Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia. L. Muhlbach
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Duroc went away, and soon returned with the answer that his majesty had not been mistaken; it was just a year to-day since the Emperor of Russia arrived in Potsdam.
A faint smile overspread Napoleon's face. "I will occupy the same rooms which Alexander then occupied," he said, passing on.
Duroc hastened back, to give the necessary orders. Napoleon walked down the corridor with ringing, soldier-like footsteps, followed by his marshals, and entered the large portrait-gallery of the Prussian monarchs, who looked down on him with grave eyes.
The emperor paused in the middle of the hall and glanced over the portraits with a gloomy air. "All those men had a high opinion of themselves," he said, in a sullen tone; "they were proud of their high birth and of their royal crown, and yet death has trampled them all in the dust. I will now take upon myself the task of death: I will annihilate this Prussia which dared to take up arms against me, and who knows whether this gallery of Prussian kings will not close with Frederick William III.? Nothing on earth is lasting, and sovereigns now-a-days fall from their thrones as over-ripe apples from trees. The crown of Prussia fell to the ground on the battle-fields of Jena and Auerstadt!"
The portraits of the Prussian rulers looked down silently on the triumphant conqueror, and neither his scornful voice, nor the haughty glances with which he contemplated them, disturbed their tranquillity. Not a voice answered these arrogant and insulting words; the marshals stood silent and respectful, and still seemed to listen to the voice of the oracle which had just announced to the portraits of the royal ancestors of the present king the downfall of their house. But Napoleon's brow, which had momentarily beamed with proud thoughts, was again clouded. Joining his hands on his back, he crossed the hall to the large central window, from which there was a fine and extensive view of the lawn, with its old trees and splendid statues, and beyond, of the Havel and its hilly banks. He gazed gloomily at this landscape, then turned and looked again at the pictures, but only for a moment, as though he would threaten them once more, and make them feel again the angry glance of him who had come to dethrone their descendant and appropriate his crown. Then he fixed his eyes on the portrait of a handsome woman whose large blue eyes seemed to gaze at him, and her crimson lips to greet him with a winning smile. Quite involuntarily, and as if attracted by the beauty of this likeness, he approached and contemplated it long and admiringly.
"Truly," he said, "that is a charming creature. That lady must have been wondrously lovely, and at the same time surpassingly graceful and high-spirited."
"Sire," said Duroc, who had followed him and overheard his words, "sire, she is still wondrously lovely, and, as your majesty says, surpassingly graceful and high-spirited. It is the portrait of Queen Louisa of Prussia."
A dark expression mantled Napoleon's face, and, bending an angry glance on Duroc, he said, "It is well known that you were always foolishly in love with the Queen of Prussia, and, according to your statement, one might believe there was no woman in the whole world so beautiful as she is." He turned his back on the painting and stepped to the next one: "And this, then, doubtless, is Frederick William III.?"
"Yes, sire, it is the portrait of the reigning king."
"Of the reigning king?" repeated the emperor, with a scornful smile. "It is a very good-natured face," he added, looking at the full-sized portrait; "and as I behold his gentle, timid air, I comprehend that he allows himself to be directed by advisers, and follows the will of others rather than his own. But this little King of Prussia is taller than I thought!"
"Sire, he is about as tall as the Grand-duke of Berg," said Duroc.
"As Murat?" asked Napoleon. "It never seemed to me that he was as tall as that. Is not Murat of my own height?"
"No, sire, he is higher than you!"
"You mean he is taller than I," said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders. "Height of stature is of no consequence. Frederick II. was much smaller than his grand-nephew, and yet he was the greatest of Prussia's kings. We will afterward pay him a visit at Sans-souci. Until then, adieu, gentlemen. Come, Duroc, conduct me to the rooms of the Emperor Alexander!"
He greeted the marshals with a quick nod, and then followed Duroc into the long suite of halls and brilliant rooms which, only a year ago, had been newly decorated and furnished with royal magnificence for the reception of the czar.
"These kings and princes 'by the grace of God' live here very pleasantly," muttered Napoleon in an undertone; "they know better how to build and furnish their residences than to preserve them to their children. Well, I am a good architect, and have come to reconstruct the royal palace of Prussia. Do you think, Duroc, those ingrates will thank me for it?"
"They will see that the lion must have his share," said Duroc, "and they will, doubtless, be thankful if any thing is left to them. Sire, here we are in the czar's bedroom! The steward told me every thing was arranged in it precisely the same as in the days when the Russian emperor was here. Nobody has slept in this bed since."
"I must sleep in it," said Napoleon, quickly, "and I believe I shall sleep in the royal Prussian palace, and in the bed of the Russian emperor, as comfortably as I did in the Tuileries and in the bed of Louis XVI."
He threw his small three-cornered hat with a contemptuous gesture on the bed, which was surmounted by a velvet canopy, embroidered with gold, and then, his arms crossed behind him, commenced slowly pacing the room. Duroc dared not disturb him, and turned toward the paintings and engravings hanging on the walls. The emperor walked a long while gravely and musingly; his brow grew more clouded, and he pressed his lips more firmly together. Suddenly he paused before Duroc, and, being alone, spoke to him no longer in the tone of a master, but with the unreservedness of a friend.
"Legitimacy is a terrible power, Duroc," said he, hastily; "it is what I cannot vanquish with all my cannon. Sovereigns and princes know it full well, and that is the reason of their obstinacy. They oppose their ancestors to my victorious eagles, and when, by virtue of my right as conqueror, I enter their palaces and take possession of them, I find there the proud company of their forefathers, who seem to look scornfully down on me, and tell me, 'You are after all but an intruder and usurper, while we are and shall remain here the rightful owners.' I am sick and tired of playing this part of usurper. I shall overthrow all dynasties, expel all legitimate sovereigns—and there shall be no other throne than mine. I shall be at least the first legitimate monarch of the new era!"
"And expelled princes will sit in some nook of your immense empire," said Duroc, laughing, "and sing to the people the same song of legitimacy; and it will be listened to as one of the fairy stories of childhood, in which they believe no more."
"But they shall believe in my legitimacy!" exclaimed Napoleon, quickly. "I will be the first of the Napoleonic sovereigns." His brow was clouded again. "But it is true," he murmured, "in order to found a dynasty, I need a son. I must have legitimate children. It will be no fault of mine if circumstances compel me to divorce Josephine; for I will not, like Alexander of Macedon, conquer exclusively for the benefit of my generals. I need an heir to my empire."
"Sire, you have one in the son of the empress, noble King Eugène."
"No," exclaimed the emperor, gloomily, "the son of the Viscount de Beauharnais cannot be heir to my throne. My blood does not flow in his veins. Oh, why did the young Napoleon die! I had destined him to succeed me, because he was of my blood, and a