XI
SEASON IN BADEN-BADEN
Resumption of trente-et-quarante · Baroness Seutter · Acquaintance with King William I of Prussia · A letter from the king
We took up our quarters in the large Villa Mesmer, situated opposite the Kursaal, where Queen Augusta of Prussia was accustomed to lodge during her yearly visits to this watering-place. She was not to arrive till a few weeks later, and in the meantime we were assigned to a part of her suite, including the large drawing-room, the windows of which gave upon the park. Impatiently I awaited the arrival of the Murats, who had already engaged rooms at the Villa Stéphanie. The interesting life would begin only when my friends should make their appearance.
While waiting for them I made the acquaintance of a charming woman who was domiciled in Baden-Baden—the Baroness Seutter. She conceived a great predilection for me and frequently invited me to her house, where the local society of the city were accustomed to gather.
My mother, who long ago had passionately abjured all gambling, began again—merely out of curiosity, just for once—to risk a gold piece or two. And lo and behold, the results of the early tests followed! Could it be that the marvelous gift had awakened again? We could at least try it and see, as long as it would last. And in reality the luck held; the originally wagered ten louis had grown into a little pile of thousand-franc notes—if this would only hold out for a couple of months, with gradually increasing stakes,—and why not?—then would la réussite be made. All the extinguished hopes flamed up again.
One day I received the disquieting news that the young Murat couple had changed their plans and would not come that summer to Baden-Baden; the rooms in the Villa Stéphanie were given up. We also were now compelled to leave our quarters, as Queen Augusta’s arrival was imminent. It would have been reasonable of us to go home, since the object of our coming—to be with the Murats—had failed; but we preferred to remain. The laborious business of winning in the Kursaal had indeed for a time dropped off, then started up again, and again dropped off—this last time, however, only from blunders which might be avoided later, and so it seemed necessary to make further tests. And I had many opportunities of amusement in consequence of my acquaintance with the Baroness Seutter; so I also would rather remain in brilliant, wonderfully beautiful Baden-Baden than return to our own simple Baden. In place of the rooms which we were compelled to vacate in the main villa our landlord gave us pleasant quarters in a dépendance.
Shortly after Queen Augusta’s arrival the old king, William I, also came to Baden-Baden with the intention of staying about a week. From our windows we could see the main part of the villa and the king’s working room. He sat there every morning at his writing-table, which was moved up close to the open window, and he could be seen there as he worked.
Nay, it was my lot before very long to see the victor of 1866 close at hand and to make his personal acquaintance. I ought properly, as an Austrian, to have cherished patriotic resentment against our vanquisher; but I confess that I felt nothing of the sort—only a huge respect for these very victories. The idea of a winner of battles, a conqueror of countries, was to me still, as my history lessons had made it, the sum of all greatness, of all glory. Of course some one must suffer damage in order that victories and conquests may be attained; that in this case it happened to be my native country that was hurt, was a circumstance which could not make the king less lovable—I certainly would not wish to be so egotistically unfair. Moreover the old man was well known to be fascinatingly affable and thoroughly kind-hearted; in short, I could not cherish any patriotic rancor against him.
Frau von Seutter invited me one evening to accompany her to her box. It was the performance of an Italian opera, but I cannot remember what work was presented. I only know that we sat next to the grand-ducal box, and that King William was one of the occupants of it. He nodded a greeting to Frau von Seutter and kept looking across at us. On the following day the baroness proposed that I should go with her to a musical matinée at Madame Viardot’s—there the most fashionable public was sure to be found; but I would not be persuaded. I never wanted to be seen by Madame Viardot as long as I lived! In the afternoon Frau von Seutter told me that the matinée had been most brilliant. Among those who were present was the King of Prussia. He had asked her who that young lady was, at the opera the evening before; he thought he had recognized his neighbor whom he had often seen from his window.
A few days later I saw the king again at a soirée which a great society lady—I cannot now recall her name—had given in his honor. Living pictures were a part of the entertainment. In the course of the evening Frau von Seutter presented me to the old monarch.
“Oh,” he cried smiling, as he extended his hand, “we have known each other for a long time—from our windows!”
From that time forth it very frequently happened that the king addressed me in the Kurpark, where, during the afternoon music, he used to walk up and down before the Kursaal, in the midst of the guests, and that he then continued his promenade for a while at my side, chatting with me. I have no diary of that period, and therefore cannot reproduce the tenor of these conversations. I remember only that I asked him for a photograph, which was courteously furnished with his autograph on it. I was required to give him mine in return, but the king found it a poor likeness and asked for another. After a few days he departed from Baden-Baden. On the morning of his departure I sent over to him the desired photograph with an accompanying note. What its contents were I do not now know, but I must have made some reference to conquest—possibly with an allusion to 1866. The answer that he sent back is in my possession. It was put into my hands by a special messenger just as I was on the point of going with the Baroness Seutter and a few other ladies to the railway station to present the departing king with some flowers. Here is a copy of the letter:
Baden, 23. 10. ’68
I have just received your photograph, gracious countess, somewhat better than the one which you were kind enough to hand me yesterday. In permitting myself herewith to express my most sincere thanks for it, I must likewise do so, and still more feelingly, for the kindly lines that accompanied the picture. In the passage about conquest an error seems to have crept in; you probably meant to say that you knew very well that you had made a conquest, the conquest of a graybeard in his seventy-third year, whose sentiments still often receive very lively impressions, especially when, though only too infrequently, they are kept fresh by a vis-à-vis!
Most earnestly recommending myself to your continued remembrance, I remain, gracious countess,
Your very devoted
Wilhelm Rex