by L. Mühlbach
CHAPTER II.
THE GERMAN SONG.
It was a sunny morning in autumn; the two wounded officers were inhalingthe bracing air in long draughts, and their eyes were wandering over thetransparent sky and the picturesque landscape.
"And to think that my eyes would never more have seen all this, if youhad not had mercy on me!" said Schill, with a grateful glance at hiscompanion.
"Ah, my friend," sighed Pueckler, mournfully, "we shall not always beholdthe sky and this beautiful, silent scene, but it may easily happen thatwe shall see much misery to-day, and that you will curse your eyes forbeing compelled to perceive it! Still you are right--it is better tolive, even in anguish and distress, than to die in anguish and distress;for he who lives has still a future before him, and is able to strive init for revenge and compensation for the past. Let us descry ourimmediate future from the hill yonder, and there decide on the directionwe shall take."
They walked toward the neighboring hill. Frequently they had to stop onthe way; frequently they sank down exhausted; but their will andyouthful energy overcame their weakness, and finally they reached theirdestination: they stood on the summit, and were able to survey the wholecountry for miles around.
"Yonder, where that dreadful smoke is rising, is the battle-field ofAuerstadt!" said Schill, after a long pause, during which they had takenbreath.
"Yes, and beyond those hills is Jena," said Pueckler, sadly. "Those aretwo melancholy names for a Prussian ear, and, like Ulysses, I shouldlike to close mine so as not to hear that siren voice of death any more;for, I tell you, whenever I hear those two names, I am driven todespair, and would like to throw myself into that abyss!"
"My friend, it seems to me we are already in the abyss, and our firstand most earnest endeavors should be directed toward saving us from it,"said Schill, shrugging his shoulders. "Our first step should be to getsafely through the enemy's lines, in order to escape from the dangers towhich a collision with the French would expose us. Whither shall we turnnow? Have you formed already a definite plan, count?"
"Being disabled from active service by my wounds, I shall repair to myestates in Silesia, and remain there till I have recovered. And you,comrade--will you permit me to make you an offer? If you have not yetcome to a different decision, you ought to accompany me, and stay at myhouse till your wounds are healed. I have splendid woods, and facilitiesfor angling on my estates; and if you like hunting and fishing, I amsure a sojourn at my house will afford you plenty of amusement."
"But you forget that my right arm is wounded, count," said Schill, witha melancholy smile; "hence, I shall be but a poor companion for you, andought not to accept your kind offer. I confess, moreover, that my mindis too restless, and my heart too deeply grieved, to enjoy the peace andquiet of country life. I must remain in the noise and turmoil of theworld, and see what will become of poor Prussia. I intend going toKolberg; the fortress is strong and impregnable; it will be aninsurmountable bulwark against the enemy, and I have several intimatefriends at the fortress. I will stay with them till I am well again."
"Our paths, then, will soon be different. You will go to the north; I,to the east. But, for a few days, we shall still remain together, forthe wound-fever will compel us to advance very slowly. Let us look outnow for a dinner, and for a place where we may safely sleep to-night."
"And, it seems to me, I see a prospect of obtaining both. Yonder," saidSchill, pointing with his left hand to a small point on the horizon. "Doyou perceive that steeple? There is a village, and consequently thereare men; and, as it is situated northeast, it is in the right directionfor both of us."
"You are right; we will direct our steps thither," exclaimed CountPueckler. "May Fate be propitious to us, and keep the French out of ourpath!"
They walked down the hill on the opposite side, and then commencedcrossing, arm in arm, the stubble-field that lay stretched out beforethem. All around them nothing whatever was stirring--not a sound, noteven the chirping of a bird, or the humming of a beetle, interrupted theprofound silence; neither a house, nor any trace of human life, was tobe seen anywhere.
"It is as still here as the grave," whispered Count Pueckler.
"Death probably has already stalked across this field on its way to Jenaand Auerstadt," said Schill, "and for this reason all Nature seems tohold its breath lest it should return."
"But it will not return very soon, for I should think Death itself mustbe exhausted by the terrible work it had to perform on the battle-field.Comrade, now that we know our destination, and have arranged ouraffairs, we may converse a little about the dreadful events whichoccurred yesterday. You were at Auerstadt. Do you know that at Jena wehad no knowledge whatever of the battle that was going on at Auerstadt,and were informed of it only in the evening, after we had beencompletely routed? We did not hear the reports of your guns!"
"So it was with us, too. At Auerstadt we did not know that a battle wasbeing fought at Jena; the roar of our own artillery prevented us fromhearing yours. Only when the king had sent off several orderlies toorder the Prince of Hohenlohe and General Ruechel to cover our retreat,we learned, from the chasseur who returned first, that a battle had beenfought also at Jena, and that Hohenlohe and Ruechel were unable to affordus any assistance. I cannot describe to you the dismay produced by thisintelligence. Every one thought only of saving himself; there was nolonger any obedience, sense of honor, or bravery. The generals were tooconfused to issue orders, and the soldiers too frightened to listen totheir officers."
"And the king?"
"The king was evidently determined to die. His face was livid, his lipswere quivering; wherever the bullets rained down most murderously,thither he spurred his horse. He had two horses killed, but remaineduninjured. It seems Fate was too unmerciful toward him: it had decreedthat the King of Prussia should not die, but learn in the stern schoolof suffering and experience what Prussia needs."
"And the Duke of Brunswick--the commander-in-chief?"
"Ah, you do not yet know the terrible fate that befell him? A bulletpassed through his head; it entered on the right side, and came out onthe left. This happened in the early part of the battle; the duke wasbrought back to Auerstadt in a fainting condition; his wound was dressedthere, and then he was carried by some soldiers to Blankenburg."
"The duke is not yet dead, then, notwithstanding this terrible wound?"
"No," said Schill, solemnly, "God would not let him die without reapingthe fruit of what he had sown. For his mental blindness God punished himwith physical blindness. The ball destroyed both his eyes."
"Dreadful!" muttered Count Pueckler.
"You pity him?" asked Schill, harshly. "You had better pity thethousands who are lying on the bloody battle-fields of Jena andAuerstadt, and accusing the duke of having murdered them! You had betterpity Prussia's misfortunes and disgrace, which have been brought aboutby the duke! For, I tell you, the indecision, vacillation, and timidityof the duke were the sole causes of our terrible disaster. All of usfelt and knew it. None of the younger officers and generals had anydoubt about it; every one knew that those old gentlemen, who hadoutlived their own glory, and still believed that they lived in the daysof Frederick the Great, were unequal to the occasion, to the presenttime, and to the present war. Because we were aware of this, we made theutmost efforts to bring about a change of commanders. We elected adeputation of officers, and sent them to General Kalkreuth, for thepurpose of laying our complaints and prayers before him, and ofimploring him to induce the king to deprive the duke of his command,and to intrust it to younger and more resolute hands. The deputationconsisted of none but skilful, prominent, and highly-esteemed officers,who boldly declared it to be their firm conviction that the king was indanger of losing his crown and his states, if the Duke of Brunswickshould remain at the head of the army."[1]
[Footnote 1: Vide Frederick von Gentz's writings, edited by G.Schlesier, vol. ii., p. 314.]
"And what did General Kalkreuth reply to them?"
"The g
eneral asked, in a harsh tone, for a further explanation of theirwords, and the officers gave it to him. They censured the duke's idea ofestablishing a camp at Weimar, and dwelt contemptuously on the reasonsthat might have induced him to do so. They proved, by referring to thewhole proceedings of the duke, that he knew neither what he was doingnor what he wanted to do; neither where he was, nor whither he wasgoing; and they added that, in consequence of this deplorable state ofaffairs, the whole army was filled with the most startling anddiscouraging rumors.[2]"
[Footnote 2: Ibid., vol. ii., p. 315.]
"But their prayers, their remonstrances, their angry denunciations, andpredictions, were unavailing. General Kalkreuth could not make up hismind to represent the dangers of the situation to the king, although hehimself was just as well satisfied of its critical character as all theyounger officers of the army. And thus we were defeated, disastrouslydefeated and routed, in spite of all warnings of our consciousness ofthe danger, and of all predictions. This time it was not theinexperience and impetuosity of youth, but the antiquated method andslowness of age, that brought about our ruin."
"Yes, you are right," sighed Count Pueckler; "our old generals are thecause of our misfortunes."
"Do you know, for instance," asked Schill, indignantly, "why we lost theimportant defile of Koesen? In consequence of the night-sweat of Generalvon Schmettau!"
"Ah, you can jest even now!" said Pueckler, sadly.
"I do not jest, by any means; on the contrary, I am in dead earnest!The Duke of Brunswick had ordered the general, on the day before thebattle, to start early next morning with his division, and occupy thedefile of Koesen. His adjutant, Lieutenant von Pfuel, went repeatedly tohis headquarters to remind him of the urgent necessity of setting out,and to implore him to rise from his bed. 'But, sir,' replied the oldgeneral, 'let me wait at least until my night-sweat is gone; Iunderstand it is a very chilly morning!'[3] The old general did not riseuntil nine o'clock, and started at ten with his division toward Koesen.When he reached the defile he found that Marshal Davoust had caused itto be occupied by a regiment of infantry scarcely an hour before. Thatnight-sweat of the old general has become the death-sweat of many bravePrussians, and the gray hairs of the old chieftain will now cause thehair of our youth to turn gray with shame and grief."
[Footnote 3: Vide Foerster's "Modern History of Prussia," vol. i., p.757.]
"Oh, it is a terrible disgrace for us, and I hardly know how we are tobear it in a manly and dignified manner," said Count Pueckler, gloomily."In these hours of melancholy only we feel the full extent of our ardentlove for our country; now only we perceive the indissoluble ties thatattach our hearts to it! I should like to pour out my blood in tears forthis crushed, disgraced, and yet so dearly-beloved country, and I feelthat if we do not rise speedily from our degradation, I shall die ofdespair!"
"You will not die," said Schill, gravely, "for all of us who lovePrussia, and are devoted to her honor, must not think of dying at thepresent time; all of us must assist Prussia in rising again from thedust, so that she may once more boldly meet the tyrant, and take revengefor herself and for Germany! For Prussia is Germany now, because she isthe only power in Germany that has resisted and braved the Corsicanconqueror. But God wanted first to arouse her from her arrogance andvanity, and make the weakness of her leading men known to her, that shemight rise after a noble regeneration and with redoubled strength. Lifesprings from death, and Prussia had to fall so low as to break her olddecrepit limbs that were still kept together by her glory from the SevenYears' War; and then the young, vigorous soldier of the new century willarise and draw the sword to deliver his subjugated country, and avengeits desecrated honor!"
"Then you hope still for a change for the better?" asked Count Pueckler,mournfully.
"I base my hopes on the propitious star of Prussia," exclaimed Schill,enthusiastically, "on the future, on the wrath and grief which willawake now in all Prussian hearts, arousing the sluggards, strengtheningthe vacillating, and urging the timid. I base my hopes on the tears ofQueen Louisa, which will move Heaven to help us and awaken avengers onearth. And, for ourselves, comrade, with our wounds, with our disgrace,we must be like the spirits of vengeance that sweep across the heath inthe howling storm of diversity, and awaken the sleeper who would giveway to dreams of peace and inaction. Prussia must not make peace in herpresent calamitous condition; she must fill the hearts and minds of allwith longings for war, till the whole nation arises in its rage andexpels the enemy from the country! My friend, we have now witnessed thedownfall of Prussia, but henceforth we must exert ourselves in order towitness also her regeneration. We ourselves must be the--"
"Hush!" said Pueckler, hastily. "Just look there, and then take yoursabre."
They were now near a field-path leading to a small wood which a slenderyouth had just left, and was hastily approaching them. As yet, however,he was so far from them that they were unable to distinguish hisfeatures or his dress, and to discern whether he was an armed soldier ora peaceable wanderer.
"It is, doubtless, a French soldier, and his comrades are lying inambush," murmured Pueckler, placing his hand on his sword.
"If he wants to attack us, he had better say his death-prayers," saidSchill, calmly. "There are two of us, and each has one uninjured arm."
The youth had meanwhile drawn nearer, and they saw that he did not wearany uniform.
"He is very young," said Pueckler, "and a civilian. He has apparently notyet seen us. That bush yonder is concealing us from his eyes. Let usstoop a little, and, as the path lies beyond, he may pass by withoutnoticing us."
They knelt down behind the bush, but, while doing so, took their swords,and prepared for an attack. Then they held their breath and listened.
Profound silence reigned around, and nothing was to be heard but thequick steps of the wanderer, who drew nearer and nearer. Suddenly thissilence was interrupted by a fresh and youthful voice, singing the airof a popular song.
"Ah, he sings," murmured Schill. "He who can sing to-day, must be veryharmless, and it is not worth while to kill him."
"Hush! hush! let us listen to his song. He is now singing words to themelody. Just listen!"
The voice resounded nearer and nearer to the two listeners, and theycould understand the words he was singing:
O Hermann! for thy country's fall No tears! Where vanquished valor bled The victor rules, and Slavery's pall, Upon these hills and vales is spread. Shame burns within me, for the brave Lie mouldering in the freeman's grave.
No voice! where sturdy Luther spoke Fearless for men who dared be free! O would that Heaven's thunder woke My people for their liberty! Must heroes fight and die in vain?-- Ye cowards! grasp your swords again!
Revenge! revenge! a gory shroud To tyrants, and the slaves that yield' Eternal honor calls aloud For courage in the battle-field. Who loves or fears a conquered land That bows beneath the despot's hand?
And whither flee? Where Winkelried And Tell and Ruyter bravely broke Oppression's power--their country freed-- All--all beneath the usurper's yoke! From Alpine fountains to the sea The patriot dead alone are free.
My people! in this sorrowing night, The clanking of your chains may be The sign of vengeance, and the fight Of former times the world may see, When Hermann in that storied day As a wild torrent cleft his way.
No idle song, O youth! thy boast. In self-born virtue be as one Who is himself a mighty host By whose sole arm is victory won. No blazoned monument so grand As death for the dear Fatherland.
To die! how welcome to the brave! The tomb awakes no coward fear Save to the wretched, trembling slave Who for his country sheds no tear. To crown me with a fadeless wreath Be thine, O happy, sacred death!
Come, shining sword! avenge my dead! Alone canst thou remove this shame. Proud ornament! with slaughter r
ed Restore my native land its fame. By night, by day, in sun or shade, Be girt around me, trusty blade.
The trumpet on the morning gale! Arm! forward to the bloody strife! From loftiest mountain to the vale Asks dying Freedom for her life. Our standard raise, to glory given, And higher still our hearts to Heaven.[4]
[Footnote 4: This is one of Arndt's soul-stirring, patriotic hymns,published in 1806. It is difficult to render into readable English thisspecies of German heroic verse so as to preserve its rhythm. All thethought of the original is however expressed in the translation. Theonly change of any importance is the transposition of the seventhstanza.]
Keine Thraene, Hermann, fuer dein Volk? Keine Thraene, und die Schande brennet, Und der Feind gebietet, we die Freien Siegten und fielen?
Keine Stimme laut, wo Luther sprach? Alle Donner, die der Himmel sendet, Sollten rufen: Volk erwache! feiges; Greife zum Schwerte.
Rache! Rache! heissen, blut'gen Tod Sklavenfuersten und dem Knecht der fliehet! Maennerwort gefuerchtet und gepriesen, Maennliche Tugend!
Ach wohin? wo Winkelried erlag, Wilhelm schlug, und Ruyter tapfer siegte; Auf den hoechsten Alpen, in den tiefsten Suempfen ist Knechtschaft.
Auch du, Hermann's, auch du, kuehnes Volk? Auf! Erwache! Schuettle deine Ketten, Dass die Schmach die Welt vernehme, bald auch Blutige Rache!
Lieder helfen hier and Maeler nicht. Maeler? Tief im Herzen sei das Denkmal, An dem Thurm der selbstgebornen Tugend Hebe dich, Juengling!
Und voran geworfen kuehn die Brust, Und empor das Auge zu dem Himmel, Hoch die Fahne! Hoch zum Himmel! Hoeher Flammende Herzen.
Tod, du suesser, fuer das Vaterland, Suesser als der Brautgruss, als das Lallen Auf dem Mutterschooss des ersten Kindes, Sei mir willkommen!
Was das Lied nicht loeset, loest das Schwert, Blinkend Heil, umguerte meine Hueften! Vor der Schande kannst du Tapfre retten, Zierde der Tapfern!
Just when the youth had sung the last verse in a ringing voice, he hadreached the bush. And now there arose above it two pale heads, wrappedin white, blood-stained handkerchiefs, and sang in enthusiastic tone thelast verse of the song they had heard:
Was das Lied nicht loeset, loest das Schwert! Blinkend Heil, umguerte meine Hueften! Vor der Schande kannst du Tapfre retten, Zierde der Tapfern!
