A ROYAL FIASCO.
(HISTORICAL ANECDOTES.)
A village on the coast of northern Germany, where the Elbe flows intothe North Sea, was my birthplace, its parsonage, my childhood's home.
Two great earth-dikes which sheltered our village from fiercesouthwesterly gales were the only barrier standing between untoldthousands of lives and watery graves, for the coasts of Holland andnorthern Germany are below the level of high tides.
It is known that through inundations caused by breaks in these levees,occurring as late as the tenth and eleventh centuries of our era morethan three hundred thousand persons with all their domestic cattle weredrowned over night.
These dikes which extend for many miles along the banks of the riverwere erected by the systematic herculean toil of generations of ourancestors.
According to a popular tradition it was Rolof, the dwarf, a thrall ofVulcan, who taught my forefathers the art of forging tools from ironore, enabling them to battle successfully against the might of Neptune.
They blunted the angry sea-god's trident with their plows and shovelsand repulsed him at the very threshold of his element, stemming theinroads of hungry seas with their stupendous handiwork which stillstands intact, an imposing monument to the memory of my forebears,being their children's children's most precious inheritance.
On the soil which my ancestors reclaimed from the sea they foundedtheir homes and sowed grasses and cereals.
But ere long a dire calamity came over the land, for at the command ofthe revengeful Neptune his mermaids spewed sea-foam into the river'sfresh water addling it with their fish-tails into a nasty brine.
Luckily the good dwarf who in his youth had served his term ofapprenticeship at the court of King Gambrinus and was therefore masterof the noble craft of brewing kindly taught my forefathers to brew afoaming draught from the malt of barleycorn, which thereafter theydrank instead of water.
And now all seafaring men who navigate the river Elbe between Cuxhavenand Hamburg are still troubled with a tremendous thirst which nothingbut foaming lager beer may quench.
The founding of the village's church dates from the conversion of Saxontribes who inhabited that country. The chapel's original walls werebuilt of rock, but its newer part was constructed of brick-work duringthe fourteenth century.
Our domicile, the parsonage, although not quite as ancient, was a verypicturesque ruin with its moss-covered roof of thatched straw, underwhich a flock of sparrows made their homes; but a modern building, howprosaic-looking it might be, or deficient in uniqueness and the charmof its surroundings, would undeniably have made a better, more sanitaryand comfortable residence.
Mother, at least, thought this when father landed her, his blushingbride at the ancient parsonage in a rain storm which compelled them toretire for the night under the shelter of an umbrella; and thus thehoneymoon of their married life waxed with uncommon hardship.
Later the old leaky house received a tile roof, part of it was removedand with it the room where first I saw the light of day.
That was a cold day for father indeed, as there was another mouth to befed then, a very serious problem for a poor parson to solve.
When my aunt remarked that I looked like a "monk" father eyed methoughtfully, saying: "Perhaps there is something to Darwin's theoryafter all," but mother took me to her arms, withering her sister withscornful glances of her flashing eyes. "Certainly does he look like amonk, the poor little tiddledee-diddy darling," she said; "what elsewould you expect of him, being the son of a preacher and a descendantof priests?"
On a certain fateful summer day when assembled at dinner we heard therumble of wheels as an imperial post-chaise hove into view, lumberinglazily past the parsonage.
The postillion's horn sounded a letter-call and my sisters rushed out,racing over our lawn to the gate, in order to take the message. Theyreturned with a large envelope bearing great official seals, both girlsstruggling for its possession and fighting like cats for the privilegeof carrying the precious document. Mother's face was wreathed in smilesof ecstacy.
"Your salary, papa," she whispered, but father was very solemn. "No,dear, it is not due," he answered. He took the missive from my sister'shands and turned it over and over, guessing at its contents untilmother who was favored with more of that quality which is commonlycalled "presence of mind" urged him to open it, and see.
An ashen pallor spread over father's countenance, the letter droppedfrom his hand and he would have fallen if mother had not caught him inher arms. She grabbed the evil message, slipping it into the bosom ofher gown, where it could do no further harm.
Then she guided father's faltering steps to the sanctity of his studio,where he wrote his sermons and closed the door.
My sisters availed themselves of the opportunity to make a raid onmother's pantry, but I, poor little innocent, waited in the corridorfor mother's return, dreading to hear the worst. I heard my dear fathergroan aloud and bemoan his fate and listened to mother's soothingsympathetic words as she begged father to be calm and bear it like aman and a Christian.
When at last mother came out I flew to her. She took me to her arms,kissing my tear-stained face.
"Poor little boy," she said, "cheer up and you shall have a big cookie,don't you cry!"
"Oh, mamma," I faltered, "will papa die?"
"No, sonny, that he won't," said she with a determined glint of hereyes and a twitching of the corners of her mouth, "for I won't let him;but he does suffer anguish!"
"Oh, tell me, mamma, what misfortune has befallen us," I cried.
"It is very sad," said mother. "Your father, who is the finest speakerin the country, has been commanded by a worshipful senate and mosthonorable civic corporation of the Free City of Hamburg to appearbefore the visiting king in full dress, and officiate as orator of theday at a reception to be tendered his majesty by our city"--here motherbroke down completely, overwhelmed by grief and wept copiously into herhandkerchief.
"Oh, oh," I wailed, "do say it, mamma!"
"And--and your father has no coat!" she sobbed. "Poor man, he fearsdisgrace and dreads the loss of preferment and of a royal decoration,perhaps. He will have to feign sickness as an excuse for his absence;but I hope he realizes now how degraded and unhappy I must feel with mylast year's gowns and made-over millinery--and your poor sister'sancient bonnets, I dare not look at them any longer!"
"But papa has a coat," I said, "a royal Prince Albert!"
"True," answered mother, "but it has no swallow's tails!"
"A Prince Albert has no swallow-tails?" I gasped wonderingly; "but ithas great, long tails, surely!"
"Oh, now I see," an idea flashing through my mind; "it has cock-tails,has it, mamma, and it can't swallow them, can it, mamma?"
"Oh my, oh my!" screamed mother, "you are the funniest little chap toask me questions. Go, ask pussy!"
Then I went into the back yard to interview my favorite playmate, ourbig, black tomcat, and aroused him from his cat nap. But he blinkedsleepily only, saying nothing.
However, speech was not to be denied me in that manner, for I held thecombination which unlocks the portals of silence. I gave the handle adouble twist and he spat and spluttered: "Sh--sh--sht--t--t!"
As may be imagined, my father passed a sleepless night in the solitudeof his studio. He wrestled with a host of demons and made a good fightof it; for finally in the small hours of morning he overcame the evilspirit of worldly ambition and with true Christian humility, his soulpurified by vanquished temptation, resigned himself unreservedly, goodman that he was, to the mandate of a cruel fate. He began to write hissermon for the Sabbath, and being spiritually chastened andbattle-sore, naturally his thoughts dwelt on melancholy topics.Therefore, he took the text of his sermon from the Lamentations ofJeremiah, chapter 3, v. I:
"I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of His wrath."
It may be stated here that on the next Sabbath, from "firstly" to"seventhly" for two long hours father pondered over t
he uncertaintiesof earthly life, and that on this occasion he delivered the mosteffective sermon of his pastoral career.
When father had written his sermon he resumed work on an unfinishedvolume of historical sketches which he prepared for future publication.
Meantime mother, who was busy with a pleasanter task wascorrespondingly cheerful. She altered father's "Prince Albert" into astately full-dress coat, ripping up its waist-seams, and pinned backthe skirts of the coat into the proper claw-hammer shape.
Then she took that other garment which goes with the long waistcoat andthe full-dress coat of a courtier's suit, in hand.
This article had not been mentioned before by anyone, as there was agoodly supply of it known to be in mother's wardrobe. Deftly cuttingthe lace away, a few inches above the knees she placed somemother-of-pearl buttons and bows of ribbons and with few stitchesfashioned a beautiful pair of courtier's small clothes, orknickerbockers, for father's use.
Father had begun a description of the battle of Waterloo, for nothingso touched a responsive chord in his mind as the recording of a mostfearful catastrophe, the direst calamity known to history, nor servedas well to alleviate by comparison his mind's distress andmortification.
Just as he wrote the sentence, "Alas for Napoleon, here set his luckystar; not only was his misfortune repeated, but also his final downfallaccomplished when Blucher's tardy cavalry appeared on the field,turning the tide of battle in favor of the British"--in came motherwith happy, triumphant laughter, unfolding and flaunting to the breezethe so anxiously wished-for full-dress suit.
"Julia, darling, you have saved the day, oh you are so clever," shoutedfather, joyfully embracing her; "but I say!" he exclaimed in startledsurprise, "where on earth did you get this--er--trousseau? Do youreally think I shall need those?"
"Yes, indeed you shall, dearest, when you are going to court," repliedmother. "Here you have everything needed except the silken hose whichyou must buy."
"But you have a plenty of long-limbed stockings," said father,wrinkling his brow.
"My good man, look here now!" answered mother, bristling, "well enoughyou know that all my stockings are very old and holey!"
"Oh, darn them!" growled father testily.
"Wilhelm, do you wish the king to see my stockings then?" cried mamma,angrily.
"But, my dear, you know that he can't see, as he is stone-blind," saidfather.
"So he is, Wilhelm, and for that very reason he could not find thethrone of England," snapped mother, "but never was he blind as you tohis queenly wife's unfashionable appearance, nor was he ever deaf toher demands for something decent to wear!"
And mother, as always when it came to ultimate extremes, finally gainedher point, for father loved her dearly and dared not deny her.
On the following day arrived the king, for whose reception our townshiphad made grand preparations. Festoons of evergreen decorated theroadway from the parsonage to the opposite house, and mother and mysisters were stationed at our gate with an abundance of roses to strewin the king's path.
From the steeple pealed the chimes, heralding his majesty's arrival. Hetraveled in an open landau, which was drawn by six milk-white Arabiansteeds and surrounded by a select escort of young men who were hissubjects and served as his guard of honor.
They wore scarfs of the royal colors over breasts and shoulders.
A courtier sat on either side of the king for the purpose of advisinghim and to direct his movements.
Poor man, he turned his sightless white eyes on us, bowing to theladies in acknowledgment of their curtesies and roses.
This king was very unlike his royal namesake predecessors, as he waspitied by everyone and not envied or hated. I must confess to havingbeen sorely disappointed with this sight of royalty, for I thought aking must be an extraordinary being, expecting to see a double-header,as kings and queens are pictured on playing cards, the kings holdingscepters in their left hands and bearing a ball with their right, but Isaluted and shouted as everyone else did, and when my sisters peltedthe royal equipage with their roses I shied my cap at his majesty, atwhich the people who saw this laughed as loudly as they dared in thepresence of a king. I expected also to see a military display, butthere were no soldiers present, because the king traveled "incognito,"which means that it was forbidden to reveal his royal identity. He wassupposed to be a plain nobleman merely, "Herr von Beerstein" forinstance.
But a king, who is human after all, may wish to enjoy himself as othersdo and desire to associate occasionally with ordinary people. So "Herrvon Beerstein" goes to a beer garden in quest of a pleasing companionwho is readily found, for he has money to burn and invests it freely.
An obliging bar-maid introduces him to her lovely cousin and theyretire to a lonely seat in the most secluded spot of the garden.
"Herr von Beerstein" now places his heart and purse in the keeping ofhis gentle companion, who calls directly for "zwei beers."
Now follows a repetition of the old, old legend that yet is always newand ever recurring in the romance of mutual love on sight, two heartsbeating as one and in the love that laughs at locksmiths, but as thecourse of true love seldom runs smooth, now with the maiden's oftrepeated calls for "lager" "Herr von Beerstein" grows by stagessentimental, incautious and then so reckless that "presto!" before heis aware of any danger to himself he has stopped Cupid's fatal dartwith his royal personal circumference. Maddened with pain he exhibitssymptoms of a most violent passion and becomes very aggressive. But thecunning maid appeals to the protecting presence of Fritz, the waiter,with other calls for beer, whispering in the ear of her love-lornswain: "Nine, mine lieber Herr von Beerstein, ven you has married meonce alretty, nicht wahr? Ach vas, den shall you kiss me yet some more,yaw!"
Thus she tantalizes the poor man until he becomes desperate under thestrain of an unrequited love and as a last resort he places his handover his heart, bares the bosom of his shirt and exposes the insigniaof royalty, flashing the sovereign's star before her eyes. Humbly,overcome with shame and remorse at the thought of having trifled withher king's affections, and prompted by her pitiful exaggerated notionof loyalty the poor thing kneels before his majesty, craving his pardon.
With royal hands the king uplifts her, graciously kissing her rosebudmouth and when she says: "Your majesty's slightest wish is a command tome, your servant!" and is about to surrender her loveliness to Cupid'sforces and temporarily lose her heart, but her soul forever--in thevery nick of time comes her guardian-angel to the rescue.
When she, poor little gray dove, lies trembling in the royal falcon'stalons a head rises up and peeps over the fence, for the royal star hasbeen seen through a crack between the boards, its knowing, sly grinpassing into the lusty shout:
"Heil dem koenig, hoch, hoch!"
An excited crowd rushes from all directions, cheering: "Ein, zwei,drei, hurrah!" while a constable places the damsel under arrest,charging her with lese majeste. When, however, his majesty intercedesmost graciously the your lady is promptly released, and restored tofreedom.
But the constable's fee that she must pay--in earthly power, not even aking can save her from it, for that is a "trinkgeld" and she pays itfrom the royal purse.
On the evening of the king's arrival I accompanied my father to thecastle where the reception royal took place. There were no ladiespresent on this occasion. The king was, as has been said, totallyblind, but indulged in the curious habit of feigning to have anunimpaired eye sight and pretended to admire scenic objects which hadbeen pointed out to him beforehand as though he really saw them,carrying out this illusion to the extent of ridiculousness. It is saidthat at a hunt-meet a courtier incurred his royal displeasure throughthese incautious words: "Sire, you shot this hare from a next toimpossible distance, condescend to feel how fat it is!"
As the poor man failed to say "See how fat," he fell promptly intodisfavor, which is equivalent to being blacklisted in our country.
The king's general behaviour suggests that he deemed his blindne
ss notmerely to be a most regrettable misfortune, but that he regarded it asa deserved culpable affliction.
When a small boy I was told that he lost his eyesight through an act ofcharity. He drew a purse from his pocket, intending to give a beggar anaim when his horse shied violently, causing the steel-beaded tassels ofthe purse to injure his eyes.
Later, as I grew older, I heard a different tale:
The king as a student, then being crown-prince of the realm, foundpleasure in looking at the wine which was red, and at a pair of eyesthat were blue and shone like heavenly stars, oh so gently andtenderly! But he looked, alas, once too often--into eyes that blazedwith lurid flames of hate and fury--the terrible eyes of the green-eyedmonster. There came a flash as of lightning with a loud report and hesaw stars that fell fiercely fast until they vanished under a cloud ofawful gloom in the hopeless despair of perpetual night; but theglorious luminous star of day for him shone not again, nevermore, onearth! To this day I know not which version tells the truth.
The castle's grand hall was overflowing with people. I followed in thewake of father, who had fallen into line, advancing gradually towardthe august presence of a crowned king. Nervously father awaited histurn to bask for one anxious moment in the sunshine of royal favor andtouch a king's hand.
I slipped away unperceived to the kitchen, knowing well the premises ofthis fine old castle which was kept in good repair by the city ofHamburg, its present owner. It had been won by conquest of arms in 1394A.D. from the noble family "Von Lappe."
The principal occupation of these knights was the waylaying and robbingof merchants; but the wrecking of ships was their favorite, mostprofitable pastime.
The kitchen was in the basement of the castle and great in size, itsfloor paved with slabs of stone, the walls and ceilings were paneled inoak. On one side of the room were stone-hearths with blazing fires,over which hung pots and brazen kettles. Game and meats broiled onspits, there being no cook-stoves in those days. Heavy doors, strappedwith great wrought iron hinges and studded with ornamental scroll-workled into pantries and cellars.
The place swarmed with liveried servants and cooks; also the king hadbrought his "chef de cuisine and own butler. The latter, a lordlyEnglishman, was a grand, haughty person who superintended theextravagant preparations for the entertainment of royalty.
A maid conducted me to a corner where I was out of harm's way andregaled me with delicacies when the courses were served, oh it wasfine! The chef prepared certain dishes for the king and I saw thebutler taste of the viands that were placed on crown-marked dishes ofporcelain and gold. He also tasted the king's wine.
When at last I grew sleepy, kind maids arranged a couch of snowy linenfor me, and I slept until the banquet royal was over when the guestsreturned to their homes.
But me lord, the butler, eyed me with questioning curiosity.
"Aw me lad, h'and where did your father get 'is blooming costume?" heasked.
"Mother supplied it, good sir," I answered.
"Hi say, me lad," he laughed, "your mother h'is a grand lydie, you tikeme word for h'it; h'in h'England they would decorate that suit with theh'order h'of the garter!"
"Honi soit, qui mal y pense!" I lisped.
Tales of Aztlan; The Romance of a Hero of Our Late Spanish-American War, Incidents of Interest from the Life of a Western Pioneer and Other Tales Page 14