The memory of those March days of 1848 is impressed on my soul in ineffaceable characters.  More beautiful weather I never knew.  It seemed as if May had taken the place of its stormy predecessor.  From the 13th the sun shone constantly from a cloudless sky, and on the 18th the fruit-trees in our garden were in full bloom.  Whoever was not kept in the house by duty or sickness was eager to be out.  The public gardens were filled by afternoon, and whoever wanted to address the people had no need to call an audience together.  Whatever rancour, indignation, discontent, and sorrow had lurked under ground now came forth, and the buds of longing and joyful expectation hourly unfolded in greater strength and fuller bloom.

The news of the Paris revolution, whose confirmation had reached Berlin in the last few days of February, had caused all this growth and blossoming like sunshine and warm rain.  There was no repressing it, and the authorities felt daily more and more that their old measures of restraint were failing.

The accounts from Paris were accompanied by report after report from the rest of Germany, shaking the old structure of absolutism like the repeated shocks of a battering-ram.

Freedom of the press was not yet granted, but tongues had begun to move freely-indeed, often without any restraint.  As early as the 7th of March, and in bad weather, too, meetings began to be held in tents.  As soon as the fine spring days came we found great crowds listening to bearded orators, who told them of the revolution in Paris and of the addresses to the king—­how they had passed hither and thither, and how they had been received.  They had all contained very much the same demands—­freedom of the press, representatives of the people to be chosen by free election, all religious confessions to be placed on an equal footing in the exercise of political rights, and representation of the people in the German Confederacy.

These demands were discussed with fiery zeal, and the royal promise, just given, of calling together the Assembly again and issuing a law on the press, after the Confederate Diet should have been moved to a similar measure, was condemned in strong terms as an insufficient and half-way procedure—­a payment on account, in order to gain time.

On the 15th the particulars of the Vienna revolution and Metternich’s flight reached Berlin; and we, too, learned the news, and heard our mother and her friends asking anxiously, “How will this end?”

Unspeakable excitement had taken possession of young and old—­at home, in the street, and at school—­for blood had already flowed in the city.  On the 13th, cavalry had dispersed a crowd in the vicinity of the palace, and the same thing was repeated on the two following days.  Fortunately, few were injured; but rumour, ever ready to increase and enhance the horrible desire of many fanatics to stir up the fire of discontent, had conspired to make wounded men dead ones, and slight injuries severe.