THE QUEEN AS A MATRIMONIAL AGENT.
The queen-mother was taking a walk in the garden of Monbijou. She was
unusually gay today, and her countenance wore an expression of
happiness to which it had long been a stranger. And the queen had good
reason to be gay, for she seemed on the point of realizing the proud
anticipations she had indulged in for so many weary years. Her son was
carrying into execution the promises which he had made on his first
visit, and in which she had hardly dared to believe. She had already
received the first monthly payment of her income as queen-dowager,
which her son had largely increased. New appointments had been made to
her court, and it had been placed on a truly royal footing; and
yesterday the king had told her that he had already chosen a site for
her new palace. Moreover, the homage she received from the entire
court, and more especially from the king's favorites, bore evidence to
the fact that her influence was considered great, and that much
importance was attached to her grace and favor. While Queen Elizabeth
was passing her time joylessly at the Castle of Schonhausen, to which
she had retired, the entire court was assembling at Monbijou, and
hastening to do homage to the queen-mother. Even the young king, who
had not yet paid a single visit to his wife at Schonhausen, waited on
the queen his mother daily, accompanied by a brilliant suite of
cavaliers.[13]
[13] Thiebault, ii., page 84.
The queen Sophia Dorothea had good reason to be gay, and to entertain
the happiest anticipations in regard to the future. To-day for the
first time she could take her morning walk attended by her brilliant
suite, for the last appointments had only been made on the preceding
day. When the queen now looked around, and she did so from time to
time, she no longer saw the two maids of honor of earlier days walking
languidly behind her. Six of the most beautiful ladies, all of the
first nobility, had been appointed to the queen's service, and were now
engaged in a merry conversation with the four cavaliers in attendance
on the queen, who had been selected for this office by the king
himself. While conversing with her marshal, Count Rhedern, she could
hear the merry laughter of the newly-appointed maid of honor Louise von
Schwerin, and the soft, melodious voice of the beautiful Laura von
Pannewitz, whose grace and loveliness had even excited the admiration
of her husband the king, and for a few weeks thrown him into a state to
which he was entirely unaccustomed.[14]
[14] Memoires de Frederique Wilhelmine de Baireuth, vol. ii., p. 308.
The queen, as we have said, was unusually gay, for she had just
received a new proof of her own importance, and of the influence she
was supposed to exert on the young king her son.
Count Rhedern had solicited the assistance of the queen-mother in a
very delicate and important matter, and had requested her to advocate
his cause with King Frederick. The count desired to marry, but the
permission of the king was still wanting, and would probably be very
difficult to obtain, for the count's chosen was unfortunately not of a
noble family, but had the misfortune to be the daughter of a Berlin
merchant.
"But," said the queen, after this confidential communication, "I do not
understand why it is that you wish to marry this girl. I should think
the nobility of our kingdom was not so poor in beautiful and
marriageable ladies that a Count Rhedern should find it necessary to
stoop so low in search of a wife. Look behind you, count, and you will
see the loveliest ladies, all of whom are of pure and unblemished
descent."
"True, your majesty. These ladies are beautiful, of good birth, young
and amiable, but one thing is wanting to make them perfect.
Mademoiselle Orguelin is neither beautiful nor of good birth, neither
young nor amiable, but she has the one thing which those fairies lack,
and for the sake of this one thing I am forced to marry her."
"Count, you speak in riddles, and as it seems to me in riddles of
doubtful propriety," said the queen, almost angrily. "What is this one
thing which Mademoiselle Orguelin has, and on account of which you are
compelled to marry her?"
"Your majesty, this one thing is money."
"Ah, money," said the queen, smiling; "really, it well becomes a
cavalier to marry beneath him for the sake of money!"
"Your majesty, it is because I am mindful of the duties which my rank
impose on me, and of the demands which a cavalier of my standing should
meet, that I have determined to make this misalliance. Your majesty
will be indulgent if I dare open before you the skeleton closet, and
unveil the concealed misery of my house. The Counts Rhedern are an old
and illustrious race. My ancestors were always rich in virtues but poor
in gold. Economy seems to have been the one virtue they ever possessed;
they were too generous to reject any appeal made to them, and too proud
to limit their expenditures to their small income. Outwardly they
maintained the pomp suitable to their standing, while they gnawed
secretly and unseen at the hard crust of want. Thus from father to son
the debts were constantly increasing, and the revenues becoming smaller
and smaller. If I do not make an end of this, and sever the Gordian
knot like Alexander, instead of attempting the wearisome task of
untying it, I shall soon present to the court and nobility the sad
spectacle of a Count Rhedern who is compelled to give up his hotel, his
equipage, his furniture, and his servants, and live like a beggar."
"Ah, this is really a sad and pressing affair!" exclaimed the queen,
sympathizingly, "but are there no heiresses among the nobility, whose
fortunes might save you?"
"None, your majesty, who like Mademoiselle Orguelin would bring me a
fortune of three millions."
"Three millions! That is a great deal, and I can now perfectly well
understand why you are compelled to marry this Orguelin. You have my
consent, and I think I can safely promise you that of my son the king.
Make your arrangements and fear nothing. I guarantee that the king will
not refuse your request."
"After what your majesty has said, I feel assured on this point,"
exclaimed Count Rhedern, with a sigh.
"How, and you still sigh, count?"
"Your majesty, I need the permission of one other person--the
acceptance of the bride. And to this acceptance is appended a
condition, the fulfilment of which again depends upon your majesty's
kindness."
"Well, truly, this is a strange state of affairs. You speak gravely of
your approaching marriage, and as yet are not even engaged. You speak
of your bride, but Mademoiselle Orguelin has not yet accepted you, and
whether she will or not, you say, depends on me."
"Yes, on your majesty, for this girl, who is as proud of her three
millions as if it were the oldest and most illustrious pedigree,
consents to be my wife only on the condition that she is acknowledged
at court, and has access, as Countess Rhedern, to all court
festivities."
"Truly this is a great pretension!" exclaimed the queen, angrily. "A
pedlar's daughter who carries arrogance so far as to wish to appear at
the court of the King of Prussia! This can never be, and never could I
advocate such an innovation: it is destructive, and only calculated to
diminish the prestige of the nobility, and to deprive it of its
greatest and best privilege--that privilege which entitles it alone to
approach royalty. It was this view which prevented me from receiving
the so-called Count Neal at my court, although my son the king admits
him to his presence, and desires that I also should recognize this
count of his creation. But, as a queen and a lady, I can never do this.
There must be a rampart between royalty and the low and common world,
and a pure and unblemished nobility alone can form this rampart. You
see, therefore, my poor count, that I cannot accede to this request."
"Have compassion on me, your majesty. If your majesty will but remember
that I am ruined; but I am a beggar if this union does not take place,
if I do not marry the three millions of Mademoiselle Orguelin."
"Ah, certainly, I had forgotten that," said the queen, thoughtfully.
"Moreover," continued the count, somewhat encouraged, "this is a
different affair altogether, and I do not believe that a principle is
here at stake, as was the case with the so-called Count Neal. A man
represents himself and his house, and no power on earth can give him
better or nobler blood than already flows in his veins. But with a
woman it is different. She receives her husband's name and his rank;
she becomes blood of his blood, and can in no manner affect his
nobility. The sons of Countess Rhedern will still be the Counts
Rhedern, although the mother is not of noble birth."
"True," said the queen, "this case is different from that of the
adventurer Neal. The rank of her husband would be sufficient to permit
us to draw a veil over the obscure birth of this new-made countess."
"And your majesty would then be the noble protectrice of our family,"
said the count, in a sweet and insinuating tone; "your majesty would
not only restore my house to its ancient prestige, but you would retain
the three millions of Mademoiselle Orguelin in Prussia; for if I should
not be able to fulfil the condition which this lady has made,
Mademoiselle Orguelin will marry a rich young Hollander, who is the
commercial friend of her father, and has come here for the especial
purpose of suing for the hand of his daughter."
"Ah, if that is the case, it becomes almost a duty to give you this
girl, in order to prevent her millions from leaving the country," said
the queen, smiling. "Be hopeful, count, your wish will be granted, and
this little millionnaire, who longs to appear at court, shall have her
desire. I will speak with my son on this subject to-day; and you may
take it for granted that your request will meet with a favorable
response."
And the queen, who was proud and happy to have an opportunity of
showing the count how great was her influence with her royal son,
graciously permitted him to kiss her hand, and listened well pleased to
his exclamations of gratitude and devotion.
She then dismissed him with a gracious inclination of her head,
requesting him to inform Madame von Brandt, whose laughing voice could
be heard at a short distance, that she desired to see her.
While the count hurried off to execute the commission of his royal
mistress, the queen walked on slowly and thoughtfully. Now that she was
permitted to be a queen, her woman's nature again made itself felt; she
found it quite amusing to have a hand in the love affairs which were
going on around her, and to act the part of the beneficent fairy in
making smooth the path of true love. Two of the first noblemen of her
court had to-day solicited her kind offices in their love affairs, and
both demanded of her the reestablishment of the prosperity and splendor
of their houses.
The queen, as before said, felt flattered by these demands, and was in
her most gracious humor when Madame von Brandt made her appearance.
Their conversation was at first on indifferent subjects, but Madame von
Brandt knew very well why the queen honored her with this interview,
and kept the match in readiness to fire the train with which she had
undermined the happiness and love of poor Laura von Pannewitz.
"Do you know," asked the queen suddenly, "that we have a pair of lovers
at my court?"
"A pair of lovers!" repeated Madame von Brandt, and so apparent was the
alarm and astonishment depicted in her countenance that the queen was
startled.
"Is this, then, so astonishing?" asked the queen, smiling. "You express
so much alarm that one might suppose we were living in a convent, where
it is a crime to speak of love and marriage. Or were you only a little
annoyed at not having heard of this love affair?"
"Your majesty," said Madame von Brandt, "I knew all about this affair,
but had no idea that you had any knowledge of it."
"Certainly you must have known it, as Mademoiselle von Pannewitz is
your friend, and has very naturally made you her confidant."
"Yes, I have been her confidant in this unhappy and unfortunate love,"
said Madame von Brandt, with a sigh; "but I can assure your majesty
that I have left no arguments, no prayers, and even no threats untried
to induce this poor young girl to renounce her sad and unfortunate
love."
"Well, you might have saved yourself this trouble," said the queen,
smiling; "for this love is not, as you say, a sad and unfortunate one,
but a happy one! Count Voss came to me this morning as a suitor for the
hand of Mademoiselle von Pannewitz."
"Poor, unhappy Laura!" sighed Madame von Brandt.
"How!" exclaimed the queen, "you still pity her, when I assure you that
hers is not an unhappy, but a happy love, reciprocated by Count Voss,
who is a suitor for her hand?"
"But what has Count Voss to do with Laura's love?" asked Madame von
Brandt, with such well-acted astonishment that the unsuspecting queen
might very well be deceived.
"Truly this is a strange question," exclaimed the queen. "You have just
told me that Mademoiselle von Pannewitz entertains an unfortunate
attachment for Count Voss; and when I inform you that so far from hers
being an unfortunate attachment, it is returned by Count Voss, who is
at this moment a suitor for her hand, you ask, with an air of
astonishment, 'What has Count Voss to do with Laura's love?'"
"Pardon me, your majesty, I did not say that my poor friend loved Count
Voss."
"How!" exclaimed the queen, impatiently; "it is then not Count Voss?
Pray, who has inspired her with this unfortunate love? Who is he? Do
you know his name?"
"Your majesty, I know him; but I have vowed on the Bible never to
mention his name."
"It was very inconsiderate in you to make such a vow," exclaimed the
queen, impatiently.
"Your majesty, she who demanded it of me was my friend, and in view of
her sorrow and tears I could not refuse a request by the fulfilment of
which she would at least have the sad consolation of pouring out her
sorrow and anguish into the bosom of a true and discreet friend. But
the very friendship I entertain for her makes it my bounden duty to
implore your majesty to sustain the offer of Count Voss with all the
means at your command, and, if necessary, even to compel my poor Laura
to marry him."
"How! You say she loves another, and still desire that I should compel
her to marry Count Voss?"
"Your majesty, there is no other means of averting evil from the head
of my dear Laura; no other means of preserving two noble hearts from
the misery their unfortunate passions might produce. Laura is a noble
and virtuous girl, but she loves, and would not long be able to
withstand the passionate entreaties of her lover; she would hear no
voice but that of him she loves."
"This love is then returned?" asked the queen.
"Oh, your majesty, Laura's maidenly pride would preserve her from an
unrequited love."
"And still you call this love an unfortunate one?"
"I call it so because there are insurmountable obstacles in its way; an
abyss lies between these lovers, across which they can never clasp
hands. In order to be united they would have to precipitate themselves
into its depths! Every word of love which these unfortunates utter is a
crime--is high treason."
"High treason!" exclaimed the queen, whose eyes sparkled with anger.
"Ah, I understand you now. This proud, arrogant girl raises her eyes to
a height to which a princess of the blood alone can aspire. In her
presumption this girl thinks to play the role of a La Valliere or a
Maintenon. Yes, I now comprehend every thing--her pallor, her sighs,
her melancholy, and her blushes, when I told her I expected the king
and his court here to-day. Yes, it must be so. Mademoiselle von
Pannewitz loves the--"
"Your majesty," exclaimed Madame von Brandt, imploringly, "have the
goodness not to mention the name. I should have to deny it, and that
would be an offence to your majesty; but if I should acknowledge it, I
would be false to my vow and my friendship. In your penetration, your
majesty has divined what I hardly dared indicate, and my noble queen
now comprehends why an early marriage with Count Voss would be the best
means of preserving the happiness of two noble hearts."
"Mademoiselle von Pannewitz will have to make up her mind to become the
bride of Count Voss within the hour!" exclaimed the queen, imperiously.
"Woe to her if in her arrogance she should refuse to give up a love
against which the whole force of my royal authority shall be brought to
bear."
"May your majesty follow the suggestions of your wisdom in all things!
I only request that your majesty will graciously conceal from poor
Laura that you discovered her unhappy secret through me."
"I promise you that," said the queen, who, forgetful of her royal
dignity, in her angry impatience turned around and advanced hastily
toward her suite, who, on her approach, remained standing in a
respectful attitude.
At this moment a lacquey, dressed in the royal livery, was seen
advancing from the palace; he approached the maid of honor then on
duty, Mademoiselle von Pannewitz, and whispered a few words in her ear.
Hurrying forward, this young lady informed the queen that her majesty
the reigning queen had just arrived, and desired to know if her majesty
would receive her. The queen did not reply immediately. She looked
scornfully at the young girl who stood before her, humbly and
submissively, with downcast eyes, and although she did not look up at
the queen, she seemed to feel her withering and scornful glances, for
she blushed deeply, and an anxious expression was depicted on her
countenance.
The queen observed that the blushing Laura was wonderfully beautiful,
and in her passionate anger could have trodden her under foot for this
presumptuous and treasonable beauty. She felt that it was impossible
longer to remain silent, longer to defer the decision. The queen's
anger fairly flamed within her, and threatened to break forth; she was
now a passionate, reckless woman, nothing more; and she was guided by
her passion and the power of her angry pride alone.
"I am going to receive her majesty," said Sophia Dorothea, with
trembling lips. "Her majesty has presented herself unceremoniously, and
I shall therefore receive her without ceremony. All of you will remain
here except Mademoiselle von Pannewitz, who will accompany me."