by L. Mühlbach
CHAPTER V.
QUIET IS THE CITIZEN'S FIRST DUTY.
The people in the meantime, gathering in still greater numbers in thebroad street under the Linden, returned to the house of Lombard, andsaw, to their great disappointment, that the courier was no longerthere.
"Now, we want to know the news contained in the dispatches, andCounsellor Lombard must tell us," shouted one of the men standing infront of the house; he then commenced hammering the door with hispowerful fists. Others joined him, and to the measure of thisthreatening music the crowd yelled, "The dispatches! the dispatches!Lombard must come out! He must tell us what the dispatches contain! Wewant to know whether our army has been defeated, or has won the battle!"
When no voice replied, nor door nor window opened, the mob, whose angergrew more menacing, seized once more their former weapons, the stones,and hurled them at the house. "He shall not escape from us! We will stayhere until he makes his appearance, and replies to our questions!" theycried. "If he do not come to us, we will go to him and compel him tohear us!"
"Fortunately, you will not find him at home," whispered Lombard, who waslistening at the door. "Every thing is in good order," he added in a lowvoice. "The dear enraged people will have to hammer a good while beforebreaking these bolts. By that time I shall be far from here, on the roadto Stettin."
The cabinet counsellor glided away with a sarcastic smile to the backgate. There stood his wife, weeping piteously and wringing her hands.
M. Lombard, who had hitherto only smiled, now laughed outright. "Truly,"he said, "it is really worth while to make a scene in consequence ofthis demonstration of the people! My dear, I should think our familyought to know how to manage them! Your father has shaved those stupidfiends enough, and my father pulled the wool over their eyes,[9] and, asgood children of our parents, we ought to do so too."
[Footnote 9: Lombard's father was a hair-dresser, and his wife's fathera barber. Lombard liked to jest about his descent, particularly at thedinner-table of some prince or minister. He always alluded to his fatherin the following terms: "_Feu mon pere de poudreuse memoire!_"]
"Oh, Lombard, just listen," wailed his wife, "they are knocking at thedoor with heavy clubs; we must perish if they succeed in forcing it openand entering the house. They will assassinate you, for you have heardtheir imprecations against you."
"_Ma chere_," said Lombard, composedly, "this is not the first time thatI discover that the people despise and persecute me. I knew it long ago.These blockheads will never forgive me for being a Frenchman, and forhaving, consequently, a predilection for France and her heroic emperor.And not only they, but the so-called educated and high-born classesalso, hate me intensely. Throughout all Europe I have been branded as atraitor in the pay of Napoleon. Conspiracies were got up everywhere tobring about my removal. All the princes of the royal house--nay, thequeen herself, united against me.[10] But you see, my dear, that theydid not succeed after all in undermining my position; and the howlingrabble outside will have no better success. Indeed, the fellows seem tobe in earnest. Their blows shake the whole house!"
[Footnote 10: Lombard's own words.--Vide Gentz's Diary in his"Miscellanies," edited by G. Schlesier, vol. iv.]
"They will succeed in breaking in," said his wife, anxiously; "and thenthey will assassinate all of us."
"They will do no such thing, for they do not come for spoils, but onlyfor news," said Lombard. "And then, my love, they know just as well as Ithe German maxim: 'The people of Nuremberg do not hang anybody unlessthey have got him!' but they will not get me, for there comes myfaithful Jean across the yard.--Well, Jean, is every thing ready?" hesaid to the approaching footman.
"Yes," he replied. "The carriage with four excellent horses is waitingfor you, sir. I ordered it, however, not to stop at the garden gate, buta little farther down, in front of another house."
"That was well done, my sagacious Jean. But I hope you did not forgeteither to place several bottles of Tokay wine and some roast fowl in thecarriage for me? The ill-mannered rabble outside will not permit meto-day to lunch at home. Hence I must make up my mind to do so on theroad."
"I have not forgotten the wine nor the roast pheasant, your excellency."
"You have packed up a pheasant!" exclaimed Lombard. "If the noisygentlemen outside there knew that, they would be sure to assert that theEmperor Napoleon had sent it to me as a bribe. Now, Jean, come, we willset out. The street is quiet, I suppose?"
"Perfectly so. All those who have legs have gathered in front of thehouse."
"And all those who have fists are hammering at the door," wailed Mde.Lombard. "Make haste, Lombard--make haste lest it be too late!"
"You are right. I must go," said Lombard, quietly. "Now listen to what Iam going to tell you. So soon as you hear my carriage roll away, be kindenough to repair to the balcony, of the first floor and address thepeople. Their surprise at seeing you will cause them to be silent for amoment."
"But, good Heaven! what am I to say to them?" asked Mde. Lombard, indismay.
"You are to say to them, 'My husband, Cabinet-Counsellor Lombard, is notat home. He has gone to the governor of Berlin, Count vonSchulenburg-Kehnert, and the bearer of dispatches has accompanied him.'Your words will have the same effect as though a pistol were dischargedamong a number of sparrows--all of them will fly away. You see, my dear,there is a very impressive and dramatic scene in store for you, and myfather, _de poudreuse memoire_, and your father, the barber, wouldrejoice in their graves if they could see you haranguing the people fromthe balcony. Farewell, my dear, and manage the affair as skilfully aspossible."
He embraced her hurriedly, and was about to leave the garden, leaning onhis servant's arm, and as fast as his gouty feet would permit it; buthis wife suddenly held him back.
"I cannot go to the parlor," she said in terror, convulsively clingingto Lombard. "Remember, that they are continually hurling stones at ourhouse. Suppose a stone should be thrown into the window and strike myhead?"
"My dear," said Lombard, laughing, "I do not believe any stone passingthrough the window would be immediately dangerous, for you have a hardhead, as I have found out often enough. Farewell, and do as I have toldyou, unless you want the rabble to penetrate into your room. Farewell!"
He disengaged himself rather roughly, and hastened, as fast as hisaching and stiffened feet would permit, to the street contiguous to thegarden.
His wife waited until the departure of the carriage announced to herthat her husband had gone. At the same time the voices outside shoutedwith redoubled fury, "Lombard! We want to see Lombard!" And their blowsthundered louder than ever at the door.
Mde. Lombard sighed; and, commending her body and soul to God, sheproceeded to comply with her husband's instructions, and went to thebalcony.
Lombard had prophesied correctly; profound silence ensued when the wifeof the cabinet counsellor appeared; hence, every one was able tounderstand her words, and no sooner had she uttered them, than the crowddispersed, as her husband had told her.
"To the governor! Let us go to the governor!" they cried, as they movedup the Linden; but they were attracted by a carriage, drawn by six fieryhorses at full gallop. It was the queen, who was about to leave thecapital. She looked even paler and sadder than before, and greeted herfriends on both sides with a heart-rending, melancholy smile. But theyhad not time to greet even the queen, or to be surprised at her speedydeparture, as they rushed toward the house of the governor, CountSchulenburg.
At his residence, also, the windows were covered up, and the gate of thecourt-yard closed. But a large white handbill, containing a few lines ingigantic letters, was posted on the side wall. Thousands of piercingeyes were fixed on the paper, and an imperious demand was made to thefortunate man who stood close to the handbill: "Read! Read aloud!"
"I will read it!" answered a loud, powerful voice. "Be quiet, so as tobe able to hear me!"
Profound silence reigned immediately, and every one heard distinctlythe words, which ran a
s follows:
"_The king has lost a battle. Quiet is the citizen's first duty. Irequest all the inhabitants of Berlin to maintain good order. The kingand his brothers are alive_."
The vast multitude burst into a wail of despair; and when silenceensued, every one seemed paralyzed and stared mournfully at hisneighbor. Suddenly the side-gate of the count's court-yard opened, and acarriage, followed by a large baggage-wagon, made its appearance.
At first, the people timidly stepped back, and looked on wonderingly.But no sooner had they recognized in it the governor of Berlin, Countvon Schulenburg-Kehnert--no sooner had they discovered that his carriagecontained a large number of trunks and boxes, and that the wagon wasalso filled with baggage, and had satisfied themselves that the governorintended to leave the capital at this hour of terror, than attempts weremade to prevent him from setting out. The people stopped the horses, andcried, in tones of exasperation, that it did not behoove the governor toleave the city while it was in danger, and the inhabitants withoutadvice and protection.
Count Schulenburg rose in his carriage. Stretching out his arms in animperious manner, he demanded silence. When the clamor had ceased, hesaid, in a conciliatory tone: "My friends! duty calls me hence, for theorders of the king must be obeyed. But you shall not say that I haveleft the city of Berlin without adequate protection, and that I did notdevote my particular attention to its welfare. I have appointed myson-in-law, the Prince von Hatzfeld, civil governor, and he willzealously provide for the security and interests of the people of thecapital. Forward, coachman!"
The coachman was about to comply with his master's orders, but some ofthe crowd still dared to resist, and refused to let the horses proceed.
"The governor must stay here!" they shouted; "it is incumbent on him notto desert the inhabitants of Berlin, but to assist them in the hour ofdanger!"
"In the hour of danger?" asked the count, with a wondering air. "Why, Ileave my whole family here--my children and grandchildren! Would I do soif the enemy threatened the city?"
No one could combat this argument, and reply to the governor'squestion. The men, therefore, dropped the reins and fell back, when thecoachman whipped the horses into a gallop.
They gazed after the escaping count, and looked sadly at each other,asking anxiously: "What shall we do now? What shall we do when theFrench come?"
"We will meet them sword in hand and drive them back!" exclaimed a youngman, with a noble face.
"Yes, we will do so," said another. "There are no soldiers here; hencewe ourselves must look out for our own defence. We will form volunteercompanies, occupy the gates, and patrol the streets."
"Our army being defeated, a new one has, of course, to be organized,"said another. "We must do this; we must hand in our names, and enlist.Let every one who thinks and feels like myself, follow me to the newgovernor. We will apply to him for permission to organize ourselves forthe defence of the city. Come!" Many hastened with ardent impetuosityfrom all parts of the crowd to join him. Others, seized with admirationand respect, opened a passage, through which the quickly-gatheredcompany of more than three hundred young men marched to the residence ofthe Prince von Hatzfeld.
But he did not admit the deputation of these brave men. He sent word tothem, by his adjutant, that they would receive his definite reply at alater hour. At present he wished them to go home, and avoid, above all,any riotous proceedings in the streets.
The reply which the Prince von Hatzfeld had promised to the deputationsoon appeared on handbills posted at all the street corners. It was asfollows: "It would be improper to conceal from the inhabitants of Berlinthat French troops may shortly occupy the capital. This unexpected eventcannot fail to produce a most painful impression among all classes. Onlythe most implicit confidence in those who take upon themselves thearduous task of alleviating the inevitable consequences of such anevent, as well as of maintaining order, which has become more desirablethan ever, will be able to avert the terrible fate which the slightestresistance, or any disorderly conduct, would bring upon the city. Thecourse recently pursued by the inhabitants of Vienna, under similardistressing circumstances, must have taught those of Berlin that theconqueror only respects quiet and manly resignation after such adefeat. Hence I forbid all gatherings and clamor in the streets, as wellas any public manifestation of sympathy in relation to the rumors fromthe seat of war. For quiet submission is our first duty; we should onlythink of what is going on within our own walls; it is the highestinterest to which we ought to devote our whole attention."
