the Lepsius household. The hours of leisure were agreeably spent in the
favorite diversions of the husband, boccia in the garden, and chess in
the house. New guests were added to the old. Among them were Wichern the
founder of the “reformatory for vagrant children” at Hamburg, whose
efforts filled Frau Elizabeth with enthusiasm, von Putlitz the poet, and
the charming Erdmann from Halle, who seasoned many a meal for them with
his delightful humor. Humboldt, too, came occasionally, and told them
much of the mournful condition of the King. The former was once
conversing on serious scientific subjects, and with the entire
concurrence of the monarch, but when Potsdam was spoken of, although he
was staying there at that time, the unhappy sovereign could not remember
where the place was. At this time, (1852), Lepsius presented his Book of
Kings, which was then completed, to the Prince of Prussia, (our
Emperor.) The latter showed himself full of interest in it, and after
this audience the author said he had been especially struck by the
quiet, simple, benevolent nature of the Prince, in contrast to the
intellectually active, restless character of the King.
Mommsen had been summoned to Berlin in 1857, and enjoyed meeting the
family of Lepsius, but with regard to scientific, and especially
chronological, questions, there was many a dispute between these two
great scholars.
Lepsius worked much in the garden for the sake of his health, and
whatever this plot of ground yielded, in the way of vegetables, fruit,
eggs and milk, (they kept chickens and a cow of their own), was named
Hathor-cabbage, Hathor-apples, etc. Hermann Grimm had given this name to
the special products of his friend’s place, and thus recalled the great
goddess who at Dendera was styled the “dispenser of all the goods of
life,” and to whom, as the feminine principle in nature, pertained all
the gifts which furnish sustenance and pleasure to man.
In 1858 the brothers Schlagintweit also returned from their successful
journey through Asia. They came to Berlin, and wished to sell their
collections there, but many things were unfavorable to this project,
and, altogether, they met with no good fortune in the Prussian capital.
Frau Lepsius relates that they had succeeded in bringing a white ass
from the Himalayas to Berlin, in good health and lively. When he arrived
his transport had already cost two thousand thalers. It was necessary to
take him from the railway station to the zoological garden; but in going
through Potsdam Street he became refractory, and would not follow his
leader any farther. They put a rope around his neck, to pull him
forwards by force, and the consequence was that the white ass from the
Himalayas choked, and met with an unforeseen death at Berlin in Potsdam
Street.
During the latter part of the summer of 1858 the family again stayed at
Ilsenburg in the Hartz, and in December of the same year Frau Elizabeth
presented her husband with the fourth and last boy. He received the name
of Richard Ernest John, and amongst the godfathers was the faithful
college comrade of the head of the family, A. Kreiss,[99] at that time a
minister at Strasburg, as well as E. Curtius, “our splendid, ideal
friend.” After the christening Frau Elizabeth wrote: “May his name John
ever remind me that it is my great and sacred task to rear him to be a
true John; one who loves his Lord and follows in his footsteps.” This
John has now became a divine, after having produced several promising
first works as a philosopher and student of æsthetics.
In April, 1859, Lepsius traveled to Munich, for the centennial
anniversary of the Academy, and there made the acquaintance of the
excellent Thiersch, J. v. Liebig, Riehl, E. Geibel and other scholars
and artists. He spent much time with his old friend, the celebrated
architect, v. Klenze, and he also visited Kaulbach in his studio. In the
summer of 1859 Lepsius refreshed himself by an excursion to Rügen with
his friend Wiese, and late in the autumn he took a trip with his wife
and the oldest little girl to Saxon Switzerland and Dresden, where they
also made the acquaintance of Schnorr von Karolsfeld. “I looked up,”
wrote Frau Elizabeth, “with a sort of devotion, to the old and thin but
fine and intellectually vivid face of this man, whose compositions
express such deep and fervent Christian feeling.” We also learn here
that the famous little castle of Souchay at Loschwitz on the Elbe is an
enlarged copy of the Lepsius house, which had especially pleased the
owner of the castle and his architect Arnold, in Berlin, whither they
had gone to investigate the different styles of house-building.
Lepsius and his wife were deeply distressed by the death of Alexander v.
Humboldt, on May sixth, 1859, but in the following months they
encountered other losses by death which were still harder to bear. Soon
after their return home Jonas, the faithful, large-hearted pastor of the
household, died, and his departure filled the family with grief. Among
those who knew him, and his truly admirable, profound and infinitely
lovable character, his memory must long be cherished for the candor and
courage with which, by words and actions, he defended the freedom of
religious conviction during the darkest days of church life in Prussia.
But yet another and more painful loss was ordained for the family, for
on the twenty-eighth of November, 1860, died Bunsen, the man to whom
Lepsius was most deeply indebted, and to whom he had clung with the love
of a son. Also on the third of January, 1861, Frederick William IV.
died, and the reverential words respecting him with which the wife
filled many pages of her diary, are to be considered as an echo of the
feelings with which the husband regarded this king, whose weaknesses he
could not overlook but whose great qualities he was glad to exalt in
order to give them grateful praise.
Among the old friends of the family were the Pinders and Partheys,
Erbkam, the Grimms, Trendelenburgs, Brandis, Olshausens, v. Sybel,
Beselers, Geffken, Duncker, v. Tiele, who was afterwards Assistant
Secretary of State, George v. Bunsen, the Wilmowskis, Count Usedom, and
the witty Strauss, who had traveled through Palestine, Wichern, Meyer
von Rinteln, the amiable Mrs. Curtis, with whom we ourselves were well
acquainted, the publisher Hertz, Count Schlieffen, Weidenbach, the
Homeyers, the Balans and Salpius, the Wieses, the two married couples of
Peters and Drakes, the traveler Robinson, Weiss, and so on. To these was
added Droysen, who had received an appointment at Berlin in 1859. But
the highest place among them all was held by “Uncle Abeken.” There is
some ludicrous association with this able man, on account of the
passages regarding him which appear in Busch’s interesting book on
“Count Bismarck and His People.” But Frau Elizabeth’s diary shows us
that he had a deep and faithful nature, that his quick intelligence
apprehended and appreciated the poetical aspect of every incident in
life, that he was a good adviser and ready in that capacity to render
every service, and also an indefatigable worker. Where duty demanded it
he knew how to keep silence as few men do, though he was of a
communicative disposition, and had made himself so at home in every
department of science that Lepsius counted him one of the most learned
men of his time. If he was questioned about political affairs, such as
the restoration of the constitution of 1831 in Hesse, the preparation of
which had devolved upon him, his only answer was: “I have not read the
papers to-day.” He had been no less faithful to the Bunsens than to the
Lepsiuses, and his little failings will be willingly overlooked by any
one who knows with what steadfast courage he stayed by the ambassador’s
wife at Rome during the worst cholera season, and what sacrifices he was
ready to make for his friends in case of need. One whom Prince Bismarck
so trusted could be no insignificant man. That in him which provoked a
smile was chiefly his low stature, his manner, which was sometimes
immoderately vivacious, and that sentimentality which even to Frau
Bunsen was not always agreeable. Nevertheless this distinguished lady
esteemed him very highly, though she occasionally begged him to write
her less about his feelings and more about facts. But at least this
sentimentality had nothing artificial about it. It sprang from an ardent
spirit, which was perhaps only too tender and impressible.--As long as
he taught at Göttingen, the favorite guest of the Lepsiuses was E.
Curtius, and his recall to Berlin afforded the greatest happiness to
that household. Max Müller too, when he came from Oxford, was received
with open arms, and the attachment which Lepsius felt to him, may be
discerned from the journal of his wife, as well as from his letters to
Bunsen. Amongst their younger friends George v. Bunsen had best known
how to win the hearts of the family.
Frau Elizabeth superintended the details of the children’s education
with the greatest care and affection, and in so doing often fatigued
herself to the point of exhaustion. The father directed the plan
according to which he desired the training of the boys to be conducted,
but it was only in questions of moment that he interposed and gave his
decision. Two ladies who were sisters of Hofmeyer the family physician,
and who had at one time conducted the principal school for young ladies
in Berlin, told Frau Lepsius at Easter, 1862, of a twelve year old
orphan, of English descent and good family, who was alone in the world
and entirely unprovided for. Frau Lepsius immediately declared her
willingness to adopt her, and receive her as a seventh child among her
own six. Her husband quickly consented, and they never regretted this
kind act, for, to their delight, Ellen grew up to be a lovely young
girl. She was always treated in every respect like one of the daughters
of the house, and, like them, she long since married.
After the accession of King William, Lepsius continued to observe the
course of politics attentively, and never neglected any of the duties of
a citizen. In 1862 he was chosen as an elector of the first electoral
class for his district, and by the conservatives, although he in no wise
approved of their efforts. His views coincided with those of the party
which at that time was called “Old Liberal.” His friend, Meyer von
Rinteln, stood well at court, and was full of court anecdotes. He once
told how the Elector of Hesse had got in a passion, and hurt himself so
seriously by giving his valet a thrashing, that he had been obliged to
keep his bed. Thereupon Herman Grimm improvised the following riddle.
“Had my whole been truly my second, he certainly would not have been
Obliged to seek my first in bed, as we have recently seen.”[100]
Queen Augusta, Meyer reported, had correctly guessed “Kurfürst.”
Meyer was also a very talented poet, and he once read his tragedy of
“German Youth” at Lepsius’ home, in the presence of General v. Willisen,
who had had to oversee the Prussian execution at Hesse. The tendency of
the play was to show that only under the Prussian imperial rule could
Germany obtain tranquility, peace and new power. Frau Lepsius had long
before confided the same thought to her diary, and Willisen agreed with
it warmly.
The wife was as fond of traveling as the husband, but during the first
half of the summer he was kept at home by his duties as professor, and
she by her interest in their own beautiful garden, and in the education
of the children. By midsummer Berlin became unendurable to them both,
and they were accustomed to leave home usually in July with the
children, who then had their holidays. In the autumn of 1863 they took a
longer journey, to Cologne and the Swiss Rhine, with their elder
daughter Anna and Uncle Abeken. Shortly before the master of the house
commenced his lectures they returned to Berlin, where their delightful
social life began anew. Frau Elizabeth suffered from many physical
ailments, especially “_tic douloureux_,” and had also assumed an almost
oppressive number of domestic, pedagogic, social and benevolent duties.
When she felt greatly in need of refreshment she retreated for a few
days to Sacrow, a pretty and charmingly situated little village on the
Havel near Potsdam, and on returning home she would resume with renewed
strength the labors which awaited her.
After the death of Jonas, the family pastor was first Snethlage, who was
then growing old, and afterwards the vigorous and manly Court Chaplain
Kögel. In spite of his tendency to greater strictness, this latter
entirely filled the place to Frau Lepsius of the deceased friend whom
she so deeply lamented. After one of his sermons (1865) she wrote in the
diary: “To be able to preach like Kögel! I should think that the highest
earthly happiness. What a blessing for us!”
On the twenty-eighth of February, 1866, Lepsius started on his second
journey to Egypt, the details of which are given on page 201. He was
alone except for the faithful draughtsman Weidenbach. While he was on
the way, Uncle Abeken became engaged to, and subsequently married,
Fraulein Helene von Olfers, a daughter of the Director of the museum.
The fear lest the old friend of the house should change proved
unfounded, for as a married man he still preserved his old friendship
for the Lepsiuses.
The master of the house returned home sooner than he had been expected.
He had given up the journey to upper Egypt for several reasons, chief
among which was the great inundation of the Nile. He was met at Berlin
by the clang of arms. A civil war appeared inevitable, and Bismarck was
as little of a favorite in Bendler street as in other constitutional
circles of the country, though the sagacity of Lepsius and the
information derived from Abeken, who always regarded his chief with
fervent admiration, had caused the Lepsiuses to repose great confidence
in him. At court, too, he had many more bitter opponents and enemies
than friends, and when, shortly before the war, Bismarck injured his
foot, a gentleman who held a situation near the Queen uttered the
pointed _bon-mots_, “His foot hurts him because he has gone too far,”
and “The cloven hoof is showing.”
But never did the feeling of a nation towards a great man undergo such a
sudden, universal and complete revolution as that towards Bismarck
during the short months of the war of 1866. At that time Frau Lepsius,
with the ardent enthusiasm peculiar to herself and with the assistance
of her daughters, made herself most useful in the Hospital Association
and still more in the Elizabeth Hospital. The diary records the
preliminaries of peace with anxious interest, and contains the
following anecdote, perhaps from the mouth of Abeken: “At the
negotiations for peace Benedetti began to speak cautiously of slight
enlargements of the French boundaries, as Prussia was now so well
rounded out. Then Bismarck cried: ‘Give me that in writing! To-morrow I
must present a demand for a credit of sixty millions for war expenses to
the Chamber; with this paper in my hand I can ask for double the sum.’”
Before the war many an angry word had been uttered against Bismarck in
Bendler Street, but when a party of literati had assembled there on the
twenty-second of July, 1866, they soon began to talk of politics, and
each one gave expression to the admiration with which Bismarck’s
greatness inspired him. Even Frau Lepsius praised the man whom she had
previously judged none too mildly. (See page 245.) They all agreed that
it was now possible for the first time to understand this great
statesman’s aims and mode of action, and that as an envoy to the Diet he
must undoubtedly have already grasped the idea which had now been
carried into execution in such a wonderful manner. But Wichern thought
he should have allowed his great intentions to be perceived a little
more plainly, so that he might have been better understood and not so
much hated. Lepsius then rose, and responded to this opinion of the
clever master of the “reformatory,” that it was the great characteristic
of Bismarck as a statesman that he knew how to keep silence for years,
and to pursue his aims quietly. A few days before this the great
Chancelor, on the occasion of the celebration of victory at Kroll, had
proposed his beautiful toast to “The Children of Berlin,” who were a
little rash in word, but had head and heart in the right place.
The wave of enthusiasm rolled high at that time. Every Prussian heart
beat full and quick for its King. Lepsius had always greatly extolled
his direct and honest nature, and his clear intelligence, which could
never be confused. He was delighted therefore at the Monarch’s saying to
him, “I myself proposed you,” when he received the red order of the
eagle of the second class in 1867, on the annual celebration of the
founding of that order.
The Court Chaplain Snethlage, who had been a faithful friend of the
family, resigned his office in July, 1867, and the diary contains the
following touching anecdote: “On a certain day one of the men of his
parish comes to Snethlage, assures him of his fidelity and reverence,
and then says to him, ‘But now I have a request to make of you: Preach
no more; it will not do any longer!’ Thereupon the Court Chaplain held
his peace for a short time, and then said, ‘You are right, it will no
longer do, and I will give up preaching.’”
In September of the same year Lepsius went to Paris and London with his
daughters, and in the autumn of 1869 he went to Egypt for the last time,
and chiefly on account of the celebration of the opening of the Suez
Canal.
When the war between Germany and France broke out, in 1870, the oldest
son, Richard, who was just approaching his examination previous to
matriculation, begged his parents to be allowed to take the field, and
both, with ardent patriotism, accorded him permission. But he was
rejected, as not yet sufficiently strong, and therefore, after passing
the examination, he visited the arena of war but once, under the command
of the army chaplain at whose disposal he had placed himself. His mother
meanwhile with restless zeal and the practical ability characteristic of
her, was working for the wounded. To put herself in a prominent position
was repugnant to her, her only object was to be of real service to the
hospital, and this she accomplished with the aid of her daughters and
others upon whom she was able to call. Many people brought their
donations to her and a large part of the linen and clothing for the
Berlin hospital, especially that for the chief depot, was got together
by her, and sewed and made ready under her supervision. In doing this
she was able to furnish remunerative work for so many poor women that
she wrote in the diary: “That is the only good thing about a war, that
one can employ so many needy women.” She forgot that it is war which
plunges so many women into poverty.
Lepsius was always ready to give and to advise, and delighted in all
that his wife and daughters accomplished. The news from the seat of war
was awaited with feverish excitement, and the successes of the
victorious troops were celebrated with enthusiasm. The inmates of the
Lepsius house received news at first hand from their many friends in
high places. Amongst these was now Dr. Stephan, the head of the
post-office department. The husband and wife also had a great liking for
the minister Frommel; a divine whose sermons Lepsius, who was no regular
churchgoer, liked because he “did not preach dogmatically but from and
of real life.” These are Lepsius’ own words, and he esteemed Frommel not
only as a divine, but as a clever, well-informed and agreeable
companion.
During the following years life flowed on more quietly. One after the
other the boys left school, and made substantial progress in their
professions. The girls became mistresses of families and mothers, the
garden ceased to be the scene of the merry games of childhood, the big
house, deserted by many of its younger inhabitants, became too large for
those who remained; but the old social life did not languish, and the
father, with undiminished energy, was still busied in his work rooms. If
a large number of friends was assembled in the Lepsius salons among them
was usually the Minister of the American Republic. This was at first the
grey haired historian Bancroft, afterwards the noble and accomplished
poet, Bayard Taylor, who successfully translated Faust into English, and
lastly Andrew White, the erudite and liberal-minded promoter of science
in the new world.
When Lepsius did not prefer to play chess,--often four-handed chess, or,
still better, with three players and a dummy,--he devoted many evenings,
as of old, to the “Herrenkränzchen,” or social club of learned friends,
in which he bore his part with pleasure, both giving and receiving.
Lepsius belonged to the old or little “Griechheit” during the first
years of his marriage and before he built his own house. Its members
were: Lepsius, E. Curtius, Gerhard, Abeken, Brandis, Wiese, and other
intimate friends. They read Greek classics, and so kept up their
familiarity with them and with the world of ancient Hellas, but this was
not the sole object of the “Griechheit,” which was rather intended to
enable friends of similar tastes and education to pass pleasant and
inspiring evenings together, where they might be happy, unconstrained,
and free from every sort of pedantry. After the reading and the
discussion which followed it, two chosen friends, the diplomat v.
Schlözer and the zoologist Peters, were admitted as so-called
“commensals,” and they all went to supper. The wife of the member at
whose house the society met presided at table, and often the friends
remained till a late hour over the merry meal, amidst the clinking of
glasses, and pleasant conversation.
With Abeken’s late marriage in 1866, the little “Griechheit,” so dear to
all its members, came to an end, though its resurrection was celebrated
some years afterwards. But in its new form the more critical and sharper
spirit of the present learned society of Berlin prevailed, instead of
the inoffensive cheerful tone, and the ideal humanistic thought of its
predecessor. Members of the various Faculties, Mommsen, the philosopher
Zeller, the mathematician Kronecker, H. Grimm, Wattenbach, the lawyer
Bruns, the archæologist Schöne, v. Sybel, and Waitz took part in it, and
among them, as representatives of the older “Griechheit” were E. Curtius
and Lepsius. The English ambassador, Lord Russel, the Greek ambassador,
Rangabé, and George v. Bunsen were also members.
The Wednesday or Literary Club had been founded by Bethmann-Hollweg and
Dorner, who was also a friend of the Lepsiuses. The Berlin literati
lived at wide distances apart, and this club was begun with the
intention of enabling them to meet, and thus giving an opportunity to
those who were conducting researches in the various domains of science
to enrich each other intellectually, through conversation, and mutual
communication of knowledge.
Each member was bound in turn to deliver a discourse upon some subject
within his special department of science. Another member had to provide
the entertainment, and thus the society met first at one house and then
at another. Of the old members many are now dead; those who survive will
recollect with satisfaction the delightful evenings in which Lepsius
participated with such pleasure.
To this society belonged Bethmann-Hollweg (the president), Dorner, Braun
the botanist, E. Curtius, Duncker the historian, Beseler and Bruns the
lawyers, Müllenhof the student of German law, language and history,
Twesten the grey-haired and vigorous theologian, Friedrichs the
archæologist, and also, for several years, Wichern, and Bancroft the
historian and American ambassador. Of the younger members we may name
the astronomer Förster and the geologist and geographer v. Richthofen,
who had returned from China, bringing with him important scientific
results. After Hermann had made himself at home as president of the
Supreme Church Council in Berlin, Dorner immediately inducted him into
the “Wednesday Club.” The architect Adler also found admittance to this
select circle, which was no less attractive to Lepsius than the
“Griechheit,” which met on Friday.