Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia
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NAPOLEON IN GERMANY
NAPOLEON AND THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA
An Historical Novel
BY L. MUeHLBACH
AUTHOR OF MARIE ANTOINETTE, JOSEPH II. AND HIS COURT, BERLIN AND SANS-SOUCI, FREDERICK THE GREAT AND HIS FAMILY, ETC.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY F. JORDAN
NEW YORK 1908 COPYRIGHT 1867, 1893, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
* * * * *
CONTENTS
BOOK I.
CHAPTER
I. Ferdinand von Schill II. The German Song III. The Oath of Vengeance IV. In Berlin V. Quiet is the Citizen's First Duty VI. The Faithful People of Stettin VII. The Queen's Flight VIII. Napoleon in Potsdam IX. Sans-Souci X. Napoleon's Entry into Berlin XI. Napoleon and Talleyrand XII. The Princess von Hatzfeld XIII. The Suppliant Princes XIV. Triumph and Defeat XV. The Victoria of Brandenburg Gate
BOOK II.
XVI. The Treaty of Charlottenburg XVII. The Secret Council of State XVIII. Baron von Stein XIX. The Queen at the Peasant's Cottage XX. Count Pueckler XXI. The Patriot's Death XXII. Peace Negotiations XXIII. The Slanderous Articles XXIV. The Justification XXV. Countess Mary Walewska XXVI. The Dantzic Chocolate
BOOK III.
XXVII. Tilsit.--Napoleon and Alexander XXVIII. Queen Louisa XXIX. Bad Tidings XXX. Queen Louisa and Napoleon
BOOK IV.
XXXI. Baron von Stein XXXII. The Patriot XXXIII. Johannes von Mueller XXXIV. The Call XXXV. Financial Calamities XXXVI. Prince William XXXVII. The Genius of Prussia XXXVIII. A Family Dinner
BOOK V.
XXXIX. French Erfurt XL. The Conspirators XLI. The Festivities of Erfurt and Weimar XLII. Napoleon and Goethe XLIII. The Chase and the Assassins
BOOK VI.
XLIV. The War with Austria XLV. Josephine's Farewell XLVI. Ferdinand von Schill XLVII. Schill takes the Field XLVIII. Schill's Death XLIX. The Parade at Schoenbrunn L. Napoleon at Schoenbrunn LI. Frederick Staps LII. An Execution
BOOK VII.
LIII. Homeward Bound LIV. The Emperor Francis and Metternich LV. The Archduchess Maria Louisa LVI. The Queen's Birthday LVII. Louisa's Death
ILLUSTRATIONS
Portrait of NapoleonThe Oath of RevengeThe Queen in the Peasant's CottageNapoleon and the Queen of PrussiaThe Emperor Francis and Metternich
NAPOLEON AND QUEEN LOUISA
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
FERDINAND VON SCHILL.
Profound silence reigned in the valleys and gorges of Jena andAuerstadt. The battles were over. The victorious French had marched toJena to repose for a few days, while the defeated Prussians had fled toWeimar, or were wandering across the fields and in the mountains,anxiously seeking for inaccessible places where they might conceal theirpresence from the pursuing enemy.
A panic had seized the whole army. All presence of mind and sense ofhonor seemed to be lost. Every one thought only of saving his life, andof escaping from the conquering arms of the invincible French. Here andthere, it is true, officers succeeded by supplications and remonstrancesin stopping the fugitives, and in forming them into small detachments,with which the commanders attempted to join the defeated and retreatingmain force.
But where was this main army? Whither had the Prince of Hohenlohedirected his vanquished troops? Neither the officers nor the soldiersknew. They marched along the high-roads, not knowing whither to directtheir steps. But as soon as their restless eyes seemed to discern Frenchsoldiers at a distance, the Prussians took to their heels, throwingtheir muskets away to relieve their flight, and surrendering atdiscretion when there was no prospect of escape. In one instance a troopof one hundred Prussians surrendered to four French dragoons, whoconducted their prisoners to headquarters; and once a large detachmenthailed in a loud voice a few mounted grenadiers, who intended perhaps toescape from their superior force, and gave the latter to understand, bysignals and laying down their arms, that they only wished to surrenderand deliver themselves to the French.
The Prussians had reached Jena and Auerstadt confident of victory, andnow had left the battle-field to carry the terrible tidings of theirdefeat, like a host of ominously croaking ravens, throughout Germany.
The battle-field, on which a few hours previously Death had walked in atriumphant procession, and felled thousands and thousands of bleedingvictims to the ground, was now entirely deserted. Night had thrown itspall over the horrors of this Calvary of Prussian glory: the howlingstorm alone sang a requiem to the unfortunate soldiers, who, with openwounds and features distorted with pain, lay in endless rows on theblood-stained ground.
At length the night of horror is over--the storm dies away--the thickveil of darkness is rent asunder, and the sun of a new day arises paleand sad; pale and sad he illuminates the battle-field, reeking with theblood of so many thousands.
What a spectacle! How many mutilated corpses lie prostrate on the groundwith their dilated eyes staring at the sky--and among them, the happy,the enviable! how many living, groaning, bleeding men, writhing withpain, unable to raise their mutilated bodies from the gory bed oftorture and death!
The sun discloses the terrible picture hidden by the pall of night; itilluminates the faces of the stark dead, but awakens the living andsuffering, the wounded and bleeding, from their benumbed slumber, andrecalls them to consciousness and the dreadful knowledge of theirwretched existence.
With consciousness return groans and wails; and the dreadful convictionof their wretched existence opens their lips, and wrings from themshrieks of pain and despair.
How enviable and blissful sleep the dead whose wounds bleed and ache nolonger! How wretched and pitiable are the living as they lie on theground, tortured by the wounds which the howling night wind has dried sothat they bleed no more! Those poor deserted ones in the valley and onthe hills the sun has awakened, and the air resounds with their moansand cries and despairing groans, and heart-rending entreaties forrelief. But no relief comes to them; no cheerful voice replies to theirwails. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, had been placed in the ambulances,and, during the sudden panic, the surgeons had left the battle-fieldwith them. But hundreds, nay thousands, remained behind, and with no oneto succor them!
From among the crowds of wounded and dead lying on the battle-field ofAuerstadt, rose up now an officer, severely injured in the head and arm.The sun, which had aroused him from the apathetic exhaustion into whichhe had sunk from loss of blood and hunger, now warmed his stiffenedlimbs, and allayed somewhat the racking pain in his wounded right arm,and the bleeding gash in his forehead. He tried to extricate himselffrom under the carcass of his horse, that pressed heavily on him, andfelt delighted as he succeeded in loosing his foot from the stirrup, anddrawing it from under the steed. Holding with his uninjured left arm tothe saddle, he raised himself slowly. The effort caused the blood totrickle in large drops from the wound in his forehead, which hedisregarded under the joyful feeling that he had risen again from hisdeath-bed, and that he was still living and breathing. For a moment heleaned faint and exhausted against the horse as a couch; and feeling aburning thirst, a devouring hunger, his dark, flaming eyes wandered
around as if seeking for a refreshing drink for his parched palate, or apiece of bread to appease his hunger.
But his eye everywhere met only stiffened corpses, and the misery andhorror of a deserted battle-field. He knew that no food could be found,as the soldiers had not, for two days, either bread or liquor in theirknapsacks. Hunger had been the ally that had paved the way for theFrench emperor--it had debilitated the Prussians and broken theircourage.
"I must leave the battle-field," murmured the wounded soldier; "I mustsave myself while I have sufficient strength; otherwise I shall die ofhunger. Oh, my God, give me strength to escape from so horrible a death!Strengthen my feet for this terrible walk!"
He cast a single fiery glance toward heaven, one in which his whole soulwas expressed, and then set out on his walk. He moved along slowly andwith tottering steps amid the rows of corpses, some of which were stillquivering and moaning, as death drew near, while others writhed andwailed with their wounds. Unable to relieve their racking pains, and toassist them in their boundless misery, it only remained for him to sinkdown among them, or to avert his eyes, to close his ears to theirsupplications, and escape with hurried steps from this atmosphere ofblood and putrefaction, in order to rescue his own life from theclutches of death.
He hastened, therefore, but his tearful eyes greeted the poor suffererswhom he passed on his way, and his quivering lips muttered a prayer forthem.
At length the first and most horrible part of this dreadful field waspassed, and he escaped from the chaos of the dead and wounded. Thatpart, across which he was walking now, was less saturated with gore, andthe number of corpses scattered over it was much smaller. Here and therewas the wreck of a cannon besmeared with blood and mire, and emptyknapsacks, fragments of broken wagons and muskets, in the utmostdisorder and confusion.
"Spoils for the marauders," whispered the wounded officer, pressing on."It seems they have not been here yet. God have mercy on me, if theyshould come now and look on me, too, as their spoil!"
He glanced around anxiously, and in doing so his eye beheld anunsheathed, blood-stained sabre lying near his feet. He made an effortto take it up regardless of the blood which, in consequence of theeffort, trickled again in larger drops from his wounds.
"Well," he said, in a loud and menacing voice, "I shall defend my lifeat least to the best of my ability; the hateful enemies shall notcapture me as long as I am alive. Forward, then; forward with God! Hewill not desert a faithful soldier!"
And supporting himself on his sabre, as if it were a staff, the officerwalked on. Everywhere he met with the same signs of war and destruction;everywhere he beheld corpses, blood-stained cannon-balls, or muskets,which the fugitives had thrown away.
"Oh, for a drop of water!" groaned the officer, while slowly crossingthe field; "my lips are parched!"
Tottering and reeling, with the aid of his sabre, and by his firm,energetic will, and the resolution of his spirit, he succeeded once morein overcoming the weakness of his body.
He hastened on with quicker steps, and hope now lent wings to his feet,for yonder, in the rear of the shrubbery, he beheld a house; men werethere, assistance also.
At length, after untold efforts, and a terrible struggle with his painand exhaustion, he reached the peasant's house. Looking up with longingeyes to the windows, he shouted: "Oh, give me a drink of water! Havemercy on a wounded soldier!"
But no voice responded; no human face appeared behind the small greenwindows. Every thing remained silent and deserted.
With a deep sigh, and an air of bitter disappointment depicted on hisfeatures, he murmured:
"My feet cannot carry me any farther. Perhaps my voice was too weak, andthey did not hear me. I will advance closer to the house."
Gathering his strength, with staggering steps he approached and foundthe door only ajar; whereupon he opened it and entered.
Within the house every thing was as silent as without; not a human beingwas to be seen; not a voice replied to his shouts. The inside of thedwelling presented a sorry spectacle. All the doors were open; the clayfloor was saturated here and there with blood; the small, low rooms werealmost empty; only some half-destroyed furniture, a few broken jars andother utensils, were lying about. The inmates either had fled from theenemy, or he had expelled them from their house.
"There is no help for me," sighed the officer, casting a despairingglance on this scene of desolation. "Oh, why was it not vouchsafed to meto die on the battle-field? Why did not a compassionate cannon-ball havemercy on me, and give me death on the field of honor? Then, at least, Ishould have died as a brave soldier, and my name would have beenhonorably mentioned; now I am doomed to be named only among the missing!Oh, it is sad and bitter to die alone, unlamented by my friends, andwith no tear of compassion from the eyes of my queen! Oh, Louisa,Louisa, you will weep much for your crown, for your country, and foryour people, but you will not have a tear for the poor lieutenant ofyour dragoons who is dying here alone uttering a prayer for a blessingon you! Farewell queen, may God grant you strength, and--"
His words died away; a deadly pallor overspread his features, his headturned dizzy, and a ringing noise filled his ears.
"Death! death!" he murmured faintly, and, with a sigh, he fell senselessto the ground.
Every thing had become silent again in the humble house; not a humansound interrupted the stillness reigning in the desolate room. Only thehum of a few flies, rushing with their heads against the window-panes,was heard. Once a rustling noise was heard in a corner, and a mouseglided across the floor, its piercing, glittering eyes lookedsearchingly around, and the sight of the bloody, motionless form, lyingprostrate on the floor, seemed to affright it, for it turned and slippedaway even faster than it had approached, and disappeared in the corner.
The sun rose higher, and shone down on the dimmed windows of the house,reflecting their yellow outlines on the floor, and illuminated the goldlace adorning the uniform of the prostrate and motionless officer.
All at once the silence was broken by the approach of hurried steps, anda loud voice was heard near at hand, shouting:
"Is there anybody in the house?"
Then every thing was still again. The new-comer was evidently waitingfor a reply. After a pause, the steps drew nearer--now they were alreadyin the hall; and now the tall, slender form of a Prussian officer, witha bandaged head and arm, appeared on the threshold of the room. When hebeheld the immovable body on the floor, his pale face expressed surpriseand compassion.
"An officer of the queen's dragoons!" he ejaculated, and in the nextmoment he was by his side. He knelt down, and placed his handinquiringly on the heart and forehead of the prostrate officer.
"He is warm still," he murmured, "and it seems to me his heart is yetbeating. Perhaps, perhaps he only fainted from loss of blood, just as Idid before my wounds had been dressed. Let us see."
He hastily drew a flask from his bosom, and pouring some of its contentsinto his hand, he washed with it the forehead and temples of his poorcomrade.
A slight shudder now pervaded his whole frame, and he looked with ahalf-unconscious, dreamy glance into the face of the stranger, who hadbent over him with an air of heart-felt sympathy.
"Where am I?" he asked, in a low, tremulous voice.
"With a comrade," said the other, kindly. "With a companion inmisfortune who is wounded, and a fugitive like you. I am an officer ofthe Hohenlohe regiment, and fought at Jena. Since last night I have beenwandering about, constantly exposed to the danger of falling into thehands of the enemy. My name is Pueckler--it is a good Prussian name. Yousee, therefore, it is a friend who is assisting his poor comrade, andyou need not fear any thing. Now, tell me what I can do for you?"
"Water, water!" groaned the wounded officer, "water!"
"You had better take some of my wine here," said the other; "it willquench your thirst, and invigorate you at the same time."
He held the flask to the lips of his comrade, and made him sip a littleof his wine.
&
nbsp; "Now it is enough," he said, withdrawing the flask from his lips. "Sinceyou have quenched your thirst, comrade, would you not like to eat apiece of bread and some meat? Ah, you smile; you are surprised because Iguess your wishes and know your sufferings. You need not wonder at it,however, comrade, for I have undergone just the same torture as you.Above all, you must eat something."
While speaking, he had produced from his knapsack a loaf of bread and apiece of roast chicken, and cutting a few slices from both, placed themtenderly in the mouth of the sufferer, looking on with smiling joy whilethe other moved his jaws, slowly at first, but soon more rapidly andeagerly.
"Now another draught of wine, comrade," he said, "and then, I may dareto give you some more food. Hush! do not say a word--it is a sacred workyou are doing now, a work by which you are just about to save a humanlife. You must not, therefore, interrupt it by any superfluousprotestations of gratitude. Moreover, your words are written in youreyes, and you cannot tell me any thing better and more beautiful thanwhat I am reading therein. Drink! So! And here is a piece of bread and awing of the chicken. While you are eating, I will look around in theyard and garden to find there some water to wash your wounds."
Without waiting for a reply, he hastily left the officer alone with thepiece of bread, the wing of the chicken, and the flask. When hereturned, about fifteen minutes later, with a jar filled with water, thebread and meat had disappeared; but instead of the pale, immovable, andcadaverous being, he found seated on the floor a young man with flashingeyes, a faint blush on his cheeks, and a gentle smile on his lips.
"You have saved me," he said, extending his hand toward his returningcomrade. "I should have died of hunger and exhaustion, if you had notrelieved me so mercifully."
"Comrade," said the officer, smiling, "you have just repeated the samewords which I addressed two hours ago to another comrade whom I met onthe retreat; or, to speak more correctly, who found me lying in theditch. The lucky fellow had got a horse; he offered me a seat behindhim. But I saw that the animal was too weak to carry both of us; hence Idid not accept his offer, but I took the refreshments which he gave tome, and with which he not only saved my life, but yours too. You are,therefore, under no obligations to me, but to him alone."
"You are as kind as you are generous," said the other, gently,involuntarily raising his hand toward his forehead.
"And I see that you are in pain," exclaimed the officer, "and that thewound in your head is burning. Mine has been dressed already, and myshattered arm bandaged--for I received both wounds yesterday in theearly part of the battle, and the surgeon attended to them while thebullets were hissing around us."
"I was wounded only when every thing was lost," sighed the other. "Amember of the accursed imperial guard struck me down."
"I hope you gave him a receipt in full for your wounds?" asked theofficer, while tenderly washing the wound with the water he had broughtalong in the broken jar.
The other officer looked up to him with flashing eyes.
"I gave him a receipt which he has already shown to God Himself," hesaid, "provided there is a God for these accursed French. My sword clefthis skull, but I fell together with him."
"Your wound here in the forehead is of no consequence," said theofficer; "the stroke only cut the skin. Let us put this moistenedhandkerchief on it."
"Oh, now I am better," said the other; "now that the wound burns lesspainfully, I feel that life is circulating again through all my veins."
"And what about your arm?"
"A lancer pierced it. I hope he was kind enough not to touch the bone,so that the arm need not be amputated. It is true, it pains severely;but, you see, I can move it a little, which proves that it is notshattered. Now, comrade, do me still another favor--assist me inrising."
"Here, lean firmly on me. There! I will lift you up--now you are on yourlegs again. Lean on me still, for you might become dizzy."
"No, I shall not. I feel again well and strong enough to take the burdenof life on my shoulders. Thank God! I am able to stand again. For,however crushed and trampled under foot we may be, we will submit to ourfate manfully, and stand erect. The conqueror and tyrant shall notsucceed in bending our heads, although he has broken our hearts. Ah,comrade, that was a terrible day when all Prussia sank in ruins!"
"You were in the thickest of the fray? The regiment of the queen'sdragoons fought at Auerstadt, I believe?"
"Yes, it fought at Auerstadt, or rather it did the same as all the otherregiments--it deserted. Only a few squadrons complied with the urgentexhortations of the king, who led us against the squares of the enemynear Hassenhausen. His own horse was shot; we officers stood our ground,but the dragoons ran away.[Historical] Ah, I wept with rage, and if mytears could have been transformed into bullets, they would not have beendirected against the enemy, but against our own cowardly dragoons. Thebattle would have been won if our soldiers had not disgracefully takento their heels. All shouts, orders, supplications, were in vain; thesoldiers were running, although no enemy pursued them; the panic hadrendered them perfectly crazy."
"And do you really believe, comrade, that we owe the loss of the battleexclusively to the cowardice of the soldiers?" asked the officer. "Didour generals do their duty? Ah, you look gloomy, and do not reply. Thenyou agree with me? Let us, however, speak of all these things afterward,but first of ourselves."
"Yes, first of ourselves!" exclaimed the other, starting from his gloomyreflections. "Count Pueckler, you were kind enough to tell me your name,when you relieved an unknown sufferer in so humane a manner, and therebysaved his life. Now permit me to tell you my name, too, so that you mayknow at least who will always revere your memory with affection andgratitude. I am Second-Lieutenant Ferdinand von Schill. You see, it is avery humble name; still I had solemnly vowed that it should not beunknown in the battles that were to be fought."
"And I see it written on your brow, comrade, that you will at somefuture time make up for what fate has now prevented you fromaccomplishing," said Count Pueckler, kindly offering his hand toLieutenant von Schill. "Yet now let us not think of the future, but ofthe present. We are disabled, and will be helpless as soon as thewound-fever sets in; and we may be sure that that will be to-night. Wemust, therefore, find a place of refuge; for, if we remain here, withoutassistance, and without food, we shall surely be lost."
"You are right; we must leave this house," said Schill; "we must try toreach a city or village. Come, let us go. You are armed, and I have gota sabre, too. Let us go, but previously let us swear that we will notsurrender to the French, but rather die, even should it be necessary tocommit suicide! You have a knife, and when you cut some bread for me, Isaw that it was very sharp. Will you give it to me?"
"What for?"
"I want to stab myself, as soon as I see that I cannot escape from theenemy!"
"And I? What is to become of me?"
"Before killing myself, I will stab you with my sabre. Will that contentyou?"
"It will. Be careful, however, to hit my heart; do not merely wound, butkill me."
"Ah, I see that we understand each other, and that the same heart ispulsating in our breast!" exclaimed Schill, joyfully. "Let us die,rather than be captured by the enemy and depend on the mercy of theCorsican tyrant! Now, comrade, let us go! For you are right; thewound-fever will set in toward evening, and without assistance we shallbe lost."
"Come," said Pueckler, "place your uninjured arm in mine. It seems fatehas destined us for each other, for it has ruined your right arm and myleft arm; thus we can walk at least side by side, mutually supportingourselves. I shall be your right hand, and you will lend me your leftarm when I have to embrace anybody. But, it is true, no one will nowcare for our embrace; every one will mock and deride us, and try to readin the bloody handwriting on our foreheads: 'He is also one of thevanquished Prussians!'"
"Comrade, did you not tell me a little while ago, that it would bebetter for us to attend to our own affairs, before talking about othermatters?"
And, leaning on each other, the two officers left the house.