Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
NAPOLEON IN GERMANY
LOUISA OF PRUSSIA AND HER TIMES
A Historical Novel
By Louise Muhlbach
Translated From The German By F. Jordan
CONTENTS
CAMPO FORMIO.
CHAPTER I. DREADFUL TIDINGS.
CHAPTER II. MINISTER VON THUGUT.
CHAPTER III. THE INTERVIEW.
CHAPTER IV. THE TWO MINISTERS.
CHAPTER V. THE HOUSE IN THE GUMPENDORFER SUBURB.
CHAPTER VI. JOSEPH HAYDN
CHAPTER VII. GENERAL BONAPARTE
CHAPTER VIII. THE TREATY OF CAMPO FORMIO.
THE YOUNG QUEEN OF PRUSSIA.
CHAPTER IX. QUEEN LOUISA.
CHAPTER X. THE KING’S RECOLLECTIONS.
CHAPTER XI. THE YOUNG KING.
CHAPTER XII. FREDERICK GENTZ.
CHAPTER XIII. THE INTERVIEW WITH THE MINISTER OF FINANCE.
CHAPTER XIV. THE MEMORIAL TO FREDERICK WILLIAM III
CHAPTER XV. THE WEDDING.
CHAPTER XVI. MARIANNE MEIER.
CHAPTER XVII. LOVE AND POLITICS.
FRANCE AND GERMANY.
CHAPTER XVIII. CITOYENNE JOSEPHINE BONAPARTE.
CHAPTER XIX. BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE.
CHAPTER XX. THE RECEPTION OF THE AMBASSADORS.
CHAPTER XXI. FRANCE AND AUSTRIA.
CHAPTER XXII. THE BANNER OF GLORY.
CHAPTER XXIII. MINISTER THUGUT.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE FESTIVAL OF THE VOLUNTEERS.
CHAPTER XXV. THE RIOT.
LAST DAYS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
CHAPTER XXVI. VICTORIA DE POUTET.
CHAPTER XXVII. RASTADT.
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE JUSTIFICATION.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE ASSASSINATION.
CHAPTER XXX. JEAN DEBRY.
CHAPTER XXXI. THE COALITION.
CHAPTER XXXII. THE FRIEND OF PEACE.
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE LEGITIMATE WIFE.
CHAPTER XXXIV. THE EIGHTEENTH OF BRUMAIRE.
THE PEACE OF LUNEVILLE
CHAPTER XXXV. JOHANNES MULLER.
CHAPTER XXXVI. THUGUT’S FALL.
CHAPTER XXXVII. FANNY VON ARNSTEIN.
CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE RIVALS.
CHAPTER XXXIX. THE LEGACY.
CHAPTER XL. THE FIRST CONSUL.
CHAPTER XLI. TWO GERMAN SAVANTS.
THE THIRD COALITION.
CHAPTER XLII. THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON.
CHAPTER XLIII. NAPOLEON AND THE GERMAN PRINCES.
CHAPTER XLIV. QUEEN LOUISA’S PIANO LESSON.
CHAPTER XLV. THE CONFERENCE.
CHAPTER XLVI. THE OATH AT THE GRAVE OF FREDERICK THE GREAT.
THE FALL OF THE GERMAN EMPIRE.
CHAPTER XLVII. EVIL TIDINGS.
CHAPTER XLVIII. BEFORE THE BATTLE.
CHAPTER XLIX. “GOTT ERHALTE FRANZ DEN KAISER!”
CHAPTER L. PATRIOTISM.
CHAPTER LI. JUDITH.
CHAPTER LII. NAPOLEON AND THE PRUSSIAN MINISTER.
CHAPTER LIII. JUDITH AND HOLOFERNES
CHAPTER LIV. THE FALL OF THE GERMAN EMPIRE.
THE BATTLE OF JENA.
CHAPTER LV. A GERMAN BOOKSELLER AND MARTYR.
CHAPTER LVI. THE ARREST.
CHAPTER LVII. A WIFE’S LOVE.
CHAPTER LVIII. THE WOMEN OF BRAUNAU.
CHAPTER LIX. THE LAST HOUR.
CHAPTER LX. PRUSSIA’S DECLARATION OF WAR.
CHAPTER LXI. A BAD OMEN.
CHAPTER LXII. BEFORE THE BATTLE.
CHAPTER LXIII. THE GERMAN PHILOSOPHER.
CAMPO FORMIO.
CHAPTER I.
DREADFUL TIDINGS.
The population of Vienna was paralyzed with terror; a heavy gloom
weighed down all minds, and the strength of the stoutest hearts seemed
broken. Couriers had arrived today from the camp of the army, and
brought the dreadful tidings of an overwhelming defeat of the Austrian
forces. Bonaparte, the young general of the French Republic, who, in the
course of one year (1796), had won as many battles and as much glory
as many a great and illustrious warrior during the whole course of an
eventful life--Bonaparte had crossed the Italian Alps with the serried
columns of his army, and the most trusted military leaders of Austria
were fleeing before him in dismay. The hero of Lodi and Arcole had won
new victories, and these victories constantly diminished the distance
between his army and the menaced capital of Austria.
Archduke Charles had been defeated by Massena, and driven back to
Villach; Bernadotte had reached Laybach; the citadels of Goritz,
Triest, and Laybach had surrendered; Klagenfurth, after a most desperate
struggle, had been forced to open its gates to the conquerors; Loudon,
with his brave troops, had been dispersed in the Tyrol; Botzen had
opened its gates to General Joubert, who, after a brief sojourn, left
that city in order to join Bonaparte, who, in his victorious career, was
advancing resistlessly toward Vienna.
Such were tidings which the couriers had brought, and these tidings were
well calculated to produce a panic in the Austrian capital. While the
court and the nobility were concealing their grief and their sorrows
in the interior of their palaces, the populace rushed into the streets,
anxiously inquiring for later intelligence, and still hopeful that God
in His mercy might perhaps send down some ray of light that would dispel
this gloom of anguish and despair.
But a pall covered Vienna, and everybody looked sad and dejected.
Suddenly some new movement of terror seemed to pervade the crowd that
had gathered on the Kohlmarkt. [Footnote: Cabbage Market.] As if a storm
were raising up the waves of this black sea of human figures, the dense
mass commenced to undulate to and fro, and a wail of distress arose,
growing louder and louder, until it finally broke out into the terrible
cry: “The emperor has deserted us! the emperor and the empress have fled
from Vienna!”
While the masses were bewailing this new misfortune with the
manifestations of despair, while they assembled in small groups to
comment vociferously on this last and most dreadful event of the day,
all of a sudden Hungarian hussars galloped up and commanded the people,
in the most peremptory manner, to stand aside and to open a passage
for the wagons which were about to enter the market from one of the
adjoining streets.
The people, intimidated by the flashing swords and harsh words of the
soldiers, fell back and gazed with an expression of anxious suspense
upon the strange procession which now made its appearance.
This procession consisted of twelve wagons, apparently not destined to
receive living men, but the remains of the dead. The broad and heavy
wheels were not surmounted by ordinary carriage-boxes, but by immense
iron trunks, large enough to enclose a coffin or a corpse; and these
trunks were covered with heavy blankets, the four corners of which
contained the imperial crown of Austria in beautiful embroidery. Every
one of these strange wagons was drawn by six horses, mounted by jockeys
in the imperial livery, while the hussars of the emperor’s Hungarian
bodyguard rode in serried ranks on both sides.
The horses drew these mysterious wagons slowly and heavily through the
streets; the wheels rolled with a dull, thundering noise over the uneven
pavement; and this noise resounded in the ears and hearts of the
pale and terrified spectators like the premonitory signs of some new
thunderstorm.
What was concealed in these mysterious wagons? What was taken away from
Vienna in so careful a manner and guarded so closely? Everybody was
asking these questions, but only in the depth of his own heart, for
nobody dared to interrupt the painful and anxious silence by a loud
word or an inquisitive phrase. Every one seemed to be fascinated by the
forbidding glances of the hussars, and stunned by the dull rumbling of
the wheels.
But, when finally the last wagon had disappeared in the next street,
when the last horseman of the hussar escort had left the place, the eyes
of the anxious spectators turned once more toward the speakers who had
previously addressed them, and told them of the misfortunes of Austria,
and of the brilliant victories of the youthful French General Bonaparte.
“What do those wagons contain?” shouted the crowd. “We want to know it,
and we must know it!”
“If you must know it, why did you not ask the soldiers themselves?”
shouted a sneering voice in the crowd.
“Yes, yes,” said another voice, “why did you not approach the wagons and
knock at the trunks?--may be the devil would have jumped out and shown
you his pretty face!”
The people paid no attention to these sneering remarks. The painful
uncertainty, the anxious excitement continued unabated, and everybody
made surmises concerning the contents of the wagons.
“The trunks contain perhaps the coffins of the imperial ancestors, which
have been removed from the Kapuzinergruft, in order to save them from
the French,” said an honest tailor to his neighbor, and this romantic
idea rolled immediately, like an avalanche, through the vast crowd.
“They are removing the remains of the old emperors from Vienna!” wailed
the crowd. “Even the tombs are no longer safe! They are saving the
corpses of the emperors, but they are forsaking us--the living! They
abandon us to the tender mercies of the enemy! All who have not got the
money to escape are lost! The French will come and kill us all!”
“We will not permit it!” shouted a stentorian voice. “We want to keep
the remains of Maria Theresa and of the great Emperor Joseph here in
Vienna. As long as they lived they loved the people of the capital, and
they will protect us in death. Come, brethren, come; let us follow the
wagons--let us stop them and take the bodies back to the Kapuzinergruft
[Footnote: Vaults of the Capuchins]”.
“Yes, let us follow the wagons and stop them,” yelled the crowd, which
now, when it could no longer see the flashing and threatening weapons of
the soldiers, felt exceedingly brave.
Suddenly, however, these furious shouts and yells were interrupted by
a powerful voice which ordered the people to desist, and they beheld a
tall man who, with cat-like agility, climbed upon the iron lamp-post in
the centre of the square.
“Stop, stop!” roared this man, extending his arms over the crowd as
if, a new Moses, he wanted to allay the fury of the sea and cause it to
stand still.
The crowd instantly obeyed this tremendous voice, and all these
indignant, anxious, and terrified faces now turned toward the speaker
who stood above them on top of the lamp-post.
“Don’t make fools of yourselves,” said he--“don’t give these
Hungarians--who would be only too glad to quench their present rage in
German blood--a chance to break your bones. Have you any arms to compel
them to show you the wagons and their contents? And even if you were
armed, the soldiers would overpower you, for most of you would run away
as soon as a fight broke out, and the balance of you would be taken to
the calaboose. I will do you the favor, however, to tell you all about
those wagons. Do you want to know it?”
“Yes, yes, we do!” shouted the crowd, emphatically. “Be quiet over
there!--Stop your noise!--Do not cry so loud!--Hush!--Let us hear what
is in the wagons.--Silence, silence!”
Profound silence ensued--everybody held his breath and listened.
“Well, then, listen to me. These wagons do not contain the remains of
the former emperors, but the gold and the jewels of the present emperor.
It is the state treasure which those hussars are escorting from Vienna
to Presburg, because the government deems it no longer safe here. Just
think of what we have come to now-a-days! Our imperial family, and even
the state treasure, must flee from Vienna! And whose fault is it that we
have to suffer all this? Who has brought these French down upon us? Who
is inundating all Austria with war and its calamities? Shall I tell you
who is doing it?”
“Yes, tell us, tell us!” shouted the crowd. “Woe unto him who has
plunged Austria into war and distress, and caused the flight of the
emperor and the removal of the treasure from Vienna!”
The speaker waited until the angry waves of the people’s wrath had
subsided again, and then said in the clear, ringing tones of his
powerful voice: “It is the fault of our prime minister, Baron von
Thugut. He don’t want us to make peace with the French. He would rather
ruin us all than to make peace with the French Republic.”
“But we don’t want to be ruined!” shouted the crowd--“we don’t want to
be led to the shambles like sheep. No, no; we want peace--peace with
France. Prime Minister Thugut shall give us peace with France!”
“You had better go and inform the proud minister himself of what you
want,” said the speaker with a sneer. “First compel him to do what the
emperor and even our brave Archduke Charles wanted to be done--compel
the omnipotent minister to make peace.”
“We will go and ask him to give us peace,” said several voices in the
crowd.
“Yes, yes, we will do that!” shouted others. “Come, come; let us all go
to the minister’s house and ask him to give us back the emperor and the
state treasure, and to make peace with Bonaparte.”
The speaker now descended hurriedly from the lamp-post. His tall,
herculean figure, however, towered above the crowd even after his feet
had touched the pavement.
“Come,” said he to the bystanders in a loud and decided tone, “I will
take you to the minister’s house, for I know where he lives, and we will
shout and raise such a storm there until the proud gentleman condescends
to comply with our wishes.”
He led the way rapidly, and the crowd, always easily guided and pliable,
followed its improvised leader with loud acclamations. Only one idea,
only one wish, animated all these men: they wanted peace with France,
lest Bonaparte might come to Vienna and lay their beautiful capital in
ashes in the same manner in which he had treated so many Italian cities.
Their leader walked proudly at the head of the irregular procession;
and as the crowd continued to shout and yell, “Peace with France!” he
muttered, “I think I have accomplished a good deal to-day. The archduke
will be satisfied with what I have done, and we may compel the minister
after all to make peace with France.”