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The English Queen and the Prince-Consort were received with all possible royal honors and popular respect at Aix-la-Chapelle and Cologne, and at the Royal Palace at Bruehl. It was past midnight when they reached that welcome resting-place, and yet, as an account before me states, they were regaled by a military serenade "in which seven hundred performers were engaged!"
"What papers did you receive with your prisoner, Colonel Bernhard?" he said. "None, your Majesty except a despatch from your Majesty's Minister of War, delivered a day or two before the prisoner arrived at Bruehl." "How did he come? and where did he come from?"
The King then asked if there was any scientific man in Bruehl capable of analysing the liquid; to which my father replied that no such person could be found nearer than Cologne or Bonn. Hereupon a dog was brought in from the stables, and, having been made to swallow about a quarter of a pint of the Seltzer-water, was presently taken with convulsions, and died on the spot.
In 1819, being no longer fit for active service, he retired on a pension, and was appointed King's steward of the Chateau of Augustenburg at Bruehl a sort of military curatorship to which few duties and certain contingent emoluments were attached.
The stranger here said something that my ear failed to catch. Then my father spoke again. "To tell you the truth, Herr Count, I only wish it would please His Excellency to transfer him elsewhere." The stranger paused a moment, and then said in a low but very distinct voice: "Supposing, Colonel Bernhard, that you were yourself transferred shall we say to Koenigsberg? Would you prefer it to Bruehl?"
I am not aware that anything more was ever seen or heard of him; or that any active search for him was judicially instituted either then, or at any other time. But he might easily have been pursued, and taken, and dealt with according to the law, without our being any the wiser at Bruehl.
I don't understand it I don't understand it. Thunder and Mars! Why don't we hand him over to the French Government? That's what puzzles me." The severity of the Winter had, I think, in some degree abated, and the snowdrops were already above ground, when again a mounted orderly rode in from Cologne, bringing another official letter for the Governor of Bruehl.
Gardens and terraces were ablaze once more with many-coloured flowers; fountains played and sparkled in the sunshine; and travellers bound for Cologne or Bonn put up again at Bruehl in the midst of the day's journey, to bait their horses and see the Chateau on their way. For in these years just following the Peace of Paris, the Continent was overrun by travellers, two thirds of whom were English.
And then the long avenues and all the woods of Bruehl put on their Autumn robes of crimson, and flame-colour, and golden brown; and the berries reddened in the hedges; and the Autumn burned itself away like a gorgeous sunset; and November came in grey and cold, like the night-time of the year. I was so happy, however, that I enjoyed even the dull November.
I was then between nine and ten years of age having lost my mother in earliest infancy, and lived with aunt Martha Baur ever since I could remember. The change from Nuremberg to Bruehl was for me like the transition from Purgatory to Paradise. I enjoyed for the first time all the delights of liberty.
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