THE CROWN PRINCESS QUELLS A RIOT
Asked to play the coward, and I refuse--A hostler who would die for
a look from me--Hostler marriages in royal houses--Anecdotes and
unknown facts concerning royal ladies and their offspring--Refuse
police escort and rioters acclaim me--Whole royal family proud of my
feat.
DRESDEN, _July 3, 1900_.
Behold Louise, a political personage!
I was driving with my little ones in the _Bois_ yesterday afternoon. We
occupied an open court carriage, conspicuous for livery and magnificent
horse-flesh, for I love display and the children enjoy it. We were
driving along leisurely enough when there was hasty clatter of hoofs and
wheels behind. Presently a royal _coupe_ dashed up alongside.
The Tisch stuck her head out:
"Imperial Highness--the town's in revolt.--Socialist riot. They are
marching upon the palace.--For the love of God, return at once. Your
Imperial Highness must take a seat in this inconspicuous carriage. We
will change to the first _Droschke_ we meet, going through
side-streets."
"My dear Baroness," I answered, "it's not in my nature to shirk peril.
If I were to be hanged and quartered and could avoid that unpleasantness
by changing from my carriage to a cab--I would be hanged and quartered.
Take the children and return to the palace any way you like.
"As for me, I'll go back as Her Imperial Highness, the Crown Princess of
Saxony, and my coachman will drive slowly."
I kissed the children, and the _coupe_ rolled away at a sharp clip.
Calling the coachman by name, I commanded him: "You heard what my Grand
Mistress said. Riot or no riot, I am solely responsible for my own
safety. You will take orders from no one but me, neither from the mob
nor the police."
The coachman lifted his hat respectfully and bowed a submissive "At Your
Imperial Highness's orders." The groom, a young, good-looking fellow,
struck the broadsword at his side.
"There is some good steel in this, Your Imperial Highness," he said with
sparkling eyes. I believe this poor fellow would have died for a single
look from me.
Among royal servants, the most devoted are those connected with the
_Marstall_. No wonder so many of my sisters born on the steps of the
throne, fell in love with their Master of Horse or equerries; some with
mere hostlers, like Queen Christina of Spain, the mother of my aunt
Isabelle, of amorous memory. Her lover, Munoz, of the Body Guards, was
a famous equestrian and two years younger than Christina. He managed
horses so well, she thought it would be great fun to boss this giant.
But it ended by the brute lording it over her, the "Catholic Majesty."
By the way, I wonder what became of Christina's and Munoz's several
children. While they lived together from 1833 to 1844 without the
sanction of either law or church, they were "regularly married" in the
end, the hostler, Munoz, metamorphosing into Duke Rianzares. Yet the
_Almanach de Gotha_ knows not their progeny when, as "love children,"
they should live long and happily.
Another "hostler-marriage" occurred in the family of the proud Kaiser,
the contracting parties being Princess Albrecht of Prussia and a groom,
whose name I forget. This Princess, Marianne of the Netherlands, brought
the first "real" money into the Hohenzollern family, and her husband,
Albrecht, was long regarded the Croesus among German princes.
After the divorce, His Royal Highness forced the ex-wife to marry the
hostler, and the bloom of forbidden love having worn off in the
meantime, Marianne seldom passed a day without being soundly beaten by
the plebeian. Maybe she liked it. Some women do.
Today her offspring with Master Fisticuffs are sturdy farmers in
Silesia, but two of the three sons she had with the royal Prince, as
well as the sons the royal Prince had with his second wife, Rosalie von
Rauch, are degenerates. Rosalie's sons are known as Counts Hohenau and
the wife of the elder, Fritz, is giving my astute and pious cousin, the
Kaiserin, considerable heart-ache.
Curious, isn't it? The children of the "adulteress" are successful men
and women, aids in the progress of the world; those of the blood royal,
in double or single doses, a menace to public morality. This much for
your royal inbred custom.
But back to Dresden. The order to drive slowly was soon rescinded, for I
was burning to see a riot at close range. "_Plein carriere_," I
commanded, and my fast _Carrossiers_ went at a tremendous rate for two
miles. The moment I saw, in the distance, knots of people standing round
or moving in the direction of the palace, I cried: "_Schritt_," and we
proceeded as leisurely as if following a funeral.
As we turned around a corner, a detachment of gendarmes, sent to watch
for me, hove into sight. Their commanding officer signalled frantically
to the coachman to stop, but George had his instructions and proceeded.
The officer spurred his horse and rode up to me, questioning me with his
eyes.
"My orders," I explained.
"Then I must escort Your Imperial Highness."
"Don't."
"Strict orders from my superior officer, Your Imperial Highness," and
the gendarmes formed a _cordon_ around my carriage.
I was furious. "Send for your commander."
The captain of the gendarmes could not be found at once and joined my
cavalcade only when we were opposite a living wall of excited people,
nearly all of them workmen.
"What is Your Imperial Highness's pleasure?" asked the captain, bending
down from his horse.
"Send your men away instantly."
"But the responsibility?"
"Rests with me and with me only. Send them away. Every one of them."
The mob was watching us. I read suspicion in the eyes of those nearest.
The captain gave the sign and the troopers turned their horses' heads,
saluting me with their drawn swords.
"May I act as Your Imperial Highness's out-rider?" asked the captain in
a low voice.
"Don't trouble yourself. I command you."
The groom had been watching us. I gave the signal and we proceeded at a
pace. The rampart of human bodies swung open and lined the sides of the
streets. Someone cried: "Three cheers for the Crown Princess," and
everyone responded.
These Socialists, whom I had been taught to hate and despise, behaved
in exemplary style. When I dismissed their tyrants, the gendarmes, they
immediately took me under their protection. I am sure anyone daring to
insult me, or raise a hand against me, would have fared badly at the
hands of his fellows.
I was all smiles, bowing right and left. Labor agitators raised their
hats to me, mothers offered their children that I might pat their little
hand, or lay mine on their head--a veritable triumph!
When I drove into the palace yard, the Guards rushed out to do me honor.
The Queen, the King and Prince George saluted me from the windows of
their apartments.
Frederick Augustus embraced me in front of everybody. In short I was
made a hero of.
I afterwards learned that as soon as the palace knew of the incipient
riot, the King sent word to all members of the royal family, ordering
them to stay in their apartments. They were even forbidden to show
themselves at the windows overlooking the palace square.
Learning that I had gone driving, mounted grooms were dispatched in all
directions to intercept me. The Tisch, being responsible for the royal
children, got the fastest team the court commands and started for the
_Bois_.
It gave me some satisfaction to observe that I arrived before her. Of
course, I never doubted the children's safety.
The evening papers devoted columns to the little incident and Prince
George had the great sorrow to hear the King say: "A dare-devil, that
Louise, but she did the right thing. By pretending confidence in the
loyalty of the people, she successfully gulled them. The riot's back was
broken when she showed a bold front."