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The Story of My Life — Volume 03
The Story of My Life — Volume 03
The Story of My Life — Volume 03
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The Story of My Life — Volume 03

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Release dateNov 27, 2013
The Story of My Life — Volume 03
Author

Georg Ebers

Georg Moritz Ebers (Berlin, March 1, 1837 – Tutzing, Bavaria, August 7, 1898), German Egyptologist and novelist, discovered the Egyptian medical papyrus, of ca. 1550 BCE, named for him (see Ebers Papyrus) at Luxor (Thebes) in the winter of 1873–74. Now in the Library of the University of Leipzig, the Ebers Papyrus is among the most important ancient Egyptian medical papyri. It is one of two of the oldest preserved medical documents anywhere—the other being the Edwin Smith Papyrus (ca. 1600 BCE).Ebers early conceived the idea of popularising Egyptian lore by means of historical romances. Many of his books have been translated into English. For his life, see his "The Story of My Life" — "Die Geschichte meines Lebens". (Wikipedia)

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    The Story of My Life — Volume 03 - Georg Ebers

    The Project Gutenberg EBook The Story of My Life, by Georg Ebers, v3 #156 in our series by Georg Ebers

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    **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

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    Title: The Story of My Life, Volume 3.

    Author: Georg Ebers

    Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5595] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on August 24, 2002]

    Edition: 10

    Language: English

    *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORY OF MY LIFE, BY EBERS, V3***

    This eBook was produced by David Widger

    [NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. D.W.]

    THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF GEORG EBERS

    THE STORY OF MY LIFE FROM CHILDHOOD TO MANHOOD

    Volume 3.

    CHAPTER X.

    AFTER THE NIGHT OF REVOLUTION.

    When we rose the next morning the firing was over. It was said that all was quiet, and we had the well-known proclamation, To my dear people of Berlin. The horrors of the past night appeared, indeed, to have been the result of an unfortunate mistake. The king himself explained that the two shots by the troops, which had been taken for the signal to attack the people, were from muskets which had gone off by some unlucky accident—thank God, without injuring any one.

    He closed with the words: Listen to the paternal voice of your king, residents of my loyal and beautiful Berlin; forget what has occurred, as I will forget it with all my heart, for the sake of the great future which, by the blessing of God, will dawn for Prussia, and, through Prussia, for Germany. Your affectionate queen and faithful mother, who is very ill, joins her heart-felt and tearful entreaties to mine.

    The king also pledged his royal word that the troops would be withdrawn as soon as the Berlin people were ready for peace and removed the barricades.

    So peace seemed restored, for there had been no fighting for hours, and we heard that the troops were already withdrawing.

    Our departure for Dresden was out of the question—railway communication had ceased. The bells which had sounded the tocsin all night with their brazen tongues seemed, after such furious exertion, to have no strength for summoning worshippers to church. All the houses of God were closed that Sunday.

    Our longing to get out of doors grew to impatience, which was destined to be satisfied, for our mother had a violent headache, and we were sent to get her usual medicine. We reached the Ring pharmacy—a little house in the Potsdam Platz occupied by the well-known writer, Max Ring—in a very few minutes. We performed our errand with the utmost care, gave the medicine to the cook on our return, and hurried off into the city.

    When we had left the Mauer- and Friedrichstrasse behind, our hearts began to beat faster, and what we saw on the rest of the way through the longest street of Berlin as far as the Linden was of such a nature that the mere thought of it awakens in me to this day an ardent hope that I may never witness such sights again.

    Rage, hate, and destruction had celebrated the maddest orgies on our path, and Death, with passionate vehemence, had swung his sharpest scythe. Wild savagery and merciless destruction had blended with the shrewdest deliberation and skillful knowledge in constructing the bars which the German, avoiding his own good familiar word, called barricades. An elderly gentleman who was explaining their construction, pointed out to us the ingenuity with which some of the barricades had been strengthened for defence on the one side, and left comparatively weak on the other. Every trench dug where the

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