THE WARNING.
"Well, M. Chancellor," said the king, when Thile had left the room,
"tell me your opinion--the best way by which we may counteract this
senseless and rash step, and succeed in preserving our country from
the disastrous consequences."
"Your majesty, then, is not willing to approve of the bold act York
has taken?" asked Hardenberg.
"I hope you did not indulge for a moment in such a belief,"
exclaimed the king. "York was perhaps justified in preserving his
troops from being needlessly sacrificed; but he should have based
his conduct solely on this idea, and from it have explained his
action. Instead of doing so, he justifies it by political motives,
and thereby compromises and endangers my own position. Now, I am
myself entirely at the mercy of France, and utterly destitute of
means to brave the anger of Napoleon." [Footnote: The king's words.-
-Vide Droysen, vol. i., p. 488.]
"No," said Hardenberg, "your majesty is not entirely at the mercy of
France, and Napoleon's anger must no longer be allowed to terrify
Prussia. You have only to raise your voice and call out your
faithful subjects, and the whole nation will rise as one man;
thousands will rally round their king, and you will enter with an
invincible army upon the holy war of liberation. It will not be with
a visible army only that you will take the field--an invisible army
will accompany you--the army of minds and hearts, the grand army
whose chieftain is public opinion, whose soldier is every beggar on
the street, whose cannon is every word that is uttered, every love-
greeting and every blessing. Oh, your majesty, this 'grand army'
will pave the way for you, and will enlist everywhere new recruits,
fill your military chests, clothe and feed your soldiers, and, under
your colors, fight the enemy whom all Germany--all Europe hates
intensely, and whose yoke every one feels weighing upon his neck.
Oh, let me assure your majesty that it is only for you to be
willing, and all Prussia will rally round you for the war of
liberation!"
"But I must not be willing," said the king; "it is contrary to my
honor and my conscience. I pledged my word to the Emperor Napoleon;
I am his ally; I am deeply impressed with the sanctity of my
existing treaties with France, and feel, as every man of honor
would, that the obligation to maintain them inviolate is only
rendered the more sacred by the disasters which have overwhelmed the
imperial armies. Besides, you look at things in a light by far too
partial and rose-colored. Do not confound your enthusiastic hopes
with stern reality. The 'grand army of public opinion,' to which you
refer, is an ally which cannot be depended upon--it is fickle,
turning with every wind--it is an ally prodigal of words, but not of
deeds. If my soldiers were to be clothed, and fed by public opinion,
they would likely go naked and die of hunger. If my military chests
wait for public opinion to fill them, they would remain empty.
Public opinion, by the way, has always been on my side and against
Napoleon; it has, for six years past, disapproved--nay, indignantly
condemned his course toward Prussia, and still it has permitted
Napoleon to halve my states; to take much more than he was entitled
to by the treaty of Tilsit; to leave his troops in my states, in
spite of the express stipulations of the treaties; to impose
contributions on Prussia and extort their payment. Public opinion
deplored it as a terrible calamity that I should be, as it were, a
prisoner here in the capital of my own monarchy, and at the palace
of my ancestors, and live under the cannon of Spandau, a fortress
unlawfully occupied by the French. Public opinion, I say, deplored
my fate, but it did not come to my assistance; it did not preserve
me from the humiliations which, at Dresden, I had to endure, not
only at the hands of Napoleon, but of all the German princes. Do
not, therefore, allude again to your 'grand army of public opinion;'
I despise it, and know its fickle and faithless character. By virtue
of the existing treaties, I made my troops participate in Napoleon's
campaign against Russia. More than one-half of my soldiers have been
devoured by wolves on the fields of Russia; the other half are now
in open insurrection. And these are the troops with whom I am to
conquer!--conquer that powerful France which is able to call up
fresh armies as from the ground, and into the treasury of which her
unlimited resources are pouring millions! No, no; I will not plunge
into so hazardous an enterprise. I will not, for the sake of a
chimera, risk my last provinces, the inheritance of my children; I
could joyously give up my life in order to bring about a change of
our present deplorable situation, but I am not at liberty to
endanger my crown--the crown of my successor. Prussia must not be
blotted from the map of nations; she shall not be swallowed by
France, and I am therefore obliged patiently to bear the burden of
these times and submit to circumstances. Hence, I am not at liberty
to pardon General York's crime, but must punish him for his conduct
in accordance with the laws of war. I must give satisfaction to the
Emperor of France for the unheard-of conduct of my general, and he
shall have it! General von York shall be superseded in his command,
cashiered, and put on his trial before a military commission.
General Kleist will take command of the troops in his place."
"And will your majesty cashier likewise all the officers who
received the announcement of the bold resolution of their general
with enthusiastic cheers?" asked Hardenberg. "Will your majesty
likewise put on trial the spirit of resistance pervading the whole
Prussian corps? I beseech you again, in the name of your army and
your people--in the name of the magnanimous queen whose inspiring
eyes are gazing upon us from yonder portrait--take a bold and
sublime stand! Risk every thing in order to win every thing! Approve
York's step, place yourself at the head of the army, call upon the
Prussians--the Germans--to rally round your flag! Oh, your majesty,
believe me, Germany is only waiting for your war-cry. Every thing is
prepared, all are armed--all weapons, all hands are ready--all eyes
are fixed upon your majesty! Oh, do not hesitate longer; make our
night end, and the new day commence. Declare war against France--
leave her to her destiny!"
The king walked with rapid steps and in visible agitation; and,
whenever he passed the queen's portrait, he raised his eyes toward
it with an anxious expression. Standing in front of Hardenberg, and
laying his hand on his shoulder, he looked gravely into his pale,
quivering face. "Hardenberg," he said at last, in an undertone, "I
cannot allow General York to remain unpunished; I am not at liberty
to approve his course, even--well, yes, even though I should wish to
do so. As commander-in-chief of my army it is above all incumbent on
me to maintain discipline. York acted without regard to his
instructions, and without having received any orders from me to
enter into so dangerous a course, and I ought not afterward to
approve what one of my generals has done in so reckless and
arbitrary a manner. That would be rendering obedience dependent on
the whims and inclinations of every officer of my army.
Unconditional obedience, entire subordination of the individual
will--that is the bond which keeps armies together, and I cannot
loosen it. Where sacred and necessary principles are at stake, I
must not listen to the voice of my heart!"
"But still you ought to listen to the voice of prudence, your
majesty," exclaimed Hardenberg, emphatically. "Now, prudence renders
it necessary for you to fight at this juncture against the
perfidious enemy, who never fulfilled his treaties, never kept his
word, and is even now plotting mischief."
"What do you mean?" asked the king, hastily.
"I mean that your majesty is every day in danger of being arrested
at the slightest symptom that may appear suspicious to the French
gentlemen, and of being secretly conveyed to France. I mean that the
French are anxious that you should give them such a pretext, so that
they might charge you with secret machinations, send you to France,
and appropriate the whole of Prussia. Little King Jerome is tired of
his improvised kingdom of Westphalia. He longs for a more exalted
throne, the existence of which has already been consecrated by
centuries, and for a crown which need not, like his present one, be
specially created for him. Napoleon has promised his brother the
crown and throne of Prussia in case your majesty should give him the
slightest ground for complaint. He has therefore here in Berlin a
host of spies charged with watching every word, movement, and step
of your majesty. Oh, believe me, you are at all hours in danger of
seizure and secret removal. I am familiar with the whole plot; by
means of bribery, dissimulation, and cunning, I have wormed myself
into the confidence of, and gained over to my side, some of these
spies. They have informed me that every day, shortly before
nightfall, a closed carriage drives up to the royal palace, and
waits there all the night long; that, at a short distance from it,
soldiers are posted in isolated groups behind the trees, on the
opera place, and the corners of the streets intersecting the Linden;
that the royal palace is surrounded constantly by a number of agents
of the French police, and that some of these men always find means
to slip into the palace, where they conceal themselves in dark
corners and in the garden, or the yard, in order to watch every
movement of your majesty. What should be the object of all these
proceedings, but, on the first occasion, at the slightest symptom of
your defection, to seize the sacred person of your majesty, to carry
into effect Jerome's ambitious schemes, and transform the theatre
king into a real king?"
Frederick William's face grew pale and gloomy; he compressed his
lips as he used to do when any thing displeasing was communicated to
him. "You have told me one of the absurd stories with which nurses
try to frighten their children," he said, harshly. "But I do not
believe it, nor shall I allow myself to be frightened and take
imprudent steps. No one will dare attack or arrest me. I am the
faithful ally of France, and have proved by my actions that I am
animated with honest intentions toward her, and stand sincerely by
the alliance which I have pledged my word to maintain."
"But suppose France should look upon this defection of General York
as brought about by the secret orders of your majesty? Suppose
Napoleon, in his incessant distrust, and Jerome, in his ardent
desire for the possession of Prussia, should, notwithstanding all
protestations of your majesty to the contrary, believe in an
understanding between York and his king, and therein find a welcome
pretext for carrying into effect their infamous schemes, seizing
your majesty, and annihilating Prussia?"
"I shall give them such convincing proofs of my sentiments that it
will be impossible for them to believe in an understanding between
myself and York," exclaimed the king. "Enough! I adhere to my
resolution. York must be removed from his command, and General
Kleist will be his successor. I shall, besides, address an autograph
letter to Murat, the emperor's lieutenant at the head of the army,
and express to him my profound indignation at what has occurred, and
inform him of the penalty which I am about to inflict on York."
"Very well," said Hardenberg, sighing, "if your majesty so resolves,
it must be done; but it should be done in haste--this very hour.
Count St. Marsan is waiting for me at his residence, to learn from
me the decisions of your majesty before sending off his couriers to
the Emperor Napoleon. It will be necessary for us to lay before him
the letter which your majesty intends to write to the King of
Naples, as well as the formal order in regard to the removal of
General York. You ought also at once to name the courier who is to
convey your majesty's orders and letters to the two camps in Old
Prussia."
"You are right; all this must be done immediately," said the king,
seizing his silver bell and ringing. The door opened, and Timm the
chamberlain entered. "Go to my aide-de-camp, Major Natzmer," said
the king to him. "Inform him that he is to set out immediately on a
journey, and should, therefore, quickly prepare. In four hours every
thing must be done, and Major Natzmer must then be in my anteroom.
Go yourself to him, Timm, and inform him of my orders. This one
courier will be sufficient," said the king, turning again to
Hardenberg, after Timm had left the room. "Natzmer will first repair
to the headquarters of the King of Naples, deliver my letter to him,
show him the orders intended for Kleist and York, and then go to the
Russian camp in order to deliver these orders to my generals."
"Will your majesty not write also a letter to the Emperor Alexander,
begging him to spare your troops, whom Wittgenstein henceforth will
consider enemies, and to address a word of consolation and
encouragement to the emperor, whose magnanimous heart will bitterly
feel this new disappointment?"
"Very well," said the king, after a brief reflection, "I will write
such a letter to Alexander, and Natzmer shall himself take it after
previously seeing Murat, Wittgenstein, and York."
An hour afterward the king wrote his letters, and Hardenberg drew up
the decree removing York from the command of the army. The
chancellor of state then left the king's cabinet to repair to the
residence of the French ambassador, and inform him of the
resolutions of his majesty. The king looked after him long and
musingly, and, folding his hands behind him, paced his room. A
profound silence reigned around him; the storm of the cold January
night swept dense masses of snow against the windows, making them
rattle as if spectral hands were tapping at the panes: the wax-
tapers on the silver candelabra, standing on the king's desk, had
burned low, and their flickering light flashed on the noble portrait
of the queen. The king noticed the fitfully illuminated face gazing
upon him, as it were, with a quick and repeated greeting; he could
not help gently nodding, as if to return the salutation, and then
approached the portrait with slow steps.
"Louisa," he said, in a loud, solemn voice, "God has counted your
tears, and taken upon Himself the revenge of your wrongs. It was at
Piktupobnen where you first met Napoleon, and where the overbearing
man bowed your noble head in the dust. At Piktupobnen the Queen of
Prussia implored the emperor of the French to spare her country, and
grant her lenient terms of peace. It was France now that was waiting
for Prussia at the same place, asking Prussia for assistance, and
Prussia refused it. Where the disgraceful alliance commenced has
been seen its bitter end. God is just; He has counted your tears,
and He is preparing your revenge. It began at Piktupobnen."