THE POLITICIAN AND THE FRENCH TAILOR.
Without, the scene had changed in the meanwhile. The attention of the
people had been attracted to the king's presence by the royal equipage
which was slowly driving down the street, and one and all hurried from
their houses to see and greet their handsome young monarch. Men and
women, young and old, were running about confusedly, each one inquiring
of his neighbor why the king had come, and where he might now be, as
his carriage was apparently awaiting him. And why was that fat man, who
was seated on the sidewalk, sketching this sandy place with its poor
little houses?
Even the proud and self-satisfied Mr. Pricker had not considered it
beneath his dignity to descend to the street door, where he took his
stand surrounded by his assistants and apprentices.
"It is said the king has gone into the house of Schommer, the grocer,"
said one of his assistants, returning from a reconnoissance he had made
among the noisy and gossiping multitude.
Mr. Pricker shook his head gravely. "He must have been misinformed, for
he undoubtedly intended coming to this house and paying me a visit, an
intention which would be neither novel nor surprising in my family.
None of the rulers of the house of Hohenzollern have as yet neglected
to pay a visit to the house of Pricker. The present king will not fail
to observe this noble custom, for--"
The worthy Mr. Pricker was interrupted by the shouts of the people. The
king had appeared upon the streets, and was greeted with vociferous
cheers, amid the waving of hats and handkerchiefs.
Mr. Pricker, observing with intense satisfaction that the king had
turned and was advancing in the direction of his house, stepped forward
with a self-gratulatory smile, and placed himself immediately at the
side of the king's path. But the king passed by without noticing him.
On this occasion he did not return the greeting of the people in quite
so gracious a manner as usual; his eye was dim, and his brow clouded.
Without even favoring the smiling and bowing Pricker with a glance, he
passed on to the carriage which awaited him in front of the court
dressmaker's. The king entered hastily, his cavaliers following him,
and the carriage drove off. The shouting of the populace continued,
however, until it disappeared in the distance.
"Why do these poor foolish people shout for joy?" grumbled Mr. Pricker,
shrugging his shoulders. Now that the king had taken no notice of him,
this man was enraged. "What do they mean by these ridiculous cries, and
this waving of hats? The king regarded them as discontentedly as if
they were vermin, and did not even favor them with a smile. How
low-spirited he is! his not recognizing me, the court dressmaker of his
wife, shows this conclusively. It must have been his intention to visit
me, for his carriage had halted immediately in front of my door; in his
depression he must have entirely forgotten it."
The crowd had begun to disperse, and but a few isolated groups could
now be seen, who were still eagerly engaged in discussing the king's
appearance.
At a short distance from Mr. Pricker were several grave and dignified
citizens, dressed in long coats ornamented with immense ivory buttons,
and wearing long cues, which looked out gravely from the three-cornered
hats covering their smooth and powdered hair.
Mr. Pricker observed these citizens, and with a friendly greeting
beckoned to them to approach. "My worthy friends, did you also come to
see the king?"
"No, we were only passing, but remained standing when we saw the king."
"A very handsome young man."
"A very wise and learned young king."
"And still--"
"Yes, and still--"
"Yes, that is my opinion also, worthy friends," sighed Mr. Pricker.
"The many innovations and ordinances; it terrifies one to read them."
"Every day something new."
"Yes, it is not as it was in the good old times, under the late
lamented king. Ah, we then led a worthy and respectable life. One knew
each day what the next would bring forth. He who hungered to-day knew
that he would also do so on the morrow; he who was rich to-day knew
that he would still be so on the morrow. Ours was an honest and
virtuous existence. Prudence and propriety reigned everywhere; as a
husband and father, the king set us an exalted example."
"It is true, one ran the risk of being struck occasionally; and if a
man had the misfortune to be tall, he was in danger of being enrolled
among the guards," said another. "But this was all. In other respects,
however, one lived quietly enough, smoked his pipe, and drank his pot
of beer, and in these two occupations we could also consider the king
as our model and ideal."
"But now!"
"Yes, now! Every thing changes with the rapidity of the wind. He who
but yesterday was poor, is rich to-day; the man who was rich yesterday,
is to-day impoverished and thrown aside; this was the fate of the Privy
Counsellor von Eckert. I worked for him, and he was a good customer,
for he used a great many gloves, almost a dozen pair every month; and
now I have lost this good customer by the new government."
"But, then, Eckert deserved it," said the fat beer brewer. "He
oppressed the people, and was altogether an arrogant puffed-up fellow,
who greeted nobody, not even myself. It serves him right that the king
has taken the new house in Jager Street away from him; there was
justice in that."
"But the late lamented king had given it to him, and his last will
should have been honored."
"Yes, that is true; the last will of the late lamented monarch should
have been honored," they all exclaimed with earnest gravity.
"Oh, we will have to undergo a great many trials," sighed Mr. Pricker.
"Could you believe, my friends, that they contemplate depriving us of
our respectable cue, and replacing it with a light, fantastic, and
truly immoral wig?"
"That is impossible! That can never be! We will never submit to that!"
exclaimed the assembled group, with truly Grecian pathos.
"They wish to give us French fashions," continued Pricker; "French
fashions and French manners. I can see the day coming when we will have
French glovemakers and shoemakers, French hair-dressers and
beer-brewers; yes, and even French dressmakers. I see the day coming
when a man may with impunity hang out a sign with French inscriptions
over his shop-door, and when he who intersperses his honest German with
French phrases, will no longer be well beaten. Ah, the present king
will not, like his lamented predecessor, have two girls arrested
because they have said 'charmant;' he will not, with his own hands,
belabor the young lads who have the assurance to appear on the streets
in French costumes, as the deceased king so often did. Every thing will
be different, but not better, only more French."
"Yes, could it be believed," exclaimed the fat beer-brewer, "that they
think of crying down beer, the favorite beverage of the late lamented
king, which, at all events, should be holy in the sight of his son? At
court no more beer will be drank, but only French wines; and he who
wishes to be modern and acceptable at court will turn up his nose at
the beer-pot, and drink mean and adulterated wines. Yes, even coffee is
coming into fashion, and the coffee-house keeper in the
pleasure-garden, who, up to the present time, was only permitted to
make coffee for the royal family and a few other rich people at court,
has not alone received permission to serve coffee to everybody, but
every innkeeper may do the same thing."
"And have you heard," asked the glovemaker gloomily, "that the two
hotel-keepers in Berlin, Nicolai and St. Vincent, have their rivals,
and will no longer keep the only houses where a good dinner can be had
for money? Two French cooks have already arrived, and one of them has
opened a house in Frederick Street, the other one in King Street, which
they call 'Restauration.'"
"Yes," said the shoemaker with a sigh, "I went to the French house in
Frederick Street yesterday, and ate a meal out of curiosity. Ah, my
friends, I could have cried for rage, for I am sorry to say that it was
a better meal than we could ever get at Nicolai's or St. Vincent's;
moreover I paid less for it."
"It is a shame. A Frenchman comes here and gives a better and cheaper
dinner than a native of Berlin," said Mr. Pricker. "I tell you we will
all have much to endure; and even my title is insufficient to protect
me from insult and humiliation, for it might happen that--"
Mr. Pricker suddenly became silent and stared toward the centre of the
street, astonishment and curiosity depicted on his countenance and on
that of his friends, who followed the direction of his glances.
And in truth a very unusual spectacle presented itself to these worthy
burghers. A carriage was slowly passing along the street drawn by two
weary and smoking horses. This carriage was of the elegant and modern
French make, now becoming fashionable at court, and was called a
chaise. As the top was thrown back, its occupants could very well be
seen.
On the front seat were three persons. The first was a man of grave and
earnest demeanor and commanding appearance. His tall and well-made
figure was clad in a black velvet coat with little silver buttons,
ornamented on the sleeves and breast with elegant lace ruffles. His
hair, which was turning gray, was twisted in a knot at the back of his
head, from which a ribbon of enormous length was pendant. A small
three-cornered hat, of extraordinary elegance, rested on the toupet of
curls which hung down on either side of his head and shaded the
forehead, which displayed the dignity and sublimity of a Jupiter.
At his side sat two females, the middle one an elderly, grave-looking
lady; the other a beautiful young girl, with smiling lips, glowing
black eyes, and rosy cheeks. The elegant and graceful attire of these
ladies was very different from the grave and sober costume of the women
of Berlin. Their dresses were of lively colors, with wide sleeves
bordered with lace, and with long waists, the low cut of which in front
displayed in the one the beauty and freshness of her neck; and in the
other, the richness of a guipure scarf with which her throat was
covered. Their heads were covered with immense toupets of powdered
hair, surmounted by little velvet hats, from which long and waving
ribbons hung down behind.
On the back seat were three other young ladies dressed in the same
style, but less richly. This first carriage was followed by a second,
which contained six young men in French costumes, who were looking
around with lively curiosity, and laughed so loudly that the worthy
burgher who stood in front of Pricker's house could hear every word
they uttered, but unfortunately could understand nothing.
"Frenchmen!" murmured Mr. Pricker, with a slight shudder.
"Frenchmen!" echoed his friends, staring at this novel spectacle.
But how? Who was that standing by the first carriage which had halted
in front of Mr. Pricker's house? Who was that speaking with the young
girl, who smilingly leant forward from the carriage and was laughing
and jesting with him? How? Was this young man really the son and heir
of Mr. Pricker? Was he speaking to these strangers, and that, too, in
French? Yes, Mr. Pricker could not deceive himself, it was his son; it
was William, his heir.
"How? Does your son speak French?" asked the glovemaker, in a
reproachful tone.
"He so much desired to do so," said Mr. Pricker, with a sigh, "that I
was forced to consent to give him a French teacher."
William, who had observed his father, now hurried across the street.
The young man's eyes glowed; his handsome face was enlivened with joy;
his manner denoted eagerness and excitement.
"Father," said he, "come with me quickly! These strangers are so
anxious to speak with you. Just think how fortunate! I was passing
along the Charlottenburg road when I met the travellers. They addressed
me in French, and inquired for the best hotel in Berlin. It was lucky
that I understood them, and could recommend the 'City of Paris.' Ah,
father, what a beautiful and charming girl that is; how easy and
graceful! In the whole city of Berlin there is not so beautiful a girl
as Blanche. I have been walking along by the side of the carriage for
half an hour, and we have been laughing and talking like old friends;
for when I discovered who they were, and why they were coming to
Berlin, I told them who my father was directly, and then the old
gentleman became so friendly and condescending. Come, father, Mr.
Pelissier longs to make your acquaintance."
"But I do not speak French," said Mr. Pricker, who, notwithstanding his
antipathy to Frenchmen, still felt flattered by this impatience to make
his acquaintance.
"I will be your interpreter, father. Come along, for you will also be
astonished when you hear who this Mr. Pelissier is." And William drew
his father impatiently to the carriage.
Mr. Pricker's friends stood immovable with curiosity, awaiting his
return with breathless impatience. At last he returned, but a great
change had taken place in Mr. Pricker. His step was uncertain and
reeling; his lips trembled, and a dark cloud shaded his brow. He
advanced to his friends and regarded them with a wild and vacant stare.
A pause ensued. The hearts of all beat with anxiety, and an expression
of intense interest was depicted on every countenance. At last Mr.
Pricker opened his trembling lips, and spoke in deep and hollow tones:
"They are Frenchmen! yes, Frenchmen!" said he. "It is the new tailor
sent for by the king. He comes with six French assistants, and will
work for the king, the princes and the cavaliers of the court. But he
is not only a tailor but also makes ladies' clothing; and his wife and
daughter are the most celebrated dressmakers of Paris; they also are
accompanied by three female assistants, and expect to work for the
queen, the princesses, and the entire court."
"But that is impossible," exclaimed his friends. "The laws of our guild
protect us. No woman can carry on the business of a tailor."
"Nevertheless they will do so," said Pricker; "the king has accorded
them this privilege. Yes, every thing will now be different, handsomer
and better. The king summons these French dressmakers to Berlin, and
the monsters ask my advice. They wish to know of me how they are to
demean themselves toward the members of the guild. The new French
dressmaker asks advice of me, of the court dressmaker Pricker! Ha, ha,
ha! is not that laughable?" And Mr. Pricker broke out into a loud, wild
laugh, which made his friends shudder, and then sunk slowly into the
arms of the glover. His son William, who had been a witness of this
scene, hurried to his father's assistance, and carried him into the
house.
From his carriage Mr. Pelissier looked proudly down upon the poor
tailor. "The good master has fainted," said he with an Olympic smile.
"And he has good reason, for ruin is before him. He is a lost man; for
how could he, an unknown German tailor, dare to compete with Pelissier,
the son of the celebrated tailor of Louis the Fourteenth? That would
evince an assurance and folly with which I could not credit even a
German brain."