THE INTERRUPTED SUPPER.
It was on the 4th of January, 1813. The brilliant official
festivities with which the beginning of a new year had been
celebrated, were at an end, and, the ceremonious dinner-parties
being over, one was again at liberty to indulge in the enjoyment of
familiar suppers, where more attention was paid to the flavor of
choice wines and delicacies than to official toasts and political
speeches. Marshal Augereau gave at Berlin on this day one of those
pleasant little entertainments to his favored friends, to indemnify
them, as it were, for the great gala dinner of a hundred covers,
given by him on the 1st of January, as official representative of
the Emperor Napoleon.
To-day the supper was served in the small, cozy saloon, and it was
but a petit comite that assembled round the table in the middle of
the room. This comite consisted only of five gentlemen, with
pleasant, smiling faces, in gorgeous, profusely-embroidered
uniforms, on the left sides of which many glittering orders
indicated the high rank of the small company. There was, in the
first place, Marshal Augereau, governor of Berlin, once so furious a
republican that he threatened with death all the members of his
division who would address any one with "monsieur," or "madame"--now
the most ardent imperialist, and an admirer of the Emperor Napoleon.
The gentleman by his side, with the short, corpulent figure and
aristocratic countenance, from which a smile never disappeared, was
the chancellor of state and prime minister of King Frederick William
III, Baron von Hardenberg. He was just engaged in an eager
conversation with his neighbor, Count Narbonne, the faithless
renegade and former adherent of the Bourbons, who had but lately
deserted to Napoleon's camp, and allowed himself to be used by the
emperor on various diplomatic missions. Next to him sat Prince
Hatzfeld, the man on whom, in 1807, Napoleon's anger had fallen, and
who would have been shot as a "traitor" if the impassioned
intercession of his wife had not succeeded in softening the emperor,
and thus saving her husband's life. Near him, and closing the
circle, sat Count St. Marsan, Napoleon's ambassador at the court of
Prussia.
These five gentlemen had already been at the table for several
hours, and were now in that comfortable and agreeable mood which
epicures feel when they have found the numerous courses palatable
and piquant, the Hock sufficiently cold, the Burgundy sufficiently
warm, the oysters fresh, and the truffles well-flavored. They had
got as far as the roast; the pheasants, with their delicate sauce,
filled the room with an appetizing odor, and the corks of the
champagne-bottles gave loud reports, as if by way of salute fired in
honor of the triumphant entry of Pleasure.
Marshal Augereau raised his glass. "I drink this in honor of our
emperor!" he exclaimed, in an enthusiastic tone. The gentlemen
touched each other's glasses, and the three representatives of
France then emptied theirs at one draught. Prince Hatzfeld followed
their example, but Baron von Hardenberg only touched the brim of his
glass with his lips, and put it down again.
"Your excellency does not drink?" asked Augereau. "Then you are not
in earnest?"
"Yes, marshal, I am in earnest," said Hardenberg, smiling, "but you
used a word which prevented me from emptying my glass. You said, 'In
honor of OUR emperor!' Now, I am the devoted and, I may well say,
faithful servant of my master, King Frederick William, and therefore
I cannot call the great Napoleon my emperor."
"Oh, I used a wrong expression," exclaimed Augereau, hastily. "Let
us fill our glasses anew, and drink this time 'the health of the
great emperor Napoleon!'" he touched glasses with the chancellor of
state, and then fixed his keen eyes upon the minister.
Baron von Hardenberg raised the glass to his lips, but then withdrew
it again, and, bowing smilingly to Marshal Augereau, said: "Permit
me, marshal, to add something to your toast. Let us drink 'the
health of the great emperor, and a long and prosperous alliance with
Prussia!'"
"'And a long and prosperous alliance with Prussia,'" repeated the
four gentlemen, emptying their glasses, and resuming their chairs.
"We have just drunk to the success of our divulged secret," said
Prince Hatzfeld, smiling. "For I suppose, your excellency," turning
to Baron von Hardenberg, "this new happy alliance between Prussia
and France is now not much of a secret?"
"I hope it will soon be no secret at all," said Hardenberg. "Prussia
has received the proposition of France with heartfelt joy, and will
hail the marriage of her crown prince Frederick William as the
happiest guaranty of an indissoluble union. Only the crown prince is
too young as yet to marry, and at the present time, at least,
allusions to the happiness of his future should be avoided. His
thoughts should belong only to God and religion, for you know,
gentlemen, that the crown prince will be solemnly confirmed in the
course of a few days. Only after he has pledged his soul to God will
it be time for him to pledge his heart to love; only then
communications will be made to him as to the brilliant future that
is opening for him, and, no doubt, he will, like the king, be ready
to bind even more firmly the ties uniting Prussia with France. He
will be proud to receive for a consort a princess of the house of
Napoleon, for such a marriage will render him a relative of the
greatest prince of his century!"
"Of a prince whom Heaven loves above all others, as it lavishes upon
him greater prosperity than upon others," exclaimed Prince Hatzfeld,
emphatically. "God's love is visibly with him, and protects His
favorite. Who but he would have been able to overcome the terrible
dangers of the Russian campaign, and, with an eagle's flight, return
to France from the snowy deserts of Russia, without losing a single
plume of his wings?"
"It is true," responded Augereau, thoughtfully. "Fortune, or, if you
prefer, Providence, is with the emperor; it protects him in all
dangers, and allows him to issue victoriously from all storms. In
Russia he was in danger of ruining his glory and his army, but the
battle of Borodino, and still more that on the banks of the
Beresina, saved his laurels. The emperor travelled deserted roads,
without an escort or protection, through Poland and Germany, in
order to return to France. If he had been recognized, perhaps it
might have entered the heads of some enthusiasts to attack and
capture him on his solitary journey; but the eyes of his enemies
seemed to have been blinded. The emperor was not recognized, and
appeared suddenly in Paris, where the greatest excitement,
consternation, and confusion, were prevailing at that moment. For
Paris had just then been profoundly moved by the deplorable
conspiracy of General Mallet, and the Parisians were asking each
other in dismay whether General Mallet might not have been right
after all in announcing that Napoleon was dead, and whether his
death was not kept a secret merely from motives of policy. Suddenly
Napoleon appeared in the streets of Paris. All rushed out to behold
the emperor, or touch his horse, body, hands, or feet, to look into
his eyes, to hear his voice, and satisfy themselves that it was
really Napoleon--not an apparition. Their cheers rang, and, in their
happiness at seeing him again in their midst, they pardoned him for
having left their sons and brothers, fathers and husbands, as frozen
corpses on the plains of Russia. Never before had Napoleon enjoyed a
greater triumph as on the day of his return from the Russian
campaign. Fortune is the goddess chained to the emperor's triumphal
car, and the nations therefore would act very foolishly if they
dared rise against him."
"Happily, they have given up all such schemes," said Hardenberg,
smiling, and quietly cutting the pheasant's wing on his silver
plate. "They are asking and longing only for peace in order to dress
their wounds, cultivate their fields, and peaceably reap the
harvest."
"And the word of the Emperor Napoleon is a pledge to nations that
they shall be enabled to do so," exclaimed St. Marsan. "He wants
peace, and is ready to make every sacrifice to conclude and maintain
it."
"The German princes, of course, will joyously offer him their hands
for that purpose," said Hardenberg, bowing his head. "In truth, I
could not say at what point of Germany war could break out at this
juncture. The princes of the German Confederation of the Rhine have
long since acknowledged the Emperor of the French as their master,
and themselves as his obedient vassals. Powerful Austria has allied
herself with France by the ties of a marriage, and the hands of
Maria Louisa and Napoleon are stretched out in blessing over the two
countries. Poor Prussia has not only proved her fidelity as an ally
of France, but is now, forgetful of all her former humiliations,
ready to consent to a marriage of her future king with a Napoleonic
princess. Whence, then, could come a cause for a new war between
France and Germany? We shall have peace, doubtless--a long and
durable peace!"
"And that will be very fortunate," said Count Narbonne, "for then it
will no longer be necessary for us to allow miserable politics to
poison our suppers. 'Politics,' said my great royal patron, King
Louis XVI, the worthy uncle of the Emperor Napoleon, 'politics know
nothing of the culinary art; they spoil all dishes, and care,
therefore, ought to be taken not to allow them to enter the kitchen
or the dining-room. One must not admit them even directly after
eating, for they interfere with digestion; only during the morning
hours should audiences be given to them, for then they may serve as
Spanish pepper, imparting a flavor to one's breakfast.' That was a
very sagacious remark; I feel it at this moment when you so cruelly
sprinkle politics over this splendid pheasant."
"You are right," exclaimed Hardenberg, laughing, "I therefore beg
your excellency's pardon; for Spanish pepper, which is very
palatable in Cumberland sauce, and a few other dishes, is surely
entirely out of place when mixed with French truffles."
"Unhappy man," exclaimed Narbonne, with ludicrous pathos, "you are
again talking politics, and moreover of the worst sort!"
"How so?" asked Count St. Marsan. "What displeases you in the
remarks of Minister von Hardenberg?"
"Well, did you not notice that his excellency alluded to our
unsuccessful efforts in Spain? Spanish pepper, he said, is surely
entirely out of place when mixed with French truffles, but very
palatable in English sauces. That is to say, Spain and England are
good allies, and Spain and France will never be reconciled. And it
is true, it is a mortal war which Spain is waging against us, and
unfortunately one which, offers us but few chances of success. The
Spaniards contest every inch of ground with the most dogged
obstinacy, and they have found very valuable auxiliaries in Lord
Wellington and his English troops. They--"
"Ah, my dear count," exclaimed Marshal Augereau, smiling, "now it is
you who talk politics, and it behooves you no longer to accuse us."
"You are right, and I beg your pardon," said Narbonne; "but you see
how true the old proverb proves: 'Bad examples spoil good manners.'
Let us talk no longer about pepper, but truffles. Just compare this
truffle from Perigord with the Italian truffle at the entremets, and
you will have to admit that our Perigord truffle is in every respect
superior to the latter. It is more savory and piquant. There can be
no doubt of it that Perigord furnishes the most palatable fruit to
the world."
"What fruit do you allude to?" asked Hardenberg, smiling. "Do you
refer to the Perigord truffle, or to the Abbot of Perigord, the
great Talleyrand?"
"I see you are lost beyond redemption," said Narbonne, sighing,
while the other gentlemen burst into laughter. "Even in the face of
a truffle you still dare to amuse yourself with political puns, and
confound intentionally an abbot with a truffle! Oh, what a blasphemy
against the finest of all fruits--I allude, of course, to the
truffle--oh, it is treason committed--"
Just then the door of the saloon was hastily opened, and the first
secretary of the French embassy entered the room.
"What, sir!" shouted Count St. Marsan to him, "you come to disturb
me here? Some important event, then, has taken place?"
The secretary approached him hurriedly. "Yes, your excellency," he
said, "highly important and urgent dispatches have arrived. They
come from the army, and an aide-de-camp of Marshal Macdonald is
their bearer. He has travelled night and day to reach your
excellency at an earlier moment than the courier whom General von
York no doubt has sent to the King of Prussia. Here are the
dispatches which the aide-de-camp of the marshal has brought for
you, and which he says ought immediately to be read by your
excellency." He handed the count a large sealed letter, which the
latter eagerly accepted and at once opened.
A profound silence now reigned in the small saloon. The faces of the
boon companions at the table had grown grave, and all fixed their
eyes with an anxious and searching expression upon the countenance
of Count St. Marsan. He read the dispatch at first with a calm and
indifferent air, but suddenly his features assumed an expression of
astonishment--nay, of anger, and a gloomy cloud covered his brow.
"All right," he then said, turning to the secretary. "Return to the
legation. I will follow you in a few minutes." The secretary bowed
and withdrew. The five gentlemen were again alone.
"Well," asked Marshal Augereau, "were the dispatches really
important?"
Count St. Marsan made no immediate reply. He looked slowly around
the circle of his companions, and fixed his eyes with a piercing
expression on the countenance of Chancellor von Hardenberg. "Yes,"
he said, "they contain highly important news, and I wonder if his
excellency the chancellor of state has not yet received them, for
the dispatches concern above all the Prussian army."
"But I pledge your excellency my word of honor that I do not know
what you refer to," said Hardenberg, gravely. "I have received no
courier and no startling news from the Prussian army."
"Well, then," said St. Marsan, bowing, "permit me to communicate it
to you. General York, commander of the Prussian troops belonging to
the forces of Marshal Macdonald, has refused to obey the marshal's
orders. He has gone even further than that, concluding a treaty with
Russia, with the enemy of France and Prussia; and signed at
Tauroggen, with the Russian General von Diebitsch, a convention by
virtue of which he severs his connection with the French army, and,
with the consent of Russia, declares that the Prussian corps
henceforth will be neutral."
"But this impossible," exclaimed Hardenberg, "he would not dare any
thing of the kind; he would not violate in so flagrant a manner the
orders given him by his king!"
"But he did so," said Augereau, "and if your excellency should have
any doubts as to the truth of what Count St. Marsan said, here is
the autograph letter in which General von York informs Marshal
Macdonald of his defection; and, besides, another letter in which
the commander of the cavalry, General von Massenbach, notifies
Marshal Macdonald that he has acceded to York's convention, and
henceforth will no longer obey the marshal's orders. Conformably to
this convention, the Prussian troops have already left the positions
assigned them by Marshal Macdonald, and returned to Prussian
territory."
"It is true; there can be no doubt of it," said Hardenberg, with a
deep sigh, and handing back to the marshal the papers which he had
rapidly glanced over. He then rose from his chair and said: "This is
so unparalleled and unexpected an event, that I am at the present
moment almost unable to collect my thoughts. You will pardon me,
therefore, for leaving you; above all, I have to inform his majesty,
the king, of this important intelligence, and receive his orders in
regard to it. But then I beg leave to see Count St. Marsan at his
residence, to confer with him as to the measures to be taken
concerning this terrible event."
"I will await you at whatever hour of the night it may be," said
Count St. Marsan; "I am now about to return to my residence."
"And I to the king!" exclaimed Hardenberg, taking leave.