Secret Memoirs: The Story of Louise, Crown Princess Part 43

"No excuses," he thundered. "You are a rip and ugly customer and you will stay in the garrison I designated."

Even before the King had finished, Bernhardt interrupted him with a fierce: "Don't you call me names, Majesty. I won't stand for that."

"Won't stand for anything that I think proper to mete out to you, rascal? I will make you." The King had risen and was about to box Bernhardt's ears.

Bernhardt jumped back two paces and shouted like mad: "Don't you dare touch me. I will defend my honor sword in hand, even if I have to shoot myself on the spot."

For several seconds the King stood speechless, then he reached out his hand and touched an electric b.u.t.ton. Marshal Count Vitzthum responded.

"Take him," said the King hoa.r.s.ely--"he is your prisoner."

Bernhardt drew his sword and threw it at the King's feet. He was conducted to a room, and sentinels were posted outside his door and under his windows. Presently the telephone called together a council of war and it was decided that Bernhardt go to Nossen during the King's pleasure, or rather displeasure.

"The army officers that act as my guards are not allowed to speak to me," said Bernhardt, "and the garrison in Nossen will likewise be muzzled." He laughed as he added: "I suppose I shall have to make friends with the spirits of the great Augustus's mistresses haunting the old burg. They were gay ones! If the King remembered that, he would send me to the Trappists rather than to Nossen."

DRESDEN, _July 1, 1901_.

I never dreamt that science would come to my rescue, but a clever woman has more than one trick up her sleeve. On a visit to a book store I happened to see a new publication on the Hygienics of Pregnancy and had it sent to the palace.

Last night, when nearly dead with _ennui_, I turned over the leaves of the volume and came across an article advising women in my condition to seek plenty of merry company. My mind was made up at once.

First thing in the morning I sent for the Court Physician, and with many a sigh and groan gave him to understand that I feared to have melancholy if I continued the monotonous life I was leading.

I happened to strike one of the doctor's pet theories, and he recited whole pages from the book I had been reading. Then he asked me a hundred questions, and rest a.s.sured that my answers were in accordance with my wishes.

"I will have the honor to report to His Majesty at once," said the Councillor at the end of the examination, "that some diversion is imperative in Your Imperial Highness's case. Would Your Imperial Highness be pleased to visit the theatre or the Opera if the King approves?"

The King did approve, and the Crown Princess of Saxony is once more permitted the privilege of _Frau_ Schmidt and _Frau_ Muller; namely, to go to the theatre when she feels like it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LATE KING GEORGE OF SAXONY

Louise's Father-in-Law]

CHAPTER LV

FRANCIS JOSEPH JOINS MY SAXON ENEMIES

Cuts me dead before whole family--Everybody talks over my head at dinner--I refuse to attend more court festivities--Husband protests because I won't stand for insult from Emperor--I give rein to my contempt for his family--Hypocrites, despoilers, gamblers, religious maniacs, brutes--Benign lords to the people, tyrants at home--I cry for my children like a she-dog whose young were drowned.

DRESDEN, _November 2, 1901_.

Great family concourse to look my new baby over, dear Marie Alix, born at Wachwitz, September 27.

Emperor Francis Joseph was first to arrive, the Majesty who is forever posing as the family's good genius, as upholder of peace and amity among his countless cousins and nieces, and the many uncles and aunts and other relatives of his grand-children.

Behold how he lived up to this reputation!

I had been commanded to attend the reception in the Queen's _salon_, and made my bow to him. He bowed all around, looking at each present, but managed to overlook me.

Then he commenced a long and weary conversation with the Queen, at whose elbow I sat, and when his stock of plat.i.tudes was exhausted, turned to fat Mathilde, congratulating her on the possession of the _Stern Kreuz_ decoration, an Austrian order which I likewise wore at my corsage. It was none other than the late Empress Elizabeth who pinned it on me.

Presently dinner was announced. The Emperor took in Her Majesty, the King, _nolens, volens_, had to conduct me, but gave me neither word nor look. Nor did the others. I couldn't have been more isolated on a desert island, than at this royal board.

They talked and cracked their silly jokes, and paid compliments to each other and were careful not to let their tongues run away with their intriguing minds, but all went above my head. No one spoke to me but the lackeys: "If it please Your Imperial Highness----"

Frederick Augustus tore into my bedroom some little time after I had retired. Picture of the offended gentleman, if you please. I got no more than I deserve, but it "reflected on him, h-i-m, HIM." Though it was a "family dinner," he, the Crown Prince of Saxony, was "publicly"

disgraced. The Emperor had treated the Crown Princess as air. He had not deigned to address a single word to her. The Crown Princess was a trollop in the Imperial eyes--it was enough to drive the Crown Prince to drink.

"Drink yourself to death then," I shrieked.

During the night I speculated what to do: ask a private audience of the Emperor, state my side of the case and beg his forgiveness and protection, beg, especially, for better treatment at his hands?

And if he refused?

Francis Joseph is a good deal of a Jesuit. When he hates, he never lets it come to a break; when he loves, he never attaches himself.

If I stooped to humiliate myself, he might choose to debase me still more. It was entirely probable that he would betray my confidences to the King and Prince George.

I will defy him and--all of them!

"Her Imperial Highness regrets----" my Court Marshal wrote in answer to all invitations or rather "commands" for the next three days. When I refused to partic.i.p.ate in the "grand leave-taking," Frederick Augustus came post-haste to expostulate with me.

"You must. It would be an affront without precedent."

"Take leave of a man who didn't say good-day to me on his arrival, and who probably intends to slight me in similar fas.h.i.+on on going away----"

In lieu of argument the Prince Royal abused me like a pick-pocket; I had waited for it and now I let loose.

"You are like the rest of your family," I shouted: "ignorant, thoughtless, brutal _en venerie_, sanctimonious in dotage. I know few people for whom I have so great a detestation as for the Royal Saxons.

Look at your father, there is no more jesuitical a Jesuit, the inward man as hideous as the outward. He would be an insolent lackey, if he didn't happen to be a prince.

"And Johann George--a shameless inheritance-chaser, despoiler of pupillary funds, gambler at the _bourse_, who whines like a whipped dog when he loses.

"The royal Bernhardt, companion of street-walkers!

"Prince Max, who talks theology, but keeps his eye on Therese.

"Your Queen, a victim of religious madness, your King and his system--organized selfishness. Chicanery for those dependent upon him, ruin for all more gifted than the average Wettiner.

"While living here I have learned to look upon my father's discrowning as a stroke of good luck for, since kings can no longer indulge their brutalities against their subjects, they turned tyrants at home.

"If your father did to the humblest of his subjects what he did to me, he would be chased from home and country. The people, the parliament, his own creatures would rise against him and blot his name from the royal roster.