out.  Martial law will be proclaimed over there today.  My friend Schramm has been arrested.  That Rob.  Blum, Froebel, Messenhauser, have been shot in Vienna, you already know from the newspapers.  Good-by, you angel; I must close.  Many remembrances to all.  The peasants of the neighborhood have declared to the King that if he has need of them he should just call them:  that they would come with weapons and supplies to aid his troops, from the Zauch-Belzig-Teltow, the Havelland, and other districts.  Mention that in Schoenhausen, please, so that it may go the rounds.

Your v.B.

Potsdam, Thursday Morning, November 16, ’48.

Dear Nanne!—­I did not get your very dear, nice letter of Tuesday morning until yesterday afternoon, but none the less did I right fervently rejoice and take comfort in it, because you are well, at least in your way, and are fond of me.  There is no news from here except that Potsdam and Berlin are as quiet as under the former King, and the surrender of arms in B. continues without interruption, with searching of houses, etc.  It is possible that there may be scenes of violence incidentally—­the troops secretly long for them—­but on the whole the “passive resistance” of the democrats seems to me only a seasonable expression for what is usually called fear.  Yesterday I dined with the King.  The Queen was amiable in the English fashion.  The enclosed twig of erica I picked from her sewing-table, and send it to keep you from being jealous. * * *

If a letter from the Stettin bank has arrived, send it to me immediately, please, marked, “To be delivered promptly.”  If I do not receive it before day after tomorrow, I shall return home, but must then go to Stettin at the beginning of next week.  So let horses be sent for me on Saturday afternoon; this evening I unfortunately cannot go to Genthin, because I expect Manteuffel here. * * *

The democrats are working all their schemes in order to represent the opinion of the “people” as hostile to the King; hundreds of feigned signatures.  Please ask the town-councillor whether there are not some sensible people in Magdeburg, who care more for their neck, with quiet and good order, than for this outcry of street politicians, and who will send the King a counter-address from Magdeburg.  I must close.  Give my best regards to mamma, and kiss the little one for me on the left eye.  Day after tomorrow, then, if I do not get the Stettin letter sooner.  Good-by, my sweet angel.  Yours forever, v.B.  Schoenhausen, July 18, ’49.

My Pet,—­ * * * I wanted to write you in the evening, but the air was so heavenly that I sat for two hours or so on the bench in front of the garden-house, smoked and looked at the bats flying, just as with you two years ago, my darling, before we started on our trip.  The trees stood so still and high near me, the air fragrant with linden blossoms; in the garden a quail whistled and partridges allured,