Part 39 (1/2)
CHAPTER XXV.
THE EMPEROR FRANCIS AT WOLBERSDORF.
The Emperor of Austria was still at his headquarters at Wolkersdorf.
The news of the victory at Aspern had illuminated the Emperor's face with the first rays of hope, and greatly lessened the influence of the peace-party over him. The war-party became more confident; the beautiful, pale face of the Empress Ludovica became radiant as it had never been seen before; and Count Stadion told the emperor he would soon be able to return to Vienna.
But the Emperor Francis shook his head with an incredulous smile.
”You do not know Bonaparte,” he said, ”if you think he will, because he has suffered a defeat, be immediately ready to make peace and return to France. Now he will not rest before he gains a victory and repairs the blunders he has committed. There is wild and insidious blood circulating in Bonaparte's veins, and the battle of Aspern has envenomed it more than ever. Did you not hear, Stadion, of what Bonaparte is reported to have said? He declared that there was no longer a dynasty of the Hapsburgs, but only the petty princes of Lorraine. And do you not know that he has addressed to the Hungarians a proclamation advising them to depose me without further ceremony, and elect another king, of course one of the new-fangled French princes? Do you not know that he has sent to Hungary emissaries who are calling upon the people to rise against me and conquer their liberty, which he, Bonaparte, would protect? In truth, it is laughable to hear Bonaparte still prating about liberty as though it were a piece of sugar which he has only to put into the mouth of the nations, when they are crying like babies, in order to silence them, and thereupon pull the wool quietly over their eyes.
But it is true, the nations really are like babies; they do not become reasonable and wise, and the accursed word 'liberty,' which Bonaparte puts as a flea into their ears, maddens them still as though a tarantula had bitten them. They have seen in Italy and France what sort of liberty Napoleon brings to them, and what a yoke he intends to lay on their necks while telling them that he wishes to make freemen of them. But they do not become wise, and who knows if the Magyars will not likewise allow themselves to be fooled and believe in the liberty which Bonaparte promises to them?”
”No, your majesty,” said Count Stadion, ”the Magyars are no children; they are men who know full well what to think of Bonaparte's insidious flatteries, and will not permit him to mislead them by his deceptive promises. They received the Archduke John with genuine enthusiasm, and every day volunteers are flocking to his standards to fight against the despot who, like a demon of terror, tramples the peace and prosperity of all Europe under his b.l.o.o.d.y feet. No, Bonaparte can no longer count upon the sympathies of the nations; they are all ready to rise against him, and in the end hatred will accomplish that which love and reason were unable to bring about. The hatred of the nations will crush Bonaparte and hurl him from his throne.”
”Provided the princes of the Rhenish Confederation do not support him, or provided the Emperor Alexander of Russia does not catch him in his arms,” said Francis, shrugging his shoulders.” I have no great confidence in what you call the nations; they are really reckless and childish people. If Bonaparte is lucky again, even the Germans will idolize him before long; but if he is unlucky, they will stone him. Just look at my ill.u.s.trious brother, the generalissimo. After the defeats of Landshut and Ratisbon, and the humble letter which he wrote to Bonaparte, you, Count Stadion, thought it would be good for the Archduke Charles if we gave him a successor, and if we removed him, tormented as he is by a painful disease, from the command-in-chief of the army. We, therefore, suggested to the archduke quietly to present his resignation which would be promptly accepted. But the generalissimo would not hear of it, and thought he would have first to make amends for the defeats which he had sustained at Landshut and Ratisbon. Now he has done so; he has avenged his former defeats and achieved a victory at Aspern; and after this brilliant victory he comes and offers his resignation, stating that his feeble health compels him to lay down the command and surrender if to some one else. But all at once my minister of foreign affairs has changed his mind: the victory of Aspern has converted him, and he thinks now that the generalissimo must remain at the head of the army. If so sagacious and eminent a man as Count Stadion allows success to mould his opinion, am I not right in not believing that the frivolous fellows whom you call 'the nations' have no well-settled opinions at all?”
”Pardon me, sire,” said Count Stadion, smiling; ”your majesty commits a slight error. Your majesty confounds principles with opinions. An honorable man and an honorable nation may change their opinions, but never will they change their principles. Now the firmer and more immovable their principles are, the more easily they may come to change their opinions; for they seek for instruments to carry out their principles; they profit to-day by the cervices of a tool which seems to them sufficiently sharp to perform its task, and they cast it aside to-morrow because it has become blunt, and must be replaced by another. This is what happens to the nations and to myself at this juncture. The nations are bitterly opposed to France; the whole German people, both north and south, is unanimous in its intense hatred against Napoleon. The nations do not allow him to deceive them; they see through the Caesarean mask, and perceive the face of the tyrant, despot, and intriguer, lurking behind it. They do not believe a word of his pacific protestations and promises of freedom and liberal reforms; for they see that he always means war when he prates about peace, that he means tyranny when he promises liberty, and that he gives Draconic laws instead of establis.h.i.+ng liberal inst.i.tutions. The nations hate Napoleon and abhor his despotic system. They seek for means to annihilate him and deliver at length the b.l.o.o.d.y and trembling world from him. If the princes were as unanimous in their hatred as the nations are, Germany would stand as one man, sword in hand; and this sublime and imposing spectacle would cause Napoleon to retreat with his host beyond the Rhine, the German Rhine, whose banks would be guarded by the united people of Germany.” ”You speak like a Utopian, my dear count,” said the emperor, with a shrug. ”If the united people of Germany are alone able to defeat and expel Bonaparte, he will never he defeated and expelled, for Germany will never be united; she will never stand up as one man, but always resemble a number of rats grown together by their tails, and striving to move in opposite directions. Let us speak no more of a united Germany; it was the phantom that ruined my uncle, the Emperor Joseph, whom enthusiasts call the Great Joseph.
But I do not want to be ruined, and therefore I do not want to hear any thing of a united Germany. Thank G.o.d, since 1806, I am no longer Emperor of Germany, but only Emperor of Austria, and that is enough for me. I do not care what the princes of the Confederation of the Rhine are doing, nor what intrigues Prussia is entering into in order to rise from its humiliating prostration; I fix my eyes only on Austria, and think only whether Austria will be able to cope with Bonaparte, or whether she may not ultimately fare as badly as Prussia did. We have unfortunately experienced already one Austerlitz; if we should suffer another defeat like it, we would be lost; hence we must be cautious, and I ask you, therefore, why you do not want me now to accept the resignation of the generalissimo, when, only a fortnight ago, you advocated his removal from the command-in-chief of the army?”
”Your majesty, because a fortnight ago he had been repeatedly defeated, and because he has now gained a brilliant victory. This shows your majesty again the difference between opinions and principles. Opinions change and are influenced by success. After the battle of Ratisbon, the generalissimo was looked upon with distrust and anxiety by his army, nay, by the whole people of Austria, who turned their eyes to the Archduke John, the victor of Sacile and St.
Boniface, and wanted to see at the head of the army a victorious general, instead of the defeated Archduke Charles; but the latter has acted the hero, and been victorious at Aspern, and the love and confidence of the army and people are restored to him; all look upon him as the liberator of the fatherland, and will stand by him until- -”
”Until he loses another battle,” interrupted the emperor, sneeringly. ”My dear count, one swallow does not make a summer, and- -Well, what is it, Leonard?” said the emperor, turning quickly to his footman, who entered the room at this moment.
”Your majesty, his imperial highness the Archduke John has just arrived, and requests an audience.”
”Let the archduke come in,” said the emperor; and when the footman had withdrawn, Francis turned again to the minister. ”He is the second swallow in which the childish people here are hoping,” he said. ”But two swallows do not make a summer either; there may still be a frost under which John's young laurels of Sacile and St.
Boniface will wither.--Ah, here is my brother.”
The emperor advanced a few steps to meet the Archduke John, who had just crossed the threshold, and stood still at the door to bow deeply and reverentially to his imperial brother.
”No ceremonies, brother, no ceremonies,” said the emperor, smiling; ”we are here not in the imperial palace, but in the camp; my crown is in Vienna, and my head is therefore bare, while yours is wreathed with laurels.”
The emperor said this in so sarcastic a tone that the archduke gave a start, and his cheeks crimsoned with indignation. But he restrained his anger, and fixed his eyes calmly on the sneering face of the emperor.
”Your majesty condescends to jest,” he said, composedly, ”and I am glad to see from this that my brother, the victor of Aspern, has gladdened your majesty's heart.”
”Your majesty,” said Count Stadion, in a low, pressing tone, ”will you not graciously permit me to withdraw?”
”Ah, you think your presence would be inconvenient during our interview, and might hinder the free exchange of our confidential communications? But I do not believe that I and my brother have any special secrets to communicate to each other, so that the presence of my minister would be inconvenient to us. However, let the archduke decide this point. Tell me therefore, brother, is it necessary that you should see me alone and without witnesses?”
”On the contrary, your majesty,” said John, calmly, ”it will be agreeable to me if the minister of foreign affairs is present at our interview; for, as your majesty deigned to observe, we never have confidential communications to make to each other, and as we shall speak only of business affairs, the minister may take part in the conversation.”
”Stay, then, count. And now, my esteemed brother, may I take the liberty of asking what induced the commanding-general of my army of Upper Austria, now stationed at Comorn, to leave his post and pay me a friendly visit here at Wolkersdorf?”
”Your majesty, I come to implore my sovereign to graciously fulfil the promise which your majesty vouchsafed to me at Vienna. Your majesty promised me that I should succor with the forces intrusted to me the Tyrolese in their heroic struggle for deliverance from the foreign yoke, and that I might devote all my efforts to aiding this n.o.ble and heroic people, which has risen as one man in order to be incorporated again with Austria. It was I who organized the insurrection of the Tyrol, who appointed the leaders of the peasants, and fixed the day and hour when the insurrection was to break out.”
”Yes, yes, it is true,” interrupted the emperor; ”you proved that you were a skilful and shrewd revolutionist, and it was really fortunate for me that you availed yourself of your revolutionary talents, not AGAINST me, but FOR me. If I shall ever recover full possession of the Tyrol, I shall be indebted for it only to the revolutionary skill of my brother John; and I shall always look upon it as an act of great disinterestedness on your part to leave me the Tyrol, and not keep it for yourself; for it is in your hands, and it is you whom the Tyrolese in their hearts call their real emperor.”
”Your majesty is distrustful of the love of the faithful Tyrolese,”