[Illustration: _QUEEN LOUISE of Prussia_]
_Life Stories for Young People_
LOUISE
QUEEN OF PRUSSIA
_Translated from the German of
Heinrich Merz_
BY
GEORGE P. UPTON
_Translator of “Memories,” “Immensee,” etc._
WITH THREE ILLUSTRATIONS
[Illustration: A. C. McCLURG & CO.]
CHICAGO
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1909
Copyright
A. C. McClurg & Co.
1909
Published August 21, 1909
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
Translator’s Preface
There have been greater queens in history,—Elizabeth of England,
Catherine of Russia, Maria Theresa of Austria, and others,—greater in
diplomacy and statecraft and power, but none purer, nobler, or lovelier
than Louise, Queen of Prussia, whose pathetic life is narrated in this
volume. No queen has suffered more from the calamities inflicted upon
her family, from the personal insults of a victorious enemy, and from
the misfortunes which visited her country; and no queen has been more
deeply beloved. The brutal attempt made by Napoleon to destroy her
reputation is one of the most disgraceful events in his career. The
insult was avenged sixty-five years later, when her second son, William
the Third, vanquished Napoleon’s nephew, entered Paris in triumph, and
was crowned Emperor of United Germany at Versailles. She will ever
remain in history the ideal of a noble, beautiful woman of refined
character, lofty patriotism, charitable nature, and exemplary goodness.
The story of her sufferings and of the patience with which she endured
them; of her love for her husband and children and country, which never
wavered, as told in this little volume, must commend her to all who
admire purity, beauty, truth, and love.
G. P. U.
Chicago, July 1, 1909.
Contents
Chapter Page
I Louise’s Youth 11
II Louise as Crown-princess of Prussia 24
III Louise as Queen 40
IV Louise in Misfortune 51
V Louise and Napoleon 86
VI Louise’s Probation 98
VII Louise’s Death 113
Appendix 128
Illustrations
Queen Louise of Prussia _Frontispiece_
Queen Louise and her two sons 70
Napoleon Bonaparte 90
Louise
Queen of Prussia
Chapter I
Louise’s Youth
“The memory of the just is blessed.”
The mother of Emperor William the Victorious, Queen Louise of Prussia, a
woman of noble instincts, rich talents, and a character purified in the
crucible of adversity, the guiding-star of her family and her country in
dark and troubled times, was born March 10, 1776, in Hanover. Her father
was Prince Karl of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, who later became Duke, and
still later, the first Grand Duke, of that principality. He served under
his brother-in-law, the Elector of Hanover (who occupied the throne of
England as George III), as field-marshal, and governor-general. Her
mother, Frederika Caroline Louise, was a daughter of Landgrave George of
Hesse-Darmstadt. Louise was her sixth child, and lost her mother May 22,
1782, when barely six years of age. In 1784 the Prince married Princess
Charlotte, the sister of the deceased; but she died also in December of
the following year. This double loss deeply pained the sensitive heart
of the child, young as she was. The sense of her loss and the longing
for mother-love accompanied her all through life and caused her to give
to her children all the tenderness that she had so sadly missed in her
own life, and tirelessly to do for them as only a mother can. The
twice-bereaved husband took leave of Hanover in 1786 and removed to
Darmstadt, where he placed the princesses in the care of their wise and
loving grandmother, Landgravine Marie, whose darling the gay and
talented little Louise had already become.
A French Swiss, Mademoiselle de Gélieu, was engaged as governess, and
proved an excellent guardian for the lively and sometimes passionate,
then again very tender-hearted, little Princess. In the education of the
German Princess under French influence—which unfortunately has been
customary at German courts and among the German nobility since the days
of Louis the Fourteenth—but one thing was lacking, namely, instruction
in her mother-tongue and in the German literature, which at that time
was so rich in promise. This was a loss which later she could not
sufficiently deplore, and which she strove with all her energy to
repair. But, on the other hand, her governess instructed her from the
beginning in the Word of God, guided her in prayer toward faith, purity
of heart, and singleness of character, as well as toward the royal road
of charity and good works, from the palace to the cottage of the poor
and the bedside of the suffering. Thus she had early training in the
practice of that graciousness and benevolence which so endeared her to
the hearts of her subjects.
Not only did Louise always retain a grateful devotion to her
preceptress, but the King, her husband, also, was warmly attached to her
and recognized her as his own benefactress, for the services she had
rendered to his consort. When he returned in triumph from Paris in July,
1814, four years after the death of Louise, he took his way through
Switzerland and with his second son (afterwards Emperor William the
First), drove to Colombier, on the Lake of Neuenburg, in the Prussian
principality of that name, to visit Mademoiselle de Gélieu, who lived
there with her brother. What a surprise it was for the venerable matron
when she saw an elegant equipage draw up before her door and three
officers alight from it, in one of whom she recognized the King of
Prussia! The King remained long in conversation with the noble woman who
had known his Louise as a child and had watched her grow to maturity.
Many were the reminiscences they exchanged about the dear departed one,
who had been his most precious earthly possession. He took an
affectionate leave of her, and among the rich gifts which he left
behind, the most precious was a shawl which the Queen had worn shortly
before her death, the sight of which moved the old lady to tears. The
King had carried with him in the campaign, like holy relics, several
objects which had belonged to the Queen and which he particularly
prized; among them, this shawl, from which he parted only as a mark of
peculiar favor to one who had been the teacher and motherly friend of
his Louise.
The following story shows that the governess moulded the will of the
Princess, not so much by command or compulsion, as through the reason,
and appeals to her tender and sympathetic heart. After several quiet
years in Darmstadt, Louise was allowed to go with her grandmother to the
old imperial city of Strasburg on a visit to her aunt, Countess of the
Palatinate of Zweibrücken, wife of Maximilian, who became the first King
of Bavaria. We may imagine what an impression the splendid cathedral
made on the lively young girl. Of course there was no peace until she
was allowed to visit the tower. As the ascent of the three hundred and
twenty-five steps was too arduous for her grandmother, she was put in
charge of the governess. Delighted with the magnificent views of the
Rhine Valley and its surrounding mountains which the platform afforded,
she would have been only too happy to climb the remaining four hundred
steps to the top of the tower. Now Mademoiselle de Gélieu was loath to
oppose her, but felt sure that her grandmother would not approve of her
ascent of this difficult and dizzy height. As the Princess kept urging
her to consent, she said: “The climb will be very difficult for me; but
as my duty demands that I shall not leave you, go, and I will follow.”
At this Louise immediately relented and replied: “No, indeed, I cannot,
and I am sorry that I have already made you climb so high!” Thus, by an
appeal to her sympathies she was easily induced to yield.
Louise particularly enjoyed two visits to Frankfort-on-the-Main, during
the coronation ceremonies of the last two emperors of the “Holy Roman
Empire of the German Nation”; one of them was that of the Emperor
Leopold the Second (1790), and the other that of the Emperor Francis
(1792). Her sister, married to the Hereditary Prince of Thurn and Taxis,
lived in Frankfort, and as her guest Louise was enabled to see the last
vestiges of glory of the old empire. Wonderful pageants they were! She
beheld the imperial treasure brought from Nürnberg and Aix-la-Chapelle
with great ceremony, in a state coach drawn by six horses, to the
cathedral; also the crown, sceptre, globe, and sword of the Holy
Mauritius, carried to the King; then His Majesty, who had just been
chosen by the seven Electors, riding from his apartments in solemn
procession to the cathedral; before him, the seven Electors in their
official robes, over him a silk-embroidered baldachin, borne by ten
councillors of the city of Frankfort; surrounding him, the imperial
court, and behind him the splendid procession of the bodyguard and
troops of the city with music and waving banners; and lastly, a
countless multitude of followers, on foot, on horseback, and in
carriages.
In the cathedral, kneeling on the altar steps during high mass, the King
took the oath on the Sacred Book of Aix-la-Chapelle, was then anointed
by the Elector of Mayence, gorgeous in his archiepiscopal robes, and
thereby made worthy to bear the sword of Charlemagne. After taking the
sacrament, he ascended the throne with the crown upon his head; then,
amid the chanting of “Lord God we praise Thee,” the tolling of the
bells, and the thunder of a hundred cannon, he was acclaimed Emperor.
The great coronation procession streaming at last out of the cathedral
proceeded to “the Römer,” over the bridge laid with cloth of the
imperial colors, which, as soon as it had passed, was appropriated by
the crowd. The hereditary marshal of the empire, filling a vessel of
silver from a great heap of oats in the market-place, presented it to
the Emperor in token that the royal stables were provisioned; the royal
chamberlain offered the silver ewer, basin, and towel; the dapifer
brought a glass from the fountain flowing with red and white wine, and
the royal treasurer, in the name of the Emperor, scattered gold and
silver coins from great purses among the scrambling crowds. All these
scenes Louise had an opportunity of witnessing as a privileged onlooker.
With what childish delight, but how modestly she regarded them! As
member of a family rich only in children, she made with her own hands
the satin shoes which were then in fashion, and which she wore.
This natural and unassuming young girl was an admirable companion for
simple, domestic Frau Goethe, mother of the celebrated poet, whom she
and her brothers and sisters were often allowed to visit. On one
occasion Louise and her brother found the old lady enjoying a delicious
German salad with an omelette. It looked so appetizing that they begged
for a portion and never stopped until they had eaten the last leaf.
Another time, the fourteen-year-old Louise and her sister Frederika
strayed into the paved court-yard, where they discovered the well and
began to pump with might and main, until their governess espied them and
tried to put a stop to the prank. Their good-natured old friend,
Mistress Goethe, tried first to pacify the irate governess, and when
that failed, locked her into a room until the sisters had pumped to
their hearts’ content. She said afterwards, that she would have taken
almost anything upon herself rather than have interfered with their
innocent fun. When they bade her good-bye, the merry girls declared they
should never forget her and the good times they had had in her house.
When Louise became Queen, she sent her old friend, among other things, a
piece of jewelry which Madame Goethe wore only upon grand occasions, in
her honor.
It was in Frankfort also where, not long afterwards, she found the great
happiness of her life. The French Revolution, which had broken out in
1789, had grown constantly to greater and more dangerous proportions. In
order to assist the threatened kingdom and its allies, who had taken
refuge in multitudes along the Rhine, King Frederick William the Second
of Prussia entered into an alliance with Austria. The French National
Assembly quickly declared war, in April, 1792. Under command of the
venerable Duke of Brunswick the campaign in France was so mismanaged
that the Allies were obliged to retreat, and the French got possession
of Mayence and on October 23, 1792, took Frankfort and burned it. The
city was recovered December 2, but Mayence had to be besieged. The King
of Prussia established his headquarters in Frankfort.
On the outbreak of hostilities the Landgravine of Hesse-Darmstadt and
her two granddaughters took refuge with their older sister, the Princess
of Hildburghausen. From there the Landgrave, who was in the suite of the
King, sent for them in order to present them to His Majesty, whose
consort was also a native of Darmstadt. When the presentation had taken
place, the grandmother intended to proceed with her charges that same
evening to Darmstadt, but was detained by an invitation to the royal
table. Here the twenty-three-year-old Crown-prince, Frederick William,
saw the seventeen-year-old Louise. The charm and graciousness of her
bearing, her delicate and youthful figure, and the sweetness of her
voice affected him; and when she looked at him with an almost frightened
expression in her large blue eyes, an inner voice seemed to say to him,
as years afterwards he used to relate, “It must be she, or no one else
on earth.” Louise had the same feeling; and a clear realization of their
destiny (so the King declared in his reminiscences of that exalted
moment) brought tears of joy to the eyes of both.
The same evening, Prince Frederick Louis Karl, three years younger than
his brother, fell in love with the fifteen-year-old Frederika. The
brothers had been close comrades from childhood, and now, through their
devotion to the two blooming sisters, they were drawn closer together
than ever before.
The Crown-prince, who had borne himself gallantly in the French
campaign, was given command of a regiment during the siege of Mayence;
but the impression made upon him by Louise was not to be dimmed by the
turmoil of war. During several visits to Darmstadt he became more
intimately acquainted with the beloved, grew to appreciate her lovely
nature, and being sure of himself, he sought and obtained the consent of
his father to their union. A month after the first meeting, April 2,
1793, the double betrothal was celebrated in the palace at Darmstadt in
the presence of the King of Prussia and the sisters of the two
_fiancées_. Two days later both Princes returned to the field with their
father, and six days afterwards the Crown-prince, at the head of his
battalion, took the village of Kostheim by storm. His brother, betrothed
of Princess Frederika, came very near losing his life one evening from
an overheated stove, as he was resting in his tent after an arduous day.
Everything about the sleeping Prince was already in flames, when a
sentinel who had smelt the smoke rushed in and rescued the unconscious
Prince from certain death. The tent was consumed, and the Prince saved
nothing but the clothes on his back. The next day the serious and
somewhat practical Crown-prince conceived the humorous idea of going to
the King and among his suite, and soliciting contributions in aid of the
“poor burned-out man.”
The Princesses ventured into the camp several times to visit their
betrothed. During one of these visits at Bodenbach, near Mayence, May
29, 1793, young Goethe, who was staying there, had an opportunity of
seeing them from his tent near by and was so entranced with both sisters
that they seemed to him like “heavenly visions” which he could never
forget. There is but one voice concerning the gracious charm of Louise,
as Princess and as Queen. She appeared to those who knew her almost like
a supernatural being. Her intimates called her an angel. The poet
Fouqué, who saw both lovely sisters on their entry into Berlin, spoke of
the “angelically beautiful brides.” The King called his gracious
daughter-in-law “the Princess of Princesses.” Even a man of intellect
like the court physician, Hufeland, tells us in after years of that
“indescribably blissful feeling” which one always had when in her
presence, “as if in the presence of a heavenly being.” Old Blücher, on
hearing of her death, cried: “Our saint is now in Heaven!” May we not
also look up with deepest reverence to her who was glorified while still
upon earth?
The Crown-prince, who was now burning to distinguish himself and to
prove worthy of his beloved, was particularly valiant in the siege of
Landau, at which he had command of the royal guard. However, two months
later, November 27, 1793, he and his brother were recalled from the
field by the King, who had grown tired of the war in consequence of
disagreements among the Allies. In the meantime the Crown-prince’s
palace, in which Frederick William, as Crown-prince and as King, lived
and died, was being newly furnished and made ready to receive the young
pair.