THE PRINCESS VON HATZFELD.
Grand-Marshal Duroc was pacing his room in great agitation. Evening was
drawing nigh, and still he had not received any intelligence from the
Princess von Hatzfeld. Yet her husband had been arrested in the course
of the forenoon and taken to the palace, in one of the rooms of which he
was locked up and kept under strict surveillance. The news of his arrest
had spread rapidly through Berlin, and cast a gloom over the whole city.
Everywhere in the streets groups of pale and grave men were to be seen,
who whispered to each other this latest dreadful event, and vented their
anger in secret imprecations.
All were convinced that the Prince von Hatzfeld must die; every one felt
it to be a new humiliation inflicted upon himself personally, that one
of the most respected and distinguished men in Prussia was to be charged
with felony, and tried as a common spy. No one doubted that the
court-martial would pass sentence of death upon him; and that Napoleon
would show no mercy, nor feel any compassion, could be read in his stern
and melancholy air when, followed by his suite, he rode through the
streets to Charlottenburg.
All the reproaches heretofore uttered against the Prince von Hatzfeld
were forgotten; the people forgave his weakness, his cowardice, his
predilection for France. At this hour, when he was menaced by the
universal enemy and oppressor they only remembered that he was a German,
and that the anger of the conqueror ought to make him a martyr of the
German cause. They whispered to each other that Napoleon had selected
the prince merely for the purpose of intimidating the opposition by an
example of severity, and of frightening the royalists. "He is lost!"
they said, mournfully. "The emperor will not pardon him, for he intends
to punish in the prince's person ourselves, who love the king and would
like to send him information concerning the enemy and his armies."
"The Prince von Hatzfeld is lost!" said Duroc, also, as he was uneasily
and sadly pacing his room. "Yes! This time Talleyrand, in spite of all
his sagacity, has been mistaken. The emperor does not intend to pardon
the prince, for he has selected Davoust, Rapp, and Clarke as members of
the court-martial, and they have no mercy on those whom their master has
accused. The princess does not think of coming to me and of invoking my
intercession. And even if she did, I should not be able to assist her.
All my supplications would be in vain. The emperor has resolved on the
prince's death from policy, not in auger; hence nothing can save him."
Just then the door opened, and the footman hastily entered. "Grand
marshal," he said, "there is a veiled lady outside, who insists on
seeing you. I have vainly requested her to give me her name; she will
only mention it to your excellency, and--"
Duroc did not longer listen to him. He himself hastened into the
anteroom, and, offering his arm to the lady, conducted her into his
cabinet.
"Go down-stairs, Jean," he hurriedly said to his footman,"--down-stairs,
hasten into the Palace Place, and when you see the emperor approaching
in the distance, return and inform me of it."
Jean slipped out of the door, and Duroc locked it after him. "Well,
madame," he then said, "speak! We are alone."
The lady hastily removed the veil from her face, and showed her
beautiful, pale features bathed in tears.
"The Princess von Hatzfeld!" exclaimed Duroc, successfully feigning an
air of great surprise.
"Yes, it is I," she said, breathlessly and with quivering lips. "I come
to beseech you to assist me! You must do so--you must not desert me! My
husband has been arrested! He is charged with having secretly informed
the king of the operations of the French army. He is accused of being a
spy. Oh, merciful Heaven! he will die, for the emperor is bent on having
him executed; he desires to crush and ruin us all! Do you understand it
is my husband?--he whom others charged with being a traitor to his
country, because, in his generous exertions to avoid bloodshed, he
always admonished the inhabitants to be patient and submissive--he is
charged now with having betrayed the emperor, and is to be executed as a
spy! They have dragged him from my side and taken him away. I fainted
with grief and despair. Oh, I hoped--wished it were death that
prostrated me! But God would not let me die; He preserved my life, that
I might try to save my husband. The physician advised me to remain, and
endeavor to take rest. Duroc, how can I take rest while the life of my
beloved husband is in danger? I rose from my couch, for the thought
flashed through my mind, 'Duroc will assist me in saving him!' And now I
am here, and beseech you, have mercy on a wife's despair! Duroc, help
me, so that I may save the prince! You have a kind and generous heart,
and the emperor loves you! Implore him to have mercy on my husband! By
all that is dear to you, I beseech you, beg for him!" And quite beside
herself, pale and in tears, the young princess was about to kneel down
before Duroc, but he quickly raised her up, and, bowing deeply, kissed
her cold, trembling hands.
"I thank you, princess, for having thought of and believed in me," he
said. "But I am afraid that your faith will be in vain."
"Pray for my husband," she said sobbing. "You see, I shall die if I
lose him. Have pity on my youth, and on my unborn child! Implore the
emperor to have mercy on the prince!"
"You believe the emperor would listen to me?" asked Duroc, sadly. "Then
you do not know him; you do not know what he is when he is angry. I have
been in more than twenty battles; bullets have hissed all around me;
death was at my side, and I did not tremble, but I tremble when the
emperor is angry. When I behold his marble face--his flashing eyes--when
his voice resounds like the roll of thunder, I comprehend how women
faint and flee. I myself feel then what I never felt in the
battle-field--I feel fear!"
"Then you will not assist me!" exclaimed the princess, wringing her
hands. "You will not do any thing for him? And yet he is innocent. My
noble husband never committed the crime with which he is charged. He is
no spy--no traitor--and yet he is to die! I have no friend, and the only
man who I had hoped would aid me desert? me, because he is afraid of his
master's frown!"
"No," said Duroc, "I do not desert you, I only tell you what the emperor
is in his wrath; I only tell you that the tempestuous ocean is pleasant,
and the thunder mild, compared with him in such a mood. However, I would
gladly expose myself to it if I could be useful to you and to your
husband. But it is a vain hope. The emperor would not listen to me; he
would interrupt me, and order me to be silent. My intercession would
irritate him even more, and, instead of delaying the terrible
catastrophe, I should be likely to accelerate it."
"Well," exclaimed the princess, wringing her hands, "if you yourself
dare not speak and beg for him, let _me_. I am not afraid of the
emperor's anger, and when a woman clasps his knees and implores his
mercy, he will at least listen, and his heart may be softened. I beseech
you to grant me this favor--conduct me to the emperor! Let me implore
him to pardon my husband!"
"You are right, it is perhaps the only way to save his life. Napoleon
has a generous heart; your tears, perhaps, will touch him, for he cannot
bear the sight of a weeping woman, and genuine grief always moves his
heart. But just because he is conscious of his weakness, he will avoid
seeing you, and give stringent orders not to admit any one. You must, at
present forget your rank. You must not insist that the footmen announce
you, and open the folding-doors, but you must make up your mind to
appear, without any regard to etiquette, before the emperor, and oblige
him to grant you an audience."
"Do you not see that I am nothing but a poor, unhappy woman, begging for
mercy?" said the princess, with a melancholy smile. "Would I have come
to you if I thought still of the rules of etiquette? Give me an
opportunity to see the emperor, and, though it were in the open street,
and thousands standing by, I should kneel down before him, and, like a
beggar-woman, ask for the alms of his mercy--for my husband's life is in
his hands!"
"Well, if such be your feelings, princess, I hope to be able to procure
you access to him. We must act as generals do in the field, and try to
outwit the enemy--we must deprive the emperor of the possibility of
avoiding an audience. After his return from Charlottenburg and when once
in his rooms, all will be in vain; he will admit no one, and close his
ears against all supplications of mine. Hence you must meet him at the
moment when he enters the palace. You must--"
A rapid knock at the door interrupted him, and Duroc hastened to open
it. "Is it you, Jean?" he asked.
"Yes, M. Grand marshal, it is I," said the footman, "I come to inform
your excellency that the emperor is just riding up the Linden with his
suite. He will be here in a few minutes."
"All right. Go now, Jean."
"Let us go, too," said the princess, quickly approaching the door. "Give
me your arm, M. Grand marshal; I am trembling so, I might sink down
before appearing in the presence of the emperor!"
"Come, princess," said Duroc, compassionately, "lean firmly on me.
Heaven will give you strength, for you have a noble and fearless heart.
Come! I will conduct you to the foot of the staircase, which the emperor
will have to ascend in order to reach his rooms. You may accost him
there. God and love will impart strength to your words!"
With rapid steps they crossed the suite of rooms and stepped into the
so-called Swiss hall, where the orderlies and soldiers of the guard on
duty that day were assembled. The bearded warriors looked surprised at
the grand marshal--whose face was graver than they had ever seen it in
battle--and at this lady, hanging on his arm, as beautiful and pale as a
lily. Duroc, who generally had a smile and a pleasant word for the
soldiers of the guard, the faithful companions of so many battles, took
no notice of them. He hastened with the princess through the hall into
the corridor, and down the broad winding stairs opening immediately into
the second court-yard of the palace. He then conducted her across
through the inside portal to the splendidly-carpeted principal staircase
in the rear of the vestibule.
"Await the emperor here," said Duroc, drawing a deep breath. "He will go
up this staircase, and he cannot, therefore, avoid meeting you. But he
has a sharp eye, and if he should see you from afar, he might, divining
your intention, turn around and go the other way. Ascend as far as the
first landing. The emperor cannot see you there before he mounts the
first steps, and then he will not turn hack."
The princess hastily ascended the steps, which she had so often done
with a joyous heart, and in a brilliant toilet, when repairing to the
festivals of the royal court. Duroc followed her, and told the sentinel
posted at the staircase and presenting arms to the grand marshal, that
the lady had received orders to wait there for the emperor, who--
Just then the drums rolled, and the guard in the court-yard was called
out.
"The emperor!" whispered the princess, sinking down on her knees,
clasping her hands and praying silently.
"The emperor!" said Duroc, hastening down-stairs into the second
court-yard.
Napoleon rode in at that moment, and Duroc, glancing uneasily at him,
saw that his mien was even gloomier than previous to his ride; he saw
that flashes of anger darted from his eyes, ready to wither the first
being that should come near them. On riding up the Linden to-day, he had
again missed the wonted music of "_Vive l'Empereur_!" and noticed that
the people, standing here and there in groups in the street, when he
passed them, had frowned instead of greeting him with the usual cheers.
This want of respect, this visible defiance had darkened his countenance
and embittered his soul. Just as he alighted from his horse, and threw
the bridle to Koustan, the Mameluke, the grand marshal, pale, panting,
and in visible emotion, stepped up to him. Napoleon noticed it, and his
angry glance intimidated Duroc.
"You want to inform me that Berlin is seditious?" he asked, in a stern,
hard voice. "I am not astonished at it. This city seems to be inclined
to such movements. But I am about to set it a terrible example; I will
show Berlin in what manner I punish rebels, and will cure its seditious
tendency." Striking his boots with his riding-whip, as was his habit
when out of humor, he crossed the court-yard in the direction of the
staircase.
"No, sire," said Duroc. "Berlin is not seditious. I only intended to
implore your majesty's noble and generous heart to grant me a favor."
The emperor looked at him with some surprise, and, advancing rapidly, he
set foot on the first step of the staircase, his eyes directed to the
grand marshal. "Well, what is it?" he asked, ascending the second step,
and turning to Duroc, who was walking behind him.
"Sire, have mercy on the unhappy Princess von Hatzfeld! I beseech your
majesty to grant her an audience."
"No, no," exclaimed the emperor, "do not say a word about that! I do not
wish to see her, I--But what is this?" he interrupted himself, for he
had now reached the first landing, and beheld the princess. She had
knelt down, and, stretching out her clasped hands, fixed her large azure
eyes on him with a most heart-rending, suppliant air.
Napoleon's brow grew darker than before, and with an angry air he asked,
"What does this mean, M. Grand marshal? Who is this lady?"
"Sire, it is the Princess von Hatzfeld," replied Duroc, in a low voice.
"She implored me to procure her an interview with your majesty. Sire,
pardon me for having conducted her hither, that she herself might beg
your majesty for this audience. I counted on your generous heart, which
will forgive the wife who conies to implore your mercy for her husband."
"Have you not been told that I have expressly forbidden this affair to
be mentioned to me?" exclaimed the emperor, in a threatening voice. "The
court-martial alone has to judge the prince and I will and must not
influence its verdict."
"Oh, sire," exclaimed the princess who was still on her knees, "have
mercy on me!--have mercy on my unhappy husband!" Tears choked her voice,
and ran in torrents over her pale face.
Napoleon seemed to be moved by this piteous spectacle; his eye became
milder, and his frown disappeared. "Madame," he said, bending over her,
"rise. A lady in your circumstances ought to kneel before God only. In
consideration of your condition, I grant you an interview. Grand
marshal, follow me, with the princess." He quickly ascended the
staircase, and, without looking round, walked across the halls and rooms
to his cabinet. Breathless, scarcely touching the floor with her feet,
and strengthened by her profound emotion, the princess walked behind him
by the side of Duroc.
"The emperor now enters his cabinet," whispered Duroc. "You have reached
your destination."
"My God, have mercy on me!" sighed the princess, and raised her eyes
imploringly to heaven. She was now in the cabinet, and Duroc withdrew to
the door. Napoleon stood in the middle of the room; the brightly-burning
fire shed a light over his whole figure, and rendered prominent his
stern features.
"Sire," exclaimed the princess, falling on her knees, "I beseech you
have mercy on my husband! Mercy, sire, mercy!"
"Mercy!" ejaculated Napoleon, harshly. "Do you know the crime of which
your husband stands accused?"
"Sire, I know only that he worships your majesty; I therefore do not
believe in his guilt," exclaimed the princess.
"He has acted the part of a miserable spy," added Napoleon, raising his
voice. "After he had already sworn to me the oath of obedience and
fealty, he mailed a letter to the King of Prussia, in which he reported
to him the number, the spirit, and movements of the French troops. That
is the act of a traitor and a spy, and as such he will be found guilty
by the court-martial to-morrow."
"Sire, it is impossible! My husband cannot have done any thing
of the kind. Oh, believe me, your majesty, he is innocent! He
has been slandered in order to bring about his ruin; but he is
innocent--assuredly he is innocent! He never wrote such a letter; he
cannot have written it!" The emperor quickly walked to his desk, and
took from it a paper, which he handed to her. "Here is the letter," he
said. "Do you know your husband's handwriting?"
The princess fixed her eyes, dimmed by tears, on the paper she held in
her trembling hands. She then uttered a cry, so piercing and
heart-rending, that Duroc, who was standing at the door, felt the tears
starting into his eyes. Napoleon himself could not help shuddering.
"It is his handwriting!" muttered the princess, dropping the paper upon
the floor. Her quivering lips had now no longer the strength and courage
to repeat her prayer--her head fell on her breast, and she uttered only
low groans and sobbed.
The emperor seemed to be touched by her wordless yet eloquent grief. His
manner, which had hitherto been stern, became gentle and kind, and he
looked down with an expression of compassion on that kneeling,
despairing form. He stooped, picked up the letter, and placed it in the
hands of the princess. "Madame," he said, "here is the letter. Do with
it what you please. For this letter is the only thing proving his
guilt."
The princess looked up to him with a joyous, surprised glance. The
emperor smiled, and pointed silently to the fire-place. She rose hastily
from her knees, rushed toward the fire, and threw the paper into it.
"It is burning! It is burning!" she joyfully shouted. "My husband is
saved! My husband is free!" and uttering a scream, she tottered back,
and fell in a swoon at the emperor's feet.
Duroc rushed to her aid, and, raising her in his arms, was about to
carry her out of the room; but the emperor himself rolled an easy-chair
toward her, and assisted Duroc in placing her on it.
"Now, call Roustan," said Napoleon, "he will help you to remove the
fainting lady. But quick, lest she awake and thank me! Conduct her to
her husband, who is here at the palace. Let her personally announce to
him that he is free, and tell him that he is indebted for his release
solely to her intercession. Make haste!"
Roustan entered as soon as Duroc called him, and both of them carried
the princess on the easy-chair out of the room. The emperor gazed
musingly after them, and a sarcastic smile played on his lips. "Well,"
he said to himself, "I believe this scene will be an excellent match to
the oath at the grave of Frederick the Great. It will form a glorious
subject for an engraving--one that will be more honorable to me than was
the oath to the beautiful queen. Artists will be delighted to publish
such an engraving, and the good city of Berlin will say that I am a
great man, and know how to forgive injuries."
Just then Talleyrand, who had the right to enter the emperor's cabinet
at any time, without being announced, appeared on the threshold.
"Ah, Talleyrand," exclaimed Napoleon, "if you had come a little earlier,
you would have witnessed a very touching scene. The Princess von
Hatzfeld was here."
"I know it, sire. I have just met the poor fainting lady in the
anteroom, and Duroc described to me in a few words what had taken place.
How lucky it was that there was a fire in the room!"
The emperor bent a piercing glance upon Talleyrand, but the minister's
face was perfectly calm and impenetrable. Not the slightest approach to
a sneer was visible in it.
"This proof of generosity will win the hearts of all to your majesty,"
added Talleyrand. "People will forget Palm; they will only think of
Hatzfeld, and praise you as a modern Cæsar. When the letters his enemies
had written to Pompey were shown to Cæsar, he refused to read them, and
threw them into the fire (there is always a fire burning in the right
place and at the right moment), saying, 'Although I am sure to master my
anger, yet it is safer to destroy its cause.' Your majesty has followed
Cæsar's example, and, if you have no objection, sire, I shall induce
Professor Lange to give an enthusiastic and eloquent account of this
sublime scene to the inhabitants of Berlin."
"Then you have already gained him over to our side?" asked Napoleon.
"The ardent champion of the queen has been converted?"
"He has, sire, thanks to his fear of death, and to the five thousand
francs which I offered him, and which had the same effect upon him as a
basilisk's eye on the bird. These German journalists, it seems, are even
more needy than ours, for they can be had for less."
"Five thousand francs," said Napoleon, musingly, "and for that sum he
sells his honor, his fealty, and his conscience! Ah, what miserable
creatures men are, after all, and how right are those who despise them!"
"Sire, will you permit me to enter and make my report?" asked Duroc,
looking in at the door.
"Come in, grand marshal. And now tell me, how is the poor princess? Has
she recovered from her swoon?"
"Yes, sire, she was still unconscious when we carried her into her
husband's room. He uttered a loud cry, rushed to her, and clasped her in
his arms. She was awakened by his kisses and his anxious and tender
ejaculations. A torrent of tears burst forth, and, encircling his neck
with her arms, she exclaimed, 'You are saved! You are mine again! the
emperor has had mercy on me!'"
"Poor woman! She was really in despair, but behaved very nobly and with
a great deal of tact, and I am pleased with her."
Talleyrand scarcely smiled, as he muttered to himself:
"Yes, the emperor is right in being pleased with her, for the poor
little lady really took the sentimental farce for a tragedy, and neither
she nor Duroc looked behind the scenes."[21]
[Footnote 21: This occurrence is strictly historical, but it is
commented upon by the French and German historians in a widely different
sense. The French historians, without exception, treat it as a touching
proof of the emperor's generosity. So does Thiers in his "Histoire du
Consulat et de l'Empire," vol. vii., p. 148; and the Duchess d'Abrantes,
in her "Mémoires," vol. xi., p. 340; as well as Constant, in his
"Mémoires," vol. iii., p. 380. But the German historians treat it as a
well-calculated intrigue, in order to intimidate the nobility by an act
of severity, and to conciliate them by the subsequent generosity
displayed by the emperor.--Vide "Mémoires d'un Homme d'État," vol. ix.,
p. 316; Schlosser's "History of the Nineteenth Century," vol. vi., p.
232; Haeusser's "History of Germany," vol iii., p. 42. The view taken by
the German historians is supported by the letter of the Prince von
Hatzfeld, which formed the sole basis of the charges preferred against
him, and which the French take care not to lay before their readers. The
incriminated passage was as follows: "Officially I know nothing of the
French army, but that I saw yesterday a requisition upon the
municipality of Potsdam, signed by D'Aultanne. The French say their army
is eighty thousand strong. Others state the number at only fifty
thousand. The horses of the cavalry are said to be greatly exhausted."]