When Isabella, mother of Philip II., was, writes D’Israeli,[41] “ready to be delivered of him, she commanded that all the lights should be extinguished: that, if the violence of her pain should occasion her face to change colour, no one might perceive it. And when the midwife said, ‘Madam, cry out, that will give you ease,’ she answered, ‘How dare you give me such advice? I would rather die than cry out.’”
In truth, the fads of sovereigns, with their royal etiquette, were frequently carried to such lengths as to make martyrs of them. According to another absurd story from the same source, Philip III., when seated by the fireside, was once nearly suffocated with heat from the large quantity of wood that the fire-maker had kindled; but “his grandeur would not suffer him to rise from the chair, and the domestics could not presume to enter the apartment, because it was against the etiquette. At length the Marquis de Potat appeared, and the King ordered him to damp the fire; but he excused himself, alleging that he was forbidden by the etiquette to perform such a function, for which the Duke d’Ussada ought to be called upon, as it was his business. The Duke was gone out, the fire burnt fiercer, and the King actually endured it rather than derogate from his dignity.” But, it is said, his blood was heated to such a degree that an erysipelas of the head appeared the next day, which, succeeded by a violent fever, carried him off in the twenty-fourth year of his reign. And what can be more ludicrous than the following: The palace was once on fire; a soldier who knew the King’s sister was in her apartment, and must inevitably have been consumed in a few minutes by the flames, rushed in at the risk of his life, and brought her out. But Spanish etiquette was wofully broken, and the loyal soldier was brought to trial and condemned to death. The Spanish princess, however, in consideration of the circumstance, condescended to pardon the soldier, and saved his life.[42] Churchill might indeed well exclaim—
“Spain gives us pride—which Spain to all the earth
May largely give, nor fear herself a dearth.”
Leopold the “Angel,” second son of the Emperor Ferdinand, would rear the most odoriferous plants, but inflicted on himself the mortification of never going near enough to smell them, imagining that by this act of self-denial he was thereby adding a step to a ladder of good works, “by which he hoped to scale heaven!”
Peter the Great had a strong aversion to being looked at in public, a peculiarity which when visiting this country kept him almost entirely aloof from the gaieties of the Court. On the birthday of the Princess Anne, when a grand ball was given by William III. at Kensington, curiosity so far prevailed over his diffidence as to induce him to express a wish to be present. But he contented himself with occupying a small apartment where, without being seen himself, he could be a spectator of the festive scene. On another occasion, writes Lord Dartmouth, Peter had a mind to see the King in Parliament, “in order to which he was placed in a gutter upon the house-top, to peep in at the window, where he made so ridiculous a figure that neither King nor people could forbear laughing, which obliged him to retire sooner than he intended.” It was probably from what was styled “the lantern” in the roof of the old House of Commons that the Czar witnessed the proceedings below. And many other anecdotes illustrative of this peculiar fad are to be found in the biographies of his Majesty.
Immediately on ascending the throne of Prussia, Frederick William’s mania for crimping and recruiting giants broke out with such force as to be the talk of Europe, “and the terror of every mother of a stalwart youth, not only in his own dominions, but in the neighbouring principalities.” So violently had his agents gone to work, that before the year 1713 was ended he issued a proclamation “not to stop the passengers on the post, as had been done several times.” Indeed, a regular man-hunt was instituted throughout all the villages, even during divine service. Once a rural pastor died of the shock occasioned by seeing his taller sacramental communicants carried off en masse by a recruiting party, “who thought that the Sunday congregation would spare them all further trouble in hunting through the cottages.” In 1720 this was repeated, but so violent was the indignation that an insurrection ensued.[43] From 1713 to 1735 it is said that Frederick William sent 12,000,000 of dollars for recruiting purposes into foreign countries, in connection with which may be quoted the following humorous but tragic occurrence: “In the duchy of Juliers, a Baron Hompesch, who was crimp-in-chief, once bespoke by way of strategy of a very tall master-joiner, who did not know him, a cupboard as long and as broad as the artisan himself. After some days the Baron called to take away the cupboard, but complained that it was of insufficient length. In a fit of alacrity the long-legged joiner laid himself full length within the cupboard as a proof that Hompesch was mistaken; but suddenly the door was fastened by the people whom Hompesch had in waiting, and the unfortunate joiner was carried off as a recruit. On opening the cupboard afterwards he was found dead. Hompesch, however, was condemned to death, but the King commuted his sentence to imprisonment for life.”[44]
Numerous anecdotes have been told illustrative of Frederick William’s other fads and eccentricities. Sometimes he would signify his rejection of what he considered an absurd petition by drawing on the margin an ass’s head and ears. One day a baron of ancient patent having complained of another baron taking precedence of him, the King wrote on the petition: “Mere folly; whether a man sits above me or below me, my birth remains the same.” Oftentimes he would ask people in the streets who they were, a peculiarity which made nervous people evade the royal presence. One day when a Jew saw the King approaching he took to his heels and ran; but Frederick William pursued him in hot haste, and when he overtook him, asked, “Why did you run away from me?” “From fear,” answered the Jew, whereupon his Majesty gave him a heavy thwack with his cane, and said that he “wished himself to be loved, and not to be feared.”
And even while distracted with the gout, his eccentricity showed itself; for, as a hymn was being sung to him, at the passage, “Naked shall I go hence,” he interrupted the singers and said, “No—I shall be buried in my uniform.”
Gregory of Tours, speaking of the “Do-nothing kings” of France, says that they sat at home “and gormandized like brute beasts,” showing themselves, as Dr. Doran writes, “once a year perhaps to the people, in state robes.” Such conduct was not to be commended, and so little was Childeric III. ever seen that he was known as the “Phantom King,” his chief amusement having consisted in curling his hair and dressing his beard. Equally apathetic and indifferent to his duties was Ferdinand I. of Austria. And, as an instance of his weak mind, one day he remarked in the imperial palace at Vienna, “I once very readily paid a visit to one of the theatres in the suburbs; but I don’t know—I can’t make out whether they wanted me or not.” It seems he thought he was there to put his signature to some document, “and he was puzzled as to whether he had been asked to do so or not.”
Frederick III. often fell asleep whilst the most important affairs of the State were being discussed, which acquired for him the nickname of “Emperor Night Cap.” When the Turks were destroying the villages and harvests of his people, he amused himself in his garden picking caterpillars out of his roses, and catching slugs with buttered cabbage leaves.[45]