Old Fritz and the New Era Part 43

"Yes, sire," answered Herzberg, as the king rose and slowly paced the room. "And one must acknowledge that in that she does well and n.o.bly.

Otherwise one cannot reproach her. She leads a quiet, retired life, very seldom leaving her beautiful villa at Charlottenburg, but devotes herself to the education of her children. She is surrounded with highly-educated men, savants, poets, and artists, who indeed all belong to the enlightened, the so-called Illuminati, and which are a thorn in the eye to Colonel Bischofswerder. Your majesty will perceive that I have some good informants in this circle, and the latest news they bring me is that the bad influence is upon the increase. The Rosicrucians reproach the prince for his immoral connection with Wilhelmine Enke, as they would replace her by one who gives herself up to them."

"That shall not take place," cried the king. "No, we will not suffer that; and particularly when we are forced to recognize such abominable connections, we should endeavor to choose the most desirable. I cannot permit that this person, who has at least heart and understanding, should be pushed aside by Bischofswerder. My nephew shall retain her, and she shall drive away the Rosicrucians with all their deviltries.

Herzberg, go and tell the crown prince, from me, that I order--"

His majesty suddenly stopped, and looked at Herzberg with surprise, who was smiling.

"Why do you laugh, Herzberg?"

"I was not laughing, sire. If my lip quivered against my will, it was because I stupidly and foolishly dared to finish the broken sentence."

"Well, how did you manage to conclude it?"

"Sire, your majesty said, 'Tell the crown prince that I order him'--and there you ceased. I added 'order him to love Wilhelmine Enke, and be faithful to her.' I beg pardon for my mistake. I should have known that your majesty could never command the execution of that which is not to be forced; that my great king recognizes, as well as I, that love is not compulsory, or fidelity either. Pardon me for my impertinence, and tell me the order which I shall take to the crown prince from my beloved king and master."

The king stepped close up to the minister, and gazed with a half-sad, half-tender expression in the n.o.ble and gentle face of Herzberg, and in the sensible brown eyes, which sank not beneath the fiery glance of Frederick. Then, slowly raising his hand from the staff, he menaced him with his long, bony forefinger.

"Herzberg, you are a rogue, and will teach me morals. Indeed, you are right--love is not compulsory, but one can sometimes aid it. Say nothing to the prince. The interior of his house must, indeed, be left to himself, but we will keep our eyes open and be watchful. Do so also, Herzberg, and if you discover any thing, tell me; and if Wilhelmine Enke needs a.s.sistance against the infamous Rosicrucians, and with her aid this mystic rabble can be suppressed, inform me, and I am ready to send her succor. Ah! Herzberg, is it not a melancholy fact that one must fight his way through so much wickedness to obtain so little that is good? My whole life has pa.s.sed in toil and trouble; I have grown old before my time, and would rest from my labors, and harvest in the last few years, what I have sown in a lifetime. Is it not sad that I hope for no fruit, and that the seed that I have scattered will be trodden under foot by my successor? I must gaze at the future without joy, without consolation!"

The king turned to the window, perhaps to hide the tears which stood in his eyes. Herzberg did not presume to interrupt the sad silence, but gazed with an expression of the deepest sympathy at the little bent form, in the threadbare coat. Grief filled his heart at the thought that this head was not only bowed down by the weight of years and well-deserved laurels, but also from its many cares and griefs, and hopeless peering into the future.

The king turned again, and his eyes were bright and un-dimmed. "We must never lose courage," said he, "and we must have a reserve corps in life as well as upon the field of battle. For the world resembles the latter, and the former is a continual war, in which we must not be discouraged nor cast down, if there is not hope in our souls. I will cling to As you have said, and I have also found it true, that crown prince is a good and brave man, and possesses a keen understanding, we may succeed in bringing him from the erroneous ways in which his youth, levity, and the counsels of wicked friends have led him. We will try with kindness and friendliness, as I believe these have more effect upon him. Let us not even scorn to aid Wilhelmine in so far as is compatible with honor. If a mistress is necessary to the happiness of the prince, this one seems the most worthy of all to encourage. Beyond the clouds the stars are still shining, and it appears to me as if I see in perspective in the heaven of Prussia's future, a star which promises a bright light with years. Do you not think with me, the little Prince Frederick William is a rising star?"

"Yes, your majesty," answered Herzberg, joyfully, "He is a splendid little boy, of simple and innocent heart, and bright, vigorous mind, modest and unpretending."

"You see," cried the king, evidently cheered, "there is one star and we will watch over it, that it is not obscured. I must see the prince oftener. He shall visit me every month and his governors and teachers shall report to me every quarter. We will watch over his education, and train him to be a good king for the future, and guard ourselves against being pusillanimous, foolish, and fretful, and not be discouraged in life. I have entered my last l.u.s.trum, or five years. Hush! do not dispute it, but believe me! My physique is worn out, and the mental grows dull, and although I live and move about, I am half in the grave.

There are two coffins in this room, which contain the greater part of my past. Look around, do you not see them?"

"No," said Herzberg, as he glanced at the different articles of furniture, "I see none."

"Look upon the table by the window--what do you there see?"

"Your majesty, there is an instrument-case and a sword-sheath."

"They are the ones I refer to. In the case lies my flute, that is to say, my youth, love, poesy, and art, are encoffined there. In the sheath is my sword, which is my manhood, energy, laurels, and fame. I will never play the flute or draw the sword again. All that is past!"

"But there still remains for the great king a n.o.ble work to perfect,"

cried Herzberg. "Youth has flown, and the war-songs are hushed. The poet and hero will change to the lawgiver. Sire, you have made Prussia great and powerful externally; there remains a greater work, to make her the same within. You have added new provinces, give them now a new code of laws. You will no longer unsheath the sword of the hero; then raise that of justice high above your subjects!"

"I will," cried the king, with beaming eyes. "You have rightly seized and comprehended what alone seems to me worthy of will and execution.

There shall be but one law for the high and the low, the poor and the rich. The distinguished Chancellor Carmer shall immediately go to work upon it, and you shall aid him. The necessity of such a reform we have lately felt in the Arnold process, where the judge decided in favor of the rich, and wronged the poor man. How could the judge sustain Count Schmettau against the miller Arnold, who had been deprived of the water for his mill, when it was so evident that it was unjust?"

"I beg pardon, majesty, but I believe the judge obeyed the very letter of the law, and--"

"Then this law must be annulled," interrupted the king. "This is why I revoked the judge's sentence, and sent the obstinate fellows to the fortress, sustaining the miller in his right deposing the arrogant Chancellor Furst. I had long resolved upon it, for I knew that he was a haughty fellow, who let the poor crowd his anteroom, and listened to the flattery of the high-born rabble who courted him. I only waited an occasion to bow his haughty head. This offered, and I availed myself of it, voila tout. It is to be hoped that it will be good example for all courts of justice. They will remember that the least peasant and beggar is a human being as much as the king, and that justice should be accorded to if they do not, they will have to deal with me. If a college of justice practises injustice, it is more dangerous than a band of robbers; for one can protect himself from the latter but the former are rascals wearing the mantle of justice, to exercise their own evil pa.s.sions, from whom no man can protect himself, and they are the greatest scoundrels in the world and deserve a double punishment. I therefore deposed the unjust judge, and sent him to the fortress at Spandau, that all might take warning by his fate." [Footnote: The king's own words.--Seo "Prussia, Frederick the Great," vol. iv.]

"This Arnold trial belongs to history," said Herzberg. "The lawyers will refer to it after the lapse of centuries, and the poor and the oppressed will recall and bless the thoughtfulness of the great king, who would open just as wide a gate for them to enter the heaven of justice as to the rich and n.o.ble. This new code of laws will beam above the crown of gold and of laurels, with the splendor of the civil crown, whose brilliants are the tears of grat.i.tude of your people."

"May it be so," said Frederick, with earnestness. "Now tell me, do you know what day of the month it is?"

"Sire, it is the 30th of May.'"

"Yes, you will remember it is the anniversary of Voltaire's death, and after I have quarrelled for two years with the priests and so-called holy fathers at Rome, I have gained my point, and the honor shall be shown him here in Berlin which the priests and friars have refused to the immortal poet in his own country. To-day, exactly at the hour which Voltaire died, the ma.s.s for the dead will be read in the Catholic church, to free his immortal soul from purgatory. I have, indeed, no idea of an immortal soul. If there are any, and if it has to endure the threefold heat of which Father Tobias, of Silesia, related to me, I do not believe that the priests, for a few thalers, can loose the unhappy spirit from the bake-oven. But as they refuse burial to the spirit of Voltaire, in order to insult him after death, so must I avail myself of this occasion to offer a last homage to the great poet, which will take place at four o'clock. Go to the ma.s.s, Herzberg, and tell me to-morrow how it went off--whether the priests make right pious faces and burn much incense. Adieu. Au revoir, demain."

As the king dismissed, with a friendly wave of the hand, his confidential minister, he pa.s.sed into his cabinet, remaining an hour with his counsellors. At dinner appeared some of the generals, weather-worn and bent, with wrinkled faces and dull eyes. Souvenirs of the glorious years of fame and victory. The king nodded kindly to them, but during the entire meal, he only let some indifferent questions fall from his lips, which were devotedly and tediously answered by some one of the old generals. As their dry, peevish voices resounded through the high, vaulted room, it seemed to reawaken in Frederick's heart the souvenirs of memory and become the echo of vanished days. He gazed up at the little Cupids, in the varied play of bright colors, looking down from the clouds, and the G.o.ddesses trumpeting through their long tubes the fame of the immortal, the same as formerly, when they smiled from the clouds upon the beaming face of the young king, dining in the distinguished circle of his friends Voltaire, D'Argens, Algarotti, La Melbrie, and Keith.

The Cupids were fresh as ever, and the G.o.ddesses had not removed the trumpets from their lips. But where were the of the merry round-table?

Returned to dust. The jests and poesy have died away--all have sunken to decay and darkness. The king silently raised his gla.s.s of Tokay, gazing up to the clouds and Cupids, draining it slowly in sacrifice for the dead. Then with a vehement, contemptuous movement, he threw the gla.s.s over his shoulder, shivering it into a thousand pieces. The old generals, after dessert, had gently sunk into their afternoon nap, and now started, frightened, looking wildly around, as if they expected the enemy were approaching. Alkmene crept from under the king's chair m.u.f.fing with her long, delicate nose, the glistening pieces of gla.s.s, and the footman bent himself to carefully pick them up.

The king rose silently, saluting the old generals, pointing with his staff to the large folding-doors which led to the garden.

The footmen hastened forward to open them, and stand in stiff, military order upon each side. Frederick walked slowly out, mounting the two steps which led to the upper terrace, signing to the attendants to close the doors.

He was alone. Only Windspiel was there to spring about joyfully, barking, and turning to meet him, who wandered on the border of the terrace, where he had formerly walked with his friends. Now he stopped to gaze up the broad, deserted steps which led from terrace to terrace, as if he could re-people them with the well-known forms, and could see them approach and greet him with the look of endless love and constancy.

Then he raised his eyes to heaven, as if to seek there those he in vain sought upon earth.

"Do you not see me, my friends?" he asked, in a gentle but sad voice.

"Do you not look down wonderingly where you saw a cheerful, smiling king, upon the now bent, shrunken old man, cold and phlegmatic, who seldom speaks, and then causes every one to yawn? Oh, where have you fled, beautiful spring-time of life--wherein once we used to enliven our conversations with the wit of the Athenians, and the jest fluttered upon our lips as we glided through life in the bold enjoyment of youth? Banished is the dance, and I creep about, leaning upon my staff, enfeebled in body, and with saddened heart! Oh, awful change, unhappy old age! What does it aid me that I am a king? I have won many a battle, but now I am vanquished by age and death and am alone!" [Footnote: The king's words.--See "Posthumous Works," vol. x., p. 100.]

A slight breeze rustled through the trees, fanning, caressingly, the cheeks of the king. The perfume of sweet flowers rose from the terrace, and below rushed the cascade. The marble groups around the fountain glistened in the golden rays of the sun, and in the dark foliage fluttered and sang the merry birds of summer.

Suddenly the wind wafted from the church at Potsdam the clear tones of a bell, announcing to the king the hour of four, the death of Voltaire.

The king walked along to the rose-arbor, to the temple of friendship, where the bust of his sister Frederika was placed. He seated himself near the entrance, listening to the ringing voice of the bell, and recalling that the death-ma.s.s had now commenced in Berlin.

The service sacred to memory! The prayer for the immortal soul! As the lonely king sat there, calm and bowed down, a solemn prayer and holy ma.s.s rose from his own soul. He bowed lower his head, and, without realizing it himself, traced letters in the sand at his feet, with no witness but the blue heavens above him, and Windspiel who curiously eyed the lines. Thinking of the prayer for Voltaire's undying soul, the king had written the word of profoundest mystery and revelation, of hope and prophecy--"Immortality."

The wind gently rustled in the trees, wafting the perfume of flowers.

Sweet stillness reigned around, and lowly sang the birds as if not to waken the king, who slept by the marble form of his beloved sister--Windspiel upon his knees, and in the sand at his feet the word traced by his own hand, "Immortality."

CHAPTER XXIX. CAGLIOSTRO'S RETURN.

Wilhelmine Enke was still living at her villa at Charlottenburg. She was, as formerly, the "unmarried" daughter of the hautboy-player, the favorite and friend of the crown prince; the same as two years previous, when he presented her before the Bavarian campaign, with this house and There was no change in her outward circ.u.mstances; her life pa.s.sed regularly and calmly. The once fresh and beautiful cheek had lost somewhat of its youthful, roseate hue, and the smile of the ruby lips was less haughty, and the warmth of those brilliant eyes was subdued.

This was the only perceptible difference wrought by the little vexations and troubles incident to her position. She had found some bitter drops in the golden goblet which the prince in his love pressed to her lips--drops which were uncongenial to lips accustomed to the sweets of life.

To-day she had awaited him at dinner, and had just received a very friendly but laconic letter, excusing himself until the following morning. This was an unpalatable drop. Wilhlemine paced back and forth the solitary, gloomy path, at the foot of the garden, re-reading this letter, and examining every word to search out its hidden meaning.

"They have brought this about," she murmured, tearing the letter into little pieces, which lighted upon the shrubbery like b.u.t.terflies. "Yes, it is their work. They have sought by all possible means to draw him into their power, and away from me. And they will succeed, as there are two of them, and the princess sustains them; and I am alone, unsupported. I am entirely alone--alone!"

"If you are alone, then, it is surely your own fault," said an earnest, solemn voice, and at the same instant a tall form approached from the shrubbery which bordered the side of the garden.

"Cagliostro!" shrieked Wilhelmine, shrinking terrified away. "Oh, mercy upon me, it is Cagliostro!"

"Why are you so frightened, my daughter?" he asked, gently. "Why do you withdraw from me, and cast down your eyes?"