MY POPULARITY RENDERS GEORGE DYSPEPTIC
The Cudgel-Majesty--Prince George's intrigues--No four-horse coach
for Princess--Popular demonstration in my favor--"All-highest"
displeasure.
DRESDEN, _September 1, 1893_.
I haven't lived up to my promise to keep a daily record, or even a
weekly one. Those tales of my girlhood days disgusted me with diary
keeping as far as my early experiences at home went and I reflected that
many of the subsequent happenings in my life might be safer in the
shrine of memory, than spread over the pages of a blank-book, even
though no one sees it and I carry its golden key on a chain around my
neck.
We are back in the capital now and things are moving. Great doings had
been planned for our reception, for the re-entry of the little prince,
my baby, and his mother who is expected to give another child to Saxony
at the end of the year. Two babies in one year! I am going to beat the
German Empress, and if Wilhelm doesn't send me a medal I will cut him
dead the next time I see him!
Well, about that reception. Flags, triumphal arches, speeches by the
burgo-master, white-robed virgins at the station and all that sort of
thing!
But Father-in-law George said "no." Anything that gives joy to others
goes against his royal grain, gives him politico-economic dyspepsia. He
doesn't want me to be popular,--neither me, nor Frederick Augustus, nor
the baby.
George will be the next king, and if the Dresdeners or the Saxons want
to "_Hoch the King_," they must "_Hoch_" George. They MUST. "It's their
damned duty," says George the Pious, who never blasphemes on his own
account, but allows himself some license concerning his subjects. His
attitude recalls the story told of Frederick William the First of
Prussia, whose appearance on the streets of Berlin used to cause
passers-by to run to save their back. Upon one occasion His Majesty
caught one of these fugitives, and whacking him over the head with his
Spanish reed, cried angrily: "What do you want to run away from me for?"
"Because I'm afraid of your Royal Majesty," stuttered the poor devil.
"Afraid?" thundered Frederick William, giving the fellow another whack
with his cane. "Afraid?"--the beating continuing--"when I, your King,
commanded you to love me. Love me, you miserable coward, love God's
Anointed." And the loving Majesty broke his cane on the unloving
subject's back.
Two days before our arrival Prince George sent his adjutant, Baron de
Metsch-Reichenbeck, to the Mayor of Dresden, stopping all reception
arrangements contemplated.
To have children was a mere picnic to Her Imperial Highness, lied
George's messenger,--if the physicians hadn't used chloroform I would
have perished with the torture. Ovations intended as a sort of reward or
recognition of my services to the country, then, would be entirely out
of place, and must not be thought of.
The municipality thereupon officially abandoned preparations. I was a
little vexed when I first heard about George's meanness, yet again felt
tickled that he went out of his way to intrigue against me, the despised
little princess of a House that ceased to reign. And I had an idea that
the Dresdeners would give us a good welcome anyhow.
I had contemplated ordering my special train to leave in the early
morning or at noon, but the Ministry of Railways informed me that it was
impossible to accommodate me at the hours mentioned.
"We will take the ordinary express, then, and will be in Dresden at four
in the afternoon," I suggested.
"According to the new schedule, the express doesn't stop in Dresden,"
protested Frederick Augustus.
"We will command it to stop," I cried.
Frederick Augustus looked at me as if I had asked him to borrow twenty
marks from the Kaiser. "For God's sake!" he cried, "don't you know what
happened to John the other day?"
I confessed my ignorance.
"Well," said Frederick Augustus, "John ordered the Continental express
to pick him up at his garrison, and he had no sooner arrived in Dresden
than he was commanded by the King to appear before him. His Majesty
walked all over John, accusing him of 'interfering with international
traffic' and forbidding him to issue another order of that character."
"Pshaw!" I said, "John is merely a childless princeling. I am the mother
of Saxony's future king. The regeneration, the perpetuation of your race
depends on me."
It was a mere waste of breath, for at that moment came a telegram,
announcing that our special was billed to leave at 3:30, getting us to
Dresden at half-past five--King's orders.
"Did you command the _Daumont_ coach-and-four to meet us at the
station?" I asked.
"My dear child, you are dreaming," replied Frederick Augustus. "The
State carriages are the property of the Crown and we don't own a
four-horse team in Dresden. They will send the ordinary royal carriage,
I suppose."
I 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
_coupe_ 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 _Fraeulein 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 _souriciere_ 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.