Chapter XLVII. Evil Tidings.

It was in the last days of November, 1805. After the victory of Ulm, the Emperor Napoleon had established his headquarters in Brunn, where he seemed to wait for his adversaries to attack him. There was no longer one enemy opposed to him; he had no longer to cope with Austria alone, but also with Russia, whose emperor was now at Olmutz with the Emperor of Austria, for the purpose of agreeing with him on the plan of operations by which Napoleon was to be defeated. The Russian army had already formed a junction with the Austrian forces, and even the Russian life-guards, the elite of their army, had left Russia in order to accompany their emperor to the great decisive battle.

But Napoleon had likewise brought his guards along, and these splendid troops were impatient and eager to fight the last decisive battle with the Austrians and with "the hordes of the Russian barbarians."

Napoleon, however, still hesitated; his plans apparently had not been matured, and he seemed undecided whether to advance still further or to content himself with the victories he had already obtained.

This last alternative was urged on him by his generals, who believed the victory of Ulm to be so brilliant a triumph that the French army might repose on its laurels, instead of drawing the sword once more.

Napoleon, however, did not assent to these views of his generals.

"If we had to cope only with the Austrians we might be satisfied, but there are the Russians, too, and it will be necessary for us to send them home. We must give them their passports."

Greatly elated at this idea, the emperor ordered his horse to be brought to him.

"We will examine the country a little," he said to his generals; "accompany me, gentlemen."

And surrounded by his brilliant staff, consisting of the most illustrious and victorious officers of his army, the emperor rode out far into the plain between Brunn and Vichau, crowned all around with hills and mountains. His bold, searching glances surveyed the country in every direction; not a height, not a tree, not a ravine, escaped his attention; he examined every thing, and seemed to engrave them on his soul. It was near nightfall when he returned with his generals from this long ride to his headquarters. He had all day been taciturn and absorbed, and none of his generals had been permitted to participate in his plans and observations. He had only sometimes directed their attention by a laconic word or by a wave of his hand to some peculiarity of the landscape, and the generals had received these words and gestures like the mysterious hints of an oracle, with the most respectful attention, in order to weigh them in their minds, and to indelibly engrave them in their memory. On his arrival at the door of his headquarters, the emperor turned his pale, grave face once more to the plain which they had just left.

"Gentlemen," he said, in a loud voice, "study that part of the country as closely as possible; you will have to play a role in it within a few days. General Suchet, on the left side of your division there is an isolated mound, commanding your entire front. Cause fourteen cannon to be placed on it in the course of the present night." [Footnote: Napoleon’s own words. Vide "Memoires du Duc de Rovigo," vol. ii., p. 169.] He nodded to the gentlemen and entered his cabinet.

He paced his room for a long while with folded arms, compressed lips, and a gloomy air.

"I need a few days more," he muttered. "If they should attack me now, quickly and resolutely, I must succumb; if they give me three days’ time, however, I shall defeat them."

When he then stooped musingly before his desk, he suddenly noticed the papers lying on it.

"Ah," he said, hastily seizing a large, sealed letter, "a courier, who has brought dispatches in my absence! From the minister of the navy—news from the fleet!"

He broke the seal hurriedly and unfolded the paper. While reading it his mien became still more gloomy; a cloud of anger settled on his expansive brow, and his cheeks, which had hitherto only been pale, turned livid.

The glance which he now cast toward heaven would have reminded the spectator of the Titans who dared to hurl their missiles even at the Sovereign Deity; the words muttered by his quivering lips were an angry oath.

With this oath he crumpled up the paper in his hand, threw it down and stamped on it; then, as if ashamed of his own violence, he sank down on a chair, and laid his hands slowly, and with a deep sigh, on his trembling, pale face. The modern Titan had now found out for the first time that there was a God enthroned in heaven more powerful than himself; for the first time an invisible hand had stopped him in his hitherto victorious course.

The paper he had just trampled under foot announced to him the first great defeat, the first check his grand schemes had met with.

The French fleet had been completely beaten and almost annihilated by the English at Trafalgar. [Footnote: October 21, 1806.] England, the only enemy who had constantly opposed Napoleon in a menacing and fearless manner, detested England had gained a magnificent triumph. She had destroyed the whole naval power of France, and won a brilliant victory; a victory which humiliated France and overwhelmed her with disgrace. It is true it was a dearly-bought victory for England, for Nelson, her greatest naval hero, had paid for his immortal triumph with his life. The French admiral, Villeneuve, who was defeated at Trafalgar, had not even been lucky and wise enough to expiate his ignominy by his death; he had fallen, a despairing prisoner, into the hands of the English, and served as a living trophy to the triumphant conqueror’s. [Footnote: Admiral Villeneuve was released by the English government. Napoleon banished him to Rennes, where he committed suicide on the 26th of April, 1806, by piercing his heart with a pin.]

Such were the terrible tidings which Napoleon had just received; it was the first thunderbolt which the God of heaven had hurled down upon the powerful Titan.

But the Titan did not feel crushed by it; the thunderbolt only served to fan the fire in his breast.

He rose from his seat, and his eyes flashed with anger.

"I cannot be everywhere," he said, aloud, "but my enemies shall soon find out that I am here, and I shall know how to avenge the disgrace of Trafalgar by a brilliant victory." [Footnote: Napoleon’s own words.]

The door behind him opened at this moment, and the chief of the imperial cabinet, M. de Bourrienne, entered.

"Sire," he said, "the two Austrian envoys, Count de Giulay and Count Stadion, have returned, and beg your majesty to grant them an audience."

"So late at night!" exclaimed the emperor. "Why did they not come in the daytime?"

"They pretend to have been detained by the impassable state of the roads, but assert to be able to lay before your majesty some highly important intelligence, which would seem entirely calculated to bring about the conclusion of peace so longed for by Austria."

"Let the gentlemen come in," said the emperor, after a short reflection, and he placed his foot again on the crumpled paper, as if he wished to choke the secret of its contents, so that it might not betray itself to the Austrians. Bourrienne had gone out, and the two Austrian envoys, Count Giulay and Count Stadion, now appeared on the threshold.

"You return to me," said the emperor, hastily, to them; "my conditions have been accepted, then? I told you I should not negotiate separately with Austria, but that I should require Russia to participate in the negotiations, and to be included in the treaty of peace on which we might agree. You come, then, in the name of the Emperors of Austria and Russia?"

"No, sire," said Count Stadion, respectfully, "we come only in the name of Austria."

"The emperor, our august master," began Count Giulay—but Napoleon interrupted him quickly.

"I shall listen to you only if you are authorized to speak in the name of the two emperors," said Napoleon. "I already told you so yesterday, and I do not see what should induce me to-day to change my mind. The state of affairs is precisely the same."

"Pardon me, sire, it is not," said Count Giulay, firmly.

The emperor fixed a piercing glance on him, as if he wished to read in the innermost recesses of his heart.

"And why is it not the same?" he asked, while his eye slowly turned toward the foot, under which he concealed the sinister dispatch.

"Your majesty was yesterday pleased to say that Austria, although she might boast of the active support of Russia, could never count on the assistance of Prussia, and that Prussia’s neutrality was as useful to France as Russia’s active support to Austria."

"Why do you repeat the words I uttered yesterday?" asked the emperor, impetuously.

"Sire, because Prussia is no longer neutral," said Count Stadion, solemnly.

"Because Prussia is ready to become, like Russia and England, the active ally of Austria," added Count Giulay.

Napoleon’s flashing, gloomy eyes looked alternately at the two Austrian envoys.

"How did you obtain that information?" he asked at last.

"Sire, from his majesty the Emperor of Russia. He has concluded a treaty with the king at Potsdam, by which Frederick William III. declares his readiness to participate in the campaign and to assist Austria, unless your majesty should condescend to accept the conditions which the King of Prussia is to propose as mediator between the coalition and France."

"Ah, the King of Prussia is going to propose conditions to me?" exclaimed Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders. "Do you know those conditions?"

"The King of Prussia will propose to your majesty to surrender the crown of Italy, not to disturb the princes of Italy in their possessions and independence, to recognize the independence of the German empire, of Holland, of Switzerland, to—"

"Enough!" said Napoleon, impatiently. "The Emperor Alexander has taken the liberty to tell you a story, and your credulity must have greatly delighted him. Can you seriously believe that the King of Prussia would in his infatuation go so far as to hope that I should accept propositions of so ridiculous a description? Truly, even if I were a vanquished and humiliated emperor, I should stab myself with my own sword rather than submit to such a disgrace. It seems I have not yet engraved my name deeply enough into the marble tablets of history, and I shall prove to these overbearing princes, who believe their legitimacy to be the Gorgon’s head they only need show in order to crush me—I shall prove to them WHO I AM, AND TO WHOM the future belongs, whether to THEM or to ME! However, it is unnecessary to say so much about things which do not exist."

"Sire, the treaty of Potsdam DOES exist," said Count Stadion. "The envoy whom the King of Prussia has sent off to lay its stiputions before your majesty would have reached your headquarters already if he had travelled as rapidly as the Emperor Alexander, who left Potsdam simultaneously with him."

"Well, let him come; I shall see, then, whether you have told me a story or not," replied Napoleon. "If the King of Prussia has dared to do this, by God, I will pay him for it! [Footnote: Napoleon’s own words.—Vide Hormayer. vol. i., and Hausser’s "History of Germany," vol. ii., p. 680.] But this does not change my resolutions and plans in any respect. I shall enter into negotiations with Austria only on condition that Russia participates in them. State it to those who have sent you, and now farewell."

He nodded to the two gentlemen, and turning his back to them, stepped to the window. Only when a slight jarring of the door told him that they had withdrawn, the emperor turned around and commenced again, his hands folded behind his back, slowly pacing the room.

He then stopped before the large table in the middle of the room, and unrolled one of the maps lying on it. It was a map of southern Germany. After spreading it on the table, the emperor commenced marking it with pins, the variously-colored heads of which designated the different armies of the Russians, Austrians, and French.

The emperor was engaged all night in this task, in studying the map, and in measuring and calculating the distances some of his troops would have to march before reaching the field of action. The waxcandles in the silver chandelier burned down, but he did not notice it; the fire in the fireplace had gone out, but he did not feel it; the door of his cabinet was softly opened from time to time, and the pale face of his vale de chambre Constant, who was evidently exhausted with long waking, appeared, but the emperor did not heed it. His soul was concentrated on one idea, on one aim, viz., to pursue the glorious course of his victories, to humiliate Germany as he had humiliated Italy, and to drown the echoes of Trafalgar by a brilliant triumph.

Morning was already dawning, when Napoleon at length rose from the table and commenced again slowly pacing the room.

"Time, time!" he said, "I only need three days for moving up the third corps, which is already on the march from Bohemia. Time! And yet I must gain a great and brilliant victory before Prussia allies herself openly with Austria and Russia against France. If I should not succeed in doing so, the army of my enemies would be increased by one hundred and fifty thousand men. Hence," he said, after a pause, quite merrily and hopefully, "hence, I must succeed."

He returned to the map and pointed his finger at it.

"The Austrians are over there at Olmutz," he said, quickly. "Here, the Russian guards; there, the united corps of Kutusof and Buxhowden; farther on, the vanguard under Prince Bagration. If they should advance now rapidly, resolutely, directly toward my front, the odds would be too overwhelming; if they should tarry, or if I should succeed in causing them to hesitate until I have got my Bohemian corps in line, I should defeat them. Let us try it, therefore; let us feign inactivity and timidity, so that they may not become active. Cunning is the best ally of a general; let us try to deceive them."

He went to his desk, and taking some gilt-edged paper, commenced writing rapidly.

Fifteen minutes later an orderly requested General Savary to repair to the emperor’s cabinet.

Napoleon received the general with a kindly smile, but he was silent, and looked almost irresolutely at the letter he held in his hand. Suddenly, however, he seemed to come to a firm resolution, and handing the letter to Savary, he said: "Take this letter to Olmutz; deliver it to the Emperor of Russia, and tell him that, having learned that he had arrived at the headquarters of his army, I had sent you to welcome him in my name. If he should converse with you, and put questions to you, you know the replies that should be made under such circumstances. Go." [Footnote: Napoleon’s own words.— Vide "Memoires du Duc de Rovigo," vol. ii., p. 171.]

"And now," said the emperor, when Savary had left him, "now we will sleep a little. Constant!"

The door opened immediately, and the VALET DE CHAMBRE entered.

"Ah, I am afraid you have had a bad night of it," said the emperor, kindly.

"Sire, your majesty has again been awake all the night long, and—"

"And consequently," said Napoleon, interrupting him—"consequently you have been awake, too. Well, console yourself; we shall soon have more quiet nights; console yourself, and do not report me to the Empress Josephine when we have returned to Paris. My dear Josephine hates nothing so much as sleepless nights."

"Sire, the empress is right; she ought to hate them," said Constant, respectfully. "Your majesty, taking no rest whatever in the daytime, needs repose at least in the night. Your majesty sleeps too little."

"By doing so I am better off than the sluggards, inasmuch as my life does not only consist of days, but also of nights," replied Napoleon, good-humoredly. "I shall have lived eighty years then in the space of forty. But be quiet, Constant, I will now comply with your wishes and sleep."

Constant hastened to open the door leading to the bedroom.

"Oh, no," said the emperor, "if I say I will sleep, I do not mean that I will go to bed. Beds are, on the whole, only good for old women and gouty old men. When I was second lieutenant, I once made the experiment not to go to bed for six months, but to sleep on the floor or on a chair, and it agreed very well with me. Give me the handkerchief for my head, and my coat, Constant."

Constant hurried with a sigh to the bedroom in order to fetch the articles Napoleon had ordered; and while he was wrapping the silken handkerchief around the emperor’s head, and assisted him in putting on his gray, well-lined, and comfortable cloth-coat instead of the uniform, the emperor softly whistled and hummed an air.

He then snugly stretched himself in his arm-chair, and kindly nodding to Constant, he said: "As soon as General Savary has returned, let him come in."

Constant softly glided into the anteroom. He met there some of his acquaintances.

"I have important news for you, gentlemen," he said. "We shall fight a battle in two or three days."

"Did the emperor tell you so?"

"No, he is not in the habit of speaking of such things. But during the night-toilet he whistled Marlborough’s air, and he does so only when there is to be a battle." [Footnote: "Memoires de Constant," vol. iv., p. 109.]