[CHAPTER LVI.]
THE QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY.
There were great rejoicings in Berlin. It was the 10th of March, the queen's birthday, and she celebrated it again at the capital for the first time in three years. Every one hastened to manifest his love and sympathy for the queen, and all classes had sent in requests for permission to choose committees to present their congratulations to her majesty. The queen had cheerfully granted these requests, and the deputations of the old aristocracy, the states, the clergy, the municipality, the academy, the painters, and other artists, the mechanics, and citizens, were assembled in the large hall of the royal palace, waiting her arrival.
The folding-doors at length opened, and the queen, preceded by the grand-marshal of the court, entered. She looked pale and exhausted, but received with affability and grace the cheers given by the assembly at her appearance, and walked slowly down the long line of the deputations, addressing a kind word or casting a grateful glance to every one, and charming all by her beauty, gentleness, and majesty. Suddenly her countenance brightened, and she approached a tall, stout gentleman standing in the midst of the committee of the artists. "M. Manager Iffland,"[50] she said, "let me bid you welcome. I expected to see you here to-day, in order to express once more my thanks for the joy you afforded me on my last birthday, and for the sufferings you underwent for my sake. But I should like to hear an account of the event from your own lips, and I ask of you, as a birthday present, to relate to me what happened to you last year on this day."
While uttering these words, the queen stepped back into the middle of the hall, and thereby compelled Iffland to leave the committee, and follow her. "Your majesty is really too kind to remember so insignificant an occurrence," said Iffland, bowing respectfully. "I was on that day only so happy as to give expression to the feelings animating all. 'Queen Louisa, our royal lady!' that was the motto encouraging us to bear up under the foreign yoke; it was our consolation when we thought of his majesty, our beloved king. However galling our chains might have been, we felt comfort. 'The royal lady is with him!' we said to each other, and with grateful tears every one remembered his queen."
"Yes, it is true," exclaimed the queen with feeling, "we met with much love and fidelity during the years of affliction, and to-day I thank from the bottom of my heart all those who were faithful to us." Her eyes gazed long and affectionately on the brilliant circle of those assembled, and she then turned again to Iffland. "Well, how was it on my birthday last year?" she asked. "Tell me, but speak loudly, that every one may hear."
"Last year on this day we were not as happy as we are to-day," said Iffland. "Our queen was not with us, and we could not let her read in our eyes the love and fidelity which we had been forbidden from manifesting toward her by word or deed. The French authorities had issued stringent orders everywhere, that the citizens should abstain from any allusions to or recollections of our queen's birthday, and that no demonstrations whatever should be made. We were obliged to submit to the petty tyranny, but our hearts were filled with anger, and the love which we could not assert was strengthened in its concealment. It needed only a spark to bring about an explosion, and the theatre was so fortunate as to kindle this spark in the hearts of the loyal Prussians. On the evening of that 10th of March, a small family drama which I had written was to be performed. It was the simple and affecting history of a family celebrating happily the reunion of a mother and her children. The mother's name was Louisa, and this name was sufficient to fill the house with a distinguished audience. All felt that the theatre was on that day the only place where the public heart, devoted to the queen, was allowed to throb for her; where glances could be exchanged and understood, and where it was permitted to whisper, 'It is her birthday to-day! Heaven bless her!' Every seat was occupied in the galleries as well as in the dress-circle, in the orchestra stalls as well as in the pit, everywhere reigned the same joyous commotion. Only in the boxes of the French, faces were seen that cast an angry and hostile expression on that audience.—The curtain rose, and the performance commenced. The actor Lange and myself appeared in the first scene. Lange had to play the part of a friend of the house, happening to arrive there on that day. I represented the son of Louisa, the mother, and appeared on the stage with a large bouquet on my breast. 'Why do you look so happy and well-dressed to-day?' said Lange. 'I suppose you are celebrating a family festival?' 'Yes!' I exclaimed in a loud and joyous voice, 'we are celebrating a family festival, and it is a beautiful festival; we are celebrating the return of our beloved mother, God bless her! God bless the dear lady who is to receive these flowers!' Carried away by my enthusiasm, I tore the bouquet from my breast, and held it out toward the audience. Moved by one and the same feeling of love and admiration, the whole assembly rose, and thousands of voices shouted, as it were with one mouth and from one heart, 'God bless her! God bless the dear lady—the adored mother!' Oh, queen, it was a sublime moment, and God counted the tears and understood the prayers that we addressed to Him. He has restored to us our queen, the beloved mother of her country and people!"
The queen at first listened smilingly: gradually, however, her countenance became grave. She was standing with profound emotion in front of Iffland, when he concluded his narrative, and tears dropped from her downcast eyes. Silence reigned in the vast hall, and all faces were turned to the queen. She raised her eyes slowly, and directed them toward Iffland with an expression of indescribable kindness. "I thank you," said Louisa; "you stood faithfully by your queen at a time when many were deserting her. You have been a faithful knight of mine, and the king, therefore, wants you to retain always the title of knight. He permits me to give you to-day another decoration instead of the bouquet you wore on your breast a year ago. In the name of his majesty I have to present to you the insignia of the order of the Red Eagle."
A pallor overspread. Iffland's countenance, while he received the order which the queen handed to him. "O queen," he said, deeply affected, "such an honor to me, the actor! I thank your majesty in the name of all my colleagues, from whom you have removed at this moment the interdict excluding them from the honors and dignities of other men."
The queen smiled. "It is true," she said, "I believe you are the first actor who ever received an order in Prussia. And are you not indeed the first actor? However, you owe us still the conclusion of your narrative. You described to us the scene at the theatre, but not the disagreeable consequences of the occurrence."