Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia

by L. Mühlbach

  CHAPTER LIII.

  HOMEWARD BOUND.

  The 15th of December, 1809, was dawning. Queen Louisa had long lookedfor this day with a throbbing heart, and now that it had come, she feltembarrassed and anxious. It was the day when the royal family were toleave Koenigsberg and return to Berlin, where the court was again toreside. Since the 3rd of October the French troops and authorities hadleft the capital, and Berlin was once more a Prussian city, yearning forthe return of its king and queen.

  The carriages were at the door; the princesses, wrapped in fur robes,were in the anteroom and awaited the queen, whose toilet had long sincebeen finished. But Louisa had not yet left her sitting-room. The kingmade his appearance, ready to set out, and was somewhat surprised at notfinding her with her daughters.

  "The queen does not know, perhaps, that the carriages are at the door,"said the king. "I will inform her that it is time for us to start." Hewalked rapidly through the adjoining rooms and noiselessly opened thedoor of the queen's sitting-room.

  Louisa, wrapped in her travelling-robe, sat on the sofa, her handsfolded, her face bathed in tears, and her eyes uplifted with animploring expression. She did not immediately notice the king, who, asif in profound reverence, stood at the door. The queen was praying--howcould he dare to disturb her!

  At last she lowered her eyes, and suddenly saw that her husband waspresent. "Oh, my friend," she exclaimed, rising hastily, "my thoughtswere with you, and on taking leave of these rooms where, owing to yourlove, I have enjoyed, these last years, so much calm and sacredhappiness, I prayed that God cause it to accompany us to our futureresidence."

  "But while praying you wept, Louisa?" asked the king. "I hoped that thedays of tears were past, and that my Louisa would become again as merryand light-hearted as she used to be. Do you not like to return toBerlin?"

  The queen looked down musingly. "I cannot tell you," she said,thoughtfully. "When I think that I shall soon be in Berlin, and meetagain the faithful people, my heart is joyful, and then again I shedmany tears when I consider that, while I may find every thing there asformerly, there may in reality be sad changes, and I do not know how Imay be affected. Dismal forebodings are troubling me; I should like bestto sit always alone, behind my little lamp, and indulge in myreflections. I am longing for Berlin, and yet I am almost afraid to gothere."

  "What are you afraid of?" asked the king, pressing his wife tenderlyagainst his breast.

  "I believe I am afraid of prosperity," she said, with a gentle smile. "Ihad become entirely resigned, and forever bidden farewell to outwardsplendor, so that its return surprises and almost alarms me. Oh, mybeloved friend, will it not destroy the humbled, inward repose, which,during the time of privation, was our support, and the only source ofour happiness?"

  "It is true," said the king, smiling, "during these quiet years here atKoenigsberg, I was so happy as to have my wife, the charming consoler ofmy afflictions, always at my side; henceforth, the queen will often takemy wife from me, and thousands of hearts which will welcome you sorapturously, will separate me often enough from my ideal. But I am notjealous, and the more my beautiful queen is honored, the greater will bemy happiness. Come, my Louisa, let us go! the carriages are inreadiness, and the children are waiting for us; but, before we leavethis quiet room, accept again my thanks for the fidelity and kindnessyou have manifested toward me during my misfortunes. I am indebted toyou for many alleviations of the sorrows which weighed me down. I am nota man of many words and cannot make fine phrases, but here in my soul Ifeel fervently that God has placed you at my side as an angel ofconsolation for the days of adversity, and of happiness for those ofprosperity. Because I love you, I gave your name to our youngestdaughter, born here at Koenigsberg. May she become a Louisa!"

  "And may our sons inherit the noble spirit and the faithful and devoutheart of their father!" exclaimed the queen, deeply moved. "May theybear adversity like him, without despondency, and enjoy prosperitywithout haughtiness! Oh, my friend, why will we say, then, that we arereturning to Berlin poorer and less powerful than when we left the citythree years ago? No, we return richer and more powerful: for we leftwith five children, and we return with seven--seven hearts that love us,and belong to us. Do they not constitute wealth and power? Come, myhusband, let us hasten to our children! and with what a mother's prideshall I show our treasures to the good people of Berlin!" She smiled anddrew the king along; her eyes, from which the tears had long sincedisappeared, were now radiant with love and joy--not a shade ofmelancholy was to be seen in her countenance when she embraced herchildren.

  The journey to Berlin could be performed but slowly and in short stages.The snow-clad roads were almost impassable. Besides, every city andvillage through which the royal family journeyed, would have its shareof congratulation. They were greeted with triumphal arches, and hymnsand addresses of welcome. No one had escaped the miseries of war;mourning mothers and wives, amid the ruins of a former prosperity, wereeverywhere to be seen; but all this was forgotten during those happyhours when the people, delivered at length from foreign oppression,rejoiced again in the presence of the sovereigns who had endured thesame afflictions. The whole journey resembled a triumphalprocession--everywhere enthusiastic receptions and love-offerings!

  On the eighth day at noon they arrived at the village of Weissensee, aleague from Berlin. The shouts of thousands of happy people receivedthem. The whole population had gathered at the roadside in order togreet the returning king and his family, and at the entrance of thevillage were halting fifty young citizens of Berlin mounted on finehorses. They had been commissioned by the inhabitants of the capital toescort the carriage in which Louisa was to make her entry, and which thecitizens desired to present to her. It was a splendid gift, richlydecorated with silver, and lined with violet velvet, the favorite colorof the queen. The eight magnificent horses attached to the carriage woreviolet harness, adorned with silver rings and buckles. The queen enteredit with her daughter Charlotte and her third son, Prince Charles; theking and the two oldest princes mounted on horseback.

  "Now, Louisa," said the king, riding up, "we have nearly reached ourdestination. There are the spires of Berlin; in half an hour we shall bethere. But how pale you are, and your lips quiver! Are you unwell? Areyou suffering?"

  "No," she said; "I live only in my heart, which is throbbing as thoughit were ready to burst. Oh, I believe that one may die of joy. But sucha death must be very happy!"

  "But you shall live in joy," said the king, smiling. "Farewell now,Louisa; I must leave you. According to the ceremonial, I must be withthe princes at the head of the procession. _Au revoir_ at our house inBerlin!"

  "_Au revoir_," said the queen, leaning back on the cushions of thecarriage. "Charlotte," she said to the princess sitting at her side,"when we are near the gate, tell me. I want to be surprised, and, untilI have reached the dear city, I will look at the sky, and remember thatit is the same sky that was over us at Memel in the days of our deepestaffliction." She threw back her head. Her eyes, blue and pure as heavenitself, were looking up, and the bright firmament seemed to inspire herwith devout and grateful thoughts. Prayers were in her heart, and thememories of other days mingled with her prayers. It was exactly sixteenyears since she made her entry into Berlin as a happy young bride. Atthat time, life was as the flowery spring, and she saw before her in herhopeful dreams only a world of happiness, love, and glory. She was thena bride, beautiful, loving, and beloved by her young husband, theinheritor of a kingdom. Now, at her second entry, she was sixteen yearsolder, a matron of thirty-four, and a mother of seven children. Thestorms of life had passed over her, destroying many of her hopes. Herheart had been shaken as well as the throne of her husband. The ills ofcommon mortals had befallen the king and his consort, and it was nottheir innate dignity and majesty that had enabled them to bear up, buttheir warm human feeling; it was not their self-reliance that hadconsoled them, but the faith that God, the Father of all, would bemerciful to them, if, conscious of their impotence, t
hey recognized Hisprovidence and believed in His wisdom and goodness.

  The queen thought of all this, and compared the entry of the bride,rejoicing in the dreams of her young love and in the reality of worldlypower, with the entry of the mother and queen, disappointed in her hopesand robbed of her dominion.

  "And yet it is better to-day," she murmured, "I am richer now than I wasthen. My heart is richer, my soul is stronger, I--"

  "Mamma," exclaimed the Princess Charlotte, "I see already the Bernauergate! Oh, hear the shouts, look at that triumphal arch!"

  The queen turned her eyes toward the city. The cheers of the peoplesounded in her ears like the early greetings of her happiness, andfilled her soul with ecstasy. As the king, between his sons, rode intothe gateway, the bells rang, and the cannon shook the ground. When thequeen's carriage entered, the soldiers formed in line on both sides ofthe street, and behind them surged a dense crowd of men and women.Nothing was to be seen but happy, smiling faces; love was beaming fromevery eye, and with bells, cannon, waving hands, and the cheers of hercitizens, Berlin greeted the return of her sovereigns.

  The king acknowledged these demonstrations with a grave, thoughtfulface; he saluted the people affectionately, but his countenance grewsad. He thought of the many faithful subjects whom he had lost, of thecities and provinces which had been taken from him, of the grievous andbloody sacrifices of the last years; he remembered that he was returningto his ancestors, possessed only of the smaller portion of theinheritance which they had left him, and these reflections overshadowedhis joy.

  The queen only felt and thought of the happiness of her return. Thesethousands of hearts throbbing for her, this crowd of greeting men abouther carriage to see her and shout words of welcome, filled her soul withprofound emotion. She did not restrain her tears, and was not ashamed ofthis expression of her feelings. She wept, smiled, and rejoiced with herpeople.

  When the cheers reechoed through the street as she passed, the queenexclaimed aloud: "What grateful music this is! It sounds in my ears assacred, and the city seems a vast cathedral! Charlotte, my beloveddaughter, listen! but with a devout heart. There is hardly any thingmore solemn and yet delightful to a princess than the cheers of hersubjects. She who deserves them must return the people's love, andsympathize in their joys and sufferings. My daughter, if you yourselfshould one day wear a crown, think of this hour, and let the affectionof the people now occupy your heart.--But, my child, there is our house,the dear old house where you children were born! What persons arestanding in front of it? Who are they waving their handkerchiefs towardus? The beloved sisters of your father, the Princesses of Orange andHesse! Who is that tall gentleman at their side? It is my father, myhonored father!" The carriage drove up to the portal of the royalpalace. "Welcome!" cried the princesses. "Welcome!" shouted the crowd,filling the large square in front.

  The queen did not utter a word; but, stretching out her arms toward herfather, she greeted him with a smile, while the tears rolled over hercheeks.

  The duke pushed the footmen aside and opened himself the door of hercarriage, when the queen, disregarding all etiquette, threw her armsround his neck, and kissed him. The people who witnessed this touchingscene, became silent. With folded hands and tearful eyes they admiredher who had ever been an affectionate and grateful daughter as well as abeneficent sovereign, and their prayers ascended to heaven for herwelfare. Half carried in the arms of her father, Louisa entered thepalace, and ascended the staircase. The doors of the largereception-room were open. The king met her; her two oldest sons stoodbehind him, and her two youngest children, held up by their nurses,stretched out their little arms toward her. She joyfully hastened intothe room. "Come, my children," she exclaimed with a smile, "come, myseven radiant stars!"

  She took the two youngest children, Albert, not yet three years, andLouisa, one year old, in her arms; the five other children walking byher side, and thus, in the midst of these "seven stars," she approachedher father. Bending her knee before him, she exclaimed: "Grandfather!here are your grandchildren; here is your daughter, who, with herchildren, asks for your blessing, and here is the most faithful andbeloved man, my husband! Oh, father, honor him, for he has preserved toyour daughter her happiness!" She placed the two youngest ones at thefeet of the duke, and took the king's hand, which she pressed to herbosom.

  The king, who was afraid lest this excitement should become injurious tothe feeble health of his wife, after saluting the duke and his ownsisters in a cordial manner, proposed an inspection of the rooms oftheir so long deserted house.

  "Yes!" exclaimed Louisa, "let us show my beloved father the temple ofour happiness; and the good spirits around us no doubt welcome him andus. Come!" Walking between her father and her husband, and followed bythe princesses and her oldest sons, the queen hastened through the suiteof rooms, hallowed by the remembrances of other days, and which nowseemed to her as beautiful as the halls of a fairy-palace. "Howtasteful, how brilliant!" exclaimed Louisa. "Formerly, the magnificenceof these rooms did not strike me at all; but now I am able to perceiveand appreciate it. Our houses at Memel and Koenigsberg were much plainer,and I thought of the beauty of our residence at Berlin.--Ah, and thereis my piano! Oh, how often have I longed for it! Will you grant me afavor, my king and husband?"

  "The queen is in her own rooms; she has to ask no favors here, but onlyto command," said the king.

  "You will then permit me to salute the good spirits of our house withmusic, and to sing a hymn of welcome to them?" asked the queen.

  The king smilingly nodded, and Louisa, hastening to the piano, quicklytook off her gloves, and sat down on a chair in front of the instrument.Her fingers swept over the keys in many brilliant cadences. Her face wascheerful, but gradually she became grave, and, turning her large eyestoward heaven, her concords were slow and solemn. She thought of thepast--of the day when, seized with forebodings, she sang here a hymnwhich she repeated at the peasant's cottage during her flight toKoenigsberg, when her presentiments were fulfilled. Her hands playedalmost spontaneously that simple and beautiful air, and again she sangwith emotion:

  "Who never ate his bread with tears, Who never in the sorrowing hours Of night, lay sunk in gloomy fears, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers!"[49]

  [Footnote 49:

  "Wer nie sein Brot mit Thraenen ass, Wer nie die kummervollen Naechte Auf seinem Bette weinend sass, Der kennt Euch nicht, Ihr himmlischen Maechte!"