monotonous, colorless existence, without end or aim.
My God ! how happy I should be, if, instead of a prince, I could be
a simple private man, proprietor of a small landed estate, with a
few hundred subjects, that I should endeavor to make happy ! But
1 am nothing but a king's brother, have nothing but my empty title
and the star upon my coat. My income is so small, so pitiful, that
it would scarcely suffice to pay the few servants I have, if, at the
same time, they were not paid by the king as his spies. "
" But all this will cease as soon as you speak the decisive word ;
as soon as you declare yourself prepared to marry. "
"And you dare to tell me this?" cried the prince, with flashing
eyes " you, that know I love a lady who is unfortunately no prin-
cess ; or do you believe that a miserable prince has not the heart of
a man that he does not possess the ardent desire, the painful long-
ing for the woman he loves?"
" Oh, women do not deserve that we should love them so ardently ;
they are all fickle and inconstant, believe me, my prince."
The prince cast a quick, questioning glance at the smiling coun-
tenance of the courtier.
"Why do you say this to me?" he asked, anxiously.
" Because I am convinced of its truth, your highness ; because I
believe no woman has the power to preserve her love when obstacles
are placed in the way, or that she can be faithful for the short spac
of eight days, if her lover is absent. "
The prince was startled, and looked terrified at Pollnitz.
" Eight days, " he murmured ; " it is eight days no, it is twelve
since I saw Louise. "
" Ah, twelve days ! and your highness has the really heroic be-
lief that she still loves you ?"
The prince sighed, and his brow clouded, but only for a few mo-
ments, and his countenance was again bright and his eyes sparkled.
"Yes, I have this belief; and why should I not have it, as my
own heart had stood the trial? I have not seen her for twelve days,
have not heard of her, and still my love is as great and as ardent as
THE UNWILLING BRIDEGROOM. 35
ever. Yes, I believe that at the thought of her my heart beats more
quickly, more longingly than if I had her in my arms. "
" The reason of this, " said Pollnitz, almost sympathetically, " is
that it is your first love. "
Prince Henry looked at him angrily
" You are wrong and most unjust to this beautiful woman, who
remained good and pure in the midst of the corrupting and terrible
circumstances in which destiny placed her. She preserved a chaste
heart, an unspotted soul. Her misfortunes only refined her, and
therefore I love her, and believe that God has placed me in her way
that, after all her sufferings, I might make her happy. Oh, pre-
cisely because of her sorrows, the shameful slanders with which she
is pursued, and all for which she is reproached, I love her. "
" Well, my prince, " sighed Pollnitz, with a tragical expression,
" I never saw a bolder hero and a more pious Christian than your
highness. "
" What do you mean by that, Pollnitz?"
"That an enormous amount of bravery is necessary, prince, to
believe Madame von Kleist chaste and innocent, and that only a
pious Christian can count himself so entirely among those of whom
Christ says, 'Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have be-
lieved. ' May a good fairy long preserve you your bravery and your
Christianity ! But surely your highness must have important and
convincing proofs to believe in the innocence and faithfulness of
this woman. I confess that any other man would have been dis-
couraged in his godlike belief by facts. It is a fact that for twelve
days Madame von Kleist has sent you no message through me ; it is
a fact that she was not at the masked ball ; that as often as I have
been to her in these last days, to deliver letters for your highness,
and to obtain hers in return, she has never received me, always
excused herself ; and, therefore, I could not receive her letters, nor
deliver those of your highness."
"And were you not in Berlin early this morning? Did you not
go to her as I ordered you, and tell her she might expect me this
evening?"
" I went to her house, but in vain ; she was with the queen
mother, and I was told that she would not return until late in the
evening, I therefore could not deliver the message, your highness."
The prince stamped his foot impatiently, and walked hastily
to and fro ; his brow was clouded, his lips trembled with inward
emotion. The sharp eye of the baron followed with an attentive,
pitiless glance every movement of his face, noted every sigh that
came from his anxious heart, that he might judge whether the seeds
of mistrust that he had sown in the breast of the prince would grow.
36 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
But Prince Henry was still young, brave, and hopeful ; it was
his first love they wished to poison, but his young, healthy nature
withstood the venom, and vanquished its evil effects. His counte-
nance resumed its quiet, earnest expression, and the cloud disap-
peared from his brow
" Do you know, " he said, standing before Pollnitz, and looking
smilingly into his cunning face "do you know that you do not
descend, as the rest of mankind, from Adam and Eve, but in a
direct line from the celebrated serpent? And truly you do honor to
your ancestor ! No paradise is holy to you, and to do evil gives you
pleasure. But you shall not disturb my paradise ; and as much of
the old Adam as is still in me, I will not be foolish enough to eat of
the bitter fruit that you offer me. No, you shall not succeed in
making me jealous and distrustful ; you shall not destroy my faith :
and see you, those that believe are still in paradise, notwithstanding
your ancestor, the serpent. "
" My prince, " said Pollnitz, shrugging his shoulders, " your high-
ness looks upon me as a kind of Messiah at least it pleases you to
give me a mother and no father. But oh, my prince ! if you are
right about my descent, philosophers are certainly wrong, for they
maintain that the serpent of paradise left gold as a fearful inheri-
tance to mankind. I shall accuse my great-grandmother the serpent
of disinheriting me and condemning me to live upon the generosity
of my friends and patrons. "
He looked at the prince, with a sly, covetous glance, but he had
not understood him ; engaged in deep thought, he had stepped to
the window, and was gazing up at the heavens, where the clouds
were chasing each other.
" She will be the entire day with my mother, and I shall not see
her," he murmured. Then, turning hastily to Pollnitz, he asked,
"How is the queen-mother? Did I not hear that she was suffer-
ing?"
" Certainly, your highness, a severe attack of gout confines her to
her chair, and holds her prisoner. "
" Poor mother ! it is long since I saw you. "
" It is true, the queen complained of it the last time I spoke with
her, " said Pollnitz, with a perfectly serious face, but with inward
rejoicing.
Another pause ensued. The prince appeared to reflect, and to
struggle with his own thoughts and wishes. Pollnitz stood behind
him, and noted every motion, every sigh that he uttered, with his
malicious smiles.
" I believe, " said the prince, with still averted face, perhaps to
prevent Pollnitz from seeing his blushes "I believe it would be
THE UNWILLING BRIDEGROOM. 37
proper for me to inquire to-day personally after my mother's health ;
it is not only my duty to do so, but the desire of my heart. "
" Her majesty will be pleased to see her beloved son again, and
this pleasure will hasten her recovery. "
The prince turned hastily and glanced sharply at Pollnitz, as if
he wished to read his inmost thoughts. But the countenance of the
courtier was earnest and respectful.
"If that is your opinion, " said the prince, with a happy smile,
"my duty as a son demands that I should hasten to the queen, and I
will go immediately to Berlin. But as I am going to my mother,
and solely on her account, I will do it in the proper form. Have,
therefore, the kindness to obtain my leave of the king bring me
my brother's answer immediately, I only await it to depart. "
"And I hasten to bring it to your highness," said Pollnitz, with
drawing.
Prince Henry looked thoughtfully after him.
" I shall see her, " he murmured ; " I shall speak with her, and
shall learn why she withdrew herself so long from me. Oh, I know
she will be able to justify herself, and these slanders and evil reports
will flee before her glance as clouds before the rays of the sun. "
In the mean while, Pollnitz hastened to Sans Souci, where he
was immediately received by the king.
" Your majesty, " he said, joyfully, " the young lion has fallen
into the net that we set for him. "
" He goes then to Berlin, to the queen-mother?" asked the king,
quickly.
"He begs your majesty's permission to take this little trip."
"He really charged you with this commission?"
M Yes, sire : it appears that his obstinacy is beginning to relent,
and that he thinks of submitting. "
The king was silent, and walked thoughtfully to and fro, with
clouded brow, then remained standing before Pollnitz, and looked
sharply and piercingly at him.
" You rejoice, " he said, coldly, " but you only think of your own
advantage. You are indifferent to the sorrow we are preparing for
my brother. You only think that your debts will be paid. Yes, I
will pay them, but I shall never forget that you have betrayed my
brother's confidence."
"I only acted according to your majesty's commands," said Poll-
nitz, confounded.
" Certainly, but if you had resisted my commands, I would ha.ve
esteemed and prized you the more. Now, I shall pay your debts,
but I shall despise you. No one has reasons for thanking you. "
"Sire, I desire no other thanks. Had I been paid with money
38 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
for my services, instead of fine speeches, I would have been as rich
as Croesus. "
"And a beggar in virtue," said the king, smiling. "But go, I
was wrong to reproach you. I shall now go to Berlin, and when
my brother arrives he shall find me there. Go now, my grand
chamberlain, and take the prince my permission for a three days'
absence. "
CHAPTER IX.
THE FIRST DISAPPOINTMENT.
A FEW hours later the equipage of Prince Henry arrived in the
court-yard of Monbijou, and the prince demanded of his mother, the
widowed queen, permission to pay her his respects.
Sophia Dorothea was suffering greatly. The gout, that slow but
fatal disease, which does not kill at once, but limb by limb, had
already paralyzed the feet of the poor queen, and confined her to her
chair. To-day her sufferings were greater than usual, and she was
not able to leave her bed. Therefore, she could not receive the
prince as a queen, but only as a mother, without ceremony or eti-
quette. That the meeting might be entirely without constraint, the
maids of honor left the queen's room, and as the prince entered, he
saw the ladies disappearing by another door ; the last one had just
made her farewell bow, and was kissing respectfully the queen's
hand.
This was Louise von Kleist, for whose sake the prince had come,
and for whom his heart throbbed painfully. He could have cried
aloud for joy as he saw her in her bewildering loveliness, her luxu-
riant beauty. He longed to seize her hands and cover them with
kisses to tell her how much he had suffered, how much he was still
suffering for her sake.
But Louise appeared not to have seen him, not to have noticed
his entrance. She had only eyes and ears for the queen, who was
just dismissing her with winning words, telling her to remain in
the castle and return when she desired to see her.
"I shall remain and await your majesty's commands," said
Louise, withdrawing hastily.
The queen now greeted the prince as if she had just observed
him, and invited him to be seated on thefauteuil near her couch.
The prince obeyed, but he was absent-minded and restless, and
the more the queen endeavored to engage him in harmless and un-
constrained conversation, the more monosyllabic and preoccupied
THE FIRST DISAPPOINTMENT. 39
he became. The poor prince remembered only that his beloved was
so near, that only a door separated them, and prevented him from
gazing on her beauty.
Yes, Louise was really in the next room, in the cabinet of the
queen, sorrowful and exhausted ; she had fallen upon the little sofa
near the door, the smile had left her lips, and her brilliant, bewitch-
ing eyes were filled with tears. Louise wept ; she wept for her last
youthful dream, her last hope of happiness and virtue, for her sad,
shadowed future and wounded pride ; for to-day she had to resign
forever the proud hopes, the brilliant future for which she had
striven with so much energy.
But it was vain to struggle against this hard necessity. The
king had given her his orders and was there to see them carried out.
He sat behind that portiere that led into the grand saloon ; he had
just left Louise, and, before going, had said to her, in a stern, com-
manding tone :
* You will fulfil my commands accurately. You know that Fritz
Wendel still lives, and that I shall be inexorable if you do not act as
you have promised. "
Louise submitted respectfully to the king's commands ; she ac-
cepted her fate, but she wept bitterly, and when she felt that the
king's eyes were no longer upon her, her tears flowed unceasingly.
Perhaps Frederick still saw her, or suspected her weakness, for
the portiere opened slightly, and his noble, but stern countenance
appeared.
" Madame, " he said, " if the prince sees you with tearful eyes, he
will not believe in your happiness. "
Louise smiled painfully. " Ah ! sire, he will believe I am weep-
ing for joy. I have often heard of joyful tears. "
The king did not reply ; he felt for her agony, and closed the
portiere.
" I will cry no more, " she said ; " I have accepted my destiny,
and will fulfil it bravely for the sake of my daughter. It concerns
Camilla's happiness more than my own. I will deserve the respect
of my unfortunate child. "
In saying this, a smile like a sunbeam illuminated her counte-
nance. But now she started up, and laid her hand in terror upon
her heart. She heard steps approaching. The door moved, and in
a moment the king appeared and motioned to her.
" Courage, courage !" murmured Louise, and with instinctive
fear she flew away from the door and placed herself in the niche of
the last window.
To reach her, the prince must cross the saloon ; that would give
her a few moments to recover. The door opened and Prince Henry
40 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
entered ; his glance flew quickly over the saloon, and found the one
he sought.
Louise could have shrieked with agony when she saw the tender
smile with which he greeted her. Never had he appeared so hand-
some, so noble as at this moment, when she must resign him for-
ever.
But there was no time to think of this, no time for complaints or
regrets. He was there, he stood before her, offered both his hands,
and greeted her with the tenderest words of love.
Louise had a stern part to play, and she dared not listen to her
heart's pleadings.
" Ah, my prince, " she said, with a laugh that sounded to herself
like the wail of a lost soul "ah, my prince, take care ! we women
are very credulous, and I might take your jesting words for truth. "
" I advise you to do so, " said the prince, happy and unconcerned
" Yes, Louise, I advise you to do so, for you know well that my jest-
ing words have an earnest meaning. And now that we are alone,
we will dispense with ceremony. You must justify yourself before
a lover a lover who is unfortunately very jealous. Yes, yes, Louise,
that is my weakness ; I do not deny it, I am jealous jealous of all
those who keep you from me, who prevent my receiving your letters. "
" My letters !" said Louise, astonished ; " why should I have
written letters to your highness? I do not believe it is the custom
for ladies to write to gentlemen voluntarily. It has been two
weeks since I received a letter from your highness. "
" Because it was impossible for my messenger to deliver them,
Louise ; you were so unapproachable, at least for me. But you
must have known that my thoughts were always with you, that my
heart pined for news and comfort from you. "
" Non, vraiment, I did not know it," said Louise, laughingly.
"You did not know it?" asked Henry, wonderingly. "Well,
what did you suppose ?"
" I thought, " she said, carelessly " I thought that Prince Henry
had overcome or forgotten his little folly of the carnival. "
"And then?"
" Then I determined to follow his example. Then I preached a
long sermon to my foolish eyes they were misty with tears. Listen,
I said to them: 'You foolish things you have no reason to weep;
you should always look bright and dazzling, even if you never see
Prince Henry again. Really, the absence of the prince has been
most fortunate for you. You might have whispered all kinds of
foolish things to my weak heart. The prince is young, handsome,
and amiable, and it amuses him to win the love of fair ladies. Had
you seen him more frequently, it is possible he might have succeeded
THE FIRST DISAPPOINTMENT. 41
with poor Louise, and the little flirtation we carried on together
would have resulted in earnest love on my part. That would have
been a great misfortune. Laugh and look joyous, beautiful eyes,
you have saved me from an unrequited love. You should not weep,
but rejoice. Look around and find another suitor, who would, per-
haps, love me so fondly that he could not forget me in a few days ;
whose love I might return with ardor. ' This, my prince, is the
sermon I preached to my eyes when they grew dim with tears. "
"And was your sermon effective?" said the prince, with pale,
trembling lips. " Did your eyes, those obedient slaves, look around
and find another lover?"
" Ah ! your highness, how can you doubt it? My eyes are indeed
my slaves, and must obey. Yes, they looked and found the happi-
ness they sought. "
" What happiness, " asked Henry, apparently quite tranquil, but
he pressed his hand nervously on the chair that stood by him " what
happiness did your eyes find?"
Louise looked at him and sighed deeply. " The happiness, " she
said, and against her will her voice trembled and faltered " the
happiness that a true, earnest love alone can give which I have
received joyously into my heart as a gift from God. "
The prince laughed aloud, but his face had a wild, despairing ex-
pression, and his hands clasped the chair more firmly.
"I do not understand your holy, pious words. What do they
mean? What do you wish to say?"
" They mean that I now love so truly and so earnestly that I have
promised to become the wife of the man I love, " said Louise, with
forced gayety.
The prince uttered a wild cry, and raised his hands as if to curse
the one who had wounded him so painfully.
"If this is true," he said, in a deep, hollow voice "if this is
true, I despise, I hate you, and they are right who call you a heart-
less coquette."
" Ah, my prince, you insult me, " cried Louise.
"I insult you!" he said, with a wild laugh; "verily, I believe
this woman has the effrontery to reproach me I who believed in
and defended her against every accusation I that had the courage
to love and trust, when all others distrusted and despised her. Yes,
madame, I loved you ; I saw in you a goddess, where others saw
only a coquette. I adored you as an innocent sacrifice to envy and
malice ; I saw a martyr's crown upon your brow, and wished to
change it for the myrtle-crown of marriage. And my love and
hopes are dust and ashes ; it is enough to drive me mad enough to
stifle me with rage and shame. "
4
42 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Carried away by passion, the prince ran wildly through the sa-
loon, gasping for air, struggling for composure, and now and then
uttering words of imprecation and despair.
Louisea waited, in silence and resignation, the end of this stormy
crisis. She questioned her heart if this bitter hour was not sufficient
atonement for all her faults and follies ; if the agony she now suffered
did not wipe out and extirpate the past.
The prince still paced the room violently. Suddenly, as if a new
thought had seized him, he remained standing in the middle of the
saloon, and looked at Louise with a strangely altered countenance.
She had forgotten for a moment the part she was condemned to play,
and leaned, pale and sad, against the window.
Perhaps he heard her sorrowful sighs perhaps he saw her tears
as they rolled one by one from her eyes, and fell like pearls upon her
small white hands.
Anger disappeared from his face, his brow cleared, and as he
approached Louise his eyes sparkled with another and milder fire.
"Louise," he said, softly, and his voice, which had before raged
like a stormy wind, was now mild and tender "Louise, I have
divined your purpose I know all now. At first, I did not under-
stand your words ; in my folly and jealousy I misconceived your
meaning ; you only wished to try me, to see if my love was armed
and strong, if it was as bold and faithful as I have sworn it to be.
Well, I stood the test badly, was weak and faint-hearted ; but for-
give me forgive me, Louise, and strengthen my heart by confi-
dence and faith in me. "
He tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it.
"Must I repeat to your highness what I have said before? I do
not understand you. What do you mean?"
" Ah, " said the prince, " you are again my naughty, sportive
Louise. Well, then, I will explain. Did you not say that you now
love so truly, that you have promised to become the wife of the man
you love ?"
"Yes, I said that, your highness. "
" And I, " said the prince, seizing both her hands and gazing at
her ardently " I was so short-sighted, so ungrateful, as not to un-
derstand you. The many sorrows and vexations I suffer away from
you have dimmed my eyes and prevented me from seeing what is
written with golden letters upon your smiling lips and beaming
eyes. Ah, Louise, I thank you for your precious words ; -at last you
are captured, at last you have resolved to become the wife of him
who adores you. I thank you, Louise, I thank you, and I swear
that no earthly pomp or power could make me as proud and happy
as this assurance of your love. "
THE FIRST DISAPPOINTMENT. 43
Louise gazed into his beautiful, smiling face with terror.
" Ah, my prince, my words have not the meaning you imagine.
I spoke the simple truth. My heart has made its choice since yes-
terday, I am the betrothed wife of Captain du Trouffle. "
" That is not true, " cried the prince, casting her hands violently
from him. "You are very cruel to-day ; you torture me with your
fearful jests. "
"No, your highness, I speak the truth. I am the betrothed of
Captain du Trouffle. "
" Since yesterday you are the betrothed of Captain du Trouffle !"
repeated the prince, staring at her wildly. " And you say you love
him, Louise?"
"Yes, your highness, I love him," said Louise, with a faint
smile.
" It is impossible, " cried the prince ; " it is not true. "
"And why should I deceive your highness?"
"Why? ah, I understand all. Oh, Louise, my poor darling,
how short-sighted I have been ! Why did I not immediately suspect
my brother ? he has spies to watch all my movements ; they have
at last discovered my love for you. Pollnitz, who would do any
thing for gold, has betrayed us to the king, who condemns me to
marry according to my rank, and, to carry out his purpose surely,
he now forces you to marry. Oh, Louise, say that this is so ; ac-
knowledge that the power of the king, and not your own heart,
forced you to this engagement. It is impossible, it cannot be that
you have forgotten the vows that we exchanged scarcely two weeks
ago. It cannot be that you look upon the heart that loved you so
deeply, so purely, as an idle plaything, to be thrown away so lightly !
No, no, Louise, I have seen often in your beaming eyes, your elo-
quent smiles, I have felt in your soft and tender tones, that you
loved me fondly ; and now in your pale, sad face I see that you love
me still, and that it is the king who wishes to separate us. My
poor, lovely child, you have been intimidated ; you think that my
brother, who reigns supreme over millions, will yield to no obstacle,
that it is vain to resist him. But you are mistaken, Louise ; you
have forgotten that I am Frederick's brother, that the proud, un
conquerable blood of the Hohenzollerns flows also in my veins. Let
my brother try to force me to his purpose ; I shall be no weak tool
in his hands. You had not firm confidence in your lover, Louise ;
you did not know that I would resign cheerfully rank and all family
ties for your sake ; you did not know that I had sworn to marry only
the woman I lovr . This I must do to satisfy my heart and my
honor, and also to show the king that Prince Henry is a free man.
Now tell me, Louise, if I have not divined all. Is not this the
44 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
king's cruel work? Ah, you do not answer, you are silent. I un-
derstand the king has made you swear not to betray him. Now
look at me, Louise ; make me a sign with your hand, tell me with
your eyes, and I will comprehend you I will take you in my arms
and carry you to the altar. My God ! Louise do you not see that I
am waiting for this sign? that you are torturing me?"
Louise raised her head, her heart was melting within her ; she
forgot her terror, and was ready to resist God, the king, and the
whole world, to grasp the noble and unselfish love that the prince
offered her. But her glance fell involuntarily upon the curtain, be-
hind which the king stood, and it seemed to her as if she saw the
angry, burning eyes of Frederick threatening to destroy her. She
remembered her daughter, Fritz Wendel, and the world's mocking
laughter, and was overcome.
" You are still silent, " said the prince ; " you give me neither
sign nor glance. "
Louise felt as if an iron hand was tearing her heart asunder.
" I really am at a loss what more to say or do, " she said, in a
careless tone, that made her own heart shudder. " It pleases your
highness to make a jest of what I say. I am innocent, my prince,
of any double meaning. Five weeks have passed since I saw you
I believed you had forgotten me ; I did not reproach you, neither
was I in despair. I soon found that it was stupid and dreary to
have my heart unoccupied, and I sought for and soon found a lover,
to whom my heart became a willing captive. Therefore, when
Captain Trouffle pleaded earnestly for my hand, I had not the cour-
age to say no. This is my only crime, your highness. I was not
cruel to myself ; I received the happiness that was offered. I have
been called a coquette, my prince ; it is time to bind myself in mar-
riage bonds, and show the world that love can make an honest
woman of me. Can your highness blame me for this?"
The prince listened with breathless attention ; gradually his
countenance changed, the color faded from his cheeks, the light
from his eyes ; a smile was still on his lips, but it was cold and
mocking ; his eyes burned with anger and contempt.
"No, madame, " he said, with calm, proud indifference, "I do
not blame you I praise, I congratulate you. Captain du Trouffle is
a most fortunate man he will possess a most beautiful wife. When
will this happy ceremony be performed?"
Madame von Kleist was unable to reply. She gazed with wild
terror into his cold, iron face she listened with horror to that voice,
whose mild, soft tone had become suddenly so harsh, so stern.
The prince repeated his question, and his tone was harder and
more imperious.
THE FIRST DISAPPOINTMENT. 45
"The day is not fixed," said Louise; "we must first obtain the
king's consent to our marriage."
" I shall take care it does not fail you, * said the prince, quietly.
" I will strengthen your petition to the king. Now, madame, you
must forgive me for leaving you. Many greetings to your betrothed
I shall be introduced to him to-morrow at the parade. Farewell,
madame !"
The prince made a slight bow, and, without glancing at her
again, left the room slowly and proudly.
Louise gazed after him with mournful eyes, but he did not see
it ; he did not see how she fell, as if broken, to the floor, as if struck
by lightning ; and when the door closed on him she held her hands
to Heaven pleadingly for mercy and forgiveness.
The portiere now opened, and the king entered ; his countenance
was pale, his eyes tearful, but they sparkled with anger when he
saw Louise upon the floor. For him she was but a heartless coquette,
and he was angry with her because of the suffering she had caused
his brother, for whom he felt the deepest pity and compassion.
But that was now past ; the brother could weep a tear of pity,
the king must be firm and relentless.
As he approached her, she raised herself from the ground and
made a profound and ceremonious bow.
" You have repaired much of the evil you have done, madame, "
said the king, sternly. "You have played a dishonorable game
with my brother. You enticed him to love you. "
" I think I have atoned, sire, " said Louise, faintly ; " the prince
no longer loves but despises me. Your commands are fulfilled to
the letter, and I now beg your majesty's permission to withdraw. "
" Go. madame ; you have done your duty to-day, and I will also
do mine. I shall not forget what I promised you when you are
Madame du Trouflfle. We will forget all the faults of Madame von
Kleist."
He dismissed her with a slight bow, and gazed after her until
she had disappeared.
At this moment, a heavy fall was heard in the antechamber.
The door opened immediately, and the pale, disturbed face of P611-
nitz appeared.
"What is the matter, Pollnitz?" asked the king, hastily.
" Oh, sire, poor Prince Henry has fainted. "
The king was startled, and stepped quickly to the door, but he
remained standing there until his features resumed their calm
expression.
" He will recover, " he said " he will recover, for he is a man ;
in my youthful days I often fainted, but I recovered. "
46 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
CHAPTER X.
THE CONQUERED.
PAINFUL and bitter were the days for Henry that followed his
first disappointment. He passed them in rigid seclusion, in his
lonely chambers ; he would see no one, no cheerful word or gay
laughter was allowed in his presence. The servants looked at him
sorrowfully ; and when the prince appeared at the parade the day
after his painful interview with Louise, even the king found him so
pale and suffering, he begged him to take a week's leave and
strengthen and improve his health.
The prince smiled painfully at the king's proposition, but he
accepted his leave of absence, and withdrew to the solitude of his
rooms. His heart was wounded unto death, his soul was agonized.
Youth soon laid its healing balm upon his wounds and closed
them ; anger and contempt dried his tears, and soothed the anguish
of his heart.
The king was right when he said of his brother, " He is a man,
and will recover." He did recover, and these days of suffering
made a man of him ; his brow, once so clear and youthful, had re-
ceived its first mark of sorrow ; the lines of his face were harsh and
stern, his features sharper and more decided. He had experienced
his first disappointment it had nerved and strengthened him.
Before his eight days' leave of absence had expired, his door was
again open to his circle of friends and confidants.
His first invited guest was the grand chamberlain, Baron Poll-
nitz. The prince welcomed him with a bright and cheerful face.
" Do you know why I wished to see you ?" he asked. " You must
tell me the chronique scandaleuse of our most honorable and virtuous
city. Commence immediately. What is the on dit of the day?"
" Ah, " sighed Pollnitz, " life is now stupid, dull, and monotonous.
As you say, every one has become most honorable and virtuous. No
scandals or piquant adventures occur ; baptisms, marriages, and
burials are the only events. This is really a miserable existence ;
for as I do not wish to be baptized or to marry, and as I am not yet
ready for burial, I really do not know why I exist. "
"But those that are married and baptized, doubtless know why
they exist," said the prince, smiling. "Tell rne something of this
happy class. Whose, for example, is the latest marriage?"
"The latest marriage?" said Pollnitz, hesitating " before answer-
ing, I must allow myself to ask after the condition of your heart.
Does it still suffer?"
THE CONQUERED. 47
"No," cried the piince, "it does not suffer ; it received a heavy
shower of cold water, and was cured instantly. "
"I rejoice to hear it, your highness, and congratulate you on
your recovery, for truly there is no more painful disease than a
suffering heart. "
" I told you that I had recovered fully ; tell me, therefore, your
news without hesitation. You spoke of a marriage. Who were
the happy lovers?"
"Your highness, Madame von Kleist has married," murmured
Pollnitz.
The prince received this blow without betraying the slightest
emotion.
"When did the marriage take place?" he asked, with perfect
composure.
" Yesterday ; and I assure your highness that I never saw a hap-
pier or more brilliant bride. Love has transformed her into a
blushing, timid maiden. "
Prince Henry pressed his hand upon his heart with a quick, un-
conscious movement.
" I can well imagine that she was beautiful, " said he, controlling
his voice with a great effort. " Madame von Kleist is happy, and
happiness always beautifies. And the bridegroom, M. du Trouffle,
was he also handsome and happy?"
" Your highness knows the name of the bride-groom, " said Poll-
nitz, appearing astonished.
" Yes, Madame von Kleist told me herself when she announced
her approaching marriage. But I am not acquainted with Du
Trouffle is he handsome?"
"Handsome and amiable, your highness, and besides, a very
good officer. The king gave him, as a wedding present, a major's
commission. "
" Then the beautiful Louise is now Mrs. Major du Trouffle, " said
the prince, with a troubled smile. " Were you present at the wedding ?"
" Yes, in the name of the king. "
"Did she speak the decisive Yes, the vow of faith and obedience,
with earnestness and confidence? Did she not blush, or droop her
eyelids in doing so?"
" Oh, no ; she smiled as if entranced, and raised her eyes to
heaven, as if praying for God's blessing upon her vows."
" One thing more, " said the prince, fixing his large, grave eyes
with a searching expression upon Pollnitz "what is said of me?
Am I regarded as a rejected lover, or as a faithless one ; for doubt-
less all Berlin knows of my love for this lady, you having been our
confidant. "
48 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Oh, my prince, that is a hard insinuation, " said Pollnitz, sadly.
" Your highness cannot really believe that "
" No protestations, I pray you, " interrupted the prince, " I believe
I know you thoroughly, but I am not angry with you nor do I re-
proach you : you are a courtier, and one of the best and rarest type ;
you have intellect and knowledge, much experience and savoir
vivre ; I could desire no better company than yourself ; but for one
moment cast aside your character as a courtier, and tell me the
truth : what does the world say of this marriage in regard to
me?"
" Your highness desires me to tell you the truth ?"
Yes, I do."
"Now the important moment has come," thought Pollnitz.
" Now, if I am adroit, I believe I can obtain the payment of my
debts."
"Well, then, your highness," said Pollnitz, in answer to the
prince, "I will tell you the truth, even should I incur your dis-
pleasure. I fear, my prince, you are regarded as a rejected lover,
and Madame du Trouffle has succeeded in throwing a holy lustre
around her beautiful brow. It is said that she refused your dishon-
orable proposals, and preferred being the virtuous wife of a major,
to becoming the mistress of a prince."
" Go on, " said the prince, hastily, as Pollnitz ceased, and looked
searchingly at him. " What do they say of me?"
"That you are in despair, and that you have retired to your
chambers to weep and mourn over your lost love. "
"Ah, they say that, do they?" cried the prince, with flashing
eyes and darkened brow ; " well, I will show this credulous world
that they are mistaken. Is the king in Sans-Souci?"
" Yes, your highness. "
"Well, go to him, and announce my visit ; I will follow you on
foot."
"We have won the day," cried Pollnitz, as he approached the
king ; " the prince desires to make you a visit. He will be here
immediately. "
"Do you know what my brother wishes of me?" asked the king.
" I do not know, but I suspect, sire. I think he wishes to marry,
in order to pique his faithless sweetheart."
" Go and receive the prince, and conduct him to me ; then remain
in the antechameber, and await until I call. "
When Pollnitz left, the king seized his flute hastily and began to
play a soft, melting adagio. He was still playing, when the door
opened, and the prince was announced. Henry stood in the door-
way, and made the king a ceremonious bow.
THE CONQUERED. 49
The king continued to play. The low, pleading notes of the flute
floated softly through the room ; they touched the heart of the
prince, and quieted its wild, stormy beating.
Was that the king's intention, or did he intend to harmonize his
own spirit before speaking to his brother? Perhaps both, for
Frederick's glance softened, and his face assumed a kind and mild
expression.
When the adagio was finished, the king laid his flute aside and
approached the prince.
" Forgive me, brother, " he said, offering his hand " forgive me
for keeping you waiting, I always like to conclude what I com-
mence. Now, I am entirely at your service, and as I am unfortu-
nately not accustomed to receive such friendly visits from you, I
must ask you what brings you to me, and how I can serve you ?"
The fierce, violent nature of the prince slumbered but lightly.
The king's words aroused it, and made his pulse and heart beat
stormily.
"How you can serve me, my brother?" he said, hastily. "I will
tell you, and truthfully, sire. "
The king raised his head, and glanced angrily at the burning face
of the prince.
" I am not accustomed to have my words repeated, and all find
that out here to their cost," he said, sternly.
" Have the goodness, then, to tell me why you have pursued me
so long and unrelentingly? What have I done to deserve your dis-
pleasure and such bitter humiliations?"
" Rather ask me what you have done to deserve my love and con-
fidence, " said the king, sternly. " I refer you to your own heart for
an answer. "
" Ah, your majesty promised to answer my questions, and now
you evade them ; but I will reply frankly. I have done nothing to
deserve your love, but also nothing to make me unworthy of it.
Why are you, who are so good and kind to all others, so stern and
harsh with me ?"
" I will tell you the truth, " said the king, earnestly. " You have
deserved my displeasure ; you have desired to be a free man, to cast
aside the yoke that Providence placed upon you ; you had the grand
presumption to dare to be the master of your own actions. "
" And does your majesty desire and expect me to resign this most
natural of human rights?" said the prince, angrily.
" Yes, I desire and expect it. I can truthfully say that I have
given my brothers a good example in this particular. "
"But you did not do this willingly. You were cruelly forced to
submission, and you now wish to drive us to an extremity you have,
50 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
doubtlessly, long since forgotten. Now, you suffered and struggled
before declaring yourself conquered. "
" No, " said the king, softly, " I have not forgotten. I still feel
the wound in my soul, and at times it burns. "
"And yet, my brother?"
"And yet I will have no pity with you. I say to you, as my
father said to me : 'You must submit ; you are a prince, and I am
your king !' I have long since acknowledged that my father was
right in his conduct to me. I was not only a disobedient son, but a
rebellious subject. I richly deserved to mount the scaffold with
Katte."
"Ah, my brother, there was a time when you wept for this faith-
ful and unfortunate friend, " cried the prince, reproachfully.
" The sons of kings have not the right to choose their own path,
destiny has marked it out for them ; they must follow it without
wavering. I neither placed the crown upon my head, nor the yoke
upon your neck. We must bear them patiently, as God and Provi-
dence have ordained, and wear them with grace and dignity. You,
my brother, have acted like a wild horse of the desert I have drawn
the reins tight, that is all !"
"You have caught, bound, and tamed me," said the prince, with
a faint smile ; " only I feel that the bit still pains, and that my
limbs still tremble. But I am ready to submit, and I came to tell
you so. You desire me to marry, I consent ; but I hold you respon-
sible for the happiness of this marriage. At God's throne, I will
call you to justify yourself, and there we will speak as equals, as
man to man. What right had you to rob me of my most holy and
beautiful possession? What right have you to lay a heavy chain
on heart and hand, that love will not help me to bear? I hold you
responsible for my miserable life, my shattered hopes. Will you
accept these conditions? Do you still wish me to marry?"
" I accept the conditions, " said the king, solemnly. " I desire
you to marry. "
"I presume your majesty has chosen a bride for me?"
"You are right, mon cher frere. I have selected the Princess
Wilhelmina, daughter of Prince Max, of Hesse- Cassel. She not
only brings you a fortune, but youth, beauty, and amiability. "
" I thank you, sire, " said the prince, coldly and formally. " I
would marry her if she were ugly, old, and unamiable. But is it
allowed me to add one condition ?"
" Speak, my brother, I am listening. "
The prince did not anwser immediately ; he breathed quickly
and heavily, and a glowing red suffused his pale, trembling face.
" Speak, my brother. Name your conditions, " said the king.
THE CONQUERED. 51
" Well, then, so be it. My first condition is that I may be allowed
to have a brilliant wedding. I wish to invite not only the entire
court, but a goodly number of Berliners ; I desire all Berlin to take
part in my happiness, and to convince every one, by my gay de-
meanor and my entertainment, that I joyfully accept my bride, the
princess. "
The king's eyes rested sorrowfully upon his brother's counte-
nance. He fully understood the emotions of his heart, and knew
that his brother wished to wound and humiliate his faithless sweet-
heart by his marriage ; that Henry only submitted to his wishes be-
cause his proud heart rebelled at the thought of being pitied as a
rejected lover. But he was considerate, and would not let it appear
that he understood him.
" I agree to this first proposition, " said the king, after a pause,
"and I hope you will allow me to be present at this beautiful fete,
and convince Berlin that we are in hearty unison. Have you no
other conditions?"
" Yes, one more. "
"What is it?"
" That my marriage shall take place, at the latest, in a month. "
" You will thus fulfil my particular and personal wish, " said the
king, smiling. " I am anxious to have this marriage over, for, after
the gayeties, I wish to leave Berlin. All' the arrangements and
contracts are completed, and I think now there is no obstacle in thf
way of the marriage. Have you another wish, my brother?"
"No, sire."
" Then allow me to beg you to grant me a favor. I wish to leave
a kind remembrance of this eventful hour in your heart, and I there-
fore give you a small memento of the same. Will you accept my
castle of Rheinsberg, with all its surroundings, as a present from
me? Will you grant me this pleasure, my brother?"
The king offered his hand, with a loving smile, to Henry, and
received with apparent pleasure his ardent thanks.
"I chose Rheinsberg," he said, kindly, "not because it is my
favorite palace, and I have passed many pleasant and happy days
there, but because none of my other palaces are so appropriate for a
prince who is discontented with his king. I have made that expe-
rience myself, and I give you Rheinsberg, as my father gave it to
me. Go to Rheinsberg when you are angry with me and the world :
there you can pass the first months of your marriage, and God grant
it may be a happy one !"
The prince answered him with a cold smile, and begged leave to
withdraw, that he might make the necessary preparations for his
wedding.
52 FEEDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" We will both make our preparations, " said the king, as he bade
the prince farewell "you with your major-domo, and I with Baron
Pollnitz, whom I shall send as ambassador to Cassel. "
CHAPTER XI.
THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS.
THE feasts, illuminations, and balls given in honor of the newly-
married couple, Henry and his wife, the Princess Wilhelmina,
were at an end. The prince and his followers had withdrawn to
Rheinsberg, and many were the rumors in Berlin of the brilliant
feasts with which he welcomed his beautiful bride. She was truly
lovely, and the good Berliners, who had received her with such
hearty greetings when she appeared with the prince on the balcony,
or showed herself to the people in an open carriage, declared there
could be no happier couple than the prince and his wife ; they de-
clared that the large, dark eyes of the princess rested upon the prince
with inexpressible tenderness, and that the prince always returned
her glance with a joyous smile. It was therefore decided that the
prince was a happy husband, and the blessings of the Berliners fol-
lowed the charming princess to Rheinsberg, where the young couple
were to pass their honeymoon.
While the prince was giving splendid fetes, and seeking distrac-
tion, and hoping to forget his private griefs, or perhaps wishing
to deceive the world as to his real feelings, the kingleftSans-Souci, to
commence one of his customary military inspection trips. But he did
not go to Konigsberg, as was supposed ; and if Trenck really had the
intention of murdering him during his sojourn there, it was ren-
dered impossible by the cnange in the king's plans. Frederick made
a tour in his Rhine provinces. At Cleves he dismissed his followers,
and they returned to Benin.
The king declared he needed rest, and wished to pass a few days
in undisturbed quiet at the castle of Moyland.
No one accompanied him but Colonel Balby, his intimate friend,
and his cabinet-hussar, Deesen. The king was in an uncommonly
good humor, and his eyes sparkled with delight. After a short rest
in his chamber, he desired to see Colonel Balby.
To his great astonishment, the colonel found him searching
through a trunk, which contained a few articles of clothing little
calculated to arrest the attention of a king.
" Balby, " said the king, solemnly, but with a roguish sparkle of
the eye, "I wish to present you this plain brown suit. I owe you a
THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS. 53
reward for your hearty friendship and your faithful services. This
is a princely gift. Take it as a mark of my grateful regard. That
you may be convinced, Balby, that I have long been occupied in
preparing this surprise for you, I inform you that these rich articles
were made secretly for you in Berlin, by your tailor ; I packed them
myself, and brought them here for you. Accept them, then, my
friend, and wear them in memory of Frederick. "
With a solemn bow, the king offered Balby the clothes.
The colonel received this strange present with an astonished and
somewhat confused countenance.
The king laughed merrily. "What, "he said, pathetically, "are
you not contented with the favor I have shown you ?"
Balby knew by the comic manner of the king that the sombre
suit hid a secret, and he thought it wise to allow the king to take
his own time for explanation.
" Sire, " he said, emphatically, " content is not the word to express
my rapture. I am enthusiastic, speechless at this unheard-of favor.
I am filled with profound gratitude to your majesty for having in-
vented a new costume for me, whose lovely color will make me
appear like a large coffee-bean, and make all the coffee sisters adore
me."
The king was highly amused. "This dress certainly has the
power of enchantment. When Colonel Balby puts on these clothes
he will be invisible, but he shall not undergo this transformation
alone. See, here is another suit, exactly like yours, and this is
mine. When I array myself in it, I am no longer the king of Prussia,
but a free, happy man. "
"Ah, you are speaking of a disguise, " cried the colonel.
"Yes, we will amuse ourselves by playing the role of common
men for a while, and wander about unnoticed and undisturbed.
Are you agreed, Balby, or do you love your colonel's uniform better
than your freedom ?"
"Am I agreed, sire?" cried the colonel; "I am delighted with
this genial thought."
"Then take your dress, friend, and put it on. But stay. Did
you bring your violin with you, as I told you ?"
"Yes, sire."
" Well, then, when you are dressed, put your violin in a case,
and with the case under your arm, and a little money in your pocket,
go to the pavilion at the farthest end of the garden ; there I will
meet you. Now hasten, friend, we have no time to lose."
According to the king's orders, Colonel Balby dressed and went
to the pavilion. He did not find the king, but two strange men
there. One of them had on a brown coat, the color of his own
54 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Ornamented with large buttons of mother-of pearl ; black panta-
loons, and shoes with large buckles, set with dull white stones ; the
lace on his sleeves and vest was very coarse. He wore a three-cor-
nered hat, without ornament ; from under the hat fell long, brown,
unpowdered hair.
Behind this stranger there stood another, in plain, simple
clothes ; under one arm he carried a small bag, and under the other
a case that contained either a yard-stick or a flute. He returned
the colonel's salutation with a grimace and a profound bow. A
short pause ensued, then the supposed strangers laughed heartily
and exclaimed :
" Do you not know us, Balby ?"
Their voices started the colonel, and he stepped back.
" Sire, it is yourself. "
" Yes, it is I, Frederick not the king. Yes, I am Frederick, and
this capital servant is my good Deesen, who has sworn solemnly not
to betray our incognito, and to give no one reason to suspect his
high dignity as royal cabinet-hussar. For love of us he will, for a
few days, be the servant of two simple, untitled musicians, who are
travelling around the world, seeking their fortunes, but who, un-
fortunately, have no letters of recommendation. "
"But who will recommend themselves by their talents and
accomplishments. "
The king laughed aloud. " Balby, you forget that you are a poor
musician, chatting with your comrade. Truly your courtly bow
suits your dress as little as a lace veil would a beggar's attire ; you
must lay your fine manners aside for a short time, for, with them,
you would appear to the village beauties we may meet like a mon-
key, and they would laugh at instead of kissing you. "
"So we are to meet country beauties," said Colonel Balby, no
longer able to suppress his curiosity. " Tell me, sire, where are we
going, and what are we going to do? I shall die of curiosity. -
"Make an effort to die," said the king, gayly ; "you will find it
is not so easy to do as you imagine. But I will torture you no
longer. You ask what we are going to do. "Well, we are going to
amuse ourselves and seek adventures. You ask where we are going.
Ask that question of the sparrow that sits on the house-top ask
where it is going, and what is the aim of its journey. It will reply,
the next bush, the nearest tree, the topmost bough of a weeping
willow, which stands on a lonely grave ; the mast of a ship, sailing
on the wide sea ; or the branch of a noble beech, waving before
the window of a beautiful maiden. I am as incapable of telling
you the exact aim and end of our journey, friend, as that little
bird would be. We are as free as the birds of the air. Come!
THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS. 55
come ! lot us fly, for see, the little sparrow has flown let us fol-
low it."
And with a beaming smile illuminating his countenance, like
a ray of the morning sun, the king took the arm of his friend,
and followed by his servant and cabinet- hussar, Deesen, left the
pavilion.
As they stood at the little gate of the garden, the king said to
Deesen :
" You must be for us the angel with the flaming sword, and open
the gates of paradise, but not to cast us out. "
Deesen opened the gate, and our adventurers entered " the wide,
wide world. "
u Let us stand here a few moments, " said the king, as his glance
rested upon the green fields spread far and wide around him. " How
great and beautiful the world appears to-day ! Observe Nature's
grand silence, yet the air is full of a thousand voices ; and the white
clouds wandering dreamily in the blue heavens above, are they not
the misty veils with which the gods of Olympus conceal their
charms?"
"Ah ! sire," said Balby, with a loving glance at the king's hand-
some face "ah, sire, my eyes have no time to gaze at Nature's
charms, they are occupied with yourself. When I look upon you,
I feel that man is indeed made in the image of God."
" Were I a god, I should not be content to resemble this worn,
faded face. Come, now, let us be off ! Give me your instrument,
Deesen, I will carry it. Now I look like a travelling apprentice
seeking his fortune. The world is all before him where to choose
his place of rest, and Providence his guide. I envy him. He is a
free man !"
"Truly, these poor apprentices would not believe that a king
was envying them their fate, " said Balby, laughing.
"Still they are to be envied," said the king, "for they are free.
No, no, at present I envy no one ; the world and its sunshine belong
to me. We will go to Amsterdam, and enjoy the galleries and
museums. "
"I thank your majesty, " said Balby, laughing, "you have saved
my life. I should have died of curiosity if you had not spoken.
Now, I feel powerful and strong, and can keep pace with your ma-
jesty's wandering steps."
Silently they walked on until they reached a sign-post.
" We are now on the border let us bid farewell to the Prussian
colors, we see them for the last time. Sire, we will greet them with
reverence. "
He took off his hat and bowed lowly before the black and white
56 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
colors of Prussia, a greeting that Deesen imitated with the fervor of
a patriot.
The king did not unite in their enthusiasm ; he was writing with
his stick upon the ground.
" Come here, Balby, and read this, " he said, pointing to the lines
he had traced. " Can you read them?"
"Certainly," said Balby, "the words are, 'majesty' and 'sire. "'
" So they are, friend. I leave these two words on the borders of
Prussia ; perhaps on our return we may find and resume them. But
as long as we are on the soil of Holland there must be no majesty,
no sire. "
"What, then, must I call my king?"
" You must call him friend, voila tout. "
"And I?" asked Deesen, respectfully; "will your majesty be so
gracious as to tell me your name?"
" I am Mr. Zoller, travelling musician ; and should any one ask
you what I want in Amsterdam, tell them I intend giving a concert.
En avant, ines amis. There lies the first small village of Holland ;
in an hour we shall be there, and then we will take the stage and
go a little into the interior. En avant, en avant ! "
CHAPTER XII.
TRAVELUNa ADVENTURES.
THE stage stood before the tavern at Grave, and awaited its pas-
sengers. The departure of the stage was an important occurrence
to the inhabitants of the little town an occurrence that disturbed
the monotony of their lives for a few moments, and showed them at
least now and then a new face, that gave them something to think
of, and made them dream of the far-off city where the envied trav-
ellers were going.
To-day all Grave was in commotion and excitement. The stran-
gers had arrived at the post-house, and after partaking of an excel-
lent dinner, engaged three seats in the stage. The good people oi
Grave hoped to see three strange faces looking out of the stage
window ; many were the surmises of their destiny and their possi-
ble motives for travelling. They commenced these investigations
while the strangers were still with them.
A man had seen them enter the city, dusty and exhausted, and
he declared that the glance which the two men in brown coats had
cast at his young wife, who had come to the window at his call,
was very bold yes, even suspicious ; and it seemed very remarkable
TRAVELLING ADVENTURES. 57
to him that such plain, ordinary-looking wanderers should have a
servant for, doubtless, the man walking behind them, carrying the
veiy small carpet-bag, was their servant ; but, truly, he appeared to
be a proud person, and had the haughty bearing of a general or a
field-marshal ; he would not even return the friendly greetings of
the people he passed. His masters could not be distinguished or
rich, for both of them carried a case under their arms. What could
be in those long cases ; what secret was hidden there? Perhaps they
held pistols, and the good people of Grave would have to deal with
robbers or murderers. The appearance of the strangers was wild
and bold enough to allow of the worst suspicions.
The whole town, as before mentioned, was in commotion, and
all were anxious to see the three strangers, about whom there was
certainly something mysterious. They had the manners and bear-
ing of noblemen, but were dressed like common men.
A crowd of idlers had assembled before the post-house, whisper-
ing and staring at the windows of the guests' rooms. At last their
curiosity was about to be gratified at last the servant appeared with
the little carpet-bag, and placed it in the stage, and returned for the
two cases, whose contents they would so greedily have known. The
postilion blew his horn, the moment of departure had arrived.
A murmur was heard through the crowd the strangers appeared,
they approached the stage, and with such haughty and commanding
glances that the men nearest them stepped timidly back.
The postilion sounded his horn again ; the strangers were enter-
ing the stage. At the door stood the postmaster, and behind him
his wife, the commanding postmistress.
"Niclas, " she whispered, "I must and will know who these
strangers are. Go and demand their passports. "
The obedient Niclas stepped out and cried in a thundering
voice to the postilion, who was just about to start, to wait. Step-
ping to the stage, he opened the door.
" Your passports, gentlemen, " he said, roughly. " You forgot to
show me your passports. "
The curious observers breathed more freely, and nodded encour-
agingly to the daring postmaster.
" You rejoice, " murmured his wife, who was still standing in
the door, from whence she saw all that passed, and seemed to divine
the thoughts of her gaping friends "you rejoice, but you shall
know nothing. I shall not satisfy your curiosity. "
Mr. Niclas still stood at the door of the stage. His demand had
not been attended to ; he repeated it for the third time.
"Is it customary here to demand passports of travellers?" asked
a commanding voice from the stage.
5
58 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" We can demand them if we wish to do so. "
"And why do you wish it now?" said the same voice.
" I wish it simply because I wish it, " was the reply.
A stern face now appeared at the door, looking angrily at the
postmaster.
" Think what you say, sir, and be respectful. "
" Silence !" interrupted the one who had first spoken. " Do not
let us make an unnecessary disturbance, mon ami. "Why do you
wish to see our passports, sir?"
"Why?" asked Niclas, who was proud to play so distinguished a
part before his comrades " you wish to know why I desire to see
your pasports? Well, then, because you appear to me to be suspi-
cious characters. "
A gay laugh was heard from the stage. " Why do you suspect us ?"
"Because I never trust people travelling without baggage," was
the laconic reply.
" Bravo ! well answered, " cried the crowd, and even Madame
Niclas was surprised to see her husband show such daring courage.
" We need no baggage. We are travelling musicians, going to
Amsterdam. "
" Travelling musicians ! All the more reason for mistrusting
you ; no good was ever heard of wandering musicians. "
" You are becoming impertinent, sir, " and Balby, the tallest and
youngest of the two friends, sprang from the stage, while the ser-
vant swung himself from the box, where he was sitting with the
postilion, and with an enraged countenance placed himself beside
his master.
"If you dare to speak another insulting word, you are lost, " cried
Balby.
A hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice murmured in his
ear:
" Do not compromise us. "
The king now also left the stage, and tried to subdue the anger
of his companion.
"Pardon, sir, the violence of my friend," said the king, with an
ironical smile, as he bowed to the postmaster. " We are not accus-
tomed to being questioned and suspected in this manner, and I can
assure you that, although we are travelling musicians, as it pleased
you to say, we are honest people, and have played before kings and
queens. "
" If you are honest, show me your passports ; no honest man
travels without one !"
" It appears to me that no rascal should travel without one, " said
the king.
TRAVELLING ADVENTURES. 59
" I cannot tell who is a rascal ; you may be one for aught I know. "
Balby uttered an angry exclamation and stepped nearer to the
daring postmaster, while his servant shook his fist threateningly at
Niclas.
The king dispelled their anger with a single glance.
"Sir," he said' to Niclas, "God made my face, and it is not my
fault if it does not please you ; but concerning our passports, they
are lying well preserved in my carpet-bag. I should think that
would suffice you. "
" No, that does not suffice me, " screamed Niclas ; " show me your
passports if I am to believe that you are not vagabonds. "
"You dare to call us vagabonds?" cried the king, whose patience
now also appeared exhausted, and whose clear brow was slightly
clouded.
" The police consider every one criminal until he has proved he
is not so, " said Niclas, emphatically.
The king's anger was already subdued.
"In the eyes of the police, criminality is then the normal condi-
tion of mankind, " he said, smilingly.
" Sir, you have no right to question the police so pointedly, " said
Niclas, sternly. " You are here to be questioned, and not to question. "
The king laughingly arrested the uplifted arm of his companion.
" Mon Dieu, " he murmured, " do you not see that this is amusing
me highly ? Ask, sir, I am ready to answer. "
"Have you a pass?"
"Yes, sir."
" Then give it to me to vis6. "
" To do so, I should have to open my bag, and that would be very
inconvenient ; but, if the law absolutely demands it, I will do it. "
" The law demands it. "
The king motioned to his servant, and ordered him to carry the
bag into the house.
"Why this delay why this unnecessary loss of time?" asked
Niclas. " The postilion can wait no longer. If he arrives too late
at the next station, he will be fined. "
"I will not wait another minute," cried the postilion, determi-
nately ; "get in, or I shall start without you."
" Show me your passports, and then get in, " cried Niclas.
The strangers appeared confused and undecided. Niclas looked
triumphantly at his immense crowd of listeners, who were gazing
at him with amazement, awaiting in breathless stillness the unrav-
elling of this scene.
" Get in, or I shall start, " repeated the postilion.
"Give me your passports, or I will not let you go!" screamed
60 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Niclas ; and taking the two mysterious cases from the stage, ny
placed them before the strangers.
" Let us go into the house, " whispered the king to his friends ;
"we must make bonne mine d mauvais jeu ; " and he approached the
door of the house there stood the wife of the postmaster, with
sparkling eyes and a malicious grin.
" The postilion is going, and you will lose your money, " she
said ; " they never return money when once they have it. "
" Ah ! I thought that was only a habit of the church, " said the
king, laughing ; " nevertheless, the postmaster can keep what he
has. Will you have the kindness to show me a room, where I can
open my bag at leisure, and send some coffee and good wine to us?"
There was something so commanding in the king's voice, so im-
posing in his whole appearance, that even the all-conquering Madame
Niclas felt awed, and she silently stepped forward and showed him
her best room. The servant followed with the two cases and the
bag, and laid them upon the table, then placed himself at the door.
" Now, madame, leave us, " ordered the king, " and do as I told
. i < -
you."
Madame Niclas left, and the gentlemen were once more alone.
"Now, what shall we do?" said the king, smilingly. "I believe
there is danger of our wonderful trip falling through. "
" It is only necessary for your majesty to make yourself known to
the postmaster, " said Colonel Balby.
"And if he will not believe me, this/rtpon who declares that no
one could tell by my appearance whether I was a rascal or not, this
dull-eyed simpleton, who will not see the royal mark upon my brow,
which my courtiers see so plainly written there? No, no, my
friend, that is not the way. We have undertaken to travel as
ordinary men we must now see how common men get through the
world. It is necessary to show the police that we are at least honest
men. Happily, I believe I have the means to do so at hand. Open
our ominous bag, friend Balby ; I think you will discover my port-
folio, and in it a few blank passes, and my state seal. "
Colonel Balby did as the king ordered, and drew from the bag
the portfolio, with its precious contents.
The king bade Balby sit down and fill up the blanks at his dicta-
tion.
The pass was drawn up for the two brothers, Frederick and Henry
Zoller, accompanied by their servant, with the intention of travel-
ling through Holland.
The king placed his signature under this important document.
" Now, it is only necessary to put the state seal under it, and we
shall be free ; but how will we get a light?"
fll ' :
TRAVELLING ADVENTJRES. 61
" I will obtain one immediately, " said Balby, hastening to the
door.
The king held him back. " My brother, you are very innocent
and thoughtless. You forget entirely that we are suspected crimi-
nals. Should we demand a light, and immediately appear with our
passes, do you not believe that this dragon of a postmaster would
immediately think that we had written them ourselves, and put a
forged seal under them?"
"How, then, are we to get a light?" said Balby, confused.
The king thought a moment, then laughed gayly.
"I have found a way," he said ; "go down into the dining-room,
where I noticed an eternal lamp burning, not to do honor to the
Mother of God, but to smokers ; light your cigar and bring it here.
I will light the sealing-wax by it, and we will have the advantage
of drowning the smell of the wax with the smoke. "
Balby flew away, and soon returned with the burning cigar ; the
king lit the sealing-wax, and put the seal under the passport.
" This will proclaim us free from all crime. Now, brother Henry,
call the worthy postmaster. "
When Niclas received the passport from the king's hand his
countenance cleared, and he made the two gentlemen a graceful
bow, and begged them to excuse the severity that his duty made
necessary.
" We have now entirely convinced you that we are honest people, "
said the king, smiling, "and you will forgive us that we have so
little baggage. "
"Well, I understand," said Mr. Niclas, confusedly, "musicians
are seldom rich, but live from hand to mouth, and must thank God
if their clothes are good and clean. Yours are entirely new, and
you need no baggage. "
The king laughed merrily. " Can we now go?" he asked.
" Yes ; but how, sir? You doubtlessly heard that the postilion
left as soon as you entered the house. "
" Consequently we are without a conveyance ; we have paid for our
places for nothing, and must remain in this miserable place, " said
the king, impatiently.
Niclas reddened with anger. " Sir, what right have you to call
the town of Grave a miserable place? Believe me, it would be very
difficult for you to become a citizen of this miserable place, for you
must prove that you have means enough to live in a decent manner,
and it appears to me "
"That we do not possess them," said the king; "vraiment, you
are right, our means are very insufficient, and as the inhabitants of
Grave will not grant us the rights of citizens, it is better for us to
62 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
leave immediately. Have, therefore, the goodness to furnish us
with the means of doing so. "
" There are two ways, an expensive and a cheap one, " said Niclas,
proudly : " extra post, or the drag-boat. The first is for respectable
people, the second for those who have nothing, and are nothing. "
" Then the last is for us, " said the king, laughing. " Is it not so,
brother Henry? it is best for us to go in the drag-boat."
"That would be best, brother Frederick."
** Have the kindness to call our servant to take the bag, and you,
Mr. Niclas, please give us a guide to show us to the canal. "
The king took his box and approached the door.
" And my coffee, and the wine, " asked Mrs. Niclas, just entering
with the drinks.
" We have no time to make use of them, madame, " said the king,
as he passed her, to leave the room.
But Madame Niclas held him back.
" No time to make use of them, " she cried ; " but I had to take
time to make the coffee, and bring the wine from the cellar. "
" Mais, mon Dieu, madame, " said the impatient king.
"Mais, mon Dieu, monsieur, vous croyez queje travaillerai pour
le roi de Prusse, c'est-d-dire sans paiement . "
The king broke out into a hearty laugh, and Balby had to join
him, but much against his will.
"Brother Henry," said the king, laughing, "that is a curious
way of speaking ; ' travailler pour le roi de Prusse, ' means here to
work for nothing. I beg you to convince this good woman that she
has not worked for the King of Prussia, and pay her well. Madame,
I have the honor to bid you farewell, and be assured it will always
cheer me to think of you, and to recall your charming speech. "
The king laughingly took his friend's arm, and nodded kindly
to Madame Niclas as he went down the steps.
" I tell you what, " said Madame Niclas, as she stood at the door
with her husband, watching the departing strangers, who, in com-
pany with the guide and their servant, were walking down the
street that led to the canal " I tell you I do not trust those strangers,
the little one in particular ; he had a very suspicious look. "
" But his passport was all right. "
'But, nevertheless, all is not right with them. These strangers
are disguised princes or robbers, I am fully convinced. "
THE DRAG-BOAT. 63
CHAPTER XIII.
THE DRAG- BO AT.
WHAT a crowd, what noise, what laughing and chatting ! How
bright and happy these people are who have nothing and are noth-
ing ! How gayly they laugh and talk together with what stoical
equanimity they regard the slow motion of the boat ! they accept it
as an unalterable necessity. How kindly they assist each other ;
with what natural politeness the men leave the best seats for the
women !
The boat is very much crowded. There are a great number of
those amiable people who are nothing, and have nothing, moving
from place to place cheerily.
The men on the shore who, with the aid of ropes, are pulling the
boat, those two-legged horses, groan from exertion. The bagpipe
player is making his gayest music, but in vain he cannot allure
the young people to dance ; there is no place for dancing, the large
deck of the boat is covered with human beings. Old men, and even
women, are obliged to stand ; the two long benches running down
both sides of the boat are filled.
The king enjoyed the scene immensely. The free life about him,
the entire indifference to his own person, charmed and delighted
him. He leaned against the cabin, by which he was sitting, and
regarded the crowd before him. Suddenly he was touched on the
shoulder, and not in the gentlest manner. Looking up, he met the
discontented face of a peasant, who was speaking violently, but in
Dutch, and the king did not understand him ; he therefore slightly
shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet.
The angry peasant continued to gesticulate, and pointed excit-
edly at the king, and then at a pale young woman who was standing
before him, and held two children in her arms.
The king still shrugged his shoulders silently, but when the
peasant grasped him for the second time he waved him off, and his
eye was so stem that the terrified and astonished peasant stepped
back involuntarily.
At this moment a displeased murmur was heard among the
crowd, and a number arranged themselves by the side of the peas-
ant, who approached the king with a determined countenance.
The king remained sitting, and looked surprised at the threat-
ening countenances of the people, whose angry words he tried in
vain to comprehend.
The still increasing crowd was suddenly separated by two strong
64 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
arms, and Balby, who had been sitting at the other end of the boat,
now approached the king, accompanied by a friend, and placed
himself at the king's side.
" Tell me what these men want, mon ami, " said Frederick, has-
tily ; " I do not understand Dutch. "
" I understand it, sir, " said the friend who accompanied Balby ;
"these people are reproaching you. "
" Reproaching me ! And why?"
The stranger turned to the peasant who had first spoken, and who
now began to make himself heard again in loud and angry tones.
" Monsieur, " said the stranger, " these good people are angry with
you, and, it appears to me, not entirely without cause. There rs a
language that is understood without words, its vocabulary is in the
heart. Here stands a poor, sick woman, with her twins in her
arms. You, monsieur, are the only man seated. These good people
think it would be but proper for you to resign your seat. "
" This is unheard-of insolence, " exclaimed Balby, placing him-
self determinedly before the king ; " let any one dare advance a step
farther, and I"
"Quiet, cher frere, the people are right, and I am ashamed of
myself that I did not understand them at once. "
He rose and passed through the crowd with a calm, kindly face,
and, not appearing to notice them, approached the young woman,
who was kneeling, exhausted, on the floor. With a kind, sympa-
thetic smile, he raised her and led her to his seat. There was some-
thing so noble and winning in his manner, that those who were so
shortly before indignant, were unconsciously touched. A murmur
of approval was heard ; the rough faces beamed with friendly smiles.
The king did not observe this, he was still occupied with the
poor woman, and, while appearing to play with the children, gave
each of them a gold piece. But their little hands were not accus-
tomed to carry such treasures, and could not hold them securely.
The two gold pieces rolled to the ground, and the ringing noise
announced the rich gift of Frederick. Loud cries of delight were
heard, and the men waved their hats in the air. The king reddened,
and looked down in confusion.
The peasant, who had first been so violent toward the king, and
at whose feet the money had fallen, picked it up and gave it to the
children ; then, with a loud laugh, he offered his big, rough hand
to the king, and said something in a kindly tone.
"The good man is thanking you, sir, "said the stranger. "He
thinks you a clever, good-hearted fellow, and begs you to excuse his
uncalled-for violence."
The king answered with a silent bow. He who was accustomed
THE DRAG-BOAT. 65
to receive the world's approval as his just tribute, was confused and
ashamed at the applause of these poor people.
The king was right in saying he left his royalty on Prussian soil ;
he really was embarrassed at this publicity, and was glad when
Deesen announced that lunch was prepared for him. He gave Balby
a nod to follow, and withdrew into the cabin.
" Truly, if every-day life had so many adventures, I do not un-
derstand how any one can complain of ennui. Through what varied
scenes I have passed to-day !"
" But our adventures arise from the peculiarity of our situation, "
said Balby. "All these little contretemps are annoying and disa-
greeable ; but seem only amusing to a king in disguise. "
"But a disguised king learns many things," said Frederick,
smiling ; " from to-day, I shall be no longer surprised to hear the
police called a hateful institution. Vraiment, its authority and
power is vexatious, but necessary. Never speak again of my god-like
countenance, or the seal of greatness which the Creator has put upon
the brow of princes to distinguish them from the rest of mankind.
Moris. Niclas saw nothing great stamped upon my brow ; to him I
had the face of a criminal my passport only made an honest man
of me. Come, friends, let us refresh ourselves. "
While eating, the king chatted pleasantly with Balby of the
charming adventures of the day.
" Truly, " he said, laughing, as the details of the scene on deck
were discussed, "without the interference of that learned Dutch-
man, the King of Prussia would have been in dangerous and close
contact with the respectable peasant. Ah, I did not even thank my
protecting angel. Did you speak to him, brother Henry ? Where
is he from, and what is his name?"
" I do not know, sir ; but from his speech and manner he appeared
to me to be an amiable and cultivated gentleman. "
" Go and invite him to take a piece of pie with us. Tell him Mr.
Zol'er wishes to thank him for his assistance, and begs the honor of
his acquaintance. You see, my friend, I am learning how to be
polite, to flatter, and conciliate, as becomes a poor travelling musi-
cian. I beg you, choose your words well. Be civil, or he might
refuse to come, and I thirst for company. "
Balby returned in a few moments, with the stranger.
"Here, my friend," said Balby, "I bring you our deliverer in
time of need. He will gladly take his share of the pie. "
"And he richly deserves it," said the king, as he greeted the
stranger politely. " Truly, monsieur, I am very much indebted to
you, and this piece of pie that I have the honor to offer you is but
a poor reward for your services. I believe I never saw larger fists
6'6 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
than that terrible peasant's ; a closer acquaintance with them would
have been very disagreeable. I thank you for preventing it. "
" Travellers make a variety of acquaintances, " said the stranger,
laughing, and seating himself on the bench by the king's side, with
a familiarity that terrified Balby. "I count you, sir, among the
agreeable ones, and I thank you for this privilege. "
" I hope you will make the acquaintance of this pie, and find it
agreeable, " said the king. " Eat, monsieur, and let us chat in the
mean while Henry, why are you standing there so grave and re-
spectful, not daring to be seated? I do not believe this gentleman
to be a prince travelling incognito. "
"No, sir, take your place," exclaimed the stranger, laughing,
"you will not offend etiquette. I give you my word that I am no
concealed prince, and no worshipper of princes. I am proud to
declare this. "
" Ah ! you are proud not to be a prince?"
" Certainly, sir. "
"It appears to me," said Balby, looking at the king, "that a
prince has a great and enviable position. "
" But a position, unfortunately, that but few princes know how to
fill worthily," said the king, smiling. "Every man who is suffi-
cient for himself is to be envied. "
" You speak my thoughts exactly, sir, " said the stranger, who
had commenced eating his piece of pie with great zeal. " Only the
free are happy.
"Are you happy?" asked the king.
" Yes, sir ; at least for the moment I am. "
"What countryman are you?"
" I am a Swiss, sir. "
" A worthy and respectable people. From what part of Switzer-
land do you come?"
" From the little town of Morges. "
" Not far, then, from Lausanne, and the lovely lake of Geneva ;
not far from Ferney, where the great Voltaire resides, and from
whence he darts his scorching, lightning- flashes to-day upon those
whom he blessed yesterday. Are you satisfied with your govern-
ment? Are not your patrician families a little too proud? Are not
even the citizens of Berne arrogant and imperious?"
" We have to complain of them, sir, but very rarely. "
"Are you now residing in Holland?"
" No, I am travelling, " answered the stranger, shortly. He had
held for a long time a piece of pie on his fork, trying in vain to put
it in his mouth.
The king had not observed this ; he had forgotten that kings and
THE DRAG-BOAT. 67
princes only have the right to cany on a conversation wholly with
questions, and that it did not become Mr. Zoller to be so inquis-
itive.
"What brought you here?" he asked, hastily.
"To complete my studies, sir," and, with a clouded brow, the
stranger laid his fork and pie upon his plate.
But the king's questions flowed on in a continued stream.
" Do you propose to remain here ?"
"I believe not, or rather I do not yet know," answered the
stranger, with a sarcastic smile, that brought Balby to despera-
tion.
" Are not the various forms of government of Switzerland some-
what confusing in a political point of view?"
" No, for all know that the cantons are free, as they should be. "
"Does that not lead to skepticism and indifference? 1 '
The stranger's patience was exhausted ; without answering the
king, he pushed back his plate and arose from the table.
" Sir, allow me to say that, in consideration of a piece of pie,
which you will not even give me time to eat, you ask too many
questions. "
" You are right, and I beg your pardon, " said the king, as he
smilingly nodded at Balby to remain quiet. " We travel to improve
ourselves, but you have just cause of complaint. I will give you
time to eat your piece of pie. Eat, therefore, monsieur, and when
you have finished, if it is agreeable, we will chat awhile longer. "
When the stranger arose to depart, after an animated and inter-
esting conversation, the king offered him his hand.
" Give me your address, " he said, " that is, I beg of you to do so.
You say you have not yet chosen a profession ; perhaps I may have
the opportunity of being useful to you. "
The Swiss gave him his card, with many thanks, and returned
to the deck.
The king gazed thoughtfully after him.
" That man pleases me, and when I am no longer a poor musician,
I shall call him to my side. Well, brother Henry, what do you
think of this man, who, as I see, is named Mr. Le Catt?"
"1 find him rather curt," said Balby, "and he appears to be a
great republican. "
" You mean because he hates princes, and was somewhat rude to
me. Concerning the first, you must excuse it in a republican, and
I confess that were I in his place I would probably do the same
as to the last, he was right to give Mr. Zoller a lesson in manners.
Poor Zoller is not yet acquainted with the customs of the com-
mon world, and makes all manner of mistakes against bon ton I
68 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
believe to-day is not the first time he has been reproved for want of
manners. "
"Mr. Zoller is every inch a king," said Balby, laughing.
[NOTE. The king's conversation with Mr. Le Catt is historical (see Thiebault, vol.
i., p. 218). The king did not forget his travelling adventure, but on his return to
Prussia, called Le Catt to court and gave him the position of lecturer, and for twenty
years he enjoyed the favor and confidence of the king.]
CHAPTER XIV
IN AMSTERDAM.
WEARIED, indeed utterly exhausted, the king and Balby returned
to the hotel of the Black Raven, at that time the most celebrated in
Amsterdam. They had been wandering about the entire day, ex-
amining with never-ceasing interest and delight the treasures of art
which the rich patricians of Amsterdam had collected in their
princely homes and the public museums. No one supposed that this
small man in the brown coat, with dusty shoes and coarse, unadorned
hat, could be a king a king whose fame resounded throughout the
whole of Europe. Frederick had enjoyed the great happiness of
pursuing his journey and his studies unnoticed and unknown. He
had many amusing and romantic adventures ; and the joy of being
an independent man, of which he had heretofore only dreamed, he
was now realizing fully.
The king was compelled now to confess that his freedom and
manhood were completely overcome. Hunger had conquered him
hunger ! the earthly enemy of all great ideas and exalted feelings.
The king was hungry I He was obliged to yield to that physical
power which even the rulers of this world must obey, and Balby and
himself had returned to the hotel to eat and refresh themselves.
"Now, friend, see that you order something to rejoice and
strengthen our humanity, " said Frederick, stretching himself com-
fortably upon the divan. " It is a real pleasure to me to be hungry
and partake of a good meal a pleasure which the King of Prussia
will often envy the Messieurs Zoller. To be hungry and to eat i*
one of life's rare enjoyments generally denied to kings, and yet,"
whispered he, thoughtfully, "our whole life is nothing but a never-
ceasing hungering and thirsting after happiness, content, and rest.
The world alas ! gives no repose, no satisfying portion. Brother
Henry, let us eat and be joyful ; let us even meditate on a good meal
as an ardent maiden consecrates her thoughts to a love-poem which
she will write in her album in honor of her beloved. Truly there
IN AMSTERDAM. 69
are fools who in the sublimity of their folly wish to appear indiffer-
ent to such earthly pleasures, declaring that they are necessary evils,
most uncomfortable bodily craving, and nothing more. They are
fools who do not understand that eating and drinking is an art, a
science, the soul of the soul, the compass of thought and feeling.
Dear Balby, order us a costly meal. I wish to be gay and free,
light-minded and merry-hearted to-day. In order to promote this
we must, before all other things, take care of these earthly bodies
and not oppress them with common food. "
"We will give them, I hope, the sublimest nourishment which
the soil of Holland produces, " said Balby, laughing. " You are not
aware, M. Frederick Zoller, that we are now in a hotel whose hostess
is worshipped, almost glorified, by the good Hollanders. "
" And is it this sublime piece of flesh which you propose to place
before me?" said the king, with assumed horror. "Will you satisfy
the soul of my soul with this Holland beauty? I do not share the
enthusiasm of the Hollanders. I shall not worship this woman. I
shall find her coarse, old, and ugly. "
" But listen, Zoller. These good Dutchmen worship her not be-
cause of her perishable beauty, but because of a famous pie which
she alone in Amsterdam knows how to make. "
" Ah, that is better. I begin now to appreciate the Dutchmen,
and if the pie is good, I will worship at the same shrine. Did you
not remark, brother Henry, that while you stood carried away by
your enthusiasm before Rembrandt's picture of the 'Night Watch'
a picture which it grieves me to say I cannot obtain, " sighed the
king " these proud Hollanders call it one of their national treasures,
and will not sell it well, did you not see that I was conversing
zealously with three or four of those thick, rubicund, comfortable-
looking mynheers? No doubt you thought we were rapturously dis-
cussing the glorious paintings before which we stood, and for this
the good Hollanders were rolling their eyes in ecstasy. No, sir ; no,
sir. We spoke of a pie ! They recognized me as a stranger, asked
me from whence I came, where we lodged, etc. , etc. And when I
mentioned the Black Raven, they went off into ecstatic raptures
over the venison pasty of Madame von Blaken. They then went
on to relate that Madame Blaken was renowned throughout all Hol-
land because of this venison pasty of which she alone had the recipe,
and which she prepared always alone and with closed doors. Her
portrait is to be seen in all the shop windows, and all the stadthol-
ders dine once a month in the Black Raven to enjoy this pie.
Neither through prayers nor entreaties, commands, or threatenings,
has Madame Blaken been induced to give up her recipe or even to
go to the castle and prepare the pasty. She declares that this is
70 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the richest possession of the Black Raven, and all who would be so
happy as to enjoy it must partake of it at her table. Balby ! Balby !
hasten my good fellow, and command the venison pastry, " said
Frederick, eagerly. "Ah ! what bliss to lodge in the Black Raven !
Waiter, I say ! fly to this exalted woman !"
Balby rushed out to seek the hostess and have himself an
nounced.
Madame Blaken received him in her boudoir, to which she had
withdrawn to rest a little after the labors of the day. These labors
were ever a victory and added to her fame. There was no better
table prepared in Holland than that of the Black Raven. She was
in full toilet, having just left the dinner table where she had presided
at the table d'hote as lady of the house, and received with dignity
the praise of her guests. These encomiums still resounded in her
ears, and she reclined upon the divan and listened to their pleasing
echo. The door opened and the head waiter announced Mr. Zoller.
The countenance of Madame Blaken was dark, and she was upon the
point of declining to receive him, but it was too late ; the daring
Zoller had had the boldness to enter just behind the waiter, and he
was now making his most reverential bow to the lady. Madame
Blaken returned this greeting with a slight nod of the head, and
she regarded the stranger in his cheap and simple toilet with a
rather contemptuous smile. She thought to herself that this ordinary
man had surely made a mistake in entering her hotel. Neither his
rank, fortune, nor celebrity could justify his lodging at the Black
Raven. She was resolved to reprove her head waiter for allowing
such plain and poor people to enter the best hotel in Amsterdam.
" Sir, " said she, in a cold and cutting tone, " you come without
doubt to excuse your brother and yourself for not having appeared
to-day at my table d'hote. You certainly know that politeness re-
quires that you should dine in the hotel where you lodge. Do not
distress yourself, however, sir. I do not feel offended now that I
have seen you. I understand fully why you did not dine with me,
but sought your modest meal elsewhere. The table d'hote in the
Black Raven is the most expensive in Amsterdam, and only wealthy
people put their feet under my table and enjoy my dishes. "
While she thus spoke, net glance wandered searchingly over
Balby, who did not seem to remark it, or to comprehend her signifi-
cant words.
" Madame, " said he, " allow me to remark that we have not dined.
My brother, whose will is always mine, prefers taking his dinner in
his own apartment, where he has more quiet comfort and can better
enjoy your rare viands. He never dines at a table d'hote. In every
direction he has heard of your wonderful pie, and I corns in his
IN AMSTERDAM. 71
name to ask that you will be so good as to prepare one for his dinner
to-day. "
Madame Blaken laughed aloud. " Truly said ; that is not a bad
idea of your brother's. My pasty is celebrated throughout all Hol-
land, and I have generally one ready in case a rich or renowned
guest should desire it. But this pie is not for every man !"
" My brother wants it for himself himself alone, " said Balby,
decisively. Even the proud hostess felt his tone imposing.
"Sir," said she, after a short pause, "forgive me if I speak
plainly to you. You wish to eat one of my renowned pies, and to
have it served in a private room, as the General Stadtholder and
other high potentates are accustomed to do. Well, I have this
morning a pasty made with truffles and Chinese birds' -nests, but
you cannot have it ! To be frank, it is enormously dear, and I think
neither your brother nor yourself could pay for it !"
And now it was Balby's turn to laugh aloud, and he did so with
the free, unembarrassed gayety of a man who is sure of his position,
and is neither confused nor offended.
Madame Blaken was somewhat provoked by this unrestrained
merriment. "You laugh, sir, but I have good reason for supposing
you to be poor and unknown. You came covered with dust and on
foot to my hotel, accompanied by one servant carrying a small
carpet-bag. You have neither equipage, retinue, nor baggage.
You receive no visits ; and, as it appears, make none. You are
always dressed in your simple, modest, rather forlorn-looking brown
coats. You have never taken a dinner here, but pass the day abroad,
and when you return in the evening you ask for a cup of tea and a
few slices of bread and butter. Rich people do not travel in this
style, and I therefore have the right to ask if you can afford to pay
for my pasty? I do not know who or what you are, nor your
brother's position In the world."
" Oh, " cried Balby, who was highly amused by the candor of the
hostess, " my brother has a most distinguished position, I assure you
his fame resounds throughout Germany. "
"Bah!" said Madame Blaken, shrugging her shoulders; "the
name is entirely unknown to us. Pray, what is your brother, and
for what is he celebrated?"
"For his flute," answered Balby, with solemn gravity.
Madame Blaken rose and glanced scornfully at Balby. " Are you
making sport of me, sir?" said she, threateningly.
" Not in the least, madame ; I am telling you an important truth.
My brother is a renowned virtuoso. "
" A virtuoso ? " repeated the hostess ; " I do not understand the
word. Pray, what is a virtuoso ? "
72 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" A virtuoso, madame, is a musician who makes such music as
no other man can make. He gives concerts, and sells the tickets
for an enormous price, and the world rushes to hear his music. I
assure you, madame, my brother can play so enchantingly that those
who hear his flute are forced to dance in spite of themselves. He
receives large sums of gold, and if he gives a concert here you will
see that all your distinguished people will flock to hear him. You
can set your pasty before him without fear he is able to pay richly
for it."
Madame Blaken rose without a word and advanced toward the
door. " Come, sir, come. I am going to your brother. " Without
waiting for an answer, she stepped through the corridor and tapped
lightly at the stranger's door. She was on the point of opening it,
but Balby caught her hand hastily.
"Madame," said he, "allow me to enter and inquire if you can
be received." He wished to draw her back from the door, but the
hostess of the Black Raven was not the woman to be withdrawn.
"You wish to ask if I can enter?" repeated she. "I may well
claim that privilege in my own house. "
With a determined hand she knocked once more upon the door,
opened it immediately and entered, followed by Balby, who by
signs endeavored to explain and beg pardon for the intrusion.
Frederick did not regard him, his blue eyes were fixed upon the
woman who, with laughing good-humor, stepped up to him and
held out both of her large, course hands in greeting.
"Sir, I come to convince myself if what your brother said was
true."
" Well, madame, what has my brother said ?"
"He declares that you can whistle splendidly, and all the world
is forced to dance after your music. "
"I said play the flute, madame! I said play the flute!" cried
Balby, horrified.
"Well, flute or whistle," said Madame Blaken, proudly, "it's the
same thing. Be so good, sir, as to whistle me something ; I will
then decide as to the pasty. "
The king looked at Balby curiously.
"Will you have the goodness, brother, to explain madame's
meaning, and what she requires of me?"
" Allow me to explain myself, " said the hostess. " This gentle-
man came and ordered a rich pie for you ; this pasty has given
celebrity to my house. It is true I have one prepared, but I would
not send it to you. Would you know why ? This is an enormously
expensive dish, and I have no reason to believe that you are in a
condition to pay for it. I said this to your brother, and I might
IN AMSTERDAM. 73
with truth have told him that I regretted to see him in my hotel
not that you are in yourselves objectionable, on the contrary, you
appear to me to be harmless and amiable men, but because of your
purses. I fear that you do not know the charges of first- class hotels,
and will be amazed at your bill. Your brother, however, assures
me that you can afford to pay for all you order ; that you make a
great deal of money ; that you are a virtuoso, give concerts, and sell
tickets at the highest price. Now, I will convince myself if you
are a great musician and can support yourself. Whistle me some-
thing, and I will decide as to the pie. "
The king listened to all this with suppressed merriment, and gave
Balby a significant look.
" Bring my flute, brother ; I will convince madame that I am
indeed a virtuoso. "
"Let us hear," said Madame Blaken, seating herself upon the
sofa from which the king had just arisen.
Frederick made, with indescribable solemnity, a profound bow
to the hostess. He placed the flute to his lips and began to play,
but not in his accustomed masterly style not in those mild, floating
melodies, those solemn sacred, and exalted strains which it was his
custom to draw from his beloved flute. He played a gay and brill-
iant solo, full of double trills and rhapsodies ; it was an astounding
medley, which seemed to make a triumphal march over the instru-
ment, overcoming all difficulties. But those soft tones which
touched the soul and roused to noble thoughts were wanting ; in
truth, the melody failed, the music was wanting.
Madame Blaken listened with ever- increasing rapture to this
wondrous exercise ; these trills, springing from octave to octave,
drew forth her loudest applause ; she trembled with ecstasy, and as
the king closed with a brilliant cadence, she clapped her hands and
shouted enthusiastically. She stood up respectfully before the ar-
tiste in the simple brown coat, and bowing low, said earnestly :
" Your brother was right, you can surely earn much money by
your whistle. You whistle as clearly as my mocking-bird. You
shall have the pie I go to order it at once, " and she hastened from
the room.
"Well," said the king, laughing, "this was a charming scene,
and I thank you for it, brother Henry. It is a proud and happy
feeling to know that you can stand upon your feet, or walk alone ;
in other words, that you can earn a support. Now, if the sun of
Prussia sets, I shall not hunger, for I can earn my bread ; Madame
Blaken assures me of it. But, Henry, did I not play eminently?"
"That was the most glittering, dazzling piece for a concert which
I ever heard," said Balby, "and Mr. Zoller may well be proud of it>
I
74 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
but I counsel him not to play it before the King of Prussia ; he
would, in his jealousy, declare it was not music, nothing but sound,
and signifying nothing. "
"Bravo, my friend, "said Frederick, taking his friend's hand;
"yes, he would say that. Mr. Zoller played like a true virtuoso,
that is to say, without intellect and without soul ; he did not make
music, only artistic tones. But here comes the pasty, and I shall
relish it wondrous well. It is the first meat I have ever earned with
my flute. Let us eat, brother Henry. "
CHAPTER XV.
THE KING WITHOUT SHOES.
THE pie was really worthy of its reputation, and the king en-
joyed it highly. He was gay and talkative, and amused himself in
recalling the varied adventures of the past five days.
" They will soon be tempi passati, these giorni felice, " he said,
sighing. " To-day is the last day of our freedom and happiness ; to-
morrow we must take up our yoke, and exchange our simple brown
coats for dashing uniforms. "
" I know one, at least, who is rejoicing, " said Balby, laughing,
"the unhappy Deesen, who has just sworn most solemnly that he
would throw himself in the river if he had to play much longer the
part of a servant without livery a servant of two unknown musi-
cians ; and he told me, with tears in his eyes, that not a respectable
man in the house would speak to him ; that the pretty maids would
not even listen to his soft sighs and tender words. "
" Dress makes the man, " said the king, laughing ; " if Deesen
wore his cabinet-hussar livery these proud beauties who now despise,
would smile insidiously. How strangely the world is constituted !
But let us enjoy our freedom while we may. We still have some
collections of paintings to examine here are some splendid pictures
of Rembrandt and Rubens to be sold. Then, last of all, I have an
important piece of business to transact with the great banker, Witte,
on whom I have a draft. You know that Madame Blaken is expen-
sive, and the picture-dealers will not trust our honest faces ; we
must show them hard cash. "
"Does your Shall I not go to the bankers and draw the
money?" said Balby.
" Oh no, I find it pleasant to serve myself, to be my own master
and servant at the same time. Allow me this rare pleasure for a
few hours longer, Balby. "
THE KING WITHOUT SHOES. 75
The king took his friend's arm, and recommenced his search for
paintings and treasures to adorn his gallery at Sans-Souci. Every-
where he was received kindly and respectfully, for all recognized
them as purchasers, and not idle sight-seers. The dealers appreci-
ated the difference between idle enthusiasm and well-filled purses.
The king understood this well, and on leaving the house of the
last rich merchant he breathed more freely, and said :
" I am glad that is over. The rudeness of the postmaster at Grave
pleased me better than the civilities of these people. Come, Balby,
we have bought pictures enough ; now we will only admire them,
enjoy without appropriating them. The rich banker, Abramson, is
said to have a beautiful collection ; we will examine them, and then
have our draft cashed. "
The banker's splendid house was soon found, and the brothers
entered the house boldly, and demanded of the richly-dressed,
liveried servant to be conducted to the gallery.
" This is not the regular day, " said the servant, with a contemptu-
ous shrug of the shoulders, as he measured the two strangers.
" Not the day ! What day ?" asked the king, sharply.
" Not the day of general exhibition. You must wait until next
Tuesday."
"Impossible, we leave to-morrow. Go to your master and tell
him two strangers wish to see his gallery, and beg it may be opened
for them. "
There was something so haughty and irresistible in the stranger's
manner, that the servant not daring to refuse, and still astonished
at his own compliance, went to inform his master of the request.
He returned in a few moments, and announced that his master
would come himself to receive them.
The door opened immediately, and Mr. Abramson stepped into
the hall ; his face, bright and friendly, darkened when his black
eyes fell upon the two strangers standing in the hall.
" You desired to speak to me, " he said, in the arrogant tone that
the rich Jews are accustomed to use when speaking to unknown and
poor people. "What is your wish, sirs?"
The king's brow darkened, and he looked angrily at the super-
cilious man of fortune, who was standing opposite him, with his
head proudly thrown back, and his hands in his pockets. But
Frederick's countenance soon cleared, and he said, with perfect
composure :
" We wish you to show us your picture-gallery, sir. "
The tone in which he spoke was less pleading than commanding,
and roused the anger of the easily-enraged parvenu.
"Sir, I have a picture-gallery, arranged for my own pleasure
76 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
and paid for with my own money. I am very willing to show it to
all who have not the money to purchase pictures for themselves ; and
to satisfy the curiosity of strangers, I have set aside a day in each
week on which to exhibit my gallery. "
" You mean, then, sir, that you will not allow us to enter your
museum?" said the king, smilingly, and laying his hand at the
same time softly on Balby's arm, to prevent him from speaking.
" I mean that my museum is closed, and "
A carriage rolled thunderingly to the door ; the outer doors of the
hall were hastily opened, a liveried servant entered, and stepping
immediately to Mr. Abramson, he said :
"Lord Middlestone, of London, asks the honor of seeing your
gallery. "
The countenance of the Jewish banker beamed with delight.
"Will his excellency have the graciousness to enter? I consider
it an honor to show him my poor treasures. My gallery is closed to-
day, but for Lord Middlestone, I will open it gladly. "
His contemptuous glance met the two poor musicians, who had
stepped aside, and were silent witnesses of this scene.
The outer doors of the court were opened noisily, and a small,
shrivelled human form, assisted by two servants, staggered into the
hall. It was an old man, wrapped in furs ; this was his excellency
Lord Middlestone. Mr. Abramson met him with a profound bow,
and sprang forward to the door that led to the gallery.
Every eye was fixed upon this sad picture of earthly pomp and
greatness ; all felt the honor to the house of Mr. Abramson. Lord
Middlestone, the ambassador of the King of England, desired to see
his collection. This was an acknowledgment of merit that de-
lighted the heart of the banker, and added a new splendor to his
house.
While the door was being opened to admit his lordship, Balby
and the king left the house unnoticed.
The king was angry, and walked silently along for a time ; sud-
denly remaining standing, he gazed steadily at Balby, and broke
out into a loud, merry laugh, that startled the passers-by, and made
them look wonderingly after him.
"Balby, my friend," he said, still laughing, "I will tell you
something amusing. Never in my life did I feel so humble and
ashamed as when his excellency entered the gallery so triumphantly,
and we slipped away so quietly from the house. Truly, I was fool
enough to be angry at first, but I now feel that the scene was irre-
sistibly comic. Oh ! oh, Balby ! do laugh with me. Think of us,
who imagine ourselves to be such splendidly handsome men, being
shown the door, and that horrid shrunken, diseased old man being
THE KING WITHOUT SHOES. 7?
receired with such consideration ! He smelt like a salve-box, we
are odorous with ambrosia ; but all in vain, Abramson preferred the
salve-box. "
" Abramson 's olfactories are not those of a courtier, " said Balby,
" or he would have fainted at the odor of royalty. But truly, this
Mr. Abramson is a disgraceful person, and I beg your majesty to
avenge Mr. Zoller. "
" I shall do so. He deserves punishment ; he has insulted me as
a man ; the king will punish him. " *
" And now we will have our check cashed by Mr. Witte. I bet
he will not dismiss us so curtly, for my draft is for ten thousand
crowns, and he will be respectful if not to us, to our money."
The worthy and prosperous Madame Witte had just finished dust-
ing and cleaning her state apartment, and was giving it a last artis-
tic survey. She smiled contentedly, and acknowledged that there
was nothing more to be done. The mirrors and windows were of
transparent brightness no dust was seen on the silk furniture or
the costly ornaments it was perfect. With a sad sigh Madame
Witte left the room and locked the door with almost a feeling of
regret. She must deny herself for the next few days her favorite
occupation there was nothing more to dust or clean in the apart-
ment and only in this room was her field of operation only here
did her husband allow her to play the servant. With this exception
he required of her to be the lady of the house the noble wife of the
rich banker and this was a role that pleased the good woman but
little. She locked the door with a sigh and drew on her shoes, which
she was accustomed always to leave in the hall before entering her
state apartment, then stepped carefully on the border of the carpet that
covered the hall to another door. At this moment violent ringing
was heard at the front door. Madame Witte moved quickly for-
ward to follow the bent of her womanly curiosity and see who de-
sired admittance at this unusual hour. Two strangers had already
entered the hall and desired to see the banker.
" Mr. Witte is not at home, and if your business is not too press-
ing, call again early to-morrow morning."
" But my business is pressing, " said Frederick Zoller, hastily ; " I
must speak with Mr. Witte to-day. "
"Can they wish to borrow money from him?" thought Madame
Witte, who saw the two strangers through the half -opened door.
" To borrow, or to ask credit, I am sure that is their business. "
* The king kept his word. The Jew heard afterward that it was the king whom
he had treated so disrespectfully, and he could never obtain his forgiveness. He was
not allowed to negotiate with the Prussian government or banks, and was thus bit-
terly punished for his misconduct.
78 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"May I ask the nature of your business?" said the servant. "In
order to bring Mr. Witte from the Casino I must know what you
wish of him. "
" I desire to have a draft of ten thousand crowns cashed, " said
Frederick Zoller, sharply.
The door was opened hastily, and Madame Witte stepped forward
to greet the stranger and his companion. "Have the kindness,
gentlemen, to step in and await my husband ; he will be here in a
quarter of an hour. Go, Andres, for Mr. Witte. " Andres ran off,
and Madame Witte accompanied the strangers through the hall.
Arrived at the door of the state apartment, she quickly drew off
her shoes, and then remained standing, looking expectantly at tht>
strangers.
" Well, madame, " said the king, " shall we await Mr. Witte be-
fore this door, or will you show us into the next room?"
" Certainly I will ; but I am waiting on you. "
" On us ? And what do you expect of us ?"
" What I have done, sirs to take your shoes off. "
The king laughed aloud. "Can no one, then, enter that room
with shoes on ?"
" Never, sir. It was a custom of my great-grandfather. He had
this house built, and never since then has any one entered it with
shoes. Please, therefore, take them off."
Balby hastened to comply with her peremptory command.
" Madame, it will suffice you for me to follow this custom of your
ancestors you will spare my brother this ceremony. "
"And why?" asked Madame Witte, astonished. "His shoes are
no cleaner or finer than yours, or those of other men. Have the
kindness to take off your shoes also. "
" You are right, madame, "said the king, seriously. "We must
leave off the old man altogether ; therefore, you ask but little in
requiring us to take off our shoes before entering your state apart-
ment. " He stooped to undo the buckles of his shoes, and when
Balby wished to assist him, he resisted. " No, no ; you shall not
loosen my shoes you are too worthy for that. Madame Witte
might think that I am a very assuming person that I tyrannize
over my brother. There, madame, the buckles are undone, and
there lie my shoes, and now we are ready to enter your state apart-
ment. "
Madame Witte opened the door with cold gravity, and allowed
them to pass. " To-morrow I can dust again, " she said, gleefully,
"for the strangers' clothes are very dirty.
In the mean time, the two strangers awaited the arrival of Mr.
Witte. The king enjoyed his comic situation immensely. Balby
THE KING WITHOUT SHOES. 79
looked anxiously at the bare feet of the king, and said he should
never have submitted to Madame Witte's caprice. The floor was
cold, and the king might be taken ill.
" Oh, no, " said Frederick, " I do not get sick so easily my sys-
tem can stand severer hardships. We should be thankful that we
have come off so cheaply, for a rich banker like Witte in Amster-
dam, is equal to the Pope in Rome ; and I do not think taking off
our shoes is paying too dearly to see the pope of Holland. Just
think what King Henry IV. had to lay aside before he could see the
Pope of Rome not only his shoes and stockings and a few other
articles, but his royalty and majesty. Madame Witte is really for-
bearing not to require the same costume of us. "
The door behind them was opened hastily, and the banker Witte
stepped in. He advanced to meet them with a quiet smile, but
suddenly checked himself, and gazed with terror at the king.
"My God! his majesty the King of Prussia!" he stammered.
' Oh I your majesty ! what an undeserved favor you are doing my
poor house in honoring it with your presence !"
"You know me, then?" said the king, smiling. "Well, I beg
you may not betray my incognito, and cash for Frederick Zoller this
draft of ten thousand crowns. "
He stepped forward to hand the banker the draft. Mr. Witte
uttered a cry of horror, and, wringing his hands, fell upon his
knees. He had just seen that the king was barefooted.
"Oh! your majesty! Mercy! mercy!" he pleaded. "Pardon my
unhappy wife, who could not dream of the crime she was commit-
ting. Why did your majesty consent to her insane demand ? Why
did you not peremptorily refuse to take off your shoes?"
"Why? Well, ma foi, because I wished to spare the King of
Prussia a humiliation. I believe Madame Witte would rather have
thrown me out of the house than allowed me to enter this sacred
room with my shoes on. "
" No, your majesty, no. She would "
At this moment the door opened, and Madame Witte, drawn by
the loud voice of her husband, entered the room.
"Wife!" he cried, rising, "come forward; fall on your knees
and plead for forgiveness. "
"What have I done?" she asked, wonderingly.
" You compelled this gentleman to take off his shoes at the door. "
"Well, and what of that?"
"Well," said Mr. Witte, solemnly, as he laid his arm upon his
wife's shoulder and tried to force her to her knees, "this is his
majesty the King of Prussia 1"
But the all- important words had not the expected effect. Ma
80 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
dame Witte remained quietly standing, and looked first upon her
own bare feet and then curiously at the king.
"Beg the king's pardon for your most unseemly conduct," said
Witte.
"Why was it unseemly?" asked his better-half. "Do I not take
off my shoes every time I enter this room? The room is mine, and
does not belong to the King of Prussia. "
Witte raised his hands above his head in despair. The king
laughed loudly and heartily.
" You see I was right, sir, " he said. " Only obedience could spare
the King of Prussia a humiliation.* But let us go to your business-
room and arrange our moneyed affairs. There, madame, I suppose
you will allow me to put on my shoes. "
Without a word, Mr. Witte rushed from the room for the king's
shoes, and hastened to put them, not before the king, but before the
door that led into his counting room.
With a gay smile, the king stepped along the border of the carpet
to his shoes, and let Balby put them on for him.
" Madame, " he said, " I see that you are really mistress in your
own house, and that you are obeyed, not from force, but from in-
stinct. God preserve you your strong will and your good husband !"
" Now, " said the king, after they had received the money and
returned to the hotel, " we must make all our arrangements to return
to-morrow morning early our incognito is over ! Mr. Witte prom-
ised not to betray us, but his wife is not to be trusted ; therefore, by
to-morrow morning, the world will know that the King of Prussia
is in Amsterdam. Happily, Mr. Witte does not know where I am
stopping. I hope to be undisturbed to-day, but by to-morrow this
will be impossible. "
The king prophesied aright : Madame Witte was zealously en-
gaged in telling her friends the important news that the King of
Prussia had visited her husband, and was now in Amsterdam.
The news rolled like an avalanche from house to house, from
street to street, and even reached the mayor's door, who, in spite of
the lateness of the hour, called a meeting of the magistrates, and
sent policemen to all the hotels to demand a list of the strangers who
had arrived during the last few days. In order to greet the king,
they must first find him.
Early the next morning, a simple cateche, with two horses, stood
at the hotel of the " Black Raven. " The brothers Zoller were about
to leave Amsterdam, and, to Madame Blaken's astonishment, they
not only paid their bill without murmuring, but left a rich douceur
* The king's own words. See NicolaTs " Anecdotes of Frederick the Great," col-
lection v., p. 31.
THE KING WITHOUT SHOES. 81
for the servants. The hostess stepped to the door to bid them fare-
well, and nodded kindly as they came down the steps. Their ser-
vant followed with the little carpet-bag and the two music-cases.
When Deesen became aware of the presence of the hostess, and
the two head -servants, he advanced near to the king.
"Your majesty, may I now speak?" he murmured.
" Not yet, " said he king, smiling, " wait until we are in the car-
riage. "
He descended the steps, with a friendly nod to the hostess.
Balby and himself left the house.
" See, my friend, how truly I prophesied, " he said, as he pointed
down the street ; " let us get in quickly, it is high time to be off ; see
the crowd advancing. "
Frederick was right ; from the end of the street there came a long
procession of men, headed by the two mayors, dressed in black robes,
trimmed with broad red bands. They were followed by the senators,
clothed in the same manner. A great number of the rich aristocrats
of the city accompanied them.
Madame Blaken had stepped from the house, and was looking
curiously at the approaching crowd, and while she and her maids
were wondering what this could mean, the two Mr. Zollers entered
the carriage, and their servant had mounted the box.
"May I speak now?" said Deesen, turning to the king.
"Yes, speak," said the king, "but quickly, or the crowd will
take your secret from you. "
"Hostess !" cried Deesen, from the box, "do you know what that
crowd means?"
"No," she said, superciliously."
" I will explain ; listen, madame. The magistrates are coming
to greet the King of Prussia !"
"The King of Prussia!" shrieked the hostess. "Where is the
King of Prussia?"
"Here!" cried Deesen, with a malicious grin, as he pointed to
the king, "and I am his majesty's cabinet- hussar ! Forward, pos-
tilion ! quick, forward !"
The postilion whipped his horses, and the carriage dashed by
the mayors and senators, who were marching to greet the King of
Prussia. They never dreamed that he had just passed mischievously
by them.
Two days later, the king and his companionastood on the Prussian
border, on the spot where, in the beginning of their journey, the
king had written the words " majesty" and " sire. "
" Look !" he said, pointing to the ground, " the two fatal words
have not vanished away ; the sun has hardened the ground, and they
82 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
are still legible. I must lift them from the sand, and wear them
henceforth and forever. Give me your hand, Balby ; the poor mu-
sician, Frederick Zoller, will bid farewell to his friend, and not only
to you, Balby, but farewell also to my youth. This is my last youth-
ful adventure. Now, I shall grow old and cold gracefully. One
thing I wish to say before I resume my royalty ; confidentially, I
am not entirely displeased with the change. It seems to me diffi-
cult to fill the role of a common man. Men do not seem to love and
trust each other fully ; a man avenges himself on an innocent party
for the wrongs another has committed. Besides, I do not rightly
understand the politenesses of common life, and, therefore, received
many reproaches. I believe, on the whole, it is easier to bestow
than to receive them. Therefore, I take up my crown willingly. "
"Will your majesty allow me a word?" said Deesen, stepping
forward.
"Speak, Deesen."
"I thank Mr. Zoller for saving my life. As true as God lives, I
should have stifled with rage if I had not told that haughty Hol-
lander who Mr. Zoller was and who I was. "
" Now, forward ! Farewell, Frederick Zoller ! Now I am on
Prussian soil, the hour of thoughtless happiness is passed. I fear,
Balby, that the solemn duties of life will soon take possession of us.
So be it ! I accept my destiny I am again Frederick of Hohenzol-
lern !"
" And I have the honor to be the first to greet your majesty on
your own domain, " said Balby, as he bowed profoundly before the
king.
BOOK II
CHAPTER I.
THE UNHAPPY NEWS.
THE Princess Amelia was alone in her room. She was stretched
upon a sofa, lost in deep thought ; her eyes were raised to heaven,
and her lips trembled ; from time to time they murmured a word of
complaint or of entreaty.
Amelia was ill. She had been ill since that unhappy day in
which she intentionally destroyed her beauty to save herself from
a hated marriage.* Her eyes had never recovered their glance or
early fire ; they were always inflamed and veiled by tears. Her
voice had lost its metallic ring and youthful freshness ; it sounded
from her aching and hollow chest like sighs from a lonely grave.
Severe pain from time to time tortured her whole body, and con-
tracted her limbs with agonizing cramps. She had the appearance
of a woman of sixty years of age, who was tottering to the grave.
In this crushed and trembling body dwelt a strong, powerful,
healthy soul ; this shrunken, contracted bosom was animated by
a youthful, ardent, passionate heart. This heart had consecrated
itself to the love of its early years with an obstinate and feverish
power.
In wild defiance against her fate, Amelia had sworn never to
yield, never to break faith ; to bear all, to suffer all for her love, and
to press onward with unshaken resignation but never-failing courage
through the storms and agonies of a desolate, misunderstood, and
wretched existence. She was a martyr to her birth and her love ;
she accepted this martyrdom with defiant self-reliance and joyful
resignation.
Years had passed since she had seen Trenck, but she loved him
still ! She knew he had not guarded the faith they had mutually
sworn with the constancy that she had religiously maintained ; but
she loved him still ! She had solemnly sworn to her brother to give
up the foolish and fantastic wish of becoming the wife of Trenck ;
but she loved him still ! She might not live for him, but she would
* See " Berlin and Sans-Souci."
84 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
suffer for him ; she could not give him her hand, but she could con-
secrate thought and soul to him. In imagination she was his, only
his ; he had a holy, an imperishable right to her. Had she not
sworn, in the presence of God, to be his through life down to the
borders of the grave? Truly, no priest had blessed them; God had
been their priest, and had united them. There had been no mortal
witness to their solemn oaths, but the pure stars were present with
their sparkling, loving eyes they had looked down and listened to
the vows she had exchanged with Trenck. She was therefore his
his eternally ! He had a sacred claim upon her constancy, her love,
her forbearance, and her forgiveness. If Trenck had wandered from
his faith, she dared not follow his example ; she must be ever ready
to listen to his call, and give him the aid he required.
Amelia's love was her religion, her life's strength, her life's ob-
ject ; it was a talisman to protect and give strength in time of
need. She would have died without it; she lived and struggled
with her grief only for his sake.
This was a wretched, joyless existence a never-ending martyr-
dom, a never-ceasing contest. Amelia stood alone and unloved in
her family, feared and avoided by all the merry, thoughtless,
pleasure seeking circle. In her sad presence they shuddered invol-
untarily and felt chilled, as by a blast from the grave. She was an
object of distrust and weariness to her companions and servants, an
object of love and frank affection to no one.
Mademoiselle Ernestine von Haak had alone remained true to
her ; but she had married, and gone far away with her husband.
Princess Amelia was now alone ; there was no one to whom she
could express her sorrow and her fears ; no one who understood her
suppressed agony, or who spoke one word of consolation or sympathy
to her broken heart.
She was alone in the world, and the consciousness of this steeled
her strength, and made an impenetrable shield for her wearied soul.
She gave herself up entirely to her thoughts and dreams. She lived
a strange, enchanted, double life and twofold existence. Outwardly,
she was old, crushed, ill ; her interior life was young, fresh, glow-
ing, and energetic, endowed with unshaken power, and tempered in
the fire of her great grief. Amelia lay upon the divan and looked
dreamily toward heaven. A strange and unaccountable presenti-
ment was upon her ; she trembled with mysterious forebodings. She
had always felt thus when any new misfortunes were about to befall
Trenck. It seemed as if her soul was bound to his, and by means of
an electric current she felt the blow in the same moment that it fell
upon him.
The princess believed in these presentiments. She had faith in
THE UNHAPPY NEWS. 85
dreams and prophecies, as do all those unhappy beings to whom fate
has denied real happiness, and who seek wildly in fantastic visions
for compensation. She loved, therefore, to look into the future
through fortune-tellers and dark oracles, and thus prepare herself for
the sad events which lay before her. The day before, the renowned
astrologer Pfannenstein had warned her of approaching peril ; he de-
clared that a cloud of tears was in the act of bursting upon her I
Princess Amelia believed in his words, and waited with a bold,
resolved spirit for the breaking of the cloud, whose gray veil she
already felt to be round about her.
These sad thoughts were interrupted by a light knock upon the
door, and her maid entered and announced that the master of cere-
monies, Baron Pollnitz, craved an audience.
Amelia shuddered, but roused herself quickly. " Let him enter !"
she said, hastily. The short moment of expectation seemed an eter-
nity of anguish. She pressed her hands upon her heart, to still its
stormy beatings ; she looked with staring, wide-opened eyes toward
the door through which Pollnitz must enter, and she shuddered as
she looked upon the ever-smiling, immovable face of the courtier,
who now entered her boudoir, with Mademoiselle von Marwitz at
his side.
" Do you know, Pollnitz, " said she, in a rough, imperious tone
"do you know I believe your face is not flesh and blood, but hewn
from stone ; or, at least, one day it was petrified? Perhaps the fatal
hour struck one day, just as you were laughing over some of your
villanies, and your smile was turned to stone as a judgment. I shall
know this look as long as I live ; it is ever most clearly marked upon
your visage, when you have some misfortune to announce. "
"Then this stony smile must have but little expression to-day,
for I do not come as a messenger of evil tidings ; but if your royal
highness will allow me to say so, as a sort of postilion d' amour. "
Amelia shrank back for a moment, gave one glance toward
Mademoiselle von Marwitz, whom she knew full well to be the
watchful spy of her mother, and whose daily duty it was to relate
to the queen-mother every thing which took place in the apartment
of the princess. She knew that every word and look of Pollnitz was
examined with the strictest attention.
Pollnitz, however, spoke on with cool self-possession :
" You look astonished, princess ; it perhaps appears to you that
this impassive face is little suited to the role of postilion d' amour,
and yet that is my position, and I ask your highness's permission to
make known my errand. "
" I refuse your request, " said Amelia, roughly ; " I have nothing
to do with Love, and find his godship as old and dull as the messen-
86 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ger he has sent me. Go back, then, to your blind god, and tell him
that my ears are deaf to his love greeting, and the screeching of the
raven is more melodious than the tenderest words a Polmitz can
utter. "
The princess said this in her most repulsive tone. She was accus-
tomed to shield herself in this rude manner from all approach or
contact, and, indeed, she attained her object. She was feared and
avoided. Her witty bon mots and stinging jests were repeated and
merrily laughed over, but the world knew that she scattered her
sarcasms far and wide, in order to secure her isolation ; to banish
every one from her presence, so that none might hear her sighs, or
read her sad history in her countenance.
"And yet, princess, I must still implore a hearing," said he,
with imperturbable good -humor ; " if my voice is rough as the
raven's, your royal highness must feed me with sugar, and it will
become soft and tender as an innocent maiden's. "
"I think a few ducats would be better for your case," said
Amelia ; " a Pollnitz is not to be won with sweets, but for gold he
would follow the devil to the lower regions. "
" You are right, princess ; I do not wish to go to heaven, but be-
low ; there I am certain to find the best and most interesting society.
The genial people are all born devils, and your highness has ever
confessed that I am genial. Then let it be so ! I will accept the
ducats which your royal highness think good for me, and now allow
me to discharge my duty. I come as the messenger of Prince
Henry. He sends his heart-felt greetings to his royal sister, and
begs that she will do him the honor to attend a, fete at Rheinsberg,
which will take place in eight days. "
" Has the master of ceremonies of the king become the fourrier
of Prince Henry?" said Amelia.
" No, princess ; I occasionally and accidentally perform the func-
tion of a, fourrier. This invitation was not my principal object to-
day."
" I knew it, " said Amelia, ironically. "My brother Hemy does
not love me well enough to invite me to this fete, if he had not some
other object to attain. Well, what does Prince Henry wish ?"
" A small favor, your royal highness ; he wishes, on the birth-
day of his wife, to have Voltaire's 'Rome Sauvee' given by the
French tragedians. Some years since your highness had a great
triumph in this piece. The prince remembers that Voltaire pre-
pared the r6le of Aurelia especially for you, with changes and addi-
tions, and he entreats you, through me, the temporary Directeur des
spectacles de Rheinsberg, to lend him this role for the use of his
performer. "
THE UNHAPPY NEWS. 87
"Why does not my brother rather entreat me to take this part
myself?" said Amelia, in cruel mockery over herself. "It appears
to me I could look the part of Aurelia, and my soft, flute-like voice
would make a powerful impression upon the public. It is cruel of
Prince Henry to demand this role of me ; it might be inferred that
he thought I had become old and ugly. "
"Not so, your highness; the tragedy is to be performed on this
occasion by public actors, and not by amateurs. "
" You are right, " said Amelia, suddenly becoming grave ; " at
that time we were amateurs, lovers of the drama ; our dreams are
>ver we live in realities now. "
"Mademoiselle von Marwitz, have the goodness to bring the
manuscript my brother wishes; it is partly written by Voltaire's
own hand. You will find it in the bureau in my dressing-room. "
Mademoiselle Marwitz withdrew to get the manuscript ; as she
left the room, she looked back suspiciously at Pollnitz and, as if by
accident, left the door open which led to the dressing-room.
Mademoiselle Marwitz had scarcely disappeared, before Pollnitz
sprang forward, with youthful agility, and closed the door.
"Princess, this commission of Prince Henry's was only a pre-
text. I took this order from the princess's maitre d'hotel in order
to approach your highness unnoticed, and to get rid of the watchful
eyes of your Marwitz. Now listen well ; Weingarten, the Austrian
secretary of Legation, was with me to-day."
" Ah, Weingarten, " murmured the princess, tremblingly ; " he
gave you a letter for me ; quick, quick, give it to me. "
"No, he gave me no letter ; it appears that he, who formerly sent
letters, is no longer in the condition to do so. "
"He is dead!" cried Amelia with horror, and sank back as if
struck by lightning.
"No, princess, he is not dead, but in great danger. It appears
that Weingarten is in great need of money ; for a hundred louis
d'or, which I promised him, he confided to me that Trenck's ene-
mies had excited the suspicions of the king against him, and de-
clared that Trenck had designs against the life of Frederick. "
"The miserable liars and slanderers!" cried Amelia, contemptu-
ously.
" The king, as it appears, believes in these charges ; he has writ-
ten to his resident minister to demand of the senate of Dantzic the
delivery of Trenck. "
"Trenck is not in Dantzic, but in Vienna."
" He is in Dantzic or, rather, he was there. "
"And now?"
"Now," said Pollnitz, solemnly, "he is on the way to Kunigg-
88 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
berg ; from that point he will be transported to some other fortress ;
first, however, he will be brought to Berlin. "
The unhappy princess uttered a shriek, which sounded like a
wild death-cry. "He is, then, a prisoner?"
" Yes ; but, on his way to prison, so long as he does not cross the
threshold of the fortress, it is possible to deliver him. Weingarten,
who, it appears to me, is much devoted to your highness, has drawn
for me the plan of the route Trenck is to take. Here it is. " He
handed the princess a small piece of paper, which she seized with
trembling hands, and read hastily.
" He comes through Coslin, " said she, joyfully ; " that gives a
chance of safety in Coslin ! The Duke of Wurtemberg, the friend
of my youthful days, is in Coslin ; he will assist me. Pollnitz,
quick, quick, find me a courier who will carry a letter to the duke
for me without delay. "
" That will be difficult, if not impossible, " said Pollnitz, thought-
fully.
Amelia sprang from her seat ; her eyes had the old fire, her
features their youthful expression and elasticity.
The power and ardor of her soul overcame the weakness of her
body ; it found energy and strength.
" Well, then, " said she, decisively, and even her voice was firm
and soft, " I will go myself ; and woe to him who dares withhold
me ! I have been ordered to take sea-baths. I will go this hour to
Coslin for that purpose ! but no, no, I cannot travel so rashly. Poll-
nitz, you must find me a courier. "
"I will try, " said Pollnitz. " One can buy all the glories of this
world for gold ; and, I think, your highness will not regard a few
louis d'or, more or less."
" Find me a messenger, and I will pay every hour of his journey
with a gold piece. "
" I will send my own servant ; in half an hour he shall be
ready. "
" God be thanked ! it will, then, be possible to save him. Let
me write this letter at once, and hasten your messenger. Let him
fly as if he had wings as if the wild winds of heaven bore him on-
ward. The sooner he brings me the answer of the duke, the greater
shall be his reward. Oh, I will reward him as if I were a rich
queen, and not a poor, forsaken, sorrowf ul princess. "
"Write, princess, write," cried Pollnitz, eagerly; "but no, have
the goodness to give me the hundred louis d'or before Mademoiselle
Marwitz returns. I promised them to Weingarten for his news ;
you can add to them the ducats you were graciously pleased to be-
stow upon me. "
THE UNHAPPY NEWS. 89
Amelia did not reply ; she stepped to the table and wrote a few
lines, which she handed to Pollnitz.
" Take this, " said she, almost contemptuously ; " it is a draft
upon my banker, Orguelin. I thank you for allowing your services
to be paid for ; it relieves me from all call to gratitude. Serve me
faithfully in future, and you shall ever find my hand open and my
purse full. And now give me time to write to the duke, and "
" Princess, I hear Mademoiselle Marwitz returning !"
Amelia left the writing-table hastily, and advanced to the door
through which Mademoiselle Marwitz must enter.
u Ah, you are come at last, " said she, as the door opened. " I
was about to seek you. I feared you could not find the paper. "
" It was very difficult to find amongst such a mass of letters and
papers," said Mademoiselle Marwitz, whose suspicious glance was
now wandering round the room. " I succeeded, however, at last ;
here is the manuscript, your highness. "
The princess took it and examined it carefully. " Ah, I thought
so, " she said. " A monologue which Voltaire wrote for me, is miss-
ing. I gave it to the king, and I see he has not returned it. I think
my memory is the only faculty which retains its power. It is my
misfortune that I cannot forget ! I "will test it to-day and try to
write this monologue from memory. I must be alone, however. I
pray you, mademoiselle, to go into the saloon with Pollnitz ; he can
entertain you with the Chronique Scandaleuse of our most virtuous
court, while I am writing. And now," said she, when she found
herself alone, " may God give me power to reach the heart of the
duke, and win him to my purpose !"
With a firm hand she wrote :
"Because you are happy, duke, you will have pity for the
wretched. For a few days past, you have had your young and
lovely wife at your side, and experienced the pure bliss of a happy
union ; you will therefore comprehend the despair of those who love
as fondly, and can never be united. And now, I would remind you
of a day on which it was in my power to obtain for you a great
favor from my brother the king. At that time you promised me to
return this service tenfold, should it ever be in your power, and you
made me promise, if I should ever need assistance, to turn to you
alone ! My hour has come ! I need your help ; not for myself ! God
and death alone can help me. I demand your aid for a man who is
chained with me to the galleys. You know him have mercy upon
him ! Perhaps he will arrive at your court in the same hour with
my letter. Duke, will you be the jailer of the wretched and the
powerless, who is imprisoned only because I am the daughter of a
king? Are your officers constables? will you allow them to cast
T
90 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
into an eternal prison him for whom I have wept night and day for
many long years?
"Oh, my God! my God! you have given wings to the birds of
the air ; you have given to the horse his fiery speed ; you have de-
clared that man is the king of creation ; you have marked upon his
brow the seal of freedom, and this is his holiest possession. Oh,
friend, will you consent that a noble gentleman, who has nothing
left but his freedom, shall be unjustly deprived of it ! Duke, I call
upon you ! Be a providence for my unhappy friend, and set him
at liberty. And through my whole life long I will bless and honor
you ! AMELIA. "
" If he does not listen to this outcry of my soul, " she whispered,
as she folded and sealed the letter " if he has the cruelty to let me
plead in vain, then in my death-hour I will curse him, and charge
him with being the murderer of my last hope !"
The princess called Pollnitz, and, with an expressive glance, she
handed him the letter.
" Truly, my memory has not failed me, " she said to Mademoiselle
Marwitz, who entered behind Pollnitz, and whose sharp eyes were
fixed upon the letter in the baron's hand. "I have been able to
write the whole monologue. Give this paper to my brother, Poll-
nitz ; I have added a few friendly lines, and excused myself for de-
clining the invitation. I cannot see this drama. "
" Well, it seems to me I have made a lucrative affair of this, "
said Pollnitz to himself, as he left the princess. " I promised Wein-
garten only fifty louis d'or, so fifty remain over for myself, without
counting the ducats which the princess intends for me. Besides, I
shall be no such fool as to give my servant, who steals from me
every day, the reward the princess has set apart for him ; and if I
give him outside work to do, it is my opportunity ; he is my slave,
and the reward is properly mine. "
"Listen, John!" said Pollnitz to his servant, as he entered his
apartment. Poor John was, at the same time, body-servant, jockey,
and coachman. " Listen ; do you know exactly how much you have
loaned me ?"
" To a copper, your excellency, " said John, joyfully. Poor John
thought that the hour of settlement had come. " Your excellency
owes me fifty-three thalers, four groschen, and five pennies. "
"Common soul," cried Pollnitz, shrugging his shoulders con-
temptuously, " to be able to keep m remembrance such pitiful things
as groschen and coppers. Well, I have a most pressing and impor-
tant commission for you. You must saddle your horse immediately,
and hasten to deliver this letter to the Duke of Wurtemberg. You
must ride night and day and not rest till you arrive and deliver thi-j
THE UNHAPPY NEWS. 91
packet into the duke's own hands. I will then allow you a day's
rest for yourself and horse ; your return must be equally rapid. If
you are here again in eight days, I will reward you royally. "
" That is to say, your excellency" said John, in breathless ex-
pectation.
" That is to say, I will pay you half the sum I owe you, if you
are here in eight days ; if you are absent longer, you will get only a
third."
"And if I return a day earlier?" said John, sighing.
" I will give you a few extra thalers as a reward, " said Pollnitz.
" But your excellency will, besides this, give me money for the
journey, " said John, timidly.
"Miserable, shameless beggar!" cried Pollnitz; " always demand-
ing more than one is willing to accord you. Learn from your noble
master that there is nothing more pitiful, more sordid than gold,
and that those only are truly noble who serve others for honor's
sake, and give no thought to reward. "
" But, your grace, I have already the honor to have lent you all
my money. I have not even a groschen to buy food for myself and
horse on my journey. "
"As for your money, sir, it is, under all circumstances, much
safer with me than with you. You would surely spend it foolishly,
while I will keep it together. Besides this, there is no other way to
make servants faithful and submissive but to bind them to you by
the miserable bond of selfishness. You would have left me a hun-
dred times, if you had not been tied down by your own pitiful
interests. You know well that if you leave me without my permis-
sion, the law allows me to punish you, by giving the money I owe
you to the poor. But enough of foolish talking ! Make ready for
the journey ; in half an hour you must leave Berlin behind you. I
will give you a few thalers to buy food. Now, hasten ! Remember,
if you remain away longer than eight days, I will give you only a
third of the money I am keeping for you. "
This terrible threat had its effect upon poor John.
In eight days Pollnitz sought the princess, and with a triumphant
glance, slipped a letter into her hand, which read thus :
" I thank you, princess, that you have remembered me, and given
me an opportunity to aid the unhappy. You are right. God made
raan to be free. I am no jailer, and my officers are not constables.
They have, indeed, the duty to conduct the unhappy man who has
been for three days the guest of my house, further on toward the
fortress, but his feet and his hands shall be free, and if he takes a
lesson from the bird in velocity, and from the wild horse in speed,
his present escaoe will cost him less than his flight from Glatz. My
92 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
officers cannot be always on the watch, and God's world is large;
it is impossible to guard every point. My soldiers accompany him
to the brook Coslin. I commend the officer who will be discharged
for neglect of duty to your highness. FERDINAND. "
" He will have my help and my eternal gratitude, " whispered
Amelia ; she then pressed the letter of the duke passsonately to her
lips. "Oh, my God! I feel to-day what I have never before
thought possible, that one can be happy without happiness. If fate
will be merciful, and not thwart the noble purpose of Duke Ferdi-
nand, from this time onward I will never murmur never complain.
I will demand nothing of the future ; never more to see him, never
more to hear from him, only that he may be free and happy. "
In the joy of her heart she not only fulfilled her promise to give
the messenger a gold piece for every hour of his journey, but she
added a costly diamond pin for Pollnitz, which the experienced
baron, even while receiving it from the trembling hand of the prin-
cess, valued at fifty louis d'or.
The baron returned with a well-filled purse and a diamond pin to
his dwelling, and with imposing solemnity he called John into his
boudoir.
" John, " said he, " I am content with you. You have promptly
fulfilled my commands. You returned the seventh day, and have
earned the extra thalers. As for your money, how much do I owe
you?"
" Fifty-three thalers, four groschen, and five pennies. "
"And the half of this is"
"Twenty-seven thalers, fourteen groschen, two and a half pen-
nies," said John, with a loudly beating heart and an expectant
smile. He saw that the purse was well filled, and that his master
was taking out the gold pieces. "
"I will give you, including your extra guldens, twenty-eight
thalers, fourteen groschen, two and a half pennies, " said Pollnitz,
laying some gold pieces on the table. "Here are six louis d'or, or
thirty-six thalers in gold to reckon up ; the fractions you claim are
beneath my dignity. Take them, John, they are yours."
John uttered a cry of rapture, and sprang forward with out-
stretched hands to seize his gold. He had succeeded in gathering
up three louis d'or, when the powerful hand of the baron seized him
and held him back.
"John, "said he, "I read in your wild, disordered countenance
that you are a spendthrift, and this gold, which you have earned
honestly, will soon be wasted in boundless follies. It is my duty,
as your conscientious master and friend, to prevent this. I cannot
allow you to take all of this money only one-half ; only three louis
TRENCK ON HIS WAY TO PRISON. 93
d'or. I will put the other three with the sum. which I still hold,
and take care of it for you. "
With an appearance of firm principle and piety, he grasped the
three louis d'or upon which the sighing John fixed his tearful eyes.
" And now, what is the amount, " said Pollnitz, gravely, " which
you have placed in my hands for safe- keeping?"
" Thirty-two thalers, fourteen groschen, and five pennies, " said
John; "and then the fractions from the three louis d'ors makes a
thaler and eight groschen. "
" Pitiful miser ! You dare to reckon fractions against your mas-
ter, who, in his magnanimity, has just presented you with gold !
This is a meanness which merits exemplary punishment. "
CHAPTER II.
TRENCK ON HIS WAY TO PRISON.
BEFORE the palace of the Duke of Wurtemberg, in C6slin, stood
the light, open carriage in which the duke was accustomed to make
excursions, when inclined to carry the reins himself, and enjoy
freedom and the pure, fresh air, without etiquette and ceremony.
To-day, however, the carriage was not intended for an ordinary
excursion, but to transport a prisoner. This prisoner was no other
than the unhappy Frederick Trenck, whom the cowardly republic of
Dantzic, terrified at the menaces of the king, had delivered up to
the Prussian police.
The intelligence of his unhappy fate flew like a herald before
him. He was guarded by twelve hussars, and the sad procession was
received everywhere throughout the journey with kindly sympathy.
All exerted themselves to give undoubted proofs of pity and consid-
eration. Even the officers in command, who sat by him in the car-
riage, and who were changed at every station, treated him as a
loved comrade in arms, and not as a state prisoner.
But while all sighed and trembled for him, Trenck alone was
gay ; his countenance alone was calm and courageous. Not one
moment, during the three days he passed in the palace of the duke,
was his youthful and handsome face clouded by a single shadow.
Not one moment did that happy, cheerful manner, by which he won
all hearts, desert him. At the table, he was the brightest and witti-
est ; his amusing narratives, anecdotes, and droll ideas made not
only the duke, but the duchess and her maids, laugh merrily. In
the afternoons, in the saloon of the duchess, he astonished and en-
raptured the whole court circle by improvising upon any given
94 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
theme, and by the tasteful and artistic manner in which he sang
the national ballads he had learned on his journeys through Italy,
Germany, and Russia. At other times, he conversed with the duke
upon philosophy and state policy ; and he was amazed at the varied
information and wisdom of this young man, who seemed an experi-
enced soldier and an adroit diplomat, a profound statesman, and a
learned historian. By his dazzling talents, he not only interested
but enchained his listeners.
The duke felt sadly that it was not possible to retain the prisoner
longer in Coslin. Three days of rest was the utmost that could be
granted Trenck, without exciting suspicion. He sighed, as he told
Trenck that his duty required of him to send him further on his dark
journey.
Trenck received this announcement with perfect composure,
with calm self-possession. He took leave of the duke and duchess,
and thanked them gayly for their gracious reception.
" I hope that my imprisonment will be of short duration, and then
your highness will, I trust, allow me to return to you, and offer the
thanks of a free man. "
"May we soon meet again !" said the duke, and he looked search-
ingly upon Trenck, as if he wished to read his innermost thoughts.
"As soon as you are free, come to me. I will not forsake you, no
matter under what circumstances you obtain your freedom. "
Had Trenck observed the last emphatic words of the duke, and
did he understand their meaning? The duke did not know. No
wink of the eyelid, not the slightest sign, gave evidence that Trenck
had noticed their significance. He bowed smilingly, left the room
with a firm step, and entered the carriage.
The duke called back the ordnance officer who was to conduct
him to the next station.
"You have not forgotten my command?" said he.
" No, your highness, I have not forgotten ; and obedience is a
joyful duty, which I will perform punctually."
"You will repeat this command, in my name, to the officer at
the next station, and commission him to have it repeated at every
station where my regiments are quartered. Every one shall give
Trenck an opportunity to escape, but silently ; no word must be spoken
to him on the subject. It must depend upon him to make use of
the most favorable moment. My intentions toward him must be
understood by him without explanations. He who is so unfortunate
as to allow the prisoner to escape, can only be blamed for careless-
ness in duty. Upon me alone will rest the responsibility to the
King of Prussia. You shall proceed but five or six miles each day ;
at this rate of travel it will take four days to reach the last barracks
TRENCK ON HIS WAY TO PRISON. 95
of my soldiers, and almost the entire journey lies through dark, thick
woods, and solitary highways. Now go, and may God be with you !"
The duke stepped to the window to see Trenck depart, and to
give him a last greeting.
"Well, if he is not at liberty in the next few days, it will surely
not be my fault, " murmured Duke Ferdinand, " and Princess Amelia
cannot reproach me. "
As Trenck drove from the gate, Duke Ferdinand turned thought-
fully away. He was, against his will, oppressed by sad presenti-
ments. For Trenck, this journey over the highways in the light,
open carriage, was actual enjoyment. He inhaled joyfully the pure,
warm, summer air his eyes rested with rapture upon the waving
corn-fields, and the blooming, fragrant meadows through which
they passed. With gay shouts and songs he seemed to rival the lark
as she winged her way into the clouds above him. He was inno-
cent, careless, and happy as a child. The world of Nature had been
shut out from him in the dark, close carriage which had brought
him to Coslin ; she greeted him now with glad smiles and gay
adorning. It seemed as if she were decorated for him with her
most odorous blossoms and most glorious sunshine as if she sent
her softest breeze to kiss his cheek and whisper love -greetings in his
ear. With upturned, dreamy glance, he followed the graceful
movements of the pure, white clouds, and the rapid flight of the
birds. Trenck was so happy in even this appearance of freedom,
that he mistook it for liberty.
The carriage rolled slowly over the sandy highways, and now
entered a wood. The sweet odor of the fir-trees drew from Trenck a
cry of rapture. He had felt the heat of the sun to be oppressive,
and he now laid his head back under the shadow of the thick trees
with a feeling of gladness.
It will take us some hours to get through this forest," said the
ordnance officer. "It is one of the thickest woods in this region,
and the terror of the police. The escaped prisoner who succeeds in
concealing himself here, may defy discovery. It is impossible to
pursue him in these dark, tangled woods, and a few hours conduct
him to the sea-shore, where there are ever small fishing-boats ready
to receive the fugitive and place him safely upon some passing ship.
But excuse me, sir ! the sun has been blazing down so hotly upon
my head that I feel thoroughly wearied, and will follow the exam-
ple of my coachman. Look ! he is fast asleep, and the horses are
moving on of their own good-will. Good-night, Baron Trenck."
He closed his eyes, and in a short time his loud snores and the
nodding of his head from side to side gave assurance that he, also,
was locked in slumber.
96 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Profound stillness reigned around. Trenck gave himself wholly
to the enjoyment of the moment. The peaceful stillness of the
forest, interrupted only at intervals by the snorting of the horses,
the sleepy chatter of the birds among the dark green branches, and
the soft rustling and whispering of the trees, filled him with
delight.
"It is clear," he said to himself, "that this arrest in Dantzic was
only a manoeuvre to terrify me. I rejected the proposal of the Prus-
sian ambassador in Vienna, to return to Berlin and enter again the
Prussian service, so the king wishes to punish and frighten me.
This is a jest a comedy ! which the king is carrying on at my ex-
pense. If I were really regarded as a deserter, as a prisoner for the
crime of high treason, no officer would dare to guard me so care-
lessly. In the beginning, I was harshly treated, in order to alarm
and deceive me, and truly those twelve silent hussars, continually
surrounding the closed carriage, had rather a melancholy aspect,
and I confess I was imposed upon. But the mask has fallen, and I
see behind the smiling, good-humored face of the king. He loved
me truly once, and was as kind as a father. The old love has
awakened and spoken in my favor. Frederick wishes to have me
again in Berlin that is all ; and he knows well that I can be of
service to him. He who has his spies everywhere, knows that no
one else can give him such definite information as to the intentions
and plans of Russia as I can that no one knows so certainly what
the preparations for war, now going on throughout the whole of
Russia, signify. Yes, yes ; so it is ! Frederick will have me again
in his service ; he knows of my intimacy with the all-powerful wife
of Bestuchef ; that I am in constant correspondence with her, and
in this way informed of all the plans of the Russian government.*
Possibly, the king intends to send me as a secret ambassador to St.
Petersburg ! That would, indeed, open a career to me, and bring
me exalted honor, and perhaps make that event possible which has
heretofore only floated before my dazzled sight like a dream -picture.
Oh, Amelia ! noblest, most constant of women ! could the dreams of
our youth be realized? If fate, softened by your tears and your
heroic courage, would at last unite you with him you have so fondly
and so truly loved ! Misled by youth, presumption, and levity, I
have sometimes trifled with my most holy remembrances, sometimes
seemed unfaithful ; but my love to you has never failed ; I have
worn it as a talisman about my heart. I have ever worshipped you,
I have ever hoped in you, and I will believe in you always, if I
doubt and despair of all others. Oh, Amelia ! protecting angel of
my life ! perhaps 1 may now return to you. I shall see you again,
* Frederick Trenck's "Memoirs."
TRENCK ON HIS WAY TO PRISON. 9?
look once more into your beauteous eyes, kneel humbly before you,
and receive absolution for my sins. They were but sins of the flesh,
my soul had no part in them. I will return to you, and live free,
honored, and happy by your side. I know this by the gracious re-
ception of the duke ; I know it by the careless manner in which I
am guarded. Before the officer went to sleep he told me how
securely a fugitive could hide himself in these woods. I, however,
have no necessity to hide myself ; no misfortune hovers over me,
honor and gladness beckon me on. I will not be so foolish as to fly ;
life opens to me new and flowery paths, greets me with laughing
hopes. " *
Wholly occupied with these thoughts, Trenck leaned back in the
carriage and gave himself up to bright dreams of the future. Slowly
the horses moved through the deep, white sand, which made the
roll of the wheels noiseless, and effaced instantaneously the footprints
of men. The officer still slept, the coachman had dropped the reins,
and nodded here and there as if intoxicated. The wood was drear
and empty ; no human dwelling, no human face was seen. Had
Trenck wished to escape, one spring from the low, open carriage ; a
hundred hasty steps would have brought him to a thicket where
discovery was impossible ; the carriage would have rolled on quietly,
and when the sleepers aroused themselves, they would have had no
idea of the direction Trenck had taken. The loose and rolling sand
would not have retained his footprints, and the whispering trees
would not have betrayed him.
Trenck would not fly ; he was full of romance, faith, and hope ;
his sanguine temper painted his future in enchanting colors. No,
he would not flee, he had faith in his star. Life's earnest tragedy
had yet for him a smiling face, and life's bitter truths seemed allur-
ing visions. No, the king only wished to try him ; he wished to see
if he could frighten him into an effort to escape ; he gave him the
opportunity for flight, but if he made use of it, he would be lost
forever in the eyes of Frederick, and his prospects utterly destroyed.
If he bravely suffered the chance of escape to pass by, and arrived
in Berlin, to all appearance a prisoner, the king would have the
agreeable task of undeceiving him, and Trenck would have shown
conclusively that he had faith in the king's magnanimity, and gave
himself up to him without fear. He would have proved also that
his conscience was clear, and that, without flattering, he could yield
himself to the judgment of the king. " No, Trenck would not fly.
In Berlin, liberty, love, and Amelia awaited him ; he would lose all
this by flight ; it would all remain his if he did not allow himself
to be enticed by the flattering goddess, opportunity, who now beck-
* "Frederick Treuek'a Memoirs."
98 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
oned and nodded smilingly from behind every tree and every thicket.
Trenck withstood these enticements during three long days ; with
careless indifference he passed slowly on through this lonely region ;
in his arrogant blindness and self -confidence he did not observe the
careworn and anxious looks of the officers who conducted him ;
he did not hear or understand the low, hesitating insinuations they
dared to speak.
"This is your last resting- point, " said the officer who had con-
ducted him from the last station. " You will remain here this after-
noon, and early to-morrow morning the cavalry officer Von Halber
will conduct you to Berlin, where the last barracks of our regiment
are to be found ; from that point the infantry garrison will take
charge of your further transportation. "
"I shall not make their duties difficult," said Trenck, gayly.
" You see I am a good- natured prisoner ; no Argus eyes are neces-
sary, as I have no intention to flee. "
The officer gazed into his calm, smiling face with amazement,
and then stepped out with the officer Von Halber, into whose house
they had now entered, to make known his doubts and apprehensions.
"Perhaps the opportunities which have been offered him have
not been sufficiently manifest, " said Von Halber. " Perhaps he has
not regarded them as safe, and he fears a failure. In that he is
right ; a vain attempt at flight would be much more prejudicial to
him than to yield himself without opposition. Well, I will see that
he has now a sure chance to escape, and you may believe he will be
cunning enough to take advantage of it. You may say this much
to his highness the duke. "
" But do not forget that the duke commanded us not to betray his
intention to prepare these opportunities by a single word. This
course would compromise the duke and all of us. "
" I understand perfectly, " said Von Halber ; " I will speak elo-
quently by deeds, and not with words. "
True to this intention, Von Halber, after having partaken of a
gay dinner with Trenck and several officers, left his house, accom-
panied by all his servants.
" The horses must be exercised, " said he ; and, as he was unmar-
ried, no one remained in the house but Trenck.
" You will be my house-guard for several hours, " said the officer
to Trenck, who was standing at the door as he drove off. "I hope
no one will come to disturb your solitude. My officers all accom-
pany me, and I have no acquaintance in this little village. You
will be entirely alone, and if, on my return, I find that you have
disappeared in mist and fog, I shall believe that ennui has extin-
guished you reduced you to a bodiless nothing. "
TRENCK ON HIS WAY TO PRISON. 99
" Well, I think he must have understood that, " said Von Halber,
as he dashed down the street, followed by his staff. " He must be
blind and deaf if he does not flee from the fate before him. "
Trenck, alas ! had not understood. He believed in no danger,
and did not, therefore, see the necessity for flight. He found this
quiet, lonely house inexpressibly wearisome. He wandered through
the rooms, seeking some object of interest, or some book which
would enable him to pass the tedious hours. The cavalry officer was
a gallant and experienced soldier, but he was no scholar, and had
nothing to do with books. Trenck's search was in vain. Discon-
tented and restless, he wandered about, and at last entered the little
court which led to the stable. A welcome sound fell on his ears,
and made his heart beat jofyully ; with rapid steps he entered the
stable. Two splendid horses stood in the stalls, snorting and stamp-
ing impatiently ; they were evidently riding-horses, for near them
hung saddles and bridles. Their nostrils dilated proudly as they
threw their heads back to breathe the fresh air which rushed in at
the open door. It appeared to Trenck that their flashing eyes were
pleading to him for liberty and action.
" Poor beasts, " said he, stepping forward, and patting and caress-
ing them " poor beasts, you also pine for liberty, and hope for my
assistance ; but I cannot, I dare not aid you. Like you, I also am a
prisoner, and like you also, a prisoner to my will. If you would
use your strength, one movement of your powerful muscles would
tear your bonds asunder, and your feet would bear you swiftly like
wings through the air. If I would use the present opportunity,
which beckons and smiles upon me, it would be only necessary to
spring upon your back and dash off into God's fair and lovely world.
We would reach our goal, we would be free, but we would both be
lost ; we would be recaptured, and would bitterly repent our short
dream of self-acquired freedom. It is better for us both that we
remain as we are ; bound, not with chains laid upon our bodies, but
by wisdom and discretion.
So saying, he smoothed tenderly the glossy throat of the gallant
steed, whose jofyul neigh filled his heart with an inexplicable mel-
ancholy.
" I must leave you, " murmured he, shudderingly ; " your lusty
neighing intoxicates my senses, and reminds me of green fields and
fragrant meadows ; of the broad highways, and the glad feeling of
liberty which one enjoys when flying through the world on the back
of a gallant steed. No ! no ! I dare no longer look upon you ; all my
wisdom and discretion might melt away, and I might be allured to
seek for myself that freedom which I must receive alone at the
hands of the king, in Berlin. "
100 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
With hasty steps Trenck left the stable and returned to the house,
where he stretched himself upon the sofa, and gave himself up to
dreamland. It was twilight when Halber returned from his long
ride.
"All is quiet and peaceful," said he, as he entered the house.
" The bird has flown, this time ; he found the opportunity favorable. "
With a contented smile, he entered his room, but his expression
changed suddenly, and his trembling lips muttered a soldier's curse.
There lay Trenck in peaceful slumber ; his handsome, youthful face
was bright and free from care, and those must be sweet dreams
which floated around him, for he smiled in his sleep.
"Poor fellow !" said Von Halber, shaking his head ; "he must be
mad, or struck with blindness, and cannot see the yawning abyss at
his feet. "
He awakened Trenck, and asked him how he had amused him-
self, during the long hours of solitude.
" I looked through all your house, and then entered the stables
and gladdened my heart by the sight of your beautiful horses. "
" Thunder and lightning ! You have then seen my horses, " cried
Halber, thoroughly provoked. " Did no wish arise in your heart to
mount one and seek your liberty ?"
Frederick Trenck smiled. "The wish, indeed, arose in my heart,
but I suppressed it manfully. Do you not see, dear Halber, that it
would be unthankful and unknightly to reward in this cowardly and
contemptible way the magnanimous confidence you have shown me. "
" Truly, you are an honorable gentleman, " cried Halber, greatly
touched ; " I had not thought of that. It would not have been well
to flee from my house. "
" To-morrow he will fly, " thought the good-natured soldier,
"when once more alone to-morrow, and the opportunity shall not
be wanting. "
Von Halber left his house early in the morning to conduct his
prisoner to Berlin. No one accompanied them ; no one but the
coachman, who sat upon the box and never looked behind him.
Their path led through a thick wood. Von Halber entertained
the prisoner as the lieutenant had done who conducted Trenck the
day he left Coslin. He called his attention to the denseness of the
forest, and spoke of the many fugitives who had concealed them-
selves there till pursuit was abandoned. He then invited Trenck to
get down and walk with him, near the carriage.
As Trenck accepted the invitation, and strolled along by his side
in careless indifference, Von Halber suddenly observed that the
ground was covered with mushrooms.
" Let us gather a few, " said he ; " the young wife of one of my
TRENCK ON HIS WAY TO PRISON. 101
friends understands bow to make a glorious dish of them, and if I
take her a large collection, she will consider it a kind attention.
Let us take our hats and handkerchiefs, and fill them. You will
take the right path into the wood, and I the left. In one hour we
will meet here again. "
Without waiting for an answer, the good Halber turned to the
left in the wood, and was lost in the thicket. In an hour he returned
to the carriage, and found Trenck smilingly awaiting him.
He turned pale, and with an expression of exasperation, he ex-
claimed :
"You have not then lost yourself in the woods?"
" I have not lost myself, " said Trenck, quietly ; " and I have
gathered a quantity of beautiful mushrooms. "
Trenck handed him his handkerchief, filled with small, round
mushrooms. Halber threw them with a sort of despair into the car-
riage, and then, without saying one word, he mounted and nodded
to Trenck to follow him.
" And now let us be off, " said he, shortly. " Coachman, drive
on!"
He leaned back in the carriage, and with frowning brow he gazed
up into the heavens.
Slowly the carriage rolled through the sand, and it seemed as if
the panting, creeping horses shrank back from reaching their goal,
the boundary-line of the Wurtembergian dragoons. Trenck had
followed his companion's example, and leaned back in the carriage.
Halber was gloomy and filled with dark forebodings. Trenck was
gay and unembarrassed ; not the slightest trace of care or mistrust
could be read in his features.
They moved onward silently. The air was fresh and pure, the
heavens clear ; but a dark cloud was round about the path of this
dazzled, blinded young officer. The birds sang of it on the green
boughs, but Trenck would not understand them. They sang of
liberty and gladness ; they called to him to follow their example,
and fly far from the haunts of men ! The dark wood echoed Fly !
fly ! in powerful organ-tones, but Trenck took them for the holy
hymns of God's peaceful, sleeping world. He heard not the trees,
as with warning voices they bowed down and murmured, Flee !
flee ! Come under our shadow, we will conceal you till the danger
be overpast ! Flee ! flee ! Misfortune, like a cruel vulture, is float-
ing over you already her fangs are extended to grasp you. The
desert winds, in wild haste rushed by and covering this poor child
of sorrow with clouds of dust, whispered in his ear, Fly ! fly ! fol-
low my example and rush madly backward ! Misfortune advances
to meet you, and a river of tears flows down the path you are blindly
102 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
following. Turn your head and flee, before this broad, deep stream
overtakes you. The creaking wheels seemed to sob out, Fly ! fly ! we
are rolling you onward to a dark and eternal prison ! Do you not
hear the clashing of chains? Do you not see the open grave at your
feet? These are your chains ! that is your grave, already prepared
for the living, glowing heart ! Fly ! then, fly ! You are yet free to
choose. The clouds which swayed on over the heavens, traced in
purple and gold the warning words, Fly ! fly ! or you look upon us
for the last time ! Upon the anxious face of Von Halber was also to
be seen, Fly now, it is high time ! I see the end of the wood ! I
see the first houses of Boslin. Fly ! then, fly ! it is high time !
Alas, Trenck's eyes were blinded, and his ears were filled with dust.
" Those whom demons will destroy, they first strike with blind-
ness. " Trenck's evil genius had blinded his eyes his destruction
was sure. There remained no hope of escape. The carriage had
reached the end of the wood and rolled now over the cJiausse to
Boslin.
But what means this great crowd before the stately house which
is decorated with the Prussian arms? What means this troop of
soldiers who with stern, frowning brows, surround the dark coach
with the closed windows?
"We are in Boslin," said Von Halber, pointing toward the group
of soldiers. " That is the post-house, and, as you see, we are ex-
pected."
For the first time Trenck was pale, and horror was written in his
face. "I am lost!" stammered he, completely overcome, and sink-
ing back into the carriage he cast a wild, despairing glance around
him, and seized the arm of Halber with a powerful hand.
" Be merciful, sir ! oh, be merciful ! Let us move more slowly.
Turn back, oh, turn back ! just to the entrance of the wood only to
the entrance of the street !"
il You see that is impossible, " said Von Halber, sadly. " We are
recognized ; if we turn back now, they will welcome us with
bullets. "
" It were far better for me to die, " murmured Trenck, " than to
enter that dark prison that open grave !"
" Alas ! you would not fly you would not understand me. I gave
you many opportunities, but you would not avail yourself of them. "
" I was mad, mad !" cried Trenck. " I had confidence in myself
I had faith in my good star but the curse of my evil genius has
overtaken me. Oh, my God ! I am lost, lost ! All my hopes were
deceptive the king is my irreconcilable enemy, and he will revenge
my past life on my future ! I have this knowledge too late. Oh,
Halber ! go slowly, slowly ; I must give you my last testament.
PRINCE HENRY AND HIS WIFE. 10 3
Mark well what I say these are the last words of a man who is more
to be pitied than the dying. It is a small service which I ask of
you, but my existence depends upon it : Go quickly to the Duke
of Wurtemberg and say this to him : ' Frederick von Trenck sends
Duke Ferdinand his last greeting ! He is a prisoner, and in death's
extremity. Will the duke take pity on him, and convey this news
to her whom he knows to be Trenck 's friend? Tell her Trenck is a
prisoner, and hopes only in her !' Will you swear to me to do this?"
" I swear it, " said Von Halber, deeply moved.
The carriage stopped. Von Halber sprang down and greeted the
officer who was to take charge of Trenck. The soldiers placed
themselves on both sides of the coach, and the door was opened.
Trenck cast a last despairing, imploring glance to heaven, then,
with a firm step, approached the open coach. In the act of enter-
ing, he turned once more to the officer Von Halber, whose friendly
eyes were darkened with tears.
"You will not forget, sir!"
These simply, sadly-spoken words, breaking the solemn, impos-
ing silence, made an impression upon the hearts of even the stern
soldiers around them.
" I will not forget, " said Von Halber, solemnly.
Trenck bowed and entered the coach. The officer followed him
and closed the door. Slowly, like a funeral procession, the coach
moved on. Von Halber gazed after him sadly.
" He is right, he is more to be pitied than the dying. I will
hasten to fulfil his last testament. "
Eight days later, the Princess Amelia received through the hands
of Pollnitz a letter from Duke Ferdinand. As she read it, she uttered
a cry of anguish, and sank insensible upon the floor. The duke's
letter contained these words :
" All my efforts were in vain ; he would not fly, would not be-
lieve in his danger. In the casemates of Magdeburg sits a poor
prisoner, whose, last words directed to me were these : ' Say to her
whom you know that I am a prisoner, and hope only in her. ' "
CHAPTER III.
PRINCE HENRY AND HIS WIFE.
PRINCE HENRY walked restlessly backward and forward in his
study ; his brow was stern, and a strange fire flamed in his eye.
He felt greatly agitated and oppressed, and scarcely knew the cause
himself. Nothing had happened to disturb his equanimity and give
104 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
occasion for his wayward mood. The outside world wore its accus-
tomed gay and festal aspect. To-day, as indeed almost every day
since the prince resided at Rheinsberg, preparations were being made
for a gay entertainment. A country fete was to be given in the
woods near the palace, and all the guests were to appear as shep-
herds and sheperdesses.
Prince Henry had withdrawn to his own room to assume the
tasteful costume which had been prepared for him ; but he seemed
to have entirely forgotten his purpose. The tailor and thefriseur
awaited him in vain in his dressing-room ; he forgot their existence.
He paced his room with rapid steps, and his tightly -compressed lips
opened from time to time to utter a few broken, disconnected words.
Of what was the prince thinking? He did not know, or he
would not confess it to himself. Perhaps he dared not look down
deep into his heart and comprehend the new feelings and new wishes
which were struggling there.
At times he stood still, and looked with a wild, rapt expression
into the heavens, as if they alone could answer the mysterious ques-
tions his soul was whispering to him ; then passed on with his hand
pressed on his brow to control or restrain the thoughts which agi-
tated him. He did not hear a light tap upon the door, he did not
see it open, and his most intimate and dearest friend, Count Kal-
kreuth enter, dressed in the full costume of a shepherd.
Count Kalkreuth stood still, and did nothing to call the attention
of the prince to his presence. He remained at the door ; his face
was also dark and troubled, and the glance which he fixed upon
Prince Henry was almost one of hatred.
The prince turned, and the count's expression changed instantly ;
he stepped gayly forward and said :
" Your royal highness sees my astonishment at finding you lost
in such deep thought, and your toilet not even commenced. I stand
like Lot's blessed wife, turned to stone upon your threshold ! Have
you forgotten, my prince, that you commanded us all to be ready
punctually at four o'clock? The castle clock is at this moment
striking four. The ladies and gentlemen will now assemble in the
music-saloon, as you directed, and you, prince, are not yet in
costume. "
" It is true, " said Prince Henry, somewhat embarrassed, " I had
forgotten ; but I will hasten to make good my fault. "
He stepped slowly, and with head bowed down, toward his dress-
ing-room ; at the door, he stood and looked back at the count.
" You are already in costume, my friend, " said he, noticing for
the first time the fantastic dress of the count. "Truly, this style
becomes you marvellously ; your bright-colored satin jacket shows
PRINCE HENRY AND HIS WIFE. 105
your fine proportions as advantageously as your captain's uniform.
But what means this scarf which you wear upon your shoulder?"
" These are the colors of my shepherdess, " said the count, with a
constrained smile.
"Who is your shepherdess?"
" Your highness asks that, when you yourself selected her !" said
Kalkreuth, astonished.
" Yes it is true ; I forgot, " said the prince. " The princess, my
wife, is your shepherdess. Well, I sincerely hope you may find her
highness more gay and gracious than she was to me this morning,
and that you may see the rare beauty of this fair rose, of which I
only feel the thorns !"
While the prince was speaking, the count became deathly pale,
and looked at him with painful distrust.
" It is true, " he replied, " the princess is cold and reserved toward
her husband. Without doubt, this is the result of a determination
to meet your wishes fully, and to remain clearly within the boun-
dary which your highness at the time of your marriage, more than
a year ago, plainly marked out for her. The princess knows, per-
haps too well, that her husband is wholly indifferent to her beauty
and her expression, and therefore feels herself at liberty to yield to
each changeful mood without ceremony in your presence. "
" You are right, " said Prince Henry, sadly, " she is wholly in-
different to me, and I have told her so. We will speak no more of
it. What, indeed, are the moods of the princess to me? I will
dress, go to the music-saloon, and ask for forgiveness in my name
for my delay. I will soon be ready ; I will seek the princess in her
apartments, and we will join you in a few moments. "
The prince bowed and left the room. Kalkreuth gazed after him
thoughtfully and anxious.
"His manner is unaccountably strange to-day," whispered he.
" Has he, perhaps, any suspicion ; and these apparently artless ques-
tions and remarks, this distraction and forgetfulness But no, no !
it is impossible ; he can know nothing no one has betrayed me. It
is the anguish of my conscience which makes me fearful ; this
suffering I must bear, it is the penalty I pay for my great happi-
ness. " The count sighed deeply and withdrew.
The prince completed his toilet, and sought the princess in her
apartment, in the other wing of the castle. With hasty steps he
passed through the corridors ; his countenance was anxious and ex-
pectant, his eyes were glowing and impatient, haste marked every
movement ; he held in his hand a costly bouquet of white camelias.
When he reached the anteroom of the princess he became pallid,
and leaned for a moment, trembling and gasping for breath, against
8
106 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the wall ; he soon, however, by a strong effort, controlled himself,
entered, and commanded the servant to announce him.
The Princess Wilhelmina received her husband with a stiff,
ceremonious courtesy, which, in its courtly etiquette, did not corre-
spond with the costume she had assumed. The proud and stately
princess was transformed into an enchanting, lovely shepherdess.
It was, indeed, difficult to decide if the princess were more beauti-
ful in her splendid court toilet, adorned with diamonds, and wear-
ing on her high, clear brow a sparkling diadem, proud and conscious
of her beauty and her triumphs ; or now, in this artistic costume,
in which she was less imposing, but more enchanting and more
gracious.
Wilhelmina wore an under- skirt of white satin, a red tunic,
gayly embroidered and festooned with white roses ; a white satin
bodice, embroidered with silver, defined her full but pliant form,
and displayed her luxurious bust in its rare proportions ; a bouquet
of red roses was fastened upon each shoulder, and held the silvery
veil which half concealed the lovely throat and bosom. The long,
black, unpowdered hair fell in graceful ringlets about her fair neck,
and formed a dark frame for the beautiful face, glowing with
health, youth, and intellect. In her hair she wore a wreath of red
and white roses, and a bouquet of the same in her bosom.
She was, indeed, dazzling in her beauty, and was, perhaps, con-
scious of her power ; her eyes sparkled, and a ravishing smile
played upon her lips as she looked up at the prince, who stood dumb
and embarrassed before her, and could find no words to express his
admiration.
" If it is agreeable to your highness, let us join your company, "
said the princess, at last, anxious to put an end to this interview.
She extended her hand coolly to her husband ; he grasped it, and
held it fast, but still stood silently looking upon her.
"Madame," said he, at last, in low and hesitating tones
" madame, I have a request to make of you. "
"Command me, my husband," said she, coldly; "what shall I
do?"
" I do not wish to command, but to entreat, " said the prince.
" Well, then, Prince Henry, speak your request. "
The prince gave the bouquet of white camelias to his wife, and
said, in a faltering, pleading voice, " I beg you to accept this bou-
quet from me, and to wear it to-day in your bosom, although it is
not your shepherd who offers it !"
" No, not my shepherd, but my husband, " said the princess, re-
moving angrily the bouquet of roses from her bodice. " I must, of
course, wear the flowers he gives me. "
PRINCE HENRY AND HIS WIFE. 107
Without giving one glance at the flowers, she fastened them in
her bosom.
"If you will not look upon them for my sake," said the prince,
earnestly, "I pray you, give them one glance for the flowers' sake.
You will at least feel assured that no other shepherdess is adorned
with such a bouquet. "
" Yes, " said Wilhelmina, " these are not white roses ; indeed,
they seem to be artificial flowers ; their leaves are hard and thick
like alabaster, and dazzlingly white like snow. What flowers are
these, my prince?"
"They are camelias. I recently heard you speak of these rare
flowers, which had just been imported to Europe. I hoped to please
you by placing them in your hands. "
" Certainly ; but I did not know that these new exotics were
blooming in our land. "
"And they are not," said Prince Henry. "This bouquet comes
from Schwetzingen ; there, only, in Germany, in the celebrated
green-houses of the Margravine of Baden can they be seen. "
"How, then, did you get them?" said the princess, astonished.
" I sent a courier to Schwetzingen ; the blossoms were wrapped in
moist, green moss, and are so well preserved, that they look as fresh
as when they were gathered six days since. "
"And you sent for them for me?" said Wilhelmina.
"Did you not express a wish to see them?" replied the prince;
and his glance rested upon her with such ardent passion that, blush-
ing, she cast her eyes to the ground, and stood still and ashamed
before him.
" And you have not one little word of thanks ?" said the prince,
after a long pause. " Will you not fasten these pure flowers on your
bosom, and allow them to die a happy death there ? Alas ! you are
hard and cruel with me, princess ; it seems to me that your husband
dare claim from you more of kindliness and friendship. "
" My husband !" cried she, in a mocking tone. She turned her
eyes, searchingly, in every direction around the room. " It appears
to me that we are alone and wholly unobserved, and that it is here
unnecessary for u-i to play this comedy and call ourselves by those
names which we adopted to deceive the world, and which you taught
me to regard as empty titles. It is, indeed, possible that a wife
should be more friendly and affectionate to her husband ; but I do
not believe that a lady dare give more encouragement to a cavalier
than I manifest to your royal highness. "
" You are more friendly to all the world than to me, Wilhelmina, "
said the prince, angrily. " You have a kindly word, a magic glance,
a gracious reception for all others who approach you. To me alone
108 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
are you cold and stern ; your countenance darkens as soon as I draw
near ; the smile vanishes from your lips ; your brow is clouded and
your eyes are fixed upon me with almost an expression of contempt.
I see, madame, that you hate me ! Well, then, hate me ; but I do
not deserve your contempt, and I will not endure it ! It is enough
that you martyr me to death with your cutting coldness, your crush-
ing indifference. The world, at least, should not know that you
hate me, and I will not be publicly humiliated by you. What did
I do this morning, for example? Why were you so cold and scorn-
ful ? Wherefore did you check your gay laugh as I entered the room ?
wherefore did you refuse me the little flower you held in your hand,
and then throw it carelessly upon the floor?"
The princess looked at him with flashing eyes.
" You ask many questions, sir, and on many points, " said she,
sharply. " I do not think it necessary to reply to them. Let us join
our company." She bowed proudly and advanced, but the prince
held her back.
" Do not go, " said he, entreatingly, " do not go. Say first that
you pardon me, that you are no longer angry. Oh, Wilhelmina,
you do not know what I suffer ; you can never know the anguish
which tortues my soul. "
" I know it well ; on the day of our marriage your highness ex-
plained all. It was not necessary to return to this bitter subject.
I have not forgotten one word spoken on that festive occasion. "
"What do you mean, Wilhelmina? How could I, on our wed-
ding-day, have made known to you the tortures which I now suffer ;
from which I was then wholly free, and in whose possibility I did
not believe?"
" It is possible that your sufferings have become more intolera-
ble, " said the princess, coldly ; " but you confided them to me fully
and frankly at that time. It was, indeed, the only time since our
marriage we had any thing to confide. Our only secret is, that we
do not love and never can love each other ; that only in the eyes of
the world are we married. There is no union of hearts. "
" Oh, princess, your words are death !" And completely overcome,
he sank upon a chair.
Wilhelmina looked at him coldly, without one trace of emotion.
"Death?" said she, "why should I slay you? We murder only
those whom we love or hate. I neither love nor hate you. "
"You are only, then, entirely indifferent to me," asked the
prince.
"I think, your highness, this is what you asked of me, on our
wedding-day. I have endeavored to meet your wishes, and thereby,
at least, to prove to you that I had the virtue of obedience. Oh, I
PRINCE HENRY AND HIS WIFE. 109
can never forget that hour, " cried the princess. " I came a stranger,
alone, ill from home-sickness and anguish of heart, to Berlin. I
was betrothed according to the fate of princesses. I was not con-
sulted ! I did not know I had never seen the man to whom I must
swear eternal love and faith. This was also your sad fate, my
prince. We had never met. We saw each other for the first time
as we stood before God's altar, and exchanged our vows to the sound
of merry wedding-bells, and the roar of cannon. I am always
thinking that the bells ring and the cannon thunders at royal mar-
riages, to drown the timid, trembling yes, forced from pallid, un-
willing lips, which rings in the ears of God and men like a discord
like the snap of a harp-string. The bells chimed melodiously.
No man heard the yes at which our poor hearts rebelled ! We alone
heard and understood ! You were noble, prince ; you had been
forced to swear a falsehood before the altar ; but in the evening,
when we were alone in our apartment, you told me the frank and
honest truth. State policy united us ; we did not and could never
love each other ! You were amiable enough to ask me to be your
friend your sister; and to give me an immediate proof of a
brother's confidence, you confessed to me that, with all the ardor
and ecstasy of your youthful heart, you had loved a woman who
betrayed you, and thus extinguished forever all power to love. I,
my prince, could not follow your frank example, and give a like
confidence. I had nothing to relate. I had not loved ! I loved you
not ! I was therefore grateful when you asked no love from me.
You only asked that, with calm indifference, we should remain side
by side, and greet each other, before the world, with the empty
titles of wife and husband. I accepted this proposal joyfully, to
remain an object of absolute indifference to you, and to regard you
in the same light. I cannot, therefore, comprehend why you now
reproach me."
" Yes ! yes ! I said and did all that, " said Prince Henry, pale and
trembling with emotion. " I was a madman ! More than that, I
was a blasphemer! Love is as God holy, invisible, and eternal;
and he who does not believe in her immortality, her omnipresence,
is like the heathen, who has faith only in his gods of wood and
stone, and whose dull eyes cannot behold the invisible glory of the
Godhead. My heart had at that time received its first wound, and
because it bled and pained me fearfully, I believed it to be dead,
and I covered it up with bitter and cruel remembrances, as in an
iron coffin, from which all escape was impossible. An angel drew
near, and laid her soft, fine hand upon my coffin ; my wounds were
healed, my youth revived, and I dared hope in happiness and a
future. At first, I would not confess this to myself. At first, I
110 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
thought to smother this new birth of my heart in the mourning veil
of my past experience ; but my heart was like a giant in his first
manhood, and cast off all restraint ; like Hercules in his cradle, he
strangled the serpents which were hissing around him. It was in-
deed a painful happiness to know that I had again a heart , that I
was capable of feeling the rapture and the pain, the longing, the
hopes and fears, the enthusiasm and exaltation, the doubt and the
despair which make the passion of love, and I have to thank you,
Wilhelmina you alone, you, my wife, for this new birth. You
turn away your head, Wilhelmina ! You smile derisively ! It is
true I have not the right to call you my wife. You are free to spurn
me from you, to banish me forever into that cold, desert region to
which I fled in the madness and blindness of my despair. But think
well, princess ; if you do this, you cast a shadow over my life. It
is my whole future which I lay at your feet, a future for which fate
perhaps intends great duties and greater deeds. I cannot fulfil
these duties, I can perform no heroic deed, unless you, princess,
grant me the blessing of happiness. I shall be a silent, unknown,
and useless prince, the sad and pitiful hanger-on of a throne, de-
spised and unloved, a burden only to my people, unless you give
freedom and strength to my sick soul, which lies a prisoner at
your feet. Wilhelmina, put an end to the tortures of the last few
months, release me from the curse which binds my whole life in
chains ; speak but one word, and I shall have strength to govern the
world, and prove to you that I am worthy of you. I will force the
stars from heaven, and place them as a diadem upon your brow.
Say only that you will try to love me, and I will thank you for hap-
piness and fame."
Prince Henry was so filled with his passion and enthusiasm, that
he did not remark the deadly pallor of Wilhelmina's face that he
did not see the look of anguish and horror with which her eyes
rested for one moment upon him, then shrank blushingly and
ashamed upon the floor. He seized her cold, nerveless hands, and
pressed them to his heart ; she submitted quietly. She seemed
turned to stone.
" Be merciful, Wilhelmina ; say that you forgive me that you
will tiy to love me. "
The princess shuddered, and glanced up at him. "I must say
that," murmured she, "and you have not once said that you love
me."
The prince shouted with rapture, and, falling upon his knees,
he exclaimed, " I love you ! I adore you ! I want nothing, will accept
nothing, but you alone ; you are my love, my hope, my future.
Wilhelmina, if you do not intend me to die at your feet, say that
THE FETE IN THE WOODS. Ill
yon do not spurn me open your arms and clasp me to your
heart. "
The princess stood immovable for a moment, trembling and
swaying from side to side ; her lips opened as if to utter a wild,
mad cry pain was written on every feature. The prince saw noth-
ing of this his lips were pressed upon her hand, and he did not look
up he did not see his wife press her pale lips tightly together to
force back her cries of despair he did not see that her eyes were
raised in unspeakable agony to heaven.
The battle was over ; the princess bowed over her husband, and
her hands softly raised him from his knees. " Stand up, prince I
dare not see you lying at my feet. You have a right to my love
you are my husband. "
Prince Henry clasped her closely, passionately in his arms.
CHAPTER IV.
THE FETE IN THE WOODS.
No fete was ever brighter and gayer than that of Rheinsberg.
It is true, the courtly circle waited a long time before the beginning
of their merry sports. Hours passed before the princely pair joined
their guests in the music-saloon.
The sun of royalty came at last, shedding light and gladness.
Never had the princess looked more beautiful more rosy. She
seemed, indeed, to blush at the consciousness of her own attrac-
tions. Never had Prince Henry appeared so happy, so triumphant,
as to-day. His flashing eyes seemed to challenge the whole world
to compete with his happiness ; joy and hope danced in his eyes ;
never had he given so gracious, so kindly a greeting to every guest,
as to-day.
The whole assembly was bright and animated, and gave them-
selves up heartily to the beautiful idyl for which they had met to-
gether under the shadow of the noble trees in the fragrant woods of
Rheinsberg. No gayer, lovelier shepherds and shepherdesses were
ever seen in Arcadia, than those of Rheinsberg to-day. They
laughed, and jested, and performed little comedies, and rejoiced in
the innocent sports of the happy moment. Here wandered a shep-
herd and his shepherdess, chatting merrily ; there, under the shadow
of a mighty oak, lay a forlorn shepherd singing, accompanied by his
zitter, a love-lorn ditty to his cruel shepherdess, who was leading
two white lambs decked with ribbons, in a meadow near by, and
replied to his tender pleading with mocking irony. Upon the little
112 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
lake, in the neighborhood of which they had assembled, the snow-
white swans swam majestically to and fro. The lovely shepherdesses
stood upon the borders and enticed the swans around them, and
laughed derisively at the shepherds who had embarked in the little
boats, and were now driven sportively back in every direction, and
could find no place to land.
Prince Henry loved this sort of fite, and often gave such at
Rheinsberg, but never had he seemed to enjoy himself so thoroughly
as to-day. His guests generally sympathized in his happiness, but
there was one who looked upon his joyous face with bitterness.
This was Louise du Trouffle, once Louise von Kleist, once the be-
loved of the prince.
She was married, and her handsome, amiable, and intelligent
husband was ever by her side ; but the old wounds still burned, and
her pride bled at the contempt of the prince. She knew he was
ignorant of the great sacrifice she had been forced to make that he
despised, in place of admiring and pitying her.
The prince, in order to show his utter indifference, had invited
her husband and herself to court. In the pride of his sick and
wounded heart, he resolved to convince the world that the beautiful
Louise von Kleist had not scorned and rejected his love. In her
presence he resolved to show his young wife the most lover-like
attentions, and prove to his false mistress that he neither sought nor
fled from her that he had utterly forgotten her.
But Louise was not deceived by this acting. She understood
him thoroughly, and knew better than the prince himself, that his
indifference was assumed, and his contempt and scorn was a veil
thrown over his betrayed and quivering heart to conceal his suffer-
ings from her. Louise had the courage to accept Prince Henry's
invitations, and to take part in all the festivities with which he
ostentatiously celebrated his happiness. She had the courage to
receive his cutting coldness, his cruel sarcasm, his contempt, with
calm composure and sweet submission. With the smile of a stoic,
she offered her defenceless breast to his poisoned arrows, and even
the tortures she endured were precious in her sight. She was con-
vinced that the prince had not relinquished or forgotten her that
his indifference and contempt was assumed to hide his living,
breathing love. For some time past the change in the manners and
bearing of the prince had not escaped the sharp, searching glance of
the experienced coquette. For a long time he appeared not to see
her now she felt that he did not see her. He had been wont to say
the most indifferent things to her in a fierce, excited tone now he
was self-possessed, and spoke to her softly and kindly.
"The wound has healed, " said Louise du Trouffle to herself. " He
THE FETE IN THE WOODS. 113
no longer scorns because he no longer loves me. " But she did not
know that he had not only ceased to love her, but loved another
passionately. This suspicion was excited, however, for the first
time to-day. In the flashing eye, the glad smile, the proud glance
which he fixed upon his fair young wife, Louise discovered that
Henry had buried the old love and a new one had risen from its
ashes. This knowledge tortured her heart in a wild storm of jealousy.
She forgot all considerations of prudence, all fear, even of the king.
She had been compelled to relinquish the hand of the prince, but
she would not lose him wholly. Perhaps he would return to her
when he knew what a fearful offering she had made to him. He
would recognize her innocence, and mourn over the tortures he had
inflicted during the last year. She would try this ! She would
play her last trump, and dare all with the hope of winning.
There stood the prince under the shadow of a large tree, gazing
dreamily at his wife, who, with other shepherdesses, and her shep-
herd, Count Kalkreuth, was feeding the swans on the border of the
lake. The prince was alone, and Louise rashly resolved to approach
him. He greeted her with a slight nod, and turning his eyes again
upon his wife, he said, carelessly, "Are you also here, Madame du
Trouffle?"
" Your royal highness did me the honor to invite me I am accus-
tomed to obey your wishes, and I am here. "
"That is kind," said the prince, abstractedly, still glancing at
the princess.
Louise sighed deeply, and stepping nearer, she said, "Are you
still angry with me, my prince? Have you never forgiven me?"
"What?" said the prince, quietly; "I do not remember that I
have any thing to forgive. "
" Ah, I see ! you despise me still, " said Louise, excitedly ; " but
I will bear this no longer ! I will no longer creep about like a cul-
prit, burdened with your curse and your scorn. You shall at least
know what it cost me to earn your contempt what a fearful sacri-
fice I was compelled to make to secure your supposed personal hap-
piness. I gave up for you the happiness of my life, but I can and
will no longer fill a place of shame in your memory. If, from time
to time, your highness thinks of me, you shall do me justice !"
" I think no longer of you in anger, " said the prince, smiling.
"That sorrow has long since passed away. "
"From your heart, prince, but not from mine ! My heart bleeds,
and will bleed eternally ! You must not only forgive you must
do me justice. Listen, then ; and so truly as there is a God above
us, I will speak the tuth. I did not betray you I was not faithless.
My heart and my soul I laid gladly at your feet, and thanked Ged
114 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
for the fulness of nay happiness. My thoughts, my existence, my
future, was chained to you. I had no other will, no other wish, IK
other hope. I was your slave I wanted nothing but your love. "
" Ah, and then came this Monsieur du Trouffle, and broke your
fetters gave your heart liberty and wings for a new flight, " said
Prince Henry.
" No, then came the king and commanded me to give you up, "
murmured Louise ; " then came the king, and forced me to offer up
myself and my great love to your future welfare. Oh, my prince !
recall that terrible hour in which we separated. I said to you that
I had betrothed myself to Captain du Trouffle that of my own free
choice, and influenced by love alone, I gave myself to him. "
" I remember that hour. "
"Well, then, in that hour we were not alone. The king was
concealed behind the portiere, and listened to my words. He dic-
tated them ! he threatened me with destruction if I betrayed his
presence by look or word ; if I gave you reason to suspect that I did
not, of my own choice and lovingly, give myself to this unloved,
yes, this hated man ! I yielded only after the most fearful contest
with the king, to whom, upon my knees and bathed in tears, I
pleaded for pity. "
" What means could the king use, what threats could he utter,
which forced you to such a step?" said the prince, incredulously.
"Did he threaten you with death if you did not obey? When one
truly loves, death has no terrors ! Did he say he would murder me
if you did not release me? You knew I had a strong arm and a
stronger will ; you should have trusted both. You placed your fate
in my hands ; you should have obeyed no other commands than
mine. And now shall I speak the whole truth? I do not believe in
this sacrifice on your part ; it would have required more than mortal
strength, and it would have been cruel in the extreme. You saw
what I suffered. My heart was torn with anguish ! No, madame,
no ; you did not make this sacrifice, or, if you did, you loved me
not. If you had loved me, you could not have seen me suffer so
cruelly ; you would have told the truth, even in the presence of the
king. No earthly power can control true love ; she is self-sustained
and makes her own laws. No ! no ! I do not believe in this offering ;
and you make this excuse either to heal my sick heart, or because
your pride is mortified at my want of consideration ; you wish to
recover my good opinion. "
" Alas ! alas ! he does not believe me, " cried Louise.
"No, I do not believe you," said the prince, kindly; "and yet
you must not think that I am still angry. I not only forgive, but I
thank you. It is to you, indeed, Louise, that I owe my present
THE FETE IN THE WOODS. 115
happiness, all those noble and pure joys which a true love bestows.
I thank you for this you and the king. It was wise in the king to
deny me that which I then thought essential to my happiness, but
which would, at last, have brought us both to shame and to despair.
The love, which must shun the light of day and hide itself in ob-
scurity, pales, and withers, and dies. Happy love must have the
sunlight of heaven and God's blessing upon it ! All this failed in
our case, and it was a blessing for us both that you saw it clearly,
and resigned a doubtful happiness at my side for surer peace with
Monsieur du Trouffle. From my soul I thank you, Louise. See
what a costly treasure has bloomed for me from the grave of my be-
trayed love. Look at that lovely young woman who, although dis-
guised as a shepherdess, stands out in the midst of all other women,
an imperial queen ! a queen of beauty, grace, and fascination ! This
charming, innocent, and modest young woman belongs to me ; she
is my wife ; and I have your inconstancy to thank you for this rare
gem. Oh, madame, I have indeed reason to forgive you for the
past, to be grateful to you as long as I live. But for you I should
never have married the Princess Wilhelmina. What no menaces,
no entreaties, no commands of the king could accomplish, your
faithlessness effected. I married ! God, in his goodness, chose you
to be a mediator between me and my fate ; it was His will that,
from your hand, I should receive my life's blessing. You cured me
of a wandering and unworthy passion, that I might feel the truth
and enjoy the blessing of a pure love, and a love which now fills my
heart and soul, my thoughts, my existence for my darling wife. "
" Ah, you are very cruel, " said Lousie, scarcely able to suppress
her tears of rage.
"I am only true, madame," said the prince, smiling. "You
wished to know of me if I were still angry with you, and I reply
that I have not only forgiven, but I bless your inconstancy. And
now, I pray you let us end this conversation, which I will never
renew. Let the past die and be buried ! We have both of us com-
menced a new life under the sunshine of a new love ; we will not
allow any cloud of remembrances to cast a shadow upon it. Look,
the beautiful shepherdesses are seeking flowers in the meadows, and
my wife stands alone upon the borders of the lake. Allow me to
join her, if only to see if the clear waters of the lake reflect back her
image as lovely and enchanting as the reality. "
The prince bowed, and with hasty steps took the path that led to
the lake.
Louise looked at him scornfully. " He despises me and he loves
her fondly ; but she does the princess love him ? not so ! her glance
is cold, icy. when she looks upon him ; and to-day I saw her turn
116 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
pale as the prince approached her. No, she loves him not ; but who
then who? she is young, ardent, and, it appears to me, impressi-
ble ; she cannot live without love. I will find out ; a day will come
when I will take vengeance for this hour. I await that day !"
While Louise forced herself to appear gay, in order to meet her
husband without embarrassment, and the prince walked hastily on-
ward, the princess stood separated from her ladies, on the borders of
the lake, with the Count Kalkreuth at her side. The count had been
appointed her cavalier for the day, by the prince her husband ; she
seemed to give her undivided attention to the swans, who were
floating before her, and stretching out their graceful necks to receive
food from her hands. As she bowed down to feed the swans, she
whispered lightly, " Listen, count, to what I have to say to you. If
possible, laugh merrily, that my ladies may hear ; let your counte-
nance be gay, for I see the prince approaching. In ten minutes he
will be with us ; do you understand my low tones ?"
" I understand you, princess ; alas ! I fear I understand without
words ; I have read my sentence in the eyes of your husband. The
prince suspects me. "
" No, " said she, sadly bowing down and plucking a few violets,
which she threw to the swans ; " he has no suspicion, but he loves
me."
The count sprang back as if wounded. " He loves you !" he cried,
in a loud, almost threatening tone.
'* For pity 's sake speak low, " said the princess. " Look, the ladies
turn toward us, and are listening curiously, and you have frightened
the swans from the shore. Laugh, I pray you ; speak a few loud
and jesting words, count, I implore you. "
" I cannot, " said the count. " Command me to throw myself into
the lake and I will obey you joyfully, and in dying I will call your
name and bless it ; but do not ask me to smile when you tell me that
the prince loves you. "
"Yes, he loves me; he confessed it to-day," said the princess,
shuddering. " Oh, it was a moment of inexpressible horror ; a mo-
ment in which that became a sin which, until then, had been pure
and innocent. So long as my husband did not love me, or ask my
love, I was free to bestow it where I would and when I would ;
so soon as he loves me, and demands my love, I am a culprit if I
refuse it. "
" And I false to my friend, " murmured Kalkreuth.
" We must instantly separate, " whispered she. " We must bury
our love out of our sight, which until now has lived purely and
modestly in our hearts, and this must be its funeral procession.
You see I have already begun to deck the grave with flowers, and
THE FETE IN THE WOODS. 117
that tears are consecrating them." She pointed with her jewelled
hand to the bouquet of white camelias which adorned her bosom.
" It was cruel not to wear my flowers, " said the count. " Was it
not enough to crush me? must you also trample my poor flowers,
consecrated with my kisses and my whispers, under your feet?"
" The red roses which you gave me, " said she, lightly, " I will
keep as a remembrance of the beautiful and glorious dream which
the rude reality of life has dissipated. These camelias are superb,
but without fragrance, and colorless as my sad features. I must
wear them, for my husband gave them to me, and in so doing I
decorate the grave of my love. Farewell ! hereafter I will live for
my duties ; as I cannot accept your love, I will merit your highest
respect. Farewell, and if from this time onward we are cold and
strange, never forget that our souls belong to each other, and when
I dare no longer think of the past, I will pray for you. "
"You never loved me, " whispered the count, with pallid, trem-
bling lips, " or you could not give me up so rashly ; you would not
have the cruel courage to spurn me from you. You are weary of
me, and since the prince loves you, you despise the poor humble
heart which laid itself at your feet. Yes, yes, I cannot compete
with this man, who is a prince and the brother of a king ; who "
" Who is my husband, " cried she, proudly, " and who, while he
loves me, dares ask that I shall accept his love. "
"Ah, now you are angry with me," stammered the count;
"you"
"Hush !" whispered she, "do you not see the prince? Do laugh !
Bow down and give the swans these flowers !"
The count took the flowers, and as he gave them to the swans, he
whispered :
" Give me at least a sign that you are not angry, and that you do
not love the prince. Throw this hated bouquet, which has taken
the place of mine, into the water ; it is like a poisoned arrow in my
heart."
" Hush !" whispered the princess. She turned and gave the prince
a friendly welcome.
Prince Henry was so happy in her presence, and so dazzled by
her beauty, that he did not remark the melancholy of the count,
and spoke with him gayly and jestingly, while the count mastered
himself, and replied in the same spirit.
The princess bowed down to the swans, whom she enticed once
more with caresses to the borders of the lake. Suddenly she uttered
a loud cry, and called to the two gentlemen for help. The great
white swan had torn the camelias from the bosom of the princess,
and sailed off proudly upon the clear waters of the lake.
118 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
CHAPTER V.
INTRIGUES.
WHILE Prince Henry celebrated Arcadian ftea at Rheinsberg,
and gave himself up to love and joy, King Frederick lived in phil-
osophic retirement at Sans-Souci. He came to Berlin only to visit
the queen-mother, now dangerously ill, or to attend the meetings of
his cabinet ministers. Never had the king lived so quietly, never
had he received so few guests at Sans-Souci, and, above all, never
had the world so little cause to speak of the King of Prussia. He
appeared content with the laurels which the two Silesian wars had
placed upon his heroic brow, and he only indulged the wish that
Europe, exhausted by her long and varied wars, would allow him
that rest and peace which the world at large seemed to enjoy.
Those who were honored with invitations to Sans-Souci, and had
opportunities to see the king, could only speak of that earthly para-
dise ; of the peaceful stillness which reigned there, and which was
reflected in every countenance; of Frederick's calm cheerfulness
and innocent enjoyment.
" The king thinks no more of politics, " said the frolicsome Ber-
liners ; "he is absorbed in the arts and sciences, and. above all other
things, he lives to promote the peaceful prosperity of his people. "
The balance of power and foreign relations troubled him no
longer ; he wished for no conquests, and thought not of war. In
the morning he was occupied with scientific works, wrote in his
"Histoire de mon Temps," or to his friends, and took part in the
daily-recurring duties of the government. The remainder of the
day was passed in the garden of Sans-Souci, in pleasant walks and
animated conversation, closing always with music. Concerts took
place every evening in the apartments of the king, in which he
took part, and he practised difficult pieces of his own or Quantz's
composition, under Quantz's direction. From time to time he was
much occupied with his picture-gallery, and sent Gotzkowsky to
Italy to purchase the paintings of the celebrated masters.
King Frederick appeared to have reached his goal ; at least, that
which, during the storm of war, he had often called his ideal ; he
could devote his life to philosophy and art in the enchanting retire-
ment of his beloved Sans-Souci. The tumult and discord of the
world did not trouble him ; in fact, the whole world seemed to be at
peace, and all Europe was glad and happy.
Maria Theresa was completely bound by the last peace contract
at Dresden ; besides, the two Silesian wars had weakened and im-
INTRIGUES. 119
poverished Austria, and time was necessary to heal her wounds be-
fore she dared make a n.ew attempt to reconquer the noble jewel of
Silesia, which Frederick had torn from her crown. Notwithstand-
ing her pious and Christian pretensions, she hated Frederick with
her whole heart.
England had allied herself with Russia. France was at the
moment too much occupied with the pageants which the lovely
Marquise de Pompadour celebrated at Versailles, not to be in peace
ana harmony with all the world ; yes, even with her natural enemy.
Austria. Count Kaunitz, her ambassador at Paris, had, by his wise
ana adroit conduct, banished the cloud of mistrust which had so
long lowered between these two powers.
This was the state of things at the close of the year 1775. Then
was the general quiet interrupted by the distant echo of a cannon.
Europe was startled, and rose up from her comfortable siesta to
listen and inquire after the cause of this significant thunderbolt.
This roar of cannon, whose echo only had been heard, had its
birth far, far away in America. The cannon, however, had been
nred by a European power by England, always distinguished for
ner calculating selfishness, which she wished the world to consider
praiseworthy and honorable policy. England considered her mer-
cantile interests in America endangered by France, and she thirsted
with desire to have not only an East India but a West India com-
pany. The French colonies in America had long excited the envy
and covetousness of England, and as a sxifncient cause for war had
utterly failed, she was bold enough to take the initiative without
excuse !
In the midst of a general peace, and without any declaration of
Tvar, she seized upon a country lying on the borders of the Ohio
River, and belonging to French Canada, made an attack upon some
hundred merchant-ships, which were navigating the Ohio, under
the protection of the ships-of-war, and took them as prizes.*
That was the cannon-shot which roused all Europe from her
comfortable slumber and dreamy rest.
The Empress of Austria began to make warlike preparations in
Bohemia, and to assemble her troops on the borders of Saxony and
Bohemia. The Empress of Russia discontinued instantaneously her
luxurious feasts and wild orgies, armed her soldiers, and placed
them on the borders of Courland. She formed an immediate alii
ance with England, by which she bound herself to protect the terri-
tory of George II. in Germany, if attacked by France, in retaliation
for the French merchant-ships taken by England on the Ohio River.
Hanover, however, was excepted, as Frederick of Prussia might
* " Characteristics of the Important Events of the Seven Years' War," by Retsou
120 FREDERICK THE GPEAT AND HIS FAMILY.
possibly give her his aid. For this promised aid, Russia received
from England the sum of 150,000 sterling, which was truly wel-
come to the powerful Bestuchef , from the extravagant and pomp-
loving minister of the queen.
Saxony also prepared for war, and placed her army on the bor-
ders of Prussia, for which she received a subsidy from Austria.
This was as gladly welcomed by Count Briihl, the luxurious minis-
ter of King Augustus the Third of Poland and Saxony, as the English
subsidy was by Bestuchef.
The King of France appeared to stand alone ; even as completely
alone as Frederick of Prussia. Every eye therefore was naturally
fixed upon these two powers, who seemed thus forced by fate to
extend the hand of fellowship to each other, and form such an
alliance as England had done with Russia, and Austria with
Saxony.
This contract between Prussia and France would have been the
signal for a general war, for which all the powers of Europe were
now arming themselves. But France did not extend her hand soon
enough to obtain the friendship of Prussia. France distrusted
Prussia, even as Austria, England, Russia, and Saxony distrusted
and feared the adroit young adventurer, who in the last fifty years
had placed himself firmly amongst the great powers of Europe, and
was bold, brave, and wise enough to hold a powerful and self-sus-
tained position in their circle.
France that is to say, Louis the Fifteenth France that is to
say, the Marquise de Pompadour, hated the King of Prussia man-
fully. By his bold wit he had often brought the French court and
its immoralities into ridicule and contempt.
Austria and her minister Kaunitz and Maria Theresa hated
Frederick of Prussia, because of his conquest of Silesia.
Russia that is to say, Elizabeth and Bestuchef hated the King
of Prussia for the same reason with France. Frederick's cutting
wit had scourged the manners of the Russian court, as it had humili-
ated and exposed the court of France.
Saxony that is to say, Augustus the Third, and his minister,
Count Bruhl hated Frederick from instinct, from envy, from
resentment. This insignificant and small neighbor had spread her
wings and made so bold a flight, that Saxony was completely over-
shadowed.
England hated no one, but she feared Prussia and France, and
this fear led her to master the old-rooted national hatred to Russia,
and form an alliance with her for mutual protection. But the Eng-
lish people did not share the fears of their king ; they murmured
over this Russian ally, and this discontent, which found expression
INTRIGUES. 121
in Parliament, rang so loudly, that Frederick might well have
heard it, and formed his own conclusions as to the result.
But did he hear it? Was the sound of his flute so loud? Was
his study hermetically sealed, so that no echo from the outside
world could reach his ears?
There was no interruption to his quiet, peaceful life ; he hated
nobody, made no warlike preparations ; his soldiers exercised no
more than formerly. Truly they exercised ; and at the first call to
battle, 150, 000 men would be under arms.
But Frederick seemed not inclined to give this call ; not inclined
to exchange the calm pleasures of Sans-Souci for the rude noises of
tents and battle-fields. He seemed to be in peaceful harmony with
all nations. He was particularly friendly and conciliating toward
the Austrian embassy ; and not only was the ambassador, Count
Peubla invited often to the royal table, but his secretary, Baron
Weingarten, came also to Potsdam and Sans-Souci. The king ap-
peared attached to him, and encouraged him to come often, to walk
in the royal gardens.
Frederick was gracious and kind toward the officials of all the
German powers. On one occasion, when the wife of Councillor
Reichart, attached to the Saxon embassy, was confined, at Frederick's
earnest wish, his private secretary, Eichel, stood as god-father to
the child.*
In order to promote good feeling in Saxony, the king sent Count
Mattzahn, one of the most eloquent cavaliers of the day, to the
Dresden court ; and so well supplied was he, that he dared compete
in pomp and splendor with Count Bruhl.
Frederick appeared to attach special importance to the friendship
of Saxony, and with none of his foreign ambassadors was he engaged
in so active a correspondence as with Mattzahn. It was said that
these letters were of a harmless and innocent nature, relating wholly
to paintings, which the count was to purchase from the Saxon gal-
leries, or to music, which Frederick wished to obtain from amongst
the collection of the dead Hesse, or to an Italian singer Frederick
wished to entice to Berlin.
The world no longer favored Frederick's retirement. The less
disposed he was to mingle in politics, the more Maria Theresa,
Elizabeth of Russia, Augustus of Saxony, and the Marquise de
Pompadour agitated the subject.
France had not forgotten that the contract between herself and
Prussia was about to expire. She knew also that the subsidy money
between England and Russia had not yet been voted by Parliament.
It was therefore possible to reap some advantages from this point.
* ' Characteristics of the Important Events of the Seven Years 1 War. "
9
122 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
With this view, France sent the Duke de Nivernois as special am-
bassador to Berlin, to treat with the king as to the renewal of the
old alliance.
The Duke de Nivernois came with a glittering suite to Berlin,
and was received at the Prussian court with all the consideration
which his rank and official character demanded. The grand master
of ceremonies, Baron von Pollnitz, was sent forward to meet him,
and to invite him, in the name of the king, to occupy one of the
royal palaces in Berlin.
Every room of the palace was splendidly decorated for the recep-
tion of the duke, and as soon as he arrived, two guards were placed
before the house a mark of consideration which the king had only
heretofore given to reigning princes.
The duke accepted these distinguished attentions with lively
gratitude, and pleaded for an immediate audience, in order to pre-
sent his credentials.
Pollnitz was commissioned to make all necessary arrangements,
and agree with the duke as to the day and hour of the ceremony.
The king, who wished to give the French duke a proof of his
consideration, intended that the presentation should be as imposing
as possible, and all Berlin was to be witness of the friendship exist-
ing between the French and Prussian courts.
Upon the appointed day, a dazzling assemblage of equipages
stood before the palace of the Duke de Nivernois. These were the
royal festal carriages, intended for the members of the French em-
bassy. Then followed a long line of carriages, occupied by the dis-
tinguished members of the Prussian court. Slowly and solemnly
this pompous procession moved through the streets, and was received
at the portal of the king's palace by the royal guard. Richly-dressed
pages, in advance of whom stood the grand master of ceremonies
with his golden staf conducted the French ambassador to the
White saloon, where the king, in all his royal pomp, and sur-
rounded by the princes of his house, received him.
The solemn ceremony began ; the duke drew near the throne,
and, bowing his knee, handed his credentials to the king, who
received them with a gracious smile.
The duke commenced his address ; it was filled with flowery
phrases, suited to the great occasion. Frederick listened with the
most earnest attention, and his reply was kind, but dignified and
laconic.
The public ceremony was over, and now came the important part
of the audience, the confidential conversation. To this point the
duke had looked with lively impatience ; for this, indeed, had he
been sent to Berlin.
INTRIGUES. 123
The king descended from the throne, and laying aside all the
solemnity of court etiquette, he approached the duke in the most
gracious and genial manner, welcomed him heartily, and expressed
his sincere delight at his arrival.
" Ah, sire, " said the duke, with animation, how happy will my
king be to learn that his ambassador has been so graciously received
by your majesty !"
The king smiled. " I thought the ceremony was all over, " saict
he, " and that I no longer spoke with the ambassador, but with the
Duke de Nivernois, whom I know and love, and whose intellectual
conversation will afford me a rare pleasure. Let us, therefore, chat
together innocently, and forget the stiff ceremonies with which, I
think, we have both been sufficiently burdened to-day. Tell me
something of Paris, monsieur, of that lovely, enchanting, but over-
bold coquette, Paris, whom the world adores while it ridicules, and
imitates while it blames."
" Ah, sire, if I must speak of Paris, I must first tell you of my
king of my king, who wishes nothing more ardently than the re-
newal of the bond of friendship between your majesty and himself,
and the assurance of its long continuance ; who "
" That is most kind of his majesty, " said Frederick, interrupting
him, "and I certainly share the friendly wishes of my exalted
brother of France. But tell me now something of your learned
men ; how goes it with the Academy? do they still refuse Voltaire
a seat, while so many unknown men have become academicians?"
"Yes, sire ; these academicians are obstinate in their conclusions ;
and, as the Academy is a sort of republic, the king has no power to
control them. If that were not so, my exalted master, King Louis,
in order to be agreeable to your majesty, would exert all his influ-
ence, and "
"Ah, sir," interrupted the king, "it is just and beautiful that the
Academy is a free republic, which will not yield to the power and
influence of the king. Art and science need for their blossom and
growth freedom of thought and speech. Fate ordained that I should
be born a king ; but when alone in my study, alone with my books,
I am fully content to be republican in the kingdom of letters. I
confess the truth to you when, as a wise republican, I read thought-
fully in the pages of history, I sometimes come to the conclusion
that kings and princes are unnecessary articles of luxury, and I
shrug my shoulders at them rather contemptuously. "
" And yet, sire, the arts need the protection of princes ; that the
republic of letters blooms and flourishes in a monarchy is shown in
Prussia, where a royal republican and a republican king governs his
people, and at the same time gives freedom of thought and speech
FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
to science. France should be proud and happy that your majesty
has adopted so many of her sons into your republic of letters ; we
dare, therefore, come to the conclusion that your majesty will not
confine your interest wholly to them, but that this alliance between
France and Prussia, which my king so earnestly desires and "
"Unhappily," said the king, interrupting him eagerly, "the dis-
tinguished Frenchmen who have become my allies, are exactly those
whom their strong-minded, fanatical mother, La France, has cast
out from her bosom as dishonored sons. Voltaire lives in Ferney.
Jean Jacques Rousseau, whom I admire but do not love, lives in
Geneva, where he has been obliged to take refuge. I have also been
told that the pension which, in a favorable moment, was granted to
D'Alembert, has been withdrawn. Have I been falsely informed?
has my friend D' Alenibert not fallen into disgrace? is not my friend
the encyclopsedian, regarded as a transgressor, and a high traitor
because he uses the undoubted right of free thought, does not blindly
believe, but looks abroad with open eyes and a clear intellect?"
The duke replied by a few confused and disconnected words, and
a shadow fell upon his clear countenance ; three times had Frederick
interrupted him when he sought to speak of the King of France and
his friendship for his brother of Prussia. The duke did not daro
choose this theme for the fourth time, which was so evidently dis
tasteful to the king ; he must, therefore, submit and follow the lead
of his majesty, and in lieu of alliances and state questions discuss
philosophy and the arts. So soon as the duke came to this conclu-
sion, he smoothed his brow, and, with all his amiability, animation,
and intelligence, he replied to the questions of the king, and the
conversation was carried on in an unbroken stream of wit and
gayety.
"At the next audience I will surely find an opportunity to speak
of politics, " said the duke to himself. " The king cannot always be
so immovable as to-day. "
But the second and the third audience came, and the king was as
inexplicable as the first time ; he conversed with the duke kindly
and freely showed him the most marked attention and personal
confidence ; but so often as the duke sought to introduce the subject
of politics and the public interests which had brought him to Berlin,
the king interrupted him and led the conversation to indifferent
subjects. This lasted two weeks, and the French court looked with
painful anxiety for intelligence from the Duke de Nivernois that
the old alliance was renewed and fully ratified, and she had, there-
fore, nothing to fear from Prussia. This uncertainty was no longer
to be borne, and the duke determined to end it by a coup d'etat.
He wrote, therefore, to the king, and asked for a private audi
THE PRIVATE AUDIENCE. 125
ence. To his great joy his request was granted ; the king invited
him to come the next day to Sans-Souci.
u At last! at last!" said the duke, drawing a long breath; and
with proud, French assurance, he added, "To-morrow, then, we
will renew this contract which binds the hands of Prussia, and gives
France liberty of action. "
CHAPTER VI.
THE PRIVATE AUDIENCE.
THE king received the French ambassador without ceremony.
There were no guards, no pages, no swarms of curious listening
courtiers, only a few of his trusty friends- who welcomed the duke
and conversed with him, while Pollnitz entered the adjoining room
and informed the king of his arrival.
"His majesty entreats the duke to enter." said Pollnitz, opening
"he door of the library. The king advanced. He was dressed sim-
ply ; even the golden star, which was seldom absent from his coat,
was now missing.
"Come, duke," said the king, pleasantly, "come into my tuscu-
lum. " He then entered the library, quickly followed by the duke.
" Well, sir, " said the king, " we are now in that room in which
I lately told you I was but a republican. You have crossed the
threshold of the republic of letters !"
"But I see a king before me," said the duke, bowing reveren-
tially ; " a king who has vanquished his republic, and surpassed all
the great spirits that have gone before him. "
The king's glance rested upon the shelves filled with books, on
whose back glittered in golden letters the most distinguished names
of all ages.
"Homer, Tacitus, Livy, Petrarch ! ye great spirits of my repub-
lic ! hear how this traitor slanders you. "
" How I honor you, sire, for truly it is a great honor to be sub-
dued and vanquished by such a king as Frederick the Second. "
The king looked at him fixedly. " You wish to bewilder me with
flattery, duke, " said he, " well knowing that it is a sweet opiate,
acceptable to princes, generally causing their ruin. But in this
shamber, duke, I am safe from this danger, and here in my republic
we will both enjoy the Spartan soup of truth. Believe me, sir, it is
at times a wholesome dish, though to the pampered stomach it is
bitter and distasteful. I can digest it. and as you have come to
visit me, you will have to partake of it "
126 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" And I crave it, sire crave it as a man who has fasted for twc
weeks. "
" For two weeks ?" said the king, laughing. "Ah, it is true you
have been here just that time. "
" For two long weeks has your majesty kept me fasting and long-
ing for this precious soup, " said the duke, reproachfully.
" My broth was not ready, " said the king, gayly ; " it was still
bubbling in the pot. It is now done, and we will consume it to-
gether. Let us be seated, duke. "
If Frederick had turned at this moment, he would have seen the
grand chamberlain Pollnitz advancing on tiptoe to the open door, in
order to listen to the conversation. But the king was looking ear-
nestly at the ambassador. After a few moments of silence, he turned
to the duke.
"Is my soup still too hot for you?" said he, laughingly.
"No, sire," said the duke, bowing. "But I waited for your
majesty to take the first spoonful. Would it not be better to close
that door?"
" No, " said the king, hastily ; " I left it open, intentionally, so
that your eyes, when wearied with the gloom of my republic, could
refresh themselves on the glittering costumes of my courtiers. "
" He left it open, " thought the duke, " for these courtiers to hear
all that is said. He wishes the whole world to know how he rejected
the friendship of France. "
"Well, " said the king, " I will take my spoonful. We will com-
mence without further delay. Duke de Nivernois, you are here be-
cause the contract made between France and Prussia is at an end, and
because France wishes me to fancy that she is anxious for a renewal
of this treaty, and for the friendship of Prussia. "
" France wishes to convince you of this, sire, " said the duke.
"Convince me?" said the king, ironically. "And how?"
"King Louis of France not only proposes to renew this contract,
sire, but he wishes to draw the bonds of friendship much closer be-
tween France and Prussia. "
" And to what end ?" said the king. "For you well know, duke,
that in politics personal inclinations must not be considered. Were
it not so, I would, without further delay, grasp the friendly hand
that my brother of France extends toward me, for the whole world
knows that I love France, and am proud of the friendship of her
great spirits. But as, unfortunately, there is no talk here of per-
sonal inclinations but of politics, I repeat my question. To what
end does France desire the friendship of Prussia? What am I to pay
for it? You see, duke, I am a bad diplomatist I make no digres
tiioii. but go to the point at once. "
THE PRIVATE AUDIENCE.. 127
"And that, perhaps, is the nicest diplomacy,* said the duke,
sighing.
" But, duke, do tell me, why is France so anxious for the friend-
ship of Prussia?"
" To have an ally in you and be your ally. By the first, France
will have a trusty and powerful friend in Germany when her lands
are attacked by the King of England ; by the last, your majesty will
have a trusty and powerful friend when Prussia is attacked by
Russia or Austria. "
"We will now speak of the first," said the king, quietly.
" France, then, thinks to transplant this war with England to German
ground ?"
"Everywhere, sire, that the English colors predominate. Eng-
land alone will be accountable for this war. "
" It is true England has been hard upon you, but still it seems to
me you have revenged yourselves sufficiently. When England made
herself supreme ruler of the Ohio, France, by the conquest of the
Isle of Minorca, obtained dominion over the Mediterranean Sea,
thereby wounding England so deeply, that in her despair she turned
her weapons against herself. Admiral Byng, having been overcome
by your admiral Marquis de la Gallissionaire, paid for it with his
life. I think France should be satisfied with this expiation. "
" France will wash off her insults in English blood, and Minorca
is no compensation for Canada and Ohio. England owes us satis-
faction, and we will obtain it in Hanover. "
"In Hanover?" repeated the king, angrily.
" Hanover will be ours, sire, though we had no such ally as Ger-
many ; but it will be ours the sooner if we have that help which you
can give us. Standing between two fires, England will have to
succumb, there will be no escape for her. That is another advan-
tage, sire, that France expects from the treaty with Prussia. But
I will now speak of the advantages which your majesty may expect
from this alliance. You are aware that Prussia is surrounded by
threatening enemies ; that Austria and Russia are approaching her
borders with evil intentions, and that a day may soon come when
Maria Theresa may wish to reconquer this Silesia which, in her
heart, she still calls her own. When this time conies, your majesty
will not be alone ; your ally, France, will be at your side ; she will
repay with faithful, active assistance the services which your
majesty rendered her in Hanover. She will not only render her all
the assistance in her power, but she will also allow her to partake of
the advantages of this victory. Hanover is a rich land, not rich
only in products, but in many other treasures. The Electors of
Hanover have in their residences not only their cheete filled with
128 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
gold and precious jewels, but also the most magnificent paintings
It is but natural that we should pay ourselves in Hanover for the
expenses of this war of which England is the cause. You, then,
will share with us these treasures. And still this is not all. France
is grateful ; she offers you, therefore, one of her colonies, the Isle
of Tobago, as a pledge of friendship and love."
"Where is this isle?" said the king, quietly.
" In the West Indies, sire. "
" And where is Hanover ?"
The duke looked at the king in amazement, and remained silent.
The king repeated his question.
"Well," said the duke, hesitatingly, "Hanover is in Germany."
"And for this German land which, with my aid, France is to
conquer, I ain to receive as a reward the little Isle of Tobago in the
West Indies ! Have you finished, dyke, or have you other proposi
tions to make?"
" Sire, I have finished, and await your answer. *
" And this answer, duke, shall be clearer and franker than your
questions. I will begin by answering the latter part of your speech.
Small and insignificant as the King of Prussia may appear in your
eyes, I would have you know he is no robber, no highwayman ; he
/eaves these brilliant amusements without envy to France. And
now, my dear duke, I must inform you, that since this morning it
has been placed out of my power to accept this alliance ; for this
morning a treaty was signed, by which I became the ally of Eng-
land !"
" It is impossible, sire, " cried the duke ; " this cannot be !"
" Not possible, sir!" said the king, "and still it is true. I have
formed a treaty with England this matter is settled ! I have been
an ally of Louis XV. ; I have nothing to complain of in him. I
love him ; well, am I now his enemy? I hope that there may be a
time when I may again approach the King of France. Pray tell
him how anxiously I look forward to this time. Tell him I am
much attached to him. "
"Ah, sire," said the duke, sighing, "it is a great misfortune. I
dare not go to my monarch with this sad, unexpected news ; my
monarch who loves you so tenderly, whose most earnest wish it is
for France to be allied to Prussia. "
" Ah, duke, " said Frederick, laughing, " France wishes for ships
as allies. I have none to offer England has. With her help I shall
keep the Russians from Prussia, and with n/y aid she will keep the
French from Hanover. "
"We are to be enemies, then?" said the duke, sadly.
" It is a necessary evil, for which there is no remedy. But Louis
THE TRAITOR. 129
XV. can form other alliances," said Frederick, ironically. "It may
be for liis interest to unite with the house of Austria !"
The duke was much embarrassed.
" Your majesty is not in earnest, " said he, anxiously.
"Why not, "duke?" said Frederick ; "an alliance between France
and Austria it sounds very natural. If I were in your place, l!
would propose this to my court. "
He now rose, which was a sign to the duke that the audience was
at an end.
" I must now send a courier at once to my court, " said the duke,
" and I will not fail to state that your majesty advises us to unite
with Austria."
" You will do well ; that is, " said the king, with a meaning
smile " that is, if you think your court is in need of such advice,
and has not already acted without it. When do you leave, duke?"
" To-morrow morning, sire. "
" Farewell, duke, and do not forget that in my heart I am the
friend of France, though we meet as enemies on the battle-field. "
The duke bowed reverentially, and, sighing deeply, left the royal
library, " the republic of letters, " to hasten to Berlin.
The king looked after him thoughtfully.
" The die is ca t, " said he, softly. " There will be war / Our days
of peace and quietude are over, and the days of danger are ap-
proaching 1"
CHAPTER VII.
THE TRAITOR.
THE sun had just risen, and was shedding its golden rays over
che garden of Sans-Souci, decking the awaking flowers with glitter-
ing dew-drops. All was quiet Nature alone was up and doing ; no
one was to be seen, no sound was to be heard, but the rustling of
trees and the chirping of birds. All was still and peaceful ; it
seemed as if the sound of human misery and passion could not reach
this spot. There was something so holy in this garden, that you
could but believe it to be a part of paradise in which the serpent had
not yet exercised his arts of seduction. But no, this is but a beauti-
ful dream. Man is here, but he is sleeping ; he is still resting from
the toils and sorrows of the past day. Man is here ! he is coming
to destroy the peacef ainess of Nature with his sorrows and com.
plaints.
The little gate at the farthest end of that shady walk is opened.
130 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
and a man enters. The dream is at an end, and Sans-Souci is now
but a beautiful garden, not a paradise, for it has been desecrated by
the foot of man. He hastens up the path leading to the palace ; he
hurries forward, panting and gasping. His face is colorless, his
long hair is fluttering in the morning wind, his eyes'are fixed and
glaring ; his clothes are covered with dust, and his head is bare.
There is something terrifying in the sudden appearance of this
man. Nature seems to smile no more since he came ; the trees have
stopped their whispering, the birds cannot continue their melodious
songs since they have seen his wild, anxious look. The peaceful-
ness of Nature is broken. For man that is to say, misery, mis-
fortune ; for man that is to say, sin, guilt, and meanness is there,
pouring destroying drops of poison in the golden chalice of creation.
Breathlessly he hurries on, looking neither to right nor left He
has now reached the terrace, and now he stops for a moment to
recover breath. He sees not the glorious panorama lying at his
feet ; he is blind to all but himself. He is alone in the world >
alone with his misery, his pain. Now he hastens on to the back of
the palace. The sentinels walking before the back and the front of
the castle know him, know where he is going, and they barely
glance at him as he knocks long and loudly at that little side window.
It is opened, and a young girl appears, who, when perceiving
this pale, anxious countenance, which is striving in vain to smile
at her, cries out loudly, and folds her hands as if in prayer.
" Hush !" said he, roughly ; " hush ! let me in. "
"Some misfortune has happened !" said she, terrified.
"Yes, Rosa, a great misfortune; but let me in, if you do not
wish to ruin me. "
The young girl disappears, and the man hastens to the side door
of the castle. It is opened, and he slips in.
Perfect peace reigns once more in the garden of Sans-Souci.
Nature is now smiling, for she is alone with her innocence. Man
is not there ! But now, in the castle, in the dwelling of the castle
warder, and in the room of his lovely daughter Rosa, all is alive.
There is whispering, and weeping, and sighing, and praying ; there
is Rosa, fearful and trembling, her face covered with tears, and op-
posite her, her pale, woe-begone lover.
" I have been walking all night, " said he, with a faint and hollow
voice. "I did not know that Berlin was so far from Potsdam, and
had I known it, I would not have dared to take a w T agon or a horse ;
I had to slip away very quietly. While by Count Puebla's order
my room was guarded, and I thought to be in it, I descended into
the garden by the grape-vine, which reached up to my window.
The gardener bad no suspicions of howl came there, when I required
THE TRAITOR. 131
him to unlock the door, but laughed cunningly, thinking I was
bound to some rendezvous. And so I wandered on in fear and pain,
in despair and anger, and it seemed to me as if the road would never
come to an end. At times I stopped, thinking I heard behind me
wild cries and curses, the stamping of horses, and the rolling of
wheels ; but it was imagination. Ah ! it was a frightful road ; but
it is past. But now I will be strong, for this concerns my name,
my life, my honor. Why do you laugh, Rosa?" said he, angrily;
"do you dare to laugh, because I speak of my name my honor?"
" I did not laugh, " said Rosa, looking with terror at the disturbed
countenance of her lover.
"Yes, you laughed, and you were right to laugh, when I spoke
of my honor ; I who have no honor ; I who have shamed nay name ;
I upon whose brow is the sign of murder : for I am guilty of the
ruin of a man, and the chains on his hands are cursing my name. "
" My God ! he is mad, " murmured Rosa.
"No, I am not mad," said he, with a heart-breaking smile. "I
know all, all ! Were I mad, I would not be so unhappy. Were I
unconscious, I would suffer less. But, no, I remember all. I know
how this evil commenced, how it grew and poisoned my heart.
The evil was my poverty, my covetousness, and perhaps also my
ambition. I was not content to bear forever the chains of bondage ;
I wished to be free from want. I determined it should no more bo
said that the sisters of Count Weingarten had to earn their bread by
their needlework, while he feasted sumptuously at the royal table.
This it was that caused my ruin. These frightful words buzzed in
my ears so long, that in my despair I determined to stop them at
any price ; and so I committed my first crime, and received a golden
reward for my treason. My sisters did not work now ; I bought a
small house for them, and gave them all that I received. I shud-
dered at the sight of this money ; I would keep none of it. I was
again the poor secretary Weingarten, but my family was not help-
less ; they had nothing to fear. "
To whom was he telling all this ? Certainly not to that young
girl standing before him, pale and trembling. He had forgotten
himself ; he had forgotten her whom in other days he had called his
heart's darling.
As she sank at his feet and covered his hands with her tears, he
rose hastily from his seat ; he now remembered that he was not
alone.
"What have I said?" cried he, wildly. "Why do you weep?"
" I weep because you have forgotten me, " said she, softly ; " I
weep because, in accusing yourself, you make no excuse for your
crime ; not even your love for your poor Rosa. "
132 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"It is true," said he, sadly, "I had forgotten our love. And
still it is the only excuse that I have for my second crime. I had
determined to be a good man, and to expiate my one crime through-
out my whole life. But when I saw you, your beauty fascinated
me, and you drew me on. I went with open eyes into the net which
you prepared for me, Rosa. I allowed myself to be allured by your
beauty, knowing well that it would draw me into a frightful
abyss. "
"Ah," said Rosa, groaning, "how cruelly you speak of our love !"
" Of our love !" repeated he, shrugging his shoulders. " Child,
in this hour we will be true to each other. Ours was no true love.
You were in love with my noble name and position I with your
youth, your beauty, your coquettish ways. Our souls were not in
unison. You gave yourself to me, not because you loved me. but
because you wished to deceive me. I allowed myself to be deceived
because of your loveliness and because I saw the golden reward
which your deceitful love would bring me. "
" You are cruel and unjust, " said Rosa, sadly. " It may be true
that you never loved me, but I loved you truly. I gave you my
whole heart. "
" Yes, and in giving it, " said he, harshly " in giving it you had
the presence of mind to keep the aim of your tenderness always in
view. "While your arms were around me, your little hand which
seemed to rest upon my heart, sought for the key which I always
kept in my vest-pocket, and which I had lately told you belonged
to the desk in which the important papers of the embassy were
placed. You found this key, Rosa, and I knew it, but I only
laughed, and pressed you closer to my heart. "
"Terrible! terrible!" said Rosa, trembling. "He knew all, and
still he let me do it !"
"Yes I allowed you to do it I did not wish to be better than the
girl I loved ; and, as she desired to deceive me, I let myself be de-
ceived. I allowed it, because the demon of gold had taken posses-
sion of me. I took the important papers out of my desk, to which
you had stolen the key, and hid them. Then the tempters came and
whispered of golden rewards, of eternal gratitude, of fortune,
honor ; and these fiendish whispers misled my soul. I sold my
honor and became a traitor, and all this for the sake of gold ! So I
became what I now am. I do not reproach you, Rosa, for moss
likely it would have happened without you."
" But what danger threatens you now ?" asked Rosa.
"The just punishment for a traitor," said he, hoarsely. "Give
me some wine, Rosa, so that I cs,n gain strength to go to the king
at once. "
THE TRAITOR 133
"To the king at this early hour?"
"And why not? Have I not been with him often at this hour,
when I had important news or dispatches to give him? So give me
the wine, Rosa."
Rosa left the room, but returned almost instantly. He took the
bottle from her and filled a glass hastily.
" Now, " said he, breathing deeply, " I feel that I live again. My
blood flows freely through my veins, and my heart is beating loudly.
Now to the king !"
He stood before a glass for a moment to arrange his hair ; then
pressed a cold kiss upon Rosa's pale, trembling lips, and left the
room. With a firm, sure tread, he hurried through the halls and
chambers. No one stopped him, for no one was there to see him.
In the king's antechamber sat Deesen taking his breakfast.
"Is the king up?" asked Weingarten.
" The sun has been up for hours, and so of course the king is up, "
said Deesen, proudly.
" Announce me to his majesty ; I have some important news for
him."
He entered the king's chamber, and returned in a few moments
for Weingarten.
The king was sitting in an arm-chair by a window, which he
had opened to breathe the fresh summer air. His white greyhound,
Amalthea, lay at his feet, looking up at him with his soft black
eyes. In his right hand the king held his flute.
"You are early, sir," said he, turning to Weingarten. "You
must have very important news. "
"Yes, sire, very important," said Weingarten, approaching
nearer.
The king reached out his hand. "Give them to me, " said he.
" Sire, I have no dispatches. "
"A verbal message, then. Speak."
" Sire, all is lost ; Count Puebla suspects me. "
The king was startled for a moment, but collected himself imme-
diately. "He suspects, but he is certain of nothing?"
u No, sire ; but his suspicion amounts almost to certainty. Yes-
terday I was copying a dispatch which was to go that evening, and
which was of the highest importance to your majesty, when I sud-
denly perceived Count Puebla standing beside me at my desk. He
had entered my room very quietly, which showed that he had his
suspicions, and was watching me. He snatched my copy from the
desk and read it. 'For whom is this?' said be, in a threatening
tone. I stammered forth some excuses ; said that I intended writing
a history, and that I took a copy of all dispatches for my work. He
134 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
would not listen to me. 'You are a traitor !' said he, in a thunder
ing voice. 'I have suspected you for some time; lam now con-
vinced of your treachery. You shall have an examination to-
morrow ; for to-night you will remain a prisoner in your room.
He then locked my desk, put the key in his pocket, and, taking with
him the dispatch and my copy, left the room. I heard him lock it
and bolt my door. I was a prisoner. "
"How did you get out?" said the king.
" By the window, sire. And I flew here to throw myself at your
majesty's feet, and to beg for mercy and protection. "
"I promised you protection and help in case of your detection I
will fulfil my promise. What are your wishes. Let us see if they
can be realized. "
"Will your majesty give me some sure place of refuge where
Count Puebla's threats cannot harm me?"
"You will remain here in the dwelling of the castle- warder until
a suitable residence can be found for you. What next? What
plans have you made for the future?"
" I would humbly beseech your majesty to give me some position in
your land worthy of my station, such as your highness promised me. "
"You remember too many of my promises, " said the king, shrug-
ging his shoulders.
"Your majesty will not grant me the promised position?' said
Count Weingarten, tremblingly.
" I remember no such promise, " said Frederick. " Men of your
stamp are paid, but not rewarded. I have made use of your treach-
ery ; but you are, nevertheless, in my eyes a traitor, and I will have
none such in my service. "
" Then I am lost !" said Weingarten. " My honor, my good name,
my future are annihilated."
" Your honor has been weighed with gold, " said the king, sternly,
" and I think I have already paid more for it than it was worth.
Your good name, it is true, will be from now changed into a bad
one ; and your mother will have to blush when she uses it. There-
fore I advise you to let it go ; to take another name ; to begin a new
-"cistence, and to found a new future. "
" A future without honor, without name, without position !"
sighed Weingarten, despairingly.
" So are men !" said the king, softly ; " insolent and stubborn
when they think themselves secure ; cowardly and uncertain when
they are in danger. So you were rash enough to think that your
treacherous deeds would always remain a secret? You did not think
of a possible detection, or prepare yourself for it. In treading the
road which you have trodden, every step should be considered.
THE TRAITOR. 135
This, it seems to me, you have not done. You wish to enjoy the
fruits of your treachery in perfect security ; but you have not the
courage to stand before the world as a traitor. Do away with this
name, which will cause you many dangers and insults. Fly from
this place, where you and your deeds are known. Under a different
name look for an asylum in another part of my land. Money shall
not fail you ; and if what you have earned from me is not sufficient,
turn to me, and I will lend you still more. I will not forget that to
me your treachery has been of great use, and therefore I will not
desert you, though I shall despise the traitor. And now, farewell !
This is our last meeting. Call this afternoon upon my treasurer ;
he will pay you two hundred louis d'or. And now go. " And with
a scornful look at Weingarten's pale countenance, he turned to the
window.
Weingarten hurried past the halls and chambers, and entered
Rosa's room. She read in his pale, sad face that he had no good
news to tell her.
"Has it all been in vain?" said she, breathlessly.
"In vain?" cried he, with a scornful smile. "No, not in vain.
The king rewarded me well ; much better than Judas Iscariot was
rewarded. I have earned a large sum of money, and am still to
receive a thousand crowns. Quiet yourself, Rosa ; we will be very
happy, for we will have money. Only I must ask if the proud
daughter of the royal castle- warder will give her hand to a man who
can offer her no name, no position. Rosa, I warn you, think well
of what you do. You loved me because I was a count, and had po-
sition to offer you. From to-day, I have no position, no name, no
honor, no family. Like Ahasuerus, I will wander wearily through
the world, happy and thanking God if I can find a quiet spot where
I am not known, and my name was never heard. There I will rest,
and trust to chance for a name. Rosa, will you share with me this
existence, without sunshine, without honor, without a name?"
She was trembling so, that she could barely speak.
" I have no choice, " stammered she, at last ; " I must follow you,
for my honor demands that I should be your wife. I must go with
you ; fate wills it."
With a loud shriek she fainted by his side. Weingarten did not
raise her ; he glanced wildly at the pale, lifeless woman at his feet.
" We are both condemned, " murmured he, " we have both lost
our honor. And with this Cain's mark upon our foreheads we will
wander wearily through the world. " *
* Count Weingarten escaped from all his troubles happily. He married his sweet-
neart, the daughter of the castle-warder, and went to Altmark, where, under the
name of Veis, he lived happily for many years.
136 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The king, in the mean while, after Weingarten had left him,
walked thoughtfully up and down his room. At times he raised
his head and gazed with a proud, questioning glance at the sky.
Great thoughts were at work within him. Now Frederick throws
back his head proudly, and his eyes sparkle.
" The time has come, " said he, in a loud, full voice. " The ZG~J
for delay is past ; now the sword must decide between me and my
enemies." He rang a bell hastily, and ordered a valet to send a
courier at once to Berlin, to call General "Winterfeldt, General
Retzow, and also Marshal Schwerin, to Sans-Souci.
CHAPTER VIII.
DECLARATION OF WAR.
A FEW hours after the departure of the courier, the heavy move-
ment of wheels in the court below announced to the king, who vras
standing impatiently at his window, the arrival of the expected
generals. In the same moment, his chamberlain, opening wide the
library door, ushered them into his presence.
"Ah!" said the king, welcoming them pleasantly, "I see I am
not so entirely without friends as my enemies think. I have but to
call, and Marshal Schwerin, that is, wisdom and victory, is at my
side ; and Generals Winterfeldt and Retzow, that is, youth and
courage, boldness and bravery, are ready to give me all the assist-
ance in their power. Sirs, I thank you for coming to me at once.
Let us be seated ; listen to what I have to say, and upon what earnest
important subjects I wish your advice. "
And in a few words the king first showed them the situation of
Europe and of his own states, so as to prepare them for the more
important subjects he had to introduce before them.
"You will now understand, " said he, "why I was ?o tviiling 'x>
make this contract with England. I hoped thereby to gain Russia,
vho is allied to England, to my side. But these hopes have been
destroyed. Russia, angry with Britain for having allied herself to
Prussia, has broken her contract. Bestuchef , it is true, wavered for
a moment between his love of English guineas and his hatred of
me, but hate carried the day. "
"But. sire," said Retzow, hastily, "if your majesty can succeed
in making a reconciliation between France and England, you may
become the ally of these two powerful nations. Then let Austria,
Russia, and Saxony come upon us all at once, we can confront them. "
" We can do that, I hope, even without the assistance of France, "
DECLARATION OF WAR. la?
said the king, impetuously. "We must renounce all idea of help
from France ; she is allied to Austria. What Kami i tx commenced
with his wisdom, Maria Theresa carried out with her flattery. All
my enemies have determined to attack me at once. But I am ready
for them, weapons in hand. I have been hard at work ; all is
arranged, eveiy preparation for the march of our army is finished.
And now I have called you together to counsel me as to where we
"an commence our attack advantageously. "
Frederick stopped speaking, and gazed earnestly at his generals,
endeavoring ix5 divine their thoughts. Marshal Schwerin was look-
ing silently before him ; a dark cloud rested upon General Retzow'o
brow ; but the young, handsome face of Winterfeldt was sparkling
with delight at the thought of war.
"Well, marshal," said the king, impatiently, "what is your
advice?"
"My advice, sire," said the old marshal, sighing; "I see my
king surrounded by threatening and powerful foes ; I see him alone
in the midst of all these allied enemies. For England may, per-
chance, send us money, but she has no soldiers for us, and more-
over, we must assist her to defend Hanover. I cannot counsel thif;
war, for mighty enemies are around us, and Prussia stands alone. "
" No, " said Frederick, solemnly, " Prussia stands not alone ! a
good cause and a good sword are her allies, and with them she will
conquer. And now, General Retzow, let us have your opinion. "
" I agree entirely with Marshal Schwerin, " said Retzow. " Like
him, I think Prussia should not venture into this strife, because she
is too weak to withstand such powerful adversaries. "
"You speak prudently," said Frederick, scornfully. "And now,
Winterfeldt, are you also against this war?"
" No, sire, " cried Winterfeldt, " I am for the attack, and never
were circumstances more favorable than at present. Austria has as
yet made no preparations for war ; her armies are scattered, and her
finances are in disorder ; and now it will be an easy task to attack
her and subdue her surprised army. "
The king looked at him pleasantly, and turning to the other
generals, said quietly :
" We must not be carried away by the brave daring of this youth ;
he is the youngest among us, and is, perhaps, misled by enthusiasm.
But we old ones must reflect ; and I wished to convince you that I
had not failed to do this. But all has been in vain. "
"Now is the time," said Winterfeldt, with sparkling eyes, "to
convince the crippled, unwieldy Austrian eagle that the young
eagle of Prussia has spread her wings, and that her claws are strong
enough to giasp all her enemies and hurl them into an abyss. w
10
138 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" And if the young eagle, in spite of his daring, should have to
succumb to the superiority of numbers, " said Marshal Schwerin,
sadly. "If the balls of his enemies should break his wings, thereby
preventing his flight for the future? "Were it not better to avoid
this possibility, and not to allow the whole world to say that Prus-
sia, out of love of conquest, began a fearful war, which she could
have avoided?"
" There is no reason in this war, " said General Retzow ; " for,
though Austria, Saxony, and Russia are not our friends, they have
not shown as yet by any open act that they are our enemies ; and
though Austria's alliance with France surprised the world, so also
did Prussia's alliance with England. Our soldiers will hardly know
why they are going to battle, and they will be wanting in that in-
spiration which is necessary to excite an army to heroic deeds. "
" Inspiration shall not be wanting, and my army as well as your-
selves shall know the many causes we have for this war. The
reasons I have given you as yet have not satisfied you? Well, then,
I will give you others ; and, by Heaven, you will be content with
them ! You think Austria's unkindly feelings to Prussia have not
been shown by any overt act. I will now prove to you that she is
on the point of acting. " And Frederick, lifting up some papers
from his desk, continued : " These papers will prove to you, what
you seem determined not to believe, namely, that Saxony, Russia,
and France are prepared to attack Prussia with their combined
forces, and to turn the kingdom of Prussia into a margraviate once
more. These papers are authentic proofs of the dangers which
hover over us. I will now inform you how I came by them, so that
you may be convinced of their genuineness. For some time I have
suspected that there was, amongst my enemies, an alliance against
me, and that they had formed a contract in which they had sworn
to do all in their power to destroy Prussia. I only needed to have
my suspicions confirmed, and to have the proofs of this contract in
my hands. There proofs were in the Saxon archives, and in the
dispatches of the Austrian embassy. It was therefore necessary to
get the key of these archives, and to have copies of these dispatches.
I succeeded in doing both, Chance, or if you prefer it, a kind Provi-
dence, came to my aid. The Saxon chancellor, Reinitz, a former
servant of General Winterfeldt, came from Dresden to Potsdam to
look for Winterfeldt and to confide to him that a friend of his,
Chancellor Minzel of Dresden, had informed him that the state
papers interchanged between the court of Vienna and Dresden
were kept in the Dresden archives, of which he had the key. Win-
terfeldt brought me this important message. Reinitz conducted the
first negotiations with. Mcr."C-, y/nich I then delivered into the
DECLARATION OF WAR. 139
hands of my ambassador in Dresden, Count Mattzahn. Menzel was
poor and covetous. He was therefore easily to be bribed. For three
years Mattzahn has received copies of every dispatch that passed
between the three courts. I am quite as well informed of all nego-
tiations between Austria and France, for the secretary of the Austrian
legation of this place, a Count Weingarten, gave me, for promises
and gold, copies of all dispatches that came from Vienna and were
forwarded to France. You see the corruption of man has borne me
good fruit, and that gold is a magic wand which reveals all secrets.
And now let us cast a hasty glance over these papers which I
have obtained by the aid of treacheiy and bribery."
He took one of the papers and spread it before the astonished
generals. "You see here," he continued, "a sample of all other
negotiations. It is a copy of a share contract which the courts of
Vienna and Dresden formed in 1745. They then regarded the de-
cline of Prussia as so sure an occurrence that they had already
divided amongst themselves the different parts of my land. Russia
soon affixed her name also to this contract, and here in this docu-
ment you will see that these three powers have sworn to attack
Prussia at the same moment, and that for this conquest, each one of
the named courts was to furnish sixty thousand men. "
While the generals were engaged in reading these papers, the
king leaned back in his arm-chair, gazing keenly at Retzow and
Schwerin. He smiled gayly as he saw Schwerin pressing his lips
tightly together, and trying in vain to suppress a cry of rage, and
Retzow clinching his fists vehemently.
When the papers had been read, and Schwerin was preparing to
speak, the king, with his head thrown proudly back, and gazing
earnestly at his listeners, interrupted him, saying :
"Now, sirs, perhaps you see the dangers by which we are sur-
rounded. Under the circumstances, I owe it to myself, to my honor,
and to the security of my land, to attack Austria and Saxony, and
so to nip their abominable designs in the bud, before their allies
are ready to give them any assistance. I am prepared, and the only
question to be answered before setting our army in' motion, is where
to commence the attack to our advantage? For the deciding of this
question, I have called you together. I have finished and now,
Marshal Schwerin, it is your turn. "
The old gray warrior arose. It may be that he was convinced
by the powerful proofs and words of the king, or that knowing that
his will was law it were vain to oppose him, but he was now as
strongly for war as the king or Winterfeldt.
"If there is to be war," said he, enthusiastically, "let us start to-
morrow, take Saxony, and, in that land of corn, build magazines
140 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
for the holding of our provisions, so as to secure a way for our
future operations in Bohemia. "
" Ah I now I recognize my old Schwerin, " said the king, gayly
pressing the marshal's hand. "No more delay! 'To anicipate' ia
my motto, and shall, God willing, be Prussia's in future."
"And our army," said Winterfeldt, with sparkling eyes, "has
been accustomed, for hundreds of years, not only to defend them-
selves, but also to attack. Ah, at last it is to be granted us to fight
our arch-enemies in open field, mischief -making Austria, intriguing
Saxony, barbarous Russia, and finally lying, luxurious France, and
to convince them that, though we do not fear their anger, we share
their hatred with our whole hearts. "
"And you, Retzow," said the king, sternly, turning to the gen-
eral, who was sitting silently with downcast head ; " do your views
coincide with Schwerin's? Or do you still think it were better to
wait?"
" Yes, sire, " said Retzow, sadly ; " I think delay, under the
present threatening circumstances, would be the wisest course ; I "
He was interrupted by the entrance of a valet, who approached
Ova Mng, and whispered a few words to him.
Frederick turned smilingly to the generals. " The princes, my
brothers, have arrived," said he; "they were to be here at this
hour to hear the result of our consultation. And, it strikes me,
they arrive at the right moment. The princes may enter. "
CHAPTER IX.
THE KING AND HIS BROTHERS.
THE door was thrown open and the princes entered. First came
the Prince of Prussia, whose pale, dejected countenance was to-day
paler and sadder than usual. Then Prince Henry, whose quick,
bright eyes were fixed inquiringly on General Retzow. The general
shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head. Prince Henry must
nave understood these movements, for his brow became clouded,
and a deep red suffused his countenance. The king, who had seen
this, laughed mockingly, and let the princes approach veiy close to
nim, before addressing them.
"Sirs," said he, "I have called you here, because I have some
important news to communicate. The days of peace are over, and
war is at hand !"
"War ! and with whom?" said the Prince of Prussia, earnestly.
" War with our enemies !" cried the king. "War with those who
THE KING AND HIS BROTHERS. 141
have sworn Prussia's destruction. War with Austria, France
Saxony, and Russia !"
"That is impossible, my brother," cried the prince, angrily.
" You cannot dream of warring against such powerful nations. You
cannot believe in the possibility of victory. Powerful and mighty
as your spirit is it will have to succumb before the tremendous
force opposed to it. Oh ! my brother ! my king ! be merciful to
yourself, to us, to our country. Do not desire the impossible ! DC
not venture into the stormy sea of war, to fight with your frail barks
against the powerful men of war that your enemies will direct against
you. We cannot be victorious ! Preserve to your country your
own precious life, and that of her brave sons. "
The king's eyes burned with anger; they were fixed with an
expression of deep hatred upon the prince.
"Truly, my brother," said he, in a cold, cutting tone, "fear has
made you eloquent. You speak as if inspired."
A groan escaped the prince, and he laid his hand unwittingly
upon his sword. He was deadly pale, and his lips trembled so vio-
ently, that he could scarcely speak.
" Fear !" said he, slowly. " That is an accusation which none but
the king would dare to bring against me, and of which I will clear
myself, if it comes to this unhappy war which your majesty j ro-
poses, and which I now protest against, in the name of my rights
my children, and my country. "
"And I," said Prince Henry, earnestly "I also protest against
this war ! Have pity on us, my king. Much as I thirst for renown
and glory, often as I have prayed to God to grant me an occasion to
distinguish myself, I now swear to subdue forever this craving for
renown, if it can only be obtained at the price of this frightful,
useless war. You stand alone ! Without allies, it is impossible to
conquer. Why, then, brave certain ruin and destruction?"
The king's countenance was frightful to look at ; his eyes were
flashing with rage, and his voice was like thunder, it was so loud
and threatening.
"Enough of this !" said he ; "you were called here, not to advise,
but to receive my commands. The brother has heard you patiently,
but now the King of Prussia stands before you, and demands of you
obedience and submission. We are going to battle ; this is settled;
and your complaints and fears will not alter my determination.
But all those who fear to follow me on the battle-field, have my per-
mission to remain at home, and pass their time in love idyls. Who,
amongst you all, prefers this? Let him speak, and he shaD follow
his own inclinations. "
"None of us could do that," said Prince Henry, passionately
142 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" If the King of Prussia calls his soldiers, they will all come and
follow their chieftain joyfully, though they are marching to certain
death. I have already given you my personal opinion ; it now rests
with me to obey you, as a soldier, as a subject. This I will do joy-
fully, without complaining. "
"I also," said Prince Augustus William, earnestly. "Like my
brother, I will know how to subdue my own opinions and fears,
and to follow in silent obedience my king and my chieftain. "
The king threw a glance of hatred upon the pale, disturbed
countenance of the prince.
" You will go where I command you, " said he, sharply ; and not
giving the prince time to answer, he turned abruptly to Marshal
Schwerin.
"Well, marshal, do you wish for a furlough, during this war?
You heard me say I would refuse it to no one. "
" I demand nothing of your majesty, but to take part in the first
battle against your enemies. I do not ask who they are. The hour
for consultation is past ; it is now time to act. Let us to work, and
that right quickly. "
"Yes, to battle, sire," cried Retzow, earnestly. "As soon as
your majesty has said that this war is irrevocable, your soldiers
must have no further doubts, and they will follow you joyfully, to
conquer or to die."
"And you, Winterfeldt, " said the king, taking his favorite's
hand tenderly ; "have you nothing to say? Or have the Prince of
Prussia's fears infected you, and made of you a coward?"
"Ah, no! sire, "said Winterfeldt, pressing the king's hand to
his breast; "how could my courage fail, when it is Prussia's hero
king that leads to battle? How can I be otherwise than joyous and
confident of victory, when Frederick calls us to fight against his
wicked and arrogant enemies? No! I have no fears; God and the
true cause is on our side. "
Prince Henry approached nearer to the king, and looking at him
proudly, he said :
" Sire, you asked General Winterfeldt if he shared the Prince of
Prussia's fears. He says no ; but I will beg your majesty to remem-
ber, that I share entirely the sentiments of my dear and noble
brother. "
As he finished, he threw an angry look at General Winterfeldt
The latter commenced a fierce rejoinder, but was stopped by the king.
" Be still, Winterfeldt, " he said ; " war has as yet not been de-
clared, and till then, let there at least be peace in my own house. "
Then approaching Prince Henry, and laying his hand on his shoul-
der, he said kindly : " We will not exasperate each other, my brother
THE KIKG AND HIS BROTHERS. 143
You have a noble, generous soul, and no one would dare to doubt
your courage. It grieves me that you do not share my views as to
the necessity of this war, but I know that you will be a firrcu helpful
friend, and share with me my dangers, my burdens, and if God
wills it, also my victory. "
" Not I alone will do this, " cried Prince Henry, " but also my
brother, Augustus William, the Prince of Prussia, whose heart is not
less brave, whose courage"
" Hush, Henry ! I pray you. " said the Prince of Prussia, sadly ;
" speak not of my courage. By defending it, it would seem that it
had been doubted, and that is a humiliation which I would stand
from no one, "
The king appeared not to have heard these words. He took some
papers from the table by which he was standing, and said :
" All that remains to be told you now, is that I agree with Mar-
shal Schwerin. We will commence the attack in Saxony. To
Saxony, then, gentlemen ! But, until the day before the attack, let
us keep even the question of war a secret. "
Then, with the paper under his arm, he passed through the saloois
and entered his library.
There was a long pause after he left. The Prince of Prussia, ex-
hausted by the storm which had swept over his soul, had with-
drawn to one of the windows, where he was hid from view by the
heavy satin damask curtains.
Prince Henry, standing alone in the middle of the room, gazed
after his brother, and a deep sigh escaped him. Then turning to
Retzow, he said :
"You would not, then, fulfil my brother's and my own wishes?"
" I did all that was in my power, prince, " said the general, sigh-
ing. "Your highness did not wish this war to take place ; you de-
sired me, if the king asked for my advice, to tell him that we were
too weak, and should therefore keep the peace. Well, I said this,
not only because you desired it, but because it was also my own
opinion. But the king's will was unalterable. He has meditated
this war for years. Years ago, with Winterfeldt's aid, he drew all
the plans and made every other arrangement."
" Winterfeldt !" murmured the prince to himself, "yes, Wintei--
feldt is the fiend whose whispers have misled the king. We sus-
l>ected this long ago, but we had to bear it in silence, for we coul
not prevent it. "
And giving his passionate nature full play, he approached Gen
eral Winterfeldt, who was whispering to Marshal Schwerin.
"You can rejoice, general," said the prince, "for now you can
take your private revenge on the Empress of Russia. "
144 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Winterfeldt encountered the prince's angry glance with a quiet,
cheerful look.
"Your highness does me too much honor in thinking that a poor
soldier, such as I am, could be at" enmity with a royal empress.
What could this Russian empress have done to me, that could call
for revenge on my part?"
"What has she done to you?" said the prince, with a mocking
smile. " Two things, which man finds hardest to forgive ! She
outwitted you, and took your riches from you. Ah ! general, I fear
this war will be in vain, and that you will not be able to take your
wife's jewels from St. Petersburg, where the empress retains them."
Winterfeldt subdued his anger, and replied : " You have related
us a beautiful fairy tale, prince, a tale from the Arabian Nights, in
which there is a talk of jewels and glorious treasures, only that in
this tale, instead of the usual dragon, an empress guards them. I
acknowledge that I do not understand your highness. "
" But I understand you perfectly, general. I know your ambi -
tious and proud plans. You wish to make your name renowned.
General, I consider you are much in fault as to this war. You were
the king's confidant you had your spies everywhere, who, for heavy
rewards, imparted to you the news by which you stimulated the
king."
" If in your eyes, " said Winterfeldt, proudly, " it is wrong to
spend your gold to find out the intrigues of your own, your king's,
and your country's enemies, I acknowledge that I am in fault, and
deserve to be punished. Yes, everywhere I have had my spies, and
thanks to them, the king knows Saxony's, Austria's, and Russia's
intentions. I paid these spies with my own gold. Your highness
may thus perceive that I am not entirely dependent on those jewels
of my wife which are said to be in the Empress of Russia's pos-
session. "
At this moment the Prince of Prussia, who had been a silent
witness to this scene, approached General Winterfeldt.
" General, " said he, in a loud, solemn voice, " you are the cause
of this unfortunate war which will soon devastate our poor land.
The responsibility falls upon your head, and woe to you if this war,
caused by your ambition, should be the ruin of our beloved country 1
I would, if there were no punishment for you on earth, accuse you
before the throne of God, and the blood of the slaughtered sons of
my country, the blood of my future subjects, would cry to Heaven
for revenge ! Woe to you if this war should be the ruin of Prussia I"
repeated Prince Henry. " I could never forgive that ; I would hold
your ambition responsible for it, for you have access to the king's
heart, and instead of dissipating his distrust against these foreign
THE LAUREL-BRANCH. 145
nations, you have endeavored to nourish it instead of softening
the king's anger, you have given it fresh food."
"What I have done," cried Winterfeldt, solemnly rasing his
right hand heavenward "what I have done was done from a feel ing
of duty, from love of my country, and from a firm, unshaken trust
in my king's star, which cannot fade, but must become ever more
and more resplendent ! May God punish me if I have acted from
other and less noble motives !"
"Yes, may God punish you may He not revenge your crime
upon our poor country !" said Prince Augustus William. " I have
said my last upon this sad subject. From now on, my private
opinions are subdued I but obey the king's commands. What he
requires of me shall be done where he sends me I will go, without
questioning or considering, but quietly and obediently, as it becomes
a true soldier. I hope that you, my brother, Marshal Schwerin,
and General Retzow, will follow my example. The king has com-
manded we have but to obey cheerfully. "
Then, arm in arm, the princes left the audience-room and re-
turned to Berlin.
CHAPTER X.
THE LAUREL-BRANCH.
WHILE this last scene was passing in the audience-room, the king
had retired to his study, and was walking up and down in deep
thought. His countenance was stern and sorrowful a dark cloud
was upon his brow his lips were tightly pressed together powerful
emotions were disturbing his whole being. He stopped suddenly,
and raising his head proudly, seemed to be listening to the thoughts
and suggestions of his soul.
"Yes," said be, "these were his very words: 'I protest against
this war in the name of my rights, my children, and my country !'
Ah, it is a pleasant thought to him that he is to be heir to my throne.
He imagines that he has rights beyond those that I grant him, and
that he can protest against an action of mine ! He is a rebel, a
traitor. He dares to think of the time when I will be gone of the
time when he or his children will wear this crown ! I feel that I
hate him as my father hated me because I was his heir, and because
the sight of me always reminded him of his death ! Yes, I hate
him ! The effeminate boy will disturb the great work which T am
endeavoring to pefrorm. Under his weak hands, this Prussia,
which I would make great and powerful, will fail to pieces, and ah
146 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
my battles and conquests will be in vain. He will not know how TO
make use of them. I will make of my Prussia a mighty and much
feared nation. And if I succeed, by giving up my every thought to
this one object, then my brother will come and destroy this work
which has cost me such pain and trouble. Prussia needs a strong,
active king, not an effeminate boy who passes his life in sighing for
his lost love and in grumbling at fate for making him the son of a
king. Yes, I feel that I hate him, for I foresee that he will be the
destroyer of my great work. But no, no I do him wrong," said
the king, " and my suspicious heart sees, perhaps, things that are
not. Ah, has it gone so far? Must I, also, pay the tribute which
princes give for their pitiful splendor? I suspect the heir to my
throne, and see in him a secret enemy ! Mistrust has already thrown
her shadow upon my soul, and made it dark and troubled. Ah,
there will come a cold and dreary night for me, when I shall stand
alone in the midst of all my glory !"
His head fell upon his breast, and he remained silent and im-
movable.
" And am I not alone, now ?" said he, and in his voice there was
a soft and sorrowful sound. " My brothers are against me, because
they do not understand me ; my sisters fear me, and, because this
war will disturb their peace and comfort, will hate me. My
mother's heart has cooled toward me, because I will not be influ
enced by her ; and Elizabeth Christine, whom the world calls my
wife, weeps in solitude over the heavy chains which bind her. Not
one of them loves me ! not one believes in me, and in my future !"
The king, given up to these melancholy thoughts, did not hear a
knock at his door ; it was now repeated, and so loudly, that he
could not but hear it. He hastened to the door and opened it. Winter -
feldt was there, with a sealed paper in his hand, which he gave to
the king, begging him at the same time to excuse this interruption.
"It is the best thing you could have done, " said the king, enter-
ing his room, and signing to the general to follow him. "I was in
bad company, with my own sorrowful thoughts, and it is good that
you came to dissipate them. "
"This letter will know well how to do that," said Winterfeldt.
handing him the packet ; " a courier brought it to me from Berlin. ''
" Letters from my sister Wilhelmina, from Italy, " said the king,
joyfully breaking the seal, and unfolding the papers.
There were several sheets of paper closely written, and between
them lay a small, white packet. The king kept the latter in his
hand, and commenced reading eagerly. As he read, the dark, stern
expression gradually left his countenance. His brow was smooth
and calm, and a soft, beautiful smile played about his lips. He
THE BALL AT COUNT BRUHL'S. 147
finished the letter, and throwing it hastily aside, tore open the
package. In it was a laurel -branch, covered with beautiful leaves,
which looked as bright and green as if they had just been cut. The
king raised it, and looked at it tenderly.
"Ah, my friend," said he, with a beaming smile, "see how kind
Providence ie to mel On this painful day she sends me a glorious
token, a laurel-branch. My sister gathered it for me on my birth-
day. Do you know where, my friend? Bow your head, be all
attention ; for know that it is a branch from the laurel-tree that
grows upon Virgil's grave ! Ah, my friend, it seems to me as if the
great and glorious spirits of the olden ages were greeting me with
this laurel which came from the grave of one of their greatest poets.
My sister sends it to me, accompanied by some beautiful verses of
her own. An old fable says that these laurels grew spontaneously
upon Virgil's grave, and that they are indestructible. May this be
a blessed omen for me ! I greet you, Virgil's holy shadow ! I bow
down before you, and kiss in all humility your ashes, which have
been turned into laurels !"
Thus speaking, the king bowed his head, and pressed a fervent
kiss upon the laurel. He then handed it to Winterfeldt.
"Do likewise, my friend," said he; "your lips are worthy to
touch this holy branch, to inhale the odor of these leaves which
grew upon Virgil's grave. Kiss this branch and now let us swea*
to become worthy of this kiss ; swear that in this war, which will
soon begin, laurels shall either rest upon our brows or upon our
graves !"
Winterfeldt having sworn, repeated these words after him.
" Amen 1" said the king ; " God aad Virgil have heard us. "
CHAPTER XI.
THE BALL AT COUNT BRUHL'S.
CouOT BRUHL, first minister to the King of Saxony, gave to-day
a magnificent fte in his palace, in honor of his wife, whose birth-
day it was. The feast w?<s to be honored by the presence of the
King ol ! Poland, the Prince Elector of Saxony, Augustus III. , and
Maria Josephine, his wife. This was a favor which the proud queen
ftianted to her favorite for the first time. For she who had insti
tilted there the stern Spanish etiquette to which she had been accus-
tomed at the court of her father, Joseph I. , had never taken a meal
at the table of one of her subjects ; so holy did she consider her
royal person, that the ambassador* of foreign powers were r ot per
148 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
mitted to sit at the same table with her. Therefore, at every feast
at the court of Dresden, there was a small table set apart for the
royal family, and only the prime minister, Count Bruhl, was de-
serving of the honor to eat with the king and queen. This was a
custom which pleased no one so well as the count himself, for it
insured him from the danger that some one might approach the
royal pair, and inform them of some occurrence of which the count
wished them to remain in ignorance.
There were many slanderers in this wretched kingdom many
who were envious of the count's high position many who dared to
believe that the minister employed the king's favor for his own
good, and not for that of his country. They said that he alone lived
luxuriously in this miserable land, while the people hungered ; that
he spent every year over a million of thalers. They declared that
he had not less than five millions now lying in the banks of Rotter-
dam, Venice, and Marseilles ; others said that he had funds to the
amount of seven millions. One of these calumniators might possibly
approach the king's table and whisper into the royal ear his wicked
slanders ; one of these evil-doers might even have the audacity to
make his unrighteous complaints to the queen. This it was that
caused Count Bruhl to tremble ; this it was that robbed him of sleep
at night, of peace by day, this fear of a possible disgrace.
He was well acquainted witli the history of Count Lerma, minis-
ter to King Philip IV. of Spain. Lerma was also the ruler of a
king, and reigned over Spain, as Bruhl over Saxony. All had suc-
cumbed to his power and influence, even the royal family trembled
when he frowned, and felt themsleves honored by his smile. What
was it that caused the ruin of this all-powerful, irreproachable fa-
vorite? A little note which King Philip found between his napkin
one day, upon which was this address : " To Philip IV. , once King
of Spain, and Master of both the Indies, but now in the service of
Count Lerma !" This it was that caused the count's ruin ; Philip was
enraged by this note, and the powerful favorite fell into disgrace.
Count Bruhl knew this history, and was on his guard. He knew
that even the air which he breathed was poisoned by the malice of
his enemies ; that those who paused in the streets to greet him rev-
erentially when he passed in his gilded carriage, cursed him in
their inmost hearts ; that those friends who pressed his hand and
sung songs in his praise, would become his bitterest enemies so soon
as he ceased paying for their friendship with position, with pen-
sions, with honors, and with orders. He spent hundreds of thou-
sands yearly to gain friends and admirers, but still he was in constant
fear that some enemy would undermine him. This had indeed once
happened. During the time that the king's favor was shared equally
THE BALL AT COUNT BR^HL'S. 149
with Count Bruhl, Count Sulkovsky, and Count Hennicke, whilst
playing cards, a piece of gold was given to the king, upon which
was represented the crown of Poland, resting upon the shoulders of
three men, with the following inscription : " There are three of us,
two pages and one lackey !"
The King of Poland was as much enraged by this satirical piece
of gold as was the King of Spain by his satirical note. But Count
Bruhl succeeded in turning the king's anger upon the two other
shoulder-bearers of his crown. Counts Sulkovsky and Hennicke fell
.nto disgrace, and were banished from the court ; Count Bruhl re-
mained, and reigned as absolute master over Poland and Saxony !
But reigning, he still trembled, and therefore he favored the
queen's fancy for the strictest etiquette ; therefore, no one but Count
Bruhl was to eat at the royal table ; he himself took their napkins
from their plates and handed them to the royal couple ; no one was
to approach the sovereigns who was not introduced by the prime
minister, who was at once master of ceremonies, field-marshal, and
grand chamberlain, and received for each of these different posts
a truly royal salary. Etiquette and the fears of the powerful fa-
vorite kept the royal pair almost prisoners.
But for to-day etiquette was to be done away with ; the crowned
heads were to be gracious, so as to lend anew glory to their favorite's
house. To-day the count was fearless, for there was no danger of a
traitor being among his guests. His wife and himself had drawn
up the list of invitations. But still, as there might possibly be
those among them who hated the count, and would very gladly in-
jure him, he had ordered some of the best paid of his friends to
watch all suspicious characters, not to leave them alone for a mo-
ment, and not to overlook a single word of theirs. Of course, it
was understood that the count and his wife must remain continually
at the side of the king and queen, that all who wished to speak to
them must first be introduced by the host or hostess.
The count was perfectly secure to-day, and therefore gay and
happy. He had been looking at the different arrangements for this
feast, and he saw with delight that they were such as to do honor to
his house. It was to be a summer festival : the entire palace had
been turned into a greenhouse, that served only for an entrance tc
the actual scene of festivities. This was the immense garden. In
the midst of the rarest and most beautiful groups of flowers, im-
mense tents were raised ; they were of rich, heavy silk, and wern
festooned at the sides with golden cords and tassels. Apart from
these was a smaller one, which outshone them all in magnificence.
The roof of this tent rested upon eight pillars of gold ; it was com-
posed of a dark-red velvet, over which a slight gauze, worked with
150 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
gold and silver stars, was gracefully arranged. Upon the table be-
low this canopy, which rested upon a rich Turkish carpet, there was
a heavy service of gold, and the most exquisite Venetian glass ; the
immense pyramid in the middle of the table was a master- work of
Benevenuto Cellini, for which the count had paid in Rome one hun-
dred thousand thalers. There were but seven seats, for no one was tc
eat at this table but the royal pair, the prince-elector and his wife, the
Prince Xavier, and the Count and Countess Bruhl. This was a
new triumph that the count had prepared for himself ; he wished
his guests to see the exclusive royal position he occupied. And no
one could remain in ignorance of this triumph, for from every part
of the garden the royal tent could be seen, being erected upon a slight
eminence. It was like a scene from fairyland. There were rush-
ing cascades, beautiful marble statues, arbors and bowers, in which
were birds of eveiy color from every clime. Behind a group of
trees was a lofty structure of the purest marble, a shell, borne aloft
by gigantic Tritons and mermaids, in which there was room for
fifty musicians, who were to fill the air with sweet sounds, and
iiever to become so loud as to weary the ear or disturb conversation.
If the tents, the rushing cascades, the rare flowers, the many-
jolored birds, were a beautiful sight by daylight, how much more
entrancing it would be at night, when illuminated by thousands of
brilliant lamps !
The count, having taken a last look at the arrangements and seen
that they were perfect, now retired to his rooms, and there, witi
the aid of his twelve valets, he commenced his toilet. The countesft
had already been in the hands of her Parisian coiffeur for some hours.
The count wore a suit of blue velvet. The price of embroidery
in silver and pearls on his coat would have furnished hundreds of
wretched, starving families with bread. His diamond shoe-buckles
would almost have sufficed to pay the army, which had gone unpaid
for months. When his toilet was finished, he entered his study to
devote a few moments, at least, to his public duties, and to read
those letters which to-day's post had brought him from all parts of
the world, and which his secretary was accustomed to place in his
study at this hour. He took a letter, broke the seal hastily, and
skimming over it quickly, threw it aside and opened another, to
read anew the complaints, the prayers, the flatteries, the assurances
of love, of his correspondents. But none of them were calculated
to compel the minister's attention. He had long ago hardened his
heart against prayers and complaints ; as for flattery, he well knew
that he had to pay for it with pensions, with position, with titles,
with orders, etc. , etc. But it seemed as if the letters were not all
wf the usual sort, for the expression of indifference which had rested
THE BALL AT COUNT BRUHL'S. 151
upon his countenance while reading the others, had vanished and
given place to one of a very different character. This letter was
from Flemming, the Saxon ambassador in Berlin, and contained
strange, wild rumors. The King of Prussia, it seemed, had left
Berlin the day before, with all the princes and his staff officers, and
no one knew exactly where he was going ! Eumor said, though,
that he and his army were marching toward Saxony ! After read-
ing this, Count Briihl broke out into a loud laugh.
"Well," said he, "it must be granted that this little poet-king,
Frederick, has the art of telling the most delightful fairy-tales to
his subjects, and of investing every action of his with the greatest
importance. Ah, Margrave of Brandenburg ! we will soon be in a
tondition to take your usurped crown from your head. Parade as
much as you like make the world believe in you and your absurd
manoeuvres the day will soon come when she will but see in you a
poor knight with naught but his title of marquis. " With a trium-
phant smile he threw down the letter and grasped the next.
"Another from Flemrning?" said he. "Why, truly, the good
count is becoming fond of writing. Ah," said he, after reading it
carelessly, " more warnings ! He declares that the King of Prussia
intends attacking Saxony that he is now already at our borders.
He then adds, that the king is aware of the contract which we and
our friends have signed, swearing to attack Prussia simultaneously.
Well, my good Flemming, there is not much wisdom needed to tell
me that if the king knows of our contract, he will be all the more
on his guard, and will make preparations to defend himself ; for he
would not be so foolhardy as to attempt to attack our three united
armies. No, no. Our regiments can remain quietly in Poland
the seventeen thousand men here will answer all purposes.
"There is but one more of these begging letters," said he, open-
ing it, but throwing it aside without reading it. Out of it fell a
folded piece of paper. "Why, " said the count, taking it up, "there
are verses. Has Flemming's fear of the Prussian king made a poet
of him?" He opened it and read aloud :
" ' A piece of poetry which a friend, Baron Pollnitz, gave me yes-
terday. The author is the King of Prussia. '
" Well, " said the count, laughing, " a piece of poetry about me
the king does me great honor. Let us see ; perhaps these verses
can be read at the table to-day, and cause some amusement. 'Ode
to Count Bruhl, ' with this inscription : 'II ne faut pas s'inquieter
de I'avenir.' That is a wise philosophical sentence, which never-
theless did not spring from the brain of his Prussian majesty. And
now for the verses. " And straightening the paper before him, he
commenced
152 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Esclave malheureux de la haute fortune,
D'un roi trop indolent souverain absolu,
Surcharg6 de travaux dont le soin rimportune.
Brtthl, quitte des grandeurs 1'embarras superflu.
Au sein de ton opulence
Je vois le Dieu des ennuis,
Et dans ta magnificence
Le repos fait tes nuits.
" Descend de ce palais dont le superbe faite
Domine sur la Saxe, s'61event aux cieux.
D'ou ton esprit craintif conjure la tempete
Que souleve ala cour un peuple d'envieux :
Vois cette grandeur fragile
Et cesse enfln d'admirer
L'eclat pompeux d'une ville
Ou tout feint de fadorer." *
The count's voice had at first been loud, pathetic, and slightly
ironical, but it became gradually lower, and sank at last almost to
& whisper. A deep, angry red suffused his face, as he read on.
Again his voice became louder as he read the last two verses :
" Connaissez la Fortune inconstant* et legere;
La perfide se plait aux plus cruels revers,
On la voit abuser le sage, le vulgaire,
Jouer insolemment tout ce faible univers ;
Aujourd'hui c'est sur ma tete
Qu'elle r6pand des faveurs,
Des demain elle s'apprete
A les emporter ailleurs.
" Fixe-t-elle sur moi sa bizarre inconstance,
Mon cceur lui saura gr6 du bien qu'elle me fait
Veut-elle en d'autres lieux marquer sa bienveillanee,
Je lui remets ses dons sans chagrin, sans regret.
Plein d'une vertu plus forte
J 1 Spouse la pauvret6
Si pour dot elle m'apporte
L'honneur et la probite."
The paper fell from the count's hand and he looked at it thought-
fully. An expression of deep emotion rested upon his countenance,
which, in spite of his fifty years, could still be called handsome as
he repeated in a low, trembling voice :
"J'6pouse lapauvrete,
Si pour dot elle m'apporte
L'honneur et la probiteV'
The sun coming through the window rested upon his tall form,
causing the many jewels upon his garments to sparkle like stars on
* See note, page 571.
THE BALL AT COUNT BRtJHL'S. 153
the blue background, enveloping him in a sort of glory. He had
repeated for the third time, " J'epouse la pauvrete," when the door
leading to his wife's apartments was opened, and the countess
entered in the full splendor of her queenly toilet, sparkling with
jewels. The count was startled by her entrance, but he now broke
out into a loud, mocking laugh.
"Truly, countess," said he, "you could not have found a better
moment to interrupt me. For the last half hour my thoughts have
been given up to sentiment. Wonderful dreams have been chasing
each other through my brain. But you have again shown yourself
my good angel, Antonia, by dissipating these painful thoughts."
He pressed a fervent kiss upon her hand, then looking at her with
a beaming countenance, he said :
" How beautiful you are, Antonia ; you must have found that
mysterious river which, if bathed in, insures perpetual youth and
beauty."
"Ah!" said the countess, smiling, "all know that no one can
flatter so exquisitely as Count Bruhl. "
u But I am not always paid with the same coin, Antonia, " said
the count, earnestly. " Look at this poem, that the King of Prussia
has written of me. Truly, there is no flattery in it. "
While reading, the countess's countenance was perfectly clear ;
not the slightest cloud was to be seen upon her brow.
" Do you not think it a good poem?" said she, indifferently.
" Well, " said he, " I must acknowledge that there was a certain
fire in it that touched my heart. "
u I find it stupid, " said she, sternly. " There is but one thing in
it that pleases me, and that is the title 'U ne faut pas s'inquieter
de Vavenir. ' The little King of Prussia has done well to choose this
for his motto, for without it, it strikes me, his peace would be for-
ever gone, for his future will surely be a humiliating one. "
The count laughed.
" How true that is !" said he ; " and a just answer to his stupid
poem. Speak of something else. "
He tore the paper into small pieces, which, with a graceful bow,
he laid at the feet of the countess.
"A small sacrifice," said he, "which I bring to my goddess.
Tread upon it, and destroy the king's words with your fairy foot."
The countess obeyed him, laughingly.
"But now, count," said she, "we will, for a moment, speak of
graver things. I have received letters from London from our son.
Poor Henry is in despair, and he has requested me to intercede for
him. You were always very stern with him, my friend, therefore
he fears your anger, now that he has been a little imprudent."
11
154 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Well, what is it?" said the count; "I hope it is no duel, for
that would make me extremely angry. "
" It is nothing of that kind. His imprudence is of another sort.
He is in want of money. "
" Money !" said the count, in amazement ; " why, barely a month
ago, I sent him six hundred thousand thalers. That, and what he
took with him, three months ago, is quite a large sum, for it
amounts to more than a million of thalers. "
" But, my dear husband, in England every thing is so dear ! and
there, to move amongst and impress those rich lords, he must really
have more. It seems that our Charles Joseph has fallen in love with
a lady whom all London worships for her surpassing beauty. But
she, having a cold heart, will listen to no one. She laughs at those
who flatter her, and will receive no presents. She seemed an in-
vincible fortress, but our son, thanks to stratagem, has taken it. "
"I am curious to know how, " said the count, laughing.
" He played a game of ecarte with her. He played for notes to
the amount of ten pounds, and, at first, Charles won, much to the
displeasure of the proud lady, who did not relish being beaten, even
in a game of cards. Charles, perceiving this, played badly. The
lady won from him eighty thousand pounds. "
" Eighty thousand pounds, " cried the count, " why, that is a half
a million of thalers !"
"And do you mean to say," said the countess, angrily, "that
that is too much to gain the favcr of a beautiful lady?"
" No ! it is not too much ; but it is certainly enough. I hope, at
least, it was not in vain. "
" No, no ! and London is now raving about the intellectual, genial
and generous son of Count Briihl. I trust, count, that you instantly
sent him a check. "
" Yes, " said the count, shrugging his shoulders. " But, countess,
if the king were to hear this story, it would cause much evil; for
you know that he believes in economy ; luckily for me, he believes
me to be an economical man. Those enemies who would not
dare to accuse us, would have no fears of saying evil of our son ;
he will certainly hear this eighty-thousand-pound story."
" We will tell him ourselves, but say that the story is much ex-
aggerated. "
" What a wonderful woman you are, Antonia !" said her hus-
band ; "your co'.msel is wise ; we will follow it."
At this moment a slight knocking was heard at the door, and the
secretary entered with a sealed letter.
"A courier from Torgau just arrived with this from the com-
mandant. "
THE INTERRUPTED FEAST. 155
The count's brow became clouded.
"Business! forever business !" said he. "How dared you annoy
me with this, upon the birthday of my wife?"
" Pardon, your excellency ; but the courier brought with this
packet such strange news, that I ventured to disturb you, to com-
municate "
The beating of drums and the thunder of cannon interrupted
him.
" The king and queen are now entering their carriage, " cried the
count. " No more business to-day, my friend. It will keep till to-
morrow. Come, Antonia, we must welcome their majesties. " And
taking his wife's hand, he passed out of the study.
CHAPTER XII.
THE INTERRUPTED FEAST.
As the Count Bruhl and his wife entered the saloon, it almost
seemed as if they were the royal couple for whom all this company
was waiting. Every one of any rank or position in Dresden was
present. There were to be seen the gold and silver embroidered
uniforms of generals and ambassadors ; jewelled stars were sparkling
upon many breasts ; the proudest, loveliest women of the court,
bearing the noblest Saxon names, were there, accompanied by
princes, counts, dukes, and barons, and one and all were bowing
reverentially to the count and his wife. And now, at a sign from
the grand chamberlain, the pages of the countess, clothed in gar-
ments embroidered with silver and pearls, approached to carry her
train; beside them were the count's officers, followed by all the
noble guests. Thus they passed through the third room, where the
servants of the house, numbering upward of two hundred, were
placed in military order, and then on until they came to the grand
entrance, which had been turned into a floral temple.
The royal equipage was at the gate ; the host and hostess advanced
to welcome the king and queen, whose arrival had been announced
by the roar of cannon.
The king passed through the beautiful avenue, and greeted the
company placed on either side of him, gayly. The queen, sparkling
with diamonds, forcing herself also to smile, was at his side ; and
as their majesties passed on, saying here and there a kind, merry
word, it seemed as if the sun had just risen over all these noble,
rich, and powerful guests. This was reflected upon every counte-
nance.
156 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The gods had demanded from Olympus to favor these mortals
with their presence, and to enjoy themselves among them. And truly,
even a king might spend some happy hours in this delightful garden.
The air was so soft and mild, so sweet from the odor of many
flowers ; the rustling of the trees was accompanied by soft whispers
of music that seemed floating like angels' wings upon the air.
Every countenance was sparkling with happiness and content, and
the king could but take the flattering unction to his soul that all his
subjects were equally as happy as the elite by which he was sur-
rounded.
Pleased with this thought and delighted with all the arrange-
ments for the/^e, the king gave himself up to an enjoyment which,
though somewhat clouding his character as a deity, was immensely
gratifying to him.
He abandoned himself to the delights of the table ! He devoured
with a sort of amiable astonishment the rare and choice dishes
which, even to his experienced and pampered palate, appeared un-
fathomable mysteries ; luxuries had been procured, not only from
London and Paris, but from every part of the world. He delighted
himself with the gold and purple wines, whose vintage was un-
known to him, and whose odor intoxicated him more than the
perfume of flowers. He requested the count to give the name and
history of all these wines.
The count obeyed in that shy, reverential manner in which he
was accustomed to speak. He charmed him by relating the many
difficulties he had overcome to obtain this wine from the Cape of
Good Hope, which had to cross the line twice to arrive at its highest
perfection. He said that for two years he had been thinking of this
gloriously happy day, and had had a ship upon the sea for the pur-
pose of perfecting this wine. He bade the king notice the strangely
formed fish, which could only be obtained from the Chinese sea.
Then, following up the subject, he spoke of the peculiar and laugh-
able customs and habits of the Chinese, thus causing even the proud
queen to laugh at his humorous descriptions.
Count Briihl was suddenly interrupted in an unusual manner.
His secretary, Willmar, approached the royal table, and without
a word of excuse, without greeting the king, handed the count a
sealed package !
This was such a crime against courtly etiquette that the count,
from sheer amazement, made no excuses to the king ; he only cast .".
threatening look at the secretary. But as he encountered Willmar';*
pale, terrified countenance, a tremor seized him, and he cast an
eager glance upon the papers in his hand, which, no doubt, con
tained the key to all this mystery.
THE INTERRUPTED FEAST. 157
"They are from the commandant at Leipsic, " whispered the
secretary ; " I entreat your excellency to read them. "
Before the count had time, however, to open the dispatch, a still
stranger event took place.
The Prussian ambassador, who, upon the plea of illness, had de-
clined Count Bruhl's invitation, suddenly appeared in the garden,
accompanied by the four secretaries of his legation, and approached
the royal table. Upon his countenance there was no sign of sick
ness, but rather an expression of great joy.
As he neared the tent, the gay song and merry jest ceased.
Every eye was fixed inquiringly upon the individual who had dared to
disturb this fte by his presence. The music, which had before filled
the air with joyous sounds, was now playing a heart-breaking air.
Count Bruhl now arose and advanced. He greeted the Pussian
amabssador in a few cold, ceremonious words.
But Count Mattzahn's only answer to this greeting was a silent
bow. He then said, in a voice loud enough to be heard by the king
and queen .
" Count Bruhl, as ambassador of the King of Prussia, I request
you to demand an audience for me at once from the King of Saxony.
I have an important dispatch from my king. "
Count Bruhl, struck with terror, could only gaze at him, he had
not the strength to answer.
But King Augustus, rising from his seat, said :
" The ambassador of my royal brother can approach ; I consent to
grant him this audience ; it is demanded in so strange a manner, it
must surely have some important object. "
The count entered the royal tent.
"Is it your majesty's wish, " said Mattzahn, solemnly, "that all
these noble guests shall be witnesses? I am commanded by my royal
master to demand a private audience."
" Draw the curtain !" said the king.
Count Bruhl, with trembling fingers, drew the golden cord, and
the heavy curtains fell to the ground. They were now completely
separated from the guests.
" And now, count, " said the king, taking his seat by his proud,
silent queen, " speak. "
Bowing profoundly, Count Mattzahn drew a dispatch from his
pocket, and read in a loud, earnest voice.
It was a manifesto from the King of Prussia, written by himself
and addressed to all the European courts. In it, Frederick denied
being actuated by any desire of conquest or gain, but declared that
he was compelled to commence this war to which Austria had pro
voked him by her many and prolonged insults.
158 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
There was a pause when the count finished reading. Upon the
gentle, amiable countenance of the king there was now an angry
look. The queen was indifferent, cold, and haughty ; she seemed
to have paid no attention whatever to Count Mattzahn, but, turning
to the princess at her side, she asked a perfectly irrelevant question,
which was answered in a whisper.
Countess Briihl dared not raise her eyes ; she did not wish her
faithless lover, Count Mattzahn, whose cunning political intrigues
she now perfectly understood, to see her pain and confusion. The
prince-elector, well aware of the importance of this hour, stood at
the king's side ; behind him was Count Briihl, whose handsome,
sparkling countenance was now deadly pale.
Opposite to this agitated group, stood the Prussian ambassador,
whose haughty, quiet appearance presented a marked contrast. His
clear, piercing glance rested upon each one of them, and seemed to
fathom every thought of their souls. His tall, imposing form was
raised proudly, and there was an expression of the noblest satisfac-
tion upon his countenance. After waiting some time in vain for an
answer, he placed the manifesto before the king.
"With your majesty's permission, I will now add a few words,"
said he.
" Speak !" said the king, laconically.
" His majesty, my royal master, " continued Count Mattzahn, in
a loud voice, " has commissioned me to give your majesty the most
quieting assurances, and to convince you that his march through
Saxony has no purpose inimical to you, but that he only uses it as a
passway to Bohemia. "
The king's countenance now became dark and stern, even the
queen lost some of her haughty indifference.
"How?" said the king ; "Frederick of Prussia does us the honor
to pass through our land without permission? He intends coming
to Saxony?"
"Sire," said Mattzahn, with a slight smile, "his majesty is
already there ! Yesterday his army, divided into three columns,
passed the Saxon borders !"
The king rose hastily from his seat. The queen was deadly pale,
her lips trembled, but she remained silent, and cast a look of bitter
hatred upon the ambassador of her enemy.
Count Briihl was leaning against his chair, trembling with
terror, when the king turned to him.
"I ask my prime minister if he knows how far the King of
Prussia has advanced into Saxony?"
" Sire, I was in perfect ignorance of this unheard-of event. The
King of Prussia wishes to surprise us in a manner worthy of the
THE INTERRUPTED FEAST. 159
most skilful magician. Perhaps it is one of those April jests which
Frederick II. is so fond of practising. "
" Your excellency can judge for yourself, " said Count Mattzahn,
earnestly, "whether the taking of towns and fortresses is to be con-
sidered a jest. For, if I am rightly informed, you have this day
received two dispatches, informing you of my royal master's line of
march. "
"How?" said the king, hastily ; "you were aware of this, count,
and I was not informed? You received important dispatches, and I
was not notified of it?"
" It is true, " said the count, much embarrassed. " I received two
couriers. The dispatches of the first were handed to me the same
moment your majesties entered my house ; I received the other just
as Count Mattzahn arrived. I have, therefore, read neither. "
" With your majesty's permission, " said Count Mattzahn, " I will
inform you of their contents. "
" You will be doing me a great service, " said the king, earnestly.
"The first dispatch, sire, contained the news that his majesty the
King of Prussia had taken without resistance the fortresses of Torgau
and Wittenberg !"
A hollow groan escaped the king as he sank in his chair. The
queen became paler than before.
"What more?" said the king, gloomily.
"The second dispatch," continued Count Mattzahn, smilingly,
" informed his excellency Count Bruhl that the King of Prussia, my
noble and victorious master, was pressing forward, and had also
taken Leipsic without the slightest resistance !"
"How !" said the king, "he is in Leipsic?"
" Sire, I think he was there, " said Count Mattzahn, laughing ;
" for it seems that the Prussians, led by their king, have taken the
wings of the morning. Frederick was in Leipsic when the courier
left he must now be on his way to Dresden. But he has commis-
sioned me to say that his motive for passing through Saxony is to
see and request your majesty to take a neutral part in this war be-
tween Austria and Prussia. "
"A neutral part!" said the king, angrily, "when my land is in-
vaded without question or permission, and peace broken in this in-
explicable manner. Have you any other message, count?"
" I have finished, sire, and humbly ask if you have any answer
for my sovereign ?"
" Tell the king, your master, that I will raise my voice through-
out the land of Germany to complain of this unheard-of and arbi-
trary infringement of the peace. At the throne of the German
emperor I will demand by what right the King of Prussia dares to
160 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
enter Saxony with his army and take possession of my cities. You
can depart, sir ; I have no further answer for his majesty !"
The count, bowing reverentially to the king and queen, left thq
royal tent.
Every eye was fixed upon the prime minister. From him alone,
who was considered the soul of the kingdom of Saxony, help and
counsel was expected. All important questions were referred to
him, and all were now eagerly looking for his decision. But the
powerful favorite was in despair. He knew how utterly impossible
it was to withstand the King of Prussia's army. Every arrange-
ment for this war had been made on paper, but in reality little had
been accomplished. The army was not in readiness ! The prime
minister had been in want of a few luxuries of late, and had, there-
fore, as he believed there would be no war until the following
spring, reduced it. He knew how little Saxony was prepared to
battle against the King of Prussia's disciplined troops, and the am-
bassador's friendly assurances did not deceive him.
"Well, count," said the king, after a long pause, "how is this
strange request of Frederick II. , that we should remain neutral, to
be answered?"
Before the count was able to answer, the queen said, in a loud
voice :
" By a declaration of war, my husband ! This is due to your
honor. We have been insulted ; it therefore becomes you to throw
down the gauntlet to your presumptuous adversary. "
" We will continue this conversation in my apartments, " said the
king, rising ; " this is no place for it. Our beautiful feast has been
disturbed in a most brutal manner. Count Bruhl, notify the differ-
ent ambassadors that, in an hour, I will receive them at my palace. "
"This hour is mine!" thought the queen, as she arose; "in it I
will stimulate my husband's soft and gentle heart to a brave, war-
like decision ; he will yield to my prayers and tears. " She took the
king's arm with a gay smile, and left the tent, followed by the
princes, and the host and hostess.
Silently they passed the festive tables, from which the guests had
risen to greet them. The courtiers sought to read in their counte-
nances the solution of that riddle which had occupied them since
the arrival of the Prussian ambassador, and about which they had
been anxiously debating.
But, upon the queen's countenance there was now her general
look of indifference. It is true, the king was not smiling as was his
wont when amongst his subjects, but his pleasant countenance be-
trayed no fear or sorrow. The queen maintained her exalted bear-
ing ; nothing had passed to bow her proud head.
THE ARCHIVES AT DRESDEN. 161
After the royal guests had left, Count Bruhl returned. He also
had regained his usual serenity. With ingenious friendliness he
turned to his guests, and while requesting them, in a flattering
manner, to continue to grace his wife's fete by their presence, de-
manded for himself leave of absence. Then passing on, he whis-
pered here and there a few words to the different ambassadors.
They and the count then disappeared.
The fete continued quietly ; the music recommenced its gay,
melodious sounds, the birds carolled their songs, and the flowers
were as beautiful and as sweet as before. The jewels of the cour-
tiers sparkled as brilliantly. Their eyes alone were not so bright,
and the happy smile had left their lips. They were all weighed
down by a presentiment that danger was hovering around them.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE ARCHIVES AT DRESDEN.
COUNT MATTZAHN'S prophecy came true. The King of Prussia
came to Dresden, and there, as in every other part of Saxony, found
no resistance. Fear and terror had gone before him, disarming all
opposition. The king and prince-elector were not accustomed to
have a will of their own ; and Count Bruhl, the favorite of fortune,
showed himself weak and helpless in the hour of adversity. It
needed the queen's powerful energy, and the forcible representa-
tions of the French ambassador, Count Broglio, to arouse them from
their lethargy ; and what Count Broglio 's representations, and the
queen's prayers and tears commenced, hatred finished. Count
Bruhl' s sinking courage rose at the thought of the possibility of still
undermining the King of Prussia, and putting an end to his victo-
rious march. It was only necessary to detain him, to prevent him
from reaching the Bohemian borders, until the Austrian army came
to their assistance, until the French troops had entered and taken
possession of Prussia. Therefore, Count Bruhl sent courier after
courier to Saxony's allies, to spread her cry for help to every friendly
court. He then collected the army, ordered them to camp at Pirna,
which was very near the boundary of Bohemia, and, as it was
guarded on one side by the Elbe, and on the other by high rocks,
appeared perfectly secure. When these preparations were com-
menced, the count's courage rose considerably, and he determined
to prove himself a hero, and to give the Saxon army the inspiring
consciousness that, in the hour of danger, their king would be in
their midst.
162 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The king therefore left for the fortress of Konigstein, accompa
nied by Count Bruhl, leaving the army, consisting of about seven-
teen thousand men, to follow under the command of General
Rutrosky, and to encamp at the foot of Konigstein. Arrived at
Konigstein, where they thought themselves perfectly secure, they
gave themselves up to the free and careless life of former days. They
had only changed their residence, not their character ; their dreams
were of future victories, of the many provinces they would take
from the King of Prussia ; and with this delightful prospect the old
gay, luxurious, and wanton life was continued. What difference
did it make to Count Bruhl that the army was only provided with
commissary stores for fourteen days, and that this time was almost
past, and no way had been found to furnish them with additional
supplies. The King of Prussia had garrisoned every outlet, and
only the King of Saxony's forage- wagon was allowed to pass.
Frederick knew better than the Saxon generals the fearful, in-
vincible enemy that was marching to the camp of Pirna. What
were the barricades, the palisades, and ambushes, by which the
camp was surrounded, to this enemy? This foe was in the camp,
not outside of it he had no need to climb the barricades he came
hither flying through the air, breathing, like a gloomy bird of
death, his horrible cries of woe. This enemy was hunger enervat-
ing, discouraging, demoralizing hunger !
The fourteen days had expired, and in the camp of Pirna lan-
guished seventeen thousand men ! The bread rations became smaller
and smaller ; but the third part of the usual meat ration was given ;
the horses' food also was considerably shortened. Sorrow and star-
vation reigned in the camp. Why should this distress Count Bruhl ?
He lived in his usual luxurious splendor, with the king. Looking
out from his handsome apartments upon the valley lying at his feet,
he saw on a little meadow by which the Elbe was flowing, herds of
cows and calves, sheep and beeves, which were there to die, like the
Saxon soldiers, for their king. These herds were for the royal table ;
there was, therefore, no danger that the enemy visiting the army
should find its way to the fortress. It was also forbidden, upon
pain of death, to force one of these animals intended for the royal
table, from their noble calling, and to satisfy therewith the hungry
soldiers. Count Bruhl could therefore wait patiently the arrival of
the Austrian army, which was already in motion, under the com-
mand of General Brown.
While the King of Poland was living gay and joyous in the for-
tress of Konigstein, the queen with the princes of the royal house
had remained in Dresden; and though she knew her husband's
irresolute character, and knew that the King of Prussia, counting
THE ARCHIVES AT DRESDEN. 163
upon thici, was corresponding with him, endeavoring to persuade
him to neutrality, still she had no fears of her husband succumbing
to his entreaties. For was not Count Briihl, the bitter, irreconcila-
ble enemy of Prussia, at his side? and had not the king said to her,
in a solemn manner, before leaving : " Better that every misfortune
come upon us than to take the part of our enemies !' The queen,
therefore, felt perfectly safe upon this point. She remained in
Dresden for two reasons : first, to watch the King of Prussia, and
then to guard the archives those archives which contained the most
precious treasures of Saxon diplomacy the most important secrets
of their allies. These papers were prized more highly by the queen
than all the crown jewels now lying in their silver casket ; and
though the keeping of the latter was given over to some one else, no
one seemed brave enough to shield the former. No one but herself
should guard these rich treasures. The state archives were placed
in those rooms of the palace which had but one outlet, and that
leading into one of the queen's apartments. In this room she re-
mained she took her meals, worked, and slept there there she
received the princes and the foreign ambassadors always guarding
the secret door, of which she carried the key fastened to a gold
chain around her neck. But still the queen was continually in fear
her treasure would be torn from her, and the King of Prussia's
seeming friendliness was not calculated to drive away this anxiety.
It is true the king had sent her his compliments by Marshal Keith,
with the most friendly assurances of his affection, but notwith-
standing this, the chancery, the colleges, and the mint department
had been closed ; all the artillery and ammunition had been taken
from the Dresden arsenal and carried to Magdeburg ; some of the
oldest and worthiest officers of the crown had been dismissed ; and
the Swiss guard, intended for service in the palace, had been dis-
armed. All this agreed but badly with the king's quieting assur-
ances, and was calculated to increase the hatred of his proud enemy.
She had, nevertheless, stifled her anger so far as to invite the King
of Prussia, who was staying in the palace of the Countess Mori-
zinska, not far from his army, to her table.
Frederick had declined this invitation. He remained quietly in
the palace, whose doors were open to all, giving audience to all
who desired it, listening to their prayers, and granting their wishes.
The Queen of Poland heard this with bitter anger; and the
more gracious the King of Prussia showed himself to the Saxons,
the more furious and enraged became the heart of this princess.
" He will turn our people from their true ruler, " said she to
Countess Ogliva, her first maid of honor, who was sitting at her
side upon a divan placed before the princess's door. "This hypo-
164 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
critical affability will only serve to gain the favor of our subjects,
and turn them from their duty. "
" It has succeeded pretty well, " said the countess, sighing. " The
Saxon nobility are continually in the antechamber of this heretical
king ; and yesterday several of the city authorities, accompanied by
the foreign ambassadors, waited upon him, and he received them."
" Yes, he receives every one ; he gives gay balls every evening,
at which he laughs and jokes merrily. He keeps open house, and
the poor people assemble there in crowds to see him eat. " Maria
Josephine sighed deeply. " I hate this miserable, changeable peo-
ple !" murmured she.
" And your majesty does well, " said the countess, whose wrinkled,
yellow countenance was now illuminated by a strange fire. " The
anger of God will rest upon this heretical nation that has turned
from her salvation, and left the holy mother church in haughty
defiance. The King of Poland cannot even appoint true Catholic-
Christians as his officers every position of any importance is occu-
pied by heretics. But the deluge will surely come again upon this
sinful people and destroy them."
The queen crossed herself, and prayed in a low voice.
The countess continued : "This Frederick stimulates these hereti-
cal Saxons in their wicked unbelief. He, who it is well known,
laughs and mocks at every religion, even his own attended, yes-
terday, the Protestant church, to show our people that he is a pro-
tector of that church. "
"Woe, woe to him !" said the queen.
"With listening ear he attended to his so-called preacher's ser-
mon, and then loudly expressed his approval of it, well knowing
that this preacher is a favorite of heretics in Dresden. This cunning
king wished to give them another proof of his favor. Does your
majesty wish to know of the present he made this preacher?"
"What?" said the queen, with a mocking laugh. "Perhaps a
Bible, with the marginal observations of his profligate friends,
Voltaire and La Mettrie?"
" No, your majesty ; the king sent this learned preacher a dozen
bottles of champagne !"
" He is a blasphemous scoffer, even wtth that which he declares
holy. But punishment will overtake him. Already the voice of my
exalted nephew, the Emperor of Germany, is to be heard through-
out the entire land, commanding the King of Prussia to return at
once to his own kingdom, and to make apologies to the King of
Poland for his late insults. It is possible that, in his haughty
pride, Frederick will take no notice of this command. But it will
be otherwise with the generals and commandants of this usurper.
THE ARCHIVES AT DRESDEN. 165
They have been commanded by the emperor to leave their impious
master, and not to be the sharers of his frightful crime. "
"I fear, "said Countess Ogliva, sighing, and raising her eyes
heavenward " I fear they will not listen to the voice of our good
emperor. "
"But they will hear the voice of his cannon," cried the queen,
impetuously ; " the thunder of our artillery and the anger of God
will annihilate them, and they will fall to the ground as if struck
by lightning before the swords blessed by our holy priests. "
The door of the antechamber was at this moment opened vio-
lently, and the queen's chamberlain appeared upon its threshold.
" Your majesty, a messenger from the King of Prussia requests
n audience, " said he.
The queen's brow became clouded, and she blushed with anger.
"Tell this messenger that I am not in a condition to receive his
visit, and that he must therefore impart to you his message. "
"It is, no doubt, another of his hypocritical, friendly assurances, "
said the queen, as the chamberlain left. " He has, no doubt, some
evil design, and wishes to soothe us before he strikes. "
The chamberlain returned, but his countenance was now white
with terror.
"Well !" said the queen, "what is this message?"
" Ah, your majesty, " stammered the trembling courtier, " my lips
would not dare to repeat it ; and I could never find the courage to
tell you what he demands. "
"What he demands !" repeated the queen ; "has it come to that,
that a foreign prince commands in our land? Go, countess, and
in my name, fully empowered by me, receive this King of Prussia's
message ; then return, and dare not keep the truth from me. "
Countess Ogliva and the chamberlain left the royal apartment,
and Maria Josephine was alone. And now, there was no necessity
of guarding this mask of proud quietude and security. Alone, with
her own heart, the queen's woman nature conquered. She did not
now force back the tears which streamed from her eyes, nor did she
repress the sighs that oppressed her heart. She wept, and groaned,
and trembled. But hearing a step in the antechamber, she dried
her eyes, and again put on the proud mask of her royalty. It was
the countess returning. Slowly and silently she passed through the
apartment. Upon her colorless countenance there was a dark, angry
expression, and a scoffing smile played about her thin, pale lips.
"The King of Prussia," said she, in a low, whispering voice, as
she reached the queen, " demands that the key to the state archives
be delivered at once to his messenger, Major von Vangenheim. "
The queen raised herself proudly from her seat.
166 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Say to this Major von Vangenheim that he will neve? 1 receive
this key !" said she, commandingly.
The countess bowed, and left the room.
" He has left, " said she, when she returned to the queen ; " thougb
he said that he or another would return. "
" Let us now cor suit as to what is to be done, " said the queen.
Send for Father Gaarini, so that we may receive his advice."
Thanks to the queen's consultation with her confessor and her
maid of honor, the King of Prussia's messenger, when he returned,
was not denied an audience. This time, it was not Major von Van-
genheim, but General von Wylich, the Prussian commandant at
Dresden, whom Frederick sent.
Maria Josephine received him in the room next to the archives,
sitting upon a divan, near to the momentous door. She listened
with a careless indifference, as he again demanded, in the king's
name, the key to the state archives.
The queen turned to her maid of honor.
"How is it that you are so negligent, countess?" said she ; "did
I not tell you to answer to the messenger of the king, that I would
give this key, which is the property of the Prince- Elector of Saxony,
and which he intrusted to me, to no one but my husband ?"
"I had the honor to fulfil your majesty's command," said the
countess, respectfully.
" How is it, then, " said she, turning to General von Wylich,
" that you dare to come again with this request, which I have al-
ready answered?"
" Oh, may your majesty graciously pardon me, " cried the general,
deeply moved ; " but his majesty, my king and master, has given
me the sternest commands to get the key, and bring him the papers.
I am therefore under the sad necessity to beseech your majesty to
agree to my master's will."
" Never !" said the queen, proudly. " That door shall never be
opened ; you shall never enter it. "
" Be merciful. I dare not leave here without fulfilling my mas-
ter's commands. Have pity on my despair, your majesty, and give
me the key to that door. "
" Listen ! I shall not give you the key, " said the queen, white
and trembling with anger; "and if you open the door by force, I
will cover it with my body ; and now, sir, if you wish to murder
the Queen of Poland, open the door. " And raising her proud, im-
posing form, the queen placed herself before the door.
" Mercy ! mercy ! queen, " cried the general ; " do not force me to
do something terrible ; do not make me guilty of a crime against
your sacred royalty. I dare not return to my king without these
THE ARCHIVES AT DRESDEN. 167
papers. I therefore implore your majesty humbly, upon my knees,
to deliver this key to me. "
He fell upon his knees before the queen, humbly supplicating her
to repent her decision.
" I will not give it to you, " said she, with a triumphant smile.
" I do not move from this door ; it shall not be opened. "
General Wylich rose from his lowly position. He was pale, but
there was a resolute expression upon his countenance. Looking
upon it, you could not but see that he was about to do something
extremely painful to his feelings.
"Queen of Poland," said he, in a loud, firm -voice, "I am com-
manded by my king to bring to him the state archives. Below, at
the castle gate, wagons are in attendance to receive them ; they are
accompanied by a detachment of Prussian soldiers. I have only to
open that window, sign to them, and they are here. In the ante-
chamber are the four officers who came with me ; by opening the
door, they will be at my side. "
"What do you mean by this?" said the queen, in a faltering
voice, moving slightly from the door.
" I mean, that at any price, I must enter that room. If the key
is not given to me, I will call upon my soldiers to break down the
door ; as they have learned to tear down the walls of a fortress, it
will be an easy task ; that if the Queen of Poland does not value her
high position sufficiently to guard herself against any attack, I will
be compelled to lay hands upon a royal princess, and lead her by
force from that door, which my soldiers must open ! But, once
more, I bend my knee, and implore your majesty to preserve me
from this crime, and to have mercy on me. "
And again he fell upon his knees supplicating for pity.
"Be merciful ! be merciful !" cried the queen's confessor and the
Countess Ogliva, who both knew that General Wylich would do all
that he had said, and had both fallen on their knees, adding their
entreaties to his. " Your majesty has done all that human power
can do It is now time to guard your holy form from insult. Have
mercy on your threatened royalty. "
" No, no !" murmured the queen, " I cannot ! I cannot ! Death
would be sweet in comparison to this humiliating defeat. "
The queen's confessor, Father Guarini, now rose from his knees,
and, approaching the queen, he said, in a solemn, commanding
voice:
"My daughter, by virtue of my profession, as a servant of the
holy mother church, to whom is due obedience and trust, I com-
mand you to deliver up to this man the key of this door."
The queen's head fell upon her breast, and hollow, convulsive
168 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
groans escaped her. Then, with a hasty movement, she severed the
key from her chain.
" I obey you, my father, " said she. " There is the key, general ;
this room can now be entered. "
General Wylich took the key, kissing reverentially the hand that
gave it to him. He then said to her, in a voice full of emotion :
"I have but this last favor to ask of your majesty, that you will
now leave this room, so that my soldiers may enter it. "
Without answering, the queen, accompanied by her confessor
and maid of honor, left the apartment.
"And now," said the queen to Countess Ogliva, as she entered
her reception-room, "send messengers at once to all the foreign
ambassadors, and tell them I command their presence. "
CHAPTER XIV.
SAXONY HUMILIATED.
A HAT.F an hour later the ambassadors of France, Austria, Hol-
land, Russia, and Sweden, were assembeled in the queen's reception-
room. The queen was there, pale, and trembling with anger. With
the proud pathos of misfortune, and humiliated royalty, she apprised
them of the repeated insults she had endured, and commanded them
to write at once to their different courts, imploring their rulers to
send aid to her sorely threatened kingdom.
" And if these princes, " said she, impetuously, help us to battle
against this usurper, in defending us they will be defending their
own rights and honor. For my cause is now the cause of all kings ;
for if my crown falls, the foundation of their thrones will also give
way. For this little Margrave of Brandenburg, who calls himself
King of Prussia, will annihilate us all if we do not ruin him in ad-
vance. I, for my part, swear him a perpetual resistance, a perpetual
enmity ! I will perish willingly in this fight if only my insults are
revenged and my honor remains untarnished. Hasten, therefore,
to acquaint your courts with all that has occurred here. "
"I will be the first to obey your majesty," said the French am-
bassador, Count Broglio. approaching the queen. "I will repeat
your words to my exalted master ; I will portray to your majesty's
lovely daughter, the Dauphine of France, the sufferings her royal
mother has endured, and I know she will strain every nerve to send
you aid. With your gracious permission, I will now take my leave,
for to-day I start for Paris."
SAXONY HUMILIATED. 169
"To Paris!" cried the queen ; "would you leave my court in the
hour of misfortune?"
" I would be the last to do this, unless forced by necessity, " said
the count ; " but the King of Prussia has just dismissed me, and sent
me my passport !"
" Your passport ! dismissed you !" repeated the queen. " Have I
heard aright? Do you speak of the King of Prussia? Has he then
made himself King of Saxony?"
Before any one had time to answer the queen's painful questions,
the door was opened, and the king's ministers entered ; beside them
was to be seen the pale, terrified countenance of Count Leuke, the
king's chamberlain.
Slowly and silently these gentlemen passed through the room and
approached the queen.
" We have come, " said Count Hoymb, bowing lowly, " to take
leave of your majesty. "
The queen fell slightly back, and gazed in terror at the four min-
isters standing before her with bowed heads.
"Has the king, my husband, sent for you? Are you come to
take leave of me before starting to Konigstein?"
" No, your majesty ; we come because we have been dismissed
from our offices by the King of Prussia. "
The queen did not answer, but gazed wildly at the sad counte-
nances about her ; and now she fixed a searching glance upon the
royal chamberlain.
" Well, and you ?" said she. " Have you a message for me from
my husband? Are you from Konigstein?"
" Yes, your majesty, I come from Konigstein. But I am not a
bearer of pleasant news. I am sent to Dresden by the King of
Poland to request of the King of Prussia passports for himself and
Count Bruhl. The king wishes to visit Warsaw, and is therefore
desirous of obtaining these passports. "
"Ah!" said the queen, sighing, "to think that my husband re-
quires permission to travel in his own kingdom, and that he must
receive it from our enemy ! Well, have you obeyed the king's com-
mand, Count Leuke? Have you been to the King of Prussia and
received the passports ?"
" I was with the King of Prussia, " said the count, in a faltering
voice.
"Well, what more?"
" He refused me ! He does not give his consent to this visit. "
" Listen, listen !" said the queen, wildly ; " hear the fresh insult
thrown at our crown ! Can God hear this and not send His light-
ning to destroy this heretical tyrant? Ah, I will raise my voice ; it
170 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
shall be a cry of woe and lamentation, and shall resound throughout
all Europe ; it shall reach every throne, and every one shall hear my
voice calling out : ' Woe ! woe ! woe to us all ; our thrones are tot-
tering, they will surely fall if we do not ruin this evil-doer who
threatens us all !' "
With a fearful groan, the queen fell fainting into the arms of
Countess Ogliva. But the sorrows and humiliations of this day
were not the only ones experienced by Maria Josephine from her
victorious enemy.
It is true her cry for help resounded throughout Europe. Prepa-
rations for war were made in many places, but her allies were not
able to prevent the fearful blow that was to be the ruin of Saxony.
Though the Dauphine of France, daughter of the wretched Maria
Josephine, and the mother of the unfortunate King of France, Louis
XVI. , threw herself at the feet of Louis XV. , imploring for help
for her mother's tottering kingdom, the French troops came too late
to prevent this disaster. Even though Maria Theresa, Empress of
Austria, and niece to the Queen of Saxony, as her army were in
want of horses, gave up all her own to carry the cannon. The Aus-
trian cannon was of as little help to Saxony as the French troops.
Starvation was a more powerful ally to Prussia than Austria,
France, Russia, and Sweden were to Saxony, for in the Saxon camp
also a cry of woe resounded.
It was hunger that compelled the brave Saxon General Rutrosky
to capitulate. It was the same cause that forced the King of Saxony
to bind himself to the fearful stipulations which the victorious
King of Prussia, after having tried in vain for many years to gain
an ally in Saxony, made.
In the valley of Lilienstein the first of that great drama, whose
scenes are engraved in blood in the book of history, was performed,
and for whose further developments many sad, long years were
necessary.
In the valley of Lilienstein the Saxon army, compelled to it by
actual starvation, gave up their arms ; and as these true, brave sol-
diers, weeping over their humiliation, with one hand laid down
their weapons, the other was extended toward their enemies for
bread.
Lamentation and despair reigned in the camp at Lilienstein, and
there, at a window of the catstle of Konigstein, stood the Prince-
Elector of Saxony, with his favorite Count Brtihl, witnesses to their
misery.
After these fearful humiliations, by which Frederick punished
the Saxons for their many intrigues, by which he revenged himself
for their obstinate enmity, their proud superiority after these
SAXONY HUMILIATED. 171
humiliations, after their complete defeat, the King of Prussia was
no longer opposed to the King of Saxony's journey. He sent him
the desired passports ; he even extended their number, and not only
sent one to the king and to Count Briihl, but also to the Countess
Bruhl, with the express command to accompany her husband. He
also sent a pass to Countess Ogliva, compelling this bigoted woman
to leave her mistress.
And when the queen again raised her cry of woe, to call her allies
to her aid, the King of Prussia answered her with the victorious
thunder of the battle of Losovitz, the first battle fought in this war,
and in which the Prussians, led by their king, performed wonders
of bravery, and defeated for the third time the tremendous Austrian
army, under the command of General Brown.
"Never," says Frederick, "since I have had the honor to com-
mand the Prussian troops, have they performed such deeds of daring
as to-day. "
The Austrians, in viewing these deeds, cried out :
"We have found again the old Prussians !"
And still they fought so bravely, that the Prussians remarked in
amazement :
" These cannot be the same Austrians !"
This was the first act of that great drama enacted by the Enro
pean nations, and of which King Frederick II. was the hero.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
THE MAIDEN OF BRUNEN.
THE sun was just setting, throwing its crimson glow upon the
waters of the Rhine, which appeared to flow like a river of blood
between the green meadows on either side of it.
From the little village of Brunen, whose red chimneys were visi-
ble above a group of oak and beech trees, the sound of the evening
bell was heard, reminding the pious peasants, engaged in cutting
and garnering their golden corn, of the hour for devotion.
With the sweet sounds of the bell mingled the joyous mountain
yodel of the cowherd, who had just descended the little hill yonder,
with his herd straying here and there, in picturesque confusion.
Upon the green meadow in the foreground, the flocks of the village
were pasturing, strictly guarded by a large white dog, whose stern,
martial glance not the slightest movement among his army contrary
to discipline, escaped. As soon as one of the sheep committed to
his care left the fold and approached the field where the reapers
were mowing the corn, which was bound at once in sheaves by busy
maidens, the stern Phylax barking, growling, and snarling, rushed
after the audacious wanderer who sought to appease the anger of his
inexorable overseer by a speedy return.
The old shepherd, sitting not far off upon a little wooden stool,
with his long, silver hair falling about him, was engaged in weav-
ing a graceful basket of some meadow roots ; at every bark of his
Phylax he looked up and smiled his approval at his faithful steward ;
occasionally he gazed across the meadow at the reapers and busy
maidens, then there came upon his venerable old countenance an
expression of great interest. And well he might be pleased with
what he saw there ; for that tall, sturdy youth, standing in the
wagon, waiting with outstretched arms to catch the sheaves which
are skilfully thrown him ; that youth with the bright rosy face, the
sparkling eye, the full red lip, upon which there is always a merry
smile, the ivory white teeth that youth is his beloved son, Charles
THE MAIDEN OF BRUNEN. 173
Henry. And yonder maiden, not far from the wagon, binding up
the corn, in whose tall, proud form, in spite of her plain peasant-
gown, there is something imposing ; that maiden with the youth-
ful, blooming, lovely face, is his son's betrothed ; whom all in the
village called the beautiful Anna Sophia, and for whose love Charles
Henry was envied by all the village boys. It is true she was a pen-
niless orphan, but in her busy, industrious hands there was a better
and surer treasure than in a purse of gold, and her ability and good-
ness would be a much better dowry to her husband ; for Anna Sophia
Detzloff could do almost every thing, and the villagers knew not
whether to respect her more for her great knowledge, or love her
more for her kind, good heart. Anna could read and write like a
school-teacher. She wrote every letter which the women of the
village sent to their sons and husbands, now far away with the
King of Prussia's army, and read to them the answers ; and in so
beautiful and winning a manner did she read them, that to the
happy women it almost seemed as if they were hearing the voices
of their loved ones. But, notwithstanding her learning, she was
well versed in every sort of work that beseemed a woman. None
in the village could prepare more delightful dishes than she ; no one
could equal her beautiful, rapid sewing and knitting. Anna Sophia
learned all these things from her mother, who had lived and worked
for many long years in Brunen. Her father had been the village
school-teacher, and it was owing to his diligence and activity that
the women could now receive letters from their sons and husbands.
He had taught the boys to read and write ; and though the girls did
not learn, the example of his daughter showed that it was not owing
to inability, but for a want of time and desire. From her mother,
Anna had learned all her womanly duties. She had taught her to
be amiable, ready with help for all, kind and sympathetic, and to
strive by her good deeds to gain the love of her fellow-creatures.
A joyous family had lived in the little village school-house ;
though they had poverty and want to fight against, these three happy
human beings did not consider this a misfortune, but a necessary
evil of life. They loved each other, and when the parents looked
upon the lovely, rosy countenance of their only child, they did not
perceive that their bread was hard and heavy, they did not miss the
butter and cheese without which the rich villagers seldom took a
meal. And when, on Sundays, Anna went with her parents to
church, in the faded red skirt, neat white body, and black bodice,
which had been her mother's wedding-dress, she heard the boys
whisper amongst themselves about her beauty and sweetness, and
casting her eyes down with timid blushes she did not perceive the
jeering smiles of the other girls who, though not as pretty, were
174 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
proud that they were richer and better dressed than the school-
teacher's daughter.
But Death, in his inexorable manner, had disturbed this modest
happiness. In a year he took the schoolmaster Detzloff and his
wife from the little house which, to any one else, would have ap-
peared a pitiful hut, but which, to them, seemed a paradise. In
one year Anna became an orphan ; she was entirely alone in the
world, and, after she had given to her dear departed ones the tribute
of her sorrows and tears, she had to arouse herself and create a new
future. After death only, the villagers became aware of the great
worth of the departed, they now admitted to the full the school-
teacher's merits, and were anxious to pay to the daughter the debt
owing to the father. As he had died partly from starvation, sorrow,
and work, they wished to prove themselves generous to his daughter,
and preserve her from the want and misery which had caused the
death of her parents.
But Anna Sophia would be dependent on no one. To those who
came in the name of the villagers to notify her that she would re-
ceive from them a monthly allowance, she showed her able hands,
her brown, muscular arms, and, raising her sparkling eyes proudly
to the new school-teacher, she said :
" From these alone will I receive help ; they shall give me food
and clothing ; on them alone will I be dependent. " She then went
to seek work. The rich burgher of the village would gladly have
taken so smart and industrious a girl into his house and paid her
handsomely for her services. But Anna Sophia declared proudly
that, though she was willing to work, she would be no slave ; that
she would sell her hands, but not her freedom.
Another house had been built and furnished for the school-
teacher, because there was danger of the old one, in which the
Detzloff family had lived, falling to pieces.
Anna Sophia, by the sale of some of the furniture, had bought
the old, dilapidated hut for herself. And there, in her hours of
leisure, she lived over the happy past. There she felt that she was
still with her parents, and not alone and orphaned. In the morn-
ing, before leaving her home to go at her daily work, she entered
the little garden at the back of the hut, where in the arbor, laden
with dark-red blossoms, were the three chairs her father had woven
in his idle moments, and the roughly-hewn deal table made by his
axe. She took her seat for a moment upon the chair standing in
the centre, and laid one hand upon the one to either side of her.
Thus she had sat in the past, with her hands clasped in those of her
parents. The Rhine flowed on as melodiously as before in the dim
distance, the trees were as green, the flowers and blossoms as sweet,
THE MAIDEN OF BRUNEN. 175
the sky as blue. There was no change ; all around her was as in
former days, except these empty chairs. But Anna had only to close
her eyes to see the beloved forms of her departed parents, to feel the
pressure of their hands, and to hear them addressing her, in tones
which love alone could have uttered, love alone understood. Then
saying aloud, "Good-morning, mother! Good-morning, father!"
she rose, with closed eyes, from her seat, and hastened from the
arbor with the pleasant thought that she was followed by the loving
gaze of her parents. She did not turn once, for then she would
have seen that the arbor was empty, and she wished to preserve the
sweet delusion to be the brighter and happier at her day's work.
When, during the day, she saw the burgher's wife surrounded by
her blooming daughters, she would say to herself: "I also have
a father and mother at home, and they await me !" Then, when
her day's work was finished, she hastened with a flying step to her
home, whose solemn stillness resounded for her with the dear-
loved voices of the past. Opening the bedroom of her parents,
she cried: "Good-night, mother! Good-night, father!" Then she
climbed up to her little attic, which had been her father's favorite
room, and which, when she was with him, he had called a little
spot of Eden. There stood his writing-table, and above it the book-
case, which held her most precious treasures, her father's library.
From the window the Rhine could be seen meandering along the
smooth green meadows, finally loosing itself between the distant
hills.
Her father had left her this blessed little spot, and hither she fled
when her heavy day's work was over. There of an evening she
stood, gazing thoughtfully out into the darkening twilight, and
there daily she greeted the rising sun, repeating aloud her morning
prayer. Then with eager hands she took from the book-case one of
the large folios. From these books Anna Sophia drew all her knowl-
edge. And when, during the long winter evenings, the village girls
were busy spinning, she would tell them the stories she had read,
no hand was idle, no eye drooping. She was looked upon as the
guardian angel of the village ; she knew some remedy, some allevia-
tion for every illness, every pain. In a sick-room, she was all that
a nurse should be, kind, loving, patient, and gentle. She was be-
loved by all, and all the village boys sought to gain her hand. For
a long time she would listen to none of them, and flew in terror
from those who broached the subject.
How the youngest son of the old shepherd Buschman had finally
won her heart, she did not herself know. It is time, he was the
handsomest, best-made boy in the village, but it was not for this
that she loved him ; for she had known him long ago, and had been
176 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
perfectly indifferent to him, until within the last few weeks. Why
was it? Because he loved her so dearly, and had told her he would
die if she did not listen to him. Many others had done and said
the same thing, but it had never moved her sensibilities, nor had
their threats terrified her. What, then, had won her cold, proud
heart?
The old shepherd had been the occasion of their frequently meet-
ing each other. For some weeks she had been in the habit, when
her day's work was over, of reading to him the daily paper, which
the good-hearted burgher always sent to the old man, who had six
sons in the king's army; he had given his country six soldiers.
Keeling by his side upon the meadow, Anna Sophia would first read
to him, and then talk over the events of the war, and prophesy many
a glorious victory. And then, Charles Henry, who worked on the
same farm with Anna, joined them, speaking enthusiastically of
the great, heroic king. In their inspired love for their great sover-
eign, their hearts had first met ; he seemed to her a hero, because he
had six brothers in Frederick's army ; she saw laurels upon his
brow, won by his brothers upon the battle-field. She loved him for
his brothers' sake, and she was proud of being the bride of him of
whom it was said, when he passed: "It is the old man's dearest
child God preserve him to his father, whose only prop he is !" The
old shepherd was thinking of all this, as he sat in the midst of his
flock upon the green meadow, gazing toward the corn-field in which
Anna Sophia and his son were at work.
" God be praised !" murmured the old man ; " that is the last
sheaf ; Anna will soon be with me. "
At last, the happy moment had come. The old shepherd folded
his hands, and a silent prayer arose from his heart for his absent
sons. He then rose from his lowly seat, and whistled to his faithful
Phylax to follow. The flock arrived at the village, and were driven
by the dog into the sheep-pen, from which was heard the tremulous
bleating of the lambs, who were rejoicing over their dams' arrival.
Father Buschman waited impatiently until the last sheep had
entered, and then hastened toward the large farm-house to the left
of the pen.
Anna Sophia was just leaving the house, paper in hand, and ad-
vanced, with a cheerful smile, to meet him.
"Father," said she, "I have the paper, and we are the first to
read it. The good burgher and his wife are in the country, and the
overseer allowed me to take it. But, hear, father, he says he glanced
over it hastily, and saw something about a Prussian victory. "
The old shepherd's face sparkled with joy, and he sought to draw
Anna a*tf *v>tb him.
NEWS OF BATTLE. 177
" Come, come, my child, " said he, " to my house, where it is still
and quiet ; there we will read of our king's victories. "
But Anna shook her beautiful head.
" No, father, " said she, " it would not be right to read the paper
alone to-day. The king's victories belong to his people to each one
of his subjects ; and every heart will beat more proudly when it
hears of them, and thank God that He has blessed the weapons of
their king. It is not for us to keep this joy from our men and
women. Charles Henry, with the overseer's permission, had already
assembled the villagers upon the open space under the beech-trees.
See ! all are hastening with their work. Come, father, we must
read to our neighbors and friends our king's victories. A victory
belongs to the whole village, but should there ever be news of a lost
battle, then, father, we will read it to ourselves. "
" God forbid that this should come to pass!" said the old man,
following Anna to the place of general meeting.
CHAPTER II.
NEWS OF BATTLE.
THE inhabitants of the village had already assembled on the
square, under the great linden ; and as old Buschman now ap-
proached, supported by Anna Sophia's arm, they were joyfully
greeted.
Anna waved the paper like a white flag in the air, and, hasten-
ing the old man forward impatiently, she exclaimed :
" Our king has won a battle !"
Shouts of triumph were the result.
"Did he whip the French, or the Austrians?" asked one of the
peasants, as he drew close to Anna, and tried to seize the paper.
Anna drew it back hastily.
" The steward sent it to me, to read to the community, and I shall
do so. "
"Tell us, Anna," said another, "has he beaten the Russians or
the cunning Saxons? I wish he could trample them all under foot. "
"He will, if he has not yet done so," cried old Buschman.
" Children, our king will conquer all his enemies ; he is a hero, and
has only brave fellows to fight for him. Just think of the thirty
noble boys that our village alone gave him !"
" Read, Anna, read !" cried the curious crowd. And Anna,
ready to please them, walked under the linden, and stepped upon
the wooden bench that surrounded tta tree.
178 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Father Buschman placed himself at her feet, and several old men
and women followed his example. The young people gathered
around in groups, and gazed respectfully at the youthful girl, whose
bright, beautiful face glowed as if lighted by the evening sun. The
little boys, who had followed their parents from curiosity, were
amusing themselves in turning somersets.
Anna now raised her voice and began to read in a bright tone
It was a brilliant and inspiring account of the battle of Losovitz,
and Anna read it in breathless haste and burning cheeks. As she
read how the Prussians were at first defeated by the powerful army
of the Austrians under General Brown, whose terrific artillery sent
death and ruin into the Prussian ranks, the women sobbed softly,
and the men could hardly suppress their sighs. They breathed more
freely when they heard that the king, adopting a new expedient,
advanced a part of his cavalry into the centre of his weakened in-
fantry, and thus turned the tide of battle. Their courage failed on
hearing that this advantage was soon lost ; the enemy still advanced
in unbroken columns, and almost forced the Prussians to retreat.
The left wing of infantry, commanded by the Duke of Bevern,
which had fired unceasingly, had exhausted their ammunition,
while the Austrian General Wied, who defended the post of Loso-
vitz, kept up a brisk cannonading. The Prussian warriors pleaded
loudly for powder and shot.
Anna stopped reading ; her heart beat loudly ; she leaned her
head against the tree and closed her eyes in terror. The old people
sitting at her feet prayed and wept aloud, and from the crowd there
arose sounds of grief and despair. In their terror they had forgotten
that it was of a victory and not a defeat they were to hear, and that
the battle must at last have ended to their advantage.
" Read on, Anna, " said the old shepherd, after a long pause. " Are
we such cowards as not to be able even to hear an account of this
murderous battle in which our sons were brave enough to fight?"
" Read on, read on !" was heard here and there.
Anna unclosed her eyes and raised the paper. Breathless still-
ness reigned anew. Anna read :
" In this fearful moment the Duke of Bevern felt that a decisive
step must be taken, and springing in front of his troops with drawn
sword, he cried : ' Boys, you have no more ammunition ! Do not be
discouraged ! Fight with your bayonets !' These words, spoken by
a brave and beloved leader, gave heart to all. They closed their
ranks, and inspired by the example of their officer, attacked the
enemy boldly. In vain Baron Stahremberg hastened forward with
his six battalions uselessly Baron Wied tried to defend the house of
Losovitz in which his grenadiers had taken refuge. Nothing could
NEWS OF BATTLE. 179
withstand the Prussians. Like a raging hurricane they fell upon
the enemy, who were forced to give way to them. A part of the
Austrian force sprang into the Elbe, and tried to save their lives by
swimming. Losovitz was fired, and all its defenders fled. The
Prussians had gained a complete victory."*
Anna Sophia could read no further. The delight of all was in-
tense wives embraced their husbands with tears of joy old men
thanked God aloud and the boys, who had ceased their play and
been listening attentively, made bolder and higher somersets and
shouted more lustily. Anna Sophia alone said nothing. Her tall,
slender, but full form was leaning against the tree an inspired
smile was on her lip, and her eyes, raised to heaven, beamed with
holy fire. She stood as if in a dream, and at first did not hear old
Buschman ask her to read on. When he repeated his request, she
was startled, and turned her glance slowly down from heaven upon
the joyful crowd that surrounded her.
" What do you wish, father?" she asked.
The old shepherd arose, and, taking his cap from his gray head,
said solemnly, " You have read us of the victory, Anna Sophia ;
now read us of those who gave their lives for it. Tell us of the
dead."
" Yes, read us a list of the dead !" cried the others, uncovering
their heads respectfully.
Anna sought for the list, and read slowly the names of the fallen.
Their faces brightened more and more ; none belonging to them
were dead. Suddenly Anna paused, and uttered a low cry ; then
looked at Father Buschman with a terrified expression. Perhaps
the old man understood her, for he trembled a little, and his head
fell upon his breast ; but he raised it proudly again. Looking almost
commandingly at Anna, he said :
" Read on, my daughter. "
But Anna could not read. The paper trembled in her hand, and
her face was pale as death.
" Read on, " repeated the old man " read on ; I, your father,
command you to read !"
Anna sighed deeply. "I will obey," she said, and casting a
glance of inexpressible sorrow at the old man, two new names fell
from her lips and tears to consecrate them. "Anton Buschman,
Fiederick Buschman," and then taking advantage of the breathless
stillness, she added : " The two brothers were the first to attack the
enemy they died the death of heroes !" She ceased. The paper
dropped from her trembling hands and fell at the old man's feet.
The weeping eyes of the crowd were turned upon old Buschman.
* " Characteristics of the Seven Years' War," vol. i., p. (58.
180 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
As if crushed by the storm, he had staggered to the bench ; he
bowed his head upon his breast that no one might see the expression
of his face ; his trembling hands clasped on his knees, made a touch-
ing picture of silent sorrow.
His son Henry, who had been standing with the others, stepped
softly to him, and kneeling down, put his arms around the old man's
neck and spoke to him tenderly.
The old man started up with terror his glance turned from his
son to the crowd, and met everywhere sympathizing and troubled
faces. "Well," be asked, in a hard, rough voice, "why do you
weep? Did you not hear that my sons died the death of heroes?
Have they not fallen for their country and their king? It would be-
come us to weep if they were cowards and fled in battle. But Anna
Sophia told us they died the death of heroes. Therefore, let us think
of them with love and pride. ' Blessed are the dead, for they see
God!'"
He sank upon his knees and murmured low prayers for the repose
of the dead, and now he wept for the first time. At his side knelt
his son and Anna Sophia ; and the crowd, overcome by emotion and
sympathy, followed their example, and with bended knees mur-
mured the pious prayers of the Church for the dead.
The solemn stillness was broken by the beating of drums and the
tramping of horses. A company of infantry, headed by the drum-
mer and fifer, marched up the street and approached the villagers,
who, rising from their knees, gazed anxiously at the troops.
"They are Prussians, " said the mayor, who was amongst the
crowd.
"They are Prussians," repeated the crowd, with brightening
faces.
Headed by the mayor, they went forward to meet and conduct
them to the middle of the square, where they halted. The mayor
then approached the officer and asked him what he desired.
The officer, after making the drummer a sign, who beat the roll
powerfully, drew out a roll of paper and unfolded it. The villagers
pushed forward and waited with breathless attention. Close to the
officer stood the old shepherd, next to him his son and Anna Sophia,
who was staring, pale and trembling, at the officer, who now began
to read.
This paper commanded the unmarried men of the village to place
themselves under the king's flag, and to take their places in the
ranks of those who fought for their country. Harvest was at an
end, and the king could now demand the fighting men of villages
and cities to join him and share with him his dangers and his vic-
tories. The officer then commanded the mayor to give him early
THE CERTIFICATE OF ENLISTMENT. 181
the next morning a list of the unmarried men in the village, that
he might call them out and conduct them to Cleve for further orders.
A hollow murmur ran through the crowd when the officer had
finished. The joyful and inspired emotion they had just felt gave
way to discontent and gloom. All had been ready to celebrate the
victory, but found it far from desirable to enter the ranks.
The old shepherd looked angrily at the despairing crowd, and an
expression of pious peace spread over his venerable countenance.
Turning to the officer, he said, in a loud voice :
" I had six sons in the army ; two fell in the battle of Losovitz.
and my poor old heart still weeps for the dead ; but it is also con-
tent that the king calls for another sacrifice. I have one other son ;
he is unmarried, has no one to take care of, neither wife nor child
nor his old father, for, thank God, I still have strength to support
myself. Go, then, my son Charles Henry, the king calls you ; and
if it must be so, lie down like your brothers in a heroic grave. "
He ceased and laid his hand, as if with a blessing, upon his son's
head ; but Henry did not partake of his father's enthusiasm. His
face was pale as death, and his powerful frame trembled as if with
fever.
Anna Sophia saw it ; her beaming face paled, and her eye sank
down with shame.
The officer, who had noticed the dejection of the people, wished
to give them time to recover.
" Leave every thing alone until to-morrow, " he said. " To-mor-
row, sir mayor, you will hand me the list, and I am sure that the
unmarried boys will obey their king's call with joy. Now, sir
mayor, I beg you to conduct me to the court-house, where I will pass
the night, and see that my soldiers find good quarters there, and in
the village."
He nodded kindly to the people, and accompanied by the mayor,
moved onward. The crowd followed them silently, and the gay
village boys danced gleefully around the fine procession.
CHAPTER III.
THE CERTIFICATE OF ENLISTMENT.
ANNA SOPHIA returned to her solitary home in deep meditation,
and not even in the stillness of her room could she regain her accus-
tomed serenity and cheerfulness. Her thoughts were far away ; for
the first time her room appeared to her gloomy and deserted. The
memories of the past did not now speak to her, and when she threw
182 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
herself upon her bed, it was without having bid her parents gooa
night.
But even then she could find no rest. Strange visions were
wafted before her waking eyes, wonderful dreams took hold of her
senses. She saw her victorious king standing before her, his spark-
ling eyes beckoning her to follow him. Then she saw herself in the
front of an army, the fluttering banner in her hand, the glittering
shield on her breast, followed by many brave warriors, who were
all gazing proudly upon her. And again she saw herself. But now
she was all alone alone by the side of an open grave, with a gaping
wound in her breast, raising her weary eyes upward and murmur-
ing with pale lips: "How sweet to die for one's country!" Then
the brothers of her betrothed raised themselves slowly from among
the dead, and signed to her to follow them. She seemed to hear
them saying : " Revenge our death, our brother is faint-hearted !"
At this thought, she raised herself upon her couch.
" He is a coward, " murmured she ; " I saw him turn pale and
tremble, and I felt as if a sword had entered my heart and destroyed
all my love for him. Yes, he is a coward, and instead of rejoicing
at the thought of a battle, he trembles. "
She covered her face with her hands, as if to hide from the night
the burning blush of shame that mounted to her brow. Thus she
sat for hours motionless, as if listening to the voices whispering to
her from within, until the first gleam of morning, the first ray of
sun entered the open window to arouse her from her waking
dreams.
She sprang from her bed, and dressed herself with trembling
eagerness. The sun had arisen, and Charles Henry was no doubt
already in the woods, at the place she had appointed to meet him
yesterday morning. When bidding him good-by, she had whispered
to him to meet her there in the morning at sunrise ; she did not
then know why she had appointed this meeting. She well knew it
was not the longing to pass an undisturbed hour with her lover that
had actuated her. Anna had no such wish ; her heart was too pure,
her love too cold. She had only felt that she would have something
to say to him ; she knew not what herself.
But now she well knew what she had to say ; it was all clear,
and therefore she was happy and cheerful. It seemed to her as if
her soul had taken flight, and as if there was a lark within her sing-
ing songs of joy ; and with these feelings she hastened down the
road into the woods.
At the appointed place stood Charles Henry, and as his betrothed
approached him, so proud, so smiling, sparkling with beauty and
youth, it appeared to him that he had never seen her so exquisitely
THE CERTIFICATE OF ENLISTMENT. 183
neautiful ; to her, as he advanced smilingly to meet her, he had
never seemed so small, so devoid of attractions.
When they met, they looked at each other in amazement there
was a change in both.
" Anna Sophia, " said Charles Henry at last, sadly, " you have
something against me !"
"Yes," said she, "I have something against you, otherwise I
would not have appointed this meeting here, where we can be heard
by no one. Were this that I have to tell you something good, some-
thing pleasant, all the world might stand by and hear it ; but as it
is something painful, it must be heard by you alone. "
She seated herself silently upon the ground, signing to Charles
Henry to follow her example.
" It was here, " said Anna, hastily, " that you first told me of your
love. *
" Yes, it was here, Anna, " repeated he, " and you then told me
that my love was returned, and that you would be my wife when
we had saved enough to commence housekeeping. But still I have
always felt that you were not kind to me, not as the other girls in
the village are to their Jovers. You have never permitted me to
come under your window at night ; I have never been allowed to
take you in my arms and kiss you tenderly, as the others boys do
their sweethearts ; and never, no never, have you given me a kiss
unasked ; and, after all my entreaties, you kissed me only in the
presence of my old father and his dog."
" It is not in my nature to be very tender, " said Anna, shrugging
her shoulders. " I read in one of my books lately a fairy tale, in
which there was a young girl, of whom it was said that a bad fairy
had bound her heart in iron, to prevent its full play ; the girl was
constantly bewailing this fatality, saying, 'I can only like, but
never love. ' Perhaps it is thus with me, but I do not weep over it,
like the foolish girl in the book. "
" And was this what you had to tell me ?" asked Charles Henry,
mockingly.
She gave him a look that sent the jeering smile from his lip.
"No, Charles Henry, " said she, ".this is not what I have to tell
you."
"Well, what is it then, Anna, for this wounds me?" said he.
impatiently.
"Perhaps the other will do so also," said she, sadly. "But it
must come out, I cannot suppress it. Hear. Charles Henry, what
I have to say, and if it is not true, forgive me. I fear you do not
go willingly into the army, and that your heart does not beat with
joy at the thought of becoming a soldier. "
184 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" You are right, " said Charles Henry, laughing, " I do not go
willingly ; and how should it be otherwise? it is a wild, disorderly
life, and it strikes me it cannot be right for men who, our pastor
says, should love each other like brothers, to vie in cutting off each
other's limbs, and to fire upon each other without mercy or pity,
as if one were the butcher, the other the poor ox, who only resists
because he does not wish to give up his life ; and in this case all
would be the butchers, and none the oxen, therefore each one gives
his stroke bravely to preserve his own life. "
" It would be sad if it were as you say, " said Anna, shaking her
head, "but it is not so. The true soldier does not think of his life ;
he thinks of his country, for which he will gladly shed his blood
of his king, to whom he has sworn to be true and of the glory
which he will gain for himself !"
Charles Henry looked in amazement upon Anna Sophia's agitated
countenance.
"How do you know all this?" said he. "Who has told you that
these are soldiers' thoughts?"
" I have read of it in my books, Charles Henry ; in one of them
there is the history of a man whose name was Leonidas. He defend-
ed, with three hundred of his soldiers, against many thousands of his
enemy, a narrow passway. He well knew that he could not con-
quer ; his soldiers also knew it, but they preferred death rather than
the humiliation of laying down their weapons and praying for
mercy. And every man of them died joyfully, giving up his life
for his country. "
"Well, I must say they were fools!" cried Charles Henry, ex-
citedly ; " if I had been there, I would not have done so I would
have sued for pardon. "
" Yes, " said Anna Sophia thoughtfully " yes, I think you would
have done as you say ; and I have been wondering all through the
past night whether you would willingly and joyfully go to battle?"
"I? God forefend ; I will not go joyfully I will not go at all !
This morning I intend going to our pastor to receive from him a
certificate, showing that I cannot join the army, as I have a decrepit
old father to support, who would die without me. "
"Charles Henry, your father is not decrepit, nor very old, nor
would he starve if you were not here, for he can support himself. "
"But he may, at any moment, become unable to help himself,
and then he would need me ; I would have no rest day or night when
far away, but would be thinking of my poor old father, lying sick
and helpless in his hut, with no one near to give him a piece of
bread or a cup of water. "
" Let not this trouble you, Charles Henry, " said Anna, solemnly.
THE CERTIFICATE OF ENLISTMENT. 185
"I swear to you that I will love him and care for him as a daughter.
He shall want for nothing ; and when he can work no longer, I am
strong and healthy enough to work for both of us. Go with a peace-
ful mind, I will be here in your place. "
" No, no !" cried Charles Henry, turning pale ; " I will not join
the army. I cannot, I will not be separated from you, Anna. You
have sworn to be my wife, and I will beseech the pastor to join us
to-day ; then they cannot take me away from here, for I will have a
father and a wife to take care of."
" Not for me, Charles Henry, for I will not marry yet. Have we
saved enough to commence housekeeping? Is this a time to marry
and build a nest, when war, misery, and ruin are raging through-
out the country ? No, no ! Charles Henry, we cannot marry now. "
" Because you do not wish it, Anna. But it shall be, for I have
your promise, and you must keep it. Ah, Anna Sophia, you do not
know what a longing I have to call you my wife !"
"But I have no such longing," said she, drily ; "no desire what-
ever to marry ; and I will tell you, that though you wish to marry
to-day, it is not out of love for me, but to save yourself. "
His eyes sunk before the large, searching ones fixed upon him.
"To save myself, and from what, Anna Sophia?"
"From being a soldier, Charles Henry ! For last evening, I read
upon your countenance that you were devoid of courage "
"You read that?"
"Yes, Charles Henry, fear was stamped upon your brow."
" Well, then, " said he, after a pause, " you have read aright. I
have no courage, I fear for myself. I am not accustomed to stand
still, while some one is pointing his gun at me, and to cry, 'Long
live the king ! ' when the cannon-balls are flying around me ; to at-
tack men who have done me no harm, and to whom I wish to do
none. When I think upon the possibility of my being compelled to
do this, I tremble, and my heart ceases to beat. Do not require it
of me, Anna, for if I have to go, I will fly at the first fight, and
come back here. They may then shoot me as a deserter, if they
choose ; I prefer to die rather than to kill any one else. "
Anna Sophia sprang from her seat with a cry of horror.
" I thought so, " said she, in a low voice ; and, crossing her arms
upon her breast, she walked to and fro, thoughtfully.
Charles Henry looked at her in amazement, but had not the
courage to speak to her ; for she was so completely changed, that he
was almost afraid of her. There was something so cold and proud
about her to-day, something aristocratic in her beauty. He thought
to himself, "It is thus that a queen would look when dreoaed as a
peasant. "
13
186 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Anna Sophia stood still before him at last, and gave him a ten-
der, almost pitiful glance.
" Charles Henry, " said she, " you shall not join the army ; I will
not suffer it. "
He sprang from his seat with a cry of joy.
"You will then marry me, Anna Sophia?" said he, exultingly.
"You will become my wife, so as to keep me here? You love me
too much to let me go !" He tried to embrace her, but she waved
him off.
" No, " said she, " I will not marry you, but, still, you must not
join the army ; for if you became a deserter, it would break your
father's heart, and it would be a disgrace, not only for me, but for
the whole village. Think well over what you have said. Perhaps
you are mistaken in yourself, and only dislike joining the army on
your poor father's account. Question your conscience and your
heart, and remember, Charles Henry, that God will hear your
answer. Do you truly believe that you are wanting in courage
that you would fly from the battle-field?"
" As truly as there is a God above us, I believe it, Anna Sophia.
It is not belief, it is certainty. It is not in my nature to be brave ;
I was not brought up to it, and am therefore without it. I am an
apt farmer, but would be a bad soldier. "
Anna Sophia sighed deeply, and covered her face with her hands.
Thus she stood for some time in front of her betrothed, and he saw
the large tears, stealing through her fingers, fall upon the grass, to
be transformed there by the sun into sparkling jewels.
"Why do you weep, Anna Sophia?" asked he, gently. "What
has so suddenly made you sad?"
Her hands fell slowly and wearily from her face. " I am not
weeping now, " said she ; " it is past I have shed my last tear.
Now we must settle upon what is to be done, for you cannot be a
soldier. "
" But they will force me, " said he, " for I am tall, strong, and
healthy just the build for a soldier. "
Anna Sophia raised herself proudly and stood beside him. " I am
as tall as you, " said she.
" It is true, " replied Charles Henry, laughing, " we are of the
same height. We can scarcely fail to have tall, good-looking chil-
dren some of these days !"
She shrugged her shoulders slightly, and looked at him in a
strange manner. " I am as strong and as healthy as you, " said she,
" my sight is as sharp, my hand as sure. Were I Charles Henry
Buschman, I would be a good soldier, for I have courage I would
not tremble at the cannon-balls. "
THE CERTIFICATE OF ENLISTMENT. 187
" But, fortunately, you are not a man, " said Charles Henry,
laughing. " You are the beautiful Anna Sophia, who is this day to
become my wife to save me from being a soldier. "
" No, Charles Henry ; the war must be at an end, and Charles
Henry Buschman must have returned a brave soldier, before I can
marry him. "
" You mean, " said he, with trembling lips " you mean I must
be a soldier?"
" As you have said, they will not let you off. You are a strong,
healthy youth you are unmarried, and have no one to support, for
your father can take care of himself. Why, then, as the king is in
need of soldiers, should they pass you by ?"
" It is too true, " murmured Charles Henry, despondently. After
a slight pause, he said : " But I will not be a soldier I cannot ! For
it is true I am a coward I have not a particle of courage ! That is
born with one, it cannot be acquired ; I have it not, and cannot
therefore be a soldier. "
" Nor shall you become one, " said Anna, with determination.
"What can you do?"
"I will join the army in your stead !"
Charles Henry stared at her. He was on the point of laughing,
but the sight of her inspired, earnest countenance, in which a world
of determination was expressed, sobered him completely.
" I will do as I said, for I have great courage, and when I think
of a battle my heart beats loudly, not with fear but with rapturous
joy. To me, nothing would be more glorious than to die, banner in
hand, surrounded by the thunder of cannon, and to cry out exult-
ingly, as the blood flows from my wounds, ' Vive le roi ! t ive la
patrie!'" Her form was raised majestically, her countenance
beamed with inspiration, a daring fire sparkled in her eyes she was
so changed in form and expression, that Charles Henry drew back
from her in terror.
" I am afraid of you, Anna Sophia, " said he, shuddering. " You
are changed you are not like yourself. "
" No, " said she ; " nor am I the same. Yesterday I was Anna
Sophia Detzloff from to-day I am Charles Henry Buschman. DC
not interrupt me it must be ! You shall not break your father's
heart you shall not bring disgrace upon the village. The king has
called you you must obey the call. But I will go in your place ;
you shall remain quietly at home, thrashing your corn, cutting your
hay, and taking care of your kind old father, while I shall be upon
the battle-field, fighting in your place."
"Do you then love me well enough to give your life forme?"
cried Charles Henry, with streaming eyes.
188 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
She shook her head slowly, thoughtfully. " I do not know if it he
love, " said she. " I only feel that it must be done there is no other
outlet but this to help us all. Let us speak no more about it only
tell me that you accept it. "
" It is impossible, Anna Sophia. "
" Only accept it, and all will be right. "
" I cannot. It would be an everlasting shame to me. "
She pressed her teeth tightly together her eyes gleamed with
anger. "Hear me out," said she. "Go, or stay whichever you do
I do not remain here ! I must away and seek my fortune. I have
never been happy, as yet upon the battle-field I may be. I have
nothing to lose, and can therefore win all. Well, say ! Am I to
be a soldier in your stead?"
" If you really wish it, I must yield, " said he, sadly. " You say
you have nothing to lose, but I, I have you, and I cannot, will not
lose you. And as you would be angry with and leave me if I said
'No, ' I prefer saying 'Yes. ' "
Anna Sophia gave a cry of delight, and, for the first time, gave
Charles Henry a willing kiss. "Many, many thanks, Charles
Henry, " said she. " Now we will all be happy. "
Charles Henry sighed. He could not bring himself to trust in
Anna's prophecy.
"And now," said she, eagerly, "how shall we go about it?"
CHAPTER IV.
FAREWELL TO THE VILLAGE.
IN the course of the day, Charles Henry accompanied the other
boys to the village, where an officer was to call out the names of those
who were drafted. As his name was called out, he did not change
countenance he remained as gay and cheerful as before, while the
other boys were gazing sadly, thoughtfully before them. Then the
officer handed each of them a ticket upon which their names were
printed, and ordered them to go immediately to the nearest city,
Cleve, and receive their uniforms. Charles Henry requested a day's
leave, as he had various preparations to make for his father, to
whom he wished to will the little property he had inherited from
his mother. The officer granted him one day. Charles Henry left
the house gayly, but instead of turning his steps toward the little
hut inhabited by his father, he took the path leading to the old
school-house, where his bride lived.
FAREWELL TO THE VILLAGE. 189
She stood at her door waiting for him. " Well, " said she, hastily,
"is all right?"
" Yes, " said he, sadly, " I am drafted. "
She grasped the printed ticket from his hand and hid it in her
bosom. "Now," said she, "you have but to bring me a decent suit
of clothes. "
"My Sunday suit, Anna," said he, smiling. "It is new; I in-
tended to be married in it. "
" I shall not hurt it, " said she. " There is a merchant at Cleve,
whom I know to be good and honest I will leave the clothes with
him, and next Sunday you can walk to the city for them. "
"You will not even keep them to remember me by?"
"It is impossible for me ever to forget you, Charles Henry, for I
shall bear your name. "
"From now on, throughout your whole life, you shall bear it,
Anna. For when you return, you will remember your promise, and
marry me. You will not forget me when far away ?"
"How do I know I shall return?" said she. "A soldier's life is
in constant danger. There can be no talk of marriage until this war
is over. But it is now time we were asleep, Charles Henry. You
and I have many things to do to-morrow ; we must arrange our
household affairs you for the sake of appearances, and I in good
earnest. Good-night, then, Charles Henry. "
"Will you not kiss me on this our last night, Anna Sophia?" said
he, sadly.
" A soldier kisses no man, " said she, with a weary smile. " He
might embrace a friend, as his life ebbed out upon the battle-field,
but none other, Charles Henry. Good-night. "
She entered and bolted the door after her, then lighting a candle
she hastened to her attic-room. Seating herself at her father's
table, she spread a large sheet of foolscap before her and commenced
writing. She was making her will with a firm, unshaken hand.
She began by taking leave of the villagers, and implored them to
forgive her for causing them sorrow ; but that life in the old hut,
without her parents, had become burdensome to her, and as her be-
trothed was now going away, she could endure it no longer. She
then divided her few possessions, leaving to every friend some slight
remembrance, such as ribbons, a prayer-book, or a handkerchief.
Her clothes she divided among the village wives. But her house,
with all its contents, she left to Father Buschman, with the request
that he would live in it, at least in summer.
When she had finished, she threw herself upon her bed to rest
from the many fatigues and heart- aches of the da}-. In her dreams
her parents appeared to her they beckoned, kissed, and blessed her.
190 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Strengthened by this dream, she sprang joyfully at daybreak from
her couch. She felt now assured that what she was about to do was
right, for otherwise her parents would not have appeared to her.
She now continued the preparations for her journey cheerfully.
She packed all her linen clothes into a small bundle, and then
scoured and dusted her litle house carefully. Dressing herself with
more than her usual care, and putting her testament in her pocket,
she left the house.
Anna took the road leading to the parsonage ; she wished to go
to confession to her old pastor for the last time. He had known her
during the whole of her short life ; had baptized her, and with him
she had taken her first communion. She had confessed to him her
most secret thoughts, and with loving smile, he absolved what she
deemed her sins. He would not break the seal of confession, and
she therefore opened her heart to him without fear.
The old pastor was deeply moved, and laying his hand upon her
head he wept. When she had bid him a long and loving adieu, and
had wiped the tears from her eyes, she left the parsonage and has-
tened to the woods, where Father Buschman was tending his sheep.
As soon as the old shepherd saw her, he beckoned to her his welcome.
"I did not see you throughout the whole of yesterday, Anna
Sophia," said he, "and my heart was heavy within me; there was
something wanting to my happiness. "
"I will remain with you to-day to make up for yesterday's ab-
sence, " said she, seating herself beside him and kissing him ten-
derly. " I could not work to-day, for my heart aches ; I will rest
myself with you."
"Your heart aches because Charles Henry must leave us," said
the old shepherd. " You would prefer his remaining at home, and
not being a soldier?"
" No, I would not prefer this, father, " said she, earnestly ;
"would you?"
The old man looked thoughtful for some time, then said :
"It will be a great sorrow to me, Anna Sophia, for he is the last
remaining light of my youth, and when he goes all will be dark and
gloomy for me. It does me good to see his bright, handsome face ;
to hear his gay morning and evening song ; and when you two are
sitting beside me hand in hand upon the old bench at the front of
our little hut, my youth comes back to me. I see myself sitting on
the same bench with my dear old woman it was our favorite seat
when we were young. When Charles Henry leaves me, I not only
lose him, but my whole past life seems to vanish away."
"You would, therefore, prefer he should remain at home?" said
Anna, anxiously.
FAREWELL TO THE VILLAGE. 191
" If it" were possible, " said he, " but it is not. His king has called
him, he must obey. "
" But he may, perhaps, be allowed to stay, father, if you will de-
clare that you are too old, too weak to support yourself, and wish
the only prop of your old age to remain with you, the authorities at
Cleve may, perhaps, grant your request. "
The old shepherd shook his head slowly and thoughtfully, and
said :
"No, we will not make the attempt ; it would be deception, and
could bring us no honor. I am not too weak to earn my own liv-
ing, and it would be a disgrace to Charles Henry if I bought him off
from his duty. The world might then think he was a coward, and
had not courage enough to fight. "
" Do you think it a disgrace for a man to be wanting in courage ?"
said Anna Sophia, gazing at him as if her life depended upon his
answer.
" I think so, " said he, calmly ; " it is as bad for a man to be with-
out courage as for a woman to be without virtue. "
Anna Sophia raised her dark, glowing eyes to heaven with an
expression of deep thankfulness. Then giving way to her emotion,
she threw her arms around the old shepherd, and, leaning her head
upon his shoulder, she wept bitterly. He did not disturb her, but
pressed her tenderly to his heart, and whispered occasionally a few
loving, consoling words. He believed he understood her sorrow ;
he thought he knew the source of these tears. She was weeping be-
cause all hope of preventing her betrothed from being a soldier was
now gone.
"Weep no more, my child," said he, at last ; "your eyes will be
red ; it will sadden Charles Henry, and make it harder for him to
say good-by. See, there he comes to join us do not weep, my
child."
Anna raised her head and dried her eyes hastily.
" I am not weeping, father, " said she. " I entreat you do not tell
Charles Henry that I have been crying do not, if you love me. I
will promise not to be sad again. "
" I will be silent, but you must keep your word and be cheerful,
so as not to sadden the poor boy. "
"I will."
Anna Sophia kept her word. She gave Charles Henry a bright,
cheery welcome. While she was joking and laughing with the old
man, evening came upon them, and as it cast its shadows about,
Charles Henry became more and more silent and sad.
It was now time to drive home the fold ; the sun had set, and
Phylax had collected his little army.
192 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The old shepherd arose. "And now, my children," said he,
" take leave of one another. It is the last sunset you will see to-
gether for many a long day. Swear to each other here, in the pres-
ence of God and of his beautiful world, that you will be true to each
other, that your love shall never change. "
Charles Henry looked timidly, beseechingly at Anna Sophia, but
she would not encounter his gaze.
"We have said all that we had to say," said she, quietly, "we
will therefore not make our parting harder by repeating it. "
" It will make parting much easier to me, " cried Charles Henry,
"if you will swear to be true, and always to love me. Though
many years may pass, Anna Sophia, before we meet again, I will
never cease to love you, never cease to think of you. "
" This will I also do, Charles Henry, " said Anna, solemnly.
" My thoughts will be with you daily, hourly ; your name will be
constantly upon my lips !"
Charles Henry turned pale. He understood the ambiguous
meaning of this oath, and it cut him to the heart.
"And now, good- night, Anna Sophia," said the old shepherd;
"to-morrow evening, when your work is done, I will await you
here. We will have to love and console each other. Good-night
once more !"
"Good-night, dear father," whispered she, in a voice choked
with tears, as she pressed a burning kiss on his brow.
The old man took her in his arms and embraced her tenderly,
then whispered :
"To-morrow we "will weep together, Anna Sophia."
Anna tore herself from his arms.
"Good-night, father!" and then turning to Charles Henry, she
said : "When do you leave for Cleve?"
"To night, at ten," said he ; "I prefer going at night ; it is much
hotter in the day, and I must be at Cleve at eight in the morning.
I will be at your door to-night, to take a last look at you. "
"It is all right," said she, dryly, turning from him and hasten-
ing home.
Night had come; the village night-watch had announced the
tenth hour ; no light gleamed through the windows the busy noise
and bustle of day had given place to deep quiet. The whole village
was at rest, every eye was closed. No one saw Charles Henry as he
passed, with a bundle under his arm, and took the path leading to
the old school-houseno one but the moon, that was gleaming
brightly above, and was illuminating the solitary wanderer's
path.
For the first time he found Anna Sophia's door open he had no
FAREWELL TO THE VILLAGE. 193
need to knock. He entered undisturbed with his bundle, which
contained the suit of clothes Anna had desired.
Half an hour later the door was opened, and two tall, slenderly-
built young men left the house. The moon saw it all ; she saw that
the man with the hat on, and with the bundle on his back, was none
other than Anna Sophia Detzloff , daughter of the old school-teacher.
She saw that the one who was following her, whose countenance
was so ghastly pale not because the moon was shining upon it, but
because he was so sad, so truly wretched that this other was Charles
Henry Buschman, who was coward enough to let his bride go to
battle in his stead ! The moon saw them shake hands for the last
time and bid each other farewell.
" Let me go a little bit of the way with you, Anna Sophia, " said
Charles Henry ; " it is so dark, so still, and soon you will go througli
the woods. It is best I should be with you, for it is so fearfully
gloomy. Let me accompany you, Anna Sophia. "
" I have no fear of the woods, " said she, gently ; " the stars above
will watch over and guard me, the moon will shed her light
upon my path, it will not be dark. I must go my way through
life alone I must have no fear of any thing, not even of death.
Leave me now, and be careful that you are seen by no one during
the whole of to-morrow in my house. No one will go there to-
morrow, for I have left word in the village that I am going on a
visit to my aunt at Cleve. I have prepared your meals for you ; the
table is set, and above, in my room, you will find books to read.
You can stand it for one day, to-morrow evening you will be re-
leased. Farewell, Charles Henry !"
"Do not go, Anna Sophia, " said he, weeping and trembling ; "I
will go. I will force my heart to be courageous I You must stay
here."
" It is too late, " said Anna ; " nor could you do it, Charles Henry.
You are afraid of the dark woods, and what comes beyond is much
more fearful. We have taken leave of each other, the worst is past.
Kiss your father for me, and when at times you are sitting upon the
old bench, remind him of Anna Sophia. "
" I will obey you, " whispered he.
But Anna was not listening to him ; she had turned from him,
and was hastening down the road.
The moon saw it all 1 She saw the tears steal slowly from Anna
Sophia's eyes, and fall unknown to herself upon her cheek, as she
turned her back upon her old home and hastened forward to a life
of danger, privation, and want. She saw Charles Henry leaning
upon the door of the old school-house, staring after Anna with a
trembling heart until the last glimpse of her was lost in the distant
194 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
woods. He then entered the school-house and fastened the door be-
hind him. His heart was heavy and sorrowful, he was ashamed of
himself ; he was sorry for what he had done, but had not the strength
to change it ; and as he went over Anna Sophia's departure, he was
inwardly rejoiced that he himself was to remain at home.
On the morning of the second day after Anna's departure, there
was a great stir in the village, there were two astounding reports to
excite the community. Charles Henry Buschman had returned
from Cleve ; they had told him he could be spared for a while. The
second report was that Anna Sophia had not returned from her visit.
They waited for several days, and as she did not come, Charles
Henry went to the distant village where her aunt lived. But he
returned with sad news. Anna Sophia was not there, her aunt had
not seen her.
What had become of her? Where was she? No one could clear
up the mystery. Many spoke of suicide ; she had drowned herself
in the large lake to the left of the village they said, because her be-
trothed had to leave her. The old pastor would not listen to this ;
but when the aunt came to take possession of her niece's worldly
goods, he had to bring forward the will Anna had given him, in
which she had willed her all to Father Buschman. And now no one
doubted that Anna had laid hands upon herself. The mystery re-
mained unsolved. Every one pitied and sympathized with Charles
Henry, who had lost all his former cheerfulness since the death of
his bride !
CHAPTER V.
THE PRISONER.
Two years had passed since Frederick von Trenck entered the
fortress of Magdeburg. Two years ! What is that to those who
live, work, strive, and fight the battle of life? A short space of
time, dashing on with flying feet, and leaving nothing for remem-
brance but a few important moments.
Two years ! What is that to the prisoner? A gray, impenetrable
eternity, in which the bitter waters of the past fall drop by drop
upon all the functions of life, and hollow out a grave for the being
without existence, who no longer has the courage to call himself a
man. Two years of anxious waiting, of vain hopes, of ever-renew-
ing self-deception, of labor without result.
This was Trenck's existence, since the day the doors of the cita-
del of Magdeburg closed upon him as a prisoner. He had had many
bitter disappointments, much secret suffering ; he had learned to
THE PRISONER. 195
know human nature in all its wickedness and insignificance, its love
of money and corruption, but also in its greatness and exaltation,
and its constancy and kindness.
Amongst the commandants and officers of the fortress whose
duty it was to guard Trenck, there were many hard and cruel hearts,
which exulted in his tortures, and who, knowing the king's personal
enmity to him, thought to recommend themselves by practising the
most refined cruelties upon the defenceless prisoner. But he had
also found warm human souls, who pitied his misfortunes, and who
sought, by every possible means, to ameliorate his sad fate. And,
after all, never had the night of his imprisonment been utterly dark
and impenetrable. The star of hope, of love, of constancy, had
glimmered from afar. This star, which had thrown its silver veil
over his most beautiful and sacred remembrances, over his young
life of liberty and love, this star was Amelia. She had never ceased
to think of him, to care for him, to labor for his release ; she had
always found means to supply him with help, with gold, with active
friends. But, alas ! all this had only served to add to his misfor-
tunes, to narrow the boundaries of his prison, and increase the
weight of his chains.
Treachery and seeming accident had, up to this time, made vain
every attempt at escape, and destroyed in one moment the sad and
exhausting labors of many long months. The first and seemingly
most promising attempt at flight had miscarried, through the trea-
son of the faithless Baron Weingarten, who had offered to commu-
nicate between Trenck and the princess.
For six long months Trenck had worked with ceaseless and in-
comparable energy at a subterranean path which would lead him to
freedom ; all was prepared, all complete. The faithful grenadier,
Gefhart, who had been won over by the princess, had given him the
necessary instruments, and through the bars of his prison had con-
veyed to him such food as would strengthen him for his giant task.
Nothing was now wanting but gold, to enable Trenck, when he
had escaped, to hire a little boat, which would place him on the
other side of the Elbe gold, to enable him to make a rapid flight.
Gefhart had undertaken to deliver Trenck's letter to the princess,
asking for this money. This letter, written with his own blood
upon a piece of linen, had been forwarded through Gefhart's mis-
tress, the Jewess Rebecca, to Weingarten. He delivered it to the
princess, and received, through Pollnitz, two thousand thalers,
which he did not hand over to Rebecca, but retained for himself,
and betrayed to the king Trenck's intended flight.
This was but a short time before Weingarten's own flight; and
while he was enjoying the fruit of this base fraud in security and
196 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
freedom, poor Trenck was forced to descend still lower in the citadel.
and take possession of that frightful prison which, by special com-
mand of the king, had been built and prepared for him. in the
lowest casemates of the fortress,
The king was greatly exasperated at these never-ending attempts
of Trenck to escape; his courage and endurance made him an in-
teresting and admired martyr to the whole garrison at Magdeburg.
Frederick wished to give to this garrison, and to all his soldiers,
a terrible example of the relentless severity with which insubordi-
nation should be punished, to prove to them that mortal daring and
mortal energy were vain to escape the avenging hand cf royal justice.
Trenck, who, in the beginning, had only been condemned to
arrest in Glatz for six months, had, by his constant attempts at
escape, and the mad and eloquent expression of his rage, brought
upon himself the sentence of eternal imprisonment, in a subterranean
cell, which, by express command of the king, was so prepared,
that neither guards nor soldiers were necessary to his detention.
A jailer only was needed, to lock the four doors of the corridor which
led to Trenck's celL It was as little dangerous to guard this poor
prisoner as to approach the lion bound by chains and hemmed in by
iron bars.
Trenck was indeed manacled like a wild beast. A chain clanked
upon his feet, an iron girdle was around his waist, to which hung a
heavy chain, fastened to a thick iron bar built in the wall ; mana-
cles were made fast to each end of an iron bar, to which his hands
were bound. The most cruel wild beast would not have been so
tortured; some one would have had pity on him, and mercifully
ended his life. But this creature, thus tortured, groaning and
clanking his heavy chains this creature was a man, therefore there
was no pity. It would have been considered a crime to put an end
to his life ; but slowly, day by day, to murder him, was only justice.
The king had made it the personal duty of the commandant,
Bruckhausen, to guard Trenck. He declared that if he allowed
Trenck to escape, he should not only lose his place and rank, but
take Trenck's place in his fearful cell. This was a frightful menace
to the ambitious and harsh commandant. Bruckhausen. and, cf
course, led him to take the severest precautions. It was he, there-
fore, who had bound Trenck, and, whenever he visited the poor
prisoner in his cell, he rejoiced in the artistic construction of his
chains, and looked proudly upon his work. He saw with delight
ttiai Trenck was scarcely able to drag his heavy chains two feet to
the right or left, or to raise the tin cup to his parched lips, with his
hands thus fastened to an iron bar ; and as often as he left the cell,
he exclaimed, with an expression of malicious joy :
THE PRISONER. 197
" I have tamed him forever ! he will not escape me !"
But Trenck was not tamed ; his courage was not broken. In this
crushed and wasted form dwelt a strong soul, a bounding heart ; he
had been bound in chains thought to be indissoluble. Trenck alone
did not believe this ; he trusted still in the magic power of his will,
in his good star, which had not yet been quenched in darkness.
In the wall to which the chain was fastened, his name was built,
in red tiles ; a gravestone marked the spot upon which his feet
moved, upon which a death's head and the name of Trenck was en-
graved. Under this stone there was a vault, and when one looked
at the moist walls, from which the water constantly trickled, and
at the dark cell, which for six months had not been cheered by one
ray of light, they might well suppose that the gravestone would
soon be lifted, and the vault opened to receive the poor prisoner,
upon whose grave no other tears would flow. These dark walls
were, as it appeared, softer and more pitiful than the hearts of men.
Trenck was not subdued ; the death's head and his name upon
the gravestone did not terrify him ! It was nothing more to him
than a constant reminder to collect his courage and his strength,
and to oppose to his daily menace of death a strong conviction of
life and liberty.
If his prison were dark, and warmed by no ray of sunshine, he
leaned his head against the wall, closed his eyes, and his vivid
imagination and glowing fancy was the slave of his will, and
painted his past life in magic pictures.
The prisoner, clad as a convict, with his hands and feet chained,
became at once the child of fortune and love ; the exalted favorite
of princes, the admired cavalier, the envied courtier, and the dar-
ling of lovely women.
When hunger drove him to eat the coarse bread which was his
only nourishment, and to satisfy his thirst with the muddy water
in the tin pitcher at his side, he thought of the meals, worthy of
Lucullus, of which he had partaken, at the Russian court, by the
side of the all-powerful Russian minister Bestuchef ; he remembered
the fabulous pomp which surrounded him, and the profound rever-
ence which was shown him, as the acknowledged favorite of the
prime minister of the empress.
When no one whispered one word of consolation or of sympathy,
for all trembled at the ceaseless watchfulness of the commandant
when the rude silent jailer came daily and placed his bread and
water before him and left him without word or greeting then
Trenck recalled the sacred, consecrated hours in which love had
whispered sweet names and tender words. This love still lived it
watched over and shone down upon him it was a star of hope
198 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Why should Trenck despair, when love lived and lived only for him?
No, he would not die he would never be buried under this grave-
stone. Beyond these thick, damp walls lay the world the living,
active, blooming world. It was only necessary to break these
chains, to open the five heavy doors which confined him to his dark
prison, and life, liberty, the world, honor, love, belonged to him !
"Is not my will stronger than chains and bolts ?" he said "Has
not the spirit wings by which she can take flight, mocking at prisons
I and at torture?"
| His spirit was free, for he believed in freedom : when his chains
clanked around him, it seemed to him as if they whispered of
speedy liberty as if they exhorted him in soft, harmonious tones,
to cast them off and become a free and happy man.
At last there came a day when he could no longer resist these
alluring voices. If he could break these chains the first step was
taken, and only the doors remained to be opened. By close observa-
tion, he had discovered that the inner door of his prison was of
wood. The faithful Gefhart had managed to inform him that the
other doors were also of wood. He had also conveyed to him a
small, sharp knife, the most precious of all earthly treasures, for
with this he hoped to obtain his freedom.
" But the chains !" First must the chains be broken first must
his right hand be free ! And it was free. Although the blood was
bursting from the nails Trenck forced his hand through the mana-
cle. Freedom greeted him with her first rapturous smile. Alas,
the handcuff upon the left hand was too narrow to be removed in
this way. With a piece of his chain he broke off a fragment of
stone which he used as a file, and in this way he liberated his left
hand. The iron ring around his waist was fastened only by a hook
to the chain attached to the wall. Trenck placed his feet against
the wall, and bending forward with all his strength, succeeded in
straightening the hook so far as to remove it from the ring. And
now there only remained the heavy wooden chain fastened to his
feet, and also made fast to the wall. By a powerful effort he broke
two of the links of this chain.
He wag free free at least to stand erect and walk around his
miserable prison. With a feeling of inexpressible joy he raised
himself to his full height it enraptured him to move his arms, so
long and painfully confined he extended them widely and power-
fully, as if he wished to clasp the whole outside world to his heart.
Could the commandant Bruckhausen have cast one glance into
this horrible, noiseless cell, he would have trembled with rage and
apprehension. The unchained giant stood with glad smiles, and
flaming eyes, and outstretched arms, as if adjuring the spirits of the
THE PRISONER. 199
under- world to come to his assistance. But the commandant lay in
careless security upon his soft, white couch ; his eyes were closed ;
they could not pierce the dark cell where a fellow-man, with loudly-
beating heart, but silent lips, called rapturously to the fair goddess
Liberty, and hastened to clasp her in his arms.
Stepping forward, he sought the door of his prison, and kneeling
before it, he took out his knife. He tried to cut out a small piece
and to ascertain the thickness of the wall ; this was short work the
door opened inside, and it was easy to cut around and remove the
lock. It was made of simple oak boards. Once convinced of this,
Trenck prudently sought his mattress in order to obtain rest and
strength. It was impossible to commence his labor then. The night
was far spent, and every morning at eight o'clock the jailer came to
inspect him and bring his bread and water. His visit must be
over before he could begin his work he must possess his soul in pa-
tience. What were a few hours' waiting to him who had waited
long, dreary years? a fleeting moment, scarcely sufficient to
accustom him to his new happiness, to enable him to collect his
thoughts and bear quietly the rapturous conviction of approaching
freedom.
"Yes, I will be free ; this is the last night of my imprisonment."
But while waiting in this dreary prison he could enjoy one pleasure
long denied him he could stretch his limbs upon his bed without
being martyred and crushed by his bonds without hearing the
clank of chains. With what gladness he now stretched himself
upon his poor couch ! how grateful he was to God for this great
happiness ! how sweet his sleep ! how glorious his dreams !
Trenck awaked in the early morning, revived and strengthened.
It was time to prepare for the daily visitation to replace his chains,
and take possession of his gravestone. His eyes accustomed to the
darkness soon discovered the broken link of the chain, which he hid
in his mattress. With a piece of his hair-band he fastened the chain
to his feet, hung the second chain to the ring upon his waist, and
now it only remained to place his hands in the manacles fastened to
the iron bar. He had filed the handcuff from his left hand and that
was easy to resume, but it was impossible to force his right hand
through the ring ; he had succeeded in removing it by a mighty
effort the evening before, but it was consequently greatly swollen.
He took again his little piece of stone and tried to file it apart, but
every effort was in vain. Nearer and nearer came the hour of visi-
tation, and if his right hand were free when the jailer came, all
would be discovered. It seemed to him as if he heard already the
bolt of the first door. With a last, frightful effort, he forced his
hand in the manacle ; his fingers cracked as if the bones were
200 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
broken ; it was scarcely possible for him to suppress a shriek of an-
guish. But the danger was even at the door, and the blessing of
freedom was not too dearly bought even by this anguish ; he bore it
with heroic fortitude, and though his whole figure trembled with
pain, he conquered himself. He leaned back breathlessly and almost
unconsciously against the wall ; and now the bolt really moved, and
the jailer, followed by two officers, entered.
The visitation began. In this small cell, which held nothing but
a mattress, . a seat built in the wall, and a small table, there was but
little to examine. A fleeting glance at Trenck's chains, which
were rattling around him, and the search was over, and the jailer
and officers left the prison. Trenck listened in breathless silence
till he heard the bolt of the fifth door rattling, and now life and
movement were in his form and features. It was time to work.
But alas ! it was impossible. The swollen, blood-red, throbbing
hand could not possibly be withdrawn from the handcuff. He must
control himself must wait and be patient. He resolved to do this
with a brave heart, in the full conviction that he would attain his
liberty.
At last, after three days, the swelling disappeared, and he found
he could withdraw his hand without difficulty. The visit was no
sooner over, than his chains fell off. For the last time ! God grant
that for the last time he had heard them clank !
A herculean work was before him, but Freedom was without
and awaiting him, and he panted to embrace her. Seizing his little
pocket-knife, he stepped to the door and commenced his labor. The
first door was not difficult, it opened from within. In half an hour
the work was done, and Trenck advanced and extended his hands
before him till they encountered another obstacle. This was the
second door. But here was indeed a weary task. The door opened
on the outside and a heavy cross-bar besides the lock secured it. It
was necessary to cut entirely through the door above the bar, and
spring over it. Trenck did not despair bravely, unwearily, he
went to work the perspiration fell from his brow and mingled with
the blood which trickled from his lacerated hands. Trenck did not
regard it ; he felt no pain, no exhaustion. Freedom stood before
the frowning citadel, and awaited his coming. At last it was
achieved ; with trembling hands he lifted the upper part of the door
from the hinges and sprang into the outer room.
Here light and sunshine greeted him. Weary months had gone
by since he had seen the sun the soft light of heaven on the fresh
green of earth and now all this was his once more. There was a
small window in this corridor, and not too high for him to look
abroad. He turned his eyes, filled with tears of the purest joy,
THE PRISONER. 201
upon the cloudless heavens ; he followed with longing eyes the flight
of the doves, who moved like a black cloud across the sky and dis-
appeared on the horizon. He inhaled with long-drawn breath the
fresh, glad air, which appeared to him laden with the fragrance of
all the flowers of the world. He gave himself up for a few moments
to this first rapturous enjoyment, then conquered himself and ex-
amined his surroundings with a thoughtful, searching eye.
He saw that his prison was built against the first wall of the for-
tress, and was exactly opposite an entrance, before which stood a
high palisade ; this he must climb before he could reach the outer
wall. But the night was long, and he saw that the guard patrolling
upon the wall disappeared from time to time for more than five
minutes ; he must therefore have some distance to walk before he
returned to the same spot. While his back was turned, must
Trenck climb the palisade and wall.
Trenck sprang back upon the floor with a glad and happy heart.
What he had seen of the free, outer world had given him new life.
With cheerful resolution he stepped to the third door. This was
constructed like the first, and gave him but little trouble it was
soon opened, and Trenck passed on the other side.
The sun went down, and the twilight obscured his view, as this
was completed. And now his strength was exhausted, and his
swollen and bleeding hands, from which the flesh hung in shreds,
refused their service. With inexpressible despair he looked at the
fourth door, which opened from the outside, and it was again neces-
sary to cut through the whole breadth of the door in order to advance.
Worn out and trembling, he seated himself near the door and
leaned his aching head against the cool wood. He sat thus a long
time, till he felt that his blood was flowing more calmly, and the
wild, quick beating of his pulse had subsided till the pain in his
hands and limbs was quieted, and he had won new strength. He
then rose from the floor, took his knife, and recommenced his work.
He moved more slowly than before, but his work progressed. It
could scarcely be midnight, and half the door was cut through.
The moon shed her peerless rays through the little window and
lighted his work, and showed him what remained to be done. In
two hours he would finish, and then remained only the fifth door
which opened on the wall, and which Gefhart assured him was not
difficult. In three hours the work would be done in three hours
he might stand without, in the fresh, free air of heaven, himself a
free and happy man.
With renewed courage and renewed strength, after a short rest,
he went again to work. He thrust his knife into the opening and
pressed powerfully against the wood. Suddenly his hand seemed
14
202 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
paralyzed on the other side of the door he heard a light clang, and
with a hollow cry of woe, Trenck sank upon the floor. The blade of
the knife was broken and had fallen on the other side. Now he was
lost ! There was no longer hope of escape ! He rushed to the win-
dow ; would it not be possible to escape in that way? No, no ! It
was not possible to pass through this small opening.
Trenck sank upon his knees before the window and stared into
the heavens. His pallid lips murmured low words. Were they
prayers? were they curses? or was it the death-rattle of dead hopes
and dying liberty? At last he rose from his knees ; his face, which
had been that of a corpse, now assumed an expression of firm resolve.
Staggering and creeping along by the wall, he returned to his prison,
which he had left so short a time before full of happy hopes. He
reached his bed and laid down upon it, holding the broken knife in
his hand. Not to sleep, not to rest, but to die ! He could think of
no other hope no other way than this. "Yes, I will die!" His
life's courage, his life's energy, was exhausted. He had closed his
account with the world. Slowly he raised his hand aloft with the
broken knife, and collecting all his strength for one last, decisive
blow, he bowed and cut the vein of his left foot, then raised his
head with a smile of triumph, and stretching out his left arm he
forced the stump of his knife deep into the large vein of his elbow.
The deed was done ! He felt the warm blood flowing from his veins
he felt that with it also was sweeping by the miserable remnant of
his buried existence. His thoughts wandered, and a happy insensi-
bility overpowered him, and now his blessed spirit floated chainless
and free beyond this drear prison. The necessities of this poor life
and its tortures were overcome.
But what was that ? Who called his name lightly from without,
and made the air of this living grave tremble with unwonted tones V
When this call was repeated the second time, Trenck felt a lighf
trembling in his whole frame. The whisper of his name had called
back his fleeting spirit. The godlike dream of release was at an
end ; Trenck lived again, a suffering, defenceless man. For the
third time he heard his name called for the third time a voice, a*
if from heaven, rang, "Trenck! Trenck!"
Trenck gathered all his little strength, and replied :
"Who calls me?"
" It is I, " said the faithful Gefhart ; " have I not sworn to bring
you help? I have crept over the wall only to say to you that I think
of you that you must not despair that help is nigh, even at the
door. An unknown friend has sent you a greeting by me ; he has
given me a roll of gold to be useful in your flight. Come near, 1
will throw it to you through the window. "
THE PRISON BARRICADE. 20J
" It is too late, Gef hart, all is too late ! I lie bathed in my blood ;
to-morrow they will find me dead !"
"But why die?" cried the fresh, strong voice of Gef hart ; "why
wish for death, now when escape is possible? Here there are no
guards, and I will soon find a way to furnish you with tools. Try
only to break your prison for the rest I will remain responsible. "
; ' Alas, I tried to-night and I failed !" said Trenck. A few tears
stole from his eyes and rolled slowly over his hollow cheeks.
"You will succeed better another time, Baron Trenck ; whenever
I am on guard here I will seek an opportunity to speak with you,
and we will arrange all. Do not despair. I must go, the sun is
rising, and I may be seen. Do not despair 1 God will help you
trust fully in me. " *
The voice had long since died away, but Trenck listened still for
those tones, which seemed like the greeting of one of God's angels ;
they illuminated his prison and gave strength to his soul. No, no,
now he would not die ! He felt his courage revive. He would defy
fate, and oppose its stern decrees by the mighty power of his will.
CHAPTER VI.
THE PRISON BARRICADE.
No, he would not die ! With trembling hands he tore his coarse
shirt into strips, and bound with it his bleeding veins. When he
had thus closed the portals upon death, he seated himself to medi-
tate upon the means of avoiding still severer punishment. He soon
arose from his bed, much strengthened by the short rest he had had.
With an iron bar that he had forced from his bed he hammered into
the wall until the stones, around which the mortar had become
loosened owing to the dampness of the cell, fell at his feet. He
piled them together in the centre of his cell, and then hastened to
barricade the second door he had attempted to force. The lower
part of it was still held on by flhe lock ; over the opening at the top
he passed the chains several times that he had forced from his limbs,
forming a sort of trellis-work, which rendered entrance from without
impossible.
When all his preparations were made, when he was ready for the
contest, he seated himself upon his strange barricade, and there,
wearied out by suffering and anxiety, he fell into a sweet sleep.
He was awakened by the sound of many loud voices. Through the
iron lattice of the second door he saw the wondering, terrified coun-
* " Frederick von Trenck Important Memoirs."
204 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
tenances of the city guard, who were endeavoring to unloose the
chains. With one bound Trenck was beside his door, balancing in
his right hand a large stone, and in the left his broken knife. He
cried out, in a furious voice :
" Back ! back ! let no one dare to enter here. My stones shall
have good aim ; I will kill any one who ventures to enter this room.
Major, tell his excellency, the commandant, that I will remain no
longer in chains. I wish him to have me shot down at once ! I
will thank him for my death, but I will curse him if he forces me
to become a murderer. For I swear, before God, I will stone any
one who seeks to overpower me. I will die yes, die !"
It was a fearful sight this man, thin, wan, naked, and bleed-
ing, who seemed to have risen from the grave to revenge the suffer-
ings of his life. His countenance was ghastly pale, his hair lying
in matted locks on his neck ; and the long beard, covering the lower
part of his face, and falling almost to his waist, gave him a wild,
insane look, which was heightened by the fearful brightness of his
eyes.
With terror and pity they gazed at the poor unfortunate one
whom despair had driven to this extremity ; who remained deaf to
all their representations, all their entreaties, still swearing that he
would kill any one who approached him. It was in vain that the
officers besought him in the most tender manner to submit that the
prison chaplain came and implored him, in the name of God, to
give up this useless resistance. God's name had no effect whatever
upon him. What was God to him to him on whom no one had
pity, neither God nor man ; he whom they treated like a wild beast,
and fastened in a cage? It was in vain that the commandant
ordered the guard to storm the fortified door. Trenck received them
with stones, and sent the two foremost ones reeling to the floor,
causing the others to fall back in disamy.
Trenck raised his hand with a shout of exultation, armed with
another stone, and fixing his wild, triumphant glance upon the
commandant, he cried :
"You see it is useless to endeavor to take me while living.
Order the guards to fire ! Let me die !"
The commandant lacked the power to do as Trenck requested,
however willing he may have been to grant his request. Instead of
continuing his threats, he withdrew into another chamber, signing
to the major to follow him.
Trenck still stood with uplifted arm when the major returned.
And now, as the stern, much-feared commandant had left, no one
withheld the tender sympathy that was almost breaking the hearts
of the lookers-on. Trenck saw it written upon every countenance,
THE BATTLE OF COLLJN. 205
and he to whom a look and word of pity had been so long unknown,
felt deeply touched. His expression became milder, and as the
major, whom he had known in the other prison, commenced to
speak to him in gentle, loving tones, and implored him not to cause
his ruin, for all the punishment would fall upon his head, as,
through his negligence, Trenck had been allowed to retain his knife
as he finished, Trenck's arm fell to his side, and tears streamed
from his eyes.
"No one," said he, gently "no one shall become unhappy
through me, for misery is a fearful thing. I will make no further
resistance, if you will swear to me that no heavy chains shall be put
upon me that I shall suffer no unworthy punishment. "
The major promised him, in the commandant's name, that if he
ceased to resist, no further notice would be taken of the affair.
"Then," whispered Trenck, with a bitter smile, "I must suffer
anew suffer forever. "
He approached the door and drew off the chains.
"Now, guards," said he, "the door can be opened. The wild
beast has become tame. "
Then, with a low moan, he sank fainting upon the floor. He
was lifted up and laid upon his bed. Tears were in every eye, but
Trenck did not see them ; he did not hear their low, whispered
words of sympathy and friendship. Death, from whom Trenck had
once more been torn, had sent her twin sister, insensibility, to cause
him to forget his sufferings for a while.
CHAPTER VII.
THE BATTLE OF COLLIN.
LOST ! the battle was lost ! This was the cry of woe throughout
the Prussian camp this was the fearful cry that palsied the hands
of those who could not endure defeat.
The Prussians who had defeated the enemy at Losovitz and
Prague, were condemned to yield the palm of victory at Collin to
their enemy's commander, Marshal Daun. They had fought
bravely, desperately for this victory ; and when all was over, death
would have been preferable to defeat.
The Prussians were beaten, though their king, Ziethen, and
Moritz von Dessau all of them heroes were in the field. At the
first thought of the possibility of losing the battle, there was a fear-
ful panic throughout the army.
306 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" We are lost ! lost !" and this cry caused them to throw down
their arms and fly, as if followed by a thousand furies ; as victory
was impossible, they wished at least to save their lives.
It was in vain that the officers implored them to rally again and
fall upon the enemy. They did not heed. In vain that the king
himself rode among them, pointing with his sword to the enemy,
and crying :
"Forward' forward, boys! Would you live forever? Death
comes to all !"
They looked at him stubbornly ; they feared not now his piercing,
eagle glance, his royal countenance. They looked and said :
" We have worked hard enough to-day for eightpence, " and then
continued their flight.
But the king could not yet be brought to believe the truth. He
still trusted in the possibility of victory. He clung with desperation
to this hope ; he let his voice be heard that voice that generally
had such power over his soldiers ; he called them to him, and
pointed out to them the enemy's battery ; he ordered the band to
play a martial air to inspire the men. This call brought a few
faithful soldiers around him only forty warriors were ready to
follow their king.
" Forward ! we will take the battery !" cried he, as he pressed on,
regardless of the shower of the enemy's balls.
What was this to him? what had he to do with death he whose
only thought was for the honor and glory of his army? If he suc-
ceeded in taking this battery, it would encourage his desponding
soldiers. They would once more believe in the star of their king,
and assemble bravely around him. This it was that gave hope to
the king.
Without once looking back, he pressed onward to the battery
when suddenly, amid the clatter of trumpets and the roar of can-
non, this fearful question reached him :
"Sire, would you take the battery alone?"
The king reined in his horse and looked behind him. Yes, he
was alone ; no one was with him but his adjutant, Major von Grant,
who had asked this question.
A deep groan escaped the king ; his head fell upon his breast,
and he gave himself up to the bitterness of despair.
A cannon-ball fell beside him he did not heed it; he was too
utterly wretched. Another ball struck his horse, causing it to prance
with pain and terror.
Major Grant grasped the king's bridle.
"Sire," said he, "are you determined to be shot? If so, let me
know it, and with your majesty's permission I will withdraw."
THE BATTLE OF COLLIN. 207
The king raised his head, and looked at the daring adjutant with
A bitter smile.
" We will both withdraw, " said he, gently, advancing toward the
generals who had been seeking him throughout the battle-field. He
greeted them with a silent bow, and passed without a word. Whither
he was now going, none of the generals knew, but they followed
him in silence.
The king rode up the slight eminence from which, on that morn-
ing, his army had fallen like a glittering avalanche upon the enemy.
This avalanche was now transformed into a stream of blood, and
corpse upon corpse covered the ground. He reined in his horse and
gazed at the Austrian army, who were now withdrawing to their
camp, nv'dst shoutings and rejoicings, to rest after their glorious
victory. Then, turning his horse, he looked at the remains of his
little army flying hither and thither in the disorder of defeat. A
deep sigh escaped him. Throwing his head back proudly, he called
Prince Moritz von Dessau and the Duke of Severn to his side.
" Sirs, " said he, firmly ; " the fate of to-day is decided. All that
now remains for us to do, is to deprive the enemy of the advantages
of this victory. Collect our scattered regiments, and lead the
army through the defile of Plainan, back to Nimburg. There we
will decide what is best to do. I go on before you, and wish no one
to accompany me. "
He turned his horse, rode slowly down the hill, then took the
road leading to Nimburg. Lost in deep thought, he continued his
way. He was followed by his faithful body-guard, who, at a sign
from Prince von Dessau, had hastened after him. A few flying
officers and sergeants joined him. These were the followers of
Prussia's hero-king ; but they were suddenly scattered. A soldier
galloped up to them, and stated that he had just encountered a regi-
ment of the enemy's hussars, who were pursuing them. There was
a cry of terror throughout the guards, and then, as if with one ac-
cord, putting spurs to their horses, they fled in wild disorder.
The king continued his way, slowly and quietly slowly and
quietly a few of his guard followed him. In funereal silence they
passed through the defile of Plainan, and reached at last Nimburg,
the king's appointed place of meeting.
The king now reined in his horse, and, looking back, he became
aware of his followers. Beckoning to his adjutant, he ordered him
to get quarters for the soldiers, and then to inform the generals that
he awaited them.
"Where?" asked the astonished adjutant.
"Here!" said the king, pointing to a fallen pump, a few steps
from where he stood.
208 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
He dismounted, and, when the adjutant had disappeared, he
threw himself upon the old pump, and rested his head upon his cane.
Thus he remained a long while, thinking painfully of the occur-
rences of the past day. He remembered that he had appointed the
site of to-day's battle, without listening to the warnings of his ex-
perienced generals, and that Moritz von Dessau had implored him
to put his army in another position, before attacking the enemy.
He remembered the prince saying to him " It would be impossible
for an attack from this point to succeed, " and his entreating him to
draw back and change his position. He remembered, also, his
riding up to the prince, with his naked sword, and inquiring, in a
threatening tone, "whether he meant to obey or not?" And Prince
Moritz von Dessau had obeyed ; his prophecy had been fulfilled the
battle was lost.
"Ah," whispered the king, "how poor, how weak is man ! The
happiness of an hour intoxicates him, and he defies his coming fate ;
he should know that happiness is a fleeting guest, but that misfor-
tune is the constant companion of man. I have allowed myself to be
deceived by fortune, and she has turned against me. Fortune
is a woman, and I am not gallant. The fickle goddess watches
carefully, and makes good use of my faults. It was a great fault
to dare, with twenty-three battalions of infantry, to attack an
army of sixty thousand men, half of whom are cavalry. Ah !
my great ancestor, Frederick William, what have you to say
of your poor nephew, who, with his little host, is fighting against
Russia, Austria, a large part of Germany, and a hundred thousand
French troops? Will you assist me? Will you be my guardian
angel, praying for me above? Yes, yes! you will assist me if I
assist myself, and do not give way to my faults. Had I been killed
in to-day's battle, I would now be in a safe haven, beyond the reach
of storms. But now I must swim still farther into the stormy sea,
until at last I find in the grave that rest and peace which I shall
never attain in this world. This is a consoling thought ; it shall
rouse me again to life. I am glad I did not die to-day. I can still
repair my fault. All the responsibility will be thrown on me ; it
will be said, the battle would have been won, but for Frederick's
obstinacy. But let this be ! It is a necessary consequence that a
warrior should suffer for the faults of his followers. Through me
this battle was lost, and in history it will go down thus to future
generations. But many a victory shall still be recorded, and as the
defeat was owing to me, so shall the victory also come through me
alone I alone will bear upon my shoulders Prussia's honor, Prussia's
glory. It lies now, with me, bleeding on the ground. It shall be
lifted and sustained by me alone!" And raising his burning eyes
TFTTC BATTLE OF COLLIN.
heavenward, beseemed to see these future victories branded upon the
skies. Gradually the inspiration left his countenance, giving place
to deep thought. He had delivered his funeral oration to the lost
battle, and now gave his thought to his future victories. He
drew lines and figures upon the sand with his cane. It may have
been a drawing of the last or a sketch of the next battle.
The king was so absorbed in this occupation, that he did not per-
ceive his generals, who, having reached Nimburg with the wreck
of the army, hastened to the place of appointment, and were now
assembled at a respectful distance from him.
Frederick continued to sketch. The generals gazed at him in
silence, anxiously awaiting the moment when he would arouse him
self. He suddenly looked up, and did not seem surprised to see
them ; lifting his hat slightly, he greeted them, and rose from his
lowly seat.
" It is well, sirs, that you are here, " said he. " *<Te must now
make our preparations for the future ; for our enemies, having
beaten us once, will think us no longer capable of resisting them,
and will fall upon us with renewed courage. We will convince
them, gentlemen, that though we are stricken to the ground for a
moment, we are not crushed, not dead. We will convince them
that we still live to tear from them the laurels they have taken from
us this day. Prince von Dessau, hasten immediately to our army
at Prague. I command the Prince of Prussia to raise the siege
there at once. He shall call all his generals together, and hold
council with them as to the most suitable mode of retreat. He shall
determine with them how the siege can best be raised ; to avoid, as
far as possible, the appearance of flying from their enemy. With
gay music they should leave their posts ; they should not all leave
together, but in groups, so as to mislead the enemy. In small com-
panies should also the retreat through Bohemia to Lausitz be made,
for it would be difficult for a large army to pass this mountainous
district ; but they should remain as near together as possible, choos-
ing the widest, most convenient roads. These are the orders you
are to deliver my brother, the Prince of Prussia, and his generals.
I give to the prince the command of this portion of my army, and
require of him to hasten to Lausitz. I will join him in Bautzen.
And then, gentlemen, we will seek an occasion to repay our enemies
for their civilities of to-day. "
The generals had listened to him with breathless attention ; and
as he now dismissed them, with a glorious smile upon his lips, they
repeated unanimously his last words, " We will repay our enemies
for their civilities. "
As if inspired by this shout, the soldiers, lying about the market
210 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
place, at a slight distance from the king, broke into a loud hurrah,
and shouted, "Long live our king !"
The king turned slowly toward them, but when he saw all that
remained of his noble army, he became pale, and pressed his lips
tightly together, as if to suppress a cry of horror. Then advancing,
followed by his generals, to where his weary, wounded soldiers
were lying, he said :
"Children, is this all that is left of you?"
" Yes, father, we are the last, " said an old gray-headed officer,
standing before the king. " There were many thousands of us, now
there are two hundred and fifty."
"Two hundred and fifty !" repeated the king, with a bitter smile.
"And it was not our fault," continued the old officer, "that we
did not fall with the rest. We fought as bravely as they ; but Death
did not want us. Perhaps he thought it best to leave a few of us, to
guard our king. We all think so ! Some were left to repay those
abominable Saxons for their to-day's work. "
"And why alone the Saxons?" asked the king.
" Because it was those infamous Saxon troops that hewed down
our regiment. They fell upon us like devils, and striking their
cursed swords into us, cried out, 'This is for Striegau !'"
" Ah ! you see, " cried the king, " that while beating you, they
could but think of the many times you had conquered them."
" They shall think of this again, father, " said another soldier,
raising himself with great pain from the ground. " Wait until our
wounds have healed, and we will repay them with interest. "
" You are wounded, Henry ?" said the king.
" Yes, your majesty, in the arm. "
"And old Klaus?"
"Is dead!"
"And Fritz Verder?"
"Dead! He lies with the others upon the battle-field. There
are seven hundred and fifty of us in heaven, and only two hundred
and fifty on earth. But those above, as well as below, still cry
'Long live our king !'"
" Long live our king, " cried they all, rising.
The king made no reply ; his eye passed from one to the other
pale, exhausted countenance, and an inexpressible sorrow overcame
him.
"Dead!" murmured he, "my faithful guards dead! seven hun-
dred and fifty of my choice men have fallen. " And overpowered by
his emotion, the king did not force back the tears welling to his
eyes. They stole softly down his cheek, and Frederick was not
ashamed. He did not blush, because his warriors had seen him weep
THE INIMICAL BROTHERS. 211
"Children," cried the old officer, after a pause, and wiping the
tears from his weary eyes, "from now on it will be glorious to die .
for when we are dead, our king weeps for us. "
CHAPTER VIII.
THE INIMICAL BROTHERS.
" THE king comes ! The king is entering Bautzen !"
This announcement brought pale terror to the hearts of the Prince
of Prussia and his generals. They who had heretofore sprang joy-
fully to meet the call of their king, now trembled at his glance.
They must now present to him the sad and despoiled remnant of
that great army which, under the command of the Prince Augustus
William of Prussia, had made the retreat from Lausitz.
It had, indeed, been the most fearful retreat ever attempted by
the Prussian troops. It had cost them more than the bloodiest
battle, and they had suffered more from hardships during the last
few days than ever before during a whole campaign. They had
marched over narrow, stony, rugged mountain -paths, between hills
and horrible abysses, sometimes climbing upward, sometimes de-
scending. Thousands died from exhaustion; thousands pressed
backward, crushed by those in the front ; thousands, forced onward
by those in the rear, had stumbled and fallen into fathomless cav-
erns, which lay at the foot of these mountain passes, yawning like
open graves. If a wheel broke, the wagon was burned ; there was
no time for repairs, and if left in the path, it interrupted the pas-
sage of the flying army. At last, in order to facilitate the flight,
the provision-wagons were burned, and the bread divided amongst
the soldiers ; the equipages and pontoon -wagons were also burned.
Exhausted by their unusual exertions, beside themselves from pain
and unheard-of suffering the whole army was seized with a death-
panic.
The soldiers had lost not only all faith in their good fortune, but
all faith in their leaders. Thousands deserted ; thousands fled to
escape death, which seemed to mock at and beckon to them from
every pointed rock and eveiy dark cavern.*
While one part of the army deserted or died of hunger or exhaus-
tion, another part fought with an intrenched enemy, for three long
days, in the narrow pass of Gabel, under the command of General
von Puttkammer. They fought like heroes, but were at last obliged
to surrender, with two thousand mon and seven cannon. Utterly
* Warner's " Campaigns of Frederick the Great"
212 FREDEEICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
broken by these losses, dead and dying from starvation and weari-
ness, the army drew off toward Zittau.
There was but one thought which sustained the wearied, and
lent strength to the starving. In Zittau were immense magazines
of grain. In Zittau, the rich Saxon city, which throughout all
Saxony was called the gold-mine, they dared hope for rest and op-
portunity to recover.
Before this unhappy army reached Zittau, Duke Charles of Loth-
ringen was in advance of them. With wanton cruelty he reduced
the industrious, open city to ashes, destroyed the Prussian maga-
zines, and, with his army, trampled upon the ruins and the corpses
of this unfortified town. The Prussians had now lost their last hope.
They encamped by Lodau, and after a short rest, advanced to
Bautzen, which city the king had appointed for the reunion of the
two army corps. And now, one day after the arrival of this mis-
erable remnant of an army, the king entered the camp of Bautzen.
The unhappy moment was at hand ; they must now meet the
stern eye of the king. These were bold, heroic generals the Prince
of Prussia, Von Bevern, Von Wurtemberg, Von Dessau, Winter-
feldt, Goltz, Ziethen, Krokow, and Schmettau. Bravely, trium-
phantly had they fought in all previous battles, but now, amidst
defeat and disaster, they must meet the eye of the king. This was
more dangerous to them than the most deadly battle, and they
shrank appalled before this fearful encounter.
Silently, and frowning darkly, the generals mounted their
horses, and rode down the highway the Prince of Prussia in ad-
vance, and by his side the Duke of Wurtemberg. And now, in
front of them, in an open space, they saw the king. He was on his
horse, and looked sternly toward them. The Prince of Prussia trem-
bled, and, involuntarily checking his horse, he stooped with a
weary smile toward the duke.
"I have a feeling," said he, in low tones, "as if my fate was
advancing threateningly, in the form of my brother. It glowers
upon me with a glance which announces that I am condemned to
death. Look, duke! my sentence is written in the raging eye of
the king. "
"The king's wrath will not fall upon you alone," whispered the
duke, ft but upon us all. This is a wild tempest, which threatens us
all in the same moment with destruction. "
"A tempest? yes! the thunder rolls over all, but the stroke of
lightning falls only upon one ; and I I am the one, " said the prince,
solemnly ; " I am the sacrificial offering chosen by the king, with
which he will seek to propitiate the frowning gods of destiny. "
"God forbid !" said the duke, sadly. "The king will be just!
THE INIMICAL BROTHERS. 213
He will see that these frightful misfortunes were unavoidable ; that
we are innocent. " He will listen to our explanations ; he "
"I tell you," said Augustus William, "he will demand a subject
for his scorn. I shall be this sacrifice ! Well, so let it be ; I am
willing to be offered vp for my fatherland ! Let us go onward,
duke. " He drew his bridle and they rode forward.
The king remained immovable in the same spot, his proud head
erect, and his icy glance fixed steadily upon them.
As they drew nearer, and could no longer doubt that he recog-
nized them, the king moved slowly round, and turned his back
upon them. They were greatly embarrassed undecided what to
do ; they looked to the prince, in the hope that he would advance
and announce himself to the king, and compel him to notice them.
Prince Augustus William did not advance ; he stood firm and im-
movable, as if moulded in brass. No muscle of his face moved, but
his pale and tightly-compressed lips slighly trembled. The generals
followed his example. Silently, immovably they stood behind him,
their eyes fixed upon the king, who remained still with his back
turned to them.
There was a long and painful pause ; not a word was spoken.
Those who were arranging the tents for the king's troops were mov-
ing actively about, and now they drew near with their measuring
line, exactly to the spot upon which the king stood. He was forced
to take another position ; he turned his horse, and stood exactly in
front of his generals. His countenance was not calm and cold, it
flashed with rage. The Prince of Prussia had the courage to brave
his anger, and, drawing near, he bowed profoundly.
The king did not answer his greeting, and, indeed, appeared not
to see him. A black cloud was on his brow, and it became still
blacker as the other generals dared to approach and salute him.
Suddenly, in that tone of voice he was accustomed to use only upon
the field of battle, the king called out :
" Goltz, come here !"
The general advanced from the circle, with a firm military bear-
ing, and approached the king.
" Goltz, " said he, loudly, and looking as if he wished to crush
the unhappy general " Goltz, tell my brother and the other generals
that if I did justice, I would take off their heads Winterfeldt only
excepted. " *
A murmur of discontent was heard amongst the generals, and
every eye was fixed angrily upon Winterfeldt. He turned deadly
pale, and looked down, as if ashamed of the exception the king had
* The king's own words. "Characteristics of the Seven Years' War. "
214 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
made, and dared not gaze upon those whose guilt he shared, and
whose punishment he escaped.
The king fixed his eye so piercingly upon the murmurers, that
they felt his glance upon them, without daring to meet it. Only
the Prince of Prussia drew still nearer to the king.
" Sire, " said he, in a calm voice, " my duty demands that I should
give your majesty a list of the army. Will you be graciously
pleased to acccept it from me?" He took the paper from his pocket,
and handed it to the king, who snatched it from him hastily, and
turned his back again upon them.
"Withdraw, messieurs," said he, "your presence oppresses me ;
you remind me of the disgraceful defeat my army has suffered,
through the guilt of its leaders. "
"Sire," said the Duke of Bevern, "will your majesty listen to
our justification ?"
"Justification !" cried the king, with flashing eyes " if this un-
paralleled disgrace which you have all brought upon my army could
be justified, I might pity ; but I must curse you. Go, sir duke, 1
will not look upon you." And springing with youthful activity
from his horse, he entered his tent.
The generals were alone. They looked upon each other's death-
like faces with suppressed scorn upon their trembling lips, and tears
of rage in their eyes.
"Shall we bear this shame silently?" said one.
"Shall we allow ourselves to be scolded like schoolboys?" said
another. "Shall we suffer foul accusations to be brought against
us, and no opportunity granted for justification?"
As the murmur of the generals became louder, the Prince of Prus-
sia, who had been standing aside in deep thought, came forward.
An expression of calm resolve was written upon his noble features.
" No, gentlemen, you shall not suffer this. I undertake to justify
you to the king. "
" Do not attempt it, prince, " said the Duke of Wurtemberg "at
least, not in this hour. The king will crush you in his rage !"
Prince Augustus William cast his eyes to heaven, saying, " I am
in the hands of God. I would rather die by the king's rage than to
endure his contempt. The king made me commander-in-chief of
this army corps, and accuses me of failure in duty ! He shall hear
my defence. As a Hohenzollern, as a general, as his brother, I de-
mand the right to make my report. " He advanced hastily toward
the king's tent, but the Duke of Bevern held him back.
"Will your royal highness allow me to accompany you?" said he.
"The king's scorn fell upon me personally, and I also demand a
hearing. "
THE INIMICAL BROTHERS. 215
"No one shall accompany me," said the prince, solemnly.
" None but God shall be witness to what we have to say. Wait for
me, therefore, gentlemen. I shall soon return." He bowed and
entered the king's tent.
" Announce me to his majesty, " he said to the guard, who re-
turned immediately and opened the inner door of the tent.
The prince entered with a firm step and head erect the door
closed behind him the two brothers were alone.
The king sat upon a camp-stool by a little table covered with
papers. He held in his hand the paper which the prince had given
him, and appeared to be reading it eagerly. The prince stood for
some time silently at the door ; at last, weary of waiting, he entered
the tent and stepped directly before the king.
King Frederick arose and fixed his great eyes scornfully upon his
brother. " I gave you an army corps of thirty-six thousand men,
and you bring me back sixteen thousand ! Where have you left my
Boldiera?"
"They lie in the narrow pass of Gabel in the chasms of the Erz
mountains they have died of hunger and thirst, and they have
deserted, " said Prince Augustus, solemnly.
"And you dare to tell me this?" said the king.
u I dare to tell you what fate has brought upon us. "
"Fate?" cried the king, shrugging his shoulders. "Fate is ever
the excuse for the crimes and follies of man. Your obstinacy and
your disobedience are what you call fate. Prince Augustus William
of Prussia, how did you dare to act contrary to my instructions,
and to conduct this retreat through the mountains, and not by the
highways?"
"Your majesty gave me no instructions," said the prince,
eagerly. "Your majesty commanded me to take counsel of my
generals in every movement, and I did so. I should not have re-
treated through the mountains had they not advised it in considera-
tion of the near approach of the enemy. But I do not say this to
excuse myself, or to accuse them, but to prove to my brother the
king that it was unjust to place me under the guardianship and
direction of his generals unjust to place a mentor by my side who
is my enemy who hates me and seeks my destruction !"
"Do you dare to reproach me?" said the king, in a thundering
voice.
"In this hour I dare all, 11 said the prince, steadily. "This is a
decisive hour between you and me, my brother. It is a strife of
intellect, of spirit ; and although I know I am too weak to conquer,
I will at least fall with honor with my sword in my hand ! I shall
fall, but you shall not consider me a cowardly mute who does not
216 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
dare to defend himself. I know that I have been slandered to you ;
I know that those whom you honor with your friendship are spies
upon my every word and look, and report to your majesty what they
hear and what they do not hear what is true and what is not true.
I know I have been robbed of my brother's love, but I will not con-
sent to the loss of his respect and consideration. Sire, Winterfeldt
wrote to you ; I know that he did so. If he wrote that I was obsti-
nate and self-willed, and alone answerable for the disasters of the
army,* I call God to witness that he slandered me. Your majesty
Bpeaks of instructions. I received none. I would remind you that
I entreated you in vain to give me partial instructions that I wrote
down your majesty's verbally expressed opinions, and implored you
to add to them your approval, or written remarks and explanations, f
Your majesty returned the paper without signature or remark. I
alone should bear the responsibility, and if this sad retreat should
end disastrously, the whole world might say, 'This was the work of
the Prince of Prussia !' Look you, my brother, I know, I feel this.
The lost battle of Collin demanded an offering, and I was predes-
tined for the sacrifice. "
The king uttered a cry of rage, and advanced against the prince
without outstretched arm, but suddenly recovered his self-control,
folded his arms, and stared coldly at the prince.
" I have listened quietly to you, hoping always I might possibly
find in your words a glimmer of excuse for your blasphemous deeds.
I find none. Have you finished, or have you still something to
say?"
" I have this to say, sire : I demand that my conduct be inves-
tigated."
" Woe to you if I do this woe to you if I listen to your bold, in-
sane demand !" Stepping before the prince, and fixing his eye upon
him, he said: "You have acted not like a Prussian, not like a
general of Prussian troops, but like an enemy like an ally of Austria
and of France, who sought only for means to destroy the Prussian
army and put an end to this war. I know that it never had your
approval, because directed against your beloved France. "
" Ah, my brother, you distrust me !" cried the prince, fiercely.
" Yes, I distrust you, " said the king, eagerly " I distrust you,
and you merit it ! You have just said that this was an important
hour between us. Well, then, it shall be so. I accept this strife of
words which you have the audacity to offer me. This was not cau-
tiously, not wisely done, on your part. You yourself have armed
me my weapons are sharp. I have suffered much during my whole
* Warner's "Campaigns of Frederick the Great."
t Becueil des Lettres du Koi de Frusse et du Prince de Frusse."
THE INTERVIEW IN FREDERICK'S TENT AFTER THE DEFEAT.
THE INIMICAL BROTHERS. 217
life because of you, my brother. This began even in the days of
our childhood, and will, as it appears, follow me to the grave.
You were the favorite of my father, and I remember well that he
one day proposed to me to relinquish the throne in your favor. I
withstood him. I did not pay for this opposition with my life, but
with my life's happiness. I will not account this against you ; per-
haps you were innocent ; but it appears to me you have not forgotten
our father's wish that you look upon me as a usurper, who has
robbed you of your throne. You act as if you had the right to
measure and criticise all my undertakings, and to make yourself a
judge over me. I undertook this war with the conviction of my
right and my royal duty. You dared to protest against it. You
dared, in the presence of my generals, to speak of your claims and
the claims of your children ! Oh, sir, you were already thinking of
the time when you would lay my head in the vault and walk over
my dead body to a throne ! In that hour you stood no longer by my
side as my subject, as my brother, as my friend, but as an ambitious
prince royal, who hates his king who keeps him from his crown,
and who is hated of the king because he reminds him of his death !
And during no moment since then could you have denied this
hatred."
"Oh, my brother!" said the prince, painfully, " your own hatred
has blinded you and made you unjust. 1 have always loved and
admired you, even when I did not approve of your undertakings. "
" And yet it was you, you alone, " said the king, hastily, " who
dared, after the fatal disaster of Collin, to utter loud cries of grief
and despair. When my courier brought to you and the generals
and the army the mournful news of the lost battle of Collin, in place
of strengthening and encouraging my warriors consoling and in-
spiring them with confidence in their royal leader you dared, in
the presence of all my generals, to cry and whimper, not over des-
tiny, not over the inconstancy of fortune, but over the conduct of
your brother and your king. In place of justifying me to my silent
and cast-down generals, you accused me boldly, and made my mis-
fortune my crime. " *
" It is true, murmured the prince, " distress and grief overcame
me and robbed me of my reason. "
" Even because you were so wise and bold a warrior, " said the
king, with a cold smile, " I wished to give you an opportunity to
prove your genius to my whole people, whose sovereign you will one
day be. Because you wept and clamored before my generals over
my faults as a leader, I wished you to prove to them that you were
capable of commanding and bringing good out of evil. I trusted
* Betzow'u "Characteristics of Frederick."
16
218 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
you with my third army corps I expected it to retreat safely and
surely under your command, after I had almost led it to destruction
in a bloody, disastrous battle. I gave you the opportunity to make
yourself a god in the eyes of my soldiers, a glorious model to my
generals. What use have you made of these advantages? You
bring me crippled, hungry, desperate soldiers ! You bring me gen-
erals covered with shame, and blushing over their guilt. If I should
deal with them as they deserved, I would give them over to a court-
martial and they would be condemned. "
" And still I am not conscious of any fault, " said the prince. " I
dare to say fate was against me, and that I am wholly innocent. "
" And I repeat to you your conduct has been that of an ally of
France, who wished destruction to the Prussians, and to close this
hated war !"
"If that were so, I would be a traitor 1" said the prince.
"And who will dare say that you are not?" cried the king.
"Who will say that he who, while I was engaged in war with
France, exchanged the most tender letters with the former French
ambassador Valori, and complained to this Frenchman of the obsti-
nacy of his brother, who is also his king? Who will say that this
man is not a traitor? Was it not known to you, my brother, when
you wrote to Valori, that the French had already invaded my West-
phalian provinces? It was known to you and yet you dared to
write to a Frenchman that you were convinced of the decline of my
kingdom. And yet you dared to bring charges against me, and to
say : ' Ce seront mes enfants qui seront les victimes des f antes pas-
sees. ' Did you not know that it was the Marquise de Pompadour
who gave occasion for this war? You knew it, and yet you com-
missioned Valori to entreat the marquise to have her portrait painted
for you ! Now, sir, I ask you, in all candor, if these are not the
acts of a traitor?"
The prince made a passionate exclamation, and laid his hand
upon his sword.
"You dare to dishonor me, sire !"
" I dare it ! I dare to tell you the truth, " said the king, solemnly.
" Take your hand from your sword the truth is an enemy that you
cannot contend against with weapons, but with deeds, and your con-
duct testifies against you. "
The prince breathed heavily, and turned deadly pale.
"The contest is over. Your majesty fights against me with
weapons which I do not possess, and would not dare use, and against
which I cannot defend myself. You open my private letters, and
from the harmless confidences of friendship you make a traitor of
me. To call me a traitor, is to degrade me. I am dishonored ; and
THE INIMICAL BROTHERS. 219
with a dishonored culprit your majesty cannot contend. I will
therefore withdraw. No one will see the wounds you have inflicted
which have pierced my heart ; but, I tell you, my brother, I will
die of these wounds. "
"And in heaven, I suppose, you will accuse me as your mur-
derer?" said the king, ironically.
" No ! in heaven I will pray for my fatherland, " said Prince
Augustus William, mildly. He bowed respectfully, turned, and
left the room.
Without stood the generals, maintaining a solemn silence. When
they saw the prince appear at the door of the king's tent, so pale,
so suffering, a prophetic warning filled every breast. It seemed to
them that a dying man approached them, and with inexpressible
sorrow held out his hand for a last farewell.
" It is passed ! The battle is ended !"
At this moment the adjutant of the king left the tent, and ap-
proached the generals, who stood near the prince.
"His majesty commands you to see that the soldiers of the third
army corps are kept, as far as it is possible, entirely separated from
the rest of the army. You will immediately convey the order to the
king's army, that all intercourse between them and the third army
corps is forbidden, as this corps seems to have lost all courage and all
honorable feeling. " *
" The king's commands shall be obeyed, " said the generals, coldly.
The prince was completely overcome by this last blow, and
leaned for a moment upon the arm of the Duke of Wurtemberg ; he
soon recovered himself, and turning to General Schultz, he said :
" Go and bring me, from the king, the watchword of the third
army corps. "
General Schultz withdrew, but returned quickly from the king's
tent, with a dark frown upon his face.
"Well," said the prince, "have you the watchword?"
" No, your royal highness ! The king says, that for cowards and
fugitives he has no watchword, and he commanded me to go to the
devil. "
A murmur of race was heard amongst the generals. The prince
let his glance wander from one to the other of these dark faces.
" Gentlemen. " said he, " the tempest will soon be over, and the
sun will shine again for you ; I am the only cloud now round about
you, and I will withdraw. "
"What ! will you desert us?" said the generals, sadly.
"Do I not belong to the third army corps?" said the prince, with
a painful smile. " It may be that the king will command his sol-
* Kustrin, "Characteristics from the Life of Frederick the Great"
220 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
diets to have no intercourse with the commander of the third army
corps, and you can understand that I prefer to anticipate him."
" Will your highness allow me to accompany you ?" said the Duke
of Bevern. " I also will not allow myself to be despised and railed
at without any opportunity accorded me of explanation. "
The prince shook his head.
" You must remain, general ; the army cannot spare its brave
leaders. I, however I must go. I will be the peace-offering for
you all. I am sure this will content my brother the king."
"Allow me, at least, to accompany your royal highness," said
General Schmettau. " The king commanded me, through his adju-
tant, to withdraw, and never dare to present myself before his eyes
again. I also must leave the army. "
The prince gave him his hand.
" You are, then, a welcome companion. Let us ride on to Baut-
zen, where we can refresh ourselves, and then go on to Dresden."
"Will you really leave us?" said the Duke of Wurtemberg, sadly.
"Would you have me wait for still further degradation?" said
the prince. " No, it is enough more than I can bear. My horse !
General, let us mount. "
The two horses were brought forward. The generals placed
themselves in front, to take leave of their former commander- in-
chief, with all military honor.
Prince Augustus rode slowly on. Everywhere he met sad faces
and eyes filled with tears. Tears indeed were in his own eyes, but
he would not weep not now ; there was time enough for tears. He
could weep during the sad remainder of his life. He forced his
voice to be firm, and, waving his sword to the generals, as a last
greeting, he said :
"I hope no one of you will hold me for a coward. I am forced
by the king to leave the army. " He turned his horse, and, followed
by Schmettau,, with head erect, he moved slowly off.
"Now, by Heaven," cried Ziethen, "he shall not leave the camp
in this contemptible way ! I will give him a suitable guard. Let
the king rage; I can stand it!" He nodded to an officer. "Listen,
Von Wendt, take half a company for a guard, and follow imme-
diately behind the prince, to Bautzen."
A few moments later, an officer sprang along the highway to
Bautzen, accompanied by his hussars ; they soon overtook the
prince, who greeted them kindly.
" Schmettau, " said he, " Death avoided me so long as I was on
the battle- field, now I bear him along with me ; and thus must it be,
till the pale king of terrors carries me to another world. " He turned
his eyes away from the Prussian camp, and rode slowly to Bautzen.
THE LETTERS. 221
CHAPTER IX.
THE LETTERS.
A FEW hours later a courier rode into the camp. He came from
Bautzen, and had a letter from the Prince of Prussia to his royai
brother. The king was still in his tent, busily engaged in looking
over the army list. He took his brother's letter, and, opening it
with evident anger, read :
"Your majesty's commands, and the incidents of our last meet-
ing, have taught me that I have lost my honor and my reputation.
As I have nothing to reproach myself with, this causes me much
sorrow, but no humiliation. I am convinced that I was not actu-
ated by obstinacy, and that I did not follow the advice of incom-
petent men. All the generals in the third army corps commanded
by me, will testify to this. I consider it necessary to request your
majesty to have my conduct investigated. Your majesty would
thereby do me a kindness. I have, therefore, no right to count
upon it. My health is much impaired since the war. I have with-
drawn to Bautzen for its restoration, and have requested the Duke
of Bevern to give you all the information relative to the army. In
spite of my unhappiness, my daily prayer is, and shall be, that every
undertaking of your majesty shall be crowned with glory.
" Your unhappy brother,
" AUGUSTUS WILLIAM. "
The king read this letter several times ; then taking up his pen,
he wrote hastily :
" MY DEAR BROTHER : Your improper conduct has greatly dis-
turbed my equanimity. Not my enemies, but your want of princi-
ple, has caused all these disasters. My generals are not to be ex-
cused. They have either given you bad advice, or have agreed too
readily to your foolish plans. The one is as bad as the other. Your
ears are accustomed to flattery, my brother. Daun did not flatter
you, and you now see the consequences. But little hope remains.
I shall commence the attack if we do not conquer, we shall die to-
gether. I do not bewail the loss of your heart, but rather your utter
incapacity and want of judgment. I tell you this plainly, for with
one who has perhaps but a few days to live, there is no use of de-
ception. I wish you more happiness than has fallen to my lot, and
hope that your misfortunes and disappointments may teach you to
act with more wisdom and judgment where matters of importance
are concerned. Many of the painful events I now look forward to,
1 ascribe to you. You and your children will suffer from their re-
222 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY
suits much more than myself. Be assured that I have always loved
you, and will continue to do so until my death. Your brother,
" FREDERICK. "
When the king had finished his letter, he read it over. " I can-
not take back one word I have said, " murmured he, softly. " Were
he not my brother, he should be court-martialled. But history
shall not have to relate more than one such occurrence of a Hohen-
zollern. Enough family dramas and tragedies have occurred in my
reign to furnish scandalous material for future generations ; I will
not add to them. My brother can withdraw quietly from these
scenes he can pray while we fight he can cultivate the peaceful
arts while we are upon the battle-field, offering up bloody sacrifices
to Mars. Perhaps we will succeed in gaining an honorable peace for
Prussia, and then Augustus William may be a better king than I
have been. Prussia still clings to me she needs me. "
He sealed the letter, then calling his valet, ordered him to send
it off immediately. As he disappeared, the king's countenance be-
came once more clouded and disturbed. " Life makes a man very
poor," said he, softly ; "the longer he lives, the more solitary he be-
comes. How rich I was when I began life how rich when ]
mounted the throne ! Possessing many friends, sisters, brothers,
and many charming illusions. The world belonged to me then,
with all its joy, all its glory. And now? Where are these friends'
Lost to me, either by death or inconstancy ! Where are my brothers,
sisters? Their hearts have turned from me their love has grown
cold! Where are my joyous illusions? Scattered to the winds!
Alas, I am now undeceived, and if the whole world seemed at one
time to belong to me, that little spot of earth, paid for with blood
and anguish, is no longer mine. Every illusion but one has been
torn from my heart the thirst for glory still remains. I have bid
adieu to love, to happiness, but I still believe in fame, and must at
least have one laurel- wreath upon my coffin. May death then strike
me at his will the sooner the better, before my heart has become
perfectly hardened ! And I feel that time is not far distant. "
The curtain of his tent was at this moment drawn back, and his
secretary, Le Catt, whose acquaintance he had made during his
visit to Amsterdam, entered with several letters in his hand. The
king advanced eagerly to meet him.
" Well, Le Catt, " said he, " has the courier come from Berlin ?"
"Yes, sire, he has come," said Le Catt, sighing, "but I fear he
brings no good news. "
" No good news ? Has the enemy forced his way so far ?"
" An enemy has, sire ; but not the one your majesty is thinking
ofl"
THE LETTERS. 223
"How know you what enemy I mean?" said the king, impa-
tiently. " Is it the Russians, or the French ?"
" None of your mortal enemies, sire ; and the mourning which
now reigns in Berlin and will soon reign throughout Prussia, is
caused by no enemy of your majesty but by Providence. "
The king looked at him earnestly for a moment. " I understand, "
said he. " Some one of my family has died ; is it not so?"
"Yes, sire; your "
" Be still !" said the king, sternly. " I do not yet wish to know
I have not the strength to bear it wait a while. "
Folding his hands upon his breast, he paced up and down his
tent several times, laboring hard for breath. He stood still, and
leaning against the window, said: "Now, Le Catt, I can endure
any thing ; speak who is it?"
" Sire, it is her majesty. "
"My wife?" interrupted the king.
" No, sire ; her majesty "
"My mother!" cried the king, in a heart-broken voice. "My
mother !"
He stood thus for a while, with his hands before his face, his
form bowed down and trembling like an oak swayed by a storm.
Tears escaped through his hands and fell slowly to the ground
groans of agony were wrung from him.
Le Catt could stand it no longer ; he approached the king and
ventured to say a few consoling words.
"Do not seek to comfort me," said the king ; "you do not know
what inexpressible pain this loss has caused me. "
" Yes, sire, I well know, " said Le Catt, " for the queen-mother
was the noblest, most gracious princess that ever lived. I can
therefore understand your sorrow. "
"No, you cannot, " said the king, raising his pale, tearful coun-
tenance. " You carry your sorrow upon your lips I upon my heart.
The queen was the best of women, and my whole land may well
mourn for her. It will not be forced grief, for every one who had
the happiness to approach loved and admired her for her many
virtues for her great kindness. And I feel, I know, that sorrow
for the ruin of Prussia has caused her death. She was too noble a
princess, too tender a mother, to outlive Prussia's destruction and
her son's misfortune. "
" But your majesty knows that the queen was suffering from an
incurable disease. "
"It is true I know it," said the king, sinking slowly upon his
camp-stool. "I feared that I might never see her again, and still
this news comes totally unexpected. "
224 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Your majesty will overcome this great grief as a philosopher, a
hero."
" Ah, my friend, " said the king, sadly, " philosophy is a solace
in past and future sufferings, but is utterly powerless for present
grief ; I feel my heart and strength fail. For the last two years I
have resembled a tottering wall. Family misfortune, secret pain
public sorrow, continual disappointment, these have been my nour-
ishment. What is there wanting to make of me another Job '.' If I
wish to survive these distressing circumstances, I must become a
stoic. For I cannot bring the philosophy of Epicurus to bear upon
my great sorrows. And still, " added the king, the dejected look
disappearing from his countenance, and giving place to one of
energy and determination, "still, I will not be overcome. Were all
the elements to combine against me, I will not fall beneath them."
" Ah 1" cried Le Catt, " once more is my king the hero, who will
not only overcome his grief, but also his enemies. "
"God grant that you are a true prophet!" cried the king, earn-
estly. " This is a great era ; the next few months will be decisive
for Prussia : I will restore her or die beneath her ruins !"
"You will restore !" cried Le Catt, with enthusiasm.
"And when I have made Prussia great, " said the king, relapsing
into his former gloom, " my mother will not be here to rejoice with
me. Each one of my home-returning soldiers will have some one
a mother, a sweetheart to meet them with tears of joy, to greet
them tenderly. I shall be alone. "
"Your people will advance, gladly, to meet you ; they will greet
you with tears of joy. "
"Ah, yes," cried the king, with a bitter smile, "they will ad-
vance to meet me joyfully ; but, were I to die the same day, they
would cry : ' Le roi est mort vive le roi ! ' and would greet my suc-
cessor with equal delight. There is nothing personal in the love of
a people to its sovereign ; they love not in me the man, but the
king. But my mother loved not the king the warrior ; she loved
her son with her whole heart, and God knows he had but that one
heart to trust in. Leave me, Le Catt. Seek not to console me.
Soon the king will gain the mastery. Now I am but the son, who
wishes to be alone with the mother. Go. " Fearing he had wounded
Le Catt, lie pressed his hand tenderly.
Le Catt raised it to his lips and covered it with kisses and tears.
The king withdrew it gently, and signed to him to leave the room.
Now he was alone alone with his pain, with his grief alone
with his mother. And, truly, during this hour he was but th
loving son ; his every thought was of his mother ; he conversed witl
her, he wept over her ; but, as his sorrow became more subdued, he
IN THE CASTLE AT DRESDEN. 225
took his flute from the table, the one constant companion of his life.
As the soft, sweet tones were wafted through the tent, he seemed to
hear his mother whispering words of love to him, to feel her hal-
lowed kiss upon his brow. And now he was king once more. As
he heard without the sound of trumpets, the beating of drums, the
loud shouts and hurrahs of his soldiers, a new fire burned in his
eyes, he laid his flute aside, and listened for a time to the joyous
shouts ; then raising his right hand, he said : " Farewell, mother ;
you died out of despair for my defeat at Collin, but I swear to you
I will revenge your death and my defeat tenfold upon my enemies
when I stand before them again in battle array. Hear me, spirit of
my mother, and give to your son your blessing 1"
CHAPTER X.
IN THE CASTLE AT DRESDEN.
THE Queen Maria Josephine of Poland, Princess elect of Saxony,
paced her room violently ; and with deep emotion and painful
anxiety she listened to every noise which interrupted the stillness
that surrounded her.
" If he should be discovered, " she murmured softly, " should this
letter be found, all is betrayed, and I am lost. "
She shuddered, and even the paint could not conceal her sudden
pallor. She soon raised herself proudly erect, and her eyes resumed
their usual calm expression.
" Bah ! lost, " she said, shrugging her shoulders, " who will dare
to seize a queen and condemn her for fighting for her honor and her
country ? Only the insolent and arrogant Margrave of Brandenburg
could have the temerity to insult a queen and a woman in my per-
son, and he, thank God, is crushed and will never be able to rally.
But where is Schonberg, " she said, uneasily ; "if he does not come
to-day, all is lost all !"
Loud voices in the antechamber interrupted her ; she listened in
breathless expectation. "It is he," she murmured, "it is Schon-
berg ; the officer on guard forbids his entrance. What insults I
endure ! I am treated as a prisoner in my own castle ; I am even
denied the right of seeing my own servants. "
She ceased, and listened again ; the voices became louder and
more violent. " He is, apparently, speaking so loudly to attract my
attention, " she said ; " I will go to his relief. " She crossed the
chamber hastily, and opened the door leading into the anteroom,
226 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"What means this noise?" she said, angrily ; "how dare you be
guilty of such unseemly conduct?"
Silence followed this question. The two gentlemen, who had
just exchanged such angry words, were dumb, approached the
queen, and bowed profoundly.
"I beg your majesty's forgiveness," said the Prussian officer,
" my commander ordered me this morning to admit no one until he
had seen your highness himself. "
" I wished to announce to your majesty, " said Schonberg, " that
I had returned from my estate, and desired the favor of being again
received into your service ; this gentleman refused to allow me to
enter."
The queen turned upon the officer with an expression of con-
tempt. "Am I a prisoner, sir, allowed to see no one but my
jailer?"
" Your majesty favors me with a question I am unable to answer, "
sa.d the officer ; " I am a soldier ; and must obey the command of
those above me. I know not whether your majesty is a prisoner. "
The queen reddened ; she felt that, in the excitement of passion,
she had forgotten her rank and dignity.
" It is true, " she said, " it is not for you to answer this question.
I must demand a reply from your king. You are but a machine,
moved by foreign power. I think you will not dare to keep my
servants from me ; " and, without allowing the confused officer time
to answer, she turned to the chamberlain, Baron von Schonberg.
" I am delighted to receive you again ; you shall resume your service
immediately, as you desire it ; follow me to my room, I have an
important letter to dictate to you. "
She stepped over the sill of the door, and gave the chamberlain
a sign to follow her ; as he approached the door, however, the officer
stepped before him.
" Forgive me, " he said, in a pleading tone ; " I have strict orders
to admit only those who usually surround the queen ; do you under-
stand, sir, to admit no one to her majesty this morning? I can
make no exceptions. "
" I belong to those who usually surround her majesty, " said the
chamberlain ; " I have had an eight days' leave of absence ; that
cannot make an exception against me. "
"Baron von Schonberg, did I not order you to resume your
service, and to follow me?" said the queen ; " why do you not enter?"
"Your majesty sees that I am prevented."
" Mercy, your highness, mercy, " pleaded the officer, " I know I
am seemingly wanting in reverence toward the holy person of the
queen, but I cannot act otherwise. "
IN THE CASTLE AT DRESDEN. 227
Maria Josephine looked proud and commanding ; her eyes flashed
angrily, and, with a loud voice, she exclaimed :
"I command you to allow my servant to enter ! do you hear?
command it as a sovereign !"
The officer stepped back.
" Go in, sir, I have not the courage to withstand this command. "
For a moment the queen's pale face crimsoned with joy, but she
suppressed her emotion immediately and motioned the chamberlain,
with proud dignity, to follow.
Schonberg passed the officer, and entered the room.
" At last, " sighed Maria Josephine, as the door closed behind him
"at last this torture is at an end, and I breathe again. Speak,
baron your news !" Exhausted, she fell upon the sofa, and gazed
breathlessly at the chamberlain.
" Before speaking, with your majesty's permission, I will see if
we are entirely alone if no one is listening. "
He stepped softly around the room, and searched behind the cur-
tains and furniture ; then went to the door, and looked through the
key- hole, to see if any one was without. He saw the officer sitting
motionless, at the other end of the anteroom. Satisfied with this,
he was about to open the other door, but the queen called him back.
" That is unnecessary ; no one can be concealed there. Now let
me hear quickly what you have to say. "
"I have many things to tell you," said the chamberlain, trium-
phantly. " All our undertakings have been most successful. We
may hope they will be crowned with the most desirable results. "
" Praise to God and the holy saints !" murmured the queen.
" Speak, speak ! tell me all !"
" After I left your majesty, eight days ago, I went first to my
estate, which, as your highness knows, lies near Bautzen, and in
the immediate neighborhood of the King of Prussia's camp. Dis-
guised as a peasant, with my little flock of sheep, I entered the
Prussian camp unchallenged. I wish your majesty could have had
the satisfaction of seeing what I saw. Your royal heart would have
been gladdened at the sight of those starved, exhausted, and des-
perate troops which Prince Augustus William led back from Zittau
to his august brother, the great Frederick. You would have ac-
knowledged with delight that such discouraged, demoralized troops
could no longer withstand the splendid and victorious army of the
confederates. The battle of Collin dug their graves, and the pass of
Gabel made their coffins. "
" And the Saxon dragoons decided the battle of Collin ?" said the
queen, with sparkling eyes. " Go on ! tell me more. Did you speak
with the king's chamberlain, Anderson?"
228 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Yes, your majesty, and I found him faithful. I gave him the
diamond ring which your majesty was so gracious as to send him.
He was delighted with this costly present, and swore he would let
no opportunity pass of serving you. I told him how he might safely
write to me He will inform us of all that takes place in the Prus-
sian camp, and of all the important movements of the king. "
" You are convinced of his integrity ?" said the queen.
" Entirely convinced ; he loves money, and serves us for his own
interests. He will be ready for any act, if we balance it with gold. "
The eyes of the queen sparkled, and her countenance had a threat-
ening and passionate expression ; her Spanish blood was moved,
and rushed in fever streams to her heart.
"Is he ready for any act?" she repeated. "Perhaps we could
make a decisive trial of his willingness ; but of that, later con-
tinue. "
" I learned from Anderson, that King Frederick intends to force
the confederates to another battle. When I left the camp, the king
had distributed rations to his army, and was to leave the next morn-
ing, to encounter Daun and Radasdy. "
The queen laughed mockingly.
" He then thirsts for a second Collin. As his grave is open and
his coffin made, he wishes to get the Austrian grave-diggers to bury
him. Well, we will not deny him this last service of love. "
" After leaving the Prussian camp, " continued the chamberlain,
" I threw off my disguise, and hastened with post-horses to where
Daun and Radasdy were quartered. "
"And you saw them?"
" I saw them ; I was fortunate enough to be able to deliver your
majesty's letters to General Radasdy, and I can now give your high-
ness the general's answer, and some other important papers.'' He
drew a small etui from his bosom, out of which he took a penknife ;
then taking his hat, ripped off the gold galloon, cut the rim, and
drew a paper from between the fur and the inner lining, which he
handed to the queen, with a profound bow.
While the queen was occupied breaking the seal and reading the
letter, the chamberlain was busily engaged in restoring his hat to
its former proportions. The queen's pale face brightened more and
more as she read ; with joy and triumph she glanced from the paper
at the chamberlain, and said, with a brilliant smile :
" You are really a messenger of peace ; a time will come when I
can better reward your faithful services than by words. I beg you
to open that door, and call Father Guarini."
The chamberlain obeyed her command, and Father Guarini
entered. He greeted Schonberg with a gracious nod, then fixed his
IN THE CASTLE AT DRESDEN. 229
dark and piercing eyes upon the queen, who arose humbly to receive
him.
" I hope, venerable father, that you have heard the news, brought
by our faithful baron?" said the queen, in a soft voice.
"I have heard!" replied the Jesuit father, solemnly; "I have
heard that God has delivered these heretics into our hands. We are
the chosen people to free the world of these blasphemous adversaries
of the Church. "
"What is your meaning?" asked the queen, with apparent sur-
prise.
Father Guarini looked at her significantly ; a cruel smile played
upon his thin, colorless lips.
"My daughter, we understand each other fully," said he, in a
soft, low voice ; " soul speaks to soul in such a crisis as this. When
the baron handed you this letter, when he told you that the cham-
berlain of the King of Prussia was faithful to our holy cause, ready
for any act you might approve, a door separated us ; I could not
look upon your countenance, and yet, my daughter, I read the secret
thoughts of your heart. I saw your eyes sparkle, your lips smile,
and understood your holy purpose. "
The queen trembled, and stepped shudderingly back.
"Holy father," she murmured, "have compassion with a sinful
thought, which I suppressed quickly, and which I will never listen
to again."
"Why do you call it a sinful thought?" said the priest, with a
diabolical smile. " All weapons are blessed and made holy by God,
when employed against heretics. The poison of the hemlock and
the opium-plant is part of God's holy creation. He made them as
weapons for the just against the unjust, and, when used for pious
purposes, they are sanctified means of grace. Be not ashamed of
your great thought, my daughter; if Anderson is faithful, as the
chamberlain asserts, with God's help we will soon be able to bring
this war to a close, and crush this unbelieving horde. "
"Still, I pray you still, my father," murmured the queen ; "my
whole soul shudders at this frightful suggestion ; let us not speak of
this again, let us forget it. "
" Let us not speak of it, but let us not forget it, " murmured the
priest, with a malicious smile.
The queen said hastily : " Father, such fearful weapons are not
necessary for the destruction of our enemies. Frederick of Prussia
can never rally he stands alone, has not a single ally in Germany.
This is the important news brought me by the baron, which I now
communicate to you. We have succeeded in a great enterprise ; a
mighty work has been completed by us and our allies in the cloister
230 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
of Zeven. This has been achieved by our ambassador, the pious
Duke of Lynar, and we will triumph in a glittering and bloodless
victory. Every German prince who has heretofore stood by the
traitor and heretic, Frederick of Prussia, has, at the command and
menace of the emperor, fallen off from him, and dare no longer
lend him help or influence. The men of Hesse, of Brunswick, of
Gotha, who were allied to Prussia, and who were just from fighting
with the Hanoverians against Soubise and Richelieu, have laid
down their arms and returned home. They have solemnly bound
themselves in the convention of the cloister of Zeven never again
to bear arms for the heretical and rebellious King of Prussia, who
is excommunicated by the German emperor and the holy Pope at
Rome. The contest between the Hanoverians and our French ally is
ended, and a cessation of hostilities determined upon. Uncondi-
tional peace is indeed indefinitely declared. The Hanoverians
remain inactive on the Elbe ; the Duke of Cumberland, leader of the
English troops, has returned to London,* and his adversary, the
Duke de Richelieu, to Paris. The French troops now in Germany,
under the command of the Prince Soubise, have no other enemy to
attack than Frederick, the natural enemy of us all. The King of
Prussia, who stands alone, has no other ally. "
"No ally but himself," interrupted a loud, powerful voice.
The queen turned and saw General von Fink, the Prussian com-
mander of Dresden. He had opened the door noiselessly, and had
heard the queen's last words.
Maria Josephine paled with anger, and stepping forward to
meet him, with head erect, she looked as if she would trample him
under foot.
" Sir, " she said, scarcely able to control her passion, and at the
same time trembling with terror, "who gave you permission to
enter this room?"
"My sovereign, the King of Prussia," said the general, placing
Aimself before her with stiff military courtesy. " I come not from
idle curiosity, but on important business, and your majesty must
pardon me if you find it disagreeable. "
He made a sign toward the door, and immediately an officer and
four soldiers appeared at the threshold. The commander pointed to
the chamberlain, Von Schonberg, who, pale and trembling, endeav-
ored to conceal himself behind the wide dress of the queen.
*When the Duke of Cumberland returned to London, after the convention at
the cloister of Zeven, his father, whose favorite he had been up to this time, re-
ceived him with great coldness, and said before all his ministers: "Here is my
son who has ruined me and disgraced himself. " The duke had to resign all his
honors, and died a few years later, despised by the whole nation.
IN THE CASTLE AT DRESDEN. 231
"Arrest that man, and take him off !" said the general.
Schonberg uttered a cry of alarm, and disappeared behind the
satin robe of the queen.
" What, sir ! you dare to force yourself into my room, and to
arrest my servant?" cried the queen, angrily.
The general shrugged his shoulders.
"We are living in perilous times, and every man must defend
himself from his enemies. 'Tis true your chamberlain sold some
good sheep to our army, but it appears to have been a fraudulent
transaction ; for this reason, I arrest him, and send him to Berlin
for trial. There it will be difficult for him to carry on his corre-
spondence with the traitorous chamberlain of the king. "
The general ceased speaking, and gazing at the pale, disturbed
group before him, enjoyed their horror and consternation for a
moment.
The queen was greatly embarrassed, and pressed her lips firmly
together to suppress a cry of terror. By her side stood Father
Guarini, whose face had assumed a livid pallor, and whose dark
eyes were fixed in bitter hatred upon the general. Behind the queen
the terrified face of the chamberlain was seen, his insignificant
figure being entirely concealed by the queen's robes.
" Baron von Schonberg, " said General Fink, " I order you to come
forward and to submit to your arrest. Out of respect to her majesty
the queen, you will be quiet. I should be unfortunately forced to
act with violence if you do not yield without a struggle."
The chamberlain advanced with dignity, bowing profoundly to
the queen. He said, in a trembling voice :
" I must beg your majesty graciously to dismiss me from your
service. I must obey this gentlemen, who, as it appears, is master
in the castle. "
The queen was for a moment speechless ; her voice was lost, and
her eyes were filled with tears. She said, after a long pause :
" Will you rob me of my faithful servant ? You dragged Baroness
Brtihl and Countess Ogliva to Warsaw, and now you will deprive
me of the services of this tried and constant friend. "
" I obey the commands of my king, " said the general, " and I be-
lieve your majesty must see the justice of this arrest. Had the
baron been captured in camp, he would have been shot at once as a
spy. I arrest him here and send him to Berlin, that he may defend
himself against the charge of being a traitor. "
The queen breathed heavily, she had regained her composure ;
turning to the chamberlain she said, in a voice softer and kinder
than had ever been heard from her before :
"Go, my friend, and when your loyalty is called treason by our
232 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
enemies, do not forget that your queen is thinking of you with
gratitude, and praying for you to our heavenly Father. "
She offered the chamberlain her small, white hand ; he sank
upon his knees, and covered it with his tears and kisses.
" Go, my son, " said Father Guarini, laying his hand upon Schon-
berg's head "go ; the Lord has chosen you as a blessed martyr for
our just and holy cause. The Lord will be with you, and the holy
mother Church will pray for you. "
" I go, my father may it be granted me to die for my queen !"
Turning to the general, he delivered up his sword rather tragi-
cally, and declared himself ready to depart.
The commandant signed to the officer.
" Conduct this gentleman to the carriage, and send him with a
sufficient guard to Berlin. "
CHAPTER XI
THE TE DEUM.
THE queen looked sadly after the chamberlain ; when he had dis-
appeared, she turned to the general.
" I now hope, " said she, " that you have fulfilled your orders,
and that I will be permitted to have my apartments to myself."
"I beg your majesty's pardon, " said the general, bowing respect-
fully, "but as yet I have fulfilled but the smallest portion of my
master's commands."
"How? is there still some one here whom you wish to arrest?"
said the queen.
" No, noble lady, but some one I wish to warn !"
"You are, without doubt, speaking of me, general?" said the
priest, quietly.
" Yes, sir, of you. I wish to warn you not to occupy your pious
thoughts with that very worldly thing called politics, and to request
you to instruct the members of your Church in religion, in Chris-
tian love and kindness, and not to lure them to murder and
treachery. "
The priest shrugged his shoulders ; a contemptuous smile played
about his small, thin lips.
"The words 'religion and Christian love' sound strangely in the
mouth of a Prussian warrior. I decline receiving any advice from
you. I have no fear of you or of your superiors ! I am subject only
to God and the Pope 1"
THE TE DEUM. 233
" That may be in your own country, but not in the King of Prus-
sia's, " answered General Fink, quietly. " There every one is sub-
ject to the law ; no title, no clerical gown protects the criminal.
Two days ago, a spy was discovered in the Prussian camp, who was
a priest; he was hung like any other spy, although at the last
moment, hoping to save his life, he exclaimed that he was a friend
of Father Guarini, the court confessor. His majesty the King of
Prussia commissioned me to impart to you the death of your friend. "
" From my heart I thank you for so doing, " said the priest. " I
shall have masses read for my friend, of whom you have made a
martyr."
The queen gazed at him with sparkling eyes. " Oh, my father, "
said she, "I thank you for your noble example ; it shall enable me,
in spite of threats and insults, not to deny the holy cause and the
friends who have suffered for it. And now, general, I hope your
commissions are fulfilled, and that you will take your leave. "
" I hope your majesty will believe that I would not venture to
remain, were I not compelled by the commands of my king. I have
to request your majesty to listen while I read aloud some letters,
some historical documents, which may possibly interest your high-
ness."
" You can read, " said the queen. " As my ears do not belong to
the King of Prussia, it lies with me to listen or not, as I please."
She sank gently upon the divan, signing to the priest to remain
beside her.
"I flatter myself that I will have your majesty's attention," said
the general, withdrawing to the nearest window and opening a
package of letters. " The first relates to an extremely amusing occur-
rence, which my master, knowing that France was your ally,
imagined would interest you. Your highness is aware that Prince
Soubise is a brave soldier. This is Madame Pompadour's opinion ;
it must, therefore, be true. About a week ago this brave prince
determined to rest for a while from his heroic deeds, and gave the
same privilege to a large portion of his army. The general, accom-
panied by his staff and eight thousand soldiers, then entered that
lovely little spot, called Gotha, to visit the talented and princely duke
and duchess. He and his staff were received by them with great
honor ; magnificent preparations were forthwith made for a splendid
dinner to welcome the prince who, happily, was not only fond of
laurels, but also of good eating. Dinner was served, the French
generals had finished their toilets, Prince Soubise had given the
duchess his arm to lead her to her seat, when a loud cry of terror
was heard from without, "The Prussians are at the gates!' Prince
Soubise drooped the arm of the duchess ; through the Paris rouge
16
234 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
so artistically put on, the paleness, which now covered his face ;
could not be seen. The doors leading to the dining-saloon were
thrown open, making visible the sparkling glass, the smoking
dishes, the rare service of gold and silver ; the generals of the
prince now hastened forward and confirmed the wild rumor. Yes ;
aud rumor, for once, was true. General Seidlitz was there with
fifteen hundred brave cavalrymen. The French are noted for their
politeness, and it did not fail them upon this occasion. Without
a word, Prince Soubise and his eight thousand men made room for
General Seidlitz and his fifteen hundred, and hastened from the
ducal palace. Before the rich dishes had time to cool, General
Seidlitz and his staff were seated at the table, enjoying the magnifi-
cent dinner prepared for the French generals. Many prisoners,
many spoils were taken afterward. Not that Pince Soubise had not
taken all his soldiers with him, but there was another small army
by which the French troops are always accompanied. These, the
lackeys, valets, cooks, hair-dressers, ballet-dancers, actresses,
priests, etc. , etc. , were not able to run as fast as the French soldiers.
The spoils consisted in the equipages of the prince and his staff, in
which were boxes and chests containing precious things, their large
chests full of delightful perfumes and hair-oils, trunks full of wigs,
dressing-gowns, and parasols. There were several learned parrots
who had a leaning to politics, and who exclaimed continually :
' Vive les-Frangais ! A bas les Prussiens ! ' But the kind-hearted Gen-
eral Seidlitz did not wish to deprive the French army of the neces-
sities of life ; he therefore sent them their valets, cooks, hair-dressers,
actresses, priests, etc. The perfumes and hair-oils he gave to his
own soldiers."
" I trust you have finished, " said the queen, playing listlessly
with her fan.
"Ah, your majesty has then honored me by listening?" said
General Fink, smiling.
The queen preserved a dignified silence.
The general continued reading : " After long deliberation, Prince
Soubise concluded he had carried his politeness too far in vacating
the ducal palace to the Prussians ; he determined, therefore, to go
after his perfumes, hair- oils, dressing-gowns, wigs, etc., etc., and
drive the Prussians from Gotha. Prince von Hildburghausen joined
him with his troops. Thus the French advanced to Gotha, secure
and confident of success. But to their terror they found before the
city not two Prussian regiments, as they had expected, but what
seemed to them the entire Prussian army arranged in line of battle,
and in such large numbers that for miles around the hills were cov-
ered with them. This was so unexpected to the French generals
THE TE DEUM. 235
that they determined to retreat for a while, until they had recovered
from their surprise. They withdrew, leaving the field to the Prus-
sians. Had they not withdrawn so hastily, they would soon have
seen that the Prussian army consisted only of fifteen hundred,
which, thanks to General Seidlitz's strategy, presented a very im-
posing view. Thus Seidlitz gained the day without firing a shot
not by the troops who were present, but by those who were supposed
to be present. "
"I have had enough of this," said the queen, rising. "I am
weary of listening to your witty stories. The King of Prussia may
triumph for a while he may jest over his lost battles but the hour
of his misfortune is at hand. God, who is just who thrusts the
arrogant and haughty to the ground will also punish him, and give
victory to the just cause. The battle of Collin was for Frederick the
Second the first proof of God's anger, and now with increasing
strength His mighty arm will be raised against him. "
"I am aware that these are your majesty's sentiments," said the
general, smiling ; " and my master is as well informed. I think
they were stated in almost the same words in letters which your
majesty wrote to the Austrian general, Nadasky. "
The queen fell back upon her seat trembling, and a deep red
suffused her countenance. Even Father Guarini showed by the
quivering of his lip and his sudden paleness, that the conversation
was now taking an agitating turn.
"What do you know of my letters to Nadasky?" said the queen,
breathlessly. "Who says I have written to him?"
"Your own hand, gracious queen," answered the general.
"While the king, my noble sovereign, was in Bernstadt, he was
told that General Nadasky was at Ostriz, and sent General von
Werner after him. Nadasky fled, but his baggage was captured,
and amongst his letters this one from your majesty was discovered. "
And he held up the letter in question before the queen, to convince
her of its authenticity.
Maria Josephine endeavored to tear it from him, but the general
was too quick for her.
" By command of my master, this letter is to be returned to you,
but upon one condition. "
"Well, what is it?" said the queen, faintly.
" I am to read to your majesty a few sentences from it, selected
by the King of Prussia himself. "
" And all my letters shall then be returned to me?"
" All, your majesty. "
"You can read," said the queen, seating herself.
General Fink approached the window by which he had been
236 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
standing before, and looked out for a few moments. Some one,
perhaps, had passed with whom he was acquainted, for he bowed
several times and raised his hand as if he were beckoning. After
this intermission, at which the queen and her confessor had looked
in amazement, he opened the letter and commenced to read.
It was a demand from Queen Maria Josephine to the Austrian
general to do all in his power to ruin their common enemy. " If we
are energetic, " continued the general, reading in a loud voice, " it
will soon be done. At the battle of Collin, God laid his mark upon
Frederick ; Prussia will have no more victories ; her arrogant ruler
has sung his last Te Deum. "
At this moment the bells of the nearest church commenced their
solemn chimes, and from the fort behind the castle the thunder of
cannon was heard. The queen rose from her seat and rushed to the
window.
"What is the meaning of this?" said she, breathlessly. "Why
these bells? Why this cannon? What"
The renewed thunder of cannon drowned her words. She threw
open the window, and now all the church bells were joined in one
harmonious chant. From beneath the queen's windows there arose
a slow, solemn hymn, and as if borne aloft by invisible spirits, the
words " Te Deum laudaimis" were heard by the queen. Her eyes
sparkled. " For whom is this Te Deum ? " said she, breathlessly.
" It is for my master, " said General Fink, solemnly " for the
King of Prussia, who at Rossbach, with twenty thousand men, has
gained a victory over sixty thousand French soldiers. "
A cry of rage, and Maria Josephine fell fainting to the floor.
CHAPTER XII.
CAMP SCENE.
IT was a cold winter day, and in the Prussian camp at Newmark
every one was occupied making fires.
" Let us get a great deal of wood, " said a sprightly-looking, slen-
der young soldier, to his comrades ; " our limbs must not be stiff to-
day. I think to-morrow all will go off bravely, and we will prepare
a strong soup for the Austrians."
" And instead of the noodles, we will send them cannon-balls, "
said a comrade, standing near him. " But see here, brother, as we
are not going to fight this evening, I think we shoulld make use of
the time and cook a soup for ourselves. When we have wood enough
for a good fire, we will set the kettle over it, and the best of pastimes
CAMP SCENE. 2B7
will be ready. Shall we do it, comrades? Everyman a groschen,
and Charles Henry Buschman to cook the noodles. "
" Yes, Buschman must cook the noodles ; no one understands it
so well as he. Charles Henry Buschman ! Where hides the fellow?
He is generally sticking to Fritz Kober, and they are chatting to-
gether as if they were lovers. Buschman ! Charles Henry Busch-
man ! Where are you?"
" Here I am !" cried a bright, fresh voice, and a slender youth,
belonging to Prince Henry's regiment, stepped forward and joined
them. "Who calls me? what do you want?"
" We want you to cook noodles for us, Buschman ; every man
pays a groschen, and eats to his heart's content. You shall have
them for nothing, because you prepare them. "
"I will have nothing that I don't pay for," said Charles Henry,
proudly ; " I can pay as well as the rest of you, and perhaps I have
more money than all of you ; for while you are drinking, smoking,
and playing, I put my groschens aside for a rainy day. "
" Yes, that is true ; Buschman is the most orderly, the most in-
dustrious of us all," said Fritz Kober, as he nodded lovingly to
his young friend. " He does not drink, or smoke, or play ; and, I
can tell you, he sews like a woman. He mended a shirt for me to-
day. A ball had passed through it at Rossbach, making a hole in
the left sleeve. I tell you, the shirt looks as if a clever woman had
mended it. "
"Well, it is a pity he isn't one," said one of the soldiers, with a
merry laugh ; " perhaps you have a sister at home, Henry, whom
you could give to Kober. "
"No, comrade," said Charles Henry, sadly; "I have neither
father, mother, sister, nor brother. I am alone in the world, and
have no other friend but ray comrade, Fritz Kober. Will you not
give him to me, comrades? Will you tease him because he is the
friend of a poor, young fellow, against whom you have nothing to
say except that he is just seventeen years old, and has no beard, and
his voice a little thin, not able to make as much noise as yourself ?
Promise me that you will not laugh at Fritz again because he is kind
to, and loves a poor, forsaken boy. If you tease him, he will be-
come desperate and run off from me, and then, when I fall in battle,
he will not close my eyes as he has promised to do. "
" I will never run away from you, darling brother, " said Fritz
Kober. " We two shall stay together in camp and in battle. You
have won me with your soft, black eyes ; they remind me of those
of my good, faithful Phylax. "
" Well, well, Fritz shall do as he pleases, " said one of the boys ;
" but enough with our chatting, let us seek the wood for our fire. "
238 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Wood, wood, let us seek wood, " cried all, gayly, and the happy
troop separated on all sides. Only Charles Henry remained to pre-
pare the fire. With busy haste he took the kettle, which the soldiers
had dragged near, ran to the neighboring market and bought a
groschen worth of lard to make the noodles savory, then hastened
back to cut the bacon and mix it with the noodles. Some of the
soldiers returned empty-handed no wood was to be found ; the
soldiers, who had searched before them, had taken it all.
" It would be horrible not to have noodles this evening, " said
Fritz Kober, furiously. " "Who knows but they may be the last we
Khali eat in this world? The balls may take our heads off to-morrow,
and we never could eat Charles Henry's noodles again."
"What you can do to-day never put off until to-morrow," cried
one of the soldiers. "We must eat noodles to-day, and we must
have wood, even if we have to steal it from the devil's kitchen."
And, as he turned around, his eye fell upon a little hut which stood
on the other side of the camp. " Boys, " he cried, gleefully, " do you
see that hut?"
"Certainly ; that hut is the king's quarters."
" I am willing the king should occupy the hut ; but it is covered
with wood, and he does not need that. Come, boys, we will have
wood to cook our noodles. "
With a hurrah they started forward to the old forsaken shep-
herd's hut in which the king had taken refuge. They climbed the
rook as nimbly as cats, and now the old boards cracked and groaned
and flew in every direction, and were received with shouts of joy by
the surrounding soldiers. Suddenly a guard officer stepped from the
hut, and saw with horror its destruction ; he ordered the soldiers to
lay the boards as they had found them, and to go off at once. The
soldiers mocked at him, and continued at their work quietly.
" We are going to eat noodles, " they said, " common noodles, of
meal and lard, that we may have the courage to swallow iron noodles
to-morrow. To cook noodles, we need wood. We find it here, and
we shall take it. "
"What!" cried the officer, "I forbid it, and you refuse to obey?
Sentinels, forward !"
The four guards, who, until now, had walked quietly to and frc
before the hut, placed themselves at the door and shouldered arms.
"Fire at the first one who dares to touch another piece of wood,"
commanded the officer. But the wanton soldiers paid no attention
to this order ; they regarded it as an empty threat.
" Fire, " cried one, laughing, " fire is just what we want without
fire, no noodles ; and to make fire we must have wood. "
" Whew ! I have a big splinter in my finger, " cried another sol-
CAMP SCENE. 239
dier, who was on the roof, and had just broken off a plank ; " I must
draw it out and put it back, mustn't I, lieutenant?"
At this question the gay group broke into a loud laugh ; but it
was interrupted by the angry words of the officer.
Suddenly a mild voice asked: "What is the matter?" At the
first sound of this voice the soldiers seemed dismayed ; they stopped
their work, and their merry faces became earnest and thoughtful.
Stiff and motionless they remained on the roof awaiting their pun-
ishment ; they knew that voice only too well, they had heard it in
the thunder of battle. The king repeated his question. The officer
approached him.
"Sire, these dragoons are tearing the roof from your majesty's
quarters, all my threats are useless ; therefore I ordered the sentinels
forward.'*
"What do you want with the sentinels?" asked the king.
" To fire amongst them, if they do not desist. "
"Have you tried kindness?" said the king, sternly; "do you
think, on the day before a battle, I have soldiers to spare, and you
may shoot them down because of a piece of wood?"
The officer murmured a few confused words ; but the king paid
no attention to him ; he looked up at the soldiers sitting stiff and
motionless upon the roof.
" Listen, dragoons, " said the king ; " if you take off my roof, the
snow will fall in my bed to-night, and you do not wish that, do
you?"
" No, we do not wish it, sire, " said Fritz Kober, ashamed, slipping
softly from the roof ; the others followed his example, and prepared
to be off, giving melancholy glances at the wood lying on the ground.
The king looked thoughtfully after them, and murmured, softly,
"Poor fellows, I have deprived them of a pleasure. Halloo, dra-
goons, " he cried aloud, " listen !"
The soldiers looked back, frightened and trembling.
"Tell me," said the king, "what use were you going to make of
the wood?"
" Cook noodles, sire, " said Fritz Kober ; " Henry Buschman
promised to cook noodles for us, and the bacon is already cut ; but
we have no wood."
" Well, if the bacon is cut, " said the king, smiling, " and if Henry
Buschman has promised to make the noodles, he must certainly keep
his word ; take the wood away with you. "
" Hurrah ! long life to our king and to our good Fritz Kober, "
cried the soldiers, and, collecting the wood, they hastened away.
The king stepped back, silently, into the small, low room of the
hut. Alone, there once more the smile disappeared, and his counte-
240 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
nance became sad and anxious. He confessed to himself what he
had never admitted to friend or confidant, that it was a daring and
most dangerous undertaking to meet the Austrian army of seventy
thousand with his thirty-three thousand men.
" And should I fail, " said the king, thoughtfully, " and lead these
brave troops to their death without benefit to my country should
they die an unknown death should we be conquered, instead of
conquering! Oh, the fortune of battles lies' in the hands of Provi-
dence ; the wisest disposition of troops, the most acute calculations
are brought to naught by seeming accident. Should I expose my
army to the fearful odds, should I hazard so many lives to gratify
my ambition and my pride? My generals say it will be wiser not
to attack, but to wait and be attacked. Oh, Winterfeldt, Winter -
feldt, were you but here, you would not advise this, not you ! Why
have you been taken from me, my friend? Why have you left me
alone among my enemies? I can find, perhaps, resources against
my enemies, but I will never find another Winterfeldt. " *
The king leaned his head upon his breast, and tears rolled down
his cheeks.
" How solitary, how joyless life is ! how rich I was once in
friends, how poor I am now ! and who knows how much poorer I
may be to-morrow at this hour who knows if I shall have a place
to lay my head? I may be a fugitive, without home or country.
Verily, I have the destiny of Mithridates I want only two sons and
a Monima. Well, " continued he, with a soft smile, " it is still
something to stand alone misfortunes only strike home. But do I
stand alone ? have I not an entire people looking to me and expecting
me to do my duty? Have I not brave soldiers, who call me father,
looking death courageously in the face and hazarding their lives for
me? No, I am not alone and if Mithridates had two sons, I have
thirty-three thousand. I will go and bid them good-evening. I
think it will refresh my sad heart to hear their cheerful greetings. "
The king threw on his mantle and left his quarters, to make, as
he was often accustomed to do, a tour through the camp. Only the
officer on guard followed him, at a short distance.
It was now dark, and fires, which were lighted everywhere, gave
a little protection against the biting cold. It was a beautiful sight
the wide plain, with its numberless, blazing, flickering fires,
surrounded by groups of cheerful soldiers, their fresh faces glowing
with the light of the flames. In the distance the moon rose grand
and full, illuminating the scene with its silver rays, and blending
its pale shimmer with the ruddy flames.
The king walked briskly through the camp, and, when recog-
*The king's own words. Retzew, vol. i., p. 280.
CAMP SCENE. 241
nized, the soldiers greeted him with shouts and loving words. As he
approached a large fire, over which hung a big kettle, the contents
of which filled the air with savory odors, he heard a brisk voice say :
" Now, comrades, come and eat, the noodles are done !"
" Hurrah ! here we are, " cried the boys, who were standing not
far off, chatting merrily. They sprang forward joyfully, to eat the
longed-for noodles.
The king, recognizing the soldiers who had uncovered his roof,
drew near to the fire.
"Shall I also come and eat with ypu?" he said, good-humoredly.
The soldiers looked up from the tin plates, in which the noodles
were swimming.
"Yes, sire," said Fritz Kober, jumping up and approaching the
king ; "yes, you shall eat with us ; here is my spoon and knife, and
if you reject it, and are only mocking us, I shall be very angry
indeed."
The king laughed, and turning to the officer who had followed
him, said as if to excuse himself :
" I must really eat, or I shall make the man furious. Give me
your spoon ; but listen, I can tell you, if the noodles are not good, I
shall be angry. " He took the plate and began to eat.
The soldiers all stopped, and looked eagerly at the king. "When
he had swallowed the first bite, Fritz Kober could no longer restrain
his curiosity.
"Well, sire," he said, triumphantly, "what do you say to it!
Can't Buschman prepare better noodles than your cleverest cook?"
"Verily," said the king, smiling, "he never cooked such noodles
for me, and I must say they are good ; but, now I have had enough,
and I am much obliged to you. "
He wished to return his plate to Fritz Kober, but Fritz shook his
head violently.
"See here, your majesty, no one gets off from us with just a
'thank you, ' and you, least of all, sire ; every one must pay his part. "
"Well," said the king, "how much is my share?"
" It cost each of us three groschen ; the king may pay what he
pleases. "
"Will you credit me, dragoon?" said the king, who searched his
pockets in vain for money.
" Oh ! yes, your majesty, I will credit you, but only until to-
morrow morning, early ; for, if a cannon-ball took my head off, I
could not dun your majesty, and you would be my debtor to all
eternity. "
" It would then be better to settle our accounts to-day, " said the
king ; and nodding to the soldiers, he left them.
242 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WATCH-FIRE.
THE officer who had accompanied the king, returned in an hour
to the watch-fire of the dragoons, and handed five gold pieces to
Fritz Kober, which had been sent by the king to pay for his portion
of the noodles ; then, without giving the surprised soldier time to
thank him, he withdrew.
Fritz looked long and thoughtfully at the gold pieces, which, in
the light of the flickering fire, shone beautifully in his hand.
" It is very well very well that the king kept his word, and paid
me punctually to-night," said he to Chares Hemy Buschman, who
sat near, and with his elbow resting on his knee, watched his friend
closely.
"And why so, Fritz?" said Charles.
" I will tell you, Charles Henry. If I fall to-morrow, I will have
something in my pocket that you will inherit from me. I declare
to you, no one but you alone shall be my heir ; all that I have be-
longs to you. Thunder and lightning ! I am rich ! it is better I
should make my testament ; I don't know what may happen to me
to-morrow. I have neither pen nor paper ; well, I will make it
verbally ! I will wake some of my comrades, and they shall witness
my last will and testament. " He reached over to the sleeping sol-
diers, who lay near him on the ground, but Charles held him back.
"Let them sleep, friend, "said he, pleadingly; "it is not neces-
sary you should have witnesses. God, and the moon, and a thousand
stars hear what we say to each other ; and why speak of your will
and your fortune, friend? Do you think I would care for that mis-
erable gold, if you were no longer by my side? Do you think I
would use it for any other purpose than to buy your tombstone, and
write on it in golden letters?"
"What? a tomsbtone !" said Fritz Kober, with an astonished
look ; " and why would you place a tombstone over a poor, simple,
unknown fellow like myself, Charles Henry? Many gallant generals
and officers fall in battle ; the earth drinks their blood, and no one
knows where they lie. And with golden letters, did you say,
Charles? Well, I am curious to know what you would place upon
my tombstone. "
" I will tell you, Fritz. I will write on your tombstone ' Here
lies Fritz Kober ; the most faithful friend, the best soul, the most
honest heart ; good and simple as a child, brave as a hero, constant
as a dove, and true as a hound. '"
THE WATCH-FIRE. 243
"But am I all that?" said Fritz, amazed.
"Yes, you are all that!" said Charles, with a trembling voice.
"You have been more than this to me, and I will never forget it.
I was a poor, shrinking youth when I came to this camp ; I knew
nothing could do nothing. My comrades, who soon found me out,
mocked and complained of me, and played all manner of jokes upon
me. They ridiculed me, because I had no beard ; they mimicked
me, because my voice was soft and unsteady ; they asserted that I
would make a miserable soldier, because I grew deadly pale at
parade. Who was it took pity on me, and opposed themselves to
my rude, unfeeling companions? Who scolded and threatened to
strike them, if they did not allow me to go my own way, in peace
and quiet? Who was patient with my stupidity, and taught me
how to go through with my military duties creditably, and how to
manage my horse? You! you, dear Fritz! you alone. You were
always at my side, when others threatened. You were patient as
a mother when she teaches her dear little boy his letters, and looks
kindly upon him, and is good to him, even when he is dull and
inattentive. "
"Well," said Fritz Kober, thoughtfully, "one can do nothing
better than to be good to a man who deserves it, and who is himself
so kind, and pure, and brave, that a poor fellow like myself feels
ashamed, and looks down when the soft eyes are fixed upon him. I
tell you what, Charles Henry, there is a power in your eyes, and
they have subdued me. I think the angels in heaven have just such
eyes as yours, and when you look upon me so softly and kindly,
my heart bounds with delight. I have dreamed of your eyes,
Charles Henry ; I have blushed in my sleep when I thought I had
uttered a coarse curse, and you looked upon me sorrowfully. I know
you cannot endure cursing, or drink, or even tobacco. "
" My father was a poor schoolmaster, " said Charles Henry ; " we
lived quietly together, and he could not bear cursing. He used to
say, 'When men cursed, it hurt God like the toothache.' He said
' God had not made the corn to grow, that men might make brandy,
but bread. ' We were too poor to buy beer and wine, so we drank
water, and were content. "
"Your father was right," said Fritz, thoughtfully. "I believe,
myself, corn was not intended to make brandy, and I don't care for
it ; I will give it up altogether. If we live through this war, and
receive good bounty money, we will buy a few acres, and build us
a little house, and live together, and cultivate our land, and plant
corn ; and, in the evening, when our work is done, we will sit on
the bench before the door, and you will relate some of your beautiful
little stories ; and so we will live on together till we are old and die. "
244 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HLS FAMILY.
" But you have forgotten one thing, Fritz. "
"What is that, Charles Henry?"
"You have forgotten that you will take a wife into your little
house, and she will soon cast me out. "
"Let her try it!" cried Fritz, enraged, and doubling his fist
threateningly. "Let her try only to show the door to Charles
Henry, and I will shut her out, and she shall never return never I
But," said he, softly, "it is not necessary to think of this ; I will
never take a wife. We will live together ; we need no third person
to make strife between us. "
Charles said nothing. He looked smilingly into the glowing
fire, and then at his comrade, with an amused but tender expression.
If Fritz had seen it, his heart would have bounded again, but he
was too much occupied then with his own thoughts to look up.
"Listen, Charles. If nothing comes of our little piece of ground
and our house if my last ball comes to-morrow and carries me off
"Stop, stop, Fritz ; I will hold my head so that the same ball will
carry it off!"
"If you do that, I will be very angry with you," cried Fritz.
"Ton are too young to die, and I will be glad even in my grave to
know that you are walking on the green earth. In order to do well,
yon must have gold ; therefore you must be my heir. If I fall, these
beautiful gold pieces belong to yon ; you shall not put a tombstone
over me. Buy yourself a few acres, Charles Henry, and when your
corn grows and blossoms, that shall be my monument."
Charles took his hand, and his eyes were filled with tears.
"Speak no more of death," said he, softly; "it makes my heart
heavy, and I shall lose my courage in the battle to-morrow when I
think of all you have said. Ugh ! how cold it is ! My soul feels
frosted!"
"I will go and seek a little more wood, " said Fritz, springing up,
" and make a good fire, and then yon shall be warmed. "
He hurried off, and Charles remained alone by the fire, looking
gravely on the glowing coals; he smiled from time to time, and
then he breathed heavily, as if oppressed by some weighty secret.
Suddenly he heard a voice behind him.
"Ah ! I have found the fire again ! Good-evening, children. "
"Good-evening, sir king. Comrades, wake up; the king is
here!"
"No, no; let your comrades sleep, " said the king, softly. "The
fire will do me good. I found the right path to the fire, as I said.
Tour dragoons have uncovered my quarters, and the cold blasts of
wind whistle through them and freeze the water in my room. I
prefer to sit by the fire and warm myself. "
THE WATCH-FIRE. 245
He was about to seat himself on the straw near the fire, when a
harsh voice called out :
" March on ! every lazy scamp wants a place by the fire, but not
one of them brings a splinter of wood. "
Fritz Kober was behind them with the wood ; he had found it
with great difficulty, and he was angry when he saw a strange sol-
dier in his place by the side of Charles Henry.
The king turned to him quietly.
" You are right, my son ! come on ! I will make room for you. "
"It is the king !" exclaimed Fritz, turning as if to fly. But the
king held him.
"Remain where you are, my son; you brought the wood, and
you have the best right. I only wish to warm myself a little, and
I think there is room for us all. "
He seated himself upon the straw, and nodded to Fritz Kober to
take a seat by him. Fritz tremblingly obeyed, and Charles stirred
the fire, which flamed up beautifully.
King Frederick gazed at the flickering flames. Charles and
Fritz sat on each side of him, and watched him yi respectful silence ;
around the watch-fire lay the sleeping dragoons. After a long pause
the king raised his head and looked about him.
"Well, children, to-morrow will be a hot day, and we must strike
the Austrians boldly. "
"Yes, as we struck the French at Rossbach, your majesty," said
Fritz. " Mark me ! it will go off bravely, and when we are done
with the Austrians we will march to Constantinople . "
"What will we do in Constantinople?" said the king.
"Nothing, your majesty, but march there with you, whip the
Turks, and take all their gold !"
" Not quite so fast, my son. "
"Why not, sir king? We have chopped up the French army;
to-morrow we will do the same for the Austrians ; and then, why
not whip the Turks?"
The king smiled, and said :
"Well, well, but first we must give the Austrians a good drub-
bing."
"And, by my soul, we will do that,'* said Fritz, eagerly. "Your
majesty may believe me I will march with you to the end of the
earth, and so will my friend Charles Buschman. If we have only a
little to eat, we will find water everywhere ; so lead us where vou
will!"
The king's eyes flashed: "By heaven! it is a pleasure to lead
such soldiers to battle !" Then turning, with a kindly expression,
to Fritz Kober, he said : "Can you write?"
246 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Not well, your majesty ; but Charles Henry Buschman can
write much better than I. He is a scholar. "
"Is that true?" said the king, gayly, to Charles.
"He will say 'No, ' sir king ; he cannot bear to be praised. But
the truth remains, the truth even when denied Charles is the
bravest and wisest soldier in the army, and if there is justice in the
world he will be made an officer. "
" You must get your commission first, Fritz, " said Charles, in-
differently ; "you earned it long ago, and if the king only knew all
that you did at Rossbach, you would have it now. "
"What did he do?" said the king.
" Nothing, your majesty, " said Fritz.
" Yes, your majesty, " said Charles, zealously ; " he hewed right
and left until the sparks flew in every direction. Our commander
had told us the disgusting Frenchmen wanted to take our winter
quarters, and even when Fritz Kober's sword was still whizzing
among them, they had the insolence to cry out, ' Quartier ! quartier ! '
then was Fritz enraged, and cut them down like corn-stalks, and
cried out, 'Yes, yes! I will give you quarters, but they will be
underground !'"
" Only think, " said Fritz, " they were flying before us, and the
impudent scamps, when we captured them, would still twit us with
the winter quarters they had intended to rob us of. How could I
help cutting them to pieces?"
"But he spared those who cried 'Pardon,' your majesty," said
Charles Henry, "he only took them prisoners. Nine prisoners did
Fritz Kober take at Rossbach. " *
" I suppose the five prisoners you took were men of straw, thr. '
you say nothing of them, " cried Fritz.
The king looked well pleased from one to the other.
" It appears to me you are both brave soldiers, and the braver be
cause you do not boast of your deeds. Are you always such good
friends as to seek to do each other kindly service?"
"Your majesty, Charles Henry is my truest friend, and if you
wish to do me a service, make him an officer. "
"But he says he will not be made an officer unless you are made
one, so there is nothing left for me to do but to promote both ! If
in the battle to-morrow you fight like heroes, you shall both be made
officers. Now, children, be quiet, let me rest a little. I do not
* The Prussians had been told that the Frenchmen intended to take possession
of their winter quarters, and this enraged them greatly. When the French cavalry
were flying at Rossbach, they used the German word quartier, thinking they would
be better understood. The Prussians looked upon this as an insolent jest, and gave
no quarter. Nicolai's Characteristics and Anecdotes.
THE WATCH-FIRE. 247
want to sleep cannot you tell me some little story, some pretty little
fairy tale to keep my heavy eyes from closing?''
" Charles knows many fairy tales, sir king, and if you command
it he must relate one. "
"Oh, yes, your majesty, I know the history of a fairy who knew
and loved the brave son of a king, and when the prince went into
battle she transformed herself into a sword, that she might be always
by the side of him she loved."
"Tell me this pretty story, my son."
Charles Henry began to relate. Deep silence reigned about the
camp. Here and there a word was spoken in sleep, a loud snore,
or the neighing of a horse. The fires were burned down, and the
coals glowed like fire-flies upon the dark ground.
The moon stood over the camp and illuminated the strange and
parti-colored scene with her soft rays, and called out the most won-
derful contrasts of light and shade. Far, far away, in the dim dis-
tance, one blood-red point could be seen ; it looked like a crimson
star in the east. This was the camp-fire of the Austrians. This
mighty army was encamped behind Leuthen. The king gazed in
that direction with eager expectation, and listened with painful
attention to every distant sound.
The silence of death reigned there ; no sound or voice was heard.
The king, being convinced of this, sank back once more upon the
straw, and listened to Charles Henry Buschman.
It was indeed a beautiful fairy tale ; so wild and so fantastic that
Fritz listened with eyes extended and almost breathless to every
word. At last, as the handsome prince was drawing his last breath,
the lovely fairy sprang from his sword and brought the dead to life
with her warm kisses, Fritz was in an ecstasy of excitement, and
interrupted Charles by an outcry of rapture.
"This is a true story, sir king!" cried he, passionately; "every
word is true, and he who don't believe it is a puppy !"
" Well, well, " said the king, " I believe every word, friend. "
Charles Henry went on with his fairy tales ; but, notwithstand-
ing the wonders he related, sleep at last overcame his friend ! Fritz's
eyes closed, but he murmured in his sleep :
"It is all true all true !"
Charles Henry himself, wearied by the exertions of the last few
days, felt his eyelids to be as heavy as lead, his words came slowly,
then ceased altogether.
The king looked at his slumbering soldiers, then far away toward
the watch-fires of the Austrian camp.
Silence still reigned. The moon showed distant objects in the
clearest light, and nothing suspicious or alarming could be seen.
348 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" It was false intelligence which was brought to me. " said the
king. " It is not true that the Austrians are on the march and in
tend to surprise me. They sleep ! we will not see them till to-
morrow. I will withdraw to my quarters."
King Frederick stepped slowly through the ranks of the sleepers,
and gave a sign to the officer and the four soldiers who had accom-
panied him, but remained at a distance from the fire, to move
lightly and awaken no one.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN.
EARLY the next morning the king left his tent. The generals
were anxiously awaiting him. His countenance glowed with
energy and determination, and his brilliant eyes flashed with a
sparkling light. Inspired by the appearance of their hero, the
clouded brows of the assembled generals became clearer. They felt
that his lofty brow was illumined by genius, and that the laurels
which crowned it could never fade. They were now confident,
courageous, ready for the battle, and, although they had at first dis-
approved of the king's plan of attacking the enemy who had twice
overcome them, now that he was in their midst they felt secure of
success.
Spies reported that the Austrian army had left their camp at
sunrise and advanced toward Leuthen ; they spoke much and loudly
of the strength of the enemy, and of the eagerness of the soldiers to
fall upon the weak Prussian army.
At a sign from the king, Seidlitz approached him, and informed
him of the latest rumors.
" It is a fearful army we are to attack, " said Seidlitz ; " more than
twice our number. "
"I am aware of the strength of the enemy." said the king,
quietly, "but nothing is left for me but victory or death. Were
they stationed upon the church-tower of Breslau I would attack
them."
Then approaching the other generals, he continued in a loud
voice :
" You are aware, gentlemen, that Prince Charles, of Lothringen,
succeeded in taking Schweidnitz, defeating the Duke of Bevern,
and has made himself master of Breslau, while I was protecting
Berlin from the French army. The capital of Silesia, and all the
munitions of war stowed there, have been lost. All these circum-
THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN. 249
stances are calculated to distress me deeply, had I not a boundless
confidence in your courage, your resolution, and your devoted love
to your country. There is, I think, not one among us who has not
been distinguished for some great, some noble deed. I feel assured
that your courage will not now fail in this hour of direst need. I
would feel as if I had accomplished nothing were I to leave Silesia
in the possession of the Austrians. Against all acknowledged rules
of war, I am determined to attack the army of Charles of Lothringen,
though it is three times as strong as my own. Notwithstanding the
number of the enemy, or its advantageous position, I feel confident
of success. This step must be taken, or all is lost ! We must defeat
the Austrians, or fall beneath their batteries ! This is my opinion,
and thus I shall act. Make my determination known to every
officer. Acquaint the soldiers with the events that will soon occur
tell them that I require unconditional obedience ! Remember that
you are Prussians ! do not show yourselves unworthy of the name !
^ut should there be any among you who fear to share these dangers
with us, they can leave at once, and shall not be reproached by me. "
The king ceased speaking, and looked inquiringly at his listen-
ers. Upon every countenance he read determination, courage, and
inspiration, but here and there were some whose brows became
clouded at the king's last suggestion, and tears were sparkling in
old General Rohr's eyes. The king pressed the general's hand
almost tenderly.
" Ah, my dear friend, " said he, " I did not suspect you. But I
again say, that if any amongst you wishes leave of absence, he shall
have it. "
Profound quiet followed these words. No one approached the
king no sound disturbed the solemn stillness. At a distance, the
loud shouts and hurrahs of the soldiers, preparing for battle, could
be heard. The king's countenance became clear, and he continued
with enthusiasm :
" I knew beforehand that none of you would leave me. I counted
upon your assistance ; with it, I shall be victorious. Should I fall
in this battle, you must look to your country for reward ; and now,
away to the camp, and repeat to your men what I have said to you.
Farewell, gentlemen, before long we will either have defeated the
enemy, or we will see one another no more. "
And now there arose from the generals and officers loud, joyous
shouts.
"We will conquer or die !" cried Seidlitz, whose daring, youthful
countenance sparkled with delight. "We will conquer or die!'"
was repeated by all.
At last the brave words reached the camp, and were reechoed by
IT
250 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
thirty thousand lusty throats. There was universal joy. Old gray-
headed warriors, who had followed the king into many battles, who
had conquered repeatedly with him, shook hands with and en-
couraged each other, and warned the younger soldiers to be brave
and fearless.
Resting upon his horse, the king had been a joyful witness to all
this enthusiasm. At this moment, a troop of soldiers, numbering
about fifty, approached him. The commanding officer was greeted
with a kindly smile.
"You are Lieutenant von Frankenberg ?" said the king. And as
the lieutenant bowed in answer, he continued : " General Kleist has
spoken of you as being a brave and trustworthy officer. I have
therefore a strange commission for you. Listen well ! do not lose a
word of what I say. Come nearer. And now, " said the king, in a
low voice, "be attentive. In the approaching battle, I will have to
expose myself more than usual ; you and your fifty men shall guard
me. You must watch over me, and be careful that I fall not into
the hands of the enemy. Should I fall, cover my body with your
mantle, and carry me to the wagon, which shall be stationed behind
the first battalion. Leave me there, and tell no one of what has
occurred. The battle must continue the enemy must be defeated."
When the king had thus made his testament, he dismissed the
lieutenant, and advanced toward his body-guard.
"Good-morning!" cried the king, cheerfully.
"Good -morn ing, father!" was the universal answer. Then the
old graybeards, standing beside the king, said again :
"Good-morning, father! it is very cold to-day."
"It will be warm enough before the day is over, boys !" said the
king. " There is much to be done. Be brave, my children, and I
will care for you as a father. "
An old soldier, with silver hair, and the scars of many wounds
upon his face, approached the king.
"Your majesty, " said he, in an earnest voice, " if we are crippled,
what will become of us?"
" You shall be taken care of, " said the king.
"Will your majesty give me your hand upon this promise?"
This question was followed by deep silence. All present were
gazing anxiously at the king and the old guard. The king advanced,
and laid his hand in that of the old soldier.
" I swear, that any of you who are crippled, shall be taken care
of."
The old warrior turned with tearful eyes to his comrades.
" Well, " said he, " you hear him ? he is and will continue to be the
King of Prussia and our father. The one who deserts is a rascal. "
-
THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN. 251
"Long live our Fritz !" and throughout the whole camp resounded
the cry " Long live our Fritz ! Long live our king !"
" Onward ! onward !" was the cry, for at the end o f the plain the
enemy could be seen approaching.
" Forward !" cried the soldiers, falling one by one into their
places, as the king, followed by Lieutenant Frankenberg and his
men, galloped past them.
A turn in the road showed the Prussians the enormous size of the
enemy's army. Silence prevailed for a few moments. Suddenly,
here and there a voice could be heard singing a battle -hymn, and
soon, accompanied by the band, the whole army was breathing out
in song an earnest prayer to God.
A guard, approaching the king, said :
"Is it your majesty's desire that the soldiers should cease
singing?"
The king shook his head angrily.
" No !" said he, " let them alone. With such an army, God can
but give me victory."
Nearer and nearer came the enemy, covering the plain with their
numbers, and gazing with amazement at the little army that dared
to oppose them. By the Austrian generals, smiling so contemptu-
ously upon their weak opponents, one thing had been forgotten.
The Austrians, confident of success, were not in the least enthusi-
astic ; the Prussians, aware of their danger, and inspired by love
for their king, had nerved themselves to the contest. The armies
now stood before each other in battle array. The king was at the
front, the generals were flying here and there, delivering their
orders. In obedience to these orders, the army suddenly changed its
position, and so strange, -so unsuspected was the change, that General
Daun, turning to the Prince Lothringen, said :
" The Prussians are retreating ! we will not attack them. "
Certain of this fact, they were off their guard, and disorder reigned
in their camp. This security was suddenly changed to terror. They
saw the Prussians rapidly approaching, threatening at once both
wings of their army. Messenger upon messenger was sent, imploring
help from General Daun and Charles of Lothringen. The Prussians
were upon them, felling them to the earth, regardless of danger
regardless of the numerous cannon which were playing upon them.
Daun, with a part of his command, hurried to the aid of General Lu-
chesi, but he was too late ; Luchesi had fallen, and terror and disorder
were rapidly spreading in the right wing, while from the left, Nadasky
had already dispatched ten messengers, imploring assistance from
Charles of Lothringen. In doubt as to which most needed help, he
at last determined upon the right wing, whose ranks were thinning
252 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
rapidly ; he sent them aid, and took no notice of Nadasky's messen
gers. And now the Prussians fell upon the left wing of the Aus-
trians. This attack was made with fury, and the Austrian s re treated
in wild disorder. It was in vain that other regiments came to their
aid ; they had no time to arrange themselves before they were forced
back. They stumbled upon one another, the flying overtaking and
trampling upon the flying. Again and again the imperial guards
endeavored to place themselves in line of battle ; they were at once
overpowered by the Prussian cavalry, who, intoxicated with vic-
tory, threw themselves upon them with demoniac strength. Yes,
intoxicated mad with victory, were these Prussians. With perfect
indifference they saw their friends, their comrades, fall beside
them ; they did not mourn over them, but revenged their death
tenfold upon the enemy. Those even who fell were inspired by
enthusiasm and courage. Forgetful of their wounds, of their torn
and broken limbs, they gazed with joy and pride at their comrades,
joining in their shouts and hurrahs, until death sealed their lips.
A Prussian grenadier, whose left leg had been shot off in the
early part of the battle, raised himself from the ground ; using his
gun as a crutch, he dragged himself to a spot which the army had
to pass, and cried to the comrades who were looking pityingly upon
his bleeding limb : " Fight like brave Prussians, brothers ! Conquer
or die for your king !"
Another grenadier, who had lost both legs, lay upon the ground
weltering in his blood, quietly smoking his pipe. An Austrian
general galloping by held in his horse and looked in amazement at
the soldier. " How is it possible, comrade, " said he, " that in your
fearful condition you can smoke? Death is near to you. "
Taking the pipe from his mouth, the grenadier answered with
white, trembling lips : "Well, and what of it? Do I not die for my
king?"
Where the danger was the greatest, there was the king encourag-
ing his soldiers. When a column was seen to reel, there wa.
Frederick in their midst inspiring new courage by his presence.
The king was the soul of his army, and as his soul was sans peur et
sans reproche, the army was victorious. Napoleon, speaking of this
battle, says : " Cette bataille de Leuthen est propre a immortaliser
le caractere moral de Frederic, et met a jour ses grands talents
militaires. " And somewhat later, he says : " Cette bataille etait un
chef d'ceuvre de mouvements, de manoeuvres, et de resolution, seul
elle suffirait pour immortaliser Frederic, et lui donne unrang parmi
les plus grands generaux !"
The victory was gained. The defeated Austrians fled in haste,
leaving a hundred cannon, fifty banners, and more than twenty
THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN. 253
thousand prisoners in the hands of the Prussians ; while upon the
battle-field six thousand of their dead and wounded were lying, with
but two thousand dead and wounded Prussians. The victory be-
longed to Prussia. They had all distinguished themselves ; the king
and every common soldier had done his duty. Frederick, accom-
panied by his staff, to which Lieutenant Frankenberg and his fifty
men did not now belong, passed the bloody, smoking battle-field.
His countenance was sparkling with joy his eyes shone like stars.
He seemed looking for some one to whom to open his grateful
Heart.
He who had given most assistance in the battle was Prince Moritz
von Dessau, whom at the battle of Collin the king had threatened with
his sword, and with whom he had ever since been angry because his
prophecy proved true. But there was no anger now in the king's
heart ; and as he had, in the presence of all his staff, threatened the
prince, he wished also in their presence to thank and reward him.
The prince was at a slight distance from him, so busily engaged in
giving orders that he did not perceive the king until he was quite
close to him.
" I congratulate you upon this victory, " said the king, in a loud
voice "I congratulate you, field-marshal."
The prince bowed in a silent, absent manner, and continued to
give his orders.
The king, raising his voice, said: "Do you not hear, field-mar-
shal ? I congratulate you !"
The prince looked hastily at the king. " How ? Your majesty, "
said he, doubtfully, " has appointed me "
"My field-marshal," said the king, interrupting him. "And
well have you deserved this promotion ; you have assisted me in
this battle as I have never before been assisted. " He grasped the
prince's hand and pressed it tenderly, and there were tears of emo-
tion not only in the eyes of the new field -marshal, but also in those
of the king.
A fearful day's work was finished how fearful, could be seen by
the wounded, the dying lying pell-mell upon the battle-field amidst
the dead, too exhausted to move. But the day had passed. The
cries and shouts of the flying enemy had now ceased the victory,
the battle-field, belonged to the Prussians. What was now most
needed by them was an hour's rest. Above the bloody battle-field,
above the dying, the sleeping, the groaning, the sighing, now rose
the moon grandly, solemnly, as if to console the dead and to lead
the living to raise their grateful prayers to heaven. And grateful
praise ascended above that night thanks for the preservation of
their own and their friends' lives thanks for their hero's victory
254 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Side by side, whispering in low tones, lay the soldiers for the hour
seemed to all too solemn to be broken by any loud sound.
No hearts were so full of gratitude and joy as those of Charles
Henry Buschman and Fritz Kober. In the pressure of the battle
they had been separated and had not again met during the engage-
ment. In vain they had sought and called upon one another, and
each one thought of the fearful possibility that the other had fallen.
At last they stumbled upon each other. With shouts of joy they
rushed into each other's arms.
" You are not wounded, Fritz Kober?" said Charles Henry, with
a beating heart.
"I am unharmed ; but you, my friend?"
" Only a little cut in the hand, nothing more. How many pris
oners did you take?"
"Seven, Charles Henry. "
" You will be promoted ! You will be an officer !"
" Not unless you are also. How many prisoners did you take?"
" I am not sure, Fritz ; I think there were nine. But the captain
will know. "
"We will both be promoted, the king promised it, and now I am
willing to accept it. "
"But what is this to us now, my friend?" said Charles Henry ;
"we have found one another, and I am indifferent to all else."
"You are right, Charles Henry ; this has been a fearful, a terri-
ble day. My knees tremble beneath me let us rest a while. "
He laid himself upon the ground. Charles Henry knelt beside
him, laying one hand upon his shoulder, and looked at the starry
sky ; a holy smile glorified his countenance. As he gazed at the
moon, tender feelings were at work in his heart. He thought of his
distant home of the graves of his loved parents, upon which the
moon was now shining as brightly as upon this bloody battle-field.
He thought how kind and merciful God had been to preserve his
friend, his only consolation, the one joy of his weary, lonesome life.
The solemn stillness by which he was surrounded, the bright moon-
light which illuminated the battle-field, the thought of the hard
struggle of the past day, all acted strongly upon his feelings. The
brave, daring soldier, Charles Henry Buschman, was once more
transformed into the gentle, soft-hearted Anna Sophia Detzloff ;
now, when danger was past, she felt herself a weak, trembling
woman. Deep, inexpressible emotion, earnest prayers to God, were
busy in Anna Sophia's heart.
Kneeling upon the ground, resting on her friend, she raised her
eyes heavenward, and commenced singing in an earnest, impassioned
tone that glorious hymn, "Thanks unto God 1" Fritz Kober, actu
WINTER QUARTERS IN BRESLAU. 255
ated by the same feelings, joined in the hymn, and here and there a
comrade lent his voice to swell the anthem ; it became stronger,
louder, until at last, like a mighty stream, it passed over the battle-
field, knocking at every heart, and urging it to prayer, finding
everywhere an open ear.
The moon stood smiling above the battle-field, upon which eight
thousand dead and wounded men were lying. Even the wounded,
who a short time before filled the air with groans of pain and agony,
raised themselves to join in the song of praise which was now sung,
not by a hundred, not by a thousand, but by thirty thousand soldiers,
thirty thousand heroes, who, after that bloody day had earned the
right to sing " Thanks unto God. "
CHAPTER XV.
WINTER QUARTERS IN BRESLAU.
FAINT and exhausted, the king had withdrawn to his room ; he
was alone. To-day was the twenty-fourth of January, Frederick's
birthday, and, although he had forbidden all congratulations, he
could not avoid receiving the highest tribunals of Breslau, and also
a few deputations of the citizens of this reconquered city. These
visits wearied the king ; he was grave and out of spirits. Once
more alone, he could indulge in the sad memories that came over
him involuntarily and forcibly. For here in Breslau he had lately
experienced a bitter disappointment ; every thing in the castle re-
minded him of the treacherous friend whom he had loved so dearly,
and who had so shamefully betrayed him.
The king was now thinking of the Bishop von Schaffgotsch. An
expression of painful gloom clouded his face, he felt solitary and
deserted ; the cold, silent room chilled his heart, and the snow blown
against the window by the howling winds, oppressed him strangely.
He was more dejected and anxious than he had ever felt before a
battle.
"The marquis cannot travel in such weather," he said, sighing,
"and my musicians will be careful not to trust themselves upon the
highway ; they will imagine the snow has blocked up the way, and
that it is impossible to come through. They will remain in Berlin,
caring but little that I am counting the weary hours until they
arrive. Yes, yes, this is an example of the almighty power of a
king ; a few snow-flakes are sufficient to set his commands aside,
and the king remains but an impotent child of the dust. Of what
avail is it that I have conquered the Austria us and the French? I
256 FEEDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
have sown dragons' teeth from which new enemies will arise, new
battles, perhaps new defeats. What have I gained by consecrating
my heart to my friends? They are but serpents I have nourished
them in my breast, and they will sting when I least suspect them.
Even those whom I still trust, forsake me now when I most need
them !"
The wild storm increased, and blew a cloud of snow-flakes
against the window, and the wind whistled mournfully in the
chimney.
"No, " murmured the king, "D'Argens will certainly not come ;
he will remain quietly in his beloved bed, and from there write me
a touching epistle concerning the bonds of friendship. I know that
when feeling does not flow from the hearts of men, it flows elo-
quently from ink as a pitiful compensation. But, " he continued
after a pause, " this is all folly ! Solitude makes a dreamer of me
I am sighing for my friends as a lover sighs for his sweetheart !
Am I then so entirely alone? Have I not my books? Come, Lucre-
tius, thou friend in good and evil days ; thou sage, thou who hast
never left me without counsel and consolation ! Come and cheer
thy pupil teach him how to laugh at this pitiful world as it
deserves !"
Taking Lucretius from the table, and stretching himself upon
the sofa, he commenced reading. Deep stillness surrounded him.
Bells were ringing in the distance in honor of the royal birthday.
The Breslauers, who had so shortly before joyfully welcomed the
conquering Austrians, now desired to convince the King of Prussia
that they were his zealous subjects. The evening of the kingly
birthday they wished to show the joy of their hearts by a brilliant
illumination.
The king still read, and became so absorbed that he did not hear
the door gently opened. The tall, slender form of the Marquis
d'Argens appeared at the threshold. Overcome with joyful emo-
tions, he remained standing, and gazing with clouded eyes at the
king. Composing himself, he closed the door softly behind him
and advanced.
"Sire, will you forgive me for entering unannounced?"
The king sprang from his seat and held out both his hands.
"Welcome, welcome ! I thank you for coming."
The marquis could not reply ; he pressed his lips silently upon
the king's hands. "My God," he said, in a trembling voice, "how
my heart has longed for this happy moment how many offerings I
have vowed to Heaven if allowed to see the king once more. "
"You did not win Heaven by promises alone, friend, but you
have offered up a victim. You have left that precious bed which
WINTER QUARTERS IN BRESLAU. 257
you have occupied for the past eight months you have gained a
victory over yourself which is of more value than many victories."
" Ah, your majesty, " cried the marquis, whose black eyes were
again sparkling with mirth, " I now feel that my poor heart spoke
the truth when it declared that you were ever by its side. We have
really not been separated, and your majesty begins with me to-day
where you left off but yesterday. You laugh now as then at me,
and my poor bed, which has heard for more than a year past only
my sighs and prayers for your majesty's success. It was not diffi-
cult for me to leave it and to obey the summons of my king. If you
think this conquest over myself worth more than a victory over
our enemies, how lightly the hero of Rossbach and Leuthen regards
victories !"
" Not so, marquis ; but you know what the renowned King of the
Hebrews said that wise king who rejoiced in a thousand wives :
' He who conquers himself is greater than he who taketh a city. '
You, marquis, are this rare self-conqueror, and you shall be re-
warded right royally. I have had rooms prepared as warm and
comfortable as the marquise herself could have arranged for you.
The windows are stuffed with cotton, furs are lying before the stove,
cap and foot-muff, so your faithful La Pierre may wrap and bundle
you up to your heart's content. Not a breath of air shall annoy you,
and all your necessities shall be provided for with as much rever-
ence as if you were the holy fire in the temple of Vesta, and I the
priestess that guards it. "
The marquis laughed heartily. " Should the fire ever burn low
and the flame pale, I beg my exalted priestess to cast her burning
glance upon me, and thus renew my heat. Sire, allow me, before
all other things, to offer my congratulations. May Heaven bless
this day which rose like a star of hope upon all who love the great,
the beautiful, the exalted, and the "
" Enough, enough, " cried Frederick ; " if you begin in this way,
I shall fly from you ; I shall believe you are one of those stupid
deputations with which etiquette greets the king. In this room,
friend, there is no king, and when we are here alone we are two
simple friends, taking each other warmly by the hand and congratu-
lating ourselves upon having lived through another weary year,
and having the courage bravely to meet the years that remain.
Should you still desire to add a wish to this, marquis, pray that the
war fever which has seized all Europe, may disappear that the
triumvirate of France, Russia, and Austria, may be vanquished
that the tyrants of this universe may not succeed in binding the
whole world in the chains they have prepared for it. "
"Your majesty will know how to obtain this result to break
258 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
this chain and if they will not yield willingly, the hero of Ross-
bach and Leuthen will know how to crush them in his just rage. "
" God grant it !" sighed the king ; " I long for peace, although my
enemies say I am the evil genius that brings discord and strife into
the world. They say that if Frederick of Prussia did not exist, the
entire world would be a paradise of peace and love. I could say to
them, as Demosthenes said to the Athenians : ' If Philip were dead,
what would it signify? You would soon make another Philip. ' I
say to the Austrians : 'Your ambition, your desire for universal
reign, would soon rouse other eneimes. The liberties of Germany,
and indeed of all Europe, will always find defenders. ' We will
speak no more of these sad themes ; they belong to the past and the
future. Let us try to forget, friend, that we are in winter quarters
at Breslau, and imagine ourselves to be at our dear Sans-Souci. "
" In our beautiful convent, " said the marquis, " whose abbot has
so long been absent, and whose monks are scattered to the four
winds. "
" It is true, " sighed the king, gloomily, " widely scattered ; and
when the abbot returns to Sans-Souci, every thing will be changed
and lonely. Oh, marquis, how much I have lost since we parted !"
" How much you have gained, sire ! how many new laurels crown
your heroic brow !"
" You speak of my victories, " said the king, shaking his head ;
"but believe me, my heart has suffered defeats from which it will
never recover. I am not speaking of the death of my mother
although that is a wound that will never heal ; that came from the
hand of Providence ; against its decrees no man dare murmur. I
speak of more bitter, more cruel defeats, occasioned by the ingrati-
tude and baseness of men. "
" Your majesty still thinks of the unworthy Abbot of Prades, "
said D'Argens, sadly.
" No, marquis ; that hurt, I confess. I liked him, but I never
loved him he was not my friend ; his treachery grieved but did not
surprise me. I knew he was weak. He sold me ! Finding himself
in my camp, he made use of his opportunity and betrayed to the
enemy all that came to his knowledge. He had a small soul, and
upon such men you cannot count. But from another source I re-
ceived a great wrong this lies like iron upon my heart, and hardens
it. I loved Bishop Schaffgotsch, marquis ; I called him friend ; I
gave him proof of my friendship. I had a right to depend on his
faithfulness, and believe in a friendship he had so often confirmed
by oaths. My love, at least was unselfish, and deserved not to be
betrayed. But he was false in the hour of danger, like Peter who
betrayed his Master. The Austrians had scarcely entered Breslau,
WINTER QUARTERS IN BRESLAU. 259
when he not only denied me, but went further he trampled upon
the orders of my house, and held a Te Deum in the dome in honor of
the Austrian victory at Collin." The king ceased and turned
away, that the marquis might not see the tears that clouded his eyes.
"Sire," cried the marquis, deeply moved, "forget the ingrati-
tude of these weak souls, who were unworthy of a hero's friendship. "
" I will ; but enough of this. You are here, and I still believe in
you, marquis. You and the good Lord Marshal are the only friends
left me to lean upon when the baseness of men makes my heart
fail."
" These friends will never fail you, sire, " said the marquis, deeply
moved ; " your virtues and your love made them strong. "
The king took his hand affectionately. " Let us forget the past, "
said he, gayly ; " and as we both, in our weak hours, consider our-
selves poets, let us dream that we are in my library in our beloved
Sans-Souci. We will devote this holy time of peace to our studies,
for that is, without doubt, the best use we can make of it. You
shall see a flood of verses with which I amused myself in camp, and
some epigrams written against my enemies. "
"But if we were even now in Sans-Souci, sire, I do not think
you would give this hour to books. I dare assert you would be
practising with Quantz, and preparing for the evening concerts. "
" Yes, yes ; but here we are denied that happiness, " said the king,
sadly. " I have written for a part of my band, and they will be here
I hope in eight days ; but Graun and Quantz will certainly not '
The king paused and listened attentively. It seemed to him as if
he heard the sound of a violin in the adjoining room, accompanied
by the light tones of a flute. Yes, it was indeed so ; some one was
tuning a violin and the soft sound of the flute mingled with the
violoncello. A flush of rosy joy lighted the king's face he cast a
questioning glance upon the marquis, who nodded smilingly. With
a joyful cry the king crossed the room an expression of glad sur-
prise bur-st from his lips.
There they were, the loved companions of his evening concerts.
There was Graun, with his soft, dreamy, artistic face ; there was
Quantz, with his silent, discontented look whose grumbling, even
Frederick was compelled to respect ; there was the young Fasch,
whom the king had just engaged, and who played the violoncello in
the evening concerts.
As the king advanced to meet them, they greeted him loudly .
" Long live our king ! our great Frederick !" Even Quantz forgot
himself for a moment, and laughed good-humoredly.
"Listen, sire ; it will be a mortal sin if you scold us for coming
to you without being summoned by your majesty. This is through-
260 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
out all Prussia a festal day, and no one should desecrate it by scold
ing or fault-finding not even the king. "
" Oh, I am not disposed to scold, " said Frederick, in low tones ;
he did not wish them to hear how his voice trembled " I do not
scold I thank you heartily. "
"We had nothing better to send your majesty on your birthday
than our unworthy selves, " said Graun ; " we come, therefore, to lay
ourselves at our king's feet, and say to him: 'Accept our hearts,
and do not spurn the gift. ' A warm, human heart is the richest
gift one man can offer another. Your majesty is a great king, and
a good and great man. and we dare approach you, therefore, as man
to man. "
" And my Graun is so renowned a composer, that any man must
count it an honor to be beloved by him, " said Frederick, tenderly.
" For myself, " said Quantz, gravely, handing the king a small
roll carefully wrapped up, "I have brought seomthing more than
my naked heart in honor of my king's birthday. I pray your maj-
esty to accept it graciously. " *
The king opened, it hastily. " A flute !" cried he, joyfully, " and
a flute made for me by the great master Quantz, I am sure. "
"Yes, your majesty; all the time you were in the field, I have
worked upon it. As the courier brought the news of the battle of
Leuthen, all Berlin shouted for joy, and the banners floated in every
street and at every window. Then this flute broke its silence for
the first time its first music was a hosanna to our great king. "
" Fom this time forth, " said Frederick, " let no man dare to say
that battles are in vain. The bloody field of Leuthen produced a
flute from Quantz ; and by Heaven, that is a greater rarity than th
most complete victory in these warlike days !"
" Sire, " said the marquis, drawing some letters from his pocket,
" I have also some gifts to offer. This is a letter from Algarotti, and
a small box of Italian snuff, which he begs to add as an evidence of
his rejoicing in your victories. \ Here is a letter from Voltaire, and
one from Lord Marshal. "
"From all my distant friends they have all thought of me, " said
Frederick, as he took the letters.
" But I have no time to read letters now ; we will have music,
and if agreeable to you, messieurs, we will practise a quartet which
I composed during my solitude these last few days. "
"Let us try it," said Quantz, carelessly opening the piano.
Frederick went to his room to seek his note-book, and place his
letters upon the table, but, before he returned, he called the marquis
to him.
* Poctis, " Frederick the Great and his Friends."
t Ibid.
WINTER QUARTERS IN BRESLAU. 261
"D'Argens, " said he, "may I not thank you for this agreeable
surprise ?"
" Yes, sire, I proposed it, and took the responsibility upon myself.
If your majesty is displeased, I am the only culprit I"
"And why have you made yourself the postilion, and brought
me all these letters, marquis?"
"Sire, because "
" I will tell you, marquis, " said Frederick, with a loving glance,
and laying his hand upon D'Argens' shoulder; "you did this, be-
cause you knew my poor heart had received a deep wound, and you
wished to heal it. You wished to surround me with many friends,
and make me forget the one who fails, and who betrayed me. I
thank you, marquis ! Yours is a great heart, and I believe your
balsam has magic in it. I thank you for this hour, it has done me
good ; and though the world may succeed in poisoning my heart, I
will never never distrust you ; I will never forget this hour !"
"And now, messieurs," said Frederick, as he returned to the
musicians, "we will take our parts, and you, Quantz, take your
place at the piano. "
The concert began. Frederick stood behind the piano, at which
Quantz sat ; Graun and Fasch had withdrawn to the window, in
order to enjoy the music, as Frederick was first to play a solo on his
flute, with a simple piano accompaniment.
The king played artistically, and with a rare enthusiasm. The
marquis was in ecstasy, and Graun uttered a few low bravos. Sud-
denly, all the musicians shuddered, and Quantz was heard to mutter
angrily. The king had committed a great fault in his composition
a fault against the severest rules of art. He played on, however,
quietly, and said, when he had completed the page " Da capo ! "
and recommenced. Again came the false notes, frightful to the ears
of musicians. And now Graun and Fasch could not keep time.
The king held his breath.
" Go on, Quantz, " said he, zealously, placing the flute again to
his lips.
Quantz cast a sullen look at him.
"As your majesty pleases," said he, and he played so fiercely
that Graun and Fasch shivered, and Quantz himself whistled to
drown the discord. The unlearned marquis looked in blessed igno-
rance upon his royal friend, and the beautiful music brought tears
to his eyes. When the piece was ended, the king said to Quantz :
"Do you find this text false?"
"Yes, your majesty, it is false !"
"And you two also believe it false?"
"Yes, your majesty, it is false!" said Graun and Fascn.
262 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" But, if the composer will have it so?"
"It is still false !" said Quantz, sullenly.
"But if it pleases me, and I think it melodious?"
" Your majesty can never find it so, " said Quantz, angrily. " The
notes are false, and what is false can never please your majesty. "
"Well, well!" said the king, good-humoredly ; "don't be quite
so angry ! it is, after all, not a lost battle ! * If this passage is im-
possible, we will strike it out. "
" If your majesty does that, it will be a beautiful composition,
and I would be proud myself to have composed it. "
The king smiled, well pleased. It was evident that this praise of
his proud and stern master was most acceptable to the hero of
Leuthen and Rossbach.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE BROKEN HEART.
A CARRIAGE stopped before the pleasure palace of Oranienburg.
The lady who sat in it, cast anxious, questioning glances at the
windows, and breathed a heavy sigh when she saw the closed shut-
ters, and observed the absence of life and movement in the palace.
At this moment an officer stepped hastily from the great portal to
greet the lady, and assist her to descend.
" Does he still live?" said she, breathlessly.
"He lives, countess, and awaits you eagerly !" said the officer.
She did not reply, but raised her large, melancholy eyes thank-
fully to heaven, and her lips moved as if in prayer.
They stepped silently and rapidly through the dazzling saloons,
now drear and deserted. Their pomp and splendor was painful ; it
harmonized but little with their sad presentiments.
" We have arrived, countess, " said the officer, as they stood be-
fore a closed and thickly-curtained door. "The prince is in this
garden -saloon."
The lady's heart beat loudly, and her lips were pale as death.
She leaned for a moment against the door, and tried to gather
strength.
" I am ready ! announce roe to the prince !"
" That is unnecessary, countess. The prince's nerves are so sen-
sitive, that the slightest noise does not escape him. He heard the
rolling of your carriage- wheels, and knows that you are here. He
is expecting you, and has commanded that you come unannounced,
* The king's own words.
THE BROKEN HEART. 263
Have the goodness to enter; you will be alone with the prince."
He raised the curtain, and the countess looked back once more.
"Is there any hope?" said she, to her companion.
" None ! The physician says he must die to-day !"
The countess opened the door so noiselessly, that not the slightest
sound betrayed her presence. She sank upon a chair near the
entrance, and fixed her tearful eyes with inexpressible agony upon
the pale form, which lay upon the bed, near the open door, leading
into the garden.
What ! this wan, emaciated figure, that countenance of deadly
pallor, those fallen cheeks, those bloodless lips, the hollow temples,
thinly shaded by the lifeless, colorless hair was that Augustus
William? the lover of her youth, the worshipped dream-picture of
her whole life, the never-effaced ideal of her faithful heart?
As she looked upon him, the sweetly-painful, sad, and yet glori-
ous past, seemed to fill her soul. She felt that her heart was young,
and beat, even now, as ardently for him who lay dying before her,
as in the early time, when they stood side by side in the fulness of
youth, beauty, and strength when they stood side by side for the
last time.
At that time, she died ! Youth, happiness, heart were buried ;
but now, as she looked upon him, the coffin unclosed, the shroud
fell back, and the immortal spirits greeted each other with the love
of the olden time.
And now, Laura wept no more. Enthusiasm, inspiration were
written upon her face. She felt no earthly pain ; the heavenly peace
of the resurrection morning filled her soul. She arose and ap-
proached the prince. He did not see her ; his eyes were closed.
Perhaps he slumbered ; perhaps the king of terrors had already
pressed his first bewildering kiss upon the pale brow. Laura bent
over and looked upon him. Her long, dark ringlets fell around his
face like a mourning veil. She listened to his light breathing, and,
bowing lower, kissed the poor, wan lips.
He opened his eyes very quietly, without surprise. Peacefully,
joyfully he looked up at her. And Laura she asked no longer if
that wasted form could be the lover of her youth. In his eyes she
found the long-lost treasure the love, the youth, the soul of the
glorious past.
Slowly the prince raised his arms, and drew her toward him.
She sank down, and laid her head by his cold cheek. Her hot breath
wafted him a new life- current, and seemed to call back his soul
from the spirit- world.
For a long time no word was spoken. How could they speak, in
this first consecrated moment? They felt so much, that language
Ml FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
failed. They lay heart to heart, and only God understood their
hollow sighs, their unspoken prayers, their suppressed tears. Only
God was with them ! God sent through the open doors the fresh
fragrance of the flowers ; He sent the winds, His messengers, through
the tall trees, and their wild, melancholy voices were like a solemn
organ, accompanying love's last hymn. In the distant thickets the
nightingale raised her melancholy notes, for love's last greeting.
Thus eternal Nature greets the dying sons of men.
God was with His children. Their thoughts were prayers ; their
eyes, which at first were fixed upon each other, now turned plead-
ingly to heaven.
" I shall soon be there !" said Prince Augustus " soon ! I shall live
a true life, and this struggle with death will soon be over. For
sixteen years I have been slowly dying, day by day, hour by hour.
Laura, it has been sixteen years, has it not?"
She bowed silently.
" No, " said he, gazing earnestly upon her ; " it was but yesterday.
I know now that it was but yesterday. You are just the same un-
changed, my Laura. This is the same angel-face which I have
carried in my heart. Nothing is changed, and I thank God for it.
It would have been a great grief to look upon you and find a
strange face by my side. This is my Laura, my own Laura, who
left me sixteen years ago. And now, look at me steadily ; see
what life has made of me ; see how it has mastered me tortured
me to death with a thousand wounds ! I call no man my mur-
derer, but I die of these wounds. Oh, Laura ! why did you for-
sake me? Why did you not leave this miserable, hypocritical,
weary world of civilization, and follow me to the New World, where
the happiness of a true life awaited us?"
" I dared not, " said she ; " God demanded this offering of me,
and because I loved you boundlessly I was strong to submit. God
also knows what it cost me, and how these many years I have strug-
gled with my heart, and tried to learn to forget. "
" Struggle no longer, Laura, I am dying ; when I am dead you
dare not forget me. "
She embraced him with soft tenderness.
"No, no," whispered she, "God is merciful! He will not rob
me of the only consolation of my joyless, solitary life. I had only
this. To think he lives, he breathes the same air, he looks up into
the same heavens the same quiet stars greet him and me. And a
day will come in which millions of men will shout and call him
their king ; and when I look upon his handsome face, and see him
in the midst of his people, surrounded by pomp and splendor, I dare
say to myself, That is my work. I loved him more than I loved my-
THE BROKEN HEART. 265
self, therefore he wears a crown I had the courage not only to die
for him, but to live without him, and therefore is he a king. Oh,
my beloved, say not that you are dying !"
" If you love me truly, Laura, you will not wish me to live. In-
deed I have long been dying. For sixteen years I have felt the
death- worm in my heart it gnaws and gnaws. I have tried to
crush it I wished to live, because I had promised you to bear my
burden. I wished to prove myself a man. I gave the love which
you laid at my feet, bathed in our tears and our blood, to my father-
land. I was told that I must marry, to promote the interest of my
country, and I did so. I laid a mask over my face, and a mask over
my heart. I wished to play my part in the drama of life to the end ;
I wished to honor my royal birth to which fate had condemned me.
But it appears I was a bad actor. I was cast out from my service,
my gay uniform and royal star torn from my breast. I, a prince,
was sent home a humiliated, degraded, ragged beggar. I crept with
my misery and my shame into this corner, and no one followed me.
No one showed a spark of love for the poor, spurned cast-away.
Love would have enabled me to overcome all, to defy the world, and
to oppose its slanders boldly. I was left alone to bear my shame and
my despair wholly alone. I have a wife, I have children, and I
am alone ; they live far away from me, and at the moment of my
death they will smile and be happy. I am the heir of a throne, but
a poor beggar ; I asked only of fate a little love, but I asked in
vain. Fate had no pity only when I am dead will I be a prince
again ; then they will heap honors upon my dead body. Oh, Laura !
how it burns in my heart how terrible is this hell-fire of shame 1
It eats up the marrow of my bones and devours my brain. Oh, my
head, my head ! how terrible is this pain !"
With a loud sob he sank back on the pillow ; his eyes closed,
great drops of sweat stood on his brow, and the breath seemed strug-
gling in his breast.
Laura bowed over him, she wiped away the death-sweat with
her hair, and hot tears fell on the poor wan face. These tears
aroused him he opened his eyes.
" I have got something to say, " whispered he ; "I feel that I shall
soon be well. When the world says of me, 'He is dead,' I shall
have just awaked from death. There above begins the tr: e life ;
what is here so called is only a pitiful prologue. We live here only
that we may learn to wish for death. Oh, my Laura ! I shall soon
live, love, and be happy. "
"Oh, take me with you, my beloved," cried Laura, kneeling be-
fore him, dissolved in tears. " Leave me not alone it is so sad, so
solitary in this cold world ! Take me with you, my beloved !"
18
266 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
He heard her not ! Death had already touched him with the
point of his dark wings, and spread his mantle over him. His
spir.'t struggled with the exhausted body and panted to escape. He
no longer heard when Laura called, but he still lived : his eyes were
wide open and he spoke again. But they were single, disconnected
words, which belonged to the dreamland and the forms of the in-
visible world which his almost disembodied spirit now looked upon.
Once he said, in a loud voice, and this time he looked with full
consciousness upon Laura, " I close my life a life of sorrow. Win-
terfeldt has shortened my days, but I die content in knowing that so
bad, so dangerous a man is no longer in the army. " *
His mind wandered, and he thought he was on the battle-field,
and called out, loudly :
" Forward ! forward to the death !"
Then all was still but the song of the birds and the sighing winds.
Laura knelt and prayed. When she turned her glance from the
cloudless heavens upon her beloved, his countenance was changed.
There was a glory about it, and his great, wide-opened eyes flashed
with inspiration ; he raised his dying head and greeted the trees
and flowers with his last glance.
" How beautiful is the world when one is about to die, " said he,
with a sweet smile. " Farewell, world ! Farewell, Laura ! Come,
* The prince's own words. He died the 18th of June, 1758, at thirty-six years of
age. As his adjutant, Von Hagen, brought the news of his death to the king,
Frederick asked, " Of what diseasedid my brother die ?" " Grief and shame short-
tened his life, "said the officer. Frederick turned his back on him without a reply,
and Von Hagen was never promoted.
The king erected a monument to Winterfeldt, Ziethen, and Schwerin, but he left
it to his brother Henry to erect one to the Prince of Prussia. This was done in
Reinenz, where a lofty pyramid was built in honor of the heroes of the Seven Years'
War. The names of all the generals, and all the battles they had gained were en-
graven upon it, and it was crowned by a bust of Augustus William, the great-grand-
father of the present King of Prussia.
The king erected a statue to Winterfeldt, and forgot his brother, and now Prince
Henry forgot to place Winterfeldt's name among the heroes of the war. When the
monument was completed, the prince made a speech, which was full of enthu-
siastic praise of his beloved brother, so early numbered with tbe dead. Prince Henry
betrayed by insinuation the strifes and difficulties which always reigned between the
king and himself ; he did not allude to the king during his speech, and did not class
him among the heroes of the Seven Years' War.
ID speaking of the necessity of a monument in memory of his best beloved brother,
Augustus William, he alluded to the statue of Winterfeldt, and added: "L'abus des
richesses et du pouvoir eleve des statues de marbre et de bronze a ceur qui n'etaient
pas dignes de passer a la post6rit6 sous 1'embleme de 1'honneur." Rouille's " Vie
du Prince Henry."
Recently a signal honor has been shown to Prince Augustus William, his statue
has the principal place on the monument erected in honor of Frederick the Great
in Berlin. Rouille.
THE BROKEN HEART. 267
take me in your arms let me die in the arms of love ! Hate has its
reign in this world, but love goes down with us into the cold grave.
Farewell ! farewell ! farewell !"
His head fell upon Laura's shoulder; one last gasp, one last
shudder, and the heir of a throne, the future ruler of millions, was
nothing but a corpse.
The trees whispered gayly no cloud shadowed the blue heavens ;
the birds sang, the flowers bloomed, and yet in that eventful moment
a prince was born, a pardoned soul was wafted to the skies.
Love pressed the last kiss upon the poor, wan lips ; love closed
the weary eyes ; love wept over him ; love prayed for his soul.
" Hate has her reign in this poor world, love goes down with m
into the dark tomb. "
BOOK IY.
CHAPTER I.
THE KING AND HIS OLD AND NEW ENEMIES.
THREE years, three long, terrible years had passed since the be-
ginning of this fearful war ; since King Frederick of Prussia had
stood alone, without any ally but distant England, opposed by all
Europe.
These three years had somewhat undeceived the proud and self-
confident enemies of Frederick. The pope still called him the Mar-
quis of Brandenburg, and the German emperor declared that, not-
withstanding the adverse circumstances threatening him on every
side, the King of Prussia was still a brave and undaunted adversary.
His enemies, after having for a long time declared that they would
extinguish him and reduce him once more to the rank of the little
Prince-Elector of Brandenburg, now began to fear him. From
every battle, from every effort, from every defeat, King Frederick
rose up with a clear brow and flashing eye, and unshaken courage.
Even the lost battles did not cast a shadow upon the lustre of his
victories. In both the one and the other he had shown himself a
hero, greater even after the battles in his composure and decision,
in his unconquerable energy, in the circumspection and presence of
mind by which he grasped at a glance all the surroundings, and
converted the most threatening into favorable circumstances. After
a great victory his enemies might indeed say they had conquered
the King of Prussia, but never that they had subdued him. He
stood ever undaunted, ever ready for the contest, prepared to attack
them when they least expected it ; to take advantage of every weak
point, and to profit by every incautious movement. The fallen
ranks of his brave soldiers appeared to be dragons' teeth, which
produced armed warriors.
In the camps of the allied Austrians, Saxons, and Russians hun-
ger and sickness prevailed. In Vienna, Petersburg, and Dresden,
the costs and burden of the war were felt to be almost insupportable.
The Prussian army was healthy, their magazines well stocked, and,
thanks to the English subsidy, the treasury seemed inexhaustible.
THE KING AND HIS OLD AND NEW ENEMIES. 269
Three years, as we have said, of never-ceasing struggle had gone
by. The heroic brow of the great Frederick had been wreathed
with new laurels. The battles of Losovitz, of Rossbach, of Leuthen,
and of Zorndorf were such dazzling victories that they were not even
obscured by the defeats of Collin and Hochkirch. The allies made
their shouts of victory resound throughout all Europe, and used
every means to produce the impression upon the armies and the
people that these victories were decisive.
Another fearful enemy, armed with words of Holy Writ, waj;
now added to the list of those who had attacked him with the sword.
This new adversary was Pope Clement XIII. He mounted the apos-
tolic throne in May, 1758, and immediately declared himself the
irreconcilable foe of the little Marquis of Brandenburg, who had
dared to hold up throughout Prussia all superstition and bigotry to
mockery and derision ; who had illuminated the holy gloom and
obscurity of the church with the clear light of reason and truth ;
who misused the priests and religious orders, and welcomed and
assisted in Prussia all those whom the holy mother Catholic Church
banished for heresies and unbelief.
Benedict, the predecessor of the present pope, was also known to
have been the enemy of Frederick, but he was wise enough to be
silent and not draw down upon the cloisters, and colleges, and
Catholics of Prussia the rage of the king.
But Clement, in his fanatical zeal, was not satisfied to pursue
this course. He was resolved to do battle against this heretical
king. He fulminated the anathemas of the church and bitter im-
precations against him, and showered down words of blessing and
salvation upon all those who declared themselves his foes. Because
of this fanatical hatred, Austria received a new honor, a new title
from the hands of the pope. As a reward for her enmity to this
atheistical marquis, and the great service which she had rendered
in this war, the pope bestowed the title of apostolic majesty upon
the empress and her successors. Not only the royal house of Aus-
tria, but the generals and the whole army of pious and believing
Christians, should know and feel that the blessing of the pope
rested upon their arms, protecting them from adversity and de-
feat. The glorious victory of Hochkirch must be solemnly cele-
brated, and the armies of the allies incited to more daring deeds of
arms.
For this reason, Pope Clement sent to Field-Marshal Daun, who
had commanded at the battle of Hochkirch, a consecrated hat and
sword, thus changing this political into a religious war. It was no
longer a question of earthly possessions, but a holy contest against
an heretical enemy of mother church. Up to this time, these conse-
270 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
crated gifts had been only bestowed upon generals who had already
subdued unbelievers or subjugated barbarians.*
But King Frederick of Prussia laughed at these attacks of God's
vicegerent. To his enemies, armed with the sword, he opposed his
own glittering blade ; to his popish enemy, armed with the tongue
and the pen, he opposed the same weapons. He met the first in the
open field, the last in winter quarters, through those biting, mock-
ing, keen Fliegenden Bldttem, which at that time made all Europe
roar with laughter, and crushed and brought to nothing the great
deeds of the pope by the curse of ridicule.
The consecrated hat and sword of Field-Marshal Daun lost its
value through the letter of thanks from Daun to the pope, which the
king intercepted, and which, even in Austria, was laughed at and
made sport of.
The congratulatory letter of the Princess Soubise to Daun was
also made public, and produced general merriment.
When the pope called Frederick the "heretical Marchese di
Brandenburgo, " the king returned the compliment by calling him
the " Grand Lama, " and delighted himself over the assumed infalli-
bility of the vicegerent of the Most High.
But the king not only scourged the pope with his satirical pen
the modest and prudish Empress Maria Theresa was also the victim
of his wit. He wrote a letter, supposed to be from the Marquise de
Pompadour to the Queen of Hungary, in which the inexplicable
friendship between the virtuous empress and the luxurious mistress
of Louis was mischievously portrayed. This letter of Frederick's
was spread abroad in every direction, and people were not only
naive enough to read it, but to believe it genuine. The Austrian
court saw itself forced to the public declaration that all these letters
were false ; that Field-Marshal Daun had not received a consecrated
wig, but a hat ; and that the empress had never received a letter of
this character fom the Marquise de Pompadour, f
These Fliegende Bldttern, as we have said, were the weapons
with which King Frederick fought against his enemies when the
rough, inclement winter made it impossible for him to meet them
in the open field. In the winter quarters in 1758 most of those let-
ters appeared ; and no one but the Marquis d'Argens, the most faith -
* CEuvres Posthumes, vol. iii.
+ In this letter the marquise complained bitterly that the empress had made it
impossible for her to hasten to Vienna and offer her the homage, the love, the friend-
ship she cherished for her in her heart. The empress had established a court of vir-
tue and modesty in Vienna, and this tribunal could hardly receive the Pompadour
graciously. The marquise, therefore, entreated the empress to execute judgment
against this fearful tribunal of virtue, and to bow to the yoke of the omnipotent god-
dess Venus. All these letters can be seen in the "Supplement aux CEuvres POB-
thumeB."
THE KING AND HIS OLD AND NEW ENEMIES. 271
ful friend of Frederick, guessed who was the author of these hated
and feared satires.
The enemies of the king also made use of this winter rest to make
every possible aggression ; they had their acquaintances and spies
throughout Germany ; under various pretences and disguises, they
were scattered abroad even in the highest court circles of Berlin
they were zealously at work. By flattery, and bribery, and glitter-
ing promises, they made friends and adherents, and in the capital
of Prussia they found ready supporters and informers. They were
not satisfied with this they were haughty and bold enough to seek
for allies among the Prussians, and hoped to obtain entrance into
the walls of the cities, and possession of the fortresses by treachery.
The Austrian and Russian prisoners confined in the fortress of
Kustrin conspired to give it up to the enemy. The number of Rus-
sian prisoners sent to the fortress of Kustrin after the battle of
Zorndorf , was twice as numerous as the garrison, and if they could
succeed in getting possession of the hundred cannon captured at
Zorndorf, and placed as victorious trophies in the market-place, it
would be an easy thing to fall upon and overcome the garrison.
This plan was all arranged, and about to be carried out, but it
was discovered the day before its completion. The Prussian com-
mander doubled the guard before the casemates in which three
thousand Russian prisoners were confined, and arrested the Russian
officers. Their leader, Lieutenant von Yaden of Courland, was
accused, condemned by the court-martial, and, by the express com-
mand of the king, broken upon the wheel. Even this terrible ex-
ample bore little fruit. Ever new attempts were being made ever
new conspiracies discovered amongst the prisoners ; and whilst the
armies of the allies were attacking Prussia outwardly, the prisoners
were carrying on a not less dangerous guerilla war the more to be
feared because it was secret not in the open field and by day, but
under the shadow of night and the veil of conspiracy.
Nowhere was this warfare carried on more vigorously than in
Berlin. All the French taken at Rossbach, all the Austrians cap-
tured at Leuthen, and the Russian officers of high rank taken at
Zorndorf, had been sent by the king to Berlin. They had the most
enlarged liberty ; the whole city was their prison, and only their
word of honor bound them not to leave the walls of Berlin. Besides
this, all were zealous to alleviate the sorrows of the " poor captives, "
and by fetes and genial amusements to make them forget their cap-
tivity. The doors of all the first houses were opened to the distin-
guished strangers everywhere they were welcome guests, and there
was no assembly at the palace to which they were not invited.
Even in these fearful times, balls and f$tea were given at the
272 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
court. Anxious and sad faces were hidden under gay masks, and
the loud sound of music and dancing drowned the heavy sighs of
the desponding. While the Austrians, Russians, and Prussians
strove with each other on the bloody battle-field, the Berlin ladies
danced the graceful Parisienne dances with the noble prisoners.
This was now the mode.
Truly there were many aching hearts in this gay and merry city,
but they hid their grief and tears in their quiet, lonely chambers,
and their clouded brows cast no shadow upon the laughing, rosy
faces of the beautiful women whose brothers, husbands, and lovers,
were far away on the bloody battle-field If not exactly willing to
accept these strangers as substitutes, they were at least glad to seek
distraction in their society. After all, it is impossible to be always
mourning, always complaining, always leading a cloistered life.
In the beginning, the oath of constancy and remembrance, which
all had sworn at parting, had been religiously preserved, and Berlin
had the physiognomy of a lovely, interesting, but dejected widow,
who knew and wished to know nothing of the joys of life. But
suddenly Nature had asserted her own inexorable laws, which teach
forgetfulness and inspire hope. The bitterest tears were dried
the heaviest sighs suppressed ; people had learned to reconcile them-
selves to life, and to snatch eagerly at every ray of sunshine which
could illumine the cold, hopeless desert, which surrounded them.
They had seen that it was quite possible to live comfortably, even
while wild war was blustering and raging without that weak, frail
human nature, refused to be ever strained, ever excited, in the ex-
pectation of great events. In the course of these three fearful years,
even the saddest had learned again to laugh, jest, and be gay, in
spite of death and defeat. They loved their fatherland they shouted
loudly and joyfully over the great victories of their king they
grieved sincerely over his defeats ; but they could not carry their
animosities so far as to be cold and strange to the captive officers
who were compelled by the chances of war to remain in Berlin.
They had so long striven not to seek to revenge themselves upon these
powerless captives, that they had at last truly forgotten they were
enemies ; and these handsome, entertaining, captivating, gallant
gentlemen were no longer looked upon even as prisoners, but as
strangers and travellers, and therefore they should receive the honors
of the city.*
The king commanded that these officers should receive all atten-
tion. It was also the imperative will of the king that court balls
should be given ; he wished to prove to the world that his family
were neither sad nor dispirited, but gay, bold, and hopeful.
* Sulzer writes : " The prisoners of war are treated here as if they were distin-
guished travellers and visitors."
THE THREE OFFICERS. 213
CHAPTER II.
THE THREE OFFICERS.
IT was the spring of 1759. Winter quarters were broken up, and
it was said the king had left Breslau and advanced boldly to meet
the enemy. The Berlin journals contained accounts of combats and
skirmishes which had taken place here and there between the Prus-
sians and the allies, and in which, it appeared, the Prussians had
always been unfortunate.
Three captive officers sat in an elegant room of a house near the
castle, and conversed upon the news of the day, and stared at the
morning journals which lay before them on the table.
" I beg you, " said one of them in French " I beg you will have
the goodness to translate this sentence for me. I think it has rela-
tion to Prince Henry, but I find it impossible to decipher this bar-
barous dialect. " He handed the journal to his neighbor, and pointed
with his finger to the paragraph.
" Yes, there is something about Prince Henry, " said the other,
with a peculiar accent which betrayed the Russian ; " and something,
Monsieur Belleville, which will greatly interest you. "
" Oh, I beseech you to read it to us, " said the Frenchman, some-
what impatiently ; then, turning graciously to the third gentleman
who sat silent and indifferent near him, he added : " We must first
ascertain, however, if our kind host, Monsieur le Comte di Ranuzi,
consents to the reading. "
" I gladly take part, " said the Italian count, " in any thing that
is interesting ; above all, in every thing which has no relation to
this wearisome and stupid Berlin. "
" Vraiment ! you are right, " sighed the Frenchman. " It is a
dreary and ceremonious region. They are so inexpressibly prudish
and virtuous so filled with old-fashioned scruples led captive by
such little prejudices that I should be greatly amused at it, if I did
not suffer daily from the dead monotony it brings. What would
the enchanting mistress of France what would the Marquise de
Pompadour say, if she could see we, the gay, witty, merry Belleville,
conversing with such an aspect of pious gravity with this poor
Queen of Prussia, who makes a face if one alludes to La Pucelle
d'Orleans, and wishes to make it appear that she has not read
Crebillon !"
"Tell me, now, Giurgenow, how is it with your court of Peters-
burg? Is it as formal, as ceremonious as here in Prussia?"
Giurgenow laughed aloud. "Our Empress Elizabeth is an angel
274 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
of beauty and goodness mild and magnanimous to all sacrificing
herself constantly to the good of others. Last year she gave a ball
to her body-guard. She danced with every one of the soldiers, and
sipped from every glass ; and when the soldiers, carried away by
her grace and favor, dared to indulge in somewhat free jests, the
good empress laughed merrily, and forgave them. On that auspi-
cious day she first turned her attention to the happy Bestuchef . He
was then a poor subordinate officer now he is a prince and one of
the richest men in Russia. "
"It appears that your Russia has some resemblance to my beauti-
ful France, " said Belleville, gayly. " But how is it with you, Count
Ranuzi? Is the Austrian court like the court of France, or like this
wearisome Prussia?"
" The Austrian court stands alone resembles no other, " said the
Italian, proudly. "At the Austrian court we have a tribunal of
justice to decide all charges against modesty and virtue. The
Empress Maria Theresa is its president. "
"Diable!" cried the Frenchman, "what earthly chance would
the Russian empress and my lovely, enchanting marquise have, if
summoned before this tribunal by their most august ally the Empress
Maria Theresa? But you forget, Giurgenow, that you have prom-
ised to read us something from the journal about Prince Henry. "
"It is nothing of importance, " said the Russian, apathetically;
"the prince has entirely recovered from his wounds, and has been
solacing himself in his winter camp at Dresden with the representa-
tions upon the French stage. He has taken part as actor, and has
played the role of Voltaire's Enfant Prodigue. It is further written,
that he has now left the comic stage and commenced the graver
game of arms. "
" He might accidentally change these rdles, " said Belleville, gayly,
" and play the Enfant Prodigue when he should play the hero. In
which would he be the greater, do you know, Ranuzi?"
The Italian shrugged his shoulders. " You must ask his wife. "
"Or Baron Kalkreuth, who has lingered here for seven months
because of his wounds," said Giurgenow, with a loud laugh. "Be-
sides, Prince Henry is averse to this war ; all his sympathies are on
our side. If the fate of war should cost the King of Prussia his
life, we would soon have peace and leave this detestable Berlin
this dead, sandy desert, where we are now languishing as prisoners. "
" The god of war is not always complaisant, " said the French-
man, grimly. " He does not always strike those whom we would
gladly see fall ; the balls often go wide of the mark. "
"Truly a dagger is more reliable," said Ranuzi, coolly.
The Russian cast a quick, lowering side glance upon him.
THE THREE OFFICERS. 275
" Not always sure, " said he. " It is said that men armed with
daggers have twice found their way into the Prussian camp, and
been caught in the king's tent. Their daggers have been as little
fatal to the king as the cannon-balls. "
"Those who bore the daggers were Dutchmen," said Ranuzi,
apathetically ; " they do not understand this sort of work. One must
learn to handle the dagger in my fatherland. "
"Have you learned?" said Giurgenow, sharply.
"I have learned a little of every thing. I am a dilettanti in
all."
" But you are master in the art of love, " said Belleville, smiling.
" Much is said of your love-affairs, monsieur. "
"Much is said that is untrue," said the Italian, quietly. "I love
no intrigues least of all, love intrigues ; while you, sir, are known
as a veritable Don Juan. I learn that you are fatally in love with
the beautiful maid of honor of the Princess Henry. "
" Ah, you mean the lovely Fraulein von Marshal, " said Giurge-
now ; " I have also heard this, and I admire the taste and envy the
good fortune of Belleville. "
" It is, indeed, true, " said Belleville ; " the little one is pretty,
and I divert myself by making love to her. It is our duty to teach
these little Dutch girls, once for all, what true gallantry is. "
" And is that your only reason for paying court to this beautiful
girl?" said Giurgenow, frowningly.
"The only reason, I assure you," cried Belleville, rising up, and
drawing near the window. " But, look, " cried he, hastily ; " what
a crowd of men are filling the streets, and how the people are crying
and gesticulating, as if some great misfortune had fallen upon
them !"
The two officers hastened to his side and threw open the window.
A great crowd of people was indeed assembled in the platz, and
they were still rushing from the neighboring streets into the wide,
open square, in the middle of which, upon a few large stones, a
curious group were exhibiting themselves.
There stood a tall, thin man, enveloped in a sort of black robe ;
his long gray hair fell in wild locks around his pallid and fanatical
countenance. In his right hand he held a bible, which he waved
aloft to the people, while his large, deeply- set, hollow eyes were
raised to heaven, and his pale lips murmured light and unintelligi-
ble words. By his side stood a woman, also in black, with dis-
hevelled hair floating down her back. Her face was colorless ; she
looked like a corpse, and her thin, blue lips were pressed together as
if in death. There was life in her eyes a gloomy, wild, fanatical
fire flashed from them. Her glance was glaring and uncertain, like
276 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
a will-o'-the-wisp, and filled those upon whom it fell with a shiver,
ing, mysterious feeling of dread.
And now, as if by accident, she looked to the windows where the
three gentlemen were standing. The shadow of a smile passed over
her face, and she bowed her head almost imperceptibly. No one
regarded this ; no one saw that Giurgenow answered this greeting,
and smiled back significantly upon this enigmatical woman.
" Do you know what this means, gentlemen ?" said Belleville.
"It means," said Giurgenow, "that the people will learn from
their great prophet something of the continuance, or rather of the
conclusion of this war. These good, simple people, as it seems to
me, long for rest, and wish to know when they may hope to attain it.
That man knows, for he is a great prophet, and all his prophecies
are fulfilled."
"But you forget to make mention of the woman?" said Ranuzi,
with a peculiar smile.
"The woman is, I think, a fortune-teller with cards, and the
Princess Amelia holds her in great respect ; but let us listen to what
the prophet says. "
They were silent, and listened anxiously. And now the voice of
the prophet raised itself high above the silent crowd. Pealing and
sounding through the air, it fell in trumpet-tones upon the ear, and
not one word escaped the eager and attentive people.
" Brothers, " cried the prophet, " why do you interrupt me? Why
do you disturb me, in my quiet, peaceful path me and this inno-
cent woman, who stood by my side last night, to read the dark stars,
and whose soul is sad, even as my own, at what we have seen. "
" What did you see?" cried a voice from the crowd.
"Pale, ghostly shadows, who, in bloody garments, wandered
here and there, weeping and wailing, seating themselves upon a
thousand open graves, and singing out their plaintive hymns of
lamentation. ' War ! war ! ' they cried, ' woe to war ! It kills our
men, devours our youths, makes widows of our women, and nuns of
our maidens. Woe, woe to war ! Shriek out a prayer to God for
peace peace ! O God, send us peace ; close these open graves, heal
our wounds, and let our great suffering cease !'"
The prophet folded his hands and looked to heaven, and now the
woman's voice was heard.
"But the heavens were dark to the prayer cf the spirits, and a
blood-red stream gushed from them ; colored the stars crimson,
turned the moon to a lake of blood, and piteous voices cried out
from the clouds, and in the air ' Fight on and die, for your king
wills it so ; your life belongs to him, your blood is his. ' Then,
from two rivulets of blood, giant like, pale, transparent fornw
RANUZI. 277
emerged ; upon the head of the first, I read the number, ' 1759. ' Then
the pale form opened its lips, and cried out : ' I bring war, and ever-
new bloodshed. Your king demands the blood of your sons ; give
it to him. He demands your gold ; give it to him. The king is
lord of your body, your blood, and your soul. When he speaks, you
must obey !'"
"It seems to me all this is a little too Russian in its conception,"
said Ranuzi, half aloud. "I shall be surprised if the police do not
interrupt this seance, which smells a little of insurrection. "
"The scene is so very piquant," said Giurgenow, "I would like
to draw nearer. Pardon me, gentlemen, I must leave you, and go
upon the square. It is interesting to hear what the people say, and
how they receive such prophecies. We can, perhaps, judge in this
way of the probabilities of peace and liberty. The voice of the
people is, in politics, ever the decisive voice." He took his hat,
and, bowing to the gentlemen, left the room hastily.
CHAPTER III.
RANUZI.
COUNT RANUZI gazed after the Russian with a mocking smile.
"Do you know, Belleville, where he is going?"
" He has not told us, but I guess it. He is going to approach
this fortune-teller, and give her a sign that her zeal has carried her
too far, and that, if not more prudent, she will betray herself. "
"You think, then, that Giurgenow knows the fortune-teller?"
" I am certain of it. He has engaged these charlatans to rouse
up the people, and excite them against the king. This is, indeed,
a very common mode of proceeding, and often successful ; but here,
in Prussia, it can bear no fruit. The people here have nothing to
do with politics ; the king reigns alone. The people are nothing
but a mass of subjects, who obey implicitly his commands, even
when they know, that in BO doing, they rush on destruction. "
" Giurgenow has failed, and he might have counted upon failure !
If you, Belleville, had resorted to these means, I could have under-
stood it. In France, the people play an important rdle in politics.
In order to put down the government, you must work upon the
people. You might have been forgiven for this attempt, but Giur-
genow never 1"
" You believe, then, that he is manoeuvring here, in Berlin, in
the interest of his government?" said Belleville, amazed.
Ranuzi laughed heartily.
278 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" That is a fine and diplomatic mode of expressing the thing !"
said he. "Yes, he is here in the interest of his government; but
when the Prussian government becomes acquainted with this fact,
they will consider him a spy. If discovered, he will be hung. If
successful, when once more at liberty, he may receive thanks and
rewards from Russia. See, now, how rightly I have prophesied !
There is Giurgenow, standing by the side of the prophetess, and I
imagine I almost hear the words he is whispering to her. She will
commence again to prophesy, but in a less violent and fanatical
manner. "
" No, no ; she will prophesy no more ! The police are breaking
their way forcibly through the crowd.. They do not regard the cries
of fear and suffering of those they are shoving so violently aside.
These are the servants of the police ; they will speedily put an end
to this prophesying. Already the people are flying. Look how
adroitly Giurgenow slips away, and does not condescend to give a
glance to the poor prophetess he inspired. Only see how little
respect these rough policemen have for these heaven- inspired proph-
ets ! They seize them rudely, and bear them off. They will be
punished with, at least, twenty-four hours' arrest. In Prussia, this
concourse and tumult of the people is not allowed. Come, monsieur,
let us close the window ; the comedy is over. The prophets are in
the watch-house. Their role is probably forever played out !" said
Belleville, smilingly.
" Not so ; they will recommence it to-morrow. These same
prophets have high and mighty protectors in Berlin ; the police
will not dare to keep them long under arrest. The Princess Amelia
will demand her fortune-teller. "
" Vraiment, monsieur le comte, " said the Frenchman, " you seem
extraordinarily well acquainted with all these intrigues?"
" I observe closely, " said Ranuzi, with a meaning smile. " I am
very silent therefore hear a great deal. "
" Well, I counsel you not to give to me or my actions the honor
of your observations, " said Belleville. " My life offers few opportu
nities for discovery. I live, I eat, I sleep, I chat, and write poetry,
and caress, and seek to amuse myself as well as possible. Some-
times I catch myself praying to God tearfully for liberty, and truly,
not from any political considerations simply from the selfish wish
to get away from here. You see, therefore, I am an innocent and
harmless bon enfant, not in the least troubled about public affairs. "
"No," said Ranuzi, "you do not love Fraulein Marshal at all
from political reasons, but solely because of her beauty, her grace,
and her charms. Behold, this is the result of my observations. "
"You have, then, been watching me ?" said Belleville, blushing.
RANUZT. 279
" I have told you that I was always observant. This is here my
only distraction and recreation, and really I do not know what I
should do with my time if I did not kill the weary hours in this
way. "
"You do employ it sometimes to a better purpose?" said the
Frenchman, in low tones. " Love is still for you a more agreeable
diversion, and you understand the game well. "
" It appears you are also an observer, " said Ranuzi, with an ironi-
cal smile. "Well, then, I do find love a sweeter diversion ; and if I
should yield myself up entirely to my love-dreams, I would perhaps
be less observant. But, Belleville, why do you take your hat? Will
you also leave me ?"
"I must, perforce. Through our agreeable conversation I had
entirely forgotten that I had promised Fraulein Marshal to ride with
her. A cavalier must keep his promise with a lady, at least till he
knows she is ardently in love with him." He gave his hand to the
duke, and as he left the room he hummed a light French chanson.
Ranuzi looked after him with a long, frowning glance. " Poor
fool, " murmured he, " he believes he plays his part so well that he
deceives even me. This mask of folly and levity he has assumed is
thin and transparent enough I see his true face behind it. It is the
physiognomy of a sly intriguant. Oh, I know him thoroughly ; I
understand every emotion of his heart, and I know well what his
passion for the beautiful Marshal signifies. She is the maid of
honor of the Princess Hemy this is the secret of his love. She is
the confidante of the princess, who receives every week long and
confidential letters from the tent of her tender husband. Fraulein
Marshal is naturally acquainted with their contents. The prince
certainly speaks in these letters of his love and devotion, but also a
little of the king's plans of battle. Fraulein von Marshal knows all
this. If Belleville obtains her love and confidence, he will receive
pretty correct information of what goes on in the tent of the king
and in the camp councils. So Belleville will have most important
dispatches to forward to his Marquise de Pompadour dispatches for
which he will be one day rewarded with honor and fortune. This
is the Frenchman's plan ! I see through him as I do through the
Russian. They are both paid spies informers of their governments
nothing more. They will be paid, or they will be hung, accord-
ing as accident is favorable or unfavorable to them. " Ranuzi was
silent, and walked hastily backward and forward in the room.
Upon his high, pale brow dark thoughts were written, and flashes
of anger flamed from his eyes.
" And I, " said he, after a long pause, " am I in any respect better
than they ? Will not the day come when I also will be considered
280 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
as a purchased spy? a miserable informer? and my name branded
with this title? No, no ; away with this dark spectre, which floats
like a black cloud between me and my purpose ! My aim is heaven ;
and what I do, I do in the name of the Church in the service of
this great, exalted Church, whose servant and priest I am. No, no ;
the world will not call me a spy, will not brand my name with
shame. God will bless my efforts as the Holy Father in Rome has
blessed them, and I shall reach the goal. "
Ranuzi was brilliantly handsome in this inspired mood ; his
noble and characteristic face seemed illuminated and as beautiful as
the angel of darkness, when surrounded by a halo of heavenly light.
" It is an exalted and great aim which I have set before me, " said
he, after another pause; "a work which the Holy Father himself
confided to me. I must and I will accomplish it to the honor of
God and the Holy Madonna. This blasphemous war must end ; this
atheistical and free-thinking king must be reduced, humbled, and
cast down from the stage he has mounted with such ostentatious
bravado. Silesia must be torn from the hands of this profligate
robber and incorporated in the crown of our apostolic majesty of
Austria. The holy Church dare not lose any of her provinces, and
Silesia will be lost if it remains in the hands of this heretical king ;
he must be punished for his insolence and scoffing, for having dared
to oppose himself to the Holy Father at Rome. The injuries which
he heaped upon the Queen of Poland must be avenged, and I will
not rest till he is so humbled, so crushed, as to sue for a shameful
peace, even as Henry the Fourth, clad like a peasant, pleaded to
Canoza. But the means, the means to attain this great object. "
Hastily and silently he paced the room, his head proudly thrown
back, and a cold, defiant glance directed upward.
" To kill him !" said he suddenly, as if answering the voices
which whispered in his soul ; " that would be an imbecile, misera-
ble resort, and, moreover, we would not obtain our object ; he would
not be humiliated, but a martyr's crown would Jbe added to his
laurels. When, however, he is completely humbled, when, to this
great victory at Hochkirch, we add new triumphs, when we have
taken Silesia and revenged Saxony, then he might die ; then we will
seek a sure hand which understands the dagger and its uses. Until
then, silence and caution ; until then this contest must be carried on
with every weapon which wisdom and craft can place in our hands.
I think my weapons are good and sharp, well fitted to give a telling
thrust ; and yet they are so simple, so threadbare a cunning
fortune-teller, a love-sick fool, a noble coquette, and a poor prisoner !
these are my only weapons, and with these I will defeat the man
whom his flatterers call the heroic King of Prussia. "
RANUZI. 281
He laughed aloud, but it was a ferocious, threatening laugh,
which shocked himself.
" Down, down, ye evil spirits, " said he ; "do not press forward
so boldly to my lips ; they are consecrated now to soft words and
tender sighs alone. Silence, ye demons ! creep back into my heart,
and there, from some dark corner, you can hear and see if my great
role is well played. It is time ! it is time ! I must once more prove
my weapons. "
He stepped to the glass and looked thoughtfully at his face, ex-
amined his eyes, his lips, to see if they betrayed the dark passions
of his soul ; then arranged his dark hair in soft, wavy lines over his
brow ; he rang for his servant, put on his Austrian uniform, and
buckled on the sword. The king had been gracious enough to allow
the captive officers in Berlin to wear their swords, only requiring
their word of honor that they would never use them again in this
war. When Count Ranuzi, the captive Austrian captain, had com-
pleted his toilet, he took his hat and entered the street. Ranuzi had
now assumed a careless, indifferent expression ; he greeted the
acquaintances who met him with a friendly smile, uttering to each
a few kindly words or gay jests. He reached, at last, a small and
insignificant house in the Frederick Street, opened the door which
was only slightly closed, and entered the hall ; at the same moment
a side door opened, and a lady sprang forward, with extended arms,
to meet the count.
" Oh, my angel, " said she, in that soft Italian tongue, so well
suited to clothe love's trembling sighs in words "oh, my angel, are
you here at last? I saw your noble, handsome face, from my win-
dow ; it seemed to me that my room was illuminated with glorious
sunshine, and my heart and soul were warmed."
Ranuzi made no answer to these glowing words, silently he
suffered himself to be led forward by the lady, then replied to her
ardent assurances by a few cool, friendly words.
"You are alone to-day, Marietta," said he, "and your husband
will not interrupt our conversation. "
"My husband!" said she, reproachfully, "Taliazuchi is not my
husband. I despise him ; I know nothing of him ; I am even willing
that he should know I adore you. "
" Oh woman, woman !" said Ranuzi, laughing ; " how treacher-
ous, how dangerous you are ! When you love happily, you are like
the anaconda, whose poisonous bite one need not fear, when it is
well fed and tended ; but when you have ceased to love, you are like
the tigress who, rashly awaked from sleep, would strangle the un-
fortunate who disturbed her repose. Come, my anaconda, come ;
if you are satisfied with my love, let us talk and dream. " He drew
19
282 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
her tenderly toward him, and, kissing her fondly, seated her by his
side ; but Marietta glided softly to his feet.
" Let it be so, " she said ; " let me lie at your feet ; let me adore
you, and read in your face the history of these last three terrible
days, in which I have not seen you. Where were you, Carlo ? why
have you forgotten me ?"
"Ah," said he, laughing, "my anaconda begins to hunger for my
heart's blood! how long before she will be ready to devour or to
murder me?"
" Do not call me your anaconda, " she said, shaking her head ;
" you say that, when we are satisfied with your love, we are like the
sleeping anaconda. But, Carlo, when I look upon you, I thirst for
your glances, your sweet words, your assurances of love. And has
it not been thus all my life long? Have I not loved you since I was
capable of thought and feeling ? Oh, do you remember our happy,
glorious childhood, Carlo? those days of sunshine, of fragrance, of
flowers, of childish innocence? Do you remember how often we
have wandered hand in hand through the Campagna, talking of
God, of the stars, and of the flowers? dreaming of the time in
which the angels and the stars would float down into our hearts, and
change the world into a paradise for us?"
" Ah ! we had a bitter awaking from these fair dreams, " said
Ranuzi, thoughtfully. "My father placed me in a Jesuit college ;
your mother sent you to a cloister, that the nuns might make of you
a public singer. We had both our own career to make, Marietta ;
you upon the stage, I on the confessor's stool. We were the poor
children of poor parents, and every path was closed to us but one,
the church and the stage ; our wise parents knew this."
" And they separated us, " sighed Marietta ; " they crushed out the
first modest flame of our young, pure hearts, and made us an exam-
ple of their greed ! Ah, Carlo ; you can never know how much I
suffered, how bitterly I wept on your account. I was only twelve
years old, but I loved you with all the strength and ardor of a
woman, and longed after you as after a lost paradise. The nuns
taught me to sing ; and when my clear, rich voice pealed through
the church halls, no one knew that not God's image, but yours, was
in my heart ; that I was worshipping you with my hymns of praise
and pious fervor. I knew that we were forever separated, could
never belong to each other, so I prayed to God to lend swift wings
to time, that we might become independent and free, I as a singer
and you as my honored confessor. "
Ranuzi laughed merrily. " But fate was unpropitious, " said he.
" The pious fathers discovered that I had too little eloquence to make
a good priest ; in short, that I was better fitted to serve holy mother
RANUZI. 283
Church upon the battle-field. When I was a man and sufficiently
learned, they obtained a commission for me as officer in the Pope's
body-guard, and I exchanged the black robe of my order for the
gold-embroidered uniform. "
" And you forgot me, Carlo? you did not let me know where you
were ? Five years after, when I was engaged in Florence as a singer,
I learned what had become of you. I loved you always, Carlo ; but
what hope had I ever to tell you so? we were so far away from each
other, and poverty separated us so widely. I must first become rich,
you must make your career. Only then might we hope to belong to
each other. I waited and was silent. "
"You waited and were silent till you forgot me," said Ranuzi,
playing carelessly with her long, soft curls ; " and, having forgotten
me, you discovered that Signor Taliazuchi was a tolerably pretty
fellow, whom it was quite possible to love."
"Taliazuchi understood how to flatter my vanity," said she,
gloomily ; " he wrote beautiful and glowing poems in my praise,
which were printed and read not only in Florence, but throughout
all Italy. When he declared his love and pleaded for my hand, I
thought, if I refused him, he would persecute me and hate me ; that
mockery and ridicule would take the place of the enthusiastic hymns
in my praise, with which Italy then resounded. I was too ambi-
tious to submit to this, and had not the courage to refuse him, so I
became his wife, and in becoming so, I abhorred him, and I swore
to make him atone for having forced me to become so. "
" But this force consisted only in hymns of praise and favorable
criticisms, " said Ranuzi, quietly.
" I have kept my oath, " said Marietta ; " I have made him atone
for what he has done, and I have often thought that, when afterward
compelled to write poems in my favor, he cursed me in his heart ;
he would gladly have crushed me by his criticisms, but that my
fame was a fountain of gold for him, which he dared not exhaust or
dry up. But my voice had been injured by too much straining, and
a veil soon fell upon it. I could but regard it as great good fortune
when Count Algarotti proposed to me to take the second place as
singer in Berlin ; this promised to be more profitable, as the count
carelessly offered Taliazuchi a place in the opera troupe as writer.
So I left my beautiful Italy ; I left you to amass gold in this cold
north. And now, I no longer repent ; I rejoice ! I have found you
again you, the beloved of my youth you, my youth itself. Oh,
Heaven ! never will I forget the day when I saw you passing. I
knew you in spite of the uniform, in spite of the many years which
had passed since we met. I knew you ; and not my lips only, but
my heart, uttered that loud cry which caused you to look up, my
284 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Carlo. And now you recognized me and stretched your hands out
to me, and I would have sprung to you from the window, had not
Taliazuchi held me back. I cried out, ' It is Ranuzi ! it is Carlo ! I
most, I will fly to him, ' when the door opened and you entered and
I saw you, my own beloved ; I heard your dear voice, and never did
one of God's poor creatures fall into a happier insensibility than I
in that rapturous moment. "
"And Taliazuchi stood by and smiled !" said Ranuzi, laughing ;
" it was truly a pretty scene for an opera writer. He, no doubt,
thought so, and wished to take note of it, as he left the room when
you awaked to consciousness. "
" Since that time, I am only awake when in your presence, " said
Marietta, passionately. " When you are not near me, I sleep. You
are the sun which rouses me to life. When you leave me, it is night
dark night, and dark, gloomy thoughts steal over me. "
" What thoughts, Marietta?" said he, placing his hand under her
chin, and raising her head gently.
She looked up at him with a curious, dreamy smile, but was silent.
"Well, what thoughts have you when I am not with you?" he
repeated.
"I think it possible a day may come in which you will cease to
love me. "
"And you think you will then fly to Taliazuchi for consolation?"
said Ranuzi, laughing.
" No ; I think, or rather I fear that I will revenge myself ; that I
will take vengeance on you for your unfaithfulness. "
"Ah! my tigress threatens!" cried Ranuzi. "Now, Marietta,
you know well that I shall never cease to love you, but a day will
come when we will be forced to separate. "
She sprang up with a wild cry, and clasped him stormily in her
arms.
"No, no!" she cried, trembling and weeping; "no man shall
dare to tear you from me ! We will never be separated !"
" You think, then, that I am not only your prisoner for life, but
also the eternal prisoner of the King of Prussia?"
" No, no ! you shall be free free ! but Marietta will also be free,
and by your side. When you leave Berlin, I go with you ; no power
can bind me here. Taliazuchi will not seek me, if I leave him my
little fortune. I will do that ; I will take nothing with me. Poor,
without fortune or possessions, I will follow you, Ranuzi. I desire
nothing, I hope for nothing, but to be by your side. "
She clasped him in her arms, and did not remark the dark cloud
which shadowed his brow, but this vanished quickly, and his
countenance assumed a kind and clear expression.
RANUZI. 285
"It shall be so, Marietta ! Freedom shall unite us both eternally,
death only shall separate us ! But when may we hope for this great,
this glorious, this beautiful hour ? When will the blessed day dawn
in which I can take your hand and say to you, 'Come, Marietta,
come ; the world belongs to us and our love. Let us fly and enjoy
our happiness. ' Oh, beloved, if you truly love me, help me to
snatch this happy day from fate ! Stand by me with your love, that
I may attain my freedom. "
" Tell me what I can do, and it is done, " said she resolutely ;
" there is nothing I will not undertake and dare for you. "
Ranuzi took her small head in his hands and gazed long and
smilingly into her glowing face.
"Are you sure of yourself?" said he.
" I am sure. Tell me, Carlo, what I must do, and it is done. "
"And if it is dangerous, Marietta?"
" I know but one danger. "
"What is that?"
" To lose your love, Carlo !"
" Then this world has no danger for you, Marietta !"
" Speak, Carlo, speak ! How can I aid you ? What can I do to
obtain your liberty?"
Ranuzi threw a quick and searching glance around the room, as
if to convince himself that they were alone, then bowed down close
to her ear and whispered :
" I can never be free till the King of Prussia is completely con-
quered and subjected, and only if I bring all my strength and capa-
bilities to this object, may I hope to be free, and rich, and honored.
The King of Prussia is my enemy, he is the enemy of the Church,
the enemy of my gracious sovereign of Austria, to whom I have
sworn fealty. A man may strive to conquer his enemies with every
weapon, even with craft. Will you stand by me in this?"
"I will."
"Then observe and listen, and search all around you. Repeat to
me all that you hear and see seem to be an enthusiastic adherent
of the King of Prussia ; you will then be confided in and know all
that is taking place. Be kind and sympathetic to your husband ;
he is a sincere follower of the king, and has free intercourse with
many distinguished persons ; he is also well received at court.
Give yourself the appearance of sympathizing in all his sentiments.
When you attend the concerts at the castle, observe all that passes
every laugh, every glance, every indistinct word, and inform me
of all. Do you understand, Marietta? will you do this?"
"I understand, Carlo, and I will do this. Is this ail? Can I do
nothing mere to help you?"
286 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Yes, there are other things, but they are more difficult, more
dangerous. "
"So much the better ; the more dangerous the stronger the proof
of my love. Speak, dear Carlo !"
" It is forbidden for the captive officers to send sealed letters to
their friends or relatives. All our letters must be read, and if a
word of politics is found in them, they are condemned. All other
persons have the right to send sealed letters in every direction.
Have you not friends to whom you write, Marietta?"
" I have, and from this time onward your friends will be mine,
and I will correspond with them. "
As she said this, with a roguish smile, a ray of joy lighlod up
Ranuzi's eyes.
" You understand me, my beloved ; your intellect is as clear and
sharp as your heart is warm and noble. Think well what you do
what danger threatens you. I tell you plainly, Marietta, this is no
question of common friendly letters, but of the most earnest, grave,
important interests !"
She bowed to his ear and whispered : " All that you espy in Ber-
lin you will confide to these letters ; you will concert with your
friends, you will design plans, perhaps make conspiracies. I will
address these letters and take them to the post, and no one will mis-
trust me, for my letters will be addressed to some friends in Vienna,
or to whom you will. Have I understood you, Carlo? Is this all
right?"
He clasped her rapturously in his arms, and the words of tender
gratitude which he expressed were not entirely wanting in sincerity
and truth.
Marietta was proudly happy, and listened with sparkling eyes to
his honeyed words.
As Ranuzi, however, after this long interview, arose to say fare-
well, she held him back. Laying her hands upon his shoulder, she
looked at him with a curious expression, half laughing, half threat-
ening.
" One last word, Carlo, " she said ; " I love you boundlessly. To
prove my love to you, I become a traitress to this king, who has
been a gracious master to me, whose bread I eat who received and
protects me. To prove my love, I become a spy, an informer. Men
say this is dishonorable work, but for myself I feel proud and happy
to undertake it for you, and not for all the riches and treasures of
this world would I betray you. But, Carlo, if you ever cease to
love me, if you deceive me and become unfaithful, as true as God
helps me, I will betray both myself and you !"
"I believe truly she is capable of it," said Ranuzi, as he reached
LOUISE DU TROUFFLE. 287
the street ; " she is a dangerous woman, and with her love and hate
she is truly like a tigress. Well, I must be on my guard. If she
rages I must draw her teeth, so that she cannot bite, or flee from
her furious leaps. But this danger is in the distance, the principal
thing is that I have opened a way to my correspondence, and that
is immense progress in my plans, for which I might well show my
gratitude to my tender Marietta by a few caresses. "
CHAPTER IV.
LOUISE DU TROUFFLE.
MJLDAME DU TROUFFLE paced her room restlessly ; she listened to
every stroke of the clock, every sound made her tremble.
"He comes not! he comes not!" murmured she; "he received
my irony of yesterday in earnest and is exasperated Alas ! am I
really an old woman ? Have I no longer the power to enchain, to
attract? Can it be that I am old and ugly? No, no! I am but
thirty-four years of age that is not old for a married woman, and
as to being ugly "
She interrupted herself, stepped hastily to the glass, and looked
long and curiously at her face.
Yes, yes ! she must confess her beauty was on the wane. She
was more faded than her age would justify. Already was seen
around her mouth those yellow, treacherous lines which vanished
years imprint upon the face ; already her brow was marked with
light lines, and silver threads glimmered in her hair.
Louise du Trouffle sighed heavily.
" I was too early married, and then unhappily married ; at
eighteen I was a mother. All this ages a woman not the years but
the storms of life have marked these fearful lines in my face. Then
it is not possible for a man to feel any warm interest in me when
he sees a grown-up daughter by my side, who will soon be my rival,
and strive with me for the homage of men. This is indeed exasper-
ating. Oh, my God ! my God ! a day may come in which I may be
jealous of my own daughter ! May Heaven guard me from that !
Grant that I may see her fresh and blooming beauty without rancor ;
that I may think more of her happiness than my vanity."
Then, as if she would strengthen her good resolutions, Louise
left her room and hastened to the chamber of her daughter.
Camilla lay upon the divan her slender and beauteous form was
wrapped in soft white drapery ; her shining, soft dark hair fell
around her rosy face and over her naked shoulders, with whose ala-
288 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
baster whiteness it contrasted strongly. Camilla was reading, and
so entirely was she occupied with her book that she did not hear her
mother enter.
Louise drew softly near the divan, and stood still, lost in admira-
tion at this lovely, enchanting picture, this reposing Hebe.
"Camilla," said she, fondly, "what are you reading so eagerly?"
Camilla started and looked up suddenly, then laughed aloud.
"Ah, mamma, " said she, in a silver, clear, and soft voice, "how
you frightened me ! I thought it was my tyrannical governess
already returned from her walk, and that she had surprised me with
this book. "
" Without doubt she forbade you to read it, " said her mother,
gravely, stretching out her hand for the book, but Camilla drew it
back suddenly.
" Yes, certainly, Madame Brunnen forbade me to read this book ;
but that is no reason, mamma, why you should take it away from
me. It is to be hoped you will not play the stern tyrant against
your poor Camilla. "
"I wish to know what you are reading, Camilla."
"Well, then, Voltaire's 'Pucelle d'Orleans, ' and I assure you,
mamma, I am extremely pleased with it. "
" Madame Brunnen was right to forbid you to read this book,
and I also forbid it. "
"And if I refuse to obey, mamma?"
" I will force you to obedience, " cried her mother, sternly.
"Did any one succeed in forcing you to obey your mother?" said
Camilla, in a transport of rage. " Did your mother give her consent
to your elopement with the garden -boy? You chose your own path
in life, and I will choose mine. I will no longer bear to be treated
as a child I am thirteen years old ; you were not older when you
had the affair with the garden-boy, and were forced to confide your-
self to my father. Why do you wish to treat me as a little child,
and keep me in leading-strings, when I am a grown-up girl?"
" You are no grown-up girl, Camilla, " cried her mother ; " if you
were, you would not dare to speak to your mother as you have done :
you would know that it was unseemly, and that, above all other
things, you should show reverence and obedience to your mother.
No, Camilla, God be thanked ! you are but a foolish child, and
therefore I forgive you. "
Louise drew near her daughter and tried to clasp her tenderly in
her arms, but Camilla struggled roughly against it.
"You shall not call me a child," said she, rudely. "I will no
longer bear it ! it angers me ! and if you repeat it, mamma, I will
declare to every one that I am sixteen years old !"
LOUISE DU TROUFFLE. 289
"And why will you say that, Camilla?"
Camilla looked up with a cunning smile.
" Why ?" she repeated, " ah ! you think I do not know why I must
always remain a child? It is because you wish to remain a young
woman therefore you declare to all the world that I am but twelve
years old ! But no one believes you, mamma, not one believes you.
The world laughs at you, but you do not see it you think you are
younger when you call me a child. I say to you I will not endure
it I I will be a lady I will adorn myself and go into society. I
will not remain in the school-room with a governess while you are
sparkling in the saloon and enchanting your followers by your
beauty. I will also have my worshippers, who pay court to me ; I
will write and receive love-letters as other maidens do ; I will carry
on my own little love-affairs as all other girls do ; as you did, from
the time you were twelve years old, and still do !"
" Silence, Camilla ! or I will make you feel that you are still a
child !" cried Louise, raising her arm threateningly and approach-
ing the divan.
" Would you strike me, mother?" said she, with trembling lips.
" I counsel you not to do it. Raise your hand once more against
me, but think of the consequences. I will run away ! I will fly to
my poor, dear father, whom you, unhappy one, have made a drunk-
ard ! I will remain with him he loves me tenderly. If I were
with him, he would no longer drink. "
" Oh, my God, my God !" cried Louise, with tears gushing from
her eyes ; " it is he who has planted this hate in her heart he has
been the cause of all my wretchedness ! She loves her father who
has done nothing for her, and she hates her mother who has shown
her nothing but love. " With a loud cry of agony, she clasped her
hands over her face and wept bitterly.
Camilla drew close to her, grasped her hands and pulled them
forcibly from her face, then looked in her eyes passionately and
scornfully. Camilla was indeed no longer a child. She stood erect,
pale, and fiercely excited, opposite to her mother. Understanding
and intellect flashed from her dark eyes. There were lines around
her mouth which betrayed a passion and a power with which child-
hood has nothing to do.
" You say you have shown me nothing but love, " said Camilla,
in a cold and cutting tone. " Mother, what love have you shown
me? You made my father wretched, and my childish years were
spent under the curse of a most unhappy marriage. I have seen my
father weep while you were laughing merrily I have seen him
drunk and lying like a beast at my feet, while you were in our gay
saloon receiving and entertaining guests with cool unconcern. You
290 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
say you have shown me nothing but love. You never loved me,
mother, never ! Had you loved me, you would have taken pity with
my future you would not have given me a step-father while I had
a poor, deal- father, who had nothing in the wide world but me, me
alone ! You think perhaps, mother, that I am not unhappy ; while
I am giddy and play foolish pranks, you believe me to be happy and
contented. Ah, mother, I have an inward horror and prophetic
fear of the future which never leaves me ; it seems to me that evil
spirits surround me as if they enchanted me with strange, alluring
songs. I know they will work my destruction, but I cannot with-
stand them I must listen, I must succumb to them. I would gladly
be different be better. I desire to be a virtuous and modest girl,
but alas, alas, I cannot escape from this magic circle to which my
mother has condemned me ! I have lived too fast, experienced too
much I am no longer a child I am an experienced woman. The
world and the things of the world call me with a thousand alluring
voices, and I shall be lost as my mother was lost ! I am her most
unhappy daughter, and her blood is in my heart !" Almost insensi-
ble, crushed by excitement and passion, Camilla sank to the earth.
Her mother looked at her with cold and tearless eyes ; her hair
seemed to stand erect, and a cold, dead hand seemed placed upon
her heart and almost stilled its beatings. " I have deserved this, "
murmured she ; " God punishes the levity of my youth through my
own child. " She bowed down to her daughter and raised her softly
in her arms.
" Come, my child, " she said, tenderly, " we will forget this hour
we will strive to live in love and harmony with each other. You
are right ! You are no longer a child, and I will think of introduc-
ing you to the world. "
i'And you will dismiss Madame Brunnen, " said Camilla, gayly.
" Oh, mamma, you have no idea how she tortures and martyrs me
with her Argus-eyes, and watches me day and night. Will you not
dismiss her, mamma, and take no other governess?"
" I will think of it, " said her mother, sadly. But now a servant
entered and announced Count Ranuzi . Madame du Trouffle blushed,
and directed the servant to conduct him to the parlor.
Camilla looked at her roguishly, and said : " If you really think
me a grown-up girl, take me with you to the parlor. "
Madame du Trouffle refused. "You are not properly dressed,
and besides, I have important business with the count. "
Camilla turned her back scornfully, and her mother left the
room ; Camilla returned to the sofa and Madame du Trouffle entered
the saloon. In the levity and frivolity of their hearts they had both
forgotten this sad scene in the drama of a demoralized family life ;
LOUISE DU TROUFFLE. 291
such scenes had been too often repeated to make any lasting im-
pression.
Madame du Trouffle found Count Ranuzi awaiting her. He
came forward with such a joyous greeting, that she was flattered,
and gave him her hand with a gracious smile. She said trium-
phantly to herself that the power of her charms was not subdued,
since the handsome and much admired Ranuzi was surely captivated
by them.
The count had pleaded yesterday for an interview, and he had
done this with so mysterious and melancholy a mien, that the gay
and sportive Louise had called him the Knight of Toggenberg, and
had asked him plaintively if he was coming to die at her feet.
"Possibly," he answered, with grave earnestness "possibly, if
you are cruel enough to refuse the request I prefer. "
These words had occupied the thoughts of this vain coquette
during the whole night ; she was convinced that Ranuzi, ravished
by her beauty, wished to make her a declaration, and she had been
hesitating whether to reject or encourage him. As he advanced so
gracefully and smilingly to meet her, she resolved to encourage him
and make him forget the mockery of yesterday.
Possibly Ranuzi read this in her glance, but he did not regard it ;
he had attained his aim the interview which he desired. " Ma-
dame, " said he, " I come to make honorable amends, and to plead at
your feet for pardon. " He bowed on one knee, and looked up be-
seechingly.
Louise found that his languishing and at the same time glowing
eyes were very beautiful, and she was entirely ready to be gracious,
although she did not know the offence. "Stand up, count, "said
she, "and let us talk reasonably together. What have you done,
and for what must I forgive you?"
"You annihilate me with your magnanimity," sighed Ranuzi.
" You are so truly noble as to have forgotten my boldness of yes-
terday, and you choose to forget that the poor, imprisoned soldier,
intoxicated by your beauty, carried away by your grace and amia-
bility, has dared to love you and to confess it. But I swear to you,
madame, I will never repeat this offence. The graceful mockery
and keen wit with which you punished me yesterday has deeply
moved me, and I assure you, madame, you have had more influence
over me than any prude with her most eloquent sermon on virtue
could have done. I have seen my crime, and never again will my
lips dare to confess what lives and glows in my heart. " He took
her hand and kissed it most respectfully.
Louise was strangely surprised, and it seemed to her not at all
necessary for the count to preserve so inviolable a silence as to his
292 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
love ; but she was obliged to appear pleased, and she did this with
facility and grace.
" I thank you, " she said, gayly, " that you have freed me from a
lover whom, as the wife of Major du Trouffle, I should have been
compelled to banish from my house. Now I dare give a pleasant,
kindly welcome, to Count Ranuzi, and be ready at all times to
serve him gladly. "
Ranuzi looked steadily at her. "Will you truly do this?" said
he, sighing "will you interest yourself for a poor prisoner, who
has no one to hear and sympathize in his sorrows ?"
Louise gave him her hand. "Confide in me, sir count," said
she, with an impulse of her better nature ; " make known your sor-
rows, and be assured that I will take an interest in them. You are
so prudent and reasonable as not to be my lover, and I will be your
friend. Here is my hand I offer you my friendship ; will you
accept it?"
"Will I accept it?" said he, rapturously ; "you offer me life, and
ask if I will accept it !"
Louise smiled softly. She found that Ranuzi declared his friend-
ship in almost as glowing terms as he had confessed his love. "So
then," said she, "you have sorrows that you dare not name?"
" Yes, but they are not my own individual griefs I suffer, but it
is for another. "
"That sounds mysterious. For whom do you suffer?"
"For a poor prisoner, who, far from the world, far from the
haunts of men, languishes in wretchedness and chains whom not
only men but God has forgotten, for He will not even send His min-
ister Death to release him. I cannot, I dare not say more it is not
my secret, and I have sworn to disclose it to but one person. "
" And this person "
"Is the Princess Amelia of Prussia," said Ranuzi.
Louise shrank back, and looked searchingly at the count. "A
sister of the king ! And you say that your secret relates to a poor
prisoner ?"
" I said so. Oh, my noble, magnanimous friend, do not ask me
to say more ; I dare not, but I entreat you to help me. I must speak
with the princess. You are her confidante and friend, you alone
can obtain me an interview. "
"It is impossible ! impossible !" cried Madame du Trouffle, rising
up and pacing the room hastily. Ranuzi followed her with his
eyes, observed every movement, and read in her countenance every
emotion of her soul.
" I will succeed, " said he to himself, and proud triumph swelled
his heart.
THE FORTUNE-TELLER. 293
Louise drew near and stood before him.
" Listen, " said she, gravely ; " it is a daring, a dangerous enter-
prise in which you wish to entangle me doubly dangerous for me,
as the king suspects me, and he would never forgive it if he should
learn that I had dared to act against his commands, and to assist
the Princess Amelia to save an unhappy wretch whom he had irre-
trievably condemned. I know well who this prisoner is, but do not
call his name it is dangerous to speak it, even to think it. I be-
long not to the confidantes of the princess in this matter, and I do
not desire it. Speak no more of the prisoner, but of yourself. You
wish to be presented to the princess. Why not apply to Baron
Pollnitz?"
"I have not gold enough to bribe him ; and, besides that, he is a
babbler, and purchasable. To-morrow he would betray me. "
" You are right ; and he could not obtain you a secret interview.
One of the maids of honor must always be present, and the princess
is surrounded by many spies. But there is a means, and it lies in
my hands. Listen !"
Louise bowed and whispered.
Ranuzi's face sparkled with triumph.
"To-morrow, then," said he, as he withdrew.
" To-morrow, " said Louise, " expect me at the castle gate, and be
punctual. "
CHAPTER V.
THE FORTUNE-TELLER.
THE heavy curtains were drawn down, and a gloomy twilight
reigned in this great, silent room, whose dreary stillness was only
interrupted by the monotonous stroke of the clock, and the deep
sighs and lamentations which came from the sofa in a distant part
of the room. There in the corner, drawn up convulsively and mo-
tionless, lay a female form, her hands clasped over her breast, her
eyes fixed staringly toward heaven, and from time to time uttering
words of grief and scorn and indignation.
She was alone in her anguish ever alone ; she had been alone
for many years ; grief and disappointment had hardened her heart,
and made it insensible to all sorrows but her own. She hated men,
she hated the world, she railed at those who were gay and happy,
she had no pity for those who wept and mourned.
Had she not suffered more? Did she not still suffer? Who had
been merciful, who had pitied her sorrows? Look now at this pool.
294 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
groaning woman ! Do you recognize these fearful features, de-
formed by sickness and grief ; these blood-shot eyes, these thin,
colorless lips, ever convulsively pressed together, as if to suppress a
wild shriek of agony, which are only unclosed to utter cold, harsh
words of scorn and passion? Do you know this woman? Has this
poor, unhappy, deformed being any resemblance to the gay, beauti-
ful, intellectual Princess Amelia, whom we once knew? and yet
this is the Princess Amelia. How have the mighty fallen ! Look
at the transforming power of a few sorrowful years ! The sister of a
mighty hero king, but a poor desolate creature, shunned and avoided
by all ; she knows that men fly from her, and she will have it so ;
she will be alone lonely in the midst of the world, even as he is, in
the midst of his dark and gloomy prison. Amelia calls the whole
world her prison ; she often says to herself that her soul is shut in
behind the iron bars of her body and can never be delivered, that
her heart lies upon the burning gridiron of the base world, and can-
not escape, it is bound there with the same chains which are around
about and hold him in captivity.
But Amelia says this only to herself, she desires no sympathy,
she knows no one will dare to pity her. Destiny placed her high in
rank and alone alone she will remain ; her complaints might per-
haps bring new danger to him she loves, of whom alone she thinks,
for whose sake alone she supports existence, she lives only for him.
Can this be called life? A perpetual hope and yet hopeless a con-
stant watching and listening for one happy moment, which never
comes ! She had not been permitted to live for him, she would not
die without him. So long as he lived he might need her aid, and
might call upon her for help in the hour of extremest need, so she
would not die.
She was not wholly dead, but her youth, her heart, her peace,
her illusions, her hopes were dead ; she was opposed to all that
lived, to the world, to all mankind. In the wide world she loved
but two persons : one, who languished in prison and who sufferer 1
for her sake, Frederick von Trenck ; the other, he who had made
her wretched and who had the power to liberate Trenck and restore
their peace the king. Amelia had loved her mother, but she was
dead ; grief at the lost battle of Collin killed her. She had loved
her sister, the Margravine of Baireuth ; but she died of despair
at the lost battle of Hochkirch. Grief and the anger and contempt
of the king had killed her brother, the Prince Augustus William of
Prussia. She was therefore alone, alone ! Her other sisters were
far away ; they were happy, and with the happy she had nothing to
do ; with them she had no sympathy. Her two brothers were in
the field, they thought not of her. There was but one who remem>
THE FORTUNE-TELLER. 295
bered her, and he was under the earth not dead, but buried buried
alive. The blackness of thick darkness is round about him, but he
is not blind ; there is glorious sunshine, but he sees it not.
These fearful thoughts had crushed Amelia's youth, her mind,
her life ; she stood like a desolate ruin under the wreck of the past.
The rude storms of life whistled over her, and she laughed them to
scorn ; she had no more to fear not she ; if an oak fell, if a fair
flower was crushed, her heart was glad ; her own wretchedness had
made her envious and malicious ; perhaps she concealed her sym-
pathy, under this seeming harshness ; perhaps she gave herself the
appearance of proud reserve, knowing that she was feared and
avoided. Whoever drew near her was observed and suspected ; the
spies of the king surrounded her and kept her friends, if she had
friends, far off. Perhaps Amelia would have been less unhappy if
she had fled for shelter to Him who is the refuge of all hearts ; if
she had turned to her God in her anguish and despair. But she was
not a pious believer, like the noble and patient Elizabeth Christine,
the disdained wife of Frederick the Great.
Princess Amelia was the true sister of the king, the pupil of
Voltaire ; she mocked at the church and scorned the consolations of
religion. She also was forced to pay some tribute to her sex ; she
failed in the strong, self-confident, intellectual independence of
Frederick ; her poor, weak, trembling hands wandered around seek-
ing support ; as religion, in its mighty mission, was rejected, she
turned for consolation to superstition. While Elizabeth Christine
prayed, Amelia tried her fortune with cards ; while the queen
gathered around her ministers of the gospel and pious scholars, the
princess called to the prophets and fortune-tellers. While Eliza-
beth found comfort in reading the Holy Scriptures, Amelia found
consolation in the mystical and enigmatical words of her sooth-
sayers. While the queen translated sermons and pious hymns into
French, Amelia wrote down carefully all the prophecies of her
cards, her coffee-grounds, and the stars, and both ladies sent their
manuscripts to the king.
Frederick received them both with a kindly and pitiful smile.
The pious manuscript of the queen was laid aside unread, but the
oracles of the princess were carefully looked over. Perhaps this was
done in pity for the poor, wounded spirit which found distraction
in such child's play. It is certain that when the king wrote to the
princess, he thanked her for her manuscripts, and asked her to con-
tinue to send them.* But he also demanded perfect silence as to
this strange correspondence ; he feared his enemies might falsely
interpret his consideration for the weakness of the princess ; they
* Thi6bault, p. 279.
296 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
might suppose that he needed these prophecies to lead him on to
victory, as his adversaries needed the consecrated sword.
This was one of the days on wnich the princess was accustomed
to receive her fortune-teller ; she had been very angry when told
that she was under arrest ; neither the prophet nor the fortune-teller
were at liberty, and the princess was not able to obtain their release.
She would, therefore, have been compelled to forego her usual occu-
pation for the evening, had not Madame du Trouffle come to her
aid. Louise had written that morning to the princess, and asked
permission to introduce a new soothsayer, whose prophecies aston.
ished the world, as, so far, they had been literally fulfilled. Amelia
received this proposition joyfully, and now waited impatiently for
Madame du Trouffle and the soothsayer ; but she was yet alone, it
was not necessary to hide her grief in stoical indifference, to still
the groans of agony which, like the last sighs from a death-bed,
rang from her breast.
The princess suffered not only from mental anguish ; her body
was as sick as her soul. The worm gnawing at her heart was also
devouring her body ; but neither for body nor soul would she accept
a physician, she refused all sympathy for intellectual and physical
pain. Amelia suffered and was silent, and only when as now she
was certain there was no eye to see, no ear to hear her complaints,
did she give utterance to them. And now the maid entered and
announced Madame du Trouffle and the prophet.
" Let them enter, " said the princess in a hollow, death-like voice ;
" let them enter, and remain yourself, Fraulein Lethow ; the sooth-
sayer shall tell your fortune. "
The door opened, and Madame du Trouffle entered. She was gay
and lovely as ever, and drew near the princess with a charming
smile. Amelia returned her salutation coldly and carelessly.
"How many hours have you spent at your toilet to-day?" said
she, roughly ; " and where do you buy the rouge with which you
have painted your cheeks?"
"Ah, your royal highness, " said Louise, smiling, "Nature has
been kind to me, and has painted my cheeks with her own sweet
and cunning hand. "
" Then Nature is in covenant with you, and helps you to deceive
yourself to imagine that you are yet young. I am told that your
daughter is grown up and wondrously beautiful, and that only when
you stand near her is it seen how old and ugly you are. "
Louise knew the rancor of the unhappy princess, and she knew
no one could approach her without being wounded that the undy
ing worm in her soul was only satisfied with the blood it caused to
flow. The harsh words of the princess had no sting for her. " If I
THE FORTUNE-TELLER. 297
were truly old, " said she, " I would live in my daughter : she is said
to be my image, and when she is praised, I feel myself flattered."
" A day will come when she will be blamed and you will also
be reproached, " murmured Amelia. After a pause she said : " So
you have brought me another deceiver who declares himself a
prophet?"
" I do not believe him to be an impostor, your highness. He has
given me convincing proofs of his inspiration. "
" What sort of proofs ? How can these people who prophesy of
the future prove that they are inspired ?"
" He has not told me of the future, but of the past, " said Louise.
" Has he had the courage to recall any portion of your past to
you?" said the princess, with a coarse laugh.
" Many droll and merry portions, your highness, and it is to be
regretted that they were all true," she said, with comic pathos.
"Bring in this soothsayer, Fraulein von Lethow. He shall
prophesy of you : I think you have not, like Madame du Trouffle,
any reason to fear a picture of your past. "
The prophet entered. He was wrapped in a long black robe,
which was gathered around his slender form by a black leathern
girdle covered with curious and strange figures and emblems ; raven
black hair fell around his small, pale face ; his eyes burned with
clouded fire, and flashed quickly around the room. With head erect
and proud bearing, he drew near the princess, and only when very
near did he salute her, and in a sweet, soft, melodious voice, asked
why she wished to see him.
" If you are truly a prophet, you will know my reasons. "
"Would you learn of the past?" said he, solemnly.
"And why not first of the future?"
" Because your highness distrusts me and would prove me. Will
you permit me to take my cards? If you allow it, I will first proph-
esy to this lady." He took a mass of soiled, curiously painted
cards, and spread them out before him on the table. He took the
hand of Fraulein Lethow and seemed to read it earnestly ; and now,
in a low, musical voice, he related little incidents of the past.
They were piquant little anecdotes which had been secretly whis-
pered at the court, but which no one dared to speak aloud, as Frau-
lein Lethow passed for a model of virtue and piety.
She received these developments of the prophet with visible
Bcorn. In place of laughing, and by smiling indifference bringing
their truth in question, she was excited and angry, and thus pre-
pared for the princess some gay and happy moments.
" I dare not decide, " said Amelia, as the prophet ceased, " whether
what you have told is true or false. Fraulein Lethow alone can
20
298 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
know that ; but she will not be so cruel as to call you an impostor,
for that would prevent me from having my fortune told. Allow
me, therefore, to believe that you have spoken the truth. Now take
your cards and shuffle them. "
"Does your highness wish that I should tell you of the past?"
said the soothsayer, in a sharp voice.
The princess h-_ Stated. " Yes, " said she, " of my past. But nc ;
I will first hear a little chapter out of the life of my chaste and
modest Louise. Now, now, madame, you have nothing to fear ;
you are pure and innocent, and this little recitation of your by-gone
days will seem to us a chapter from 'La Pucelle d'Orleans. '"
" I dare to oppose myself to this locture, " said Louise, laughing.
" There are books which should only be read in solitude, and to that
class belong the volumes of my past life. I am ready in the presence
of your highness to have my future prophesied, but of my past I
will hear nothing I know too much already. "
"Had I been alone with Fraulein Lethow, I should have told her
many other things, and she would have been forced to believe in my
power. Only when these cards are under your eyes is my spirit
clear. "
" I must, then, in order to know the whole truth from you, be
entirely alone?" said the princess.
The prophet bowed silently. Amelia fixed a piercing glance
upon him, and nodded to her ladies.
" Go into the next room, " said she. " And now, " said the prin-
cess, " you can begin. "
The magician, instead of taking the cards, knelt before the prin-
cess and kissed the hem of her robe. " I pray for mercy and for-
giveness, " said he ; "I am nothing but a poor impostor ! In order
to reach the presence of your royal highness, I have disguised myself
under this mask, which alone made it possible. But I swear to you,
princess, no one knows of this attempt, no one can ever know it I
alone am guilty. Pardon, then, princess pardon for this bold act.
I was forced to this step forced to clasp your knees to implore
you in your greatness and magnanimity, to stand by me ! I was
impelled irresistibly, for I had sworn a fearful oath to do this
thing."
"To whom have you sworn?" said the princess, sternly. "Who
are you? what do you ask of me?"
" I am Count Ranuzi, Austrian captain and prisoner of war. I
implore you, noble princess, to have mercy upon a poor, helpless
prisoner, consumed with grief and despair. God and the world
have forsaken him, but he has one protecting angel in whom he
trusts, to whom he prays and her name is Amelia ! He is bound
THE FORTUNE-TELLER. 299
in chains like a wild beast a hard stone is his couch, and a vault
beneath is his grave he is living and buried his heart lives and
heaves and calls to you, princess, for rescue. "
The Princess Amelia shrank back trembling and groaning on the
sofa ; her eyes were wide open, and staring in the distance. After
a long pause, she said, slowly : " Call his name. "
" Frederick von Trenck !"
Amelia shuddered, and uttered a low cry. " Trenck !" repeated
she, softly ; " oh, what sad melody lies in that word ! It is like the
death-cry of my youth. I think the very air must weep when this
name vibrates upon it. Trenck, Trenck 1 How beautiful, how
lovely that sounds ; it is a sweet, harmonious song ; it sings to me
softly of the only happiness of my life. Ah, how long, how long
since this song was silenced ! All within me is desolate ! On every
side my heart is torn on every side 1 Oh, so drear, so fearful !
All I all !" Lost in her own thoughts, these words had been slowly
uttered. She had forgotten that she was not alone with her remem-
brances, which like a cloud had gathered round about her and shut
off the outward world.
Ranuzi did not dare to recall her thoughts he still knelt at her
feet.
Suddenly her whole frame trembled, and she sprang up. " My
God I I dream, while he calls me ! I am idly musing, and Trenck
has need of me. Speak, sir, speak! What do you know of him?
Have you seen him ? Did he send you to me?"
" He sent me, your highness, but I have not seen him. Have the
grace to listen to me. Ah, your highness, in what I now say I lay
the safety of a dear and valued friend, yes, his life, at your feet.
One word from you, and he will be delivered over to a court-martial
and be shot. But you will not speak that word you are an angel
of mercy. "
" Speak, sir speak, sir, " said Amelia, breathlessly. " My God !
do you not see that I am dying from agitation?"
"Princess, Trenck lives he is in chains he is in a hole under
the earth but he lives, and as long as he has life, he hopes in you
has wild dreams of liberty, and his friends think and hope with
him. Trenck has friends who are ready to offer up their lives for
him. One of them is in the fortress of Magdeburg he is lieutenant
of the guard ; another is a Captain Kimsky, prisoner of war ; I am
a third. I have known Trenck since my youth. In our beautiful
days of mirth and revelry, we swore to stand by each other in every
danger. The moment has come to fulfil my oath Trenck is a pris-
oner, and I must help to liberate him. Our numbers are few and
dismembered we need allies in the fortress, and still more in the
300 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
city. We need powerful assistance, and no one but your highness
can obtain it for us. "
" I have an assured and confidential friend in Magdeburg, " said
the princess ; " at a hint from me he will be ready to stand by you
to"
Suddenly she was silent, and cast a searching, threatening glance
at Ranuzi. She had been too often deceived and circumvented
snares had been too often laid at her feet she was distrustful. " No,
no, " said she, at last, sternly, rudely " I will take no part in this
folly. Go, sir go. You are a poor soothsayer, and I will have
nothing to do with you. "
Ranuzi smiled, and drew a folded paper from his bosom, which
he handed to the princess. It contained these words : " Count Ranuzi
is an honest man he can be trusted unconditionally. " Under these
words was written : " Nel tue giorni f elici, vicordati da me. "
The breast of Amelia heaved convulsively she gazed at these
written characters ; at last her eyes filled with tears at last her
heart was overcome by those painful and passionate feelings which
she had so long kept in bondage. She pressed the paper, the lines on
which were written with his blood, to her lips, and hot tears gushed
from those poor eyes which for long, long years, had lost the power
to weep.
" Now, sir, " said she, " I believe in you, I trust you. Tell me
what I have to do. "
" Three things fail us, princess : A house in Magdeburg, where
Trenck's friends can meet at all hours, and make all necessary prepa-
rations, and where he can be concealed after his escape. Secondly,
a few reliable and confiding friends, who will unite with us and
aid us. Thirdly, we must have gold we must bribe the guard, we
must buy horses, we must buy friends in the fortress, and lastly, we
must buy French clothing. Besides this, I must have permission
to go for a few days to Magdeburg, and there on the spot I can better
make the final preparations. A fair pretext shall not fail me for
this ; Captain Kimsky is my near relative he will be taken sud-
denly ill, and as a dying request he will beg to see me ; one of his
comrades will bring me notice of this, and I will turn imploringly
to your highness."
"I will obtain you a passport, " said Amelia, decisively.
"While in Magdeburg, the flight will be arranged. "
" And you believe you will succeed?" said the princess, with a
bright smile, which illuminated her poor deformed visage with a
golden ray of hope.
" I do not only believe it, I know it ; that is, if your royal high-
ness will assist us. "
THE FORTUNE-TELLER. 301
The princess made no reply ; she stepped to her desk and took
from it several rolls of gold, then seated herself and wrote with a
swift hand : " You must trust the bearer fully, he is my friend ;
assist him in all that he undertakes." She folded the paper and
sealed it.
Ranuzi followed every movement with flashing eyes and loudly
beating heart. As she took the pen to write the address a ray of
wild triumph lighted his dark face, and a proud smile played about
his mouth. As Amelia turned, all this disappeared, and he was
dignified and grave as" before.
" Take this, sir, " said she ; " you see that I place in your power
a faithful and beloved friend, he is lost if you are false. As soon
as you reach Magdeburg go to him, and he will make other friends
and allies known to you. "
" Can I make use of this address, and write under it to my friend
Kimsky?" said Ranuzi.
"Yes, without danger. To-day I will find means to inform him
that he may expect this letter. Here is gold, two hundred ducats,
all that I have at present. When this is exhausted, turn again to
me and I will again supply you. "
Ranuzi took the gold and said, smilingly, "This is the magio
means by which we will break his chains. "
Amelia took a costly diamond pin, which lay upon the table, and
gave it to Ranuzi. She pointed to the paper marked with blood,
which she still held in her hand.
" This is a most precious jewel which you have given me let us
exchange. "
Rauuzi fell upon his knees and kissed her hand as he took the pin.
"And now, sir, go. My maid is a salaried spy, and a longer in-
terview would make you suspected. You would be watched, and
all discovered. Go ! If I believed in the power of prayer, I would
lie upon my knees night and day, and pray for God's blessing upon
your effort. As it is, I can only follow you with my thoughts and
hopes. Farewell 1"
"Your royal highness sends no reply to these lines, written with
Trenck's heart's blood?"
Amelia took the pen and wrote a few hasty lines upon the paper,
which she handed Ranuzi. The words were: "Ovunque tu sei
vicina ti sono. "
"Give him that," said she; "it is not written with my heart's
blood, but my heart bleeds for him bleeds ever inwardly. And now
resume your role of soothsayer I must call my ladies. "
The afternoon of this day Ranuzi wrote to his friend, Captain
Kimsky, prisoner of war at Magdeburg :
302 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"The train is laid, and will succeed. The fortress will soon be
in our hands. A romantic, sentimental woman's heart is a good
thing, easily moved to intrigues. Magdeburg will be ours ! Pre-
pare everything be ill, and call for me ; I shall get a passport. I
have a powerful protectress, and with such, you know, a man may
attain all the desires of his heart !"
CHAPTER VI.
A COURT DAY IN BERLIN.
IT was the birthday of Prince Henry, and was to be celebrated
with great pomp at the court. The king had himself written ex-
plicitly on this subject to the master of ceremonies, Baron Pollnitz.
Pollnitz was, therefore, actively occupied in the early morning,
and no general ever made his preparations for a battle with more
earnestness and importance than the good baron gave his orders for
the splendid fete which was to be given in the royal apartments
that night.
And this was indeed a great opportunity. The people of Berlin
were to enjoy a ball and a concert, at which all the Italian singers
were to be present ; and then a rare and costly supper, to which not
only the court, but all the officers who were prisoners of war were
to be invited.
This supper was to Pollnitz the great circumstance, the middle
point of ihefete. Such an entertainment was now rare at the court
of Berlin, and many months might pass away ere the queen would
think of giving another supper. Pollnitz knew that when he
thirsted now for a luxurious meal he must enjoy it at his own cost,
and this thought made him shudder. The worthy baron was at the
same time a spendthrift and a miser.
Four times inevery year he had three or four days of rare and rich
enjoyment ; he lived en grand seigneur, and prepared for himself
every earthly luxury ; these were the first three or four days of every
quarter in which he received his salary. With a lavish hand he
scattered all the gold which he could keep back from his greedy
creditors, and felt himself young, rich, and happy. After these
fleeting days of proud glory came months of sad economy ; he was
obliged to play the role of a parasitical plant, attach himself to some
firm, well-rooted stem, and absorb its strength and muscle. In
these days of restraint he watched like a pirate all those who were
in the condition to keep a good table, and so soon as he learned that
a dinner was on hand, he knew how to conquer a place. At these
A COURT DAY IN BERLIN. 303
times he was also a passionate devotee of the card -table, and it was
the greatest proof of his versatility and dexterity that he always
succeeded in making up his party, though every man knew it cost
gold to play cards with Pollnitz. The grand-master had the exalted
principles of Louis XV. of France, who was also devoted to cards.
Every evening the great Louis set apart a thousand louis d'or to
win or lose. If the king won, the gold went into his private pocket ;
if he lost, the state treasury suffered.
Following this royal example, Pollnitz placed the gold he won in
his pocket ; if he lost, he borrowed the money to pay he considered
this borrowed sum as also the clear profit of his game ; he was
assured to win, and in this way he obtained his pocket money.
To-day, however, he would not be merry at a strange table ; he
himself would do the honors, and he had conducted the arrange-
ments of the table with a scholarship and knowledge of details
which would have obtained the admiration of the Dukede Richelieu.
On this occasion it was not necessary to restrain his luxurious
desires and tastes. Honor demanded that the court should show
itself in full pomp and splendor, and prove to the world that this
long, wearisome war had not exhausted the royal treasury, nor the
royal table service of silver ; in short, that it was an easy thing to
carry on the war, without resorting to the private treasures of the
royal house.
It was, therefore, necessary to bring out for this great occasion
the golden service which had been the king's inheritance from his
mother. Frederick's portion had been lately increased by the death
of the Margravine of Baireuth, who had explicitly willed her part
to her brother Frederick.*
The queen and the princesses were to appear in all the splendor
of their jewels, and by their costly and exquisite toilets impose upon
these proud and haughty officers, whom fate had sent as prisoners
of war to Berlin, and who would not fail to inform their respective
governments of all they saw in the capital.
This fete was a demonstration made by the king to his over-con-
fident enemies. He would prove to them that if he wished for peace
it was not because the gold failed to carry on the war, but because
he wished to give rest and the opportunity to recover to Europe,
groaning and bleeding from a thousand wounds. Besides this, the
king wished to show his subjects, by the celebration of his brother's
birthday, how highly he honored the prince how gladly he em-
* When the court fled, after the battle of Kttnendorf, to Magdeburg, they took
the golden service which the king inherited from his mother with them ; that portion
given to Frederick by the margravine was left in Berlin, and the next year, 1760, was
seized by the Russians and carried to Petersburg. "Geschichte Berlins, 11 vol. v., p. 2.
304 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
braced the opportunity to distinguish the young general who, dur-
ing the whole war, had not lost a single battle ; but, by his bold and
masterly movements, had come to the king's help in the most diffi-
cult and dangerous moments.
This celebration should be a refutation of the rumors spread
abroad by the king's enemies, that Frederick regarded the success
and military talent of his brother with jealous envy.
There were, therefore, many reasons why Pollnitz should make
this a luxurious and dazzling feast ; he knew also that Prince Henry
would receive a detailed account of the celebration from his adju-
tant, Count Kalkreuth, who had lingered some months in Berlin
because of his wounds, was now fully restored, and would leave
Berlin the morning after the ball to return to the army.
And now the important hour had arrived. Pollnitz wandered
through the saloons with the searching glance of a warrior on the
field of battle ; he pronounced that all was good.
The saloons were dazzling Avith light ; pomp and splendor reigned
throughout, and on entering the supper-room you were almost
blinded by the array of gold and silver adorning the costly buffet, on
whose glittering surface the lights were a thousand times reflected.
Suddenly the rooms began to fill ; everywhere gold-embroidered
uniforms, orders, stars, and flashing gems were to be seen ; a pro-
miscuous and strange crowd was moving through these lofty saloons,
illuminated by thousands of lights and odorous with the fragrance
of flowers.
Side by side with the rich, fantastic uniform of the Russian, was
seen the light and active French chasseur ; here was to be seen the
Hungarian hussar, whose variegated and tasteful costume contrasted
curiously with the dark and simple uniform of the Spaniard, who
stood near him, both conversing gayly with an Italian, dressed in
the white coat of an Austrian officer.
It seemed as if every nation in Europe had arranged a rendezvous
for this day in the royal palace at Berlin, or as if the great Frederick
had sent specimens to his people of all the various nations against
whom he had undertaken this gigantic war.
There were not only Germans from all the provinces, but Italians,
Spaniards, Russians, Swedes, Hungarians, Netherlanders, and
Frenchmen. All these were prisoners of war their swords had
been stained with the blood of Prussians ; the fate of war now con-
fined them to the scabbard, and changed the enemies of the king
into guests at his court.
Hundreds of captive officers were now waiting in the saloon for
the appearance of the queen, but the Prussian army was scarcely
represented. All who were fit for service were in the field, only
A COURT DAY IN BERLIN. 305
/
the invalids and the old warriors, too infirm for active duty had
remained at the capital ; even the youths who had not attained the
legal age for military duty, had hastened to the army, full of cour-
age and enthusiasm, inspired by the example of their fathers and
brothers.
The dazzling appearance of these royal saloons was therefore
mostly owing to the flashing uniforms of the prisoners of war.
Only a few old Prussian generals, and the courtiers, whose duties
prevented them from being heroes, were added to the number.
Herr von Giurgenow, and his friend Captain Belleville, were in-
vited to the ball, and were well pleased to offer their homage to the
majesty of Prussia. Count Ranuzi, who, reserved and silent as
usual, had been wandering through the saloons, now joined them,
and they had all withdrawn to a window, in order to observe quietly
and undisturbed the gay crowd passing before them.
"Look you," said Ranuzi, laughing, "this reminds me of the
frantic confusion in the anterooms of hell, which Dante has de-
scribed in such masterly style. We all wear our glittering masks,
under which our corpses are hidden ; one word from our master and
this drapery would fall off, and these grinning death-heads be
brought to ruin. It depends solely upon the will of Frederick of
Prussia to speak this word. He is our master, and when he com-
mands it, we must lay aside our swords and exchange our uniforms
for the garments of a malefactor. "
"He will not dare to do this," said Giurgenow; "all Europe
would call him a barbarian, and make him answerable for his in-
solence. "
" First, all Europe must be in a condition to call him to account, "
said Ranuzi, laughing; "and that is certainly not the case at
present, I am sorry to say. "
"You have not heard, then," said Belleville, "of the glorious
victory which our great General Broglie has gained over Duke
Ferdinand of Brunswick ; all France is jubilant over this happy
event, and the Marquice de Pompadour, or rather King Louis, has
made this second Turenne, our noble Broglie, marshal. "
" I know of this, " said Ranuzi ; " but I know also that the fortune
of battles is inconstant, otherwise we would not now be here. "
" It is to be hoped we will not be here long, " said Giurgenow,
impatiently. "Does it not lie in our power to go at once? What
think you? Have we not our swords? They have not dared to take
them from us ! They tremble before us, and honor, in our persons,
the nations we represent. Look at the complaisance and considera-
tion with which we are met on all sides. The King of Prussia fears
his powerful enemies, and does all in his power to conciliate them.
306 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Suppose that to-night, as soon as the royal family are assembled, we
draw our swords and take them all prisoners ; we have overpowering
numbers, and I think it would be an easy victory. We could make
a fortress of this palace, and defend ourselves ; they would not dare
to make a violent attack, as the queen and princesses would be in
our power. What think you of this plan, Count Ranuzi?"
Ranuzi met the sharp and piercing glance of the Russian with
cool composure.
"I think it bold, but impossible. We could not maintain our
position, one hour. The garrison of Berlin would overcome us.
We have no thousands of prisoners in the casements here, as in
Kiistrin, to aid us in such an attempt. "
" The count is right, " said Belleville, gayly ; " such a grandiose
and warlike conspiracy would amount to nothing. We must re-
venge ourselves in another way for the tedious ennui we are made
to endure here, and my friends and myself are resolved to do so.
We will no longer submit to the shackles of etiquette, which are
laid upon us ; we will be free from the wearisome constraint which
hems us in on every side. These proud ladies wish us to believe
that they are modest and virtuous, because they are stiff and cere-
monious. They make a grimace at every equivoque. We will prove
to them that we are not blinded by this outward seeming, and not
disposed to lie like Dutchmen, languishing at the feet of our inex-
orable fair ones. Our brave brothers have conquered the Prussians
at Hochkirch and at Bergen ; we cannot stand side by side with
them in the field, but here, at least, we can humble the Prussian
women !"
" I can well believe, " whispered Giurgenow, " that you would be
pleased to humble the beautiful Fraulein von Marshal?"
"Ah, my friend, " said Ranuzi, laughing, "you touch the wound
of our poor friend. You do not seem to know that the beautiful
Marshal is responsible for the scorn and rage of Count Belleville.
She is indeed a haughty and presumptuous beauty ; she not only
dared to reject the love of the fascinating count, but she showed
him the door ; and when afterward he ventured to send her a pas-
sionate and tender billet-doux, she informed him, through her
servant, that she would give the letter to her chambermaid, for
whom, without doubt, it was intended. "
"Eh bien, what do you say to this insolence?" cried the enraged
Frenchman. " But she shall do penance for it. I have already made
the necessary arrangements with my friends. This is not simply a
personal affair, it touches the general honor. The whole French
army, all France, is insulted in my person. It is necessary we
should have satisfaction, not only from this presumptuous lady,
A COURT DAY IN BERLIN. 307
but from all the ladies of the court ! We wLl have our revenge this
evening ! We will show to these dull dames what we think of their
prudery. And the queen shall see that we are not at all inclined to
bow down to her stiff ceremonies. She is, in our eyes, not a queen
simply the wife of an enemy over whom we will soon triumph
gloriously. "
"I counsel you, however, to wait till the hour of triumph for
your revenge," said Ranuzi. "Your intentions may lead to the
worst consequences for us all. The great Frederick will never be a
harmless adversary till he is dead, and we would all be ignomini-
ously punished for any contempt shown the queen. You have a
personal affair with Fraulein Marshal ; well, then, you must make
her personally responsible ; but do not involve us all in your diffi-
culties. It would be an easy thing to forfeit even this appearance
of freedom. "
"You are right, " said Giurgenow ; "we might be banished from
Berlin, and that would be a bitter punishment for us all. "
"But look ! the doors are being thrown open, and the queen and
court will appear ; you will have the happiness of seeing your cruel
fair one, " whispered Ranuzi to the Frenchman.
" I assure you she shall repent of her cruelty to-night, " said Belle-
ville, gnashing his teeth. Exchanging a significant glance with
several French officers, who were standing not far off, he advanced
into the saloon to the outer circle, which was formed on both sides,
and through which the queen and court must pass.
Now the grand master of ceremonies appeared on the threshold,
with his golden staff. Behind him the queen and the Princess
Amelia entered the room ; both appeared in all the pomp and splen-
dor of their rank. A small diamond-crown glittered in the blonde
hair of the queen, a magnificent necklace of diamonds and emeralds
was clasped around her dazzlingly white and beautifully formed
throat.
Bielfeld had once declared that this necklace could purchase a
kingdom. A white robe worked with silver and a dark-red velvet
shawl trimmed with ermine fell in graceful folds around the noble
and graceful figure of the queen, whose bowed head, and quiet,
modest bearing contrasted strangely with the luxury and splendor
which surrounded her.
Another striking contrast to the queen was offered in the pres-
ence of the Princess Amelia. Like her royal sister, she appeared in
complete toilet, adorned with all her jewels her arms, her throat,
her hair, and her hands flashed with diamonds. The festoons of
her robe of silver gauze were fastened up with diamond buttons,
and beneath appeared a green robe embroidered with silver. The
308 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
princess knew full well that all this splendor of toilet, all these flash-
ing gems, would bring into contemptuous notice her sharp, angular
figure, and her poor deformed visage ; she knew that the eyes of all
would be fixed upon her in derision, that her appearance alone
would be greetd as a cherished source of amusement, and as soon as
her back was turned the whole court would laugh merrily. She
assumed, as usual, a cold contemptuous bearing ; she met mockery
with mockery, and revenged herself by sharp wit and cutting irony
for the derisive glances which plainly spoke what the lips dared
not utter. She no sooner entered the saloon than she began to greet
her acquaintances ; every word contained a poisonous sting, which
inflicted a grievous wound. When she read in the faces of her vic-
tims that her sharp arrows had entered the quivering flesh, a malicious
fire sparkled in her eyes, and a bitter smile played upon her lips.
Behind the queen and Princess Amelia appeared the Princess
Henry. She was also superbly dressed, but those who looked upon
her thought not of her toilet ; they were refreshed, enraptured by
her adorable beauty by the goodness and purity written on her rosy
cheek. To-day, however, the eyes of the princesses were less clear
and dazzling than usual a gleam of sadness shadowed her fair brow,
and her coral lips trembled lightly as if in pain. Perhaps it was
the remembrance of the beautiful and happy days, past and gone
like a dream, which made the lonely present seem so bitter. Absent-
minded and thoughtful, she stepped forward without looking to the
right or left, regardless of the flashing orders and stars, of the hand-
some officers and courtly circle bowing profoundly before her as she
passed on.
The court had now passed ; the bowed heads were raised, and
now the young French officers cast impertinent, almost challenging
glances, at the ladies of the queen and the princesses, who drew near
and bestowed here and there stolen smiles and light greetings upon
their admirers.
Fraulein Marshal did not seem to be aware that the insolent eyes
of these haughty Frenchmen were fixed upon her. Proudly erect
she advanced ; her large blue eyes were turned toward the princess
she gave neither glance nor smile to any one ; her noble and beauti-
ful countenance had a stern, resolved expression her lips were
pouting, and her usually soft eyes told tales of an angry soul. There
was something Juno-like in her appearance she w r as lovely to be-
hold, but cold and stern in her beauty.
As she passed by Count Belleville, he exclaimed with a sigh to
his neighbor: "Ah, look at this majestic Galatea, this beautiful
marble statue, which can only be awaked to life by kisses. "
Fraulein Marshal trembled slightly ; a crimson blush suffused her
A COURT DAY IN BERLIN. 309
face, her shoulders, and even her back ; but she did not hesitate or
turn. She moved on slowly, though she heard the officers laughing
and whispering though she felt that their presumptuous eyes were
fixed upon her.
The queen and princesses made the grande tournee through the
rooms, and then mingled with the guests ; all formal etiquette was
now laid aside, and a gay and unembarrassed conversation might be
carried on till the beginning of the concert. This seemed to de-
generate, on the part of the French officers, to an indiscreet, fren-
zied levity. They laughed and talked boisterously they walked
arm in arm before the ladies, and remarked upon them so boldly,
that crimson blushes, or frightened pallor, was the result. Even
the queen remarked the strange and unaccountable excitement of
her guests, and to put an end to it, she entered the concert-room
and ordered the music to commence. Even this had no effect. The
royal capello played an overture composed by the king, with mas-
terly precision the singers emulated them in an Italian aria but
all this did not silence the noisy conversation of the Frenchmen.
They laughed and chatted without restraint ; and neither the amazed
glances of the princesses nor the signs of the grand-master of cere-
monies, made the slightest impression upon them.
Suddenly there was a slight pause, and the Princess Amelia rose
up from her seat and beckoned with her fan to Baron Pollnitz.
In a loud and angry voice, she said : "Baron Pollnitz, I insist upon
your forcing these shrieking popinjays of the Marquise de Pompa-
dour to silence. We cannot hear the music for their loud chatter-
ing. The like birds may pass very well in the gallant boudoir of a
certain marquise, but not in a royal palace of Berlin. "
Pollnitz shrank back in alarm, and fixed an imploring look upon
the princess. Amongst the French officers arose an angry murmur,
swelling louder and louder, more and more threatening, and com-
pletely drowning the music which was just recommencing.
The queen bowed down to the princess. " I pray you, sister, "
said she, in a low voice, " remember that we are poor, unprotected
women, and not in a condition to defend ourselves. Let us appear
not to remark this unmannerly conduct, and let us remember that
the king has made it our duty to receive the French officers with
marked attention. "
" You, sister, are simply a slave to the commands of the king.
He is more truly your master than your husband, " said the princess,
angrily.
The queen smiled sweetly. " You are right ; I am his slave, and
my soul has chosen him for its lord. Blame me not, then, for my
obedience. *
310 FREDERICK THE GItEAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Do you intend to allow the arrogant presumption of these
haughty Frenchmen to go unpunished?"
" I will take pains not to observe it, " said the queen, turning her
attention again to the music. During all this time, Count Belle-
ville stood behind Fraulein Marshal. While the concert was going
on, he bowed over her and spoke long and impressively. Fraulein
Marshal did not reply ; neither his ardent love-assurances, nor his
glowing reproaches, nor his passionate entreaties, nor his bold and
offensive insolence, could draw from her one word, one look.
When the concert was over, and they were about to return to the
saloon where, until supper, they could dance and amuse themselves,
the young maiden turned with calm composure and indifference to
Count Belleville. " Sir, I forbid you to molest me with your pres-
ence, and I counsel you no longer to offend my ears with these in-
decent romances, which you have no doubt learned upon the streets
of Paris. But if, believing that I am unprotected, you still dare to
insult me, I Inform you that my father has this moment arrived,
and will certainly relieve me from your disagreeable and trouble-
some society." She spoke aloud, and not only Belleville, but the
group of French officers who stood behind him, heard every word.
She passed by them with calm indifference and joined a large,
elderly officer, who was leaning against a pillar, and who stretched
out his hand smilingly toward her.
" Father, " she said, " God himself put it in your heart to come to
Berlin this day. You are by my side, and I have nothing to fear.
I know you can protect me. "
In the mean time, the musicians commenced to play the grave
and at the same time coquettish minuet, and the officers drew near
the ladies to lead them to the dance. This was done, however, in
so bold and unconstrained a manner, with such manifest noncha-
lance, the request was made with such levity, the words were so
little respectful, that the ladies drew back frightened.
Princess Amelia called Fraulein Marshal to her side. She took
her hand with a kindly smile.
"My child," she said, "I rejoice that you have the courage tc
defy these shameless coxcombs. Go on, and count upon my protec
tion. Why are you not dancing?"
" Because no one has asked me. "
At this moment an officer drew near with diligent haste, appar-
ently to lead her to the dance. While in the act of offering his
hand to her he made a sudden movement, as if he had just recog-
nized the lady, turned his back, and withdrew without a word of
apology.
The princess was enraged. " I promise you they shall be pun-
IN THE WINDOW-NICHE. 311
ished for this presumption." She turned to Baron Marshal, who
stood behind his daughter: "Baron," said she, "if this leads to a
duel, I will be your second !"
CHAPTER VII.
IN THE WINDOW-NICHE.
WHILE these events were occurring in the dancing-room, and the
queen was seated at the card-table, the Princess Wilhelmina, wife
of Prince Henry, stood in the window-niche of the ball-room and
conversed with Count Kalkreuth, the friend and adjutant of her
husband. The count had been sent home amongst the wounded,
but he was now restored and about to return to the camp. They
spoke quickly and impressively together, but the music drowned
their words and made them indistinct to all others. What said
they to each other? Seemingly petty and indifferent things. They
had, perhaps, a deeper, secret meaning, for the countenance of the
princess and that of the count were grave, and the sweet smile had
vanished from the charming face of the princess. They spoke of
unimportant things, perhaps, because they had not the courage for
the great word which must be spoken the word farewell !
" Your royal highness has then no further commission to give me
for the prince?" said the count, after a pause.
" No, " said the princess ; " I wrote to him yesterday by the
courier. Describe the ball to him, and tell him how we are, and
how you left me. "
"I must tell him, then, that your highness is perfectly gay,
entirely happy, and glowing with health and beauty," said the
count. These were simple and suitable words, but they were spoken
in a hard and bitter tone.
The princess fixed her large soft eyes with an almost pleading
expression upon the count ; then with a quick movement she took a
wreath of white roses, which she wore in her bosom, and held them
toward him. "As a proof that I am gay and happy, "said she,
"take these flowers to my husband, and tell him I adorned myself
with them in honor of his fete. "
The 'count pressed his lips convulsively together and looked
angrily upon the princess, but he did not raise his hand to take the
flowers did not appear to see that she held them toward him.
"Well, sir," said the Princess Wilhelmina, "you do not take th
flowers?"
" No, " said he, passionately, " I will not take them. "
312 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The princess looked anxiously around ; she feared some one might
have heard this stormy " No. " She soon convinced herself that there
was no listener nearer than her maid of honor ; Fraulein Marshal
was still near the Princess Amelia, and she was somewhat isolated
by etiquette ; she saw, therefore, that she dared carry on this con-
versation.
"Why will you not take my flowers?" she said, proudly.
The count drew nearer. " I will tell you, princess, " said he " I
will tell you, if this passionate pain now burning in my breast does
not slay me. I will not take your flowers, because I will not be a
messenger of love between you and the prince ; because I cannot
accept the shame and degradation which such an office would lay
upon me. Princess you have forgotten, but I remember there was
a wondrous time in which I, and not the prince, was favored with
a like precious gift. At that time you allowed me to hope that this
glowing, inextinguishable feeling which filled my heart, my soul,
found an echo in your breast ; that at least you would not condemn
me to die unheard, misunderstood. "
" I knew not at that time that my husband loved me, " murmured
the princess ; " I thought I was free and justified in giving that
heart which no one claimed to whom I would."
"You had no sooner learned that the prince loved you than you
turned from me, proud and cold, " said the count, bitterly ; " relent-
lessly, without mercy, without pity, you trampled my heart under
your feet, and not a glance, not a word showed me that you had any
remembrance of the past. I will tell you what I suffered. You
have a cold heart, it will make you happy to hear of my anguish. I
loved you so madly I almost hated you ; in the madness of my pas-
sion I cursed you. I thanked God for the war, which forced me to
that for which I had never found the moral strength to leave you.
Yes, I was grateful when the war called me to the field I hoped to
die. I did not wish to dishonor my name by suicide. I was reck-
lessly brave, because I despised life I rushed madly into the ranks
of the enemy, seeking death at their hands, but God's blessed min-
ister disdained me even as you had done. I was borne alive from
the battle-field and brought to Berlin to be nursed and kindly cared
for. No one knew that here I received daily new and bitter wounds.
You were always cruel, cruel even to the last moment ; you saw my
sufferings, but you were inexorable. Oh, princess, it would have
been better to refuse me entrance, to banish me from your presence,
than to make my heart torpid under the influence of your cold
glance, your polished speech, which ever allured me and yet kept
me at a distance. You have played a cruel game with me, princess,
you mock me to the last. Shall I be your messenger to the prince ?
IN THE WINDOW-NICHE. 313
You know well that I would give my heart's blood for one of those
sweet flowers, and you send them by me to another. My humility,
my subjection is at an end ; you have sinned against me as a woman,
and I have therefore the right to accuse you as a man. I will not
take these flowers ! I will not give them to the prince ! And now
I have finished I beg you to dismiss me. "
The princess had listened tremblingly ; her face became ever
paler completely exhausted, she leaned against the wall.
" Before you go, " whispered she, " listen to a few words ; it may
be that the death you seek may be found on the battle-field this
may be our last interview in this world ; in such a moment we dare
speak the truth to each other ; from the souls which have been
closely veiled, may cloud and darkness be for one moment lifted.
What I now say to you shall go as a sacred secret with you to the
grave, if you fall ; but if God hears my prayer, and you return, I
command you to forget it, never to remind me of it. You say I
have a cold heart. Alas ! I only choked the flame which raged
within, me ; I would have my honor and my duty burned to ashes.
You say that my eyes are never clouded, that they shed no tears.
Ah 1 believe me, I have wept inwardly, and the silent, unseen tears
the heart weeps are bitterer than all others. You reproach me for
having received you when you returned here sick and wounded,
and for not having closed my doors against you. I know well that
was my duty, and a thousand times I have prayed to God on my
knees for strength to do this, but He did not hear me or He had no
mercy. I could not send you off ; had my lips spoken the fearful
words, the shriek of my heart would have called you back. My lips
had strength to refuse an answer to the question which I read in
your face, in your deep dejection, but my heart answered you in
silence and tears. Like you, I could not forget like you I remem-
bered the bounteous sweet past. Now you know all go ! As you
wilJ not take these flowers to the prince, they are yours, were in-
tended for you ; I have baptized them with my tears. Farewell !"
She gave him the flowers, and without looking toward him,
without giving him time to answer, she stepped forward and called
her chamberlain.
" Count Saldow, be kind enough to accompany Count Kalkreuth,
and give him the books and papers my husband has ordered. "
Wilhelmina passed on proudly, calmly, with a smile on her lips,
but no one knew what it cost her poor heart. She did not look back.
Kalkreuth would have given years to take leave once more of the
lovely face, to ask pardon for the hard, rude words he had dared to
say. The princess had still the bashful timidity of virtue ; after the
confession she had made she dared not look upon him. The count
21
314 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
controlled himself ; he followed Saldow. He was bewildered, rap-
turously giddy. As he left the castle and entered his carriage he
looked up at the window and said : " I will not die ! -I will return !"
then pressed the bouquet to his lips and sank back in the carriage.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE NUTSHELLS BEHIND THE FAUTEUIL OF THE QUEEN.
PRINCESS WILHELMINA, as we have said, did not look back ; she
stepped silently through the ball-room, and approached the Princess
Amelia. She stood for a moment behind a couple who were dancing
the Francaise. The French officers had just taught this dance to the
Prussian ladies as the newest Parisian mode.
It was a graceful and coquettish dance, approaching and avoid-
ing ; the ladies stood opposite their cavaliers, and advanced with
smiling grace, then appeared to fly from them in mocking haste.
They were pursued in artistic tours by their cavaliers ; at the end
of the dance their hands were clasped in each other's, and they
danced through the room with the graceful time and step of the
minuet.
Princess Wilhelmina stood silent and unobservant ; she knew not
the dance was ended ; she knew not that the music was silenced.
A softer, sweeter, dearer melody sounded in her ears ; she heard the
echo of that voice which had spoken scornfully, despairingly, and
yet love had been the sweet theme.
The sudden stillness waked her from her dream and she stepped
forward. The general silence was interrupted by the well-known
coarse, stern voice of the Princess Amelia.
" Does this dance please you, Baron Marshal? The French officer*
have taught it to our ladies as a return for the dance which om
brave Prussian soldiers taught the French at Rossbach ; at Rossbach,
however, they danced to a quicker, faster tempo. These French-
men are now calling out, 'En avant ! ' but at Rossbach, I am told,
'En arriere!' was the word of command."
A death-like silence followed these sarcastic words of the prin
cess, and throughout the room her mocking, derisive laugh which
followed these words was distinctly heard. She rose, and leaning
upon the arm of Baron Marshal, advanced to meet the Princess
Wilhelmina, and cast a fierce glance at the officers, who were assem-
bled in groups and talking in low tones but earnestly with each
other.
Suddenly Belleville, leaning on another officer, advanced from
NUTSHELLS BEHIND THE FAUTEUIL OF THE QUEEN. 315
one of these groups ; they walked backward and forward, laughing
and chattering loudly, without regarding the presence of the prin-
cess. They then drew near the orchestra, and called out in a jovial
tone :
" Messieurs, have the kindness to play a Dutch waltz, but in the
quick time which the Austrians played at Hochkirch, when they
drove the Prussians before them ; and in which Field -Marshal
Broglie played at Bergen, when he tramped upon the Prussians !
Play on, messieurs ! play on !"
Belleville then danced forward with great levity of manner to
Fraulein Marshal, who stood by the side of her father; without
saluting her, he seized her hand.
" Come, ma toute belle, " said he, " you have played the marble
statue long enough for one day ; it is time that you should awake to
life in my arms. Come, then, and dance with me your lascivious
Dutch waltz, which no respectable woman in France would dare to
dance ! Come ! come !"
Belleville tried to drag Fraulein Marshal forward, but at the in-
stant a powerful and heavy arm was laid upon him, and his hand
was dashed off rudely.
"I have heard you to the end," said Baron Marshal, calmly ; "I
wished to see a little of the renowned gallantry of which the French-
man is so proud. It appears to me that a strange ton must now reign
in Paris, well suited, perhaps, to the boudoirs of mistresses, but not
fitting or acceptable to the ears of respectable women. I beg you
therefore, sir, not to assume this ton in Berlin ; I am resolved not to
endure it. "
Belleville laughed aloud, drew very near the baron, and looked
him insolently in the face.
" Who are you, monsieur, who dare take the liberty of begging
me, who do not know you, to do or not do any thing?"
"I am Baron Marshal, the father of this lady whom you have
dared to offend !"
Belleville laughed still louder than before.
" Aha 1 that is a beautiful fairy tale ! You who are as hideous as
a baboon, and have borrowed the eyes of the cat ! you the father of
the lovely Galatea Marshal ! tell that tale to other ears I do not be-
lieve in such aberrations of Nature. I repeat my question : who are
you ? what is your name ?"
" I repeat to you, I am Baron Marshal, the father of this lady. "
" You are more credulous, sir, than I am, if you believe that, "
said Belleville, coarsely.
"Perhaps I am less credulous than you suppose, " said Marshal,
quietly. " It would, for example, be difficult for me to believe that
316 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
you are a nobleman. I can assure you, however, that I am not only
noble, but a man of honor. "
Belleville was in the act of giving a passionate answer, when the
doors of the supper-room were thrown open, and a sea of light
irradiated the room.
At this moment, the queen and her ladies entered from the card
room, and, at her appearance, every word, every sound was hushed.
Silently, and with a conciliatory smile, the queen passed through
the saloon, and seated herself at the table ; she then gave the sign to
the grand-master, that her guests should be seated. And now the
servants, in golden liveries, flew from side to side bearing silver
plates, containing the rare and fragrant viands which the inventive
head of Baron Pollnitz had ordered for the favored guests of her
majesty the Queen of Prussia.
Nothing is so well calculated to quiet the perturbed soul as a
costly and well -prepared feast. The haughty Frenchmen soon for-
got their mortified vanity and resentment, and were well pleased to
be seated at the table of the " great Frederick. " They ate and drank
right merrily in honor of the bold and brave prince who had sent
them here from Rossbach ; but if the rich dishes made them forget
their mortification, the fiery wine excited yet more their presump-
tuous levity. They forgot that they were the guests of a queen.
Louder and more extravagant was their gayety, more boisterous,
more indiscreet their unrestrained laughter. In their frantic mer-
riment they dared to sing aloud some of the little ambigueug,
equivocal chansons, which belonged to the gamins of Paris, and at
which the Marquise de Pompadour laughed till she shed tears when
sung sometimes by the merry courtiers.
In vain the grand-master besought them, in his most polished
manner, not to sing at table.
" We have been so long forced to listen to the dull, screeching
discord of your singers, that we must have some compensation !"
said they. " Besides, " said Belleville, in a loud voice, " it belongs
now to bon ton to sing at the table ; and the Prussian court should
thank us for introducing this new Parisian mode. "
They sang, chatted, laughed, and almost overpowered the music
by their boisterous levity. Their presumptuous revelry seemed to
be every moment on the increase. The Austrian and Russian offi-
cers looked upon them with disgust and alarm, and entreated them
to desist ; but the French officers were regardless of all etiquette.
During the dessert, Belleville and some of his friends arose and drew
near the table at which the queen and the princesses were seated ;
this was in the middle of the room, and slightly separated from the
other tables. They gazed at the princesses with insolent eyes, and,
NUTSHELLS BEHIND THE FAUTEUIL OF THE QUEEN. 317
placing themselves behind the chair of the queen, they began to
crack nuts with their teeth, and throw the shells carelessly upon
the floor, near her majesty.
The queen continued a quiet conversation with the Princess
Wilhelmina, and appeared wholly unconscious of this rudeness and
vulgarity ; but her face was pallid, and her eyes filled with tears.
"I pray your majesty to rise from the table !" said the Princess
Wilhelmina. "Look at the Princess Amelia; her countenance
glows with anger ; there is a tempest on her brow, and it is about to
burst upon us. "
" You are right ; that is the best way to end this torture. " She
rose from the table, and gave a sign for a general movement.
When the queen and her suite had left the room, Baron Marshal
drew near Count Belleville.
"Sir," said he, "I told you before that I was not sufficiently
credulous to take you for a nobleman. Your conduct at the table
nas proved that I did well to doubt you. Yourself and friends have
shown that you are strangers to the duties of cavaliers, and utterly
ignorant of the manners of good society. "
" Ah !" cried Belleville, " this offence demands satisfaction. "
" I am ready to grant it, " said Baron Marshal ; " name the time
and place of meeting. "
" You know well, " cried Belleville, " that I am a prisoner, and
nave given my word of honor not to use my sword !"
" So you were impertinent and shameless, because you knew you
were safe? You knew that, thanks to your word of honor, you could
not be chastised !"
"Sir," cried Belleville, "you forget that you speak not only to a
nobleman, but to a soldier. "
" Well, I know that I speak to a Frenchman, who lost his powder-
mantle and pomatum-pot at Rossbach. "
Belleville, beside himself with rage, seized his sword, and half
drew it from the scabbard.
"God be praised, I have a sword with which to revenge insult !"
he cried. "I have given my word not to use it on the battle-field
against the Prussians, but here we stand as private adversaries, man
to man, and I challenge you, sir I challenge you to mortal combat.
I will have satisfaction ! You have insulted me as a nobleman, as
a Frenchman, and as a soldier. No consideration shall restrain me.
I dare not use my sword well, then, we will fight with pistols. As
to time and place, expect me to-morrow, at eight o'clock, in the
Thiergarden. "
" I accept the conditions, and I will await you with your sec-
onds, " said Baron Marshal.
318 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" If the baron has not chosen his seconds, " said a soft voice be-
hind him, " I beg to offer my services. "
Baron Marshal turned, and saw an officer in the Austrian uni-
form.
"Count Ranuzi, " cried Belleville, astonished; "how, monsieur!
you offer yourself as second to my adversary? I had thought to ask
this service of you. "
"I suspected so, "said Ranuzi, with his accustomed calm and
quiet manner, " therefore I anticipated you. The right is certainly
on the side of Baron Marshal, and in offering myself as his second,
I do so in the name of all the Austrian officers who are present.
They have all seen the events of this evening with painful indigna-
tion. Without doubt the world will soon be acquainted with them ;
we wish to make an open, public demonstration that we wholly dis-
approve the conduct of the French officers. The nutshells thrown
behind the fauteuil of the queen have made us your adversaries,
Count Belleville. "
" That is not the occasion of this duel, but the affront offered me
by Baron Marshal, " cried Belleville. " This being the case, will you
still be the second of my opponent?"
" I was compelled to insult you, " said Baron Marshal, " because
you would have given me no satisfaction for the nutshells thrown
behind the fauteuil of the queen ; but be assured that I don't fight
with you in order that you may wash out my offence with my blood,
but wholly and alone that your blood may wash away the nutshells
from the feet of the queen. "
Baron Marshal then turned to Ranuzi. "I accept your offer, sir,
and rejoice to make the acquaintance of a true nobleman. Have
the goodness to meet the seconds of Count Belleville, and make all
necessary arrangements. I will call for you early in the morning.
I only say further that it is useless to make any attempts at recon-
ciliation I shall not listen to them. Prussia and France are at
war. My great king has made no peace I also will not hear of it.
The nutshells lie behind the fauteuil of the queen, and only the blood
of Count Belleville can wash them away. "
He bowed to Ranuzi, and joined his daughter, who, pale and
trembling, awaited him in the next room.
"Oh, father," said she, with tears gushing from her eyes, "your
life is in danger you meet death on my account !"
"No, thank God, my child, your name will not be mixed up in
this affair. No one can say that the mortified father revenged an
insult offered to his daughter. I fight this duel not for you, but be
cause of the nutshells behind the fauteuil of the queen."
THE DUEL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 319
CHAPTER IX.
THE DUEL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
EARLY in the morning two horsemen dashed down the Linden.
Their loud conversation, their pert and noisy laughter, aroused the
curiosity of the porters who stood yawning in the house-doors, and
the maids opened the windows and gazed curiously at the two gal-
lant French officers who were taking such an early ride to the
Thiergarden. When the girls were young and pretty, Belleville
threw them a kiss as he passed by, and commanded them to give it
with his tenderest greeting to their fair mistress.
" Happily, " said his companion, " these good Berliners do not un-
derstand our speech sufficiently to inform their mistresses of this
last insolence of Count Belleville. "
" They do not, but their mistresses do, and I cannot think that
they are still sleeping. No, I am convinced they have risen early,
and are now standing behind their maids, and watching us go by.
In this street dwell those who call themselves society ; they were at
the castle yesterday, and know of this duel. I think our good mar-
quise will one day reward me richly for this duel, when I tell her I
stood behind the queen and cracked nuts like a gamin in Paris, and
that I was shot at because of the nutshells. She will laugh tears
tears which I will strive to convert into diamonds for myself."
"You feel assured that you will return unharmed from this
duel?"
" Yes, I cannot doubt it. I always won the prize at our pistol-
shooting in Paris, and then, this stupid Dutchman is, without
doubt, horrified at the thought of shooting at a man, and not at a
mark. No, vraiment, I do not doubt but I shall be victorious, and I
rejoice in anticipation of that dejeuner dinatoire with which my
friends will celebrate it. "
"But, "said his second, "let us for a moment suppose that you
are not victorious ; one must ever be prepared in this poor world,
ruled by accident, for the worst that can befall. In case you fall,
have you no last commissions to give me?"
Count Belleville stopped his horse as they were in the act of
entering the garden.
"You positively insist on burying me? Well, then, I will make
my last will. In case I fall go instantly to my quarters, open my
writing-desk, and press upon a small button you will see on the left
side ; there you will find letters and papers ; tie them carefully, and
send them in the usual way to Countess Bernis. As to my heritage,
320 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
you know I have no gold ; I leave nothing but debts. My clothes
you can give to my faithful servant, Francois ; for the last year I
have paid him no wages. Now my testament is made no, stop, I
had forgotten the most important item. Should the inconceivable,
the unimaginable happen, should this Dutch village-devil slay me,
I make it the duty of the French officers here to revenge me on the
haughty daughter of my adversary, and on all these dull and prudish
beauties. They must carry out what I intended yesterday. I have
drawn a few sketches and added a few notes ; make as many copies
as are required, and paste them on the designated places. If I fall,
this must be done the following night, that my wandering soul may
find repose in the sweet consciousness of revenge. If my enemy's
ball strikes me, hasten forward, and, before any one dares lay his
hand upon me, take from mj breast-pocket a paper, which you will
find there, and conceal it ; it is the drawing, and it is my legacy to
my comrades. Swear to ma to do as I have said. "
"I swear!"
" And now, mon ami, let us forget this stupid thought of death,
and look life saucily and merrily in the face. Life will not have
the courage to break with a brave son of la belle France. "
Belleville drew his bridle suddenly, and sprang through the gate
into the garden ; turning to the right, they rode for some time
under the shadow of the trees, then through a side allee, which led
to an open place surrounded by lofty oaks. At this moment he
heard the roll of an open carriage, and turning, he saluted gayly
the two gentlemen who were seated in it ; he checked his horse sud-
denly in order to ride by their side, and provoking the beautiful and
noble beast by the rude use of his spurs, he forced it into many
difficult and artistic evolutions. Arrived at the place of rendezvous,
he sprang lightly from the saddle and fastened his horse to a tree,
then drew near Baron Marshal, who, with Ranuzi, was just descend-
ing from the carriage.
" No man could be more prudent than yourself, sir, " said he,
laughing, "to come to a rendezvous in a carriage; truly, that is a
wise and, I think on this occasion, well-grounded precaution."
" A forethought which I have exercised on your account, " said
the baron, gravely. "You, sir, will require a carriage, and know-
ing you, as a stranger, had no carriage in Berlin, I brought mine.
It shall be at your service. "
" Vraiment ! you are too good ! I hope, however, not to make use
of your offer. "
Now, according to custom, Ranuzi drew near the baron to make
a last attempt at reconciliation. He answered sternly : " You know
that I am not to blame, and therefore will take no step in this mat
THE DUEL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 321
ter. I suppose, Count Belleville is as little disposed as myself to
make apologies. "
" I intend to prove to you, sir baron, that I am a nobleman and
a brave one ; and as to the nuts which I cracked behind the queen,
my only regret is, that they, like every thing else in your detested
Berlin, were hollow. "
"No, sir, they were not at all hollow," said Baron Marshal,
drawing up the cock of his pistol ; " in one of those nuts I saw a
death-worm, which will soon bore into your flesh. "
He bowed to Belleville and took the place pointed out by his
second. The second of Belleville then drew near, and led him to
the outermost point of the line.
The Frenchman laughed aloud. " How, " said he, " you will take
me to the end of the world to secure me from the ball of my enemy?"
"Sir," said the grave and solemn voice of the baron, "you will
still be too near me. "
" Well, sir baron, I give you precedence, " said Belleville, laugh-
ing, " though, I believe, I have the right ; but age must have the
precedence fire, sir."
" No, young man, " said Marshal, sadly ; " I will grant you one
more glance at the glad sun and the fresh, green earth ; you shall
fire first, and I council you to lay aside your levity ; let your hand
be firm and your aim steady ; if you fail, you are lost. I am a good
shot, and I am without mercy. "
There was something so convincing, so gloomy in his tone, that
Belleville was involuntarily affected by it. For the first time his
brow was clouded, and a slight pallor took possession of his cheek ;
but he forced back this prophetic shudder quickly, and raised his
pistol with a firm hand.
Far away, in the still park, sounded the echo of his shot ; but
opposite to him stood his adversary, firm and calm as before, with
his eye fixed steadily upon him.
Belleville threw his pistol to the ground, and drawing his gold
snuff-box from his vest-pocket with his small white hands, adorned
with cuffs of lace, he played carelessly upon the lid ; then opened it,
and slowly and gracefully took a pinch of snuff, saying, coolly, " I
await your ball."
Marshal raised his pistol and aimed directly at the head of his
enemy, who looked him firmly in the eye. The appearance of this
youthful, fresh, and brave face softened, against his will, the noble
and magnanimous soul of this good man. He let his arm fall.
"Sir," said he, "you are so young, perhaps your life may improve.
I will not kill you. But you need for this life a great, impressive
lesson and a lasting warning. I will therefore shoot you through
322 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the right leg, just above the knee. " * He raised the pistol quickly,
and fired. As the smoke was lifted, Belleville was seen lying bleed-
ing on the ground. The shot had gone right through the knee and
broken the knee-pan.
As his second bowed over him, Belleville whispered, with broken
eyes and trembling lips : " My legacy ! do not forget my legacy ! I
believe I shall die ; this pain is horrible. "
The Frenchman took the paper from his pocket and concealed it
" I will be avenged, " said Belleville, with a convulsive smile,
then sank into unconsciousness.
Belleville was placed in the carriage of Baron Marshal and car-
ried to the city. Baron Marshal went immediately to the com-
mandant of Berlin, gave notice of what had taken place, and declared
himself under arrest.
The commandant took his hand kindly. " The laws forbid duel-
ling, and I must consider you under arrest until I receive further
orders. That is to say, house-arrest ; you must give me your word
not to leave your house. I will send a courier immediately to the
king. I was in the castle last night, and witness to all the circum-
stances which led to this duel, witnessed the conduct of these
Frenchmen, and in your place I would have acted just as you have
done. "
The French officers fulfilled the vow they had made to their
wounded comrade ; they had promised to revenge him on Fraulein
Marshal and the other ladies of the court.
The morning after the duel, on the corners of all the principal
streets, placards were pasted, which were soon surrounded by crowds
of men, exhibiting astonishment and indignation. These placards
contained a register of all the young and beautiful women of the
court and city ; to these names were added a frivolous and voluptu-
ous personal description of every lady, and to this the name of the
French officer which each was supposed to favor, f
An outcry of scorn and rage was heard throughout Berlin ; every
one was excited at the boundless shamelessness of the French officers,
and on this occasion the mass of the people took the part of the rich
and the distinguished, whom generally they envied and despised.
They felt themselves aggrieved by the contempt and ridicule which
these Frenchmen had cast upon the daughters of Prussians, and no
police force was necessary to tear these placards from the walls ;
they were torn off and trampled under foot, or torn into a thousand
pieces and scattered to the winds. If a Frenchman dared to show
himself on the street, he was received with curses and threats, and
* The words of Baron Marshal. See ThiSbault.
tThiebault, p. 90.
THE DUEL AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 323
the police were obliged to forbid them to appear in any public place,
as they feared they would not be able to protect them from the fierce
indignation of tne people. The doors of all the prominent houses,
in which heretofore they had received so much attention, were now
closed against them. The commandant of Berlin had sent a detailed
account of the conduct of the French officers to the king, and the
answer had been received.
Eight days after the placards had been pasted up by the French-
men, exactly upon the same places new placards were to be found,
around which the people were again assembled ; on every face was
seen a happy smile, from every lip was heard expressions of har-
mony and approbation. This was a greeting of the king not only to
his Berliners, but to Prussia and to the world; he was now "the
Great Frederick," and all Europe listened when he spake. Fred-
erick's greeting read thus :
" It is known to all Europe that I have provided every possible
comfort to all officers who are prisoners of war. Swedes, French-
men, Russians, Austrians I have allowed to pass the time of their
captivity at my capital. Many among them have taken advantage
of the confidence reposed in them and carried on a forbidden corre-
spondence ; they have also, by unmannerly and presumptuous con-
duct, greatly abused the privileges allowed them ; I therefore feel
myself constrained to send them to Spandau, which city must not
be confounded with the fortress of the same name at Spandau ; they
will be no more restricted than in Berlin, but they will be more
closely watched.
" For this decision I cannot be blamed. The law of nations and
the example of my allied enemies justify me fully. The Austrians
have not allowed any of my officers who have fallen into their hands
to go to Vienna. The Russians have sent their captives to Kasan.
My enemies lose no opportunity to give a false aspect to my acts ;
I have, therefore, thought it wise to make known the causes which
lead me to change my policy with regard to the prisoners of war.
" FREDERICK. "
Two of the officers, with whom we are acquainted, were not in-
cluded in this sentence of banishment.
One was Count Belleville. On the day that his comrades, de-
prived of their swords, left Berlin, his corpse was carried through
the outer gate. The shot of Baron Marshal made an amputation
necessary, and death was the consequence. While his friends,
whose condemnation he had brought about, marched sadly to Span-
dau, his body was laid in the " Friedhof . " To the corpse had been
granted a favor denied to the living his sword was allowed to deck
his coffin.
624 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The Austrian officer, Ranuzi, because of his wise and prudent
conduct and the powerful support he gave to Baron Marshal, was
permitted to remain in Berlin. Ranuzi received this permission
with triumphant joy. As he looked from his window at the pris-
oners marching toward Spandau, he said with a proud smile " It
is written, 'Be wise as a serpent.' These fools have not regarded
the words of Holy Writ, and therefore they are punished, while I
shall be rewarded. Yes, my work will succeed ! God gives me a
visible blessing. Patience, then, patience ! A day will come when
I will take vengeance on this haughty enemy of the Church. On
that day the colors of the apostolic majesty of Austria shall be
planted on the fortress of Magdeburg !"
CHAPTER X.
THE FIVE COURIERS.
IT was the morning of the thirteenth of August. The streets of
Berlin were quiet and empty. Here and there might be seen a
workman with his axe upon his shoulder, or a tradesman stepping
slowly to his comptoir. The upper circle of Berlin still slumbered
and refreshed itself after the emotions and excitements of yesterday.
Yesterday had been a day of rejoicing ; it had brought the news
of the great and glorious victory which the crown prince, Ferdinand
of Brunswick, had gained at Minden, over the French army under
Broglie and Contades.
The crown prince had ever remembered that great moment in the
beginning of the war, when his mother took leave of him in the
presence of the Brunswick regiments. Embracing him for the last
time, she said : "I forbid you to appear before me till you have per-
formed deeds of valor worthy of your birth and your allies !" *
Her son, the worthy nephew of Frederick the Great had now
bought the right to appear before his mother.
By the victories of Gotsfeld and Minden he had now wiped out
the defeat at Bergen, and the laurels which Brissac had won there
were now withered and dead.
Berlin had just received this joyful news. After so much sorrow,
so much humiliation and disappointment, she might now indulge
herself in a day of festal joy, and, by public declarations and testi-
monials, make known to the world how dear to her heart was this
victory of her king and his generals, and how deep and warm was
the sympathy she felt.
*Bodman.
THE FIVE COURIERS. 325
All work was set aside in honor of this great celebration the
people were spread abroad in the meadows and woods, shouting and
rejoicing, playing and dancing ; the rich and the distinguished
joined them without ceremony, to prove to the world that in such
great moments, all differences of rank were forgotten that they
were all members of one body united in joy and in sorrow by an
electric chain.
So they slumbered on ; the streets were still empty, the windows
till closed.
But see ! There comes a horseman through the Frankfort gate,
dusty and breathless ; his glowing face was radiant with joy ! As
he dashed through the streets he waved a white handkerchief high
in the air, and with a loud and powerful voice, cried out, " Victory !
victory !"
This one word had a magic influence. The windows flew up,
the doors were dashed open, and shouting and screaming crowds of
men rushed after the horseman. At a corner they surrounded his
horse and compelled him to stop. "Who is victorious?" cried they
tumultuously.
"The king the great Frederick! He has whipped the Russians
at Kiinersdorf !"
A cry of rapture burst from every lip. " The king is victorious !
he has defeated the Russians !"
Onward flew the courier to the palace ; after him streamed the
mad people. " The days of mourning are over the blood of our sons
has not been shed in vain, they are the honored dead their death
brought victory to the fatherland ; they have drenched the soil with
the blood of our barbarous enemies. We whipped the French at
Minden, the Russians at Kiinersdorf, and now we have defeated the
Austrians and won back the trophies of their victory at Hochkirch !"
The people surrounded the castle shouting and triumphing. The
courier had entered to give to the queen the joyful news. Soon the
royal messengers were flying into every corner of the city to sum-
mon the ministers and officers of state to the castle. On foot, on
horseback, in carriages, they hastened on, and the people received
them with joyful shouts. " The king is victorious ; the Russians
are defeated 1"
And now a door opened on a balcony, and Minister Herzberg
stepped out. He waved his hat joyfully high in the air. The people
returned this greeting with a roar like an exulting lion. He waved
his hand, and the lion ceased to roar there was death-like silence.
He then told them that the king had offered battle to the Russians,
yesterday, not far from Frankfort. The Russian army was greatly
superior in numbers ; they received the Prussians with a fearful,
326 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
deadly fire ! Unrestrainable, regardless of cannon-balls, or of death,
the Prussians rushed on, stormed all the strongholds, and drove the
Russian militia with fearful slaughter back to the graveyard of
Ktinersdorf. At five o'clock the king sent off the courier and the
victory was assured.
"The victory was assured!" reechoed the mighty voice of the
people. With warm and kindly eyes they looked upon each other.
Proud, glad, happy, men who did not know each other, who had
never met, now felt that they were brothers, the sons of one father-
land, and they clasped hands, and shouted their congratulations.
Suddenly, at the end of the street, another horseman appeared.
He drew nearer and nearer. It is a second courier, a second mes-
sage of our king to his family and his Berliners.
The people looked at him distrustfully, anxiously. What means
this second courier? What news does he bring?
His countenance gay, his brow clear, with a flashing smile he
greets the people. He brings news of victory complete, assured
victory.
Like the first courier, he dashed on to the castle, to give his dis-
patches to the queen and the ministers. The people were drunk
with joy. The equipages of the nobles rolled by. Every one whose
rank gave him the privilege wished to offer his personal congratu-
lations to the queen.
And now in the Konigstrasse was seen a venerable procession.
The magistrates of Berlin in front the burgomasters with their
long periwigs and golden chains, behind them the worthy city
council all hastened to the castle to offer congratulations in the
name of the city.
The crowd drew back respectfully before the worthy city fathers,
and opened a path for them, then fixed their eyes again upon the bal-
cony where Minister Herzberg again appeared, and called for silence.
He will give us the news of the second courier. The victory is
absolute. The Russians completely defeated. They had retreated
to Kiinersdorf . In this village they proposed to defend themselves.
But the Prussians were unceasingly pressing upon them. Seven
redoubts, Kirchhof, Spitzberg, and one hundred and eighty-six can-
non had been taken. The enemy had suffered a monstrous loss, and
was in the greatest confusion. The fate of the day seemed conclu-
sive. This was owing to the heroic courage of the army, whom
neither the blazing heat of the sun nor the unexampled slaughter
could for a moment restrain. At six o'clock, when the king sent
off this second courier, the enemy had retreated behind his last in-
trenchments, and taken refuge at Gudenberg. *
* Frederick the Great. Thi6bault.
THE FIVE COURIERS. 327
A loud hurrah broke from the people as Herzberg finished and
left the balcony. Now there was no room for doubt. The enemy
was overwhelmed and had fled to his last intrenchment. Would
the king leave him unmolested, and would he not still drive the
hated enemy further?
While groups of men were assembled here and there, discussing
these weighty questions, and others, intoxicated, drunk with joy
at this great victory over their hereditary enemy, were making
eloquent addresses to the people, a third courier appeared in sight.
Breathless with expectation and anxiety, they would not give
him time to reach the castle. They must they would know the
news he brings. There should be no delay, no temporizing, no
mysteries. The people were one great family. They awaited the
message of their father. They demanded news of their distant sons
and brothers.
The third courier brings renewed assurances. The Russians are
routed. The king will give them no rest. He will drive them from
their last stronghold. With his whole army, with cavalry and
militia, with all his cannon, he was in the act of storming Guden-
berg. This is the message of the third courier.
The people are proud and happy. No one thinks of going home.
In fact, they have no home but the streets. Every house would be
too small for this great family which feels a thirst to express its joy
and its rapture to each other. And then it was possible the king
might send another courier. Who could go home till they knew
that the Russians were driven from their last stronghold, that
Gudenberg was drenched in Russian blood ?
No one doubted that this news would come must come. Not
the slightest fear, the least doubt troubled the proud, pure joy of
this hour. The victory was achieved, but it was still charming to
hear it confirmed ; to receive these heavenly messages. Every open
space was filled with men. Each one would see and hear for him-
self. No man thought himself too distinguished, too sick, too
weak, to stand for hours in the burning sun, carried about involun-
tarily by this fluctuating wave of humanity. Side by side with the
laborer stood the elegant lady in her silk robes ; near the poor beg-
gar in his ragged jacket were seen the high official and the wealthy
banker in their rich dresses.
More than fifty thousand men were now assembled and waiting
waiting for what they knew not for news for a courier who
could give the details. It was not enough to know that the king
had conquered ; they wished to know the extent and the signifi-
cance of this victory ; and lastly, they would know the bloody offer-
ing which this victory had cost.
328 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The dinner-hour was passed. What cared this happy people for
dinner? They hungered for no earthly food; they thirsted for no
earthly drink ; they were satisfied with the joy of victory. The
clock struck three. Yes, there comes a horseman, his bridle is
hanging loose he is covered with dust but how, what means this?
His face is pale as death ; his eyes are misty ; he looks around
shame-faced and confused. No happy news is written upon this
dark and clouded brow. What means this messenger of death in
the midst of joy, triumph, and proud consciousness of victory?
They seek to hold him, to question him, but he gives no answer.
He spurs his wearied horse till he springs aloft, and the men in rash
terror are crushed against each other ; but the horseman makes no
sign. Silently he dashes on through the laughing, chatting crowd,
but wherever he passes, laughter and smiles disappear, and speech
is silenced.
It seemed as if the angel of death had touched his brow, and the
happy ones shuddered at his untimely presence. Now he has
reached the castle, he descends from his horse. In breathless
silence, pallid, trembling they know not why, those who have seen
this dumb messenger look up shudderingly to the balcony. At last,
after long waiting, the Minister Herzberg appeared once more.
But, O God! what means this? he is pale his eyes are filled
with tears. He opens his mouth to speak, but strength has left him.
He holds on to the bars of the balcony, otherwise he would sink.
At last he collects himself. It is not necessary to ask for silence ;
the silence of the grave is upon those torpid men. He speaks ! his
voice is faint and weak, and trembles oh, so fearfully ! only a few
in the first rank can hear his words.
" The battle is lost ! The Russians have conquered ! The Austri-
ans came to their assistance ! The presence of the Austrians was
not known, they had their tents in holes in the ground ! As our
militia rushed upon the last intrenchment at Judenberg and were
only a hundred steps distant, Loudon suddenly advanced with his
fresh troops, against the worn-out and exhausted victors. He re-
ceived the Prussians with so murderous a fire, that their ranks
faltered, wavered, and, at last, broke loose in wild flight, pursued
furiously by the raging enemy. The fortunes of the day had turned ;
we lost the battle. But all is not lost. The king lives ! he is slightly
wounded ; three horses were shot under him. He lives, and so long
as he lives, there is hope. In the far distance, in the midst of the
terrible disasters which have befallen himself and his army, he
thinks of his Berliners. He sends you a father's greeting, and ex-
horts every one of you to save his possessions, as far as possible.
Those who do not feel safe in Berlin, and who fear the approaching
THE FIVE COURIERS. 329
anemy, the king counsels to withdraw, if possible, with their money,
to Magdeburg, where the royal family will take refuge this evening. "
The minister was silent, and the people who had listened, dumb
with horror, now broke out in wild cries of anguish and despair.
Terror was written in every face ; tears gushed from every eye.
Cries of unspeakable agony burst from those lips, which, a few mo-
ments before, were eloquent with hope and gladness.
As if it were impossible to believe in these misfortunes without
further confirmation, some men called loudly for the messenger, and
the distant crowd, as if inspired with new hope, roared louder and
louder :
" The courier ! the courier ! we will ourselves speak with the
courier !"
The demand was so threatening, so continuous, it must be com-
plied with. Herzberg stepped upon the balcony, and informed the
crowd that the courier would at once descend to the public square.
A breathless silence succeeded ; every eye was fixed upon the
castle-gate, through which the courier must come. When he ap-
peared, the crowd rushed forward toward him in mad haste. Cries
of woe and suffering were heard. The people, with mad with pain,
beside themselves with despair, had no longer any mercy, any pity
for each other. They rushed upon the messenger of misfortune,
without regarding those who, in the midst of this wild tumult, were
cast down, and trodden under foot.
The messenger began his sad story. He repeated all that the
minister had said ; he told of the deadly strife, of the bloody havoc,
of the raging advance of the Austrians, and of the roar for ven-
geance of the reassured Russians. He told how the cannon-balls of
the enemy had stricken down whole ranks of Prussians ; that more
than twenty thousand dead and wounded Prussians lay upon the
battle -field ; that all the cannon and all the colors had fallen into
the hands of the enemy.
The people received this news with tears, cries, and lamenta-
tions. The courier spoke also of the king. He, himself, had be-
longed to the body-guard of the king had been ever near him. He
had seen the king standing in the midst of the thickest shower of
balls, when his two adjutants fell at his side. At last, a ball came
and wounded the king's horse the Vogel so fearfully, that the
brave steed fell. Frederick mounted another horse, but remained
upon the same spot ; a second ball wounded this horse, and the king
quietly mounted that of Captain Gotzen. At this moment, a bullet
struck the king in the breast, but the golden etui which the king
carried in his pocket, had turned it aside, and thus saved his life.
In vain had the generals and adjutants entreated him to leave this
22
330 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
place, and think of his personal safety. His answer was "We
must seek, at this point, to win the battle. I must do my duty here
with the rest. " *
Many voices cried out "Where is the king now?"
The courier did not answer ; but the question was so fiercely, so
stormily repeated, that he was compelled to go on.
"The king, in the midst of the confusion and horror of the flight,
had called him, and commanded him to gallop to Berlin, and bear
the fatal news to Minister Herzberg. He had then galloped by him.
exactly against the enemy, as if he wished their balls to strike him ;
a little troop of his most faithful soldiers had followed !"
" The king is lost ! the king is a prisoner wounded perhaps
dead !" cried the terrified people.
Suddenly, the mad tumult was interrupted by loud shouts of joy,
which swelled and thundered like an avalanche from the other side
of the square. A fifth courier had arrived, and brought the news of
the complete defeat of the Russians, and a glorious Prussian victory.
Now, one of those memorable, wondrous-grand scenes took place,
which no earthly phantasy could contrive or prepare, to which only
Providence could give form and color. As if driven by the storm-
winds of every powerful earthly passion, this great sea of people
fluctuated here and there. At one point, thousands were weeping
over the news which the unhappy messenger had brought. Near
by, thousands were huzzaing and shouting over the joyful intelli-
gence brought by the fifth courier, while those who had been near
enough to the fourth courier to understand his words, turned aside
to give the sad news to those who were afar off. Coming at the
same time from the other side, they were met by a mighty mass of
men, who announced, with glad cries, the news of victory, brought
by the fifth courier. Here you could see men, with their arms
raised to heaven, thanking God for the hardly-won victory. A
little farther on, pale, frightened creatures, motionless, bowed down,
and grief -stricken. Here were women, with glowing cheeks and
sparkling eyes, shouting over their hero king. There, the people
wept and moaned ; their king had disappeared, was a prisoner, or
dead. As at the Tower of Babel, the people spoke in a thousand
tongues, and no one listened to another ; every one was lost blinded
by his own passionate hopes and fears.
At last the two couriers were called upon to come face to face
and decide these important questions. Strong men lifted them upon
their shoulders and brought them together ; a profound and fearful
silence ensued, every man felt that he stood upon the eve of a
mighty revelation ; fifty thousand men were waiting breathlessly
*The king's own words. See Thtebault.p. 214.
AFTER THE BATTLE. 331
for news of happiness beyond compare, or of unspeakable woe. The
conversation of the two horsemen standing upon the shoulders of
Jheir townsmen was quick and laconic.
" At what hour did the king send you off?" said the fourth courier
to the fifth.
" At six. The king himself commissioned me "
"Where stood our army at that time?" said the fourth courier.
"They stood before the hollow ground, and the Russians had
withdrawn to the intrenchments of Zudenberg ; we had taken a
hundred and twenty cannon, and many of our soldiers were wander-
ing about the battle-field looking at the batteries they had taken."*
" Yes, " said the fourth courier, sadly, " that was at six, but at
seven we were in full flight. Loudon had risen from the ground,
and the frightened, conquered Russians had recovered themselves.
You left at six, I at eight ; I have ridden more rapidly than you.
Unhappily, I am right, the battle is lost !"
"The battle is lost!" howled the people; "the king is also lost!
Woe! woe!"
At this moment the royal equipages were seen making their way
slowly through the crowd, and the advance guard were praying the
people to open a way for the travelling carriages to reach the castle.
These words excited new alarm. " We are lost ! Let us fly, let
us fly I The court, the queen, and the princesses flee let us save
ourselves ! The Russians will come to Berlin they will annihilate
us. We are deserted and lost, lost ! no one knows where our king
is I"
As if driven by madness, the crowds rushed against each other,
like the sea when it divides, and in billowy streams pours itself out
here and there ; and the cry of anguish which now rang out from
the castle square, found its echo in every street and every house.
CHAPTER XI.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
THE cannon were silenced, the discharges of musketry had ceased.
On the great plain of Kiinersdorf, where, a few hours before, a
bloody battle had been raging, all was quiet. Could this be called
repose? How cruel was the tranquillity which rested now upon this
fearful battle-field !
It was the peace of death the stillness which the awful messen-
ger of Heaven presses as a sign and seal of his love upon the pale
* Bodraan.
332 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
lips of the dead. Happy they whose immortal spirits were quickly
wafted away by the dread kiss they no longer suffer. Woe to those
who yet live, though they belong to death, and who lie surrounded
by grinning corpses ! The cold bodies of their comrades ai'e the
pillows upon which they lay their bloody heads. The groans of the
dying form the awful melody which awakes them to consciousness ;
and the starry sky of this clear, transparent summer night is the
only eye of love which bows down to them and looks upon them in
their agony.
Happy those whom the murderous sword and the crushing ball
carried off in an instant to the land of spirits ! Woe, woe to those
lying upon the battle-field, living, breathing, conscious of their de-
feat and of their great agony ! Woe ! woe ! for they hear the sound
of the tramping and neighing of horses they come nearer and nearer.
The moon throws the long, dark shadows of those advancing horse-
men over the battle-field. It is fearful to see their rash approach ;
spurring on over thousands of pale corpses, not regarding the dying,
who breathe out their last piteous sighs under the hoofs of these wild
horses.
The Cossack has no pity ; he does not shudder or draw back from
this monstrous open grave, which has received thousands of men as
if they were one great corpse. The Cossack has come to rob and to
plunder ; he spares neither friend nor foe. He is the heir of the
dead and of the dying, and he has come for his inheritance. If he
sees a ring sparkling upon the hand of a grinning corpse, he springs
from his horse and tears it off. If his greedy, cruel eye rests upon
a rich uniform he seizes it, he tears it off from the bleeding, wounded
body, no matter whether it is dead or still breathing and rattling.
Look at that warrior who, groaning with anguish, his limbs
torn to pieces, bleeding from a thousand wounds, is lying in an
open grave ; he is wounded to death ; he still holds his sword in his
left hand his right arm has been torn off by a cannon-ball, a shot
has crushed his legs, and his comrades have placed him in this grave
that he might not be trampled upon by the horses' hoofs ; they are
forced to leave him in the hands of God and o the mercy of man.
But the Cossack knows no mercy. That is - word he has never
heard in his Russian home ; he has no fear of God before his eyes
he fears the Czar and his captain, and above all other things, he
fears the knout. He knows nothing of pity, for it has never been
shown him how then should he exercise it?
When the Cossack saw the Prussian officer in his gold-embroi-
dered uniform, he sprang from his horse and threw the bridle over
him ; a shrill whistle told the wild steed, the Cossack's better half,
that he must stand still. He sprang into the grave where the Prus
AFTER THE BATTLE. 333
sian warrior, the German poet, was laid to rest. Yes, a great Ger-
man poet lies there a poet by the grace of God. All Germany
knows him, * their songster of the spring. " All Germany had read
and been inspired by his lays. The Austrian and the Saxon con-
sidered the Prussian Major Ewald von Kleist their enemy, but they
loved and admired the poet, Ewald von Kleist. The people are
never enemies to poesy, and even politics are silent before her melo-
dious voice.
There he lies, the gallant warrior, the inspired, noble poet ; his
broken eyes are turned to heaven ; his blue, cold lips are opened and
wearily stammering a few disconnected words. Perhaps he thinks
in this last hour of the last words of his last poem. Perhaps his
stiffening lips murmured these words which his mangled hand had
written just before the battle :
" Death for one's fatherland is ever honorable.
How gladly will I die that noble death
When my destiny calls 1 "
Yes, death might have been beautiful, but fate is never propi-
tious to German poets. It would have been noble and sweet to die
in the wild tumult of battle, under the sound of trumpets, amid the
shouts of victory ; sweet thus, with a smile upon the lip to yield up
the immortal spirit.
Ewald von Kleist, the German poet, received his death-wound
upon the field of battle, but he did not die there ; he lives, he knows
that the battle is lost, that his blood has been shed in vain. The
Cossack has come down into his grave with greedy eyes he gazes
at the rich booty. This bleeding, mangled body this is to the Cos-
sack not a man, it is only a uniform which is his ; with hands
trembling with greed he tears it from the quivering, bleeding form.
What to him is the death-rattle and the blood even the bloody shirt
excites the covetousness of the barbarian, and he tears it from the
dying frame.*
The Prussian warrior, the German poet, lay there naked, his own
blood alone covered his wounded body, wrapped it in a purple man-
tle, worthy of the poet's crown with which his countrymen had
decked his brow.
But Ewald von Kleist is no longer a poet or a hero he is a poor,
suffering, tortured child of earth ; he lies on the damp ground, he
pleads for a few rags to cover his wounds, into which the muddy
water of the hole in which he lies is rushing.
And now fate seems favorable. A Russian officer is riding by--
he takes pity on the naked man with the gaping wounds ; he throwi
* " History of the Seven Years' War."-Tbiebault, 363.
334 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
him a soldier's old mantle, apiece of bread, and a half gulden.*
The German poet receives the alms of the Russian thankfully he
covers himself with the cloak, he tries to eat the bread.
But destiny is never propitious to German poets. The Cossacks
swarm again upon the battle-field, and again they approach the
groaning warrior in the open grave ; he has no longer a glittering
uniform, but the Cossack takes all ; the poor old mantle excites his
greed he tears it from the unresisting soldier ; he opens his hands
and takes out the half gulden which Ewald von Kleist had received
from the Russian hussar.
Again he lies naked, again the muddy water forces into his
wounds, and adds cruel torture to the agonies of death. So lies he
till the next day, till the enemy takes pity upon him and carries,
him as a prisoner to Frankfort, f
Happy those who meet with sudden death. It is true all the
living did not share the cruel fate of Ewald von Kleist, but all those
thousands who were borne wounded and bleeding from the battle-
field were conscious of their sufferings and their defeat.
The little village of Octshef near the battle-field was a hospital.
During the battle all the inhabitants had fled. The wounded had
taken possession of the huts and the surgeons were hastening from
house to house giving relief where it was possible. No one entered
into those two little huts which lay at the other end of the village,
somewhat separated from the others. And yet those huts contained
two wounded men. They had been brought here during the battle
the surgeon had examined their wounds and gone out silently, never
to return. Groaning from time to time, these two wounded men
lay upon the straw, their eyes fixed upon the door, longing for the
surgeon to bring them help, or at least alleviation.
And now the door was indeed opened, and an officer entered.
Was it the obscurity of twilight, or had blood and pain blinded the
eyes of the wounded men so that they could not recognize the
stranger? It was true his noble and generally cheerful face was
now grave and stern, his cheeks were ashy pale, and his great,
flashing eyes were dim ; but there was still something inexpressibly
majestic and commanding in his appearance though defeated and
cast down, he was still a hero, a king Frederick the Great !
Frederick had come to take up his quarters in this lonely hut, to
be alone in his great grief ; but when he saw the two wounded men,
*" Seven Years' War, 1 ' 253.
t Ewald von Kleist died a few days after this, on the 84th of August. The Rus-
sians gave him an honorable burial; and as there was no sword upon his coffin, Cap-
tain Bulow, chief of the Russian dragoons, took his own from his side and placed it
upon the bier, saying, " So worthy an officer shall not be buried without every mark
of honor." Archenholtz, 262.
AFTER THE BATTLE. 335
his expression changed to one of earnest sympathy. With hasty
steps he drew near to the two officers, bowed over and questioned
them kindly. They recognized his voice that voice which had so
often inspired them to bold deeds in the wild whirl of battle, but
whose tones were now mild and sympathetic.
" The king !" cried both in joyful surprise, and forgetting their
wounds and helplessness, they strove to rise, but sank back with
hollow groans, with the blood streaming anew from their wounds.
"Poor children," said Frederick, "you are badly wounded."
"Yes," groaned Lieutenant von Grabow, "badly wounded, but
that is of small consequence, if, your majesty, we only knew that
we had gained the day. We had taken two redoubts, and were
storming the third, when this misfortune befell us. Tell us, your
majesty, is it not true? Is not the victory ours?"
A dark shadow passed over the face of the king, but soon disap-
peared.
" You must now think only of yourselves. You have proved that
you are brave the rest is accident or fate. Do not despond, all will
be well. Have your wounds been dressed ? Have you been fed ?"
" Ah, sire, no devil will dress our wounds, " groaned Lieutenant
von Hubenfall.
"How," cried the king, "have they left you here without care
and assistance?"
" Yes, sire, there is no earthly hope for us. "
The king was about to answer, when several people, bearing
hand-barrows, accompanied by a surgeon, entered.
"What do you wish?" said the king, angrily.
"Sire," answered the surgeon, "we will remove the wounded, as
your majesty will make your night- quarters here."
The king threw a scornful glance upon them.
"And you suppose that I will allow this? The wounded men re-
main here. I will seek shelter elsewhere. But, above all things,
examine the wounds of these two officers at once, and dress them. "
The surgeon advanced, and examined them carefully, then drew
near the king.
" Your majesty, " said he, shrugging his shoulders, " it would be
all in vain. A cannon-ball has torn off the right arm of one of
these men, and he must die of gangrene. The other has a cartridge-
loa,d of iron in his face and in his body. It is impossible to bind up
these wounds. "
The king did not answer him. He stepped hastily to the straw-
bed, and took both the wounded men by the hand. Then, turning
to the surgeon, he said
" Look, now, these two men are young and powerful they have
336 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
no fever. With such young blood and fresh hearts Nature often
does wonders. Dress them, and bind up their wounds, and, above
all things, see that they have nourishment they have need of it. "
" Ah, yes, your majesty ; we have been hungry and thirsty a long
time, " said Grabow.
The king smiled. " See, now, you think they are lost, and yet
they have healthy stomachs ; so long as a man is hungry he will not
die. "
The surgeon opened his case of instruments and commenced to
drees the wounds. The king watched him for a long time, then
stooped down and said, tenderly, "Children, do not despair; I will
learn how it goes with you, and if you are no longer fit for service,
I will take care of you. Believe that I will not forget you. " He
bowed kindly and left the room. His adjutants were awaiting him
at the door of the tent. *
The king signed to them to follow him, and stepping rapidly
through the village, he passed by the huts from which loud cries of
anguish and low murmurs were heard.
" Ah, " cried Frederick, " Dante did not know all the horrors of
hell, or he forgot to paint those I now suffer. " He hastened on on
on, in the obscure twilight of the summer night, pursued by the
sighs and groans of his dying and wounded soldiers ; a deep, im-
measurable sadness lay upon his brow ; his lips were trembling ;
cold perspiration stood upon his forehead ; his eyes wandered over
the battle-field, then were raised to heaven with a questioning and
reproachful expression. Already the village lay far behind him ;
but he hurried on, he had no aim, no object ; he wished only to
escape this hell, this cry of despair and woe from the condemned.
An adjutant dared at last to step forward and awake him from his
sad mood.
" Sire, " said he, " the Cossacks are swarming in every direction,
and if your majesty goes on, the most fearful results may be antici-
pated. The Cossacks shoot at every man who wears a good coat. "
The king shook his head sadly. " There is no ball for me, " said
he in a low tone ; " I have in vain called upon death. I have prayed
in mercy for a ball ; it came, but it only grazed my breast. No, no
there is no ball for me !" He advanced, and the adjutant dared
once more to interrupt him.
"Sire," said he, "will not your majesty seek night- quarters?"
*The king's own words. The whole scene is historical. These two officers,
whom the king saved in this way from death, recovered rapidly. After they were
completely restored, they again took part in the contest, and were again severefy
wounded at Kolberg. They served until peace was declared, and then retired on the
invalid list, and, by the express order of the king, were most kindly cared for. Sea
Nicolai.
A HEROIC SOUL. 337
Frederick raised his head, and was in the act of answering
nastily, then said : " Yes, I need night-quarters. " He looked around
and saw an empty peasant's house by the wayside, drew near and
entered silently.
CHAPTER XII.
A HEROIC SOUL.
" I WILL pass the night here, " said he, " the place appears deserted ;
we will disturb no one. "
The king was right. The miserable old hut was empty. No one
advanced to meet him as he entered. In one corner of the room
there was some dirty straw ; in the other a wooden table and stool
this was all.
"It suffices for me," said the king, smiling. "I will pass the
night here. Have you my writing materials with you?"
"I sent Adjutant von Goltz for them, sire, as I did not wish to
leave you alone. "
Goltz now entered with the king's portfolio, and informed him
that he had brought two grenadiers to guard the house.
"Havel still grenadiers?" murmured the king, in a trembling
voice. His head fell upon his breast, and he stood thus lost in deep
thought for a while. " Gentlemen, " said he, at length, " inspect the
house. See if there is a more comfortable room than this ; if not, I
suppose we can manage to sleep here. Send one of the guard for
some soldiers, by whom I can forward my dispatches. "
The adjutants bowed, and left the room. The king was alone.
He could at last give way to his despair his grief.
" All, all is lost 1" murmured the king, and a voice within him
answered : " When all is lost, there is no escape but death ! It is
unworthy to continue a life without fame, without glory. The
grave alone is a resting-place for the broken-hearted, humiliated
man!"
The king listened attentively to this voice, lie had borne with
patience the sorrows and deprivations of the past years, but he could
not survive the ruin of his country. His country was lost. There
was no chance of saving it ; his army was gone. The victorious
enemy had taken all the neighboring provinces. The Russians could
now march undisturbed to Berlin. They would find no resistance,
for the garrison there consisted of invalids and cripples.
Berlin was lost ! Prussia was lost ! The king was resolved to
die, for he was a king without a crown, a hero without laurels. He
338 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
wished to die, for he could not survive the destruction of his coun-
try. But first he must arrange his affairs, make his will, and bid
adieu to his friends. The king opened the door hastily, and desired
that a light should be brought it was no easy thing to procure in
this dismal, deserted village. The adjutant succeeded at last, how-
ever, in getting a few small tallow candles, and placing them in old
bottles, in the absence of candlesticks of any description, he carried
them to the king. Frederick did not observe him ; he stood at the
open window, gazing earnestly at the starry firmament. The bright
light aroused him ; he turned, and approached the table.
" My last letters !" murmured he, sinking upon the wooden stool,
and opening his portfolio.
How his enemies would have rejoiced, could they have seen him
in that wretched hovel ! He first wrote to General Fink, to whom
he wished to leave the command of his army. He must fulfil the
duties of state, before those of friendship. It was not a letter
rather an order to General Fink, and read as follows :
"General Fink will find this a weary and tedious commission.
The army I leave is no longer in a condition to defend itself from
the Russians. Haddeck will hasten to Berlin. London also, I pre-
sume. If you intercept them, the Russians will be in your rear ; if
you remain by the Oder, Haddeck will surround you. I neverthe-
less believe, were London to come to Berlin, you could attack and
defeat him. This, were it possible, would give you time to arrange
matters, and I can assure you, time is every thing, in such desperate
circumstances as ours. Koper, my secretary, will give you the dis-
patches from Torgau and Dresden. You must acquaint my brother,
whom I make general- in-chief of the army, with all that passes. In
the mean time, his orders must be obeyed. The army must swear
by my nephew. This is the only advice I am able to give. Had I
any resources, I would stand fast by you.
" FREDERICK. " *
"Yes, I would have stood by them," murmured the king, as he
folded and addressed his letter. " I would have borne still longer
this life of oppression and privation ; but now, honor demands that
I should die. "
He took another sheet of paper. It was now no order or com-
mand, but a tender, loving, farewell letter to his friend, General
Finkenstein.
"This morning, at eleven o'clock, I attacked the enemy; we
drove them back to Gudenberg. All my men performed deeds of
daring and bravery, but, at the storming of Gudenberg, a terrific
number of lives were lost. My army became separated. I reassem-
*The king's own words.
A HEROIC SOUL. 339
bled them three times, but in vain. At last, they fled in wild dis-
order. I very nearly became a prisoner, and was obliged to leave
the field to the enemy. My uniform was torn by the cannon-balls,
two horses were shot underneath me, but death shunned me ; I
seemed to bear a charmed life ; I could not die ! From an army of
forty-eight thousand men, there now remains three thousand. The
consequences of this battle will be more fearful than the battle itself.
It is a terrible misfortune, and I will not survive it. There is no
one to whom I can look for help. I cannot survive my country's
ruin. Farewell !"
" And now, " said the king, when he had sealed and directed his
letter, " now I am ready ; my worldly affairs are settled. I am at
the end of my sufferings, and dare claim that last, deep rest granted
by Nature to us all. I have worked enough, suffered enough ; and
if, after a life of stormy disasters, I seek my grave, no one can say
it was cowardly not to live for all the weight of life rolled upon me,
forced me to the ground, and the grave opened beneath my feet. I
continued to hope, when overwhelmed with defeat at every point.
Eveiy morning brought new clouds, new sorrows. I bore it coura-
geously, trusting that misfortune would soon weary, the storms blow
over, and a clear, cloudless sky envelop me. I deceived myself
greatly ; my sorrows increased. And now, the worst has happened ;
my country is lost ! Who dares say I should survive this loss ? To die
at the proper time is also a duty. The Romans felt this, and acted
upon it. I am a true scholar of the old masters, and wish to prove
myself worthy of them. When all is lost, the liberty to die should
not be denied. The world has nothing more to do with me, and I
laugh at her weak, unjust laws. Like Tiberius, will I live and die !
Farewell, then, thou false existence ; farewell, weak man ! Ah !
there are so many fools so few men amongst you ; I have found so
many faithless friends, so many traitors, so few honest men ! In
the hour of misfortune they all deserted me ! But, no !" said he ;
"one remained true. D'Argens never deceived me, and I had
almost forgotten to take leave of him. Well, death must wait for
me, while I write to D'Argens !"
A heavenly inspiration now beamed on his countenance ; his
eyes shone like stars. The holy muse had descended to comfort the
despairing hero, to whisper loving and precious words to him.
Thus standing at death's portals, Frederick wrote his most beauti-
ful poem, called u Ami le sort en est jete." A great wail of woe
burst from his soul. The sorrows, the grievances hid until now
from all, he portrayed in touching, beautiful words to his absent
friend. He pictured to him his sufferings, his hopes, his struggles,
and finally, his determination to die. When all this had been
340 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
painted in the most glow ing colors, when his wounds were laid bare,
he wrote a last and touching farewell to his friend :
" Adieu, D'Argens! dans ce tableau,
De mon tr6pas tu vois la cause;
Au moins ne pense pas du n6ant du caveau,
Que 3 'aspire a Tapotheose.
Tout ce que TamitiS par ces vers propose,
C'est que tant qu'ici-bas le celeste flambeau;
Eclairera tes jours tandis que je repose,
Et lorsque le printemps paraissant de nouveau.
De son sein abondant t'offre les fleurs ecloses,
Chaque fois d'un bouquet de myrthes et de roses,
Tu daignes parer mon tombeau. 1 ' *
"Ah !" murmured the king, as he folded and addressed his poeti-
cal lettter, " how lovely it must now be at Sans-Souci ! Well, well !
my grave shall be there, and D'Argens will cover it with flowers.
And have I no other friends at Sans-Souci ? My good old hounds,
my crippled soldiers ! They cannot come to me, but I will go to
them. "
The king then arose, opened the door, and asked if a messenger
was in readiness ; receiving an answer in the affirmative, he gave
the three letters to the adjutant. "And now my work is finished,"
said he, "now I can die. " He took from his breast-pocket a small
casket of gold which he always carried with him, and which, in the
late battle, had served him as a shield against the enemy's balls.
The lid had been hollowed in by a ball ; strange to say, this casket,
which had saved his life, was now to cause his death. For within
it there was a small vial containing three pills of the most deadly
poison, which the king had kept with him since the beginning of
the war. The king looked at the casket thoughtfully. " Death here
fought against death ; and still how glorious it would have been to
die upon the battle-field believing myself the victor !" He held the
vial up to the light and shook it ; and as the pills bounded up and
down, he said, smiling sadly, " Death is merry ! It comes eagerly
to invite me to the dance. Well, well, my gay cavalier, I am ready
for the dance. "
He opened the vial and emptied the pills into his hand. Then
arose and approached the window to see once more the sky with its
glittering stars and its brightly-beaming moon, and the battle-field
upon which thousands of his subjects had this day found their death.
Then raised the hand with the pills. What was it that caused him
to hesitate? Why did his hand fall slowly down? What were his
eyes so intently gazing on?
* See note, page 87S;
A HEROIC SOUL. 341
The king was not gazing at the sky, the stars, or the moon ; but
far off into the distance, at the Austrian camp-fires. There were
the conquerors, there was Soltikow and Loudon with their armies.
The king had observed these fires before entering the hut, but their
number had now increased, a sign that the enemy had not advanced,
but was resting. How ? Was it possible that the enemy, not taking
advantage of their victory, was not following the conquered troops,
but giving them time to rally, to outmarch them, perhaps time to
reach the Spree, perhaps Berlin?
" If this is so, " said the king, answering his own thoughts, " if
the enemy neglects to give me the finishing-blow, all is not lost.
If there is a chance of salvation for my country, I must not die ; she
needs me, and it is my duty to do all in my power to retrieve the
past. "
He looked again at the camp-fires, and a bright smile played
about his lips.
"If those fires speak aright," said he, "my enemies are more
generous or more stupid than I thought, and many advantages
may still be derived from this lost battle. If so, I must return to
my old motto that 'life is a duty. ' And so long as good, honorable
work is to be done, man has no right to seek the lazy rest of the
grave. I must ascertain at once if my suspicions are correct.
Death may wait awhile. As long as there is a necessity for living,
I cannot die. "
He returned the pills to the vial and hid the casket in its former
resting-place. Then passing hastily through the room, he opened
the door. The two adjutants were sitting upon the wooden bench
in front of the hut ; both were asleep. The grenadiers were pacing
with even tread up and down before the house ; deep quiet prevailed.
The king stood at the door looking in amazement at the glorious
scene before him. He inhaled with delight the soft summer air ;
never had it seemed to him so balmy, so full of strengthening
power, and he acknowledged that never had the stars, the moon,
the sky looked as beautiful. With lively joy he felt the night-wind
toying with his hair. The king would not tire of all this ; it seemed
to him as if a friend, dead long since, mourned and bewailed, had
suddenly appeared to him beaming with health, and as if he must
open his arms and say, tt Welcome, thou returned one. Fate sepa-
rated us ; but now, as we have met, we will never leave one another,
but cling together through life and death, through good and evil
report. "
Life was the friend that appeared to Frederick, and he now felt
his great love for it. Raising his eyes in a sort of ecstasy to the
sky, he murmured, " I swear not to seek death unless at the last ex-
342 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
tremity, if, when made a prisoner, I cannot escape. I swear to
live, to suffer, so long as I am free. "
He had assumed the harness of life, and was determined to battle
bravely with it.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE TWO GRENADIERS.
SMILLNO, and with elastic step, the king advanced to meet the
two grenadiers, who stood rooted to the spot as he approached them.
"Grenadiers," said he, "why are you not with your comrades?"
" Our comrades fled, " said one.
" It is dishonorable to fly, " said the other.
The king was startled. These voices were familiar, he had
surely heard them before.
" I ought to know you, " said he ; " this is not the first time we
have spoken together. What is your name, my son?"
" Fritz Kober is my name, " said the grenadier.
"And yours?"
" Charles Henry Buschman, " said the other.
" You are not mistaken, sir king ! we have met and spoken be-
fore, but it was on a better night than this. "
"Where was it?" said the king.
"The night before the great, the glorious battle of Leuthen,"
said Fritz Kober, gravely ; " at that time, sir king, you sat at our
tent-fire and ate dumplings with us. Charles Henry knows how to
cook them so beautifully !"
" Ah ! I remember, " said the king ; " you made me pay my share
of the costs. "
" And you did so, like a true king, " said Fritz Kober. " After
ward you came back to our tent-fire, and Charles Henry Buschman
told you fairy tales ; nobody can do that so beautifully as Charles
Henry, and you slept refreshingly throughout."
"No, no, grenadier," said the king, "I did not sleep, and I can
tell you to-day all that Charles Henry related. "
"Well, what was it?" said Fritz Kober, with great delight.
The king reflected a moment, and then said, in a soft voice .
" He told of a king who was so fondly loved by a beautiful fairy,
that she changed hersel into a sword when the king went to war
and helped him to defeat his enemies. Is that it, Fritz Kober?"
" Nearly so, sir king ; I wish you had such a fairy at your side
to-day."
FREDERICK AND THE TWO GRENADIERS.
THE TWO GRENADIERS. 343
"Still, Fritz," whispered Charles Henry Buschman, "our king
does not need the help of a fairy ; our king can maintain his own
cause, and God is with his sword. "
"Do you truly believe that, my son?" said the king, deeply
moved. " Have you still this great confidence in me ? Do you still
believe that I can sustain myself and that God is with me ?"
" We have this confidence, and we will never lose it !" cried
Charles Henry, quickly. " Our enemies over there have no Frederick
to lead them on, no commander- in-chief to share with them hunger
and thirst, and danger and fatigue ; therefore they cannot love their
leaders as we do ours. "
" And then, " said Fritz Kober, thoughtfully, " I am always think-
ing that this war is like a battle of the cats and hounds. Sometimes
it looks as if the little cats would get the better of the great bull-
dogs ; they have sharp claws, and scratch the dogs in the face till
they can neither see nor hear, and must for a while give way ; they
go off, however, give themselves a good shake, and open their eyes,
and spring forward as great and strong and full of courage as ever ;
they seize upon the poor cats in the nape of the neck and bite them
deadly with their strong, powerful teeth. What care they if the cats
do scratch in the mean while ? No, no, sir king, the cats cannot
hold out to the end ; claws are neither so strong nor so lasting as
teeth."
"Yes," said the king, laughing, "but how do you know but our
foes over there are the hounds and we are the little cats?"
" What !" cried Fritz Kober, amazed, " we shall be the cats V No,
no, sir king, we are the great hounds. "
" But how can you prove this?"
"How shall I prove it?" said Fritz Kober, somewhat embarrassed.
After a short pause, he cried out, gayly, " I have it I will prove it.
Those over there are the cats because they are Russians and Austri-
ans, and do not serve a king as we do ; they have only two empresses,
two women. Now, sir king, am I not right? Women and cats, are
they not alike? So those over there are the cats and we are the bull
dogs !"
Frederick was highly amused. "Take care," said he, "that
'those over there' do not hear you liken their empresses to cats. "
" And if they are empresses, " said Fritz Kober, dryly, " they are
still women, and women are cats. "
The king looked over toward the camp-fires, which were boldly
shining on the horizon.
"How far is it from here to those fires?" said he.
"About an hour," said Charles Henry, "not more."
"One hour," repeated the king, softly. "In one hour, then, I
344 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
could know my fate ! Listen, children, which of you will go fo\
me?"
Both exclaimed in the same moment, " I will !"
"It is a fearful attempt, " said the king, earnestly ; " the Cossacks
are swarming in every direction, and if you escape them, you may
be caught in the camp and shoe as spies. "
" I will take care that they shall not recognize me as an enemy, "
said Charles Henry, quietly.
"I also," said Fritz Kober, zealously. "You stay, Charles
Henry, we dare not both leave the king. You know that only this
evening, while upon the watch, we swore that, even if the whole
army of the enemy marched against us, we would not desert our
king, but would stand at our post as long as there was a drop of
blood in our veins or a breath in our bodies. "
The king laid his hands upon the two soldiers and looked at them
with much emotion. The moon, which stood great and full in the
heavens, lighted up this curious group, and threw three long, dark
shadows over the plain.
"And you have sworn that, my children?" said the king, after
a long pause. " Ah, if all my men thought as you do we would not
have been defeated this day. "
"Sir king, your soldiers all think as we do, but fate was against
us. Just as I said, the cats outnumbered us to-day, but we will
bite them bravely for it next time. And now tell me, sir king,
what shall I do over there in the camp?"
Before the king could answer, Charles Henry laid his hand upon
his arm.
" Let me go, " said he, entreatingly ; " Fritz Kober is so daring, so
undaunted, he is not cautious ; they will certainly shoot him, and
then you have lost the best soldier in your army. "
"Your loss, I suppose, would not be felt ; the king can do with-
out you. "
" Listen, children, " said the king, " it is best that you both go ;
one can protect the other, and four ears are better than two. "
" The king is right, that is best we will both go. "
"And leave the king alone and unguarded?"
"No," said the king, pointing to the two sleepers, "I have my
two adjutants, and they will keep guard for me. Now, listen to
what I have to say to you. Over there is the enemy, and it is most
important for me to know what he is doing, and what he proposes
to do. Go, then, and listen. Their generals have certainly taken
up their quarters in the village. You must ascertain that positively,
and then draw near their quarters. You will return as quickly as
possible, and inform me of all that you hear and see. "
THE TWO GRENADIERS. 345
"Is that all?" said Fritz Kober.
"That is all. Now be off, and if you do your duty well, and
return fresh and in good order, you shall be both made officers. "
Fritz Kober laughed aloud. " No, no, sir king, we know that old
story already. "
"It is not necessary that you should promise us any thing, your
majesty, " said Charles Henry ; " we do not go for a reward, but for
respect and love to our king. "
"But tell me, Fritz Kober, why you laughed so heartily?" said
the king.
" Because this is not the first time that your majesty has promised
to make us officers. Before the battle of Leuthen, you said if we
were brave and performed valiant deeds, you would make us officers.
"Well, we were brave. Charles Henry took seven prisoners, and I
took nine ; but we are not officers. "
" You shall be to-morrow, " said the king. " Now, hasten off, and
come back as quickly as possible. "
"We will leave our muskets here, " said Charles Henry ; " we dare
not visit our enemies in Prussian array. "
They placed their arms at the house door, and then clasping each
other's hands, and making a military salute, they hastened off.
The king looked after them till their slender forms were lost in
the distance.
"With fifty thousand such soldiers I could conquer the world,"
murmured he ; " they are of the true metal. "
He turned, and stepping up to the two sleepers, touched them
lightly on the shoulders. They sprang up alarmed when they recog-
nized the king.
" You need not excuse yourselves, " said Frederick kindly, " you
have had a day of great fatigue, and are, of course, exhausted.
Come into the house, the night air is dangerous ; we will sleep here
together. "
"Where are the two grenadiers?" said Goltz.
" I have sent them off on duty. "
" Then your majesty must allow us to remain on guard. I have
slept well, and am entirely refreshed. "
"I also," said the second lieutenant. "Will your majesty I:?
pleased to sleep? we will keep guard."
"Not so," said the king, "the moon will watch over us all.
Come in."
" But it is impossible that your majesty should sleep thus, entirely
unguarded. The first Cossack that dashes by could take aim at you-
majesty through the window. "
Frederick shook his head gravely. "The ball which will strike
23
.516 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND .HIS FAMILY.
me will come from above,* and that you cannot intercept. No, it
is better to have no watch before the door ; we will not draw the
attention of troops passing by to this house. I think no one will
suppose that this miserable and ruinous barrack, through which the
wind howls, is the residence of a king. Come, then, messieurs. "
He stepped into the hut, followed by the two adjutants, who dared
no longer oppose him. " Put out that light, " said the king, " the
moon will be our torch, and will glorify our bed of straw. " He drew
his sword, and grasping it firmly in his right hand, he stretched
himself upon the straw. " There is room for both of you lie down.
Good -night, sirs."
Frederick slightly raised his three-cornered hat in greeting, and
then laid it over his face as a protection from the moonlight and the
cold night air. The adjutants laid down silently at his feet, and
soon no sound was heard in the room but the loud breathing of the
three sleepers.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE RIGHT COUNSEL.
HAND in hand the two grenadiers advanced directly toward the
battle-field. Before they could approach the enemy's camp they
must borrow two Austrian uniforms from the dead upon the plain.
It was not difficult, amongst so many dead bodies, to find two Aus-
trian officers, and the two Prussian grenadiers went quickly to work
to rob the dead and appropriate their garments.
"I don't know how it is," said Charles Henry, shuddering, "a
cold chill thrills through me when I think of putting on a coat
which I have just taken from a dead body. It seems to me the
marble dullness of the corpse will insinuate itself into my whole
body, and that I shall never be warm again. "
Fritz Kober looked up with wide-open eyes! "You have such
curious thoughts, Charles Henry, such as come to no other man ;
but you are right, it is a frosty thing. " And now he had removed
the uniform and was about to draw off his own jacket and assume
the white coat of the Austrian. " It is a great happiness, " said he,
"that we need not change our trousers, a little clearer or darker
gray can make no difference in the night."
Charles Henry was in the act of drawing on the coat of the dead
man, when Fritz Kober suddenly seized his arm and held him back.
" Stop, " said he, " you must do me a favor this coat is too narrow,
*The king's own words. See Nicolai, p. 118.
THE RIGHT COUNSEL. 347
and it pinches me fearfully ; you are thinner than I am, and I think
it will fit you exactly ; take it and give me yours." He jerked off
the coat and handed it to his friend.
" No, no, Fritz Kober, " said Charles Henry, in a voice so soft and
sweet, that Fritz was confused and bewildered by it. " No, Fritz,
I understand you fully. You have the heart of an angel ; you only
pretend that this coat is too narrow for you that you may induce
me to take the one you have already warmed. "
It was well that Fritz had his back turned to the moon, other-
wise his friend would have seen that his face was crimson ; he
blushed as if detected in some wicked act. However, he tore the
uniform away from Charles Henry rather roughly, and hastened to
put it on.
" Folly, " said he, " the coat squeezes me, that is all ! Besides, it
is not wise to fool away our time in silly talking. Let us go
onward. "
"Directly over the battle-field?" said Charles Henry, shuddering.
" Directly over the battle-field, " said Kober, " because that is the
nearest way. "
" Come, then, " said Charles, giving him his hand.
It was indeed a fearful path through which they must walk.
They passed by troops of corpses by thousands of groaning, rattling,
dying men by many severely wounded, who cried out to them
piteously for mercy and help ! Often Charles Henry hesitated and
stood still to offer consolation to the unhappy wretches, but Fritz
Kober drew him on. " We cannot help them, and we have far to
go !" Often the swarming Cossacks, dashing around on their agile
little ponies, called to them from afar off in their barbarous speech,
but when they drew near and saw the Austrian uniforms, they
passed them quietly, and were not surprised they had not given the
pass-word.
At last they passed the battle-field, and came on the open plain,
at the end of which they perceived the camp-fires of the Russians
and Austrians. The nearer they approached, the more lively was
the scene. Shouts, laughter, loud calls, and outcries from time to
time a word of command. And in the midst of this mad confusion,
here and there soldiers were running, market-women offering them
wares cheap, and exulting soldiers assembling around the camp-
tires. From time to time the regular step of the patrouille was
heard, who surrounded the camp, and kept a watchful eye in every
direction.
Arm in arm they passed steadily around the camp. "One thing
I know, " whispered Fritz Kober, " they have no thought of march
ing. They will pass a quiet, peaceful night by their camp-fires. "
348 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"I agree with you," said Charles Henry, "but let us go forward
and listen a little ; perhaps we can learn where the generals are
quartered. "
" Look, look ! it must be there, " said Fritz Kober, hastily.
"There are no camp-fires ; but there is a brilliant light in the peas-
ants' huts, and it appears to me that I see a guard before the doors.
These, certainly, are the headquarters. "
" Let us go there, then, " said Charles Henry ; " but we must ap-
proach the houses from behind, and thus avoid the guard. "
They moved cautiously around, and drew near the houses. Pro-
found quiet reigned in this neighborhood ; it was the reverence of
subordination the effect which the presence of superior officers
ever exercises upon their men. Here stood groups of officers, lightly
whispering together there soldiers were leading their masters'
horses ; not far off orderlies were waiting on horseback sentinels
with shouldered arms were going slowly by. The attention of all
seemed to be fixed upon the two small houses, and every glance and
every ear was turned eagerly toward the brilliantly lighted win-
dows.
"We have hit the mark exactly, " whispered Fritz Kober ; he had
succeeded with his friend in forcing his way into the little alley
which separated the two houses. "We have now reached the head-
quarters of the generals. Look ! there is an Austrian sentinel with
his bear's cap. Both the Austrian and Russian generals are here."
"Let us watch the Russians a little through the window," said
Charles Henry, slipping forward.
They reached the corner, and were hidden by the trunk of a tree
which overshadowed the huts. Suddenly they heard the word of
command, and there was a general movement among the files of
soldiers assembled about the square. The officers placed themselves
in rank, the soldiers presented arms ; for, at this moment, the Aus-
trian General Loudon, surrounded by his staff, stepped from one of
the small houses into the square. The Cossacks, who were crouched
down on the earth before the door, raised themselves, and also pre-
sented arms.
While Loudon stood waiting, the two Prussian grenadiers slipped
slyly to the other hut.
" Let us go behind, " whispered Charles Henry. " There are no
sentinels there, and perhaps we may find a door, and get into the
house. "
Behind the hut was a little garden whose thick shrubs and bushes
gave complete concealment to the two grenadiers. Noiselessly they
sprang over the little fence, and made a reconnoissance of the ter-
rain unseen, unnoticed, they drew near the house. As they stepped
THE RIGHT COUNSEL. 349
from behind the bushes, Fritz Kober seized his friend's arm, and
with difficulty suppressed a cry of joy.
The scene which was presented to them was well calculated to
rejoice the hearts of brave soldiers. They had reached the goal, and
might now hope to fulfil the wishes of their king. The quarters of
the Russian general were plainly exposed to them. In this great
room, which was evidently the ball-room of the village, at a loug
oak-table, in the middle of the room, sat General Soltikow, and
around him sat and stood the generals and officers. At the door,
half a dozen Cossacks were crouching, staring sleepily on the ground.
The room was brilliantly illuminated with wax-lights, and gave the
two grenadiers an opportunity of seeing it in every part. Fate
appeared to favor them in every way, and gave them an opportunity
to hear as well as see. The window on the garden was opened to
give entrance to the cool night air, and near it there was a thick
branch of a tree in which a man could conceal himself.
" Look there, " said Charles Henry, " I will hide in that tree. We
will make our observations from different stand-points. Perhaps
one of us may see what escapes the other. Let us attend closely,
that we may tell all to our king. "
No man in this room guessed that in the silent little garden four
flashing eyes were observing all that passed.
At the table sat the Russian commander- in -chief, surrounded by
his generals and officers. Before him lay letters, maps, and plans,
at which he gazed from time to time, while he dictated an account
of the battle to the officer sitting near him, Soltikow was preparing
a dispatch for the Empress Elizabeth. A few steps farther off, in
stiff military bearing, stood the officers who were giving in their
reports, and whose statements brought a dark cloud to the brow of
the victorious commander. Turning with a hasty movement of the
head to the small man with the gold-embroidered uniform and the
stiffly-frizzed wig, he said
"Did you hear that, sir marquis? Ten thousand of my brave
soldiers lie dead upon the battle-field, and as many more are severely
wounded. "
" It follows then, " said the Marquis Montalembert, the French
commissioner between the courts of Vienna, Petersburg, and Paris,
" it follows then, that the king of Prussia has forty thousand dead
and wounded, and, consequently, his little army is utterly de-
stroyed. "
"Who knows?" said Soltikow; "the king of Prussia is accus-
tomed to sell his defeats dearly. I should not be at all surprised if
he had lost fewer soldiers than we have. "*
* Soltikow 'a own words. See Archenholtz, p. 206.
350 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Well, I think he has now nothing more to lose, " said the mar-
quis, laughing ; " it rests with you to give the last coup de grdce to
this conquered and flying king, and forever prevent "
The entrance of an officer interrupted him. The officer announced
General von Loudon.
Solitkow arose, and advanced to the door to welcome the Aus-
trian general. A proud smile was on his face as he gave his hand
to Loudon ; he did this with the air of a gracious superior who
wished to be benevolent to his subordinate.
The quick, firm glance of Loudon seemed to read the haughty
heart of his ally, and, no doubt for this reason, he scarcely touched
Soltikow's hand. With erect head and proud step he advanced into
the middle of the room.
" I resolved to come to your excellency, " said Loudon, in a sharp,
excited tone ; " you have a large room, while in my hut I could
scarcely find accommodation for you and your adjutants."
"You come exactly at the right hour," said Soltikow. with a
haughty smile ; " you see, we were about to hold a council of war,
and consider what remains to be done. "
A dark and scornful expression was seen in Loudon 's counte
nance, and his eyes rested fiercely upon the smiling face of Soltikow.
" Impossible, general ! you could not have held a council of war
without me, " said he, angrily.
"Oh, be composed, general," said Soltikow, smiling, "I would,
without doubt, have informed you immediately of our conclusions. "
" I suppose you could not possibly have come to any conclusion
in my absence, " said Loudon, the veins in whose forehead began
to swell.
Soltikow bowed low, wth the same unchanged and insolent smile.
" Let us not dispute about things which have not yet taken place,
your excellency. The council of war had not commenced, but now
that you are here, we may begin. Allow me, however, first to sign
these dispatches which I have written to my gracious sovereign,
announcing the victoiy which the Russian troops have this day
achieved over the army of the King of Prussia. "
" Ah, general, this time I am in advance of you, " cried Loudon
"the dispatches are already sent off in which I announced to my
empress the victory which the Austrian troops gained over the
Prussians. "
Soltikow threw his head back scornfully, and his little gray eyes
flashed at the Austrian.
Loudon went on, calmly : " I assure your excellency that enthu-
siasm at our glorious victory has made me eloquent. I pictured to
my empress the picturesque moment in which the conquering Prus
THE RIGHT COUNSEL. 351
sians were rushing forward to take possession of the batteries de-
serted by the flying Russians, at which time the Austrian horsemen
sprang, as it were, from the ground, checked the conquerors, and
forced them back ; and by deeds of lionlike courage changed the
fate of the day. "
While Loudon, seeming entirely cool and careless, thus spoke,
the face of the Russian general was lurid with rage. Panting for
breath, he pressed his doubled fist upon the table.
Every one looked at him in breathless excitement and horror-
all knew his passionate and unrestrained rage. But the Marquis
Montalembert hastened to prevent this outburst of passion, and be-
fore Soltikow found breath to speak, he turned with a gay and con-
ciliating expression to Loudon.
"If you have painted the battle of to-day so much in detail,"
said he, "you have certainly not forgotten to depict the gallant con-
duct of the Russian troops to describe that truly exalted movement,
when the Russians threw themselves to the earth, as if dead, before
advancing columns of the Prussian army, and allowed them to pass
over them ; then, springing up, shot them in the back . " *
"Certainly I did not forget that," said Loudon, whose noble,
generous heart already repented his momentary passion and jeal-
ousy ; "certainly, I am not so cowardly and so unconscionable as
to deny the weighty share which the Russian army merit in the
honor of this day ; but you can well understand that I will not allow
the gallant deeds of the Austrians to be swept away. We have
fought together and conquered together, and now let us rejoice to-
gether over the glorious result. "
Loudon gave his hand to Soltikow with so friendly an expression
that he could not withstand it. "You are right, Loudon ; we will
rejoice together over this great victory," cried he. "Wine, here!
We will first drink a glass in honor of the triumph of the day ; then
we will empty a glass of your beautiful Rhine wine to the friend-
ship of the Austrians and Russians. Wine here ! The night is long
enough for council ; let us first celebrate our victory."
The Cossacks, at a sign from the adjutants, sprang from the floor
and drew from a corner of the room a number of bottles and silver
cups, which they hastened to place upon the table. The secretaries
moved the papers, maps, etc. : and the table, which a moment be
fore had quite a business like aspect, was now changed into an
enticing buffet.
Soltikow looked on enraptured, but the marquis cast an anxious
and significant look upon the Austrian general, which was answered
with a slight shrug of the shoulders. Both knew that the brave
* Archenholtz, Seven Years' War, p. 867.
352 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
General Soltikow, next to the thunder of cannon and the mad whirl
of battle, loved nothing so well as the springing of corks and the
odor of wine. Both knew that the general was as valiant and un-
conquerable a soldier as he was a valiant and unconquerable drinker
who was most apt while drinking to forget every thing else but
the gladness of the moment. The marquis tried to make another
weak attempt to remind him of more earnest duties.
"Look you, your excellency, your secretaries appear very melan-
choly. Will you not first hold a council of war? and we can then
give ourselves undisturbed to joy and enjoyment. "
"Why is a council of war necessary?" said Soltikow, sinking
down into a chair and handing his cup to the Cossack behind him
to be filled for the second time. " Away with business and scrib-
bling ! The dispatches to my empress are completed ; seal them,
Pietrowitch, and send the courier off immediately ; everything else
can wait till morning. Come, generals, let us strike our glasses tc
the healths of our exalted sovereigns. "
Loudou took the cup and drank a brave pledge, then when he had
emptied the glass he said : " We should not be satisfied with sending
our exalted sovereigns the news of the day's victory it lies in pur
hands to inform them of the complete and irrevocable defeat of the
enemy. "
"How so?" said Soltikow, filling up his cup for the third
time.
"If now, in place of enjoying this comfortable rest, and giving
our enemy time to recover himself, we should follow up the Prus-
sians and cut off the king's retreat, preventing him from taking
possession of his old camp at Reutven, we would then be in a con-
dition to crush him completely and put an end to this war. "
" Ah, you mean that we should break up the camp at once, " said
Soltikow ; " that we should not grant to our poor, exhausted soldiers
a single hour of sleep, but lead them out again to battle and to
death? No, no, sir general; the blood of my brave Russians is
worth as much as the blood of other men, and I will not make of
them a wall behind which the noble Dutclnnen place themselves in
comfortable security, while we offer up for them our blood and our
life. I think we Russians have done enough ; we do not need
another victory to prove that we are brave. When I fight another
such battle as I have fought to-day, with my staff in my hand and
alone I must carry the news to Petersburg, for I shall have no sol-
diers left.* I have nothing to say against you, General Loudon.
You have been a faithful ally ; we have fought, bled, and conquered
together, although not protected by a consecrated hat and sword like
"Frederick the Great. " Geschow, p. 200.
THE RIGHT COUNSEL. 353
Field-Marshal Daun, who ever demands new victories from us while
he himself is undecided and completely inactive. "
"Your excellency seems to be somewhat embittered against
Daun, " said Loudon, with a smile he could not wholly suppress.
"Yes," said Soltikow, "I am embittered against this modern
Fabius Cunctator, who finds it so easy to become renowned who
remains in Vienna and reaps the harvest which belongs rightly to
you, General Loudon. You act, while he hesitates you are full of
energy and ever ready for the strife ; Daun is dilatory, and while
he is resolving whether to strike or not, the opportunity is lost. "
"The empress, my exalted sovereign, has honored him with her
especial confidence, " said Loudon ; " he must therefore merit it. "
" Yes ; and in Vienna they have honored you and myself with
their especial distrust, " said Soltikow, stormily, and swallowing a
full cup of wine. " You, I know, receive rare and scanty praise ;
eulogies must be reserved for Daun. We are regarded with inimi-
cal and jealous eyes, and our zeal and our good- will are forever
suspected."
"This is true," said Loudon, smiling; "it is difficult for us to
believe in the sincere friendship of the Russians, perhaps, because
we so earnestly desire it. "
"Words, words!" said Soltikow, angrily. "The German has
ever a secret aversion to the Russian you look upon us as disguised
tigers, ever ready to rob and devour your glorious culture and
accomplishments. For this reason you gladly place a glass shade
over yourselves when we are in your neighborhood, and show us
your glory through a transparent wall that we may admire and envy.
When you are living in peace and harmony, you avoid us sedulously ;
then the German finds himself entirely too educated, too refined,
for the barbaric Russian. But when you quarrel and strive with
each other, and cannot lay the storm, then you suddenly remember
that the Russian is your neighbor and friend, that he wields a good
sword, and knows how to hew away with it right and left. You
call lustily on him for help, and offer him your friendship that
means, just so long as hostilities endure and you have use for us.
Even when you call us your friends you distrust us and suspect our
good-will. Constant charges are brought against us in Vienna.
Spresain languishes in chains Austria charges him with treachery
and want of zeal in the good cause ; Fermor and Butterlin are also
accused of great crimes they have sought to make both their sin-
cerity and ability suspected by the empress, and to bring them into
reproach. This they have not deserved. I know, also, that they
have charged me with disinclination to assist the allies they de-
clare that I have no ardor for the common cause. This makes bad
354 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
blood, messieurs ; and if it were not for the excellent wine in your
beautiful Germany, I doubt if our friendship would stand upoa a
sure footing. Therefore, sir general, take your cup and let us drink
together drink this glorious wine to the health of our friendship.
Make your glasses ring, messieurs, and that the general may see
that we mean honorably with our toast, empty them at a draught. "
They all accepted the challenge and emptied a cup of the old,
fiery Rhine wine, which Soltikow so dearly loved ; their eyes flashed,
their cheeks were glowing.
Loudon saw this with horror, and he cast an anxious glance at
Montalembert, who returned it with a significant shrug of the
shoulder.
" And now, your excellency, " said Loudon, " that we have en-
joyed the German wine, let us think a little of Germany and the
enemy who can no longer disturb her peace, if we act promptly.
Our troops have had some hours' rest, and will now be in a condi-
tion to advance. "
" Always the same old song, " said Soltikow, laughing ; " but I
shall not be waked up from my comfortable quarters ; I have done
enough ! my troops also. "
"I have just received a courier from Daun, " said Loudon, softly ;
" he makes it my duty to entreat your excellency to follow up our
victory and crush the enemy completely. "
" That will be easy work, " said Montalembert, in a flattering
tone. " The army of the King of Prussia is scattered and flying in
every direction ; they must be prevented from reassembling ; the
scattering troops must be harassed and more widely separated, and
every possibility of retreat cut off for Frederick."
" Well, well, if that must be, " said Soltikow, apathetically, plac-
ing the cup just filled with wine to his lips, "let Field-Marshal
Daun undertake the duty. I have won two battles ; I will wait and
rest ; I make no other movements till I hear of two victories won by
Daun. It is not reasonable or just for the troops of my empress to
act alone. " *
" But, " said the Marquis Montalembert, giving himself the ap-
pearance of wishing not to be heard by Loudon, " if your excellency
now remains inactive and does not press forward vigorously, the
Austrians alone will reap the fruits of your victory. "
" I am not at all disposed to be jealous, " said Soltikow, laughing ;
" from my heart I wish the Austrians more success than I have had.
For my part, I have done enough, f Fill your glasses, messieurs,
fill your glasses ! We have won a few hours of happiness from the
* Soltikow's own words. See Archenholtz, p. 266.
t Historical.
THE RIGHT COUNSEL. 355
goddess Bellona ; let us enjoy them and forget all our cares. Let us
drink once more, gentlemen. Long live our charming mistress,
the Empress Elizabeth !" The Russian officers clanged their glasses
and chimed in zealously, and the fragrant Rhine wine bubbled like
foaming gold in the silver cups. Soltikow swallowed it with ever-
increasing delight, and he became more and more animated.
The officers sat round the table with glowing cheeks and listened
to their worshipped general who, in innocent gayety, related some
scenes from his youth, and made his hearers laugh so loud, so rap-
turously, that the walls trembled, and Fritz Kober, who was crouch-
ing down in the bushes, could with difficulty prevent himself from
joining in heartily.
The gayety of the Russians became more impetuous and un-
bridled. They dreamed of their home ; here and there they be-
gan to sing Russian love- songs. The Cossacks, on the floor, grinned
with delight and hummed lightly the refrain.
The wine began to exercise its freedom and equality principles
upon the heart, and all difference of rank was forgotten. Every
countenance beamed with delight ; every man laughed and jested,
sang and drank. No one thought of the King of Prussia and his
scattered army ; they remembered the victory they had achieved,
but the fragrant wine banished the remembrance of the conquered.*
Montalembert and Loudon took no part in the general mirth.
They had left the table, and from an open window watched the wild
and frenzied group.
" It is in vain, " whispered Loudon, " we cannot influence him.
The German wine lies nearer his heart than his German allies. "
" But you, general, you should do what Soltikow omits or neglects.
You should draw your own advantage from this tardiness of the
Russian general, and pursue and crush the King of Prussia. "
" I would not be here now, " said Loudon, painfully, " if I could
do that. My hands are bound. I dare not undertake any thing to
which the allies do not agree ; we can only act in concert. "
A loud roar of laughter from the table silenced the two gentle-
men. Soltikow had just related a merry anecdote, which made the
Cossacks laugh aloud. One of the Russian generals rewarded them
by throwing them two tallow-candles. This dainty little delicacy
was received by them with joyful shouts.
"Let us withdraw," whispered Montalembert, "the scene be-
comes too Russian. "
" Yes, let us go, " sighed Loudon ; " if we must remain here in-
active, we can at least employ the time in sleep. "
No one remarked the withdrawal of the two gentlemen. The
See Prussia; Frederick the Great. Gebfcard, p. 78,
356 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
gay laughter, the drinking and singing went on undisturbed, and
soon became a scene of wild and druken confusion.
"We can now also withdraw," whispered Charles Henry to Fritz
Kober. " Come, come ! you know we are expected. "
With every possible caution, they hastened away, and only after
they had left the camp of the Russians and Austrians far behind
them, and passed again over the battle-field did Fritz Kober break
silence. "Well," said he, sighing, "what have we to say to the
king?"
" All that we have heard, " said Charles Henry.
" Yes, but we have heard nothing, " murmured Fritz. " I opened
my ears as wide as possible, but it was all in vain. Is it not base
and vile to come to Germany and speak this gibberish, not a word
of which can be understood? In Germany men should be obliged to
speak German, and not Russian. "
" They did not speak Russian, but French, " said Charles Henry ;
" I understood it all. "
Fritz Kober stopped suddenly, and stared at his friend. " You
say you understood French?"
" Yes, I was at home on the French borders. My mother was
from Alsace, and there I learned French. "
"You understand every thing," murmured Fritz, "but for my-
self, I am a poor stupid blockhead, and the king will laugh at me,
for I have nothing to tell. I shall not get my commission. "
" Then neither will I, Fritz ; and, besides, as to what we have
seen, you have as much to tell as I. You heard with your eyes and
I with my ears, and the great point arrived at you know as much
about as I do. The Russians and Austrians are sleeping quietly,
not thinking of pursuing us. That's the principal point."
"Yes, that's true; that I can also assure the king that will
please him best. Look ! Charles Henry, the day is breaking ! Let
us hasten on to the king. When he knows that the Austrians and
Russians sleep, he will think it high time for the Prussians to be
awake. "
CHAPTER XV.
A HERO IN MISFORTUNE.
THE two grenadiers returned unharmed to the village where the
king had at present established his headquarters. The first rays of
the morning sun were falling upon the wretched hut which was
occupied by his majesty. The peaceful morning quiet was unbroken
by the faintest sound, and, as if Nature had a certain reverence for
the hero's slumber, even the birds were hushed, and the morning
A HERO IN MISFORTUNE. 357
breeze blew softly against the little window, as if it would murmur
a sleeping song to the king. There were no sentinels before the
door ; the bright morning sun alone was guarding the holy place
where the unfortunate hero reposed.
Lightly, and with bated breath, the two grenadiers crept into the
open hut. The utter silence disturbed them. It seemed incredible
that they should find the king in this miserable place, alone and
unguarded. They thought of the hordes of Cossacks which infested
that region, and that a dozen of them would suffice to surround this
little hut, and make prisoners of the king and his adjutants.
"I have not the courage to open the door," whispered Fritz
Kober. " I fear that the king is no longer here. The Cossacks have
captured him. "
" God has not permitted that, " said Charles Henry, solemnly ; " I
believe that He has guarded the king in our absence. Come, we
will go to his majesty. "
They opened the door and entered, and then both stood motion-
less, awed and arrested by what they beheld.
There, on the straw that was scantily scattered on the dirty floor,
lay the king, his hat drawn partially over his face, his unsheathed
sword in his hand, sleeping as quietly as if he were at his bright
and beautiful Sans-Souci.
" Look !" whispered Charles Henry ; " thus sleeps a king, over
whom God watches ! But now we must awaken him. "
He advanced .to the king, and kneeling beside him, whispered :
" Your majesty, we have returned ; we bring intelligence of the
Russians and Austrians. "
The king arose slowly, and pushed his hat back from his brow.
"Good or bad news?" he asked.
"Good news!" said Fritz. "The Austrians and Russians have
both gone to bed ; they were sleepy. "
" And they have no idea of pursuing your majesty, " continued
Charles Henry. " Loudon wished it, but Soltikow refused ; he will
do nothing until Daun acts. "
"So you sat with them in the council of war?" asked the king,
smiling.
"Yes, we were present," said Fritz Kober, with evident delight ;
" I saw the council, and Charles Henry heard them. "
The king stood up. "You speak too loud!" he said ; "you will
waken these two gentlemen, who are sleeping so well. We will go
outside, and you can continue your report. "
He crossed the room noiselessly, and left the hut. Then seating
himself before the door, on a small bench, he told the two grena-
diers to give him an exact account of what they had seen and heard.
Lone after they had finished speaking, the king sat silent, and
358 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
apparently lost in thought. His eyes raised to heaven, he seemed to
be in holy communion with the Almighty. As his eyes slowly
sank, his glance fell upon the two grenadiers who stood before him,
silently respectful.
"I am pleased with you, children, and this time the promise
shall be kept. You shall become subordinate officers. "
" In the same company ?" asked Fritz Kober.
" In the same company. That is, " continued the king, " if I
am ever able to form companies and regiments again. "
"We are not so badly off as your majesty thinks," said Fritz
Kober. " Our troops have already recovered from their first terror,
and as we returned we saw numbers of them entering the village.
In a few hours the army can be reorganized. "
"God grant that you may be right, my son!" said the king,
kindly. "Go, now, into the village, and repeat the news you
brought me to the soldiers. It will encourage them to hear that the
enemy sleep, and do not think of pursuing us. I will prepare your
commissions for you to-day. Farewell, my children !"
He bent his head slightly, and then turned to reenter the hut and
awaken his two adjutants. With a calm voice he commanded them
to go into the village, and order the generals and higher officers to
assemble the remnants of their regiments before the hut.
" A general march must be sounded, " said the king. " The morn-
ing air will bear the sound into the distance, and when my soldiers
hear it, perhaps they will return to their colors. "
When the adjutants left him, the king commenced pacing slowly
up and down, his hands crossed behind him.
" All is lost, all 1" he murmured ; " but I must wait and watch.
If the stupidity or rashness of the enemy should break a mesh in the
net within which I am enclosed, it is my duty to slip through with
my army. Ah ! how heavily this crown presses upon my head ; it
leaves me no moment of repose. How hard is life, and how terribly
are the bright illusions of our earlier years destroyed !"
At the sound of the drum, the king shivered, and murmured to
himself : " I feel now, what I never thought to feel. I am afraid
my heart trembles at the thought of this encounter, as it never did
in battle. The drums and trumpets call my soldiers, but they will
not come. They are stretched upon the field of battle, or fleeing
before the enemy. They will not come, and the sun will witness
my shame and wretchedness. "
The king, completely overcome, sank upon the bench, and buried
his face in his hands. He sat thus for a long time. The sounds
before the door became louder and louder, but the king heard them
not ; he still held his hands before his face. He could not see the
bright array of uniforms that had assembled before the window,
A HERO IN MISFORTUNE. 359
nor that the soldiers were swarming in from all sides. He did not
hear the beating of drums, the orders to the soldiers, or military
signals. Neither did he hear the door, which was gently opened by
his adjutants, who had returned to inform him that his orders had
been obeyed, and that the generals and staff officers were awaiting
him outside the hut.
"Sire," whispered at length one of the adjutants, "your com-
mands have been fulfilled. The generals await your majesty's
pleasure. "
The king allowed his hands to glide slowly from his face. " And
the troops?" he asked.
" They are beginning to form. "
" They are also just placing the cannon, " said the second adjutant.
The king turned angrily to him. "Sir," he cried, "you lie! I
have no cannon. "
" Your majesty has, God be praised, more than fifty cannon, " said
the adjutant, firmly.
A ray of light overspread the countenance of the king, and a
slight flush arose to his pale cheek. Standing up, he bowed kindly
to the adjutants, and passed out among the generals, who saluted
him respectfully, and pressed back to make way for their king.
The king walked silently through their ranks, and then turning his
head, he said :
"Gentlemen, let us see what yesterday has left us. Assemble
your troops. "
The generals and staff officers hurried silently away, to place
themselves at the head of their regiments, and lead them before the
king.
The king stood upright, his unsheathed sword in his right hand,
as in the most ceremonious parade. The marching of the troops be-
gan, but it was a sad spectacle for their king. How little was left
of the great and glorious army which he had led yesterday to battle !
More than twenty thousand men were either killed or wounded.
Thousands were flying and scattered. A few regiments had been
formed with great trouble ; barely five thousand men were now
assembled. The king looked on with a firm eye, but his lips were
tightly compressed, and his breath came heavily. Suddenly he
turned to Count Dolmer, the adjutant of the Grand Duke Ferdinand
of Brunswick, who had arrived a few days before with the intelli-
gence of a victory gained at Minden. The king had invited him to
remain. "lam about to overpower the Russians; remain until I
can give you a like message. " The king was reminded of this as he
saw the count near him.
"Ah," he said, with a troubled smile, "you are waiting for the
message I promised. I am distressed that I cannot make you the
360 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
bearer of better news. If, however, you arrive safely at the end of
your journey, and do not find Daun already in Berlin, and Contades
in Magdeburg, you can assure the Grand Duke Ferdinand from me
that all is not lost. Farewell, sir. "
Then, bowing slightly, he advanced with a firm step to the gen-
erals. His eyes glowed and flashed once more, and his whole being
reassumed its usual bold and energetic expression.
" Gentlemen, " he said, in a clear voice, "fortune did not favor
us yesterday, but there is no reason to despair. A day will come
when we shall repay the enemy with bloody interest. I at least ex-
pect such a day ; I will live for its coming, and all my thoughts and
plans shall be directed toward that object. I strive for no other
glory than to deliver Prussia from the conspiracy into which the
whole of Europe has entered against her. I will obtain peace for
my native land, but it shall be a great and honorable peace. I will
accept no other ; I would rather be buried under the ruins of my
cannon, than accept a peace that would bring no advantages to
Prussia, no fame to us. Honor is the highest, the holiest possession
of individuals, as it is of nations ; and Prussia, who has placed
her honor in our hands, must receive it from us pure and spotless.
If you agree with me, gentlemen, join me in this cry, ' Long live
Prussia ! Long live Prussia's honor !' "
The generals and officers joined enthusiastically in this cry, and
like a mighty torrent it spread from mouth to mouth, until it
reached the regiments, where it was repeated again and again. The
color-bearers unfurled their tattered banners, and the shout arose
from thousands of throats, "Long live Prussia's honor !"
The king's countenance was bright, but a tear seemed to glitter
in his eye. He raised his glance to heaven and murmured :
" I swear to live so long as there is hope, so long as I am free ! I
swear only to think of death when my liberty is threatened."
Slowly his glance returned to earth, and then in a powerful voice,
he cried : "Onward! onward! that has ever been Prussia's watch-
word, and it shall remain so Onward ! We have a great object be
fore us we must use every effort to keep the Russians out of Berlin.
The palladium of our happiness must not fall into the hands of out
enemies. The Oder and the Spree must be ours we must recover
to-morrow what the enemy wrenched from us yesterday !"
" Onward ! onward !" cried the army, and the words of the king
bore courage and enthusiasm to all hearts.
Hope was awakened, and all were ready to follow the king ; for
however dark and threatening the horizon appeared, all had faith
in the star of the king, and believed that it could never be extin-
guished.
BOOK V.
CHAPTER I.
THE TERESIANI AND THE PRUSSIAN!.
AT the splendid hotel of the "White Lion," situated on the
Canale Grande, a gondola had just arrived. The porter sounded
the great house-bell, and the host hastened immediately to greet the
stranger, who, having left the gondola, was briskly mounting the
small white marble steps that led to the beautiful and sumptuous
vestibule of the hotel.
The stranger returned the host's profound and respectful saluta-
tion with a stiff military bow, and asked in forced and rather
foreign Italian if he could obtain rooms.
Signer Montardo gazed at him with a doubtful and uncertain
expression, and instead of answering his question, said :
"Signor, it appears to me that you are a foreigner?"
" Yes, " said the stranger, smiling, " my Italian has betrayed me.
I am a foreigner, but hope that will not prevent your showing me
comfortable and agreeable rooms. "
" Certainly not, signer ; our most elegant and sumptuous apart-
ment is at your command," said the host, with a flattering smile.
In the mean time, however, he did not move from the spot, but
gazed with confused and anxious countenance first at the stranger,
and then at his large trunk, which the men were just lifting from
the gondola.
"Will you please show me the rooms?" -cried the stranger, impa-
tiently advancing into the hall.
The host sighed deeply, and threw a questioning glance at the
head waiter, who returned it with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I will first show you into the dining-saloon, " murmured the
host, hastening after the stranger. " Will you please step in here,
excellency?" and with humble submission he opened the large fold-
ing doors before which they stood, and conducted the stranger into
the magnificent saloon which served as dining-saloon and ball-room.
" Now, excellency, " continued the host, after he closed the door, and
had convinced himself by a rapid glance that they were alone.
24
362 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" forgive my curiosity in asking you two questions before I have the
honor of showing you your rooms. How long do you intend to re-
main here?"
" A few days, sir. Well, your second question ?"
The host hesitated a moment ; then looking down, he said :
"Your excellency is a German?"
" Yes, a German, " said the stranger, impatiently.
" I thought so, " sighed the host.
"Will you show me my rooms or not? Decide quickly, for I
know there are other handsome hotels on the Canale Grande where
I would be willingly received. "
The host bowed with an aggrieved expression. " Signor, I will
show you rooms. Will you have the kindness to follow me ?"
Like one who had come to a desperate decision, he advanced and
pushed open a door which led to a long passage, with rooms on each
side ; he passed them all hastily, and entered a small, dark, side-
passage, which was little in keeping with the general elegance of
the building ; the walls were not covered with tapestry, as those of
the large halls, but with dirty whitewash ; the floor had no carpet,
and the doors of the rooms were low and small.
The host opened one of them and led the stranger into a small,
simply -furnished room, with a little dark closet containing a bed.
"Signor," he said, with a profound bow, "these are, unfortu-
nately, the only two rooms I can offer you. "
" They are small and mean, " said the stranger, angrily.
" They are quiet and remote, and you will have the advantage of
not being disturbed by the ball which the club of the Prussiani are
to hold in my grand saloon to-night. "
As he finished, he looked at the stranger hastily and searchingly,
to see what impression his words had upon him. He was decidedly
astonished and confused.
"The Prussian Club?" he said. "Are there so many Prussians
here, and are they to celebrate a gay feast when it appears to me
they have every reason to mourn for their king's misfortune?"
It was now the stranger who gazed searchingly at the host, and
awaited his answer with impatience.
"You ask if there are many Prussians here?" said the host, pa-
thetically. " Yes, there are a great many in la bella Venezia, eccel-
lenza, chi non e buon Prussiano, non e buon Veneziano. You say
further, that the Prussians have no reason to celebrate a festival,
but should mourn for their king's misfortunes. No, your excel-
lency, the Prussians will never have reason to despair, for a hero
like the great Frederick can never succumb. His sun is clouded for
a moment, but it will burst forth again brilliant and triumphant,
THE TERESIANI AND THE PRUSSIAN!. 363
and blind all his enemies. The Prussians celebrate this feast to
defy the Teresiani. They have their club at the hotel of the ' Golden
Fleece, ' and held a grand ball there yesterday in honor of their vic-
tory at Mayen. 'Tis true the king has lost two battles, the battles of
Kiinersdorf and Mayen, but the Prussians do not despair ; for if the
king has lost two battles, he will win four to make up for them, and
the Austrians, French, and Russians will flee before him, as they
did at Zorndorf and Rossbach. The Prussians wish to celebrate
this feast te convince the Teresiani that they are not disturbed by
the king's apparent misfortune, and are now celebrating the victo-
ries that their great king is still to achieve. "
The stranger's face beamed with delight. " The Prussians have
great confidence in their king, " he said, with forced composure ;
" but you have not yet told me why so many Prussians are stopping
here?"
The host laughed. " Signor does not occupy himself with poli-
tics?"
" No, " answered the stranger, with hesitation.
" Well, otherwise you would have known that there are many
Prussians in the world, and that all the world takes an interest in
this war in which a single hero battles against so many powerful
enemies. Yes, yes, there are Prussians in all Europe, and the great
Frederick is joyfully welcomed everywhere ; but nowhere more joy-
fully than in our beautiful Italy ; and nowhere in Italy is he more
welcomed than in our beautiful Venice. The nobles and the gondo-
liers decide for or against, and Venice is divided into two great
parties : the first for the King of Prussia, the latter for the Austrian
empress, Maria Theresa. But I assure you the Teresiani are mean
and despicable, bought enthusiasts, and cowardly fools."
" Consequently, you do not belong to them, signor," said the
stranger, smiling ; " you are a good Prussiano. "
" I should think so, " cried the host, proudly ; " I am a good pa-
triot, and our watchword is, ' Chi non e buon Prussiano, non e buon
Veneziano. ' "
" If that is so, " cried the stranger, gayly, as he kindly offered the
host his hand, " I congratulate myself for having stopped here, and
these small, mean rooms will not prevent my remaining. I also am
a Prussian, and say, like yourself, what care we for the battles of
Kunersdorf and Mayen ? Frederick the Great will still triumph over
his enemies."
" Ah, signor, you are a Prussian I" cried the host, with a true
Italian burst of joy. "You are heartily welcome at my hotel, and
be convinced, sir, that I shall do every thing to deserve your ap-
proval. Come, sir, these rooms are too small, too mean, for a fol-
364 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
lower of Frederick ; I shall have the honor of showing you two beau-
tiful rooms on the first floor, with a view of the Canale Grande, and
you shall pay no more for them. Follow me, sir, and pardon me
that you were not at once worthily served. I did not know you
were a Prussiano, and it would have been most dangerous and im-
politic to have received a stranger who might have been a Teresiano ;
it might have deprived me of all the Prussian custom. Have the
goodness to follow me. "
He stepped forward briskly, and conducted the stranger across
the passage through the grand saloon into the hall. The head waiter
was standing there engaged in an excited conversation with the
gondoliers who, having placed the traveller's trunk in the hall, were
cursing and crying aloud for their money. While the waiter was
assuring them, that it was not decided whether the stranger would
remain with them or not, and perhaps they would have to carry his
trunk farther, the host nodded smilingly at the head waiter and
said, proudly, " His excellency is not only a German, but a Prus-
sian. "
The clouded faces of the waiters and gondoliers cleared immedi-
ately, and they gazed at the traveller with a significant smile as he
mounted the splendid steps with the host.
" He is a Prussian !" cried the waiters. " Emiva il Re di Prus-
sia ! " cried the gondoliers, as they raised the trunk and carried it
nimbly up the steps.
The saloon into which the host conducted his guest was certainly
different from the small, unclean rooms he had shown him before.
All was elegance, and with a feeling of pride he led the stranger to
the balcony which offered a splendid view of the imposing and
glorious Canale Grande, with its proud churches and palaces.
" And now, signor, " said the host, humbly, " command me. If
I can serve you in any manner, I shall do so with pleasure. Any
information you desire, I am ready to give. Perhaps your excel-
lency has ?"
"No, "said the stranger, quickly, "I have no political mission,
and my letter to the prior is of a very innocent nature. I am a
merchant, and by chance have become possessed of several costly
relics, and hope that the prior of the cloister may purchase them."
" Ah, relics, " said the host, with a contemptuous shrug of his
shoulders ; " do you know, sir, that no one now is enthusiastic about
such things? Politics leave us no time for piety ; the Pope has lost
his influence, and even the Romans are good Prussiani, and care
not for Frederick the Great being a heretic. The Pope blesses his
enemies and celebrates their victories with brilliant masses and
costly presents. The Romans are indifferent to all this, and pray
THE TERESIANI AND THE PRUSSIANI. 365
for their hero-king, the Great Frederick, and in spite of the Pope
desire him to triumph."
"Ah," said the traveller, with apparent sadness, "then I shall
certainly not succeed with my relics, but I hope I shall do better in
the city with my fans ; for them I desire your advice. Will you
please tell me the names of a few large commercial houses where
they might buy some of my beautiful fans ? But they must be good
Prussiani, as you will soon see. " He stepped to his trunk, unlocked
it, and took from it an etui containing a number of fans.
"Look here, sir. I saw these fans in Geneva, and thinking I
might perhaps do a good business with them in Italy, I bought sev-
eral dozen. Examine the charming and tasteful paintings." He
opened one of the fans ; it was of white satin, with quite an artistic
painting of a large Prussian eagle about to devour a white lily.
The host clapped his hands with delight. " Delicious !" he cried,
laughing. " The Prussian eagle devouring the French lily ; this is
charming prophecy, a wonderful satire. You bought these fans in
Geneva ; there are Prussians in Geneva also, then. "
" Every lady in Geneva has such a fan, and there are no better
Prussians in Berlin than in Geneva. "
"I am delighted, truly delighted," cried the Italian, enthusiasti-
cally. " The time will come when all the people of Europe will be
Prussians and only princes Teresiani. "
"Nevertheless, the people will have to obey their princes, " said
the stranger, with a watchful glance; "and if they command it,
will war against the great king. "
" Not we, not the Italians, " cried the host, violently ; " our Doge
would not dare to side with the Teresiani, for he knows very well
that would occasion a revolution in Venice and, perhaps, endanger
his own throne. No, no, signer ; our exalted government is too
wise not to adopt a neutral position, while secretly they are as good
Prussians as we are. "
" But the Lombardians and the Sardinians?" asked the stranger,
expectantly.
" They also are Prussians ; even if their king is a Teresiano, as
they say, his people are Prussians like ourselves. "
"And the Neapolitans?"
"Well, the Neapolitans," said the host, laughing, "the Neapoli-
tans are, as you know, not renowned for their bravery ; and if they
do not love the great Frederick, they fear him. The Neapolitans
are the children of Italy, knowing only that Naples is a beautiful
city, and fearing a barbarian might come and devour it. In their
terror they forget that no one is thinking of them, and that they are
separated by Italy and the Alps from all warlike people. The king
366 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
of Naples thinks it possible that Frederick may one day ascend
Vesuvius with his conquering army and take possession of Naples.
Since the king's last victories, Ferdinand has increased the number
of his troops and doubled the guard in his capital. "
The host laughed so heartily at this account, that the stranger
was irresistibly compelled to join him.
" The King of Naples is but a boy nine years old. His ministers
are older than himself, and should know a little more geography,
signor. But corpo di Bacco, here I am talking and talking of poli-
tics forgetting entirely that your excellency is doubtless hungry,
and desires a strengthening meal. "
" 'Tis true, I am a little hungry, " said the stranger, smiling.
" In a quarter of an hour the most splendid dinner, that the cele-
brated White Lion can prepare, shall be ready for you, signor,"
oried the host, as he rushed hastily from the room.
The stranger gazed thoughtfully after him. " It appears to me
that I have been very fortunate in coming here ; the good host seems
to be a good Prussian, and I have learned more from him in a quar-
ter of an hour than I would have done in a long journey through
Italy. I shall now be able to act with zeal and energy. But I
must not forget the role I have to play. I am a merchant trading
with fans, curiosities, and relics, and very anxious to bring my
wares to market. "
The entrance of the waiter interrupted him, and soon the savory
dishes invited the traveller to refresh himself.
CHAPTER II.
FREDERICK THE GREAT AS A SAINT.
" AND now to business, " said the traveller, when he had finished
dining. " It is high time I were on my way, if I am to leave this
place to-day. " He hastened to his trunk and took from it several
bundles and packages, some of which he put in his pockets and
some, like a true merchant, he carried under his arm. Then put-
ting on his large, black felt hat, he turned to leave the room. In
passing the mirror he looked at himself, and broke out into a merry
laugh at his appearance.
"Truly," said he, "I look like a veritable shop-keeper, and he
who takes me for any thing else, must be of a more political turn of
mind than my host, Signor Montardo, the Prussiano. "
He turned and left the room to obtain the address of some mer-
FREDERICK THE GREAT AS A SAINT. 367
chants and a guide from his host. In spite of remonstrances Signor
Montardo insisted on accompanying him.
" Otherwise, " said he, " some one might address you who is not
on our side, and if you were then to show him your fans, there
would be a fearful scandal ; the other party is quite as hot-headed
as we are, and many a pitched battle has taken place between the
Teresiani and the Prussiani. Come, sir ; I must accompany you.
We will not go by the canal, but through the small by-streets ; they
will lead us quickest to the Riva di Schiavoni, and then to the Rialto,
which is our destination. "
" Is that far from the convent of San Giovanni e Paolo?" asked
the stranger.
"Ah, you are still determined to offer your relics to the abbot?"
said the host, laughing.
" Yes, and hope to sell them. "
" Well, I wish you luck. The Rialto is not far from there. I
will go with you until within the vicinity of the convent, but not
farther."
"And why not?"
" Because the door-keeper is a raging Teresiano, and would un-
doubtedly close the door in your face, were I at your side. "
" But did you not tell me the abbot was a Prussianof "
" Yes, the abbot, but the porter is not ; nor are many of the
monks, I am sorry to say. "
"Ah, even the monks are occupied with politics?"
" Signor, " cried the host, pathetically, " every one here interests
himself in politics ; and when you hear that our little children are
divided into Teresiani and Prussiani, you will credit me. There
was a slight revolution yesterday in the Riva Peschiera. It was
occasioned by a fish woman's refusing to sell my cook some beauti-
ful trout ; she declared God had not created fish for the Prussiani,
which, in her opinion, was another name for heathen and unbe-
liever. My cook insisted on having the fish, and, as unfortunately
there were many Prussiani among the fishwomen, it soon came to
hard words and still harder blows, and was terminated by the arrest
of the principal disturbers. "
They were now entering the Rivadi Schiavoni, and the talkative
Signor Montardo was continuing his merry tales when he was in-
terrupted by cries and shouts of laughter and derision, and they
were almost surrounded by a large crowd of excited men.
" We are fortunately at the end of our walk, " said Signor Mon-
cardo, "for there is the house of my worthy friend Cicernachi,
dealer in fancy goods, and it is to him we are going. Let us press
forward to see what this crowd means. I presume my friend
368 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Cicernachi has prepared another surprise for the. good people of
Venice. "
He made a way for himself and friend with his broad shoulders,
and soon stood in front of the shop around which the crowd was
collected. A cry of astonishment escaped the stranger, and he
pointed to the entrance of the shop. " You see there, " said he, " a
speaking likeness of Frederick the Great. "
There hung at the front of the store a large engraving ir a rich
golden frame. It was the portrait of Prussia's hero king of Fred-
erick the Great and beneath burnt a bright lamp, its light shedding
a rosy tint over Frederick's noble countenance.
" Ah ! I understand it now, " whispered the host. " Cicernachi
has done this to enrage the Teresiani. To show his boundless rever-
ence for the king, he has placed a burning lamp beneath his picture,
an honor due only in our country to the saints. Let us hear what
the people have to say of it. "
Just then a Teresiano commenced a speech, accompanied by vio-
lent gesticulations, against this insult to the Church. " How can
you suffer this heretic to be represented by you as a saint ?" cried he,
in a voice of rage. " Do you not know that the Pope has excommu-
nicated the King of Prussia? Do you not know that he is an enemy
to God, to the Church, and to our holy Catholic religion? Away,
then, with this lamp ! The fires of hell will devour him, but no
holy lamp shall enlighten his darkened soul. "
" He is right, he is right, " cried some among the crowd. " Away
with the lamp ! Break Cicernachi 's windows, for he is a Prussiano.
He makes a saint of a heretic ! Put out the lamp !"
" Do not venture to touch the lamp, " cried others. " Back ! back !
or our fists shall close your eyes until neither the lamp nor the great
Frederick is visible to you. "
"Put out the lamp, in God's name!" cried the infuriated Tere-
siani. And the cry was repeated by many of his party, as they
pressed forward. But the Prussiani, amongst whom were our host
and the stranger, had already formed a wall of defence before the
store, and were energetically beating back the approaching Tere-
siani. And then there occurred a tumult, such as can only occur
among passionate Italians. Wild shouts, curses, and threats were
heard eyes sparkling with rage, doubled fists, and here and there a
dagger or a knife was seen.
But the noise suddenly ceased, and a deep stillness prevailed.
No sound was heard but the quiet even tread of the solemn silent
forms that stood suddenly, as if they had risen from the earth in
their midst. No one had seen them come no word was spoken by
them, and still many retreated timidly, fearfully from them ; their
FREDERICK THE GREAT AS A SAINT. 369
presence was enough to quiet these enraged masses, to silence their
anger. Even Signor Montardo deserted his prominent position be-
fore the lamp, and was gazing anxiously at the dark forms passing
slowly through the crowd.
"The sbirri !" whispered he to the stranger. "The servants of
the Council of Ten ! Whom will they take with them?"
But it seemed as if these much-feared men only desired to cause
the people to remember them only, to threaten not to punish.
They wished to remind the people that the law was watching over
them. Completely hid by their long mantles, they passed with
bowed heads through the crowd. Thus without addressing or notic-
ing any one, they passed into one of the small by-streets leading
from the Rialto.
As the last one disappeared, life once more animated the crowd.
All breathed more freely when relieved from their much -feared pres-
ence, and soon they commenced talking again of Cicernachi's new
saint.
" You see, " whispered Montardo to the stranger, " that our gov-
ernment is neutral. It will punish neither the Prussiani nor the
Teresiani ; only warns us not to carry our zeal too far, and reminds
us that it is against the law to carry a dagger or a knife in the street.
But now let us enter the shop, and I will introduce you to Cicer-
nachi. "
He took the stranger's arm, and entered the shop, where a tall,
slim man met him. His long black hair hung in wild disorder on
both sides of his expressive countenance, his eyes sparkled with
fire, and on his full red lip there was a proud, triumphant smile.
" Well, Montardo, " said he, " you come undoubtedly to congratu-
late me on this victory over these miserable Teresiani. "
"Certainly, sir," cried Montardo, laughingly, "it was a most
original idea. "
"Do you know why I have done it?" said Cicernachi ; "yester-
day the Teresiani placed before their restaurants the bull of Pope
Clement XI., which has just been confirmed and renewed by
Clement XIII. It was printed on white satin, and enclosed in a
beautiful gilt frame, and underneath it burnt a sacred lamp. "
"What are the contents of this bull?" said Montardo.
" I will tell you the beginning, " said Cicernachi, " I do not recol-
lect all. It sounded thus : ' You have long known that Frederick,
margrave of Brandenburg, in contempt for the authority of the
Church, took to himself the name and insignia of king, a profane
and unheard-of act among Christians. He has thus unwisely
enough become one of those of whom it is said in the Bible, ' They
reigned, but not through Me ; they were princes, but I did not know
370 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
them.' Do you conceive now why I placed the king's picture be-
fore my store? why I burnt a lamp beneath it? I think this glorious
portrait is more deserving of a sacred lamp than the Pope's non-
sensical bull."
" You are right, signor, " said the stranger, advancing to Cicer-
nachi and shaking hands with him. " Permit me to thank you in
the name of my great and noble king whom you have this day de-
fended in so original a manner from the malicious charges of his
enemies. I give you my word of honor that the king shall hear of
it through me ; I know it will rejoice him."
"Ah, signor," said Montardo, laughing, "you forget that you are
an honest merchant who does not concern himself about politics. "
" I can never forget I am a Prussian, " said the traveller ; " and
how could I forget it?" continued he, laughing. "My whole busi-
ness consists of Prussian wares. "
"Truly you have some very beautiful articles," said Montardo.
" You will be charmed with them, Cicernachi ; it will be another
opportunity to annoy the Teresiani. Look at this merchant's fans."
The stranger opened several fans. Cicernachi 's eyes sparkled
with delight at the sight of the painting. " How many have you,
signor?" said he.
" Twelve. "
" I take them all, and regret you have not more. "
"But Cicernachi, where has all your wisdom gone to?" cried
Montardo. " You have not even asked the price ; or do you, perhaps,
think the stranger gives them to you for nothing?"
"No, no; I forgot it, "said Cicernachi, gazing with delight at
the fans which the stranger was spreading out before him. " What
is their price, signor?"
The stranger was silent for a moment, and then said, in a hesi-
tating manner : " I paid ten francs for each fan in Geneva. "
"I give twice that," said Cicernachi, quickly.
The stranger started up hastily, blushing with annoyance.
" Sir, " said he, " I take from no one a higher price than I gave. "
"Ah, signor, signor," cried Montardo, "you have again forgot-
ten that you are but a merchant. No merchant sells his goods for
what he gave for them. Remember that. "
"I will make a good business with these fans," said Cicernachi.
: ' I give you twenty-four francs, and will ask fifty for them. The
ladies of our nobility, many of whom are Prussiani, will be delighted
to annoy their opponents in so elegant a manner. Are you content,
sir?"
" I am satisfied, " said the stranger, blushing with embarrassment
" Is this all you have for sale?"
THE BROTHERS OF SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO. 371
"No, I have something else," said the stranger, opening another
package. " As you are Prussiano, these neat little coins and medals,
with pretty caricatures of the enemies of the king on them, will no
doubt please you. "
"Ah, let us see them," cried both Italians. They examined with
eagerness the medals upon which the enemies of Frederick were
represented in various laughable situations and positions.
"I take them all !" cried Cicernachi, enraptured.
The stranger laughed. " I cannot sell you my whole business, "
said he ; "I must retain something. I will give you one of each.
You must accept them as a token of my esteem, and must not pay
me for them. "
"Signor !" cried Montardo, in an imploring tone, "remain at my
hotel as long as you please, and when I bring you your bill lay some
of these coins upon it, and I shall be richly paid. "
The stranger promised ; then having received, with visible an-
noyance, the money for the fans, left the store with Montardo to pay
his visit to the Convent Giovanni e Paolo.
CHAPTER III.
THE CLOISTER BROTHERS OP SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO.
THE Prior of San Giovanni e Paolo had just returned from the
second mass celebrated in the beautiful church of his cloister, the
burial-place of the great Titiano Vicelli. With his arms folded
across his back, he walked slowly and thoughtfully backward and
forward, then stood before a large table at which a monk was occu-
pied in unfolding letters and maps.
" This, your worship, " said the monk, opening a new paper, " is
an exact plan of the region around Mayen ; we have just received
it, and the positions of the two armies are plainly marked down.
If agreeable to your worship, I will read the bulletins aloud, ami
you can follow the movements of the troops upon the map. "
The prior shook his head softly. " No, Brother Anselmo, do not
read again the triumphant bulletins of the Austrians and Russians ;
they pain my ears and my heart. Let us rather look at the map to
see if the present position of the army offers any ground of hope. "
" I have marked it all out with pins, " said Father Anselmo ; " the
black pins signify the army of the allies, the white pins the army of
the King of Prussia. "
The prior bowed over the map, and his eye followed thoughtfully
the lines which Father Anselmo marked out. " Your pins are a sad
372 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
omen, " he said, shaking his head. " The black ones surround like a
churchyard wall the white ones, which stand like crosses upon the
solitary graves in the midst of their black enclosures. "
"But the white pins will break through the enclosure," said
Father Anselmo, confidently. " The great king " Father Anselmo
stopped speaking ; suddenly the door opened, and the father guar-
dian asked if he might enter.
The prior blushed slightly, and stepped back from the table as
the sharp eyes of the father guardian wandered around the room
and fell at last with a sarcastic expression upon the table covered
with maps and plans.
" Welcome, Brother Theodore, " said the prior, with a slight nod
of the head.
" I fear that I disturb your worship in your favorite occupation, "
said the father guardian, pointing to the maps. " Your worship is
considering the unfortunate condition of the heretical king whom
God, as it appears, will soon cast down in the dust, and crush at the
feet of the triumphant Church. "
" We must leave results, at all events, to God, " said the prior,
softly ; " He has so often evidently lent his aid to the King of Prus-
sia, that I think no one can count confidently upon Frederick's de-
struction now. "
" The Holy Father at Rome has blessed the weapons of his adver-
saries, consequently they must triumph," cried Father Theodore,
unctuously. "But pardon, your worship, I forgot my errand. A
stranger wishes to see the prior of the cloister ; he has rare and
beautiful relics to sell, which he will only show to your worship."
" Our church is rich enough in relics, " said the prior.
"Your worship does not attach any especial value to such things,"
said the father guardian with a derisive smile ; " but I must allow
myself to recall to you that the Holy Father in Rome has only lately
addressed a circular to all the cloisters, recommending the purchase
of rare relics to the awakening and advancing of the true faith. "
" You, father guardian, must understand that matter best, " said
Brother Anselmo, sticking four new pins into his map. "I think
you brought back this circular about six months since, when you
returned to take the place of guardian."
The father was in the act of giving an angry answer, but the
prior came forward, and pointing to the door, said, " Introduce the
stranger with the relics. "
A few moments later the traveller from the hotel of Signer Mon-
tardo entered the prior's room. He received a kindly welcome, and
was asked to show his treasures.
The stranger hesitated, and looked significantly at the two monks.
THE BROTHERS OF SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO. 373
" I begged to be allowed to show them to your worship alone, " said
he.
"These two fathers are consecrated priests, and may therefore
dare to look upon the holy treasures, " said the prior, with a scarcely
perceptible smile.
" I solemnly swore to the man from whom I bought these relics
that I would only show them to the most worthy member of your
order ; he was a very pious man, and bitter necessity alone forced
him to sell his precious treasures ; he prayed to God to grant them
a worthy place, and never to allow them to be desecrated by unholy
eyes or hands. As the most holy and worthy brother is ever chosen
to be the prior, I swore to show the relics only to the prior. Your
worship will surely not ask me to break my oath ?"
The prior made no answer ; but nodded to the two monks, who
silently left the room.
u And now, sir, show your treasures, " said the prior, as the door
closed behind them.
"Your worship," said the stranger, rapidly, "I have nothing
but a letter from the Abbe Bastiani, which I was to give to your
own hands. " He drew a letter from his bosom, which he handed to
the prior, who received it with anxious haste and hid it in his robe ;
then, with quick but noiseless steps he passed hastily through the
room, and with a rapid movement dashed open the door ; a low cry
was heard, and a black figure tumbled back upon the floor.
" Ah ! is that you, father guardian ?" said the prior, in a tone of
sympathy. " I fear that I hurt you. "
" Not so, your worship ; I only returned to say to you that it is
the hour for dinner, and the pious brothers are already assembled in
the hall."
" And I opened the door to call after you, father, and entreat you
to take my place at the table. As I am in the act of looking at these
holy relics, and touching them, I dare not soil my hands so soon
afterward with earthly food. You will, therefore, kindly take my
place, and I will not appear till the evening meal. Go, then,
worthy brother, and may God bless you richly." He bowed and
raising his right hand, made the sign of the cross, while the father
guardian slowly, and with a frowning brow, passed through the
room. Having reached the opposite door, he paused and looked
back ; but seeing the prior still standing upon the threshold of his
room, and gazing after him, he dashed open the door and disappeared.
" Now, sir, " said the prior, entering and closing the door care-
fully, " we are alone, and I am ready to listen to you. "
" I pray your worship to read first the letter of your brother, the
Abbe Bastiani. "
374 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Ahl he has told you that I am his brother?" said the prior,
eagerly. " He trusts you then, fully? Well, I will read the letter. "
He opened and read it impatiently. " This is a very laconic and
enigmatical letter, " said he. " My brother refers me wholly to you ,
he assures me I can confide entirely in your silence and discretion,
and entreats me to assist you in the attainment of your object.
Make known to me then, signer, in what way I can serve you, and
what aim you have in view. "
" First, I will give your worship a proof that I trust you fully
and unconditionally. I will tell you who I am, and then make
known my purpose ; you will then be able to decide how far you can
give me counsel and aid. "
"Let us step into this window -niche, " said the prior; "we will
be more secure from eavesdroppers. Now, signor, I am ready to
listen."
The stranger bowed. "First, I must pray your worship's for-
giveness, for having dared to deceive you. I am no merchant, and
have nothing to do with relics ; I am a soldier ! my name is Cocceji,
and I have the honor to be an adjutant of the King of Prussia. My
royal master has intrusted me with a most important and secret
mission, and I am commissioned by your brother, the Abbe Bas-
tiani, to ask in his name for your assistance in this great matter."
"In what does your mission consist?" said the prior, calmly.
The Baron Cocceji smiled. "It is difficult yes, impossible to
tell you in a few words. Your worship must allow me a wider
scope, in order to explain myself fully. "
" Speak on !" said the prior.
" I see, by the maps and the arrangements of the pins, that your
worship knows exactly the position and circumstances of my royal
master, whom all Europe admires and wonders at, and whom his
enemies fear most when they have just defeated him. They know
that my king is never so great, never so energetic and bold in
action, as when he is seemingly at a disadvantage, and overwhelmed
by misfortunes. The bold glance of the great Frederick discovers
ever-new fountains of help ; he creates in himself both power and
strength, and when his enemies think they have caught the royal
lion in their nets, his bold eye has already discovered the weak spot ;
he tears it apart, and makes his foes, bewildered with terror and
astonishment, fly before him. It is true, the king has just lost
three battles ! The Austrians and Russians defeated him atHoch-
kirch, at Kiinersdorf, and at Mayen. But what have they gained?
They have, in these three battles, lost more than the king ; they
have exhausted their resources their own, and those of their allies ;
but Frederick stands still opposed to them, full of strength and
THE BROTHERS OF SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO. 375
power. His army is enlarged; from every side, from every prov-
ince, shouting crowds stream onward to join the colors of their
king. Enthusiasm makes a youth of the graybeard, and changes
boys to men. Each one of them will have his part in the experience
and fame of the great Frederick, and demands this of him as a holy
right. The king's treasury is not exhausted ; the people, with joy
and gladness, have offered up upon the altar of the fatherland, their
possessions, their jewels, and their precious things, and submit
with enthusiasm to all the restrictions and self-denials which the
war imposes upon them. They desire nothing but to see their king
victorious ; to help him to this, they will give property, blood
yes, life itself. It is this warm, enthusiastic love of his people
which makes the king so fearful to his enemies ; it protects him like
a diamond shield, steels him against the balls of his adversaries,
and fills his proud, heroic soul with assurances of triumph. All
Europe shares this enthusiasm and these convictions of ultimate
success with the Prussians and their dear-loved king. All Europe
greets the hero with loud hosannas, who alone defies so many and
such mighty foes, who has often overcome them, and from whom
they have not yet wrung one single strip of the land they have
watered with their blood, and in whose bosom their fallen hosts lie
buried in giant graves. This has won for him the sympathy of all
Europe, and the love and admiration of even the subjects of his
great and powerful foes. In France that France, whose warriors
suffered so shameful a defeat at Rossbach, and whose government is
filled with rage and thirsty for revenge against this heroic king
even in France is Frederick admired and worshipped. Even in the
palace of the king, they no longer refuse to acknowledge his worth
and glory. But lately, the young Duke de Belleisle exhorted the
Marquise de Pompadour to implore King Louis to prosecute the war
with earnestness and ardor, otherwise King Frederick might soon
be expected in Paris with his army. The Marquise de Pompadour
cried out warmly, 'Good ! then I shall at last see a king !' In Ger-
many, his enemies seek in vain to arouse the fanaticism of the
people against the heretical king. Catholic Bavaria the Palatinate
Main enter murmuringly and reluctantly into this war against
this Protestant king, although they wear the beads in their pockets,
and the scapular over their shoulders. Even if Frederick the Second
is now overcome by his enemies, in the public opinion he is the
conqueror, and the whole world sympathizes with him. But public
opinion is his only ally, and the sympathy of the people is his only
source of revenue, outside of the subsidy from England, which will
soon be exhausted. Frederick, therefore, must look after other
allies, other friends, who will render him assistance, in so far as
376 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
not to unsheathe the sword against him, and to prepare some diffi-
culties for his adversaries, and occupy a portion of their attention.
Such friends the king hopes to find in Italy ; and to attain this ob-
ject, I would ask counsel and help of your worship. "
" And in how far is it thought that I can be useful in this mat-
ter?" said the prior, thoughtfully.
"Your worship has a second brother, who is minister of the
King of Sardinia, and it is well known he is the king's especial
confidant and favorite. "
"And my noble brother, Giovanni, merits fully the favor of his
king !" said the prior, heartily. " He is the most faithful, the most
exalted servant of his master !"
"In all his great and good characteristics, he resembles his
brother, the Prior of San Giovanni, and I hope, in this also, that he
is the friend of the King of Prussia !" said the stranger.
"But I fear neither the friendship of my brother Giovanni nor
my own can be useful to the King of Prussia. I am a poor and
powerless monk, suspected and watched. My offence is, that I have
not, like the fanatical priests of the Church, wished for the destruc-
tion and death of the great Frederick. My brother is the minister
of a king, whose land is neither rich enough in gold to pay subsi-
dies, nor in men to place an army in the field. "
"Well, then, we must take occasion to increase the territory of
the King of Sardinia!" said Baron Cocceji. "We must give him
so large a realm, that he will be a dangerous neighbor to France and
Austria. This is the plan and the intention of my king. Upon
these points turn the proposals I will make in Turin, for the further-
ance of which, I pray your assistance. The King of Sardinia has
well-grounded claim to Milan, to Mantua, and to Bologna, by the
treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle why not make himself King of Lom-
bardy? Unhappy Italy is like unhappy Germany torn to pieces.
In place of obeying one master, they must submit to the yoke of
many. The dwellers in Italy, instead of being Italians, call them-
selves Milanese, Venetians, Sardinians, Tuscans, Romans, Neapoli-
tans, and I know not what. All this weakens the national pride,
and takes from the people the joyful consciousness of their great-
ness. Italy must be one in herself, in order to be once more great
and powerful. Let the King of Sardinia take possession of Upper
Italy, and he will, with his rightful inheritance, and as King of
Lombardy, be a powerful prince feared by his enemies, and wel-
comed by his allies. "
"And do you think that Naples would look quietly on and wit-
ness this rapid growth of Sardinia?" said the prior, laughing.
"We will give to Naples an opportunity at the same time to
THE BROTHERS OF SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO. 377
enlarge her borders. The young King of Naples has energy ; he has
proved it. When his father, Don Carlos, was called by right of
succession to the Spanish throne, he had himself declared King of
Naples, not regarding the right of the Duke of Parma, to whom,
according to the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, the Neapolitan throne
rightly belonged. King Ferdinand is already a usurper ! Let him
go on, even as successfully in the same path he has taken Naples
let him take Tuscany and the States of the Church, and, as King of
Lower Italy, he will be as powerful as the King of Sardinia. In
order that both may obtain possession of these lands uninterrupted
and uninjured, will the King of Prussia so completely occupy the
attention of Austria and France in Germany and Flanders as to make
it impossible for them to interfere with Naples and Sardinia?" *
"By Heaven ! a great and bold idea ; altogether in harmony with
the energetic spirit of Frederick," cried the prior. "If the two
Italian kings resemble the great Frederick, they will adopt this plan
with enthusiasm."
He had risen, and stepped hastily backward and forward, now
and then murmuring a few disconnected words ; he then drew near
the table and stood earnestly regarding the maps.
Gocceji did not dare to interrupt him by word or sound ; he
watched him, however, closely. At last, however, the inward
struggle seemed to be over ; he stood quietly before the baron, and,
fixing his dark, earnest eyes with a thoughtful expression upon him,
he said, softly : " You have confided to me a great and dangerous
enterprise. If I did my duty as the unconditional subject of the
Pope, and as a priest of the holy Church, of which Frederick is the
bitter antagonist, I should arrest you here, as a dangerous nego-
tiator and enemy, and above all, I should give speedy notice of this
conspiracy, which not only threatens Clement as head of the Church,
but as sovereign of the States of the Church. But what would you
have ? I was not born a priest, and my heart and my spirit have
never been able to accommodate themselves fully to the discipline
of my order. I have always remained, I fear," said he, with a
graceful smile, "the true brother of the free-thinking Abbe Bas-
tiani ; and it appears to me, it lies in our blood to love and pay
homage to the great and intellectual King of Prussia. I will, there-
fore, listen to and follow the voice of my blood and of my heart, and
forget a little that I am a priest of the only church in which salva-
tion can be found. As far as it lies in my power, I will promote
your object. I will give you letters to Turin, not only to my brother
Giovanni, but to Father Tomaseo, the king's confessor. He is my
most faithful friend, and sympathizes fully with me. If you can
* Preuss, " History of Frederick the Great."
26
378 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
win him and my brother Giovanni, you have won the king, and he
will lend a willing ear to your proposals. Your plans are bold, but
my brother and Father Tomaseo are daring, undaunted men ; the
progress of Italy and the greatness of their king lies nearest their
hearts. They are both influenced by my judgment, and when you
hand them my letters, you will at least be a most welcome guest. "
He gave the baron his hand, and listened with a kindly smile to
the enthusiastic thanks of the over-happy soldier, whose first diplo-
matic mission seemed to promise so favorably.
" Be, however, always prudent and discreet, signer, " said the prior,
laughing. " Play your role as merchant ; do not lay it aside for one
moment while in Turin. Leave Venice as quickly as possible ; no
doubt the brother guardian, who was sent from Rome as a spy, who
watches not only all my actions, but my words and thoughts, has
remarked our long interview, and is already suspicious. As he lias
a fine nose, he may soon discover a part of your secret ! Do not
return to the cloister. During the day I will send you the promised
letters by a faithful brother. As soon as you receive them, be off!
My best wishes and my prayers accompany you. Without doubt,
you are, like your great king, a heretic. I cannot, therefors com-
mend you to Mary Mother, and the saints, but I will pray to God to
watch over you. "
The prior stopped suddenly and listened ! Loud cries of wild
alarm forced themselves upon his ear ; the sounds appeared to come
from directly under his feet, and waxed louder and fiercer every
moment.
"It is in the dining-room," said the prior, "follow me, sir, I beg
you, we may need your help some one is murdering my monks !"
They hastened from the room with flying feet ; they passed through
the long corridors and down the steps ; the cries and roars and howls
and curses became ever clearer.
" I was not mistaken, " said the prior, " this comes from the re-
fectory." He rushed to the door and threw it hastily open, then
stood, as if chained to the threshold, and stared with horror at the
mad spectacle before him.
There were no murderous strangers there playing wild havoc
amongst his monks ; but the worthy fathers themselves were making
the fierce tumult which filled the prior with alarm. The saloon no
longer resembled the ascetic, peaceful refectory of cloister brothers.
It was changed into a battle-field, upon which the two hosts thirst-
ing for blood stood opposed.
The table upon which the glasses, plates, and dishes seemed to
have been thrown together in wild disorder, was shoved to one side,
and in the open space the monks stood with flashing eyes, uttering
THE BROTHERS OF SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO. 379
curses and imprecations ; not one of them remarked that the prior
and Cocceji stood at the door, astonished spectators of this unheard-
of combat.
"Silence!" said the father guardian, making frantic gesticula-
tions toward the monks who stood opposed to him and his adherents
" silence ! no one shall dare within these sacred walls to speak of
the Prussian heretical king in any other way than with impreca-
tions. Whoever wishes success to his arms is an apostate, a traitor,
and heretic. God has raised the sword of His wrath against him,
and He will crush him utterly ; He has blessed the weapons of his
adversaries as Clement has also done. Long live Maria Theresa,
her apostolic majesty !"
The monks by his side roared out, " Long live Maria Theresa, her
apostolic majesty !"
"She will not be victorious over Frederick of Prussia," cried
Father Anselmo, the leader of the opposite party. "The Pope has
Messed the arms of Daun, but God himself has blessed the weapons
of Frederick. Long live the King of Prussia ! Long live the great
Frederick !"
" Long live the great Frederick !" cried the monks by the side of
Father Anselmo.
The party of the father guardian rushed upon them with doubled
fists ; the adversaries followed their example. " Long live Theresa !"
cried the one. " Long live Frederick !" cried the other and the
blows and kicks fell thickly right and left, with the most lavish
prodigality.
It was in vain that the prior advanced among them and com-
manded peace no one regarded him. In their wild and indiscrimi-
nate rage they pressed him and shoved him from side to side, and
in the heat of the battle several powerful blows fell upon his breast ;
so the poor prior took refuge again at the door near Cocceji, who
was laughing merrily at the wild disorder.
The cries of "Long live Theresa!" "Long live Frederick!" were
mingling lustily in the bloody strife.
The father guardian was enraged beyond bearing, and his flash-
ing eye looked around for some sharp weapon with which to demol-
ish Father Anselmo, who had just exclaimed, "Long live Frederick,
the victor of Leuthen and Zorndorf !" He seized a large tin cup,
which was near him upon the table, and with a fierce curse he
dashed it in the face of Father Anselmo, and the blood burst from
his nose. This was the signal for a new order of attack. Both par-
ties rushed to the table to arm themselves ; the cups whizzed through
the air and wounded severely the heads against which they were
well aimed. Here and there might be heard whimperings and pite-
380 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ous complaints, mixed with curses and frantic battle-cries "Long
live Theresa !" "Long live Frederick!" Some of the warriors crept
from the contest into the corners to wipe the blood from their wounds
and return with renewed courage to the contest. A few cowards
had crept under the table to escape the cups and kicks which were
falling in every direction.
Father Anselmo remarked them, and with loud, derisive laughter
he pointed them out.
" The Teresiani live under the table, no Prussiano has crept there.
All the Teresiani would gladly hide as they have often done before. "
The Prussiani accompanied these words of their leader with
joyous shouts.
The father guardian trembled with rage ; he seized a large dish
from the table and dashed it at Anselmo, who dodged in time, and
then with a powerful arm returned the compliment. It was a well-
directed javelin. The tin dish struck the father guardian exactly
in the back he lost his balance, and fell to the earth. The Prussiani
greeted this heroic deed of their chief with shouts of triumph.
" So shall all the Teresiani perish !"
The battle waxed hotter and fiercer, the air was thick with
missiles.
"They will murder each other!" cried the prior, turning to the
Baron Cocceji.
" Not so, your worship ; there will only be a few blue swellings
and bleeding noses nothing more," said Cocceji, laughing.
"Ah, you laugh young man ; you laugh at this sad spectacle !"
" Forgive me, your worship ; but I swear to you, I have never
seen warriors more eager in the fray, and I have never been more
curious to witness the result of any battle. "
" But you shall not witness it, " said the prior, resolutely. " You
shall no longer be a spectator of the unworthy and shameful conduct
of my monks. I pray you to withdraw instantly ; in a few hours I
will send you the letters, and if you believe that I have rendered
you the least service, I ask in return that you will tell no one what
you have seen. "
"I promise, your worship," said Cocceji, with forced gravity.
" If the people without shall ask me what all this tumult means, I
will say that the pious fathers in the cloister are singing their
'Horas.'"*
Baron Cocceji bowed to the prior, and returned with gay and
hopeful thoughts to the hotel of the "White Lion."
A few hours later, a monk appeared and desired to speak with
the stranger about the holy relics.
* Baron Cocceji did not keep his word, as this whole scene is historic.
THE RETURN FROM THE ARMY. 381
Cocceji recognized in him the worthy Father Anselmo, the victor
over the father guardian.
"Will you do me a great pleasure, worthy father?" said he.
" Tell me which party remained in possession of the field after your
great battle. "
An expression of triumphant joy flashed in Father Anselmo's
eyes.
" The Prussiani were victorious, and I think the Teresiani will
never dare to recommence the strife ; four of their monks lie in
their cells with broken noses, and it will be some weeks before the
father guardian will be capable of performing his duties as spy ; he
is sore and stiff, and his mouth is poorer by a few teeth. May all
the enemies of the great Frederick share his fate ! May God bless
the King of Prussia and be gracious to his friends !"
He greeted the baron with the sign of the cross, and withdrew.
The baron remembered the warning of the prior, and hastened
quietly from Venice. Already the next morning he was on the high-
way to Turin.*
CHAPTER IV.
THE RETURN FROM THE ARMY.
IT was a sunny, summer day one of those days which incline
the heart to prayer, and bring tears of happiness to the eyes. There
are no such days in cities ; if we would enjoy them we must go into
the country we must seek them in peaceful valleys, in fragrant
forests, where the silence is unbroken, except by the fluttering
leaves and the singing of birds. We must understand the eloquent
silence of Nature in order to enjoy the holy Sabbath quiet of a sum-
mer day ; and we must be able to hear the language which the
flowers breathe forth, to understand the sighing of the wind, and
the rustling of the trees.
Very few can do this, but few would care for it. God has not
opened the eyes of the hearts of many of us to this extent ; these
things are hidden by a thick veil from the many ; they cannot see
*This diplomatic mission failed, because of the faint heart of the King of Sar-
dinia. He rejected the bold propositions of Frederick entirely, and said, in justifica-
tion of himself, that since the alliance between the powers of France and Austria,
he had his head between a pair of tongs, which were ever threatening to close and
crush him.
Baron Cocceji was not more fortunate in Naples, and after many vain efforts
he was forced to return home, having accomplished nothing. Duten's " Memoirs of
a Traveller."
382 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the heavenly beauty of Nature they do not understand the fairy
tale which she is ever telling. This is gentle, idyllic, fairy lore,
unsought by the learned. It whispers of roses, of dancing elves, of
weeping clouds, of dreaming violets.
Happy are those who listen to these fables, who are not called by
the necessities of life to hear the roar of cannon to find all these
sweet and holy songs overpowered by the noise of war, the horrors
of bloodshed !
War, destructive war, still held a lighted torch over unhappy
Germany ; cities and villages were in ruins even the peace of
Nature was destroyed. The valleys, usually so quiet, now often
resounded with the roar of cannon. The fields remained unculti-
vated, the meadows uncared for ; there were no strong hands to
work. The men and youths were gone, only the old graybeards and
the women were in the villages, and the work advanced but slowly
under their trembling hands. Unhappiness and want, care and
sorrow were in the land.
Even in the once peaceful and happy village of Briinen on the
Rhine, misery had made itself felt. Grief and anguish dwelt with
the bereaved mothers, with the forsaken brides, and the weak old
men ; with the useless cripples, who had returned from the war, and
who spent their time in relating the dangers through which they
had passed, in telling of the sons, the brothers, the husbands, and
the fathers of those who listened to their tales those dear ones who
were, perhaps, now stretched upon the battle-field.
But on this bright day no one in the village gave a thought to the
beauties of Nature, for a new misfortune weighed heavily upon the
hearts of the unhappy inhabitants. They were no longer the sub-
jects of the hero-king, who was so worshipped by all ; under whose
colors their fathers and sons still fought. The French army, led by
the Duke de Broglie and the Count de St. Germain, had taken pos-
session of all that part of the country, and held it in the name of
their king. It was declared a French province, and the inhabitants,
helpless and forsaken, were compelled to acknowledge the French as
their masters, and to meet the taxes which were imposed upon
them.
It was a most bitter necessity, and no one felt it more deeply
than the old shepherd Buschman, the father of Charles Henry. He
sat, as we first saw him, on the slope of the field where his flock
was grazing, guarded and kept in order by the faithful Phylax.
His eye was not clear and bright as then, but troubled and sorrow-
ful, and his countenance bore an expression of the deepest grief.
He had no one to whom he could pour forth his sorrows no one to
comfort him he was quite alone. Even his youngest son, Charles
THE RETURN FROM THE ARMY. 383
Henry, the real Charles Henry, had been compelled to leave him.
The recruiting officers of the king had come a short time before the
French troops had taken possession of the province, and had con-
scripted the few strong men who were still left in the village of
Brunen.
But this time the men of Brunen had not answered joyfully to
the demand. Even old Buschman had wished to keep h is son Charles
Henry with him. Had he not sent six sons to the field of battle,
and had they not all died as heroes? Charles Henry was his last
treasure, his one remaining child ; his grief -torn heart clung to him
with the deepest devotion. To be parted from him seemed more
bitter than death itself. When the recruiting officer came into the
hut of Buschman and summoned Charles Henry to follow him as a
soldier, the eyes of the old man filled with tears, and he laid his
hands upon the arm of his son as if he feared to see him instantly
torn from his sight.
"Captain " he said, with a trembling voice, "I have sent the
king six sons already ; they have all died in his service. Tell me
truly, is the king in great need? If so, take me as well as my son
if not, leave me my son. "
The officer smiled, and extended his hand to the old man. " Keep
your son," he said. "If you have lost six sons in the war, it is right
that you should keep the seventh. "
Buschman uttered a cry of joy, and would have embraced his
son, but Charles Henry pushed him gently back, and his father read
in his countenance a determination and energy that he had rarely
seen there.
"No, father," he said, "let me go let me be a soldier as my
brothers were. I should have gone four years ago, when I was pre-
vented, and Anna Sophia Ah, let me be a soldier, father," he
said, interrupting himself . "All the young men of the village are
going, and I am ashamed to remain at home. "
The old man bent his head sadly. "Go then, my son," he said;
"God's blessing rest upon you !"
Thus Charles Henry went ; not from a feeling of enthusiasm for
the life of a soldier not from love to his king but merely because
he was ashamed to remain at home.
He had now been absent several months, and his father had not
heard from him. But the news of the lately lost battle had reached
the village, and it was said that the Prince Royal of Brunswick, in
whose corps Charles Henry was, had been defeated. The old shep-
herd remembered this as he sat in the meadow this bright summer
morning. His thoughts were with his distant son, and when he
raised his eyes to heaven it was not to admire its dazzling blue, or
384 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
its immeasurable depth, but to pray to the Almighty to spare his
son. The peaceful tranquillity of Nature alarmed the old man she
speaks alone to those who have an ear attuned to her voice she says
nothing to those who listen with a divided heart. Buschman could
endure it no longer ; he arose and started toward the village. He
longed to see some human being to encounter some look of love
to receive sympathy from some one who understood his grief, who
suffered as he did, and who did not wear the eternal smile that
Nature wore.
He went to the village, therefore, and left the care of his flock to
Phylax. It comforted his heart as he passed through the principal
street of Briinen and received kind greetings from every hut he
passed. He felt consoled and almost happy when here and there the
peasants hurried toward him as he passed their huts, and begged
him to come in and join them at their simple mid-day meal, and
were quite hurt when he refused because his own dinner was pre-
pared for him at home. These men loved him they pitied his
loneliness they told him of their own cares, their own fears and as
he endeavored to console and encourage them, he felt his strength in-
crease he was more hopeful, more able to bear whatever God might
send.
" We must be united in love, " said Buschman ; " we will help
each other to bear the sorrows that may come upon us. To-morrow
is Sunday ; in the morning we will go to the house of God, and after
we have whispered to Him the prayers which He alone must hear,
we will assemble together under the linden-tree in the square and
talk of the old times and those who have left us. Do you not re-
member that it was under the linden,-tree we heard of the first vic-
tory that our king gained in this fearful war? It was there that
Anna Sophia Detzloff read the news to us, and we rejoiced over the
battle of Losovitz. And I also rejoiced and thanked God, although
the victory had cost me the lives of two of my sons. But they
perished as heroes. I could glory in such a death ; and Anna Sophia
read their praises from the paper. Ah, if Anna lived, I would at
least have a daughter. "
He could speak no more, emotion arrested the words on his lips ;
he bowed to his friends and passed on to his lonely hut. His little
table was spread, and the young girl who served him, and who slept
in his hut at night, was just placing a dish of steaming potatoes
before his plate. The old man sat down to his solitary meal ; he ate
only to sustain his body ; his thoughts were far away ; he took no
pleasure in his food. In the middle of his meal he started up ; a
shadow had fallen across the window, and two loving, well-known
eyes had seemed to look in on him. Buschman, as if paralyzed with
THE RETUEN FROM THE ARMY. 385
delight, let fall his spoon and looked toward the door. Yes, the bolt
moved, the door opened, and there stood the tall figure of a Prussian
soldier.
The old man uttered a cry and extended his arms. "Oh, my
son, my beloved son, do I indeed see you once more?"
"Yes, father, I am here ; and God willing, we will never again
be parted. " And Charles Henry hastened to the outstretched arms
of his father, and kissing him tenderly, pressed him to his heart.
" The thought of you, dear father, has led me here, " he said ;
" but for you I would not have returned to Brunen ; I should have
wandered forth into the world the world which is so much greater
and more beautiful than I ever dreamed. But your dear old eyes
were before me ; I heard your loved voice, which called to me, and
I returned to you. "
"God be praised!" said his father, folding his hands, and rais-
ing his eyes gratefully toward heaven. " Oh how kind and merciful
is God, to give me back my last, my only son, the support of my
old age, the delight of my eyes! You will not leave me again.
This is not merely a leave of absence ; you have obtained your re-
lease, the war is ended, the king has declared peace. "
The eyes of the old man were dimmed with tears ; he did not
perceive how Charles Henry trembled, and that a deep flush
mounted to his brow.
" No, father, " he said, with downcast eyes, " I will never leave
you again. We have all returned home. It will be bright and gay
once more in the village, and the work will go forward, for there is
a great difference between a. dozen old men and as many young ones.
It was most needful for us to return. The corn is ripe, and should
have been already gathered. We must go to work. To-morrow
shall be a happy day for the village ; the whole neighborhood shall
perceive that the twelve young men of Brunen have returned. We
met a violinist on the way, and we engaged him for to-morrow.
He must play for us under the linden -tree, and our fathers and
mothers, and sisters and sweethearts must join us, and we will
dance and sing and make merry. "
" What a coincidence !" said the old shepherd, with a bright
smile. "We had already decided that we would meet together to-
morrow under the linden. We wished to sit there and mourn to-
gether over our lost sons. To sing and dance is much better, and
perhaps the old grayheads will join you. "
" You must dance with me, father, " said Charles Henry, laugh-
ing. " I will take no refusal.
"I will, my son, I will; joy has made me young again, and if
Phylax, the old graybeard, does not mind, and will allow me, I
386 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
will dance with you, but you know he is always jealous of you. I
am sure the whole village will envy you your gay young partner.
But now, my son, " he continued gravely, " tell me of our king, and
how is it that he has declared peace so suddenly, and whether he
has been victorious or the reverse. "
" I know nothing of the king" said Charles Henry ; " I was not
near him, but in the division of the Duke of Brunswick. "
" I know that, my son ; but the duke would not proclaim peace
without the knowledge and consent of the king. "
" Oh, father, they will compel the king to make peace, " cried
Charles Henry. "And as for the Duke of Brunswick, he has given
up the attack against Wesel and has withdrawn to Westphalia, and
the French are in possession of the entire lowlands, which, it is to be
hoped, they will retain. "
"You hope that?" asked his father, with astonishment.
"Well, yes, father. The French king is now, and perhaps will
always be, the lord of Cleve ; and, as his subjects, we must wish him
success, and hope that he will always conquer the King of Prussia. "
" What do you say, my son?" asked the old man, with a bewildered
expression. "I fear you are right. The French are our masters
now, and, as our king has declared peace with France, we have the
unhappiness of being French subjects. May God protect us from
such a fate ! It would be fearful if we dared not call the great hero-
king our king, and, if we should live to see the day when our sons
should be compelled, as French soldiers, to go to battle against their
king. Only think, Charles Henry, you would not be allowed to wear
your fine Prussian uniform on Sundays, and it is so becoming to you,
and is as good as new. But how is it, my son, that they have left you
the uniform? They are usually taken from the released soldiers and
put amongst the army stores. "
"We all came home in our Prussian uniforms," said Charles
Henry, " but of course we will lay them aside to-day. "
"Why to-day?"
" Because we are French subjects, and therefore it is not proper
for us to wear the uniform of the enemy, the King of Prussia.
That is also the reason why we have returned home. When we
learned that Cleve had fallen into the possession of the French, we
knew that we were no longer the subjects of the King of Prussia,
and we dared not fight under his flag against the French, whose
subjects we had become. We considered that, and we thought how
much it would injure you all here in Brtinen if it were known that
your sons were in the army of the Prussian king. Principally on
that account we determined to return home, and we left our regi-
ment yesterday morning, which was on the point of marching off
THE RETURN FROM THE ARMY. 387
to Minden, and we walked the entire day and half the night. We
slept a few hours in a forest, and at the break of day we recom-
menced our journey. And now, father, that I have seen you, and
you know every thing, I will go to my room and take off this uni-
form, and become a peasant once more. " He sought to leave the
room hastily, for the amazed, horror-struck expression of his father
was most disagreeable to him.
But Buschman placed his hand so heavily upon his son's arm
that he was compelled to remain. " Say it is a jest, Charles, " he
cried, in an excited voice. "It is not possible for my son, the
brother of my six hero-boys, to speak thus ! It is merely a jest,
Charles. You wished to joke with your old father. It is not true
that you have deserted the flag of our king ; put an end to this cruel
jest, Charles Henry, and show me your leave of absence which
every honest soldier obtains before leaving his regiment. Do you
hear, Charles Henry? Show it to me quickly." He extended his
trembling hand toward his son, while with the other he still held
his arm in a powerful grasp. .
" Father, " said Charles Henry, fiercely, " I have no such paper.
It is as I told you ; we have left the Prussian army because we are
no longer the subjects of the King of Prussia, and it is not necessary
for us to remain in the service. We wish to become peasants once
more. "
" You lie ! you lie !" cried his father. " You are no deserter it
is impossible that my son should be a deserter. "
" No, father, I am no deserter, " returned his son, defiantly, as he
freed his arm from the old man's grasp. " I am no deserter I have
only done my duty as a subject of the French king. I have left the
flag of the enemy, and I am here ready and willing to obey my new
master as a true subject. That is all I have to say, father, and I be-
lieve when you consider, you will see that I was right, and that you
will be pleased for me to take off the Prussian uniform and remain
with you." He did not wait for his father's answer, but left the
room hastily, as if he feared to be again detained.
The old man arose to follow him, but his feet refused their accus-
tomed office ; with a deep groan, he sank upon his chair, and as the
scalding tears streamed from his eyes, he murmured : " Oh, my God !
my son is a deserter ! Why did you permit me to live to see this
shame? Why did you not close my eyes that they might not meet
this disgrace?"
388 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
CHAPTER V.
THE BEAVE FATHERS AND THE COWARDLY SONS.
THE clear bell of the village church was sounding for mass, call
ing the pious inhabitants of Briinen to worship in the temple of
God. All the hut-doors were opening, and men and women in Sun-
day attire wending their way in solemn stillness to church. They
were followed by their children the maidens with downcast, modest
eyes, the boys with bright and joyous faces, proud of the thought
that they were old enough to go to church.
From the distant farm came the servants, two and two, up the
broad chestnut alley, greeting here and there the church-goers, and
walking on with them, chatting softly. They all remained stand-
ing a short time under the great linden, waiting until the bell
ceased, until the church-door was opened and the minister appeared
with the sacristan and the four choir-boys. Not until then were
they allowed to enter the church.
A bright-looking crowd was assembled under the linden ; it seemed
as if all the inhabitants of the village were there. All felt the
necessity of visiting God's house to-day to thank Him for the safe
return of their sons, brothers, and lovers. The twelve boys who had
returned were under the linden in their handsomest Sunday attire.
But why did they stand alone? Why was such a wide space left
between them and the other villagers? Why did the men avoid
looking at them? Why did the maidens step timidly back and re-
main silent when they approached and tried to speak with them?
Why were they all whispering together, pointing at the boys and
turning their backs upon them when they drew near ?
"Leave them alone," whispered one of the boys to the others;
"they will be more friendly this afternoon when the music is play-
ing and the wine and cake is handed. "
" There is my father, and I must go and meet him, " said Charles
Henry, as he hastened toward the old man who was approaching
the square.
All drew back from Charles Henry, and as he stood opposite his
father, like actors upon the stage they found themselves alone
amongst the spectators, who were gazing at them with breathless
expectation.
"Good- morning, father, " said Charles Henry, with forced gayety,
as he offered his hand to his father. "You slept so late to-day, and
went to bed so early yesterday, that I have not been able to speak to
ou since our first greeting. So I bid you good-morrow now."
THE BRAVE FATHERS AND THE COWARDLY SONS. 389
The old man looked quietly at him, but he did not take the prof-
fered hand, and tried to pass him.
" Father, " continued Charles Henry, " you must be tired ; our
hut lies at the other end of the village, and that is a long walk for
your old legs. Rest yourself on me, father, and allow your son to
lead you to church." He stretched forth his hand to take the old
man's arm, but Buschman pushed it back, and passed him, without
looking, without even speaking to him.
Charles Henry sprang after him. "Father," he cried, "do you
not hear me? Can you "
The old man did not really appear to hear him, for he walked
toward the village justice with a quiet, unmoved face, as the latter
advanced to meet him.
"Friend," said Buschman, in a loud, firm voice, "lam fatigued
with my walk ; will you lend me your arm?"
He leaned heavily upon the offered arm, and walked quickly on-
ward. All heard these words, but only the justice saw the tears
which rolled down his pale, sunken cheeks.
'* You were very harsh, father, " murmured the justice, as they
walked on.
"Were you more forgiving?" said the old man, with a trembling
voice. " Was not your son amongst the twelve, and did you speak to
him, or look at him?"
"He did not pass the night in my house; I drove him away!"
said the justice gloomily.
" Oh, oh !" sighed the old man ; " how bitter is our grief ! We
love our children most when they give us most sorrow ; but it must
be so, friend, we cannot act otherwise. Let us enter the church,
and pray God to give us strength to do what is right. "
Supported by the justice, he entered the churchyard, while from
the other side the minister, followed by the sacristan and the choir-
boys, was just appearing.
"See," murmured the justice, "our good old minister has not
come to-day to preach to us ; but has sent his assistant. There is
certainly some disagreeable order of the archbishop to read to us,
and our pastor is not willing to read it ; he is a good Prussian, and
loves the great king. "
The young minister advanced smilingly to meet the two old men.
"Well," said he, with sanctimonious friendliness, as he offered
both of them a hand, "allow me to congratulate you."
"For what?" asked both of them, astonished.
" For the happiness of yesterday. Can there be a greater joy for
fathers than to receive their sons safe and sound from the tumult of
battle? Your sons have returned home, faithfully fulfilling their
390 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
duty to their new master, his Catholic majesty of France. They
abandoned the flag of the heretic king, laid aside his uniform, and
are again simple peasants, ready to assist their fathers in the field.
Come, my young friends, that I may give you the blessing of the
Church, for so resolutely fulfilling your duty. "
He held out his hand to the young men, who were just entering
the churchyard. They obeyed his call the more readily, as it was
the first welcome they had received the first kind word they had
heard since their return. As they approached the minister, the
other men drew back, and entered the church hastily, followed by
their wives and children.
"You will see, father," murmured the justice, as they seated
themselves together in the pew, "that there is an order to-day.
Whenever the assistant is so delighted and friendly, there is some-
thing wrong. They are certainly meditating some villanous trick
against Frederick, and therefore our good pastor is not here. "
The justice had prophesied aright. When the services were over,
and the congregation about to leave the church, the assistant again
mounted the pulpit, and desired them to remain for a while, and
hear what he had to communicate, in the name of the archbishop,
Sir Clement Augustus of Bavaria.
"His eminence, the most honorable archbishop, sends his dear
and faithful children the holy blessing and salutation of the Church.
These are his words : 'We, Clement Augustus, archbishop of Ba-
varia, entreat and command our children in Christ to be faithful to
their new government and their new king, Louis XV. of France,
whose apostolic majesty has taken the sword of the Lord into his
blessed hand, to fight the enemies of the Church, and to chastise
and punish the rebellious heretic prince who has arbitrarily named
himself King of Prussia. God's anger is against him, and He will
crush and destroy the presumptuous mockers of the Lord. Woe
unto them who will not listen to God's voice, who in their mad
blindness cling to this heretic ! Woe unto you if, in the delusion of
your hearts, you still offer him love and faith ! You are released
from all duty to him as subjects and you now have the blessing of
the Church. I, as your shepherd, made so by the holy Pope of
Rome, command you, therefore, to be faithful to your new master
pray that God may bless his arms, and grant him victory over his
ungodly enemy. My anger and dire punishment shall reach any one
who refuses to obey this command. He who dares to stand by the
heretic king, is himself a heretic, and a rebellious subject of the
Church. Be on your guard ; heavy punishment shall meet those
who dare to rejoice over the fame of the so-called great Frederick.
Such rejoicing will be regarded as blasphemy against the holy
THE BRAVE FATHERS AND THE COWARDLY SONS. 391
Mother Church. To conclude, we remain your loving father, and
send our dear children in Christ our most gracious love and greeting. ' "
The men listened to the message of the fanatic archbishop with
gloomy faces and downcast eyes ; but the twelve boys, who at first
stood alone in the aisle, not daring to seat themselves with the others,
now gazed boldly and triumphantly around, seeming to ask if the
villagers did not now acknowledge that they had acted wisely in
returning.
With renewed courage, and somewhat proudly, they were the
first to leave the church, and placed themselves in two rows at the
door. While the congregation was passing by they invited their
dear friends and relations to meet them that afternoon under the
great linden, where they would hold a little festival to celebrate
their safe return.
"We shall come," said the men, with earnest, solemn voices.
" We will be there, " said the mothers, gazing with tearful eyes at the
triumphant faces of their sons. The young maidens whom the boys
invited to dance, passed them in silence.
Old Buschman, alone, did not answer his son's invitation, nor
did he follow the rest to the village, but turned to the side of the
churchyard where his wife was buried. He seated himself upon
her grave, and murmured a few words with trembling lips, raising
his face toward heaven. A sob escaped him every now and then,
and the tears rolled slowly from his eyes. From time to time he
wrung his hands, as if bewailing his sorrow to God and beseeching
His mercy, then brushed away his tears angry with himself for
being so moved.
He sat there a long, long time, struggling with his grief alone
with God and his shame. Approaching steps aroused him ; he
looked up. The village justice stood before him, and gazed at him
with a melancholy smile.
" I knew I would find you here, Father Buschman, and I came
for you. The time is come ; we are all assembled on the square
awaiting you. "
" I come !" said the old man, as he stood up resolutely, giving a
last loving farewell glance at his wife's grave.
The old man no longer needed his friend's arm to support him,
his steps were firm ; his form manly and erect, his venerable coun-
tenance glowed with energy.
By the side of the village justice he walked to the square, under
the great linden. There every thing looked bright and gay. The
boys had taken advantage of the dinner hour to make worthy prepa-
rations for their festival. They had brought fresh evergreens from
the woods, and had made wreaths and festooned them from tree to
392 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
tree around the square. The ground was covered prettily with
flowers and leaves, and the bench under the tree was decorated with
a wreath of field -flowers.
On one side of the square stood several tables covered with bot-
tles of wine and beer and cake and bread ; not far from the tables
was a throne adorned with flowers, where sat the fiddler, gazing
proudly around him, like a king who knows he is the cix>wning
point of the feast.
It certainly had been a long time since the merry sound of the
fiddle had been heard in the village of Briinen. The throne was
surrounded by little boys and girls listening with wondering delight
at the gay music. But the grown girls stood afar off and did not
look even once at the enticing fiddler, but hid themselves timidly
behind the mothers, who were standing with stern faces gazing at
the groups of men waiting anxiously on the other side of the square.
The stillness and universal silence began at last to make the boys
uneasy. They had tried in vain to engage the men in conversation.
They received no answer to their questions, and when they turned
to the women and the maidens, they also remained dumb. The
returned soldiers then went to the other side of the square to talk to
the fiddler and the children ; but when they began to fondle and
play with the little ones, they were called by their fathers and
mothers and bade to remain at their side.
The boys gazed questioningly at one another.
"I am curious to know what this means ; are we to remain stand-
ing here all night?" muttered one of them.
" It appears to me that they are waiting for some one, " murmured
another.
" They are expecting my father, " said Charles Henry ; " and see,
there he comes from the churchyard. The justice went for him. "
When the old man arrived at the square the men advanced to
meet him, conducted him gravely to the bench under the great lin-
den, and assisted him to stand upon it. There he towered above
them, and his pale, venerable face, his silver hairs were visible to all.
Every eye was directed to him, and breathless silence ensued. The
old man raised his arm and pointed toward the side where the
twelve boys stood.
" Come to me, Charles Henry Buschman, " he said, solemnly ; and
as bis son advanced rapidly to him, he continued : "I ask you in the
name of God, if what you told me yesterday is true? Have you
secretly left the flag of your king, our sovereign the great King
Frederick of Prussia? Is it true that you have forsaken your regi-
ment and the flag to which you swore to be faithful?"
" It is true, " said Charles Henry, with assumed daring, " but we
THE BRAVE FATHERS AND THE COWARDLY SONS. 393
were not only justified in doing so our duty compelled us. We are
no longer Prussian subjects, but subjects of the King of France.
You all heard to-day what the minister read to us in church how
the archbishop commanded us to be faithful to our new sovereign.
We could no longer wear the Prussian uniform or be Prussian sol-
diers, therefore we returned to our village. "
"You returned as dishonored, faithless soldiers!" cried the old
man, looking angrily at his son " you returned covered with shame
miserable deserters to the disgrace of your fathers, mothers, your
brothers, sisters, sweethearts, and your friends. You have deserted
the flag of your rightful king, to whom you swore the oath of alle-
giance an oath which God received, and which no man can annul.
Men of Briinen ! shall we stand this shame that our sons bring upon
us? Shall the world point their fingers at us and say : 'These are
the fathers of soldiers who deserted their regiment, and were false
to their king?'"
"No!" cried they all, as with one voice "no, we will not stand
this we will have no deserters as sons !"
The old man bowed his head in silence ; then turned slowly to
the side where the women stood.
" Women and maidens of Briinen ! Will you allow your sons and
brothers who are covered with shame, to stay amongst you? Will
you receive the deserters in your houses and at your tables ? Will
you open your arms to them and call them sons and brothers?"
"No, no!" cried the women and maidens, simultaneously; "we
will not receive them in our houses, or at our tables. We will have
no deserters for sons or brothers !"
The old man stood erect, and, as if inspired with a mighty en-
thusiasm, raised his arm toward heaven, and his countenance
beamed with holy light.
" They must return to their flag, " he cried, in a commanding
voice. "With your blood you must wash the shame from your
brows, and from ours. If God preserves your lives, and you redeem
your honor as brave soldiers of the King of Prussia, then and then
only we will receive you as our sons and welcome you to our arms. "
"So shall it be !" cried the men and the women, and the maidens
murmured their acquiescence.
The old man stepped from the bench and walked forward slowly
to the other side of the square where the twelve young men were
standing gazing at him with terrified faces.
" Return !" cried the old man, stretching his arm toward them
" return to the flag of your king ; we want no deserters amongst us ;
away with you !"
" Away with you !" cried the men " away from our village !"
26
394 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The children, influenced by their parents, cried out with shrill
voices : "Away from our village away !"
The youths were at first stunned, and gazed with staring eyes at
the crowd of angry faces and flashing eyes which menaced them,
then seized with terror, they fled.
" Away with you ! away with the deserters !" was thundered after
them. " Away with you 1" cried their mothers, fathers, brothers,
sisters, and friends.
This fearful cry sounded to them like the peal of the last judg-
ment. With trembling knees, and faces pale as death, they rushed
down the principal street of the village. The crowd started after
them, and like the howling of a storm, shouted behind them :
"Away with you ! away with the deserters !"
On they ran, as if pursued by furies, farther, farther down the
street, but the villagers still chased them. Once only Charles Henry
dared to look around at the pursuers. It was a fearful sight. At
the head of the rest he saw his old father, with his pale face, his
white hair flying in the wind ; raising his arms threateningly
toward him, he cried out in a thundering voice : " Away with you !
away with the deserters !"
Charles Henry rushed onward a cry of terror escaped his lips,
and he fled like a madman.
They had passed the borders of the village it was quiet behind
them they dared to look back they were alone. But on the boun-
dary-line the villagers stood their faces turned toward the fugi-
tives and like the distant croakings of a raven there sounded in
the air : "Away with you ! away with the deserters !"
Breathless, with tottering knees, the boys sank down with hol-
low eyes, speechless with terror, sorrow, and humility, they gazed
at each other.
They did not dare return to the village. Perhaps to appease the
anger of their relations, perhaps because they repented of their cow-
ardice, they returned to their regiment, acknowledged their crime,
and prayed for forgiveness.
Thus the brave fathers of the village of Briinen punished their
cowardly sons, and drove the dishonored and faithless boys to their
duty, perhaps to their death.*
*This account is historical.
THE TRAITOR'S BETRAYAL. 395
CHAPTER VI.
THE TRAITOR'S BETRAYAL.
COUNT RANUZI was alone in his apartments. He sat at his writ
ing-table reading over the two letters he had just written ; a trium-
phant smile was upon his lip as he finished. "It will succeed,"
murmured he, softly; "we will take Magdeburg without a blow,
and thus deprive the King of Prussia of his most valuable fortress.
The plan cannot miscarry ; and then I have only to convince the
empress that I was the soul of this undertaking that I led the
intrigue. Ah, I shall succeed at last I shall occupy a position
worthy of me and as general of our order I shall rule the world. I
shall earn this title at Magdeburg there I will build my throne
there I will reign ! But I must consider it all once more, to see if
no error, no mistake, has escaped me. I first formed a connection
with the officer Von Kimsky, an Austrian prisoner, because through
him I could make connections between the town and the citadel.
Kimsky, at my wish, made some of his town friends acquainted
with the officers of the citadel. It was then necessary to give these
new friends some clew, some aim that would appear innocent to
them, and conceal the real plan. I chose Trenck as the protecting
shield for my undertaking. To inspire him with confidence in my
agents, I obtained a sort of credential letter from Princess Amelia,
and interested her in my cause. She provided me with money,
and gave me, besides the one to Trenck, a letter of recommendation
to a sure, trustworthy friend in Magdeburg. I was now much
nearer my design. On the pretence of working for Trenck, I worked
for myself, for my position of general of the Jesuits, and for a for-
tress for my empress. And thus far all my plans have succeeded.
Trenck has formed a connection with three Prussian officers of the
citadel. These, touched with sympathy for his pitiful condition,
have determined to do all in their power to release him, and are,
therefore, in constant companionship with those whom Trenck calls
his friends. These, in the meantime, are my agents and subordi-
nates ; they act for me while acting for Trenck ; the Prussian officers
do not anticipate that, in helping Trenck to his freedom, they are
helping the Empress of Austria to a new fortress. But so it is.
There is no error in my plan, it will succeed. I can rely on Trenck ;
he is a subject of Maria Theresa, and his thirst for revenge is
mighty. He will gain a fortress for his empress. The avenger,
through whom God has chosen to punish this arrogant, heretical
king, will arise from the depths of a subterranean prison. All that
.396 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
is now left to be done is to acquaint Vienna with the information of
this undertaking, so that we may be assured that an Austrian regi-
ment will be in the vicinity of Magdeburg at the proper time, and
storm the citadel at a sign from us, and not have that, which we
had taken by strategy, torn from us by the King of Prussia's superior
force. Now is a favorable time for this. For Frederick, the hu-
miliated, defeated king, is many miles from Magdeburg ; he has
been compelled to raise the siege of Dresden, and the Austrian troops
are lying there like the Russians at Frankfort. Nor are the French
far off. All these armies will be prepared to hasten to our aid. All
that now remains to be done is to get this news safely to Vienna.
But how to accomplish this is a hard question. It were well could
I go myself. But I am a prisoner of war, and, until Magdeburg is
in our power, this chain will clog me. Another must be sent a
messenger full of courage, determination, and hardihood. I have
said this in my letter to Captain von Kimsky ; he must seek such a
man amongst our sworn friends of the citadel, and give him the
sheet of paper I send in my letter. How harmless, how insignifi-
cant this sheet of paper seems ! and still, were it to fall in the King
of Prussia's hands, it would save him a strong fortress and several
millions of thalers, for all the money of the Dresden treasury was
brought to Magdeburg for safe-keeping. Ah! ah! how much would
Frederick give for these two lines of writing, and how richly would
he reward him who gave him the key to it ! I will send the key by
a different messenger, and therefore this second letter. But even if
both my messengers were intercepted, all is not lost. I have notified
Trenck also to write to Vienna for money and help. He must con-
tinue to be the shield behind which we intrench ourselves. Should
the undertaking miscarry, we will lay it upon Trenck ; should it
succeed, it will be through me, and I will not be tardy in claiming
my reward. The general of our order is old ; should he, however,
persist in living, his tenacious nature must " He did not dare to
finish the sentence ; but a wild, demoniac smile supplied the words
his lips dared not utter. He arose and walked several times up and
down his chamber, completely lost in ambitious dreams of the
future, for whose realization, as a true Jesuit, he shunned no means,
mindful of the motto of their order : " The end sanctifies the means. "
He saw a ring upon his hand that ring, full of significance,
before which kings had often bowed, which was to the Jesuits what
the crown is to the king the sacred sign of power and glory the
indisputable sign of invisible but supreme power. He saw himself,
this ring upon his hand, subjugating nations, rewarding his friends,
punishing his enemies. He suddenly awoke from his dreams, and
remembered the present with a weary smile.
THE TRAITOR'S BETRAYAL. 397
"I must not forget, in dreams of the future, the necessity for
action. I have many important things to do this day. I must take
these letters to Marietta, see her address and post them ; then I must
seek La Trouffle and receive from her leave of absence, on the plea
of visiting a sick friend at Magdeburg. This will be a tedious un-
dertaking, for she will not agree willingly to a separation without
great persuasion. I have much influence over her, and a woman in
love cannot refuse a request to the object of her tenderness. I will
obtain, through Madame du Trouffle, a near and influential relative
of the commandant of Berlin, permission to visit Magdeburg, and
through Marietta Taliazuchi I will post my two important letters."
He laughed aloud as he thought of these two women, so tenderly
devoted to him, both so willing to be deceived by him.
" They love me in very different ways, " said he, as he finished
his toilet preparatory to going out. "Marietta Taliazuchi with the
humility of a slave, Louise du Trouffle with the grateful passion of
an elderly coquette. It would be a problem for a good arithmetician
to solve, which of these two loves would weigh most. Marietta's
love is certainly the more pleasant and comfortable, because the
more humble. Like a faithful dog she lies at my feet ; if I push
her from me, she comes back, lies humbly down, and licks the foot
that kicked her. Away, then, to her, to my tender Marietta."
Hiding his letters in his breast, he took his hat and hastened in
the direction of Marietta's dwelling. She received him in her usual
impassioned manner ; she told him how she had suffered in their
long separation ; how the thought that he might be untrue to her,
that he loved another had filled her with anguish.
Ranuzi laughed. " Still the same old song, Marietta ; always
full of doubt and distrust? Does the lioness still thirst after my
blood? would she lacerate my faithless heart?"
Kneeling, as she often did, at his feet, she rested her arms on
his knees ; then dropping her head on her folded hands, she looked
up at him.
"Can you swear that you are true to me?" said she, in a strange,
sharp tone. " Can you swear that you love no other woman but
me?"
"Yes, I can swear it !" said he, laughing.
" Then do so, " cried she, earnestly.
"Tell me an oath and I will repeat it after you. "
She looked at him firmly for several moments, and strange
shadows crossed her emotional countenance.
Ranuzi did not perceive them ; he was too inattentive, too confi-
dent of success, to entertain doubt or distrust.
"Hear the oath I" said she, after a pause. "'I, Count Carlo
398 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Ranuzi, swear that I love no other woman but Marietta Taliazuchi ;
I swear that, since I have loved her, I have not nor ever shall kiss
r breathe words of love to any other woman. May God's anger
reach me, if my oath is false !'"
The words fell slowly, singly from her lips, and she gazed with
unflinching eyes up at him.
Not a muscle in his countenance moved. Laughing gayly, he
repeated her words ; then bent and kissed her black, shiny hair.
"Are you satisfied now, you silly child?"
" I am satisfied, for you have sworn, " said she, rising from her
knees.
"Will this quiet you now, Marietta?"
"Yes, forever."
" Well, then, now a moment to business. There are two impor-
tant letters, my beautiful darling. You see how boundless my love
for you is I confide these letters to your care, and entreat you to
post them as usual. My heart and my secrets are in your lovely
hands. "
He kissed the hands, and gave her the letters.
Marietta took and looked at them in a timid, fearful manner.
"Do they contain dangerous secrets?" said she.
" Dangerous in the extreme, my lovely one. "
"Were they intercepted and opened, would you be liable to
death ?" said she, in a low, trembling voice.
He saw in these words only her solicitude and love for him.
" Certainly, I would be lost I would have to die were these let-
ters opened. But fear not, my beauteous Marietta they will not
be opened ; no one would dream of intercepting the harmless letters
you direct to your friends at Magdeburg. Apart from that, no one
is aware of our close connection. We have carefully guarded the
holy secret of our love ; when your husband returns from Italy, this
bad world will have no evil rumors to tell of us, and you will be
enclosed in his arms as his faithful wife. When does he come?"
"I expect him in three weeks."
" Many glorious, quiet evenings will we enjoy together before his
return. And now, farewell I must leave you. "
" You must leave me ?"
" I must, Marietta. "
"And where are you going?" said she, looking at him earnestly.
"Jealous again," said he, laughing. "Calm yourself, Marietta,
I go to no woman. Besides this, have you not my oath?"
"Where are you going?" said she, with a sharp questioning look.
" I have an engagement to meet some friends the meeting takes
place in the house of a Catholic priest. Are you satisfied, Marietta?
THE TRAITOR'S BETRAYAL. 399
or do you still fear that some dangerous rendezvous calls me from
you?"
"I fear nothing," said she, smiling ; "you have reassured me."
" Then, my beloved, I entreat you to command me to go, for if
you do not, though I know I ought, I cannot leave you. But, no
first I will see you direct these letters. "
" You shall, " said she, taking a pen and directing them.
Ranuzi took the letters and examined them.
" This simple feminine address is the talisman that protects me
and my secret. And this I owe to you, my darling, to you alone.
But will you finish your work of mercy? Will you post these letters
at once?"
"I will do so, Carlo."
"Will you swear it?" said he, laughing; "swear it to me by our
love. "
" I swear it swear it by my love. "
" And now, farewell, Marietta ! farewell for to-day. To-morrow
I hope to see you again. "
He took her in his arms and whispered words of love and tender-
ness in her ear. He did not notice, in his impatience to leave, how
cold and quiet she was. He took his hat, and bowing gayly left the
room.
She stood where he had left her, her arms hanging listlessly at
her side, her head bowed upon her breast. She listened intently to
his every movement. Now he was on the last stair, now in the hall
when he had crossed it he would be at the street door. With a
wild shriek she fled from the room, and hastened down the steps.
" Carlo ! Carlo ! wait a moment !"
His hand was on the door-knob ; he stood still and looked back.
She was by his side pale, with burning eyes and trembling lips,
she threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately.
" Farewell, my Carlo ! farewell, thou lover of my soul, thou
light of my eyes !"
She kissed his mouth, his eyes, his hands ; she pressed him to
her heart, and then she pushed him from her, saying, in cold, rough
tones, " Go ! go, I say !"
Without again looking at him she hurried up the stairs. Ranuzi,
laughing and shaking his head at her foolishness, left the house
with a contented and assured heart.
400 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
CHAPTER VII.
THE ACCUSATION.
THIS time Marietta did not call him back ; she did not gaze after
him from the window, as she was accustomed to do ; she stood, pale
as death, in the middle of the room, with panting breath, with
flashing eyes ; motionless, but with eager and expectant mien, as if
listening to something afar off.
To what was Marietta listening? Perhaps to the echo of his step
in the silent, isolated street; perhaps to the memories which, like
croaking birds of death, hovered over her head, as if to lacerate and
destroy even her dead happiness ; perhaps she listened to those whis-
pering voices which resounded in her breast and accused Ranuzi of
faithlessness and treachery. And was he, then, really guilty ? Had
he committed a crime worthy of death?
Marietta was still motionless, hearkening to these whispered
voices in her breast.
"I will deliberate yet once more," said she, walking slowly
through the room, and sinking down upon the divan. " I will sit
again in judgment upon him, and my heart, which in the fury of
its pain still loves him, my heart shall be his judge. "
And now she called back once again every thing to her remem-
brance. The golden, sunny stream of her happy youth passed in
review before her, and the precious, blissful days of her first inno-
cent love. She recalled all the agony which this love had caused
her, to whose strong bonds she had ever returned, and which she had
never been able to crush out of her heart. She thought of the day
in which she had first seen Ranuzi in Berlin ; how their hearts had
found each other, and the old love, like a radiant Phoenix, had risen
from the ashes of the past, to open heaven or hell to them both. She
remembered with scornful agitation those happy days of their new-
found youthful love ; she repeated the ardent oaths of everlasting
faith and love which Ranuzi had voluntarily offered ; she remem-
bered how she had warned him, how she had declared that she
would revenge his treachery and inconstancy upon him ; how
indolently, how carelessly he had laughed, and called her his
tigress, his anaconda. She then recalled how suddenly she had
felt his love grow cold, how anxiously she had looked around
to discover what had changed him she could detect nothing. But
an accident came to her assistance a bad, malicious acident.
During the war there were no operas given in Berlin, and Marietta
was entirely unoccupied ; for some time she had been giving singing
THE ACCUSATION. 401
lessons perhaps for distraction, perhaps to increase her income ;
she had, however, carefully preserved this secret from Ranuzi in
the unselfishness of her love she did not wish him to know that she
had need of gold, lest he might offer her assistance.
One of her first scholars was Camilla von Kleist, the daughter of
Madame du Trouffle, and soon teacher and scholar became warm
friends. Camilla, still banished by her mother to the solitude of
the nursery, complained to her new friend of the sorrows of her
home and the weariness of her life. Carried away by Marietta's
sympathy and flattering friendship, the young girl had complained
to the stranger of her mother ; in the desire to make herself appear
an interesting sacrifice to motherly tyranny, she accused that mother
relentlessly ; she told Madame Taliazuchi that she was always treated
as a child because her mother still wished to appear young ; that she
was never allowed to be seen in the saloon in the evening, lest she
might ravish the worshippers and lovers of her mother. Having
gone so far in her confidences, the pitiable daughter of this light-
minded mother went so far as to speak of her mother's adorers. The
last and most dangerous of these, the one she hated most bitterly,
because he came most frequently and occupied most of her mother's
time and thoughts, she declared to be the Count Ranuzi.
This was the beginning of those fearful torments which Marietta
Taliazuchi had for some months endured tortures which increased
with the conviction that there was truly an understanding between
Ranuzi and Madame du Trouffle ; that Ranuzi, under the pretence
of being overwhelmed with important business, refused to pass the
evening with her, yet went regularly every evening to Madame du
Trouffle.
Marietta had endured this torture silently ; she denied herself the
consolation of complaining to any one ; she had the courage, with
smiling lips, to dispute the truth of Camilla's narratives, and to
accuse her of slander ; she would have conviction, she longed for
proof, and Camilla, excited by her incredulity, promised to
give it.
One day, with a triumphant air, she handed Marietta a little note
she had stolen from her mother's writing-desk. It was a poem,
written in French, in which Ranuzi, with the most submissive
love, the most glowing tenderness, besought the beautiful Louise to
allow him to come in the evening, to kneel at her feet and worship
as the faithful worship the mother of God.
Marietta read the poem several times, and then with quiet com-
posure returned it to Camilla ; but her cheeks were deadly pale, and
her lips trembled so violently, that Camilla asked her kindly if she
was not suffering.
402 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Yes," she replied, "I suffer, and we will postpone the lesson.
I must go home and go to bed. "
But Marietta did not go home. Beside herself, almost senseless
with pain and rage, she wandered about through the streets, medi-
tating, reflecting how she might revenge herself for this degrada-
tion, this faithlessness of her beloved.
At last she found the means ; with firm step, with crimson
cheeks, and a strange smile upon her tightly-compressed lips, she
turned toward the castle. There she inquired for the Marquis
d'Argens, and Ranuzi's evil genius willed that D'Argens should be
found at that time in Berlin he was generally only to be seen at
Sans-Souci. Marietta did not know the marquis personally, but
She had heard many anecdotes of the intellectual and amiable Pro-
venal ; she knew that the marquis and the king were warmly at-
tached, and kept up a constant correspondence. For this reason, she
addressed herself to D'Argens ; she knew it was the easiest and
quickest way to bring her communication immediately before the
king The marquis received her kindly, and asked her to make
known her request.
At first Marietta was mute, regret and repentance overcame her ;
for a moment she almost resolved to be silent and to go away.
Soon, however, her wrath was awakened, and armed her with the
courage of despair : with panting breath, with strange disordered
baste, she said : " I have come to tell you a secret an important
secret, which concerns the king. "
The good marquis turned pale, and asked if it related to any
attempt upon the life of the king?
" Not to his life ; but it was a secret of the greatest importance, "
ehe replied. Then, however, when the marquis asked her to make
a full disclosure, she seemed suddenly to see Ranuzi's handsome face
before her ; he looked softly, reproachfully at her with his great
fathomless eyes, whose glance she ever felt in the very depths of her
heart ; she was conscious that the old love was again awake in her,
and by its mighty power crowding out the passion of revenge. A
lingering hesitation and faint-heartedness overcame her confused
and stammering, she said she would only confide her secret to the
king himself, or to that person whom the king would authorize to
receive it.
The marquis, in a vivacious manner, pressed her to speak, and
made conjectures as to the quality of her secret. Marietta found
herself involved in a net of cross-questions and answers, and took
refuge at last in absolute silence. She rose and told the marquis she
would return in eight days, to know whom the king had selected to
receive her communication.
THE ACCUSATION. 403
The eight days had now passed, and Marietta had, during this
time, many struggles with her own heart her ever newly awaken-
ing love pleaded eloquently for forgiveness for the relinquishment
of all her plans of vengeance.* She had almost resolved not to seek
the marquis again, or if she did so, to say that she had been deceived
that the secret was nothing that she had only been bantered and
mystified. But now, all these softer, milder feelings seemed burnt
out in the wild fire of revenge and scorn which blazed through her
whole being. u He is a traitor a shameless liar !" she said, pressing
her small teeth firmly and passionately together ; " he is a coward,
and has not the courage to look a woman in the face and confess the
truth when she demands it ; he is a perjurer, for he took the oath
which I exacted from him he swore to love me alone and no other
woman ; he had the impudent courage to call down the vengeance
of God upon himself if he should break this oath. Why do I hesi-
tate longer?" cried she, springing from her seat ; "the perjured trai-
tor deserves that my betrayed and crushed heart should avenge itself.
He called down the vengeance of God upon himself. Let it crush
him to atoms !"
Now all was decision, courage, energy, and circumspection.
She took the two letters she had received from Ranuzi and concealed
them in her bosom, then dressed herself and left her dwelling.
With a firm step she passed through the streets which led to the
castle. As she drew near the house of Madame du Trouffle, she
hesitated, stood still, and looked up at the windows.
" If only this once he did not deceive me ! If he is not here ; if
he told me the truth !" His countenance had been so open, so calm,
so smiling when he said to her that he had a rendezvous with some
friends at the Catholic priest's ; and in a graceful, roguish mockery,
asked her if she was jealous of that meeting. No, no ! this time he
was true. He could not have played the hypocrite with such smil-
ing composure. Scarcely knowing what she did, Marietta entered
^ *The marquis, in one of his letters to the king, described his interview with Ma-
dame Taliazuchi, with great vivacity and minuteness, and expressed his own sus-
picions and conjectures; which, indeed, came very near the truth, and proved that,
where he was warmly interested, he was a good inquisitor. He entreated Frederick
not to look upon the matter carelessly, as in all probability there was treason on foot,
which extended to Vienna. Madame Taliazuchi had much intercourse in Berlin
with the captive Italian officers, and it might be that one of these officers was carry-
ing ou a dangerous correspondence with Vienna. In closing his letter, the marquis
said : " Enfln, sire, quand il serait vrai que tout ceci ne fut qu'une bete italienne qui
se serait 6chauff6e, et qui aurait pris des chimeres pour des verites, ce qui pourrait
encore bien etre, cette femme ne parait rien moins que prudente et tranquille. Je
crois, cependant, que la peine qu'oo aurait prise de savoir ce qu'elle veut declarer
serait si Iggere, qu'on ne la regretterait pas, quand meme on decouvrirait que cette
femme u'est qu'une folle." " CEuvres de Frederic le Grand," vol. xix. p. 91.
404 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the house, and asked if Camilla was at home then hastened on to
the door of Camilla's room.
The young girl advanced to meet her with a joyous greeting.
" I am glad you have come, Marietta. Without you I should have
been condemned to pass the whole evening shut up in my room,
wearying myself with books. But I am resolved what I will do in
future. If mamma insists upon my being a child still, and banishes
me from the parlor when she has company, I will either run away,
or I will invite company to amuse me. My cousin, Lieutenant
Kienhause, is again in Berlin ; his right arm is wounded, and the
king has given him a furlough, and sent him home. When mamma
is in the saloon, I will invite my cousin here. " She laughed merrily,
and drew Marietta dancing forward. "Now I have company, we
will laugh and be happy. "
"Who is in the saloon?" said Marietta, "and why are you ban-
ished to-day?"
''Well, because of this Italian count this insufferable Ranuzi.
He has been here for an hour, and mamma commanded no one to be
admitted, as she had important business with the count. "
"And you believe that he will remain the whole evening?" said
Marietta.
" I know it ; he remains every evening. "
Marietta felt a cold shudder pass over her, but she was outwardly
calm.
" Poor child !" said she, " you are indeed to be pitied, and, if you
really desire it, you shall have my society ; but first, I have a com-
mission to execute, and then I will bring some notes, and we will
sing together. " She kissed Camilla upon the brow, and withdrew.
The last moment of respite had expired for Ranuzi ; there was no
longer a ray of mercy in Marietta's heart. Rushing forward, she
soon reached the castle, and announced herself to the marquis. She
was introduced into his study, and the marquis advanced to meet
her, smiling, and with an open letter in his hand.
" You come at the right time, madame, " said he ; "an hour since I
received this letter from his majesty. "
" Has the king named the person to whom I am to confide my
secret?" she said, hastily.
" Yes, madame, his majesty has been pleased to appoint me for
that purpose."
" Let me see the letter, " said Marietta, extending her hand.
The marquis drew back. " Pardon me, " said he, " I never allow the
king's letters to pass out of my own hands, and no one but myself
can see them. But I will read you what the king says in relation
to this affair, and you will surely believe my word of honor.
THE ACCUSATION. 405
Listen, then : ' Soyez, marquis, le depositaire de mes secrets, le con-
fidant des mysteres de Madame Taliazuchi, 1'oreille du trone, et le
sanctuaire ou s'annonceront les complots de mes ennemis. ' * Ma-
dame, you see that I am fully empowered by the king to receive
your confidence, and I am ready to hear what you will have the
goodness to relate. " He led her to a divan, and seated himself op-
posite to her.
"Tell the king to be on his guard !'' said Marietta, solemnly. "A
great and wide-spread conspiracy threatens him. I have been made
a tool by false pretences ; by lies and treachery my confidence was
surreptitiously obtained. Oh, my God !" cried she, suddenly spring-
ing up ; "now all is clear. I was nothing but an instrument of his
intrigues ; only the weak means made use of to attain his object.
He stole my love, and made of it a comfortable, convenient robe
with which to conceal his politics. Alas ! alas ! I have been his
postilion de politigue. " With a loud, wild cry, she sank back upon
the divan, and a torrent of tears gushed from her eyes.
The marquis sprang up in terror, and drew near the door ; he
was now fully convinced that the woman was mad.
" Madame, " said he, " allow me to call for assistance. You ap-
pear to be truly suffering, and in a state of great excitement. It
will be best for you, without doubt, to forget all these political in-
terests, and attend to your physical condition. "
Marietta, however, had again recovered her presence of mind ;
she glanced with a wan smile into the anxious countenance of the
marquis.
" Fear nothing, sir, I am not mad ; return to your seat. I have
no weapons, and will injure no one. The dagger which I carry is
piercing my own heart, and from time to time the wound pains ;
that is all. I promise you to make no sound, to be gentle and calm
come, then. "
The marquis returned, but seated himself somewhat farther from
the signora.
" I tell you, " said Marietta, panting for breath, " that he made
use of my credulity made me a tool of his political intrigues these
* " I will give the conclusion of this letter which the polite marquis did not read
aloud: 'Pour quitter le style oriental, je vous avertis que vous aurez ToreiHe le-
battue de miseres et de petites intrigues de prisonniers obscure et qui ne vaudront pas'
le temps que vous perdrez a les entendre. Je connais ces especes de personnes du
genre de Madame Taliazuchi elles envisagent les petites choses comme tres-impor-
tantes; elles sont charmees de flgurer en politique, de jouer tin role, de faire les
capables d'etaler avec faste le zele de leur fldelite. J'ai vu souvent que ces beaux
secrets reveles n'ont et6 que des intrigues pour nuire au tiers ou au quart a des gens
auxquelles ces sortes de personnes veulent du mal. Ainsi, quoique cette femme
vous puisse dire, gardez-vous bien d'y ajouter foi, et que votre cervelle provencal ne
'echauffe pas au premier bruit de ces r6clta.' " QEuvree, vol xix., p. 92.
406 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
intrigues which threaten the lands if not the life of the king. The
treason I will disclose would place an important fortress in the hands
of the Austrians. "
"And you are convinced that this is no chimera?" said the mar-
quis, with an incredulous smile.
" I am convinced of it, and I have the incontestable proof with
me. " She took the two letters which she had received from Ranuzi,
and gave them to the marquis. " Take them, and send them to the
king , but, not to-morrow, not when it is convenient, but to-day ;
even this hour. If you are not prompt, in eight days King Frederick
will be a fortress the poorer. Besides this, say to his majesty to be
ever on his guard against the captive officers in Berlin, especially
on his guard against my countryman, Count Ranuzi. He is the soul
of this enterprise ; he has originated this daring undertaking, and,
if this falls to pieces, he will commence anew. He is a dangerous
enemy a serpent, whose sting is most deadly, most to be feared
when he seems most gentle, most quiet. Say to King Frederick he
will do well to protect himself from the traitor, the Austrian spy,
Ranuzi." Marietta stood up, and bowing to the marquis, she ad-
vanced to the door. D' Argons held her back.
" Madame, " said he, " if these things are really so, Count Ranuzi
is a man to be feared, and we should make sure of him. "
" He is indeed a dangerous man, " said Marietta, with a peculiar
smile. " Ask the beautiful Madame du Trouffle ; she will confirm
my words. "
The black, flashing eyes of the marquis fixed themselves search-
ingly upon the face of the signora. He remembered that the king
had warned him to be upon his guard as to the communication of
Madame Taliazuchi, that such mysteries were often nothing more
than feigned intrigues, by which the discoverer sought to bring-
sorrow and downfall to an enemy.
" Ah, signora ! I understand now, " said the marquis ; " you did
not come here for patriotism or love for Prussia or her king, but
from frantic jealousy ; not to serve King Frederick, but to over-
throw Ranuzi."
Marietta shrugged her shoulders with a contemptuous expression.
" I am an Italian, " said she, laconically.
"And the Italians love revenge," said the marquis.
"When one dares to injure them yes."
"This Count Ranuzi has dared to injure you?"
A flash of scorn flamed for a moment in her eyes, then disap-
peared. "Would I otherwise have betrayed him?" said sho. "I
am an Italian, and you cannot ask that I shall feel patriotism for
King Frederick or for Prussia. Count Ranuzi is my countryman.
THE ACCUSATION. 407
judge, then, how deeply I have been injured when I betray him,
and give him over to death."
"To death? it is also then a crime worthy of death which these
letters will disclose to the king? You do not deceive yourself?
Your thirst for revenge does not make these things appear blacker,
more important than they really are?"
" No, I do not deceive myself. I speak but the simple truth. "
"Then," said the marquis, with horror, "it is dangerous to leave
Ranuzi at liberty. I must apply to the commandant of Berlin, and
ask that he be arrested upon my responsibility."
Marietta was already at the door, but these words of the marquis
arrested her. With her hand resting upon the bolt, she stood and
turned her pale face back to D'Argens. "Certainly, it would be
best and surest to arrest him instantly, " said she ; and her heart
bounded with delight when she said to herself, with cruel pleasure :
w When once arrested, he can go no more to Madame du Trouffle. "
The marquis did not reply, but he stepped thoughtfully through the
room. Marietta's eyes followed every movement with a fiery
glance. At length the marquis stood before her.
" I cannot take upon myself the responsibility of arresting this
man. I do not know that these letters, which I shall send to the
king, are really as dangerous as you say. The king must decide ;
I will send them off by a courier to-day. But, in every event,
Ranuzi must be watched, and you shall be his guard. You must see
that he does not escape. I make you answerable. Ranuzi must
not leave Berlin , and when the king's answer is received, he must
be found here."
" You shall find him with me, " said she ; " and if not, I shall at
least be able to tell you where be is. Fear nothing ; he shall not
escape ! I am his guard ! When you receive the reply of the king,
have the goodness to inform me. This is the only reward I de-
mand. " *
"I will inform you, madame, " said the marquis, opening the
door; "and, as to the Count Ranuzi, I read in your features that
you hate him with a bitter hatred, and will not allow him to escape. "
* D'Argens wrote to the king: " 85 rotre majest <' ne m'avait point crit en propres
termes Quoique cette fernrne puisse vous dire, gardez-vous bien d'y ajouter foi.
J'aurai pri6 le commandant de faire arreter le nomm6 Ranuzi jusqu'a ce qu'elle eut
mam l('i ce qu'elle veut qu'on en fosse; cethomme me paraissant un espion de plus
aeres. Mais je me suis contents de dire a Madame Taliazuchi que si cet homme sor-
tait de Berlin, avant la r6ponse de votre majest6 elle en repondrait, et elle m'a
assur6 qu'elle le retiendrait " (Kuvres, vol. xix., p. 93.
408 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
CHAPTER VIII.
REVENGE.
FIVE days had passed since Marietta's interview with the mar-
quis. They had wrought no change in her heart ; noc ' r a single
instant had her thirst for revenge been allayed. Her hatred of
Ranuzi seemed to have become more intense, more passionate, since
she understood his plans since she had learned that he had never
loved her, and that she was merely the instrument of his intrigues.
Since that time she had watched his every thought and deed.
One day while apparently embracing him, and whispering words
of endearment in his ear, she had secretly drawn a folded paper
from his pocket, which had just been brought to him by a strange
servant who, having vainly sought him at his own house, had fol-
lowed him to that of Marietta. Having thus obtained the paper,
she made an excuse for leaving the room in order to inspect it. She
carefully closed the door of the room in which Ranuzi sat, and then
examined the paper. After reading it, she drew her note-book from
her pocket, and hastily tearing out a leaf, she wrote upon it with a
pencil : "Lose no time, if you do not wish him to escape. He has
received to-day, through the agency of Madame du Trouffle, the
necessary passport and permission to go to Magdeburg. I have no
longer the power to detain him. What is done must be done
quickly. "
She folded the paper and passed cautiously through the hall and
into the kitchen where her maid was. "Listen, Sophie," she said ;
" take this note and go as quickly as you can to the castle and ask
for the Marquis d'Argens. You must give the note into his own
hands, and if you bring me an answer within the hour, I will re-
ward you as if I were a queen. Do not speak, only go. "
The maid hurried down the steps, and Marietta returned, smil-
ingly, to Ranuzi, who received her with reproaches for her long
absence .
" I have arranged a little supper for us, and have sent my maid
to obtain some necessary articles. You will not leave me to-day, as
you always do, to go to your conference with the Catholic priest. "
"I would not, Marietta, but I must," said Ranuzi. "Believe me,
my dear child, if I followed the dictates of my heart, I would never
leave this room, which in my thoughts I always call my paradise,
and in which I enjoy my only bright and happy moments. But
what would you have, my angel? It is not ordained that men
should have undisturbed possession of the joys of paradise. Mother
REVENGE. 409
Eve sinned, and we must expiate her misdeeds. I must leave you
again to-day to join that conference which you so heartily detest. "
"But not yet," she said, tenderly, putting her arms about his
neck. " You will not leave me yet?"
Thus besought, he promised to remain. Never was he more
amiable, more brilliant, more attentive, or more tender. Never
was Marietta gayer, more excited, or more enchanting. Both had
their reasons for this both had their intentions. Love smiled upon
their lips, but it was not in their hearts each wished to deceive the
other. Ranuzi wished to quiet every suspicion by his tenderness
she must not dream that this was their last meeting, and that he
intended leaving Berlin this night, perhaps forever. Marietta
wished to chain him to her side and prevent his departure.
Time flew by amid gay laughter and tender jests, and at length
Marietta heard the house-door open and hurried steps mounting the
stairway. It was the maid who had returned. Marietta's heart
beat so violently that she could scarcely conceal her emotion.
" The maid has returned with her purchases, " she said, hastily ;
" I will go out and tell her that you cannot remain with me to-day."
She left the room and met Sophie in the hall, who was quite out of
breath with her hurried walk, and who handed her a note. Mari-
etta broke the seal with trembling hands. It contained only these
words : " Keep him but a few moments longer, and one will arrive
who will release you from your watch, and relieve you forever from
your enemy by bearing him to prison. The answer of the one to
whom I sent your paper has come ; he is condemned. "
" Very well, Sophie, " said Marietta, concealing the paper in her
bosom. "When the count leaves, you shall receive your reward.
Now listen ; the soldiers are coming. As soon as you hear them on
the steps, you must tap at my door, that I may know they have
arrived. "
She hastened back to Ranuzi, but she no longer smiled she no
longer approached him with open arms but she advanced toward
him with flashing eyes, with her arms folded haughtily across her
breast, and her countenance pal6 with passion.
"Ranuzi, the hour of revenge has come I You have most shame-
fully betrayed and deceived me you have mocked my love you
have trodden my heart under foot. Lies were upon your lips lies
were in your heart. And whilst you swore to me that you loved no
other, you had already betrayed me to a woman. I am acquainted
with Madame du Trouffle, and I know that you visit her every even-
ing. This was the conference with the Catholic fathers, for whose
*;"':r> you left me. Oh, I know all all ! I will not reproach you ;
1 .\ i !1 not tell you of the martyrdom I suffered of the wretched days
27
410 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
and nights through which I wept and sighed, until at length I over
came the love I had borne you. That suffering is passed. But you
have not forgotten that I once said to you : ' Should you forsake me,
or turn faithlessly from me, I will be revenged. '"
"I have not forgotten," said Ranuzi, "and I know that you will
fulfil your promise ; but before you do so before you point me out
to the government as a dangerous spy you will listen to my de-
fence, and only then if you are not satisfied, will you condemn me,
and revenge yourself. "
" I have all-sufficient proof, " she said. " Day by day, hour by
hour, have these proofs been forced upon me, as the contents of the
poisoned cup are forced upon the condemned man. My love and
happiness are dead, but you also shall die you also shall suffer as I
have done. My love was insufficient to keep for me a place in your
memory ; perhaps my revenge will do so. When you are wretched
and miserable, think of me and repent. "
" Repent of what ?" he asked, proudly. " I have done nothing of
which I am ashamed nothing of which I repent. I have offered
up my entire life, my eveiy thought and desire, to a holy, a noble
cause. To it I have subjected all my feelings, wishes, and hopes,
and had it been necessary, I would without tears have sacrificed all
that was dearest to me on earth. It became necessary for the good
of this cause that I should appear to betray your love. A plan had
been formed in which this woman you have just named could alone
aid me. I dared not ask my heart what it suffered, for my head
told me that this woman was necessary to me, and it became my
duty to obtain her assistance by any means. So I became the daily
companion of Madame du Trouffle, so "
A light tap at the door interrupted the count, and startled him
inexplicably.
" What does that mean?" he asked, turning pale.
Marietta laughed aloud. "That means," she said, slowly and
scornfully, " that you will not go to Magdeburg to-morrow that you
cannot make use of the passport which your beloved Madame du
Trouffle obtained for you. Ah, you wished to leave me secretly
you did not wish me to suspect your intended departure. You were
mistaken, Ranuzi. You will remain in Berlin, but you will never
go to her again. I will prevent that."
At this moment loud knocking was heard at the door, and two
policemen entered the room without waiting for an invitation, and
through the open door armed soldiers might be seen in the hall
guarding the entrance.
When Ranuzi first beheld these servants of justice, he shuddered
and became deathly pale, but as they approached him, he recovered
REVENGE. 411
his wonted composure, and advanced proudly and coldly to meet
them.
" Are you Count Ranuzi ?" asked one of the policemen.
" I am, " he said, calmly.
" I arrest you in the name of the king ; you are our prisoner. "
" With what offence am I charged ?" asked he, as he slowly placed
his hand in his bosom.
"The court-martial will inform you."
" Ah, I am to be tried by a court-martial. Spies and conspirators
are always thus tided. I am charged then with spying and conspir-
ing, " cried Ranuzi, and then slowly turning to Marietta, he asked:
" And this is your work ?"
" Yes ; this is my work, " she said, triumphantly.
"You must come now," said the policeman, roughly, as he
stepped nearer to Ranuzi, at the same time giving his companion a
sign to do the same. "Come immediately and quietly. Do not
compel us to use force. "
" Force, " cried Ranuzi, shrugging his shoulders, as he drew his
hand from his bosom and pointed a pistol toward the policemen,
from which they shrunk back terrified. " You see that I need not
fear force, " he said. " If you dare to approach nearer or lay your
hand on me I will fire on both of you, for happily my pistol has
more than one ball, and it never fails. You see that we are playing
a dangerous game, upon whose issue may depend your lives as well
as mine. I can shoot you if I desire it, or I can direct this weapon
against my own brow if I wish to avoid investigation or imprison-
ment. But I promise you to do neither the one nor the other, if you
will give me the time to say a few words to this lady. "
"Be quick, then," said the policeman, "or I will call in the
soldiers, and they can shoot you as easily as you could shoot
us."
Ranuzi shrugged his shoulders. " You will be very careful not
to shoot me. The dead do not speak, and it is very important for
my judges that I should speak. Go to that door ; I give my word
that I will follow you. "
As if to strengthen his words, he raised the hand which held the
pistol, and the two men withdrew with threatening glances, to the
door.
Ranuzi then turned again to Marietta, who turned her great
flashing eyes upon him with an expression of anger and astonish-
ment, mixed with hatred and admiration.
"Marietta," he said, gently. She trembled at the sound of his
voice. He perceived this, and smiled. "Marietta," he repeated,
" you have betrayed me ; you have revenged your love J I do not
412 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
reproach you, my anaconda, but I pray you to tell me one thing ; did
you send the last letters which I gave you to the post?"
" No, " she replied, compelling her eyes, with a mighty effort, to
meet his
" Wretch ! What did you do with them. "
" I sent them to the King of Prussia. "
Ranuzi uttered a shriek, and fell back a step. "Then I am in-
deed lost, " he murmured, "as well as that unhappy creature, who
pines for light and freedom. Poor Trenck ! Poor Amelia ! All is
lost ; all through the jealousy of this wretched woman. I tell you,
Marietta, " he continued aloud, as he placed his hand heavily on her
shoulder, " it is not necessary that I should curse you, you will do
that yourself. This hour will act as deadly poison on your heart, of
which you will die. It is true, you have revenged yourself. To-
day you rejoice in this, for you believe that you hate me, but to-
morrow you will repent ; to-morrow grief will overtake you, and it
will grow with every day you will feel that you must love me for
ever and ever ; you must love me, because you have wrought my
ruin. Yes, you are right you have discovered the means to keep
yourself in my remembrance. In my dungeon I will think of you.
I will do so, and curse you ; but you also will think of me ; and
when you do, you will wring your hands and curse yourself, for re-
venge will not kill the love in your heart. Be that your punish-
ment. Farewell !"
He passed before her, and quietly approached the policemen.
' Come, gentlemen, I am quite ready to follow you ; and that you
may be entirely at ease I will leave my pistol here. It is my legacy
to that lady my last souvenir. Perhaps she may use it in the
future. "
He placed the pistol upon her writing-table and hastily ap-
proached the door. "Come, gentlemen ; I am your prisoner !"
He signed to them to follow him, and walked proudly through
the hall.
Marietta stood there trembling and deadly pale her eyes dilated,
her lips opened, as if to utter a shriek. Thus she watched him,
breathless, and as if enchained with horror.
Now she saw him open the door of the hall, and throwing back
at her one cold, flashing glance, he went out, followed by the police
and the soldiers.
" He is gone ! he is gone P' she shrieked, as if in a frenzy. " They
are leading him to imprisonment perhaps to death. Oh, to death !
It is I who have murdered him. He is right. I am indeed cursed.
I have murdered him, and I love him. " And with a wild shriek
she sank fainting to the ground.
TRENCK. 413
CHAPTER IX.
TRENCK.
TRENCK still lived ; neither chains nor years of loneliness had
broken his strength or bowed his spirit. His tall, gigantic form had
shrunk to a skeleton ; his hair had whitened and hung around his
hollow face like an ashen veil. Heavy chains clasped his feet and
his throat ; a broad iron band encircled his waist, which was at-
tached to the wall by a short chain a thick bar held his hands
apart ; but still he lived. For years he had paced, with short, rest-
less steps, this little space that covered his grave ; but he smiled
derisively at the coarse stone which bore his name.
Trenck still lived. He lived because he had a fixed desire, a
grand aim in view he thirsted for freedom, and believed it attain-
able. Trenck could not die, for without was liberty, the sun, life,
and honor. He would not die ; for to be willing to die, he must
first have lived. His life had been so short a few fleeting years of
youth, of careless enjoyment a joyous dream of love and ambition !
This had been his fate. Then came long, weary years of imprison-
ment a something which he knew not, but it was not life had
crept to "him in his prison, and with a cruel hand marked years
upon his brow years through which he had not lived, but suffered.
And still he remained young in spite of gray hairs and wrinkles.
He glowed with hope and defiance ; his sluggish blood was warmed
from time to time with new hopes, new expectations. His imagi-
nation painted wonderful pictures of future happiness. This hope
always remained smiling and vigorous ; notwithstanding his many
disappointments his many useless attempts to escape, Trenck still
hoped for freedom. As often as the subterranean passages which
he dug were discovered, he recommenced his work, and dug new
ones ; when the sentinels whom he had won by gold and flattery
were detected and punished, he found means to obtain other friends.
Truly, friends did not fail ; the buried but still living prisoner
had friends who never forgot him ; bold, loving friends, risking
their lives for him. The mighty power of his great misfortunes
won him friends. The soldiers who guarded him were seized with
shuddering horror and pity at the sight of this sunken form, remind-
ing them of the picture of the skeleton and the hour-glass which
hung in the village church. Trenck knew how to profit by this.
The officers, who came every day to inspect his prison, were charmed
and amazed by the freshness of his spirit, his bright conversation,
and gay remarks. These interviews were the only interruption to
414 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the dulness of their garrison life. They came to him to be cheered.
Not being willing to sit with him in the dark, they brought their
lights with them ; they opened the door of his cell that they might
not be obliged to remain with him in the damp, putrid air. They
wondered at his firmness and courage ; they sympathized with his
youth and loneliness, and this sympathy made for him earnest, use-
ful friends, who revelled in the thought that Trenck's renewed
attempts at escape would at last be crowned with happy results, that
he would obtain his freedom.
He was on the eve of a great day. To-morrow he would live
again, to-morrow he would be free ; this time it was no chimera,
no dream he must succeed.
" Yes, my plan cannot fail, " murmured Trenck, as he sat upon
his stone seat and gazed at the iron door, which had just closed be-
hind the Commandant Bruckhausen . " My cruel jailer has discovered
nothing, carefully as he searched my cell ; this time I have dug no
mines, broken no walls ; this time I shall pass through that door,
my comrades will greet me joyfully, and the poor prisoner shall be
the mighty commander of the fortress. Only one night more, one
single night of patience, and life, and love, and the world shall again
belong to me. Oh, I feel as if I would go mad with joy. I have had
strength to endure misfortunes, but perhaps the rapture of freedom
may be fatal. My God ! my God ! if I should lose my senses ! if the
light of the sun should scorch my brain ! if the hum of the busy
world should crush my spirit !"
He lifted his hands in terror to his brow ; he felt as if wrapped
in flames, as if fire were rising from his brain ; the chains rattled
around him with unearthly sounds. " The slightest error, the least
forgetfulness would endanger my plan. I will be quiet I will re-
peat once more all that we have agreed upon. But first away with
these slavish chains, to-morrow I shall be a free man ; I will com-
mence my role to-day. "
He removed the handcuffs, and with his free right hand loosened
the girdle from his waist, at the point where the blacksmith, who
fastened it upon him, told him it might be opened by a pressure
light as a feather. Now he was free ; he stretched with delight his
thin, meagre form, and let his arms swing in the air as if to prove
their muscle.
This was a sweet, a wonderful prelude to freedom ; many weeks
and months he had worked upon these chains to prepare for the
moment of freedom. Now these chains had fallen. He was already
a free man ; he cared not for these dark, damp walls. He did not
see them ; he was already without, where the sun was shining, the
birds were singing ; where the blue arch of heaven looked down
TRENCK. 415
upon the blooming earth. Wha di<' he care for the death-like still-
ness which surroundec bim 9 he heard the noise in the streets; he
saw men running here and there in busy haste ; he listened to their
bright conversation, their merry laughter ; he mixed among them
with lively greeting, and shared their joys and cares.
Suddenly he again pressed his brow fearfully, and cried ; " I shall
go mad ! A thousand dancing pictures and happy faces are swarm-
ing around me ; I shall go mad ! But no, I will control myself ; I
will be calm." He raised his head with his accustomed bold defi-
ance. " I will look freedom in the face ; my eyelids shall not quiver
and my heart shall beat calmly. I will be quiet and thoughtful. I
will think it all over once more. Listen to me, oh friend ! you,
who have heard all my sighs and my despair ; you, who know my
misery ; listen to me, oh gloomy cell. You have always been faith-
ful ; you have never wished to forsake or leave me ; and when I
struggled to escape, you called me always back. But this is our last
day together ; you shall hear my confession, I will tell you all my
plans, by what means I shall escape from you, my ^rue friend, my
dark, dreary cell. Know first that this garrison is composed of
nine hundred men, who are much dissatisfied. It will not be diffi-
cult to win them, particularly if they are well bribed. Besides this,
there are two majors and two lieutenants conspiring with me ; they
will tell their soldiers what to do. The guard at the star-port, is
composed of but fifteen men, and if they do not obey me willingly,
we will know how to compel obedience. At the end of the star-port
lies the city gate. At this only twelve men and one officer are sta-
tioned ; these we shall easily overpower. On the other side, close
to the gate, the Austrian Captain von Kimsky is awaiting me with
the remainder of the prisoners of war. All the officers, who have
pledged themselves to assist my undertaking, are concealed in a safe
house rented for this purpose. At my first call they will rush for-
ward and fall upon the guard ; we will overpower them and enter
the city. There other friends await us ; one of them, under some
pretext, holds in his quarters arms for his company, and at my call
he will join me with his armed band. Oh my God ! my God ! I see
every thing so plainly and clearly before me. I see myself rushing
joyfully through the streets, dashing into the casemates, which con-
tain nine thousand prisoners. I call to them: 'Up, comrades, up;
I am Frederick von Trenck, your captain and your leader ; arm
yourselves and follow me. ' I hear them greet me joyfully and cry,
' Long live Trenck !' They take their arms and we rush to the other
casemates, where seven thousand Austrian and Russian prisoners
are confined. "We free them, and I head a little army of sixteen
thousand men. Magdeburg is mine ; the fortress, the magazine of
416 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
the army, the treasury, the arsenal, all is in our power. I shall
conquer all for Maria Theresa. Oh, King Frederick ! King Fred-
erick ! I shall avenge myself on you for these long years of misery,
for the martyrdom of this fearful imprisonment. Trenck will not
be obliged to leave Magdeburg ; he will drive away the Prussians,
and make himself master. "
He laughed so loudly that the old walls echoed the sound, and a
wailing sigh seemed to glide along the building. Trenck started
and looked timidly around him.
" I am still alone, " he murmured, " no one has heard my words ;
no, no one but you, " he continued cheerfully, " my old silent friend,
my faithful prison. To-morrow morning the officer on guard will
enter and order the sentinels to remove the bed ; as soon as they
enter I shall rush out and lock the door. The sentinels being locked
up, I put on the clothes which are lying in readiness for me in the
passage, and then forward to my soldiers. I shall distribute gold
freely among them a friend will meet me with the money at the
house of Captain von Kleist, and if he has not sufficient, Amelia
has richly supplied me. Arise, arise from your grave, my secret
treasures. "
He crouched close to the wall and removed the mortar and chalk
carefully ; he then drew out a stone and took from under it a purse
full of gold.
His eye, accustomed to the darkness, saw the gold through the
silk net ; he nodded to it and laughed with delight as he poured it
out and played madly with it. His countenance suddenly assumed
an earnest expression.
"Poor Amelia, "he murmured softly, "you have sacrificed your
life, your beauty, and your youth for me. With never- failing zeal
you have moved around me like my guardian angel, and how am I
repay ing you? By taking from your brother, King Frederick, his
finest fortress, his money, his provisions ; by compelling you and
yours to fly from a city which no longer belongs to you, but to the
Empress of Austria, your enemy. With your money I have taken
this city ; Amelia, you are ignorant of this now, and when you learn
it, perhaps you will curse me and execrate the love which has
poisoned your whole life. Oh, Amelia ! Amelia, forgive me for be-
traying you also. My unfortunate duty is forcing me onward, and
I must obey. Yes," he said, springing from his seat, "I must yield
to my fate, I must be free again I must be a man once more ; I can
sit no longer like a wild animal in his cage, and tell my grief and
my despair to the cold walls. I must reconquer life I must again
see the sun, the world, and mankind I must live, suffer, and act."
He walked violently to and fro, his w y hole being was in feverish
"TRENCK, ARE YOU THERE?" 417
expectation and excitement, and he felt alarmed. Suddenly he
remained standing ; pressing his two hands against his beating tem-
ples, he murmured :
"I shall indeed go mad. Joy at my approaching deliverance
confuses my poor head ; I will try to sleep, to be calm collect my
strength for to-morrow. "
He lay down upon his miserable couch, and forced himself to be
quiet and silent not to speak aloud to himself in his lonely cell, as
he was accustomed to do. Gradually the mad tension of his nerves
relaxed, gradually his eyes closed, and a soft, beneficial slumber
came over him.
All was still in the dark cell ; nothing was to be heard but the
loud breathing of the sleeper ; but even in sleep, visions of life and
liberty rejoiced his heart his face beamed with heavenly joy ; he
murmured softly, " I am free ! free at last !"
The hours passed away, but Trenck still slumbered profound
stillness surrounded him. The outer world had long since been
awake the sun was up, and had sent a clear beam of its glory
through the small, thickly-barred window, even into the comfort-
less, desolate cell, and changed the gloom of darkness into a faint
twilight.
CHAPTER X.
"TRENCK, ARE YOU THERE?"
TRENCK slept. Sleep on, sleep on, unfortunate prisoner, for
while asleep you are free and joyous ; when you awake, your happy
dreams will vanish ; agony and despair will be your only com-
panions.
Listen ! there are steps in the passage ; Trenck does not hear
them he still sleeps. But now a key is turned, the door is opened,
and Trenck springs from his pallet.
"Are you there, my friends? Is all ready?"
But he totters back with a fearful shriek, his eyes fixed despair-
ingly upon the door. There stood Von Bruckhausen, the prison
commandant, beside him several officers, behind them a crowd of
soldiers.
This vision explained all to Trenck. It told him that his plan
had miscarried that again all had been in vain. It told him that
he must remain what he was, a poor, wretched prisoner more
wretched than before, for they would now find out that when alone
he could release himself from his chains. They would find his gold,
418 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
which he had taken from its hiding-place, and was now lying loosely
upon the floor.
"I am lost!" said he, covering his face with his hands, and
throwing himself upon his bed.
A malignant smile brightened up Von Bruckhausen's disagree-
able countenance, as his eye took in the broken chains, the glitter-
ing gold, and the despairing prisoner. He then ordered the soldiers
to raise the chains and fasten them on him.
Trenck made no resistance. He suffered them quietly to adjust
his iron belt, to fasten the chain around his neck. He seemed in-
sensible to all that was passing. This fearful blow had annihilated
him ; and the giant who, but a short time before, had thought to
conquer the world, was now a weak, trembling, defenceless child.
When he was ordered to rise to have the chains annexed to his iron
girdle, and fastened to the wall, he rose at once, and stretched out
his hand for the manacles. Now the commandant dared approach
Trenck ; he had no fear of the chained lion, he could jeer at and
mock without danger. He did it with the wrath of a soul hard and
pitiless ; with the deep, unutterable hate of an implacable enemy ;
for Trenck was his enemy, his much-feared enemy ; he drove sleep
from his eyes he followed him in his dreams. Often at midnight
Von Bruckhausen rose in terror from his couch, because he dreamed
that Trenck had escaped, and that he must now take his place in
that dark, fearful tomb. Surrounded by gay companions, he would
turn pale and shudder at the thougth of Trenck 's escaping Trenck,
whose fearful cell was then destined to be his. This constant fear
and anxiety caused the commandant to see in Trenck not the king's
prisoner, but his own personal enemy, with whom he must do battle
to his utmost strength, with all the wrath and fear of a timid soul.
With a cold, malicious smile he informed him that his plot had
been discovered, that his mad plan was known ; he had wished to
take the fortress of Magdeburg and place upon it the Austrian flag.
With a jeering smile he held up to him the letter Trenck had sent
to his friend in Vienna, in which, without mentioning names, he
had made a slight sketch of his plan.
" Will you deny that you wrote this letter?" cried the comman-
dant, in a threatening voice.
Trenck did not answer. His head was bowed upon his breast
he was gazing down in silence.
" You will be forced to name your accomplices, " cried the enraged
commandant; "there is no palliation for a traitor, and if you do
not name them at once, I shall subject you to the lash. "
An unearthly yell issued from Trenck 's pale lips, and as he raised
his head, his countenance was expressive of such wild, such terrible
"TRENCK, ARE YOU THERE?" 419
rage, that Bruckhausen drew away from him in affright. Trenck
had awakened from his lethargy ; he had found again his strength
and energy, he was Trenck once more the Trenck feared by Von
Bruckhausen, though lying in chains, the Trenck whom nothing
could bend, nothing discourage.
" He who dares to whip me shall die, " said he, gazing wildly at
the commandant. "With my nails, with my teeth, will I kill
him."
"Name your accomplices!" cried Bruckhausen, stamping upon
the ground in his rage.
It was Trenck who now laughed. "Ah, you think to intimidate
me with your angry voice," said he. "You think your word has
power to make me disclose that which I wish to keep secret. You
think I will betray my friends, do you? Learn what a poor, weak,
incapable human being you are, for not one of the things you wish
shall occur. No, I shall not be so contemptible as to betray my
friends. Were I to do so, then were I a traitor deserving of this
wretched cell, of these fearful chains, for I would then be a stranger
to the first, the holiest virtue, gratitude. But no, I will not. I was
innocent when these chains were put on me innocent I will
remain. "
"Innocent !" cried the commandant ; "you who wished to deliver
to the enemy a fortress of your sovereign ! You call yourself inno-
cent?"
Trenck raised himself from his bed, and threw back his head
proudly. " I am no longer a subject of the King of Prussia, " said
he ; " he is no longer my sovereign. Many years ago I was thrown
into prison at Glatz without court-martial or trial. When I escaped,
all my property was confiscated. If I had not sought my bread
elsewhere, I would have starved to death, or gone to ruin. Maria
Theresa made me a captain in her army to her I gave my allegi-
ance. She alone is my sovereign. I owe no duty to the King of
Prussia he condemned me unheard by one act he deprived me of
bread, honor, country, and freedom. He had me thrown into prison,
and fettered like some fearful criminal. He has degraded me to an
animal that lies grovelling in his cage, and who only lives to eat,
who only eats to live. I do not speak to you, sir commandant, "
continued he " I speak, soldiers, to you, who were once my com-
rades in arms. I would not have you call Trenck a traitor. Look
at me ; see what the king has made of me ; and then tell me, was I
not justified in fleeing from these tortures? Even if Magdeburg had
been stormed, and thousands of lives lost, would you have called me
a traitor? Am I a traitor because I strive to conquer for myself
what you, what every man, receives from God as his holy right
420 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
my freedom?" While he spoke, his pale, wan countenance beamed
with inspiration.
The soldiers were struck and touched with it their low murmurs
of applause taught the commandant that he had committed a mis-
take in having so many witnesses to his conversation with the uni-
versally pitied and admired prisoner.
"You will not name your accomplices?" said he.
" No, " said Trenck, " I will not betray my friends. And what
good would it do you to know their names? You would punish
them, and would thereby sow dragons' teeth from which new friends
would rise for me. For undeserved misfortune, and unmerited
reproach, make for us friends in heaven and on earth. Look there,
sir commandant look there at your soldiers. They came here in-
different to me they leave as my friends; and if they can do no
more, they will pray for me. "
" Enough ! enough of this, " cried the commandant. " Be silent !
And you, " speaking to the soldiers, " get out of here ! Send the
blacksmith to solder these chains at once. Go into the second pas-
sage I want no one but the blacksmith. "
The soldiers withdrew, and the smith entered with his hot coals,
his glowing iron, and his panful of boiling lead. The commandant
leaned against the prison-door gazing at the smith ; Trenck was
looking eagerly at the ceiling of his cell watching the shadows
thrown there by the glowing coals.
" It is the ignus fatuus of my freedom, " said he, with a weary
smile. " It is the fourth time they have danced on this ceiling it
is the fourth time my chains have been forged. But I tell you,
commandant, I will break them again, and the shadows flickering
on these walls will be changed to a glorious sun of freedom it will
illuminate my path so that I can escape from this dungeon, in
which I will leave nothing but my curse for you my cruel keeper."
"You have not, then, despaired?" said the commandant, with a
cold smile. "You will still attempt to escape?"
Trenck fixed his keen, sparkling eyes upon Von Bruckhausen,
and stretching out his left arm to the smith, he said: "Listen, sir
commandant, to what I have to say to you, and may my words creep
like deadly poison through your veins ! Hear me ; as soon as you
have left my cell as soon as that door has closed behind you I will
commence a new plan of escape. You have thrown me in a cell
under the earth. The floor in my other cell was of wood I cut my
way through it. This is of stone I shall remove it. You come
daily and search my room to see if there is not some hole or some
instrument hidden by which I might effect my escape. Nevertheless
I shall escape. God created the mole, and of it I will learn how
"TRENCK, ARE YOU THERE?" 421
to burrow in the ground, and thus I will escape. You will see that
I have no instruments, no weapons, but God gave me what He gave
the mole He gave my fingers nails, and my mouth teeth ; and if
there is no other way, I will make my escape by them. "
" It is certainly very kind of you to inform me of all this, " cried
the commandant. "Be assured I shall not forget your words. I
shall accommodate myself to them. You seek to escape I seek to
detain you here. I am convinced I shall find some means of assur-
ing myself every quarter of an hour that your nails and teeth have
not freed you. The smith's work I see is done, and we dare enter-
tain the hope that for the present you will remain with us. Or per-
haps you mean to bite your chains in two as soon as I leave?"
" God gave Samson strength to crush with his arms the temple
columns," said Trenck, gazing at the blacksmith, who was now
leaving the room. " See, the ignis fatuus has disappeared from my
cell, the sun will soon shine. "
*" Trenck, be reasonable, " said Von Bruckhausen, in an entreating
tone. " Do not increase your misery do not force me to be more
cruel to you. Promise to make no more attempts to escape, and you
shall not be punished for your treacherous plot !"
Trenck laughed aloud. "You promise not to punish me. How
could you accomplish it? Has not your cruelty bound me in irons,
in chains, whose invention can only be attributed to the devil? Do
I not live in the deepest, most forlorn cell in the fortress? Is not
my nourishment bread and water? Do you not condemn me to pass
my days in idleness, my nights in fearful darkness? What more
could you do to me? how could you punish any new attempt to
escape? No, no, sir commandant ; as soon as that door has closed
on you, the mole will commence to burrow, and some day, in spite
of all your care, he will escape. "
"That is your last word!" cried Von Bruckhausen, infuriated.
"You will not promise to abandon these idle attempts at escape?
You will not name your accomplices?"
" No ! and again no !"
"Well, then, farewell. You shall remember this hour, and I
promise you, you shall regret it. "
Throwing a fearful look of malignant wrath at Trenck, who was
leaning against his pallet, laughing at his rage, the commandant
left the prison. The iron door closed slowly ; the firm, even tread
of the disappearing soldiers was audible, then all was quiet.
A death-like stillness reigned in the prisoner's cell ; no sound of
life disturbed the fearful quiet. Trenck shuddered ; a feeling of
inexpressible woe, of inconsolable despair came over him. He could
now yield to it, no one was present to hear his misery and wretch-
422 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
edness. He need not now suppress the sighs and groans that had
almost choked him ; he could give the tears, welling to his eyes like
burning fire, full vent ; he could cool his feverish brow upon the
stone floor, in the agony of his soul. As a man trembles at the
thought of death, Trenck trembled at the thought of life. He knew
not how long he had sighed, and wept, and groaned. For him there
was no time, no hour, no night it was all merged into one fearful
day. But still he experienced some hours of pleasure and joy.
These were the hours of sleep, the hours of dreams. Happier than
many a king, than many powerful rulers and rich nobles upon their
silken couches, was this prisoner upon his hard pallet. He could
sleep his spirit, busy during the day in forming plans for his
escape, needed and found the rest of sleep ; his body needed the
refreshment and received it.
Yes, he could sleep. Men were hard and cruel to him, but God
had not deserted him, for at night He sent an angel to his cell who
consoled and refreshed him. It was the angel of slumber When
night came, after all his sorrow, his agony, his despair endured
during the day, the consoling angel came and took his seat by the
wretched prisoner. This night he kissed his eyes, he laid his soft
wings on the prisoner's wounded heart, he whispered glorious
dreams of the future into his ear. A beautiful smile, seldom seen
when he was awake, now rested upon his lips.
Keep quiet, ye guards, without there keep quiet, the prisoner
sleeps ; the sleep of man is sacred, and more sacred than all else is
the sleep of the unfortunate. Do not disturb him pass the door
stealthily. Be still, be still ! the prisoner sleeps reverence his rest.
This stillness was now broken by a loud cry.
" Trenck, Trenck !" cried a thundering voice " Trenck, are you
asleep?"
He woke from his pleasant dreams and rose in terror from his
bed. He thought he had heard the trumpets of the judgment-day,
and listened eagerly for the renewing of the sound.
And again the cry resounded through his cell. " Trenck, are you
there?"
With a wild fear he raised his hand to his burning brow.
" Am I mad?" murmured he ; "I hear a voice in my brain calling
me ; a voice "
The bolts were pushed back, and Commandant Von Bruckhausen,
accompanied by a soldier, with a burning torch, appeared on the
threshold.
"Why did you not answer, Trenck?" said he. .
" Answer answer what ?"
"The sentinel's call. As you swore to me you would make new
THE KING AND THE GERMAN SCHOLAR. 423
attempts to escape, I was compelled to make arrangements to pre-
vent your succeeding. The guards at your door are commanded to
call you every quarter of an hour during the night. If you do not
answer at once, they will enter your cell to convince themselves of
your presence. Accommodate yourself to this, Trenck. "We shall
now see if you are able to free yourself with your nails and teeth !,"
He left the room, the door was closed. It was night once more
in the prisoner's cell but he did not sleep. He sat upon his pallet
and asked himself if what had passed was true, or if it was not
some wild and fearful dream.
" No, no, it cannot be true ; they could not rob me of my last and
only pleasure my sleep ! soft, balmy sleep !"
But listen. There is a voice again. " Trenck, Trenck, are you
there?"
He answered by a fearful yell, and sprang from his bed, trem-
bling with terror. It was no dream !
"It is true ! they will let me sleep no more. Cowardly thieves !
may God curse as I curse you. May He have no pity with you,
who have none with me ! Ah, you cruel men, you increase my
misery a thousandfold. You murder my Bleep. God's curse upon
you 1"
CHAPTER XI.
THE KING AND THE GERMAN SCHOLAR.
IT was the winter of 1760. Germany, unhappy Germany, bleed-
ing from a thousand wounds, was for a few months freed from the
scourge of war ; she could breathe again, and gather new strength
for new contests. Stern winter with its ice and snow had alone
given peace to the people for a short time. The rulers thought of
and willed nothing but war ; and the winter's rest was only a time
of preparation for new battles. The allies had never yet succeeded
in vanquishing the little King of Prussia. Notwithstanding the
disappointments and adversities crowded upon him though good
fortune and success seemed forever to have abandoned him Fred-
erick stood firm and undaunted, and his courage and his confidence
augmented with the dangers which surrounded him.
But his condition appeared so sad, so desperate, that even the
heroic Prince Henry despaired. The king had in some degree re-
paired the disasters of Kunersdorf and Mayen by his great victories
at Leignitz and Torgau ; but so mournful, so menacing was his
position on every side, that even the victories which had driven hia
424 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
enemies from Saxony, and at least assured him his winter quarters,
brought him no other advantages, and did not lessen the dangers
which threatened him. His enemies stood round about him they
burned'with rage and thirst to destroy utterly that king who was
always ready to tear from them their newly- won laurels. Only by
his complete destruction could they hope to quench the glowing en-
thusiasm which the people of all Europe expressed by shouts and
exultation.
The Russians had their winter quarters for the first time in
Pomerania. The Austrians lay in Silesia and Bohemia. The newly-
supplied French army, and the army of the States, were on the
Rhine. While the enemies of Frederick remained thus faithful to
each other in their war against him, he had just lost his only ally.
King George II. of England was dead, and the weak George III.
yielded wholly to the imperious will of his mother and to that of
Lord Bute. He broke off his league with Prussia, and refused to
pay the subsidy.
Thus Prussia stood alone without money, without soldiers,
without friends surrounded by powerful and eager enemies alone
and seemingly hopeless, with so many vindictive adversaries.
All this made Prince Henry not only unhappy, but dispirited
palsied his courage, and made him wish to leave the army and take
refuge in some vast solitude where he could mourn over the mis-
fortunes of his distracted country. Accordingly he wrote to the
king and asked for his discharge.
The king replied :
" It is not difficult, my brother, in bright and prosperous times,
to find men willing to serve the state. Those only are good citizens
who stand undaunted at the post of danger in times of great crises
and disaster. The true calling of a man consists in this : that he
should intrepidly carry out the most difficult and dangerous enter-
prises. The more difficulty, the more danger the more bright
honor and undying fame. I cannot, therefore, believe that you are
in earnest in asking for your discharge. It is unquestionable that
neither you nor I can feel certain of a happy issue to the circum-
stances which now surround us. But when we have done all which
lies in our power, our consciences and public opinion will do us
justice. We contend for our fatherland and for honor. We must
make the impossible possible, in order to succeed. The number of
our enemies does not terrify me. The greater their number, the
more glorious will be our fame when we have conquered them. " *
Prince Henry, ashamed of his despondency, gave to this letter of
his brother the answer of a hero. He marched against the Russians,
* Preuss. " J?ist-"T of. Frederick the Great, 11 vol. ii . , p. 246.
THE KING AND THE GERMAN SCHOLAR. 425
drove them from Silesia, and raised the siege of Breslau, around
which the Austrians under Loudon were encamped. Tauentzein,
with fearless energy and with but three thousand Prussians, had
fortified himself in Breslau against this powerful enemy. So in the
very beginning of the winter the capital of Silesia had been retaken,
By Torgau the king had fought and won his twelfth battle for the
possession of Silesia yes, fought and won from his powerful and
irreconcilable enemies. And all this had been in vain, and almost
without results. The prospect of peace seemed far distant, and the
hope of happiness for Frederick even as remote.
But now winter was upon them. This stern angel of peace had
sheathed the sword, and for the time ended the war.
While the pious Maria Theresa and her court ladies made it the
mode to prepare lint in their splendid saloons during the winter for
the wounded soldiers while the Russian General Soltikow took up
his winter quarters at Posen, and gave sumptuous feasts and ban-
quets Frederick withdrew to Leipsic, in which city philosophy and
learning were at that time most flourishing. The Leipsigers indeed
boasted that they had given an asylum to poetry and art.
The warrior-hero was now changed for a few happy months into
the philosopher, the poet, and the scholar. Frederick's brow, con-
tracted by anxiety and care, was now smooth ; his eye took again
its wonted fire a smile was on his lip, and the hand which had so
long brandished the sword, gladly resumed the pen. He who had
so. long uttered only words of command and calls to battle, now
bowed over his flute and drew from it the tenderest and most melt-
ing melodies. The evening concerts were resumed. The musical
friends and comrades of the king had been summoned from Berlin ;
and that nothing might be wanting to make his happiness complete,
he had called his best-beloved friend, the Marquis d' Argens, to his
side.
D' Argens had much to tell of the siege of Berlin by the Russians
of the firm defence of the burghers of their patriotism and their
courage. Frederick's eyes glistened with emotion, and in the ful-
ness of his thankful heart he promised to stand by his faithful Ber-
liners to the end. But when D'Argens told of the desolation which
the Russians had wrought amongst the treasures of art in Chariot
tenburg, the brow of the king grew dark, and with profound indig-
nation he said :
"Ah, the Russians are barbarians, who labor only for the down-
fall of humanity.* If we do not succeed in conquering them, and
destroying their rude, despotic sovereignty, they will again and
ever disquiet the whole of Europe. In the mean time, however, "
<The king's own words. Archenholtz, vol. i., p. 282.
28
426 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
said Frederick, "the vandalism of the Russians shall not destroy
our beautiful winter rest. If they have torn my paintings and
crushed my statues, we must collect new art-treasures. Gotzkowsky
has told me that in Italy, that inexhaustible mine of art, there are
still many glorious pictures of the great old masters ; he shall pro-
cure them for me, and I will make haste to finish this war in order
to enjoy my new paintings, and to rest in my beautiful Sans-Souci.
Ah, marquis, let us speak no longer of it, in this room at least, let
us forget the war. It has whitened my hair, and made an old man
of me before my time. My back is bent, and my face is wrinkled
as the flounce on a woman's dress. All this has the war brought
upon me. But my heart and my inclinations are unchanged, and I
think I dare now allow them a little satisfaction and indulgence.
Come, marquis, I have a new poem from Voltaire, sent to me a few
days since. We will see if he can find grace before your stern
tribunal. I have also some new sins to confess. That is to say, I
have some poems composed in the hours of rest during my campaigns.
You are my literary father confessor, and we will see if you can
give me absolution."
But the king did not dedicate the entire winter to music, and
French poems, and gay, cheerful conversation with his friends. A
part of this happy time was consecrated to the earnest study of the
ancients. For the first time he turned his attention to German
literature, and felt an interest in the efforts of German philosophers
and poets.
Quintus Icilius, the learned companion of Frederick, had often
assured him that the scholarship, the wit, the poetry of Germany,
found at this time their best representatives in Leipsic, that he at
length became curious to see these great men, of whom Quintus
Icilius asserted that they far surpassed the French in scholarship,
and in wit and intellect might take their places unchallenged side
by side with the French.
The king listened to this assurance with rather a contemptuous
smile. He directed Icilius, however, to present to him some of the
Leipsic scholars and authors.
" I will present to your majesty the most renowned scholar and
philologist of Leipsic, Professor Gottsched, and the celebrated
author, Gellert, " said Icilius, with great animation. " Which of
the two will your majesty receive first?"
''Bring me first the scholar and philologist," said the king,
laughing. " Perhaps the man has already discovered in this barbar-
ous Dutch tongue a few soft notes and turns, and if so, I am curious
to hear them. Go, then, and bring me Professor Gottsched. I have
often heard of him, and I know that Voltaire dedicated an ode to
THE KING AND THE GERMAN SCHOLAR. 42?
him. In the mean time I will read a little in my Lucretius and
prepare my soul for the interview with this great Dutchman. "
Icilius hastened off to summon the renowned professor to the
king.
Gottsched, to whom, at that time, all Germany rendered homage,
and who possessed all the pride and arrogance of a German scholar,
thought it most natural that the king should wish to know him, and
accepted the invitation with a gracious smile. In the complete,
heart-felt conviction of his own glory, in the rigid, pedantic Array
of a magnificent, long- tailed wig, the German professor appeared
before the king. His majesty received him in his short, simple,
unostentatious manner, and smiled significantly at the pompous
manner of the renowned man. They spoke at first of the progress
of German philosophy, and the king listened with grave attention
to the learned deductions of the professor, but he thought to himself
that Gottsched understood but little how to make his knowledge
palatable ; he was probably a learned, but most certainly a very
uninteresting man.
The conversation was carried on with more vivacity when they
spoke of poetry and history, and the king entered upon this theme
with warm interest.
"In the history of Germany, I believe there is still much con-
cealed, " said Frederick ; " I am convinced that many important
documents are yet hidden away in the cloisters. "
Gottsched looked up at him proudly. " Pardon, sire, " said he,
in his formal, pedantic way. "I believe those can be only unim-
portant documents. To my view, at least, there is no moment of
German history concealed all is clear, and I can give information
on every point !"
The king bowed his head with a mocking smile. "You are a
great scholar, sir ; I dare not boast of any preeminence. I only
know the history of the German States written by Pere Barre. "
" He has written a German history as well as a foreigner could
write it," said Gottsched. "For this purpose he made use of a
Latin work, written by Struve, in Jena. He translated this book
nothing more. Had Barre understood German, his history would
have been better ; he would have had surer sources of information at
his command. "
"But Barre was of Alsace, and understood German," said Fred-
erick, eagerly. "But you, who are a scholar, an author, and a
grammarian, tell me, if any thing can be made of the German
language?"
"Well, I think we have already made many beautiful things of
it," said Gottsched, in the full consciousness of his own fame.
428 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" But you have not been able to give it any melody, or any grace, "
said Frederick. " The German language is a succession of barbarous
sounds ; there is no music in it. Every tone is rough and harsh,
and its many discords make it useless for poetry or eloquence. Fo:r
instance, in German you call a rival ' Nebenbuhler, ' what a fatal,
disgusting sound ' Buhler ! ' " *
" Ah, your majesty, " said Gottsched, impatiently, " that is also
a sound in the French tongue. You should know this, for no one
understands better, more energetically than yourself, how to circum-
vent the 'boules !'"
Frederick laughed ; and this gay rejoinder of the learned pro-
fessor reconciled him somewhat to his puffed-up and haughty self-
conceit. " It is true, " said he, " this time you are right ; but you
must admit that, in general, the French language is softer and more
melodious !"
" I cannot admit it, " said Gottsched, fiercely. " I assert that
German is more musical. How harsh, how detestable sounds, for
instance, the French 'amour ; ' how soft and tender yes, I may say,
how characteristic sounds the word ' Hebe ! ' '
"Aha !" said the king, "you are certainly most happily married,
or you would not be so enthusiastic about German 'liebe, ' which I
admit is a very different thing from French ' amour. ' I am, how
ever, convinced that the French language has many advantages
over the German. For instance, in the French one word may often
suffice to convey many different meanings, while for this purpose
several German words must be combined. "
" That is true. There your majesty is right, " said Gottsched,
thoughtfully. " The French language has this advantage. But this
shall be no longer so we will change it ! Yes, yes we will reform
it altogether !"
Frederick looked astonished and highly diverted. This assump-
tion of the learned scholar, " to change all that, " impressed him
through its immensity. f "Bring that about sir," said the king,
gayly. "Wave your field-marshal's staff and give to the German
language that which it has never possessed, grace, significance, and
facility ; then breathe upon it the capability to express soft passion
and tender feeling, and you will do for the language what Julius
Caesar did for the people. You will be a conqueror, and will culti-
vate and polish barbarians !"
Gottsched did not perceive the mockery which lay in these words
of the king, but received them smilingly as agreeable flattery.
* The king's own words. Archenholtz, vol. ii., p. 272.
t Many years afterward the king repeated this declaration of Gottsched to the
Duchess of Gotha, " We will change all that," and was highly amused.
THE KING AND THE GERMAN SCHOLAR. 429
"The German language is well fitted to express tender emotions.
I pledge myself to translate any French poem faithfully, and at the
same time melodiously, " said he.
"I will put you to the proof, at once," said the king, opening
a book which lay upon the table. "Look! These are the Odes of
Rousseau, and we will take the first one which accident presents.
Listen to this :
" ' Sous un plus heureux auspice,
La Deesse des amours,
Veut qu'un nouveau sacrifice,
Lui consacre vos beaux jours;
Dejft le bucher s'allume.
L'autel brille, Tencens fume,
La victime s'embellit,
L'amour mme la consume,
Le mystere s'accomplit.'*
" Do you believe it is possible to translate this beauiful stanza
into German?" said the king.
" If your majesty allows me, I will translate it at once, " said he.
" Give me a piece of paper and a pencil. "
" Take them, " said Frederick. " We will divert ourselves by a
little rivalry in song, while you translate the verses of the French
poet into German. I will sing to the praise of the German author
in French rhyme. Let us not disturb each other. "
Frederick stepped to the window and wrote off hastily a few
verses, then waited till he saw that Gottsched had also ceased to
write. " I am ready, sir, " said the king.
" And I also, " said the scholar, solemnly. " Listen, your majesty,
and be pleased to take the book and compare as I read ;" then with
a loud nasal voice he read his translation :
" ' Mit ungleich gliicklicherm Geschicke,
Gebeut die Konigin zarter Pein,
Hin, Deine schonen Augenblicke,
/.ii 1 1 1 Opfer noch einmal zu weilm,
Den Holzstoss liebt man auf zugeben,
Der Altar glanzt, des Weihrauchs Dttfte
Durchdringen schon die weiten Ltif te,
Das Opfer wird gedoppelt schOn,
Durch Amors Glut 1st es verflogen,
Und das Geheimniss wii d vollzogen.'
"Now, your majesty," said Gottsched, "do you not find that the
German language is capable of repeating the French verses promptly
and concisely?"
" I am astonished that you have been able to translate this beauti-
* See note, page 572.
430 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ful poem. I am sorry I am too old to learn German. I regret that
in my youth I had neither the courage nor the instruction necessary.
I would certainly have turned many of my leisure hours to the
translation of German authors, rather than to Roman and French
writers ; but the past cannot be recalled, and I must be content ! If
I can never hope to become a German writer, it will at least be
granted me to sing the praises of the regenerator of the German lan-
guage in French verse. I have sought to do so now listen !"
The king read aloud a few verses to the enraptured professor.
The immoderate praise enchanted him, and, in the assurance of his
pride and conceit, he did not remark the fine irony concealed in
them. With a raised voice, and a graceful, bantering smile, the
king concluded :
" C'est & toi Cygne des Saxons,
D'arracher ce secret & la nature avare ;
D'adoucir dans tes chants d'une langue barbare,
Les dors et detestables sons ! " *
" Ah ! your majesty, " cried Gottsched, forgetting his indignation
over the langue barbare, in his rapture at the praise he had received,
" you are kind and cruel at the same moment. You cast reproach
upon our poor language, and, at the same time, give me right royal
praise. Cygne des Saxons that is an epithet which does honor to
the royal giver, and to the happy receiver. For a king and a hero,
there can be no higher fame than to appreciate and reverence men
of letters. The sons of Apollo and the Muses, the scholars, the
artists and authors, have no more exalted object than to attain the
acknowledgment and consideration of the king and the hero. Sire,
I make you a most profound and grateful reverence. You have
composed a masterly little poem, and when the Cygne des Saxons
shall sing his swanlike song, it will be in honor of the great Fred-
erick, the Caesar of his time. "
" Now, my dear Quintus, " said the king, after Gottsched had with-
drawn, "are you content with your great scholar?"
" Sire, " said he, " I must sorrowfully confess that the great Gott-
sched has covered his head with a little too much of the dust of
learning ; he is too much of the pedant. "
"He is a puffed-up, conceited fool," said the king, impatiently ;
"and you can never convince me that he is a great genius. Great
men are modest ; they have an exalted aim ever before them, and
are never satisfied with themselves ; but men like this Gottsched
place themselves upon an altar, and fall down and worship. This
is their only reward, and they will never do any thing truly great. "
" But Gottsched has really great and imperishable merit, " said
* CEuvres Posthumes, vol. vii., p. 216. Se note, p. 572.
THE KING AND THE GERMAN SCHOLAR. 431
Quintus, eagerly. " He has done much for the language, much for
culture, and for science. All Germany honors him, and, if the in-
cense offered him has turned his head, we must forgive him, be-
cause of the great service he has rendered. "
" I can never believe that he is a great man, or a poet, fie had
the audacity to speak of the golden era of literature which bloomed
in the time of my grandfather, Frederick I., in Germany, and he
was so foolhardy as to mention some German scribblers of that time,
whose barbarous names no one knows, as the equals of Racine, and
Corneille, and even of Virgil. Repeat to me, once more, the names
of those departed geniuses, that I may know the rivals of the great
writers of the day !"
" He spoke of Bessen and Neukirch, " said Quintus ; " I must con-
fess it savors of audacity to compare these men with Racine and
Corneille ; he did this, perhaps, to excite the interest of your majesty,
as it is well known that the great Frederick, to whom all Germany
renders homage, attributes all that is good and honorable to the
German, but has a poor opinion of his intellect, his learning, and
his wit. "
The king was about to reply, when a servant entered and gave
him a letter from the professor, Gottsched.
"I find, Quintus," said the king, "that my brother in Apollo
does me the honor to treat me with confidence. If I was at all dis-
posed to be arrogant, I might finally imagine myself to be his equal.
Let us see with what sort of dedication the Cygne des Saxons has
honored us. " He opened the letter, and while reading, his counte-
nance cleared, and he burst out into a loud, joyous laugh. " Well,
you must read this poem, and tell me if it is pure German and true
poetry." The king, assuming the attitude of a great tragedian,
stepped forward with a nasal voice, and exactly in the pompous
manner of Gottsched, he read the poem aloud. " Be pleased to re-
mark," said the king, with assumed solemnity, "that Gottsched
announces himself as the Pindar of Germany, and he will have the
goodness to commend me in his rhymes to after-centuries. And
now, tell me, Quintus, if this is German poetry? Is your innermost
soul inspired by these exalted lines?"
" Sire, " said Quintus Icilius, " I abandon my renowned scholar,
and freely confess that your majesty judged him correctly ; he is an
insufferable fool and simpleton. "
"Not so; but he is a German scholar, " said the king, patheti-
cally ; " one of the great pillars which support the weight of the
great temple of German science and poetry. "
" Sire, I offer up my German scholar ; I lay him upon the altar of
your just irony. You may tear him to pieces ; he is yours. But I
432 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
pray you, therefore, to be gracious, sire, and promise me to receive
my poet kindly. "
" I promise, " said the king : " I wish also to become acquainted
with this model.
" Promise me, however, one thing. If the German poet resembles
the German scholar, you will make me no reproaches if I turn away
from all such commodities in future?"
CHAPTER XII.
GELLERT.
GELLERT was just returning from the university, where, in the
large hall, he had recommenced his lectures on morality. A large
audience had assembled, who had given the most undivided atten-
tion to their beloved master. As he left the rostrum the assembly,
entirely contrary to their usual custom, burst forth in loud applause,
and all pressed forward to welcome the beloved teacher on his return
to his academic duties after his severe illness.
These proofs of love had touched the sensitive German poet so
deeply in his present nervous and suffering condition, that he
reached his lodging deathly pale and with trembling knees ; utterly
exhausted, he threw himself into his arm-chair, the only article of
luxury in his simple study.
The old man, who sat near the window in this study, was busily
engaged in reading, and paid him no attention ; although Gellert
coughed several times, he did not appear to remark his presence, and
continued to read.
" Conrad, " said Gellert, at length, in a friendly, pleading tone.
" Professor, " answered the old man, as he looked up unwillingly
from his book.
" Conrad, it seems to me that you might stand up when I enter ;
not, perhaps, so much out of respect for your master, as because he
is delicate and weak, and needs your assistance. "
" Professor, " said the old man, with composure, " I only intended
finishing the chapter which I have just commenced, and then I
should have risen. You came a little too soon. It was your own
fault if I was compelled to read after you came. "
Gellert smiled. " What book were you reading so earnestly, my
old friend?"
" The ' Swedish Countess, ' professor. You know it is my favorite
book. I am reading it now for the twelfth time, and I still think
GELLERT. 433
it the most beautiful and touching, as well as the most sensible book
I ever read. It is entirely beyond my comprehension, professor,
how you made it, and how you could have recollected all these
charming histories. Who related all that to you?"
" No one related it to me, it came from my own head and heart, "
said Gellert, pleasantly. "But no, that is a very presumptuous
thought ; it did not come from myself, but from the great spirit,
who occasionally sends a ray of his Godlike genius to quicken the
hearts and imaginations of poets. "
" I do not understand you, professor, " said Conrad, impatiently.
" Why do you not talk like the book I understand all that the
'Swedish Countess' says, for she speaks like other people. She is
an altogether sensible and lovely woman, and I have thought some-
times, professor "
Old Conrad hesitated and looked embarrassed.
"Well, Conrad, what have you thought?"
" I have thought sometimes, sir, perhaps it would be best for you
to marry the 'Swedish Countess. "'
Gellert started slightly, and a light flush mounted to his brow.
" I marry !" he exclaimed ; " Heaven protect me from fastening
such a yoke upon myself, or putting my happiness in the power of
any creature so fickle, vain, capricious, haughty, obstinate, and
heartless as a woman. Conrad, where did you get this wild idea?
you know that I hate women ; no, not hate, but fear them, as the
lamb fears the wolf. "
"Oh, sir," cried Conrad, angrily, "was your mother not a
woman?"
" Yes, " said Gellert, softly, after a pause " yes, she was a woman,
a whole-hearted, noble woman. She was the golden star of my
childhood, the saintly ideal of the youth, as she is now in heaven
the guardian angel of the man ; there is no woman like her, Conrad.
She was the impersonation of love, of self-sacrifice, of goodness,
and of devotion. "
"You are right," said Conrad, softly, "she was a true woman;
the entire village loved and honored her for her benevolence and
piety ; when she died, it seemed as though we had all lost a
mother. "
" When she died, " said Gellert, his voice trembling with emotion,
"my happiness and youth died with her ; and when the first hand-
ful of earth fell upon her coffin I felt as if my heart-strings broke,
and that feeling has never left me. "
" You loved your mother too deeply, professor, " said Conrad ;
" that is the reason you are determined not to love and marry some
other woman. "
434 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Why, man, do not talk to me again of marrying, " cried Gellert
"What has that fatal word to do in my study?"
" A great deal, sir ; only look how miserable every thing is here ;
not even neat and comfortable, as it should certainly be in the room
of so learned and celebrated a professor. Only think of the change
that would be made by a bright young wife. You must marry, pro-
fessor, and the lady must be rich. This state of things cannot con-
tinue ; you must take a wife, for you cannot live on your celebrity. "
" No, Conrad, but on my salary, " said Gellert. " I receive two
hundred and fifty thalers from my professorship ; only think, two
hundred and fifty thalers ! That is a great deal for a German poet,
Conrad ; I should consider myself most fortunate. It is sufficient
for my necessities, and will certainly keep me from want. "
" It would be sufficient, professor, if we were not so extravagant
I am an old man, and you may very well listen to a word from me.
I served your father for fifteen years in fact, you inherited me
from him. I have the right to speak. If it goes so far, I will hun-
ger and thirst with you, but it makes me angry that we should
hunger and thirst when there is no necessity. Have you dined to-
day?"
" No, Conrad, " said Gellert, looking embarrassed. " I had, acci-
dentally, no money with me as I came out of the academy, and you
know that I do not like to go to the eating-house without paying
immediately. "
" Accidentally you had no money? You had probably left it at
home. "
" Yes, Conrad, I had left it at home. "
" No, sir ; you gave your last thaler to the student who came this
morning and told you of his necessities, and complained so bitterly
that he had eaten nothing warm for three days. You gave your
money to him, and that was not right, for now we have nothing
ourselves. "
" Yes, Conard, it was right, it was my duty ; he hungered and I
was full ; he was poor and in want, and I had money, and sat in
my warm, comfortable room ; it was quite right for me to help
him."
"Yes, you say so always, sir, and our money all goes to the
devil," muttered Conrad. "With what shall we satisfy ourselves
to-day?"
" Well, " said Gellert, after a pause, " we will drink some coffee,
and eat some bread and butter. Coffee is an excellent beverage, and
peculiarly acceptable to poets, for it enlivens the fancy."
"And leaves the stomach empty," said Conrad.
" We have bread and butter to satisfy that. Ah, Conrad, I assure
GELLERT. 435
you we would often have been very happy in my father's parsonage
if we had had coffee and bread and butter for our dinner. We were
thirteen children, besides my father and mother, and my father's
salary was not more than two hundred thalers. Conrad, he had less
than I, and he had to provide for thirteen children. "
" As if you had not provided for yourself since you were eleven
years old as if I had not seen you copying late into the night to
earn money, at an age when other children scarcely know what
money is, and know still less of work."
" But when I carried the money which I had earned to my mother,
she kissed me so tenderly, and called me her brave, noble son that
was a greater reward than all the money in the world. And when
the next Christmas came, and we were all thirteen so happy, and
each one received a plate filled with nuts and apples and little pres-
ents, I received a shining new coat. It was the first time I had ever
had a coat of new cloth. My mother had bought the material with
the money I had earned. She had kept it all, and now my writings
had changed into a beautiful coat, which I wore with pride and
delight. No coat is so comfortable as one we have earned ourselves.
The self -earned coat is the royal mantle of the poor."
" But we need not be poor, " scolded Conrad. " It is that which
makes me angry. If we were careful, we could live comfortably and
free from care on two hundred and fifty thalers. But every thing is
given away, and every thing is done for others, until we have noth-
ing left for ourselves. "
" We have never gone hungry to bed, Conrad, and we need not
hunger. To-day we have coffee, and bread and butter, and to-
morrow I will receive something from my publishers from the
fourth edition of aiy fables. It is not much, it will be about twenty
thalers, but we will be able to live a long time on that. Be content,
Conrad, and go now into the kitchen and prepare the coffee ; I am
really rather hungry. Well, Conrad, you still appear discontented.
Have you another grievance in reserve?"
"Yes, professor, I have another. The beadle tells me that the
university have offered you a still higher position than the one you
now hold. Is it true?"
" Yes, Conrad, it is true. They wished me to become a regular
professor. "
"And you declined?"
" I declined. I would have been obliged to be present at all the con-
ferences. I would have had more trouble, and if I had had the mis-
fortune to become rector I would have been lost indeed, for the
rector represents the university ; and if any royal personages should
arrive it is he who must receive them and welcome them in the
436 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
name of the university. No, no ; protect me from such honors. 1
do not desire intercourse with great men. I prefer my present posi-
tion and small salary, and the liberty of sitting quietly in my
own study, to a regular professorship and a higher salary, and being
forced to dance attendance in the antechambers of great people.
Then, in addition to that, I am delicate, and that alone would pre-
vent me from attending as many lectures as the government requires
from a regular high-salaried professor. You must never receive
money for work that you have not done and cannot do. Now, Con-
rad, those are my reasons for declining this situation for the second
time. I think you will be contented now, and prepare me an excel-
lent cup of coffee. "
" It is a shame, nevertheless, " said Conrad, " that they should say
you are not a regular professor. But that is because you have no
wife. If the Swedish countess were here, every thing would be
changed ; your study would be nicely arranged, and you would be
so neatly dressed, that no one would dare to say you were not a reg-
ular professor. "
" But that is no offence, Conrad, " cried Gellert, laughing. " In
the sense in which you understand it, I am more now than if I had
accepted this other position, for I am now called an extraordinary
professor. "
" Well, I am glad that they know that you are an extraordinary
professor," said Conrad, somewhat appeased. "Now I will go to
the kitchen and make the coffee. That reminds me that I have a
letter for you which was left by a servant. "
He took a letter from the table, and handed it to his master.
While he was breaking the seal, Conrad approached the door slowly
and hesitatingly, evidently curious to hear the contents of the letter.
He had not reached the door, when Gellert recalled him.
"Conrad," said Gellert, with a trembling voice, " hear what this
letter contains. "
" Well, I am really curious, " said Conrad, smiling.
Gellert took the letter and commenced reading :
"My dear and honored professor, will you allow one of your "
Here he hesitated, and his face flushed deeply. "No," he said,
softly ; " I cannot read that ; it is too great, too undeserved praise
of myself. Read it yourself. "
" Nonsense !" said Conrad, taking the letter ; " the professor is as
bashful as a young girl. To read one's praise, is no shame. Now
listen : 'My dear and honored professor, will you allow one of your
pupils to seek a favor from you? I am rich ! God has enriched you
with the rarest gifts of mind and heart, but He has not bestowed
outward wealth upon you. Your salary is not large, but your heart
GELLERT. 437
is so great and noble, that you give the little you possess to the poor
and suffering, and care for others while you yourself need care.
Allow me, my much-loved master, something of that same happi-
ness which you enjoy. Grant me the pleasure of offering you (who
divide your bread with the poor, and your last thaler with the suf-
fering) a small addition to your salary, and begging you to use it
so long as God leaves you upon earth, to be the delight of your
scholars, and the pride of Germany. The banker Farenthal has
orders to pay to you quarterly the sum of two hundred thalers ; you
will to-morrow receive the first instalment.
"'YOUR GRATEFUL AND ADMIRING PUPIL.'
" Hurrah ! hurrah !" cried Conrad, waving the paper aloft. " Now
we are rich, we can live comfortably, without care. Oh, I will
take care of you, and you must drink a glass of wine every day, in
order to become strong, and I will bring your dinner from the best
eating-house, that you may enjoy your meal in peace and quiet in
your own room. "
"Gently, gently, Conrad!" said Gellert, smiling. "In your de-
light over the money, you forget the noble giver. Who can it be?
Who among my pupils is so rich and so delicate, as to bestow so
generously, and in such a manner?"
" It is some one who does not wish us to know his name, pro-
fessor, " cried Conrad, gayly ; " and we will not break our hearts
over it. But now, sir, we will not content ourselves with bread
and coffee ; we are rich, and we need not live so poorly ! I will go
to the eating-house and bring you a nice broiled capon, and some
preserved fruit, and a glass of wine."
" It is true, " said Gellert, well pleased ; " a capon would strengthen
me, and a glass of wine ; but no, Conrad, we will have the coffee ;
we have no money to pay for such a meal. "
" Well, we can borrow it ! To-morrow you will receive the first
quarterly payment of your pension, and then I will pay for your
dinner. "
"No, Conrad, no!" said Gellert, firmly. "You should never eat
what you cannot pay for immediately. Go to the kitchen and make
the coffee." Conrad was on the point of going discontentedly to
obey the command of his master, when a loud and hasty ring was
heard at the outer door of the professor's modest lodging.
"Perhaps the banker has sent the money to-day," cried Conrad,
as he hurried off, whilst Gellert again took the letter and examined
the handwriting.
But Conrad returned, looking very important.
"The Prussian major, Quintus Icilius, wishes to speak to the
professor, in the name of the king, " he said, solemnly.
438 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"In the name of the king !" cried Gellert ; "what does the great
warrior hero want with poor Gellert?"
" That I will tell you, " replied a voice from the door ; and as
Gellert turned, he saw before him the tall figure of a Prussian offi-
cer. "Pardon me for having bntered without your permission.
Your servant left the door open, and I thought "
" You thought, I hope, that Gellert would be happy to receive an
officer from the king, especially one who bears so celebrated a
name, " said Gellert, courteously, as he signed to Conrad to leave the
room a sign that Conrad obeyed most unwillingly, and with the
firm determination to listen outside the door.
" In the first place, allow me to say how happy I am to make the
acquaintance of so learned and celebrated a man as Professor Gel-
lert, " said Quintus, bowing deeply ; " then I must announce the
cause of my appearance. His majesty the King of Prussia w r ishes
to know you, and he has sent me to conduct you to him at once. "
"At once?" cried Gellert. "But, sir, you must see that I am
weak and ill. The king will not care to see a sick man who cannot
talk."
Quintus glanced sympathizingly at the poor professor, and said :
" It is true, you do not look well, and I cannot force you to go
with me to-day ; but allow me to make one remark : if you think to
escape the interview altogether, you are mistaken. The king de-
sires to speak with you, and it is my duty to bring you to him. If
you cannot go to-day, I must return to-morrow ; if you are then still
unwell, the day after ; and so on every day, until you accompany
me."
" But this is frightful !" cried Gellert, anxiously.
Quintus shrugged his shoulders. "You must decide, sir," he
said ; " I give you an hour. At four o'clock I will return and ask if
you will go to-day, or another time."
" Yes ; do that, major, " said Gellert, breathing more freely. " In
the mean time, I will take my dinner, and then see how it is with
my courage. Conrad ! Conrad !" exclaimed Gellert, as Quintus
Icilius left him, and his servant entered the room. " Conrad, did
you hear the bad tidings? I must go to the King of Prussia. "
"I heard," said Conrad, "and I do not think it bad tidings, but a
great honor. The king sent for Professor Gottsched a few daj r s
since, and conversed with him a long time. Since then, his entire
household act as if Gottsched were the Almighty Himself, and as if
they were all, at least, archangels. Therefore, I am glad that the
king has shown you the same honor, and that he desires to know
you. "
" Honor !" murmured Gellert. " This great lord wishes to see the
THE POET AND THE KING. 439
learned Germans for once, as others visit a menagerie, and look at
che monkeys, and amuse themselves with their wonderful tricks.
It is the merest curiosity which leads such men to desire to behold
ehe tricks and pranks of a professor. They know nothing of our
minds ; it satisfies them to look at us. Conrad, I will not go ; I
will be ill to-day and every other day. We will see if this modern
Icilius will not yield !"
And the usually gentle and yielding poet paced the room in angry
excitement, his eyes flashing, and his face deeply flushed.
" I will not I will not go. "
" You must go, professor, " said Conrad, placing himself imme-
diately in front of his master, and looking at him half -imploringly,
half -threateningly "you must go; you will give your old Conrad
the pleasure of being able to say to the impudent servants of Herr
Gottsched that my master has also been to the King of Prussia.
You will not do me the injury of making me serve a master who
lias not been to see the king, while Herr Gottsched has been?"
"But, Conrad," said Gellert, complainingly, "what good will it
have done me to have declined the position of regular professor,
that I might be in no danger of becoming rector, and being obliged
to see kings and princes?"
" It will show the world, " said Conrad, " that a poet need not be
a regular professor in order to be called into the society of kings
and princes. You must go the king expects you ; and if you do
not go, you will appear as the Austrians do, afraid of the King of
Prussia."
" That is true, " said Gellert, whose excitement had somewhat
subsided ; " it will look as though I were afraid. "
" And so distinguished a man should fear nothing, " said Conrad,
" not even a king. "
" Well, so be it, " said Gellert, smiling, " I will go to the king
to-day, but I must first eat something ; if I went fasting to the king
t might faint, and that would disgrace you forever, Conrad."
" I will run and bring the coffee, " said the delighted old servant.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE POET A.ND THE KING.
GELLERT had scarcely finished his frugal meal, and arranged his
toilet a little, when Major Quiutus arrived and asked the poet if he
were still too unwell to accompany him to the king.
"1 am still indisposed," said Gellert, with a sad smile, "but my
440 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
indisposition is of a kind that leaves me neither to-day, to-morrow
nor any day ; it is therefore better for me to gratify the king's com-
mands at once. I am ready to accompany you, sir ; let us de-
part. "
He took his three-cornered hat, which Conrad handed him with
a delightful smirk, and followed the major to the splendid house
where the king had taken his quarters for the winter.
" Allow me a favor, sir, " said Quintus, as they mounted the steps ;
" the king is prejudiced against German poets and philosophers, and
it would be of the greatest advantage to the literary and political
world of Germany for these prejudices to disappear, and for the
great Frederick to give to Germany the sympathy and encourage-
ment which until now he has lavished upon the French and Italians.
Think of this, sir, and endeavor to win the king by your obliging
and pleasing manner. "
" Oh, major !" sighed Gellert, " I do not understand the art of
pleasing the great ones of this world. I cannot utter words of
praise and flattery ; my heart and manners are simple and not
showy. "
"Exactly, this is beautiful and attractive," said the major, smil-
ing : " the king cannot endure pretension or conceited wisdom. Be
simply yourself ; imagine that you are in your own study, convers-
ing frankly and freely with a highly -honored friend, to whom
politeness and attention are due. "
The king, with his flute in hand, was walking up and down the
room, when the door opened, and Major Quintus entered with
Gellert.
Frederick immediately laid his flute aside, and advanced to
meet the poet with a gracious smile. Gellert's gentle and intellec-
tual countenance was composed, and his eyes were not cast down or
confused by the piercing glance of the king.
" Is this Professor Gellert?" said the king, with a slight saluta-
tion.
" Yes, your majesty, " said Gellert, bowing profoundly.
" The English ambassador has spoken well of you, " said the king;
" he has read many of your works. "
" That proves him to be a thoughtful and benevolent gentleman,
who hopes something from German writers," said Gellert, signifi-
cantly.
Frederick smiled, and perhaps to excite him still more, said
quickly :
" Tell me, how does it happen, Gellert, that we have so few cele-
brated writers?"
"Your majesty sees before you now a German poet whom even
THE POET AND THE KING. 441
the French have translated, and who call him the German La
Fontaine. "
" That is great praise, great praise, " said the king, whose large
eyes fastened themselves more attentively upon Gellert's modest,
expressive face. "You are then called the German La Fontaine?
Have you ever read La Fontaine?"
"Yes, sire, but I did not imitate him," said Gellert, ingenuously,
* I am an original. "
The king nodded gayly ; Gellert's quick frankness pleased him.
" Good, " he said, " you are an excellent poet ; but why do you
stand alone?"
Gellert shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"Your majesty is prejudiced against the Germans."
"No, I cannot admit that," said the king, quickly.
" At least against German writers, " replied Gellert.
" Yes, that is true ; I cannot deny that. Why have we no good
writers in Germany?"
"We have them, sire," said Gellert, with noble pride. "We
boast a Maskow, a Kramer who has set Bossuet aside. "
"How!" cried the king, astonished; "Bossuet? Ah, sir, how is
it possible for a German to set Bossuet aside?"
"Kramer has done so, and with great success," said Gellert,
smiling. "One of your majesty's most learned professors has said
that Kramer has the eloquence of Bossuet, and more profound his-
torical accuracy. "
The king appeared really astonished, and walked several times
thoughtfully up and down his room.
"Was my learned professor capable of deciding that question?"
" The world believes so, sire. "
"Why does no one translate Tacitus?"
" Tacitus is difficult, " said Gellert, smiling ; " there are some bad
French translations of this author. "
"You are right," said the king.
" Altogether, " continued Gellert, " there are a variety of reasons
why the Germans have not become distinguished in letters. When
art and science bloomed in Greece, the Romans were becoming re-
nowned in war. Perhaps the Germans have sought their fame on
the battle-field ; perhaps they had no Augustus or Louis XIV. who
favored and encouraged the historians and poets of Germany."
This was a daring and broad allusion, but Frederick received it
smilingly.
" You have had an Augustus, perhaps two, in Saxony, " he said.
"And we have made a good commencement in Saxony. We
should have an Augustus for all of Germany. "
29
442 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"What !" cried the king, quickly, and with sparkling eyes, "you
desire an Augustus for Germany?"
"Not exactly," said Gellert, "but I wish that every German sov-
ereign would encourage genius and letters in his country. Genius
needs encouragement ; and when it does not find it in its own land,
and from its native princes, it cannot retain the great and joyous
power of creation. "
The king did not answer, but walked thoughtfully up and down ;
from time to time he glanced quickly and searchingly at Gellert,
who was standing opposite to him.
"Have you ever been out of Saxony?" said the king, at last.
"Yes, sire, I was once in Berlin."
"You should go again," said the king then added, as if he re-
gretted having shown the German poet so much sympathy, " at all
events, you should travel. "
" To do so, your majesty, I require health and money. "
"Are you sick?" asked the king, in a gentle, sympathizing voice.
"What is your malady? Perhaps too much learning. "
Gellert smiled. " As your majesty thinks so, it may bear that
interpretation. In my mouth it would have sounded too bold. "
" I have had this malady myself, " said the king, laughing ; " I
will cure you. You must take exercise ride out every day. "
" Ah, sire, this cure might easily produce a new disease Jx>r me, "
said Gellert, terrified ; " if the horse should be healthier than I, I
could not ride it, and if it were as weak as myself, we would not be
able to stir from the spot. "
" Then you must drive, " said the king, laughing.
" I have not the money, sire. "
" That is true, " said the king. " All German writers need money,
and we have fallen upon evil times. "
"Yes, truly, sire, evil times ; but it lies in your majesty's hands
to change all this, if you would give peace to Germany. "
"How can I?" cried the king, violently. "Have you not heard
that there are three against me?"
"I care more for ancient than modern history," said Gellert, who
did not desire to follow the king upon the slippery field of politics.
"You, then, are accurately acquainted with the ancients?" said
th.e king. "Which, then, do you think the greatest and most re-
nowned of that epoch Homer or Virgil?"
" Homer, I think, merits the preference, because he is original. "
" But Virgil is more polished and refined. "
Gellert shook his head violently. Now that the old writers were
being discussed, the German sage overcame his timidity.
"We are entirely too widely separated from Virgil to be able to
THE POET AND THE KING. 443
judge of his language and style. I trust to Quintilian, who gives
Homer the preference. "
" But we must not be slaves to the judgment of the ancients, "
said the king, aroused.
" I am not, sire ; I only adopt their views when distance prevents
my judging for myself. "
" You are certainly right in this, "said the king, kindly. "Al-
together you appear to be a wise and reasonable man. I understand
that you have greatly improved the German language. "
"Ah, yes, sire, but unfortunately it has been in vain."
"Why is this?" said the king. "You all wish me to interest
myself in German, but it is such a barbarous language, that I often
have quires of writing sent me, of which I do not understand a
word. Why is it not otherwise?"
" If your majesty cannot reform this, I certainly cannot, n said
Gellert, smiling ; " I can only advise, but you can command "
" But your poems are not written in this stiff, pompous G<mnan.
Do you not know one of your fables by heart ?"
" I doubt it, sire, my memory is very treacherous. "
"Well, try and think of one. In the mean while I will walk
backward and forward a little. Well, have you thought of otve?"
" Yes, your majesty, " said Gellert, after a brief silence " I be-
lieve I remember one. "
"Let us hear it, " said the king; and, seating himself upon the
fauteuil, he gazed fixedly at Gellert, who, standing in the middle of
the room, his clear glance turned toward the king, now began hie
recitation.
"THE PAINTER.
" A painter, Athens his abode,
Who painted less for love of gain
Than crowns of laurel to obtain,
Mare 1 portrait to a connoisseur once showed,
And his opinion of it sought.
The judge spoke freely what he thought,
'Twas wholly not unto his taste, he said,
And that, to please a practised eye,
Far less of art should be displayed.
The painter failed not to reply,
And though the critic blamed with skill,
Was of the same opinion still.
" Then in the room a coxcomb came,
To scan the work with praise or blame,
He with a glance its worth descried ;
* Ye gods 1 A masterpiece ! ' he cried.
1 Ah, what a foot ! what skilled details,
E'en to the painting of the nails !
444 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
A living Mars is here revealed,
What skill what art in light and shade
Both in the helmet and the shield,
And in the armor are displayed 1 '
" The painter blushed with humbled pride,
Looked at the judge with wof ul mien,
'Too well am I convinced,' he cried,
' Unjust to me thou hast not been. 1
The coxcomb scarce had disappeared,
When he his god of battle smeared."
" And the moral, " cried the king, with vivacity, as Gellert ceased
for a moment.
"Here is the moral, sire :
"If what you write offends the critic's rules,
It is an evil sign, no doubt ;
But when 'tis lauded to the skies by fools,
'Tis time, indeed, to blot it out."
" That is beautiful very beautiful ; you have something gallant
in your person. I understand every thing you say. I received a
translation of 'Iphigenia' by Gottsched, and Quintus read it to me.
I had the French with me, and I did not understand a word. He
also brought me a poem by Pietsh, but I threw it aside. "
"I threw it aside, also," said Gellert, smiling.
The king smiled pleasantly. " Should I remain here, you must
come often and bring your fables to read to me. "
Gellert' s brow clouded slightly. "I do not know whether I am a
good reader, " he said, in some embarrassment. "' I have such a
sing-song, monotonous voice. "
"Yes, like the Silesians, " said the king, "but it sounds pleas-
antly. You must read your fables yourself. No one else can give
the proper emphasis. You must visit me soon again."
"Do not forget the king's request," said Quintus Icilius, as he
escorted Gellert to the door. "Visit him soon, and be assured you
shall never come in vain. I will take care that the king receives
you always. "
Gellert looked up smilingly at the major. " My dear sir, in many
respects I am quite an old-fashioned man ; for example, I have read
a great deal in the Old Scriptures for instruction. I have read, 'Put
not your trust in princes. ' These words seem wise to me, and you
must allow me to interpret them literally, and act accordingly."
Gellert withdrew, and hastened home. The major returned to
the king, admiring, almost envying, Gellert's modest, independent,
and beautiful character.
"Quintus," said the king, "I thank you sincerely for my new
THE KING AND THE VILLAGE MAGISTRATE. 445
German acquaintance. The poet is better than the philosopher.
Gellert is the wisest and cleverest poet of his time a much worthier
man than Gottsched, with all his pompous knowledge. Gellert's
fame will outlive his. He is perhaps the only German who will no^
be forgotten. He attempts but little, and succeeds well. "
CHAPTER XIV.
THE KINO AND THE VILLAGE MAGISTRATE.
IN the little village of Voiseilvitz, near the Silesian frontier,
there was a great stir and excitement. The quartermaster of the
army had just arrived and announced the king's approach. He
then went on to the next village to seek quarters for the army.
After their many sufferings and wants, the weary soldiers were
much in need of rest and refreshment. They had passed many,
many miserable weeks, during which the most patient had become
disheartened. The king alone had retained his courage, his pres-
ence of mind, his activity and energy. He had borne, without
complaint, every want and privation. Surrounded by powerful
enemies, his great and clear mind had contrived the intrenchments
which encompassed his camp, and which had filled his enemies
with wonder. Neither Daun, Loudon, Butterlin, nor Ternitschow,
dared attack the camp that had suddenly become a strong fortress.
They gazed in wild amazement at their daring, invincible enemy ,
whom they had so often thought to ruin, and who had continually
with his lion strength broken the nets they had laid for him. Not
daring to attack him with their cannon and their swords, the allies
relied upon another much more fearful weapon hunger ! It was
impossible for the king, surrounded as he was by enemies, to obtain
food for his troops and fodder for the horses. But Frederick did not
cease to hope : he turned night into day and day into night ; thus he
was prepared for any movement. During the day he could observe
all that passed in the enemy's camp ; a few slight guards were
placed in the intrenchments, while the rest of the army slept. But
at night they did not sleep ; as soon as evening came, all the tents
were taken down, the cannon were planted, and behind them the
regiments were placed in line of battle. Thus they stood listening
in breathless silence for any sound or movement that would announce
the enemy's approach. AH were ready and waiting for them, de-
termined to die rather than surrender.
In spite of privations, want of rest and food, the army remained
hopeful, for their king shared their danger, wants, and sleepless
446 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
nights. He was always with them he hungered and worked with
them. If the soldiers were deprived of their rations, they had at
least the consolation of knowing that the king suffered likewise.
This strengthened and encouraged them.
The Prussians had fortitude to bear their sufferings, but their
enemy had not the patience to wait. Butterlin, the Russian com-
mander, tired of watching Frederick, withdrew to Poland ; and
Loudon, not feeling secure now in his isolated position, retired also.
After four weeks of agony and want, the Prussian army could
leave their encampment and seek both food and rest. They were to
recruit themselves in the villages in the vicinity of Strehlen ; the
king and his staff were to rest at Voiseilvitz. The house of the
magistrate had been chosen as the only dwelling-place fit for these
noble guests. The magistrate, elated at the honor, was marching
from room to room, scolding, imploring his servants to have every
thing clean and orderly.
" Remember, " said he, " a king is to inhabit this house ; he will
be enraged if there is the least spot or stain upon the floors or win-
dows, for of course he wears beautiful garments, covered with pearls
and diamonds, and embroidered in gold and silver. How fearful,
then, would it be were he to ruin them at my house ! He would be
infuriated, for money is scarce now, and I dare say as hard for him
to get as for us. "
At last, thanks to threats and entreaties, the house was in readi-
ness for the king. The front room was beautifully clean, and white
blinds were at the windows. The deal table was covered with a
snow-white damask cloth. Beside a window in which were placed
some bright plants, an old leathern arm-chair was standing, which
the magistrate intended for a throne. The walls were covered \vith
some portraits of the royal family of Prussia. Around a wretched
engraving of Frederick a wreath of immortelles and forget-me-nots
was woven. In a corner stood a large bed with clean white curtains
in readiness for the king. When every thing was arranged, with a
last proud look at his handsome dwelling, the magistrate hurried to
the front door, waiting anxiously for his guest. His heart beat
high with expectation his whole being was in commotion he was
to see a king for the first time, and he asked himself how this king
would look. " How glorious his eyes must be ! I think he must
radiate like the sun. It must almost blind the eyes to dwell upon
his splendor. "
Lost in these thoughts, he did not observe a cavalcade consisting
of three riders passing through the street. The foremost one was
enveloped in an old faded blue mantle, his large three- cornered hat
hung far over his brow, shading his eyes and his thin, pale counte-
THE KING AND THE VILLAGE MAGISTRATE. 447
nance. His heavy army boots were in need both of brushing and
mending. His two companions formed an agreeable contrast to
him. They wore the rich, glittering uniforms of Prussian staff offi-
cers. All about them was neat and elegant, and pleased the magis-
trate right well. The cavalcade now stopped at his house, and, to
the amazement of the villagers, the two spruce young officers sprang
to the ground -and hastened to assist the man in the blue mantle to
alight from his horse. But he waved them aside, and springing
lightly from the saddle, advanced to the house door. The magistrate
blocked up the way, and looking haughtily at the stranger, said :
"You undoubtedly belong to the servants of the king, and think,
therefore, to enter my house. But that cannot be. The king alone
will dwell with me. If you are what I suppose you to be, you must
go next door. My neighbor may have quarters for you."
The stranger smiled. Fixing his large, brilliant eyes sternly
upon the magistrate, he caused him to draw back almost in terror,
feeling as if the sun had really blinded him.
"I am not one of the king's servants," said the stranger, gayly,
" but I am invited to dine with him. "
" Then it is all right, " said the magistrate, " you can enter. But
you must first go into that little side-room and brush your shoes be-
fore the king sees you, for he would surely be enraged to find you
in dusty boots. "
The king laughed gayly, and entered the house. "I will go to
the king's chamber at once. I think he will forgive my shoes."
He beckoned to the two officers and entered his room, the door of
which he left open.
The magistrate took no more notice of him, but remained out-
side, looking eagerly for the king.
Frederick still did not come to illuminate the street with his
splendor. In his stead came generals and officers, with gold epaulets
and bright stars sparkling on their coats, and entered the king's
chamber, without a word to the magistrate.
" They are all waiting for the king, " murmured he, " but I shall
see him first. How splendid and magnificent are all these officers !
How grand, how glorious then must the king be, who is far nobler
than they ! He does not come ; I will enter and pass the time in
looking at all these splendidly-dressed soldiers. " He stepped lightly
to the door, and peered in. He started ; a low cry of terror escaped
him, as he looked at the scene -before him.
The generals the officers dressed in the gold and silver embroi-
dered uniforms stood around the room with bared heads ; in their
midst stood the stranger with the dusty boots. He alone had his
bat ou. He alone bore neither epaulets nor stars : he was clad in
448 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
simple uniform, without a single ornament, and still, wonderful to
say, it now seemed to the magistrate that he was more noble, more
splendid-looking than all the others. He was the smallest amongst
them, but seemed much taller. They stood with bowed heads belore
him ; he alone was raised proudly to his full height. There was
something grand and glorious in his countenance ; and when his
large, luminous eyes fell upon the magistrate, he endeavored in vain
to slip away he was rooted to the spot as if by magnetism.
" Will you not stay with us until the king comes?" said Frederick,
laughing.
The magistrate answered the smile with a broad grin. " I see,
sir, " said he, " that you are laughing at me. You know that you
yourself are the king. "
Frederick nodded an assent, and then turned to Prince Anhalt
von Dessau.
" You see, sir, how precarious a thing is the glory and magnifi-
cence of a king. This man took me for a servant ; his dull eyes
could not perceive my innate glory. "
"Your majesty justly calls this man's eyes dull," said the prince,
laughing.
Frederick looked at him kindly, and then began a low, earnest
conversation with his generals, who listened attentively to his
every word.
The magistrate still stood at the door. It seemed to him that he
had never seen any thing so splendid-looking as this man with the
muddy boots, the simple coat, and torn, unwieldy hat, whose coun-
tenance beamed with beauty, whose eyes glittered like stars.
"That, then, is really the king?" said he to one of the royal ser-
vants " the King of Prussia, who for five years has been fighting
with the empress for us?"
" Yes, it is him. "
"From to-day on I am a Prussian at heart," continued the mag-
istrate ; " yes, and a good and true one. The King of Prussia dresses
badly, that is true, but I suppose his object is to lighten the taxes. "
Passing his coat-sleeve across his misty eyes, he hastened to the
kitchen to investigate dinner.
CHAPTER XV.
THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.
SOME days had passed since the king entered Voiseilvitz. He
dwelt in the house of the magistrate, and the generals were quartered
in the huts of the village. The regiments were in the neighboring
THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 449
hamlets. The king lived quietly in his house, wholly given up to
anxiety and discontent. He ate alone in his room, spoke to no one,
or if he did, said only a few grave words. All jesting was vanished
from his lips ; he was never seen to smile, never heard to play the
flute. The grief which oppressed his heart was too profound to be
confided to the soft and melting tones of his flute. Even that cher-
ished companion could now give him no consolation. Fearful, hor
rible intelligence had followed him from the encampment at Strehlen.
It had poisoned these days of long-denied and necessary rest, and
shrouded the gloomy future with yet darker presentiments of evil.
Schweidnitz, the strong fortress, the key of Silesia, which had been
so long and with such mighty effort defended, had fallen ! had
yielded to the Austrians and Frederick had thus lost the most im-
portant acquisition of the last year, and thus his possession of Silesia
was again made doubtful. He looked sadly back upon all the pre-
cious blood which had been shed to no purpose upon all the great
and hardly-won battles, won in vain. He looked forward with an
aching heart to the years of blood and battle which must follow.
Frederick longed for rest and peace he was weary of bloodshed and
of war. Like an alluring, radiant picture of paradise, the image
of his beloved Sans-Souci passed from time to time before his soul.
He dreamed of his quiet library and his beautiful picture-gallery.
And yet his courage was unconquered and he preferred the torture
of these wretched days he preferred death itself to the unfavorable
and humiliating peace which his proud enemies, made presumptu-
ous by their last successes, dared to offer him. They stood opposed
to him in monstrous superiority, but Frederick remained unshaken.
With a smaller army and fewer allies Alexander demolished Persia.
" But happily, " he said to himself, " there was no Alexander to lead
his enemies to victory. "
Frederick did not despair, and yet he did not believe in the pos-
sibility of triumph. He preferred an honorable death to a dishon-
orable peace. He would rather fall amidst the proud ruins of
Prussia, made great by his hand, than return with her to their former
petty insignificance. They offered him peace, but a peace which
compelled him to return the lands he had conquered, and to pay to
his victorious enemies the costs of the war.
The king did not regard these mortifying propositions as worthy
of consideration, and he commanded his ambassador, whom he had
sent to Augsburg to treat with the enemy, to return immediately.
" It is true, " he said to his confidant, Le Catt, " all Europe is com
bined against me all the great powers have resolved upon my de-
struction. And England, the only friend I did possess in Europe,
has now abandoned rue. "
450 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" But one has remained faithful. "
"'Among the faithless, faithful only he ' Among the innumer
able false, unmoved, unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, that is my
sword. If the exalted empresses are not my friends, the greater
honor to my good sword which has never failed me, and which shall
go down with me into the dark grave. If in Europe I have neither
friends nor allies, I may find both in other parts of the world. Asia
may send me the troops whicli Europe denies. If Russia is my
enemy, who knows but for this reason Turkey may become my ally?
And who knows but an alliance with the so-called unbelievers would
be of more value to Prussia than a league with the so-called believ-
ing Russians? They call themselves Christians, but their weapons
are lies, intrigues, deceit, and treachery. The Moslem, however, is
an honorable man and a brave soldier. If he calls his God Allah,
and his Christ Mohammed, God may call him to account. I have
nothing to do with it. What has faith to do with the kings of this
world? Besides, I believe the Turks and Tartars are better Chris-
tians than the Russians. "
" Your majesty is really, then, thinking of an alliance with the
Turks and Tartars?" said Le Catt.
" I am thinking of it so earnestly, " said the king, eagerly, " that
day and night I think of nothing else. I have spared no cost, no
gold, no labor, to bring it about. Once I had almost succeeded,
and the Sublime Porte was inclined to this league ; and my ambas-
sador, Rexin, was, with the consent of the Grand Vizier Mustapha,
and indeed by his advice, disguised and sent secretly to Constanti-
nople. The negotiations were almost completed, when the Russian
and French ambassadors discovered my plans, and by bribery, lies,
and intrigues of every base sort, succeeded in interfering. Mustapha
broke his promise, and his only answer to me was ' that the Sublime
Porte must wait for happier and more propitious days to confirm
her friendship and good understanding with the King of Prussia. '
This was the will of God the Almighty. This propitious year has
been a long time coming, but I hope it is now at hand, and this
longed-for alliance will at length be concluded. The last dispatches
from my ambassador in Constantinople seem favorable. The wise
and energetic Grand Vizier Raghile, the first self-reliant and enter-
prising Turkish statesman, has promised Rexin to bring this matter
before the sultan, and I am daily expecting a courier who will bring
me a decisive and perhaps favorable answer from Tartary. " *
Le Catt gazed with admiration upon the noble, excited counte-
nance of the king. " Oh, sire, " said he, deeply moved, " pardon,
that in the fulness of my heart, overcome with joy and rapture, I
* Kainmer, " History of the Porte," vol. viiL, p. 190.
THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. \ 451
dare for once to give expression in words to my love and my admi-
ration. It is a glorious spectacle to see the proud oak in the midst
of the wild tempest firm and unmoved, not even bowing its proud
head to the raging elements, offering a bold but calm defiance. But
it is a still more exalted spectacle to see a man with a brave heart
and flashing eye defy disaster and death ; alone, in the conscious
ness of his own strength, meeting Fate as an adversary and gazing
upon it eye to eye un terrified. Misfortune is like the lion of the
desert. If a man with steady eye and firm step advances to meet
him, he ceases to roar and lies down humbly at his feet ; he recog-
nizes and quails before man made in the likeness of God. You, my
king, now offer this spectacle to the astonished world. Can you
wonder that I, who am ever near you, are filled with devotion and
adoration, and must at last give utterance to my emotion ? I have
seen your majesty on the bloody battle-field, and in the full con-
sciousness of victory, but never have I seen the laurels which crown
your brow so radiant as in these days of your misfortune and defeat.
Never was the King of Prussia so great a hero, so glorious a con-
queror, as during these last weeks of destitution and gloom. You
have hungered with the hungry, you have frozen with the freezing ;
you have passed the long, weary nights upon your cannon or upon
the hard, cold earth. You have divided your last drop of wine with
the poor soldiers. You did this, sire ; I was in your tent and wit-
nessed it I alone. You sat at your dinner a piece of bread and
one glass of Hungarian wine, the last in your possession. An officer
entered with his report. You asked him if he had eaten. He said
yes, but his pale, thin face contradicted his words. You, sire,
broke off the half of your bread, you drank the half of your wine,
then gave the rest to the officer, saying in an almost apologetic tone,
'It is all that I have. ' Sire, on that day I did what since my youth
I have not done I wept like a child, and my every glance upon
your noble face was a prayer. "
" Enthusiast, " said the king, giving his hand to Le Catt with a
kindly smile, " is the world so corrupt that so natural an act should
excite surprise, and appear great and exalted? Are you astonished
at that which is simply human? But look! There is a courier!
He stops before the door of my peasant-palace. Quick, quick ! Le
Catt ; let me know the news he brings. "
Le Catt hastened off, and returned at once with the dispatches.
Frederick took them with impatient haste, and while he read,
his grave face lightened, and a happy, hopeful smile played once
more upon his lips. " Ah, Le Catt, " said he, " I was a good prophet,
and my hopes are about to be fulfilled. Europe is against me, but
Asia is my ally. The barbarous Russians are my enemies, but the
452 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
honest Turks and Tartars are my friends. This dispatch is from my
ambassador Rexin. He is coming, accompanied by an ambassadoi
of Tartary, and may be here in a few hours. "
"Where will your majesty receive him?" said Le Catt.
The king looked around smilingly at the little room, with the
rude walls and dirty floor.
" I will receive him here!" said he; "here, in my royal palace
of Voiseilvitz. I am forced to believe that a right royal king would,
by his presence, transform the lowliest hut into a palace, and the
most ordinary chair into a throne. The eyes of the ambassador
may, however, be as dull as those of the worthy possessor of my
present palace. It may be that he will not recognize me as the visi-
ble representative of God as king by the grace of God. We must
therefore come to his assistance, and show ourselves in all the daz-
zling glitter of royalty. We must improvise a throne, and, it ap-
pears to me, that leathern arm-chair, which certainly belonged to a
grandfather, is well suited to the occasion. It will be a worthy rep-
resentation of my throne, which was my grandfather's throne ; he
erected it, and I inherited it from him. Shove it, then, into the
middle of the room, and fasten some of the Russian flags, which we
took at Zorndorf, on the wall behind it ; spread my tent-carpet on
the floor, and my throne saloon is ready. Quick, Le Catt, make
your preparations ; call the servants, and show them what they have
to do. In the mean time, I will make my toilet ; I must not appear
before the worthy ambassador in such unworthy guise. " The king
rang hastily, and his valet, Deesen, entered. "Deesen, " said he,
gayly, " we will imagine ourselves to be again in Sans-Souci, and
about to hold a great court. I must do then, what I have not done
for a long time make grande toilette. I will wear my general's
uniform, and adorn myself with the order of the Black Eagle. I
will have my hair frizzed, and screw up an imposing cue. Well,
Deesen, why do you gaze at me so wildly ?"
"Sire, the general's coat is here, but "
"Well, but what?" cried the king, impatiently.
"But the breeches! the breeches!" stammered Deesen, turning
pale ; " they are torn ; and those your majesty now wears, are your
last and only ones. "
" Well, then, " said the king, laughing, " I will continue to wear
my last and only breeches ; I will put on my general's coat, voild
tout."
"That is wholly impossible," cried Deesen, wringing his hands.
" If your majesty proposes to hold a great court, you cannot possibly
wear these breeches !"
"Why not? why not?" said the king, fiercely.
THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 453
"Sire," murmured Deesen, "sire, that has happened to them
which happened to your majesty at Torgau. "
" That is to say " said the king, questioningly.
"That is to say, they are wounded. "
Frederick looked surprised, and following the glance of his valet,
he found his eyes fixed upon his knees.
"You are right, Deesen, " said he, laughing; "that disaster has
befallen my breeches which befell me at Torgau : they are wounded,
and need a surgeon. "
"Your majesty must therefore graciously postpone your great
court till to-morrow. Perhaps I may find a tailor in one of the
neighboring villages ; he will work during the night, and early to-
morrow every thing will be in order. "
"It muse be done to-day done immediately," cried the king.
" In a few hours the injury must be healed, and my apparel fully
restored to health."
" But, sire, " whispered Deesen, " how can that be possible? Your
majesty has but one pair, and you must take them off, in order that
they may be mended. "
" Well, I will take them off, " said the king ; " go and seek the
tailor. I will undress and go to bed till this important operation is
performed. Go at once !"
While the king was undressing, he heard DeeRen's stentoriac
voice, calling out lustily through the streets " A tailor f a tailor i
is there a tailor amongst the soldiers?"
The king was scarcely covered up in bed before Deesen entered,
with a joyous face.
"Sire, I have found a soldier who can do the work ; he is not a
tailor, but he swears he can sew and patch, and he undertakes to
dress the wounds. "
" And yet, it is said that a higher power rules the world, " mur-
mured the king, when he was again alone ; " accident accident
decides all questions. If there had been no tailor amongst the
soldiers, the King of Prussia could not have received the ambassador
of Tartary to-day, and the negotiations might have been broken off. "
At this moment the door opened, and Le Catt entered, followed
by a servant with the Russian flags and the carpet. When he saw
the king in bed, he started back, and asked anxiously " if his majesty
had been taken suddenly unwell?"
" No, " said Frederick, " I am only making my toilet. n
"Your toilet, sire?"
"Yes, Le Catt, did you see a soldier at the door?"
"Yes, sire."
" What was he doing?"
454 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" He seemed to be sewing. "
"He is sewing, and he is to-day my first gentleman of the bed-
chamber ; he is dressing me. Ah ! in the presence of this humble
patcher, I remember that a wise man said, 'A king is but a man to
his valet de chambre. ' But do not allow my presence to prevent
you from building my throne ; I will rest here comfortably, and
look on."
While the king lay in bed waiting, the soldier who had under-
taken the job, sat on a bench before the door. He bent his head
zealously over his work, and did not once look up to his comrade
who stood near him, leaning against a large oak, gazing rigidly and
unweariedly at him. But in this steady and indefatigable glance,
there seemed r to be a strange, attractive power, which the soldier
could not resist. He raised his head involuntarily for a moment,
and the sweet and noble face of Charles Henry Buschman was seen.
" Fritz Kober, " said he, " why do you gaze at me so, and why
do you follow me?"
"Because I have been so accustomed to be where you are !" said
Fritz Kober, quietly. " When I heard Deesen call for a tailor, and
you answered, 'Here ! here !' I stepped out of my tent and followed
you ; nothing more ! But you would also know why I look at you ?
Well, while it pleases me to see you sewing, it brings strange and
pleasant thoughts to my mind. "
" What sort of strange and pleasant thoughts, Fritz?" said Charles
Henry, bowing down again earnestly over his work.
" I thought, " said Fritz Kober, in a trembling voice, " that if
ever I should take a wife, she must look exactly as you do, Charles
Henry ; she must have the same neat little hands, and be expert
with the needle as you are. Then I thought further, that in the
whole world there was no man so good and brave, so gentle and in-
telligent as you. Then I considered what would become of me
when the war was at an end, and you should desert me and go back
to your village. Then I resolved to follow you through the whole
world, and not to cease my prayers and entreaties till you promised
to come into my hut, and take all that was mine under the condi-
tion that you would keep me always with you at least as your
servant and never spurn me or cast me off. Then, I thought
further, that if you said no if you refused to come into my house,
I would wander far away in despair, and, in the anguish of my
heart I would become a bad and contemptible man. Without you,
Charles Henry, there is no joy or peace in this world for me ; you
are my good angel ! Charles Henry Buschman, do you wish me to
be a dissolute drunkard?"
"How can I wish that, Fritz Kober?" whispered Charles Henry.
THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. 455
" But you could never be a bad man ; you have the best and noblest
heart in the world ! No man dare injure or abuse you ! You give
to those who ask of you, you help those who suffer, and you stand
by those who are in difficulty ! Then you are a complete, true man,
and know how to maintain your own dignity on every occasion.
All who approach you are compelled to respect you, and no one will
ever dare to cast a reproach on Fritz Kober. You are, at the same
time, a hero, a good man, and an innocent child, and my heart
rejoices in you. "
" What is good in me, I owe to you, " said Fritz Kober. " Before
I knew you, I was a simple blockhead, and lived on stupidly from
day to day, thinking of nothing. Since I knew you, I have learned
to open my eyes, and to reflect. But all this will be changed if you
desert me, Charles Henry, and I see that you will do so ; yes, you
will abandon me. For three weeks past you have taken no notice
of me. You would not go into my tent with me at Bunzelwitz, but
camped out alone. Here, in the village, you would not come into
my hut, but quartered with an old peasant woman. So I followed
you to-day, to ask you, once for all, if you have the heart to leave
me to spurn me from you? Look at me, Charles Henry ! look at
me and tell me if you will make a pitiful and unhappy man of me?"
Charles Henry looked up from his work, and gazed at the pale,
agitated face of his comrade ; and as he did so, tears gushed from
his eyes.
" God forbid, Fritz Kober, that I should make you unhappy !
I would rather shed my heart's blood to make you happy."
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Fritz Kober. "If this is so, listen to
me and answer me, Charles Henry Buschman, will you be my wife?"
A glowing blush suffused Charles Henry's face ; he bowed down
over his work and sewed on in monstrous haste.
Fritz Kober came nearer and bowed so low that he was almost
kneeling.
" Charles Henry Buschman, will you be my wife ?"
Charles Henry did not answer ; tears and sobs choked his voice,
and trembling with emotion he laid his head on Fritz Kober's
shoulder.
"Does that mean yes?" said Fritz, breathlessly.
" Yes, " whispered she, softly.
And now Fritz uttered a wild shout, and threw his arms around
the soldier's neck and kissed him heartily.
" God be thanked that it is over, " said he ; " God be thanked
that I did not deceive myself that you are truly a girl. When you
were last sick, and the surgeon bled you, I was suspicious. I said
to myself, ' That is not the arm of a man. ' I went out, but in the
456 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
evening you were praying, and you did not know that I was in the
tent, and you said, 'You dear parents in heaven, pity your poor
daughter. ' I could have shouted with rapture and delight, but I
held my peace. I wished to wait and see if you would be good to
me."
"But the expression of your eyes was so changed," whispered
Charles Henry ; " I was obliged to turn away when their glance fell
upon me. I felt that my secret was discovered, and therefore I
avoided being with you. "
" Officer Buschman, " cried Deesen, in a commanding voice from
the house, " is your work finished?"
" Immediately ; I have but a few stitches to do, " cried Charles
Henry. " Be silent, " said he to Fritz, " and let me sew. "
But Fritz was not silent ; he crouched near officer Buschman,
and whispered many and strange things in his ear.
Charles Henry sewed on zealously, blushed often, and replied in
low, embarrassed words.
At last the work was completed, and the knees of the great
Frederick's breeches were worthily mended with divers patches.
" I will carry them myself to the king, as I have a favor to ask
him, " said Fritz Kober. " Come with me, Charles Henry ; you
must hear what the king says. "
He took Charles Henry's hand and advanced to the door, but
Deesen stood there, and forbade him to enter ; he ordered Fritz to
give him the breeches.
" No, " said Fritz Kober, resolutely, " we have a request to make
of the king, and he once gave us permission to come directly to him
when we had a favor to ask. "
He pushed Deesen aside and entered the room with Charles
Henry.
The king sat in his bed reading, and was so absorbed that he did
not see them enter. But Fritz stepped up boldly to the bed and laid
the breeches upon the chair.
"Did you mend them, my son?" said the king.
" No, your majesty, Charles Buschman mended them, but I came
along to say something to your majesty. You remember, no doubt,
what you said when we returned from the enemy's camp near
Kimersdorf, after the battle, when Charles Henry related so beauti-
fully all that we had seen and heard. You said, 'You are both offi-
cers from this day, and if you ever need my assistance call upon me
freely.'"
"And you wish to do so now?" said the king.
"Yes, your majesty, I have something to ask."
"Well, what is it?"
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY. 457
Fritz Kober drew up grandly and ceremoniously.
" I ask your majesty to allow me to marry officer Charles Henry
Buschman to marry him to-day !"
" Marry him !" said the king, amazed ; " is, then, officer Busch-
man "
"A woman, your majesty!" interrupted Fritz Kober, with joy-
ful impatience. " He is a woman ; his name is Anna Sophia Detz-
loff , from Brunen. "
Frederick's sharp, piercing eye rested for a moment questioningly
upon Charles Henry's face ; then nodding his head smilingly several
times, he said :
"Your bride is a spruce lad and a brave officer, and knows how
to blush in his soldier's uniform. Officer Charles Henry Buschman,
will you be the wife of officer Fritz Kober?"
" I will, if your majesty consents, " whispered Charles Henry.
" Well, go to the field -preacher, and be married I give my con-
sent. And now go, I must dress.
"At last," said the king to Le Catt, "fortune will be again
favorable to me. Signs and wonders are taking place, as they did
with Charles VH. of France. When he was in the most dire neces-
sity, surrounded by his enemies, the Lord sent the Maid of Orleans
to save him. To me, also, has the Lord now sent a Joan d'Arc,
a maid of Brunen. With her help I will overcome all my enemies. "
CHAPTER XVI.
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY.
THE preparations were completed ; the room of the king had be-
come, by means of his inventive genius, a magnificenct throne
saloon. The great arm-chair, draped with rich hangings, looked
almost imposing ; the dirty floor was concealed by a costly Turkish
carpet. The door which led into the entry had been removed, and
the opening hung with banners. The entry itself had been changed
by means of carpets, banners, and standards into a tasteful ante-
chamber.
The king wore his general's uniform, and the chain of the order
of the Black Eagle, and the generals and staff officers stood near
him in their glittering dresses. The room of the sheriff had indeed
become a royal apartment.
And now an imposing train approached this improvised palaco.
First appeared two riders, whose gold-embroidered mantles fell be-
low their feet and concealed the well-shaped bodies of the small
30
458 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Arabian horses on which they were mounted, only displaying their
slender necks, with their flowing manes and their graceful legs. It
was evident from their dark complexions and flashing eyes that
these men were foreigners, the sons of the South. On each appeared
the diamond-headed hilt of a sword, glittering amid the folds of
the costly Turkish shawls which encircled their slender waists ; and
at the side of each hung the jewelled sheath of a Damascus blade,
which was held in the right hand, and presented in salutation.
These Turkish warriors were followed by two others, scarcely less
richly dressed, and behind them rode four men, in long black robes,
with eyes closed, each bearing in his right hand a book bound in
gold and velvet, which he pressed prayerfully to his breast ; a
golden pen was worn in their girdles in place of a weapon, and on
the fez an artistically arranged and jewelled peacock's feather.
Now followed two other riders ; but these were not alike, as the
others had been, but bore the most remarkable and striking con-
trast to one another. One of them was dressed in the latest French
style ; he wore a blue, silver-embroidered velvet coat, with small-
clothes of the same material, which met his white silk stockings at
the knee, and were fastened by a band with a diamond clasp. His
shoes were also ornamented with diamond buckles and red heels.
He wore a three-cornered hat, with a white feather, which was
placed lightly and gracefully upon his stiffly- curled, well-powdered
peruke. Splendid lace covered his breast, and broad lace cuffs fell
over his white gloved hands. It was a perfect ball dress, such as
was worn at that time at court by all ambassadors who were not
military, in their ceremonious audiences with the sovereign.
Near this man, dressed so gracefully and airily, was another
cavalier who presented a great contrast to him. As the one seemed
dressed for a summer day, so the other appeared prepared for the
coldest weather ; the one was ready for the ball-room, and the other
for the steppes of Siberia. The long, thin figure of the latter was
concealed by a fur mantle, made of the skin of the white Lapland
wolf, and lined and trimmed with a darker fur ; around his waist
was bound a costly gold-embroidered shawl, from which hung a
small golden cup, and a richly ornamented razor. At his side, in-
stead of the Turkish sabre, a bag, richly worked with gold and
pearls, was suspended by golden chains. He wore a fez, on the front
of which was embroidered a small golden cup.
Behind these two men came a troop of Turkish, Tartar, and
European servants, all in livery ; and these were followed by a
golden chariot, with closely-drawn blinds, the interior being im-
penetrable to the most curious gaze. Four Tartars in long white
fur mantles rode on either side of the chariot, with drawn swords.
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY. 459
The chariot was followed by a most remarkable crowd, consisting
of Prussian soldiers from every regiment, and in every variety of
uniform, of peasants and their wives, of old men and children, who
were all struck dumb with astonishment and admiration at the sight
of this strange cavalcade which now paused before the king's house.
The guards saluted, and the generals and staff officers advanced
silently and bowed profoundly to the two cavaliers, who were such
a singular contrast to one another, and who were evidently the im-
portant persons of the cavalcade. They swung themselves lightly
from their saddles, and returned the polite greetings of the generals ;
the one in fluent German, the other in equally flowing words, but
in a language which no one understood, and to which the only
answer was a few murmured words, a smile, and hieroglyphic hand-
pressures.
The first was the Baron von Rexin, the ambassador of the king to
the Grand Sultan and the Khan of Tartary, who had been so fortu-
nate as to become the minster plenipotentiary of the King of Prussia
under the title given him by the king of Baron von Rexin, after
having been the servant of a merchant in' Breslau, called Hubsch.
The second was the great and noble Mustapha Aga, the ambassador
of Krimgirai, the Khan of Tartary. He was the favorite and con-
fidant of his master, and was sent by him to bear his greetings and
good wishes to the King of Prussia.
As soon as they had dismounted, a page of the king approached
and invited them to enter the house, where tl.e king was waiting to
ive them audience. Baron von Rexin, who during his residence
in Turkey had learned the Turkish language, informed the ambassa-
dor. A smile appeared upon Mustapha Aga's thin, pale face, and
he turned to the four men in black robes, who wore the golden pens
in their belts, and signed to them to follow him, and then taking the
arm of Baron von Rexin, they both entered the house, followed by
the four historians and interpreters ; the generals and staff officers
of the king then arranging themselves on either side of the throne,
according to their rank.
The king received the embassy sitting upon his throne. His eye
rested smilingly upon Mustapha Aga, who had just bent to the
earth before his throne, and as he arose signed to one of the four in-
terpreters to approach. The interpreter opened the costly book,
which he held in his hand, and handed the ambassador a large doc-
ument, covered with seals, which Mustapha Aga pressed respect-
fully to his lips, and then kneeling, presented it respectfully to the
king.
" Mustapha Aga, the ambassador of the high and mighty Khan
of Tartary, Krimgirai, has the unutterable honor to present hi*
160 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
credentials to the King of Prussia," said the interpreter, in the
purest and most fluent French.
The king broke the seal, and looked hurriedly over the document.
' Mustapha Aga, " he said, " you are most welcome ; and I greet your
master, the hero Krimgirai, whom I am proud to call my friend, in
you. "
After the interpreter repeated the words of the king, Mustapha
Aga threw himself upon his knees before the throne, and spoke
rapidly for a few moments.
" Mustapha Aga, the ambassador of the great Khan, " said the
interpreter, " entreats your majesty to allow him to show you the
highest proof of his respect, to greet you in the manner in which he
alone, in great and beautiful Tartary, is permitted to greet the
Khan."
"I grant his request, " said the king.
Mustapha immediately opened the pouch which hung at his side,
and took from it a crystal flask, from which he poured a fluid into
the cup, and a delightful perfume immediately pervaded the room.
After putting a small quantity of white powder into the cup, he
proceeded to stir the contents with a brush, of which the handle was
ornamented with three diamonds of immense size. The fluid now
arose into a sparkling milk-white foam.
The king looked curiously at him at first, and then turned to his
ambassador. "What does this mean?" he asked in German, proba-
bly because he did not wish to be understood by the interpreter.
" Sire, " said Rexin, smiling, " that means that the noble Mustapha
Aga wishes to show you the greatest honor in his power, he wishes
to shave you. "
"To shave me!" exclaimed the king. "Who and what is the
noble Mustapha Aga?"
" Sire, he is one of the greatest dignitaries of Tartary ; he is the
barber of the Khan !"
The king could scarcely restrain a smile at this explanation.
" Well, " he said, " it is not a bad idea to make a diplomat and am-
bassador of a barber. The gentlemen of the diplomatic corps are
given to shaving in politics and frequently put soap in the eyes of
the world. "
Mustapha Aga now approached the king with solemn steps, and
bending forward, he thrust his forefinger into the foam in the golden
cup and passed it lightly across the king's chin. He then drew
forth the golden razor from his belt. But before opening it, he
i-aised his eyes prayerfully to heaven, and spoke a few solemn words.
" Allah is the light of heaven and earth ! May He illuminate me in
my great work !" said the interpreter, translating Mustapha's words.
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY. 461
Then the ambassador began his dignified work ; drawing the
blade of his knife across the chin of the king with a rapid movement.
The king and his generals and attendants, were scarcely able to
retain their composure during this performance.
When Mustapha had finished, he signed to one of the interpreters
to approach, and as he kneeled before him he wiped the foam from
his razor on the back of his uplifted hand. Then thrusting it in his
belt, he bowed deeply and solemnly to the king.
" May Allah keep the heart of this king as pure as his chin now is !"
he said. "May the knife which Allah employs to prune away the
faults of this king, pass over him as gently and painlessly as the
knife of your unworthy servant has done ! Mighty king and lord,
the all-powerful Khan Krimgirai, the lion of the desert, the dread
of his enemies, sends me to you and offers you his aid and friend-
ship. The renown of your deeds has reached his ears, and he is lost
in astonishment that a prince, of whose kingdom and existence he
was in ignorance, should so long successfully resist the great Ger-
man sultan, whose power we know, without fearing. The eagle eye
of my master now sees clearly that he who was so insignificant is
now great enough to overshadow the land of the powerful German
sultan, and to make the proud and unbending czarina of the north
tremble. He sends me to report to you his profound admiration ;
but first, will you allow me, O eagle king of the north ! to present
the gifts which he offers you?"
"I shall be delighted to receive these gifts," said the king, smil-
ing, " as they are a proof of the friendship of the great Khan. "
Mustapha Aga made a signal in the direction of the door, and
spoke a few words aloud. Immediately there appeared the two men
who were so richly dressed in Turkish costumes, and had been at the
head of the cavalcade. They stationed themselves on either side of
the entrance, and were followed by the lower officers and servants
attached to the embassy, who entered, bearing baskets delicately
woven and lined with rich stuffs.
Mustapha signed to the first two to approach him, and then, be-
fore opening the basket, he turned once more to the king.
" Sire, " said he, " before a Tartar gives a promise of love and
friendship to any one, he invitee him to his house, and begs him to
eat of his bread and drink of his wine. Sire, my great and respected
master makes use of his unworthy servant to entreat your majesty
to descend from your throne and to enter his house, where he is
present in spirit, and bids the eagle king of the north welcome. "
" I should be delighted to grant this request, " returned the king,
smiling, " were the distance not so great between my house and that
of the Khan."
462 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Sire, the house of my great master is before your door," said
Mustapha Aga, bowing deeply. u On the day of our departure, the
Khan walked through it and kissed its walls, and exclaimed: 'Be
greeted, my great and royal brother, you eagle of the north ! Be
welcome, you hero-king, the hated enemy of the czarina, Krimgirai
offers you his heart, and would be your friend for all time. ' Sire,
thus spoke my lord the Khan ; the air in his house is still vibrating
with the words he uttered. "Will your majesty condescend to leave
your throne and visit my great master, the Khan Krimgirai?"
The king arose instantly and said, " I am well pleased to do so.
Lead me to the palace of your Khan. "
Mustapha Aga signed to the basket -carriers and to the other
attendants to leave the room, and then spoke a few rapid and em-
phatic words to the interpreters, who followed them. Then bowing
to the ground before the king, he turned and passed out of the house.
Before the door a wonderful spectacle presented itself to the as-
tonished view of the king. Immediately opposite the house, on the
open square, a high tent, of considerable size, appeared, around
which was a wall of fur, well calculated to protect it from the cold
air and rough winds. A carpet covered the way from the door of
the tent to the king's house, and from within the tent could be heard
the gentle notes of a peculiar music.
" Really, " said the king to his ambassador, Von Rexin, "I seem
to be living in the ' Arabian Nights. ' There is nothing wanting but
the beautiful Scheherezade. "
" Sire, perhaps she also is here, " said Von Rexin ; " we were
accompanied by a close chariot, guarded by four of the khan's
eunuchs. "
The king laughed, and said, "We will see," and he rapidly ap-
proached the hut. As he reached it, the door flew open, and Mus-
tapha Aga received him kneeling, while his attendants threw them-
selves to the ground, touching it with their foreheads.
The king entered and examined with great curiosity the house of
the Khan. The interior of this immense tent was hung with crim-
son draperies, amongst which arose twenty golden pillars which
supported the tent. At the top of these was an immense golden
ring from which the crimson draperies hung, and above this ring
were twenty golden pillars which, uniting in the centre at the top,
formed the dome of the tent. From the centre hung a golden vase,
in which burned the rarest incense. The floor was covered by a
great Turkish carpet, and against the walls stood several divans,
such as are generally used in the dwellings of the wealthy Turks.
In the centre of the tent, just under the suspended vase, stood a low,
gilt table, decked with a service of glittering porphyry. One side
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY. 463
of the tent was separated from the rest by heavy curtains of a costly
material, and from hence came the sound of music, which now arose
in loud, triumphant tones, as if greeting the king.
His majesty moved rapidly to the middle of the tent, while his
attendants stood against the walls, and Mustapha Aga and his inter-
preter stood near the king.
Mustapha then took a sword which was on the table, and, after
kissing it, handed it to the king. "Sire," he said, "the great
Krimgirai first offers you his sword, as a sign of his love and good-
will. He begs that on the day of the great victory which you and
he will undoubtedly gain over the hated czarina of the north, you
will wear this sword at your side. A sword like this tempered in
the same fire and ornamented with the same design is worn by the
Khan. When these two swords cut the air, Russia will tremble as
if shaken by an earthquake. "
The king received the sword from Mustapha Aga, and looked at
it attentively. Then pointing to the golden letters which ornamented
the blade, he asked the significance of the motto.
" Sire, " replied Mustapha, solemnly, " it is the battle-cry of the
Tartar : 'Death is preferable to defeat. '"
" I accept the sword with great pleasure, " said the king. " This
motto embodies in a few words the history of a war, and discloses
more of its barbarity, than many learned and pious expositions could
do. I thank the Khan for his beautiful gift. "
" The Khan hears your words, sire, for his spirit is among us. "
Mustapha, after begging the king to seat himself upon the large
divan, drew aside the opening of the tent, when the servants with
the covered baskets immediately appeared, and placed themselves
in a double row around the tent. Mustapha then took the basket
from the first couple, and throwing back the cover, said : u Sire,
will you condescend to eat of the bread and drink of the favorite
beverage of the Khan, that the ties of your friendship may be
strengthened? The Khan sends you a costly ham a proof of his
unselfish friendship. He had his favorite horse killed, the one that
he has ridden for years, that he might offer you a ham from this
noble animal. "
As the interpreter translated these words, the Prussian generals
and officers glanced smiling and mockingly at one another.
The king alone remained grave, and turning to the generals, he
said in German :
" Ah, gentlemen ! how happy we would have been, had any one
brought us this meat at the siege of Bunzelwitz, and how ravenously
we would have eaten it !"
He then turned again to the ambassador, who, taking from the
464 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY
other baskets Carian dates and almonds ; and other Eastern dainties
in silver dishes, placed them before the king. Mustapha then uttered
a loud, commanding cry, and the door of the tent was again opened,
and there appeared a Tartar, dressed in white wolf-skin, bearing a
golden dish, which contained a steaming, white liquid. He took
it, and kneeled with it before Frederick.
"Sire," said he, "my master begs you to drink with him of his
favorite beverage. He pressed his lips to the rim of this dish before
sending it to you, and if you will now do the same, the eagle and
hero of the north will receive the brotherly kiss of the eagle and
hero of the south. "
"What is it?" asked the king, in a low voice, of Baron von
Rexin, who stood near the divan.
"Sire, it is mare's milk !" whispered Rexin.
The king shuddered, and almost overturned the contents of the
dish which he had just received from the hands of Mustapha Aga ;
but quickly overcoming this feeling, he raised the bowl smilingly to
his mouth. After placing his lips upon the rim, he returned the
bowl to the ambassador.
" I have received the kiss of my friend. May our friendship be
eternal !"
"Allah grant this prayer!" cried Mustapha. "Sire, Krimgirai
dares, as this beverage is such a favorite with all Turks, to hope
that it may please you ; he therefore offers you the animal from
which it was procured." He then pointed to the opening in the
tent, where now appeared a noble Arabian horse, wearing a costly
saddle and bridle, and a crimson saddle-cloth richly worked with
pearls and precious stones.
The eyes of the king beamed with pleasure, and as he hurried
through the tent and approached the horse, the animal seemed to
wish to greet his new master, for it neighed loudly, and pawed the
sand with its well-shaped feet. The king gently stroked its slender,
shining neck and its full, fluttering mane, and looked in the great,
flashing eyes.
"You are welcome, my battle - horse !" he said; "may you bear
me in the next engagement either to victory or death !"
He then returned to his seat, in order to receive the remaining
presents of the Khan, consisting of costly weapons and furs.
"And now, sire, the Khan begs that you will repose in his tent,
and listen to the music that he loves, and look at the dances which
give him pleasure. My master knows that the great King of Prussia
loves music as he does, and that it gladdens your heart as it does
his own. When he goes to battle which is but going to victory
he takes with him his musicians and dancers, who must perform
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY. 465
the dance of triumph before him. The Khan hopes that you will
permit them to dance before you, and I pray that your majesty will
grant this request. "
" I am ready to behold and hear all, " said the king.
Immediately, at a sign from Mustapha, the curtain which con-
cealed part of the tent was withdrawn, and four lovely girls, clothed
in light, fluttering apparel, appeared and commenced a graceful,
beautiful dance, to the music of the mandoline. When they had
finished, they retired to the curtain, and looked with great, wonder-
ing eyes at the Prussian warrior. Then appeared from behind the
curtain four young men, who seated themselves opposite the girls.
The musicians began a new strain, in which the girls and young
men joined. Then two of the girls arose, and drawing their veils
over their faces so that only their eyes were visible, they danced
lightly and swayingly to the end of the tent, and then returned to
the young men, who now commenced the love-songs, with downcast
eyes, not daring to call the name of the objects of their tenderness,
but addressing them in poetical terms ; and then they sang to the
same air the battle-song of the Tartars. In this song, the battles are
not only pictured forth, but you hear the shrieks of the warriors,
the battle-cry of the Tartars, and, at length, when the battle is won,
the loud shouts of rejoicing from the women. When the song was
ended, the singers bowed themselves to the earth, and then disap-
peared behind the curtain.
The music ceased, and the king, rising from the divan, and
turning to Mustapha, said :
"I owe to the Khan a most delightful morning, and I will take a
pleasant remembrance of his house with me. "
" Sire, " said Mustapha, " the Khan begs you to accept this tent as
a proof of his friendship. "
The king bowed smilingly, and as he left the tent, told Rexin to
ask the Tartar ambassador to come to him now for a grave conference.
The king then dismissed his generals and attendants, and entered
his house, followed by Baron von Rexin and the Turkish ambassador
and his interpreters.
"Now we will speak of business!" said the king. "What news
do you bring me from the Khan ? What answer does he make to
my proposition ?"
" Sire, he is willing to grant all that your majesty desires, and to
give you every assistance in his power, provided you will not make
peace with our hated enemy with Russia but will continue the war
unweariedly and unceasingly, until Russia is humbled at our feet. "
" Ah !" exclaimed the king, " the Khan of Tartary cannot hate the
Empress of Russia more vindictively than she hates me ; he need
466 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
not fear, therefore, an alliance between me and Russia. I have
myself no desire to form a friendship with those rough barbarians. "
"If the Empress of Russia hates you, she hates Krimgirai equally.
Russia hates every thing that is noble and true ; she hates enlighten-
ment and cultivation. Russia hates Krimgirai, because he has
civilized his people ; because he has changed his rough hordes of
men into a mighty army of brave warriors ; because he governs his
kingdom with humanity, and is, at the same time, a father to his
people and a scourge to his enemies. Krimgirai hates Russia as he
hates every thing that is wicked, and vicious, and cruel ; therefore
he is willing to stand by your side against Russia, with an army of
six thousand men, and, if you wish it, to invade Russia. "
"And what are the conditions which the Khan demands for this
assistance?"
" He wishes you to pay his soldiers as you pay your own. "
"And for himself?"
" For himself, he begs that you will send him a physician who
can cure him of a painful but not dangerous disease. Further, he
begs for your confidence and friendship. "
"Which I gladly give him!" said the king, gayly. "But tell
me one other thing. Has the Khan not yet become reconciled to
the Grand Sultan?"
"Sire, the sultan feels that he cannot spare his brave Khan ; he
made an overture, which Krimgirai gladly accepted. One week
before we started on our journey, the Khan was received by the
sultan in his seraglio. The heads of forty rebels were displayed as
a special honor in front of the seraglio, and, in the presence of the
sultan himself, my master was again presented with belt and sword,
and again reinstalled as Khan. The sultan also presented him with
a purse containing forty thousand ducats. You see, sire, that the
sultan prizes and acknowledges the virtues of your ally. "
"And how do we stand with the Porte?" asked the king, turning
to Baron von Rexin.
" I have succeeded, sire, in establishing a treaty between your
majesty and the Porte ! I shall have the honor to lay it before your
majesty for your signature. "
The king's eyes beamed with delight, as he exclaimed :
" At length I have attained the desired goal, and in spite of the
whole of Europe. I have my allies !"
Then turning once more to Mustapha Aga, he dismissed him for
the day, and gave him permission to occupy the magnificent tent
which had been presented to him by the Khan, during the remain-
der of his visit.
Mustapha Aga thea withdrew with his interpreter, leaving the
THE AMBASSADOR AND THE KHAN OF TARTARY. 467
king alone with the Baron von Rexin, who now presented to him the
papers which it was necessary he should sign, to establish the long-
desired alliance with Turkey. This treaty assured to Prussia all the
privileges which Turkey accorded to the other European powers : free
navigation, the rights of ambassadors and consuls, and the personal
liberty of any Prussian subjects who might have been seized as slaves.
The king signed the treaty, and named Baron von Rexin his
minister plenipotentiary, and commanded him to return with the
ambassador from Tartary and present the signed treaty to the Grand
Sultan.
"Now the struggle can begin anew," said Frederick, when he
was once more alone. "I will recommence with the new year ; I
will battle as I have already done ; I will consider nothing but my
honor and the glory of Prussia. I will not live to see the moment
when I will consent to a disgraceful peace. No representations, no
eloquence shall bring me to acknowledge my own shame. I will be
buried under the ruins of my native land, or if this consolation be
denied me by my unfortunate fate, I will know how to end my mis-
fortunes. Honor alone has led my footsteps, and I will follow no
other guide. I sacrificed my youth to my father, my manhood to
my country, and I have surely gained the right to dispose of my old
age. There are people who are docile and obedient toward fate. I
am not one of them. Having lived for others, I dare at least die
for myself, careless what the world may say. Nothing shall force
me to prefer a weak old age to death. I will dare all for the accom-
plishment of my plans ; they failing, I will die an honorable death.
But no! no!" said the king, smiling after a short pause. "I will
not indulge in such sad and despairing thoughts on the day which
has shown me the first ray of sunlight after so many storms. Per-
haps the year sixty -two will be more fortunate than the one just
passed. I stand no longer alone ; I have my friends and my allies.
Why should I care that the world calls them unbelievers? I have
seen Christians betray and murder one another. Perhaps unbe-
lievers are better Christians than believers. We will try them, at
least. When all deserted me, they offered me the hand of friend-
ship. This is the first sunbeam which has greeted me. Perhaps
bright days may now follow the storms. May God grant it !" *
* The king was not deceived. The Empress Elizabeth died in the commencement
of the year 1762. Her successor} Peter the Third, was a passionate admirer of
Frederick the Great, and he now became the ally of Prussia. The Empress Catha-
rine approved this change, and remained the ally of Prussia. France now withdrew
from the contest ; and in the year 1763, Austria, finding her treasury completely ex-
hausted, was compelled to make peace with Prussia. Prussia had no use for her
new ally of Tartary, and Krimgirai, who was already on the march, returned home
with his army. See " Memoires du Baron de Tott sur les Turcs et les Tartares."
BOOK VI.
CHAPTER I.
THE KINO'S RETURN.
BERLIN was glittering in festal adornment ! This was a great, a
joyous day ; the first gleam of sunshine, after many long years of
sorrow, suffering, and absolute want. For the last seven years the
king had been absent from his capital to-day he would return to
Berlin.
After seven years of bloody strife, the powers at Hubertsburg had
declared peace. No nation had enlarged its boundaries by this war.
Not one of the cities or fortresses of the King of Prussia had been
taken from him, and he was forced to content himself with his
former conquest. There had been no successful results ! Losses
only were to be calculated.
During these seven years, Russia had lost one hundred and eighty
thousand men, the French two hundred thousand, the Prussians a
hundred and twenty thousand, the English and confederate Germans
a hundred and sixty thousand, and the Saxons ninety thousand
lastly, the Swedes and the States sixty thousand. This seven years'
war cost Europe nearly a million of men. Their blood fertilized the
German soil, and their bones lay mouldering beneath her green
sods.
Throughout all Europe, weeping mothers, wives, and children
turned their sorrowful faces toward the land which had robbed them
of their dear loved ones ; they were even deprived the painfully
sweet consolation of weeping over these lonely and neglected graves.
Losses were not only to be counted in myriads of men, whose
blood had been shed in vain, but uncounted millions had been lav-
ished upon the useless strife.
During this war, the debt of England had increased to seventy
million pounds sterling ; the yearly interest on the debt was four
and a half million crowns. The Austrians calculated their debt at
five hundred million guldens ; France at two thousand million
livres ; Sweden was almost bankrupt, and unfortunate Saxony had
to pay to Prussia during the war over seven million crowns.
THE KING'S RETURN. 469
In the strict meaning of the term, Prussia had made no debt,
but she was, in fact, as much impoverished as her adversaries. The
Prussian money which was circulated during the war was worthless.
At the close of the war, all those who carried these promissory
notes shared the fate of the rich man in the fairy tale. The money
collected at night turned to ashes before morning. This was the
fatal fruit of the war which for seven years had scourged Europe.
Prussia, however, had reason to be satisfied and even grateful.
Although bleeding from a thousand wounds, exhausted and faint
unto death, she promised a speedy recovery ; she was full of youth-
ful power and energy had grown, morally, during this seven years'
struggle had become great under the pressure of hardship and self-
denial, and now ranked with the most powerful nations of
Europe.
To-day, however, suffering and destitution were forgotten ; only
smiling, joyous faces were seen in Berlin. The whole city seemed
to be invigorated by the golden rays of fortune ; no one appeared
to suffer, no one to mourn for the lost and yet amongst the ninety-
eight thousand inhabitants of Berlin, over thirty thousand received
alms weekly so that a third of the population were objects of
charity. To-day no one thirsted, no one was hungry ; all hearts
were merry, all faces glad !
They had not seen their great King Frederick for seven years ;
they would look upon him to-day. The royal family had arrived
from Magdeburg.
Every one hastened to the streets to see Frederick, who on his
departure had been but the hero-king of Prussia, but who now, on
his return, was the hero of all Europe whom all nations greeted
whose name was uttered in Tartary, in Africa, with wonder and
admiration yes, in all parts of the civilized and uncivilized world !
The streets were filled with laughing crowds ; all pressed toward
the Frankfort gate, where the king was to enter. The largest arch
of triumph was erected over this gate, and all other streets were
decorated somewhat in the same manner. Every eye was turned
toward this street; all were awaiting with loudly-beating hearts the
appearance of that hero whose brow was decked with so many costly
laurels. No heart was more impatient, no one gazed so eagerly at
the Frankfort gate as the good Marquis d'Argens ; he stood at the
head of the burghers, near the arch of triumph ; he had organized
the citizens for this festal reception ; he had left his cherished
retirement for love of his royal friend ; to welcome him, he had
ventured into the cutting wind of a cold March morning. For
Frederick's sake he had mounted a horse, a deed of daring he had
not ventured upon for many a year ; in his lively impatience, he
470 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
even forgot the danger of being run away with or dragged in the
dust.
The marquis knew well that nothing could be more disagreeable
to the king than this public reception, but his heart was overflow-
ing with hope and happiness, and he felt the necessity of shouting
his vivats in the sunny air. In the eogtism of his love, he forgot to
respect the preferences of the king.
Perhaps Frederick suspected this triumph which his good Ber-
liners had prepared for him. Perhaps it appeared to his acute sen-
sibilities and noble heart altogether inappropriate to welcome the
returned soldiers with wild shouts of joy, when so many thousand
loved ones were lying buried on the bloody battle-field. Perhaps he
did not wish to see Berlin, where his mother had so lately died,
adorned in festal array.
Hour after hour passed. The sun was setting. The flowers
which had been taken from the greenhouses to decorate the arch of
triumph, bowed their lovely heads sadly in the rough March winds.
The fresh, cool breeze whistled through the light draperies and dis-
placed their artistic folds. Notwithstanding the enthusiasm of the
citizens, they began to be hungry, and to long greatly for the con-
clusion of these solemnities. Still the king came not. The Berliners
waited awhile longer, and then one after another quietly withdrew.
This bad example was speedily imitated, and the gay cortege of
riders grew small by degrees and beautifully less. At sunset but a
few hundred citizens remained at the gate, and even these heroic
Spartans showed but little of the enthusiasm of the morning.
Marquis d'Argens was in despair, and if Frederick had arrived
at this moment he would have heard a reproachful phillipic from his
impatient friend instead of a hearty welcome. But fortune did not
favor him so far as to give him the opportunity to relieve his tem-
per. The king did not appear. The marquis at last proposed to the
citizens to get torches, and thus in spite of the darkness give to their
king a glittering reception. They agreed cheerfully, and the most
of them dashed off to the city to make the necessary preparations.
The streets were soon brilliantly lighted, and now in the dis-
tance the king's carriage was seen approaching. Throughout the
vast train shouts and vivats were heard, and the proud voices of this
happy people filled the air as with the thunder of artillery.
"Long life to the king ! Long life to Frederick the Great !"
The carriage came nearer and nearer, and now myriads of lights
danced around it. The citizens had returned witli their torches,
and the carriage of Frederick rolled on as if in a sea of fire. It drew
up at the arch of triumph. The king rose and turned his face
toward his people, who were shouting their glad welcome. The
THE KING'S RETURN. 471
light from the torches fell upon his countenance, and their red lustre
gave his cheek a fresh and youthful appearance.
His subjects saw once more his sparkling, speaking eye, in which
shone the same energy, the same imperial power, as in days gone
by. They saw the soft, sympathetic smile which played around his
eloquent lips they saw him, their king, their hero, and were glad.
They laughed and shouted with rapture. They stretched out their
arms as if to clasp in one universal embrace their dear-loved king,
who was so great, so beautiful, so far above them in his bright
radiance. They threw him fond kisses, and every utterance of his
name seemed a prayer to God for his happiness.
But one stood by the carriage who could not speak whose
silent, trembling lips were more eloquent than words. No language
could express the delight of D'Argent no words could paint the
emotion which moved his soul and filled his eyes with tears.
The king recognized him, and holding out his hand invited him
to take a seat in the carriage. Then giving one more gi-eeting to
his people, he said, " Onward onward to Charlottenburg. "
At a quick pace the carriage drove through Berlin. Those who
had not had the courage and strength to await the king at the
Frankfort gate, were now crowding the streets to welcome him.
Frederick did not raise himself again from the dark corner of
the carriage. He left it to the Duke of Brunswick to return the
salutations of the people. He remained motionless, and did not
even appear to hear the shouts of his subjects. Not once did he
raise his hand to greet them not a word passed his lips.
When they crossed the king's bridge and reached the castle
grounds, the people were assembled and closely crowded together.
Frederick now raised himself, but he did not see them he did not
regard the brilliantly illuminated houses, or the grounds sparkling
in a flood of light. He turned slowly and sadly toward the castle
his eye rested upon that dark, gloomy mass of stone, which arose to
the right, and contrasted mysteriously with the brilliant houses
around it. It looked like a monstrous coffin surrounded by death -
lights. Frederick gazed long and steadily at the castle. He raised
his head once more, but not to greet his subjects. He covered his
face he would not be looked at in his grief. D'Argens heard him
murmur, "My mother, oh my mother! Oh, my sister!"
The Prussians welcomed joyously the return of their great king,
but Frederick thought only at this moment of those who could never
return those whom death had torn from him forever. Onward,
onward through the lighted streets ! All the inhabitants of Berlin
seemed to be abroad. This was a Roman triumph, well calculated
to fill the heart of a sovereign with just pride.
472 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
The Berliners did not see that Frederick had no glance for them.
Gloom and despair veiled his countenance, and no one dreamed that
this king, whom they delighted to honor, was at this proud moment
a weeping son, a mourning brother.
At last the joyous, careless city lay behind them, and they ap-
proached Charlottenburg.
The noise and tumult gradually ceased, and a welcome quiet
ensued. Frederick did not utter one word, and no one dared to
break the oppressive silence. This triumphant procession seemed
changed to a burial-march. The victor in so many battles seemed
now mastered by his memories.
The carriage drew up at Charlottenburg. The wide court was
rilled with the inhabitants of the little city, who welcomed the king
as enthusiastically as the Berliners had done. Frederick saluted
them abruptly, and stepped quickly into the hall.
The castle had been changed into a temple of glory and beauty
in honor of the king's return. The pillars which supported it were
wound around with wreaths of lovely, fragrant blossoms ; costly
draperies, gay flags, and emblems adorned the walls ; the floors
were covered with rich Turkish carpets ; the gilded candelabras shed
their variegated lights in every direction, irradiating the faces of
the court cavaliers glittering with stars and orders, and the rich
toilets of the ladies. The effect was dazzling.
In the middle of the open space two ladies were standing, one in
royal attire, sparkling in diamonds and gold embroideries, the other
in mourning, with no ornament but pearls, the emblem of tears.
The one with a happy, hopeful face gazed at the king ; the other
with a sad, weary countenance, in which sickness, sorrow, and dis-
appointment had drawn their heavy lines, turned slowly toward
him ; her large eyes, red with weeping, were fixed upon him with
an angry, reproachful expression.
Frederick drawing near, recognized the queen and the Princess
Amelia. At the sight of this dearly-beloved face, the queen, for-
getting her usual timidity and assumed coldness, stepped eagerly
forward and offered both her hands to her husband. Her whole
heart, the long -suppressed fervor of her soul, spoke in her moist and
glowing eyes. Her lips, which had so long been silent, so long
guarded their sweet secret, expressed, though silently, fond words
of love. Elizabeth Christine was no longer young, no longer beauti-
ful ; she had passed through many years of suffering and inward
struggle, but at this moment she was lovely. The eternal youth of
the soul lighted her fair brow the flash of hope and happiness
glimmered in her eyes. But Frederick saw nothing of this. He
had no sympathy for this pale and gentle queen, now glowing with
THE KING'S RETURN. 473
vitality. He thought only of the dearly-loved queen and mother
who had gone down into the cold, dark grave. Frederick bowed
coldly to Elizabeth Christine, and took both her hands in his a short
moment.
"Madame," said he, "this is a sad moment. The queen my
mother is missing from your side. "
Elizabeth Christine started painfully, and the hands which the
king had released fell powerless to her side. Frederick's harsh,
cruel words had pierced her heart and quenched the tears of joy and
hope which stood in her eyes.
Elizabeth was incapable of reply. Princess Amelia came to her
relief.
"If my brother, the king, while greeting us after his long ab-
sence, is unconscious of our presence and sees only the faces of the
dead, he must also be forced to look upon my unhappy brother,
Prince Augustus William, who died of a broken heart. "
The king's piercing eyes rested a moment with a strangely mel-
ancholy expression upon the sorrowful, sickly face of the Princess
Amelia.
"Not so, my sister," said he, softly and gently; "I not only see
those who have been torn from us by death, I look upon and wel-
come gladly those who have been spared to me. I am happy to see
you here to-day, my sister. "
Frederick offered Amelia his hand, and bowing silently to those
who were present, he entered his apartment, followed only by the
Marquis d'Argens.
Frederick stepped rapidly through the first room, scarcely looking
at the new paintings which adorned the walls ; he entered his
study and threw a long, thoughtful glance around this dear room.
Every piece of furniture, every book, recalled charming memories
of the past every thing stood as he had left it seven years ago. He
now for the first time realized the joy of being again at home ; his
country had received him and embraced him with loving arms.
With glowing cheeks he turned toward the marquis, who was
leaning against the door behind him.
"Oh, D'Argens ! it is sweet to be again in one's own native land
the peace of home is sweet. The old furniture appears to welcome
me ; that old chair stretches its arms wooingly toward me, as if to
lure me to its bosom, and give me soft sleep and sweet dreams in
its embrace. Marquis, I feel a longing to gratify my old friend ; I
yield to its gentle, silent pleadings."
Frederick stepped to the arm-chair and sank into it with an ex-
pression of indescribable comfort.
" Ah, now I feel that I am indeed at home. "
31
474 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Allow me, "said D'Argens, "to say, your majesty, what the
dear old arm-chair, in spite of its eloquence, cannot express. I,
also, am a piece of the old furniture of this dear room, and in the
name of all my voiceless companions, I cry 'Welcome to my king !'
We welcome you to your country and your home. You return
greater even than when you left us. Your noble brow is adorned
with imperishable laurels ; your fame resounds throughout the earth,
and every nation sings to you a hymn of victory. "
" Well, well, " said Frederick, smilingly, " do not look too sharply
at my claims to such world-wide renown, or my fame will lose a
portion of its lustre. You will see that chance has done almost
every thing for me more than my own valor and wisdom, and the
bravery of my troops combined. Chance has been my best ally
during this entire war.* Chance enabled me to escape the famine
camp of Bunzelwitz chance gave me the victory over my enemies.
Speak no more of my fame, marquis, at least not in this sacred
room, where Cicero, Caesar, Lucretius, and Thucydides look down
upon us from the walls ; where the voiceless books with their gilded
letters announce to us that we are surrounded by great spirits.
Speak not of fame to me, D'Argens, when from yonder book-shelf I
see the name of Athalie. I would rather have written Athalie, than
to have all the fame arising from this seven years' war. " f
"Herein I recognize the peaceful, noble tastes of my king," said
D'Argens, deeply moved; "years of hardship and victory have not
changed him the conquering hero is the loving friend and the
wise philosopher. I knew this must be so I knew the heart of my
king ; I knew he would regard the day on which he gave peace to
his people as far more glorious than any day of bloody battle and
triumphant victory. The day of peace to Prussia is the most glori-
ous, the happiest day of her great king's life."
Frederick shook his head softly, and gazed with infinite sadness
at his friend's agitated countenance.
"Ah, D'Argens, believe me, the most beautiful, the happiest day
is that on which we take leave of life. "
As Frederick turned his eyes away from his friend, they fell
accidentally upon a porcelain vase which stood upon a table near
his secretary ; he sprang hastily from his chair.
"How came this vase here?" he said, in a trembling voice.
"Sire," said the marquis, "the queen-mother, shortly before her
death, ordered this vase to be placed in this room ; she prized it
highly it was a present from her royal brother, George II. Her
majesty wished that, on your return from the war, it might serve
* The king's own words.
tlbid.
THE KING'S RETURN. 475
as a remembrance of your fond mother. At her command, I placed
that packet of letters at the foot of the vase, after the queen -mother
had sealed and addressed it with her dying hand. "
Frederick was silent ; he bowed his head upon the vase, as if to
cool his burning brow upon its cold, glassy surface. He, perhaps,
wished also to conceal from his friend the tears which rolled slowly
down his cheeks, and fell upon the packet of letters lying before
him.
The king kissed the packet reverentially, and examined with a
deep sigh the trembling characters traced by the hand of his beloved
mother.
" For my son the king. "
Frederick read the address softly. " Alas ! my dear mother, how
poor you have made me. I am now no longer a son only a king !"
He bowed his head over the packet, and pressed his mother's
writing to his lips, then laid the letters at the foot of the vase and
remained standing thoughtfully before it.
A long pause ensued. Frederick stood with folded arms before
the vase, and the marquis leaned against the door behind him.
Suddenly the king turned to him.
" I beg a favor of you, marquis. Hasten to Berlin, and tell Benda
he must perform the Te Deum of my dear Graun here in the castle
chapel to-morrow morning at nine o'clock. I know the singers of
the chapel can execute it they gave it once after the battle of
Leignitz. Tell Benda to make no difficulties, for it is my express
wish to hear the music to-morrow morning. I trust to you, mar-
quis, to see my wish fulfilled, to make the impossible possible, if
you find it necessary. Call me capricious if you will, for desiring
to hear this music to-morrow. I have so long been controlled by
stern realities, that I will allow myself now to yield to a caprice. "
He gave his hand to the marquis, who pressed it to his lips.
"Sire, to-morrow morning at nine o'clock the Te Deum shall be
performed in the chapel, should I even be compelled to pass the
night in arousing the musicians from their beds. "
The marquis kept his word ; he surmounted all difficulties, re-
moved all objections. In vain Benda declared the organ in the
chapel was out of tune, the performance impossible ; the marquis
hastened to the organist and obliged him to put it in order that
night. In vain the singers protested against singing this difficult
music before the king without preparation ; D'Argens commanded
them in the name of the king to have a rehearsal during the night.
Thanks to his nervous energy and zeal, the singers assembled, and
Benda stood before his desk to direct this midnight concert.
When the clock struck nine the next morning every difficulty
476 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
had been set aside, and every preparation completed. The organist
was in his place, the organ in order ; the musicians tuned their in-
struments, the singers were prepared, and the chapel -master, Benda,
was in their midst, baton in hand.
All eyes were directed toward the door opposite the choir,
through which the court must enter ; all hearts were beating with
joyful expectation all were anxious to see the king once more in
the midst of his friends, in his family circle. Every one sympa-
thized in the queen's happiness at being accompanied once more by
her husband ; laying aside her loneliness and widowhood, and ap-
pearing in public by his side.
All eyes, as we have said, were impatiently directed toward the
door, waiting for the appearance of their majesties and the court.
Suddenly the door opened. Yes, there was the king. He stepped
forward very quietly, his head a little bowed down ; in the midst
of the solemn stillness of the chapel his step resounded loudly.
Yes, it was Frederick the Great, he was alone, accompanied by
no royal state, surrounded by no glittering crowd but it was the
king ; in the glory of his majesty, his endurance, and his valor,
radiant in the splendor of his heroic deeds and his great victories.
Frederick seated himself slowly, gave one quick glance at the
choir, and waved his hand to them. Benda raised his baton and
gave the sign to commence. And now a stream of rich harmony
floated through the chapel. The organ, with its powerful, majestic
tones; the trumpets, with their joyous greeting; the drums, with
their thunder, and the soft, melting tones of the violin and flute,
mingled together in sweet accord.
The king, with head erect and eager countenance, listened to
the beautiful and melodious introduction. He seemed to be all ear,
to have no other thought, no other passion than this music, which
was wholly unknown to him. And now, with a powerful accord,
the sweetly- attuned human voices joined in, and the choir sang in
melting unison the Te Deum Laudamus, which resounded solemnly,
grandly through the aisles. The king turned pale, and as the hymn
of praise became more full and rich, his head sank back and his
eyes were fixed upon the floor.
Louder and fuller rose the solemn tones ; suddenly, from the
midst of the choir, a soft, melting tenor sang in a sweet, touching
voice, Tuba minim spargeus sonum. Frederick's head sank still
lower upon his breast, and at last, no longer able to restrain his
tears, he covered his face with his hands.
The lofty strains of this solemn hymn resounded through the
empty church, which until now had been wrapped in gray clouds,
but in a moment the sun burst from behind the clouds, darted its
PRINCE HENRY. 477
rays through the windows, and lighted up the church with golden
glory. The king who, until now, had been in the shadow of the
cloud, was as if by magic bathed in a sea of light. All eyes were
fixed upon his bowed head, his face partially covered with his hands,
and the tears gushing from his eyes.
No one could withstand the silent power of this scene ; the eyes of
the singers filled with tears, and they could only continue their chant
in soft, broken, sobbing tones, but Benda was not angry ; he dared
not look at them, lest they might see that his own stern eyes were
veiled in tears.
Frederick seemed more and more absorbed in himself lost in
painful memories. But the loud hosannas resounded and awakened
him from his slumber ; he dared no longer give himself up to brood-
ing. He arose slowly from his seat, and silent and alone, even as
he had entered, he left the church.
CHAPTER II.
PRINCE HENRY.
SEVEN years had passed since Prince Henry had left his wife, to
fight with his brother against his enemies. During these long years
of strife and contest, neither the king nor the prince had returned
to Berlin. Like the king, he also had won for himself fame and
glory upon the battle-field. Much more fortunate than his brother,
he had won many victories, and had not sustained a single defeat
with his army corps. More successful in all his undertakings than
Frederick, perhaps also more deliberate and careful, he had always
chosen the right hour to attack the enemy, and was always prepared
for any movement. His thoughtfulness and energy had more than
once released the king from some disagreeable or dangerous position.
To the masterly manner in which Prince Henry managed to unite
his forces with those of his brother after the battle of Kiinersdorf ,
the king owed his escape from the enemies which then surrounded
him. And to the great and glorious victory gained by Prince
Henry over the troops of the empire and of Austria at Freiberg, the
present happy peace was to be attributed. This battle had subdued
the courage of the Austrians, and had filled the generals of the troops
of the empire with such terror, that they declared at once their un-
willingness to continue the war, and their determination to return
with their forces to their different countries.
The battle of Freiberg was the last battle of the Seven Years'
War. It brought to Prince Henry such laurels as the king had
478 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
gained at Leignitz and Torgau ; it placed him at his brother's side
as an equal. Frederick saw it without envy or bitterness, and re-
joiced in the fulness of his great soul, in his brother's fame. When
he found himself, for the first time after the Seven Years' War, sur-
rounded at Berlin by the princes and generals, he advanced with
a cordial smile to his brother, and laying his hand gently on his
houlder, said aloud :
"You see here, sirs, the only one amongst us all who did not
commit a single mistake during the war !"
Seven years had passed since Prince Henry had seen his young
wife, Princess Wilhelmina. He could at last return to her to his
beloved Rheinsberg, and find rest after his many years of wander-
ing. He had written to the princess, and requested her not to meet
him in Berlin, but to find some pretext for remaining at Rheins-
berg. His proud soul could not endure the thought that the woman
he loved, who appeared to him fit to grace the first throne of the
world, would occupy an inferior position at court would have to
stand behind the queen. He had never envied the king his crown
or his position, but his heart now craved the crown of the queen,
for the brow of his own beautiful wife, who seemed much better
fitted to wear it than the gentle, timid Elizabeth Christine. Prin-
cess Wilhelmina had therefore remained at Rheinsberg, feigning
sickness.
It was night ! The castle of Rheinsberg glittered with the light
of the torches by which the gates were adorned, to welcome the
prince to his home. The saloons and halls were brilliantly lighted,
and in them a gay, merry crowd was assembled. All the prince's
friends and acquaintances had been invited by Princess Wilhelmina
to greet his return.
Every thing in the castle bore the appearance of happiness all
seemed gay and cheerful. But still, there was one whose heart was
beating anxiously at the thought of the approaching hour it was
the Princess Wilhelmina. She was gorgeously dressed ; diamonds
glittered on her brow and throat, bright roses gleamed upon her
breast, and a smile was on her full, red lips. No one knew the
agony this smile cost her ! No one knew that the red which burned
upon her cheek was caused, not by joy, but terror !
Yes, terror ! She was afraid of this meeting, in which she was
to receive the prince as her loved husband, while, during the long
years of absence, he had become a perfect stranger to her. Not even
bound to him by the daily occurrences of life, she had no sympathies
with the husband who had been forced upon her, and who had once
contemptuously put aside the timid heart that was then prepared to
love him. This stranger she was now to meet with every sign of
PRINCE HENRY. 479
love, because he had one day waked up to the conviction that the
heart he had once spurned was worthy of him. It was her duty
now to return this love to consecrate the rich treasures of her heart
to him who had once scorned them. Her soul rose in arms at this
thought like an insulted lioness, and she felt some of that burning
hatred that the lioness feels for her master who wishes to tame her
with an iron rod. The prince was to her but her master, who had
bound and held her heart in irons, to keep it from escaping from
him.
During these seven long years, she had experienced all the free-
dom and happiness of girlhood ; her heart had beat with a power, a
fire condemned by the princess herself, but which she was incapable
of extinguishing.
Trembling and restless, she wandered through the rooms, smil-
ing when she would have given worlds to have shrieked out her
pain, her agony ; decked in splendid garments, when she would
gladly have been in her shroud. Every sound, every step, filled her
with terror, for it might announce the arrival of her husband, whom
she must welcome with hypocritical love and joy. Could she but
show him her scorn, her hatred, her indifference ! But the laws of
etiquette held her in their stern bonds and would not release her.
She was a princess, and could not escape from the painful restraints
of her position. She had not the courage to do so. At times in her
day-dreams, she longed to leave all the cold, deceitful glare, by
which she was surrounded to go to some far -distant valley, and
there to live alone and unknown, by the side of her lover, where no
etiquette would disturb their happiness where she would be free as
the birds of the air, as careless as the flowers of the field. But these
wild dreams vanished when the cold, cruel reality appeared to her.
By the side of the once-loving woman stood again the princess, who
could not surrender the splendor and magnificence by which she was
surrounded. She had not the courage nor the wish to descend from
her height to the daily life of common mortals. There was dissen-
sion in her soul between the high-born princess and the loving,
passionate woman. She was capable of making any and every sac-
rifice for her love, but she had never openly confessed this love, and
even in her wildest dreams she had never thought of changing her
noble name and position for those of her lover. She could have fled
with him to some distant valley, but would she be happy? Would
she not regret her former life? Princess Wilhelrniua felt the dis-
sension in her soul, and therefore she trembled at the thought of IHT
husband's return. This meeting would decide her whole future.
Perhaps she could still be saved. The prince, returning covered
with fame and crowned with laurels, might now win her love, and
480 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
drive from her heart every other thought. But if he cannot win it
if his return is not sufficient to loosen the chains which bind her
then she was lost then she could not resist the intoxicating whis-
pers luring her to ruin.
These were Princess Wilhelmina's thoughts as she leaned against
a window of the brilliant ball-room, the protection of whose heavy
curtains she had sought to drive for a moment from her face the gay
smile and to breathe out the sighs that were almost rending her
heart. She was gazing at the dark night without at the bright,
starry sky above. Her lips moved in a low prayer her timid soul
turned to God with its fears.
"O God, my God!" murmured she, "stand by me. Take from
me the sinful thoughts that fill my heart. Make me to love my
husband. Keep my soul free from shame and sin. "
Hasty steps, loud, merry voices from the hall, disturbed her
dreams. She left her retreat, meeting everywhere gay smiles and
joyous faces. At the door stood the prince her husband. He ad-
vanced eagerly to her side, and ignoring etiquette and the gay
assemblage alike he pressed the princess to his heart and kissed her
on both cheeks.
Wilhelmina drew from him in deadly terror, and a burning
anger filled her heart. Had she loved the prince, this public dem-
onstration of his tenderness would perhaps have pleased and surely
been forgiven by her. As it was, she took his embrace and kisses
as an insult, which was only to be endured by compulsion for
which she would surely revenge herself.
Prince Henry was so joyous, so happy at meeting his wife once
more, that he did not notice her embarrassed silence, her stiff
haughtiness, and thought she shared his joy, his delight.
This confidence seemed to the princess presumptuous and humili-
ating. She confessed to herself that the prince's manners were not
in the least improved by his long campaign that they were some-
what brusque. He took her hand tenderly ; leading her to a divan,
and seated himself beside her, but suddenly jumping up he left her,
and returned in a few moments with his friend Count Kalkreuth.
"Permit me, Wilhelmina, " said he, "to introduce to you again
my dear friend and companion in arms. Men say I have won some
fame, but I assure you that if it is true, Kalkreuth deserves the
largest share, for he was the gardener who tended my laurels with
wise and prudent hands. I commend him, therefore, to your kind-
ness and friendship, Wilhelmina, and beg you to evince for him a
part of that affection you owe to me, and which causes my happi-
ness. "
There was something so noble, so open, and knightly in the
PRINCE HENRY. 481
prince's manner, that Count Kalkreuth, deeply touched, thought in
his heart for a moment that he would not deceive this noble friend
with treachery and faithlessness.
The prince's words had a different effect upon the princess. In-
stead of being touched by his great confidence in her, she was in-
sulted. It indicated great arrogance and self-conceit to be so sure
of her love as to see no danger, but to bring his friend to her and
commend him to her kindness. It humiliated her for the prince to
speak with such confidence of her affection as of a thing impossible
to lose. She determined, therefore, to punish him. With a bright
smile, she held out her hand to the count, and said to him a few
kind words of welcome. How she had trembled at the thought of
this meeting how she had blushed at the thought of standing be-
side the count with the conviction that not one of her words was
forgotten that the confession of love she had made to the departing
soldier belonged now to the returned nobleman ! But her husband's
confidence had shorn the meeting of all its terror, and made the
road she had to travel easy.
The count bowed deeply before her and pressed her hand to his
lips. She returned the pressure of his hand, and, as he raised his
head and fixed an almost imploring glance upon her, he encountered
her eyes beaming with unutterable love.
The court assembly stood in groups, looking with cold, inquisi-
tive eyes at the piquant scene the prince in the innocence of his
heart had prepared for them which was to them an inimitable jest,
an excellent amusement. They all knew what the prince did not
for a moment suspect that Count Kalkreuth adored the princess.
They now desired to see if this love was returned by the princess,
or suffered by her as a coquette.
None had gazed at this scene with such breathless sympathy,
such cruel joy, as Madame du Trouffle. Being one of the usual
circle at Rheinsberg, she had been invited by the princess to the
present f&te, and it seemed to her very amusing to receive her own
husband, not at their home, but at the castle of her former lover.
Major du Trouffle was on the prince's staff, and had accompanied
him to Rheinsberg.
Louise had not as yet found time to greet her husband. Her
glance was fixed eagerly upon the princess ; she noticed her every
movement, her every look ; she watched every smile, every quiver
of her lip. Her husband stood at her side he had been there for
some time, greeting her in low, tender words but Louise did not
attend to him. She seemed not to see him ; her whole soul was in
her eyes, and they were occupied with the princess. Suddenly she
turns her sparkling eyes upon her husband and murmurs : " He is
482 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
lost ! His laurels will be insufficient to cover the brand which from
to-day on will glow upon his brow !" Her husband looked at her in
amazement.
" Is this your welcome, after seven long years of absence, Louise?"
said he, sadly.
She laid her hand hastily upon his arm, saying, "Hush, hush!"
Once more she gazed at the princess, who was talking and laughing
gayly with her husband and Count Kalkreuth. " How her cheeks
glow, and what tender glances she throws him !" murmured Louise.
" Ah ! the prince has fallen a victim to his ingenuousness ! Verily,
he is again praising the merits of his friend. He tells her how Kal-
kreuth saved his life how he received the blow meant for his own
head. Poor prince ! You will pay dearly for the wound Kalkreuth
received for you. I said, and I repeat it he is lost !"
Her husband looked at her as if he feared she had gone mad dur-
ing his absence. "Of whom do you speak, Louise?" whispered he.
"What do you mean? Will you not speak one word of welcome
to me to convince me that you know me that I have not become a
stranger to you?"
The princess now arose from her seat, and leaning on her hus-
band's arm she passed through the room, talking merrily with
Count Kalkreuth at her side.
" They have gone to the conservatory, " said Louise, grasping her
husband's arm. "We will also go and find some quiet, deserted
place where we can talk undisturbed. "
CHAPTER III.
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.
LOUISE DU TROUFFLE drew her husband onward, and they both
followed silently the great crowd which was now entering the splen-
didly illuminated conservatories. The view offered to the eye was
superb. You seemed to be suddenly transplanted as if by magic
from the stiff, ceremonious court-saloons into the fresh, fragrant,
blooming world of nature. You breathed with rapture the odor of
those rare and lovely flowers which were arranged in picturesque
order between the evergreen myrtles and oranges. The windows,
and indeed the ceiling were entirely covered with vines, and seemed
to give color to the illusion that you were really walking in an open
alley. Colored Chinese balloons attached to fine chains, fell from
the ceiling, and seemed to float like gay butterflies between the trees
and flowers. They threw their soft, faint, many-colored lights
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 483
through these enchanting halls, on each side of which little grottoes
had been formed by twining together myrtles, palms, and fragrant
bushes. Each one of these held a little grass-plot, or green divan,
and these were so arranged that the branches of the palms were bent
down over the seats, and concealed those who rested there behind
a leafy screen.
To one of these grottoes Louise now led her husband. " We will
rest here awhile," said she. "This grotto has one advantage it
lies at the corner of the wall and has but one open side, and leafy
bushes are thickly grouped about it. We have no listeners to fear,
and may chat together frankly and harmlessly. And now, first of
all, welcome, my husband welcome to your home !"
" God be thanked, Louise God be thanked that you have at last
known how to speak one earnest word, and welcome me to your
side ! Believe me, when I say that through all these weary years,
each day I have rejoiced at the thought of this moment. It has been
my refreshment and my consolation. I truly believe that the
thought of you and my ardent desire to see you was a talismnn
which kept death afar off. It seemed to me impossible to die with-
out seeing you once more. I had a firm conviction that I would
live through the war and return to you. Thus I defied the balls of
the enemy, and have returned to repose on your heart, my beloved
wife after the storms and hardships of battle to fold you fondly in
my arms and never again to leave you. " He threw his arms around
her waist, and pressed his lips with a tender kiss upon her
mouth.
Louise suffered this display of tenderness for one moment, then
slipped lightly under his arms and retreated a few steps.
" Do you know, " said she, with a low laugh, " that was a true,
respectable husband's kiss ; without energy and without fire ; not
too cold, not too warm the tepid, lukewarm tenderness of a hus-
band who really loves his wife, and might be infatuated about her,
if she had not the misfortune to be his wife?"
" Ah ! you are still the old Louise, " said the major merrily ; " still
the gay, coquettish, unsteady butterfly, who, with its bright, varie-
gated wings, knows how to escape, even when fairly caught in the
toils. I love you just as you are, Ixmise ; I rejoice to find you just
what I left you. Yo i will make me young again, child ; by your
side I will learn again to laugh and be happy. We have lost the
power to do either amidst the fatigues and hardships of our rude
campaigns. "
"Yes, yes," said Louise; "we dismissed you, handsome, well-
formed cavaliers, and you return to us clumsy, growling bears:
good-humored but savage pets, rather too willing to learn again to
484 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
dance and sing. The only question is, will the women consent to
become bear-leaders, and teach the uncultivated pets their steps?"
" Well, they will be obliged to do this, " said the major, laugh-
ing. " It is their duty. "
" Dear friend, if you begin already to remind us of our duty, I
fear your cause is wholly lost. Come, let us sit here awhile upon
this grass-plot and talk together."
" Yes, you will be seated, but I do not see exactly why we should
talk together. I would much rather close your laughing, rosy lips
with kisses. " He drew her to his side, and "was about to carry out
this purpose, but Louise waved him off.
" If you do not sit perfectly quiet by my side, " said she, " I will
unfold the gay wings, of which you have just spoken, and fly far
away !"
" Well, then, I will sit quietly ; but may I not be permitted to
ask my shy prudish mistress why I must do so?"
"Why? Well, because I wish to give my savage pet his first
lecture after his return. The lecture begins thus : When a man re-
mains absent from his wife seven years, he has no right to return
as a calm, confident, self-assured husband, with his portion of home-
baked tenderness ; he should come timidly, as a tender, attentive,
enamoured cavalier, who woos his mistress and draws near to her
humbly, tremblingly, and submissively not looking upon her as his
wife, but as the fair lady whose love he may hope to win."
" But why, Louise, should we take refuge in such dissimulation,
when we are assured of your love?"
" You are assured of nothing ! How can you be so artless as to
believe that these seven years have passed by and left no trace, and
that we feel exactly to-day as we did before this fearful war?
When you have opened the door and given liberty to the bird whose
wings you have cut, and whose wild heart you have tamed in a
cage : when the captive flies out into the fresh, free air of God,
floats merrily along in the midst of rejoicing, laughing Nature
will he, after years have passed, will he, if you shall please to wish
once more to imprison him, return willingly to his cage? I believe
you would have to entice him a long time to whisper soft, loving,
flattering words, and place in the cage the rarest dainties before you
could induce him to yield up his golden freedom, and to receive you
once more as his lord and master. But if you seek to arrest him
with railing and threats with wise and grave essays on duty and
constancy he will swing himself on the lofty branch of a tree, so
high that you cannot follow, and whistle at you !"
" You are right, I believe, " said Du Trouffle, thoughtfully. " I see
to-day a new talent in you, Louise ; you have become a philosopher. "
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 485
"Yes, and I thirst to bring my wisdom to bear against a man,"
said Louise, laughingly. " I hope you will profit by it ! Perhaps it
may promote your happiness, and enable you to recapture your
bird. You will not at least make shipwreck on the breakers against
which the good prince dashed his head to-day ; he was wounded and
bleeding, and will carry the mark upon his brow as long as he
lives."
"What has he done which justifies so melancholy a prognosti-
cation?"
" What has he done? He returned to his wife, not as a lover but
as a husband ; he did not kiss her hand tremblingly and humbly
and timidly seek to read in her glance if she were inclined to favor
him ; he advanced with the assurance of a conquering hero, and be-
fore the whole world he gave her a loud, ringing kiss, which re-
sounded like the trump of victory. The good prince thought that
because the outside war was at an end and you had made peace with
your enemies, all other strifes and difficulties had ceased, and you
had all entered upon an epoch of everlasting happiness ; that, by the
sides of your fond and faithful wives, you had nothing to do but
smoke the calumet of peace. But he made a great and dangerous
mistake, and he will suffer for it. I tell you, friend, the war which
you have just closed was less difficult, less alarming than the strife
which will now be carried on in your families. The wicked foe
has abandoned the battle-field to you, but he is crouched down upon
your hearths and awaits you at the sides of your wives and daugh-
ters."
" Truly, Louise, your words, make me shudder ! and my heart,
which was beating so joyfully, seems now to stand still. "
Louise paid no attention to his words, but went on :
"You say the war is at an end. I believe it has just begun. It
will be carried on fiercely in every house, in every family ; many
hearts will break, many wounds be given, and many tears be shed
before we shall have household peace. All those fond ties which
united men and women, parents and children, have been shaken, or
torn apart ; all contracts are destroyed or undermined. In order to
endure, to live through these fearful seven years, every one gave
himself up to frivolity the terrible consequence is, that the whole
world has become light-minded and frivolous. We do not look
upon life with the same eyes as formerly. To enjoy the present
moment to snatch that chance of happiness from the fleeting hour,
which the next hour is chasing and may utterly destroy seems the
only aim. Love is an amusement, constancy a phantom, in which
no one believes which is only spoken of in nursery fairy tales.
The women have learned, by experience, that their husbands and
486 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
lovers did not die of longing to see them ; that they themselves,
after the tears of separation, which perhaps flowed freely a long
time, were once quenched, could live on alone ; that independence
had its bright side and was both agreeable and comfortable. The
history of the widow of Ephesus is repeated every day, my friend.
The women wept and were melancholy a long time after the separa
tion from their husbands, but at last they could not close their ears
to the sweet, soft words of consolation which were whispered to
them ; at last they realized that incessant weeping and mourning
had its wearisome and monotonous side, that the dreary time flew
more swiftly if they sought to amuse themselves and be happy.
They allowed themselves to be comforted, in the absence of their
husbands, by their lovers, and they felt no reproach of conscience ;
for they were convinced that their truant husbands were doing the
same thing in their long separation were making love to 'the lips
that were near.'"
" Did you think and act thus, Louise ?" said Major du Trouffle, in
a sad and anxious tone, looking his wife firmly in the eye.
Louisa laughed with calm and unconcern.
"My friend, " said she, "would I have told all this to you, if I
had committed the faults I charge upon others? I have been inac-
tive but observant ; that lias been my amusement, my only distrac-
tion, and my observations have filled me with amazement and
abhorrence. I have drawn from these sources profound and philo-
sophic lessons. I have studied mankind, and with full conviction I
can assure you the war is not at an end, and, instead of the palm of
peace, the apple of discord will flourish. Men no longer believe in
constancy or honesty, every man suspects his neighbor and holds
him guilty, even as he knows himself to be guilty. Every woman
watches the conduct of other women with malicious curiosity ; she
seems to herself less guilty when she finds that others are no better
than herself ; and when, unhappily, she does not find that her friend
is false or faithless, she will try to make her appear so ; if the truth
will not serve her purpose, she will, by slander and scandal, draw
a veil over her own sins. Never was there as much treachery and
crime as now'. Calumny stands before every door, and will whisper
such evil and fearful things in the ears of every returned soldier,
that he will become wild with rage, and distrust his wife, no matter
how innocent she may be. "
" I shall not be guilty of this fault, " said Major du Trouffle. " If
I find slander lying in wait at my door, I will kick it from me and
enter my home calmly and smilingly, without having listened to
her whispers, or, if I have heard them involuntarily, without be-
lieving them."
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 487
"Then there will be at least one house in Berlin where peace will
reign," said Louise, sweetly, "and that house will be ours. I wel-
come you in the name of our lares, who have been long joyfully
awaiting you. I have also an agreeable surprise for you. "
" What surprise, Louise?"
" You often told me that my daughter Camilla disturbed your
happiness, that she stood like a dark cloud over my past, which had
not belonged to you. "
" It is true ! I could not force my heart to love her ; her presence
reminded me always that you had been loved by another, had be-
longed to another, and had been made thoroughly wretched. "
" Well then, friend, this cloud has been lifted up, and this is the
surprise which awaited your return home. Camilla has been mar-
ried more than a year. "
" Married!" cried the major, joyfully; "who is the happy man
that has undertaken to tame this wilful child, and warm her cold
heart?"
"Ask rather, who is the unhappy man who was enamoured with
this lovely face, and has taken a demon for an angel?" sighed
Louise. " He is a young, distinguished, and wealthy Englishman,
Lord Elliot, an attache of the English embassy, who fulfilled the
duties of minister during the absence of the ambassador, Lord
Mitchel, who was generally at the headquarters of the king. "
"And Camilla, did she love him?"
Louise shrugged her shoulders.
" When he made his proposals, she declared herself ready to marry
him ; but, I believe, his presence was less agreeable and interesting
to her than the splendid gifts he daily brought her. "
"But, Louise, it was her free choice to marry him? You did not
persuade her? you did not, I hope, in order to humor my weakness,
induce her by entreaties and representations to marry against her
will?"
"My friend," said Louise, with the proud air of an injured
mother, " however fondly I may have loved you, I would not have
sacrificed for you the happiness of an only child. Camilla asked
my consent to her marriage after she had obtained her father's per-
mission, and I gave it. The marriage took place three days afte*
the engagement, and the young pair made a bridal-trip to England,
from which they returned a few months since. "
" And where are they now ?"
" They live in Berlin in an enchanting villa, which Lord Elliot
has converted into a palace for his young wife. You will see them
this evening, for they are both here, and "
Louise ceased to speak ; a well-known voice interrupted the
488 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
silence, and drew nearer and nearer. " Ah, " whispered she, lightly,
" the proverb is fulfilled, ' Speak of the wolf, and he appears. ' That
is Lord Elliot and Camilla speaking with such animation. Let us
listen awhile. "
The youthful pair had now drawn near, and stood just before the
grotto.
"I find it cruel, very cruel, to deny me every innocent pleasure,"
said Camilla, with a harsh, displeased voice. " I must live like a
nun who has taken an eternal vow ; I am weary of it. "
" Oh, my Camilla, you slander yourself when you say this ; you
are not well, and you must be prudent. I know you better than you
know yourself, my Camilla. Your heart, which is clear and trans-
parent as crystal, lies ever unveiled before me, and I listen with
devout love to its every pulse. I am sure that you do not wish to
dance to-day, my love. "
"I wish to dance, and I will dance, because it gives me pleasure. "
" Because you are like a sweet child and like the angels, " said
Lord Elliot, eagerly; "your heart is gay and innocent. You are
like a fluttering Cupid, sleeping in flower-cups and dreaming of
stars and golden sunshine ; you know nothing of earthly and pro-
saic thoughts. I must bind your wings, rny beauteous butterfly,
and hold you down in the dust of this poor, pitiful world. Wait,
only wait till you are well ; when your health is restored, you shall
be richly repaid for all your present self-denial. Every day I will
procure you new pleasures, prepare you new fetes; you shall dance
upon carpets of roses like an elfin queen. "
"You promise me that?" said Camilla; "you promise me that
you will not prevent my dancing as much and as gayly as I like ?"
"I promise you all this, Camilla, if you will only not dance
now. "
" Well, " sighed she, " I agree to this ; but I fear that my cousin,
Count Kindar, will be seriously displeased if I suddenly refuse him
the dance I promised him. "
"He will excuse you, sweetheart, when I beg him to do so,"
said Lord Elliot, with a soft smile. " I will seek him at once, and
make your excuses. Be kind enough to wait for me here, I will
return immediately. " He kissed her fondly upon the brow, and
hastened off.
Camilla looked after him and sighed deeply; then, drawing
back the long leaves of the palm, she entered the grotto ; she stepped
hastily back when she saw that the green divan was occupied, and
tried to withdraw, but her mother held her and greeted her kindly.
Camilla laughed aloud. "Ah, mother, it appears as if I am to
be ever in your way ; although I no longer dwell in your house I
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 489
still disturb your pleasures. But I am discreet ; let your friend
withdraw ; I will not see him ; I will not know his name, and when
my most virtuous husband returns, he will find only two modest
gentlewomen. Go, sir ; I will turn away, that I may not see you. "
" I rather entreat you, my dear Camilla, to turn your lovely face
toward me, and to greet me kindly, " said Major du Trouffle, step-
ping from behind the shadow of the palm, and giving his hand to
Camilla.
She gazed at him questioningly, and when at last she recognized
him, she burst out into a merry peal of laughter. "Truly," said
she, "my mother had a rendezvous with her husband, and I have
disturbed an enchanting marriage chirping. You have also listened
to my married chirp, and know all my secrets. Well, what do you
say, dear stepfather, to my mother having brought me so soon under
the coif, and made her wild, foolish little Camilla the wife of a
lord?"
" I wish you happiness with my whole soul, dear Camilla, and
rejoice to hear from your mother that you have made so excellent a
choice, and are the wife of so amiable and intellectual a man. "
"So, does mamma say that Lord Elliot is all that? She may be
right, I don't understand these things. I know only that I find his
lordship unspeakably wearisome, that I do not understand a word of
his intellectual essays, though my lord declares that I know every
thing, that I understand every thing, and have a most profound in-
tellect. Ah, dear stepfather, it is a terrible misfortune to be so
adored and worshipped as I am ; I am supposed to be an angel, who
by some rare accident has fallen upon the earth. "
"Truly a misfortune, for which all other women would envy
you, " said the major, laughing.
" Then they would make a great mistake, " sighed Camilla. " I
for my part am weary of this homage ; I have no desire to be, I will
ndt consent to be an angel ; I wish only to be a beautiful, rich young
woman and to enjoy my life. Do what I will, my husband looks at
every act of folly from an ideal stand-point, and finds thus new
material for worship ; he will force me at last to some wild, insane
act in order to convince him that I am no angel, but a weak child
of earth. "
" You were almost in the act of committing such a folly this even-
ing, " said her mother, sternly.
" Ah, you mean that I wished to dance. But only think, mamma,
with whom I wished to dance, with my cousin, whom all the world
calls 'the handsome Kindar, ' and who dances so gloriously, that it
is a delight to see him, and bliss to float about with him. He only
returned this evening, and he came at once to me and greeted me so
32
490 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
lovingly, so tenderly ; you know, mamma, we have always loved
each other fondly. When I told him I was married, he turned pale
and looked at me so sorrowfully, and tears were in his eyes. Oh,
mamma, why was I obliged to wed Lord Elliot, who is so grave, so
wise, so learned, so virtuous, and with whom it is ever wearisome?
Why did you not let me wait till Kindar returned, who is so hand-
some, so gay, so ignorant, before whom I should never have been
forced to blush, no matter how foolish I had been, and with whom
I should never have been weary?"
" But how did you know that the handsome Kindar wished to
marry you?" said Louise, laughing.
" Oh, yes, mamma, I knew it well ; he has often told me so, even
when I was a little girl and he was a cadet. This dreadful war is
the cause of all my misery ; it led to his promotion, then he must
join his regiment ; then, alas ! I must marry another before his
return. "
" Yes, but a noble, intellectual, and honorable cavalier, who does
honor to your choice, " said Du Trouffle.
" Lord Elliot has red hair, squints with both eyes, and is so long
and meagre that he looks more like an exclamation-point than a
man. When he appears before me in his yellow-gray riding cos-
tume, I am always reminded of the great windspeil you gave me
once, stepfather, who had such long, high legs, I used to creep under
them ; and when he lies like a windspeil at my feet, and squints at
me, his eyes seem tied up in knots, and I never know if he is really
looking at me, or is about to fall into a swoon. Now, stepfather,
do you not find that Lord Elliot does honor to my taste ?"
" Certainly, and all the more because your choice proves that you
appreciate the true dignity and beauty of a man, and his outward
appearance seems to you comparatively insignificant."
" Alas, alas ! now you begin also to attribute noble and exalted
motives to me," said Camilla pathetically. "No, no, stepfather, I
am not so sublime as you think, and I should not have married
Lord Elliot if mamma and myself had not both indulged the ardent
wish to be released from each other. Mamma is too young and too
beautiful to be willing to have a grown-up daughter who is not ugly
by her side, and I was too old to be locked up any longer in the
nursery, so I stepped literally from the nursery to the altar, and
became the wife of Lord Elliot ; so mamma and myself were freed
from the presence of each other, and I thought that a time of joy
and liberty would bloom for me. But, alas, I have only changed
my cage ; formerly I was confined in a nursery, now my prison is a
temple, because my husband says I am too elevated, too angelic to
some in contact with the pitiful world. Ah, I long so for the world ;
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 491
I am so thirsty for its pleasures, I would so gladly take full draughts
of joy from its golden cup ! My husband comes and offers me a
crystal shell, filled with heavenly dew and ether dust, which is, I
suppose, angels' food, but he does not remark that I am hungering
and thirsting to death. Like King Midas, before whose thirsty lips
every thing turned to gold, and who was starving in the midst of
all his glory, I beseech you, stepfather, undertake the role of the
barber, bore a hole and cry out in it that I have ass's ears ears as
long as those of King Midas. Perhaps the rushes would grow again
and make known to my lord the simple fact, which up to this time
he refuses to believe, that I am indeed no angel, and he would cease
to worship me, and allow me to be gay and happy upon the earth
like every other woman. But come, come, stepfather, I hear the
earnest voice of my husband in conversation with my merry, hand-
some cousin. Let us go to meet them, and grant me the pleasure of
introducing Lord Elliot to you not here, but in the brilliantly-
lighted saloon. Afterward I will ask you, on your word of honor,
if you still find I have made a happy choice, and if my windspeil of
a husband is of more value than my handsome cousin?"
She took the arm of the major with a gay smile, and tried to
draw him forward.
"But your mother," said Du Trouffle, "you forget your mother?"
" Listen now, mamma, how cruel he is, always reminding you
that you are my mother ; that is as much as to say to you, in other
words, that you will soon be a grandmother. Mamma, I could die
of laughter to think of you as a grandmother. I assure you, mam-
ma, that in the midst of all my sorrows and disappointments this
thought is the only thing which diverts and delights me. Only
think, I shall soon make you a worthy grandmother. Say now,
grandmother, will you come with us?"
" No, I will remain here, your gayety has made me sad I do not
feel fit for society. I will await my husband here, and we will
return to Berlin. "
"Adieu, then, mamma," said Camilla, rapidly drawing the
major onward.
Louise du Trouffle remained alone in the grotto ; she leaned her
head against the palm-tree, and looked sorrowfully after the retreat-
ing form of her daughter. It seemed to her that a shudder passed
through her soul ; that a cold, dead hand was laid upon her heart,
as if a phantom pressed against her, and a voice whispered . " This
is thy work. Oh, mother worthy of execration, you alone have
caused the destruction of your daughter ; through you that soul is
lost, which God intrusted to you, and which was endowed with the
germ of great and noble qualities. It was your duty to nourish and
492 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
build them up. God will one day call you to account, and ask this
precious soul of you, which you have poisoned by your evil exam
pie, which is lost lost through you alone. "
Louise shuddered fearfully, then rousing herself she tried to shake
0ff these fearful thoughts, and free herself from the stern voices
which mastered her. They had so often spoken, so of ten awaked her
in the middle of the night, driven sleep from her couch, and tortured
her conscience with bitter reproaches 1
Louise knew well this gray phantom which was ever behind her
or at her side ; ever staring at her with dark and deadly earnestness,
even in the midst of her mirth and joyousness ; the harsh voice was
often so loud that Louise was bewildered by it, and could not hear
the ring of joy and rapture which surrounded her. She knew that
this pale spectre was conscience ; press it down as she would, the
busy devil was ever mounting, mounting. But she would not listen,
she rushed madly on after new distractions, new pleasures, she
quenched the warning voice under shouts of mirth and levity ; she
threw herself in the arms of folly and worldly pleasures, and then
for long months she escaped this threatening phantom, which, with
raised finger, stood behind her, which seemed to chase her, and
from which she ever fled to new sins and new guilt. Sometimes
she had a feeling as if Death held her in his arms, and turned her
round in a wild and rapid dance, not regarding her prayers, or her
panting, gasping breath ; she would, oh how gladly, have rested ;
gladly have laid down in some dark and quiet corner, away from
this wild gayety. But she could not escape from those mysterious
arms which held her captive in their iron clasp, which rushed on-
ward with her in the death-dance of sin. She must go onward, ever
onward, in this career of vice ; she must ever again seek intoxica-
tion in the opium of sin, to save herself from the barren, colorless
nothingness which awaited her ; from that worst of all evils, the
weariness with which the old coquette paints the terrible future, in
which even she can no longer please ; in which old age with a cruel
hand sweeps away the flowerc from the hair and the crimson from
the cheek, and points out to the mocking world the wrinkles on the
brow and the ashes in the hair.
"It is cold here," said Louise, shuddering, and springing up
quickly from the grass-plot " it is cold here, and lonely ; I will
return to the saloon. Perhaps "
Hasty steps drew near, and a voice whispered her name. Ma-
dame du Trouffle drew back, and a glowing blush suffused her
cheek, and as she advanced from the grotto she was again the gay,
imperious coquette the beautiful woman, with the cloudless brow
and the sparkling eyes, which seemed never to have been over-
THE KING IN SANS-SOUCI. 493
shadowed by tears. The conscience-stricken, self-accusing mother
was again the worldly-wise coquette.
Her name was called the second time, and her heart trembled,
she knew not if with joy or horror.
"For God's sake, why have you dared to seek me here? Do you
not know that my husband may return at any moment?"
"Your husband is entertaining Prince Henry while the princess
dances the first waltz with Count Kalkreuth. All the world is danc-
ing, playing, and chatting, and, while looking at the prince and
princess, have for one moment forgotten the beautiful Louise du
Trouffle. I alone could not do this, and as I learned from Lady
Elliot that you were here, I dared to follow you, and seek in one
glance a compensation for what I have endured this day. Ah, tell
me, worshipped lady, must I be f orever banished from your presence. "
The words of the young man would have seemed insincere and
artificial to every unprejudiced ear, but they filled the heart of the
vain Louise du Trouffle with joy ; they convinced her that she was
yet beautiful enough to excite admiration.
" All will be well, Emil, " said she ; " I have convinced my hus-
band that I am wise as Cato and virtuous as Lucretia. He believes
in me, and will cast all slander from his door. Remain here, and
let me return alone to the saloon. Au revoir, man ami. "
She threw him a kiss from the tips of her rosy fingers, and
hastened away.
CHAPTER IV.
THE KINO IN SANS-SOUCI.
THE ceremonies and festivities of the reception were ended.
The king could at length indulge himself in that quiet and repose
which he had so long vainly desired. At length, he who had lived
so many years to perform the duties of a king, who had in reality
lived for his country, might after so many cares and sorrows seek
repose. The warrior and hero might once more become the philoso-
pher ; might once more enjoy with his friends the pleasure of science
and art.
The king entered the carriage which was to bear him to Sans-
Souci with a beaming countenance his deeply-loved Sans-Souci,
which had seemed a golden dream to him during the dreary years
of the war a bright goal before him, of which it consoled and
strengthened him even to think. Npw he would again behold it ;
now he would again enter those beautiful rooms, and the past would
once more become a reality.
494 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
He seemed enraptured with the road which led him to Sans
Souci. Every tree, every stone appeared to welcome him, and
when the palace became visible, he was entirely overcome by his
emotions, and sank back in his carriage with closed eyes.
The Marquis d'Argens, however, the only one who had been
allowed to accompany the king in this drive, sprang from his seat ;
and waving his hat in greeting, exclaimed :
"I greet you, Sans-Souci, you temple of wisdom and happiness !
Open wide your portals, for your lord is returning to you. Let your
walls resound as did Memnon's pillar, when the sun's rays first
greeted it, after a long night. Your night is passed, Sans-Souci ;
you will be again warmed by the sunbeams from your master's
The king smilingly drew his enthusiastic friend back to his seat.
" You are, and always will be a child an overgrown child. "
"Sire," said D'Argens, "that is because I am pious. It is writ-
ten, 'If you do not become as little children you cannot enter the
kingdom of heaven!' Now, Sans-Souci is my kingdom! I have
become as the children, that I might be received at the side of my
king, and begin once more the days of happiness. "
The king gently shook his head. "Oh, I fear, my friend, that
the days of happiness will not recommence ; the sun which once
illumined Sans-Souci has set. Our lips have forgotten how to
smile, and joy is dead in our hearts. How many illusions, how
many hopes and wishes I still indulged, when I last descended the
steps of Sans-Souci ; how poor, and weak, and depressed I shall feel
in ascending them !"
"What? your majesty poor! You who return so rich in fame,
crowned with imperishable laurels ?"
"Ah, marquis, these laurels are bathed in blood, and paid for
bitterly and painfully with the lives of many thousands of my sub-
jects. The wounds are still gaping which my land received during
the war, and they will require long years to heal. Do not speak to
me of my laurels ; fame is but cold and sorrowful food ! In order to
prize fame, one should lay great weight on the judgment of men ;
I have lost all faith in them. Too many bitter experiences have at
length destroyed my faith and confidence. I can no longer love
mankind, for I have ever found them small, miserable, and crafty.
Those for whom I have done most have betrayed and deceived me
the most deeply. Think of Chafgotch, he whom I called friend,
and who betrayed me in the hour of danger ! Remember Warkotch,
whom I preferred to so many others, whom I overloaded with proofs
of my love, and who wished to betray and murder me ! Think of
the many attempts against my life, which were always undertaken
THE KING IN SANS-SOUCI. 495
by those whom I had trusted and benefited ! Think of these things,
marquis, and then tell me if I should still love and trust mankind !"
" It is true, sire, " said the marquis, sadly ; " your majesty has
had a wretched experience, and mankind must appear small to you,
who are yourself so great. The eagle which soars proudly toward
the sun, must think the world smaller and smaller, the higher he
soars ; the objects which delight us poor earth -worms, who are
grovelling in the dust, and mistake an atom floating in the sun-
shine for the sun itself, must indeed appear insignificant to you. "
" Do not flatter me, marquis ! Let us, when together, hear a
little of that truth which is so seldom heard among men, and of
which the name is scarcely known to kings. You flattered me, be-
cause you had not the courage to answer my question concerning
the unworthiness of mankind, when I said I could no longer love or
trust them I You feel, however, that I am right, and you will know
how to pardon me, when I appear to the world as a cold, hard-
hearted egotist. It is true my heart has become hardened in the
fire of many and deep sufferings I I loved mankind very dearly,
marquis ; perhaps that is the reason I now despise them so intensely ;
because I know they are not worthy of my love !"
" But, sire, you love them still ; for your heart is possessed of
that Godlike quality mercy which overlooks and pardons the faults
and failings of mankind. Intolerance is not in the nature of my
king, and forgiveness and mercy are ever on his lips. "
" I will endeavor to verify your words, dear friend, " said the
king, offering D'Argens his hand. "And should I not succeed, you
must forgive me, and remember how deeply I have suffered, and
that my heart is hardened by the scars of old wounds. But I will
indulge such sad thoughts no longer. Only look how Sans-Souci
gleams before us ! Every window which glitters in the sunlight
seems to greet me with shining eyes, and the whispering leaves
appear to bid me welcome. There are the windows of my library,
and behind them await the great spirits of my immortal friends,
who look at me and shake their gray heads at the weak child who
has returned to them old and bowed down. Caesar looks smilingly
at the laurels I have brought, and Virgil shakes his curly locks, and
lightly hums one of his divine songs, which are greater than all my
victories. Come, marquis, come ! we will go, in all modesty and
humility to these gifted spirits, and entreat them not to despise us,
because we are so unlike them. "
As the carriage reached the lowest terrace, Frederick sprang out
with the elasticity of youth, and began to ascend the steps so lightly
and rapidly, that the marquis could scarcely follow him.
From time to time the king stood still, and gazed around him,
496 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
and then a bright smile illumined his countenance, and his eyes
beamed with pleasure. Then hastening onward, he turned his head
toward the house that looked so still and peaceful, and seemed,
with its open doors, ready to welcome him.
At length, having reached the summit, he turned once more
with beaming eyes to look at the lovely landscape which was spread
before him in smiling luxuriousness. He then hastily entered the
house and the beautiful room in which he had spent so many gay
and happy hours with his friends. Now his footsteps echoed in the
lonely room, and none of his friends were there to welcome the
returning king none but D' Argens, the dearest, the most faithful
of all.
The king now turned to him, and a shadow overspread his coun-
tenance, which had been so bright.
" D' Argens, " he said, "we are very poor ; the most of our friends
have left us forever. The prior of Sans-Souci has returned, but his
monks have all left him but you, marquis !"
" Does your majesty forget my Lord Marshal, the most amiable
and intellectual of your monks ? It needs but a sign from his beloved
prior to recall him from Neufchatel !"
" It is true, " said the king, smiling ; " I am not so deserted as I
thought. Lord Marshal must return to us, and he must live here in
Sans-Souci, as you will. I must surround myself with those who
deserve my confidence ; perhaps, then, I can forget how bitterly I
have been deceived by others. Come, marquis, give me your arm,
and we will make a tour of these rooms. "
He placed his hand upon the arm of the marquis, and they
passed through the silent, deserted rooms, which seemed to greet
the king with a thousand remembrances. Perhaps it was that he
might the more distinctly hear the whispers of memory that be had
commanded that no one should receive him in Sans-Souci, that no
servant should appear until called for. Without noise or ceremony,
he desired to take possession of this house, in which he had not been
the king, but the philosopher and poet. He wished to return here,
at least, as if he had only yesterday left the house. But the seven
years of care and sorrow went with him ; they crept behind him
into these silent, deserted halls. He recognized them in the faded
furniture, in the dusty walls, and in the darkened pictures. They
were not merely around, but within him, and he again felt how
utterly he had changed in these years.
As they entered the room which Voltaire had occupied, Fred-
erick's countenance was again brightened by a smile, while that
of the marquis assumed a dark and indignant expression.
"Ah, marquis, I see from your countenance that you are ac-
THE KING IN SANS-SOUCI. 497
quainted with all the monkey-tricks of my immortal friend, " said
the king, gayly ; " and you are indignant that so great a genius as
Voltaire should have possessed so small a soul ! You think it very
perfidious in Voltaire to have joined my enemies when I was in
trouble, and then to send me his congratulations if I happened to
win a victory !"
"Does your majesty know that also?" asked the astonished
marquis.
" Dear marquis, have we not always good friends and servants,
who take a pleasure in telling bad news, and informing us of those
things which they know it will give us pain to hear? Even kings
have such friends, and mine eagerly acquainted me with the fact
that Voltaire wished all manner of evil might befall his friend
' Luc, ' as it pleased him to call me. Did he not write to D' Argental
that he desired nothing more fervently than my utter humiliation
and the punishment of my sins, on the same day on which he sent
me an enthusiastic poem, written in honor of my victory at Leuthen?
Did he not write on another occasion to Richelieu, that the happiest
day of his life would be that on which the French entered Berlin as
conquerors, and destroyed the capital of the treacherous king who
dared to write to him twice every month the tenderest and most
flattering things, without dreaming of reinstating him as chamber-
lain with the pension of six thousand thalers? He wished that I
might suffer ' la damnation eternelle, ' and proudly added . ' Vous
voyez, gue dans la tragedie je veux toujours que le crime soit puni. ' "
"Yes," replied D'Argens, "and at the same time he wrote here
toFormay : ' Votreroi est toujours unhomme unique, etonnant, inimi-
table ; ilfait des vers charmants dans de temps ou un autre ne pour-
raitfaire un ligne de prose, il merite d'etre heureux. ' "
The king laughed aloud. "Well, and what does that prove, that
Voltaire is the greatest and most unprejudiced of poets ?"
" That proves, sire, that he is a false, perfidious man, a faithless,
ungrateful friend. All his great poetical gifts weigh as nothing in
the scale against the weakness and wickedness of his character.
I can no longer admire him as a poet, because I despise him so
utterly as a man. "
"You are too hard, marquis, " said Frederick, laughing. "Vol
taire has a great mind, but a small heart , and that is, after all, less
his fault than his Creator's. Why should we wish to punish him,
when he is innocent? Why should we demaad of a great poet that
he shall be a good man? We will allow him to have a bad heart,
he can account to Madame Denis for that ; and if we cannot love
him, we can at least admire him as a poet. We can forgive much
wickedness in men, if it is redeemed by great virtues."
498 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"Ah, sire, that is very sad," sad D'Argens, "and could only be
uttered by one who had the most profound love or the greatest con-
tempt for mankind. "
"Perhaps the two are combined in me," said the king. "Ae
Christ said of the Magdalen, ' She has loved much, much will be
forgiven her, ' so let us say of Voltaire. He has written much,
much will be forgiven him. He has lately rendered an immortal
service, for which I could almost love him, were it possible to love
him at all. He undertook with bold courage the defence of the
unhappy Jean Galas, who was murdered by fanatical French priests.
The priests, perhaps, will condemn him ; we, however, honor him. "
"Did not your majesty do the same thing?" asked D'Argens.
"Did you not also take pity on the unhappy family of Jean Galas?
Did you not send them a considerable amount of money and offer
them an asylum in your dominions?"
" That I did, certainly ; but what is that in comparison with
what Voltaire has done? He gave them the strength of his mind
and his work, his best possession, while I could only give them
gold. Voltaire's gift was better, more beautiful, and I will now
take a vow for his sake, that the persecuted and oppressed shall
always find aid and protection in my land, and that I will consider
liberty of spirit a sacred thing as long as I live. Freedom of thought
shall be a right of my subjects. I will call all free and liberal-
minded persons to come to me , for liberty of thought brings liberty
of will, and I prefer to rule a thinking people, to a mass of thought-
less slaves, who follow me through stupid obedience. Prussia shall
be the land of liberty and enlightenment. The believers and the
unbelievers, the pietists and the atheists may speak alike freely ;
the spirit of persecution shall be forever banished from Prussia. "
"Amen," cried D'Argens solemnly, as he glanced at the excited,
beaming countenance of the king. "The spirit of love and of free-
dom hears your words, my king, and they will be written with a
diamond-point in the history of Prussia."
" And now, marquis, " said the king, " we will visit my library,
and then we will repose ourselves that we may enjoy our meal. In
the evening I invite you to the concert. My musicians are coming
from Berlin , and we will see if my lips, which have been accus-
tomed so long to rough words of discipline, are capable of produc-
ing a few sweet notes from my flute. "
Thus speaking, the king took the arm of the marquis, and they
passed slowly through the room, whose desolate silence made them
both sad.
"The world is nothing more than a great, gaping grave,
on the brink of which we walk with wild courage," said the king,
THE KING IN SANS-SOUCI. 499
softly. "There is no moment that some one does not stumble at our
side and fall into the abyss, and we have the courage to continue in
the path until our strength fails and we sink, making room for
another. Almost all of those who formerly occupied these rooms
have vanished. How long will it be ere I shall follow them?"
"May that wretched moment be very distant !" exclaimed D'Ar-
gens, with a trembling voice. "Your majesty is still so young and
full of life you have nothing to do with death."
" No, " said the king ; " I am very old, for I have become indiffer-
ent to the world. Things which would have deeply distressed me
formerly, now pass unheeded over my soul. I assure you, marquis,
I have made great progress in practical philosophy. I am old ; I
stand at the limits of life, and my soul is freeing itself from this
world, which, it is to be hoped, I will soon leave."
"Ah, sire, " said D'Argens, smiling, "you are ten years younger
than I am, and each time that you speak of your rapidly advancing
age, I ask myself how it is possible that a man so much younger
than I should complain of old age. Only wait, sire ; here, in the
quiet of Sans-Souci, in a few months you will feel ten and I fifteen
years younger. In the happiness and comforts of our existence, you
will live to the age of Abraham and I to that of Jacob. "
" But I am much older than you, marquis. During the last seven
years, I have had nothing but destroyed hopes, undeserved misfor-
tunes, in short, all that the caprice of Fortune could discover to dis-
tress me. After such experiences it is allowable, when one is fifty
years old, to say that he is old, that he will no longer be the play-
thing of Fortune, that he renounces ambition and all those follies
which are merely the illusions of inexperienced youth. But no
more of these sad thoughts, for here we are at last at the door of my
tusculum. Fold your hands, you unbelieving son of the Church ;
the gods and heroes await us in this temple, and you will at least
believe in these. "
They entered the library, and as the door closed behind them and
they were separated from the whole world, as they stood in the
centre of the room whose only ornament consisted of rows of books,
upon which glittered in golden letters the names of the great minds
of all ages, whose only splendor consisted in the marble busts of
Caesar and Virgil, of Cicero and Alexander, the king said, with
beaming eyes :
" I am at last in the republic of minds, and I, as a humble citizen,
approach the great presidents, who look down so graciously upon
me."
And, as the king seated himself in his arm-chair before his writ-
ing-table, he recovered his sparkling humor, his gay wit, and re-
500 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
counted with a bright smile to the marquis that he intended to work
most industriously, that he would certainly write a history of this
war which he had just closed, and that he intended always to live
at Sans-Souci, as its quiet and repose seemed more agreeable to him
than the noise and turmoil of the great city. He then dismissed
the marquis for a short time, that he might rest before going to the
table.
But the king did not rest. Too many and too powerful thoughts
were surging in his breast. Leaning back in his arm-chair, he
thought of the future. He recalled his own life and arranged his
future course. After sitting thus for a long time, he suddenly
arose, his countenance bright with a firm and energetic expression.
"Yes, thus it shall be," he said aloud. "I will be the father
of my people. I will live for them, forgetting the wickedness of
men, or only avenging myself on them by the prickings of a needle.
I have no family, therefore my people shall be my family. I have
no children, therefore every one who needs my aid shall become my
child, and for them I will do the duties of a father. My country
bleeds from a thousand wounds to heal these wounds shall be the
task of my life. "
True to this resolution, the king called together his ministers the
next day, and commanded them to obtain exact accounts of the condi -
tion of his provinces ; to inform him of the wants and necessities
of the people ; and to assist him in relieving them. True to this
resolution, the king was untiring in his work for the good of his
people. He wished to see all, to prove all. He desired to be the
source from which his subjects received all their strength and
power. Therefore he must know all their griefs he must lend an
open ear to all their demands.
His first command was, that any one who asked for an interview
should be admitted. And when one of his ministers dared to ex
press his astonishment at this order, " It is the duty of a king, " said
Frederick, " to listen to the request of the most insignificant of his
subjects. I am a regent for the purpose of making my people happy.
I do not dare close my ears to their complaints. " And he listened
sympathizingly to the sorrows of his people, and his whole mind
and thoughts were given to obtain their alleviation. He was always
willing to aid with his counsel and his strength. Untiring in the
work, he read every letter, every petition, and examined every
answer which was written by his cabinet council. He and he alone,
was the soul of his government.
A new life began to reign in this land, of which he was the soul.
He worked more than all of his ministers or servants, and music
and science were his only pleasure and recreation. He was a hero
THE ENGRAVED CUP. 501
in peace as well as in war. He did not require, as others do, the
distraction of gay pleasures. Study was his chief recreation con-
versation with his friends was his greatest pleasure. Even the
hunt, the so-called "knightly pleasure," had no charms for him.
" Hunting, " said the king, " is one of the senseless pleasures
which excites the body but leaves the mind unemployed. We are
more cruel than the wild beasts themselves. He who can murder
an innocent animal in cold blood, would find it impossible to show
mercy to his fellow-man. Is hunting a proper employment for a
thinking creature? A gentleman who hunts can only be forgiven
if he does so rarely, and then to distract his thoughts from sad and
earnest business matters. It would be wrong to deny sovereigns
all relaxation, but is there a greater pleasure for a monarch than to
rule well, to enrich his state, and to advance all useful sciences and
arts? He who requires other enjoyments is to be pitied. "
CHAPTER V.
THE ENGRAVED CUP.
PRINCESS AMELIA was alone in her boudoir she was ever alone.
She lay upon the sofa, gazed at the ceiling, and in utter despair re-
flected upon her miserable fate. For years she had looked anxiously
forward to the conclusion of this unhappy war in which Austria
and Prussia were so fiercely opposed. So long as they were active
enemies, Trenck must remain a prisoner. But she had said to her-
self, " When peace is declared, the prisoners of war will be released,
and Maria Theresa will demand that her captain, Frederick von
Trenck, be set at liberty. "
Peace had been declared four months, and Trenck still lay in his
subterranean cell at Magdeburg. All Europe was freed from the
fetters of war. Trenck alone was unpardoned and forgotten. This
thought made Amelia sad unto death, banished sleep from her
couch, and made her a restless, despairing wanderer during the day.
Amelia had no longer an object the last ray of hope was extin
guished. Peace had been concluded and Trenck was forgotten !
God had denied her the happiness of obtaining Trenck's freedom ;
He would not even grant her the consolation of seeing him released
through others. For nine years Trenck had languished in prison
for nine years Amelia's only thought, only desire, was to enable
him to escape. Her life was consecrated to this one object. She
thought not of the gold she had sacrificed she had offered up not
only her entire private fortune, but had made debts which her in-
502 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
come was utterly inadequate to meet. Money had no value except
as it was consecrated to her one great aim. She felt now that her
heart had been crushed and broken in her useless efforts that her
hopes were trampled in the dust, and her existence worthless. Peace
had visited all hearts but hers with new assurance of hope. It
brought to her nothing but despair and desolation. While all others
seemed to recommence life with fresh courage and confidence,
Amelia withdrew to her apartments, brooding in dark discontent
hating all those who laughed and were glad spurning from her
with angry jealousy the contented and happy. The world was to
her a vast tomb, and she despised all those who had the mad and
blasphemous courage to dance on its brink.
Amelia avenged herself on those who avoided her, by pursuing
them with spiteful jests and bitter sarcasm, hoping in this way to
be relieved wholly from their presence. She wished to be alone and
always alone. Her soul within her was desolate, and the outward
world should take the same dark hue. She lived like a prisoner
secluded in her own apartments ; and when some great court festival
compelled her to appear in public, she revenged herself by wound-
ing all who approached her. The sufferings of others were a balsam
to her heart, and she convinced herself that the pain she inflicted
assuaged her own torments.
Amelia was alone ; her maid of honor had just read aloud one of
Moliere's biting, satirical comedies, and received leave of absence
for a few hours. The princess had also dismissed her chamberlain
till dinner, and he had left the castle ; only two pages waited in the
anteroom, which was separated by two chambers from the boudoir.
Amelia had the happy consciousness of being alone in her grief,
and, fearing no disturbance, she could sigh and lament aloud. She
dared give words to her rage and her despair ; there were no other
listeners than these dead, voiceless walls they had been long her
only confidants. The stillness was suddenly broken by a gentle
knock at the door, and one of the pages entered.
With a frightened look, and begging earnestly to be pardoned for
having dared to disturb the princess, he informed her that a stranger
was without, who pleaded eagerly to be admitted.
"What does he wish?" said Amelia, roughly. "I have neither
office nor dignity to bestow, and, at present, I have no money ! Tell
him this, and he will go away cheerfully. "
"The stranger says he is a jeweller, your highness," said the
page. "It is of great importance to him that you should look at his
collection of gems ; .and if you will have the goodness to purchase a
few trifles, you will make them the fashion in Berlin, and thus
make his fortune. "
THE ENGRAVED CUP. 503
"Tell him he is a fool!" said Amelia, with a coarse laugh ; "I
have no desire to see his jewels ! Dismiss him, and do not dare dis-
turb me again. Well, why do you hesitate? Why are you still
here ?"
"Ah, princess, the poor man begs so earnestly for admittance;
he says your highness knew him at Magdeburg, and that the gov-
ernor, the Landgrave of Hesse, expressly charged him to show the
jewels to your highness. "
These magical words aroused Amelia from her apathy. With a
quick movement she arose from the sofa; she was endowed with
new energy and vitality ; she advanced toward the door, then
paused, and looked silent and thoughtful.
"Admit the stranger !" said she, " I will see his treasures. "
The page left the room, and Amelia gazed after him breath-
lessly, and with a loudly-beating heart. It seemed to her an eter-
nity before the stranger entered.
A tall, slender man, in simple but elegant costume, approached.
He stood at the door, and bowed profoundly to the princess. Amelia
looked at him steadily, and sighed deeply; she did not know this
man. Again her hopes had deceived her.
"You said the Landgrave of Hesse sent you to me?" said she,
roughly.
" Yes, princess, " said the man ; " he commanded me to seek your
highness as soon as I arrived in Berlin, and show you my collection,
in order that you might have the privilege of selecting before all
others. "
Amelia looked once more questioningly and fiercely upon the
stranger, but he remained cold and indifferent.
" Well, sir, show me your gems !"
He placed a large casket upon a table in the middle of the room ;
he then unlocked it, and threw back the lid. In the different com-
partments, splendid jewels of wondrous beauty were to be seen
rings, pins, bracelets, and necklaces of rare workmanship and
design.
" Diamonds, " cried Amelia, contemptuously ; " nothing but
diamonds !"
" But diamonds of a strange fire and wondrous design, " said the
strange jeweller. " Will not your highness graciously draw nearer,
and observe them ?"
"I have no use for them; I wear no diamonds!" said Amelia;
" if you have nothing else to show me, close the casket ; I shall make
no purchase. "
"I have, indeed, other and rarer treasures ; some beautiful carved
work, by CelHni. some ivory carving of the middle ages, and a few
504 FREDERICK THE IEAT AND HIS FAMILY.
rare and costly cameos. Perhaps these may please the taste of your
highness?"
The jeweller raised the first compartment, and taking out
a number of beautiful and costly articles, he laid them upon
the table, explained the workmanship and design of each piece,
and called the attention of the princess to their wondrous
beauty.
Amelia listened carelessly to his words. These things had no
interest for her ; she looked only at one object a round packet,
rolled in paper, which the stranger had taken with the other articles
from the casket ; this must be something particularly costly. It
was carefully wrapped in silk paper, while every thing else lay
confusedly together, and yet this seemed the only treasure which the
jeweller did not seem disposed to exhibit. Amelia, however, re-
marked that he raised this mysterious packet several times, as if it
was in his way ; changed its place, but every time brought it nearer
to her. It now lay immediately in front of her.
"What does that paper contain?" said she.
" Oh, that has no interest for your royal highness ; that is a
worthless object ! Will you have the goodness to examine this seal?
It represents the holy Saint Michael, treading the dragon under his
feet, and it is one of the most successful and beautiful works of
Benvenuto Cellini. "
Amelia did not look at the seal ; she stretched out her hand
toward the mysterious packet, and giving a searching look at the
jeweller, she raised and opened it.
"A cup ! a tin cup !" she exclaimed, in astonishment.
" As I remarked to your highness, a worthless object ; unless the
rare beauty of the workmanship should give it some value. The
carving is indeed beautiful and most wonderful, when you know
that it was done with a common nail, and not even in daylight, but
in the gloom and darkness of a subterranean cell."
Amelia trembled so violently, that the cup almost fell from her
hand. The stranger did not remark her emotion, but went on
quietly.
"Observe, your highness, how finely and correctly the outlines
are drawn ; it is as artistically executed as the copperplate of a
splendid engraving. It is greatly to be regretted that we cannot
take impressions from this tin cup ; they would make charming
pictures. The sketches are not only well executed, but they are
thoughtfully and pathetically conceived and illustrated with beau-
tiful verses, which are worthy of a place in any album. If your
highness takes any interest in such trifles, I beg you will take this
to the light and examine it closely. "
THE JEWELER AMD PRINCESS AMELIE.
THE ENGRAVED CUP. 505
The princess did not answer : she stepped to the window, and
turning her back to the jeweller, looked eagerly at the cup.
It was, indeed, a masterpiece of art and industry. The surface
was divided by small and graceful arabesques into ten departments,
each one of which contained an enchanting and finely-executed
picture. No chisel could have drawn the lines more correctly or
artistically, or produced a finer effect of light and shade. Under
each picture there was a little verse engraved in such fine charac-
ters, that they could only be deciphered with difficulty.
Amelia's eyes seemed to have recovered the strength and power
of earlier days. A youthful, vigorous soul lay in the glance which
was fixed upon this cup ; she understood every thing.
There was a cage with an imprisoned bird ; beneath this a verse :
" Ce n'est pas un moineau,
Gard6 dans cette cage,
(Test un de ces oiseaux,
Qui chantent dans 1'orage.
Ou vrez, amis des sages,
Brisez f era et verroux ;
Les chants dans vos bocages,
Rejailliront pour vous." *
In the next compartment was again a cage, containing a bird,
and on the branch of a tree under wh'ch the cage was placed,
perched another bird, with fluttering wings and open beak ; under-
neath was written
" Le rossignol chante, voici la raison,
Pourquoi il est pris pour chanter en prison;
Voyez le moineau qui fait tant de dommage,
Jouir de la vie sans craindre la cage.
Voila un portrait,
Qui montre 1'effet
Du bonheur des fripons du d6sastre des sages." *
Amelia could not control herself ; she could look no longer. She
rarely wept, but now her eyes were filled with tears. They fell upon
the cup, as if to kiss the letters which had recalled so many touching
and sad remembrances. But she had no time for tears , she must
read on ! With an involuntary movement, she dashed the tears from
her eyes, and fixed them steadily upon the cup.
Here was another picture. In a cell lay a skeleton form, the
hands and the feet bound with heavy chains. The figure had raised
itself slightly from the straw bed and gazed with an agonized ex-
pression at the grating in the wall, behind which the grim-bearded
face of a soldier was seen, who, with wide-open mouth seemed to
* See note, page 573.
83
506 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
be calling angrily to the prisor' Beneath this stood some verses
in German. *
" Oh fearful ! most fearful !" sobbed Amelia ; and, completely
overcome, her head sank upon her breast. She cared not that the
strange jeweller saw her tears and heard the despairing cry of her
heart ; she had nothing to fear ; she had no more to lose. The as-
sembled world might hear and see her great grief. But no, no ; this
must not be. His agony, his tortures, might perhaps be increased
to punish her through him ! She must not weep ; she must not com-
plain. Trenck lived ; although in prison and in chains, he still
lived ; so long as he lived, she must conquer the despair of her heart.
As she thought thus, she dried her tears, and raised her head with
proud resolve. She would be calm and self-possessed ; perhaps this
man, sent to her by the landgrave, had something still to say to her.
She half turned her head toward him ; he appeared not to be think-
ing of her, but was quietly engaged placing his treasures again in
his casket.
" Can you tell me who engraved this cup ?"
"Certainly, your royal highness. A poor prisoner, who has been
confined for nine years in a subterranean cell in the fortress of Mag-
deburg, engraved it. He is called Frederick von Trenck. Your
highness has perhaps never heard the name, but in Magdeburg
every child knows it, and speaks it with wonder and admiration !
No one has seen him, but every one knows of his daring, his hero-
ism, his unfaltering courage, and endurance, his herculean strength,
and his many and marvellous attempts to escape. Trenck is the
hero of the nursery as well as the saloon. No lady in Magdeburg is
acquainted with him, but all are enthusiastic in his praise, and all
the officers who know him love and pity him. Many are ready to
risk their lives for him !"
The princess sighed deeply, and a ray of joy and hope lighted up
her countenance. She listened with suppressed breath to the jewel-
ler's words they sounded like far-off music, pleasant but mournful
to the soul.
The stranger continued : " Some time since, in order to dispel the
tediousness of his prison-life, he began to engrave poems and fig-
ures upon his tin cup with a nail which he had found in the earth
while making his last attempt to undermine the floor of his cell.
During one of his visits of observation, the commandant discovered
* See memoirs of Trenck, Thi6bault, in which Trenck describes one of these cups
and the fate which befell it. One of them was engraved for the Landgrave of Hesse,
and in this way fell into the hands of the Emperor Joseph the Second, who kept it in
his art cabinet. Another, which had been once in possession of the wife of Freder-
ick the Great, Trenck afterward recovered in Paris. Some of these cups are still to
be seen in art collections in Germany, and some are in the museum in Berlin.
THE ENGRAVED CUP. 507
this cup ; he was delighted with the engravings, took the cup and
sent Trenck another, hoping he would continue the exercise of his
art. Trenck seized the occasion joyfully, and since then he has been
constantly occupied as an engraver. Every officer desires to have a
cup engraved by him, as a souvenir. Every lady in Magdeburg
longs for one, and prefers it to the most costly jewel. These cups
are now the mode indeed, they have become an important article
in trade. If one of the officers can be induced to sell his cup, it will
cost twenty louis d'or. Trenck gets no money for his work, but he
has gained far greater advantages. These cups give him the oppor-
tunity of making known to the world the cruel tortures to which he
is subject ; they have given him speech, and replaced the writing
materials of which they have deprived him. They have answered
even a better and holier purpose than this, " said the jeweller, in a
low voice, " they have procured him light and air. In order to give
him sufficient light for his work, the officers open the doors into the
first corridor, in which there is a large window ; one of the upper
panes of this window is open every morning. As the days are short
in the casemates, the commandant looks through his fingers, when
the officers bring lights to the poor prisoner. Trenck feels as if his
wretched prison-cell was now changed into the atelier of an artist. "
Amelia was silent and pressed the cup tenderly to her lips ; the
stranger did not regard her, but continued his recital quietly.
" An officer of the garrison told me all this, your highness, when
he sold me this cup. They make no secret of their admiration and
affection for Trenck ; they know they would be severely punished if
the higher authorities discovered that they allowed Trenck any
privileges or alleviations, but they boast of it and consider it a hu-
mane action. "
"May God reward them for it !" sighed Amelia. " I will buy this
cup, sir. I do not wish to be behind the ladies of Magdeburg, and
as it is the mode to possess a cup engraved by Trenck, I will take
this. Name your price. "
The jeweller was silent for a moment, then said :
"Pardon me, your highness, I dare not sell you this cup, or
rather I implore your highness not to desire it. If possible, I will
make it an instrument for Trenck's release."
"How can this be done?" said Amelia, breathlessly.
"I will take this cup to General Riedt, the Austrian ambassador
in Berlin. As all the world is interesting itself for Trenck, I do
not see why I should not do the same, and endeavor to obtain his re-
lease. I shall therefore go to General Riedt with this cup. I am
told he is a noble gentleman and a distant relation of Trenck ; he
cannot fail to sympathize with his unfortunate cousin. When
508 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
he hears of his cruel sufferings he will certainly strive to deliver
him. General Riedt is exactly the man to effect this great object ;
he is thoroughly acquainted with all the by-ways and intrigues of
the court of Vienna. Maria Theresa classes him among her most
trusted confidants and friends. Whoever desires to free Trenck
must consult with General Riedt and win him. "
Amelia raised her head and looked up quickly at the stranger ;
his eyes were fixed upon her with a searching and significant ex-
pression ; their glances met and were steadily fixed for one moment,
then a scarcely perceptible smile flitted over the face of the jeweller,
and the princess nodded her head. Each felt that they were under-
stood.
"Have you nothing more to say?" said Amelia.
"No, your highness, I have only to beg you will pardon me for
not selling you this cup. I must take it to General Riedt. "
"Leave it with me," said Amelia, after a few moments' reflec-
tion. " I myself will show it to him and seek to interest him in the
fate of his unhappy relative. If I succeed, the cup is mine, and
you will not wish to sell it to General Riedt Do you agree to this?
Go, then, and return to me at this hour to-morrow, when I will either
pay you the price of the cup, or return it to you, if I am so unhappy
as to fail. "
The jeweller bowed profoundly. " I will punctually obey your
highness's commands. To-morrow at this hour I will be here."
The stranger took his casket and left the room. The princess
gazed after him till the door closed.
" That man is silent and discreet, I believe he can be trusted, "
she murmured. "I will write at once, and desire an interview
with General Riedt. "
CHAPTER VI.
THE PRINCESS AND THE DIPLOMAT.
AN hour later the page of the princess announced General von
Riedt, Austrian ambassador at the court of Berlin. Amelia ad-
vanced to meet him, and gazed with a sharp, piercing glance at the
general, who bowed respectfully before her.
" I have sent for you, general, " said the princess, " to repair an
injury. You have been announced twice, and both times I declined
receiving you. "
"That was no injury, your royal highness," said the general,
THE PRINCESS AND THE DIPLOMAT. 509
smiling. "I ventured to call on you because etiquette demands that
a new ambassador should introduce himself to every member of the
royal house. Your royal highness declined to receive me, it was
not agreeable, and you were perfectly justifiable in closing your
doors against me. "
" And now you must wonder why I have sent for you ?"
" I never allow myself to wonder. Your order for me to come
has made me happy that is sufficient. "
" You have no suspicion why I sent for you ?"
"Your royal highness has just informed me you kindly wished
to indemnify me for my two former visits. "
" You are a good diplomatist ; you turn quickly about, are as
smooth as an eel, cannot be taken hold of, but slip through one's
fingers. I am accustomed to go at once to the point I cannot di-
plomatize. See here, why I wished to see you I wished to show
you this cup. "
She took the cup hastily from the table, and gave it to the am-
bassador. He gazed at it long and earnestly ; he turned it around,
looking at every picture, reading every verse. Amelia watched
him keenly, but his countenance betrayed nothing. He was as
smiling, as unembarrassed as before. When he had looked at it
attentively, he placed it on the table.
"Well, what do you think of the workmanship?" said Amelia.
" It is wonderful, worthy of an artist, your royal highness. "
"And do you know by what artist it was made?"
"I suspect it, your royal highness."
"Give me his name?"
" I think he is called Frederick von Trenck. "
"It is so, and if I do not err, he is your relative?"
"My distant relative yes, your royal highness."
"And can you bear to have your relative in chains? Does not
your heart bleed for his sufferings ?"
" He suffers justly, I presume, or he would not have been con-
demned. "
" Were he the greatest criminal that lived, it would still be a
crime to make him suffer perpetually. A man's sleep is sacred, be
he a criminal or a murderer. Let them kill the criminal, but they
should not murder sleep. Look at this picture, general ; look at
this prisoner lying upon the hard floor ; he has been torn from his
dreams of freedom and happiness by the rough voice of the soldier
standing at his door. Read the verse beneath it is not every word
of it bathed in tears? Breathes there not a cry of terror throughout
so fearful, so unheard-of, that it must resound in every breast?
And you, his relative, you will not hear him ? You will do nothing
510 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
to free this unfortunate man from his prison? You, the Austrian
ambassador, suffer an officer of your empress to remain a prisoner
in a strange land, without a trial, without a hearing. "
" When my empress sent me here, she gave me her instructions,
and she informed me of the extent and character of my duties.
She did not request me to exert myself for the release of this un-
fortunate prisoner , that is entirely beyond my sphere of action, and
I must be discreet."
"You must be careful and discreet when the life of a man, a
relative, is concerned? You have, then, no pity for him?"
"I pity him deeply, your royal highness, but can do nothing
more. "
" Perhaps not you ! Perhaps another ! Perhaps I ?"
" I do not know if your royal highness interests herself sufficiently
in the prisoner to work for him. "
" You know not whether I interest myself sufficiently in Trenck
to serve him," cried Amelia, with a harsh laugh. "You well know
it ; the whole world knows it ; no one dares speak of it aloud, for
fear of the king's anger ; but it is whispered throughout the whole
land why Trenck languishes in prison. You, you alone, should be
ignorant of it ! Know, then, that Trenck is imprisoned because I
love him ! Yes, general, I love him! Why do you not laugh, sir?
Is it not laughable to hear an old, wrinkled, broken-down creature
speak of love to see a wan, trembling form, tottering to her grave
on a prop of love? Look at this horribly disfigured countenance.
Listen to the rough, discordant voice that dares to speak of love,
and then laugh, general, for I tell you I love Trenck. I love him
with all the strength and passion of a young girl. Grief and age
have laid a fearful mask upon my countenance, but my heart is
still young, there burns within it an undying, a sacred flame. My
thoughts, my desires are passionate and youthful, and my every
thought, my every desire is for Trenck. I could tell you of all the
agony, all the despair I have endured for his sake, but it would be
useless. There is no question of my sufferings, but of his who
through me has lost his youth and his freedom his all ! Nine years
he has lain in prison ; for nine years my one aim has been to release
aim. My existence, my soul, my heart, are bound up in his prison
\valls. I only live to release him. Though I have ceased to look for
human assistance, my heart still prays earnestly to God for some
way of escape. If you know any such, general, show it to me, and
were it strewed with thorns and burning irons, I would wander
upon it in my bare feet. "
She raised her hands and fixed an imploring glance upon the
general, who had listened to her in silence. When she had ceased
THE PRINCESS AND THE DIPLOMAT. 511
speaking, he raised his head and looked at her. Amelia could have
cried aloud for joy, for two bright, precious tears gleamed in his
eye.
" You weep, " cried she ; " you have some pity. "
The general took her hand, and kneeling reverentially before her
he said : " Yes, I weep, but not over you. I weep over your great,
self-sacrificing soul. I do not pity you your grief is too great,
too sacred it is above pity. But I bow profoundly before you, for
your suffering is worthy of all reverence. To me you appear much
more beautiful than all the women of this court who dance giddily
through life. It is not the diplomatist but the man who kneels be-
fore you and offers you his homage. "
Gently Amelia bade him rise. With a sweet, happy smile upon
her lip she thanked him for his sympathy, and hoped they would
be good friends and counsel with each other.
The general was silent for a few moments. " The feelings of the
empress must be worked upon she must intercede with King Fred-
erick for Trenck. He cannot refuse her first request. "
"Will you undertake to effect this?" said Amelia, hastily.
"Will you intercede for your unfortunate relative?"
" I had done so long ago had it been possible. Alas, I dared not.
Trenck is my relative my request would, therefore, have been con-
sidered as that of a prejudiced person. My exalted empress possesses
so strong a sense of right that it has become a rule of hers never to
fulfil a request made by any of her own intimate and confidential
friends for their families or relatives. She would have paid no
attention to my request for Trenck 's release. Moreover, I would
have made enemies of a powerful and influential party at court
with a party whose wish it is that Trenck may never be released, be-
cause he would then come and demand an account of the gold, jewels,
and property left him by his cousin, the colonel of the pandours,
thus causing a great disturbance amongst several noble families at
court. These families are continually filling the ear of the empress
with acccusations against the unfortunate prisoner, well knowing
that he cannot defend himself. You must appear to have forgotten
that poor Trenck is languishing in prison while his property is being
guarded by stewards who pay themselves for their heavy labor with
the old colonel's money. It is dangerous, therefore, to meddle with
this wasp's nest. To serve Trenck, the interceder must be so harm-
less and insignificant that no one will consider it worth while to
watch him, so that Trenck' s enemies, not suspecting him, can place
no obstacles in his path. "
"Lives there such a one?" said the princess.
" Yes, your royal highness. "
512 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HiS FAMILY.
"Where is he? What is his name ? What is he?"
" The fireman in the apartments of the empress. He is a poor
Savoyard, without name, without rank, without position, but with
credit and influence. "
"A fireman?" cried the princess, with amazement.
"An old, ugly, deformed fellow, called by the other servants
Gnome because of his stubborn silence, his want of sociability, his
rough manner and voice, his caring for nothing but his service,
which he performs with great method. Every morning at six he
enters her majesty's apartment, makes the fire, throws back the
curtain to admit the light, arranges the chairs, and then withdraws
without the least noise. All this he does without committing the
slightest indiscretion ; always the same ; never lingering beyond
his time never leaving before. He is like a clock that maintains
always the same movement and sound. The empress, accustomed
for thirty years to see him enter daily her apartments, has become
used to his homeliness, and often in the kindness of her heart enters
into conversation with him. His answers are always laconic, in a
tone of perfect indifference at times brusque, even harsh but they
have a sensible and often a deep meaning. When the empress
speaks with him, he does not cease his work for a moment, and
when he has finished he does not remain a minute longer, but goes
without asking if she desires to continue the conversation. For
thirty years he has had the same duties and has fulfilled them in
the same manner. He has never been accused of a mistake he has
never been guilty of inqnisitiveness or intrigue. Thus the empress
has great and firm confidence in him. She is so convinced of his
truth, disinterestedness, and probity, that he has gained a sort of
influence over her, and as she knows that he is to be won neither by
gold, flattery, promises of position and rank, she constantly asks
his opinion on matters of importance, and not seldom is biassed by
its strong, sensible tone. "
" But if this man is so honest and disinterested, how are \ve to
influence him?"
"We must seek to win his heart and his head. He must become
interested in the fate of the unfortunate prisoner he must become
anxious for his release. When we have done this much, we can
question his self-interest and offer him gold."
"Gold? This wonder of probity and truth is susceptible to
bribes?"
" He never has, perhaps never may be. He himself has no desires,
no necessities ; but he has one weakness his daughter. She is a
young and lovely girl, whom he, in his dark distrust of all at
court in the form of men, has had educated in a convent far from
THE PRINCESS AND THE DIPLOMAT. 513
Vienna. She is now living with some respectable family in Vienna,
but she never visits him, never enters the castle to inquire for him
for fear she should be seen by some of the court gentlemen. This
girl has now formed an attachment to a young doctor. They would
like to marry, but he has no practice, she no money. Her father
has saved nothing, but spent all his wages on her education, and
has no dowry for his daughter. "
"And he intends to plead with the empress for this dower?"
" If such a thought came to him he would put it away with con-
tempt, for his only ambition consists in making no requests, receiv-
ing no gifts from the empress. Nor would he now act for this gold
alone contrary to his idea of right, were his daughter to die of sor-
row. As I said before, his heart and head must first be won, then
only must we speak of reward. "
" If this man has a heart, we cannot fail to win it when we tell
him all that Trenck has suffered and still endures, " cried the prin-
cess. "The agony and despair that have been heaped upon the
head of one poor mortal will surely touch both head and heart.
When we have succeeded, we will give his daughter a handsome
dower. God has so willed it that -I am right rich now, and can ful-
fil my promises. My pension as abbess and my salary as princess
were both paid in yesterday. There is a little fortune in my desk,
and I shall add more to it. Do you think four thousand louis d'or
will be sufficient to win the Savoyard's heart?"
" For any other it would be more than sufficient ; but to win this
honest heart, your offer is not too great. "
"But is it enough?"
"It is."
" Now, all that we need is some sure, cunning messenger to send
to him ; a man whose heart and head, soul and body are bound up
in the cause he advocates. General, where shall we find such a
man?"
General Riedt laughed. "I thought your royal highness had
already found him."
The princess looked at him in amazement.
"Ah," cried she, "the jeweller; the man who brought me the
cup ; who referred me to you in so wise and discreet a manner. "
"I think you desired him to return early to-morrow morning V"
"How do you know that? Are you acquainted with him?"
General Riedt bowed smilingly. "I ventured to send him to
your royal highness. "
"Ah! I now understand it all, and must acknowledge that the
jeweller is as great a negotiator as you are a diplomatist. The cu <
I showed you, you sent to me?"
514 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" I received it from the Governor of Magdeburg, the Landgrave
of Hesse ; as I could do nothing with it, I ventured to send it to
your royal highness. "
"And I thank you, general, for sending it in so discreet, so wise
a manner. "We may, perhaps, succeed in keeping all this secret
from my brother, so that he cannot act against us. Hasten away,
general, and give the jeweller, or whatever else he may be, his in-
structions. Send him to me early in the morning for his reward. " *
CHAPTER VII.
THE ROYAL HOUSE-SPY.
THE next morning, a carriage drew up before the garden of Sans-
Souci, and a gentleman, in a glittering, embroidered court uniform,
crept out slowly and with much difficulty. Coughing and murmur-
ing peevish words to himself, he slipped into the allee leading to the
terraces. His "back was bent, and from under the three-cornered
hat, ornamented with rich gold lace, came sparsely, here and there,
a few silver hairs. Who could have recognized, in this doubled-up,
decrepit form, now with tottering knees creeping up the terrace,
the once gay, careless, unconcerned grand-master of ceremonies,
Baron von Pollnitz ? Who could have supposed that this old weather-
beaten visage, deformed with a thousand wrinkles, once belonged
to the dashing cavalier? And yet, it was even so. Pollnitz had
grown old, and his back was bowed down under the yoke which the
monster Time lays at last upon humanity ; but his spirit remained
unchanged. He had preserved his vivacity, his malice, his egotism.
He had the same passion for gold much gold ; not, however, to
hoard, but to lavish. His life was ever divided between base covet-
ousness and thoughtless prodigality. When he had revelled and
gormandized through the first days of every month, he was forced,
during the last weeks, to suffer privation and hunger, or to borrow
from those who were good-natured and credulous enough to lend
him. There was also one other source of revenue which the adroit
courtier knew how to use to his advantage. He was a splendid
ecarte player ; and, as it was his duty, as grand -master of ceremonies,
to provide amusements for the court, to choose places and partners
for the card-tables, he always arranged it so as to bring himself in
contact with wealthy and eager card-players, from some of whom
* The princess succeeded in winning the influence of the fireman. How he suc-
ceeded with the empress, can be seen hi "Thiebault's Souvenirs de Vingt Ans,"
vol. ft.
THE ROYAL HOUSE-SPY. 515
he could win, and from others borrow a few louis d'or. Besides
this, since the return of the king, Pollnitz had voluntarily taken up
his old trade of spy, and informed Frederick of all he saw and heard
at court ; for this, from time to time, he demanded a small reward.
" Curious idea, " he said, as, puffing and blowing, he clambered
up the terrace. "Curious idea to live in this wearisome desert,
when he has respectable and comfortable castles in the midst of the
city, and on a level plain. One might truly think that the king,
even in life, wishes to draw nearer to heaven, and withdraws from
the children of man, to pray and prepare himself for paradise. "
The baron laughed aloud ; it seemed to him a droll idea to look
at the king as a prayerful hermit. This conception amused him,
and gave him strength to go onward more rapidly, and he soon
reached the upper platform of the terrace, upon which the castle
stood. Without difficulty, he advanced to the antechamber, but
there stood Deesen, and forbade him entrance to the king.
"His majesty holds a cabinet council," said he, "and it is ex-
pressly commanded to allow no one to enter. "
" Then I will force an entrance, " said Pollnitz, stepping boldly
to the door. " I must speak to his majesty ; I have something most
important to communicate. "
" I think it cannot be more important than that which now occu-
pies the king's attention, " said the intrepid Deesen. "I am com-
manded to allow no one to enter ; I shall obey the order of the king. "
" I am resolved to enter, " said Pollnitz, in a loud voice ; but
Deesen spread his broad figure threateningly before the door. An
angry dispute arose, and Pollnitz made his screeching voice resound
so powerfully, he might well hope the king would hear him, and in
this he was not deceived ; the king heard and appeared at once upon
the threshold.
- Pollnitz, " said he, " you are and will always be an incorrigible
fool ; you are crowing as loud as a Gallic cock, who is declaring war
against my people. I have made pence with the Gauls, mark that,
and do not dare again to crow so loud. What do you want? Do
your creditors wish to cast you in prison, or do you wish to inform
me that you have become a Jew, and wish to accept some lucrative
place as Rabbi ?"
" No, sire, I remain a reformed Christian, and my creditors will
never take the trouble to arrest me ; they know that would avail
nothing. I come on most grave and important matters of business,
and I pray your majesty to grant me a private audience. "
Frederick looked sternly at him. "Listen, Pollnitz, you are still
a long-winded and doubtful companion, notwithstanding your sev-
enty-six years. Deliberate a moment ; if that which you tell me is
516 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
not important, and requiring speedy attention, I will punish you
severely for having dared to interrupt me in my cabinet council ; I
will withhold your salary for the next month. "
" Your majesty, the business is weighty, and requires immediate
attention ; I stake my salary upon it. "
" Come, then, into my cabinet, but be brief, " said Frederick,
stepping into the adjoining room. "Now speak," said he, as he
closed the door.
" Sire, first, I must ask your pardon for daring to allude to a sub-
ject which is so old that its teeth are shaky and its countenance
wrinkled. "
"You wish, then, to speak of yourself?" said Frederick.
"No, sire; I will speak of a subject which bloomed before the
war, and since then has withered and faded in a subterranean
prison ; but it now threatens to put forth new buds, to unfold new
leaves, and I fear your majesty will find that undesirable. "
"Speak, then, clearly, and without circumlocution. I am con-
vinced it is only some gossiping or slander you wish to retail. You
come as a salaried family spy who has snapped up some greasy mor-
sels of scandal. Your eyes are glowing with malicious pleasure, as
they always do when you are about to commit some base trick.
Now, then, out with it ! Of whom will you speak?"
"Of the Princess Amelia and Trenck, " whispered Pollnitz.
The king gazed at him fiercely for a moment, then turned and
walked silently backward and forward.
"Well, what is your narrative?" said Frederick, at last, turning
his back upon Pollnitz, and stepping to the window as if to look out.
"Sire, if your majesty does not interfere, the Princess Amelia
will send a negotiator to Vienna, who undertakes to induce the
Empress Maria Theresa to apply to you for the release of Trenck.
This negotiator is richly provided with gold and instructions ; and
the Austrian ambassador has pointed out to the princess a sure way
to reach the ear of the empress, and to obtain an intercessor with
her. She will appeal to the fireman of the empress, and this influ-
ential man will undertake to entreat Maria Theresa to ask for
Trenck's release. This will take place immediately ; an hour since
the messenger received his instructions from General Riedt, and a
quarter of an hour since he received four thousand louis d'or from
the princess to bribe the fireman. If the intrigue succeeds, the
princess has promised him a thousand louis d'or for himself."
"Go on," said the king, as Pollnitz ceased speaking.
"Go on!" said Pollnitz, with a stupefied air. "I have nothing
more to say ; it seems to me the history is sufficiently important. "
" And it seems to me a silly fairy tale, " said Frederick, turning
THE ROYAL HOUSE-SPY. 51?
angrily upon the grand-master. "If you think to squeeze gold out
of me by such ridiculous and senseless narratives, you are greatly
mistaken. Not one farthing will I pay for these lies. Do you
think that Austria lies on the borders of Tartary ? There, a barber
is minister ; and you, forsooth, will make a fireman the confidential
friend of the empress ! Why, Scheherezade would not have dared
to relate such an absurd fairy tale to her sleepy sultan, as you, sir,
now seek to impose upon me !"
" But, sire, it is no fairy tale, but the unvarnished truth. The
page of the princess listened, and immediately repeated all that he
heard to me. "
"Have you paid the page for this intelligence, which he asserts
he overheard?"
"No, sire."
"Then go quickly to Berlin and reward him by two sound boxes
on the ear, then go to bed and drink chamomile tea. It appears to
me your head is weak."
" But, sire, I have told you nothing but the pure truth ; no matter
how fabulous it may appear. "
Frederick gazed at him scornfully. " It is a silly tale, " he cried,
in a loud commanding voice. " Do not say another word, and do
not dare to repeat to any one what you have now related. Go, I
say I and forget this nonsense. "
Pollnitz crept sighing and with bowed head to the door, but, be-
fore he opened it, he turned once more to the king.
" Sire, this is the last day of the month, this wretched October
has thirty one days. Even if in your majesty's wisdom you decide
this story to be untrue, you should at least remember my zeal. "
"I should reward you for your zeal in doing evil?" said Fred-
erick, shaking his head. " But truly this is the way of the world ;
evil is rewarded and good actions trodden under foot. You are not
worth a kick ! Go and get your reward ; tell my servant to give you
ten Fredericks d'or but on one condition."
"What condition?" said Pollnitz, joyfully.
"As soon as you arrive in Berlin, go to the castle, call the page of
the princess, and box him soundly for his villany. Go !"
The king stood sunk in deep thought in the window-niche, long
after Pollnitz had left the room ; he appeared to forget that his
ministers were waiting for him ; he thought of his sister Amelia's
long, sad life, of her constancy and resignation, and a profound and
painful pity filled his heart.
" Surely I dare at length grant her the poor consolation of having
brought about his release, " said he to himself. " She has been so
long and so terribly punished for this unhappy passion, that I will
518 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
give her the consolation of plucking a few scentless blossoms from the
grave of her heart. Let her turn to the fireman of the empress, and
may my pious aunt be warmed up by his representations and prayers !
I will not interfere ; and if Maria Theresa intercedes for Trenck, I
will not remember that he is a rebellious subject and a traitor,
worthy of death. I will remember that Amelia has suffered inex-
pressibly for his sake, that her life is lonely and desolate a horrible
night, in which one feeble ray of sunshine may surely be allowed to
fall. Poor Amelia ! she loves him still !"
As Frederick stepped from the window and passed into the other
room, he murmured to himself :
"There is something beautiful in a great, rich human heart.
Better to die of grief and disappointment than to be made insensi-
ble by scorn and disdain to be turned to stone !"
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CLOUDS GATHER.
WHILE the king lived alone and quiet in Sans-Souci, and occu-
pied himself with his studies and his government, the gayeties and
festivities continued uninterrupted in Rheinsberg. It seemed that
Prince Henry had no other thought, no other desire than to prepare
new pleasures, new amusements for his wife. His life had been
given up for so many years to earnest cares, that he now sought to
indemnify himself by an eager pursuit after pleasure. Fete suc-
ceeded fete, and all of the most elegant and accomplished persons in
Berlin, all those who had any claim to youth, beauty, and amia-
bility, were invariably welcome at the palace of the prince.
It was late in the autumn, and Prince Henry had determined to
conclude the long succession of wood and garden parties by a singu-
lar and fantastic entertainment. Before they returned to the sa-
loons, the winter-quarters of pleasure, they wished to bid farewell
to Nature. The nymphs of the wood and the spring, the hamadryads
of the forests, the fauns and satyrs should reign once more in the
woods before they placed the sceptre in the hands of winter. The
guests of Rheinsberg should once more enjoy the careless gayety of
a happy day, before they returned to the winter saloons, on whose
threshold Etiquette awaited them, with her forced smile, her robes
of ceremony and her orders and titles.
The ladies and gentlemen had been transformed, therefore, into
gods and goddesses, nymphs, and hamadryads, fauns, satyrs, and
wood-spirits. The horn of Diana resounded once more in the wood,
THE CLOUDS GATHER. 519
through which the enchanting huntress passed, accompanied by
Endymion, who was pursued by Actoeon. There was Apollo and
the charming Daphne ; Echo and the vain Narcissus ; and, on the
bank of the lake, which gleamed in the midst of the forest, the
water-nymphs danced in a fairy-circle with the tritons.
The prince had himself made all the arrangements for this fan-
tastic fete; he had selected the character, and appointed the place of
every one, and, that nothing should fail, he had ordered all to seek
their pleasures and adventures as they would only, when the horn
of the goddess Diana should sound, all must appear on the shore of
the lake to partake of a most luxurious meal. The remainder of the
day was to be given to the voluntary pleasures which each one would
seek or make for himself, and in this the ladies and gentlemen
showed themselves more ingenious than usual. In every direction
goddesses were to be seen gliding through the bushes to escape the
snares of some god, or seeking some agreeable rendezvous. At the
edge of the lake lay charming gondolas ready for those who wished
to rest and refresh themselves by a sail upon the dancing waves.
For the hunters and huntresses targets were placed upon the trees ;
all kinds of fire-arms and cross-bows and arrows lay near them.
Scattered throughout the forest, were a number of small huts, en-
tirely covered with the bark of trees, and looking like a mass of
fallen wood, but comfortably and even elegantly arranged in the
interior. Every one of these huts was numbered, and at the begin-
ning of the fete every lady had drawn a number from an urn, which
was to designate the hut which belonged to her. Chance alone had
decided, and each one had given her word not to betray the number
of her cabin. From this arose a seeking and spying, a following
and listening, which gave a peculiar charm to the fete. Every
nymph or goddess could find a refuge in her cabin ; having entered
it, it was only necessary to display the ivy wreath, which she found
within, to protect herself from any further pursuit, for this wreath
announced to all that the mistress of the hut had retired within and
did not wish her solitude disturbed. That nothing might mar the
harmony of this fete, the prince and his wife had placed themselves
on an equal footing with their guests ; the princess had declined
any conspicuous rdle, and was to appear in the simple but charming
costume of a wood-nymph, while the prince had selected an ideal
and fanciful hunter's costume. Even in the selection of huts the
Princess Wilhelmina had refused to make any choice, and had
drawn her number as the others did, even refusing a glimpse of it to
her husband.
This day seemed given up to joy and pleasure. Every counte-
nance was bright and smiling, and the wood resounded with merry
520 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
laughter, with the tones of the hunter's horn, the baying of the
hounds, which were in Diana's train, and the singing of sweet
songs. And still on how many faces the smile was assumed, how
many sighs arose, with how many cares and sorrows were many of
these apparently happy creatures weighed down? Even the noble
braw of the goddess Diana was not so unruffled as Homer describes
it, her countenance expressed care and unrest, and in her great
black eyes there glowed such fire as had never shone in the orbs of
the coy goddess.
See, there is the goddess Diana crossing the wood breathlessly,
and hurriedly, looking anxiously around her, as if she feared the
approach of some pursuers ; then seeing that no one is near, she
hastens forward toward the hut, which stands amidst those bushes.
The ivy wreath is hanging before this cabin, but Diana does not
notice this, she knows what it means and, besides, no one has a
right to enter this hut but herself, for it bears the number which
she drew.
As she entered, Endymion, the beautiful hunter, advanced to
greet her. "At length you have come, Camilla," he whispered,
gently ; " at length you grant me the happiness of a private inter-
view. Oh, it is an eternity since I beheld you. You are very cruel
to me to refuse me all intercourse with you, and to leave me lan-
guishing in the distance for one glance from you. "
" As if it depended on me to allow you to approach me. As if I
was not guarded with argus eyes as a prisoner that is expected to
break loose and vanish at any moment. How much trouble, how
much cunning and deftness have I been compelled to exercise to
come here now. It was a detestable idea of the princess to give me
the rdle of Diana, for I have behind me a band of spies, and I assure
you that my coy huntresses are so fearfully modest, that the sight of
a man fills them with dread, and they flee before him into the wild-
est thicket of the woods. "
" Perhaps because they have a lover concealed in the thicket, "
said Endymion.
Camilla laughed aloud. " Perhaps you are right. But when my
huntresses fly, there still remains that horrible argus who guards
me with his thousand eyes and never leaves my side. It was from
pure malice that the prince gave that role to my detestable step-
father, and thus fastened him upon me. "
"How did you succeed in escaping the watchfulness of your
argus to come here ?"
"I escaped at the moment the princess was speaking to him, and
my huntresses were pursuing Acteeon, which character the Baron
von Kaphengst was representing with much humor. I wanted to
THE CLOUDS GATHER. 521
spoak with you, for I have so much to relate to you. I must open
to you my broken, my unhappy heart. You are my dear, faithful
cousin Kindar, and I hope you will not leave your poor cousin, but
give her counsel and assistance."
Baron von Kindar took Camilla's offered hand and pressed it to
his lips. " Count upon me as upon your faithful slave, who would
gladly die for you, as he cannot live for your sake. "
" Listen then, beau cousin, " whispered Camilla, smiling. " You
know that my stern, upright husband has left Berlin in order
to receive the post of an ambassador at Copenhagen. I would not
accompany him because I was daily expecting the birth of my child,
and the little creature was so sensible as not to enter the world until
after the departure of its honored father, who, before leaving, had
delivered me a lecture on the subject of his fidelity and tenderness,
and of my duties as a lonely wife and young mother. I was com-
pelled to swear to him among other things that I would not receive
my beau cousin at my house. "
" And you took that oath ?" interrupted Kindar, reproachfully
" I was forced to do so, or he would not have gone, or he would
have taken me with him. Besides this, he left behind his old con-
fidant the tutor, and told him that you should never be allowed to
visit me. And to place the crown upon his jealousy, he betrayed
the secret of his suspicions to my stepfather, and demanded of him
the friendly service of accompanying me to all fetes and balls, and
to prevent you from approaching me. "
"Am I then so dangerous?" said Kindar, with a faint smile.
"These gentlemen at least appear to think so ; and if I did not
care so much for you, I should really hate you, I have suffered so
much on your account. "
Baron von Kindar covered her hand with burning kisses for an
answer to this.
" Be reasonable, beau cousin, and listen to me, " said Camilla, as
she laughingly withdrew her hand. "My husband has been, as I
said, in Copenhagen for eight weeks, and has already entreated me
to join him with the child, as I have entirely recovered."
" The barbarian !" murmured Kindar.
" I have declined up to this time under one pretext or another.
But yesterday I receieved a lettr from my husband, in which he
no longer entreats me, but dares, as he himself expresses it, to
command me to leave Berlin two days after the receipt of his
letter."
" But that is tyranny which passes all bounds, " cried Kindar.
"Does this wise lord think that his wife must obey him as a
slave? Ah. Camilla, you owe it to yourself to show him that you
34
522 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
are a free-born woman, whom no one dare command, not even a
husband. "
"How shall I show him that?" asked Camilla.
"By remaining here," whispered Kindar. "You dare not think
of leaving Berlin, for you know that the hour of your departure
would be the hour of my death. You know it, for you have long
known that I love you entirely, and that you owe me some recom-
pense for the cruel pain I suffered when you married another. "
"And in what shall this recompense consist?" asked Camilla
with a coquettish smile.
Baron von Kindar placing his arm around her, whispered : " By
remaining here, adored Camilla, for my sake in declaring to your
hated husband that you will leave Berlin on no account that your
honor demands that you should prove to him in the face of his brutal
commands, that these are no commands for you and that you will
follow your own will and inclination. Therefore you will remain
in Berlin. "
"Will you write this letter for me?"
*' If I do so, will you consent to remain here, and to open your
door to me in spite of the orders of your husband, or the argus-eyes
of your stepfather?"
"Write the letter, the rest will arrange itself," said Camilla.
"I will write it to-night. May I bring it to you myself to-mor-
row morning?"
" If I say no, will you then be so kind as to give it to my maid?"
"I swear by my honor that I will only give the letter into your
own hands. "
" Well, then, my tyrannical cousin, you force me to open my door
to you in spite of my husband and my stepfather, and in the face of
this Cerberus of a tutor who guards my stronghold. "
" But what do I care for these open doors so long as your heart
remains closed against me, Camilla? Ah, you laugh you mock at
my sufferings. Have you no pity, no mercy? You see what I
suffer, and you laugh. "
" I laugh, " she whispered, " because you are so silly, beau cousin.
But listen, there is the call of my huntresses I must hasten to
them, or they will surround this cabin and they might enter. Fare-
well. To-morrow I will expect you with the letter. Adieu."
Throwing him a kiss with the tips of her fingers, she hastily left
the hut.
Baron von Kindar looked after her with a singular smile. " She
is mine, " he whispered. " We will have a charming little romance,
but it will terminate in a divorce, and not in a marriage. I have
no idea of following up this divorce by a marriage. God protect
THE CLOUDS GATHER. 523
me from being forced to marry this beautiful, frivolous, coquettish
woman. "
While this scene was taking place in one part of the forest, the
fte continued gayly. They sang and laughed, and jested, and no
one dreamed that dark sin was casting its cold shadow over this
bright scene that the cowardly crime of treachery had already poi-
soned the pure air of this forest. None suspected it less than Prince
Henry himself. He was happy and content that this fete had suc-
ceeded so well that this bright autumn day had come opportunely
to his aid. The sun penetrated to his heart and made it warm and
joyous. He had just made a little tour through the forest with some
of his cavaliers, and had returned to the tent on the bank of the
lake, where he had last seen the princess amid a bevy of nymphs,
but she was no longer there, and none of the ladies knew where she
had gone.
" She has retired to her hut, " said the prince to himself, as he
turned smilingly toward the thick woods. "The only thing is to
discover her hut ; without doubt she is there and expects me to seek
her. Now, then, may fortune assist me to discover my beloved. I
must find her if only to prove to her that my love can overcome all
difficulties and penetrate every mystery. There are twenty four
huts I know their situation. I will visit each, and it will be
strange indeed if I cannot discover my beautiful Wilhelmina. "
He advanced with hasty steps in the direction of the huts. By
a singular coincidence they were all vacant, the ivy wreath was dis-
played on none, and the prince could enter and convince himself
that no one was within. He had visited twenty-three of the huts
without finding the object of his search. " I will go to the last one, "
said the prince, gayly ; "perhaps the gods have led me astray only
that I might find happiness at the end of my path." He saw the
last hut in the distance. It nestled in the midst of low bushes,
looking quiet and undisturbed, and on the door hung the ivy wreath.
The heart of the prince beat with joy, and he murmured, " She is
there I have found her, " as he hastened toward the hut. " No, " he
said, "I dare not surprise her. I must consider the law sacred
which I made. The ivy wreath is before the door no one dare
enter. But I will lie down before the door, and when she conies
out she must cross my body or fall into my arms. " The prince ap-
proached the hut quietly, careful to avoid making any noise.
When he had reached it, he sank slowly upon the grass, and turned
his eyes upon the door, which concealed his beloved one from his
view.
Deep silence reigned. This was a charming spot, just suited for
a tender rendezvous, and full of thnt sweet silence which speaks so
524 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
eloquently to a loving heart. In the distance could be heard the
sound of the hunter's horn, whilst the great trees rustled their leaves
as though they wished to mingle their notes in the universal anthem.
The prince gave himself up for a long time to the sweet pleasures of
this solitude, turning his smiling glance first to the heavens where
a few white clouds were floating, and then again to earth, where
some glittering insect attracted his gaze.
But what was it which pierced through him with a deadly horror
which made him become so pale, and turn his flashing eyes with
an indescribable expression of dread toward the hut? Why did he
partially arise from his reclining position as the hunter does, who
sees the prey approach that he wishes to destroy? What was it that
made him press his lips so tightly, one against the other, as if he
would repress a cry of agony, or an execration? And why does he
listen now with bated breath, his gaze fixed upon the hut, and both
hands raised, as if to threaten an approaching enemy ? Suddenly
he sprang up, and rushed trembling to the door, and, while in the
act of bursting it open, he fell back, pale as death, as if his foot had
trodden upon a poisonous serpent. Thus retreating, with wildly
staring eyes, with half-open lips, which seemed stiffened in the very
act of uttering a shriek, he slowly left the hut, and then suddenly,
as if he could no longer look at any thing so frightful, he turned and
fled from the spot as if pursued by furies. Farther, always farther,
until his strength and his breath were exhausted ; then he sank
down.
" It was cowardly to fly, " he murmured ; " but I felt that I should
murder them, if they came out of the hut before my eyes. A voice
within whispered, 'Fly, or you will be a murderer!' I obeyed it
almost against my will. It was cowardly an unpardonable error,
but I will return to the hut. "
He sprang forward like a tiger, ready to fall upon his prey. His
hand involuntarily sought his side for his sword.
" Ah, I have no weapon, " he said, gnashing his teeth, " I must
murder them with my hands. "
He advanced with uplifted head, defiant as a conqueror, or as
one who has overcome death and has nothing to fear. The hut was
again before him, but it no longer smiled at him ; it filled him with
horror and fury. Now he has reached it, and with one blow he
bursts open the door ; but it is empty. The prince had not remarked
that the ivy-wreath was no longer displayed, and that the hut was
therefore vacant.
"They are gone," he murmured. "This time they have escaped
punishment, but it surely awaits them. "
BROTHER AND SISTER. 525
CHAPTER IX.
BROTHER AND SISTER.
A MONTH had passed since Amelia dispatched her emissary to the
queen's fireman, and she had as yet received no definite intelli-
gence. General Riedt had called but once ; he told her he had suc-
ceeded in interesting the Savoyard in Trenck's fate, and he had
promised to remind the empress of the unfortunate prisoner. But a
condition must be attached to this promise : no one must approach
him again on this subject ; it must be kept an inviolable secret.
Only when Trenck was free would the fireman receive the other
half of the stipulated sum ; if he failed in his attempt, he would
return the money he now held.
This was all that the princess had heard from Vienna ; her heart
was sorrowful almost hopeless. Trenck still sat in his wretched
prison at Magdeburg, and she scarcely dared hope for his release.
It was a dark, tempestuous November day. The princess stood
at the window, gazing at the whirling snow-flakes, and listening to
the howling of the pitiless storm. They sounded to her like the
raging shrieks of mocking, contending spirits, and filled her heart
with malignant joy.
" Many ships will go down to destruction in the roaring sea ;
many men will lose all that they possess, " she murmured, with a
coarse laugh. " God sends His favorite daughter, the bride of the
winds ; she sings a derisive song to men ; she shows them how
weak, how pitiful they are. She sweeps away their possessions
touches them on that point where alone they are sensitive. I re-
joice in the howling, whistling tempest ! This is the voice of the
great world-spirit, dashing by in the thunder, and making the cow-
ardly hearts of men tremble. They deserve this punishment ; they
are utterly unworthy and contemptible. I hate, I despise them all !
Only when I see them suffer can I be reconciled to them. Aha !
the storm has seized a beautifully-dressed lady. How it whirls and
dashes her about ! Look how it lifts her robe, making rare sport of
her deceitful, affected modesty. Miserable, variegated butterfly
that you are, you think yourself a goddess of youth and beauty.
This wild tempest teaches you that you are but a poor, pitiful insect,
tossed about in the world like any other creeping thing a power-
less atom. The storm first takes possession of your clothes, now of
your costly hat. Wait, my lady, wait ! one day it will take your
heart ; it will be crushed and broken to pieces there will be none
to pity. The world laughs and mocks at the wretched. Misfortune
526 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
is the only disgrace which is never forgiven. You may be a thief,
a murderer, and you will be pardoned if you are adroit enough to
slip your head from the noose. Criminals are pitied and pardoned,
unfortunates never. Ah, this is a mad, gay world, and they are
fools who take it earnestly ; who do not laugh laugh even as
I do."
The princess laughed aloud if that could be called a laugh, from
which she shuddered back herself in terror.
"It is bitter cold here, "she said, shuddering; "I think I shall
never be warm again. I am always freezing, and this miserable
frost has turned my heart and soul to ice. I would like to know if
they will thaw in the grave?"
She stepped slowly from the window, and crept through the
large, empty room to the chimney, where a large wood-fire was
burning now flickering up in clear flames, now breaking into
glowing coals.
Amelia took the poker, and amused herself by dashing the coals
apart, and watching the flashing, dancing flames. The fire seemed
to embrace her whole figure, and threw a rosy shimmer over her
wan and fallen cheeks. She gazed deep down into the glowing
coals, and murmured broken, disconnected words. From time to
time a mocking smile trembled on her lips, then heavy sighs wrung
her breast. Was she perhaps telling the fire of the flames which
raged within her bosom? Was she perhaps a magician, who under-
stood the language of these mysterious tongues of flame, and
answered their burning questions? The hasty opening of the door
aroused her from her dreams, and a page entered and announced in
a loud voice " His majesty the king !"
Amelia bowed her head, and advanced slowly and with a stern
countenance to meet the king, who now appeared at the threshold.
"May I enter, my sister, or do you command me to withdraw?"
said Frederick, smiling.
" The king has no permission to ask, " said Amelia, earnestly ;
" he is everywhere lord and master. The doors of all other prisons
open before him, and so also do mine. "
Frederick nodded to the page to -leave the room and close the
door, then advanced eagerly to meet his sister. Giving her his hand ;
he led her to the divan, and seated himself beside her.
" You regard me then as a kind of jailer, " he said, in a gentle,
loving voice.
"Can a king be any thing but a jailer?" she said, roughly.
" Those who displease him, he arrests and casts into prison, and not
one of his subjects can be sure that he will not one day displease
him."
BROTHER AND SISTER. 527
" You, at least, my sister, have not this to fear, and yet you have
just called this your prison. "
" It is a prison, sire. "
"And am I, then, your jailer?"
"No, sire, life is my jailer."
"You are right, there, Amelia. Life is the universal jailer,
from whom death alone can release us. The world is a great prison,
and only fools think themselves free. But we are involuntarily
commencing an earnest, philosophical conversation. I come to you
to rest, to refresh myself ; to converse harmlessly and cheerfully, as
in our earlier and happier days. Tell me something, dear sister, of
your life, your occupations, and your friends?"
"That is easily done, and requires but few words," said Amelia,
hoarsely. " Of my life I have already told you all that can be said.
Life is my jailer, and I look longingly to death, who alone can re-
lease me. As to my well-being, there is nothing to say ; all is evil,
only evil continually. My occupations are monotonous, I am ever
asleep. Night and day I sleep and dream ; and why should I awake ?
I have nothing to hope, nothing to do. I am a superfluous piece of
furniture in this castle, and I know well you will all rejoice when I
am placed in the vault. I am an old maid, or, if you prefer it, I
am a wall-frog, who has nothing to do but creep into my hole, and,
when 1 have vitality enough, to spit my venom upon the passers-by.
As to my friends, I have nothing to relate ; I have no friends ! I
hate all mankind, and I am hated by all. I am especially on my
guard with those who pretend to love me ; I know that they are
deceitful and traitorous, that they are only actuated by selfish
Motives. "
" Poor sister, " said the king, sadly ; " how unhappy must you be
to speak thus ! Can I do nothing to alleviate your misfortune?"
Amelia laughed loudly and scornfully. "Forgive me. your maj-
esty, but your question reminds me of a merry fairy tale I have
just read of a cannibal who is in the act of devouring a young girl.
The poor child pleaded piteously for her life, naturally in vain. 'I
cannot, of course, give you your life, ' said the cannibal, 'but I will
gladly grant you any other wish of your heart. Think, then, quickly,
of what you most desire, and be assured I will fulfil your request. '
The pretty maiden, trembling with horror and despair, could not
collect her thoughts. Then, after a short pause, the cannibal said,
'I cannot wait; I am hungry! but in order to grant you a little
longer time to determine upon the favor you will ask, I will not, as
I am accustomed to do, devour the head first, I will commence with
the feet. ' So saying, he cut off the legs and ate them, and on cut-
ting off each limb he graciously asked the poor shuddering, whimper-
528 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ing being, 'Well, why do you not think? Is there, then, no favor
I can show you?' Confess now, sire, that this was a most magnani-
mous cannibal. "
Frederick laughed heartily, and appeared not to understand his
sister's double meaning.
" You are right, " said he ; " that is a merry fairy tale, and brings
the tears to my eyes I scarcely know whether from laughter or
weeping. Where did you read it, my sister?"
"The fire-spirits who spring up and down in the chimney so
lustily, related it to me. Oh, sire, these are merry sprites ; and
often in my solitude, when I am sitting in my arm-chair in the
chimney-corner, they nod to me, and chat freely of by-gone times,
and the days which are to come. "
" I fear they have not much that is cheerful or encouraging, cer-
tainly not much that is interesting to tell you, " said Frederick.
" To those who, like us, have passed the meridian of life, and are
going rapidly down-hill, the surroundings become ever duller and
more drear ; for us there are no more great and agreeable sur-
prises ; the farther they advance, the more lonely and desolate it
appears ; life has no more to offer, and they are glad at last to reach
the valley and lie down in quiet graves. But while we live and are
still wanderers, Amelia, we must not fold our hands in idleness ; we
must work and achieve. You also, my sister, must be active and
energetic ; an unusual opportunity is now offered you. The Abbess
of Quedlinberg is dead, and you can now enter upon her duties. "
" And your majesty thinks it is really a worthy vocation for me
to go to Quedlinberg and become the shepherdess of that fearful
flock of old maids who took refuge in a nunnery because no man
desired them? No, your majesty, do not send me to Quedlinberg;
it is not my calling to build up the worthy nuns into saints of the
Most High. I am too unsanctified myself to be an example to them,
and, in fact, I feel no inclination to purify them from their sins. "
"Well, that might be found a difficult task," said the king,
laughing, " and it would not make you beloved. Men love nothing
so much as their vices, and they hate those who would free them
from their cherished yoke. You can, however, remain in Berlin
and still accept this office, once so worthily filled by the lovely
Aurora of Konigsmark. King Augustus gave her, at least, with
this refuge, provided by his love, a rich widow's income ; and you
can now, Amelia, enjoy the fruit of that love which at one time
filled all Europe with admiration. The salary of the abbess amounts
to seventeen thousand thalers, and I think this addition to your
fortune will be welcome. Your income will now be forty thousand
thalers. "
BROTHER AND SISTER. 529
"Lodging and fuel included," said Amelia, with a sarcastic
laugh. "Look you, sire, I see that I have nothing to complain of.
My hospital is splendidly endowed, and if I should ever become
miserly, I may be able to lay aside a few thalers yearly. "
" I will gladly put it in your power to lay aside a larger sum, if
you become covetous, " said the king ; " and I beg you, therefore, to
allow me the pleasure of raising your salary as princess, six thousand
thalers. " *
Amelia looked at him distrustfully. " You are very gracious to
me to-day, my brother. You grant favors before I ask them. I
confess to you this alarms and agitates me. You have perhaps some
bad news to disclose, and fearing I will be crushed by it, you desire,
beforehand, to apply a balsam."
The king's glance was tender and sympathetic. "Poor Amelia !
you will, then, never believe in my affection," said he, mildly.
" You distrust even your brother ! Oh, Amelia ! life has hardened
us both. We entered upon the stage of life with great but fleeting
illusions. How gloriously grand and beautiful did the world
appear to us ; now we look around us soberly, almost hopelessly !
What remains of our ideals? What has become of the dreams of
our youth?"
"The storm- winds have shattered and scattered them," cried
Amelia, laughing. " The evil fiend has ploughed over the fair soil
of your youth and turned it to stone and ashes. I am content that
this is so. I would rather wander amongst ruins and dust and ashes
than to walk gayly over a smooth surface with whose dark caves
and pitfalls I was unacquainted, and which might any day ingulf
me. When both foundation and superstructure lie in ruins at your
feet, you have nothing more to fear. But I say this for myself, sire,
not for you, the fame-crowned king, who has astonished the world
by his victories, and now fills it with admiration by the wisdom
with which he governs his subjects and advances the glory of his
kingdom !"
" My child, " said the king, mildly, " fame has no longer any at-
traction for me. Nero was also renowned ; he burned cities and
temples, and tortured Seneca to death. Erostratus succeeded in
making his name imperishable. I am utterly indifferent as to the
world's admiration of my wisdom and power to govern. I try to
do my duty as a king. But I tell you, child, in one little corner of
the king's heart there remains ever something human ; and the poor
creature man sometimes cries out for a little personal comfort and
happiness. One may be very rich as a king, but poor oh, how poor
as a man! Let us, however, dismiss these sad thoughts. Iwasspeak-
* Htetory of Berlin and Court.
530 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
ing to you of money, Amelia. We will return to this theme. I
cannot prevent your heart from suffering, but I can secure to you
every outward good. Your income, until now, has been small ; tell
me what debts you have contracted, and I will pay them !"
"Your majesty falls into my room like a shower of gold," cried
Amelia ; " you will find no Danse here, only an ugly old maid, who
is, however, ready to receive the glittering treasure ; but you give me
credit for too good a memory when you think I know the amount of
my debts. I only know the sum now in my casket. "
"And what is the amount, Amelia?"
" A cipher, sire ; your majesty knows this is the end of the
month. "
" I know it, my sister ; and I therefore beg you to accept from me
to-day a small sum in advance. I dreamt last night that you had
recently been called upon to pay out four thousand louis d'or. This
dream was significant ; it seemed to me a suggestion to give you
this sum. I therefore sent, in your name, an order on my treasurer
for four thousand louis d'or."
Amelia looked at him and trembled with terror. " Do you know
the use to which I have applied this sum?" said she, breathlessly.
" My dream was silent on this point, " said Frederick, rising ; " it
only told me thau you needed this amount, nothing more. If I had
been curious, I might have asked your page, who has an acute ear,
and for whom no key-hole is too small. "
"Ah, he has betrayed me, then," murmured Amelia.
Frederick did not appear to hear her ; he took his hat, and offered
his sister his hand. Amelia did not see it ; she stood as if turned
to stone in the middle of the room, and as the king advanced toward
the door, she stepped slowly and mechanically after him.
Suddenly the king turned and looked at his sister.
"I had almost forgotten to tell you a piece of news," said he,
carelessly; "something which will perhaps interest you, Amelia.
Even at this moment a prisoner is being released from his cell and
restored to life and liberty. The Empress Maria Theresa, influenced
by her fireman, it is said, has appealed to me :
Princess Amelia uttered a heart-rending shriek, and rushing for-
ward she seized the arm of the king with both her trembling hands.
" Brother ! oh, brother, be merciful ! do not make cruel sport of
me. I acknowledge I appealed to the fireman of the empress. I
offered him four thousand louis d'or if he would intercede for
Trenck. I see that you know all ; I deny nothing. If I have com-
mitted a crime worthy of death, condemn me ; but do not inflict
such fearful tortures before my execution. Do not mock at my
great grief, but be pitiful. Look upon me ; brother ; look at my
BROTHER AND SISTER. 531
withered limbs, my deformed visage; is not my punishment suffi
cient? torture me no longer. You return me the sum of money I
sent to Vienna . does that mean that you have discovered and de-
stroyed my plot? Is this so, brother? Have you the heart to play
this cruel jest with me? Having thus made my last attempt fruit-
less, do you tell me in mockery that Trenck is free ?" She held the
arm of the king firmly, and half sinking to her knees, she looked up
at him breathlessly.
"No, Amelia," said Frederick, and his voice trembled with emo-
tion. " No, I have not that cruel courage. The hand of your clock
points now to twelve ; at this moment Trenck leaves Magdeburg in
a closed carriage, accompanied by two soldiers. To-morrow he
will reach Prague, and then he is free to go where he will, only not
in Prussia. Trenck is free. "
" Trenck is free !" repeated Amelia, with a shout of joy ; she
sprang from her knees, clasped the king in a close embrace, and
wept upon his bosom such tears as she had not shed for many long
years tears of holy happiness, of rapture inexpressible ; then sud-
denly releasing him, she ran rapidly about the room, in the midst
of bitter weeping breaking out into loud ringing laughter, a laugh
which rung so fresh, so joyous, it seemed an echo from her far-off
happy childhood. " Trenck is free ! free !" repeated she again ; "and,
oh, unspeakable happiness ! I obtained him his liberty ! ah, no,
not I, but a poor Savoyard who wished a dower for his daughter. Oh,
ye great ones of the earth, speak no more of your glory and power,
a poor Savoyard was mightier than you all ! But no, no ; what have
I said? you, my brother, you have released him. To you Trenck
owes his life and liberty. I thank you that these fearful chains,
which held my soul in bondage, have fallen apart. Once more I
breathe freely, without the appalling consciousness that every breath
I draw finds this echo in a cavern of the earth. You have released
me from bondage, oh, my brother, and henceforth I will love you
with all the strength of my being. Yes, I will lore you, " cried she,
eagerly ; "I will cling to you with unchanging constancy ; you will
ever find in me a faithful ally. I can be useful. I cannot act, but
I can listen and watch. I will be your spy. I will tell you all I
see. I will read all hearts and make known to you their thoughts.
Even now I have something to disclose ; do not trust your brothers.
Above all others put no faith in Prince Henry ; he hates you with a
perfect hatred for the sake of Augustus William, who, he says, died
of your contempt and cruelty. Trust him in nothing ; he is ambi-
tious, he envies you your throne ; he hates me also, and calls me
always 'Lafeemalfaisant.' He shall be justified in this! I will
be for him La fee malfaisant. I will revenge myself for this hatred.
532 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Without my help, however, he will soon be sufficiently punished.
His beautiful Wilhelmina will revenge me. "
She broke out in wild and convulsive laughter, and repeated
again and again in joyous tones, "Yes, yes, his beautiful Wilhel-
mina will punish him for calling me an old witch. "
The king shuddered at her mad laughter, and was oppressed by
her presence ; her mirth was sadder than her tears. He bade her a
silent adieu, and hastened away as if flying from a pestilence. The
princess did not detain him ; she had fallen upon a chair, and star-
ing immovably before her, she cried out : " Trenck is free ! Trenck
is free ! Life is his once more ! I must, I will live till I have seen
him once more. Then, when my poor eyes have looked upon him
yet once again, then I will die die !" *
Suddenly she sprang from her seat. "I must know Trenck 's
future ; I must draw his horoscope. I must question the cards as to
his destiny, and know whether happiness or misery lies before him.
Yes, I will summon my fortune-teller. There is a destiny which
shapes our ends."
CHAPTER X.
THE STOLEN CHILD.
IT was a dark, stormy December night. The long- deserted streets
of Berlin were covered with deep snow. By the glare of a small oil-
lamp affixed to a post, the tall form of a man, wrapped in a large
travelling -cloak, could be seen leaning against a wall ; he was gaz-
* This wish of the princess was fulfilled after the death of Frederick the Great.
Trenck received permission from his successor, Frederick William II., to return to
Berlin. He was graciously received at court; his first visit, even before he was an-
nounced to the king, was paid to the Princess Amelia. She received him in the same
room in which, forty-seven years before, they had passed so many happy hours.
Upon the same spot where, beautiful in youth and grace, they had once sworn eter-
nal love and faith, they now looked upon each other and sought in vain, in these
fallen and withered features, for any trace of those charms, which had once enrap-
tured them. Trenck remained many hours with her ; they had much to relate. He con-
fessed freely all the events of his fantastic and adventurous life. She listened with
a gentle smile, and forgave him for all his wanderings and all his sins. On taking leave
he promised the princess to bring his oldest daughter and present her, and Amelia
promised to be a mother to her. Death, however, prevented the f ulfilment of these
promises. It appeared as if this interview had exhausted her remaining strength.
In 1786, a few days after the meeting with Trenck, Amelia died. Trenck lived but a
few years; he went to France and died under the guillotine in 1793. As he sat with
his companions upon the car on their way to execution, he said to the gaping crowd:
u Eh bien, eh bien, de quoi vous emerveillez-vous? Ceci n'est qu'une comedie d la
Robespierre." These were Trenck's last words; a few moments afterward his head
fell under the guillotine.
THE STOLEN CHILD. 533
ing fixedly at the houses opposite him. The snow beat upon his
face, his limbs were stiff from the cold winter wind, his teeth
chattered, but he did not seem to feel it. His whole soul, his whole
being was filled with one thought, one desire. What mattered it
to him if he suffered, if he died? As a dark shadow appeared at
the opposite door, life and energy once more came back to the stoic.
He crossed the street hastily.
"Well, doctor," said he, eagerly, "what have you discovered?"
" It is as your servant informed you, my lord. Your wife, Lady
Elliot, is not at home. She is at a ball at Count Verther's, and will
net return till after midnight."
"But my child? my daughter?" said Lord Elliot, in a trembling
voice.
" She, of course, is at home, my lord. She is in the chamber ad-
joining your former sleeping apartment. No one but the nurse is
with her. "
" It is well I thank you, doctor. All I now require of you is to
send my valet, whom I sent to your house after me, with my bag-
gage. Farewell !"
He was rushing away, but the doctor detained him.
" My lord, " said he, in a low and imploring voice, " consider the
matter once more before you act. Remember that you will thus
inform all Berlin of your unfortunate wedded life, and become sub-
ject to the jeers and laughter of the so-called nobility ; lowering the
tragedy of your house to a proverb. "
"Be it so, " said Lord Elliot, proudly, "I have nothing to fear.
The whole world knows that my honor is stained ; before the whole
world will I cleanse it. "
" But in doing so, my lord, you disgrace your wife. "
"Do you not think she justly deserves it?" said Lord Elliot,
harshly.
" But you should have pity on her youth. "
" Doctor, when one has suffered as I have, every feeling is extin-
guished from the heart but hatred. As I have not died of grief, I
shall live to revenge my sufferings. My determination is unaltera-
ble. I must and will tear my child from the bad influence of her
mother, then I will punish the guilty. "
" Consider once more, my lord wait this one night. You have
just arrived from a hasty, disagreeable journey ; you are excited,
your blood is in a fever heat, and now, without allowing j-ourself a
moment's rest, you wish to commence your sad work."
" I must have my child. You know that as it is a girl the mother
can dispute this right with me, for by the laws of this land in case
of divorce, the daughters are left to their mother. "
534 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
"You should endeavor to obtain her by kindness."
" And suppose that Camilla, not out of love to the ehild, but to
wound and torture me, should refuse me my daughter, what then?
Ah ! you are silent, doctor ; you see I cannot act otherwise. "
" I fear, my lord, you will have some trouble in getting the child.
Lady Elliot has lately changed all the servants engaged by you, not
one of them was allowed to remain. It is most likely that none of
the present servants know you, and therefore you will not be
obeyed. "
" My plans are all arranged, they shall not prevent me from ful-
filling them. "
"But if they refuse to let you enter?"
"Ah, but I shall not ask them, for I have the keys necessary to
enter my own house. When I left home, Camilla threw them
laughing and jesting into my trunk I now have them with me.
All your objections are confuted. Again, farewell. If you wish to
give me another token of your friendship, meet me at the depot in
an hour. I will be there with my child. "
He pressed the doctor's hand tightly, and then hurried into the
house. Noiselessly he mounted the steps. He now stood in front of
the large glass door leading to his dwelling ; he leaned for a mo-
ment against the door gasping for breath for a moment a shudder-
ing doubt overcame him ; he seemed to see the lovely countenance of
Camilla, bedewed with tears, imploring his mercy, his pity. "No,
no ! no pity, no mercy," he murmured ; "onward, onward !"
He drew forth a key, opened the door and closed it noiselessly
behind him. A bright lamp burned in the hall ; sounds of laughing
and merry-making could be heard from the servants' hall ; the cries
of a child, and the soft lullaby of a nurse from above. No one saw
or heard the dark form of their returned master pass slowly through
the hall. No one saw him enter his former sleeping apartments.
He was so conversant with the room that he found his way in the
dark without difficulty to his secretary. Taking from it a candle
and some matches, he soon had a bright light. He then glanced
sternly around the room. All was as usual, not a chair had been
moved since he left. Beneath the secretary were the scraps of let-
ters and papers he had torn up the day of his journey. Even the
book he had been reading that morning lay upon the table in front
of the sofa ; beside it stood the same silver candlesticks, with the
same half-burnt candles. It had all been untouched ; only he, the
master of the apartment, had been touched by the burning hand of
misfortune he alone was changed, transformed. He smiled bitterly
as his eye glanced at every object that formerly contributed to his
happiness. Then taking up the light, he approached the table upon
THE STOLEN CHILD. 535
which stood the two silver candlesticks ; lighting one after the
other, the large, deserted-looking chamber became illuminated,
bringing the pictures on the walls, the heavy satin curtains, the
handsome furniture, the tables covered with costly knick-knacks,
the large Japan vases, and a huge clock upon the mantel-piece, into
view. All bore a gay and festive appearance, much at variance
with the unfortunate man's feelings.
His glance had wandered everywhere. Not once, however, had
his eye strayed to two large pictures hanging on the left side of the
room. The one was of himself gay, smiling features, a bright
glance such as was never now seen upon his countenance. The
other was Camilla Camilla in her bridal robes, as beautiful and
lovely as a dream, with her glorious, child-like smile in which he
had so long believed for which, seeing in it the reflection of her
pure, innocent soul, she was so unspeakably dear to him. To these
two pictures he had completely turned his back, and was walking
sadly up and down the room. He now raised his head proudly, and
his countenance, which but a moment before had been sad and de-
jected, was now daring and energetic.
" It is time, " murmured he.
With a firm hand he grasped a bell lying upon the table. Its
loud, resounding ring disturbed the deep stillness that reigned
throughout the apartments, causing Lord EJ Hot's heart to tremble
with woe. But there was no noise all remained quiet. Lord
Elliot waited awhile, then opening the door passed into the hall.
Returning, he again rang the bell long and loudly. " They cannot
fail to hear me now, " said he.
Several doors were now opened by some of the servants, but their
terror was such that they retreated in haste, sJamming the doors
behind them.
Lord Elliot rang again. A servant now hastened forward ;
another soon followed ; a third door was opened from which sprang
a lively, trim-looking lady's maid. She was followed by the house-
girl. Even the cook rushed up the steps. All hurried forward to
a room which was generally kept locked, but which now stood
wide open. All gazed at the man standing there scanning them
with an earnest, commanding glance. They stood thus lost in won-
der for a moment, then Lord Elliot approached the door.
"Do you know me you, there?" said he.
"No, we do not know you," said the waiter, with some hesitation.
"We do not know you, and would like to know by what right '
"There is no question here of your likes or dislikes, but of the
orders you will receive from me. Do you know the picture next
to the one of your mistress?"
536 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" We have been told that it is our master, Lord Elliot. "
Lord Elliot advanced nearer the picture, and stood beneath it.
" Do you know me now ?" said he.
The servants examined him critically for a time, then whispered
and consulted together.
"Now do you know me?" repeated Lord Elliot.
"We think we have the honor of seeing his excellency, Lord
Elliot, " said the waiter.
"Yes, Lord Elliot," repeated the lady's-maid, the house-girl, and
the cook, bowing respectfully.
He ordered them to enter the room. Tremblingly they obeyed
him.
"Are these all the servants, or are there any more of you?" said
he.
" No one but the nurse, who is with the little lady, and the coach-
man who is in the stable. "
" That is right. Come nearer, all of you. "
As they obeyed, he closed and locked the door, dropping the key
in his pocket. The servants looked at him in wonder and terror,
hardly daring to breathe. Though they had never seen their mas-
ter, they knew by his stern, expressive countenance that something
remarkable was about to transpire. Like all other servants, they
were well acquainted with the secrets, the behavior of their em-
ployer. They were, therefore, convinced that their mistress was the
cause of their master's strange conduct.
" Do not dare to move from this spot do not make a sound, "
said Lord Elliot, taking a light and advancing to a second door.
" Remain here. If I need you I will call. " Throwing a last look at
the servants, Lord Elliot entered the adjoining room, drawing the
bolt quickly behind him.
" All is right now, " said he, softly. " None of them can fly to
warn Camilla to return. " Candle in hand, he passed through the
chamber, looking neither to right nor left. He wished to ignore
that he was now in Camilla's room, which was associated with so
many painfully sweet remembrances to him. He entered another
room he hurried through it. As he passed by the large bedstead
surrounded by heavy silk curtains, the candle in his hand shook, and
a deep groan escaped his breast. He now stood at the door of the
next chamber. He stopped for a moment to gain breath and cour-
age. With a hasty movement he threw open the door and entered.
His heart failed him when he beheld the peaceful scene before him.
A dark shady carpet covered the floor, simple green blinds hung at
the windows. There were no handsome paintings on the wall, no
glittering chandelier, no bright furniture, and still the apartment
THE STOLEN CHILD. 537
contained a \vondrous tenement, a great treasure. For in the
middle of the room stood a cradle, in the cradle lay his child, his
first-born the child of his love, of his lost happiness. He knew
by the great joy that overcame him, by the loud beating of his
heart, by the tears that welled to his eyes, that this was his child.
He prayed God to bless it he swore to love it faithfully to all eter-
nity. He at last found the strength to approach the little sleeping
being whose presence filled him with such wild joy.
The nurse sat by the cradle fast asleep. She did not see Lord
Elliot kneel beside the cradle and look tenderly at the sleeping face
of her nursling she did not see him kiss the child, then lay its
little hands upon his own bowed head as if he needed his little
daughter's blessing to strengthen him. But all at once she was
shaken by a strong hand, and a loud, commanding voice ordered
her to wake up, to open her eyes. She sprang from her chair in
terror she had had a bad dream. But there still stood the strange
man, saying in a stern voice, " Get up and prepare to leave here at
once with me. "
She wished to cry for help, but as she opened her mouth, he
threw his strong arm around her. " If you make a sound, I take the
child and leave you here alone. I have the right to command here
I am the father of this child."
" Lord Elliot !" cried the nurse, in amazement.
Lord Elliot smiled. This involuntary recognition of his right
did him good and softened him.
" Fear nothing, " said he, kindly, " no harm shall happen to you.
I take you and the child. If you love and are kind to it, you
shall receive from me a pension for life ; from to-day your wages
are doubled. For this I demand nothing, but that you should col-
lect at once the necessary articles of clothing of this child, and put
them together. If you are ready in fifteen minutes, I will give you
this gold piece. "
He looked at his watch, and took from his purse a gold piece,
which lent wings to the stout feet of the nurse.
"Is all you need in here?" said he.
Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he took his light and left
the chamber. Before leaving, however, he locked another door
leading into the hall, so as to prevent the possible escape of the
nurse.
As he entered Camilla's boudoir his countenance became dark
and stern ; every gentle and tender feeling that his child had aroused
now fled from his heart. He was now the insulted husband, the
man whose honor was wounded in its most sensitive point who
came to punish, to revenge, to seek the proofs of the guilt he SUB-
35
538 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
pected. He placed the light upon the table, and opened his wife's
portfolio to seek for the key of her drawer, which was generally
kept there. It was in its usual place. Lord Elliot shuddered as he
touched it ; it felt like burning fire in his hand.
" It is the key to my grave, " murmred he.
With a firm hand he put the key in the lock, opened the drawer,
and drew out the letters and papers it contained. There were his
own letters, the letters of love and tenderness he had sent her from
Copenhagen ; among them he found others full of passionate proofs
of the criminal and unholy love he had come to punish. Camilla
had not had the delicacy to separate her husband's from her lover's
letters ; she had carelessly thrown them in the same drawer. As
Lord Elliot saw this he laughed aloud, a feeling of inexpressible
contempt overpowered his soul and deadened his pain. He could
not continue to love one who had not only been faithless to him, but
wanting in delicacy to the partner of her sin.
Lord Elliot read but one of the beau cousin's letters, then threw
it carelessly aside. He did not care to read more of the silly speeches,
the guilty protestations of constancy of her insipid lover. He
searched but for one letter ; he wished to find the original of the last
one Camilla had written to him, for he knew her too well to give
her credit for the composition of that cold, sneering, determined
letter. He wished, therefore, to find the author, whose every word
had pierced his soul like a dagger, driving him at first almost to
madness.
A wild, triumphant cry now escaped from him, resounding fear-
fully in the solitary chambers. He had found it ! The letter was
clutched tightly in his trembling hands as he read the first lines.
It was in the same hand as the others, it was the writing of his rival,
Von Kindar, her beau cousin.
Lord Elliot folded the paper carefully and hid it in his bosom;
then throwing the others into the drawer, he locked it, placing the
key in the portfolio.
" It is well, " said he, " I have now all I need. This letter is his
death-warrant. "
He took the light and left the room. Fifteen minutes had just
elapsed when he entered his daughter's chamber. The nurse ad-
vanced to meet him, the child and a bundle of clothes in her arms,
and received the promised gold piece.
" Now, we must hasten, " said he, stepping into the hall.
They passed silently through the house, down the steps, and into
the court-yard. Lord Elliot walked hastily on, followed by the won-
dering nurse. He stopped at the stable door, calling loudly upon the
coachman to get up and prepare the horses. At twelve o'clock the
THE STOLEN CHILD. 539
coachman was to go for his mistress ; he was therefore dressed, and
had only laid down for a short nap.
" Put the horses to the carriage, " repeated Lord Elliot.
The coachman, raising his lamp, threw a full glare of light upon
the stranger.
" I do not know you, " said he, roughly ; " I receive orders from
no one but my mistress. "
For answer, Lord Elliot drew from his breast a pocket pistol.
" If you are not ready in five minutes, I will shoot you through
the head, " said Lord Elliot, quietly, tapping the trigger.
"For God's sake, obey him, John," cried the nurse; "it is his
excellency Lord Elliot !"
In five minutes the carriage was ready, owing much more to the
loaded pistol still in Lord Elliot's hand than to the conviction that
this strange, angry-looking man was his master.
" To the depot !" cried Lord Elliot, placing the child and nurse in
the carriage, then jumping in after them " to the depot in all haste !"
They reached the building in a few minutes. There stood the
horses in readiness, and beside them Lord Elliot's servant, with his
baggage. He sprang from the carriage, and, giving the coachman
a douceur, ordered him to loosen the horses and return home with
them.
" But, your honor, " stammered the mystified coachman, " how
am I to call for my lady if you take the carriage?"
" My lady can wait, " said Lord Elliot, jeeringly. " If she re-
proaches you, tell her that Lord Elliot wishes to be remembered to
her ; that he will return in eight days with her carriage. "
" But she will dismiss me from her service, my lord. "
" Wait patiently for eight days, and then you shall enter mine.
And now, away with you !"
The coachman dared not answer, and soon disappeared with his
horses.
The fresh horses were put to the carriage, the servant swung him-
self up to his seat ; Lord Elliot stood in front of the carriage with
his friend Dr. Blitz.
"All has happened as I desired," said he. "I take my child
away with me, and, with God's will, she shall never know but that
death deprived her of her mother. Poor child ! she has no mother,
but I will love her with all the strength of a father, all the tender-
ness of a mother, and I have a noble sister who will guard and
watch over her. She awaits me at Kiel. I accompany my child so
far, but as soon as she is in the faithful hands of my sister, as soon
as I have placed them upon the ship sailing for Copenhagen, I return
here. "
540 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY,
"Why should you return, my lord?" said the doctor, in terror.
"Is it not sufficient that you have deprived the mother of her child'
that you have branded the woman with shame before the whole
world ? What more would you do, my lord ?"
With a strange smile, Lord Elliot laid his hand upon the doctor's
shoulder.
" Flows there milk instead of blood in your veins, man ? or have
you forgotten that I have been hit by a poisoned arrow ? I must be
revenged, if I would not die of this wound. "
"Let your wounds bleed, my lord the longer they bleed, the
sooner they will heal. But why destroy the arrow that wounded
you? Will you recover the sooner or suffer the less?"
"Again I ask you, is there milk instead of blood in your veins?
My honor is stained I must cleanse it with the blood of my enemy. "
" A duel, then, my lord ? You will suffer chance to decide your
most holy and sacred interests your honor and life? And if chance
is against you ? If you fall, instead of your adversary ?"
" Then, my friend, God will have decided it, and I shall thank
Him for relieving me from a life which will from henceforth be a
heavy burden to me. Farewell, doctor. I will be with you in eight
days, and will again need your assistance. "
"It is then irrevocable, my lord?"
"Irrevocable, doctor."
" I shall be ready. God grant that if this sad drama is to end in
blood, it may not be yours !"
They pressed each other's hands tenderly. Lord Elliot sprang
into the carriage, the coachman whipped his horses, and the car-
riage in which were the unfortunate man and the stolen child rolled
merrily along the deserted streets .
CHAPTER XI.
THE DISCOVERY.
PRINCE HENRY stood at the window and looked down into the
garden. He saw his wife walking in the park with her ladies, and
enjoying the clear, cool winter day ; he heard their gay and merry
laughter, but he felt no wish to join them and share their mirth.
Since that day in the wood, a change had come upon the prince
a dark, despairing, melancholy had taken possession of him, but
he would not let it be seen ; he forced himself to a noisy gayety,
and in the presence of his wife he was the same tender, devoted,
complaisant lover he had been before ; but the mask under which he
THE DISCOVERY. 541
concealed his dislike and scorn was a cruel torture and terrible
agony ; when he heard her laugh he felt as if a sharp dagger had
wounded him ; when he touched her hand, he could with difficulty
suppress a cry of pain ; but he conquered himself, and kept his grief
and jealousy down, down in his heart. It was possible he was mis-
taken. It was possible his wife was innocent ; that his friend was
true. His own heart wished this so earnestly ; his noble and great
soul rebelled at the thought of despising those whom he had once
loved and trusted so fully. He wished to believe that he had had a
hurtful dream ; that a momentary madness had darkened his brain ;
he would rather distrust all his reflections than to believe that this
woman, whom he had loved with all the strength of his nature, this
man whom he had confided in so entirely, had deceived and betrayed
him. It was too horrible to doubt the noblest and most beautiful,
the holiest and gentlest to be so confounded, so uncertain in his
best and purest feelings. He could not banish doubt from his heart ;
like a death- worm, it was gnawing day and night, destroying his
vitality poisoning every hour of the day, and even in his dreams
uttering horrible words of mockery. Since the fete in the wood he
had been observant, he had watched every glance, listened to every
word ; but he had discovered nothing. Both appeared unembarrassed
and innocent ; perhaps they dissembled ; perhaps they had seen him
as he lay before the hut, and knew that he had been since that day
following and observing them, and by their candor and simplicity
they would disarm his suspicions and lull his distrust to sleep.
This thought kept him ever on his guard ; he would, he must know
if he had been betrayed ; he must have absolute certainty. He
stood concealed behind the curtains of his window, and looked
down into the garden. His eyes were fixed with a glowing, con-
suming expression upon the princess, who, with one of her ladies,
now passed before his window and looked up, but she could not see
him ; he was completely hidden behind the heavy silk curtains.
The princess passed on, convinced that if her husband had been
in his room, he would have come forward to greet her.
The prince wished her to come to this conclusion. "Now,"
thought he, " she feels secure ; she does not suspect I am observing
her, at last I may find an opportunity to become convinced."
Count Kalkreuth was there ; he had gone down into the garden.
He advanced to meet the princess, they greeted each other, but in
their simple, accustomed manner, he, the count, respectfully and
ceremoniously the princess dignified, careless, and condescending.
And now they walked near each other, chatting, laughing, charm
ingly vivacious, and excited by their conversation.
The prince stood behind his curtain with a loudly -beating heart,
542 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
breathless from anxiety ; they came nearer ; she led the way to the
little lake whose smooth and frozen surface shone like a mirror.
The count pointed to the lake, and seemed to ask a question ; the
princess nodded affirmatively, and turning to her ladies, she spoke
a few words ; they bowed and withdrew.
" They are going to skate, " murmured the prince. " She has sent
her ladies to bring her skates ; she wishes to be alone with the
count. "
Breathless, almost in death-agony, he watched them ; they stood
on the borders of the lake, and talked quietly. The expressions of
their countenances were unchanged, calm, and friendly ; they were
certainly speaking of indifferent things. But what means that?
The princess dropped her handkerchief, seemingly by accident.
The count raised it and handed it to her ; she took it and thanked
him smilingly, then in a few moments she put her hand, with a
sudden movement, under her velvet mantle. The prince cried out ;
he had seen something white in her hand which she concealed in
her bosom.
"A letter! a letter!" crid he, in a heart-breaking tone, and like
a madman pursued by furies, he rushed out.
The Princess Wilhelmina was in the act of having her skates
fastened on by her maid, when Prince Henry advanced with hasty
steps from the alley which led to the lake.
Count Kalkreuth advanced to meet him, and greeted him with
gay, jesting words ; but the prince had no word of reply for him ; he
passed him silently, with a contemptuous glance, and stepped
directly in front of the princess, who looked up with a kindly smile.
He said :
" Madame, it is too cold and rough to skate to-day ; I will have
the honor to conduct you to your rooms. "
Princess "Wilhelmina laughed heartily. " It is a fresh, invigor-
ating winter day, my husband. If you are cold, it is not the fault
of the weather, but of your light clothing. I pray you to send for
your furs, and then we will run a race over the ice and become
warm. "
Prince Henry did not answer. He seized the arm of the princess
and placed it in his own. " Come, madame, I will conduct you to
your apartment. "
Wilhelmina gazed at him with astonishment, but she read in his
excited and angry countenance that she must not dare oppose him.
" Permit me, at least, to have my skates removed, " said she, shortly,
giving a sign to her maid. The prince stood near, while her maid
knelt before her and removed the skates. Count Kalkreuth was at
some distance.
THE DISCOVERY. 543
Not one word interrupted the portentous silence. Once the
prince uttered a hasty and scornful exclamation. He had inter-
cepted a glance which the princess exchanged with Count Kalkreuth,
and a glance full of significance and meaning.
"What is the matter with you, prince?" said Wilhelmina.
" I am cold, " said he roughly, but the perspiration was standing
in large drops on his forehead.
When the skates were taken off, the prince drew his wife on
quickly, without a word or greeting to his friend. Kalkreuth stood
pale and immovable, and gazed thoughtfully upon the glittering ice.
" I fear he knows all, " murmured he. " Oh my God, my God ! Why
will not the earth open and swallow me up? I am a miserable,
guilty wretch, and in his presence I must cast my eyes with shame
to the ground. I have deceived, betrayed him, and yet I love him.
Woe is me !" He clasped his hands wildly over his face, as if he
would hide from daylight and the glad sun the blush of shame which
burned upon his cheeks ; then slowly, with head bowed down, he
left the garden.
The prince, during this time, had walked rapidly on with his
wife ; no word was exchanged between them. Only once, when he
felt her arm trembling, he turned and said harshly :
"Why do you tremble?"
"It is cold !" said she, monotonously.
" And yet, " said he, laughing derisively, "it is such lovely, in-
vigorating weather. "
They went onward silently ; they entered the castle and ascended
the steps to the apartment of the princess. Now they were in her
cabinet in this quiet, confidential family room, where Prince
Henry had passed so many happy hours with his beloved Wilhel-
mina. Now he stood before her, with a cold, contemptuous glance,
panting for breath, too agitated to speak.
The princess was pale as death ; unspeakable anguish was writ-
ten in her face. She dared not interrupt this fearful silence, and
appeared to be only occupied in arranging her toilet ; she took off
her hat and velvet mantle.
"Madame," said the prince at last, gasping at every word, "I am
here to make a request of you !"
Wilhelmina bowed coldly and ceremoniously. "You have only
to command, my husband !"
"Well, then, "said he, no longer able to maintain his artificial
composure, " I .command you to show me the letter you have hidden
in your bosom."
"What letter, prince?" stammered she, stepping back alarmed.
"The letter which Count Kalkreuth gave you in the garden. Do
544 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
not utter a falsehood ; do not dare to deny it. I am not in a mood
to be restrained by any earthly consideration. "
As he stood thus, opposed to her, with flashing eyes, with trem-
bling lips, and his arm raised threateningly, Wilhelmina felt that it
would be dangerous, indeed impossible to make any opposition.
She knew that the decisive moment had arrived, the veil must be
lifted, and that deception was no longer possible.
"The letter ! give me the letter !" cried the prince, with a menac
ing voice.
Wilhelmina gazed at him steadily, with eyes full of scorn and
hatred.
u Here it is, " taking the letter calmly from her bosom, and hand-
ing it to the prince.
He snatched it like a tiger about to tear his prey to pieces ; but
when he had opened it and held it before him, the paper trembled
so in his hands, he was scarcely able to read it. Once he murmured :
"Ah ! he dares to say thou to you ; he calls you his 'adored Wilhel-
mina!'" He read on, groaning, sometimes crying out aloud, then
muttering wild imprecations.
The princess stood in front of him, pale as death, trembling in
every limb ; her teeth were chattering, and she was forced to lean
against her chair to keep from falling.
When the prince had finished reading the letter, he crushed it
and thrust it in his bosom, then fixed his eyes upon his wife with
an expression of such intense, unspeakable misery, that the princess
felt her heart moved to its profoundest depths.
" Oh, my husband, " she said, " curse me ! murder me ! but do not
look upon me thus. " She then sank as if pressed down by an invisi-
ble power, to her knees, and raised her hands to him imploringly.
The prince laughed coarsely, and stepped back. " Rise, madame, "
said he, " we are not acting a comedy it is only your husband who
is speaking with you. Rise, madame, and give me the key to your
secretary. You will understand that after having read this letter I
desire to see the others. As your husband, I have at least the right
to know how much confidence you have placed in your lover, and
how far you return his passion. "
" You despise me, " cried Wilhelmina, bursting into tears.
"I think I am justified in doing so," said he, coldly. "Stand
up, and give me the key. "
She rose and staggered to the table. " Here is the key. "
The prince opened the secretary. "Where are the letters,
madame?"
" In the upper drawer to the left. "
" Ah, " said he, with a rude laugh, " not even in a secret compart
THE DISCOVERY. 545
ment have you guarded these precious letters. You were so sure of
my blind confidence in you that you did not even conceal your
jewels. "
Princess Wilhelmina did riot answer, but as the prince read one
after the other of the letters, she sank again upon her knees. "My
God, my God!" murmured she, "have pity upon me! Send Thy
lightning and crush me. Oh, my God ! why will not the earth
cover me and hide me from his glance !"
Rivers of tears burst from her eyes, and raising her arms to
heaven, she uttered prayers of anguish and repentance.
The prince read on, on, in these unholy lettters. Once he ex-
claimed aloud, and rushed with the letter to the princess.
"Is this true?" said he " is this which you have written, true?"
"What? Is what true?" said Wilhelmina, rising slowly from
her knees.
" He thanks you in this letter for having written to him that you
have never loved any man but himself him Kalkreuth alone !
Did you write the truth?"
"I wrote it, and it is the truth," said,the princess, who had now
fully recovered her energy and her composure. "Yes, sir, I have
loved no one but Kalkreuth alone. I could not force my heart to
love you you who in the beginning disdained me, then one day in
an idle mood were pleased to love me, to offer me your favor. I
was no slave to be set aside when you were in the humor, and to
count myself blessed amongst women when you should find me
worthy of your high regard. I was a-free born woman, and as I
could not give my hand to him I loved, I gave my heart that heart
which you rejected. You have the right to kill me, but not to de-
spise me to dishonor me. "
"Do I dishonor you when I speak the truth?" cried the prince.
" You do not speak the truth. I have sinned heavily against you.
I suffered your love I could not return it. I had not the courage
when I saw you, who had so long disdained me, lying at my feet,
declaring your passion and imploring my love in return, to confess
to you that I could never love you that my heart was no longer
free. This is my crime this alone. I could not force my heart to
love you, but I could be faithful to my duty, and I have been so. It
is not necessary for me to blush and cast my eyes down before my
husband. My love is pure my virtue untarnished. I have broken
no faith with you. "
"Miserable play on words 1" said the prince. "You have been a
hypocrite your crime is twofold : you have sinned against me
you have sinned against your love. You have been a base coward
who had not the courage to do justice to the feelings of your own
546 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
heart. What mean you by saying you have broken no faith with
me? You have acted a daily lie. Oh, madame, how have I loved
you! Both body and soul were lost in that wild love. When you
stood with your lover and listened well pleased to those glowing
confessions of his sinful love, you excused yourself and thought,
forsooth, you were breaking no faith. You have defrauded me of
the woman I loved and the friend whom I trusted. May God curse
you, even as I do ! May Heaven chastise you, even as I shall !"
He raised both his hands over her as if he would call down
Heaven's curse upon her guilty head, then turned and left the room.
CHAPTER XII.
A MORNING AT SANS-SOUCI.
IT was five o'clock in the morning. Deep silence reigned, the
darkness of night still encompassed the world, the weary might still
sleep and rest, life had recommenced nowhere, nowhere except at
Sans-Souci, nowhere except in the apartment of the king ; while his
people slept, the king watched, he watched to work and think for
his people. Without the wind howled and blew the snow against
his window, and made even the fire in his room flicker ; but the
king heeded it not. He had completed his toilet and drunk his
chocolate ; now he was working. It did not disturb him that his
room was cold, that the candle on his table gave but a poor light,
and even seemed to increase the appearance of discomfort in his
apartment ; it gave sufficient light to enable him to read the letters
which lay upon his table, and which had arrived the previous day.
His ministers might sleep the king waked and worked. He read
every letter and petition, and wrote a few words of answer on the
margin of each. After reading all business communications, the
king took his own letters, those that were addressed to him person-
ally, and came from his absent friends. His countenance, which
before was grave and determined, assumed a soft and gentle ex-
pression, and a smile played upon his lips. The receipts for to-day
were small. There were but few letters, and the large proportion of
them came from relations of the king, or from distant acquaint-
ances.
"No letter from D'Argens," said the king, smiling. "My eccle-
siastic letter has accomplished the desired end, and the good mar-
quis will arrive here to-day to rail at, and then forgive me. Ah,
here is a letter from D'Alembert. Well, this is doubtless an agree-
able letter, for it will inform me that D'Alembert accepts my pro
A MORNING AT SANS-SOUCI. 547
posal, and has decided to become the president of my Academy of
Science. "
He hastily broke the seal, and while he read a dark cloud over-
shadowed his brow. " He declines my offer, " he said, discontent-
edly. "His pride consists in a disregard for princes; he ishes
posterity to admire him for his unselfishness. Oh, he does not yet
know posterity. She will either be utterly silent on this subject or,
should it be spoken of, it will be considered an act of folly which
D' Alembert committed. He is a proud and haughty man, as they
all are. " He again took the letter and read it once more, but more
slowly and more carefully than before ; gradually the clouds disap-
peared from his brow, and his eyes beamed with pleasure.
" No, " he said ; " I have misjudged D' Alembert. My displeasure
at a disappointed hope blinded me ; D'Alembert is not a small, vain
man, but a free and great spirit. He now refuses my presidency,
with a salary of 'six thousand thalers, as he last year refused the
position of tutor to the heir of the throne of Russia, with a salary of
a hundred thousand francs. He prefers to be poor and needy, and
to live up five flights of stairs, and be his own master, than to live
in a palace as the servant of a prince. I cannot be angry with him,
for he has thought and acted as a wise man ; and were I not Fred-
erick, I would gladly be D'Alembert. I will not love him less
because he has refused my offer. Ah, it is a real pleasure to know
that there are still men who are independent enough to exercise
their will and judgment in opposition to the king. Princes would
be more noble, if those with whom they associated were not so mis-
erable and shallow -hearted. D'Alembert shall be a lesson and a
consolation to me ; there are still men who are not deceivers and
flatterers, fools and betrayers, but really men. "
He carefully refolded the letter, and, before placing it in his
portfolio, nodded to it as pleasantly as if it had been D'Alembert
himself. He then took another letter.
"I do not recognize this writing," he said, as he examined the
address. " It is from Switzerland, and is directed to me personally.
Fjom whom is it?"
He opened the letter, and glanced first at the signature.
"Ah," he said, "from Jean Jacques Rousseau ! I promised him
an asylum. The free Switzers persecuted the unhappy philosopher,
and my good Lord Marshal prayed my assistance for him. Lord
Marshal is now in Scotland, and it will not benefit him to have his
friend here. Well, perhaps it may lead to his return, if he hopes to
find Rousseau here. I must see what the philosopher says."
The letter contained only a few lines, which the king read with
utter astonishment.
548 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
" Vraiment I " he exclaimed ; " philosophers all belong to the
devil. This Jean Jacques does not content himself with declining
my offer, but he does it in an unheard-of manner. This is a work
of art ; I must read it again. "
The king read aloud in a most pathetic voice : " Votre majeste
m'offre un asyle, et rn'y prome la liberte ; mais vous avez une epee,
et vous etes roi. Vous m'offrez une pension, a moi, q-'i n'a rien
fait pour vous. Mais en avez- vous donne a tous les braves gens qui
ont perdu bras et jambes en vos services?"
" Well, " said the king, laughing, " if being a ruffian makes one a
philosopher, Jean Jacques Rousseau deserves to be called the greatest
philosopher in the world. Truly, Fortune is playing curious pranks
with me to-day, and seems determined to lower my royal pride.
Two refusals at one time ; two philosophers who decline my invita-
tion. No, not two philosophers D'Alembert is a philosopher, but
Rousseau is in truth a fool. "
He tore this letter, and threw the pieces in the fire. He then
seized another letter, but laid it down again before opening it. He
had heard the great clock in the hall strike eight. That was the
sign that the business of the day, which he shared with his atten-
dants, should begin, and that the king had no more time to devote
to his private correspondence. The last stroke of the clock had
scarcely sounded, as a light knock was heard at the door, which
was instantly opened by the command of the king.
Baron von Kircheisen, the prefect of Berlin, entered the room.
He came to make his weekly report to the king. His respectful
greeting was returned merely by a dark side-glance, and the king
listened to his report with evident displeasure.
" And that is your entire report ?" asked his majesty, "when the
prefect had finished. "You are the head of police for the city of
Berlin, and you have nothing more to tell me than any policemen
might know. You inform me of the number of arrivals and depart-
ures, of the births and deaths, and of the thefts which have been
committed, and that is the extent of your report. "
" But I cannot inform your majesty of things that have not oc-
curred, " returned Baron von Kircheisen.
" So nothing else has occurred in Berlin. Berlin is then a most
quiet, innocent city, where at the worst a few greatly-to-be-pitied
individuals occasionally disturb the repose of the righteous by mis-
taking the property of others for their own. You know nothing.
You do not know that Berlin is the most vicious and immoral of
cities. You can tell me nothing of the crimes which are certainly
not of a kind to be punished by the law, but which are creeping
from house to house, poisoning the happiness of entire families, and
A MORNING AT SANS SOUCI. 549
spreading shame and misery on every hand. You know nothing of
the many broken marriage- vows, of the dissension in families, of
the frivolity of the young people who have given themselves up to
gambling and dissipation of all kinds. Much misery might be
avoided if you knew more of these matters, and were ready with
a warning at the right moment."
"Sire, will you permit me to say that is not the task of the
ordinary police ; for such matters a secret police is required."
"Well, why do you not have a secret police? Why do you not
follow the example of the new minister of police at Paris, De
Sartines? That man knows every thing that happens in Paris. He
knows the history of every house, every family, and every indi-
vidual. He occasionally warns the men when their wives are on
the point of flying from them. He whispers to the wives the names
of those who turn their husbands from them. He shows the parents
the faro-bank at which their sons are losing their property, and
sometimes extends a hand to save them from destruction. That is
a good police, and it must be acknowledged that yours does not
resemble it."
"If your majesty desires it, I can establish such a police in Berlin
as De Sartines has in Paris. But your majesty must do two things :
First, you must give me a million of thalers annually."
"Ah! a million 1 Your secret police is rather expensive. Con
tinue. What do you desire besides the million?"
"Secondly, the permission to destroy the peace of families, the
happiness of your subjects to make the son a spy upon his father
the mother an informer against her daughter the students and
servants the betrayers of their teachers and employers. If your
majesty will permit me to undermine the confidence of man to his
fellow-man of the brother to his sister of the parents to their chil-
drenof the husbands to their wives by buying their secrets from
them if I may reward such treachery, then, your majesty, we can
have such a police as De Sartines has in Paris. But I do not think
that it will promote propriety or prevent crime."
The king had listened to him with increasing interest, his brow
growing clearer and clearer as the bold speaker continued. When
he finished, the king ceased his walk, and stood motionless before
him, looking fully into his excited countenance.
"It is, then, your positive conviction that a secret police brings
with it those evils you have depicted?"
"Yes, your majesty, it is my positive conviction."
"He may be right," said the king, thoughtfully. "Nothing de-
moralizes men so much as spies and denunciations, and a good
government should punish and not reward the miserable spies who
550 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
betray their fellow-creatures for gold with the wicked intention of
bringing them into misfortune. A good government should n6t
follow the Jesuits' rule 'That the end consecrates the means. '"
" Will your majesty, then, graciously allow me to dispense with
a secret police?"
"Well, yes. We will remain as we are, and De Sartines may
keep his secret police. It would not suit us, and Berlin shall not be
still further demoralized by spies and betrayers. Therefore, no
more of the secret police. When crime shows itself by day we will
punish it. We will leave it to Providence to bring it to light.
Continue to report to me, therefore, who has died and who has been
born ; who have arrived and who have departed ; who has stolen
and who has done a good business. I am well pleased with you
you have spoken freely and bravely, and said openly what you
thought. That pleases me ; I am pleased when my agents have the
courage to speak the truth, and dare occasionally to oppose me.
I hope you will retain this virtue."
He bowed pleasantly to the prefect, and offered him his hand.
He then dismissed him, and ordered the ministers to enter with
their reports and proposals. After these came the council, and only
after the king had worked with them uninterruptedly for three
hours, did he think of taking some repose from all this work, which
had occupied him from six o'clock in the morning until nearly
twelve. He was on the point of entering his library as loud voices
in the anteroom arrested his attention.
" But I tell you that the king gives no audiences to-day, " he heard
one of the servants say.
"The king has said that every man who wishes to speak to him
shall be admitted !" exclaimed another voice. " I must speak to the
king, and he must hear me. "
"If you must speak to him, you must arrange it by writing.
The king grants an audience to all who demand it, but he fixes the
hour himself. "
"Misery and despair cannot await a fixed hour !" cried the other.
" If the king will not listen to unhappiness when it calls to him
for redress, but waits until it pleases him to hear, he is not a good
king. "
"The man is right," said the king, "I will listen to him imme-
diately. "
He hastily advanced to the door and opened it. Without stood
an old man, poorly dressed, with a pale, thin face, from whose
features despair and sorrow spoke plainly enough to be understood
by all. When his great, sunken eyes fell upon the king, he cried,
joyfully, "God be thanked, there is the king !"
A MORNING AT SANS-SOUCI. 551
The king motioned to him to approach, and the old man sprang
forward with a cry of delight.
" Come into the room, " said the king ; " and now tell me what
you wish from me?"
" Justice, your majesty, nothing but justice. I have been through
tho war, and I am without bread. I have nothing to live upon, and
I have twice petitioned your majesty for a situation which is now
vacant. "
"And I refused it to you, because I had promised it to an-
other."
" They told me that your majesty would refuse me this situation. "
cried the man, despairingly. "But I cannot believe it, for your
majesty owes it to me, and you are usually a just king. Hasten,
your majesty, to perform your duty, and justify yourself from a
suspicion which is unworthy of youi kingly fame. "
The king measured him with a flashing glance, which the pale,
despairing suppliant bore with bold composure.
" By what authority, " asked the king, in a thundering voice, as
he approached the man, with his arm raised threateningly "by
what authority do you dare speak to me in such a tone? and on what
do you ground your shameless demands?"
"On this, your majesty, that I must starve if you refuse my re-
quest. That is the most sacred of all claims, and to whom on earth
dare I turn with it if not to my king?"
There lay in these words a sorrow so heart-breaking, a plaint so
despairing in the voice, that the king was involuntarily much
moved. He let fall his uplifted arm, and the expression of his
countenance became gentle and tender.
"I see that you are very unhappy and despairing," he said,
kindly ; "you were right to come to me. You shall have the place
for which you asked. I will arrange it. Come here to-morrow to
the Councillor Muller. I will give you some money, that you may
not starve until then. "
He silenced the delighted man's expressions of gratitude, and
ringing his bell he summoned Deesen, who kept his purse, in order
to give the man a gold piece. But Deesen did not appear, and the
second chamberlain announced in an embarrassed manner that he
was not in the palace. The king commanded him to give the man
the promised gold piece and then to return to him.
"Where is Deesen?" asked the king, as the chamberlain returned.
"Sire, I do not know," he stammered, his eyes sinking beneath
the piercing glance of the king.
"You do know!" said the king, gravely. "Deesen has positive
orders from me to remain in the anteroom, because I might need
552 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
him. If he dares to disobey my orders, he must have a powerful
reason, and you know it. Out with it ! I will know it. "
" If your majesty commands, I must speak, " said the chamber-
lain, sighing. "Your majesty will not permit us to be married,
but we were made with hearts, and we sometimes fall in love. "
"Deesen is in love, then?" said the king.
" Yes, your majesty, he loves a beautiful girl in Potsdam, whose
name is Maria Siecrert. And although he cannot marry her, she has
consented to be his beloved. And as to-day was the great report day,
Deesen thought that your majesty would not need him, and that
he had time to go to Potsdam to visit his sweetheart. He seems to
have been delayed. That is the reason, your majesty, that Deesen
is not in the anteroom. "
"Very well," said the king ; "as soon as Deesen returns he must
come to my library. I forbid you, however, to repeat one word of
this conversation. "
" Ah, your majesty, I am well pleased that I need not do it, for
Deesen is very passionate, and if he learns that I have betrayed his
secret he is capable of giving me a box on the ear. "
"Which would, perhaps, be very wholesome for you," said the
king, as he turned toward his library.
A quarter of an hour later, Deesen entered the library with a
heated, anxious face.
The king, who was reading his beloved Lucretius while lie paced
the floor, turned his great, piercing eyes with a questioning ex-
pression on the anxious face of his attendant. "I called for you,
and you did not come, " said the king.
" I beg your majesty to pardon me, " stammered Deesen.
" Where were you ?"
" I was in my room writing a letter, sire. "
" Ah, a letter. You were no doubt writing to that beautiful bar-
maid at the hotel of the Black Raven at Amsterdam, who declined
the attentions of the servant of the brothers Zoller. "
This reference to the journey to Amsterdam showed Deesen that
the king was not very angry. He dared, therefore, to raise his eyes
to those of the king, and to look pleadingly at him.
"Sit down," said the king, pointing to the writing-table. "I
called you because I wished to dictate a letter for you to write. Sit
down and take a pen."
Deesen seated himself at the table, and the king began walking
up and down as before, his hands and book behind him.
"Are you ready?" asked the king.
" I am ready, sire, " returned Deesen, dipping his pen into the
ink.
A MORNING AT SANS-SOUCI. 553
"Write then, " commanded the king, as he placed himself imme
diately in front of Deesen "write, then, first the heading: 'My
beloved '"
Deesen started, and glanced inquiringly at the king. Frederick
looked earnestly at him, and repeated, 'My beloved '"
Deesen uttered a sigh, and wrote.
"Have you written that?" asked the king.
"Yes, sire, I have it 'My beloved.'"
"Well, then, proceed. 'My beloved, that old bear, the king *
Write," said the king, interrupting himself as he saw that Deesen
grew pale and trembled, and could scarcely hold the pen " write
without hesitation, or expect a severe punishment. "
"Will your majesty have the kindness to dictate? I am ready to
write every thing," said Deesen, as he wiped his brow.
"Now then, quickly, " ordered the king, and he dictated 'That
old bear, the king, counts every hour against me that I spend so
charmingly with you. That my absence may be shorter in the
future, and less observed by the old scold, I wish you to rent a room
near here in the suburbs of Brandenburg, where we can meet more
conveniently than in the city. I remain yours until death.
"'DEESEN.'
"Have you finished?" asked the king.
"Yes, sire, I have finished," groaned Deesen.
"Then fold the letter and seal it, and write the address 'To the
unmarried Maria Siegert, Yunker Street, Potsdam.'"
" Mercy, sire, mercy !" cried Deseen, springing up and throwing
himself at the feet of the king. " I see that your majesty knows all
that I have been betrayed. "
"You have betrayed yourself, for to-day is the tenth time that I
have called for you when you were absent. Now send your letter
off, and see that your Siegert gets a room here. If, however, you
are again absent when I call, I will send your beautiful Maria to
Spandau, and dismiss you. Go, now, and dispatch your letter. "
Deesen hurried off, and the king looked smilingly after him for
a moment, and was on the point of returning to his reading, when
his attention was attracted by the approach of a carriage.
"Ah," he murmured anxiously, "I fear that I shall be disturbed
again by some cousin, who has come to rob me of my time by hypo-
critical professions of love. "
He looked anxiously toward the door. It was soon opened, and
a servant announced Prince Henry.
The king's countenance cleared, and he advanced to meet his
brother with a bright smile. But his greeting was not returned,
and the prince did not appear to see the extended hand of the king.
554 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
A heavy cloud lay upon his brow his cheeks were colorless and his
lips compressed, as if he wished to suppress the angry and indig-
nant words which his flashing eyes expressed.
"Ah, my brother," said the king, sadly, "it seems that you have
come to announce a misfortune. "
" No, " said the prince, " I only came, your majesty, to recall a
conversation which I held with you ten years ago in this same room,
on this very spot. "
" Ten years ago?" said the king. " That was at the time of your
marriage, Henry."
" Yes, the conversation I refer to concerned my marriage, sire.
You had pursued me so long with that subject, that I had at length
concluded to submit to the yoke which was to free me from those
unworthy and humiliating persecutions. "
"I think that you could select more fitting expressions, my
brother, " said the king, with flashing eyes. " You forget that you
are speaking to your king. "
" But I remember that I am speaking to my brother, whose duty
is to hear the complaints which I have to utter against the king. "
"Speak," said the king, after a slight pause. "Your brother
will hear you. "
" I come to remind you of that hour, " said the prince, solemnly,
"in which I gave my consent to be married. As I did so, sire, I
said to you that I should hold you responsible for this marriage
which was made for political purposes and not from love that I
would call you to account before the throne of God, and there ask
you by what right you robbed me of my liberty, by what right you
laid a chain upon my hand and heart which love could not help me
to bear. I said further, sire if the weight of this chain should be-
come too heavy, and this unnatural connection of a marriage with
out love should drive me to despair, that upon your head would rest
the curse of my misery, and that you would be answerable for my
destroyed existence, for my perished hopes. "
" And I, " said the king, " I took this responsibility upon me. As
your king and your elder brother, I reminded you of your duty to
give the state a family sons who would be an example of courage
and honor to the men, and daughters who would be a pattern of
virtue and propriety to the women. In view of these duties, I de-
manded of you to be married."
" I come now to call you to account for this marriage, " exclaimed
the prince, solemnly. " I have come to tell you that my heart is
torn with pain and misery ; that I am the most wretched of men,
and that you have made me so you, who forced me into this mar-
riage, although you knew the shame and despair of a marriage
A MORNING AT SANS-SOUCI. 555
without love. You had already taken a heavy responsibility upon
yourself by your own marriage ; and if you were compelled to endure
it so long as my father lived, you should have relieved yourself
from it so soon as you were free ; that is, so soon as you were king.
But you preferred to continue in this unnatural connection, or rather
you put the chains from your hands, and let them drag at your feet.
Not to outrage the world by your divorce, you gave it the bad ex-
ample of a wretched marriage. You made yourself free, and you
made a slave of your poor wife, who has been a martyr to your
humors and cruelty. You profaned the institution of marriage.
You gave a bad and dangerous example to your subjects, and it has
done its work. Look around in your land, sire. Everywhere you
will see unhappy women who have been deserted by their husbands,
and miserable men who have been dishonored by their faithless
wives. Look at your own family. Our sister of Baireuth died of
grief, and of the humiliation she endured from the mistress of her
husband. Our brother, Augustus William, died solitary and alone.
He withdrew in his grief to Oranienburg, and his wife remained in
Berlin. She was not with him when he died ; strangers received
his last breath strangers closed his eyes. Our sister of Anspach
quarrelled with her husband, until finally she submitted, and made
a friend of his mistress. And I, sire, I also stand before you with
the brand of shame upon my brow. I also have been betrayed and
deceived, and all this is your work. If the king mocks at the sacred
duties of marriage, how can he expect that his family and subjects
should respect them ? It is the fashion in your land for husbands
and wives to deceive one another, and it is you who have set this
fashion. "
" I have allowed you to finish, Henry, " said the king, when the
prince was at length silent. "I have allowed you to finish, but I
have not heard your angry and unjust reproaches, I have only heard
that my brother is unhappy, and it is, I know, natural for the un-
happy to seek the source of their sorrows in others and not in them-
selves. I forgive all that you have said against me ; but if you hold
me responsible for the miserable consequences of the war, which
kept the men at a distance for years and loosened family ties, that
shows plainly that your judgment is unreliable, and that you can-
not discriminate with justice. I did not commence this war heed-
lessly ; I undertook it as a heavy burden. It has made an old man
of me ; it has eaten up my life before my time. I see all the evil
results, and I consider it my sacred duty to bind up the wounds
which it has inflicted on my country. I work for this object day
and night ; I give all of my energies to this effort ; I have sacrificed
to it all my personal inclinations. But I must be contented to bind
656 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
up the wounds. I cannot make want disappear ; I cannot immedi-
ately change sorrow into gladness. "
"Ah, sire, you seek to avoid the subject, and to speak of the
general uuhappiness instead of my special grief. I call you to
account, because you forced me to take a wife that I did not know
a wife who has made me the most miserable of men a wife who
has outraged my honor, and betrayed my heart. You gave me a
wife who has robbed me of all I held dear on earth of the wife I
loved, and of the friend I trusted. "
" Poor brother, " said the king, gently, " you are enduring the tor-
ments from which I also suffered, before my heart became hardened
as it now is. Yes, it is a fearful pain to be forced to despise the
friend that you trusted to be betrayed by those we have loved. I
have passed through that grief. The man suffered deeply in me be-
fore his existence was merged in that of the king. "
" Sire, " said the prince, suddenly, " I have come to you to de-
mand justice and punishment. You have occasioned the misery of
my house, it is therefore your duty to alleviate it, as far as in you
lies. I accuse my wife, the Princess Wilhelmina, of infidelity and
treachery. I accuse Count Kalkreuth, who dares to love my wife,
of being a traitor to your royal family. I demand your consent to
my divorce from the princess, and to the punishment of the traitor.
That is the satisfaction which I demand of your majesty for the ruin
which you have wrought in my life. "
"You wish to make me answerable for the capriciousness of
woman and the faithlessness of man, " asked the king, with a sad
smile. " You do that because I, in performing my duty as a king,
forced you to marry. It is true you did not love your intended
wife, because you did not know her, but you learned to love her.
That proves that I did not make a bad choice ; your present pain is
a justification for me. You are unhappy because you love the wife
I gave you with your whole heart. For the capriciousness of women
you cannot hold me responsible, and I did not select the friend who
has so wickedly betrayed you. You demand of me that I should
punish both. Have you considered, my brother, that in punishing
them I should make your disgrace and misery public to the world?
Do not imagine, Henry, that men pity us for our griefs ; when they
seem most deeply to sympathize with us they feel an inward pleas-
ure, especially if it is a prince who suffers. It pleases men that
fate, which has given us an exceptional position, does not spare us
the ordinary sorrows of humanity."
" I understand, then, that you refuse my request, " said the prince.
"You will not consent to my divorce, you will not punish the
traitor?"
A HUSBAND'S REVENGE. 557
" No, I do not refuse your request, but I beg you -will take three
days to consider what I have said to you. At the end of that time,
should you come to me, and make the same demand, I will give my
consent ; that is, I will have you publicly separated from your wife,
I will have Count Kalkreuth punished, and will thus give the world
the right to laugh at the hero of Freiburg. "
"Very well, sire, " said the prince, thoughtfully, "I will remind
you of your promise. I beg you will now dismiss me, for you see I
am a very man and no philosopher, unworthy to be a guest at Sans-
Souci."
He bowed to the king, who tenderly pressed his hand and silently
left the room.
Frederick looked after him with an expression of unutterable
pity.
"Three days will be long enough to deaden his pain, and then he
will be more reasonable and form other resolutions. "
CHAPTER XIII.
A HUSBAND'S REVENGE.
CAMILLA lay upon a sofa in her boudoir, and listened with breath-
less attention to the account her beau cousin gave of the adventures
of the last eight days. She listened with sparkling eyes to the witty
description he gave of his duel with Lord Elliot, and declared that
she found him extraordinarily brilliant. Camilla was indeed proud
of her handsome lover. Kindar explained minutely how he had
compelled Lord Elliot, who for a long time avoided and fled from
him, to fight a duel with him. How he forced him on his knees to
acknowledge that he had done his wife injustice, and to apologize
for the insult he had offered to Kindar, in charging him with being
the lover of his pure and virtuous wife.
"And he did this?" cried Camilla; "he knelt before you and
begged your pardon ?"
" Yes, he knelt before me, and begged my pardon. "
"Then he is even more pitiful than I thought him, " said Camilla,
"and I am justified before the whole world in despising him.
Nothing can be more contemptible than to beg pardon rather than
fight a duel, to kneel to a man to save one's miserable life. I am a
woman, but I would scorn such cowardice. I would despise the
man I loved most fondly if he were guilty of such an act of shame. "
Camilla was much excited ; she did not notice how Kindar started,
turned pale, and fixed his eyes on the floor. She was so charmed
558 FEEDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
with the courage of her beau cousin that she could think of nothing
else. Even her frivolous nature had this feminine instinct she
prized personal daring and courage in a man more than all other
things ; of strength of mind she knew nothing, and therefore she
could not appreciate it, but she demanded courage, dignity, and
strength of physique. She laid her hands upon her cousin with
cordial approbation, and gazed lovingly at him.
"You are as beautiful as a hero and a demigod, and it seems to
me I never loved you so fondly as at this moment, when you stand
before me as the victor over my cowardly husband. Ah, I wish
I could have witnessed that scene ; you proud and grand, and he
lying trembling like this miserable ivindspiel at your feet, repeating
the words of retraction and repentance which you dictated."
"It was indeed worth seeing," said Kindar; "but let us speak
now of something more important, dear Camilla. You must leave
Berlin to-day, and for a few weeks at least withdraw to your estate,
till the violence of the storm has blown over. It is, of course, most
agreeable and flattering to me to have my name coupled with that
of so lovely and charming a woman to be looked upon with jeal-
ousy and alarm by the cowardly husbands of Berlin. It will not,
however, be agreeable to you to be torn to pieces by slanderous
tongues. Every old maid, every prude, and every hypocritical
coquette (and of such base elements the feminine world is com-
posed) , will find this a happy occasion to exalt her own modesty
and virtue, and denounce and condemn you. "
"Not so," said Camilla, proudly, "I will remain in Berlin. I
have courage to defy the whole world for your sake I will remain
to prove that I am not ashamed of my love. The whole world shall
know that the brave and handsome Kindar, the beloved of all
women, is my lover. Ah, cousin, you merit this compensation at
my hands ; you defended my honor against the aspersions of my
husband, and compelled him to a shameful retraction."
"Does Baron von Kindar make this boast?" cried a voice behind
her.
Camilla turned and saw Lord Elliot standing in the door ; he
looked at her with a cold, contemptuous glance, which wounded her
far more than a spoken insult would have done.
"Why are you here, sir?" she cried. " With what right do you
dare force yourself into my presence?"
Lord Elliot made no reply, but smiled coolly, and Camilla's eyes
filled with tears of rage.
" Cousin, " said she, turning to Kindar, " will you not free me
from the presence of this contemptible creature, who dares to affront
and"
A HUSBAND'S REVENGE. 559
Suddenly she stopped speaking and gazed in amazement at her
handsome cousin ; his countenance was not serene ; he was indeed
livid, and stood trembling and with downcast eyes before her hus-
band.
" Well, " said Lord Elliot, raising himself proudly, " do you not
hear your cousin's command? Will you not dismiss this poor
creature who dares disturb this tender interview?"
"I will withdraw, " stammered Kindar, "I am de trap. I have
no right to interfere between Lord Elliot and his wife. I take my
leave. "
He tried to step through the door, but the powerful hand of Lord
Elliot held him back.
"Not so, my handsome gentleman," said Lord Elliot, with a
hoarse laugh, " you are by no means de trop ; on the contrary, I de-
sire your presence ; you will remain here and listen to the charming
and merry narrative I am about to relate to Lady Elliot. I have
come, madame, to give your ladyship the history of a hunt ; not,
however, of a chase after wild beasts, of the hart and the hare, but
of an all-conquering cavalier, who, however, judging from the
manner in which he fled and sought to save himself, must possess
the cowardice of the hare, and the fleet foot of the hart. You know,
I presume, that I speak of your beau cousin and myself. "
While Lord Elliot spoke, Camilla stared in breathless agony at
her cousin. She seemed to hope to read in his pale face the expla-
nation of this incomprehensible riddle ; she expected him to com-
mand her husband to be silent, and to offer him some new insult.
But Kindar did not speak, and Camilla came to a desperate resolu-
tion. She was determined to know why he stood so pale and trem-
bling before her husband. She would force him to an explanation.
" It is wholly unnecessary, my lord, " she said, in a haughty tone,
" to relate your history to me ; I am acquainted with all the particu-
lars of the chase of which you speak. I know your degradation and
humiliation I know that you fell upon your knees and pleaded for
pardon when satisfaction was demanded of you."
" Ah ! I see, le beau cousin has changed roles with me, " said Lord
Elliot. "That was indeed most amiable. Your lover must, of
course, always play the most important part, and no doubt, he
thought to do me honor by this change. I cannot take advantage
of this generous intention, and must correct a few errors in his
narrative."
" Speak ! then ; speak ! my lord, " said Camilla, whose eyes were
still fixed sternly upon her lover.
" As you graciously permit it, madame, I will give you an account
of the chase. But first, madame, I must clear myself from an accu-
560 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
sation. I am suspected of having challenged Von Kindar, because
he was the lover of my wife. I look upon that, however, as an acci-
dent, and nothing more. Le beau cousin happened to be at hand
when my susceptible, ardent wife looked around for a lover, and she
accepted him ; he was the first, but he will not be the last. I was
not driven to pursue him by jealousy. I am a true son of this
enlightened age, and shall not, like the knights of the olden time,
storm heaven and earth because my wife has a lover. I am a phi-
losopher. For a noble wife, who had made me happy in her love,
I might perhaps feel and act differently. I, however, married a
heartless fool, and it would have been mad folly to risk my life with
a brainless fop for her sake. "
"Speak, cousin!" cried Camilla, springing forward, white with
passion. " Speak ! Do you not hear these insults ?" She laid her
hands upon his arm ; he muttered a few incomprehensible words
and tried to shake them off.
" He has heard every word, " said Lord Elliot, scornfully ; " but
he is without doubt too polite to interrupt me. He will have the
goodness still to listen silently. "
Camilla let her hands fall ; gnashing her teeth she turned away
and seated herself upon the divan. Her lover and her husband stood
before her ; the one, trembling like a broken reed, leaned against
the wall, the other erect and proudly conscious of his own worth
and dignity.
" I said that I would not have dreamed of risking my life with a
brainless fop, for the sake of a heartless fool ; but this fop was
guilty of another crime : he was not only the betrayer of my wife,
but he was the author of a shameful and most insulting letter,
which you, madame, had the effrontery to copy and send me. "
"How do you know that he wrote this letter?" cried Camilla.
" In the first place, madame, you are not even capable of com-
posing such a letter. I took the liberty of removing the original of
this letter from your writing-desk. Armed with this proof, I sought
le beau cousin, and demanded satisfaction. Lieutenant Kaphengst,
a former friend of this handsome cavalier, accompanied me. When
you deal with such a man as the one who stands cowering before
me, witnesses are necessary. He is quite capable of denying every
thing, and changing the roles. The baron had left home, he had
gone to Mecklenberg. Certainly he did not know that I had come
to Berlin to seek him, or he would have had the courtesy to remain
and receive my visit. I was too impatient to await his return, and
followed his traces, even as ardently as he has followed you, madame.
I found him at last, in the hotel of a little village. Like all other
sentimental lovers, he longed for solitude ; and, not wishing to be
A HUSBAND'S REVENGE. 561
disturbed in his sweet dreams, he rented the entire hotel. I was,
however, bold enough to seek him with swords and pistols and
gave him choice of weapons ; he was peaceable, and refused both
sword and pistol. I therefore took my third weapon, my trusty
w%,lking-stick. It was a beautiful bamboo-rod, and neither broke
nor split, though I beat away valiantly on the back of the knightly
cavalier. "
" This cannot be true. This is a lie !" cried Camilla.
Lord Elliot raised his arm and pointed slowly to Kindar. " Ask
him, madame, if this is a lie. "
Camilla turned, and as her eye rested upon him, she felt that she
had no need to ask the question.
Kindar leaned with pale cheek and tottering knees against the
wall. He was a living picture of cowardly despair and trembling
terror.
Camilla groaned aloud, and with a look of unspeakable aversion
she turned from him to her husband. For the first time, she did not
find him ugly. He was indeed imposing. His proud bearing, his
noble intellect, and manly worth impressed her. To her he had
never been but the fond, tender, yielding lover now she saw be-
fore her the firm and angry man, and he pleased her. Kindar, who
had been so handsome and so irresistible, was now hateful in her
eyes.
"Go on," murmured Camilla.
" Well, I beat this man with my cane till he consented to fight
with me. We had, however, played this little comedy too energeti-
cally. The people of the hotel heard the noise, and fearing some
fatal result, rushed to the rescue of this handsome cavalier. We
deferred the duel, therefore, till the next day, but lo ! the next
morning le beau cousin had fled. Without doubt he had forgotten
our little arrangement, and his thirst to see you lured him back to
Berlin. I was barbarian enough to follow him, and I swore to shoot
him down like a mad dog if he did not consent to fight. This com-
parison was doubtless somewhat insulting, and he resolved at last to
fight."
"Ah, he accepted the challenge!" cried Camilla, casting a sud-
den glance upon Kindar ; but oh, how ugly, how pitiful, how re-
pulsive did he now appear to her ! She closed her eyes, in order not
to see him.
" We rode on with our seconds and our weapons to the little vil-
lage of Bernan, on the border of Saxony ; but I saw, madame, that
your cavalier had no inclination to fight this duel. Besides, I
thought of you of your great grief if he should fall, and thus de-
prive you of your pretty plaything before you had time to replace it
562 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
You know that my heart was ever soft and compass ionate. I resolved,
therefore, to be merciful to le beau cousin. Arrived on the ground,
I proposed to Kindar, instead of fighting with me, to sign a paper
which I had prepared, in which he implores my pardon and my
mercy, acknowledges himself to be an unworthy scoundrel and li%r,
and solemnly swears that every accusation he brought against me in
the letter you copied was a lie declares me to be an irreproachable
cavalier, who has been deceived and betrayed by himself and Lady
Elliot. Baron Kindar found this somewhat strongly expressed, and
preferred to fight rather than sign it. "
"God be thanked !" murmured Camilla.
"Well, we were resolved to fight, and I was obliging enough to
give Kindar the first shot. He accepted this advantage readily,
and I confess he aimed well. His hand trembled, and he shot too
high, just over my head. Now it was my turn. I raised the pistol,
and I swear to you, madame, my hand did not tremble. Perhaps
Kindar noticed this perhaps he wished to live and find a compensa-
tion in your love for the terrible torments of the last few days. It
suffices to say, he called out to me not to shoot, as he was ready to
sign the paper confessing he was a scoundrel and a liar. He
signed it kneeling at my feet, and begging pardon. I then gave
him permission to return to Berlin. For myself, I drove to Sans-
Souci, asked an audience of the king, and obtained his consent to a
divorce. You know, madame, that I have a soft and yielding
nature. I never could refuse a wish of your heart. I therefore im-
plored his majesty to allow of your immediate marriage with Baron
Kindar. "
"Never, never, will that marriage take place!" cried Camilla,
springing from the divan and gazing with abhorrence upon Kindar.
" It will take place !" said Lord Elliot, firmly and imperiously ;
"you love him, you betrayed me for his sake he is a base coward,
despised by every man, but still you will marry him. We are di-
vorced, and the king commands this marriage. From this hour we
are nothing to each other you are the betrothed of Baron von
Kindar. Allow me to give you this paper, which he signed to save
his pitiful life, as a bridal present. "
He laid the paper upon the table, and bowed to Camilla, who
was pale and terrified, and whose teeth chattered as if in an ague-fit.
"Madame," said Lord Elliot, "I have the honor to bid you adieu.
I wish you a long and happy wedded life !"
Lord Elliot left the room and passed on to the apartment which
had been his own. Every thing had been removed, all the pictures
taken from the wall but one ; only Camilla's portrait, taken in her
bridal dress, remained. He stood long before this lovely picture,
A HUSBAND'S REVENGE. 563
and gazed steadily, as if to impress every lineament upon his soul,
lie felt that in taking leave of this painting he was bidding adieu
to youth, to happiness, to all the sweet illusions of life.
"Farewell!" said he, aloud "farewell, Camilla! my bride! the
dream is over !"
He took a little knife from his pocket and cut the picture in two
pieces, from the top to the bottom, then slowly descended the steps
to his carriage, in which his friend, Doctor Blitz awaited him.
"I am ready, doctor, and I beg you to give me a bed in your
house for the present. During the last ten days I have had a burn-
ing fever. "
While Lord Elliot was driving off, Camilla and le beau cousin
stood confronting each other ; neither dared to break the fearful
silence, or even to look at each other.
Suddenly the door opened, and General von Saldern, the adju-
tant of the king, entered the room. Camilla had not the strength
to advance to meet him ; she returned his salutation by a faint incli-
nation of the head. The general did not appear to see Kindar, and
made no response to his profound bow.
" Madame, " said the general, solemnly, " I come at the command
of the king ; by his authority as king and judge, and as head of the
church, he has annulled your marriage with Lord Elliot. This was
done as a proof of his regard to Lord Elliot. Out of regard to your
own family, he insists upon your immediate marriage with Baron
Kindar, who has been dismissed from the king's service."
"No, no, " cried Camilla, "I will never marry him! Leave me,
sir I will never become the wife of this man !"
" It is his majesty's express command that you should be married
without delay," said General Saldern ; "he has also commanded me
to say to you that this scandalous intrigue, insulting to morals and
good manners, should no longer be brought before the public. You
are both, therefore, banished from his court, from Potsdam and
Berlin, and commanded to take refuge at your country seat, and
lead there a solitary and quiet life. This is the only punishment he
inflicts upon you, and I have nothing more to announce. If agree-
able to you, madame, we will go at once !"
"Where?" cried Camilla, drawing back in terror from the gen-
eral, who approached her.
"In the next room, madame, a priest is waiting, who, at the
express command of his majesty, will now perform the marriage
ceremony. "
Camilla uttered a loud shriek and fell senseless into the arms of
le beau cousin, who advanced toward her at a nod from the general.
When consciousness returned, the priest was before her and
564 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Kindar at her side. The ceremony was performed, and the unhappy
couple left Berlin at once, never to return. The remainder of their
lives was passed in sorrow, solitude, and self -contempt.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE SEPARATION.
THE three days the king had allowed his brother to make up his
mind in, were past. Prince Henry had made up his mind. On the
morning of the second day, he had sent off two couriers one to the
king at Sans-Souci, the other to his wife at Rheinsberg. He had
remained in Berlin, and had taken possession of the splendid palace
opposite the opera-house, that the king had lately built and fur-
nished for him. He had ordered his major-domo to prepare a hand-
some dinner, as he wished to open his house by entertaining all the
nobility of Berlin.
The feast was to take place the third day after the king's inter-
view with the prince.
The courier who left the morning before, carried a letter to Prin-
cess Wilhelmina, requesting her in a few cold, ceremonious words,
to come to Berlin and preside at the proposed dinner and concert.
This invitation was to the princess a command she dared not
resist. She left Rheinsberg early in the morning and arrived at the
palace an hour before dinner.
Prince Henry met his wife in the large vestibule leading to the
front building. He advanced toward her with a bright smile, passed
her arm through his, and led her, pale and trembling, up the steps,
making her observe the style of the building and the many con-
veniences of their new dwelling. He spoke cheerfully, walking
slowly so as to give the followers of the princess, who were occupied
with her baggage, time to collect around her and witness the per-
fect understanding between her and her husband. When they had
mounted the last step, the prince laughingly pointed to the two halls
leading from the stairway.
"Here, madame, commence our separate apartments. To you
belong the right, to me the left wing of the castle. I will pass
through the hall to the right and lead you to the apartments whose
mistress you will now become."
The princess threw a timid, inquiring glance at him. She had
been so convinced that her husband would demand a divorce, that
she had allowed her thoughts to linger upon this possible mode of
escape. Now her heart trembled within her. "Perhaps," mur-
THE SEPARATION. 565
mured she as they passed through the long hall "perhaps he will
murder me as the Duke of Orleans did his wife because she loved
the Count de Guiche. " She hesitated, therefore, as the prince opened
a door and bade her enter. She looked anxiously around for her
followers.
"Cannot my maids accompany us?" said she, softly.
" No, madame, " said the prince, roughly. " We go alone. "
He drew her into the room, entered after her, then closed and
locked the door.
Princess Wilhelmina shrieked in terror, and drew away from
him. "Why do you lock the door?" said she, trembling. "Do you
wish to murder me?"
The prince laughed aloud. " Ah, you wish a tragic end to your
romance, madame, " said he. "Not so, however. It will be quiet
and prosaic. You will act neither the part of a martyr nor a hero-
ine. I wish neither to reproach nor punish you. I leave that to
God and your conscience. I wish only to arrange with you the de-
tails of our future life. I locked the door, as I do not wish to be
disturbed. "
"What are these details?" said the princess.
" We will speak of them hereafter, madame. Will you first do
me the honor to read this letter I have just received from the king
in answer to mine? Have the kindness to read it aloud. "
The princess received the letter and read :
" MY DEAR BROTHER Your letter has been a great source of con-
solation to me, for it assures me that you are again a man, and have
overcome your grief. It is not your lot to be only a tender or an
avenging husband. You are, before all else, a prince and a man.
Both qualifications have duties forcing you to submit to life and to
become worthy of it. There is still much to be done in this world
by both of us, and a true man should not be turned from his path
because a foolish woman places a few thorns beneath his pillow.
Stifling his pain, he continues his road quietly. I am glad this is
also your opinion that you have given up all thought of a public
scandal and denunciation. In relation to the princess, I give you
full power to make any and every arrangement you see fit. As to
Kalkreuth, he shall receive the place you mentioned. I have ap-
pointed him lieutenant-general of the third army corps in Prussia.
He will leave here at once. I desire you to inform him of his pro-
motion. As soon as you dismiss him, send him to me at Sans-Souci.
You tell me you are about to give a feast. That pleases me right
well. It is better to stifle your pain with bright flowers and gay
music, than to tear out your hair and retire to a convent. May your
feast be a bright one, and may it last forever ! FREDERICK. "
56G FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
Princess Wilhelmina, having finished the letter, handed it to
her husband. " I see, " whispered she, softly, " that you have been
noble and generous, my husband. You shower benefits upon us in-
stead of just anger. "
" I do neither the one nor the other, " said the prince, coldly ; " I
simply wish to pass a peaceful life, and above all things I would
not have the world think me unhappy, for unhappy I am not nor
ever mean to be. "
The princess gave a timid glance at his countenance, so at vari-
ance with his words. The last three days had worked such a fearful
change. His cheeks were thin and pale, his brow dark and clouded
about his mouth were deep lines of care never more to be effaced.
Princess Wilhelmina was deeply touched when she saw this change.
" My husband, " said she softly, raising her hands imploringly to
him, "have pity on yourself on me. Hear me before you decide.
I feel that I have sinned heavily against you, but I will endeavor to
expiate my sin. In looking at you and seeing how much you have
suffered, the pain that almost bursts my heart tells me how dear you
are to me. I repent I repent, my husband. I will force my heart
to love you, and you alone. From now on, I will be a faithful
wife ; the one aim of my life shall be to make you happy. Here I
swear, as before God's altar, that I will love and obey you as my
husband and master. Will you accept this heart, th?t comes to you
full of repentance? Henry, will you?"
She held out her hand, with a bright, beaming glance, but he
did not take it.
" No ; it is too late, " said he. " I raised you a temple in my
heart. You have destroyed it, and wish now to build another with
the shattered ruins. No, princess ; that which the lightning has
struck must remain in ashes. I could never believe in the stability
of your building, but would be expecting it to fall daily. This
temple can never be rebuilt. I forgive, but can never more love
you. We are separated before God and our own hearts. But to the
world we are still wedded. We shall both inhabit this palace, but
we shall seek never to meet one another. On grand fit", days, when
etiquette demands it, we shall dine together, but preside at separate
tables. And you must forgive me if I never address you. We are
dead to one another ; and the dead do not speak. In the summer I
shall live at Rheinsberg ; the king presented it to me on my mar-
riage with you, and I think I have paid dearly enough for it to be
allowed to spend my time there alone. You will not follow me
there, but will remain in Berlin, or travel, as it suits you. Do you
accept my conditions, madame?"
"Yes, sir," said the princess, proudly. "I accept them. We
THE SEPARATION. 567
lire like two galley-slaves, bound together in chains, without
one thought or feeling in unison. You have devised a severe pun-
ishment for me, my prince. My only fear is that I am not the only
victim that you also suffer?"
" I told you before, that I wished to punish no one. All I seek is
a little rest a little peace, and your presence in this palace cannot
endanger that, for you, madame, have not only annihilated my love
for you, but also the remembrance of it. And now, as you have ac-
cepted my conditions for our future life, I have nothing more to say
than farewell, until death ! Farewell, madame ; may your life be a
happj r one !"
"Farewell, prince!" murmured Wilhelmina, in a voice choked
with tears. " Farewell ! and may God teach your heart to pity and
forgive !"
"You will now have the kindness, madame, to arrange your
toilet, then to follow me with your court to the great reception-
room. We give to-day a splendid dinner. At this/efe we will take
an eternal adieu of the past. It will be the last time we dine to-
gether. Farewell, madame ; I await you. "
He bow r ed profoundly, then moved to the door. The princess
gazed after him breathlessly, and the tears that had long stood in
her eyes now rolled slowly down her cheeks.
When the prince had reached the threshold, she started forward,
crying in a piteous voice :
"Henry! oh, Henry!"
The prince did not turn, but opened the door and passed out of
the room.
Fifteen minutes later, a gay crowd was assembled in the recep-
tion-room. The prince received his guests in his usual gay, cordial
manner. But the princess was different. She was more quiet and
formal than usual. Her eyes did not sparkle ; her cheeks were pale
in spite of her rouge ; her voice was low and tremulous, and the
smile she called to her 'lip was hard and forced. A still more re-
markable change had taken place in Count Kalkreuth's appearance.
He who generally sparkled with gayety and wit, whose merry jests
had been the delight of the court he who had been the very shadow
of the princess, her most devoted cavalier stood now pale and
speechless at a window, gazing sadly at the prince, who was laugh-
ing and talking with his guests, and who had passed him repeatedly
without turning his head. The courtiers, however, saw onlj- the
outward signs of that agony that had almost distracted the count in
the last four days.
For four days, since their last meeting in the garden of Rheins-
berg, the prince had not spoken to him. It was in vain he had
668 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
written and implored an audience. The prince returned his letters
unopened. In vain that at almost every hour during these four
wretched days he had had himself announced to the prince. Prince
Henry would not receive him. And still he felt the inevitable
necessity of having an explanation with the prince. His heart
craved it as the dying man craves the last consolations of religion.
This friendship for the prince, notwithstanding he had betrayed and
wounded it, was, and had always been to him a sort of religion ; he
had sinned against it in the folly of his passion, but he had now
come to his senses, and he repented his guilt bitterly. Not a thought
of the princess lingered in his heart ; it was the prince he yearned
after ; he must speak to him ; he must be forgiven by him. His
love for him was greater than ever. Now that he had turned from
him, he knew how much he had lost. He had not yet given up the
hope of an interview ; for this alone had he come to the dinner.
But whenever he endeavored to approach the prince, he had turned
from him and entered into earnest conversation with some by-
standers.
Now the prince stood alone at a window ; now or never must the
count succeed in speaking to him. Passing through the room
hastily, he stood before Prince Henry.
" My prince, " murmured the count, softly, " have pity on me. I
entreat you to listen to me for fifteen minutes !"
The prince fixed his piercing eyes upon the count's pale, agitated
countenance, but did not speak. Then passing proudly before him,
he advanced to meet Prince Frederick William, who had just
arrived.
The doors of the dining-saloon were now thrown open, and the
guests approached the richly-covered table, at one end of which sat
the prince and his wife. Not far from them was Count Kalkreuth.
For more than two hours he had borne the agony of being near the
prince without being addressed by him. For two hours he had
stood the inquiring, malicious smiles and glances of the courtiers,
who were looking on with delight at his humiliation.
His martyrdom was almost over. Dinner was finished, and all
awaited a sign from the princely couple to rise from the table.
Prince Henry arose, glass in hand, and said, in a loud voice :
" And now, my guests, I have pleasant news for you ; as you are
all friends of Count Kalkreuth, what is good news to him will be to
you also. His majesty has appointed him lieutenant-general of
Prince Frederick William's army corps in Prussia. The king,
knowing my true friendship for him, granted me the privilege of
announcing his promotion. I am sorry to say that through it we
lose him, for his majesty desires him, as soon as we leave the table.
THE SEPARATION. 569
to hasten to Sans-Souci to receive his commission. And now, gen-
tlemen, fill your glasses, we will drink to the lieutenant-general's
welfare. "
All arose to drink the toast except Count Kalkreuth. His head
was bent almost upon his breast, as if he were ashamed to show his
pale, agitated countenance. He would have given all he possessed
to have flown from the hall. Princess Wilhelmina sat opposite, she
had not yet looked at him, but she now threw him a glance full of
inexpressible pity, and raised her glass hastily to her lips. It was
not wine, but her own tears that she drank.
The prince now led the princess to the reception-room. He stood
beside her when Kalkreuth approached. The guests were grouped
about the room, every eye was fixed eagerly upon this trio.
Count Kalkreuth was still pale and unmanned ; with tottering,
trembling steps he advanced toward the princely couple.
The prince turned laughingly to his guests, saying : " See the
strange effect of joy. It has transformed our gay and witty count.
He is stern and solemn as if, instead of an honor, he had received
a degradation. "
No voice answered the prince. Finally, in midst of deep silence,
the count said :
" I come to take leave of your royal highness before going to that
exile which his majesty has kindly chosen for me. For, although
it is promotion, you must permit me to reiterate that it is also ban-
ishment, for at Konigsberg I shall not see my prince. But I shall
carry your picture in my heart there it shall forever dwell. "
" We will not make our parting more hard by sweet words, " said
Prince Henry, emphasizing the last words. " B : d adieu to my wife,
kiss her hand, and then God be with you !"
The princess, muttering a few incomprehensible words, gave
him her hand, white and colorless as that of a corpse. Count Kal-
kreuth touched his lips to it, and they were so cold that the princess
shuddered as if she had been embraced by death itself.
It was their last meeting ! a cold, formal farewell for life. The
count now turned to the prince, who gave him his hand smilingly.
"Farewell, count," said he. Stooping to embrace him, he whis-
pered in his ear: "You once saved my life, we are now quits, for
you have murdered my heart. Farewell !"
He turned from him. The count, no longer able to suppress his
tears, covered his face with his hands and tottered from the room.
A few hours later he stood in the king's ante-chamber at Sans-
Souci. He had just been announced. He waited long no one
came to conduct him to the king ; every door remained closed, every
thing arouud him was dull and deserted. It was dark ; the sharp
37
570 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
April wind was beating against the window and howling through
the chimney. The count's conscience was busy at work in this
gloomy chamber. He could endure it no longer, and was preparing
to leave, when the door was opened, and an adjutant entered to con-
duct him to the king's apartments.
The king was in his sitting-room. As Count Kalkreuth entered,
he laid aside the book he had been reading, and rose. In a stern,
imperious manner he advanced to meet him.
" As my brother desired it, I have appointed you lieutenant-gen-
eral of the third army corps, " said he, harshly. " You leave at once
for Konigsberg you know your duties. Go, and endeavor to fulfil
them. "
"Sirel" said the count, softly.
" Go ! not another word !"
Count Kalkreuth, almost unable to make the military salute,
left the room, stifling his anger.
The king looked after him thoughtfully. " Poor Henry !" mur-
mured he, softly, "had you also to receive the Judas-kiss from a
friend? Poor brother ! you were so happy why did cruel fate dis-
enchant you? There is much in being happy in your own estima-
tion there is upon the earth no other sort of happiness ; and whether
true or false, the peace it brings is alike. I, I am so poor that I no
longer believe in the one or the other. And still men envy me !
Envy a poor, disenchanted, solitary man envy him because he
wears a crown ! What sort of an existence have I? My life is full
of work, full of sorrow, nothing else ! I work for my subjects ;
they do not thank me, and will greet and welcome my successor
some day, be he ever so mean and contemptible, as they once greeted
and welcomed me. The love of a people for their king is a love full
of egotism and self-interest. Who has ever loved me otherwise than
selfishly? I met my friends with an open heart when with them
I forgot that I was a king, but they never forgot it ; not one, not a
single one loved in me the man. The foolish populace call me a
hero, and speak of the laurels that crown my brow, but of the
thorns they have woven in it they know nothing. Would I need
have no more to do with men, for they have poor, slavish souls !
They deceive themselves they all deceive me. "
As the king ceased speaking, he felt his foot touched. Some-
what startled, he looked down. His greyhound Diana was lying at
his feet, gazing at him with her large, intelligent eyes. A soft
smile crossed Frederick's countenance. Stooping to caress her, he
said :
" You come to remind me that there is still love and truth upon
the earth, but one must not be silly enough to look for it among
NOTES. 571
men. Come here, Diana, my little companion ; I was wrong to call
myself solitary, for are you not here? and then have I not my flute?
Is she not a loving, trustworthy friend, to whom every thing can be
confided? You two shall be my sole companions this evening. "
Raising his flute, he commenced to play softly, walking up and
down his room. Diana followed him slowly, listening in seeming
devotion to the long, wailing tones of her rival.
Sad and wonderful to hear was the music of this solitary king ;
like broken, dying sighs and sobs were its tones ; and the howling
wind, rushing in through the window, added its mournful wail to
Federick the Great's song of woe.
NOTES.
(PAGE 152.)
ODE TO COUNT BRttHL.
Inscription. "It is not necessary to make ourselves uneasy about the future."
"High Destiny's unhappy slave,
Absolute lord of too indolent a king,
Oppressed with work whose care importunes him
Briihl, leave the useless perplexities of grandeur.
In the bosom of thine opulence
T see the God of the wearied ones,
And in thy magnificence
Repose makes thy nights.
"Descend from this palace, whose haughty dome
Towering o'er Saxony, rises to the skies ;
In which thy fearful mind confines the tempest,
Which agitates at the court, a nation of enviers.
Look at this fragile grandeur,
And cease at last to admire
The pompous shining of a city
Where all feign to adore thee.
"Know that Fortune is light and inconstant;
A deceiver who delights in cruel reverses ;
She is seen to abuse the wise nan, the vulgar
Insolently playing with all this weak universe.
To-day it is on my head
That she lets her favors fall,
By to-morrow she will be prepared
To carry them elsewhere.
" Does she fix on me her wayward fickleness,
My heart will be grateful for the good she does me;
Does she wish to show elsewhere her benevolence,
I give her back her gifts without pain without regret.
Filled with strongest virtue,
I will espouse Poverty,
If for dower she brings me
Honor and probity."
572 FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY.
(PAGE 340.)
" Adieu, D'Argens 1 In this picture
Thou wilt see the cause of my death;
At least, do not think, a nothing in the vault,
That I aspire to apotheosis.
All that friendship by these lines proposes
la only this much, that here the celestial torch
May clear thy days while I repose,
And each time when the Spring appears anew
And from her abundant breasjt offers thee the flowers there enclosed
That thou with a bouquet of myrtle and rose
Wilt deign to decorate my tomb."
(PAGE 429.)
" Under a most happy omen,
The goddess of love
Wished that a new sacrifice
Should consecrate to her our bright days.
Already the fagots are lighted,
The altar glows, the incense fumes,
The victim is adorned
By love itself it is consumed,
The mystery accomplished."
(PAGE 430.)
" It is thine, swan of the Saxons,
To draw the secret from the miser Nature;
To soften with thy songs the hard
And detestable sounds of a barbarous tongue."
(PAGE 505.)
" This is not a sparrow
Kept in this cage.
It is one of those birds
Who sing in storms.
Open, friend of the wise,
Break iron and bolts,
The songs in your woods
Shall fly back to you."
(PAGE 505.)
"The nightingale sings, and this is the reason
That he is taken to sing in a prison.
See now the sparrow, who does so much evil,
Plays with life without fear of cages.
See in this portrait,
Which shows the effect
Of the good luck of rogues, and the misfortune of sages."
(5)
THE END.