Part 35

During his absence, in consequence of an order given, no one knows by whom, though the embittered populace during the following days laid the blame of it on the Prince of Prussia, the future Emperor William, a regiment of dragoon guards arrived. The crowd shouted "Away!" The dragoons wheeled round, and the crowd were beginning to cry "Bravo!" when suddenly the soldiers charged in amongst them with naked swords. At the same moment a battalion of infantry marched out at the Castle gate, drew up in line, and also charged with levelled bayonets. Some shots were fired--possibly by accident. With loud shrieks the crowd instantaneously dispersed. Only a moment before joy had been at its height; strangers had been embracing each other, waving their hats, and shouting "Hurrah for the King"; now, as if at a preconcerted signal, barricades sprang up, as they had done in Vienna, over the whole town. There were two hundred of them, built of paving-stones, gutter-planking, and carts. The town was a camp. Men fired on the troops from every roof; those who could not get guns, threw stones. Every axe, every thick stick became a weapon.[10]

The roofs were torn off corner houses, and paving-stones were carried up in baskets. The students met, armed, in front of the University, fastened tri-coloured cockades in their caps, and proceeded to man the barricades. Powder and shot, axes and iron bars, were provided by the merchants. On the evening of the 18th, the artillery opened fire in the Königstrasse. The King looked on from the windows of the Castle, incensed by the deputations that came entreating him to withdraw the troops, but at times condescending to jest; what specially annoyed him was the sight of the tri-coloured flags waving on the barricades. He was ready, he said, to concede much to entreaty, nothing to illegal violence.

Varnhagen, in his Diary, describes what he saw and heard from his windows that night: "Asmall body of citizens under trusty leaders held the streets, doubly watchful because their numbers were so few. For a number of hours absolute darkness and silence prevailed; then, towards morning, the sound of far-off drums was heard; troops were evidently approaching. The citizen combatants were instantly on the alert; we could hear them whispering. A youthful voice gave the word of command: 'To the roofs, gentlemen!' and every man went to his post. This calm, determined command, given with noble simplicity, rang terrible and yet inspiring through the darkness. One felt the dangers which those who obeyed it were braving, for the general resistance was becoming weaker, and it seemed as if they were doomed, after a fruitless struggle, to meet an ignominious death, either by a fall from the roof, by the soldiers' bayonets, or by the hand of the executioner." Varnhagen concludes: "The heroic courage and determination of these daring youths was most undoubtedly worthy of all admiration"--weighty words, coming from the pen of an old, experienced officer.

On the night between the 18th and 19th of March, wherever barricades were being erected or repaired, the windows were illuminated. But the moment troops entered the street all was darkness. The soldiers hewed and sabred right and left in the houses which they entered, and showed mediæval brutality in their treatment of prisoners. Towards morning the arsenal of the Garde-Landwehr regiment was captured by the insurgents; they found that the locks of the guns had been destroyed, but all the smiths of the quarter set to work and repaired the damage.

At last, in the course of the morning, a royal proclamation headed _An meine lieben Berliner!_ was circulated, in which an attempt was made to explain the events of the day before as being the result of an unfortunate misunderstanding, "It had been necessary to clear the square in front of the Castle with cavalry, ordered to advance at a walking pace and with sheathed swords (_im Schritt und mit eingesteckter Waffe_); two infantry muskets had about this time gone off by accident, fortunately injuring no one; a company of evil-disposed individuals, chiefly strangers, had taken advantage of this unfortunate occurrence to stir up ideas of revenge in the minds of the excited crowd; the troops had used their weapons, but not until driven to do so by being repeatedly fired at. The King promises that the troops shall be withdrawn from Berlin, and concludes with the hope that both parties will forget what has happened."[11]

Meanwhile the struggle raged on with frightful exasperation on both sides. In treating with the deputations that waited on him on the morning of the 19th of March, the King attempted to make his promise of withdrawing the troops conditional on the dismantling of the barricades. But in the end everything was conceded--change of ministry, release of the prisoners taken during the night, and withdrawal of the troops. Amidst the shouts of the rejoicing crowd, to muffled beat of drum and Chorale-music, the soldiers were marched off to Potsdam, feeling that they had sustained a deadly insult at the hands of their royal commander-in-chief.

An enormous crowd thronged to the Castle, partly consisting of those who hoped by the force of numbers to exercise pressure on their vanquished rulers, partly of curious idlers; all the funeral processions from the streets where there had been fighting also made their way there. The corpses were borne on biers, or, where the numbers were too great, conveyed in open waggons, decorated with flowers, ribbons, and scarves, the corpses too being decked with flowers.

Every available space in the neighbourhood of the Castle was closely packed. The crowd demanded to see the King. With a pale face he stepped out on the balcony. "Set the prisoners free!" shouted the crowd, and he was actually obliged to order the release of all those who were confined in the cellars of the Castle. The next proceeding was the carrying of many of the most severely wounded insurrectionists into the Castle, where their wounds were dressed. Now the funeral processions began to arrive, a sight by which the crowd was thrown into a state of the wildest agitation. Whilst the corpses were being carried into one of the apartments on the first floor of the Castle, one orator after another addressed the people. The speech which met with most approval was one made by Karl Gutzkow, the refrain of which was "general arming of the citizens." This the newly appointed ministers, who were moving about among the crowd, vainly attempting to pacify them, were loth to concede, but they were soon compelled to do so, for a scene which occurred at this juncture made it impossible to resist the demands of the people.

A new funeral procession arrived--four corpses were borne on flower-decked biers through the crowd, their bloody wounds exposed to view for the purpose of rousing the beholders to revenge. The biers were deposited below the King's balcony, and the bearers raised a wild shout of "The King! The Queen!" which found a thousand-fold echo among the crowd. Two of the new ministers, Schwerin and Arnim, tried in vain to gain a hearing; their voices were drowned in the cry of "The King! The Queen!"

When the King and Queen actually appeared, on the balcony the people's frenzy knew no bounds. The King to speak, but the bearers held high the biers with their bloody burdens, and the crowd yelled "Off with your hat!" And as each corpse was carried past the King was obliged to uncover.[12] In Freiligrath's grand poem, _Die Todten an die Lebenden_, written in the following year, the year of disillusion, we read:

"Die Kugel mitten durch die Brust, die Stirne breit gespalten, So habt Ihr uns auf blutgem Brett hoch in die Luft gehalten! Hoch in die Luft mit wildem Schrei, das unsre Schmerzgeberde Den, der zu tödten uns befahl, ein Fluch auf ewig werde! Dass er sie sehe Tag und Nacht, im Wachen und im Traume-- Im Oeffnen seines Bibelbuchs und im Champagnerschaume! Dass wie ein Brandmal sie sich tief in seine Seele brenne: Dass nirgendwo und nimmermehr er vor ihr fliehen könne! Dass jeder qualverzogene Mund, dass jede rothe Wunde Ihn schrecke noch, ihn ängste noch in seiner letzten Stunde!"[13]

On the 21st of March, at noon, the King rode out at the Castle gate with a black, red, and gold band on his arm, and himself distributed black, red, and gold favours. He was followed by the royal princes and the Ministers, who were in despair at the humiliating proceeding; at his side rode a veterinary surgeon, Urban by name. One of his generals had in vain attempted to dissuade him from taking this step. He answered: "Non, non, c'est décidé, nous allons monter à cheval." Presently he drew rein and spoke as follows: "I am usurping no man's right when I declare that I believe myself called to be the saviour of the unity and liberty of Germany--that unity and liberty, based on a free constitution, I will defend with the aid of German loyalty." At the University he called for the professors and students, and said to them: "Schreiben Sie sich's auf, meine Herren! Write down my words to you, for they are for posterity. I place myself at the head of the German nation; with its unity and liberty the existence of Prussia is henceforth inseparably bound up. Write that down!" At the arsenal, when he was again pouring forth promises, a piercing voice suddenly cried: "Don't believe him, he is lying; he has always lied, and he is lying now. Tear me in pieces if you like, but I say he is lying--don't believe him!"

In Vienna, a few days later, the following poem appeared:

"PREUSSISCHE MISSVERSTAENDNISSE. Im grossen ungläubigen Altberlin sind nun die Wunder zu Hause, Da wird geschossen, gestürmt, gebrannt zwei Tage ohne Pause, Bis tausende liegen im rothen Sand. Den König betrübt die Wendniss: Die Flinten gingen von selber los. Das war nur ein Missverständniss.

Durch's grosse, ungläubige Altberlin gehn wunderbare Witze, Ein König hüllt sich in Schwarz-Roth-Gold und stellt sich an Deutschlands Spitze, Ein König wird Ober-Demagog mit deutsch einheitlicher Sendniss, Doch Deutschland lacht und ruft mit Macht: Das ist ein Missverständniss."[14]

Another poem that bears witness to the irritated, sarcastic feeling provoked by the events of these days is entitled _Erlkönig_, and begins:

"Wer schiesst noch so spät auf's Volk ohne Wehr? Es ist ein König mit seinem Heer. Er hält sein Volk so treu im Arm, Er fasst es so sicher mit seinen Gendarmes.

O Bürger, o Bürger, o hörest du nicht Was Erlkönig in der Zeitung verspricht," &c.

The Revolution of March in the capitals of Germany did not call forth any particularly fine poetical effusions; it gave rise chiefly to street songs, inflammatory and ephemeral verse; but the counter revolutions, the terrible re-capture of Vienna in October and of Berlin in November 1848, inspired a whole host of fine poems. The poets also found inspiration in the martyr deaths of individual liberationists, who either fell in fight or were murdered judicially after the suppression of the revolution. The insurrection of Hungary, too, with its suppression by the Russian army, awakened a sympathy which found expression in touching poems.

The enthusiastic ecstasy in Vienna was of short duration. The democrats did not consider the free constitution free enough. A central political committee was formed as a sort of check on the government. The existence of such a body was declared to be illegal, but popular pressure compelled the government to retract this declaration and to suspend the constitution. In the beginning of May the Emperor fled to Innsbruck. An attempt was made to disband the student brigade, but as this led to a renewal of barricade fighting, the ministry were obliged to desist. The Emperor returned in August. During all this time the capital was in a most excited state; the revolution had put a stop to every kind of business, and the want of employment increased discontent and restlessness. A deep impression was made by the intelligence of the events of June in Paris, Cavaignac's victory being regarded as equivalent to the suppression of the revolution in France. About the same time came the news that Jellatschitsch, the Ban of Croatia, was preparing to invade Hungary. Intercepted letters showed that in this proceeding he had the support of the Court of Vienna and of Latour, the Minister of War; and the consequence was that Count Lamberg, Latour's envoy, was torn to pieces by the mob on his arrival at Pesth (September 28), and Latour himself, having declared his intention of despatching troops to Hungary, was killed (October 7) by the enraged populace of Vienna. In his poem, _Der 7 Oktober_, which is a eulogy of the murdered man, Dingelstedt takes the opportunity to dissociate himself from the revolution and all its doings.

The Emperor now fled from Vienna for the second time. Whilst Radetzky suppressed the insurrection in Lombardy, Windischgrätz, who had been appointed commander-in-chief, surrounded the capital with his troops. In a struggle which lasted from the 24th to the 29th of October the outworks and outlying parts of the town were captured, and the city had already been driven by want of provisions and ammunition to agree to the unconditional capitulation demanded by Windischgrätz, when the cry was heard in the streets: "The Hungarians are coming." They had been seen from the tower of St. Stephen's Church. There was great rejoicing. The agreement to surrender was disregarded, the arms which had already been given up were again seized at the arsenals, and sorties were made to support the Hungarians, whose cannonading was now heard. But the Hungarian army was completely routed by Jellatschitsch. Windischgrätz entered Vienna on the 31st of October, followed by Jellatschitsch on the 2nd of November. A state of siege was proclaimed, and court-martials, sentences of death, and executions became the order of the day.

Simultaneously with the elections for the first German Parliament in Frankfort-on-Main, elections went on in Prussia for the Prussian Constitutional Assembly, which was opened by the King in May. This body numbered few eminent members, the best men having been sent to Frankfort. Berlin was in an almost anarchic condition; the arsenal was stormed and plundered, the political clubs terrorised and coerced the Assembly. It rejected the constitution proposed by the government as not sufficiently democratic. The result of this was a first change of ministry. The new ministry made proposals which coincided more closely with the wishes of the Assembly, but found themselves unable to agree to the demand of the majority that it should be made a point of honour with all officers who disapproved of the new constitution to leave the army. A third ministry, with Pfuel for its leader, was formed. On the last day of October, while the Assembly was debating an appeal to the government "to support, by every means in its power, the cause of popular liberty, at present endangered in Vienna," a mob broke in on the meeting, attempted to influence its decision by violent means, and insulted the Pfuel ministry. Then this ministry too resigned, and on the 2nd of November the King put the reins of government into the hands of a war ministry, with his step-uncle, Count Brandenburg, at its head. This new government decreed the transference of the Assembly from Berlin to Brandenburg, and brought the troops that had just returned from Denmark under General Wrangel to Berlin. The citizens were disarmed and a state of siege was proclaimed.

The revolutions of Vienna and Berlin had been fruitless; alike fruitless were the proceedings of the first German Parliament (Reichstag), which met at Frankfort on the 18th of May 1848, and was forcibly dispersed by troops at Stuttgart on the 18th of June 1849. The President it chose, Archduke John, did his best to subject it to the domination of Austria; it made a vain offer of the imperial crown of Germany to Frederick William IV. in April 1849; its sacred inviolability was disregarded as early as November 1848, when Windischgrätz ordered the execution of one of its members, Robert Blum, at Brigittenau; it lost importance as a representative assembly by the gradual desertion of its conservative members. When it was dispersed at Stuttgart, the reaction was once more triumphant throughout Europe:

"Da sah man die letzten der Getreuen, Die ausgeharrt beim Heiland, zerstreuen Sich, wandernd nach alien Seiten und Winden, Das Wort des Heiles zu verkünden, Wohl wissend, dass ein langes Exil Und Armuth, Noth und Dulden ihr Ziel, Und Qual und Tod und Kerkermauern. 'Das Wort des Heils wird sie überdauern' Das merkt euch, ihr Knechte und blutigen Horden: Das Wort ist Fleisch und ist Gott geworden.[15]

Thus sang Moritz Hartmann, one of the last of the faithful. He rightly felt that the ideas survived the outward changes.

By the end of 1848 the poets of the revolution had nothing left to sing of but fallen heroes and extinguished hopes. Among these poets Freiligrath and Hartmann rank highest, and as typical of the elegies written on the fallen heroes, we may take the verses composed by these two authors on Robert Blum, whose firm, gentle character, simplicity, and prudence, stamped him in the minds of his contemporaries as the ideal of a popular leader.

In his _Reimchronik_ Hartmann writes mournfully:

"So ruhe sanft und gut, mein Robert! Nicht braucht's der Wunsch, dass leicht dir werde Die blutgetränkte Wiener Erde, Der Boden, den du dir erobert. Du bist nicht todt, trotz aller Klage Des deutschen Volks, trotz aller Lieder. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ein Mythus geht: der Robert lebt, Der Robert Blum, den sie erschossen Und jedes deutsche Herz erbebt: Das theure Blut ist nicht geflossen-- Die Hoffnung raunt uns in die Ohren: Entflort, entflort die Trikoloren, Noch, noch ist Deutschland nicht verloren. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Allüberall ist der dabei! Er wendet mit den Geisterhänden Und fängt mit seiner Brust das Blei, Das uns die Fürstenväter senden. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Und wandeln muss er, bis entrafft Das deutsche Volk sich dem Verräther Bis er entfürstet und entpfafft Den heilgen Boden seiner Väter."[16]

And a week after Blum's death, Freiligrath writes the magnificent verses on the commemoration service in the Cathedral of Cologne, where the mighty organ pealed forth Neukomm's requiem music:

"Und heut in diesem selben Köln zum Weh'n des Winterwindes Und zu der Orgel Brausen schallt das Grablied dieses Kindes. Nicht singt die Ueberlebende, die Mutter, es dem Sohne: Das ganze schmerzbewegte Köln singt es mit festem Tone. Es spricht: Du, deren Schoos ihn trug, bleib still auf deinem Kammer! Vor deinem Gott, du graues Haupt, ausströme deinen Jammer; Auch ich bin seine Mutter, Weib! Ich und noch eine Hohe-- Ich und die Revolution, die hohe, lichterlohe! Bleib du daheim mit deinem Schmerz! wir wahren seine Ehre-- Des Robert Requiem singt Köln, die revolutionäre. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Was greift ihr zu den Schwertern nicht, Ihr Singer und Ihr Beter? Was werdet Ihr Posaunen nicht, Ihr ehr'nen Orgeltuben, Den jüngsten Tag ins Ohr zu schrein den Henkern und den Buben? Den Henkern, die ihn hingestreckt auf der Brigittenaue-- Auf festen Knien lag er da im ersten Morgenthaue! Dann sank er hin--hin in sein Blut--lautlos!--heut vor acht Tagen! Zwei Kugeln haben ihm die Brust, eine das Haupt zerschlagen."[17]

It is to Hartmann's _Reimchronik des Pfaffen Mauritius_ that we must have recourse if we desire to view all the successive events and impressions of 1848 in the mirror of poetry. Many of the details of this poem have become difficult to understand; the reader of to-day comes upon lists of names, of whose owners he knows little or nothing--men like Bassermann, the parliamentary debater, and Hansemann, the financier, in their day famous members of the Parliament of Frankfort, now forgotten--but from parts of it, without the assistance of any commentary, he gains a vivid impression of men's feelings, of their exalted frame of mind, in that year of revolution. Very affecting is a final outburst, in which the poet bewails the want of men:

"Ich seh' Gelehrte und Professoren Und Präsidenten und Assessoren, Weinküfer seh' ich und Redakteure Superintendenten und Accoucheure Und Börsenleute und Zeitungsschreiber, Astronomen und Steuereintreiber, Lumpenhändler und Alterthumskenner, Biedermänner, Hansemänner, Bassermänner-- Allein wo sind die _Männer_, die _Männer?_ "[18]

When Hartmann wrote these words he was living on the shores of the Lake of Geneva, a banished man, and the best men of Germany and Austria who had survived the great discomfiture were either in prison or, like himself, in exile.

1848 is a year of no decisive political significance, although it was in this year that the old order of things was for the first time disturbed simultaneously in almost every country of Europe. The local revolutions of 1789 and 1830, whatever they resulted in, were successful revolutions, but the general European revolution of 1848 was nothing in any single country but an unsuccessful attempt.

Yet 1848 is a year of great spiritual significance. After it men feel and think and write quite otherwise than they did before it. In literature it is the red line of separation that divides our century and marks the beginning of a new era. It was a year of jubilee, like that instituted by the old Hebrew law, that fiftieth year, in which the trumpet was to be sounded throughout all the land, which was to be hallowed, and in which liberty was to be proclaimed "throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof" (Lev. xxv. 8, &c). This year, with its quick heart-beat, its all-subduing youthful ardour, was, like that Bible year of jubilee, a year of returning into possession, a year of redemption, in which "they that had been sold were redeemed again." To this day we imbibe youthful enthusiasm from its days of March and learn important lessons from its days of November.

It is the year of jubilee, the year of mourning, the boundary year.

[1] 'Twas in the mountains the first shot was fired--in the mountains, against the priests! That shot loosened the avalanche--three countries sprang to arms! Switzerland can already rest on her laurels; the eternal mountains are trembling to their centres with joy.

The sport soon spread to Italy--Scylla and Charybdis, Vesuvius and Etna broke loose; explosion upon explosion, blow upon blow!' "This is becoming serious, my royal, my imperial brother!" is the message from Vienna to Berlin, from Berlin to Vienna; even Nick begins to tremble.

And now the paving-stones are once more torn up, the stones of those streets on to which ere now two kings have been ruthlessly flung by armed liberty.

[2] In front of the castle in threatening line stand the cannon, awaiting the word of command--the gates are shuddering and yielding--the moment has come, brave gunner!

Forward to the muzzle he goes, as if the order had been to stop the mouths of the destroyers; fearlessly he cries: "First me, then the defenceless citizen!"--No farther command is given. Thou hast shamed them! All thanks to thee, brave gunner!

[3] Frhr. von Helfert: _Wiener Parnass im Jahre_ 1848.

[4] The press is free! Peal the bells! sound the glad tidings far and wide! Proclaim to the farthest-off of Germany's sons: The press is free, the ramparts of liberty are stormed!

[5] All hail to thee, my Emperor! Full of joy in their accomplished work, thy people greet thee, whom they have always known to be of noble mind.