"I know it--I know it well; pray go on."
I plucked up my courage and continued: "My parents died while I was a prisoner. When I was at last discharged, I had lost all taste for a clerical calling. I was down in the village standing by the smithy, saw the blazing fire and watched the heavy hammers, and I yearned for just such hard manual labor. I begged the smith to take me as his apprentice, and he at once handed me a hammer. I was there but a week, when the father of the young man who had died in prison came and took me to his estate."
"And you married his daughter?"
"Yes."
"And does she still live?"
"No; she died, as I am unfortunately forced to believe, through grief on account of the desertion of our youngest son just before the war of 1866."
"I know it, I know it. I hear that your son is serving in the French army in Algiers? I know," he said, interrupting himself when he saw my painful agitation, "what grief this son has caused you. If it were in your power to send him word, he might, if he would deliver himself up of his own will, be received back into the army with some trifling punishment, and might afterward by his bravery distinguish himself, and all would be well again. But, of course, at present, communication is impossible either through diplomatic or private channels."
I was obliged to admit that I did not know of Ernst's whereabouts.
Strange it is how a poet's words will suddenly come to one's aid.
"My son is like a different man,'" said I, with the words taken from the history of my friend; and I was myself astonished by the tone in which I spoke. I had enough self-command to say that our present troubles required that all should be united, and, that we should, therefore, not complicate them by introducing our own personal interests; nor did I conceal the fact that I had lived down my sorrow on account of Ernst, and had almost ceased to be haunted by the thought of him. It pained me, nevertheless, to listen to the well-rounded, sentences in which the Prince praised the Roman virtue that indulged my love of country at the expense of my feelings as a father. He seemed pleased with this conceit of his, and repeated it frequently. I felt quite disenchanted.
Thoughts of Ernst almost made me forget where I was, or what I was saying, until the Prince requested me to resume my story, unless I found it too fatiguing.
I continued:
"When I think of the times before 1830, I see opposed to each other extravagant enthusiasm and impotence, courageous virtue and cowardly vice, chaste and devoted faith in the ideal, and mockery, ridicule, and frivolous disbelief in all that was n.o.ble--the one side cherishing righteousness, the other scoffing at it. In other words, on the one side, Uhland; on the other, Metternich.
"My relations with my family, with the community in which I lived, and even in a wider circle, were happy enough. But the thought of my distracted Fatherland remained, and filled my heart with grief that could not be a.s.suaged. I lived and suffered for the general good, and my a.s.sociates did the like; but the storm-cloud was always impending over us, and we were obliged to learn how to go about our daily work with fresh and cheerful hearts, although danger threatened; to be patient for the sake of the people, and to look into our own hearts for strength.
"The best men of our Fatherland were deeply anxious to be up and doing, but we were condemned to the worst lot of all: a life-long opposition.
"While we were languishing for healthy political action, our minds were filled with a bitter and consuming protest against the miserable condition of our affairs.
"It is hard when one's whole being is in conflict with his surroundings."
I went on to tell him of the great hopes that the spring of 1848 had inspired us with, and that I, too, had had the good fortune to be permitted to a.s.sist in building up the great Fatherland, and to have been in the confidence of the best men of my time. I told him of the sad days when our so-called "Rump Parliament" was dispersed by the soldiers, and also spoke of my son Ludwig.
"I understand that your son has become a man of great ability and force of character, and that he distinguished himself in the war with the slave States?" said the Prince.
I was surprised to find how well he was informed.
And then the Prince added, in an animated voice: "You are an enthusiastic friend of Prussia?"
"I am; for in Prussia I recognize the backbone of our national existence; she is not prepossessing, but steadfast and reliable.
"I lived at the time of the war of liberation; many who were of my age took part in the war that saved us. Our section stood with Napoleon, but Prussia saved Germany. She has dallied a great while before claiming her reward for that service; but at last she receives it."
The Prince arose, and, resting both hands on his writing-table, said, "That is the very reason I sent for you. Both they and we--both high and low--must extinguish the memories of 1866. We have all much to forgive, and much to learn."
And then the Prince asked me whether I believed that the majority of the House of Delegates agreed with us?
I was obliged to express my doubts on that head.
"I have made up my mind, however," exclaimed the Prince, "whether the delegates agree with me, or otherwise. You are an old, tried soldier.
Are you ready to ally yourself with me--no, not with me--with the Fatherland?"
"How?"
"Call it a _coup d'etat_, if you choose--we dare not let names frighten us--these are times in which legal forms must be disregarded. Are you willing to accept the presidency of my cabinet, so that your fair name may lend its l.u.s.tre to my actions? You shall bear testimony to my love of country."
"I am willing, your Highness, to sacrifice the short span of life that is yet left me; but I am not an adept in state affairs."
"That is no matter; others will attend to that. What I require is the moral influence of your presence. Your son-in-law, Colonel Karsten, is willing to accept the portfolio of Secretary of War."
I informed the Prince that I would be obliged to insist on important conditions: not from distrust of him, but of his n.o.ble a.s.sociates who had deserted us in 1848, and had used us liberals as cat's-paws.
I told him that, in my opinion, Germany would either emerge from this war as a great power, or disappear from the roll of nations.
"We hope for the best, and we must conquer, for defeat would be destruction."
As a first condition, I requested the Prince to give me a written a.s.surance that he resigned all privileges which would interfere with German unity.
He smiled. I do not know whether it was in scorn, or whether he had not heard my last words. He rose, placed his hand on my shoulder, and said, "You are a good man."
I, too, was obliged to smile, and answered, "What else should I be, your Highness?"
"Is not what you demand of me equivalent to an abdication?"
"No; it is nothing more than retiring to the position held by the princes before domestic dissensions enabled Louis XIV. to wrest Alsace and Lorraine from the German Empire."
It was with an air of embarra.s.sment that the Prince said:
"Here is my hand. I have a right to do this, and desire to be the first to hail the victorious King of Prussia as Emperor."
The Prince touched a bell, and a lackey entered, whom he told to bid Colonel Karsten come.
My son-in-law Minister of War, and I president of the cabinet! Was it all a dream? My eye fell on the picture of the deceased Princess, and it seemed to resemble Gustava and to smile upon me.
The Colonel entered. He remained standing, in the erect att.i.tude of a soldier.
The Prince informed him, in a few words, that we agreed with each other, and submitted a proclamation with which the Chamber was to be dissolved, in case the majority should decide for neutrality. For the present, this was to be kept a secret.
The Prince then withdrew.
Arm in arm with my son-in-law, I returned to my dwelling.
To think of all that had happened to me during that one day
Could this be myself? I could scarcely collect my senses.