"I have enlisted no troops--prepared no battles, and concentrated no
corps," said Muller, sighing. "On the battle-field of Jena lie buried
not only our soldiers, but our hopes. The disaster is boundless; name,
rights, existence--all gone! A new order of things is at hand. The great
period of many monarchies, since the downfall of the Roman empire, is
closed. No other path to prosperity and glory remains to us than that of
the arts of peace; we cannot succeed by war."
"It is true, then," exclaimed Gentz, mournfully, "that you are a traitor
and a renegade, and have not been slandered! You have not only lost your
faith, but the consciousness of your perfidy! Oh, I refused to believe
it; I thought it was impossible. I did have confidence in you. It was
well known to me that you had long since lost your courage and
inclination to struggle for our cause. I was also aware that, even
before the commencement of the war between Prussia and France, your
irresolution and timidity had increased. I was not greatly surprised,
therefore, that you remained at Berlin when all faithful men left the
capital, or, as some assert, you returned hither agreeably to an
invitation from the French. After this, I was no longer astonished at
seeing you repudiate your principles, your glory, your friends, the
cause of Germany, every thing great and good that you had advocated for
years, and truckle in the most cowardly manner to the conqueror, carry
on disgraceful secret negotiations with him, and issue equivocal
declarations and confessions; but that you should betray all that ought
to be dear to you--that you should publicly renounce your principles--of
such treachery I never deemed you capable!"
"And where did I commit any such treachery?" asked Muller,
reproachfully; "where did I secretly or publicly renounce all that had
hitherto been dear to me? Tell me, accuse me! I will justify myself!
This will show you how ardently I love you, for I will accept you as a
judge of my actions, and allow you to acquit me or to find me guilty."
"Be it so!" exclaimed Gentz. "I do not stand before you as an
individual; but as the voice of Germany--of posterity, that will judge
and condemn you if you are unable to justify yourself. Listen to the
charges, and reply to them! Why did you remain in Berlin when the court
fled; when all those who were loyal to the king and his cause left the
capital, because they refused to bow their heads to the French yoke?"
"I remained because I did not see any reason for fleeing. I am no
prominent politician; politics, on the contrary, are only a matter of
secondary importance to me. My principal sphere is science, and every
thing connected with it. Now I was better able to serve it here than
elsewhere. I had my books here, and a large number was on the way to me;
accordingly, I had to wait for them; besides I had commenced studying
the royal archives of Berlin to obtain material for my history of
Frederick II. These are the reasons why I remained, and I confess to you
that I had no cause to repent of it. No one injured me, or asked any
thing dishonorable of me; no one insisted on my doing any thing
incompatible with my duty and loyalty; on the contrary, all treated me
politely. They seemed to regard me as one of the ancients, living only
in and for posterity. Never before was the dignity of historical science
honored in a more delicate manner than by the treatment I received at
the hands of the French. Thus, amid the crash of falling thrones, I have
quietly continued at my history of Switzerland, written articles for
several reviews, and made extracts from many of the ancient classics,
from the whole _Muratorian Thesaurus_, and from other printed and
manuscript volumes. This, my friend, is a brief sketch of the quiet and
retired life I have led since the disastrous day of Jena."
"You forgot to mention several essential points in your sketch," said
Gentz, sternly. "You did not allude to your friendly intercourse with
Napoleon's prætorians; you forgot even to refer to the remarkable visit
you paid to the Emperor of the French. How could you, who so recently in
public addresses had called upon every one to rise against the
usurper--how could you dare to enter the lion's lair without fearing
lest he strike you dead by a single blow? Napoleon Bonaparte might
invite me twenty times in the most flattering manner, I should still
take care to refuse, for I feel convinced that I should never return.
The bullets that struck Palm's breast would be remoulded for me. How did
it come that you did not feel any such apprehensions? How could you hope
that the French would forgive your former Prussian patriotism, unless
you had made concessions to them--unless you had proved recreant to the
cause to which you had hitherto adhered?"
"I made no concessions. They were unnecessary; no one asked me to make
them," said Johannes von Muller, gently. "I remained in Berlin, because
I was unable to flee with my whole library, and because I was no more
bribed by France than by England, or any other power."
"Ah, I understand you; you will now turn the table, and accuse me
instead of justifying yourself. It is a very common thing nowadays to
tell marvellous stories about the large sums with which England has
bribed me to speak and write against the usurper, who tramples upon our
freedom and nationality. You can scarcely open a newspaper without
finding in it, side by side with eulogies of the great German historian,
and of the gratifying manner in which 'Napoleon, the hero, whose
eagle-eye discerns every thing, knew how to appreciate his merits,'
systematic attacks against me, and allusions to the rumor that I had
been bribed by England."
"I did not intend accusing you," said Muller. "I am only justifying
myself; first, as to my remaining here, and, secondly, as to the visit I
paid to the Emperor Napoleon. He sent for me, and, rest assured, I did
nothing whatever to bring about this invitation. Ought I to have
refused? He did not say a word about the king, the queen, myself, my
wishes or plans. Dear friend, will you permit me to relate to you the
particulars of my interview with Napoleon? Will you listen to me
quietly, so as to judge for yourself whether that visit, which has been
censured so severely, was really so great a crime, so terrible a
perfidy against Germany, as my enemies have seen fit to pretend?"
"Speak! I told you already that I come to accuse you in the name of
Germany and of posterity, and to listen to your justification."
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE CALL.
Johannes von Muller shook his head, and as he spoke his voice grew
louder and his face kindled with enthusiasm. "M. Alexander von Humboldt
had made me acquainted with the French minister of state, M. Maret, who
frequently invited me, with Humboldt and some other _savants_, to dine
with him, and seemed to like my conversation. One morning he called to
inform me that the Emperor Napoleon desired to receive me at seven
o'clock in the evening. At the hour appointed I rode to Maret, and was
introduced to Napoleon, who was seated by himself on a sofa; several
persons, unknown to me, stood in a remote corner of the room. The
emperor commenced by referring to the history of Switzerland, and told
me I ought to finish it, because the more recent period of the history
of that country was by no means devoid of interest. From Swiss history
we passed to the history and constitution of ancient Greece, to the
theory of constitutions, to the striking difference of those of the
Asiatic nations, and the causes of this difference, to be found in the
climate and in polygamy, to the widely different characters of the Arabs
(whom the emperor extolled very highly), and the Tartars, which led us
to the invasions always threatening civilization from that side, and the
necessity of raising a bulwark against them. We then spoke of the real
value of European culture, and stated that there never had been greater
freedom, security of property, humanity, and better times in general,
than since the fifteenth century; further, that there was a mysterious
concatenation in all terrestrial events, that every thing was directed
by the inscrutable dispensations of an invisible hand, and that the
emperor himself had become great by the very actions of his enemies. We
referred to the great confederation of nations, an idea that had already
been entertained by Henry IV.; to the sources and necessity of religion;
we said that man was, perhaps, not able to bear the whole dazzling
truth, and required to be kept in bounds; but that, nevertheless, it was
possible to bring about a happy order of things if the numerous wars
ceased that had been produced by constitutions too intricate, such as
that of Germany, and by the intolerable burdens imposed on nations by
large standing armies. A great many other things were said, and, in
fact, almost all countries and nations were alluded to. The emperor
spoke at first in his ordinary tone, but in a lower voice as the
conversation became more interesting, so that I had to bend down, and no
one else could have understood what he said. I myself shall never repeat
several statements he made on this occasion. I contradicted him
repeatedly, and he entered into a discussion with me.
"If I am to speak impartially, I must say that Napoleon's knowledge, the
correctness of his observations, his understanding, the grandeur of his
views, filled me with admiration, while the amiable manner in which he
spoke to me could not but enlist my affection. A few marshals and the
Prince de Benevento in the mean time entered the room, but he did not
interrupt himself. After I had conversed with him about an hour and a
half, he ordered the concert to commence, and I do not know whether it
was a mere accident or whether he did so to oblige me, but he asked the
musicians to play Swiss airs, and among them the _Ranz des Vaches_. He
then bowed to me kindly, and left the room. I must confess I was
fascinated. Since my conference with Frederick II., twenty-four years
ago, I never had a more interesting interview, at least none with a
prince; if my memory does not deceive me, the emperor's conversation was
even more solid and comprehensive than that of Frederick, who did not
conceal his admiration for the views of Voltaire. For the rest,
Napoleon's tone is firm and vigorous, but there is as winning an
expression about his mouth as there was about that of Frederick. It was
one of the most remarkable days of my life. Napoleon conquered me, too,
by his genius and unaffected kindness. This, my friend," said Muller,
"is a faithful account of what occurred during my visit to him, and how
I was charmed by his genius."
"Woe to you that he succeeded!" exclaimed Gentz--"that he confused your
understanding and infatuated your judgment. Are you, then, really in
earnest about this admiration and fulsome praise of a man whom you
abhorred formerly--to whom at Frankfort you vowed everlasting
hatred--whom, in your wrath, you called the scourge that was torturing
us, that we might be aroused from our stupor? Do you now seriously
praise him as the great genius to whom we ought to do homage and bow as
humble worshippers?"
"Yes, I say that Providence has intrusted to him the most sublime
mission," exclaimed Muller. "I feel convinced that God has given him the
empire of the world. Never before has this been more apparent than in
the late war, in which he obtained victories with which only those of
Arbela and Zama can be compared. Inasmuch as the old and rusty order of
things was doomed to disappear, it was fortunate that these victories
were vouchsafed to Napoleon and to a nation that is distinguished for
its culture, and appreciates the toils of learned men far more readily
than other nations. Just as little as Cicero, Livy, and Horace,
concealed from the great Cæsar, or from Augustus, that they had formerly
been opposed to him, have I concealed that I had belonged to a different
party, or rather entertained different views, which, the issues being
decided, I willingly give up, ready, if not to cooperate in, at least to
become the impartial historian of the reorganization of the world. Now,
it is an inexpressibly edifying occupation to raise our eyes from the
ruins of Europe to the whole connection of history--to seek for the
causes of events, and boldly to remove a little the veil that covers the
probable future. These ideas seem to me so grand and gratifying that
they fill my soul, absorbing all my reflections. Thus I try to prepare
as well as I can for what is to come. History teaches me that, when the
time for a great change arrives, resistance against it is utterly
useless. True wisdom consists in a correct perception of the signs of
the times, and true virtue is not transformed into vice when this or
that phase passes away. The ruler of the world will certainly never
overlook him who demonstrates his manhood, and whose skill and courage
entitle him to human respect."
"Yes," exclaimed Gentz, laughing scornfully, "you are indeed a true man!
When the country was overwhelmed with calamities--when your friends,
whom your clarion-notes once led to the charge--when the royal couple
that had overwhelmed you with manifestations of kindness and esteem, and
all the loyal and faithful fled, you acted like a true man! You only
thought of yourself and your personal interests, and forgot what you
once swore to me, and in reference to which I stand before you at this
hour. Johannes von Muller, I renounce you forevermore! Germany will
accept no further services at your hands, even though you should desire
to espouse her cause again, for no one reposes confidence in the
faithless. Posterity will honor Johannes von Muller, the historian; but
they will despise Johannes von Muller, the man. I know you now
thoroughly. Your whole character is a strange error nature committed in
uniting intellect of extraordinary strength with one of the feeblest
souls. The many sublime thoughts, the ingenious and often profound
combinations which for many years have characterized your pen, were
apparently intended only for others; you yourself derive no benefit from
them. You are, and will ever be, the plaything of every accidental and
momentary impression. Always ready to acknowledge and embrace whatever
came near you, you were never able to feel either enduring hatred or
attachment. Your life is a mere capitulation. If the Evil One himself
should appear on earth in visible form, I could show him the way by
which he could league with you within twenty-four hours. The true source
of your inconsistency is the fact that, separated from all good and true
men, and surrounded by knaves and fools, you see and hear nothing but
what is ignoble and false. If you could have made up your mind to leave
Berlin, you would probably have been saved. Your real guilt consists in
your staying here; the remainder of your faults were only consequences
of it. Whether this judgment is more lenient or rigorous, more
mortifying or honorable, than that which you may expect at the hands of
the public, I will not decide. As for myself, it is conclusive."
"But it is not for me," exclaimed Muller, with grave dignity. "I forgive
you the insults you have thrown into my face; and, instead of turning
away from you in silence, and in the consciousness of right, I will
address you a last word of justification; for you know full well that I
have loved you, and my heart renounces reluctantly its dream of
friendship. You have preferred serious charges against me; you have
threatened me with the judgment of posterity; but posterity will have
better ideas of justice than you, whose eyes are blinded by partisan
feelings and political hatred. It is true, I have said on every page of
my works that men ought not to shrink from sacrificing their lives for
their country, for truth, and justice; but I am unconscious of having
done any thing to the contrary, nor have I ever been exposed to such an
alternative. Never have I changed my principles. What I desired when I
entered into the covenant with you at Frankfort, was to bring about a
firm alliance between Austria and Prussia, and thereby to transform
Germany into a strong power, interposing the two great empires. For that
purpose I have striven, acted, spoken, and written. My utterances were
not listened to, and the year 1805 destroyed all my hopes. The times
changed, but my principles did not, based as they are on the great truth
of all possible liberty, dignity, and happiness for the nations,
according to their different circumstances and peculiarities. Never,
however, did I permit personal considerations to influence me; I wrote
for Prussia in the good cause of the princes' league, and against
Prussia in the bad one of the separate peace. It is true, I was not
quiet with regard to the blunders committed: I did not encourage the mad
expectations of the war-party, and was opposed to misleading the public
by false rumors and inflammatory appeals. I desired the truth, and
proclaimed it; but the so-called German patriots think I ought to have
kept silence. When the Jews were warned with tearful eyes to submit to
the conqueror, into whose hands Providence had delivered Asia for a
certain time, they deemed it patriotic to persecute the prophet, but
Jerusalem was burned. Why did he not keep silence? Because God commanded
him to speak. That is the servility, the faithlessness, and treachery
with which I am now reproached. Hypocrites! Every crime has its motive.
Did I intend to increase my glory? Certainly not. It was self-interest,
then? Yes!--to give up the beautiful city of Berlin, the title of
councillor of war, and a salary of three thousand dollars, doubtless to
go to Paris and receive a large pension from the French government! No!
but to accept a professorship of two thousand florins in the little town
of Tubingen, and to have the honor to work hard to pay my debts! That is
the brilliant position which is asserted to have induced me to sacrifice
my nation, my liberty, and my honor. I am tired of sacrificing myself,
of toiling incessantly, and of being exposed to danger, in an ungrateful
age and for a degenerate nation, cowardly in deed, slanderous in word,
and senseless in hope. A supreme intelligence is ruling over us; one era
is past; another is approaching, and of what character it will be,
depends on our own reformation! It was Providence that sent Napoleon as
the instrument of the transition."
"I acquiesce in the dispensation of God, who, during the latter
centuries, has so ordered events as to prevent mankind from receding
from the degree of civilization they had attained. The people must take
heart, concentrate their moral and mental strength, and devote
themselves to the culture of the peaceful and the good. That is my last
confession. If you understand me, and it satisfies you, give me your
hand, and we are reconciled; if you wish to continue to misrepresent me
and condemn my course, farewell! for, in that case, our paths diverge
forever."
"Let us, then, pursue different paths!" exclaimed Gentz, contemptuously,
taking his hat and preparing to leave. "I go, but not without painful
emotion. Let your heart, in memory of the past, tell you whether I have
judged correctly. I feel what it is to lose you! As a friend of
patriotism, I pass an inexorable sentence on you; as a man, as your
former friend, I feel nothing but compassion--to hate you is beyond my
power. If God fulfil our wishes, and crown my efforts and those of my
companions, then there will be but one punishment for you, and it will
be terrible. Law and order will return, the robber and the usurper be
humbled, and Germany, flourishing under the rule of wise sovereigns,
will again be free; but you will have to stand aloof, and never be
permitted to join in the sacred hymns of our patriots! Farewell!" He
turned and hastily left the room.
Johannes von Muller gazed after him mournfully. "I have lost another
friend! Ah, I wish I could escape into the grave from all this
turmoil--these painful misunderstandings and broken friendships."
Standing silent, he placed his hand over his tearful eyes. "No," he
said; "I will not despair! The hand of Providence is everywhere; it will
support and protect me. I have lost a friend; very well, I will return
to my immortal friends--to the ancients! They never cease to instruct
and strengthen me by their exalted sentiments." He stepped to his desk,
and, sitting down, seized one of the large open volumes. "Come and
console me, Juvenal," he exclaimed, enthusiastically. "You are to me
rather a new friend, whom I have learned but lately to understand
thoroughly. O Juvenal! let the fire burning in your works warm my heart,
and invigorate me by your words, which are among the priceless treasures
of mankind!" He bent over the book and commenced reading. His face,
which, at first, had been melancholy, soon assumed a serene and almost
good-humored expression, and, forgetful of the present, he became
entirely absorbed in reading the Roman author.
All was silent in his room. The busts of Napoleon and Frederick looked
down on the illuminated but deserted street, as if they were guarding
the great historian from any evil thoughts or cowardly despondency that
perchance might disturb his thoughts. Suddenly a horseman galloped up,
and a carriage approached the house. Two gentlemen alighted and entered.
Johannes von Muller saw and heard nothing. He read and copied such
passages from old Juvenal as pleased him best.
Some one rapped violently at the door, and a deep voice called out in
French, "May I enter?"
"General Clarke!" exclaimed Johannes von Muller, almost in dismay,
starting up and rushing toward the door; but, before he reached it, the
French governor of Berlin, General Clarke, appeared, followed by a young
orderly, whose dusty uniform told that he had just left the highway and
the saddle.
"M. Johannes von Muller," exclaimed Clarke, cordially nodding, and
offering his hand to the _savant_. "See what I bring you!"
"Well," asked Muller, in surprise, "what does your excellency bring?"
"I bring you a courier whom the minister of state, M. Maret, by order of
the emperor has sent you, and who has been hunting for you all over
Germany. At Frankfort he was informed you were already at Tubingen, and
on arriving there he learned that you had not yet left Berlin, although
you had been expected for six months."
"I could not go," said Muller; "I had not yet received my dismissal; it
arrived only to-day."
"It is well it came to-day," exclaimed Clarke; "it has arrived just in
time. My friend," he added, turning to the courier, "this is M. von
Muller; deliver the letter into his hands."
The courier produced a large letter to which an official seal was
attached. "When can you let me have the reply?" he asked. "I have been
instructed to return to Paris without delay."
"The reply?" said Muller. "But I do not yet know the question?"
"My learned friend," exclaimed Clarke, laughing, "this game of questions
and answers with Napoleon resembles a thunderstorm; almost as soon as
the flash is seen, the thunder is heard. There must be no hesitation--no
delay. It is the emperor that asks. Permit the courier, in the mean
time, to retire into the anteroom. On crossing it, I noticed a sofa. You
will permit him to take a little rest until your reply is ready. I have
also commissioned your servant to fetch a glass of wine and some food.
You must take into consideration that the poor fellow has been on
horseback, day and night, and has but just left the saddle."
"Go, sir," exclaimed Muller, in an impressive voice, "take a little rest
and some food. I am sorry that I have caused you so much trouble."
"And now, sir," said Clarke, when the courier had left the room, "read
the letter from Minister Maret."
Johannes von Muller broke the seal and opened the paper with a trembling
hand. While he was reading, a blush suffused his face, and an
exclamation of joyful surprise burst from his lips. "This letter
contains extraordinary news! I am to go to Paris! I am to receive an
important office that I have never solicited!"
"Yes, sir, you are to go to Paris, and, as speedily as possible," said
Clarke, smiling. "I also received a letter from the minister by this
courier, and his excellency requests me to have you set out without
delay. It is the emperor's order, sir, and must be complied with. His
majesty himself has appointed you to the exalted position which you are
to fill at the court of his brother, the King of Westphalia. Jerome's
kingdom sprang from the soil of Germany in a night; hence it is right
that you should be his minister of public instruction. That is the
office to be intrusted to you, sir. The emperor has so ordered it. He
promised his brother a minister of the German nation."
"I, a poor book-worm, who have had more intercourse with the dead than
the living--I am to become a minister! That will not do. I lack the
necessary ability and experience."
"Nonsense, sir!" exclaimed Clarke; "when the emperor bestows an office
on a man, he gives him the understanding required for it. Hesitation is
injurious, because it only postpones your departure. Please notice that
you have not been asked whether you wish to accept or not, but that the
emperor orders your presence, and that quickly. I shall lend you my own
travelling-coach, and send my secretary with you. You will travel by way
of Mentz and Strasburg, and in five days you must be at Fontainebleau,
where the emperor is awaiting you to give you further instructions.
Well, when do you intend to set out?"
"When shall I set out? I feel as one dreaming, or as if all this were
the play of my imagination."
"You will have to admit, however, that it is at least brilliant. It is
worth while, I should think, to make a journey to Paris to receive the
appointment of cabinet-minister. I ask you again: When will you set out?
Remember, it is the emperor that calls you."
"Oh, then he has not forgotten me, the great man!" exclaimed Muller.
"After so many victories, he still remembers that interview in which I
learned to admire him. I must not be ungrateful for so gratifying a
remembrance. Only sublime and salutary ideas spring from the head of
Jove; hence, I submit in every respect to his will, and shall go to him
to receive his orders and comply with his wishes."
"Well said!" exclaimed Clarke. "You will set out to-morrow morning. I
shall prepare every thing that is necessary. But, remember, the courier
is waiting for your reply. Quick, my friend! write an answer to the
minister. But few words are required. Just say to him: 'Your excellency,
I come!' That will be sufficient."
Johannes von Muller, almost intoxicated with delight, hastened to his
desk, and wrote a few lines. "I have written what you told me," he said,
smiling, and handing the paper to the general. "I have written: 'Your
excellency, I come!'"
"Now fold it up and direct it," said Clarke.
Muller did so, and gave the sealed letter to Clarke: "Well, general,
here is the letter--I deliver it into your hands, and with it my
future."
"Mr. Minister, permit me to congratulate you," said Clarke, smiling,
and, going to the door, he gave the letter to the courier.
"Minister!" said Johannes von Muller, with a joyful air, "I am to be a
minister!" But suddenly his face became gloomy. "Alas!" he murmured,
"now my country will call me a traitor indeed, and Gentz will seem to be
right in denouncing me as an apostate, and accusing me of having
tendered my resignation to obtain a more lucrative office. Well, no
matter," he exclaimed, after a pause, "let them denounce and slander me!
My conscience acquits me, and I may be permitted, after all, to be
useful to Germany in my new position. May God in His mercy guide me!"
CHAPTER XXXV.
FINANCIAL CALAMITIES.
"Heaven be praised that you are again restored to us!" exclaimed the
queen, smiling gratefully, and offering her hand to Minister von Stein.
"Oh, believe me, such a sunbeam is welcome to us in these dreary days of
Memel."
"It is true," said Stein, sighing. "Your majesty has passed disastrous
days, and I am glad that I am able again to assist my adored queen in
her troubles."
She shook her head mournfully. "I do not believe in the possibility of
any alleviation or change. We have suffered great misfortunes, and
greater may befall us. Since the days of Jena and Auerstadt our sorrows
have increased. We are constantly experiencing some new humiliation;
even the treaty of Tilsit is not the climax of our calamities. They come
as an avalanche, and sometimes I wish to be buried beneath them."
"Then the last ray of hope for Prussia would disappear," said Stein.
"If your majesty desert us, we are irretrievably lost, for your life,
your courage, and your spirit, are the support of your husband. Without
Louisa, Prussia and her king would perish."
"Oh, it is true he loves me," cheerfully exclaimed the queen. "The king
treats me more affectionately than ever. And that is great happiness
after a wedded life of fourteen years! I will be grateful to him as long
as I live, and to Prussia for loving me. But, alas! I have no other
thanks for them than my devotion and my prayers!"
"You have still your courage and a strong hope in the future of your
country. You must animate the desponding and strengthen the weak. Let
that be your majesty's great and holy duty."
"You are right, I must not despair," responded the queen, "and I thank
you for having admonished me. Oh, it is sometimes very difficult to bear
such disasters, and I feel that my health is giving way more and more.
And tell me where am I to look for consolation? The storm is upon us,
and where shall we find a refuge? How shall we escape the thunderbolt?"
"In our hopes for a more glorious future," said Stein, energetically.
"Future!" exclaimed Louisa. "There is no future without independence,
and where is that to be found to-day? All are slaves and bow in the most
abject humility to a master who, in his turn, is but the slave of his
own boundless ambition and arrogance, and, alas! there is no man living
who would dare to set bounds to them! Do you know how disdainfully our
envoy, M. von Knobelsdorf, was treated? He was utterly unable to prefer
his remonstrances and prayers that Prussia might be protected from
further extortion, and that the French armies might be withdrawn.
Napoleon received him but once, and then, as it were, accidentally. The
Prince of Baden and Cambaceres were in the room, and our ambassador was
no more noticed than a crumb of bread. The emperor's attendants treated
him in the same manner, and Minister Champagny remarked to Knobelsdorf
that they would see how Prussia behaved. He hoped we would comply as
much as possible with the emperor's wishes, for such a course would
alone be likely to give us relief, and that we ought to blame no one but
ourselves. Are you aware of this, and are you still hopeful and speak of
a happy future?"
"Yes, I am aware of all this, and it is precisely for this reason I
speak as I do," said Stein. "We must work to dispel the dangers to which
your majesty referred; we must erect lightning-rods to attract the
dangerous fire. If your majesty had a less vigorous soul, I should
conceal from you the calamities still threatening Prussia,
notwithstanding the treaty of Tilsit; but Queen Louisa is the genius of
Prussia, and I apply to her for assistance!"
"Oh!" exclaimed the queen, anxiously, "bad tidings again, I suppose?"
"Yes," said Stein, sadly--"bad tidings! We have received the last
propositions or rather decrees of Napoleon. He imposes on Prussia
contributions amounting to one hundred and fifty millions, one-third to
be paid immediately in cash; bills will be accepted for fifty millions,
and estates are to be ceded to France for the last fifty millions. The
five fortresses of Graudenz, Kolberg, Stettin, Kustrin, and Glogau are
demanded as security for the payment. Forty thousand French soldiers are
to garrison the fortresses, ten thousand of whom will be cavalry,
uniformed, armed, and fed by Prussia, which is to furnish twelve
millions for this purpose. The estates of the king in the districts of
Magdeburg and Brandenburg, between the Elbe and the Oder, and in
Pomerania, are to be ceded and disposed of in what manner the emperor
may deem prudent. As the forty thousand men will be unable to find
sufficient room in the five fortresses, certain districts of Prussia
will have to be assigned them."
"And what remains then to the king?" exclaimed Louisa, with flaming
eyes. "What remains to us?"
"This must not be," said Stein. "We must leave nothing undone--we must
strain every nerve to prevent it. The disasters of Prussia compel us to
shrink from nothing to avert this last and terrible blow, or the country
will be hopelessly ruined. Oh, I cannot describe to you the distress,
the misery, the disgrace I witnessed in the cities through which I
passed on my journey. Your majesty knows that I was at Berlin; I saw
that Daru and Clarke behaved in the most reckless and scornful manner,
refusing with sneers to listen to any remonstrances. They seemed to be
bent on oppressing and impoverishing the country, and drinking the last
drop of its heart's blood! I beheld everywhere the same heart-rending
spectacle that I witnessed at the capital. Every city and fortress has
its systematic tormentor in some governor or commander, distinguished
for arrogance and cruelty. The distress is unutterable, and yet the
people hope for speedy deliverance. The eyes of all are turning with
tears, it is true, but with love and hope, to Memel, the heart of the
Prussian monarchy. All the hopes of your subjects are centred in the
king and the queen; to you they look for alleviation."
"Alas!" exclaimed the queen, bursting into tears, "is there, then, any
way by which we can help them? Oh, name it! What can the king--what can
I do to procure relief for Prussia?"
"The greatest burden at this moment is the presence of the French
troops, and the oppressive conduct of the public officials, who are
openly disregarding all the laws and institutions of the country, and
trampling under foot the most solemn rights. We must make every possible
effort to rid Prussia of these men. To accomplish this, we must, in the
first place, try to find means to pay the first third of the
contribution; and next, to induce Napoleon to grant us better terms for
the payment of the remainder. We must endeavor to induce him to consent
to a gradual liquidation (which would be more in accordance with our
ability), and without insisting on retaining the fortresses as security,
and oppressing us with an army of forty thousand men. In this way our
exhausted treasury would not be required to pay the additional twelve
millions for equipping the French soldiers, and the country would be
preserved from the tyranny of a hostile occupation."
"But you may depend on it, there is no way to soften that heart of
Napoleon," said the queen, sighing. "He is certainly a victorious
warrior, but he is not great in the highest sense--he is not good, for
he knows neither compassion nor love. He has marked out his path in
lines of blood, and he pursues it over the slain of the battle-field and
the ruins of once prosperous and happy nations. Napoleon has no pity,
and our complaints would but gratify his pride."
"And yet we must try to dispose him to comply with our wishes," said
Stein. "The king has resolved upon writing to-day to the Emperor
Alexander, and imploring him to instruct Count Tolstoy, his ambassador
in Paris, to remonstrate with Napoleon, and convince him of the cruelty
and injustice of his demands. Oh, the king is ready, with an energy
deserving the highest admiration, to do every thing to lessen the
burdens under which his subjects are groaning. He himself has drawn up a
financial plan to procure the first twelve millions, which we shall
offer to pay immediately. He is ready to order reductions in the budget
of the army, the opera, the ballet, and the extraordinary pensions. He
himself sets an example of self-denial and economy. He will reduce
further his household, and retain only the most indispensable servants.
Notwithstanding my protestations, he insists on refusing to accept the
civil list due him."
"Oh," exclaimed the queen, "who can call me unhappy when I am the wife
of the noblest of men? But I will also take part in these sacrifices,
and I hope the king has also refused to accept the money paid me by the
state treasury."
"No, your majesty. That should not be curtailed; I would never advise
it, and the king would not consent."
"But I insist," replied the queen, firmly. "My king and husband must
forgive me if I choose for once to have a will of my own. If the king is
ready to suffer privations, then it is my right and duty to share them."
"But your majesty ought to think of your children, who would also
suffer. Pray take into consideration that the royal family would be
reduced to a very small income, and that the most rigid economy could
not preserve you from embarrassments. A portion of the royal estates is
to be mortgaged or sold for the purpose of defraying part of the French
contribution; considering the universal distress, it is very probable
that the income to be derived from the other estates will not be paid at
all, or very tardily. The king, moreover, gave up very considerable
resources by sending the large gold dinner-set to the mint to be
converted into coin, which he did not use for himself or his household,
but paid into the state treasury. If your majesty, like the king,
refuses to accept money from the treasury, pecuniary difficulties will
arise, which will be the more painful to you, as your children will
suffer, deprived of the comforts to which they have been accustomed."
"That will produce a salutary effect," said the queen, quickly.
"Circumstances educate men, and it will certainly be good for my
children to be familiar with something more than the sunniest side of
life. If they had grown up in opulence, they would ever consider it as a
matter of course; but that there may be a change, they learn now from
the gravity of their father, and the tears of their mother. It is
especially good for the crown prince to become acquainted with
adversity--when, as I hope, happier times come, he will better
appreciate his prosperity. Let them share our adverse fortune! I know
how to protect them from real want. I have still some means left, and
the Lord will not forsake us. Do not call this stubbornness or
presumption. You know we have not refrained from every exertion to
lessen our calamities. I have even gone so far as to beg the Duke de
Rovigo, who is now governor of East Prussia, to intercede with the
emperor concerning the contributions, and to have restored to us our
estates, because they were our only possessions. Do you know the reply
the duke made? He told me that all solicitations would be in vain, and
even the intercession of Russia would be of no avail in regard to this
matter. He added that there remained to us one way of procuring money,
and he advised us to sell our plate and jewels."
"The impudent villain!" exclaimed Stein, indignantly. "How could he go
so far as to use such language toward your majesty!"
"It is true," said the queen, gently, "it pained me grievously, and
brought tears. Not that my heart cares for worldly splendor, but there
is something inexpressibly offensive in the scorn with which those men,
and particularly the Duke de Rovigo, imitate the example of their
master. But, after all, that sagacious duke was right, perhaps, for
useless jewels may be converted into money. I admit," added the queen,
with a smile, "that I had never thought of it; it would never have
occurred to me that we might get money by selling our personal property.
In fact, I ought to be grateful to M. Savary for his advice."
"Your majesty," said Stein, deeply affected, "you must not think of
selling your jewels. Better times will come. Even in these days of
adversity there will be occasions when you must show yourself to your
people at public festivities and demonstrations; they like to see their
queen adorned in a regal and becoming manner."
"My most becoming ornament will be simplicity, and the tears of
gratitude with which I shall receive those who wish to honor me."
"But your jewels are the heirlooms of your children, your majesty."
"The only inheritance of our children which we are not allowed to part
with is our honor," said the queen, firmly. "We would not sell it for
all the empires of the world. That must remain to us. As for the rest,
we must learn to do without it."
"But it will greatly pain the king should your majesty sell your jewels.
It will be another humiliation."
"Oh, I can conceal it from him," exclaimed the queen. "I shall sell
those superfluous articles secretly. There will be no festivities here,
and hence it will be unnecessary for me to appear in royal attire.
Two-thirds of the money realized will pay the pensions of the king's old
servants; for I know the unsettled arrears cause my husband many a pang.
When these worthy men, who are to be deprived of the salaries which
they so richly deserve, send in their receipts, then let my husband find
out whence we have obtained the money; then, I hope, he will forgive my
having taken this step without his permission. You must assist me in
this matter, and take upon yourself the payment of the pensions and
salaries; will you promise me to do so?"
Baron von Stein endeavored to reply, but the words died on his lips; he
bowed over the hand the queen offered him, and tears fell on it as he
pressed it to his lips.
"Oh," said the queen, "was I not right in saying that I should never
lack ornaments? Are there any more precious than the sympathizing tears
of a high-minded man?"
"Pardon me," whispered Baron von Stein. "I wish I could transmute them
into diamonds, and lay them at the feet of my queen."
"And what," asked Louisa, "would they be worth compared with your noble
and faithful heart? We can do without jewelry, but not without your
services."
"Henceforth all my thought and energy shall be devoted to Prussia," said
the minister. "But your majesty must be so kind as to assist me. I must
implore you to unite with me to obtain from Napoleon less rigorous
terms, and the withdrawal of the French troops."
"Alas! what can I do? You see I am ready to do any thing to lessen the
sorrows of Prussia. Tell me, therefore, what I am to do."
"I have the honor to inform your majesty. I have drawn up a plan which
will enable Prussia to pay this burdensome debt in the course of three
years. It is true, we have to consent to large reductions, collect the
war-debt due from Russia, negotiate loans, impose on the subjects of
Prussia, besides the ordinary taxes, extraordinary contributions, and an
income-tax, and issue paper money. These onerous expedients will deliver
us at least from the present pressure by furnishing us the means of
paying the French contributions. It is only necessary to send my plan to
Paris--to deliver it safely into the hands of Napoleon, and induce him
to accept it."
"I hope you will not ask me to go to Paris for this purpose!" exclaimed
the queen, in dismay.
"No," answered Stein, "I have proposed to his majesty to intrust this
task to his brother, Prince William. The king has approved my
proposition, and sent for the prince to request him to undertake this
difficult and dangerous mission."
"He will joyfully consent to do so," exclaimed Louisa. "He loves his
king and his country, and will shrink from no sacrifice. Alas, he will
have to endure many a humiliation, and in vain; it will lead to
nothing."
"We must send powerful auxiliaries with him," said Stein, quickly. "And
now I shall state the request which I desire to make to your majesty.
You must support the prince, and help him in his difficult undertaking.
I beseech you, therefore, to give him an autograph letter to Napoleon;
condescend to entreat the emperor to be merciful and generous; depict to
him the distress of your country, the sufferings of your subjects, and
the privations of your family, and appeal to his magnanimity to desist
from his demands, and accept our plan of payment. Oh, your majesty, in
your enthusiasm and patriotic love, you are inspired with a power of
expression which even Napoleon will be unable to resist; and whatever he
would refuse to the prayers of the prince he will yield to those of
Queen Louisa!"
"Never!" she exclaimed. "Never can I subject myself to this humiliation!
Never can I stoop so low as to write to that man! Oh, you do not know
how pitilessly he insulted me; otherwise you would not dare to ask me.
Remember what I have already done, how low I have humbled myself, and
all for nothing. Can I forget those days of Tilsit, when I seemed to
live only for the purpose of heightening the conqueror's pride by my
woe-begone appearance--when I felt as if chained in a triumphal car, and
endeavored with a mournful smile to conceal my shame and misery, in
order to meet him politely whose heartless glances made my soul tremble?
How can I write to him whom I implored at Tilsit, but who carried his
cruelty so far as to make promises which he afterward renounced--who
designated as acts of gallantry the assurances he had given in reply to
the tears of my motherly heart? If I could save Prussia, and secure the
happiness of my husband and children, I would willingly suffer death,
but this renewed humiliation is beyond my strength."
The minister, folding his arms, looked with deep emotion at the excited
queen, as she rapidly walked up and down the apartment. Standing in
front of him, she said in a gentle, imploring voice: "I am sure you feel
that your request cannot possibly be granted."
"May I repeat to your majesty," said Stein, solemnly, "the words you
uttered just now with regard to Prince William?--'The prince will
joyfully consent to undertake the difficult mission. He loves his king
and his country, and will shrink from no sacrifice.'"
The queen burst into tears, and, turning away from Stein, again but
slowly paced the room, her head thrown back, her eyes turned upward with
a suppliant expression, and her lips quivering.
"She is undergoing a terrible struggle," said Stein to himself, "but she
will be victorious, for her heart is noble, and eternal love is in her
and with her." He was not mistaken. Gradually she grew calmer; her eyes
became more cheerful, and her features assumed a serene expression.
"Baron von Stein," she said, "I will do what you ask of me; I will
conquer myself. As you believe it prudent, I will write to the Emperor
Napoleon, and entreat him to spare Prussia. I desire you to draw up the
letter for me, so that it may be only necessary to copy it."
"I foresaw this, and complied with it in advance," said the minister,
taking out his memorandum-book, and presenting a sheet of paper. "Here,"
he said, "is a draught of the needed letter. If your majesty approve it,
I venture to request you to copy it speedily, for this business must not
be delayed, and if the prince accepts the propositions of the king, it
would be advisable and necessary for him to set out to-day."
The queen hastily glanced over the letter. "It is all right," she said;
"I approve all you have written. I wish to get through at once with this painful matter, and I request you to wait until I have copied it. You may take it with you, and lay it before the king." |
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