On the way, one morning a peasant and his wife presented themselves before the royal pair. She brought the Queen several pounds of fresh butter wrapped in cabbage-leaves. She thought, she said, that supplies might be rather low, and would the Queen accept a few pieces of perfectly fresh snow butter from a poor peasant. Louise took the gift with hearty thanks.
But the King interrupted with: “Aha! I see you have brought me the cheese.”
But the peasant answered: “No! we Mennonites have learned that Your Majesty’s war-chest has a hole in it, and you must have lost your small change. So we have been looking into our savings-boxes and each has contributed to a present for our poor, gracious King.”
“No, no, not poor,” cried the King; “not so long as I have such subjects.”
Greatly to his astonishment he saw the peasant pour out two thousand bright gold pieces. He accepted them gratefully, and afterwards, when the peasant was in need, he paid them all back again with interest.
In Koenigsberg Louise lived in a modest dwelling and devoted herself to charity. She cared for the wounded and assisted the destitute. She visited no theatres, concerts, or balls, but assiduously attended the church of the gifted preacher, the evangelical Bishop Borowsky. The letters which she wrote at the time to her father, Duke of Mecklenburg, show us her inmost heart. One of them, written in the Spring of 1807, reads:
“Dear Father:
“The departure of General Blücher gives me a safe opportunity of writing frankly to you. Ah! how long I have been deprived of that pleasure and how much I have to say to you! Until the third week of my illness, each day was marked by a fresh misfortune. The despatch of the excellent Blücher to Pomerania, the patriotism which animates every one,—of which the reserve battalions, the first that have been organized in months, are a proof,—all this gives me fresh hope. Some of these reserves are moving to the front, and some have already fought well. Yes, dear father, I am convinced that all will yet be well, and that we shall meet happily once more.
“The siege of Danzig is progressing satisfactorily; the inhabitants make the soldiers’ burden easier by providing them with meat and wine in abundance. They will not hear of giving up. They would rather be buried in the ruins of their city than turn traitors to the King. Kolberg and Graudenz are of the same mind. Had it only been thus with all the fortresses!—But enough of past evils. Let us turn our eyes to God, to Him who guides our destinies, who never forsakes us when we do not forsake Him!
“The King is with the Czar and the army. He will remain there as long as the Czar does. This splendid unanimity, founded on unshakable steadfastness in misfortune, gives the best promise of endurance. Surely, by perseverance we must conquer sooner or later; of that I am firmly convinced.”
It proved to be so, but this long-deferred hope was not to be realized during Louise’s lifetime and not until the Prussian people had made ample penance. On May 24 Danzig was taken by the French after a brave defence under General Kalkreuth. After several engagements Napoleon was victorious over Prussians and Russians in the battle of Friedland, in consequence of which, Koenigsberg and the country as far as the Niemen was occupied by him. Louise, then in Memel, writes to her father, June 17:
“With profound emotion and tears of grateful tenderness I read your letter of April last. How can I thank you, best and tenderest of fathers, for the many proofs of your love, your favor, and indescribable goodness! What a comfort this is in my trouble, and what a support! When one is so loved, one cannot be wholly unhappy.
“Another terrible disaster has now overtaken us, and we are on the point of leaving the kingdom. Imagine what my feelings are! But I pray you, do not mistake your daughter. Do not think that my head is bowed in cowardice. I am upheld by two thoughts. The first is that we are not the victims of blind chance, but that we are in God’s hands, and that He is directing us; the second, that we fall with honor. The King has given proof to the world that he desires honor, not disgrace. Prussia would not bear the chains of slavery willingly. The King could not have acted otherwise in a single point without being untrue to himself and a traitor to his people. What a solace this is, no one who has not a true feeling of honor can imagine. But to the point.
“In consequence of the unfortunate battle of Friedland, Koenigsberg fell into French hands. We are pressed by the enemy, and if the danger becomes greater, I shall be obliged to leave Memel with my children. The King will again join the Czar. As soon as the danger becomes imminent I shall go to Riga. God help me at the moment that I have to abandon my country. That will require courage, but I shall look upward, from whence come all good and evil; and my firm belief is, that He will not send more than we are able to bear.
“Once more, dear father, I repeat, we go down to defeat in honor, respected by the nations; and we shall always retain friends, because we have deserved them. I cannot tell you how comforting this thought is. I bear all this with a quietness and composure that can only come from a clear conscience and pure faith. Therefore be assured, dear father, that we can never be wholly unhappy and that many who are clothed with power and good fortune are not so content as we. God gives peace to the just, and we may always have reason for joy.
“Let me assure you for your comfort, that nothing will be done by us that is not consistent with strictest honor or with our actions in the past. Rest assured of this, and I know it will be a comfort to you, as to all who belong to me. I am always your faithful, obedient, loving daughter and—thank God that I can say it as your favor assures me of it—your affectionate friend.
“Louise”
On June 24 she writes again: