Frederick the Great and His Court Part 46

"For you, also, my king, will the days of quiet be over; your holy and happy hours with poetry, philosophy, and the arts, must be given up.

The favorite of Apollo will become the son of Mars; we who are left behind can only look after you, we can do nothing for you, not even offer our b.r.e.a.s.t.s as a s.h.i.+eld against danger and death."

"Away with such thoughts," said Frederick, smiling; "death awaits us all, and if he finds me on the field of battle, my friends, my subjects, and history will not forget me. That is a comfort and a hope; and you, Jordan, you know that I believe in a great, exalted, and almighty Being, who governs the world. I believe in G.o.d, and I leave my fate confidently in His hands. The ball which strikes me comes from Him; and if I escape the battle-field, a murderous hand can reach me, even in my bed-chamber; and surely that would be a less honorable, less famous death. I must do something great, decisive, and worthy of renown, that my people may love me, and look up to me with confidence and trust. It is not enough to be a king by inheritance and birth, I must prove by my deeds that I merit it. Silesia offers me a splendid opportunity, and truly I think the circ.u.mstances afford me a solid and sure basis for fame."

"Alas! I see," sighed Jordan, "that the love of your subjects, and the enthusiastic tenderness of your friends, is not sufficient for you; you would seek renown."

"Yes, you are right; this glittering phantom, Fame, is ever before my eyes. I know this is folly, but when once you have listened to her intoxicating whispers, you cannot cast her off. Speak not, then, of exposure, or care, or danger; these are as dust of the balance; I am amazed that this wild pa.s.sion does not turn every man's head."

"Alas! your majesty, the thirst for fame has cost thousands of men their reasons and their lives. The field of battle is truly the golden book of heroes, but their names must be written therein in blood."

"It is true," said the king, thoughtfully, "a field of battle is a sad picture for a poet and a philosopher; but every man in this world must pursue his calling, and I will not do my work half way. I love war for the sake of fame. Pity me not, Jordan, because these days of illness and peace and gayety are over; because I must go into the rough field, while you amuse yourself with Horace, study Pausanias, and laugh and make merry with Anacreon. I envy you not. Fame beckons me with her alluring glance. My youth, the fire of pa.s.sion, the thirst for renown, and a mysterious and unconquerable power, tears me from this life of indolence. The glowing desire to see my name connected with great deeds in the journals and histories of the times drives me out into the battle-field.[16] There will I earn the laurel-wreaths which kings do not find in their cradles, or upon their throne, but which as men, and as heroes, they must conquer for themselves."

[16] The king's own words.

"The laurel will deck the brow of my hero, my Frederick, in all time,"

said Jordan, with tears in his eyes. "Oh! I see before you a glorious future; it may be I shall have pa.s.sed away--but where will my spirit be? When I stand near you and look upon you, I know that the spirit is immortal. The soul, n.o.ble and G.o.d-like, will be ever near you; so whether living or dead I am thine, to love you as my friend, to honor you as my sovereign, to admire you as a gifted genius, glowing with G.o.dly fire."

"Oh, speak not of death," said the king, "speak not of death; I have need of you, and it seems to me that true friends.h.i.+p must be strong enough even to conquer death! Yes, Jordan, we have need of each other, we belong to each other; and it would be cruel, indeed, to rob me of a treasure which we, poor kings, so rarely possess, a faithful and sincere friend. No, Jordan, you will be my Cicero to defend the justice of my cause, and I will be your Caesar to carry out the cause happily and triumphantly."

Jordan was speechless; he shook his head sadly. The king observed him anxiously, and saw the deep, feverish purple spots, those roses of the grave, upon the hollow cheeks of his friend; he saw that he grew daily weaker; he heard the hot, quick breathing which came panting from his breast. A sad presentiment took possession of his heart, the smile vanished from his lips, he could not conceal his emotion, and walking to the window he leaned his hot brow upon the gla.s.s and shed tears which none but G.o.d should see. "My G.o.d! my G.o.d! how poor is a prince! I have so few friends, and these will soon pa.s.s away. Suhm lies ill in Marschau; perhaps I shall never see him again. Jordan is near me, but I see death in his face and he will soon be torn from my side."

Jordan stood immovable and looked toward the king, who still leaned his head upon the window; he did not dare to disturb him, and yet he had important and sad news to announce. At last Jordan laid his hand upon his shoulder.

"Pardon, my king," said he, in trembling tones, "pardon that I dare to interrupt you; but a hero dare not give himself up to sad thoughts before the battle, and when he thinks of death he must greet him with laughter, for death is his ally and his adjutant; and even if his ally grasps his nearest and best beloved friend, the hero and the conqueror must yield him up as an offering to victory."

The king turned quickly toward the speaker. "You have death news to give me," said he curtly, leaning against the back of his chair. "You have death news for me, Jordan."

"Yes, news of death, my prince," said he, deeply moved; "fate will accustom your majesty to such trials, that your heart may not falter when your friends fall around you in the day of battle."

"It is, then, a friend who is dead," said Frederick, turning pale.

"Yes, sire, your best beloved."

The king said nothing; sinking in the chair, and grasping the arms convulsively, he leaned his head back, and in a low voice asked, "Is it Suhm?"

"Yes, it is Suhm; he died in Marschau. Here is his last letter to your highness; his brother sent it to me, that I might hand it to your majesty."

The king uttered a cry of anguish, and clasped his hands before his pallid face. Great tears ran down his cheeks; with a hasty movement he shook them from his eyes, opened and read the letter. As he read it he sighed and sobbed aloud: "Suhm is dead! Suhm is dead! the friend who loved me so sincerely, even as I loved him. That n.o.ble man, who combined intellect, sincerity, and sensibility. My heart is in mourning for him; so long as a drop of blood flows in my veins I will remember him, and his family shall be mine. Ah, my heart bleeds, and the wound is deep."

The king, mastered by his grief, laid his head in his hand and wept aloud. Then, after a long pause, he raised himself; he was calm and stern. "Jordan," said he, firmly, "death hath no more power over me, never again can he wring my heart; he has laid an iron s.h.i.+eld upon me, and when I go to battle I must be triumphant; my friend has been offered up as a victim. Jordan, Jordan, my wound bleeds, but I will bind it up, and no man shall see even the blood-stained cloth with which I cover it. I have overcome death, and now will I offer battle and conquer as become a hero, and a king. What cares the world that I suffer? The world shall know nothing of it; a mask before my face, and silence as to my agony. We will laugh and jest while we sorrow for our friend, and while we prepare to meet the enemy. We will PLAY Caesar and Antonius now; hereafter we may really imitate them. Come, Jordan, come, we will try 'The Death of Caesar.'"

CHAPTER VIII.

THE FAREWELL AUDIENCE OF MARQUIS VON BOTTER, THE AUSTRIAN AMBa.s.sADOR.

This was to be a fete day in the royal palace of Berlin. The king intended giving a splendid dinner, after which the court would take coffee in the newly furnished rooms of the dowager queen, and a mask ball was prepared for the evening, to which the court, the n.o.bility, and higher officials were invited.

The court mourning for the emperor was at an end, and every one was determined to enjoy the pleasures of the carnival. Never had the court led so gay, so luxurious a life. Even the good old citizens of Berlin seemed to appreciate this new administration, which brought so much money to the poorer cla.s.ses, such heavy profits to tradesmen. They believed that this extravagant court brought them greater gains than an economical one, and were therefore contented with this new order of things.

The king had refurnished the palace with an unheard of splendor. In the apartment of the queen-mother there was a room in which all the ornaments and decorations were of ma.s.sive gold. Even the French and English amba.s.sadors were astonished at this "Golden Cabinet," and declared that such splendor and magnificence could not be found in the palaces of Paris or London. The people of Berlin, as we have said, were becoming proud of their court and their king, and they thought it quite natural that this young ruler, who was only twenty-eight years old, should interest himself very little in the affairs of State, and should give his time to pleasure and amus.e.m.e.nt.

The king had accomplished his desire. No one suspected the deep seriousness that he concealed under this idle play. No one dreamed that this gay, smiling prince, on whose lips there was always a witty jest or bon mot; who proposed a concert every evening, in which he himself took part; who surrounded himself with artists, poets, and gay cavaliers, with whom he pa.s.sed many nights of wild mirth and gayety--no one dreamed that this harmless, ingenuous young prince, was on the point of overthrowing the existing politics of the European states, and of giving an entirely new form to the whole of Germany.

The king had not raised his mask for a moment; he had matured his plans under the veil of inviolate secrecy. The moment of their accomplishment had now arrived; this evening, during the mask ball which had been prepared with such pomp and splendor, the king with his regiments would leave Berlin and proceed to Silesia. But even the troops did not know their destination. The journals had announced that the army would leave Berlin to go into new winter quarters, and this account was generally believed. Only a few confidants, and the generals who were to accompany the king, were acquainted with this secret. The king, after a final conference, in which he gave the last instructions and orders, said:

"Now, gentlemen, that we have arranged our business, we will think of our pleasure. I will see you this evening at the ball; we will dance once more with the ladies before we begin our war-dance."

As the generals left him, his servant entered to a.s.sist at his toilet.

Pelissier, the French tailor, had prepared a new and magnificent costume for this evening, made in the latest Parisian style. The king desired to appear once more in great splendor before exchanging the saloon for the camp. Never had he bestowed such care upon his toilet; never had he remained so patiently under the hands of the barber; he even went to the large mirror when his toilet was completed, and carefully examined his appearance and costly dress.

"Well," he said, smiling, "if the Marquis von Botter is not deceived by this dandy that I see before me, it is not my fault. The good Austrian amba.s.sador must be very cunning indeed if he discovers a warrior in this perfumed fop. I think he will be able to tell my cousin, Maria Theresa, nothing more than that the King of Prussia knows how to dress himself, and is the model of fas.h.i.+on."

The king pa.s.sed into the rooms of the queen-mother, where the court was a.s.sembled, and where he had granted a farewell audience to the Marquis von Botter, the amba.s.sador of the youthful Empress of Austria.

Frederick was right: the marquis had been deceived by the mask of harmless gayety and thoughtless happiness a.s.sumed by the king and court. He had been sent by the empress with private instructions to sound the intentions of the Prussian king, while his apparent business was to return her acknowledgments for the congratulations of the King of Prussia on her ascension to the throne.

The Marquis von Botter, as we have said, had been deceived by the gay and thoughtless manner of the king, and Manteuffel's warnings and advice had been thrown away.

The marquis had withdrawn with Manteuffel to one of the windows, to await the entrance of the king; the ladies and gentlemen of the court were scattered through the rooms of the queen-mother, who was playing cards with Queen Christine in the golden cabinet.

"I leave Berlin," said the marquis, "with the firm conviction that the king has the most peaceful intentions."

"As early as to-morrow your convictions will be somewhat shaken,"

replied Manteuffel, "for this night the king and his army depart for Silesia."

At this moment the king appeared at the door of the golden cabinet.

There was a sudden silence, and all bent low, bowing before the brilliant young monarch.

Frederick bowed graciously, but remained in the doorway, glancing over the saloon; it appeared to afford him a certain pleasure to exhibit himself to the admiring gaze of those present. He stood a living picture of youth, beauty, and manliness.

"Only look at this richly-dressed, elegant young man," whispered Marquis von Botter; "look at his youthful countenance, beaming with pleasure and delight; at his hands, adorned with costly rings, so white and soft, that they would do honor to the most high-bred lady; at that slender foot, in its glittering shoe. Do you wish to convince me that this small foot will march to battle; that this delicate hand, which is only fitted to hold a smelling-bottle or a pen, will wield a sword? Oh!

my dear count, you make me merry with your gloomy prophecies."

"Still I entreat you to believe me. As soon as your audience is over, hasten to your hotel, and return to Vienna with all possible speed; allow yourself no hour of sleep, no moment for refreshment, until you have induced your empress to send her army to Silesia. If you do not, if you despise my advice, the King of Prussia will reach Silesia before you are in Vienna, and the empress will receive this intelligence which you do not credit from the fleeing inhabitants of her province, which will have been conquered without a blow."

The deep earnestness of the count had in it something so impressive, so convincing, that the marquis felt his confidence somewhat shaken, and looked doubtfully at the young monarch, who was now smiling and conversing with some of the ladies.

But even in speaking the king had not lost sight of these two gentlemen who were leaning against the window, and whose thoughts he read in their countenances. He now met the eye of the marquis, and motioned to him to come forward. The marquis immediately approached the king, who stood in the centre of the saloon, surrounded by his generals.

Every eye was turned toward the glittering group, in which the young king was prominent: for those to whom the intentions of the king were known, this was an interesting piece of acting; while for the uninitiated, who had only an uncertain suspicion of what was about to happen, this was a favorable moment for observation.

The Austrian amba.s.sador now stood before the king, making a deep and ceremonious bow. The king returned this salutation, and said:

"You have really come to take leave, marquis?"

"Sire, her majesty, my honored empress, recalls me, and I must obey her commands, happy as I should be, if I were privileged, to sun myself still longer in your n.o.ble presence."