"I have allowed England to deceive me a long while," exclaimed
Alexander, vehemently; "for I once regarded that nation of traders as a
nation of men, heroes, and profound diplomatists. But I was terribly
undeceived. Those selfish shop-keepers amused me with fair but false
promises; they care neither for my welfare nor for that of Europe, but
only for their commerce. The egotism of Great Britain is equalled only
by her narrow-minded avarice. I asked the British cabinet to guarantee a
Russian loan, and they were impudent enough to refuse me, although they
knew very well that I wished to negotiate it for the sole purpose of
equipping an army, with which I intended to take the field more in the
interest of England and Prussia, than in that of Russia. Faithful to my
word, and to the treaties I had concluded, I nevertheless equipped my
army and marched it into the field in order to join them. But where were
my allies? Prussia could not add to my forces a single army, but a few
corps, utterly demoralized by their misfortunes, and the assistance
promised by England came so late that it failed in saving Dantzic. The
English had taken their own time in appearing before that fortress; they
had other matters to attend to in the Baltic; they had to make money by
hunting up the merchant-vessels of other nations, and, in their
brutality and avarice, they did not shrink from laying their rapacious
hands even upon Russian ships! But while the English were taking unarmed
vessels, and calculating their profits, and the Prussians were bewailing
their misfortunes and dressing their wounds, I alone had to wage war and
ingloriously to shed the blood of my poor soldiers for a cause that was
hardly the cause of Russia. Ah, sire, I shall never forgive England for
deserting me in the hour of danger, and for basely deceiving me by false
promises!"
While Alexander was speaking, Napoleon had steadfastly fixed his eyes
on him; he had looked through the restless, quivering face of the
youthful emperor, into the recesses of his heart; and while Alexander,
wholly absorbed in his wrongs, and alternately blushing and turning pale
with indignation and grief, was uttering his reproaches, Napoleon said
to himself, "Two sentiments of the speaker are predominant, and ought,
therefore, to be flattered: spleen against allies, burdensome like
Prussia, or selfish like England; and a very sensitive and deeply
mortified pride. I must profit by them."
As soon as Alexander paused, Napoleon said in a mournful voice: "Your
allies have taken advantage of your magnanimity, sire! They knew very
well that the heir of Peter the Great was also the heir of his fiery
spirit, and that it was only necessary to talk of a field of battle, and
let him hear a warlike flourish, to make him draw the sword. Ah, sire,
why was I not so fortunate as to be at your side? Why did we not take
the field together! What heroic deeds would you have already performed!
What laurels would not now adorn a head designed by Providence to wear
them! It was your majesty's misfortune that you were united with allies
who duped you for their own purposes--they were a king without a country
and without soldiers, and a nation composed of greedy traders and
stock-brokers, calculating whether glory would be profitable to them in
pounds, shillings, and pence; and whether stocks would not fall if they
fulfilled their engagements. Your majesty alone displayed nobleness,
energy, and courage, in this triumvirate; but your friends were unworthy
of your honorable conduct. Your majesty's mistake is to be solely
attributed to generous sentiments carried to excess, and to
misconceptions to which ministers, incompetent and bribed, have given
rise. You were wrong to persist in patronizing ungrateful and jealous
neighbors like the Germans; or in serving the interests of mere traders,
like the English. God and history have intrusted a much more exalted
task to you, and for this purpose such large and warlike forces have
been given you. I and my marshals, I can assure you, are filled with
admiration at the bravery of your soldiers, every one of whom fought
like a hero."
"Ah," exclaimed Alexander, "this praise uttered by you, sire, is a balm
for my wounds!"
Napoleon laid his hand softly on the shoulder of the young emperor, and
looked him full in the face. "Sire," he said, "if we were to unite these
two armies, which fought so valiantly against one another at Austerlitz,
at Eylau, at Friedland, but who behaved like giants fighting
blindfold--if we were to take the field hand in hand at their head, we
might divide the world between us, for its own peace and welfare. By
waging war with France, Russia is spending her strength without any
possible compensation; whereas, if the two unite in subjecting the East
and the West, on land and sea, she would gain as much glory, and
certainly more profit. Yes, sire, you would attain the glory which you
have hitherto been vainly seeking with those who led you into a path in
which you have met with nothing but defeats and disappointments. Heaven
intended, perhaps, that you should pass through a school of suffering to
make you see your false friends in their true character, and then cause
you to turn to new friendships with the whole strength of your heroic
soul. Sire, I offer you my hand, and, if you will accept it, I will lead
you into a career as brilliant as the star-spangled firmament, and as
fragrant as the laurels of the south. You shall see at least half the
world at your feet. Sire, will you follow me?"
He fixed his fascinating glance on Alexander, and an unearthly radiance
seemed to beam from his countenance. Alexander, dazzled by his
aspect--carried away by the vigor of his language, and flattered also by
hearing Napoleon give utterance to reflections on his allies which so
well agreed with his own secret thoughts, extended his hands toward
Napoleon.
"Here I am," he exclaimed, "lead me! Show me the career I am to pursue!"
Napoleon hastily seized the proffered hands, and, shaking them
cordially, said with an energy which caused Alexander's heart to
flutter, "Come, the world is ours!" He conducted Alexander quickly and
silently to the round-table in the middle of the pavilion, on which
several rolls of paper were lying. Unfolding the largest, and spreading
it on the table, he said, "Sire, look here. This is a map of the world.
There is Asia, which is placed at the side of Russia, like a pillow on
which to rest your head; there is Persia, with her treasures; the vast
Chinese empire, with its industry and commerce; there is Hindustan, with
her immense wealth, and a population sighing for deliverance from the
British yoke. Here below you behold Africa, with her dreary deserts, and
the three Barbary states, which lately again plundered French vessels,
and upon which I have sworn to inflict summary punishment. I shall not
now speak of America and Australia. That is a world which has first to
pass through the children's disease of republicanism; after it has
recovered from it, both of us will be ready to inoculate it with
monarchical principles. But here is Europe! Your majesty, look at this
motley chaos of colors and states, of big and little thrones, lying
between France and Russia. We are their bulwarks on the east and west;
why should we not rule over them? We are able to do so by joining hands
over the heads of all these states. If Russia desires to be the sincere
ally of France, nothing will be more easy; we shall change the face of
this part of Europe; we shall break the chains separating these states
and nations from each other in the east as well as in the west. There
will be but one shepherd and one flock, and the Emperor of the Occident
and the Emperor of the Orient will give laws to the world!"
"Ah," exclaimed Alexander, enthusiastically, "the will of my ancestor,
Peter the Great, revives in the mouth of Napoleon the Great!"
Napoleon smiled. "And what Catharine the Great planned," he said, "will
be accomplished by Alexander the Great--the consolidation of the empire
of the East! Sire, a courier brought me important news this morning. My
ally and friend, Sultan Selim, has been hurled from his throne by the
daggers of conspirators. His overthrow has just set me at liberty in
regard to my alliance with the Porte."
"I also heard this intelligence to-day," said Alexander, smiling; "the
sultan's throne is vacant; Turkey awaits a new sovereign."
"Yes," exclaimed Napoleon, "but it is not necessary that this sovereign
should be a Mussulman. The crescent on St. Sophia's accuses the
Christian powers of cowardice and perfidy, and it is time to reestablish
the cross on it. I did think that one might make something of those
Turks, restore to them some energy, teach them to make use of their
national courage; but it was an illusion. It is time to put an end to an
empire which can no longer hold together, and to prevent its spoils from
contributing to increase the power of England. I ask but a small part of
Turkey for myself; she is too remote from France, she does not belong to
the empire of the Occident. But I remember that Catharine the Great had
placed her on the map of the new world she was constructing, and I read
in the eyes of your majesty that you have not forgotten that map!"
"Sire, you not only read in my eyes, but you look also into my heart!"
exclaimed Alexander; "like a magician, you lay your hands on the secrets
of my thoughts, that never found words; you teach them to assume a
definite shape, and impart the faculty of speech to them."
"I show you the way of glory, which your allies had taken pains to
conceal," said Napoleon, smiling. "Your majesty anxiously desires to
see it, and those perfidious men tried to mislead you. The portal opens
to you now, sire, and I already behold the noble Alexander entering it."
"Oh," murmured Alexander, placing his hands on his head, "my brain turns
dizzy; it seems to me as though it were on fire."
"Sire," exclaimed Napoleon, in a powerful voice, "we are destined to
give everlasting peace to the world, and woe to those who try to hinder
us! England would like to do so as to myself, and Turkey desires as much
in regard to you. Sire, let us unite, therefore, against these two
enemies, and give efficiency to our alliance. We must enlarge our
territory. I see in the north an obstacle to your progress; Sweden is
watching your majesty with a jealous eye, and will regard an alliance
with me as a declaration of war. Well, then, wage war against Sweden!"
"Sire," said Alexander, in dismay, and confused by those novel ideas
passing so brilliantly before him, "the King of Sweden is my
brother-in-law and ally!"
"For that reason, let him follow the changes of your policy," replied
Napoleon, "or let him take the consequences. Sweden may be an ally for
the moment, but she is your geographical enemy. St. Petersburg is too
near the frontiers of Finland. The fair Russians of St. Petersburg must
not again hear from their palaces the cannon of the Swedes. Proclaim war
against the Swedish king, and take Finland as a compensation. And as you
must be strong in the south as well as in the north, take also at once
some portion of the provinces of the Danube. However, as it is probable
that the Turks will not give up any thing, let us wage war against them.
I will assist you, and afterward the partition will take place. Look
here," added Napoleon, quickly, drawing with his finger a line across
the map, "this is the inheritance that Turkey will leave us. You take
Bessarabia, Moldavia, Wallachia, and Bulgaria, as far as the Balkan. I
should naturally wish for the maritime provinces, such as Albania,
Thessaly, Morea, and Candia. It is true Austria would object to such an
arrangement, but we should offer her indemnities in Bosnia and Servia,
to be made the appanage of one of her archdukes. I have thus laid before
you a rapid sketch of our new world, sire; the question now is whether
you like it--what you think of it."
"Your majesty," exclaimed Alexander, enthusiastically, "I feel like a
man who has looked at the sun, and whose eyes are dazzled. But I shall
become accustomed to this brilliant light, and then be able to look more
reasonably at the wonderful picture which your majesty has unrolled.
But, then, I shall need your explanations and assistance, and I
therefore request you not to let to-day's interview be the last, but
rather the commencement of many happy hours!"
"We have to settle many things yet," said Napoleon, gravely; "it is,
therefore, my heart-felt desire that we see each other as often as
possible; hence, I should like to ask a favor of your majesty."
"Ah, sire, then you will overwhelm me with kindness," exclaimed
Alexander; "will you permit me, your vanquished foe, to confer a favor
upon you?"
"I should like to request your majesty to leave the miserable hamlet
where you are now living, and establish yourself in the little town of
Tilsit. It is true I am residing there, and I am said to be your enemy;
but we may neutralize the town, that your majesty may be there also, and
that I may be so happy as to see you every day."
"Sire, I shall transfer my quarters to Tilsit in the course of the day,"
replied Alexander, joyfully.
"But I have made only half my request. It is not enough for you to
reside at Tilsit; you must also _live_ there. I have been informed that
your household is not with you. I, therefore, ask your majesty to let me
be your host, and to permit me to receive you as a guest at my table."
"I accept your hospitality," said Alexander, smiling. "I hope it will be
the beginning of a true and lasting friendship. But," he added, in an
embarrassed manner, "I have to ask a favor of you. Sire, when I accept
your generous hospitality, it must extend to the unfortunate King of
Prussia. He is my ally; in an hour of rashness and sentimental
enthusiasm, perhaps, I swore faithful and lasting friendship to him."
"At the tomb of Frederick the Great, in presence of the beautiful
queen," said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders. "It was the dream of a
generous heart, sire."
"But I must realize at least a part of this dream, sire. The King of
Prussia is with me at my headquarters; he is waiting for the decision of
his fate."
"He has brought it upon himself; let him bear it now," exclaimed
Napoleon, sternly. "I do not expect, hope, or ask any thing of him. He
is able neither to help nor to injure me. The waves of his destiny are
rolling over him; they will engulf him, and I do not mean to save him."
"But I do," exclaimed Alexander; "I must, for my honor is at stake. I
cannot allow the king to be utterly ruined without dishonoring myself.
Before passing from one system of politics to another, it is incumbent
upon me to secure my ally and to protect his crown."
"His estates belong to me; as to his crown, I will leave it to him,"
said Napoleon, carelessly. "Let him reside at Meinel and review there
his fifteen thousand soldiers. But I comprehend why you in your
generosity intercede for him, and refuse to abandon him. Tell me,
therefore, your majesty, what I am to do for the King of Prussia."
"Above all, sire, I request you to receive him, and to let him lay his
wishes and demands before you."
"Well, then," said Napoleon, "I request your majesty to appear with the
King of Prussia here in this pavilion to-morrow. Let him participate in
our interview. Although he has so long been an implacable enemy of mine,
I shall willingly yield him as much as possible, but I do so only for
your majesty's sake; it is a sacrifice I make to your honor and
magnanimity. Be kind enough to remember this. Sire, I might dissolve
Prussia, and cause her to disappear forever. I shall permit her to
remain a state, because your majesty desires me. But it is true I cannot
grant her the old frontiers; she will have to sacrifice much in order to
retain something."
"She will be content with this something," exclaimed Alexander. "Your
majesty will confer with the king himself as to the extent of his future
states."
"You wish me to do so. The King of Prussia, therefore, may have a part
in our negotiations," said Napoleon. "That is to say, in the official
negotiations, but not in our confidential interviews.--You and I," he
added, "can understand each other better if we treat directly than by
employing our ministers, who frequently deceive or misunderstand us; and
we shall advance business more in an hour than our negotiators in days.
Between you and me there must be no third person, if we are to
accomplish our purpose."
"No one shall be between us," said Alexander, delighted at so skilful a
flattery. The two sovereigns then walked hand in hand to the doors of
the pavilion.
"To-morrow, then," said Napoleon, with a gentle nod.
"To-morrow, I and the King of Prussia will be here," said Alexander,
with a smile.
Both emerged from the pavilion. The guards and the people received them
again with shouts in which the bands joined. Alexander turned to the
Grand-duke Constantine, his brother, and seizing his hand to introduce
him to Napoleon, he exclaimed enthusiastically, "What a man! what a
genius! Ah, my brother, had I but known him sooner, how many blunders he
might have spared me! What great things we might have accomplished
together!"
CHAPTER XXVIII.
QUEEN LOUISA.
While Frederick William repaired with Alexander to the headquarters of
the army, the queen and her faithful attendants remained at Memel. There
she received the news of the battle of Friedland, and bewailed the
misfortunes and disgrace of Prussia. The king was not with her, to
comfort her; he was still at the mill of Puktupohnen, where, after the
disastrous battle, he and the Emperor Alexander had retired. Alexander
had left for Tilsit. The king had refused to accompany him, preferring
to remain at his humble lodgings, far from the proud conqueror. While
Alexander was the perpetual companion of Napoleon, a daily guest at his
table, without returning this hospitality, indulging with him in
fantastic dreams about the future political system of the world,
Frederick William pursued his lonely path gravely and silently, only
looking for means to relieve as much as possible the sufferings his
subjects were undergoing, and, by remonstrances and arguments, trying to
protect his monarchy from utter destruction.
Never did Frederick William stoop to flatter his enemy--never did he bow
to him in hypocritical submission. He could not help treating him as the
conqueror of his states, but he refused to degrade himself by base
servility. His first interview with Napoleon was short, and not very
pleasant. Frederick William tried to prove to his adversary that it was
he who had brought about the war by invading the territory of Anspach,
and thereby compelling Prussia to declare war. Napoleon listened to this
charge, shrugged his shoulders, and merely replied that the cabinet of
Berlin, often warned to beware of the intrigues of England, had
committed the fault of not listening to his friendly counsel, and that
to this cause alone were to be ascribed the disasters of Prussia. Since
then, Frederick William, like Alexander, was a daily guest at Napoleon's
table, but he sat there in silence, sad, and absorbed in his
reflections, taking but little part in the conversation, and, when he
did so, assuming a cold, formal manner, while Alexander and Napoleon
chatted unreservedly and pleasantly.
The king had also been constantly at the side of the two emperors in
their long rides, and at the reviews, but always as an ominous shadow in
the light of their new friendship--always as the mournful and warning
spirit of memories which Alexander would have forgotten, because now
they were a reproach and an accusation against him. And Frederick
William took no pains to palliate this reproach, or to disguise his
sadness with a veil of politeness. Abrupt in his whole bearing, he did
not condescend for a moment to play the part of courtier. Accompanying
the emperors, the king was by no means ready to comply with their whims;
if they wished to ride at a full gallop, he moved only at a quick trot,
and politeness compelled them to remain with him. When they returned
from their excursions, Napoleon and Alexander vaulted quickly from their
horses, and walked hand-in-hand toward the door, but Frederick William
alighted slowly, and thus obliged Napoleon, whose guest he was, to wait
for him. The king frequently made his crowned companions stand,
regardless of the rain; and it happened more than once that the
emperors, while waiting for him, were thoroughly drenched. When he was
conferring with Napoleon as to the future frontiers of his states,
Frederick William did not assume a suppliant tone, but spoke with the
bearing of an incensed and insulted sovereign, whom his adversary was
robbing of his rights, and who scarcely succeeded in restraining his
indignation.
And the king had sufficient reasons to be sad and irritable. He saw that
the storm which had so long cast its bolts upon Prussia, would utterly
destroy her. Napoleon was about to revenge himself for the unpleasant
hours she had latterly caused him. He was willing, indeed, as he had
pledged himself to Alexander, to leave Frederick William his crown, but
he did not intend to restore him his states. He needed Prussia for the
new kingdom of Westphalia, and for rewarding his friends and allies. The
king was to retain nothing but a small part of the province of Prussia,
and Konigsberg was to be his capital.
Frederick William, stricken by this new and terrible humiliation
menacing him, looked anxiously around for assistance. He felt lonely,
deserted, and betrayed; he felt as though there was no comfort, no hope
for him. His soul turned with unutterable yearning toward the queen;
she was the pillar against which he desired to lean, that he might not
sink to the ground; she was his energy, his strength, his determination,
and when she was at his side, he felt strong enough to brave any
calamity. His love longed for her, and political considerations soon
required her presence.
"Beseech the queen to come hither," said Alexander to him; "she alone is
able now to do something for Prussia. Her beauty, her eloquence, her
amiability, and her understanding, will be more likely to obtain
concessions from Napoleon than any thing else. It will touch his
magnanimity that the noble queen, whom he has so often reviled,
condescends to come to him to implore his mercy. This high-minded
resolution will make a deep impression upon his generosity, and he will
grant twenty times more than I am able to obtain by my daily and most
urgent solicitations."
The king still hesitated. Owing to his sense of honor and his
conscientiousness, he shrank from doing what his heart so intensely
desired; and, before making up his mind, he wished to hear the views of
his friends, General von Kockeritz and Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, who were
carrying on the peace negotiations with Talleyrand. Both of them shared
the opinion of the Emperor Alexander; both of them exclaimed: "The queen
is our last hope! She alone is able to make an impression upon the
inexorable conqueror, and Napoleon possibly may not refuse her what he
declined granting to your majesty and to us. It is necessary for the
welfare of Prussia that her majesty should come hither."
The king delayed no longer. He wrote to the queen, and requested her to
come to his headquarters at Puktupohnen. He told her it was her sacred
duty to make a last effort for the preservation of Prussia--that every
thing would be lost if She failed to move Napoleon by her supplications
and remonstrances. A courier hastened immediately with the letter to
Memel. When Louisa read it, a pallor overspread her features. Uttering a
cry of excruciating anguish, she dropped the paper into her lap, and
buried her face in her hands.
Madame von Berg, who had heard the loud sobs of the queen in the
adjoining room, hastened to console or weep with her. Louisa did not
hear her come; she was still absorbed in grief; only incoherent
lamentations fell from her lips, and her tears fell on the letter lying
in her lap. Madame von Berg knelt, and implored her with the eloquence
of devotedness and affection to let her share her queen's grief--to tell
her what new calamity had occurred.
Louisa looked with sorrowful eyes at the friend kneeling before her.
"You ask me what calamity has befallen me! Read and know!" she said,
handing the letter to her lady of honor, and, at the same time, raising
her from her knees.
While Madame von Berg was reading, the queen rose; and with her head
thrown back, and her eyes turned upward, she commenced slowly pacing the
room. "Well?" she asked, when Madame von Berg, with a deep sigh, had
laid the letter on the table. "Did you read it? And do you comprehend my
grief now?"
"I do, your majesty," she said, mournfully.
"Caroline," exclaimed the queen, in an outburst of despair, "I am to bow
to this man, who has insulted me so infamously! I am to step like a
beggar before him who has slandered my honor before the whole world, who
has crushed my heart, and wounded my soul in such a manner that it can
never, never recover! I tell you, he will be the cause of my death! On
the day when I read those calumnies which he contrived to have printed
about me--on that day I felt a pang in my heart as if a dagger had been
plunged into it! Ah, would I could die this hour, before sinking into
this new humiliation! Ah, my soul is willing to bow to the great, the
beautiful, the sublime--but not to him--not to that proud man who is
trampling mankind in the dust; who has rendered King Frederick William
so wretched, robbing him of his states and of his majesty, slandering
his queen, and oppressing his people. Caroline, think of it! I am to
meet politely him who has robbed my children of their inheritance, and
caused me so many sleepless nights, so many tears, so many pangs! With a
smile I am to conceal my anguish; and, under a magnificent costume, my
wounded heart! As it behooves every lady, though no queen, I am not to
wait for him to come to me, but I am to go to him! I am to force my
visit on him--I am to court his favor! Ah, it is too much--too cruel!"
Raising her arms impetuously to heaven, she exclaimed in the energy of
her grief, "Wilt Thou have no mercy upon me, my God? Ah, let me die! Let
me die, to escape this new disgrace menacing me! I am a poor, tormented
woman! I ask nothing of Thee but death! Wilt Thou refuse me this only
wish?" She sank on her knees, her arms and eyes still raised toward
heaven, as if she expected that her prayer would be granted. She slowly
dropped her arms, and hung her head with a groan. Madame von Berg, in
tears and with folded hands, was praying in a low voice.
A long pause ensued. The queen rose from her knees; her face was calm
and her tears had gone! but around her eyes a quiver was still seen,
and at times a sigh escaped her breast. "It is over now," she said in a
low voice, "the struggle is over! Pardon my impassioned grief, Caroline;
my poor heart sometimes refuses to submit to the bridle of affliction.
But I must be docile and patient, and learn to obey without a murmur."
There was something so touching in the tone and manner in which the
queen uttered these words, in the glance with which she gave her hand to
her friend, that Madame von Berg was unable to conceal her tears. She
took Louisa's hand and pressed it to her lips.
"Do not weep, Caroline," said the queen. "I have paid my tribute to
human nature; I have wept, but now I will be strong and do my duty.
Stand by me, and console me by your calmness and fortitude. I must set
out in an hour; let us reflect, therefore, what preparations ought to be
made."
"Then you will really go, your majesty?" asked Madame von Berg, sadly.
"Majesty!" ejaculated the queen, almost indignantly. "Is this reverence
intended to deride me? Where is my majesty?"
"In your sovereign eyes, Louisa," said Madame von Berg--"in your great
and noble heart, which masters its grief and submits to duty. It beams
gloriously around your head, which, though it may bow to your adversary,
will never be humbled by him. But, consider, are you not about to impose
upon yourself, in your generous devotedness, a sacrifice which is
greater, it may be, than the reward? Napoleon is not a magnanimous man;
he lacks true chivalry, and he would delight, perhaps, to scorn the
august lady who humbles herself so painfully, and who thereby affords
him a triumph. There is a voice in my heart, warning me against this
plan; it is repugnant to my womanly feelings that my noble queen is
suddenly to descend into the petty affairs of politics. I am afraid your
beauty, your understanding, your grace, are to be abused to fascinate
your enemy, and to wrest from him by persuasion what is the sacred right
and property of your king and of your children, and what I believe
cannot be wrested from the conqueror through intercession, but by the
king and his ally, the Emperor Alexander, by means of negotiations, or,
if they should fail, by force and conquest."
"Hush, hush, Caroline," exclaimed the queen anxiously. "Do not repeat to
me my own thoughts; do not give expression to my doubts and fears! I
think and feel like you. But I must go nevertheless; I must do what my
king and husband asks me to do. He wrote me that it is my sacred duty
to control my feelings, and come to him--that every thing is lost if I
do not succeed in influencing Napoleon by my remonstrances. It shall not
be said that I neglected my duty, and refused to yield, when the welfare
of my children and of my husband was at stake. It is a trial imposed
upon me now, and I am accustomed to make sacrifices. God may reward my
children for the sufferings I am now undergoing, the tears of their
mother may remove adversity from them when I am no more. Oh, my children
and my husband, if you are only happy, I shall never regret having
suffered and wept! And who knows," she added, "whether God may not have
mercy upon me, and whether, by the humiliation I am about to make, I may
not really promote the welfare of my king, my children, and my beloved
people? Oh, Caroline, I feel a joyful foreboding that it will be so! It
will touch the proud conqueror to see a lady, a wife, a mother, who was
once a queen, and is now but a sad, afflicted woman, appear before him
and humbly ask him to have mercy on her children and her country. Even
though he should feel no generosity, he will feign it, and, in his
ambition to be admired by the world, he will grant me what he would have
refused under other circumstances. The hearts of men rest in the hands
of God. He will move this man's heart!"
Scarcely touching the floor with her feet, Louisa glided across the room
to the piano. She slowly touched the keys, and with upturned glances she
indicated her thoughts, singing in a joyful voice the hymn commencing
with the words:
In all thy ways--in grief, in fear,
O troubled heart I rely
On that all-faithful, ceaseless care
Of Him who rules the sky.[33]
[Footnote 33:
Befiehl Du Deine Wege
Und was Dein Herze Krankt,
Der allertreu'sten Pflege
Dess, der den Himmel lenkt.
PAUL GERHARD.
CHAPTER XXIX.
BAD TIDINGS.
Frederick William and Louisa sat hand in hand in the small, wretched
room of the mill at Puktupohnen. They were not a royal couple, but a
pair of lovers, thanking God that they were again united, and could read
in each other's eyes the love and constancy that animated them. The
king, generally taciturn and laconic, found words at this hour; his
happiness made him eloquent, and he unbosomed himself unreservedly,
telling of his apprehensions and forebodings. "But now," he said,
pressing Louisa's hand to his lips, "now you are here, and affairs will
assume a more hopeful aspect. Your eyes will strengthen and your voice
will encourage me. Alas! I stand greatly in need of your presence, for
my soul is well-nigh crushed. I have no longer sufficient strength to
withstand my misfortunes and humiliations--they oppress my life day and
night, leaving me no rest. At times, when I sat at the dinner-table
between the two emperors, and gazed at the sombre features of Napoleon,
in contrast with the good-natured face of Alexander, and listened to
their jests, I felt as though I ought to interrupt them by an expression
of anger, and say to them, 'It is a shame for you to laugh when
misfortune is in your company, and seated by your side.' But I
suppressed my feelings. Oh, Louisa, I was all alone in my agony. Now you
are here, I am no longer alone!" He threw his arms around the queen's
neck, and pressed her against his heart, as though afraid she might also
be wrested from him. "Oh, beloved Louisa," he whispered, "you are my
consolation and my hope; do not desert me--do not give me up--now that
the whole world seems to desert me!"
The queen encircled his neck in her arms and kissed him. "I shall always
stay with you," she said, smiling in her tears; "so long as my heart
throbs it belongs to you, my king, my beloved husband!" They remained
locked in an embrace. Their thoughts were prayers, and their prayers
love.
A carriage rapidly driving up to the door, and rattling the windows,
roused them. "It is Alexander, who comes to pay you a visit," said the
king, rising. "I will meet him."
But before he had reached the door, it opened, and the Emperor Alexander
appeared. "Ah, I succeeded in surprising both of you," he said, with a
good-humored smile. Bowing respectfully to the queen, he added: "I trust
your majesty will forgive my entering without announcement, but I longed
to see my noble friend Frederick William. God and His saints be praised
that the sun has at length risen on us, and that your majesty has
arrived!"
"Yes, sire, I have arrived," said Louisa, mournfully; "however, I do
not bring the sun with me. Night surrounds us, and it seems to me I
cannot see a single star in the darkness."
Alexander became grave; he gazed long and searchingly at the pale face
of the queen, and a sigh escaped his breast. "Sire," he said, turning to
the king, "can we really make peace with the man who, in the course of a
few weeks, changed into the lily the red rose that once adorned the face
of the noblest and most beautiful lady? Can we really forgive him for
wringing tears from our august queen?"
"Fate does not ask us whether we can," said the king, gloomily. "It
tells us only that we must. In my heart I shall never make peace with
the man who, although a great captain, is no great man; else he would be
less cruel. But God has given him the power, and we must all bow to
him."
"But it is not necessary to humble ourselves before him," exclaimed the
queen. "Amid our misfortunes we must keep ourselves erect; and if we
perish, we ought to do so with unsullied honor."
"But why perish?" said Alexander. "We are shipwrecked, it is true, and
we are now drifting on the waves, but we must save ourselves. Every one
must try, to the best of his ability, to do so; he must grasp at the
first thing that falls into his hands--at a plank, at a straw. Some
fortunate rope may at last save us, and draw us to the shore. We shall
then build a new ship, and man her with fresh hands. Do you agree with
me, my dear fellow-sufferers?"
"Sire," said Louisa, in a low and mournful voice, "you are magnanimous.
You call yourself our fellow-sufferer. And yet the tempest shipwrecked
us alone."
"By no means," exclaimed Alexander; "I have also suffered; all my hopes,
wishes, and ambition went down. But I did not wish to be drowned, and I
stretched out my arms for something to support me. Do you know what I
found to sustain me? The Emperor Napoleon! Oh, he is a strong support."
"I have heard, sire, your majesty has of late become an ardent admirer
of Napoleon," said the queen, in a tremulous voice.
"Yes," exclaimed Alexander, enthusiastically, "Napoleon is a genius, a
demi-god; the great Alexander of antiquity has risen from the dead. He
realizes the myths of the ancient heroes. I repeat it to him every day,
and, thank God, he believes me!"
The queen cast a surprised and inquiring glance on him. A singular smile
played on his lips. "Yes," he repeated, "Napoleon believes me! He is
convinced of the sincerity of my admiration, and he is right. I love him
as my master--as my teacher--as the great ideal that I will endeavor to
imitate!"
"Oh, sire," sighed the queen, reproachfully, "you give me pain!"
"You hate him, then?" asked Alexander, quickly.
"No," replied Louisa, gently, "I do not hate him, but I cannot love and
adore him. Only the good can make the world happy, and Napoleon has no
good intentions toward the nations. In his unmeasured ambition he thinks
of himself and his individual interests only. We may admire, but cannot
love him."
"We must, we can love him!" exclaimed Alexander. "He is an instrument in
the hand of Providence, that seems to have armed him to rule the world.
I love Napoleon," he added, in a whispering tone, "and I am sure he
believes in and returns my love. He overwhelms me with attentions and
favors; we have long conversations every day; we take our meals
together, and make many excursions. A shower surprised us yesterday and
gave us a thorough wetting. How amiably the great Napoleon behaved
toward me! how kindly he took care of me! he would not even let me go to
my quarters to change my dress, but conducted me himself to his room and
lent me his linen and clothing. As a souvenir, he presented me with a
superb dressing-case of gold which I chanced to admire. I shall always
preserve this gift as a token of his friendship."
He paused a moment, and cast a quick glance at the royal couple.
Frederick William had turned toward the window, and seemed to look
intently at the sky. Louisa had cast down her eyes, and her features
expressed a profound melancholy. The same strange smile played on the
emperor's face, but neither the king nor the queen noticed it. He kissed
Louisa's hand and asked: "Will your majesty graciously permit me to show
you that beautiful dressing-case?"
The queen withdrew her hand almost indignantly. "I thank your majesty,"
she said, "I am not very anxious to see the gifts of Napoleon."
Alexander approached nearer to her. "That is right," he whispered
hastily, "be angry with me--regard me as a faithless man--a renegade,
you will yet be undeceived!"
"Sire," said the queen, "sire--"
"Hush!" whispered Alexander, receding from her and approaching the king.
"Your majesty knows how much I have at heart your friendship as well as
your welfare--what pains I take to soften the heart of the conqueror,
and to inspire him with more lenient sentiments toward Prussia. I
improve every opportunity; I try to profit by my private interviews to
obtain better terms for you; as, for instance, I succeeded yesterday in
persuading him to leave you the fortress of Graudenz."
"I thank your majesty," said Frederick William, gravely. "But, as far as
I know, Napoleon did not conquer and occupy that fortress at all; it
held out bravely and faithfully to the day of the armistice; it remained
mine, and I do not see by what right he claims it."
"Oh, your majesty," exclaimed Alexander, carelessly, "the victor claims
the right of taking every thing he pleases. You must remember that, now
and hereafter--yes, hereafter," repeated Alexander, laying stress on the
word. "I was glad, therefore, that I succeeded in preserving Graudenz to
you. Unfortunately, however, I did not succeed in recovering the
frontiers. Our august queen must use her eloquence, and I have no doubt
that the noblest of women will succeed in bringing about what we and our
ministers failed to accomplish. But in order that your majesty may
become fully aware of the important interests that are at stake, of the
dangers menacing Prussia, and how urgently she needs the assistance of
her queen, I have brought the 'ultimatum' of Napoleon. He dictated it
to-day, to Talleyrand in my presence, and I requested him to give me a
copy. Will you permit me, sire, to communicate it to you?"
"It is always better to know our fate, and look it full in the face,"
said the king, slowly. "I request your majesty, therefore, to read it."
"And will you also permit me?" asked Alexander, turning to the queen.
Louisa gently nodded. "The king is right," she said, "we should know the
worst. Let us sit down, if your majesty please."
She took a seat on the sofa; the emperor and her husband occupied the
easy-chairs on the other side of the table.
"I implore your majesties, however, to listen without interrupting me,"
said Alexander, drawing a paper from his bosom. Glancing over it, he
added: "Napoleon demands, above all, that Prussia shall cede to him the
whole territory on the right of the Niemen, the city of Memel, and the
district extending as far as Tilsit, for he asserts that this is the
natural frontier of Russia. He requires your majesty, further, to cede
your whole territory on the left of the Elbe to France, for he regards
the Elbe as also the natural frontier of the Prussian kingdom. He
stipulates expressly that the district of Hildesheim shall not be
included in the territory of your majesty on the right of the Elbe, for
he desires this district to form part of the new kingdom of Westphalia,
which he has resolved to organize. But to compensate you for this loss,
he will prevail upon Saxony to cede to you a territory on the right of
the Elbe, equivalent to the district of Memel. Napoleon demands the
Polish provinces of Prussia for the new kingdom of Poland to be
organized; but your majesty is to keep Pomerelia and the districts of
Kulm, Elbing, and Marienwerder. The district of the Netze, as well as
the canal of Bromberg and Thorn, will be taken from Prussia; Dantzic,
with its surroundings, is to be constituted a free--I believe, a free
German city, under the joint protection of Saxony and Prussia. Russia is
to cede the island of Corfu to France. This is Napoleon's 'ultimatum,'"
said Alexander, laying the paper on the table. "These, queen, are the
conditions which your majesty ought to endeavor to render less rigorous,
and if possible, to cancel altogether. What do you think of them, your
majesty?"
"I think that if we cannot avert our fate, we must submit to it,"
replied Frederick William in a hollow voice, "but that recourse ought to
be had to every means to render it less offensive. For if I am compelled
to sign these propositions, I sign the ruin of Prussia."
The queen had listened to the words of the emperor, with breathless
attention, and fixed her eyes inquiringly on her husband. On hearing his
mournful reply, she sank back exhausted, and tears flowed down her
cheeks.
"Your majesty sees how necessary it was that you should come hither,"
said Alexander to the queen. "You have a great task to perform here. You
alone are able to save Prussia!"
Louisa shook her head. "Sire," she said, "he who was arrogant enough to
draw up such an 'ultimatum,' is also cruel enough to withstand all
solicitation. I have come because my king commanded me; faithful to the
duty intrusted to me, I shall try to mitigate our fate, but I do not
hope to be successful."
"In these times, nothing can be promised with any degree of certainty;
we can only hope for the best," said Alexander. "We must not relax in
our efforts to bring about a change in these terms. But I have not yet
communicated to you all the demands of the Emperor Napoleon."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the king, with a bitter laugh. "Then there is
something still left for Napoleon to take from me?"
"Yes, sire, he demands that your majesty dismiss your minister, Von
Hardenberg."
"Hardenberg!" exclaimed the queen, sadly--"the king's most faithful and
devoted servant! Oh, your majesty knows him--the generous zeal that
animates him, and the noble purposes that he pursues."
"I know him and have tried to lessen Napoleon's hostility," said
Alexander, shrugging his shoulders. "But my efforts were unsuccessful.
He insists on Hardenberg's removal, and I cannot but advise your
majesty, urgently, to comply. I cannot conceal from you that the Emperor
Napoleon has declared to me to-day, that he would make no peace, but
wage war with Prussia for forty years rather than consent that
Hardenberg, his implacable adversary, should remain your minister for a
single day."
"That is too much," exclaimed the queen, indignantly. "Let Napoleon
dismember Prussia, since he has the power, but he must not compel us to
select or dismiss our servants according to his _bon plaisir_."
"He must not! but he can do so," said the king gloomily, "and as
Napoleon does every thing he can, of course he compels me to undergo a
fresh humiliation. I must restore peace to my poor, bleeding country; I
cannot continue the war. If, therefore, he insists on Hardenberg's
removal as a first condition of the peace, I must comply."
"But it is impossible to inform such a faithful and devoted servant of
the state so abruptly of his ignominious removal from office," exclaimed
the queen, mournfully.
"No," said Alexander, "that is unnecessary. Minister von Hardenberg will
send in his resignation. I have had a long conference with him, and, in
consequence of it, he has repaired hither to request your majesty to
grant him an audience. May I call him?"
"If your majesty desires me I will receive him in your presence and in
that of the queen," said Frederick William, walking to the door; he
opened it, and cried: "Minister von Hardenberg!"
A few minutes afterward Hardenberg entered the room. The serene
expression of his fine, manly features had not disappeared; calm, and
kindly as usual, he approached their majesties, and bowed to them
respectfully, yet with the pride of a man conscious of his own dignity.
He took the liberty, therefore, to violate etiquette, and to speak
without being spoken to. "Sire," he said, turning to the Emperor
Alexander, "I thank you for being so kind as to procure me an audience
with his majesty, and as I may hope that you have communicated to my
king and master the reason why I applied for it, I shall have but little
to say. Time is precious, and, therefore, I shall be brief."
He approached the king, and, bowing deeply to him, added: "Your majesty
knows that I have devoted my life to the service of Prussia. I have
served her to the best of my ability and energy so long as the
confidence of your majesty permitted me. But circumstances require me
now to prove my devotedness in a different way. I can serve her now only
by retiring from the civil service, and by laying the portfolio that your majesty intrusted to me, at your feet. I, therefore, request you to be so gracious as to accept my resignation." |
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