Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia Part 41

"And while we are awaiting the king," said Napoleon, calling Talleyrand from the anteroom, "your majesty will permit me to introduce my companion. Madame, I have the honor to present my minister of foreign affairs, M. de Talleyrand, Prince de Benevento."

"And I deem myself happy to make the acquaintance of the greatest statesman of the age," said the queen, while Talleyrand's short figure bowed deeply. "Oh, your majesty is indeed to be envied. You have not only gained great glory, but are also blessed with high-minded and sagacious advisers and executors of your will. If the king my husband had always been equally fortunate, a great many things would not have happened."

"Well, we have induced him to displace at least one bad adviser,"

exclaimed Napoleon. "That man Hardenberg was the evil genius of the king; he is chiefly to blame for the misfortunes that have befallen Prussia, and it was necessary to remove him."

"But he was an experienced statesman," said the queen, whose magnanimous character found it difficult to listen to any charge against Hardenberg without saying something in his defence; "he is a very skilful politician, and it will not be easy for the king to fill the place of Minister von Hardenberg."

"Ah!" said Napoleon, carelessly; "ministers are always to be found. Let him appoint Baron von Stein; he seems to be a man of understanding."

An expression of joyful surprise overspread the queen's face. The king entered. Napoleon met him and offered him his hand. "I wished to give your majesty a proof of my kind disposition in the presence of your n.o.ble and beautiful consort, and, if you have no objection, to a.s.sure you of my friends.h.i.+p," he said. "I have complied as far as possible with all your wishes. The Emperor Alexander, in whom you have an ardent and eloquent friend, will confirm it to you. I also communicated to him my last propositions, and trust that your majesty will acquiesce in them."

"Sire," said the king, coldly, "the Emperor Alexander laid this ultimatum before me, but it would be very painful to me if I should be obliged to accept it. It would deprive me of the old hereditary provinces which form the largest portion of my states."

"I will point out a way to get compensation for these losses," exclaimed Napoleon. "Apply to the Emperor Alexander; let him sacrifice to you his relatives, the Princes of Mecklenburg and Oldenburg. He can also give up to you the King of Sweden, from whom you may take Stralsund and that portion of Pomerania of which he makes such bad use. Let him consent that you should have these acquisitions, not indeed equal to the territories taken from you, but better situated, and, for my part, I shall make no objection."

"Your majesty proposes to me a system of spoliation, to which I can never agree," said the king, proudly. "I complain of the menaced loss of my provinces, not only because it would lessen the extent of my territories, but because they are the hereditary states of my house, and are a.s.sociated with my ancestors by indissoluble ties of love and fealty."

"You see that these ties are not indissoluble after all," exclaimed Napoleon, "for we shall break them, and you will be consoled for the loss by obtaining compensation."

"Possibly others may be more readily consoled for such losses," said the king: "those who are only anxious for the possession of states, and who do not know what it is to part with hereditary provinces in which the most precious reminiscences of our youth have their root, and which we can no more forget than our cradle."

"Cradle!" exclaimed Napoleon, laughing scornfully. "When the child has become a man, he has no time to think of his cradle."

"Yes, he has," said the king, with an angry expression. "We cannot repudiate our childhood, and a man who has a heart must remember the a.s.sociations of his youth."

Napoleon, making no reply, looked grave, while Frederick William fixed his eyes on him with a sullen and defiant expression. The queen felt that it was time for her to prevent a more violent outburst of indignation on the part of her husband. "The real cradle is the tender heart of a mother," she said gently, "and all Europe knows that your majesty does not forget it; all are aware of the reverential love of the great conqueror for Madame Let.i.tia, whom France hails as n.o.ble _Madame Mere_."

Napoleon raised his eyes toward her, and his forbidding expression disappeared. "It is true," he said, "your sons, madame, ought to be envied such a mother. They will owe you many thanks, for it is you, madame, who have saved Prussia by your eloquence and n.o.ble bearing. I repeat to you once more that I shall do what I can to fulfil your wishes. We shall confer further about it. At present, I have the honor to take leave of your majesty."

He offered his hand to the queen. "Sire," she said, profoundly affected, "I hope that, after making the acquaintance of the hero of the century, you will permit me to remember in you the generous conqueror as well as the man of genius." Napoleon silently kissed her hand, and, bowing to the king, left the room.

"Oh!" exclaimed the queen, when she was alone with her husband, "perhaps it was not in vain that I came hither; G.o.d may have imparted strength to my words, and they may have moved the heart of this all-powerful man, so that he will acknowledge our just demands, and shrink from becoming the robber of our property."

In the mean time Napoleon returned to his quarters, accompanied by Talleyrand. But when the minister, on their arrival at the palace, was about to withdraw, the emperor detained him. "Follow me into my cabinet," he said, advancing quickly. Talleyrand limped after him, and a smile, half scornful, half malicious, played on his thin lips.

"The hero who wants to rule over the world," said Talleyrand to himself, "is now seized with a very human pa.s.sion, and I am sure we shall have a highly sentimental scene." He entered the room softly, and lurkingly watched every movement of Napoleon. The emperor threw his small hat on one chair, his gloves and sword on another, and then paced the room repeatedly. Suddenly he stood still in front of Talleyrand and looked him full in the face.

"Were you able to overhear my conversation with the queen?" he asked.

"I was, sire!" said Talleyrand, laconically, "I was able to overhear every word."

"You know, then, for what purpose she came hither," exclaimed Napoleon, and commenced again pacing the apartment.

"Talleyrand," he said, after a pause, "I have wronged this lady. She is an angel of goodness and purity, she is a true woman and a true queen.

It was a crime for me to persecute her. Yes, I confess that I was wrong in offending her. On merely hearing the sound of her voice I felt vanquished, and was as confused and embarra.s.sed as the most timid of men. My hand trembled when I offered her the rose. I have slandered her, but I will make compensation!" He resumed his walk rapidly; a delicate blush mantled his cheeks, and all his features indicated profound emotion. Talleyrand, looking as cold and calm as usual, still stood at the door, and seemed to watch the emperor with the scrutinizing eye of a physician observing the crisis of a disease.

"Yes," added Napoleon, "I ought certainly to compensate her for what I have done. She shall weep no more on my account; she shall no more hate and detest me as a heartless conqueror. I will show her that I can be magnanimous, and compel her to admit that she was mistaken in me. I will raise Prussia from the dust. I will render her more powerful than ever, and enlarge her frontiers instead of narrowing them. And then, when her enchanting eyes are filled with gladness, I will offer my hand to her husband and say to him: 'You were wrong; you were insincere toward me, and I punished you for it. Now let us forget your defeats and my victories; instead of weakening your power, I will increase it that you may become my ally, and remain so forever!' Talleyrand, destroy the conditions I dictated to you; send for Count Goltz; confer with him again, and grant his demands!"

"Sire," exclaimed Talleyrand, apparently in dismay, "sire, shall posterity say that you failed to profit by your most splendid conquest, owing to the impression a beautiful woman made upon you?" The emperor started, and Talleyrand added: "Sire, has the blood of your soldiers who fell at Jena, at Eylau, and at Friedland, been shed in vain, and is it to be washed away by the tears of a lady who now appears to be as inoffensive as a lamb, but who is to blame for this whole war? Your majesty ought not to forget that the Queen of Prussia instigated her husband to begin it--that, at the royal palace of Berlin, you took a solemn oath to punish her, and to take revenge for her warlike spirit, and for the oath over the tomb of Frederick the Great! Ah, the queen, with Frederick William and the Emperor Alexander, would exult at your tender-heartedness; the world would wonder at the weakness of the great captain who allowed himself to be duped by the sighs and seeming humility of the vanquished, and--"

"Enough!" interrupted Napoleon, in a powerful voice--"enough, I say!" He walked several times up and down, and then stood still again in front of Talleyrand. "Send immediately for Count Goltz," he said imperiously, "and inform him of our ultimatum! Tell him in plain words that all I said to the queen were but polite phrases, binding me in no manner, and that I am as firmly determined as ever to fix the Elbe as the future frontier of Prussia--that there was no question of further negotiations--that I had already agreed with the Emperor Alexander as to the various stipulations, and that the king owed his lenient treatment solely to the chivalrous attachment of this monarch, inasmuch as, without his interference, my brother Jerome would have become King of Prussia, while the present dynasty would have been dethroned. You know my resolutions now; proceed in accordance with them, and hasten the conclusion of the whole affair, that I may be annoyed no more. I demand that the treaty be signed to-morrow."

Prussia's fate was therefore decided. The great sacrifice which the queen had made, and with so much reluctance, had been in vain. On the 9th of June, 1807, the treaty of Tilsit was signed by the representatives of France and Prussia.

By virtue of it King Frederick William lost one-half of his territories, consisting of all his possessions beyond the Elbe: Old Prussia, Magdeburg, Hildesheim, Westphalia, Friesland, Erfurt, Eichsfeld, and Baireuth. The Polish provinces were taken from him, as well as a portion of West Prussia, the district of Kulm, including the city of Thorn, half of the district of the Netze, and Dantzic, which was transformed into a free city. Besides, the king acknowledged the Confederation of the Rhine, the Kings of Holland and Westphalia, Napoleon's brothers, and engaged to close his ports against England. And, as was expressly stated in the doc.u.ment, these terms were obtained only "_in consideration of the Emperor of Russia_, and owing to Napoleon's sincere desire to attach both nations to each other by indissoluble bonds of confidence and friends.h.i.+p."

Russia, which had signed the treaty on the preceding day, gained a large portion of Eastern Prussia, the frontier district of Bialystock, and thus enriched herself with the spoils taken from her own ally.

Thus Frederick William concluded peace, losing his most important territories, and having his ten millions of subjects reduced to five millions. The genius of Prussia, Queen Louisa, veiled her head and wept!

BOOK IV.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

BARON VON STEIN.

Profound sadness reigned for several weeks at the house of Baron Charles von Stein. Tears were in the eyes of his children, and whenever their mother came from her husband's room and joined them for a moment, they seemed in her only to seek comfort and hope. But the anxious face of the baroness became more sorrowful, and the family physician, who visited the house several times a day, was more taciturn and grave. Baron von Stein was ill, and his disease was one of those which baffle the skill of the physician, because their seat is to be sought less in the body than in the mind. Prussia's misfortunes had prostrated Stein. Sick at heart, and utterly broken down, at the commencement of 1807, after the violent scene with King Frederick William, he left Konigsberg, and travelled slowly toward Na.s.sau. There he met his family, and ever since lived in retirement. Never in his grief had he uttered a complaint, or manifested any loss of temper, but his face had become paler, his gait slower, and indicative of increasing weakness and exhaustion. He yielded at last to the tears of his wife, and the repeated remonstrances of his physician, to submit to medical treatment.

But medicine did not restore him; his strength decreased, and the fever wrecking his body grew more violent. The disease had recently, however, a.s.sumed a definite character; the news of the disaster of Friedland, and of the humiliating treaty of Tilsit, had violently shaken his const.i.tution, and the physician was now able to discern the true character of the malady and give it a name. It was the tertian fever which alternately reddened and paled the baron's cheeks, at times paralyzing his clear, powerful mind, or moving his lips to utter unmeaning words, the signs of his delirium.

Baron von Stein had just undergone another attack of his dangerous disease. All night long his devoted wife had watched at his bedside, and listened despondingly to his groans, his fantastic expressions, his laughter and lamentations. In the morning the sufferer had grown calmer; consciousness had returned, and his eyes sparkled again with intelligence. The fever had left him, but he was utterly prostrated. The physician had just paid him a visit, and examined his condition in silence. "Dear doctor," whispered the baroness, as he was departing, "you find my husband very ill, I suppose? Oh, I read it in your face; I perceive from your emotion that you have not much hope of his recovery!"

And the tears she knew how to conceal in the sick-room fell without restraint.

"He is very ill," said the physician, thoughtfully, "but I do not believe his case to be entirely hopeless; for an unforeseen circ.u.mstance may come to our a.s.sistance and give his mind some energy, when it will favorably influence the body. If the body alone were suffering, science would suggest ways and means to cure a disease which, in itself, is easily overcome. The tertain fever belongs neither to the dangerous acute diseases nor to any graver cla.s.s. But, in this case, it is only the external eruption of a disease seated in the patient's mind."

"Whence, then, is recovery to come in these calamitous and depressing times?" said the baroness, mournfully. "His grief at the misfortunes of Prussia is gnawing at his heart, and all the mortifications and misrepresentations he has suffered at the hands of the very men whom he served with so much fidelity have pierced his soul like poisoned daggers. Oh, I shall never pardon the king that he could so bitterly mortify and humble my n.o.ble husband, who is enthusiastically devoted to Prussia--that he could mistake his character so grievously, and prefer such cruel charges against him. He called him--the best, the most intelligent and reliable of all his servants--a seditious man; he charged him with being self-willed, stubborn, and proud, and said he was mischievous and disobedient to the state. Oh, believe me, that accusation is what troubles Stein! The King of Prussia has humbled his pride so deeply and unjustly, that a reconciliation between them is out of the question. Stein lives, thinks, and grieves only for his country, and yet the insulting vehemence and unfeeling words of the king have rendered it impossible for him ever to reenter the Prussian service. He sees that his country is sinking every day, and that she is ruined not only by foreign enemies, but by domestic foes preying at the vitals of her administration. He would like to help her--he feels that he has stored up the means to do so in his experience--and yet he cannot. I ask you, therefore, my friend, where is the balm for his wounded soul?"

"I do not know," said the physician, "but we must get it. Germany has not now so many high-minded and courageous men that she could spare one, and the best of them all. The genius of Germany will a.s.suredly find a remedy to save her n.o.ble champion, Baron von Stein."

"Ah, you believe still in the genius of Germany?" asked the baroness, mournfully. "You see all the horrors, the shame, the degradation that Germany, and especially Prussia, have to suffer! The calamities of our country, then, my friend, have transformed you into a believer, and made of the rationalist a mystic, believing in miracles? You know I was. .h.i.therto pious, and a faithful believer, but now I begin to doubt. Now I ask myself anxiously whether there really is a G.o.d in heaven, who directs and ordains every thing, and yet permits us to be thus trampled in the dust."

"Our duty is, perhaps, to strengthen ourselves by misfortunes," said the physician. "Germany was sleeping so profoundly that she could only be aroused by calamity, and become fully alive to her degrading position. But, believe me, she is opening her eyes, and seeking for those who can help her. She cannot forget Baron von Stein; but must feel that she stands in need of him."

"May you be a true prophet!" said the baroness, sighing, "and that your words--but hark!" she interrupted herself, "some one is violently ringing the door-bell! He must be a stranger, for none of the citizens would announce a visit in so noisy a manner. The inhabitants manifest sympathy for us; many come every morning to inquire about my husband.

Without solicitation our neighbors have spread a layer of straw in front of the house, and along the street, that no noise may disturb the beloved sufferer, and--"

Just then the door opened, and a footman stated that a stranger desired to see the baroness concerning a matter of great importance.

"Me?" she asked, wonderingly.

"He asked first for Baron von Stein," replied the footman, "and when I told him that my master was very ill, he seemed alarmed. But he bade me announce his visit to the baroness, and tell her that he had made a long journey, and was the bearer of important news."