Napoleon and Blucher | Page 4

National Representatives

WAR AND AN ARMISTICE.
XXVI. Theodore Korner XXVII. The Heroic Tailor XXVIII. The General-in-Chief of the Silesian Army XXIX. The Ball at the City Hall of Breslau XXX. The Appointment XXXI. After the Battle of Bautzen XXXII. Bad News XXXIII. The Traitors XXXIV. Napoleon and Metternich

DELIVERANCE OF GERMANY.
XXXV. On the Katzbach XXXVI. Blucher as a Writer XXXVII. The Revolt of the Generals XXXVIII. The Battle of Leipsic XXXIX. The Nineteenth of October

HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS.
XL. Blucher's Birthday XLI. Passage of the Rhine XLII. Napoleon's New-Year's-Day XLIII. The King of Rome XLIV. Josephine XLV. Talleyrand XLVI. Madame Letitia

FALL OF PARIS.
XLVII. The Battle of La Rothiere XLVIII. The Diseased Eyes XLIX. On to Paris! L. Departure of Maria Louisa LI. The Capitulation of Paris LII. Night and Morning near Paris LIII. Napoleon at Fontainebleau LIV. A Soul in Purgatory

NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER.

NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN.
CHAPTER I
.
FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG.
It was a fine, warm day in May, 1812. The world was groaning under the yoke of Napoleon's tyranny. As a consolation for the hopeless year, came the laughing spring. Fields, forests, and meadows, were clad in beautiful verdure; flowers were blooming, and birds were singing everywhere--even at Charlottenburg, which King Frederick William formerly delighted to call his "pleasure palace," but which now was his house of mourning. At Charlottenburg, Frederick William had spent many and happy spring days with Queen Louisa; and when she was with him at this country-seat, it was indeed a pleasure palace.
The noble and beautiful queen was also now at Charlottenburg, but the king only felt her presence--he beheld her no more. Her merry remarks and charming laughter had ceased, as also her sighs and suffering; her radiant eyes had closed forever, and her sweet lips spoke no more. She was still at Charlottenburg, but only as a corpse. The king had her mausoleum erected in the middle of the garden. Here lay her coffin, and room had been left for another, as Frederick William intended to repose one day at the side of his Louisa.
From the time that the queen's remains had been deposited there-- from that day of anguish and tears--the king called Charlottenburg no longer his "pleasure palace." It was henceforth a tomb, where his happiness and love were buried. Still, he liked to remain there, for it seemed to him as though he felt the presence of the spirit of his blessed queen, and understood better what she whispered to his soul in the silent nights when she consoled him, and spoke of heaven and a renewed love. The bereaved husband, however, did not prefer to dwell in the magnificent abode of his ancestors, where he had formerly passed in spring so many happy days with his beloved Louisa. He had, therefore, a small house near the palace; it was into this plain and humble structure that he had retired with his grief-stricken heart. Here, in his solitude, he had already passed two springs.
The second year had nearly elapsed since the queen's death, and Frederick William's heart was still overburdened with sorrow, but yet he had learned what time teaches all mortals--he had learned to be resigned. Yes, resignation in these melancholy days was the only thing that remained to the unfortunate King of Prussia. It was a sad and difficult duty, for he had lost happiness, love, greatness, and even his royal independence. It is true, he was still called King of Prussia, but he was powerless. He had to bow to the despotic will of Napoleon, and scarcely a shadow of his former greatness had been left him. The days of Tilsit had not yet brought disgrace and humiliation enough upon him. The Emperor of the French had added fresh exactions, and his arrogance became daily more reckless and intolerable. In the face of such demands it only remained for Frederick William to submit or resist. He looked mournfully at his unhappy country, at those whom the last war had deprived of their husbands and fathers; at his small army; at the scanty means at his disposal, compared with the resources of Napoleon, and--the king submitted.
He had indeed hesitated long, and struggled strongly with his own feelings. For, by submitting to Napoleon's behests, he was to become the open enemy of the Emperor Alexander, and the King of Prussia was, jointly with the Emperor of the French, to arm against the Emperor of Russia. It was a terrible necessity for Frederick William to sacrifice his friend to his enemy, and at the very moment when Alexander had offered his hand for a new league, and proposed to conclude an offensive and defensive alliance with Prussia and England.
But such an alliance with distant Russia could not strengthen Prussia against neighboring France, whose armies were encamped near her frontiers. The danger of being crushed by Napoleon was much