Louisa of Prussia and Her Times Part 73

CHAPTER L.

PATRIOTISM.

Princess Marianne von Eibenberg had just returned from a party which the British amba.s.sador, Lord Paget, had given in her honor, and which was to celebrate at the same time the victory which the two emperors, the allies of England, were firmly believed to have achieved over the usurper.

Marianne Eibenberg, therefore, wore a brilliant toilet. She was adorned with diamonds and costly jewelry, and looked as beautiful and proud as a queen. She had now reached the acme of her career. She was still lovely, and besides she had become, as it were, the protectress of the most refined society of Vienna and the centre of the intellectual as well as aristocratic circles. She had accomplished her purpose. Marianne Meier, the Jewess, was now a n.o.ble lady, to whom everybody was paying deference; and Marianne, princess von Eibenberg, felt so much at home in her new position, that she had herself almost forgotten who and what she had been in former times. Only sometimes she remembered it, only when such recollections secured a triumph to her, and when she met with persons who had formerly, at the best, tolerated her with proud disdain in good society, and who did not deem it now beneath their dignity to solicit an invitation to her reception-room as a favor.

This reception-room was now the only resort of good society in Vienna, the only place where people were sure to meet always amidst the troubles and convulsions of the times with the most refined and patriotic men, and where they might rely on never finding any persons of doubtful patriotism, much less any French.

But, it is true, since the imperial family had fled from Vienna, the reception-room of the Princess von Eibenberg had gradually become deserted, for the members of the aristocracy had retired to their estates and castles, and the ministers and high functionaries had accompanied the emperor and the imperial court to Olmutz.

The amba.s.sadors, too, were about to repair thither; hence, the party given by the British minister, Lord Paget, to his adored friend the Princess von Eibenberg, was to celebrate not only the supposed victory, but also his departure from the capital.

Marianne, as we stated already, had just returned from this party.

With rapid steps, absorbed in profound reflections, she was pacing her boudoir, muttering, now and then, inaudible words, and from time to time heaving deep sighs as if feeling violent pain. When she walked past the large Venetian mirror, she stopped and contemplated the brilliant and imposing form it reflected.

"It is true," she said, mournfully, "the Princess von Eibonberg is a beautiful and charming lady; she has very fine diamonds and a very aristocratic t.i.tle; she is living in grand style; she has very many admirers; she is adored and beloved on account of her enthusiastic patriotism; she has got whatever is able to beautify and adorn life, and yet I see a cloud on this forehead which artists compare with that of the Ludovisian Juno, and diplomatists with that of Pallas Athene. What does this cloud mean? Reply to this question, you, whom I see there in the mirror; reply to it, proud woman with the precious diadem, how does it come that you look so sad, although the world says that you are happy and highly honored?"

She paused, and looked almost expectantly at her own image in the looking-gla.s.s. The clock commenced all at once striking twelve.

"Midnight!" whispered Marianne; "midnight, the hour in which ghosts walk! I will also call up a ghost," she said, after a short pause; "I will call it up and compel it to reply to me."

And raising her arm toward the glittering, radiant image in the looking-gla.s.s, she said in a loud and solemn voice: "Marianne Meier, rise from your grave and come hither to reply to my questions! Marianne Meier, rise and walk; it is the Princess von Eibenberg who is calling you! Ah, I see you--it is you, Marianne; you are looking at me with the melancholy eyes of those days when you had to bear so much contumely and disgrace, and when you were sitting mournfully by the rivers of Babylon and weeping. Yes, I recognize you; you still wear the features of your ancestors of the tribe of Levi; men pretend not to notice them any longer, but I see them. Marianne Meier, now listen to what I am going to tell you, and reply to me: tell me what is the matter with the Princess von Eibenberg? What is the reason she is not happy? Look around in her house, Marianne Meier; you will behold there such opulence and magnificence as you never knew in the days of your childhood. Look at her gilt furniture, her carpets and l.u.s.tres; look at the beautiful paintings on the walls, and at the splendid solid plate in her chests.

Look at her velvet and silk dresses, adorned with gold and silver embroidery; look at her diamonds, her other precious stones and jewelry.

Do you know still, Marianne Meier, how often, in the days of your childhood and early youth, you have longed, with scalding tears, for all those things? Do you know still, Marianne Meier, how often you have wrung your hands and wailed, 'Would to G.o.d I were rich! For he who is rich is happy!' The Princess von Eibenberg is rich, Marianne Meier; why, then, is she not happy? If it had been predicted to you at that time, when you were only sighing for wealth, Marianne Meier, that you would be a princess one day, and carry your Jewish head proudly erect in the most aristocratic society, would you not have believed that this was the acme of happiness, and that your boldest wishes had been fulfilled? Ah, Marianne Meier, I have reached this acme, and yet it seems to me that I am much more remote from happiness than you ever were at that time! You had then something to struggle for; you had a great aim. But what have I got? I have reached my aim, and there is nothing for me to accomplish and to struggle for! That is the secret of my melancholy; I have nothing to struggle for. I have reached the acme of my prosperity, and every step I advance is a step down-hill toward the grave, and when the grave closes over me nothing will remain of me, and my name will be forgotten, while the name of the hateful usurper will resound through all ages like a golden harp! Oh, a little glory, a little immortality on earth; that, Marianne Meier, is what the ambitious heart of the Princess von Eibenberg is longing for; that is the object for which she would willingly sacrifice years of her life. Life is now so boundlessly tedious and empty; it is nothing but a glittering phrase; nothing but a smiling and gorgeous but dull repet.i.tion of the same thing! But, hark!

What is that?" She suddenly interrupted herself. "It seemed to me as if I heard steps in the small corridor. Yes, I was not mistaken. Somebody is at the door. Oh, it is he, then; it is Gentz."

She rushed toward the door, and opening it hastily, she said, "Is it you, my beloved friend?"

"If you apply this epithet to me, Marianne, yes, it is I," replied Gentz, entering the room.

"And to whom else should I apply it, Frederick?" she asked, reproachfully. "Who but you has got a key to my house and to this door?

Who but you is allowed to enter my house and my room at any hour of the day or night?"

"Perhaps Lord Paget, my powerful and fine-looking rival," said Gentz, carelessly, and without the least shade of bitterness, while he sat down on the sofa with evident symptoms of weariness and exhaustion.

"Are you jealous of Lord Paget?" she asked, taking a seat by his side, and placing her hand, sparkling with diamond-rings, on his shoulder.

"Remember, my friend, that it was solely in obedience to your advice that I did not reject the attentions of the dear lord and entered into this political liaison."

"I know, I know," said Gentz, deprecatingly; "nor have I come to quarrel with you about such trifles. I have not come as a jealous lover who wishes to upbraid his beloved with the attentions she has shown to other men, but as a poor, desponding man who appears before his friend to pour his lamentations, his despair into her bosom, and to ask her for a little sympathy with his rage and grief."

"My friend, what has occurred?" asked Marianne, in dismay.

"Where have you been during the week, since I have not seen you? You took leave of me in a hurried note, stating that you would set out on an important journey, although you did not tell me whither you were going.

Where have you been, Frederick?"

"I was in Olmutz with the emperor and with the ministers," sighed Gentz.

"I hoped to promote there the triumph of the good cause and of Germany; I hoped to witness a brilliant victory, and now--"

"And now?" asked Marianne, breathlessly, when Gentz paused.

"Now I have witnessed a disgraceful defeat," groaned Gentz.

Marianne uttered a cry, and her eyes flashed angrily. "He has conquered again?" she asked, in a husky voice.

"He has conquered, and we have been beaten," exclaimed Gentz, in a loud and bitter tone. "The last hope of Germany, nay, of Europe, is gone; the Russians were defeated with us in a terrible battle. The disaster is an irretrievable one, all the armies of Prussia being unable to restore the lost prestige of the coalition! [Footnote: Gentz's own words.--Vide Gentz's "Correspondence with Johannes von Muller," p. 150.] The Russians have already retreated, and the Emperor Alexander has set out to-night in order to return to his dominions."

"And HE," muttered Marianne, "HE is celebrating another triumph over us! He is marching onward proudly and victoriously, while we are lying, crushed and humiliated, in the dust of degradation. Is it Thy will that it should be so, G.o.d in heaven?" she asked, turning her eyes upward with an angry glance. "Hast Thou no thunderbolt for this t.i.tan who is rebelling against the laws of the world? Wilt Thou permit this upstart to render all countries unhappy, and to enslave all nations?"

"Yes, G.o.d permits him to do so," exclaimed Gentz, laughing scornfully.

"G.o.d has destined him to be a scourge to chastise us for our own impotence. We do not succ.u.mb owing to his greatness, but owing to our weakness. The Austrian cabinet is responsible for our misfortunes! I have long since perceived the utter lack of ability, the contemptible character, nay, the infamy of this cabinet; in former times I used to denounce our Austrian cabinet to the other cabinets of Europe as the real source of the calamities of our period, and to unveil to them the whole terrible truth. Oh, if they had heeded MY warnings, when I wrote last June, and as late as in the beginning of August, to many prominent men, 'Beware with whom you enter into a coalition! Do not be deceived by an illusory semblance of improvement. They are the same as ever! With them no great undertaking, either in the cabinet or in the field, will succeed; their rejection is the conditio sine qua non of the preservation of Europe. It was all in vain! Finally, I was left alone with my warnings; every one deserted me!" [Footnote: Gentz's "Correspondence," etc., p. 144.]

"I did not desert you, Frederick," said Marianne, reproachfully, "and I compelled Lord Paget, too, to support your views. Thanks to our united efforts, that stupid Count Colloredo, at least, was forced to withdraw from the cabinet."

"That is a consolation, but no hope," said Gentz. "So long as the other ministers will retain their positions, every thing will be in vain.

Every thing is so diseased and rotten that, unless the whole be thrown away, there is no reasonable hope left. I hoped the Emperor of Russia would boldly denounce the incapacity of the cabinet, and by his powerful influence succeed in cleansing our Augean stable, but he is too gentle for such an undertaking, and has no man of irresistible power and energy at his side. He beheld our misery; he greatly deplored it, but refused to meddle with the domestic affairs of Austria. Thus every thing was lost, and he was himself disgracefully defeated."

"And now we have submitted altogether?" asked Marianne. "We have made peace with the usurper?"

"We have BEGGED him to make peace with us, you mean, and he will dictate the terms in which we shall have to acquiesce. Oh, Marianne, when I think of the events of the last few days, I am seized with rage and grief, and hardly know how I shall be able to live henceforward. Just listen HOW we have begged for peace! Yesterday, two days after the battle, the Emperor Francis sent Prince John of Lichtenstein to Napoleon, who had established his headquarters at Austerlitz, in a mansion belonging to the Kaunitz family, to express to the conqueror his wish to have an interview with him at the advanced posts. Napoleon granted it to him, and the Emperor of Germany went to his conqueror to beg for peace. He was accompanied by none but Lamberti to the meeting, which was to take place in the open field. Bonaparte received him, surrounded by all his generals, chamberlains, and masters of ceremonies, and with the whole pomp of his imperial dignity." [Footnote: This account of the interview of the two emperors may be found verbatim in a letter from Gentz to Johannes von Muller. Vide "Correspondence," etc., p. 154.]

"Oh, what a terrible disgrace and humiliation!" exclaimed Marianne, bursting into tears, while she tore the diadem with a wild gesture from her hair and hurled it to the floor. "Who dares to adorn himself after events so utterly ignominious have occurred?" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed--"who dares to carry his head erect after Germany has been thus trampled under foot!

The Emperor of Germany has begged the invader to make peace; he has humbly solicited it like a beggar asking alms! And has the conqueror graciously granted his request? Oh, tell me every thing, Frederick! What took place at that interview? What did they say to each other?"

"I can tell you but little about it," said Gentz, shrugging his shoulders, "for the two emperors conversed without witnesses. Bonaparte left his suite at the bivouac fire kindled by his soldiers, and Lamberti also went thither. The two emperors then embraced each other like two friends who had not met for years." [Footnote: Historical.]

"And the Emperor Francis had not sufficient strength to strangle the fiend with his arms?" asked Marianne, trembling with wrath and grief.

"He had neither the strength nor the inclination, I suppose," said Gentz, shrugging his shoulders. "When Napoleon released the unfortunate Emperor Francis from his arms, he pointed with a proud glance toward heaven and said: 'Such are the palaces which your majesty has obliged me to inhabit for these three months.'"

"'The abode in them,' replied the Austrian monarch, 'makes you so thriving that you have no right to be angry with me for it.'"

"'I only ask your majesty,' said Napoleon, hastily, 'not to renew the war against France.'"

"'I pledge you my word as a man and a sovereign that I shall do so no more,' replied Francis, loudly and unhesitatingly. The conversation then was continued in a lower tone, and neither Lamberti nor the French marshals were able to understand another word." [Footnote: "Memoires du Duo de Rovigo," vol. ii., p. 218.]

"The interview lasted two hours, and then the two emperors parted with reiterated demonstrations of cordiality. The Emperor Francis returned silently, and absorbed in his reflections to his headquarters at Austerlitz. Hitherto he had not uttered a word; but when he saw the Prince von Lichtenstein, he beckoned him to approach, and said to him in a low voice, and with suppressed anger, 'Now that I have seen him, he is more intolerable to me than ever.' [Footnote: Hausser's "History of Germany," vol. ii., p. 690.] That was the only utterance he gave to his rage; as for the rest, he seemed contented with the terms he obtained."

"And were the terms honorable?" asked Marianne.

"Honorable!" said Gentz, shrugging his shoulders. "Napoleon demanded, above all, that the Russian army should retire speedily from the Austrian territories, and the emperor promised this to him. Hence, the Emperor Alexander has departed; the Russian army is retreating; one part of it is going to Prussia, while the other is returning to Poland. The cabinet of Vienna, therefore, is free; that is to say, it is left to its own peculiar infamy without any bounds whatever, and thus peace will be made soon enough. Those contemptible men will submit to any thing, provided he gives up Vienna. Finance-minister Fichy said to me in Olmutz yesterday, 'Peace will be cheap, if we have merely to cede the Tyrol, Venice, and a portion of Upper Austria, and we should be content with such terms.' Ah, if THEY could only be got rid of, what a splendid thing the fall of the monarchy would he! But to lose the provinces, honor, Germany, Europe, and to KEEP Fichy, Ungart, Cobenzl, Collenbach, Lamberti, Dietrichstein--no satisfaction, no revenge?-not a single one of the dogs hung or quartered,--it is impossible to digest THAT!"

[Footnote: Gentz's own words.--Vide his "Correspondence with Johannes von Muller," p. 155.]

"It is true," said Marianne, musingly, and in a low voice, "this is a boundless disgrace; and if men will submit to it, and bow their heads, it is time for women to raise theirs, and to become lionesses in order to tear the enemy opposing them! And what do you intend doing now, my friend?" she then asked aloud, forcibly dispelling her painful emotions.

"What are your prospects? What plan of battle will you draw up for us?"

"I have no prospects at all, and I have given up drawing plans of battle," said Gentz, sighing. "After exhausting my last strength for five days during my sojourn in Olmutz, I am done with every thing, and I have withdrawn weary and satiated ad nauseam. Our ministers have gone to Presburg, for the purpose of negotiating there with the plenipotentiaries of Bonaparte about the terms of peace."