Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia

by L. Mühlbach

  CHAPTER XXI.

  THE PATRIOT'S DEATH.

  Great excitement reigned in the streets of Breslau on the following day.The people were standing in dense groups, and each of them was addressedby speakers, who recapitulated the sufferings that had already beenundergone, and the agony in store for them if the city should persist inits resistance.

  "Who will dare to resist the Emperor Napoleon and his army?" exclaimedone. "We were audacious enough to do so, and what has become of us! Ourhouses have been demolished--our money is gone--our sons, brothers, andfathers, have been crippled or killed! When Napoleon once stretches outhis hand toward a country, and says, 'I will have it!' it is useless toresist him, for he always accomplishes what he intends. God or the devilhas given him the power to do so!"

  "Why torment ourselves by further efforts?" cried another. "We shallhave to submit. Heaven itself is against us. See the ice-crust on theOder. This cold weather is a fresh ally of the French! So soon as theOder and the ditches are firmly frozen over, they will cross, and takethe city by assault. Of course, we shall be required again to risk ourlives in breaking the ice amid bullets and shells. The only question is,whether you will do so."

  "No! no!" shouted the crowd. "We have suffered enough! We will neitherbreak the ice in the Oder, nor extinguish the numerous fires. Too manyof our countrymen have fallen already; it is time for us to think ofsaving the lives that remain!"

  "No!" cried a powerful voice--"no! it is time for you to think of savingyour honor!"

  "Count Pueckler!" murmured the people, looking at the tall, imperiousman, who had mounted the curb-stone at the corner of the market-place,and cast angry glances on the crowd.

  "Will you listen to me?" asked the count, almost imploringly.

  "Yes, yes," exclaimed a hundred voices, "we will listen to you!" And allapproached and encircled him.

  "Now speak, count," said one of the men, standing closest to him. "Weknow that you are a good patriot, and a noble friend of the people. Tellus what we ought to do. Tell us whether you think that there is hope forus!"

  "There is," replied Count Pueckler. "There is hope of succor."

  "Ah, succor will not come," cried the people, scornfully, "and though itshould, the generals would act again as if they could not see any thing,keep the gates shut, and fail to make a sortie. Speak of other hopesthat you think are still left to us, count!"

  "Well, there is the hope that the weather will relax--that the Oder andthe ditches will not freeze, and that the enemy, consequently, will beunable to cross them. By bombardment alone Breslau cannot be taken. Ourfortifications will resist the enemy's artillery a long while; and, ifyou do not waver, but struggle on bravely, you may preserve to your kinghis most beloved province and one of his best fortresses. Think of thehonor it would reflect on you if the whole world should say: 'Thecitizens of Breslau preserved to their king the great capital ofSilesia! During the days of danger and distress they hastened fearlesslyto the ramparts, not only to carry food and refreshments to thedefenders, but to transform themselves into soldiers, to man the guns,and hurl balls at the enemy!'"

  "Yes, yes, we will do so! That will be glorious!" shouted the men, andtheir eyes flashed, and they lifted up their arms as if they weregrasping their swords. "Yes, we will march out to the ramparts--we willbecome brave soldiers, and fight for our city and for our king!"

  "And you will lose your limbs," cried a sneering voice from the crowd;"you will be crippled--die of hunger--ruin yourselves and your children;and it will be in vain, after all! You will be unable to save Breslau,for the odds are too great, and we ourselves have already been weakenedtoo much."

  "Alas, he is right!" lamented the people, and those who were about torush to the walls stood still, and their courage seemed to disappear.

  "No!" exclaimed Count Pueckler, ardently--"no, he is not right! It is nottrue; but even if it were true that we are too weak to hold out, wouldit not be much more honorable to be buried under the ruins of the city,than to live in disgrace and bow to a new master? Think of the shame ofMagdeburg; remember that a cry of indignation was uttered by the wholeof Prussia at the treachery and cowardice of that city! Citizens ofBreslau, do you want to be talked of in the same manner? Do you desireto act so pusillanimously that your children one day will have to blushfor their fathers? Do you want to behave so ignominiously, that yourwives and sweet-hearts will deride you and call you cowards?"

  "No, no!" shouted the people. "We will fight--fight for our honor andour king."

  "Clear the way!" cried loud and imperious voices at that moment, and aprocession of over a hundred citizens marched up Ohlau Street; it washeaded by an old man with flowing silvery hair, who held a large foldedpaper in his hands.

  The crowd, that hitherto only had had eyes and ears for Count Pueckler,now bent inquiring glances on the newcomers, and looked searchingly andwonderingly at the old man, whom every one knew to be one of the mostvenerable and respectable citizens of Breslau.

  "Where are you going, Mr. Ehrhardt?" asked many at the same time. "Whatis the object of your procession? What is the paper you hold in yourhands?"

  Mr. Ehrhardt held it up. "This paper," he said, "is a petition drawn upby the citizens who are following me. In it we depict the sufferings andprivations we have undergone, and pray that a speedy end may be put tothem. Matters cannot go on in this way any more; the distress is toogreat; we have borne all we can--we must think of ourselves for the sakeof our wives and children. We have done enough to save our honor;self-preservation is also a duty. We have stated all this in ourpetition, and are about to take it to the city hall, in order to depositit there by permission of the authorities, so that every one may signit. This afternoon it will be presented to the governor. Hasten, then,to add your signatures, for the more the better. When the governor seesthat the citizens are united, he will have to comply with our demandsand enter into a capitulation. The enemy sent a flag of truce thismorning; the bearer, I have been told, imposes very rigorous terms onthe commander of the fortress. He threatens also that the city, if it donot surrender to-day, will be bombarded with red-hot shot long enough toset fire to all the buildings. Come, my friends, let us go. All good andsensible citizens will sign this petition."

  The procession moved on. Profound silence ensued. Count Pueckler wasstill standing on the curb-stone and looking in breathless suspense atthe people that, a moment ago, had surrounded him. He saw now that manyleft him and joined those marching to the city hall.

  "Citizens of Breslau!" he cried, in great anguish, pale with grief andhorror--"citizens of Breslau, think of your honor; think of the manytears which the eyes of your noble queen have already shed forMagdeburg; remember that your king relies on you and on your love, andthat his gratitude toward you will be boundless if you remain faithfulnow--faithful unto death! Think of the great king who fought seven longyears for you, and whose glory still reflects a golden lustre on thewhole of Silesia. Do not join the timid and cowardly. Stand by me. Letus go together to the city hall--let us demand the petition that we maytear it to atoms; then go to the governor and tell him that he must notcapitulate, but resist till--"

  "Till we die of hunger?" cried a harsh voice, and a tall,broad-shouldered man elbowed himself through the crowd and walked up tothe count. "Count Pueckler," he said, menacingly, "if you continuetalking about resistance, and other nonsense of that kind, you are amiserable demagogue, and the assassin of those who believe yourhigh-sounding words.--Listen to me, citizens of Breslau. I am secretaryof the commission of provisions, and do you know whither I have beenordered to go? To the municipal authorities! I am taking to them a listof what is still on hand. There are in Breslau at the present time onlytwenty thousand pounds of meat, and the bakers and brewers have no fuelleft. If we do not open our gates to the French, death by starvationwill await us after to-morrow. Therefore, let all those who do not wishto die of hunger hasten to the city hall and sign the petition that willbe deposited there."

  At this moment a strange,
hissing noise resounded through the air; aglowing ball rushed along and penetrated the roof of a house, from whichflames immediately burst forth. A second and a third followed and setfire to several houses on the market-place.

  "The bombardment is recommencing!" howled the multitude. "They arefiring red-hot shot again. Come, come to the city hall! Let us sign thepetition." They hastened off like game pursued by a hunter; fear lentwings to their feet, and anxiety rendered the weak strong, and enabledthe lame to walk.

  Count Pueckler was left alone. For a moment he leaned pale and exhaustedagainst the wall of the house; large drops of perspiration covered hisbrow; his cheeks were livid, his lips were quivering, and he gazed atthe city hall, the steps of which the crowd were ascending at thatmoment. "They are going to sign my death-warrant," he muttered, in a lowvoice. He descended from the curb-stone, and, drawing himself to hisfull height, walked slowly down the street. The bullets were whistlingaround him and dropping at his side. He quietly walked on. He reachedthe house in which he was sojourning, and ascended the stairs slowly andwith dilated eyes, like a somnambulist. He reached the first landing,and had turned already to the second staircase. All at once invisibleinfluences seemed to stop his progress; his face commenced quivering,his eyes sparkled, and turned with an expression of unutterable grief tothe door which he was about to pass. "I must see her once more," hemuttered; "possibly she may follow me." He pulled the bell vehemently,and a footman opened the door. "Is my betrothed at home?"

  "Yes, count; the young countess is in her room; her parents are in theparlor. Shall I announce you?"

  "No, I will go to her without being announced." Passing the footman andhastening down the corridor, he rapped at the last door. Withoutwaiting, he opened it and entered.

  A joyful cry was heard--a young lady as lovely as a rose ran toward himwith open arms. "Have you come at last, dearest? Have you really beenrestored to me? Oh, how I have been longing for you all the morning--howmy heart trembled for you! With what an agony of fear every ball passingover our house filled me, for any one of them might have struck you! Butnow I have you back. I shall detain you here, and not let you go anymore. You shall be like a caged bird. Would that my heart were the cagein which I could keep you!" She laid her head, smiling and blushing, onhis breast while uttering these words; in the ardor of her own joy shehad not noticed how pale, listless, and sad he was. When she raised herbright eyes to him, her smile vanished. "What ails you, my beloved?" sheasked, anxiously. "What is the calamity that I see written on yourface?"

  He took her head between his hands and looked long and mournfully ather. "Camilla," he said, in a low, husky voice--"Camilla, will you diewith me?"

  "Die!" she asked aghast, disengaging her head from his hands. "Whyshould we die, Frederick?"

  "Because I do not wish to live without honor," he exclaimed, with suddenvehemence. "Because our misfortunes are so terrible that we must escapefrom them into the grave. All is lost! Breslau will fall, and we shallbe obliged to prostrate ourselves at the conqueror's feet! But I willnot, cannot survive the disgrace of Prussia. 'Victory or death!' was themotto which I once exchanged with Schill. I swore to him to live and diewith my country; I swore to the king, if Breslau fell, that I would diethe death of a traitor. Breslau falls; therefore I die!"

  "No, no," exclaimed Camilla, clinging firmly to him, "you shall notdie--you must not die! You are mine; you belong to me, and I love you!Hitherto you have lived for your honor as a man--now live for your heartand its love! Listen to me, Frederick! How often have you implored me toaccelerate the day of our wedding, and I always refused! Well, I beseechyou to-day, give me your hand! Let us go together to my parents, and askthem to send for a priest, and let our marriage take place to-day. Andthen, dearest, when the gates of Breslau open to the enemy, we can finda refuge at your splendid estate. The horrible turmoil of war and theclashing of arms will not follow us thither. There, amidst the charms ofpeaceful nature, let us commence a new life; with hearts fondly united,we shall belong only to ourselves, and, forgetful of the outside world,devote ourselves to our friends--to art and literature. Oh, my beloved,is it not a blissful future that is inviting you and promising youundisturbed happiness?" She laid her arms, from which the white lacesleeves had fallen back, on his shoulders, and held her glowing face soclose to his own that her breath fanned his cheek; her ruby lips almosttouched his own, and her dark eyes were fixed on him with an expressionof unutterable tenderness.

  The count pushed her back almost rudely. "The happiness you aredepicting to me is only given to the innocent, to the pure, and to thosewho have no desires," he said, gloomily; "it is the happiness of gentledoves, not of men. And I am a man! As a man of honor I have lived, andas such I will die. My life harmonizes no more with yours. Will you gowith me, Camilla, into the land of eternal honor and liberty? Does notthis world of treachery and cowardice fill you with disgust as it doesmyself? Does not your soul shrink with dismay at the infamy we beholdeverywhere at the present time? Oh, I know your heart is noble and pure,and despises the baseness which is now the master of the world. Let us,therefore, escape from it. Come, dearest, come! I have two pistols at myrooms. They are loaded, and will not fail us. A pressure of myfinger--and we are free! Say one word, and I will bring them--say, myCamilla, that you will die with me!"

  "I say that I will live with you!" she cried, in terror.

  "Then you will not die with me?" he asked, harshly.

  "No, Frederick, why should I die? I am so young, and love life; it hasgiven me nothing but joy--it has given you to me--you, whom I love, forwhom I will live, whom I will render happy! What do I care for themisfortunes of Prussia--what do I care whether Breslau surrenders to theenemy or not, while I am free to follow you--free to devote myselfentirely to my love!"

  "A woman's heart!--a woman's love!" said Pueckler, with a contemptuousshrug of his shoulders. "I wish I resembled you; we then might be likecooing doves in the myrtle-tree. But my heart is rather that of aneagle--longing for the sun; and as he has set on earth, I shall flyafter him. Farewell, Camilla, farewell! Forget me not, and be happy!" Heimprinted a hasty, glowing kiss on her lips, and then turned toward thedoor.

  Camilla rushed after him, and, clinging to him with both her hands,exclaimed: "Frederick, what are you going to do?"

  "I go to the land of liberty, and will do what honor commands," he said,disengaging himself from her grasp, and rushing from the room.

  "Frederick! Frederick!" she cried, in the utmost terror, running to thedoor; she could not open it, for he had locked it outside. "I mustfollow and save him," she exclaimed, and gliding across the room, sheopened a small secret door in the opposite wall; scarcely touching thefloor, she passed through the parlor, without taking any notice of herparents, who were sitting on the divan, and asked her in surprise forthe cause of her hurry and agitation. She did not see that they werefollowing her; nor did she hear them call her. Onward, onward she wentthrough the room to the corridor, into the hall, and up the staircase.She rushed to the upper floor, and rang the bell violently, when thefootman of Count Pueckler opened the door, and stared surprised at theyoung countess. She passed him impetuously, and ran down the corridorleading into the sitting-room of her betrothed. But it was locked.Uttering a cry of despair, she sank breathless on her knees, and laidher burning forehead against the door.

  The old count, with his wife, followed by Count Pueckler's footman, nowapproached. "My child, my child!" murmured the old countess, bendingover her daughter, "what has happened? Why are you so pale? Why do youweep?"

  Camilla looked up to her with streaming eyes. "Mother," she exclaimed,in a heart-rending voice, "mother, he will kill himself!"

  "Who?" asked her father, aghast.

  "My betrothed," she gasped faintly. "With a more generous and scrupulousregard for his honor than we are manifesting for ours, he will notsurvive the disgrace of his country. As Breslau is doomed, he will die!As I did not care to die with him, he angrily repulsed me, and went upto his room to di
e alone. Oh, mother, father, have mercy on my anguish!Help me to save him!"

  "Is the count really here?" said Camilla's father to the footman. "Is hein this room?"

  "Yes, gracious count, my master came home a few minutes ago. Withoutsaying a word, he went to his room, and locked himself up."

  The old count stepped to the door, and, grasping the knob, shook itviolently. "Count Pueckler, open the door," he cried aloud. "Yourfather-in-law and the mother of your betrothed are standing at yourdoor, and ask to be admitted!"

  "Frederick! Frederick!" begged Camilla, "I am on my knees in front ofyour door-sill, and implore you to have mercy--to have compassion on me!Oh, do not close your heart against me--oh, let me come in, my dearfriend!" She paused and listened, hoping to hear a word or a movementinside. But every thing remained silent.

  "If you refuse to listen to our supplications, we shall enter byforce," exclaimed the count.

  "My son," wailed the old countess, "if you will not listen to us, atleast have mercy on my daughter, for she will die of grief if you deserther."

  "My Frederick, I love you so tenderly--do not repel me!" wailed Camilla.

  All was silent. "I must use force," said the count, concealing hisanguish under the guise of anger. "Hasten to a locksmith," he added,turning to the footman; "he is to come here at once, and bring his toolswith him. Notify also the officers at the neighboring police-station."The footman withdrew.

  "My beloved," cried Camilla, wringing her hands, and her face bathed ina flood of tears, "my Frederick, I love you better than my life! Yourwish shall be complied with. Open your door, and admit me. If I cannotlive I will die with you! Oh, do not remain silent--give me a sign thatyou are still living--tell me at least that you forgive me--that--"

  She paused, for a song suddenly resounded in the room; it was not a songof sorrow, but of wrath and manly courage. The words were as follows:

  "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, Von der Schande kannst du Tapfre retten, Zierde der Tapfern!"[30]

  [Footnote 30: See p. 18.]

  The voice died away. Camilla was on her knees, with clasped hands; herparents stood behind her in devout silence. Suddenly noisy footstepsdrew near. At the entrance of the corridor appeared the footman with thelocksmith, who came with his tools to open the door. The old count madea sign to him to stand aloof. He had heard a movement in the room, andhe hoped Camilla's lover would voluntarily admit them.

  A pause ensued--then a terrible report was heard in the room. Camillauttered a loud shriek, and sank senseless to the floor.

  An hour later, the locksmith succeeded in opening the door, which hadbeen strongly bolted inside. Count Pueckler sat in the easy-chair infront of his desk, immovable, with his face calm and uninjured, thepistol still in his hand. He had aimed well. The bullet had pierced hisheart. On the desk in front of him lay a sheet of paper, containing thefollowing words:

  "Last greeting to Ferdinand von Schill, who took an oath with me that wewould live and die as faithful sons of our country! Our country issinking ignominiously into the dust; I will not, cannot survive thedisgrace, and, therefore, I die. Farewell, you who took that oath withme--farewell Schill and Staps! I hope you will be happier than myself! Iam the first of us three who dies because he despairs of his country.Will you survive me long? May God give you strength to do so! Farewelluntil we meet again!

  "FREDERICK VON PUeCKLER."

  On the following day the governor of Breslau commenced negotiations withthe enemy, and on the 7th of January, 1807, Breslau opened its gates tothe French troops, and the Prussian garrison laid down its arms.