“And would you regard with the same indifference,” M. D’Arget rejoined, “seeing us at the gates of Vienna?”
“Yes,” the king replied. “I swear it to you, D’Arget. In a word, I want to have some good of my life. What are we, poor human atoms, to get up projects that cost so much blood!”
On the 25th of December, 1745, the peace of Dresden was signed. The demands of Frederick were acceded to. Augustus III. of Saxony, Maria Theresa of Austria, and George II. of England became parties to the treaty. The next day Frederick attended sermon in the Protestant church. Monday morning his army, by slow marches, commenced its return to Brandenburg. Frederick, highly elated by the wonderful and almost miraculous change in his affairs, entered his carriage in company with his two brothers, and drove rapidly toward Berlin. The next day, at two o’clock in the afternoon, they reached the heath of Britz, five miles out from the city. Here the king found an immense concourse of the citizens, who had come on horseback and in carriages to escort him to his palace. Frederick sat in an open phaeton, accompanied by the Prince of Prussia and Prince Henry. The throng was so great that the horses could only proceed at the slowest pace. The air resounded with shouts of “Long live Frederick the Great.” The king was especially gracious, saying to those who eagerly crowded around his carriage wheels,
“Do not press each other, my children. Take care of yourselves that the horses may not trample upon you, and that no accident may happen.”
It was remarked that the whole behavior of the king upon this occasion exhibited the utmost mildness, gentleness, and affability. He seemed to be influenced by the most tender regard for the welfare of the people.
Upon reaching the palace, he stood for a moment upon the grand stairway, and, surveying the thronging thousands, took off his hat and saluted them. This gave rise to a burst of applause louder and heartier than Berlin had ever heard before. The king disappeared within the palace. Where the poor neglected queen was at this time we are not informed. There are no indications that he gave her even a thought.
At six o’clock in the evening the whole city was illuminated. Frederick entered his carriage, and, attended by his two brothers, the Prince of Prussia and Prince Henry, rode out to take the circuit of the streets. But the king had received information that one of his former preceptors, M. Duhan, lay at the point of death. He ordered his carriage to be at once driven to the residence of the dying man. The house of M. Duhan was situated in a court, blazing with the glow of thousands of lamps.
“It was an affecting sight,” says M. Bielfeld, “to see a dying man in the midst of a brilliant illumination, surrounded by princes, and visited by a triumphant monarch, who, in the midst of the incessant clamor of exultation, sought only to alleviate the sick man’s pangs, participating in his distress, and reflecting upon the vanity of all human grandeur.”
The king having taken a tender adieu of M. Duhan, who died the next morning, traversed the brilliant streets of the rejoicing city, and returned to the palace about ten that evening.
Frederick now entered upon a period of ten years of peace.