"Mamma," exclaimed the Princess Charlotte, "I see already the Bernauer gate! Oh, hear the shouts, look at that triumphal arch!"
The queen turned her eyes toward the city. The cheers of the people sounded in her ears like the early greetings of her happiness, and filled her soul with ecstasy. As the king, between his sons, rode into the gateway, the bells rang, and the cannon shook the ground. When the queen's carriage entered, the soldiers formed in line on both sides of the street, and behind them surged a dense crowd of men and women. Nothing was to be seen but happy, smiling faces; love was beaming from every eye, and with bells, cannon, waving hands, and the cheers of her citizens, Berlin greeted the return of her sovereigns.
The king acknowledged these demonstrations with a grave, thoughtful face; he saluted the people affectionately, but his countenance grew sad. He thought of the many faithful subjects whom he had lost, of the cities and provinces which had been taken from him, of the grievous and bloody sacrifices of the last years; he remembered that he was returning to his ancestors, possessed only of the smaller portion of the inheritance which they had left him, and these reflections overshadowed his joy.
The queen only felt and thought of the happiness of her return. These thousands of hearts throbbing for her, this crowd of greeting men about her carriage to see her and shout words of welcome, filled her soul with profound emotion. She did not restrain her tears, and was not ashamed of this expression of her feelings. She wept, smiled, and rejoiced with her people.
When the cheers reëchoed through the street as she passed, the queen exclaimed aloud: "What grateful music this is! It sounds in my ears as sacred, and the city seems a vast cathedral! Charlotte, my beloved daughter, listen! but with a devout heart. There is hardly any thing more solemn and yet delightful to a princess than the cheers of her subjects. She who deserves them must return the people's love, and sympathize in their joys and sufferings. My daughter, if you yourself should one day wear a crown, think of this hour, and let the affection of the people now occupy your heart.—But, my child, there is our house, the dear old house where you children were born! What persons are standing in front of it? Who are they waving their handkerchiefs toward us? The beloved sisters of your father, the Princesses of Orange and Hesse! Who is that tall gentleman at their side? It is my father, my honored father!" The carriage drove up to the portal of the royal palace. "Welcome!" cried the princesses. "Welcome!" shouted the crowd, filling the large square in front.
The Emperor Francis and Metternich
The queen did not utter a word; but, stretching out her arms toward her father, she greeted him with a smile, while the tears rolled over her cheeks.
The duke pushed the footmen aside and opened himself the door of her carriage, when the queen, disregarding all etiquette, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed him. The people who witnessed this touching scene, became silent. With folded hands and tearful eyes they admired her who had ever been an affectionate and grateful daughter as well as a beneficent sovereign, and their prayers ascended to heaven for her welfare. Half carried in the arms of her father, Louisa entered the palace, and ascended the staircase. The doors of the large reception-room were open. The king met her; her two oldest sons stood behind him, and her two youngest children, held up by their nurses, stretched out their little arms toward her. She joyfully hastened into the room. "Come, my children," she exclaimed with a smile, "come, my seven radiant stars!"