"You are right, it is perhaps the only way to save his life. Napoleon
has a generous heart; your tears, perhaps, will touch him, for he cannot
bear the sight of a weeping woman, and genuine grief always moves his
heart. But just because he is conscious of his weakness, he will avoid
seeing you, and give stringent orders not to admit any one. You must, at
present forget your rank. You must not insist that the footmen announce
you, and open the folding-doors, but you must make up your mind to
appear, without any regard to etiquette, before the emperor, and oblige
him to grant you an audience."
"Do you not see that I am nothing but a poor, unhappy woman, begging for
mercy?" said the princess, with a melancholy smile. "Would I have come
to you if I thought still of the rules of etiquette? Give me an
opportunity to see the emperor, and, though it were in the open street,
and thousands standing by, I should kneel down before him, and, like a
beggar-woman, ask for the alms of his mercy--for my husband's life is in
his hands!"
"Well, if such be your feelings, princess, I hope to be able to procure
you access to him. We must act as generals do in the field, and try to
outwit the enemy--we must deprive the emperor of the possibility of
avoiding an audience. After his return from Charlottenburg and when once
in his rooms, all will be in vain; he will admit no one, and close his
ears against all supplications of mine. Hence you must meet him at the
moment when he enters the palace. You must--"
A rapid knock at the door interrupted him, and Duroc hastened to open
it. "Is it you, Jean?" he asked.
"Yes, M. Grand marshal, it is I," said the footman, "I come to inform
your excellency that the emperor is just riding up the Linden with his
suite. He will be here in a few minutes."
"All right. Go now, Jean."
"Let us go, too," said the princess, quickly approaching the door. "Give
me your arm, M. Grand marshal; I am trembling so, I might sink down
before appearing in the presence of the emperor!"
"Come, princess," said Duroc, compassionately, "lean firmly on me.
Heaven will give you strength, for you have a noble and fearless heart.
Come! I will conduct you to the foot of the staircase, which the emperor
will have to ascend in order to reach his rooms. You may accost him
there. God and love will impart strength to your words!"
With rapid steps they crossed the suite of rooms and stepped into the
so-called Swiss hall, where the orderlies and soldiers of the guard on
duty that day were assembled. The bearded warriors looked surprised at
the grand marshal--whose face was graver than they had ever seen it in
battle--and at this lady, hanging on his arm, as beautiful and pale as a
lily. Duroc, who generally had a smile and a pleasant word for the
soldiers of the guard, the faithful companions of so many battles, took
no notice of them. He hastened with the princess through the hall into
the corridor, and down the broad winding stairs opening immediately into
the second court-yard of the palace. He then conducted her across
through the inside portal to the splendidly-carpeted principal staircase
in the rear of the vestibule.
"Await the emperor here," said Duroc, drawing a deep breath. "He will go
up this staircase, and he cannot, therefore, avoid meeting you. But he
has a sharp eye, and if he should see you from afar, he might, divining
your intention, turn around and go the other way. Ascend as far as the
first landing. The emperor cannot see you there before he mounts the
first steps, and then he will not turn hack."
The princess hastily ascended the steps, which she had so often done
with a joyous heart, and in a brilliant toilet, when repairing to the
festivals of the royal court. Duroc followed her, and told the sentinel
posted at the staircase and presenting arms to the grand marshal, that
the lady had received orders to wait there for the emperor, who--
Just then the drums rolled, and the guard in the court-yard was called
out.
"The emperor!" whispered the princess, sinking down on her knees,
clasping her hands and praying silently.
"The emperor!" said Duroc, hastening down-stairs into the second
court-yard.
Napoleon rode in at that moment, and Duroc, glancing uneasily at him,
saw that his mien was even gloomier than previous to his ride; he saw
that flashes of anger darted from his eyes, ready to wither the first
being that should come near them. On riding up the Linden to-day, he had
again missed the wonted music of "_Vive l'Empereur_!" and noticed that
the people, standing here and there in groups in the street, when he
passed them, had frowned instead of greeting him with the usual cheers.
This want of respect, this visible defiance had darkened his countenance
and embittered his soul. Just as he alighted from his horse, and threw
the bridle to Koustan, the Mameluke, the grand marshal, pale, panting,
and in visible emotion, stepped up to him. Napoleon noticed it, and his
angry glance intimidated Duroc.
"You want to inform me that Berlin is seditious?" he asked, in a stern,
hard voice. "I am not astonished at it. This city seems to be inclined
to such movements. But I am about to set it a terrible example; I will
show Berlin in what manner I punish rebels, and will cure its seditious
tendency." Striking his boots with his riding-whip, as was his habit
when out of humor, he crossed the court-yard in the direction of the
staircase.
"No, sire," said Duroc. "Berlin is not seditious. I only intended to
implore your majesty's noble and generous heart to grant me a favor."
The emperor looked at him with some surprise, and, advancing rapidly, he
set foot on the first step of the staircase, his eyes directed to the
grand marshal. "Well, what is it?" he asked, ascending the second step,
and turning to Duroc, who was walking behind him.
"Sire, have mercy on the unhappy Princess von Hatzfeld! I beseech your
majesty to grant her an audience."
"No, no," exclaimed the emperor, "do not say a word about that! I do not
wish to see her, I--But what is this?" he interrupted himself, for he
had now reached the first landing, and beheld the princess. She had
knelt down, and, stretching out her clasped hands, fixed her large azure
eyes on him with a most heart-rending, suppliant air.
Napoleon's brow grew darker than before, and with an angry air he asked,
"What does this mean, M. Grand marshal? Who is this lady?"
"Sire, it is the Princess von Hatzfeld," replied Duroc, in a low voice.
"She implored me to procure her an interview with your majesty. Sire,
pardon me for having conducted her hither, that she herself might beg
your majesty for this audience. I counted on your generous heart, which
will forgive the wife who conies to implore your mercy for her husband."
"Have you not been told that I have expressly forbidden this affair to
be mentioned to me?" exclaimed the emperor, in a threatening voice. "The
court-martial alone has to judge the prince and I will and must not
influence its verdict."
"Oh, sire," exclaimed the princess who was still on her knees, "have
mercy on me!--have mercy on my unhappy husband!" Tears choked her voice,
and ran in torrents over her pale face.
Napoleon seemed to be moved by this piteous spectacle; his eye became
milder, and his frown disappeared. "Madame," he said, bending over her,
"rise. A lady in your circumstances ought to kneel before God only. In
consideration of your condition, I grant you an interview. Grand
marshal, follow me, with the princess." He quickly ascended the
staircase, and, without looking round, walked across the halls and rooms
to his cabinet. Breathless, scarcely touching the floor with her feet,
and strengthened by her profound emotion, the princess walked behind him
by the side of Duroc.
"The emperor now enters his cabinet," whispered Duroc. "You have reached
your destination."
"My God, have mercy on me!" sighed the princess, and raised her eyes
imploringly to heaven. She was now in the cabinet, and Duroc withdrew to
the door. Napoleon stood in the middle of the room; the brightly-burning
fire shed a light over his whole figure, and rendered prominent his
stern features.
"Sire," exclaimed the princess, falling on her knees, "I beseech you
have mercy on my husband! Mercy, sire, mercy!"
"Mercy!" ejaculated Napoleon, harshly. "Do you know the crime of which
your husband stands accused?"
"Sire, I know only that he worships your majesty; I therefore do not
believe in his guilt," exclaimed the princess.
"He has acted the part of a miserable spy," added Napoleon, raising his
voice. "After he had already sworn to me the oath of obedience and
fealty, he mailed a letter to the King of Prussia, in which he reported
to him the number, the spirit, and movements of the French troops. That
is the act of a traitor and a spy, and as such he will be found guilty
by the court-martial to-morrow."
"Sire, it is impossible! My husband cannot have done any thing
of the kind. Oh, believe me, your majesty, he is innocent! He
has been slandered in order to bring about his ruin; but he is
innocent--assuredly he is innocent! He never wrote such a letter; he
cannot have written it!" The emperor quickly walked to his desk, and
took from it a paper, which he handed to her. "Here is the letter," he
said. "Do you know your husband's handwriting?"
The princess fixed her eyes, dimmed by tears, on the paper she held in
her trembling hands. She then uttered a cry, so piercing and
heart-rending, that Duroc, who was standing at the door, felt the tears
starting into his eyes. Napoleon himself could not help shuddering.
"It is his handwriting!" muttered the princess, dropping the paper upon
the floor. Her quivering lips had now no longer the strength and courage
to repeat her prayer--her head fell on her breast, and she uttered only
low groans and sobbed.
The emperor seemed to be touched by her wordless yet eloquent grief. His
manner, which had hitherto been stern, became gentle and kind, and he
looked down with an expression of compassion on that kneeling,
despairing form. He stooped, picked up the letter, and placed it in the
hands of the princess. "Madame," he said, "here is the letter. Do with
it what you please. For this letter is the only thing proving his
guilt."
The princess looked up to him with a joyous, surprised glance. The
emperor smiled, and pointed silently to the fire-place. She rose hastily
from her knees, rushed toward the fire, and threw the paper into it.
"It is burning! It is burning!" she joyfully shouted. "My husband is
saved! My husband is free!" and uttering a scream, she tottered back,
and fell in a swoon at the emperor's feet.
Duroc rushed to her aid, and, raising her in his arms, was about to
carry her out of the room; but the emperor himself rolled an easy-chair
toward her, and assisted Duroc in placing her on it.
"Now, call Roustan," said Napoleon, "he will help you to remove the
fainting lady. But quick, lest she awake and thank me! Conduct her to
her husband, who is here at the palace. Let her personally announce to
him that he is free, and tell him that he is indebted for his release
solely to her intercession. Make haste!"
Roustan entered as soon as Duroc called him, and both of them carried
the princess on the easy-chair out of the room. The emperor gazed
musingly after them, and a sarcastic smile played on his lips. "Well,"
he said to himself, "I believe this scene will be an excellent match to
the oath at the grave of Frederick the Great. It will form a glorious
subject for an engraving--one that will be more honorable to me than was
the oath to the beautiful queen. Artists will be delighted to publish
such an engraving, and the good city of Berlin will say that I am a
great man, and know how to forgive injuries."
Just then Talleyrand, who had the right to enter the emperor's cabinet
at any time, without being announced, appeared on the threshold.
"Ah, Talleyrand," exclaimed Napoleon, "if you had come a little earlier,
you would have witnessed a very touching scene. The Princess von
Hatzfeld was here."
"I know it, sire. I have just met the poor fainting lady in the
anteroom, and Duroc described to me in a few words what had taken place.
How lucky it was that there was a fire in the room!"
The emperor bent a piercing glance upon Talleyrand, but the minister's
face was perfectly calm and impenetrable. Not the slightest approach to
a sneer was visible in it.
"This proof of generosity will win the hearts of all to your majesty,"
added Talleyrand. "People will forget Palm; they will only think of
Hatzfeld, and praise you as a modern Cæsar. When the letters his enemies
had written to Pompey were shown to Cæsar, he refused to read them, and
threw them into the fire (there is always a fire burning in the right
place and at the right moment), saying, 'Although I am sure to master my
anger, yet it is safer to destroy its cause.' Your majesty has followed
Cæsar's example, and, if you have no objection, sire, I shall induce
Professor Lange to give an enthusiastic and eloquent account of this
sublime scene to the inhabitants of Berlin."
"Then you have already gained him over to our side?" asked Napoleon.
"The ardent champion of the queen has been converted?"
"He has, sire, thanks to his fear of death, and to the five thousand
francs which I offered him, and which had the same effect upon him as a
basilisk's eye on the bird. These German journalists, it seems, are even
more needy than ours, for they can be had for less."
"Five thousand francs," said Napoleon, musingly, "and for that sum he
sells his honor, his fealty, and his conscience! Ah, what miserable
creatures men are, after all, and how right are those who despise them!"
"Sire, will you permit me to enter and make my report?" asked Duroc,
looking in at the door.
"Come in, grand marshal. And now tell me, how is the poor princess? Has
she recovered from her swoon?"
"Yes, sire, she was still unconscious when we carried her into her
husband's room. He uttered a loud cry, rushed to her, and clasped her in
his arms. She was awakened by his kisses and his anxious and tender
ejaculations. A torrent of tears burst forth, and, encircling his neck
with her arms, she exclaimed, 'You are saved! You are mine again! the
emperor has had mercy on me!'"
"Poor woman! She was really in despair, but behaved very nobly and with
a great deal of tact, and I am pleased with her."
Talleyrand scarcely smiled, as he muttered to himself:
"Yes, the emperor is right in being pleased with her, for the poor
little lady really took the sentimental farce for a tragedy, and neither
she nor Duroc looked behind the scenes."[21]
[Footnote 21: This occurrence is strictly historical, but it is
commented upon by the French and German historians in a widely different
sense. The French historians, without exception, treat it as a touching
proof of the emperor's generosity. So does Thiers in his "Histoire du
Consulat et de l'Empire," vol. vii., p. 148; and the Duchess d'Abrantes,
in her "Memoires," vol. xi., p. 340; as well as Constant, in his
"Memoires," vol. iii., p. 380. But the German historians treat it as a
well-calculated intrigue, in order to intimidate the nobility by an act
of severity, and to conciliate them by the subsequent generosity
displayed by the emperor.--Vide "Memoires d'un Homme d'Etat," vol. ix.,
p. 316; Schlosser's "History of the Nineteenth Century," vol. vi., p.
232; Haeusser's "History of Germany," vol iii., p. 42. The view taken by
the German historians is supported by the letter of the Prince von
Hatzfeld, which formed the sole basis of the charges preferred against
him, and which the French take care not to lay before their readers. The
incriminated passage was as follows: "Officially I know nothing of the
French army, but that I saw yesterday a requisition upon the
municipality of Potsdam, signed by D'Aultanne. The French say their army
is eighty thousand strong. Others state the number at only fifty
thousand. The horses of the cavalry are said to be greatly exhausted."]
CHAPTER XIII.
THE SUPPLIANT PRINCES.
The hour when Napoleon was to give audience had come, and the ministers
of the petty German princes, who had hitherto vainly implored Talleyrand
to procure them admission to the emperor, were at length to accomplish
their purpose, and to receive from the mouth of the conqueror himself
the decision of their fate. He was in his cabinet pacing with rapid
steps, while Talleyrand was standing at the desk, and with a pencil
entering a few notes in his memorandum-book.
"No," said the emperor, sullenly, "I shall have no mercy on these petty
German princes, and their miserable whining shall not shake my
resolution. Frederick II., who uttered the most cutting sarcasms against
these petty sovereigns, would have done much better if he had destroyed
these grubs in the tree of royalty--if he had made a new crown from
their small coronets. As he failed to do so, I shall not imitate the
example set by him, and my brother Jerome shall wear the crown which
shall make him a German king."
"Your majesty, then, will adopt the plan of a new kingdom in Northern
Germany, which I had the honor to draw up?"
"Yes, but I shall somewhat extend the boundaries, which are too narrow
as proposed by you. How much of Hesse, for instance, did you incorporate
with the new kingdom?"
"Sire, the entire northern part of Hesse, so that the cities of Marburg
and Hersfeld would form the southern boundary of the new kingdom, and
that Cassel would be a good capital for the new king."
"And you would leave Hanau and Fulda to that perfidious elector?" asked
Napoleon. "No, no, you are too generous. The Elector of Hesse and his
whole family deserve to be annihilated, and I am not willing to have
mercy on him or on the other petty tyrants. Brunswick, Nassau, Cassel,
are all friends of England; they never will be faithful allies of ours;
it is best, therefore, to depose them."
"The elector has already sent hither two ambassadors, whom he has
authorized to give us the most fervent assurances of unwavering fealty,"
said Talleyrand, smiling.
"I know the promises of these legitimate princes!" exclaimed Napoleon,
shrugging his shoulders. "I know what they are worth. So long as they
are in prosperous circumstances, their heart is full of haughtiness and
malice. There are, in their eyes, no rights of man--only rights of
princes; no subjects--only slaves. But no sooner are calamities
approaching than they grow discouraged, and in their cowardice they
degrade themselves before their people so far as to flatter them in the
most fulsome and abject manner, making promises to them which they are
neither able nor willing to fulfil. I have been told that these
loquacious Germans, in their impotent wrath, have called me the 'Scourge
of God!' Well, then, they shall be right. To these petty princes who are
playing the part of great sovereigns, and perverting the _role_ of
royalty and of the throne into a miserable farce--to these caricatures
of sovereignty--I will be a 'scourge of God!' I will scourge them to
death! Who are now waiting in the anteroom?"
"Sire, there are the two ambassadors of the Elector of Hesse, M. de
Malsburg and M. de Lepel; Chancellor von Muller, ambassador of the
Duchess of Weimar; M. de Munchhausen, ambassador of the Duke of
Brunswick; and, finally, a deputation of Poles, who have come to do
homage to your majesty."
"I shall bid the Polish ambassadors welcome," exclaimed Napoleon,
emphatically, "and make to these gentlemen many promises representing
the most brilliant prospects. An insurrection in Poland just now would
be highly conducive to the success of my plans. I will try to bring it
about by all the means at my disposal, and accomplish my purpose. Hence,
I will even go in person to Warsaw to fan the enthusiasm of the Poles."
"Sire," said Talleyrand, "that will be throwing down the gauntlet to the
Austrian government, and if it intends to preserve its Polish provinces,
it will have to take it up."
"We must take care that Austria does not regard as a gauntlet the bone
that I mean to throw to the Poles," said Napoleon. "You will instruct my
ambassador at Vienna to dispel carefully all such suppositions and
apprehensions, by repairing to the Emperor of Austria and assuring him
that I do not intend to fulfil the promises which I am making to the
Poles; that, on the contrary, in case a rising should take place in
Poland, I will take care not to let it reach Galicia, but to confine it
to the Polish provinces of Russia and Prussia, provided the Emperor
Francis maintain his present neutrality. Send instructions to-day to
this effect to my minister in Vienna. And now I will receive the
ambassadors."
"Whom will your majesty admit first?"
"Introduce in the first place the gentlemen from Hesse," said Napoleon,
entering the small reception-room contiguous to his cabinet. Talleyrand
crossed this room and entered the adjoining audience-hall, in which the
plenipotentiaries had already waited for an hour. He beckoned the two
ambassadors of Hesse to approach, and introduced them, by virtue of his
position as minister of foreign affairs, into the reception-room, where
the emperor was waiting for them.
"Sire," he said, "the ambassadors of the Elector of Hesse." Napoleon
returned only a careless nod to their deep obeisances, and went to meet
them.
"I admire the Elector of Hesse, because he dares to remind me of
himself," said the emperor, sternly. "He has been intriguing against me
too long to suppose that I would deal leniently with him. I formerly
made friendly offers to him, and requested him to join the Confederation
of the Rhine. Then it was time for him to prove his friendship and
attachment to me, and to stand by me as a faithful ally. But at that
time he still hoped that I would succumb in the struggle with Prussia;
the tirades of the officers of the Prussian guard resounded in his ears
like the music of a triumph already obtained over me, and drowned the
voice of France. But he would not side openly with Prussia either; he
would remain neutral until he could distinctly see which side would be
victorious. Equivocal in his words and actions, he thought only of the
safety of his person and his riches, and not of his country, his people,
and his honor! Let him now receive the punishment due to his duplicity.
I shall take possession of his states and appropriate his crown. The
Elector of Hesse has ceased to reign."
"Sire," said M. de Lepel, in a timid, suppliant voice, "the elector
dares to appeal to the generosity of your majesty. Marshal Mortier, with
his forces, occupies Cassel and the Hessian states, and declares them to
be French possessions. The elector and his crown-prince only escaped
imprisonment by flight."
"They have been but too lucky to be allowed to escape," exclaimed
Napoleon, angrily. "It is really time to make a rigorous example for
once, and to prove to the sovereigns, who regard war as a game of
hazard, that it may become very serious, and that they may lose their
crown and life by it. That would induce them to weigh well the
consequences of war in their councils of state before taking up arms."
"Sire, the elector, our master, repents of what he has done, and
acknowledges that he was wrong," said M. de Malsburg, humbly. "His
highness is ready to bow to every thing, and to submit to any conditions
your majesty may be pleased to impose on him."
"What does that mean?" asked Napoleon. "What does your elector mean by
conditions? I do not remember having imposed any conditions on him, for
those which I offered six months ago were annulled by the events that
have since taken place."
"But the elector hopes that your majesty, nevertheless, will remember
them, and show favor instead of deserved punishment. Your majesty, by so
sublime an act of generosity, would forever attach our master and his
whole house to the French empire. You would have no more faithful and
devoted servant in Germany than the Elector of Hesse."
"Sire," said Talleyrand, approaching suddenly, "I am free to intercede
for the Elector of Hesse, who is so humbly imploring your majesty to
have mercy on him!"
"Sire, have mercy on our unfortunate master, who is wandering about in
foreign lands, solitary and deserted!" exclaimed M. de Malsburg, in a
tremulous voice.
"Have mercy on our state, and on our people, who are devoted to their
legitimate sovereign," said M. de Lepel. "Sire, our soldiers have been
disarmed and disbanded; our treasury seized, and a French
governor-general is carrying on the administration of our country in the
name of your majesty; and still the sovereign and the people hope that
Napoleon will have mercy on them--Napoleon, who is called the Great, not
only because he knows how to conquer states, but to be generous. Sire,
the sword of the conqueror builds only visible thrones that may perish;
but the magnanimity of the conqueror builds in the hearts of men thrones
that are imperishable."
"Ah, I should not like to count too much on the throne erected in the
heart of the Elector of Hesse," said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders.
"Sire, will not your majesty listen at least to the promises which these
gentlemen are authorized to make in the name of the elector?" asked
Talleyrand.
"Well, what are they?" asked Napoleon. "What else have you to say to me
in the name of your sovereign?"
"Sire, the elector is ready to submit at discretion to your majesty,"
said M. de Lepel. "Above all, he will hasten to join the Confederation
of the Rhine. Besides, he is ready to pay a contribution--to surrender
the fortresses in his states to the French, and to incorporate twelve
thousand men with the French army. He only implores your majesty, in
consideration of all these sacrifices, to leave him his sovereignty, and
the possession of his titles, honors, and hereditary states."
"No," ejaculated the emperor. "No; he has forfeited his sovereignty; he
is unworthy of being a prince. There is no dynasty in Germany which has
been a more persistent enemy to France than that of Hesse-Cassel. Your
master disdained to grasp the hand which I offered to him; the sword
has decided now between him and me. Fate urges me to inflict upon him
the punishment he has deserved by his misdeeds. Do not tell me the
Hessian people sympathize with the fate of the elector, and that they
are fondly attached to their legitimate sovereign. It is not true! The
people of Hesse are nursing the elector, and they are right in doing so.
He sold the blood of his subjects to England for many years, so that she
might wage war against us in both hemispheres. To this trade in human
beings he is indebted for the riches which he has amassed, and with
which he has now fled from his country. Can you deny this, gentlemen?
Can you deny, further, that the elector bitterly reproached one of his
generals, who commanded the troops sold to England in America, with
having held back his men, and with not having led them mercilessly
enough into the fire? Do not the Hessians know that the elector
upbraided him in this manner only because he received twenty-five ducats
for every soldier who was killed in battle? Well, why do you not speak?
Tell me that this is untrue--tell me that thousands of mothers are not
weeping for their sons who have fallen in America, and whose graves they
will never behold--that able-bodied men were not compelled by thousands
to leave their country as sold slaves, and that the imprecations of
those leaving did not unite with the curses of those remaining, in order
one day to become at the throne of God a terrible accusation against him
who ruined his states and his people, and enriched himself with the
blood and tears of his subjects. Why do you not speak? Dare to say again
the Hessian people love their sovereign, and long for his return?
Speak!"
His voice rolled like thunder; his eyes darted fiery glances at the two
gentlemen, who were standing before him, pale and dismayed, and who
dared not look in the face of the emperor. Even Talleyrand, by an
involuntary instinct of fear, had withdrawn several steps to the door,
and his face, usually so calm and imperturbable, was betraying some
apprehensions lest this terrible storm might be discharged on him, too,
and some of its bolts hurled at his head.
The two envoys endeavored to utter a few words, but they spoke in so low
a voice that no one understood them. They felt that the eyes of Napoleon
were still fixed on them, rendering them confused and incapable of
making any reply.
A smile, as a sunbeam, flashed through the clouds on the emperor's face,
and his glance became milder. "I see at least that you are unable to
deny the truth," he said. "Go home, gentlemen! Tell your master his
career is finished, and that he has ceased to reign. Tell the people of
Hesse, however, that they shall be happy and prosperous henceforward.
Delivered from those cruel and infamous compulsory services which the
elector was in the habit of imposing upon his subjects, the people will
now be able to devote their exclusive attention to the culture of their
fields; their taxes shall be diminished, and they shall be ruled in
accordance with generous and liberal principles. Tell the people of
Hesse what I have said to you! Go!"
He waved his hand imperiously toward the door and turned his back to
them. With drooping heads, pale and trembling, MM. de Lepel and de
Malsburg left the room. Napoleon stepped to the window, and was
vigorously drumming a march on the rattling panes.
"Sire," said the feeble voice of Talleyrand behind him, "sire, the
ambassador of the Duke of Brunswick."
"The Duke of Brunswick?" asked Napoleon, quickly turning to the
gentleman who was standing by the side of Talleyrand, and who bowed
deeply as soon as the emperor fixed his eyes upon him. "The Duke of
Brunswick?" repeated Napoleon. "I do not know any Duke of Brunswick. It
may be that I shall remember him after, a while. Let the dear duke wait
until then. I have to attend to more important matters than to quarrel
about antiquated and lost titles. Who else desires an audience?"
"Sire, the ambassador of the Duchess of Weimar," said Talleyrand.
"Introduce him," commanded Napoleon, "and in the mean time, sir, explain
to me," he said to M. de Munchhausen, "--to me who is the Duke of
Brunswick."
"Sire, he is a mortally wounded, a blind old man, who implores your
majesty to permit him to die quietly in his capital, and sleep in the
tomb of his ancestors," said the ambassador, deeply affected. "But in
order to die calmly, he implores your majesty to give him the assurance
that you will not deprive his son of the inheritance of his ancestors,
and that you will not avenge upon the son the misfortunes of the father.
Sire, the dying Duke of Brunswick sends me to recommend his family and
his state to your majesty."
"The ambassador of the Duchess of Weimar," said Talleyrand, entering
with M. de Muller.
The emperor greeted with a rapid nod the envoy of Weimar, and then
turned once more to that of the unhappy Duke of Brunswick.
"I know of no Duke of Brunswick," said Napoleon, sternly. "His name and
titles have been buried on the battle-field of Auerstadt. What would he
who sent you have to say if I were to inflict on the city of Brunswick
that subversion with which, fifteen years ago, he threatened the capital
of the great nation which I command?[22] The Duke of Brunswick has
disavowed the insensate manifesto of 1792; one would have thought that
with age reason had begun to get the better of his passions, and yet he
has again lent the authority of his name to the follies of hot-headed
youth, which have brought ruin upon Prussia. To him it belonged to put
women, courtiers, and young officers, into their proper places, and to
make all feel the authority of his age, of his understanding, and
position. But he had not the strength to do so, and the Prussian
monarchy is demolished, and the states of Brunswick are in my power.
Tell him that I shall show him that consideration which is due to an
unfortunate general, justly celebrated, struck by that fate which may
reach us all; but that I cannot recognize a sovereign prince in a
general of the Prussian army. After his conduct toward France he cannot
expect me to exercise toward him a ridiculous and undeserved
generosity."
[Footnote 22: When the Duke of Brunswick, at the head of the army of the
King of Prussia, took the field against the French, he said, in a
manifesto to his troops, "We will conquer and burn the rapacious city of
Paris."]
The ambassador of Brunswick withdrew, sighing, and with tearful
eyes.[23] The emperor looked gloomily at him till he had disappeared.
[Footnote 23: As soon as M. de Munchhausen returned to Brunswick and
communicated to the unfortunate duke the utter failure of his mission
and Napoleon's threatening reply, the mortally wounded old man left his
capital and state, in order not to run the additional risk of being
taken prisoner by the French. On leaving his palace, carried on a litter
by his faithful servants, he was heard to wail in a low voice, "_Quelle
honte! quelle honte!_" and the tears burst from the sockets of his
ruined eyes. The Duke of Brunswick had gone by way of Celle, Hamburg,
and Altona, to Ottensen, a village on Danish soil. But since the day on
which he had been compelled to leave the palace of his ancestors and his
state as a fugitive, he would take no food; he would not support the
burden of life any more--death by starvation was to deliver him from his
sufferings. It was in vain that his servants and his faithful physician
implored him to desist from this fatal purpose; he remained immovable.
Only once the supplications of his physician succeeded in persuading him
to eat an oyster. Formerly oysters had been a favorite dish of the duke,
and they excited his appetite even now. But scarcely had he tasted it
when he repented of his weakness, and his fixed purpose to die of hunger
returned as intensely as ever. He spit out the oyster and cried, "Man,
what are you doing? You give me my eyes to eat!" Henceforward it was
impossible to shake his determination. He died after long, excruciating
sufferings, on the 10th of November, 1806, at Ottensen. His remains
were brought back to Brunswick on the 10th of November, 1810, by his son
and successor, Duke Frederick William, so famous as commander of the
Corps of Vengeance.]
"And now, Talleyrand, I will go to greet the envoys of Poland," he said,
taking his hat, and advancing a few steps. But at that moment his eyes,
as if accidentally, seemed to behold M. de Muller, who was standing by
the side of Talleyrand. "Ah, I forgot the ambassador of the Duchess of
Weimar. Well, perhaps it would have been fortunate for you if I had
forgotten you. For when remembering you, I must remember the arrogance
and obstinacy of that little duke who dared to oppose me and endeavored
to frustrate my will."
"Sire," said M. de Muller, "the duke believed that his honor, his duty,
and his rank required him not to act contrary to military fealty. He was
connected with Prussia by virtue of military treaties of long years'
standing; hence, he believed it incumbent on him to adhere to them even
when the King of Prussia, to the profound personal regret of the duke,
entered into open hostilities against France."
"Ah, bah! treaties!" ejaculated Napoleon. "I tell you, your duke had not
his senses about him when he dared to oppose me. This is a good time for
any prince to lose his states in a moment. You have just seen how I have
acted in the case of the Duke of Brunswick. I shall have no mercy on
those who oppose me and dare to bid me defiance! I will drive these
wolves back into the swamps of Italy, whence they came!" Throwing his
hat with an angry gesture on the floor, the emperor added in a loud
voice, "Like this hat, I will crush them, so that no one in Germany will
ever think of them. I feel really tempted to treat your prince in the
same manner!"
"Sire, your majesty, however, condescended to lend a favorable ear to
the prayers of the Duchess of Weimar," said the ambassador, in a timid
voice.
"It is true," said Napoleon, "the duchess is a noble lady; if I pardon
her husband, it is only for her sake, and because she is a sister of a
princess closely related to me. But you ought not to rely too much on my
forbearance and generosity. If the duke persists any longer in his
resistance--if it be true that he has not yet left the Prussian
service--I take back the promise I gave the duchess, and your duke shall
learn what it is to oppose me!"
"Sire," said M. de Muller, "the duchess sent me hither in order to
inform your majesty that her husband has left the Prussian service, and
will return to Weimar to occupy himself only with the welfare of his own
state. She ventures now to remind your majesty of your promise to
forgive the duke and leave him in possession of his inheritance."
"Well, if that be so, I shall fulfil my promise," said Napoleon, in a
milder voice. "I shall not deprive your master of his sovereignty; but,
as a matter of course, he will have to submit to some sacrifices. I
shall communicate my wishes concerning this point to my minister, M. de
Talleyrand, and he will inform you of them. Do not fail to give the duke
distinctly to understand that he is indebted for his state and political
existence solely to the respect I feel for his wife and her sister, the
Margravine of Baden." The conqueror nodded to the envoy and walked
toward the door leading into the audience-hall. Talleyrand quickly
picked up the emperor's hat from the floor, and carrying it to him,
said, "Sire, you have lost your hat."
Napoleon smiled. "Well," he said, "now-a-days, when so many lose their
heads and their crowns, a man may be pardoned for once losing his hat.
Come, accompany me to the good, enthusiastic Poles!"
CHAPTER XIV.
TRIUMPH AND DEFEAT.
Scarcely had the emperor crossed the threshold of the audience hall,
when it resounded with cheers and the constantly-repeated shout of
"_Vive l'Empereur_!" He thanked the envoys of Poland for these
greetings, and quickly approached them. They presented a magnificent
spectacle in their national costume, adorned as it was with gorgeous
embroidery and diamonds. "Introduce these gentlemen to me, Talleyrand,"
he said; "I will cherish in my memory the names of those whom henceforth
I shall regard as friends!"
When Talleyrand presented them in succession, Napoleon listened to each
of their high-sounding old aristocratic names with a kindly nod and a
gracious air, which delighted the hearts of the Poles.
"Sire," said the Count of Dombrowsky, a silvery-haired man of seventy
years--"sire, in bending our knees before your majesty, we represent
all Poland, which is exclaiming, 'God save Napoleon the Great!--the
liberator of nations!'"
"God save Napoleon the Great!--the liberator of nations!" echoed the
others, kneeling down and extending their arms toward the emperor.
"Liberator of nations!" repeated Napoleon, smiling. "No one can liberate
nations unless they do so themselves."
"But, in order to liberate themselves, the nations stand in need of a
noble and high-minded chieftain!" exclaimed the old count. "Sire, the
Polish nation trusts in you; it is on its knees, praying your majesty
that you may become the liberator whom it has so long looked for. The
great Napoleon has arisen upon France like a sun--he has come, seen, and
vanquished the universe! O invincible Cæsar! In seeing you, all my
wishes and those of my countrymen are fulfilled! Already we consider our
country as saved, for in your person we worship the wisest and most
equitable of legislators. You will redeem us! You will not permit Poland
to be dismembered. Oh, sire, Poland puts her trust in the redeemer of
nations! Poland puts her trust in Napoleon the Great, who will raise her
from her degradation!"
"Poland puts her trust in you," repeated the Poles; and, in the
enthusiasm of their patriotism, forgetful of etiquette, they crowded
around Napoleon, and, again kneeling, kissed his hands and the hem of
his garment.
Napoleon smilingly allowed them to do so, but his eyes assumed a graver
expression. "Rise now, gentlemen," he said, "I have received through you
the homage of poor, weeping Polonia, but now let me receive also in you
the brave sons of this unhappy land, and speak to the _men_ of Poland.
Rise.'"
The Poles rose, and looked with beaming eyes and in breathless suspense
at the emperor, whose face exhibited the austere regularity of a statue
of ancient Rome.
"It would afford me the liveliest pleasure to see the royal throne of
Poland restored," he said, "for it would also secure the independence of
the adjoining states, which are now threatened by the unmeasured
ambition of Russia. But words and idle wishes are not sufficient. When
the priests, the nobility, and the citizens, make common cause--when
they are determined to conquer or die--then they will triumph, and may
count on my protection."
"Sire, the nobility, priests, and citizens, are already united and
resolved," exclaimed Count Dombrowsky. "We are only waiting for our
liberator to proclaim our independence."
Napoleon assumed a very serious air. "I cannot proclaim your
independence before you are determined, sword in hand, to defend your
rights as a nation."
"Sire, we are so determined!" unanimously shouted the Poles.
The emperor received this interruption with a gracious smile and added:
"You have been upbraided with losing sight of your genuine interest, and
of the welfare of your country, during your long-continued domestic
dissensions. Taught by your misfortunes, be harmonious, and prove to the
world that the whole Polish nation is animated by one spirit."
"Sire, we will prove it to the world," exclaimed the Poles, lifting up
their hands, as if taking a solemn oath.
The emperor turned his stern eyes slowly and piercingly from one to
another. He apparently wished to greet them all, and to read the
innermost recesses of their hearts. Then he said, in a loud voice, "The
restoration of Poland requires blood--blood, and again, _blood_!"
"Sire, we are joyously ready to shed ours for the sacred cause of the
fatherland," exclaimed Count Raczinsky. "We wish to know only, or at
least hope, that it will not be in vain. Sire, Poland is extending her
arms toward you; she is beckoning you with a passionate love; she is
longingly calling to you, 'Great Cæsar, come to my aid, that the sun may
once more beam upon me--that you may disperse the long night of my
torture, and that a happy day may again dawn for me!' Oh, sire, will you
listen to the supplications of Poland?--will you come to her and break her chains?" |
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