On the day of the marriage, the princess, having formally renounced all her rights to the personal property of the family, dined with the royal household and her intended, and then retired to her apartment to dress for the wedding. It would seem that the queen must have become quite insane upon this point. Even at this late hour she did every thing she could to delay operations and to gain time, hoping every moment that some courier would arrive from England with proposals which would induce the king to break off the engagement. As fast as the princess’s hair on one side was dressed the queen would contrive to undo it, so that at last the hair would no longer curl, making her look, as Wilhelmina said, “like a mad woman.” She adds:
“A royal crown was placed upon my head, together with twenty-four curls of false hair, each as big as my arm. I could not hold up my head, as it was too weak for so great a weight. My gown was a very rich silver brocade, trimmed with gold lace, and my train was twelve yards long. I thought I should have died under this dress.”
The marriage took place in the Grand Saloon. The moment the benediction was pronounced, a triple discharge of cannon announced the event to the inhabitants of Berlin. Then the newly-married pair, seated under a gorgeous canopy, received the congratulations of the court. A ball followed, succeeded by a supper. After supper there came, according to the old German custom, what was called the dance of torches. This consisted of the whole company marching to music in procession through the rooms, each holding a lighted torch. The marriage festivities were continued for several days, with a succession of balls each night. Wilhelmina had not yet been permitted to see her brother since his arrest. But the king had promised Wilhelmina, as her reward for giving up the wretched Prince of Wales, that he would recall her brother and restore him to favor. On Friday evening, the 23d, three days after the wedding, there was a brilliant ball in the Grand Apartment. Wilhelmina thus describes the event which then took place:
“I liked dancing, and was taking advantage of my chances. Grumkow came up to me, in the middle of a minuet, and said, ‘Mon dieu, madame, you seem to have got bit by the tarantula. Don’t you see those strangers who have just come in?’ I stopped short, and, looking all around, I noticed at last a young man, dressed in gray, whom I did not know. ‘Go, then,’ said Grumkow, ‘and embrace the Crown Prince. There he is before you.’ My whole frame was agitated with joy. ‘Oh, heavens, my brother!’ cried I; ‘but I do not see him. Where is he? For God’s sake show him to me.’
“Grumkow led me to the young man in gray. Coming near, I recognized him, though with difficulty. He had grown much stouter, and his neck was much shorter. His face also was much changed, and was no longer as handsome as it had been. I fell upon his neck. I was so overcome that I could only speak in an unconnected manner. I wept, I laughed like a person out of her senses. In my life I have never felt so lively a joy. After these first emotions were subsided I went and threw myself at the feet of the king, who said to me aloud, in the presence of my brother,
“‘Are you content with me? You see that I have kept my word with you.’
“I took my brother by the hand, and implored the king to restore his affection to him. This scene was so touching that it drew tears from all present. I then approached the queen. She was obliged to embrace me, the king being close opposite. But I remarked that her joy was only affected. I turned to my brother again. I gave him a thousand caresses, to all which he remained cold as ice, and answered only in monosyllables. I presented to him my husband, to whom he did not say one word. I was astonished at this; but I laid the blame of it on the king, who was observing us, and who I judged might be intimidating my brother. But even the countenance of my brother surprised me. He wore a proud air, and seemed to look down upon every body.”
THE RECONCILIATION.
Neither the king nor the Crown Prince appeared at the supper. With a select circle, to which neither Wilhelmina nor her mother were admitted, they supped in a private apartment. At the report that the king was treating the Crown Prince with great friendliness, the queen could not conceal her secret pique. “In fact,” says Wilhelmina, “she did not love her children except as they served her ambitious views.” She was jealous of Wilhelmina because she, and not her mother, had been the means of the release of Fritz. After supper the dancing was resumed, and Wilhelmina embraced an opportunity to ask her brother why he was so changed, and why he treated her so coldly. He assured her that he was not changed; that his reserve was external only; that he had reasons for his conduct. Still he did not explain his reasons, and Wilhelmina remained wounded and bewildered.