AN ANARCHIST KING
THE next morning, after breakfast, Maximilian and Auguste Bernal were
alone together in the small room which constituted the royal cabinet.
It was furnished plainly, with little of that æsthetic display which
showed itself in the King’s other apartments, and the walls were lined
with volumes of a heavy and forbidding appearance; the presence of
which, Maximilian was accustomed to say, exercised a sobering influence
upon his mind, and disposed him to deal with serious business.
On this occasion he seemed to be suffering under the reaction from last
night’s exciting ordeal, and talked in a wild strain to which even
Auguste, used as he was to all his companion’s varied moods, hardly
knew how to reply.
“Let us look the situation in the face,” Maximilian was saying, with
perfect outward seriousness. “How am I to carry out my promise? Shall I
send for Von Sigismark, and order him to proclaim the Millennium?”
“If you do that I am afraid the Chancellor will hand in his
resignation,” was the answer.
“Really? I never thought of that. Then I could appoint Herr Mark at
once, and leave him to his own devices.”
“And all the other ministers and officials would resign too, and there
would be no one to carry on the government. No, seriously, my dear Max,
whatever you do you must go to work gradually, and, above all, you must
not give the Kaiser an excuse to interfere. I should strongly advise
you to try and win over the Chancellor. He may be an old fool, but he
is faithful, and his name commands confidence. It will be much better
to work through him for a time.”
Maximilian shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
“I dare say you are right. I suppose I must feel my way at first. But I
very much doubt whether we shall get Von Sigismark at his age to take
kindly to any new departure.”
“Well, you can but try. We do not yet know what this Mark, or whatever
his name is, proposes to do. Why not have him in here first, and talk
things over with him?”
“A good idea. Yes, that is the first step.”
The King got up, and walked past his friend to the bell-knob, which he
pushed.
“Ask Herr Mark if he will kindly step this way,” he said to the page
in attendance. “Mind,” he added sharply, as the lad was turning to go,
“convey my message in those exact words.”
“Yes, your Majesty.” And the page withdrew, looking rather surprised.
“I don’t want him to go and say, ‘The King commands your attendance,’”
explained Maximilian, “or very likely a man like that would refuse to
come.”
“It is lucky I am not so thin-skinned,” said Bernal, laughing. “They
always say that to me.”
“Do they? I will put a stop to it,” flashed Maximilian.
“No, no. The less such people understand our friendship, the sweeter it
is to me.” And the musician patted the King affectionately on the arm
as he returned past him to his seat.
Maximilian gave his friend a look soft as a woman’s.
Before they had time to say anything more Johann was announced.
The republican had passed an anxious time since the memorable scene in
the gallery. The circumstances in which he found himself were enough
to bewilder his judgment. A life-long plotter against kings, he was
now installed in a royal palace, under the protection of a king. What
would his comrades in the capital think of this strange ending to his
mission? Would they not condemn him as one who had broken his sacred
oaths, under the influence of royal blandishments? The thought was
a disquieting one, but, on the other hand, he could console himself
by the thought of the triumph which would be his if he succeeded in
really accomplishing some of the great ideals of the Socialists by
means of his royal disciple. To have enlisted a king on the side of
the revolution--was not this a unique achievement; one which might
lead to consequences of untold magnitude? It might be possible in the
course of a comparatively short time, and by perfectly peaceful stages,
to transform Franconia into that model land which has been the dream
of each generation of enthusiasts, though each generation may cherish
different ideas of what the model land should be like. And if Franconia
led the way successfully, who could doubt that the rest of Europe would
quickly follow? Johann was like most of his fellows in assuming that
men were reasoning beings. Once prove to them clearly what their true
interests were, and he believed they would surely act on the knowledge.
Of the power of the passions on human conduct he made no account. That
the vast bulk of mankind cared far more for gratifying the craving
or antipathy of the moment than for their rational welfare, he was
sublimely unconscious. Of such stuff are apostles made.
He entered the King’s presence feeling slightly uneasy as to his
reception under their new relations, and troubled also by his anxiety
to avoid playing the courtier, while yet showing enough civility to
secure the goodwill of his convert.
Maximilian greeted him cordially, but without rising, and invited him
to a seat between the musician and himself.
“This is my friend, Herr Bernal,” he said, as Johann stiffly took the
seat offered to him. “He is not a politician, as I dare say you know,
but we can reckon on his goodwill.”
Johann bowed constrainedly.
“I have often heard your name, sir, and I have heard one or two of your
operas, though music is not much in my line.”
Bernal could not resist a satirical smile at his friend.
“That is your misfortune, Herr Mark. Have you ever read the English
poet Shakespeare?”
“I have read him in the translation.”
“Ah, but the poetry is much better in the original.” And glancing at
Maximilian, he quoted in English--
“The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
Let no such man be trusted.”
The King could not restrain a smile; but he saw that the republican was
annoyed, and hastened to change the subject.
“I want to lose no time, as you see, in acting on my promise,” he said,
addressing Johann. “You convinced me yesterday that I was a bad king;
now I want you to tell me how to become a better one.”
Johann had been rubbed the wrong way by Bernal’s ill-disguised sarcasm.
He replied ungraciously--
“If you are in earnest, sir, and really wish me to explain my ideas,
I shall be very glad to do so. But you must allow me to speak to you
quite plainly.”
“That is exactly what I wish. I intend to send for the Count von
Sigismark presently, to take him into consultation; but, before
he comes, I thought it would be better for us to have a little
discussion, so that we may see our way more clearly.”
“Certainly,” said Johann, brightening up.
“No doubt you have some proposals which could be taken in hand at once,
if we can get the Chancellor to agree with them.”
“Yes. There are many things which could be done. The only difficulty
is to decide where to begin. The ideal at which we aim, as I dare say
you know, is the abolition of all government, except for purposes
of organisation, and the transformation of society into a vast
co-operative machine for the production and equal distribution of
wealth amongst all its members. We aim at doing away with artificial
mediums of exchange, such as money, and thus preventing the
accumulation of wealth in the hands of a few individuals; we mean to
replace the present costly system of litigation by a simple and speedy
method of arbitration; and to render military armaments unnecessary,
by establishing a court for the settlement of international disputes,
pending the consolidation of all nations into one united family. Those
are a few of our main principles.”
“You will have to leave the armament question alone for the present, or
there will be the Kaiser to be reckoned with,” remarked Bernal, dryly.
“I expect the Kaiser himself will be coming here before long,” observed
Maximilian, “and then I will get him to give you an interview, and you
can try and convert him.”
“Only take my advice,” added the musician, “and don’t try to convert
him with a pistol, because he is a rather good missionary in that line
himself.”
Johann frowned, and the King cast a reproving look at his friend.
“Now, Auguste, we shall have enough opposition as it is, without your
discouragement.” And he turned once more to Johann.
“Of course, to me, all these things you describe seem a long way off.
Whether we shall ever get to them I cannot pretend to say. But, in
the mean time, it must be possible to take some steps in the right
direction. You spoke yesterday of various things, some of which seemed
to be feasible enough. Hospitals, for instance, and public works.”
The Socialist’s face fell. It was a great descent to these petty
reforms from the high ideals which he had just been sketching out.
“True, your Majesty.” The title fell from him unconsciously, and only
Bernal noticed that it had been used. “Of course, a great deal of
good might be done in that way at once. But surely it is hardly worth
while to waste time over that, when you might be beginning the greater
work. Why not commence with some told step which would rally round you
all the friends of progress, and convince the world that you were in
earnest?”
“What kind of step do you mean?”
Johann hesitated. Those among whom he moved were more accustomed to
dealing in general programmes than to considering the practical method
of carrying them out.
“Suppose you commenced by nationalising the land and the means of
production,” he suggested, after a minute’s consideration. “That
would be a great step gained. Then we could proceed to re-arrange the
conditions of labour, by shortening the hours of toil, and equalising
the wages for mental and manual work.”
Maximilian was a little puzzled.
“I am afraid I hardly know enough about these things to discuss them
with you. I think perhaps we had better send for the Chancellor at
once, and you can explain your proposals to him.”
Bernal got up and rang the bell without waiting for more. Inwardly he
was impatient to see the Socialist and the Prime Minister confronting
each other.
“Tell the Count von Sigismark that I desire his attendance,” said the
King, as soon as his page appeared.
While they were waiting for the Count, he returned to what he had been
saying.
“You have no doubt thought out these vast changes until they appear
easy and natural to you; but I have given such little attention to
political affairs, that I feel quite in the dark as to how we ought to
proceed. The Chancellor understands the practical side of government,
and you and he may be able to work out some definite scheme.”
“Of course you may find the Count a little prejudiced at first,” threw
in Bernal “You must remember that he is elderly, and his training may
have narrowed his mind.”
Johann looked at him, uncertain whether to reply angrily, or to pass
over his words as unworthy of notice. Before he could come to a
decision Von Sigismark entered the cabinet.
“Good morning, Count,” said the King, in his most friendly manner. “Be
good enough to sit down. I want your assistance.”
The Chancellor greeted the King respectfully, and obeyed, casting a
severe look at the republican, and a not very friendly one at Bernal.
Maximilian at once broached the subject.
“They tell me I govern my kingdom badly,” he said; “I have made up my
mind to reform. The Herr Mark, whom you see here, has devoted himself
to these subjects, and he has been good enough to promise me his
assistance. I want you to hear some of his ideas, in order that you may
consider the best way of carrying them out.”
The Chancellor frowned sullenly as he answered--
“I am ready to hear anything which your Majesty orders me to listen to.”
This did not sound promising, and the King bit his lip as he turned to
Johann.
“Tell the Count von Sigismark what you propose,” he said briefly.
The republican fidgeted uneasily before he began, and made fruitless
attempts to catch the eye of the Minister, which travelled alternately
between his master’s countenance and the ceiling of the room.
“I have been explaining to the King some of the ideas which are held by
men of enlightened views--that is to say, by friends of progress--with
regard to the reformation of society.” Thus far he had tried to address
the Chancellor direct, but he now gave it up as a bad job, and turned
towards Maximilian, who encouraged him by a nod to go on. “His Majesty
wished me to begin by suggesting a simple practical step which would be
easy to carry out, before realising what may be called our main object,
namely, the collective production and distribution of wealth.”
He paused. The Chancellor’s features were set in stony impassiveness.
To all appearance he was unconscious that anything was being said.
“That is right. Go on, Herr Mark,” threw in the King, coming to the
rescue.
“The reform that occurred to me was the nationalisation of the land
and its adjuncts. That would mean taking all the soil of the country,
together with the buildings, railways, mines, machinery, and other
means of wealth-production into the hands of the government. We should
then be able to alter the conditions of labour, and after securing to
all the workers a fair remuneration according to the value of their
work, and equalising and reducing the hours of toil, the surplus would
pass into the coffers of the State, and we could use it in public
works, and in bestowing pensions on the aged and infirm. Of course,
this would only be the preliminary stage. We hope ultimately to
dispense entirely with money as an exchange medium, and replace it by
State coupons representing so much labour. But before doing that we
shall have to absorb the whole machinery of distribution, so that the
State will be the sole possessor of wealth.”
Carried away by his theme, the Socialist had gone on further than he
intended. Pulling himself up with difficulty, he glanced once more at
the forbidding face of the Count von Sigismark, only to see its former
impassiveness replaced by an expression of mingled horror and contempt.
“Well,” said Maximilian to the Minister, “you have heard Herr Mark’s
programme. What do you say to it?”
Von Sigismark withdrew his eyes from the ceiling.
“Do I understand that your Majesty really entertains these monstrous
proposals seriously?”
“Certainly I do. And I shall be obliged if you will express your
opinion of them in milder language.”
“I beg your Majesty’s pardon. I am an old servant of the Crown--I have
served your Majesty faithfully for ten years, and his Majesty the late
king for twenty-five years before that--and I have never before been
asked to listen to such suggestions as I have just heard. I implore
your Majesty to dismiss these pernicious ideas at once. I can remember
the time when the papers which published such things would have been
suppressed, and the men who preached them imprisoned. I am getting an
old man, and I take the liberty of speaking plainly. This gentleman is
proposing a revolution, nothing more nor less.”
Maximilian grew a little pale, and sat more upright in his chair.
“I regret, Count, that you should think it your duty to address
such remonstrances to me, though I give you credit for your loyal
intentions. But you have heard what I said. Herr Mark has made a
definite suggestion, what he calls nationalising the land. I do not at
present understand the best means to put that suggestion into effect. I
have sent for you to ask you if you do. Be good enough to answer me.”
The Count’s expression changed from anger to alarm, and from alarm
back to indignation, as he listened to the King’s words. He replied in
subdued tones--
“It is difficult for me to answer your Majesty in any different way.
This is a proposal, as I understand it, to confiscate the greater part
of the wealth of the country. In the first place, the legislature would
never even look at such a measure. In the second, its passing, its mere
introduction even, would be the signal for a revolution. The whole of
the propertied classes, the nobility, the army, the townspeople, all
but the lowest of the populace, would be up in arms. Your Majesty’s
government could not last another day. Your throne would not be safe.
I tremble to think what might happen. I dare not even hint at the
possible consequences to your Majesty.”
The King grew paler yet.
“In other words, you refuse to assist me?”
“Your Majesty, as I have already said, I am getting an old man, and
I have served the Crown of Franconia for thirty-five years. I begin
to fear that I can do so no longer. I must humbly beg your Majesty to
permit me to send in my resignation.”
So saying, he rose to his feet. The King seemed about to burst out in
violence; but, catching a warning glance from Bernal, he restrained
himself by an effort, and answered in mild tones--
“No, Von Sigismark, we must not part like this. No doubt you have
been taken by surprise, possibly I ought to have prepared you more
gradually. At present you have not had time to consider things calmly.
Do not speak any more of resignation, but retire now, and let us renew
our conversation on these proposals at some future time.”
“As your Majesty pleases,” murmured the old man. And he walked out of
the room with a troubled look.
The troubled look did not leave his face as he hastened with uneven
steps down the royal corridor, and out into the gallery where the
strange scene of the day before had taken place. In the gallery he
encountered the Count von Stahlen with his inseparable companion.
The Chancellor gave them a sharp nod and was going past, but the wit
stopped in front of him.
“Ha! Good morning, Chancellor!” he exclaimed. “I hope nothing has
occurred to put you out. They say the King has turned Anarchist.”
Von Sigismark darted an angry frown at the jester, and hurried away,
his ears tingling with the mocking laughter of the faithful Von
Hardenburg.
Maximilian sat in silence after the Chancellor’s departure, staring
moodily before him, while Johann anxiously watched his face.
Bernal was the first to speak.
“You will have to get the old Count alone and talk with him, if you
want to get him to assist you.”
Maximilian rose from his seat and approached Johann.
“You see, Herr Mark, the position I am in. After what has passed this
morning you will be able to understand how little power is really
enjoyed by the most absolute monarchs. In my whole kingdom I do not
know of one man whom I can rely on to carry out my wishes. Realise the
truth: society, as we see it, is merely an equilibrium of forces; it
can only be disturbed by force, and it is as difficult and as dangerous
for a king to commence a revolution as for any private man.”
He moved to the window of the room, overlooking a corner of the royal
park, and stood gazing out.
Johann rose to his feet, looking much disturbed.
“I can appreciate the difficulties of your position, sir,” he observed
respectfully, “and I quite see that it is hopeless to attempt to do
anything with the Count von Sigismark. But why should we be in his
hands? Surely it is possible to find some other Minister more in
sympathy with progressive ideas? You are the King of Franconia, and if
these people find out that you mean to go forward there will soon be
plenty of them to rally round you. Do not be discouraged because one
old man is jealous at seeing his authority weakened.”
The King listened, but shook his head, and replied without turning
round--
“It is because I feel that Von Sigismark is a type of all the others
that I am discouraged. Depend upon it they will all have the same tale.
And how can I fight against them? As you heard me say just now, I am
ignorant of these things; I have never paid any attention to State
affairs. My people do not know me, they never see or hear of me; I am
a stranger in my own capital. What chance have I against my Ministers,
who have the whole affairs of the kingdom in their hands? The only men
who wield power in Europe to-day are the specialists, and I am not a
specialist in government.”
“Then become one, sir. Assert your rightful place in the government,
compel these men to lay the business of their departments before you;
begin gradually by making little changes here and there, and when
you have an opportunity, dismiss one of them as a warning to the
rest. Start a few of those minor reforms of which we were speaking
before, and become popular with the nation. Take up your residence in
Mannhausen, and go about among the people and acquire their confidence.
In a short time you will be stronger than any of your Ministers, and
you will be in a position to dispense with their services altogether
if they refuse to carry out your policy. Oh, sir, think what a sublime
part you might play. Think of the grand task of inaugurating the
greatest revolution, and the last, in the history of mankind! What are
all the achievements of all the monarchs who ever lived compared with
this? The names of Napoleon and Charlemagne and Cæsar would sink into
insignificance beside yours. Even Mahomet, even Buddha, even Christ,
did not achieve the emancipation of their species.”
He stopped abruptly, overcome by his emotion, and the King, bowing his
head till his forehead rested on the window-pane, made no reply.
Presently the musician said quietly--
“It seems to me that I ought to leave off writing operas. This is a
bolder conception than any I have ever dared to use.”
Johann gave him an irritated look. There was something in the other’s
easy nature which jarred upon his own rigid disposition.
“Well, my friend,” said the King at length, looking round, “I am not
going to give up. I will try and keep my promises to you yet. But I
wish, for your sake, that you had got a better ally. I am afraid I am
the wrong man for work like this. You are trying to pierce an armour
plate with an ivory needle.”
He remained silent for a short time, and then added, in a more cheerful
tone of voice--
“There is another subject about which I wish to speak to you--your
cousin Dorothea. You said you were at the cottage yesterday. Did you
say anything to her about me?”
Johann hung his head.
“I saw you leaving,” he answered, “and, finding that she did not know
who you were, I told her. I am afraid I expressed myself rather harshly
about you. I judged of course merely by appearances.”
Maximilian sighed.
“I do not in the least blame you. No doubt you took the natural view.
What I am sorry for is that the old pleasant state of things has been
destroyed, and I shall never be able to go there again on the former
footing. But perhaps it is as well, it was bound to have come before
long.”
“The moment I see Dorothea, I shall take care to tell her that I
misjudged your Majesty.”
“Thank you, that is kind of you. Now that she knows who I am, I
hardly know how she will feel to me. You will respect my confidence
when I tell you that, if I were satisfied that Dorothea loved me as
I love her, I believe I should have sufficient courage to make her
Queen of Franconia in spite of a thousand Von Sigismarks. But I dread
inexpressibly the idea of forcing her inclinations in any way. Will
you act as my ambassador? Will you use your freedom as a relation to
ascertain as well as you can what her feelings really are? And try, if
you can, to inspire her with confidence in me. Tell her that a king is
not such a very dreadful personage after all.”
“I will, sir; I will go and see her at once, and I hope I shall bring
you good news.”
He left the cabinet; and as he did so Bernal got up and came across to
the window where the King was standing.
“Well, Max, after this you will believe me when I say that I do not
envy you the position of King of Franconia.”
Maximilian sighed, and turned his eyes once more out on to the park.
“What can I do? Men are not like the characters in your operas. I
cannot control their actions, and mould their characters to suit the
parts I want them to play.”
“And why should you? Do not take this man Mark too seriously. You
and I have the character of idealists and dreamers, but we are sober
matter-of-fact persons compared with him. I grant you his ideas are
noble, but they are impossible. Trust me, after a few more interviews
such as we have had to-day, he will begin to see the hopelessness of
his wild schemes. I heard him call you ‘your Majesty’ twice. Build him
a hospital in Mannhausen, and set him up as director; that will give
him something to occupy his mind.”
“Ah, but that would not relieve me. How can I help feeling the truth
there is in his words, in what he said to me yesterday? After all, he
is right; I am the King, and I cannot get rid of my responsibility. I
wish I could. If I could help matters by abdicating, I think I should
do it. But I am afraid poor Ernest would not be much of an improvement.”
“Don’t think of that. After all, they cannot say that you are a bad
king. Let these revolutionists fight their own battle, if they have
the courage of their convictions. You can always look on and see fair
play, and if they get put into prison you can let them out again. Why
should you be expected to take all the risk, and carry out the work
single-handed? Come, you must not let your mind dwell so much on this
business. We have managed to get along together pretty well before this
cropped up, and why should you let your whole life be upset by this
fellow’s exhortations?”
Maximilian laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Do not think that I mean to let anything of this sort interfere with
our friendship, Auguste. Nothing can come between you and me--you
know me too well to think that. But I passed through an experience
yesterday, and it has left its mark. When that man stood there, with
his pistol covering me, and spoke to me as he did, I felt that I was
listening to a voice which I had been trying to shut out all my life,
and which at last had pierced its way into my selfish isolation. It was
the voice of humanity, the voice of duty. Auguste, he was right. My
people have a right to demand that I shall govern them like a king, or
give up my crown. What have I ever done for Franconia? What return have
I ever made to the millions who work and toil and serve me, and supply
me with the sums I have lavished on my own pleasures? This talk of
revolution may be idle; I fear it is. I may not be able to reorganise
society, to divide the wealth of the few among the many, to change the
conditions of labour, to alter the great channels in which human life
has run for thousands upon thousands of years. But surely I could do
something, Auguste; something not quite unworthy of my trust; something
that would better the lot of these millions; something to lighten their
burdens and to make their lives less like the brutes’; something that
would make them look up to me and bless me, and would make me feel that
my life had not been a mere waste of existence, like a river running
through the desert and losing itself miserably in the barren sands.”
Auguste was deeply moved.
“My friend, you are a better man than I am. You are worthier of your
crown than you think.”
The words had hardly left his lips when he saw a sharp took of mingled
pain and dread start on the King’s face. He drew back hastily from the
window-pane, and turned his eyes into the room.
“What is it?” questioned Auguste, peering out in the direction in which
his friend had been looking.
He saw nothing, except the figure of a tall, spare man, clad in the
grave costume of the nineteenth century. His long frock coat was
buttoned closely round his figure, and he held his hands behind his
back, and stooped slightly as he walked towards the palace with slow,
deliberate steps.
“Who is that man? Do you know him?”
And the King answered beneath his breath--
“Yes; it is the Court physician, Doctor Krauss.”