The merchant of Berlin

Introduction

Berlin had already lain open to the armies of Frederick’s enemies after his defeat at Kunnersdorf, on August 12, 1759, by the combined Austrian and Russian forces, but a difference of opinion between Daun and the Russian commander Soltikow had resulted in the latter’s retreat to Silesia, leaving the Austrians to invade Saxony and capture Dresden. The author made clever use of this misunderstanding between the two commanders in the twelfth chapter of “ Frederick the Great and his Family.” But Fortune hid her face from the Prussian king in the following year. Although she smiled on him at the battle of Liegnitz, where, with an army of but thirty-five thousand men, he defeated the Austrian forces numbering ninety-five thousand, he could not prevent the sudden march upon Berlin that followed — by the Russian army from the Oder, and the Austrians and Saxons from Lusatia. After a defence of a few days the capital surrendered. In the sack of the city that followed, the Russian barbarians were largely restrained by their commanders, but the Austrians and Saxons plundered and outraged their brother Germans with inconceivable cruelty. The palace of Charlottenburg was ravaged by the Saxon troops, and the city was forced to pay a war tax of seventeen hun-

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dred thousand thalers. As stated before, the mere rumor of Frederick’s approach sufficed to send the enemy hastily retreating from the field of victory, which was revenged, in a sense, by the Prussian success at Torgau. But the year closed with the Austrians in possession of Dresden and Glatz, and the French of Cassel and Gottingen. The death of George II. deprived Frederick of his annual English subsidy of four million thalers, and he sought alliances in Turkey and among the Cossack and Tartar leaders. The arrival and reception of Mustapha Aga, the ambassador of the Khan of Tartary, as the reader will remember, are picturesquely described in the sixteenth chapter of Frederick and his Family.

J ohn Gotzkowsky, the “ Merchant of Berlin,” is an almost forgotten historical character. His rise from poverty to great wealth had been made possible by the policy of protection to native industry and commerce begun by the Great Elector and continued by the eccentric Frederick William I — a policy that Frederick, notwithstanding his admiration for everything French, had warmly supported and advanced. Gotzkowsky not only enriched himself by his vast enterprises; he became one of the pioneers of German commerce and industry, one of the fathers of the great edifice of trade and manufacture that in these days sends its products to the farthest ends of the world, and has of recent years given rise to the many discussions and warnings that have been epitomized under the comprehensive title of “ made in Germany.”

Gotzkowsky’s suppressed autobiography forms the basis of this romance. The author’s imagination, as always, has followed the facts of history without feeling their limitations as fetters upon her talent. More than

INTRODUCTION.

V in any other of her books, almost, does she display here her gift of intuition, which enables her to recall to life, by the light of history, the men and women of the time as they must have been, to reconstruct their characters from what is known, and to present their pictures, lifelike and with the ever-fresh colors of eternal history, in the framing of their day and generation. She introduces not only the city fathers and the military council — Yon Rochow, Lehwald, Seidlitz, and Knoblauch, four names famous in the annals of Prussia — but also the common people, with its alternating attacks of patriotism and fear, the mob with its uncertain temper and mysterious liability to panics. A sketch of the Berlin of that day would be incomplete without a glimpse at its journals, therefore the Yossische Zeitung and its editor, Kretschmer, have been introduced and assigned to their place, so far as their attitude toward the crisis and their comments thereon are concerned. The Russian and Austrian commanders are painted in their good and bad colors, as the vanquished knew them; and the unavailing patriotism of Grotzkowsky, his sacrifices, and the black ingratitude of his fellow-citizens are woven into a laurel-wreath on his almost forgotten grave.

Considered merely as literature, without regard to its historical value, “ The Merchant of Berlin 99 stands high among Louisa Muhlbach's works. The plot is well conceived and consistently worked out; the action is rapid, straightforward, and dramatic; the background, crowded with important figures, does not confuse the outlines of the principal characters; and these characters, as already said, have been drawn with an unerring hand. The story of the Seven Years' War as told by the author ends fittingly with this episode; it is a vi THE MERCHANT OF BERLIN.

strong climax preceding the last volume devoted entirely to Frederick, wherein he is shown in the zenith of his glory, called by his people not merely Frederick the Great, but “ der Einzige ” — the Only Frederick.

Chap. I. — The Festival, ...... 5 II. — The Workman’s Holiday, . . . 17

III. — Brother and Sister, . . . . .24

IV. — Feodor von Brenda, . . . . 31

V. — Mr. Kretschmer, of the “ Vossian Gazette,” . 38

VI. — The Cowards’ Race, .... 46

VII. — The Interrupted Festival, . . . .51

VIII. — The Leader of the People, ... 57

IX. — The Russian is at the Gates, . . . .62

X. — Be Prudent, ..... 66

XI. — The Night of Horrors, . . . .73

XII. — Russians and Austrians, .... 80

XIII. — A Maiden’s Heart, . . . . .87

XIV. — A Faithful Friend, .... 98

XV. — An Unexpected Meeting, .... 102

XVI. — The Fugitive, . . . . .109

XVII. — The Eavesdropper, . . . . .114

XVIII. — The Two Cannoneers, . . . .119

XIX. — Father Gotzkowsky, ..... 127

Book II

Chap. I. — The Two Editors, ..... 135

II.— The Chief Magistrate of Berlin, . . 143

III. — The Russian, the Saxon, and the Austrian, in

Berlin, 150

V. — The Explosion, ..... 164

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CONTENTS.

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PAGE

VI— John Gotzkowsky, . . . . .176

VII.— The Horrors of War, .... 181

VIII.— By Chance, 190

IX. — Mistress or Maid ? 197

X. — An Unexpected Ally, .... 207

XI. — The Jew Ephraim, .... 215

XII. — The Russian General and the German Man, . 222

XIII. — The Execution, 240

XIV. — Bride and Daughter, .... 247

XV.— The Rivals, 258

XVI.— The Punishment, 264

XVII. — The Banquet of Gratitude, . . . 271

XVIII.— A Royal Letter, 278

Book III

Chap. I. — Frederick the Great at Meissen, . . . 284

II. — The Winter-quarters in Leipsic, . . 302

III. — The Friend in Need, ..... 305

IV. — Gratitude and Recompense, . . . 314

V. — Four Years’ Labor, ..... 317

VI.— Days of Misfortune, . . .320

VII.— Confessions, 329

VIII. — The Russian Prince, .... 334

IX. — Old Love — New Sorrow, .... 342

X. — The Magistracy of Berlin, . . . 354

XI.— The Jews of the Mint, . . . .362

XII. — The Leipsic Merchant, .... 366

XIII. — Ephraim the Tempter, .... 372

XIV. — Elise, 382

XV.— The Rescue, 392

XVI.— Retribution, 397

XVII.— Tardy Gratitude, 401

XVIII.— The Auction, 408

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Chapter I. The Festival

The sufferings of the long war still continued; still stood Frederick the Great with his army in the field; the tremendous struggle between Prussia and Austria was yet undecided, and Silesia was still the apple of discord for which Maria Theresa and Frederick II. had been striving for years, and for which, in so many battles, the blood of German brothers had been spilt.

Everywhere joy seemed extinguished; the light jest was hushed; each one looked silently into the future, and none could tell in whose favor this great contest would finally be decided, whether Austria or Prussia would be victorious.

The year 1760, the fifth of the war, was particularly sad for Prussia; it was marked in the history of Germany with tears and blood. Even Berlin which, up to that time, had suffered but little from the unhappy calamities of war, assumed now an earnest, mournful aspect, and it seemed as if the bright humor and sarcastic wit which had always characterized the inhabitants of this good city had now entirely deserted them. Going through the wide and almost empty streets there were to be met only sad countenances, women clothed in black

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who mourned their husbands or sons fallen in one of the many battles of this war, or mothers who were looking with anxiety into the future and thinking of their distant sons who had gone to the army.

Here and there was seen some wounded soldier wearily dragging himself along the street, but hearty, healthy men were seldom to be met, and still more seldom was seen the fresh countenance of youth.

Berlin had been obliged to send not only her men and youths, but also her hoys of fourteen years to the army, which, according to the confession of Frederick the Great, consisted, in the campaign of the year 1760, only of renegades, marauders, and beardless hoys.

For these reasons it seemed the more strange to hear at this time issuing from one of the largest and handsomest houses on the Leipsic Street the unwonted sounds of merry dance-music, cheerful singing and shouting, which reached the street.

The passers-hy stopped and looked with curiosity up to the windows, at which could he seen occasionally a flushed joyous man’s face or pretty woman’s head. But the men who were visible through the panes evidently did not belong to the genteeler classes of society; their faces were sunburnt, their hair hung down carelessly and unpowdered upon the coarse and unfashionable cloth coat, and the attire of the maidens had little in common with the elegance and fashion of the day.

“ The rich Gotzkowsky gives a great feast to his workmen to-day,” remarked the people in the street to one another; and as they passed on they envied with a sigh those who were able at the same time to enjoy a merry day in the rich and brilliant halls of the great manufacturer, and admire the splendor of the rich man’s house.

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The mansion of Gotzkowsky was indeed one of the handsomest and most magnificent in all Berlin, and its owner was one of the richest men of this city, then, despite the war, so wealthy and thriving. But it was not the splendor of the furniture, of the costly silver ware, of the Gobelin tapestry and Turkish carpets which distinguished this house from all others. In these respects others could equal the rich merchant, or even surpass him.

But Gotzkowsky possessed noble treasures of art, costly paintings, which princes and even kings might have envied. Several times had he travelled to Italy by commission from the king to purchase paintings, and the handsomest pieces in the Royal Gallery had been brought from the land of art by Gotzkowsky. But the last time he returned from Italy the war of 1756 had broken out, and the king could then spare no money for the purchase of paintings: he needed it all for his army. Therefore Gotzkowsky was obliged to keep for himself the splendid originals of Raphael, Rubens, and other great masters which he had purchased at enormous prices, and the wealthy manufacturer was just the one able to afford himself the luxury of a picture gallery.

The homely artisans and workmen who this day had dined in Gotzkowsky’s halls felt somewhat constrained and uncomfortable, and their countenances did not wear a free, joyous expression until they had risen from table, and the announcement was made that the festival would continue in the large garden immediately adjacent to the house, to which they at once repaired to enjoy cheerful games and steaming coffee.

Bertram, Gotzkowsky’s head book-keeper, had been commissioned by him to lead the company, consisting of more than two hundred persons, into the garden, where

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Gotzkowsky would follow them, having first gone in search of his daughter.

With lively conversation and hearty laugh the people retired, the halls were emptied, and now the deep silence of these state-apartments was only interrupted by the gentle ticking of the large clock which stood over the sofa on its handsomely ornamented stand.

When Gotzkowsky found himself at last alone, he breathed as if relieved. The quiet seemed to do him good. He sank down into one of the large chairs covered with gold-embroidered velvet, and gazed earnestly and thoughtfully before him. The expression of his countenance was anxious, and his large dark eyes were not as clear and brilliant as usual.

John Gotzkowsky was still a handsome man, despite his fifty years; his noble intellectual countenance, his tall proud figure, his full black hair, which, contrary to the custom of that period, he wore unpowdered, made an imposing and at the same time pleasing impression.

And certainly it was not because of his personal appearance that Gotzkowsky, notwithstanding the early death of his wife, had never contracted a second marriage, hut had preferred to remain a solitary widower. Nor did this occur from indifference or coldness of heart, hut solely from the love for that little, helpless, loveneeding being, whose birth had cost his young wife her life, to whom he had vowed at the bedside of her dead mother to stand in stead of that mother, and never to make her bend under the harsh rule of a step-mother. Gotzkowsky had faithfully fulfilled his vow; he had concentrated all his love on his daughter, who under his careful supervision had increased in strength and beauty, so that with the pride and joy of a father he now styled her the handsomest jewel of his house.

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Where then was this daughter whom he loved so dearly? Why was she not near him to smile away the wrinkles from his brow, to drive with light chat serious and gloomy thoughts from his mind? She it was, doubtless, whom his wandering glance sought in these vast, silent rooms; and finding her not, and yearning in vain for her sweet smiles, her rosy cheeks, he sighed.

Where was she then?

Like her father, Gotzkowsky’s daughter sat alone in her room — her gaze, as his, fixed upon empty space. The sad, melancholy expression of her face, scarcely tinged with a delicate blush, contrasted strangely with her splendid dress, her mournful look with the full wreath of roses which adorned her hair.

Elise was the daughter of the wealthiest man in Berlin, the world proclaimed her the handsomest maiden, and yet there she sat solitary in her beautiful chamber, her eyes clouded with tears. Of a sudden she drew a golden case from her bosom and pressed it with deep feeling to her lips. Looking timidly at the door she seemed to listen; convinced that no one approached, she pressed a hidden spring of the medallion; the golden cover flew open and disclosed the portrait of a handsome man in Russian uniform.

The young girl contemplated this portrait with a strange mixture of delight and melancholy, and then, completely overpowered by its aspect, she approached it to her lips. “ Feodor! ” murmured she, so softly that it sounded almost like a sigh, and stretching out the hand which held the medallion, in order to he able better to contemplate the picture, she continued—

“ Feodor, why did we meet, to be separated forever again? Why did not Fate allow me to he horn as a poor serf upon one of thy estates, giving to thee the right to

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possess me, to me the sweet duty of loving thee? 0 Heaven, why art thou an enemy of my country, or why am I a German? Men call me happy; they envy me my father’s wealth; they know not how wretched and forsaken I am.”

She bowed her head upon her breast and wept bitterly. Suddenly steps were heard quite close to her door. She started, and concealed the medallion quickly in her breast. “ My father,” murmured she, and drying her tears she arose to open the door. She was right, it was her father. He held out his hand to her. She took it and pressed it to her lips respectfully, but she did not see the look of almost passionate tenderness with which he regarded her, for she had cast down her eyes and did not dare to look at him.

“ I have come, Elise, to lead you to our garden festival. You will go with me, my child? ”

“ I am ready,” said she, taking her hat and shawl.

“ But why in such a hurry, my child?” asked her father. “Let us leave these good people yet a little while to themselves. We will still be in time to witness their games. I would like to stay a quarter of an hour with you, Elise.”

Without answering, she rolled an arm-chair to the window, and laid aside her hat and shawl.

“ It is very seldom, father, that you make me such a present,” said she.

“ What present, my child? ”

“ A quarter of an hour of your life, father.”

“You are right,” said he, thoughtfully. “I have little time for pleasure, but I think so much the more of you.”

She shook her head gently.

“ Ho,” said she, “ you have no time to think of me.

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You are too busy. Hundreds of men claim your attention. How could you have time, father, to think of your daughter ? ”

Gotzkowsky drew a dark-red case from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

“Look, Elise! see if I have not thought of you. To-day is your birthday, and I have celebrated it as I have done every year by giving my workmen a festival, and endowing a poor bridal pair who on this day become betrothed. Their prayers and tears constitute the most beautiful thank-offering to you, and being happy they bless you, the authoress of their happiness. But how is this? You have not yet opened the case. Are you so little like other girls that diamonds cause you no pleasure?”

She opened the case, and contemplated the jewels with weary looks and scarcely concealed indifference.

“ How wonderfully they shine and sparkle, and what tempting promises their brilliant colors hold forth! But this is a princely present, father; your^ poor Elise it not worthy to wear this diadem and collar.”

« Oh, you are worthy to wear a crown! ” cried her father with tender pride. “ And let me tell you, my child, you have only to choose whether you will place on • this beautiful hair an earl’s coronet or a prince’s diadem. And this, my child, is the reason of my visit to-day.”

“ On business,” murmured she, almost inaudibly, with a bitter smile.

Gotzkowsky continued —

“ Young Count Saldem applied to me yesterday for your hand.”

“Count Saldem?” asked Elise. “I hardly know him. I have only spoken to him twice in the saloon of Countess Herzberg.”

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“ That does not prevent him from loving you ardently/’ said Gotzkowsky, with scarcely perceptible irony. “ Yes, Elise, he loves you so ardently that he would overcome all obstacles of rank and make you a genuine countess, if I will only promise to endow you with half a million.”

The habitually pale countenance of Elise suddenly assumed life and color. She drew herself up and threw her head proudly back.

“ Do you wish to sell me, father? Do you wish to give some value to this noble nonentity by the present of half a million, and will his lordship be kind enough in return to take the trifling burden of my person into the bargain? ”

Her father gazed at her glowing countenance with eyes beaming with joy; but he quickly suppressed this emotion, and reassumed a serious air.

“Yes,” he said, “the good count, in consideration of half a million, will consent to raise the manufacturer’s daughter to the rank of a countess. But for a whole million we can obtain still more; we can rise yet higher in the scale. If I will advance his uncle. Prince Saldem, half a million to redeem his mortgaged estates, the prince promises to adopt the nephew, your suitor, as his son. You would then be a princess, Elise, and I would have the proud satisfaction of calling a prince my son.”

“ As if the king would consent to a nobleman thus demeaning himself!” cried Elise; “as if he would graciously allow the count so far to degrade himself! ”

“ Oh, the king will consent,” continued her father in a light tone. “You know that he is fond of me. Only say whether you consent to become Countess Saldem.”

“Never!” cried she proudly. “I am no chattel to

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be bartered, and this miserable title of princess has no charms for me. You can command me, father, to renounce the man I love, but you can never compel me to give mv hand to a man I do not love, were he even a king! ”

Her father clasped her vehemently in his arms.

“ That is blood of my blood, and spirit of my spirit,” cried he. “ You are right, my child, to despise honors and titles; they are empty tinsel, and no one believes in them any longer. We stand at the portal of a new era, and this era will erect new palaces and create new princes; but you, my child, will be one of the first princesses of this new era. Manufactories will be the new palaces, and manufacturers the new princes. Instead of the sword, money will rule the world, and men will bow down before manufacturers and merchants as they are wont to do before generals. Therefore I say you are right in refusing Prince Saldem’s offer, for I promise you, you shall be a princess, even without the title, and the great and noble shall bow as low before your riches as if they were a ducal diadem.”

Elise shook her head with a melancholy smile: “ I have no desire for such homage, and I despise the base metal with which you can buy everything.”

“ Despise it not! ” cried her father, “ prize it rather! Gold is a holy power; it is the magic wand of Moses which caused springs to gush forth from the sterile rock. See, my child — I, who despise all the rank and honors which the world can offer me, I tell you gold is the only thing for which I have any respect. But a man must perceive and understand the secret of this magic power. He who strives for wealth only to possess it is a heartless fool, and his fate will be that of Midas he will starve in the midst of his treasures. But he who 2

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strives for wealth for the purpose of giving , he will discover that money is the fountain of happiness; and in his hands the dead metal is transformed into a living blessing. Yon may believe your father, who knows the world, and who has drunk the bitter cup of poverty ”

“ You were once poor? ” asked Elise, looking at her father with astonishment.

Gotzkowsky smiled, and sank back in his chair, musing and silent. After a pause he resumed: “ Yes, I was poor. I have endured all the horrors of poverty. I have hungered and thirsted, suffered misery and privation, even as a little boy. Thus lay I once, wretched and forsaken, in a ditch by the highway, and raised my hands to God on high, praying but for a drop of water, but for a morsel of bread. Ah! so strong was the belief of the goodness of God in my heart, that I was convinced He would open the heavens, and reach to me with His own hand the food for which I prayed. I waited and waited, in despairing anxiety, but the heavens were not opened, and not even a drop of rain came to cool my parched lips. But the cloud, which I had looked for in vain in the sky, was seen at last on the highway, and, as I saw this whirling cloud of dust, in the midst of which a splendid equipage came rolling on, I said to myself: ‘ Here comes God! ? and then I found strength enough to raise myself from my knees, to hurry toward the rapidly passing vehicle, and to cry with a voice which was almost overpowered by the noise of the wheels, ‘ Pity! pity! give me a morsel of bread, a drop of water! Have pity on me! ? A hand was stretched toward me out of the cloud of dust, and I saw a small, brightly shining object drop. The carriage rolled on, and disappeared in its cloud. But I sank on my knees and searched the dust for the piece of money, for in this coin lay for

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me life, health, and strength. I was obliged to hunt in the dust for a long time with hands tremulous with anxiety, and finally, when I found it, I rejoiced aloud and thanked God. Then I hurried with fleet steps toward the neighboring town, to the same baker’s shop near the gate, where, shortly before, they had refused to my entreaties a bit of bread. Now, willingly and with smiles, they handed me a loaf, for I had money to pay for it. In that hour I said to myself: ‘ I must seek money, even if I have to grovel in the dust for it; for money is life, and poverty is death!’ The hand which, from the cloud of dust threw me that piece of money, decided my whole future, for it taught me that even dust was not to he despised, as therein money might be found; hut it taught me something more — it taught me compassion and charity. Then, as I crouched down with bleeding feet at the street-corner and devoured my loaf, I vowed to myself that I would become rich, and when I had grown rich, to be to each poor and needy one the helping hand stretched forth out of the cloud of dust.”

Elise had listened to her father with deep emotion, and in the depth of her heart she at this moment absolved him from many a silent reproach, and many a suspicion, which her soul had harbored against him.

“ You have kept your word, my father! ” cried she. “How did you contrive to become a rich man from a beggar? ”

Gotzkowsky laughed. “ How did I contrive that? ” said he. “ I worked, that is the whole secret— worked from sunrise until late in the night, and by work alone have I become what I am. But no, I had one friend who often helped me with his sympathy and valuable counsel. This friend was the king. He protected me against my malicious enemies, who envied me every little

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piece of fortune. He cheered me on. Frederick’s eye rested on me with pleasure, and he was delighted to see my manufactories thrive and increase. The king’s satisfaction was for many years the only spur to my exertions, and when he looked on me with smiling benevolence, it seemed to me as if a sunbeam of fortune shone from his large blue eyes into my heart. I have learned to love the king as a man, and because I love mankind I love the king. It is said that he likes the French better than he does us, and prefers every thing that comes from them; but, indeed, he was the first to supply his wants from my manufactories, and in that way to encourage me to new undertakings.* Mankind, in general, do not like to see others favored by fortune in their enterprises, and they hate him who succeeds where they have failed. I have experienced that often in life. I knew that men hated me because I was more fortunate than they were, and yet I saw how they cringed before me, and flattered me. Oh, my child, how many bitter and painful experiences do I not owe to my wealth! In wealth lies Wisdom, if one would only listen to her. It has humbled and subdued me, for I said to myself, 'How quickly would all these men who now surround me with attention and flattery, disappear if I became suddenly poor! ’ These princes and counts, who now invite me as a guest to their tables, would no longer know me if I appeared before them as a poor man. Wealth is rank and worth; and no prince’s title, no star of honor, shines so brightly as golden coin. But we must learn how to use it> and

* “ Gotzkowsky founded the first large velvet and silk manufactories in Berlin. He was also the first to attend the Leipsic fair with domestic goods, and thus open the commerce with Poland and Russia.”— History of a Patriotic Merchant of Berlin. 1768. nacres 10-12. b

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not convert the means of fortune into the end. We must also learn to despise men, and yet to love mankind. My philosophy may he condensed into a few sentences. Strive for gold; not to take, hut to give. Be kind and faithful to all men; most faithful, however, to thyself, thy honor, and thy country.”