Volume 8 — HIS INTERVIEW WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT[38]
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HIS INTERVIEW WITH FREDERICK THE GREAT[38]
At that time I am writing of, Lord Keith was living in Berlin, resting on his laurels, beloved and cherished by the king, but taking no active part in politics, as he was over eighty years of age, but simple and charming as ever. He received me kindly, and exprest a hope that I should remain some time in Berlin, as he knew, to a certain extent, the vicissitudes of my past life. I replied that I would gladly settle there if the king would give me a suitable appointment; but when I asked him to speak to the king for me, he replied that that would do more harm than good. "His majesty piques himself on knowing men better than any one else. He likes to judge them himself; sometimes he discovers merit when no one else sees any, and sometimes vice versa."
He advised me to write to the king and beg an interview.
"When you speak to him, you can say that you know me, and he will then probably ask me about you; you may be sure that I shall say nothing but what is to your credit."
"I, my lord, write to a king to whom I have no introduction? I could not think of it."
"But you wish to speak to him, do you not?"
"Certainly."
"That is enough; your letter need contain nothing but the expression of your desire."
"Will the king answer me?"
"Without doubt, for he answers everybody. He will tell you when it will please him to receive you. Take my advice, and let me know how you get on."
I did as he suggested, and wrote a simple and respectful letter, asking when and where I might present myself to his majesty. The day but one after I received a reply signed Frederick, acknowledging the receipt of my letter, and saying I should find him at four o'clock that day in the gardens at Sans Souci.
As my readers may imagine, I was delighted at having obtained a rendezvous, and arrived at the palace an hour before the appointed time very simply drest in black. I entered the courtyard, and as I did not see any one, not even a sentinel, I went up a short staircase, and opening a door, found myself in a picture-gallery. A guardian came up and offered to show me the collection.
"I did not come here to admire these works of art," I said, "but to speak to the king, who told me he would be in the garden."
"At this moment he is at his concert, playing the flute. 'Tis his dessert after dinner, and he treats himself to it every day. Did he fix any hour?"
"Yes, four o'clock, but he may have forgotten."
"He never forgets. He will be punctual, and you had better wait in the garden."
I had not been there long, when I saw him approaching. The king followed by his secretary and a fine spaniel. As soon as he saw me he pronounced my name, at the same time taking off his bad old hat; he then asked, in a terrible voice, what I wanted.
I stood looking at him in silence.
"Well, can't you speak? Isn't it you who wrote to me?"
"Yes, sire; but now I can't remember what I had to say. I did not think the majesty of a king could so dazzle my senses. I shall be better prepared in future. My lord marshal ought to have warned me."
"Ah! he knows you, does he? Come, let us walk about. What did you wish to say? What do you think of this garden?"
He ordered me to speak of his garden! I should have said I knew nothing of gardens to any one else, but if he chose to think me a connoisseur I must fain pretend to be one. At the risk of exposing my ignorance, I replied that it was superb.
"But," he said, "the gardens at Versailles are far finer."
"I own it, sire; but that is because of the fountains."
"True; but it is not my fault. There is no water here. I have spent more than three hundred thousand crowns, but without success."
"Three hundred thousand crowns, sire! If your majesty spent that sum, there should have been abundance of water."
"Ah! ah! I see you are a hydraulic architect."
Could I tell him he was mistaken? I was afraid of displeasing him, so I simply bent my head. This could be taken for yes or no. Thank God, he did not continue to talk on this subject, or I should have been terribly put to it, for I did not know the very rudiments of hydraulics.
Still walking up and down, and turning his head right and left, he asked me what the Venetian forces, naval and military, amounted to. Now I was on my own ground. "Twenty men of war, sire, and a large number of galleys."
"And what land forces?"
"Seventy thousand men, sire, all subjects of the republic, and counting all that, only one man from each village."
"That is not true. I suppose you want to amuse me with your fables. You must be a financier; tell me, what do you think of the taxes?"
This was the first interview I had ever had with royalty. Considering his style, his abrupt change of subject, and his sudden digressions, I felt as tho I had been called on to act in one of those improvised Italian comedies in which, if the actor stops short for a word, the pit and the gallery hiss him mercilessly. I immediately assumed the style of a financier, and replied that I was acquainted with the theory of taxation.
"That is what I want," he replied, "for the practise does not concern you."
"There are three kinds of taxes, taking into consideration their effects: one is ruinous, one is unfortunately necessary, and the third is always excellent."
"That is good; go on."
"The ruinous tax is the royal tax; the necessary one is the military one; and the excellent one is the popular tax."
I wanted to throw him off his beat a little, as I had not got up my subject.
"The royal tax, sire, is the one which empties the purses of the subjects to swell the coffers of the sovereign."
"And that is the ruinous one, you say?"
"Always, sire, for it stops the circulation of money, which is the soul of commerce and the backbone of the state."
"Yet, you consider the army tax necessary?"
"Unfortunately necessary, for war is a dire calamity."
"Perhaps. And how about the popular tax?"
"It is always excellent, for what the king takes from his people with one hand, he gives them back with the other, turning it into useful channels, protecting science and art, and so contributing to the general social well-being; in fact, the king adds to general happiness by employing the money drawn from the taxes as his wisdom dictates."
"There is a good deal of truth in what you say. No doubt you know Calsabigi?"
"I ought to know him, sire, for we established the Genoese lottery in Paris together, seven years ago."
"And under what head would you class that tax, if you admit it to be one?"
"It is one, sire, and not one of the least important. It is a good tax, if the king spends the profits in a useful manner."
"But supposing he loses?"
"One chance in fifty, sire."
"Is that the result of an exact calculation?"
"As exact, sire, as all political calculations."
"They are often wrong."
"They are never wrong, sire, if God remains neutral."
"Why drag the Deity into such a question?"
"Let us say then, sire, luck, or destiny."
"That is better. Perhaps I agree with you about the moral calculations, but I do not like your Genoese lottery. It seems to me a mere swindle, and I would not have anything to do with it, even if I were certain to win always."
"Your majesty is right, for the public would never support lotteries were they not led away by false security."
Then he tried one or two other points, but I met him without flinching. Suddenly he stopt short and looked me over from head to foot.
"Do you know that you are a very handsome man?"
"Is it possible, sire, that after a long scientific dissertation, your majesty can credit me with merely the qualities which distinguish your majesty's grenadiers?"
The king smiled with kind malice, then said: "As it seems that Lord Keith knows you, I will speak to him about you."
He then took off his hat again, for he was never chary of his bows, and I, making him a profound reverence, withdrew.
Three or four days after the lord marshal told me the king was very pleased with me, and had said he would try and find me something to do.