Books: NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER

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"No, your majesty, I am only convinced that God will one day intrust
the task of retribution to Prussia, because it is she that has
suffered most."

"Let us leave retribution to God," said the king, gently.

"No, your majesty," exclaimed Hardenberg, "let us now take upon
ourselves the task of avenging our wrongs, and only pray to Heaven
for a blessing on our efforts. And that God is with us, that He at
last averts His face from the man who has so long trampled the world
under foot, is shown by the new war into which Napoleon is about to
enter. This expedition to Russia is the first step to his ruin!"

"Oh, you are mistaken!" exclaimed the king, almost indignantly. "It
will be a new triumphal procession for Napoleon. Russia will succumb
to him, as we all have done. He marches upon the position of his
enemy with the armies of all his allies--half a million of warriors
and thousands of cannon--while Russia stands alone; she has no force
compared with his, and no allies whatever."

"She has one friend more powerful than any Napoleon has," said
Hardenberg, solemnly--"NATURE. When this ally appears, with its
masses of ice and snow-storms, Napoleon is lost."

"But he will take good care not to wait for this reenforcement,"
exclaimed the king. "As always, he will finish the war in a few
weeks, vanquish the feeble forces of Alexander with his own
tremendous columns in one or two decisive battles, and then, on the
ruins of the Russian empire, dictate terms of peace to the
humiliated emperor. This has been the course of events ever since
Bonaparte commanded, and so it will be hereafter."

"Your majesty, it will not; for, during twelve years, he has been
the instructor of the world, and the nations have learned from him
not only the art of war, but his special strategies. His secret
consists in the rapidity of his movements. He has made
Macchiavelli's words his own: 'A short and vigorous war insures
victory!' He must, therefore, be opposed by a protracted and
desultory war--his enemies must fight long, not with heavy columns,
but with light battalions, now here, now there; they must take care
not to bring on a general battle, but slowly thin the ranks of his
army, and exhaust his resources and his patience. This was the
course which the Spaniards pursued, and their hopes are, therefore,
promising; they are carrying on a guerilla warfare, and he is
obliged to renew the struggle every day without being able to defeat
them in a decisive battle. Russia will adopt a similar plan. She
will take pains to draw Napoleon farther and farther into the
interior of the country, incessantly alluring him forward by
insignificant victories, rendering him eager for a great battle. In
strict obedience to the plans he has adopted, she will especially
endeavor to weaken Napoleon, and cut him off from his supplies and
base of operations. She will successively fight him at every
important point with a strong army, supported by large reserves,
tire him out, and ruin him in detail. This plan she will adhere to
until her great ally approaches from Siberia--grim Winter, covering
Russia with an invulnerable defence, so that her sons may at last
take the offensive, and expel the terrified enemy."

"That is a grand, but an infernal scheme!" exclaimed the king, who
had risen, and was walking up and down with hasty steps. "Who
conceived it?"

"No single brain; it is the result of the consultations of the most
eminent Russian generals. They also have studied Macchiavelli, and
found that significant axiom, 'He who knows how to resist will
conquer in the end.' The Russians, therefore, will resist, and they
will conquer."

"But who tells you that this is the plan which Russia will adopt?"
asked the king. "Whence have you derived such accurate information?"

"Your majesty," said Hardenberg, smiling, "though we publicly act as
the enemies of Russia, and are compelled to send our army against
her, she secretly regards us as her ally, and knows well that we are
only waiting for the favorable moment to drop the mask and become
the open enemy of the usurper. We have, therefore, warm friends in
Russia, who will keep us informed about every thing going on, that
we may prudently use the favorable moment when we also can take up
arms against Napoleon."

"No rash steps--no coups de main," exclaimed Frederick William,
gravely and imperiously, standing in front of Hardenberg, and
looking him full in the face. "I am opposed to any sort of underhand
games; when you are not strong enough to attack your enemy openly
and honestly, you ought to be too proud to shoot at him from an
ambuscade, like a coward and bandit. The bullet may miss him, and he
who fired it dies as a traitor, overwhelmed with disgrace. I have
concluded this alliance with France; I am now her ally, and thereby
compelled to furnish her an auxiliary corps of twenty thousand men
against Russia; so long, therefore, as this campaign lasts, I must,
by virtue of the pledges I have given, stand by France, and woe to
the general of mine who should forget this, and disobey the orders I
have given him!"

"There may be circumstances, however, your majesty," said
Hardenberg, in an embarrassed tone, "circumstances--"

"There can be none," interrupted the king, "justifying us to turn
traitors. A man has but one word to pledge, and that I have pledged
to Napoleon. When my soldiers forsake the colors under which I have
placed them, they shall be punished as deserters. No one knows the
anguish with which I say this, but as a man who must keep his word,
and as a commander-in-chief who, above all, must maintain discipline
and subordination, I cannot speak otherwise. Tell your friends in
Russia so. I am sad and dejected enough, compelled as I am to become
Napoleon's ally. But I will not perjure myself!"

"Your majesty, I bow in admiration of these noble words of my king,"
exclaimed Hardenberg, enthusiastically; "I wish the whole world
could hear them. At this hour you obtained a greater victory than
Napoleon ever gained on the battlefield--a victory of duty and
fidelity over your own inclinations and wishes! Far be it from me to
oppose this magnanimous resolution. Our army, then, will march out
side by side with the French troops and will return, if it ever
should, as an auxiliary corps of the grand army. But then, your
majesty, the new day will dawn, for which we must prepare while
Napoleon is in Russia. It must be in secret--in the dead of night--
but the rising sun will find us ready. The world is now united for
the great work; brethren are offering their hands to brethren from
the shores of the Mediterranean to those of the Atlantic and the
Baltic. Their common sufferings have filled their hearts with the
same love and hatred. All the nations are uniting into one family,
and in their wrath will destroy him who is menacing all alike.
Secret messengers keep the brethren in the west and north, in the
south and east, well informed of what is done by their friends.
Patriotic poets are arousing the nations from the lethargy that
enthralled them during so many years; they make them hear the gospel
of liberty, and awaken them from their indifference. In secret
workshops the brethren are forging arms; in the night the sisters
are at work upon uniforms, and their children are making lint for
warriors to be wounded in the holy war of liberation. They are
quietly preparing for it in the offices, the students' halls, and
the workshops. At the first call they will fling aside their pens
and tools, take up the sword, and hasten into the field, to deliver
the fatherland. All Europe, at the present moment, is but one vast
secret society, which has even in France active and influential
members. Napoleon stands on a volcano, which will soon engulf him."

"Enough!" exclaimed the king, anxiously. "Say no more; I will know
nothing about secret societies and conspiracies. They are perhaps an
inevitable evil in these times, but still they ARE an evil,
destroying those for whose benefit they were intended."

"May God in His mercy favor them in advancing our cause," exclaimed
Hardenberg, "that from them may arise the army that is to deliver
the nations from the yoke of the tyrant! I am convinced that it will
be so, and that the moment will come when Prussia will be able to
redeem the oath which I am sure every Prussian took when he saw the
coffin of the august Queen Louisa. On the day, your majesty, when I
saw it, I resolved to strive for no other object than to deliver my
country. For this I will devote my whole strength--my life, if need
be! Heaven heard my oath, and I shall not die before its
fulfilment."

The king gazed long and mournfully upon the queen's portrait which
hung over his desk, and represented her in the attire in which
Frederick William had seen her for the first time. "But she died
before the hour of deliverance struck," he said, gloomily, to
himself. "Her heart was broken, and she did not even take hope with
her into the grave. She,--" he stopped suddenly, and turned his eyes
toward Hardenberg. "I will communicate something to you," he said
briefly and impulsively; "I will confess to you that I comprehend
your oath; for I also took one when I held the queen's corpse in my
arms. In the beginning the terrible blow paralyzed my soul, and I
felt as though I had been hurled into a dark abyss. Suddenly I
heard, as from a voice resounding in my ears, 'You must not die
before you avenge her death upon him who broke her heart!' I bent
over her, and kissing her lips, swore that I would live only to
obey. I have not forgotten that oath and that hour, and, you may
depend on it, I shall ever remember it; but I will wait for the
favorable moment and it must not be supposed that I can allow myself
to be carried away by imprudent projects."

"No one would wish that, your majesty," said Hardenberg hastily. "On
the contrary, prudence, above all, is necessary at the present time,
and for this reason I would entreat you to overcome your feelings
and go to Dresden, to pay your respects to the emperor."

"Never!" exclaimed Frederick William, starting up and blushing with
indignation. "No, nowhere else than in battle can I meet again this
man, who has destroyed my happiness, my honor, and my hopes! Do not
allude to this any more. It cannot be. How can I meet him, whom I
have not seen since the days of Tilsit? Who can ask me to go to
Dresden, to stand there as a courtier at the door of an arrogant
victor, and mingle with the crowd of his trainbearers?"

"Your majesty, the Emperor of Austria will also go to Dresden," said
Hardenberg, entreatingly.

"The Emperor of Austria does so, because he is unfortunate enough to
be Napoleon's father-in-law."

"Nevertheless, the Emperor Francis saw his son-in-law for the last
time on the day when, after the battle of Austerlitz, he repaired as
a supplicant to the bivouac-fire of Napoleon, and implored the
conqueror to grant him peace. That was even worse than Tilsit, and
still the Emperor of Austria comes to Dresden, to become, as your
majesty said, the trainbearer of the victor."

"Why does he do so?" asked the king, shrugging his shoulders.
"Because he must--because at the present time every wish of Napoleon
is almost an order, even for princes. Napoleon caused his ambassador
at Vienna verbally to inform the emperor that he wished to see his
father-in-law at Dresden, and witness the meeting of his consort,
Maria Louisa, with her parents. The Emperor Francis hastened to
comply with this request, and is expected to arrive to-morrow."

"Well, Bonaparte, fortunately, expressed to me no such wish, and it
will not be expected that I should go thither without being
requested to do so."

"Pardon me, your majesty, our ambassador at Dresden received a
similar communication from the French envoy at the court of Saxony.
The Emperor Napoleon desires likewise to see your majesty at
Dresden. Here is the letter from the ambassador."

The king took the paper and hastily glanced over it. He then heaved
a profound sigh, and, returning it to Hardenberg, fixed his eyes
once more upon the portrait of the queen. He gazed steadfastly upon
it. Gradually the expression of his features became milder, and his
gloomy eye more cheerful. With a wave of his hand he called
Hardenberg to his side; looking again at the portrait, and saluting
it with a gentle nod, he said, "She overcame her feelings, and went
to Tilsit, because she believed it necessary, for the welfare of
Prussia, to pacify the wrath of Napoleon. I will follow the example
of my beloved Louisa. I will conquer myself, and go to Dresden. But
you, Hardenberg, must accompany me."

CHAPTER II.

THE WHITE LADY.

Great commotion reigned at the palace of Baireuth. Servants hurried
through the brilliantly-decorated rooms, spreading out here and
there an additional carpet, placing everywhere vases filled with
fragrant flowers, or dusting the finely-polished furniture. It was a
great and important day for Baireuth. All felt it, and excitement
and curiosity drove the inhabitants into the streets. No one cared
to stay at home, or be absent at that historic hour which was to
shed upon Baireuth a ray of her ancient glory.

The man at whose feet the world was prostrate, to whom kings and
princes were bowing, before whom empires trembled and thrones passed
away, who had only to stretch out his hand to establish new
dynasties, and whom the world admired while it hated--Napoleon--was
to arrive at Baireuth. The quartermasters had arrived already early
in the morning, and ordered in the name of the emperor that the
rooms at the palace should be put in readiness, because he intended
to reach Baireuth in the afternoon of the 14th of May, and stop
overnight.

The whole population seemed to be in the streets. The windows of the
houses along the route of the emperor were open, crowded with the
most distinguished ladies of the city; they were dressed in their
most beautiful toilets, and held in their hands bouquets, with which
they intended to salute Napoleon. But the greatest commotion, as we
have remarked, reigned at the new palace, for the emperor had given
express orders that apartments should be prepared for him there, and
not at the old palace of the Margraves of Brandenburg. Count
Munster, intendant of the palaces, had, of course, complied with
these orders, and four brilliant rooms were ready for the reception
of Napoleon. All the arrangements were completed, and the intendant,
followed by the castellan, walked for the last time through the
imperial rooms to satisfy himself that every thing was in good
order.

"No, nothing has been left undone," said the count, when he stepped
into the bedchamber destined for the emperor. "Every thing is as
comfortable as it is splendid; the arrangement reflects a great deal
of credit upon you, my dear Schluter, and will, doubtless, procure
you a liberal reward from the emperor, who is said to be very
munificent."

"I do not wish to accept any presents at the tyrant's hands,"
growled the castellan, with a gloomy face; "I do not want to stain
my hands with the plunder which he brings from foreign lands, and
which is accompanied with a curse rather than a blessing."

"You are a fool, my dear Schluter," exclaimed the count, laughing.
"You see at least that curses do not incommode the emperor, for his
power and authority are constantly on the increase. He is now going
to Dresden, to see at his feet all the princes of Germany; and he
will then hasten northward, to gain new victories and humiliate the
only man in the world who still dares to defy him, the Emperor
Alexander of Russia."

"I know some one else who will not bow to him, and whom he will not
humiliate," said the castellan, contemptuously shrugging his
shoulders.

"Well, and who is that?" asked Count Munster, quickly.

"It is the White Lady!" exclaimed the castellan, solemnly and
loudly.

Count Munster shuddered and glanced around in evident terror, "For
Heaven's sake, hush!" he said, hastily. "Pray forget these foolish
hallucinations, and, above all, do not venture to talk about them at
the present time."

The castellan shook his head slowly. "You ought not to talk of
hallucinations, count," he said, solemnly. "The White Lady is awake
and walking, and she knows that the enemy of her house, the house of
Brandenburg, will spend the coming night at this palace. I repeat it
to your excellency, she is walking, and her eyes are filled with
wrath, and there is a curse on her lips against the enemy of the
Hohenzollerns. I would not be surprised if she should shout to-night
into the ears of the tyrant, and, by her words, awaken him from his
slumber."

"Gracious Heaven, Schluter, do not talk so audaciously!" exclaimed
the count, anxiously. "If one of the attendants of the emperor
overhear your words, you would perish. Napoleon is said to be
somewhat superstitious; he, who otherwise is afraid of nothing in
the world, is said to be easily terrified by ghosts, and to believe
in all sorts of omens and prophecies. He has already heard of the
White Lady of Baireuth, and therefore given express orders that
apartments should be prepared for him at the new palace, and not at
the old one, and rooms selected in which she was not in the habit of
walking. [Footnote: Historical.--Vide Minutoli, "The White Lady," p.
17.] I hope that you have punctually carried out this order, and
that these rooms are exempt from the visits of the apparition?"

"Who has the power to give orders to spirits, and command them, 'So
far and no farther?'" asked the castellan, almost scornfully. "She
goes whither she desires, and the doors closed against her she opens
by a breath. The walls disappear before her, and where you expect
her least of all, there you suddenly meet her tall, majestic form in
the white dress, her head covered with a black veil, under which her
large angry eyes are flashing."

"Hush, Schluter!" exclaimed the count, anxiously, "I know the
portrait of the White Lady, which hangs in the cabinet adjoining the
audience-hall, and it is, therefore, unnecessary for you to describe
her appearance to me."

"Your excellency knows that we have two portraits of the White
Lady," said the castellan, laconically.

"Yes, the one with the white dress is at the hermitage; the other,
representing her in a dark dress, is here at the palace. Thank
Heaven! there is but one portrait of her here, and I hope it is in
the other wing of the building."

"That is to say, I saw the portrait there this afternoon, but who
knows whether it is still there?"

"How so? Who knows?" asked the count impatiently. "What do you
mean?"

"I mean, count, that it is in fact no portrait, but only the bed in
which the White Lady sleeps until it pleases her to walk, and that,
while she is walking, it will certainly not be found at its place.
Did I not report to your excellency six months since that the
portrait had again broken the nail and fallen? It was an entirely
new nail, count, so firm and strong, that half a regiment of French
soldiers might have been hung upon it at the same time; I had had
the nail made by the blacksmith, and the mason fixed it. I myself
hung up the portrait, and it seemed as firm as though it had grown
in the wall. But that very night a noise like a thunder-clap rolling
over my head awakened me, and when I opened my eyes, the White Lady
stood at my bedside; her right hand raised menacingly, her black
veil thrown back, she stared at me with a face flashing with anger.
I uttered a cry, and shut my eyes. When I opened them again, she had
disappeared. In the morning I went into the hall to look after the
portrait. It was gone. Where the nail had been fixed nothing but a
blood-red stain was to be seen; the nail itself, broken into small
pieces, lay on the floor. The portrait had walked to the small
cabinet adjoining the hall, and was quietly leaning there against
the wall as though nothing had happened."

"And I told you to let it stand there, and not try again to hang it
up. The large painting is too heavy."

"If the large painting wanted to hang on the wall it would allow the
smallest nail to hold it," said Schluter, shaking his head. "But the
White Lady wishes to stand on her own feet, and no human power is
able to prevent her."

"Schluter, I repeat to you, you are a dreamer," exclaimed the count,
impatiently. "Let us speak no more of the apparition. It makes one
feel quite curious. Tell me now whether you have really removed the
portrait far enough that it cannot be seen by the emperor?"

"When I was an hour ago at the cabinet adjoining the audience-hall,
the portrait was still there. But who knows what may have happened
since then?"

"Well, it is a fixed idea of yours," said the count, shrugging his
shoulders. "I do not wish to hear any more of it. These rooms are
finely arranged, and I have no fault to find with them. Now lock the
entrance-door, and let us go out through the Gallery of Palms, by
which the emperor will have to enter."

"Pray, your excellency, lead the way; I shall lock the door and
immediately follow you," said the castellan, walking hastily through
the opened rooms.

Count Munster slowly walked on, thoughtfully looking down, and
shuddering inwardly at the immovable superstition of the castellan,
whom his reason vainly endeavored to deride.

"And still it is folly, nothing but folly," he muttered to himself,
while opening the high hall-door, and stepping into the anteroom, to
which, on account of its length and narrowness, and the fresco
paintings of tropical plants on the walls, the name of the "Gallery
of Palms" had been given.

All was silent in this gallery; the setting sun shed its beams
through the windows, covered with dark curtains, and drew trembling
shining lines across the high room. The footsteps of the count
resounded so loudly that he himself was frightened, and glanced
anxiously around. Suddenly he started in dismay, and quickly
advanced several steps. He had seen something moving at the lower
end of the gallery, and it seemed to him as though he had heard
approaching footsteps. Yes, he was not mistaken; now he saw it quite
distinctly! A lady approached. The sun illuminated her tall form,
and shed a golden light over the white dress falling down in ample
folds over her feet. She approached with slow steps, quite
regardless of the count, who at first looked at her in surprise, and
then turned with an angry face toward the castellan, who just then
entered.

"You did not comply, then, with my orders, Schluter?" exclaimed the
count, vehemently. "I told you expressly to keep the rooms shut
until the emperor's arrival, and not to admit any one. How could you
dare disobey my instructions?"

"But, your excellency, I did obey them," answered Schluter. "Not a
human being besides the footmen has been permitted to enter here,
and even those I drove out two hours ago, and shut the doors."

"If that be true, how does it happen that there is a lady here in
the gallery," asked Count Minister, stretching out his arm toward
the lower end of the apartment.

"A lady?" asked Schluter, greatly amazed. "Where is she, your
excellency?"

The count fixed his eyes searchingly on the large arched window, in
the bright light of which he had distinctly seen the lady. She was
gone--the gallery was empty. "You forgot to shut the lower door, and
while I turned and scolded you, the lady escaped!" he exclaimed. He
hastily rushed forward, and tried to open the door leading into the
corridor: but this was locked. The count vainly shook the lock.
"That is strange," he muttered, dropping his hand. "I know I saw her
distinctly; it is impossible that I could have been mistaken. Where
can she be? What has become of her? Where has she concealed
herself?"

"What becomes of the last sigh of a dying person, your excellency,"
asked Schluter, solemnly. "Where does the soul conceal itself after
escaping from the body?"

"Ah, nonsense!" ejaculated Count Munster. "It could not have been a
spectre. Why, it is not a spectre's hour, and, besides, I certainly
saw the lady plainly; it was a decidedly earthly figure. Her face
was pale and grave, but there was nothing spectral about it. She
wore a black veil thrown back from her face; the upper part of her
body was covered with--"

"A dark pelisse trimmed with fur," interrupted Schluter, composedly.
"Below this dark pelisse protruded a white silk dress, falling to
the ground in full folds."

"Yes, yes, that was the costume," exclaimed the count. "But how do
you know it without having seen her?"

"It is the costume of the White Lady, your excellency," said
Schluter, "and it was she who just walked through the gallery. Pray,
count, go with me to the other wing of the palace and look at her
portrait; your excellency will then be convinced that I tell the
truth."

"No, no, I do not wish to see it," replied Count Munster, whose
cheeks turned pale, and who felt his heart frozen with terror.
"Unlock the door, Schluter! The air here is sultry and very
oppressive! Quick! quick! open the door!" The castellan obeyed, and
the count rushed out into the corridor, where he opened a window and
inhaled the fresh air in eager draughts.