by L. Mühlbach
CHAPTER XXV.
COUNTESS MARY WALEWSKA.
News of the highest importance reached Castle Finkenstein, whereNapoleon had been residing since the battle of Eylau. Dantzic hadfallen. It had been compelled to surrender, with its immense _materiel_and supplies. In vain had been the heroic defence of the garrison, theenergy of General Kalkreuth, commander of the fortress, the ardor andcourage of the soldiers, the unflagging self-abnegation of the citizens;in vain, the bloodshed, the mutilated limbs, the destruction ofproperty! Lefebvre, the French general, had drawn the circle of hisbesieging forces closer around the devoted city, and fresh troops pouredinto his ranks, while every day the garrison was becoming weaker. Onlythe most vigorous succor could have saved Dantzic. General Kalkreuth hadlong hoped for it. England, now the ally of Russia and Prussia, hadpromised aid, and equipped a sloop-of-war of twenty-two guns, to forcethe blockade, convey ammunition into the city, and destroy thepontoon-bridge of the French; but the sloop stranded, and had tosurrender. The Russians, too, had promised assistance to the city. Seventhousand embarked at Pillau, and landed at Weichselmuende; but there theywere attacked by Oudinot, who captured nearly one-half, and dispersedthe rest.
The last hopes of Dantzic were gone; there was no relief. Lefebvreordered a bombardment, and then sent a flag of truce to GeneralKalkreuth, informing him that he would take the city by assault if thefortress did not surrender. General Kalkreuth gazed mournfully at thestranded British sloop-of-war, and, pointing it out to his officers, whosurrounded him in gloomy silence, said, "That is the tombstone ofDantzic!" He then sent for the bearer of the flag of truce, and thenegotiations commenced. In the mean time, shells and red-hot shot werepoured into the city, killing alike the soldiers on the ramparts and thecitizens in their dwellings. Lamentations and shrieks, the roar ofartillery, the uninterrupted peals of the tocsin, calling out theinhabitants, mingled with the crash of the falling houses, and the wailsof the wounded and dying.
General Kalkreuth pitied the city; he was unwilling to add the horrorsof an assault to the agony it had already undergone. He signed thecapitulation, but claimed for the garrison liberty to march out withoutbeing made prisoners of war, and the surrender of their arms. Lefebvregranted these conditions, but insisted that the Prussian troops shouldnot engage to serve against France before the expiration of a year.General Kalkreuth accepted this clause, and the gates of Dantzic openedto the French conqueror on the 24th of May, 1807.
The Emperor Napoleon received the news of this great victory at CastleFinkenstein, not far from Tilsit. His face brightened, and heimmediately sent a courier to Marshal Lefebvre, to invite him to pay hima visit at the castle. But the joy of the emperor soon disappeared. Hisgenerals, intimate friends, and servants, endeavored to cheer him. Theytried all the arts of eloquence and flattery to dispel his sadness.Talleyrand attempted to amuse him by reciting, with charming _medisance_and pointed humor, passages from the rich stores of his memoirs, and byrelating, with Attic wit, the story of his first love, which hadbequeathed to him a lame foot as a remembrancer. Lannes, with the blunthumor of a true soldier, told stories of his campaigns. Duroc smilinglyreminded the emperor of many an adventure they had had in Paris, when,in plain gray coats, and hats drawn over their eyes, they had wanderedthrough the streets of the capital, to ascertain the disposition of thepeople, and received many a rebuke on daring to abuse Napoleon. It istrue, the emperor was amused on hearing such anecdotes, but hismomentary laughter revealed more vividly his dark and stormy temper.
To-day the generals resorted to another method also of amusing him. Theyproposed cards. He agreed, and they commenced a game of _vingt-et-un_.Formerly, the emperor, on playing, had always been in excellent spirits,and did not disdain even to cheat a little, frequently concealing a cardor two. But now he played gravely and honestly, and the consequence wasthat he lost. Throwing the cards indignantly aside, and greeting themarshals with a silent nod, he crossed the room with hasty steps, andretired to his cabinet.
"He has not yet forgotten the affair of Eylau," grumbled Marshal Lannes."It is true, we boasted of our victory there, and ordered a _Te Deum_ tobe sung, but he knows very well how things stood, and feels badlybecause the Emperor of Russia also had a _Te Deum_ sung."
"I do not believe, Marshal, that that is the cause of the emperor'sgrief," said Talleyrand, shrugging his shoulders. "Napoleon is not inthe habit of mourning for past events, but a failure incites him torenewed exertions, and inspires his genius to perform fresh and daringexploits. Although the lion for once may have seen his prey slip fromhis grasp, it does not render him dispirited. He only shakes his mane,and crouches for a new bound."
"Then you believe, M. Minister, that the emperor is planning anotherbattle?" joyfully asked Lannes.
"I am convinced of it, but do not believe that to be the reason of hisill-humor. The furrows on his brow express his sorrow for the death ofyoung Napoleon--his little nephew--the grandson of the empress!"
"Ah, bah!" exclaimed Lannes, "it would really be worth while for a greatchieftain to mourn for a child eight years of age!"
"He does not mourn for the child, but for the successor," saidTalleyrand. "You know, the son of his brother Louis and his stepdaughterHortense was to be his heir--the future Emperor of France. You see howdifficult it is to say in advance who is to be the heir of a throne.Some accident--a brick falling from a roof, an attack of the measles, acontemptible cough--may bring about the ruin of dynasties and the riseof new ones. The hopes of Josephine have been buried with young NapoleonLouis. Poor empress! her downfall is inevitable, for the emperor mustthink henceforth of an heir--of a legitimate union. Alas! how many tearswill that cost poor Josephine's heart!"
"I am sure, Prince de Benevento, when you deplore the fate of theempress, you suggest great sufferings for her. But we know the subtlediplomacy of the minister who says that language was given for the solepurpose of concealing our thoughts. Hence, prince, I am in the habit ofbelieving exactly the reverse of what you say. You are sure to overthrowJosephine and have already selected her successor. Tell us who is she?Upon whom do you intend to confer the honor of giving an heir to theemperor?"
"Let us rather put this question to our taciturn friend Duroc," saidTalleyrand, softly laying his hand on the shoulder of the grand marshal,who was standing in front of them with folded arms. "Please take noticethat the grand marshal has not added a single word to ourconversation--that he has listened calmly to our suppositions about theemperor's melancholy, and has not assisted us in ferreting out thetruth. It is evident, therefore, that he is aware of it, and that itdoes not affect him painfully. Pray tell us, grand marshal, who isright--the Duke de Montebello or myself?"
"Perhaps, prince, both of you are mistaken," said Duroc, "and perhaps,again, both of you are right. Who is able to fathom the thoughts andsecrets--but I believe the emperor is calling me!" And he approached thedoor of the imperial cabinet and listened.
"Duroc!" cried the emperor, "Duroc!"
The grand marshal took leave of the two gentlemen with a careless bowand hastened away. Napoleon sat on an easy-chair at the open window,supporting his head on his hand, and gazing out on the landscape. Heseemed to have entirely forgotten that he had called the grand marshal,and did not even notice the latter after he had entered. An air ofprofound sadness was depicted in his features.
"Your majesty called me," said Duroc, approaching.
Napoleon started and turned his head slowly toward the grand marshal."It is true," he said, "I called you, Duroc. I was ungracious, and leftyou without saying a kind word to you. I am sorry. You may repeat mywords to the other two princes." He gave his small white hand to Duroc,who pressed it against his breast with an expression of tenderness. "Ithank your majesty for this fresh proof of your magnanimity," he said,"and shall communicate it to the other two princes."
He was about to withdraw, but the emperor detained him. "Tell me, first,Duroc, whether they were very angry with me? Did old Lannes grumble? DidTalleyrand comment in hi
s usual manner?"
"Oh, sire!" exclaimed Duroc, reproachfully, "all three of us were filledonly with grief; we were considering what might be the cause of yourmajesty's melancholy."
"Well, and what did you guess? and what Lannes?"
"He believed your majesty was striving to crown the battle of Eylau witha brilliant victory, and that you were planning a new battle."
"He is right," exclaimed Napoleon, energetically. "We are not yet at theend of our struggle, and the brave men who were buried under the snow ofEylau must be avenged. I shall soon bid the sun of Austerlitz and Jenashine on the plains of Prussia, and dazzle the eyes of the Emperor ofRussia. I will bring him to his knees and make him cry '_Paterpeccavi_!' I will show him what it is to menace me; and when I unfurl mybanner on the Kremlin of Moscow, Alexander shall bear the train of mypurple cloak. The world belongs to me! Woe unto him who stands in myway--I will crush him as the elephant crushes the worm! Lannes is right;I am planning a new battle. But it is not this that makes me sad. Whatdid Talleyrand say--Talleyrand, Prince de Benevento, with the keen noseand the impenetrable smile?"
"Talleyrand said it was not the planning of future battles, but that youwere mourning for the little son of the King of Holland."
"Ah, indeed, Talleyrand is not altogether mistaken," exclaimed Napoleon,heaving a sigh; "my heart is mourning for young Napoleon. He was mydarling, and I had accustomed myself to regard him as my heir. He wasblood of my blood, and there was something shining in his eyes thatseemed to me to be a beam of my own mind. I loved the boy. And now--whatdid Talleyrand say besides, Duroc?" asked Napoleon, interruptinghimself. "You are silent. Be frank; I want to know it all!"
"Sire," said Duroc, timidly, "the Prince de Benevento lamented the fateof the empress, for he believes the death of little Prince NapoleonLouis to be a mournful--nay, a fatal event for her, inasmuch as yourmajesty would now be under the necessity of having a successor to thenoble and adored Empress Josephine, and an heir-apparent to yourempire."
"And he was impudent enough to lament her fate!" exclaimed Napoleon, "hewho has striven for years to overthrow her--he who always united with myfamily to prove to me the right of disowning her. Ah, poor dearJosephine! I ought never to have thought of listening to theirinsinuations; I was hitherto her most faithful defender, for I love her,and know that she is a sincere friend."
"An empress, sire," said Duroc, "who would be an ornament to any throne,and whose grace, amiability, and kind-heartedness, have won as manysubjects for your majesty as your battles. Sire, all France loves andworships the Empress Josephine; all France would weep with her if herenemies succeed in removing her from her throne, and from the side ofher adored husband, and the tears and imprecations of a whole peoplewould be the festive welcome with which France would receive a newempress!"
"You paint in very glaring colors," exclaimed Napoleon, gloomily, "but,then, I know you to be one of Josephine's admirers. She is really a goodwife, and I never had room for complaint. But for one consideration, Ishould never think of separating from her. Fate is against her, and I amafraid it will compel me--ah, let us not dare to pry into the future.Let us rather attend to the present. You have told me the suppositionsof Lannes and Talleyrand, but not your own. What did you say?" He lookedat Duroc with his eagle eyes, and repeated, "What did you say?"
"Sire," replied Duroc, "I said nothing."
"You said nothing, because you know what ails me," said Napoleon,vehemently, "because you can fathom the pain, the anger, and grief of myheart!"
He rose from his easy-chair, and paced the room, with his arms behindhim. "Duroc," he said, after a long pause, and in a husky, tremulousvoice, "is it not a disgrace that this should happen? The world isbowing to me, and recognizing me as its master, and a woman dares resistme--a fair, delicate little creature that I could crush, as it were, inmy hands--that an angry breath from my mouth could destroy as a lily inthe blast of the desert. Duroc, she dares resist me, and opposes a cold,stubborn silence to my request--nay, to my fervent supplications!"
"Sire, she is married," said Duroc, timidly, "she is married, and--"
"She is married to a husband whom she does not--cannot love," exclaimedNapoleon, impetuously. "He is a white-haired old man--a man of sixtyyears, to whom her parents have sold her!"
"But her husband is said to love his beautiful wife passionately."
"Let him dare molest her with his love," exclaimed Napoleon, menacingly;"let him touch only with the tip of his finger this flower that I myselfwould have! She has not deserved the sorry fate of withering at the sideof a decrepit old man; she serves to bloom at the heart of an emperor!Oh, how beautiful she is! When I saw her, for the first time, at theball in Warsaw, I fell in love with her, and felt that I must possessher. Her light-colored hair was shining about her noble head like ahalo; heaven seemed to be reflected in her azure eyes, and the tinge ofmelancholy shading her face rendered her still more charming andseductive. She was an innocent victim of the selfishness of others; Iperceived it at a glance, and have loved her ever since. I took a secretoath to rescue her from her misery, and, by my love, to restorehappiness to her! And yet she disdains me, Duroc!"
"No, sire, she does not disdain the exalted lover whom she worships; sheis not, however, a flirt, but a virtuous wife. She will not provefaithless to her husband; she will not break the vows she took uponherself at the altar. She is engaged in a terrible struggle between dutyand love, for your majesty knows very well that Madame de Walewska lovesyou!"
"No, no, she does not love me," exclaimed Napoleon, vehemently. "If shereally loved me, she would listen to no other voice than mine! Isupplicated her with the whole strength of my affection--with all theanger of a spurned admirer, with all the humility of a doting lover, butneither my anger nor my supplications were able to move her. And yet sheasserts that she loves me; she dares to say that she shares my passion!Oh, she is a cold-hearted, cruel coquette; it gladdens her to behold mysufferings, and to play with my heart!"
"Sire, you are unjust," exclaimed Duroc. "Madame de Walewska is an angelof virtue and purity; she would joyfully sacrifice her life to saveyour majesty a sigh!"
"But she is unwilling to sacrifice to me this chimera of virtue,"exclaimed Napoleon, "although she has already disregarded it by lovingme. She is not courageous enough to give up the semblance after havingalready parted with the substance. Like all women she is timid, andincapable of a great resolution! How many letters have I not written toher since I last saw her! After the battle of Eylau--like a miserableadventurer--a knight-errant--I went in disguise to the village where shehad at length promised to meet me at her brother's house. What awretched rendezvous it was! Nothing but a farewell scene! She desires togo into a convent, and give her heart to God, because she is not allowedto give it to me. I am no Abelard, however, and do not want her tobecome a Heloise! If she goes into a convent, I shall have its wallstorn down, and the order she has joined abolished."
"But she will not go into a convent, sire; love will at last triumphover her virtue, and she will finally declare herself vanquished. Shepromised your majesty to defer the execution of her purpose for a year,but, I am sure, she will not be strong enough to close her heart so longagainst the passionate entreaties of a lover whom she adores. Theletters which your majesty writes to her, and which she does not refuseto accept, are like hot shells thrown into the fortress of her heart.They do a great deal of mischief."
"Forsooth, it is a consolation that she does not refuse my notes. I havesent them almost every day during two months; every week I send acourier who meets her when, escaping from the Argus-eyes of her husband,she goes to the cathedral. But I receive only laconic replies. Thiswoman is either incapable of genuine love, or she is a demon whodelights in torturing me."
"Sire, does it please your majesty to partake of this fruit?" said agentle voice behind him.
The emperor started. Absorbed in his passion--filled with the idea nowagitating his soul, he had not heard the door of the cabinet softlyopen,
and was unaware that one of the imperial pages, holding a goldenfruit-plate, had entered. Duroc also had not noticed that he was presentwhile the emperor was still speaking, and that he must have overheardthe last words of his majesty. The page leaned, pale and exhausted,against the wall near the door, and the golden plate was trembling inhis hands.
Napoleon cast a glowing glance on him, and rushing toward him, snatchedthe plate and threw it on the floor. As the peaches rolled across theroom, he seized the page's arms, and drew him toward the window. "Whoare you?" he asked, scarcely able to master his emotion. "Who are you?Speak, that I may hear your voice!"
The page looked in his face, aglow with anger, and his large blue eyesfilled with tears. "I am a demon who delights in torturing you," he saidin a low voice.
Napoleon did not utter a word. He tore the velvet cap from the page'shead, and when his long silken hair fell on his shoulders in heavymasses, a smile of unutterable bliss overspread the emperor's face. Heseized the fair ringlets with his hands and kissed them; he laid them onhis own head, and they covered his face like a golden veil. He thenshook them off with a merry laugh, and encircled the page so violentlyin his arms, that he uttered a cry. "Mary, Mary," he exclaimedpassionately, "you are in my arms at last--you are here! Duroc, justlook at this wonderful page. Come here, and look at the angel Islandered just now!"
But Duroc did not appear. He preferred to move quietly out of the roomand to lock the door after him. Napoleon, therefore, was alone with hismistress, and thanked Duroc in his heart for this discretion. He claspedthe weeping and blushing lady in his arms, and tried with gentle forceto remove her hands, in which she had buried her face. "Mary," he asked,in a tone of suppliant tenderness, "Mary, you weep, and yet you say youlove me?"
"Yes, I do love you," she exclaimed, sinking on her knees. "I love youintensely! Ah, have mercy on me! Do not condemn me because I come hitherin spite of my conscience and my honor! Napoleon, I have no longer anything on earth but you! I have no longer a country, a family, a name! Igave up every thing for you--my life, my honor, my happiness, are yours!Remember it, and do not despise me!"
He raised her from her knees and pressed a kiss on her quivering lips."Mary," he said, "this kiss shall have the same effect upon you as ofold the gift of knighthood had on the warrior--it will impart to you ahigher and more sacred life, and confer the highest honor on you!Henceforth you are mine, and shall be as immortal as myself; and whenposterity mentions the name of the Emperor Napoleon, it shall at thesame time remember his beautiful mistress, and repeat the name of MaryWalewska together with that of Josephine!"
"Oh," murmured Mary, "you mention the noble and generous EmpressJosephine, whom I worship, and against whom I am committing a crime! Mayfate enable me to atone for my guilt one day by sacrificing my life foryou, and proving to you and to the world that I loved you truly andfaithfully."
"No, you shall live--live for me," said Napoleon, ardently; "do notcomplain any more, Mary; dry your beautiful eyes. Come, sit down with meand tell me how it happened that you conquered your heart, and why I seeyou in this disguise?" He drew her to the divan and wound his arm aroundher waist. She laid her head on his shoulder, and gazed up to him withdreamy eyes.
"How it happened?" she asked. "I cannot find words to tell you. Ireenacted the part of Penelope. Every night I tried to fasten a coat ofmail around my heart--to protect it as with a net-work of virtue andduty. But your letters were the wooers that destroyed in the day theresolutions of the night. Your complaints rent my heart; your reproachestortured my soul. I felt at last that I was irretrievably lost--that Iloved you boundlessly, and that I was anxious to prove it to you. But myhusband watched me with lynx-eyed vigilance; he was constantly at myside, now threatening, in the fury of his jealousy, to assassinate meshould I leave him, and now imploring me with tearful eyes to spare hishonor and pity his love. I felt that I would have either to die, orrenounce my married life, and enter upon a new existence--an existenceof true happiness if you love me, but of suffering and self-reproach ifyou despise, me!"
"I love you," said Napoleon, with a proud and confident air. "Proceed."
"I have finished," she said. "My trusty lady's maid prepared every thingfor my escape, and four days ago, when my husband believed me at church,I and my maid entered a travelling-coach and continued our journey dayand night until we arrived at Castle Finkenstein."
"And this disguise?" asked Napoleon, pointing at the costume she waswearing.
Mary blushed and smiled. "I had it made by a tailor at Warsaw, whoprepared the suits the imperial pages wore at that ball. I had notsufficient courage to enter this castle as a lady, only men living in itat the present time. I desired to enter your room without recognition orinsult. I left my carriage at the neighboring village, and walked hitheron foot. At the castle-gate, I inquired for Constant, your _valet dechambre_, and requested the servants to call him. I confided my secretto him, and he conducted me to this room. And thus, my beloved friend, Iam here; I am lying at your feet, and imploring you to kill me if you donot love me, for I cannot live without your love!" She glided from thedivan to the floor, and looked up to the emperor with clasped hands andimploring eyes.
Napoleon bent over her and drew her smilingly into his arms. "You shalllive," he said, "for I love you and pledge you my imperial word that Iwill never desert you!"