Part 12 (1/2)

”That's love,” said the Baron, shooting significant glances at me.

”Henry _Quatre_ did the same to Marie de Medici--an Italian like you, Imperial Highness.”

Anna didn't know what to make of it, and as for me, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

The impudent fellow seems to have misinterpreted our silence, for, brazen like the _Duc de_ Richelieu, who boasted of sleeping in the beds of queens, he continued:

”Catharine the Great, too, knew what love was. One fine afternoon when she wasn't a day older than you, Imperial Highness, she looked out of the window of her room at Castle Peterhof. In the garden below a sentinel, very handsome, very Herculean, very brave, was pacing up and down. Catharine, then Imperial Grand-d.u.c.h.ess and only just married, made a sign to the soldier. The giant, abandoning his rifle, jumped below the window and Catharine jumped onto his shoulders from the second story.

”That's real love,” concluded the Baron.

Anna got frightened and fled down the avenue, but I had the weakness to remain at the Baron's side until we reached the palace.

Alas, Frederick Augustus wasn't as good a talker as the Baron.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FREDERICK AUGUSTUS, REIGNING KING OF SAXONY

Louise's Ex-Husband]

CHAPTER X

MY POPULARITY RENDERS GEORGE DYSPEPTIC

The Cudgel-Majesty--Prince George's intrigues--No four-horse coach for Princess--Popular demonstration in my favor--”All-highest”

displeasure.

DRESDEN, _September 1, 1893_.

I haven't lived up to my promise to keep a daily record, or even a weekly one. Those tales of my girlhood days disgusted me with diary keeping as far as my early experiences at home went and I reflected that many of the subsequent happenings in my life might be safer in the shrine of memory, than spread over the pages of a blank-book, even though no one sees it and I carry its golden key on a chain around my neck.

We are back in the capital now and things are moving. Great doings had been planned for our reception, for the re-entry of the little prince, my baby, and his mother who is expected to give another child to Saxony at the end of the year. Two babies in one year! I am going to beat the German Empress, and if Wilhelm doesn't send me a medal I will cut him dead the next time I see him!

Well, about that reception. Flags, triumphal arches, speeches by the burgo-master, white-robed virgins at the station and all that sort of thing!

But Father-in-law George said ”no.” Anything that gives joy to others goes against his royal grain, gives him politico-economic dyspepsia. He doesn't want me to be popular,--neither me, nor Frederick Augustus, nor the baby.

George will be the next king, and if the Dresdeners or the Saxons want to ”_Hoch the King_,” they must ”_Hoch_” George. They MUST. ”It's their d.a.m.ned duty,” says George the Pious, who never blasphemes on his own account, but allows himself some license concerning his subjects. His att.i.tude recalls the story told of Frederick William the First of Prussia, whose appearance on the streets of Berlin used to cause pa.s.sers-by to run to save their back. Upon one occasion His Majesty caught one of these fugitives, and whacking him over the head with his Spanish reed, cried angrily: ”What do you want to run away from me for?”

”Because I'm afraid of your Royal Majesty,” stuttered the poor devil.

”Afraid?” thundered Frederick William, giving the fellow another whack with his cane. ”Afraid?”--the beating continuing--”when I, your King, commanded you to love me. Love me, you miserable coward, love G.o.d's Anointed.” And the loving Majesty broke his cane on the unloving subject's back.

Two days before our arrival Prince George sent his adjutant, Baron de Metsch-Reichenbeck, to the Mayor of Dresden, stopping all reception arrangements contemplated.

To have children was a mere picnic to Her Imperial Highness, lied George's messenger,--if the physicians hadn't used chloroform I would have perished with the torture. Ovations intended as a sort of reward or recognition of my services to the country, then, would be entirely out of place, and must not be thought of.

The munic.i.p.ality thereupon officially abandoned preparations. I was a little vexed when I first heard about George's meanness, yet again felt tickled that he went out of his way to intrigue against me, the despised little princess of a House that ceased to reign. And I had an idea that the Dresdeners would give us a good welcome anyhow.