CHAPTER XLII. THE HALL OF THE MARSHALS
Some minutes before noon we entered the Place du Carrousel, now throngedwith equipages and led horses. Officers in the rich uniforms of every armof the service were pressing their way to the Palace, amid the crash ofcarriages, the buzz of recognitions, and the thundering sounds of thebrass band, whose echo was redoubled beneath the vaulted vestibule ofthe Palace.
Borne along with the torrent, we mounted the wide stair and passedfrom room to room, until we arrived at the great antechamber where theofficers of the household were assembled in their splendid dresses. Herethe crowd was so dense we were unable to move on for some time, andit was after nearly an hour's waiting that we at last found ourselveswithin that gorgeous gallery named by the Emperor "La Salle desMarechaux." At any other moment my attention had been riveted uponthe magnificence and beauty of this great _salon_--its pictures, itsgildings, the richness of the hangings, the tasteful elegance of theceiling, with its tracery of dull gold, the great works of art in bronzeand marble that adorned it on every side,--but now my mind took anotherand very different range. Here around me were met the greatest generalsand warriors of Europe,--the names second alone to his who had no equal.There stood Ney, with his broad, retiring forehead, and his eyes blackand flashing, like an eagle's. With what energy he spoke! how full ofpassionate vigor that thick and rapid utterance, that left a tremulousquivering on his lip even when he ceased to speak! What a contrast tothe bronzed, unmoved features of the large man he addressed, and wholistened to him with such deference of manner: his yellow mustachebespeaks not the Frenchman; he is a German, by blood at least,--for itis Kellerman, the colonel of the curassiers of the Guard. And yonder wasSoult, with his strong features seamed by many a day of hardship,the centre of a group of colonels of the staff to whom he was rapidlycommunicating their orders. Close beside him stood Lannes, his arm ina sling; a gunshot wound that defied the art of the surgeons stilldeprived him of his left hand. And there leaned Savary against thewindow, his dark eyes riveted on the corps of _gendarmerie_ in the courtbeneath; full taller by a head than the largest about him, he seemedalmost gigantic in the massive accoutrements of his service. The fierceDavoust; the gay and splendid Murat, with his waving plumes and jewelleddolman; Lefebvre, the very type of his class, moving with difficultyfrom a wound in his hip,--all were there: while passing rapidly fromplace to place, I remarked a young and handsome man, whose uniform ofcolonel bore the decoration of the Legion; he appeared to know and beknown to all. This was Eugene Beauharnais, the stepson of the Emperor.
"Ah, General d'Auvergne!" cried he, approaching with a smile, "hisMajesty desires to see you after the levee. You leave to-night, Ibelieve?"
"Yes, Colonel; all is in readiness," said the general; while I thought alook of anxiety at the Emperor's summons seemed to agitate his features.
"One of your staff?" said Beauharnais, bowing, as he looked towards me.
"My aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Burke," replied the general, presenting me.
"Ah! I remember," said the colonel, as he drew himself proudly up, andseemed as though the recollection were anything but favorable to me.
But just then the wide folding-doors were thrown open, and a loud voiceproclaimed, "Sa Majeste l'Empereur!"
In an instant every voice was hushed, the groups broke up, and fellback into two long lines, between which lay a passage; along this theofficers of the Palace retired slowly, facing the Emperor, who came stepby step after them. I could but see the pale face, massive and regular,like the head of an antique cameo; the hair combed straight upon hisfine forehead; and his large, full eyes, as they turned hither andthither among that crowd, once his equals, now how immeasurably hisinferiors! He stopped every now and then to say a word or two to someone as he passed, but in so low a tone, that even in the dead silencearound nothing was audible save a murmur. It was a relief to my ownexcited feelings, as, with high, beating heart, I gazed on the greatestmonarch of the world, that I beheld the others around, the oldestgenerals, the time-worn companions of his battles, not less moved thanmyself.
While the Emperor passed slowly along, I could mark that EugeneBeauharnais moved rapidly through the gallery, whispering now to thisone, now to that, among the officers of superior grade, who immediatelyafter left the salon by a door at the end. At length he approachedGeneral d'Auvergne, saying,--
"The audience of the marshals, will not occupy more than half an hour;pray be in readiness to wait on his Majesty when he calls. You canremain in the blue drawing-room next the gallery!"
The general bowed, and taking my arm, moved slowly from the spot inthe direction mentioned, and in a few minutes we found ourselves in thesmall room where the Empress used to receive her morning visitors duringthe Consulate.
"You remember this _salon_ Burke?" said the general, carelessly.
"Yes, sir, but too well; it was here that his Majesty gave me thatrebuke--"
"True, true, my dear boy; I forgot that completely. But come, there hasbeen time enough to forget it since. I wonder what can mean this summonsto attend here! I have received my orders; there has been, so far as Iunderstand, no change of plan. Well, well, we shall soon know. See,the levee has begun to break up already; there goes the staff of theartillery; that roll of the drum is for some general of division."
And now the crash of carriages, and the sounds of cavalry escortsjingling beside them, mingled with the deep beating of the drums, madea mass of noises that filled the air, and continued without interruption|or above an hour.
"_Sacristi_" cried the general, "the crowd seems to pour in as fast asit goes out; this may last for the entire day. I have scarce two hoursleft me now."
He walked the room impatiently; now muttering some broken words tohimself, now stopping to listen to the sounds without. Still the dincontinued, and the distant roll of equipages, growing louder as theycame, told that the tide was yet pressing onwards towards the Palace."Three o'clock!" cried the general, as the bell of the pavilion sounded;"at four I was to leave. Such were my written orders, signed by theminister."
His impatience now became extreme. He knew how difficult it was, in amatter of military discipline, to satisfy Napoleon that any breach,even when caused by his direct orders, was not a fault. Besides, his oldhabits had taught him to respect a command from the Minister of War assomething above all others.
"Beauharnais must have mistaken," said he, angrily. "His Majesty gave memy final directions; I'll wait no longer."
Yet did he hesitate to leave, and seemed actually to rely on me for somehint for his guidance. I did not dare to offer a suggestion; and whilethus we both stood uncertain, the door opened, and a huissier calledout,--
"Lieutenant-Greneral d'Auvergne,--this way, sir," said the official, ashe threw open a folding-door into a long gallery that looked into thegarden. They passed out together, and I was alone.
The agitation of the general at this unexpected summons had communicateditself to me, but in a far different way; for I imagined that hisMajesty desired only to confer some mark of favor on the gallant oldgeneral before parting with him. Yet did I not venture to suggest thisto him, for fear I should be mistaken.
While I revolved these doubts in my mind, the door was flung open with acrash, and a page, in the uniform of the Court, rushed in.
"May I ask, sir," cried he, breathlessly, "can you inform me whereis the aide-de-camp of the General d'Auvergne? I forget the name,unfortunately."
"I am the person,--Lieutenant Burke."
"The same; that is the name. Gome after me with all haste; this way."And so saying, he rushed down a flight of stone stairs, clearing six orseven at a spring.
"A hurried business this, Lieutenant," said the page, laughingly; "tookthem by by surprise, I fancy."
"What is it? What do you mean?" asked I, eagerly.
"Hush!" said he, placing his fingers on his lips; "here they come."
We had just time to stand to one side of the gallery, as the officersof the household came
up, two and two, followed by the Chancellor ofFrance, and the Dean of St. Roch in his full canonicals. They approachedthe table, on which several papers and documents were lying, andproceeded to sign their names to different writings before them. WhileI looked on, puzzled and amazed, totally unable to make the most vagueconjecture of the nature of the proceedings, I perceived that Generald'Auvergne had entered the room, and was standing among the rest at thetable.
"Whose signature do you propose here. General?" said the chancellor, ashe took up a paper before him.
"My aide-de-camp. Lieutenant Burke."
"He is here, sir," said the page, stepping forward.
"You are to sign your name here, sir, and again on this side," saidthe chancellor, "with your birthplace annexed, age, and rank in theservice."
"I am a foreigner," said I; "does that make any difference here?"
"None," said he, smiling; "the witness is but a very subordinatepersonage here."
I took the pen, and proceeded to write as I was desired; and, while thusengaged, the door opened, and a short, heavy step crossed the room. Idid not dare to look up; some secret feeling of terror ran through me,and told me it was the Emperor himself.
"Well, D'Auvergne," said he, in a frank, bold way, quite different fromhis ordinary voice, "you seem but half content with this plan of mine._Pardieu!_ there's many a brave fellow would not deem the case so hard aone."
"As your wish, sire--"
"As mine, _diantre!_ my friend. Do not say mine only; you forget thatthe lady expressed herself equally satisfied. Come I is the _acte_completed?"
"It wants but your Majesty's signature," said the chancellor.
The Emperor took the pen, and dashed some indescribable scroll acrossthe paper; then turning suddenly towards the general, he conversed withhim eagerly for several minutes, but in so low a voice as not tobe audible where I stood. I could but catch the words "Darmstadt--Augsburg--the fourth corps;" from which it seemed the movements of thearmy were the subject; when he added, in a louder voice,--
"Every hour now is worth a day, ay, a week, hereafter. Remember that,D'Auvergne."
"Everything is finished, sire," said the chancellor, handing the foldedpapers to the Emperor.
"These are for your keeping, Greneral," said he, delivering them intoD'Auvergne's hand.
"Pardon, sire," said the chancellor, hastily, "I have made a great errorhere. Madame la Comtesse has not appended her signature to the consent."
"Indeed!" said the Emperor, smiling. "We have been too hasty, it wouldseem; so thinks our reverend father of Saint Roch, I perceive, who isevidently not accustomed to officiate _au coup de tambour_."
"Her Majesty the Empress!" said the _huissier_, as he opened the doorsto permit her to enter. She was dressed in full Court dress, coveredwith jewels; she held within her arm the hand of another, over whosefigure a deep veil was thrown, that entirely concealed her from head tofoot.
"Madame la Comtesse will have the kindness to sign this," said thechancellor, as he handed over a pen to the lady.
She threw back her veil as he spoke. As she turned towards the table, Isaw the pale, almost deathlike features of Marie de Meudon. Such was theshock, I scarce restrained a cry from bursting forth, and a film fellbefore my eyes as I looked, and the figures before me floated likemasses of vapor before my sight.
The Empress now spoke to the general, but no longer could I take noticeof what was said. Voices there were, but they conveyed nothing to mymind. A terrible rush of thoughts, too quick for perception, chased oneanother through my brain, and I felt as though my temples were burstingopen from some pressure within.
Suddenly the general moved forward, and knelt to kiss the Empress'shand; he then took that of Mademoiselle de Meudon, and held it to hislips. I heard the word "Adieu!" faintly uttered by her low voice; theveil fell once more over her features. That moment a stir followed, andin a few minutes more we were descending the stairs alone, the generalleaning on my arm, his right hand pressed across his eyes.
When we reached the court, several officers of rank pressed forward, andI could hear the buzz of phrases implying congratulations and joy, towhich the old general replied briefly, and with evident depression ofmanner. The dreadful oppression of a sad dream was over me still, and Ifelt as though to awake were impossible, when, to some remark near him,the general replied,--
"True! Quite true, Monseigneur; I have made her my wife. There onlyremains one reparation for it, which is to make her my widow."
"His wife!" said I, aloud, re-echoing the word without knowing.
"Even so, mon ami," said he, pressing my hand softly; "my name and myfortune are both hers. As for myself,--we shall never meet again."
He turned away his head as he spoke, nor uttered another word during theremainder of the way.
When we arrived at the Rue de Rohan the horses were harnessed to thecarriage, and all in readiness for our departure. The rumor of expectedwar had brought, a crowd of idlers about the door, through which wepassed with some difficulty into the house. Hastily throwing an eyeover the now dismantled room, the old general approached the window thatlooked out upon the Tuileries. "Adieu!" muttered he to himself; "je nevous reverrai jamais!" And with that he pressed his travelling-cap overhis brows, and descended the stairs.
A cheer burst from the mob; the postilion's whip cracked loudly;the horses dashed over the pavement; and ere the first flurry of madexcitement had subsided from my mind, Paris was some miles behind us,and we were hastening on towards the frontier.
Almost every man has experienced at least one period of his life whenthe curtain seems to drop, and the drama in which he has hitherto actedto end; when a total change appears to pass over the interests he haslived among, and a new and very different kind of existence to openbefore him. Such is the case when the death of friends has left usalone and companionless; when they into whose ears we poured our wholethoughts of sorrow or of joy are gone, and we look around upon the bleakworld without a tie to existence, without one hope to cheer us. Hownaturally then do we turn from every path and place once lingeredover! how do we fly the thoughts wherein once consisted our greatesthappiness, and seek from other sources impressions less painful, becauseunconnected with the past! Still, the bereavement of death is neverdevoid of a sense of holy calm, a sort of solemn peace connected withthe memory of the lost one. In the sleep that knows no waking we see theend of earthly troubles; in the silence of the grave come no soundsof this world's contention; the winds that stir the rank grass of thechurchyard breathe at least repose. Not so when fate has severed us fromthose we loved best during lifetime; when the fortunes we hoped to linkwith our own are torn asunder from us; when the hour comes when we mustturn from the path we had followed with pleasure and happiness, andseek another road in life, bearing with us not only all the memory ofthe past, but all the speculation on the future. There is no sorrow, noaffliction, like this.
It was thus I viewed my joyless fortune,--with such depressingreflections I thought over the past. What mattered it now how my careermight turn? There lived not one to care whether rank or honor, disgraceor death, were to be my portion. The glorious path I often longed totread opened for me now without exciting one spark of enthusiasm. Sois it even in our most selfish desires, we live less for ourselves thanothers.
If my road in life seemed to present few features to hang hopes on, hewho sat beside me appeared still more depressed. Seldom speaking, andthen but in monosyllables, he remained sunk in reverie.
And thus passed the days of our journey, when on the third evening wecame in sight of Coblentz. Then indeed there burst upon my astonishedgaze one of those scenes which once seen are never forgotten. From thegentle declivity which we were now descending, the view extended severalmiles in every direction. Beneath us lay the city of Coblentz, itsspires and domes shining like gilded bronze as the rays of the settingsun fell upon them; the Moselle swept along one side of the town till itmingled its eddies with the broad Rhine, now one sheet of liquid gold
;the long pontoon bridge, against whose dark cutwaters the bright streambroke in sparkling circles, trembled beneath the dull roll of artilleryand baggage-wagons, which might be seen issuing from the town, andserpentining their course along the river's edge for miles, till theywere lost in the narrow glen by which the Lahn flows into the Rhine.Beyond rose the great precipice of rock, with its crowning fortressof Ehrenbreitstein, along whose battlemented walls, almost lost in theheavy clouds of evening, might be seen dark specks moving from place toplace,--the soldiers of the garrison looking down from their eyrie onthe war-tide that flowed beneath. Lower down the river many boats werecrossing, in which, as the sunlight shone, one could mark the glancingof arms and the glitter of uniforms; while farther again, and in deepshadow, rose the solitary towers of the ruined castle of Lahneck, itsshattered walls and grass-grown battlements standing clearly out againstthe evening sky.
Far as we were oif, every breeze that stirred bore towards us thesoftened swell of military music, which, even when too faint to trace,made the air tremulous with its martial sounds. Along the ramparts ofthe city were crowds of townspeople, gazing with anxious wonderment atthe spectacle; for none knew, save the generals in command of divisions,the destination of that mighty force, the greatest Europe had everseen up to that period. Such indeed were the measures taken to ensuresecrecy, that none were permitted to cross the frontier without aspecial authority from the Minister for Foreign Affairs; the letters inthe various post-offices were detained, and even travellers were deniedpost-horses on the great roads to the eastward, lest intelligencemight be conveyed to Germany of the movement in progress. Meanwhile,at Manheim, at Spire, at Strasburg, and at Coblentz, the long columnsstreamed forth whose eagles were soon destined to meet in the greatplains of Southern Germany.
Such was the gorgeous spectacle that each moment grew more palpable toour astonished senses,--more brilliant far than anything painting couldrealize,--more spirit-stirring than the grandest words that poet eversang.
"The cuirassiers and the dragoons of the Guard are yonder," said thegeneral, as he directed his glass to a large square of the town wherea vast mass of dismounted cavalry were standing. "You see how punctualthey are; we are but two hours behind our time, and they are awaitingour arrival."
"And do we move forward to-night, General?" asked I, in some surprise.
"Yes, and every night. The marches are to be made fourteen hours eachday. There go the Lancers of Berg; you see their scarlet dolmans, don'tyou? And yonder, in the three large boats beyond the point, there arethe sappers of the Guard. What are the shouts I hear? Whence comes thatcheering? Oh, I see! it's a vivandiere; her horse has backed into theriver. See, see! she is going to swim him over! Look how the currenttakes him down! Bravely done, faith! She heads him to the stream; itwon't do, though; she must be carried down."
Just at this critical moment a boat shoots out from under the cliff; afew strokes of the oars and they are alongside. There's a splash and ashout, and the skiff moves on.
"And now I see they have given her a rope, and are towing her and herhorse across. See how the old spirit comes back with the first blast ofthe trumpet," said the old general, as his eyes flashed with enthusiasm."That damsel there,--I 'll warrant ye, she 'd have thought twice aboutstepping over a rivulet in the streets of Paris yesterday; and look ather now! Well done! gallantly done! See how she spurs him up thebank! _Ma foi!_ Mademoiselle, you 'll have no lack of lovers for thatachievement."
A few minutes more and we entered the town, whose streets were throngedwith soldiers hurrying on to their different corps, and eager townsfolkasking a hundred questions, to which, of course, few waited to reply.
"This way, General," said an officer in undress, who recognized Generald'Auvergne. "The cavalry of the third division is stationed on thesquare."
Driving through a narrow street, through which the _caleche_ had barelyroom to pass, we now found ourselves in the Place,--a handsome spacesurrounded with a double row of trees, under which the dragoons werelying, holding the bridles of their horses.
The general had scarcely put foot to ground when the trumpets soundedthe call. The superior officers came running forward to greet him.Taking the arm of a short man in the uniform of the cuirassiers, thegeneral entered a cafe near, while I became the centre of some dozenofficers, all eagerly asking the news from Paris, and whether theEmperor had yet left the capital. It was not without considerableastonishment I then perceived how totally ignorant they all were of thedestination of the army; many alleging it was designed for Russia,and others equally positive that the Prussians were the object ofattack,--the arguments in support of each opinion being wonderfullyingenious, and only deficient in one respect, having not a particle offact for their foundation.
In the midst of these conjecturings came a new subject for discussion;for one of the group, who had just received a letter from his brother, apage at the Tuileries, was reading the contents aloud for the benefit ofthe rest:--
"Jules says that they are all astray as to the Emperor's movements.Duroc has left Paris suddenly, but no one knows for where; the onlything certain is, a hot campaign is to open somewhere. One hundred andeighty thousand men--"
"Bah!" said an old, white-mustached major, with a look of evidentunbelief; "we never had forty with the army of the Sambre."
"And what then?" said another, fiercely. "Do you compare your army ofthe Sambre, your sans-culottes Republicans, with the Imperial troops?"
The old major's face became deeply crimsoned, and with a muttered _Ademain_ he walked away.
"Go after him, Amedee," said another; "you had no right to say that."
"Not I, faith," said the other, carelessly. "There is a grudge betweenus these three weeks past, and we may as well have it out. Go on withthe letter, Henri."
"Oh, it is filled with Court gossip," said the reader, negligently. "Ha!what is this, though?--the postscript:--
"'I have just time to tell you the strangest bit of news we have chancedupon for some time past. The Emperor has this moment married oldGeneral d'Auvergne to the very handsomest girl in the Empress'ssuite,--Mademoiselle de Meudon. There is a rumor afloat about the oldman having made her his heir, and desiring to confer her hand onsome young fellow of his own choosing. But this passion to make Courtmatches, which has seized his Majesty lately, stops at nothing; and itis whispered that old Madame d'Orvalle is actually terrified at everylevee lest she should be disposed of to one of the new marshals. I mustsay that the general looks considerably put out by the arrangement,--notunnaturally, perhaps, as he is likely to pass the honeymoon in thefield; while his aide-de-camp, a certain Monsieur Burke, whose name youmay remember figuring in the affair of Pichegru and George--'"
"Perhaps it were as well, sir," said I, quietly, "that I should tellyou the person alluded to is myself. I have no desire to learn howyour correspondent speaks of me; nor, I take it for granted, do thesegentlemen desire to canvass me in my own hearing. With your leave, then,I shall withdraw."
"A word. Monsieur; one word, first," said the officer, whose insolenttaunt had already offended the veteran major. "We are most of us herestaff-officers, and I need not say accustomed to live pretty muchtogether. Will you favor us, then, with a little explanation as to themanner in which you escaped a trial in that business. Your name, if Imistake not, did not figure before the tribunal after the first day?"
"Well, sir; and then?"
"And then? Why, there is one only explanation in such a circumstance."
"And that is? if I may be so bold--"
"That the _mouchard_ fares better than his victim."
"I believe, sir," said I, "I comprehend your meaning; I hope there willbe no fear of your mistaking mine."
With that I drew off the long gauntlet glove I wore, and struck himacross the face.
Every man sprang backwards as I did so, as though a shell had fallenin the midst of us; while a deep voice called out from behind, "LeCapitaine Amedee Pichot is under arrest."
I turned, a
nd beheld the provost-marshal with his guard approach, andtake my adversary's sword from him.
"What charge is this, Marshal?" said he, as a livid color spread overhis cheek.
"Your duel of yesterday, Capitaine; you seem to forget all about italready."
"Whenever and wherever you please, sir," said I, passing close besidehim, and speaking in a whisper.
He nodded without uttering a word in reply, and moved after the guard,while the others dispersed silently, and left me standing alone in thePlace.
What would I not have given at that moment for but one friend to counseland advise me; and yet, save the general, to whom I dared not speak onsuch a subject, I had not one in the whole world. It was, indeed, buttoo true, that life had little value for me; yet never did I contemplatea duel with more abhorrence. The insult I had inflicted, however, couldhave no other result. While I reasoned thus, the door of the cafe,opened, and the general appeared.
"Burke," cried he, "come in here, and make a hasty supper; you must bein the saddle in half an hour."
"Quite ready, sir."
"I know it, my lad. Your orders are there: ride forward to Ettingen, andprepare the billets for the fourth demi-brigade, which will reach thatvillage by to-morrow evening; you'll have time for something to eat, anda glass of wine, before the orderly arrives. This piece of duty isput on you, because a certain Captain Pichot, the only one of thecommissaries' department who can speak German, has just been put underarrest for a duel he fought yesterday. I wish the court-marshal wouldshoot the fellow, with all my heart and soul; he's a perfect curse tothe whole division. In any case, if he escape this time, I'll keep myeye on him, and he'll scarce get clear through my hands, I'll warranthim."
It may be supposed that I heard these words with no common emotion,bearing as they did so closely on my own circumstances at the moment.But I hung down my head and affected to eat, while the old generalwalked hastily up and down the _salon_ muttering half aloud heavydenunciations on the practice of duelling, which at any cost of life heresolved to put down in his command.
"Done already! Why, man, you've eaten nothing. Well, then, I see theorderly without; you've got a capital moonlight for your ride. And so,_au revoir_."
"Good-by, sir," said I, as I sprang into the saddle. "And now forEttingen."
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I Page 45