Friedrich Theodor Vischer (1807-1889).
HIS SERENITY WILL BUILD A PALACE.
“HIS HIGHNESS ADOLF FRIEDRICH IV. TREMBLED FROM TOP TO TOE.”
IT was in the year 1700 and something or other, on a pleasant May day about bed-time, that his Serene Highness the Duke of Mecklenberg-Strelitz, Adolf Friedrich, fourth of the name, and his dear sister, the Princess Christel, were sitting side by side in their palace telling each other true ghost stories, thrilling yarns that nobody under the sun would have believed if they hadn’t really happened; and they both sat shivering, more especially his Serenity Adolf Friedrich.
Suddenly through the still summer evening there came a sound across the lake, a most uncanny sound, a sound that none but the most masculine ghost would be guilty of to frighten a poor mortal out of his seven wits. With a hollow cadence long drawn out did it pass over the whole of Neu-Strelitz, and the princely pair could not for the life of them say whether it came from up in the air or from underneath the earth. It was all the same anyhow, it was gruesome enough either way. His Highness Adolf Friedrich IV. trembled from top to toe, and Princess Christel, who was confoundedly resolute for a woman, had just enough presence of mind left to catch hold of a silver bell and ring and storm with might and main. Why she did it she couldn’t have told you, but at any rate it brought human aid to the spot. Rand, the valet de chambre, and Von Knüppelsdörp, the gentleman of the bed-chamber, came rushing in to ask the why and wherefor. Princess Christel was just able to motion the two to a chair, and so the four of them sat staring at each other in dead silence, and none of them knew what was the matter except that they saw his Serenity had the shivers. All at once the sound came again, and as it was dying away over Neu-Strelitz in its hollow weirdness Adolf Friedrich IV. clapped his hands over his most serene ears and cried, “There it is again!” Von Knüppelsdörp, gentleman of the bed-chamber, took the words out of the mouth of Rand, the valet, on the strength of the Mecklenborgian regulations concerning rank, and remarked, “Your Highness, it’s the bittern.” And the Princess Christel had just enough presence of mind to ask what new kind of spook that might be. And the gentleman of the bed-chamber said it was no spook at all, it was only a bird that took a devilish sort of delight in frightening honest folk by putting his beak in the swampy ground and then bellowing like a good one. I’m sure I don’t know whether he was right, but he ought to have known, for he was also page of the hunt. But his Serenity did not take much stock in what he said, and after having meditated a bit he remarked, “All good spirits praise the Lord; and as for you, Rand, I want you to sleep with me this coming night.” With that he left the room.
Princess Christel sat a bit longer with the gentleman of the bed-chamber, discussing the question what potent charms she should employ to banish the ghost for the coming night, and who should sleep with her, for her lady-in-waiting, Caroline Soltmanns, was an old superstitious chatterer, and at last she came to the conclusion that it would be by far the best thing she could do to invite the scrubbing-maid Wendula Steinhagens for the night. Wendula was a d—d plucky person, who was not afraid of the devil nor of his Serenity the Duke, for she had been known to say, “Hallo there, your Highness; get out of the way, will you!” And had flourished her broom in his face.
So the princely pair had passed the night safely under the tender care of Rand and Wendula, and were sitting at the breakfast table next morning drinking chocolate. Then did his Serenity come forth with his deep thoughts and remark, “Sister Christel, you are a woman, and you know I don’t think much of ’em; but you are a member of our most serene house, and for this reason, and on this account, I will make known to you the measures of my government. Would you know the news? I’ll build me a new palace on some pleasant spot in my domains.”
“That’s right, your Grace,” said she. “You are lord of the whole; but how will the money hold out?”
“Oh, I’ve thought of all that,” said his Serenity; “but what have I got my bailiffs for? They must help me out of the lurch, and the workmen can wait awhile for their pay; for it is scandalous that Serenissimus Streliziensis should have to endure a spook under his very nose. To be sure, that fool Knüppelsdörp says it’s a bittern,—but what is a bittern? I’ll believe anything, but to believe an explanation like that is more than can be expected of me in my quality as sovereign lord.”