THE GREAT TRIUMPH AND THE SHADOW
FOR years Germany had gossiped over the so-called 'Persian Court' of
Leopold Eberhard of Wirtemberg, Duke of Mömpelgard. This prince had been
so pampered by his mother, Anne de Coligny, that he reached the age of
twelve years without having learned to read or write. When the
over-tender mother died, the boy's father, Duke George, took his
dunce-son's education in hand; but this gentleman was peculiar in his
notions of the training of young minds. French and German he deemed
unnecessary trivialities, and the Christian religion a banality. Instead
of these prosaic lessons the boy was instructed in the Arabic, Hebrew,
and Persian tongues, and, in lieu of the Bible, the Koran was placed in
his hands.
A handsome, reckless, passionate youth, imbued with the comfortable
theories of polygamy, Leopold Eberhard was destined to succeed his father
in the family honours, and achieve a course of Persian living which,
while practised frequently under other names at many courts, astounded
Germany by this legalised manner of illegality.
One lady was already the wife of Leopold Eberhard. She was the daughter
of a baker, and had held the post of housemaid at the small court of Oels
in Silesia. Having succeeded in espousing a gentleman of the name of
Zedlitz, she turned her attention to the eighteen-year-old Erbprinz of
Mömpelgard; and her husband, Herr von Zedlitz, not approving of this new
relationship, she divorced him and married Leopold. At first this
undistinguished alliance displeased the old Duke of Mömpelgard, and he
endeavoured to disinherit Leopold Eberhard; but when the ex-housemaid
bore a fine son, the grandfather relented, and the couple took residence
at Mömpelgard, the lady being created by the Emperor Countess of Sponeck.
Now, in Mömpelgard resided an aged captain of the Imperial army, one
Richard Curie, a tailor by trade, who, having enlisted in the army and
risen to the rank of captain, changed his uneuphonious name to Monsieur
l'Espérance, married a Mömpelgard butcher's daughter, and settled in her
native town. Four fine daughters were born of this marriage. Leopold
Eberhard cast his eyes upon these beautiful girls and remembered his
Mahometan principles. At this juncture, Duke George conveniently died,
and Leopold Eberhard became Duke. Immediately all four damsels
l'Espérance were appointed ladies' companions to the Countess of Sponeck.
The eldest, Sébastiane, was the first object of Leopold's affection, but
the Countess Sponeck suspected the intrigue and remonstrated with her
spouse. To divert her jealousy from Sébastiane the Duke paid sham court
to the youngest sister, Polyrène, but the playacting turned reality, and
ended in serious passion. However, this episode with the second of the
l'Espérances soon came to an end, for Polyrène fell dead during a gavotte
at court. Great mourning, and Leopold sought consolation with another
sister l'Espérance, Henriette Hedwig, wife of a lieutenant in the
Mömpelgard guards, Herr von Sandersleben. This gentleman objected,
divorced Henriette Hedwig, and left the Duke's service.
The Countess of Sponeck and the two sisters Espérance resided under one
roof. We are told that it was hell on earth: they fought, they scratched,
they yelled, they bit, till the Duke arrived on the scene, parted the
combatants, and usually thrashed--the Countess of Sponeck! All Germany
knew, watched, and laughed.
At length it could be borne no longer, and the Countess of Sponeck, with
her children, retired to a distant castle. Then Henriette Hedwig died,
and the Mömpelgard court seemed tidied up a little, although Henriette
left five children in the castle, two of whom called Leopold father.
But there still remained a fourth sister Espérance, Elizabeth Charlotte.
This lady's ambition soared higher than that of the other three sisters.
She made Leopold divorce the Countess of Sponeck. The other sisters had
been called the legal wives of the Duke, according to his Mahometan
principles, but Elizabeth Charlotte insisted upon a greater surety, and
Leopold acquiesced, as usual, when his affections were engaged. The
Countess of Sponeck being divorced, he married the fourth and last sister
Espérance. He spoke of poor Sponeck as 'The Widowed Lady,' and Elizabeth
Charlotte as 'The Reigning Lady.'
Now came the complications concerning the offspring of the Duke's various
wives. To annoy poor Sponeck, Leopold in 1715 had entered into a contract
with Wirtemberg, whereby he declared his distant cousin, Eberhard Ludwig,
heir to Mömpelgard; but he soon repented of this admission, and besought
the Emperor to legitimatise his children: those morganatically born by
the Countess of Sponeck, and the rest of the brood from the Espérance
sisters. The Emperor refused.
Then Leopold appealed to Louis XIV., who also proved obdurate. Finally
during the Regency, Leopold repaired to Paris in person and prayed the
Regent, Duc d'Orléans, to legitimatise his progeny. 'A Lutheran prince
was legally permitted to marry whom, when, and as often as he wished,' he
averred. This precept being received with mockery, he expatiated on
Persian customs, and declared himself a believer in the Koran alone. But
Paris laughed at him, and after making himself ridiculous at the court of
France during eight months, Leopold returned to Mömpelgard. Then he
married his son, George Leopold, Count of Sponeck, to his daughter
Eleonore Charlotte of Sandersleben; and his son, Karl Leopold of
Sandersleben, to his daughter Leopoldine Eberhardine of Sponeck. This
double marriage was a magnificent ceremony at Mömpelgard, and Duke
Leopold was wild with delight at the revival of 'the beautiful old
Persian custom.' But Germany, and even France, stood aghast at the
horrible affair. To celebrate his four children's nuptials, Leopold gave
a grand ball. In the midst of this festivity he was struck down with
apoplexy. The sisters Espérance, Sébastiane and Elizabeth Charlotte, fled
before the approach of death, but honest Sponeck hastened back from her
distant castle, and Leopold died in her arms.
Eberhard Ludwig of Wirtemberg laid claim to Mömpelgard, but he was
obliged to send troops to seize his inheritance. Then the bastards in a
body commenced legal proceedings against the rightful heir, and against
each other. Europe looked on, scandalised and amused.
The eldest Sponeck and his sister-bride hurried to Paris--'Prince et
Princesse de Montbéliard,' they styled themselves--and as they were
young, handsome, and seemingly wealthy, many persons of note espoused
their sorry cause.
Eberhard Ludwig, who now added to his titles that of Duke of Mömpelgard,
waited patiently for some time ere he took possession in person of his
new domain. His troops were there, and Friedrich Grävenitz had been
despatched to take direction of affairs.
Meanwhile, some of the bastards were raising doleful cries in Vienna and
in Paris, but a few remained obstinately at Mömpelgard, and to Friedrich
Grävenitz was assigned the task of removing them before Serenissimus made
his state entry.
The Landhofmeisterin had intimated her intention of accompanying his
Highness on this official journey, and there had ensued a sharp quarrel,
by letter, between the lady and her brother in Mömpelgard. She won the
day, of course, as usual, yet her heart was heavy in this hour of her
greatest triumph, for the Duke grew colder to her each day. Madame de
Ruth, her wily counsellor, had died a few months after the Duchess
Johanna Elizabetha's visit to Ludwigsburg, and the courtiers had
marvelled at the Landhofmeisterin's passionate grief. She had followed
the old courtesan's coffin to Neuhaus, and had seen her laid to rest
beside the little mound of the child's grave. And the Grävenitz had
refused to be comforted.
Zollern almost deserted Ludwigsburg after his old mistress's death. He
withdrew to his castle, and only at rare intervals could he be persuaded
to visit the Duke and the Landhofmeisterin.
Yet the Grävenitz's power was unabated; in point of fact, it seemed to
grow more absolute; but the courtiers noticed her melancholy, and while
some put it down to her grief at Madame de Ruth's death, others observed
the Duke's colder manner, and predicted the Landhofmeisterin's downfall.
It was a blow to these prophets when the news was confirmed that the
Grävenitz was to accompany Serenissimus on his state entry to Mömpelgard.
There were various intrigues to prevent her Excellency from carrying out
the project. Chief among these was a riot at Mömpelgard, which was
entirely organised and stirred up by discontented Wirtembergers. It
required little to enflame the Mömpelgarders, for they hated the very
name of Duke's mistress from past Espérance experiences, and the
Landhofmeisterin's doings in Wirtemberg were well known.
Friedrich Grävenitz wrote at great length to his sister (he always wrote
lengthily, and the most trivial letter he alluded to as 'my business,'
saying pompously, 'I have been working'). So he wrote at enormous length
to Wilhelmine, advising her to refrain from journeying to Mömpelgard, but
the Landhofmeisterin only laughed, and hurried on the preparations for
the official entry.
Shortly before this time a new body-guard had been enrolled at
Ludwigsburg. It did not oust the famous Silver Guard from favour, and the
Cadets à Cheval also retained their proud position, but the new
body-guard was a most resplendent corps, composed entirely of gentlemen
of noble birth. One of Madame de Ruth's last witticisms had been to
compare this 'Chevaliergarde' to the French and Austrian Chanoinesses.
'Really, Monseigneur,' she had told Serenissimus, 'you should make it
compulsory for the gentlemen of the Chevaliergarde to have sixty-four
quarterings and pure morals!'
Of course there was jealousy between the Silver Guard and the Chevalier
troop, and the young Cadets à Cheval looked with displeasure at the new
guard. But the Landhofmeisterin settled that as she did all things; she
decreed that when the Cadets reached the age of twenty-one years it
should be open to them to serve in the permanent Chevaliergarde, or to
apply for officers' commissions in the Silver Guard, and the latter
appointments being perforce limited in number, it soon became the
recognised thing for the Cadets who wished to remain in the military
service to enter the Chevaliergarde. The Landhofmeisterin ruled even the
army.
Her Excellency had instituted an Order. His Highness had his St. Hubertus
to give, and she desired to have an Order of her own to distribute.
Everybody laughed covertly, but the insignia of the Order of the White
Trefoil were much coveted nevertheless, and the white riband and
beautifully designed three-leaved badge of the Grävenitz's Order were
proudly worn by the highest dignitaries, and at Ludwigsburg the courtiers
who were fortunate enough to possess the decoration were careful never to
appear without it.
* * * * *
On a glowing July morning a splendid cavalcade started from Ludwigsburg:
the Silver Guard, the Cadets à Cheval, the Chevaliergarde, the
dignitaries of the Wirtemberg court, and his Highness Eberhard Ludwig
riding at the door of the golden coach, wherein throned the
Landhofmeisterin and her sour-visaged sister Sittmann.
In each town and village the procession was greeted with commanded cheers
and with triumphant arches decorated by her Excellency's instructions.
The peasants' faces were sombre while they cheered, sometimes a
suppressed snarl of hatred mingled with the acclamations. As the
travellers proceeded on their journey, however, this hostility abated,
giving place to peering curiosity, and at every halt the villagers
crowded round asking which of the ladies was the Landhofmeisterin, and
commenting on her appearance.
At Kehl on the Rhine there was an official reception by the burgomaster
and chief citizens. From Kehl to Strassburg, a distance of several miles,
peasants and townsfolk bordered the road, watching the entry of the
magnificent Duke of Wirtemberg. The town of Strassburg, in those days
only French by a recent treaty, received the German prince with
vociferous delight. The Regent d'Orléans, wishful to show courtesy to the
new Duke of Montbéliard, had commanded the garrison to render military
honours to the travelling prince, and Serenissimus was greeted in
Strassburg by some of the finest of France's troops, and by thundering
cannon salutes. Then there were white-robed maidens strewing flowers
before his horse's hoofs, and from the town-gate to the stately old
Cathedral Square the concourse of men and women was so vast as to make
the progress slow and difficult; bands played and flags flew, and the
Grävenitz was delighted. Eberhard Ludwig was feasted and honoured, and
ever beside him was the tall figure of the Landhofmeisterin. In the
evening the Duke received the chief burghers at a state banquet, and the
Grävenitz sat to his Highness's right.
In Schlettstadt and Belfort, where he entered the Mömpelgard territory,
the reception was enthusiastic; and, contrary to all expectations, the
citizens of Mömpelgard itself received their new ruler with expressions
of ecstatic loyalty, and even the Landhofmeisterin was loudly cheered.
Here again the cannon roared a welcome, children and maidens strewed
roses, choirs of youths chanted pæans of homage and rejoicing, and the
Mömpelgard regiments, which but a few months before had been employed by
the bastards to oppose the rightful heir, now greeted their Duke with
respect. Banners waved from every house, arches of fresh flowers adorned
the streets, the windows were spread with silken hangings, and the church
bells rang peal upon peal. It was a scene of rejoicing, of enthusiasm, of
pomp and magnificence, and it was the culminating point of the triumph of
Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, but her heart was heavy with foreboding.
Serenissimus also, though he played his part in the fine pageant with
seeming pleasure, was filled with profound sadness. The Erbprincessin had
been brought to bed of a daughter only since the loss of her first child.
The Erbprinz was more ailing than ever; true, he fought gallantly against
his weakness, seeking to fortify himself and please his father by outdoor
exercises; but, though he rode magnificently, with skill and intrepidity,
he had fallen fainting from his horse several times of late. The doctors
shook their heads, and the cognizance forced itself upon Eberhard Ludwig
that he himself would be the last Duke of the direct line.
After spending three weeks of feasting at Mömpelgard, his Highness set
out for Stuttgart. The Mömpelgarders bade him adieu with many expressions
of loyal devotion. They found their new Duke and his handsome, decorous
mistress, who played so finely the rôle of legal Duchess, an agreeable
change after Leopold Eberhard's 'Persian Court' and its absurdities, and
they would fain have induced Serenissimus to tarry in Mömpelgard; but the
King of Prussia had intimated his intention of visiting Ludwigsburg in
September, and Eberhard Ludwig hurried back to receive his royal guest.
But on arriving in Ludwigsburg his Highness fell ill, and Friedrich
Wilhelm's visit was postponed till the following spring.
The winter passed with little incident at Ludwigsburg. His Highness
recovered rapidly from his actual illness, yet he did not regain his
accustomed health and spirits, and thus the court festivities were both
fewer and less brilliant than heretofore. The Landhofmeisterin's
forebodings seemed to be infectious; a cloud hung over Ludwigsburg, and
the people murmured ominously: 'His Highness wearies of her, and she has
ill-wished him; he will die, and she will disappear with all the jewels
and gold.'
Doubtless, the Landhofmeisterin's actions lent colour to these wild
reports. She had studied various theories of medicine--quaint, old,
forgotten herb lore, absurd mediæval magic. At first it had diverted her,
then she grew credulous, and in the despair of knowing Eberhard Ludwig's
love to be waning and his health broken, she resorted to the pitiful
puerilities of love potions, life essences, and elixirs. Of course, for
the brewing of these concoctions she required some extraordinary
ingredients, and it was in the procuring of these that the gossip
concerning her witch practices was revived and flourished. This
prescription required the blood of a still-born male child; one old
black-letter book recommended the heart of a yellow hen; another ordered
the life-warm entrails of a black fighting-cock; a fourth prescription
commanded the admixture of hairs from a dead man's beard! These
ingredients mixed with herbs plucked in churchyards at midnight, or
spices brought directly from the East, and with seven times distilled
water, and suchlike, made a life elixir, or an infallible love potion, or
again a cure for this or that disease. Among the many absurdities of
ignorance some of the accumulated wisdom of experience may have crept
into the old recipes: a real cure for a fever, or the application of a
gold ring to an inflamed eyelid. Superstition said that the ring was the
marvel-worker; possibly it was some quality in the gold, some
even-as-yet-undiscovered power of certain metals upon the human body, and
which experience may have taught the old village woman and the wandering
quack. But for the most part the Grävenitz's potions were harmless
absurdities, yet she believed, and so did others, in their efficacy.
During the winter the Erbprinz's fainting fits were more frequent than
ever, and the Erbprincessin sank into a deep and brooding melancholy,
which was varied by attacks of painful excitement and sudden bursts of
causeless anger. It was whispered at Ludwigsburg that she was surely
going mad.
It was as though some fearful blight had fallen upon Eberhard Ludwig and
his family, and the Pietists preached that the avenging hand of God was
hovering over the sinner's court. The Secret Service reported these
sermons to the Landhofmeisterin, and the preachers were fined or
imprisoned, but the stream of denunciation continued nevertheless.
The Grävenitz was very lonely now. His Highness had changed to her, she
could no longer blind herself to the fact. Madame de Ruth was dead;
Zollern, old and sad, was rarely at Ludwigsburg. Friedrich Grävenitz was
covertly hostile to her. In the autumn a serious quarrel had taken place;
the brother demanding as free gift the property of Welzheim, which the
Landhofmeisterin had lent him. This Wilhelmine refused; she did not
relish her brother's way of asking, and she bitterly resented the
pompous, self-righteous, disapproving manner which he had adopted towards
her of late. After all, he owed her everything, she told herself. Her
sister, Sittmann, was a useless parasite. The Landhofmeisterin accounted
her as one who would desert her immediately did misfortune come. The
Sittmann sons, young men who owed their high position entirely to their
aunt's power, not to their own merit or capability, were colourless,
insipid youths. Sittmann himself, Schütz and the rest, she knew to be
fair-weather friends; evidently they descried the clouds gathering over
their patroness's head, and they were quietly drawing back from her. Only
Maria, the maid, remained faithful and admiring, and tended her adored
mistress with unfailing patience and devotion. In the early spring the
preparations began for the King of Prussia's visit, but Serenissimus
himself took the lead in settling the arrangements, and the
Landhofmeisterin was constantly met with the answer: 'His Highness has
ordered that otherwise, your Excellency,' or, 'that point has been
settled by the Duke.' For twenty years she had directed and ruled, and
now all things seemed to crumble at her touch.
King Friedrich Wilhelm I. arrived in Wirtemberg towards the middle of
April. He was met at the frontier by Eberhard Ludwig and the whole Silver
Guard. The cavalcade was very brilliant, the horses magnificent, and the
bluff Prussian King greeted the Duke with rough cordiality. They had been
companions-in-arms during the Spanish Succession campaigns, and as they
rode together through the beautiful spring land of Wirtemberg they
recalled old memories, fighting over again the battles of Blenheim, or of
Malplaquet, and talking of military matters. It was like a breath of the
camp life of long ago, of those young, gay, adventurous days when the
Future promised so much!
An official reception had been prepared for Friedrich Wilhelm at
Ludwigsburg, and leaving the King at Heilbronn, Eberhard Ludwig hastened
home. On the morrow, at the head of his troops, he would receive
Prussia's martial ruler at a grand parade, after which the Corporal King
was to be feasted at the palace.
Eberhard Ludwig reached Ludwigsburg late in the evening, and retired
immediately, commanding a light supper to be served in his apartments. He
was told that the Landhofmeisterin and the court awaited him, and that
supper was already served, as usual, in her Excellency's dining-room. But
Serenissimus sent word that he desired to be undisturbed, and prayed her
Excellency to excuse him.
The supper at the Landhofmeisterin's table was partaken of in a
constrained atmosphere. Her Excellency spoke with Baron Schütz of
political affairs, but though her lips smiled, there was that in her eyes
which banished easy talk in her presence. The Erbprinz was pale and
silent; he had ridden much during the afternoon, and had swooned away in
the palace courtyard when he dismounted. The Erbprincessin sat crumbling
her bread with her long, delicate fingers, a heavy cloud of aimless
melancholy on her face. She had been feverishly excited during the day at
the prospect of meeting her cousin King Friedrich Wilhelm, but, as usual,
her passing brighter mood left her the more depressed. At the repast's
conclusion the Landhofmeisterin rose and repaired, according to her
custom, to the card-room. She played her hand at l'hombre, winning each
game.
'Those who are fortunate at cards are unfortunate in all else, they say,'
she remarked, as she noted her winnings in her neat scholarly
handwriting. The courtiers murmured some banal phrases, and Schütz
watched the Landhofmeisterin narrowly. Was it time for this Master-Rat to
conduct his brood away from the threatened vessel? he wondered.
Earlier than usual her Excellency gave the signal to retire. 'We start
to-morrow at nine of the clock for his Majesty's reception. Your Highness
will occupy my coach. I trust it will not rain,' she said indifferently
as she bade the Erbprincessin good-night. Now, it had been clearly
understood that no ladies were to attend the reception. In fact, the
Erbprincessin had consented to greet her cousin in private, only in order
to prevent the Landhofmeisterin from meeting the mistress-hating monarch.
There ensued an awkward pause after her Excellency's speech.
'I do not purpose to be present at the official reception, Madame,' said
the Erbprincessin, 'and I had understood that your Excellency also would
remain away.'
'Your Highness has been misinformed,' returned the Landhofmeisterin
icily. 'We start, as I have had the honour to tell you, at nine of the
clock to-morrow morning. I wish you would accompany me in my coach,
Prince Friedrich, it would be a happiness to me to have your protection.
May I count on you?' She turned to him with her wonderful smile.
Friedrich Ludwig had a place in her affection, and though he never
visited her at Favorite or Freudenthal, which wounded her deeply, she
bore him no malice.
'In truth, Madame, I shall be proud to escort you in your coach
to-morrow. At nine of the clock?' And he bade her good rest. He was
grateful to her for thus making it seem a courtesy to her that he should
consent to drive instead of riding to the review, for the doctor had told
him that evening that he could not ride, and he felt so weak and giddy
after his swoon that he knew he dared not mount a horse. The
Erbprincessin shot a veiled look of hatred at the Landhofmeisterin. How
well the evil woman knew how to cajole men to her will!
The Landhofmeisterin repaired to her pavilion, and Maria assisted her to
bed. Such a ceremony it was, this retiring to rest of the
Landhofmeisterin! Such a profusion of delicious essences; all the
perfumes of Araby were used, and she donned the fairest raiment of fine
linen. According to custom, Maria left her fastidious mistress ready for
sleep and reading a heavy tome of old-world magic by the light of two
tall waxen tapers.
Hardly had the maid's footsteps ceased to echo on the stone steps of the
pavilion, when the Grävenitz flung aside the book and, rising from her
chair, listened attentively. Only the monotonous tramp of the sentries in
the courtyard, and, more faintly, the same sound from the guards on the
north terrace. Still her Excellency listened. Alas! for how many nights
of late had she hearkened in vain for the click of the little key in the
door from the statue gallery? Eberhard Ludwig never came to her, and as
she stood listening her heart bled in anguish for the love that was no
more. Could such love really die? she asked herself. If it could, then
the vows Eberhard Ludwig had spoken were mockery. Had she built her life
on so insecure a foundation? The whole fabric of her being was shattered.
Her anguish was almost physical pain, and she knew why people said 'my
heart bleeds,' for, of a truth, it seemed to her as though the strength
ebbed away from her heart, leaving an aching, yearning void. Courage! she
would try again. She lifted the waxen taper and held it between her face
and the mirror. Yes, there were lines beneath the eyes; her cheeks were
less full and her chin heavier than of yore, but her lips were soft and
red, her eyes as blue, as vivid as they had ever been. She knew her hair
was streaked with white beneath the powder, but it was still luxuriant.
She was beautiful, desirable--but would he desire her? She replaced the
taper, glided into the statue gallery, and opened the door leading to
his Highness's room. She listened; Eberhard Ludwig was asleep; she could
hear the long, even breaths. Noiselessly she pushed aside the arras and
entered. The moon shone into the room, and again she could have vowed
that a white-shrouded woman's figure stood in the wan light, but, as
before, the faint vision vanished when she looked more searchingly.
'Eberhard, beloved,' she called gently, 'are you ill?' The old witchery
was in her voice, and the sleeping man answered to it.
'I come, sweet love; I come, Philomèle!' Serenissimus appeared on the
threshold of the writing-room. He had flung himself down to sleep without
undressing, and was still in his riding-clothes. He looked ghastly in the
pale moonlight, and she hurried to him with outstretched arms.
'You are ill and you do not come to me? Beloved, have I not tended you
that you should thus flaunt me?' She drew him to her. 'What have I done,
my heart, how have I sinned, that you have taken your love from me? See,
I come to you to pray you to forgive me!' The old trick of speech, her
catchword, 'See,' the low voice--the soft, strong arms.
He had doubted her, and why? She had given him all; it was not her fault
if he wearied of her tyranny. No; he alone was to blame, his inconstancy,
his weakness. He poured forth a torrent of self-reproach, and words of
love, and she responded passionately. Once more they were lovers,
thrilling to each other's touch. And the wan moon looked on at their
transports, and perchance the pale wraith of the Countess of Orlamünde,
the White Lady, watched the lovers and smiled, knowing that love's death,
satiety, had them in his chill grip for all their passionate vows.
'I start at nine to-morrow morning for the reception, beloved. The
Erbprincessin and Friedrich accompany me in my coach,' the
Landhofmeisterin said as she prepared to return to her apartments. His
Highness started.
'I pray you, do not go, Wilhelmine. The King is a bear, and if you meet
him he will fail in courtesy to you,' he said.
'It is my right to go, and I start at nine,' she repeated.
'You shall not go; it is my right to forbid you,--you shall not go!' he
cried. Then ensued a quarrel, bitter, terrible, between two beings who so
short a while before had loved so madly. The quarrel ended by the man
giving in, as usual, but the wrangle pierced one more nail in his love's
coffin for all that.
* * * * *
True to her word, the next morning at nine of the clock the
Landhofmeisterin entered her coach accompanied by a very angry-faced
Erbprincessin, and the Erbprinz. They drove past Hohenasperg to the plain
where the review was to be held, and the Landhofmeisterin's coach took up
a commanding position near to Eberhard Ludwig and the officers of his
staff. The Prussian King appeared riding with a numerous retinue.
The field artillery spluttered volleys, and the cannon of Hohenasperg
thundered a royal salute; the Silver Guard and the Chevaliergarde
deployed and went through the series of antics customary at that period
of military history. It was a small quantity of men with which to aspire
to give a military display to the Soldier King, but under Eberhard
Ludwig's zealous care the men were perfectly drilled, wonderfully
accoutred, and the cavalry horses were unequalled in Germany. The light
field-guns were of the latest invention, the artillery and fort gunnery
were carefully distinguished according to the new military rule: in fact,
it was all rigidly correct and perfect to the most approved and newest
methods of that date; and Friedrich Wilhelm who, if he knew little else,
was a past master of the martial art, was delighted at the display. But
his face changed when he rode up to the coach to greet his cousin, and
became aware of the Landhofmeisterin's presence.
'Why are you here?' he grumbled to the Erbprincessin. 'Women are best at
home, looking after the children or cooking the dinner.'
'May I present her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin to your Majesty?' said
Eberhard Ludwig; but the King turned a deaf ear.
'Go home, cousin, go home!' he bawled at the Erbprincessin; and putting
spurs to his horse galloped away to inspect some new pattern of field-gun
which his sharp eyes had espied with the artillery.
Eberhard Ludwig looked at the Landhofmeisterin in genuine distress. He
had warned her of the Prussian King's rough manners, but this was more
than he had expected. Her Excellency's face was inscrutable.
'I should advise your Highness to follow that most kingly personage. Keep
him in view, Serenissimus, or he may steal a tall man or so for his
grenadiers from among your favourite guards. It is one of his graceful
habits, I am told,' she said coldly.
The Erbprinz had flushed deeply when the martial king ignored the
Landhofmeisterin. The Erbprincessin's face, on the contrary, had
lightened considerably. It was delightful to see the Grävenitz put down
for once! They drove home through the meadows, past the blossoming
orchards, and never had the Landhofmeisterin been more charming; even the
Erbprincessin could not forbear a smile at her witty sayings, and the
Erbprinz laughed gaily. The Prussian King rode past the coach, glaring at
its occupants with his protuberant eyes, and the Landhofmeisterin
adroitly launched a witticism just as his Majesty was passing, in order
that he should suffer the mortification of hearing and seeing their
merriment half an hour after his unmannerly slight. Her ruse succeeded
admirably, and she had the pleasure of observing the King's
brick-coloured face flush to purple with anger.
The Duke and his guest remained together all the morning, His Highness
showing the King each detail of the palace. In the orangery they came
across two remarkably tall garden boys, and Friedrich Wilhelm immediately
offered Eberhard Ludwig three hundred thalers apiece for them. Now, they
happened to be her Excellency's own gardeners, and to be proficient in
the art of cultivating roses, so Serenissimus prayed the King to let him
find other giants for him; these, he said, were not his to offer.
'Whose then? Whose then? What the devil! Why, the houndsdirts must belong
to you! Whose can they be? If they are my little cousin's I will soon
make her see I will have them,' the Prussian monarch shouted.
'They belong to her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin, sire.'
'What, that woman? Ha! you took her to Mömpelgard, I hear! Ridiculous
things, women--want the lash, the whip. Do you hear, old comrade?--every
woman wants the lash. Look at my daughter now--absurd hussy! will not
marry. I ought to lash her, but she hides behind her mother's petticoats.
Ridiculous things, women.'
Serenissimus endeavoured to lead the shouting monarch from the orangery,
but he was not to be outdone.
'Come to Berlin, boy; fine uniforms, good beer, and tobacco. Come, you
will love me like your father!' he yelled at the tallest gardener,
bestowing a heavy blow on the youth's shoulders with the stout cudgel
which he always carried. The end of it was that Eberhard Ludwig made him
a present of the Landhofmeisterin's gardeners, and the King in high good
humour retired to take an hour's nap before starting to enjoy some
wild-boar sticking in the forest.
All that day the Landhofmeisterin did not see Serenissimus, only in the
afternoon she received a billet from him in which he forbade her to
attend the supper in the state banqueting-hall. 'The Erbprincessin will
be the only lady; she, being the King's cousin, must attend, but I
command you to remain away. You will understand my reasons when you
consider the events of this morning.--E. L.'
The letter was short, formal, cold in tone, and the Landhofmeisterin was
deeply wounded. She had known that Friedrich Wilhelm would be unfriendly
to her; his rough virtue, and hatred of illicit relationships, were
famous throughout Germany, and she was aware that he would view with
displeasure the magnificence and the French manners of Ludwigsburg. Had
he not stamped, beaten, and roared out of existence every trace of the
elegance and pomp of the Berlin court as it had been under his father,
Friedrich I.?--that monarch who, by the way, had granted the Grävenitz
that Letter of Royal Protection twenty years ago.
Still, though Friedrich Wilhelm had refused to ratify or acknowledge this
document when begged to do so by the Duke of Zollern, the
Landhofmeisterin had counted him as more or less bound by it, and the
idea that he could utterly ignore her had never entered her head.
Moreover, she thought she would not need the protection of Prussia. She
had prepared a vast fortune out of Wirtemberg, and if death claimed
Eberhard Ludwig before her own demise, she intended to retire to
Schaffhausen and finish her days in magnificent seclusion. Yet it was
infinitely galling to be hidden away in this manner. She raged at the
thought of the courtiers' sneers. Not attend the supper? She, the ruler
of Ludwigsburg and Wirtemberg, to be hidden like a common mistress! And
then how coldly Eberhard Ludwig wrote to her. 'Alas! all things pass,'
she said, and wept bitterly. The day wore on. She tried to read, to
occupy herself, but she could not fix her mind on anything; her thoughts
reverted to her humiliation. At last she heard the noise of the
sportsmen's return, and Friedrich Wilhelm's loud voice shouting and
laughing. Would Eberhard Ludwig come to her now? But no; she waited, and
no one disturbed her solitude.
At length Maria brought her a tray covered with dishes of delicious
viands.
'If her Excellency refuses to be served properly in the dining-room, as
usual, she must at least have a mouthful to eat,' the honest soul
declared, and she hovered round the Grävenitz, imploring her to taste
this or that, to drink a little wine; but the Landhofmeisterin pushed
away her plate, saying that the food choked her, and Maria, grumbling,
carried away the untasted supper.
Once more, Wilhelmine fell to listening. She heard the noise of a crowd
gathering in the courtyard. She rang her handbell, and when Maria
appeared she questioned her on the reason of a crowd being admitted to
the palace precincts. His Highness had commanded the gates to be thrown
open, she was told; it was the Prussian King's custom to permit the
populace to see him eat.
'Disgusting!' quoth the Landhofmeisterin haughtily. 'I can smell the
varlets from here. Sprinkle rose-water about the room, Maria.'
The hours dragged on monotonously. The noise of the crowd in the
courtyard was drowned by the loud strains of the massed bands of the
regiments in Ludwigsburg, who had been commanded to play before the
windows of the banqueting-hall. The Landhofmeisterin's musicians with
their harps, violins, and flutes were banished during the Prussian King's
visit, for he hated all music save that of trumpet and drum. At length
the Landhofmeisterin could bear her solitude and suspense no longer. She
slipped into the statue gallery, and through a secret door to the Duke's
private stairs. The topmost flight led to a small gallery which looked
into the banqueting-hall. She had often watched from here the hunting
dinners which his Highness gave, and from which ladies were naturally
excluded. It was many years since one of these entertainments had taken
place, and the staircase had fallen into disrepair; it was dirty and
dusty, and creaked under her Excellency's tread. 'Disgraceful neglect!
the housekeeper-in-charge shall be fined,' murmured the tyrant as she
mounted. The door leading to the gallery was ajar. The Landhofmeisterin's
face darkened with anger. Had some serving-maids dared to creep up to
watch the doings in the banqueting-hall? But there was no one in the
gallery, and she bent down, peering through the stucco balustrade into
the hall below. Her attention was arrested by a cackling snigger behind
her--a horrid, mocking, wheezy titter in the shadow of the overhanging
ornamentation of the banqueting-hall roof, which came low down over the
little gallery. She turned quickly and saw the grotesque, ape-like figure
of one of the court dwarfs. Her Excellency had introduced these hideous
abortions into Ludwigsburg, having read that they were a feature of the
Spanish court in its grandest days. Eberhard Ludwig, disgusted at the
sight of the puny monstrosities, had refused to permit them to go about
the palace, and they had been relegated, poor displeasing toys, to the
servants' regions. Here they were kicked and cuffed and made cruel sport
of. During the foregoing winter one dwarf had died, and the other roamed
around like some miserable outcast cur, lurking in dark corners, hiding
from all living things, which he accounted rightly as his tormentors. He
cowered before the Landhofmeisterin, laughing his horrible, cackling
snigger, which was half mockery, half terror. He expected the
Landhofmeisterin to push him brutally aside, but her sorrow had made her
suddenly gentle; she felt dimly that this wretched creature was an
outcast, and so was she. 'Poor dwarf,' she said gently, 'I had thought
you were dead! So you still wander in this vale of tears?' She spoke
almost mockingly, and yet there was that in her tone which gave hope to
the wretched being.
'O Madame, I am so miserable! They beat me, cuff me, the serving-maids
pinch me, scratch me with their bodkins! They say you are hard and cold
and cruel, but oh, have mercy on me!'
'_I_ hard and cold and cruel?' she replied incredulously. 'Do they say
that?' She had no idea that success and prosperity had thus changed her;
the world-hardened never know it themselves.
'Ah, yes, they say that; but, I pray you, have mercy on me.' The poor,
distorted figure threw itself down, grovelling at the Landhofmeisterin's
feet.
'Go to my apartments in the pavilion and await me, I will attend to you
in an hour's time. Stay, here is my ring; show that to the sentry and he
will admit you,' she said. She would send him back to his Swiss mountain
valley with gold enough to last him for his lifetime. Perhaps, if she did
good to this outcast, God would relent, would give her back Eberhard
Ludwig's love? The dwarf went, and the Landhofmeisterin turned her
attention to the scene in the banqueting-hall.
The banquet was finished, but the guests still sat round the table with
wine-reddened faces. The Prussian King loved to drink deep; he said he
abhorred the milksop who could not follow him to the dregs of a tankard,
and that was indeed no paltry measure. The Erbprincessin sat to the
King's right, his Highness himself was on his Majesty's left. The
Erbprinz, white and weary, sat opposite. The holders of important court
charges were grouped around according to their respective ranks.
Friedrich Grävenitz, as Count of the Empire and Prime Minister of
Wirtemberg, sat to the left of Serenissimus; Prelate Osiander came next,
then Schütz and Sittmann, and the brothers Pfau. Reischach, the Master of
the Hunt; Baron Roeder, Master of the Horse; the Oberhofmarshall, the
other Geheimräthe; the generals and officers of his Highness's staff;
the colonels of the Silver Guard, of the Chevaliergarde; the young
captain of the Cadets à Cheval. Among the Wirtemberg courtiers were
seated various members of the Prussian suite: Grumbkow, the powerful
favourite; General Dönhoff; and the Austrian Ambassador at Berlin, Count
Seckendorff, who always followed Friedrich Wilhelm I., a spy and
intriguer in friendship's guise.
It was a brilliant assemblage, but it was well to be seen that deep
drinking had been indulged in. Besides the Erbprincessin, only Osiander
and the Erbprinz had calm and unflushed faces. The Landhofmeisterin's
eyes wandered from Friedrich Wilhelm to Eberhard Ludwig; his face was
flushed, and he swayed a little in his chair. His Highness was usually a
moderate drinker, and, though during his various campaigns he had drunk
and revelled like the rest, the Landhofmeisterin had never seen him with
that vacant, sottish look, and her soul sickened at the sight. The
Erbprincessin rose and took her leave, Friedrich Wilhelm shouting rough,
good-natured pleasantries to her. Then his Majesty's friend, Grumbkow,
craving the Duke's permission, called the lackey in charge, who produced
the King's huge pipe, and in a few minutes the Landhofmeisterin saw the
stately banqueting-hall take the aspect and smell of a tabagie. Dense
clouds of smoke rose up, and she saw that the Prussian King was again
served with an enormous jug of beer. The banqueting-hall was transformed,
no trace of elegance or courtly grace seemed to remain; it had become a
pothouse, of which Eberhard Ludwig was the jovial host. The
Landhofmeisterin quivered with disgust, his Highness appeared sunken to a
different level. She watched and listened; the music in the courtyard had
ceased, and she could hear what they said in the banqueting-hall.
'What! Sapperment! you compose fiddling tunes, young man?' Friedrich
Wilhelm was roaring at the shrinking Erbprinz. 'Just like my fool of a
son. He blows squeaks on a tube which he calls my beloved flute' (the
King gave a rough imitation of his son's refined speech). 'No good at
all, this younger generation--eh! what, old comrade? A good fight, a good
glass of beer, a good pipe, a good wife--that's what a man needs; no
French jiggery and music nonsense. Fool's play--eh, what? what?' He spoke
in German; such German as it was, too, vitiated by French words which he
could not avoid, as he knew no others, adorned with unquotable oaths,
short-clipped, rough phrases--the language of the man-at-arms in the
guard-room. Yet he possessed a certain breezy charm, and Eberhard Ludwig
seemed to respond to it. In truth, the King, when he was not in one of
his furious rages, was a boon companion, and appealed to the brutish
swagger which lies dormant in every man's being.
At length the company rose from table and gathered in groups of three or
four, while the King and his host retired into the embrasure of one of
the windows. The Landhofmeisterin saw that Friedrich Wilhelm spoke
earnestly to Serenissimus; she noted the embarrassment on the Duke's
face, he seemed like a chidden schoolboy, and with dismay the
Landhofmeisterin observed that he was evidently impressed by the King's
words. Could this rude monarch persuade so polished and refined a being
as Eberhard Ludwig? Did he endeavour to separate her lover from her? A
presentiment came to her; she knew instinctively that this was what the
King essayed. After nearly an hour, the two men came forth from the
window's embrasure, and she saw how the King held out his hand to
Eberhard Ludwig, and how his Highness gripped and held it, saying
something in a low, earnest tone.
She strained her ears, yet she could not catch the words; but she saw
Friedrich Wilhelm's satisfied face. He clapped his Highness between the
shoulders with a heavy hand. Evidently Serenissimus met with his
Majesty's entire approval. The company broke up for the night, and the
Landhofmeisterin rose from her cramped, kneeling position and took her
way back to her apartments. A cruel foreknowledge of disaster
overshadowed her; something unusual, elusively sinister, haunted her.
As she passed his Highness's door she hesitated. Should she go in bravely
and speak her fear to him? Pride forbade, and a certain sense of
hopelessness. She drew herself up proudly. No, he loved her; how could
he change after twenty years? He could not escape her, for she was his
life; all his memories were hers, his past, his present; therefore she
argued, as a woman always argues, his future too must be hers.
She passed into her apartments and, opening her window, leaned far out.
How silent it was in the garden! The moonlight played gently over the
terraces, only the splash of the fountains broke the stillness. The air
was delicious, scented with freshness, and after the noisome fumes of
wine, beer, victuals, and tobacco in the banqueting-hall, she thought the
night air was laden with rose fragrance. So it had been on that far-off
night in the Stuttgart palace gardens after the theatricals. Time had not
played havoc then with Nature. How weary she was! Suddenly a moan in the
room behind her attracted her attention. She started nervously, and, as
usual, the thought of the White Lady worked in her mind. They said the
poor ghost moaned when death drew near to any of her descendants, and she
was Eberhard Ludwig's ancestress. The Landhofmeisterin dared not turn her
head for fear she should see a tall, white, shrouded figure with
bloodstained hands. Again the moan.
'Who is there?' the Landhofmeisterin said tremulously.
'Pardon, Madame, you said I was to await you.' It was only the dwarf,
then. Her Excellency almost laughed in her relief.
'Ah! I had forgotten you. Well, tell me your story now. I am listening,'
she said. It would serve to pass the time till his Highness came, for he
would come, she told herself.
The dwarf stood trembling before her, ridiculous, grotesque, infinitely
pathetic. He poured forth the tale of his miserable life, of the taunts,
the jeers, the kicks, the cuffs, the lack of food which he had often
suffered in the midst of the lavish splendour of Ludwigsburg.
Incidentally he let her see how the very servants of the palace spoke of
her, and how they mocked her authority when they dared.
His was a pitiful life-history, and the Landhofmeisterin was moved to
compassion; her own heart was sore, and already the crust of
world-hardness had begun to melt under the tears which were welling up
ready to be shed.
She told the dwarf that he was free to return to that humble cottage in
the Swiss valley which he called home. There and then she wrote out a
passport for him and an order for a seat in the Duke's diligence as far
as the frontier; she gave him a purse of gold, and, more precious still,
an official command to all to treat the deformed traveller with
consideration; also, as postscriptum, an intimation that if the dwarf did
not reach his home safe and unrobbed, she would cause the whole Secret
Service to track the offender, who would suffer the utmost penalty of the
law. With this document the dwarf could have travelled from one end of
Wirtemberg to the other in safety; nay, more, he was sure of even servile
acceptance from high and low, for never was monarch so feared in his
domains as the Güstrow adventuress in the Dukedom of Wirtemberg.
'God reward you for this great good,' the dwarf said as he turned to
leave her presence, and she answered sadly:
'It is too late; God's hand is heavy upon me.' But she did not believe
it.
The hours passed, and still the Landhofmeisterin waited for Eberhard
Ludwig. She watched the grey dawn slip into the sky, then the glow of the
awaking sun came, and she knew that she waited in vain.