Secret Memoirs: The Story of Louise, Crown Princess. Fischer Henry William

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СКАЧАТЬ was mad enough to wish my husband's family to Hades, the whole lot of them, but the people of Dresden took revenge in hand and dealt most liberally. Of course, having fixed our arrival at a late and unusual hour, George expected there would be no one to welcome us, but the great concourse of people that actually assembled at the station and in the adjacent streets, lining them up to the palace gates, was tremendous instead.

      One more disappointment. George had sent an inconspicuous, narrow coupé to the station, – the Dresdeners shouldn't see more than the point of my nose. I saw through his scheme the moment I clapped eyes on that mouse-trap of a vehicle standing at the curb.

      And then I remembered the brilliant stagecraft of August the Physical Strong – he of the three hundred and fifty-two – and how he always managed to focus everybody's eyes on himself. And I stood stockstill on the broad, red-carpeted terrace when I walked out of the waiting room and held up my baby in the face of the multitude. You could hear the "Hochs" and Hurrahs all over town, they said. Hats flew in the air, handkerchiefs waved, flags were thrust out of the windows of the houses.

      "What are you doing, Imperial Highness?" whispered Fräulein von Schoenberg, my lady-in-waiting.

      "Never mind, I will carry the baby to the carriage," I answered curtly.

      "But the King and Prince George will be angry, – everything will be reported to them."

      "I sincerely hope it will," I said.

      And before I entered that petty souricière of a royal coach, I danced the baby above my head time and again, giving everybody a chance to see him. And as I stood there in the midst of this tumult of applause, this waving sea of good-will, this thunder of jubilation, I felt proud and happy as I never did before. And when the thought struck me how mad George would feel about it all, I had to laugh outright.

      I was still grinning to myself when I heard Frederick Augustus's troubled voice: "Get in, what are you standing around here for?" – These manifestations of popularity spelt "all-highest" displeasure to him, poor noodle. He anticipated the scene at the palace, George fuming and charging "play to the gallery," the Queen in tears, the King threatening to banish us from Dresden.

      "Be it so," I said to myself, "we might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb." And I refused to enter the carriage until I had waved and smiled profound thanks to everybody in the square and in the windows and on the balconies of the surrounding houses.

      I saw the Master of Horse address the coachman and immediately divined his purpose. So I pulled at the rope and commanded the coachman to drive slowly. I said it in my most imperious manner, and the Master of Horse dared not give the counter order with which Prince George had charged him. Poor man, his failure to subordinate my will to his, or George's, cost him his job.

      And so we made our royal entry into Dresden amid popular rejoicings. I glued my face to the carriage window and smiled and smiled and showed the baby to everyone who asked for the boon.

      Baby took it all in a most dignified fashion. He neither squalled nor kicked, but seemed to enjoy the homage paid him.

      When we reached the palace there was another big crowd of well-wishers, who shouted themselves hoarse for Louise and the baby, and, malicious thing that I am, I noticed with pleasure that it all happened under George's windows.

      "This will give father-in-law jaundice," said baby's nurse in Italian. She is a girl from Tuscany and very devoted to me.

      "If he dies, I will be Queen the sooner," thought I, – but happily I didn't think aloud.

      CHAPTER XI

      SCOLDED FOR BEING POPULAR

      Entourage spied upon by George's minions – My husband proves a weakling – I disavow the personal compliment – No more intelligent than a king should be.

      Dresden, September 5, 1893.

      I wrote the foregoing at one sitting, without interruption. It's not so easy a matter to put down the consequences of our triumph, or rather mine and baby's.

      When I entered my apartments, I met a whole host of long faces. The Commander of the Palace, in great gala, offered a most stiff and icy welcome. The adjutants, the chamberlains, the maître d'Hôtel, all looked ill at ease. They evidently felt the coming storm in their bones and didn't care to have it said of them, by George's spies, that they lent countenance, even in a most remote way, to my carryings-on. Even the Schoenberg – my own woman – shot reproachful glances at me when the Commander of the Palace happened to look her way.

      Frederick Augustus looked and acted as if he was to be deprived of all his military honors.

      "Your courage must have fallen into your cuirassier boots, look for it there," I said to him in an undertone when he seemed ready to go to pieces at the entrance of the King's grand marshal, Count Vitzthum.

      With that I advanced towards His Excellency and, holding out my hand to be kissed, took care to say to him with my most winning smile,

      "I trust His Majesty will be pleased with me, for of course our grand reception was but a reflex of the love the people have for their King. I never for a moment took it as a personal compliment."

      My smart little speech disconcerted the official completely. Maybe he had orders to say something disagreeable, but my remark disarmed him, forestalled any quarrel that might have been in the King's or Prince George's mind.

      Frederick Augustus, who is no more intelligent than a future king should be, was so amazed, he had to think hard and long before he could even say "Good evening" to the Count. As for the latter, he hawed and coughed and stammered and cleared his throat until finally he succeeded in delivering himself of the following sublime effort:

      "I will have the honor to report to His Majesty that during the time of your Imperial Highness's entry, your Imperial Highness thought of naught but the all-highest approval of His Majesty."

      Whereupon I shook his hand again and dismissed him. "It will please me immensely, Count," I said, "immensely."

      CHAPTER XII

      ROYAL DISGRACE – LIGHTNING AND SHADOWS

      Ordered around by the Queen – Give thanks to a bully – Jealous of the "mob's" applause – "The old monkey after 'Hochs'" – Criticizing the "old man" – Royalty's plea for popularity – Proposed punishments for people refusing to love royalty.

      Dresden, September 8, 1893.

      Thrice twenty-four hours of royal disgrace and I am – alive. This morning: "All-highest order," signed by Her Majesty's Dame of the Palace, Countess von Minckwitz: "The Queen is graciously pleased to invite your Imperial Highness to audience."

      Of course her pleasure is a command. I dressed in state and ordered all the ladies and gentlemen of my court to attend me to the royal chambers.

      Queen Carola was very nice, giving the impression that she would be more lovely still if she dared.

      "Prince George has just commanded your husband," she said, – "the King ordered this condescension on my brother-in-law's part. You will have to thank him for it."

      Isn't it amusing to be an Imperial Highness and a Crown Princess to be ordered around like a "boots" and to be "commanded" like an orphan child to say thanks to one's betters!

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