The gist of his long-winded remarks is this: "I am the lord, your master, and I will see to it that you—wife, brother, nephews and nieces—will dance as I whistle.
"For obedience to the King is the highest law," he paraphrases Wilhelm,—"strictest, unconditional obedience" (and he gave me a poisoned look) "and let no one forget it, no one." With that he beat the table with his clenched fist, and the whole assemblage turns an accusing eye on me.
Dresden, April 6, 1897.
They have driven the late Duke of Saxony's wife and children from house and home—put her on the high-road, piling her personal belongings, trunks, wardrobe and knick-knacks outside, too.
She arrived in Dresden and sought refuge with her widowed mother. Her father, a Court-Councillor, dismissed because of the relations between the Duke and his daughter, died of grief and mortification, almost penniless. And the Ducal widow is as poor as the mother—and three children to bring up! Children of the royal blood of Saxony, children sanctioned by the Church of which they prate so much, for there is no doubt that the pair married in secret.
The late Highness kept all his papers in a strong-box, and it's said the King's representative, who searched the safe by Royal orders, found neither acknowledgment of the marriage, nor a last will in favor of the widow and children. Hence, all the Duke's belongings revert to the royal family, and the estate he lived on goes to his next of kin, Johann George.
Johann George, who has more money than he knows what to do with, promptly sent the bailiff after his cousin's wife and children.
"Noblesse oblige,—the way you interpret the old saying, will advance the cause of monarchy immensely," I said to the official heir.
"Is it any business of mine to support my relatives' mistresses?" I saw he was mad clean through.