FORCED TO DO PENANCE LIKE A TRAPPIST MONK
"By the King's orders"—I submit for the sake of my children—Must fast as well as pray—In delicate health, I insist upon returning to Dresden—Bernhardt, to avoid being maltreated by King, threatens him with his sword—The King's awful wrath—Bernhardt prisoner in Nossen—I escape, temporarily, protracted ennui.
Pillnitz, May 28, 1901.
Though I am in delicate health, the King, having recovered from his illness, commanded me to do penance,—almost public penance.
Fast and pray, pray and fast is the order of the day for the next two weeks.
I arise every morning at five. At six a closed carriage takes me to a distant nunnery of the Ursulines, a good hour's travel. I am forced to attend mass, which also lasts an hour. Then a half-hour's sermon, dealing with fire and brimstone, hell and damnation.
When that's over the Mother Superior kindly asks me to her cell and lectures me for an hour on the duties of a wife and mother, and on the terrors that follow in the wake of adultery.
(I wonder where she gets her wisdom. She isn't married, she isn't supposed to have children, and she ought to know that the founder of her religion was most kind to the adulteress.)
Then back to Pillnitz and breakfast, for it's the King's express command that I worship on an empty stomach; some Jesuit told George my sins would never be forgiven unless the torture of the fast was added to that of early rising, travel, prostration before the altar and listening to pious palaver.
I stand it for my children's sake. They will be returned to me after I did penance full score. My only satisfaction: I compel the Tisch to attend me on my trips, and make her sit on the back seat of the carriage. I know this turns her stomach and watch her twitching face with devilish glee.
Dresden, June 15, 1901.
With the authority of the pregnant woman I demanded that I be allowed to return to town.
"If compelled to see Prince George and the rest of my enemies daily, my child will be mal-formed, or I will suffer an avortement," I told the King.
They let me go and I am breathing more freely. I still wear the chain and ball, but they don't cut into my flesh as in Pillnitz.
Yesterday I learned that Bernhardt was in Dresden, and sent for him. He came in company of two army officers who remained in the anteroom.
"I am a prisoner," he said resignedly, "those fellows outside will conduct me to Nossen."
The audience granted him several months ago took place only after my departure from the summer residence, and developed into a fearful scene.
"His Majesty," said Bernhardt, "was in a rage when I entered. 'State what you have to say,' said the King, 'and be brief.'
"'If Your Majesty will graciously permit me to reside in Dresden, I will promise to lead a life in accordance with Your Majesty's intentions and will obey your slightest wish.'
"'What?' cried the King, 'You dare name conditions for your good conduct?'"
Bernhardt denied any intention to impose conditions, but begged to submit to His Majesty that he couldn't exist in those small garrisons. If in Dresden, it would come easier to him to turn over a new leaf.
"Sure, all you young rakes want to live in the capital," sneered the King, "because it's easy in a big town to hide one's delinquencies."
"Your Majesty," cried Bernhardt, "if I ever did a reprehensible thing, it was forced upon me by intolerable conditions."
The King grew white with rage.
"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 button. Marshal Count Vitzthum responded.
"Take him," said the King hoarsely—"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 assured 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 Müller; namely, to go to the theatre when she feels like it.
THE LATE KING GEORGE OF SAXONY
Louise's Father-in-Law