"POOR RELATIONS" IN ROYAL HOUSES
Myself and Frederick Augustus quarrel and pound table—The Countess Cosel's golden vessel—Off to Brighton—Threat of a beating—I provoke shadows of divorce—King threatens force—More defiance on my part—I humble the King and am allowed to invite my brother Leopold.
Villa Loschwitz, September 1, 1894.
Father had to give in. He is the poor relation, and a poor relation in royal circles doesn't amount to more than one among well-to-do merchants and farmers. He has no rights that others need respect and if he shows backbone he is given to understand that the head of the family has other uses for the palace or hunting grounds lent him.
"I would love to have you with me in Salzburg," he wrote, "but, dear child, it's for your best to learn to obey. Do it for your old father's sake."
Still I wouldn't give in at once. "I won't go to Loschwitz," I declared. And gave a dozen reasons besides the paramount one that I wouldn't go, because Prince George wanted me.
"I'm no trunk to be shipped hither and thither at someone's behest," I said.
Frederick Augustus took umbrage at the "someone," which he pronounced lèse majesté, and to emphasise the fact hit the table with a bang, whereupon I pounded the table twice: bang-bang!
It hurt my hand, and didn't do Frederick Augustus any good. Nor was the discussion advanced thereby. For the rest: an exchange of names and epithets that smacked of the kitchen rather than the salon.
"Too bad you exhaust all your energy with me," I said among other things, "while in the royal presence you act the docile lamb's tail."
He began prating about his character as an army officer again, and I reminded him that I wasn't the Countess Cosel.
"Who's that?" asked the big ignoramus.
"Never heard of the lady that refused to accompany Augustus to the Camp of Mühlberg unless he brought her a certain intimate golden vessel costing five thousand Thalers?"
"A loving cup?" asked my husband.
"If you like to call it so."
"But why did you say you are no Cosel?"
"I meant to imply that I am not a prisoner of state and don't want to be treated like one. Hence, since a visit to my parents would greatly embarrass them, I decided to go to Brighton for the season."
"Brighton," he repeated, "and where will you get the spondulicks?"
"I saved up quite a bit of money. Guess I can manage the expense alright."
"Lip-music," cried Frederick Augustus in his polite way. "You have no idea what such a trip costs."
I assured him that I had made every inquiry and was able to meet all expenses. "We will go incog.," I added, "the babies and nurse and Lucretia. The Tisch woman shall have a furlough even before she asks for it."
"Is that so?" Frederick Augustus laughed brutally. "You seem to forget that you are subject to our house laws."
"And you seem to forget that I have a will of my own," I almost shouted.
Frederick Augustus jumped up. "Not another word on the subject," he commanded. "The incident is closed."
It suddenly occurred to me that Prince George had been talking once more to Frederick Augustus about the pugilistic performances of my mother. Perhaps he was trying to pluck up courage to beat me, a diversion not altogether unknown in the House of Saxony, according to the Memoirs of the famous Baron Schweinichen, Court Marshal and Chroniqueur.
His diaries, covering a number of years, have many such entries as this: "His Royal Highness hit the Princess a good one on the 'snout' by way of silencing her tongue." Doubtless George would be delighted to have me "shut up" by some such process, but Frederick Augustus lacks the sand.
When he was gone, I indicted a letter to the King, advising him in oily, malicious, yet eminently respectful language that, not wishing to figure as a prisoner of state, I had decided to spend the rest of the summer abroad with my children. At the same time I intimated that I was well aware of being in disgrace and being regarded with ill favor by the several members of the royal family.
"If it pleases your Majesty," I added, "I will relieve a most unhappy situation by giving back his liberty to Frederick Augustus. I'll promise not to oppose divorce, or allow my family to interfere."
This letter I sent to the King, sealing it with my personal arms, of which there is no duplicate at court. After that I sent three telegrams. One to papa, announcing that I was going to Brighton; another to the Palace Hotel in Brighton; a third to the Minister of Railways, commanding that my saloon carriage be coupled to the Continental express night after next. I knew, of course, that the King would be informed of these messages in a twinkling.
I waited an hour for the Powers to move; as a rule it takes them a week or ten days. Exactly sixty-five minutes after sending my letter to the King, Frederick Augustus rode into the courtyard like a madman. He had been hurriedly summoned from the drill-grounds, I heard afterwards. He dismounted at the stairs leading to the King's apartments. Half an hour later, he slunk into my room, as serious as a corpse. There wasn't a trace of brutality in his voice as he said:
"A fine row you kicked up."
I didn't favor him by questions, but kept looking out of the window. He walked up and down for five or six minutes, boring his eyes into the corners of the room. Suddenly, at a safe distance, he delivered himself of the following:
"His Majesty interdicts your plans in toto. You will be conducted to Loschwitz tonight. Don't put yourself to the humiliation of trying to disobey. You are being watched."
"His Majesty's own words?"
"He refused to see me," answered Frederick Augustus, dejectedly. He acted as if pronouncing his own death warrant. "Baumann told me." (This is the King's Secretary.)
I almost pitied the poor fellow, but I had to hold my own.
"My dear Frederick Augustus," I said, "you can tell Baumann from me that I won't go to Loschwitz tonight; that for the present I intend to stay here and that, if they force me, they'll need plenty of rope, for I will holler and kick and do all I can to attract attention."
Maybe Frederick Augustus wanted to say something in reply, but open his mouth was all he could manage. Seeing him so bamboozled, I continued: "It is decided, then, that I stay, but I give you fair warning that I will skip to England sooner or later. I don't want you to get into trouble, Frederick Augustus, therefore inform Baumann without delay."
Frederick Augustus got blue in the face. He seemed ready to jump on me, crush me between his cuirassier fists. I held up my hand.
"Did Baumann tell you that I offered to accept divorce if it pleases the King?"
Frederick Augustus changed color. White as a ghost, he fixed his eyes upon mine, momentarily, and murmured: "Have we got to that point?"
He ran out of the room and a minute later was tearing up the stairs leading to the King's apartments. Lucretia says he returned within a quarter of an hour and tried my door. But I had locked myself in and refused to open. We didn't meet until dinner. Neither of us ate a bite, or said a word. Baumann was announced with the ice. He was all smiles, all devotion.
"His Majesty will be pleased to see your Imperial Highness in a quarter of an hour," he said sweetly.
Frederick Augustus was a painted sepulchre when I coolly replied: "Pray inform His Majesty that I am not well and about to retire for the night."
At this Baumann looked like a whipped dog. He probably thought it impossible for anyone to refuse to answer the summons of His Majesty. With the most downcast mien in the world, he seemed singularly anxious to render himself ridiculous. "Maybe the Crown Prince will do in my stead," I suggested maliciously.
Baumann grabbed at the straw and withdrew. A little while later a lackey came, summoning Frederick Augustus to Prince George. When he came back, he was all undone.
"Father treated me very well," he said. "He says the King regrets that your uncontrollable temper causes so many misunderstandings, and both His Majesty and father have no objection to your staying in Dresden if you like. Loschwitz was suggested because you and the children seem to need country air.
"As to your proposed visit to England, the King begs you to consider that such a journey at this time is liable to provoke a scandal which would reflect not only on you, on us, but on your poor parents."
The old story of the penurious relations, I thought bitterly, but on the whole I was well pleased. I had beaten and out-generaled them all.
"If Loschwitz isn't meant for punishment, I accept with pleasure," I said. "It's a very pretty place." Poor Frederick Augustus' face lit up. "But there must be an end to the talk about I being in disgrace. If the King is as friendly to me as he makes out, let him come and see me and the babies. As to summonses by Baumann or others, I won't accept them."
"Very well," said Frederick Augustus, and I saw that I had risen mile-high in his estimation, "when will it be your pleasure to leave for Loschwitz?"
"Tonight, if I have permission to invite Leopold for a week or so."
"Are you stark, staring mad?" shouted my husband,—"Impose conditions after the King moderated?"
"Go and tell Baumann I'll have Leopold or all is off," I said.
Next morning: Ceremonial visit from the Queen. The tip of her nose was redder than ever and she seemed prepared to weep at the flicking of an eye-lash. She gave me a list of her troubles, mental, physical, political, matrimonial and otherwise, since the day she was born, but said: "Obedience to my father, the King, and obedience to my husband, the King, has enabled me to weather all storms. You, too, must learn obedience, Louise. It's women's only salvation and especially a princess's."
I answered that I fully recognized my obligations to the King. "I only object to being buffeted around like a piece of furniture."
"I know, I know," said the Queen, "and hope all is arranged satisfactorily. The King will be glad if you invite your parents to Loschwitz."
"I asked permission to invite Leopold."
"But, no doubt, your parents would take more interest in the children than your brother."
"I don't dispute that, Your Majesty. But if my parents joined me at the present time, people might think they came to condole with me or else to scold me. I want Leopold."
The Queen said she wouldn't dare mention Leopold to His Majesty.
"Well, then," I concluded, "I shall stay in Dresden, regarding Baumann's fine promises as mere talk."
The Queen went away with the air of a martyr, but three days later Baumann came and said His Imperial Highness was welcome.
A triumph all along the line. I left Dresden without seeing the King.
Frederick Augustus is at the manœuvres.
The Baroness is acting as my Grand Mistress.
I expect Leopold in a fortnight.