A few days after this audience I received an invitation to dine with the King at Potsdam, and Humboldt wrote to me that he would take me in his carriage.
But a curious intermezzo happened. While I was quietly sitting in my room with my mother, a young lieutenant of police entered, and began to ask a number of extremely silly questions—why I had come to Berlin, when I meant to return to England, what had kept me so long at Berlin, etc. After I had fully explained to him that I was collating Sanskrit MSS. at the Royal Library, he became more peremptory, and informed me that the police authorities thought that a fortnight must be amply sufficient for that purpose (how I wished that it had been so), and that they requested me to leave Berlin in twenty-four hours. I produced my passport, perfectly en règle; I explained that I wanted but another week to finish my work. It was all of no avail, I was told that I must leave in twenty-four hours. I then collected my thoughts, and said very quietly to the young lieutenant, “Please to tell the police authorities that I shall, of course, obey orders, and leave Berlin at once, but that I must request them to inform His Majesty the King that I shall not be able to dine with him to-night at Potsdam.” The poor young man thought I was laughing at him, but when he saw that I was in earnest he looked thunderstruck, bowed, and went away. All this seems now almost incredible even to myself while I am writing it down, but so it was. Nor was the explanation far to seek. One of my friends, with whom I had been almost every day, was Dr. Goldstücker, a young Sanskrit scholar, who had been mixed up with political intrigues, and had long been under strict surveillance. I was evidently looked upon as an emissary from England, then considered the focus of all political conspiracies; possibly my name had been found in the Black Book as a dangerous man, who, when he was about eighteen, had belonged to a secret society, and had sung Arndt’s song, “Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland,” before Bismarck sang it in his own way. It was not long, however, before another police official appeared, an elderly gentleman of very pleasant manners, who explained to me how sorry he was that the young lieutenant of police should have made so foolish a mistake. He begged me entirely to forget what had happened, as it would seriously injure the young lieutenant’s prospects if I lodged a complaint against him. I promised to forget, and, at all events, not to refer to what had happened in the Royal presence.
Humboldt and I drove to Potsdam, and I had a most delightful dinner and evening party. The King was extremely gracious, full of animated conversation, and evidently in the best of humours. While the Queen was speaking to me, he walked up to us, bowed to the Queen, and said to her, not to me, “S’il vous plait, monsieur.” With this sally he took her arm and walked into the dining-room. We followed and sat down, and during the whole dinner the King carried on a conversation in a voice so loud that no one else ventured to speak. I watched the King, and saw how his face became more and more flushed, while he hardly touched a drop of wine during the whole of dinner.
After dinner we all stood, and the King walked about from one to the other.
Humboldt, who was at that time an old man, about eighty, stood erect for several hours like all the rest. When we drove home it was very late, and I could not help remarking on the great sacrifice he was making of his valuable time in attending these court functions.
“Well,” he said, “the Hohenzollern have been very kind to me, and I know they like to show this old piece of furniture of theirs. So I go whenever they want me.” He went on to say how busy he was with his “Kosmos,” and how he could no longer work so many hours as in former years. “As I get old,” he said, “I want more sleep, four hours at least. When I was young,” he continued, “two hours of sleep were quite enough for me.” I ventured to express my doubts, apologising for differing from him on any physiological fact. “It is quite a mistake,” he said, “though it is very widely spread, that we want seven or eight hours of sleep. When I was your age, I simply lay down on the sofa, turned down my lamp, and after two hours’ sleep I was as fresh as ever.”
“Then,” I said, “your Excellency’s life has been double the life of other people, and this accounts for the immense amount of work you have been able to achieve.” Humboldt was never married and, I was told, had never been in love. But I did not tell him what was in my mind, that under such circumstances his life had really been four times that of ordinary mortals.
“Yes,” he said, “I have had a long span of life to work, but I have also been very much helped by my friends and colleagues. I know,” he continued, “I have been abused for not building my own stoves for making chemical experiments; but a general, in order to make great conquests, must have colonels, captains, lieutenants, and even privates under him.” And those who served under him and assisted him had certainly no cause to regret it. He helped them whenever he could, and his influence at that time was very great. To be mentioned in a note in his “Kosmos” was for a scholar what it was for a Greek city to be mentioned in the catalogue of ships in the “Iliad.” I could not resist telling him in strict confidence my little adventure with the police lieutenant, and he was highly amused. I hope he did not tell the King; anyhow, no names were mentioned and the poor lieutenant of police, who, of course, had only done what he was told, may, long ago I hope, have become a president of police, or some “grosses Thier.” When I left Humboldt I felt I should not see him again, and the old man was moved as much as I was in saying good-bye. These old heroes had very large and tender hearts. After all, I was only one out of hundreds of young men in whom he took an interest, and I happen to know that his interest was not only in words, but in deeds also. He was by no means what we should call a rich man, but I know that he sent young Brugsch, afterwards the great Egyptian scholar, Brugsch Pasha, a handsome sum of money to enable him to finish his studies at the University of Berlin, though no one at the time heard anything about it.
I did not see Humboldt again, nor Frederick William IV. Long before this time it had become clear that King William IV. was not what he imagined himself to be—the congruence of all the incongruent elements then fermenting in Prussia and Germany at large. There can be little doubt that towards the end of his life his mind, or rather his judgment, had given way. His mind, I believe, remained lively to the very end; but, in a State like Prussia, the Government without a clear-sighted King is like a runaway engine without its driver. It may keep to the rails for a time, but there is sure to be a smash at the end. The King had parted with one friend after another. His own brother, the Prince of Prussia, afterwards the first German Emperor, fell into disgrace, and had in the end to leave the country and take refuge in England. The name by which he was known in the family was not flattering. He was a soldier, clear-headed and straightforward. His whole heart was in the army, and when he afterwards came to the throne, he wisely left everything else to his responsible ministers, after he had once learnt to trust them. The army was the pride of his life, and to see that army ordered out of Berlin, and not allowed to restore order in the streets of the capital, had nearly broken his heart. He was intensely unpopular in 1848. His own palace was taken possession of, and, in order to preserve it from pillage, a large inscription was put on the walls, “National Property.” I was not in Germany that year, but I heard much from my friends there—v. Schlœzer, Ernst Curtius, and others—all personal friends of the Prince and Princess of Prussia. The Prince was not even allowed to command his own, the Prussian army, in the Schleswig-Holstein war, then just beginning; and the following letter, written in London, and addressed to one of his comrades, shows how deeply he felt it:—
Mit welchen Gefühlen habe ich gestern Euren Sieg bei Schleswig vernommen!!! Gott sei Dank dass unser alter Waffenruhm auch gegen einen ehrlichen Feind sich bewährt hat! Sage doch Deinen Untergebenen, wie glücklich ich wäre über diese Siegesnachricht: wie der Geist, der Euch zum Siege führte, der alte preussische war, der vor nichts zurückschreckt. Wie beneide ich Dir das Glück, diese Lorbeeren geerntet zu haben. Du weisst, wie nahe es daran war, dass ich sie mit Dir hätte theilen können. Wie wären dabei alle meine Wünsche in Erfüllung gegangen: Truppen meiner beiden lieben Corps geführt zu haben, im Ernst - Kampfe!—Es sollte nicht sein!—Aber ich kann es nicht verschmerzen, da die Möglichkeit vorhanden war! Nun, Gott wird es doch wohl noch einst so fügen, dem wir ja Alles anheim stellen müssen. Wer kann und muss es wohl mit mehr Resignation als ich! Er prüft mich schwer, aber mit einem reinen Gewissen erwarte ich den Tag der Wahrheit, damit ich dem neuen Preussen meine Kräfte widmen kann, wie dem alten, wenngleich das Herz trauern muss, über den Fall des alten Preussen, des Selbständigen. Lebe wohl! Gott schütze Dich ferner und erhalte Dich den Deinen, die sehr besorgt sein müssen. Ich kenne die Verluste noch nicht, mir bangt etwas vor ihnen.