by L. Mühlbach
CHAPTER IV.
IN BERLIN.
The utmost uneasiness and suspense prevailed in Berlin. Several rumorshad already reached the capital. It was reported that, on the 14th ofOctober, a battle had taken place between the Prussians and Frenchforces. To-day was the 18th, and no news had been received; nothingdefinite was known about the result of the battle. But the people said,if it had been favorable to the Prussians, the couriers, to whom joywould have lent wings, would have reached the capital long since; andthis continued silence and incertitude seemed to the inhabitants ofBerlin more discouraging than any positive intelligence, howeverdisastrous it might be.
No one had the heart to work longer--no one could be prevailed upon tofollow his usual avocation; all felt paralyzed by a secret terror; andhastened into the street, as though they hoped some decisive news wouldfly through the air and put an end to this dreadful suspense.
All Berlin seemed to have met in the streets on the morning of this 18thOctober, and the people hastened in vast crowds toward the house of thegovernor of the capital; they consisted to-day not only of the lowerclasses of society but the noblest and best had united with them. Men ofmind and education, the representatives of art and science, were to beseen among them. There was no distinction of rank or position--every onefelt that he was united with his fellow-citizens by the same care,anxiety, and affection; every one knew that all the thousandssurrounding him entertained the same wishes and apprehensions, and thussocial distinctions were unnoticed. The high-born and the rich, the poorand the lowly, all felt only that they were Prussians--that they wereGermans; all were animated by one desire; to learn what had been theresult of the battle, and whether the Prussians, faithful to theirancient military glory, had defeated the enemy, or, like the othernations, succumbed to Napoleon.
Thousands hastened, therefore, to the residence of the governor ofBerlin, Count von Schulenburg, and called vociferously for him. When thecount appeared on the balcony and asked what the crowd wanted, hundredsof voices shouted in thundering chorus: "We want to know whether thearmy has fought a battle, and whether it was defeated!"
Count Schulenburg shrugged his shoulders, and amid the silence thatensued his ringing voice was heard to say: "I have not yet received anydefinite intelligence; but so soon as I have it, I shall deem itincumbent upon me to communicate it to the citizens of Berlin."
The governor returned with tottering steps into his house. For a momentthe people remained silent, and seemed still to listen to the words theyhad just heard; but suddenly a loud, powerful voice shouted: "If thegovernor does not know any thing, perhaps Professor Lange does. He hasestablished a newspaper for the special purpose of communicating to usthe latest news from the seat of war; let us go to his house and ask himwhat the _Telegraph_ says."[8]
[Footnote 8: The _Telegraph_ was a journal founded by a certainProfessor Lange, on the day when the Prussian army left Berlin. In hisprospectus he spoke in the most fulsome terms of the "invincible army ofFrederick the Great," and promised to publish always the latest newsfrom the seat of war.]
"Yes, yes, let us go to his house and ask him what the _Telegraph_says!" yelled the crowd. "Where does Professor Lange live? Who can guideus to him?"
"I can do so," said the same voice that had spoken before. "ProfessorLange lives at 22 Leipsic Street."
"Come, come, let us go to Professor Lange! Let us hear what the_Telegraph_ says!" shouted the crowd, and hastened across the OperaPlace and Gensdarmes Market down Charlotte Street to the residence ofthe journalist.
"The _Telegraph_! the _Telegraph_!" yelled the people. "We want to knowwhat the _Telegraph_ says! Professor Lange, give us the news from theseat of war!"
A window on the first floor was hastily opened, and the pale, frightenedface of a gentleman looked out. "What do you want to see me for?" askeda tremulous and hollow voice. "Why do you mention the _Telegraph_?"
"We want news from the army! We want to know whether it is true that wehave lost a battle!"
"God forbid!" said the gentleman at the window. "I have not received anynews whatever for the last three days; I know only one thing, and thatis, that Cabinet Counsellor Lombard, who was at the headquarters of thearmy in Weimar, returned last night to Berlin, and is now at hisresidence. Counsellor Lombard, therefore, would be the man to whom youought to apply."
"Lombard! Lombard!" shouted the crowd, accompanying the name with bitterimprecations. When this name was heard, all faces turned gloomy, andevery voice assumed an angry and threatening tone.
"Lombard is to blame for every thing!" grumbled a few here and there,and "Lombard is to blame for every thing!" was repeated louder andlouder. The excitement was as when a storm, sweeping over the sea,lashes its waves, until, rising higher and higher, they foam with fury.
"Lombard sides with the French!" reiterated the surging mass. "He hassecretly informed the enemy of all the operations of our army, and ifthe Prussians are defeated, he will be glad of it. We will go toLombard, and he must tell us all he knows. But woe to him if the newsshould be bad!"
And the multitude with savage yells hastened down the street, back tothe Linden, and toward the residence of Cabinet Counsellor Lombard.
All the window-blinds of his house were closed, as they had been for thelast two weeks, since this well-known favorite of Minister von Haugwitzhad repaired to the headquarters of the army at Weimar. But ProfessorLange had stated, perhaps for the sole purpose of diverting the generalattention from himself, and of directing it toward the unpopular cabinetcounsellor, that Lombard had returned, and the people believed him.
"Lombard! Lombard!" shouted hundreds of voices. Eyes which had hithertolooked only sad and anxious became threatening; many a fist was liftedup to the closed windows, and many an imprecation uttered.
"If a disaster has taken place, it is Lombard's fault," cried one of thecrowd.
"If it is his fault, he shall and must atone for it," exclaimed another.
"He has no heart for Prussia's honor," said a third. "He is aGerman-Frenchman, and would not object if the whole of Prussia shouldbecome a French province. If he knew how to do it, he certainly wouldnot shrink from it, even should he bring captivity and distress upon theking and the queen!"
"He has already done much mischief," shouted another. "The Russian armywhich was to support ours ought to have been here long ago, but hedetained the dispatches in which the king informed the czar that ourarmy had advanced against the French. It is his fault that the Russianshave not yet arrived."
"It is his fault that the Russians have not yet arrived!" roared thewild chorus, and the furious men began to rush toward the house. Manyarmed themselves with stones, hurled them at the walls and broke thewindows; others commenced striking with vigorous fists at the closeddoor.
"Open the door! open the door! We want to see Lombard! He shall accountfor what he has done!" exclaimed the enraged men. "Woe to him if it betrue that we have lost a battle! Woe to him if--"
"Silence! silence!" suddenly thundered a loud, imperious voice. "See,there is a courier!"
"A courier! A courier!" and all rushed back from the house into thestreet; every eye turned toward the horseman, who approached at fullgallop.
As if obeying a military command, the multitude made way for him, but atevery step they closed behind him, and, pressing him on all sides, hisprogress was exceedingly slow.
But the courier, with his gloomy mien and pale cheeks, looked like abearer of bad news, and when the people had scanned his features, theymurmured, "He brings bad news! A disaster is written on his forehead!"
"Let me pass," he said in an imploring voice; "in the name of the king,let me pass!" And as he spurred his horse, the bystanders fell back inalarm.
"'In the name of the king!' the king, then, is still alive?"
"Yes, the king is alive!" replied the courier, sadly. "I have dispatchesfrom him for the Governor of Berlin and Cabinet Counsellor Lombard."
"And what do these dispatches contain?" asked a thousand voi
ces.
"I do not know, and even though I did, I am not at liberty to tell you.The governor will communicate the news to the inhabitants of Berlin."
"Tell us the news!" demanded the people.
"I cannot do so; and, moreover, I do not know any thing about it,"replied the courier, who had now reached Lombard's house, and whosehorse was again so closely surrounded that it was scarcely able to moveits feet.
"Do not detain me, my friends, I beseech you--let me dismount here,"said the courier. "I must deliver my dispatches to Cabinet CounsellorLombard."
"Oh, let him deliver his dispatches. We can afterward compel M. Lombardto communicate their contents."
"Yes; let him deliver his dispatches," said all; "Lombard shallpresently tell us what they contain."
The crowd stood back on both sides of the door, and busy hands wereready to assist the rider in dismounting. But before he had been able todo so, a voice from the rear was heard: "Ask him where the queen is atpresent!"
"Yes, yes, where is the queen? where is the queen?"
"The queen?" said he. "I passed her fifteen minutes ago near the cityand delivered dispatches to her, too. The queen? Look there!" And hepointed to the Brandenburg gate.
A carriage, drawn by six horses, was seen rapidly approaching.
"The queen! It is the queen!" joyfully shouted every one, and thethousands who had been a moment before so anxious to learn the news, andto call Lombard to account, rushed toward the carriage. Meantime thecourier, whose presence seemed to be entirely forgotten, dismounted, andrapped softly at the door. It was at once opened in a cautious manner,and a voice whispered: "Take your horse into the house. You canafterward ride through the garden, and out of the back gate to thegovernor's residence."
The door was hastily thrown open, and closed as soon as the courier hadentered with his horse. No notice was taken of this movement, for everyone thought only of the queen, and looked anxiously through the closedcoach windows.
"The queen! It is the queen!" exclaimed the people, greeting the belovedlady in the most rapturous manner. All arms were raised in sign ofrespect, and every voice uttered a welcome of "Long live the queen!"
The carriage window was lowered, and Louisa's beautiful face appeared;but she looked pale and afflicted; her eyes, generally so radiant,seemed dimmed and tearful; yet she tried to smile, and bowed repeatedlyto her enthusiastic friends, who rushed impetuously toward her, and, intheir exultation, forgetful of the rules of etiquette, seized the reinsand stopped the horses.
"We want to see our queen! Long live our Queen Louisa!" cried thousandsof voices. Those who stood nearest the carriage, and beheld hercountenance, fell on their knees in the fervor of their love, and eyesthat never before had wept were filled with tears; for she seemed as anangel of sorrow and suffering. She rose, and, leaning out of the coachdoor, returned the affectionate greetings of her faithful subjects, and,weeping, stretched out her arms as if to bless them.
"Long live the queen! Long live Louisa!" they cried, and those who heldthe horses, in order to stop the carriage, dropped the reins, rushedtoward the coach door, threw up their hats, and joined in the welcomecry. The coachman, profiting by this movement, drove onward. The people,whose desire had been satisfied in having seen their queen, no longerresisted, and permitted the carriage to roll away.
Louisa closed her coach window, and, sinking back upon the cushions,exclaimed in a heart-rending tone, "Alas! it is perhaps the last timethat they thus salute me! Soon, perhaps, I shall be no longer Queen ofPrussia!" She buried her face in her hands, and sobbed aloud.
"Do not weep," whispered Madame von Berg, the queen's intimate friend,who was sitting by her side, "do not weep. It may be a dispensation ofProvidence that the crown shall fall from your head for a moment, but Hewill replace it more firmly, and one day you will again be happy."
"Oh, it is not for the sake of my own majesty, and for my little worldlysplendor, that I am lamenting at this moment," said the queen, removingher hands from her face. "I should gladly plunge into obscurity anddeath if my husband and my children were exempted from humiliation, andif these good people, who love me, and are attached to their king,should not be compelled to recognize a foreigner as their master, andbow to him!"
"Even though the people should be subjugated at present," said Madamevon Berg, solemnly, "they will rise one day and avenge their disgrace!"
"Would you were a true prophetess!" exclaimed Louisa. "I hope the peoplewill remain faithful to us in adversity, and never forget their love fortheir king! Yes, I will hope for that day, and pray that it may comespeedily. I will weep no more; but remember that I am a mother, andshall see my children again--not to leave them, but to hasten with themto my husband, who is waiting for me at Kuestrin. In half an hour we mustcontinue our journey."
Just then the carriage drove past the main guard-house. The soldierspresented arms, and the drums beat.
A melancholy smile overspread the queen's features. "Do you rememberwhat Prince Louis Ferdinand said to his mother, on the eve of hisdeparture to the army?" she asked in a low voice.
"No, your majesty, I do not remember, and it is possible that I neverheard of it."
"The princess believed a defeat of our army to be utterly impossible,"said the queen. "She thought Prussia was so strong a bulwark that theproud assault of the French empire would be in vain. 'You are mistaken,'exclaimed Prince Louis Ferdinand; 'you think nothing will change, andthe drums will always be beaten when you ride out at the gate? On thecontrary, I tell you, mamma, one day you will ride out of the gate, andno drums will be beaten!' The same will happen to us, my dear--we willoften ride out of the gate, and no drums will be beaten. But here is ourhouse, and I must hide my tears. I will show a smiling face to mychildren."
The queen's carriage stopped for the first time at the doorsteps of thepalace without meeting there the ladies and gentlemen of the court, thehigh dignitaries and functionaries who had formerly never failed to waiton her. She had come without being expected, but on this day of anxietyand terror the announcement of her arrival would have made nodifference; for every one thought only of himself, and was occupied withhis own safety. Only a few faithful servants, therefore, received her,and bade her welcome with tearful eyes.
"Where are my children?" exclaimed the queen, anxiously. "Why are theynot here to receive their mother?"
"Your majesty," said the palace-steward, in a low voice, "a courier,sent hither by the king, arrived last night, unfortunately having failedto meet with your majesty on the road. The royal princes and princessesset out two hours ago to Stettin, and thence to Grandenz. Such were hismajesty's orders."
The queen suppressed the cry of pain which rose to her lips, but adeadly pallor overspread her cheeks. "In half an hour I shall set out,"she said faintly. "Pack up only the most indispensable articles for me;in half an hour I must be ready to enter my carriage. I shall, perhaps,overtake my children in Stettin." And she retired to her room,struggling to conceal the emotions that so violently agitated her.