I had indulged my ill-humour till it was late; already all the avenues leading to the Karoline-Platz were occupied by the military, and my carriage was stopped. As I was within fifty yards of the ambassador's house, it did not much signify, and I dismissed the carriage; but they would not allow the lacquais to pass. Wondering at all these precautions I dismissed him too. A little further on I was myself stopped, and civilly commanded to turn back. I pleaded that I only wished to enter the house to which I pointed. "It was impossible." Now, what I had not cared for a moment before became at once an object to be attained, and which I was resolved to attain. I was really curious and anxious to see how all this would end, for the indifferent or lowering looks of the crowd had struck me. I observed to a well-dressed man, who politely tried to make way for me, that it was strange to see so much severity of discipline at a public fête. "Public fête!" he repeated with scornful bitterness; "Je vous demande pardon, madame! c'est une fête pour quelques uns, mais ce n'est pas une fête pour nous, ce n'est pas pour le peuple!"
At length I fortunately met an officer, with whom I was slightly acquainted, who immediately conducted me to the door. The spectacle, merely as a spectacle, was not striking; but to me it had a peculiar interest. There was a raised platform on one side for the queen and her children, who, attended by a numerous court, were spectators. An outer circle was formed by several regiments of guards, and within this circle the soldiers who had served in Russia were drawn up near the obelisk, which was covered for the present with a tarpauling. But all my attention was fixed on the disbanded soldiers without uniforms, who stood together in a dark dense column, contrasting with the glittering and gorgeous array of those around them. The king rode into the circle, accompanied by his brother, Prince Charles, the arch-duke Francis of Austria, Marshal Wrede, and followed by a troop of generals, equerries, &c. There was a dead silence, and not a shout was raised to greet him. A few of the disbanded soldiers, who were nearest to him, took off their hats, others kept them on. The trumpets sounded a salute: the bands struck up our "God save the King," which is nationalized as the loyal anthem all over Germany. The canvass covering fell at once, and displayed the obelisk, which is entirely of bronze, raised upon four granite steps. It bears a simple inscription. I think it is "Ludwig I., king, to the soldiers of Bavaria who fell in the Russian campaign;" or nearly to that purpose. Marshal Wrede then alighted from his horse and addressed the soldiers. This was a striking moment; for while the outer circle of military remained immovable as statues, the soldiers within, both those with, and those without uniforms, finding themselves out of ear-shot, advanced a few steps, and then breaking their ranks, pressed forward in a confused mass, surrounding the king and his officers, in the most eager but respectful manner. I could not distinguish one sentence of the harangue, which, as I afterwards heard, was any thing rather than satisfactory.
I heard it remarked round me that the Duke de Leuchtenberg, (the son of Eugène Beauharnais,) was not present, neither as one of the royal cortège nor as a spectator.
The whole lasted about twenty minutes. The day was cold; and, in truth, the ceremony was cold, in every sense of the word. The Karoline-Platz is so large that not a third part of the open space was occupied. Had the people, who lingered sullen and discontented outside the military barrier, been admitted under proper restrictions, it had been a grand and imposing sight; but, perhaps the king is following the Austrian tactics, and seeking to crush systematically every thing like feeling or enthusiasm in his people. I know not how he will manage it; for he is himself the very antipodes of Austrian carelessness and sluggishness: a restless enthusiast—fond of intellectual excitement—fond of novelty—with no natural taste, one would think, for Metternich's vieilleries. If he adopt Austrian principles, his theory and his practice, his precept and example, will always be at variance. At the conclusion of the ceremony the king and his suite rode up to the platform and saluted the queen: and when she—who is so universally and truly beloved here that I believe the people would die for her at anytime—rose to depart, I heard a cheer, the first and last this day! The disbanded soldiers approached the platform, at first timidly by twos and threes, and then in great numbers, taking off their hats. She stood up, leaning on the princess Matilda, and bowed. The royal cortège then disappeared. The military bands struck up, and one battalion after another filed off. I expected that the crowd would have rushed in, but the people seemed completely chilled and disgusted. Only a few appeared. In about half an hour the obelisk was left alone in its solitude.
I spent the rest of the day with Madame de V——, and returned home quite tired and depressed.
I understand this morning (Saturday) that the king has ordered a gratuity and dinner to be given to the disbanded soldiers. I hope it is true, King Louis! You ought at least to understand your metier de Roi better than to degrade the "pomp and circumstance of glorious war" in the eyes of your people, and make them feel for what a poor recompence they may fight, bleed, die—be made at once victims and executioners in the contests of royal and ambitious gamblers!
I saw to-day, at the house of the court banker, Eichthal, a most charming picture by the Baroness de Freyberg, the sister of my good friend, M. Stuntz. It is a Madonna and child—loveliest of subjects for a woman and a mother!—she is sure to put her heart into it, at least; but, in this particular picture, the surpassing delicacy of touch, the softness and purity of the colouring, the masterly drawing in the hands of the Virgin, and the limbs of the child, equalled the feeling and the expression—and, in truth, surprised me. Madame de Freyberg gave this picture to her father, who is not rich, and, unhappily, blind. Of him, the present possessor purchased it for fifteen hundred florins, (about 140l.) and now values it at twice the sum. In the possession of her brother, I have seen others of her productions, and particularly a head of one of his children, of exceeding beauty, and very much in the old Italian style.
In the evening, a very lively and amusing soirée at the house of Dr. Martius. We had some very good music. Young Vieux-temps, a pupil of De Beriot, was well accompanied by an orchestra of amateurs. I met here also a young lady of whom I had heard much—Josephine Lang, looking so gentle, so unpretending, so imperturbable, that no one would have accused or suspected her of being one of the Muses in disguise, until she sat down to the piano, and sang her own beautiful and original compositions in a style peculiar to herself. She is a musician by nature, by choice, and by profession, exercising her rare talent with as much modesty as good-nature. The painter Zimmermann, who has a magnificent bass voice, sung for me Mignon's song—"Kennst du das Land!" And, lastly, which was the most interesting amusement of the evening, Karl von Holtei read aloud the second act of Goethe's Tasso. He read most admirably, and with a voice which kept attention enchained, enchanted; still it was genuine reading. He kept equally clear of acting and of declamation.