THE CONFERENCE.
Prince Louis Ferdinand, a nephew of Frederick the Great, and Minister
von Hardenberg, were at that time the most popular men in Prussia,
because they were known to be the leaders of the party which at the
court of Berlin considered the accession of Prussia to the coalition
of Russia, England, and Austria, as the only means to save the country,
while Minister von Haugwitz, Lombard, the first secretary of foreign
affairs, and General Kockeritz, constantly renewed their efforts to win
the king to an alliance with France.
Prince Ferdinand, a fine looking young man, scarcely thirty years
of age, in his brilliant uniform, in which his tall and noble form
presented a very imposing appearance, and in which he looked like the
incarnation of an heroic warrior, was consequently the special favorite
of the soldiers, who told the most astonishing and incredible stories
about his intrepidity and hardihood. He was, besides, the favorite of
the ladies, who called him the best-looking and most amiable man in
the whole monarchy; and, with amiable indulgence, attributed his many
adventures and acts of inconstancy, his wild and dissipated life, his
extravagance and numerous debts, to the genius of the prince. He was,
indeed, an extraordinary man, one of those on whose brow Providence
has imprinted the stamp of genius,--not to their own good, but to
their misfortune, and who either miserably perish by their genius, or
constantly inflict with it the most painful wounds upon others.
Minister von Hardenberg, who now, after a long struggle, had succeeded
in overcoming the influence of Minister von Haugwitz, and, with him,
that of the French party, was one of those rare and extraordinary
statesmen who have made diplomacy not a business, but the task of
their whole life, and who have devoted to it all the strength, all the
thoughts and feelings of their soul. A native of Hanover, and receiving
rapid promotion at the hands of the government of that country, he had,
nevertheless, soon entered the service of the Duke of Brunswick, who had
charged him, after the death of Frederick the Great, to take the king’s
will, which had been deposited in the ducal archives at Brunswick, to
Berlin. [Footnote: “Memoires d’un Homme d’Etat,” vol. i., p. 202.] King
Frederick William the Second, who was so sagacious as to perceive and
appreciate the diplomatic talents of the young ambassador, had induced
him to enter his service, and intrusted to him the difficult mission
of negotiating the annexation of Baireuth to Prussia, of settling the
claims of the margrave, of paying the crushing burden of the debts of
Baireuth as speedily as possible, and of restoring the country, which
had suffered so much, to its former prosperity and content. Afterward he
had been appointed minister of state and war in Prussia, and since that
time he had always displayed the greatest activity and zeal in serving
Prussia according to the dictates of his honest conviction, but at
the same time also to guard the interests of the great fatherland, the
interests of Germany. The influence of France, above all, seemed to
him to endanger these interests; hence he believed it to be specially
incumbent upon him to preserve at least Prussia from this noxious
influence and to push her over to the other side, to the side of the
coalition, than to allow her to be devoured, like a poor little bird, by
the French basilisk. These endeavors, which kept up a continual conflict
between him and the special favorites and confidants of the king,
Haugwitz and Kockeritz, had gained him the love and esteem of all
Prussian patriots, and secured him an extraordinary popularity. These
two favorites of the Prussian people now entered the queen’s cabinet.
Louisa replied to the familiar and friendly--rather than
respectful--greeting of the prince with a smile and a nod, and received
the respectful bow of the minister with the calm and proud dignity of a
queen.
“Well, my merry and reckless cousin,” she said, turning to the prince,
“are there again some sins to be confessed, some neglects of discipline
to be hushed up, some tears to be dried, and the mercy of the king to
be implored for the extravagant freaks of our genius? And is it for
that reason that you have brought along so eloquent an advocate and
attorney?”
“No, your majesty,” said the prince, heaving a sigh, “this time,
unfortunately, I have to confess to you no merry freaks and agreeable
sins, and I am afraid I am about to become a steady man, and to turn my
back on all extravagant pranks. Hence, the minister has not accompanied
me this time in order to defend me and to implore the gracious
intercession of my royal cousin, but we have come for the purpose of
repeating to your majesty Prussia’s cry of anguish and distress, and of
beseeching you to assist us in saving her from the ruin on the verge of
which she is tottering at the present time!”
The queen looked alternately at the prince and at the minister with
grave, wondering eyes. “It is a political conference, then, you wish to
hold with me?” she asked; and when the two gentlemen made no reply, she
continued more rapidly and in a slightly agitated voice--“in that case,
gentlemen, I must request you to leave me, for I am no politician, and I
do not aspire to the role of a political intriguer. I am the wife of the
reigning king, but not a reigning queen; my sole endeavor is to render
the king a happy husband at home, and to cause him to forget at my side
politics and the vexations of his official position.”
“I am afraid, your majesty,” said Minister von Hardenberg, solemnly--“I
am afraid the time for such an idol on the throne is past; and instead
of causing the king to forget the vexations of his position, it will now
be the great task of your majesty to bear them with him.”
“And we have come to beg my noble and magnanimous cousin to do so,”
exclaimed the prince, enthusiastically. “We have come to implore your
assistance and cooperation in the name of Prussia, in the name of all
German patriots, and in the name of your children!”
“In the name of my children?” ejaculated the queen, turning pale.
“Speak! speak! what has happened? what calamity threatens my children?
I decline listening to you as a queen, but I will do so as a mother, who
anxiously desires to secure the happiness of her children. What evils,
what calamities do you refer to?”
“The independence, nay, perhaps the whole existence of Prussia, is
menaced,” said Minister von Hardenberg, solemnly. “We have to choose
whether Prussia is to be an isolated state, shunned by everybody, and
despised by everybody--a state which France will be able to devour with
impunity and amid the jeers of the whole world, as she has devoured
Italy, Holland, and the left bank of the Rhine--or whether Prussia will
preserve her power, her independence, and her honor, by not staving off
a division any longer, but meeting her friends as well as her enemies
with open visor, and by assuming at length an active and resolute
attitude instead of the vacillating and hesitating course she has so
long pursued!”
“We ought to oppose the Emperor of France in a manly manner,” exclaimed
the prince, energetically. “If we do not interfere with his proceedings,
he will soon be our master as he is of all those who call themselves his
allies, and who are really nothing but his slaves. My heart kindles with
rage when I now see all Germany trembling with fear before this son of
a Corsican lawyer, this tyrant who assassinated the noble and innocent
Duke d’Enghien, and who, not contenting himself with chaining France,
would like to catch the whole world in his imperial mantle so as to
fatten its golden bees on it. And he will succeed in doing so, unless we
resist him, for his word is now already the law of half the world, and
this emperor carries out whatever he wants to do. Truly, if he should
feel some day a hankering for a dish of princes’ ears, I should no
longer deem my own ears safe, nor those of your young princes either!”
[Footnote: Prince Louis Ferdinand said this to the queen.--Vide “Rahel
and her Friends,” vol. i.]
The queen did not smile at this jest which the prince had uttered in an
angry voice, but she turned once more with a grave and anxious air to
the minister.
“Tell me, has any thing occurred?” she asked. “Has there been a change
in the political situation?”
“Yes, your majesty,” replied the minister, “there has been a change in
the political situation; the Emperor Napoleon has dared to violate our
neutrality, and if Prussia should not now demand satisfaction she either
loses her honor, or she places herself before the whole world as the
ally of France, and defies thereby the open hostility of Austria,
Russia, and England.”
“You dare to say that Prussia’s honor has been attacked, and to doubt
that the king will hold the offender responsible for such an outrage?”
exclaimed the queen, with flashing eyes. “The king, who is the
incarnation of honor, will not permit even the shadow of a stain to fall
on Prussia’s honor; in generous anger he will hurl back the insolent
hand that will dare to shake the palladium of our honor.”
“Oh, if you think and speak thus,” said the prince, enthusiastically, “I
have no longer any fears, but consider Prussia as saved already from the
dangers now menacing her. As I see your majesty now, in your wondrous
beauty, with those eyes reflecting your inward heaven, with this face so
radiant with enthusiasm, you seem to be the genius whom Providence has
sent to Prussia to guard and protect her, and to guide her on the
right path and to the right goal. O, queen! fulfil the mission which
Providence has intrusted to you; follow your noble and sacred vocation;
be the genius of Prussia; and impart to the vacillating and timid, firm,
manly courage and energetic resolution! Queen, I implore you, on my
knees, have pity on Prussia, have pity on your children: be the genius
of Prussia!”
And quite beside himself, his eyes filled with tears, his lips quivering
with emotion, the prince knelt down before the queen and raised his
folded hands imploringly to her.
“Your majesty, permit me also to bend my knees before you,” said
Minister von Hardenberg, solemnly, “to adore and worship you as the
genius of Prussia, from whom we expect our salvation, our peace, and
our honor! Oh, queen, you alone have the power to touch the heart of the
king and to remove the doubts of his noble and honorable mind; you
alone will be able to accomplish what neither our arguments nor our
supplications could bring about; you alone will be able to elevate
the vacillation of your husband to the strength of high-spirited and
courageous resolution!”
“No, not a word against the king!” exclaimed the queen, almost sternly.
“Let no one dare to assert that the king lacks manly determination and
vigorous courage. If he is hesitating when you would wish to act, it
is because he looks into the future more prudently and sagaciously than
you, while you only think of the present time; it is because he weighs
and calculates the consequences, while you only care for the action of
the moment. But arise, gentlemen: let us not perform a sentimental scene
at a time when it is of the highest importance to be prudent and to
reflect. Let us converse, therefore, gravely and soberly; explain to me
what has happened, and what danger is menacing Prussia and my children.
I comply now with your wish; let us hold a political conference. Let us
sit down, then, and commence.”
She took a seat on the sofa, and invited the gentlemen to sit down on
the two chairs opposite her.
“Now tell me what has occurred, and what has changed the political
situation. Minister von Hardenberg, pray give me a full and plain
account of the state of our political affairs, for I have already told
you that I never meddle with politics, and do not know much about
them; indeed I have been too happy, and my life too much absorbed by my
happiness, to have made it necessary for me to think of politics. But
I see very well that the time of quiet happiness is over now! Let us,
then, speak of politics. You said, a few minutes ago, Prussia had been
insulted by France?”
“Yes, your majesty, Prussia has been insulted. Her most sacred right,
her neutrality, has been violated,” replied Hardenberg. “The king, in
his generous endeavor to preserve the blessings of peace to his people,
intended to maintain a strict neutrality amid all these wars and storms
agitating the world, and the friend and ally of no party and no power,
to rely exclusively on his own strength. He wanted to wait, to mediate,
and conciliate, but not to attack, act, and decide. There may be times
when such a role is a weighty and dignified one--may secure the peace of
the world; but it always depends on those between whom one wishes to
act as a neutral mediator. One may remain neutral between men of honor,
between princes, to whom their word is sacred, and who do not dare to
violate treaties, but not between those to whom their word is sacred
only so long as their own advantage requires it, and who do not violate
treaties only so long as they do not interfere with their selfish plans.
It is a principle of neutrality not to open one’s territory to either
of the contending powers, and this principle has always been strictly
observed. When Russia, now that she is going to send her troops for
the second time to Germany for the purpose of assisting the Austrians,
informed the king that she would march these troops through Southern
Prussia and Silesia, the king deemed this information equivalent to a
declaration of war, and his majesty immediately ordered the whole army
to be placed on the war footing. We should now be at war with Russia, if
the Emperor Alexander had not sent on the day after the first dispatch
had arrived here, another dispatch to the king, in which he apologized,
and declared that he had been too rash in making the above-named demand.
[Footnote: Vide Hausser’s “History of Germany,” vol. 11., p. 635.
“Memoires d’un Homme d’Etat,” vol. viii., p. 474.] But this step of
Russia, this mere threat of violation of our neutrality, had sufficed
to induce Prussia to place her army on the war footing, and to do so
AGAINST the coalition of Austria, Russia, and England. A cry of horror
resounded throughout Germany when the people heard of this first step
by which Prussia seemed to declare publicly FOR France and AGAINST the
coalition, and this cry was reechoed abroad, of which the conduct of the
King of Sweden gave us a striking proof. Your majesty is aware that this
king, through his ambassador, M. de Bernstorf, returned to his majesty
the King of Prussia the order of the Black Eagle which he had received
from the late lamented king, accompanying it by an insulting letter in
which he stated, that ‘he could not wear an order which the king had
recently also sent to Monsieur Bonaparte.’”
“And on the same day that this offensive return of the highest Prussian
order took place,” exclaimed Prince Louis Ferdinand, with a harsh, angry
laugh, “on the same day the King of Prussia received from the Emperor of
France the grand cordon and seven other grand crosses of the Legion of
Honor to be distributed among the princes and ministers. And not only
did we receive these seven orders, but in return for them we sent seven
orders of the Black Eagle to Paris.” [Footnote: Hausser’s “History of
Germany,” vol. ii., p. 76.]
“But you forget to add that the king returned on the same day the
Scraphine order to the King of Sweden, and recalled his ambassador, so
that we are now in a state of war with Sweden,” said the queen, eagerly.
“Oh, my royal cousin, you betray your secrets,” exclaimed the prince,
joyfully, “you wanted us to believe that your majesty did not care
at all for politics, and now you know the most minute details so
accurately.”
“I take a lively interest in every occurrence which grieves the heart
of my husband,” said the queen; “and that event made a very painful
impression upon him.”
“Oh, your majesty, it was only a prelude to other mortifications and
insults which we shall have to suffer if the king will not avenge them,”
said Hardenberg, energetically. “It has been said that Prussia was
siding with France merely because she would not grant Russia a passage
through her neutral territory, and because she placed her army in a
menacing position against Russia. But what would the world say if it
should learn what has now occurred?”
“Well, what has occurred?” asked the queen, breathlessly.
“The Emperor of France has carried out what Russia only threatened to
do. The Emperor of France, without applying for permission, has marched
a portion of his army, commanded by Bernadotte, through Prussian
territory. He has marched his troops, contrary to treaties and to
international law, through Prussian Franconia, Anspach, and Baireuth.”
The queen uttered a cry of surprise, and her cheeks turned pale. “Does
the king already know it?” she asked.
“He has known it since yesterday,” said Hardenberg, gravely. “We kept
the matter secret, because we would only lay it before the public
together with the decision of his majesty.”
“And has the king come already to a decision?” asked the queen.
“He has, your majesty,” said Hardenberg, solemnly. “When Russia
threatened to violate our territory, we placed our army on the war
footing, and it is still in arms. Now that France dares to do what
Russia only threatened to do, we do not turn our arms against her in
order to avenge the insult, but we take our pen and write and ask France
to explain her startling proceedings. It is true we threaten, but do not
strike!”
“No, we do not strike!” exclaimed the prince, laughing scornfully; “we
mobilize our army against our natural friends and allies, but we do not
draw the sword against our natural enemies and adversaries. The army of
Frederick the Great is ready for war, and yet it remains idle and looks
on quietly while the insatiable conqueror is penetrating farther and
farther into the heart of Germany; while he is scattering broadcast the
seeds of treachery, discord, and mischief; while he is persuading the
German princes to turn traitors to Germany; while he is poisoning and
corrupting the hearts of the people and degrading their characters to
such an extent, that the sense of fidelity, honesty, and constancy will
soon become extinct in Germany, and all the Germans will be nothing but
a horde of slaves, who will be happy if this tyrant does not apply the
lash too often to their backs, and who will kiss his feet, so that he
may step at least mildly and gently on their necks! If the tyrant should
succeed now in humiliating Austria, who alone has been courageous enough
to oppose him; if Napoleon should defeat the Austrian army, Germany
would be lost and become nothing but a French province like Italy and
Holland: all the German princes would lay their crowns at the feet of
Napoleon, and be glad if he should suffer them only as governors in
their former states, or leave them at least their empty titles after
depriving them of their possessions!”
“No, no,” exclaimed the queen, “we must not, we shall not permit that!
Prussia is ready to maintain the honor of Germany; Prussia will rise
like a hero accustomed to victory; she will drive the invader from her
territory, and compel him, with arms in her hands, to keep the peace,
if she is unable to obtain it with her pen. You are right, the time of
neutrality and hesitation is past, and henceforth we must act. I shall
no longer remain neutral, I shall act too. You have appealed to the
mother and wife and shown her the danger threatening her children and
her husband; you have reminded the daughter of Germany of the horrors
menacing her fatherland; you have pointed out to the Queen of Prussia
the evils impending over her people; the mother, the wife, and the queen
has heard and understood you. The time of neutrality is past; we must
move the heart of the best and most magnanimous king by our prayers and
remonstrances, in order that he may listen to us, and no longer to the
insinuations and flatteries of his enemies, so that he may discern his
friends as well as his enemies. The king is hesitating only because, in
generous self-abnegation, he prefers the happiness of his people to his
own wishes and to the gratification of his own desires. A soldier by
nature and predilection, he compels himself to be a peaceable ruler,
because he believes it is necessary for the happiness of his people.
Let us prove to him that his subjects refuse to accept this generous
sacrifice, and that they are joyfully ready to remove the stains from
their honor with their heart’s blood. Let public opinion speak out and
come to our assistance. I say, ‘to OUR assistance,’ for henceforth I
shall side with you, I shall be a member of your party, and a determined
and outspoken enemy of France!”
“May God bless your majesty for these words!” said Hardenberg, deeply
moved; “I am once again in hopes that Prussia will be saved, for she
has now won an ally who brings more to her than armies and arms, and who
places the enthusiasm and indomitable determination of a great chieftain
at the head of our people.”
“And with this chieftain at our head we shall vanquish every French
army,” exclaimed Prince Louis, enthusiastically, “with this chieftain
at our head we shall triumphantly march against the enemy, and one
idea, one sentiment will animate all of us: Queen Louisa is watching
and praying for us! Oh, my queen, would that that blessed day of battle
could dawn for us! Command the sun of that day to rise and to shine into
all Prussian hearts, and to fire them with patriotism so as to shrink
back no longer from death and wounds, but only from dishonor and
degradation! Oh, my blood burns like fire in my veins; it would like
to burst forth in a fiery torrent and drown and burn every Frenchman.
Queen, have mercy on me--let the solemn day when I may shed my blood for
the fatherland dawn without delay!”
“Live and labor for the fatherland!” said the queen, with flaming eyes,
and her face radiant with enthusiasm. “It is not the most exalted and
difficult task to die an heroic death for a great idea, but it is even
more noble and difficult to nourish and preserve this idea in the gloomy
days of adversity, and not to abandon it and give it up in a period of
affliction, but to remain its guardian and priest, even though fate may
seem to reject it and to humiliate us with it. Now that I am entering
a new life-path, I say to you, from the bottom of my heart, we will
struggle for the honor, liberty, and independence of Prussia and
Germany, but we will be determined, too, not only to die for these
ideas, but also to suffer and bear affliction for them. Oh, it seems
to me as though I were looking at this moment into the future, and as
though I did see there much misery and distress in store for us, many
storms and thunder-clouds!”
“But the sun is hidden behind the thunder-clouds, and when the thunder
has died away it will shine again,” said Hardenberg.
“And it will then shine on the heads of my husband and of my children!”
exclaimed the queen, raising her radiant eyes to heaven. “Above all, it
will shine on the Prussian people from the face of their adored Queen
Louisa,” said the prince.
The queen smiled sadly. “Let us not speak of the sun, but of the
thunder-clouds preceding it. They are gathering around us; let us see
how we can break through them. You may count on my earnest assistance.
My husband and my children are in danger, I feel and see it. France is
the enemy menacing them. Henceforward we will oppose this enemy with
open visor. I promise it to you in the name of Prussia, in the name of
my husband, and of my children. Here, take my hand; we will stand by
each other, and struggle together against France for the honor and glory
of Prussia. You will fight with your sword and with your pen, and I
shall do so with my word and my love. May the people support us, may God
bless us!”
“May God bless us!” repeated the prince and the minister, reverentially
kissing the queen’s hands.
“And now, gentlemen, go,” said the queen, after a short pause “Let us
not desecrate this solemn moment by any additional words. Every thing
for Prussia! Let that be our watchword! and so I bid you farewell for
to-day. Every thing for Prussia!”
“Every thing for Prussia!” repeated the two gentlemen, taking leave of
the queen.
Louisa sent a long, melancholy look after them; then she turned hastily
around and crossed the room with rapid steps; the sudden draught
produced by her quick passage blew the music-paper from the piano to the
floor; it fell exactly at the queen’s feet.
She picked it up; it was the song she had sung an hour ago. A painful
smile played on the lips of the queen, and raising her eyes sadly to
heaven, she whispered, in a low voice:
“Oh, my God, grant that this may not be an omen, and that I may not
be compelled to eat my bread with tears, and to weep through nights
of affliction! But if it must be, O God, give me strength to bear my
misfortunes uncomplainingly, and to be a comfort to my husband, a mother
to my children!”