Александр Дюма
The Prussian Terror
CHAPTER XXX
THE BREAKING OF THE STORM
The general received Frederic with the same calm and gracious expression as before.
"Excuse me for delaying," he said, "after I was so anxious to speed you; but I have a little service to ask."
Frederic bowed.
"It is about General Manteuffel's subsidy of twenty-five millions of florins. You know about it, don't you?"
"Yes," said Frederic, "and it is a heavy impost for a poor city with some 40,000 inhabitants."
"You mean 72,000," said Sturm.
"No, there are only about 40,000 Frankfortians, the remainder of the 72,000 counted as natives are strangers."
"What does that matter?" said Sturm, becoming impatient. "The statistics say 72,000 and General Manteuffel has made his calculation accordingly."
"But if he has made an error, it seems to me that those who are charged with the execution of his order should point it out."
"That is not our affair. We are told 72,000 inhabitants, and 72,000 there therefore are. We are told 25 million florins, and 25 million florins there are also. That is all! Just fancy! the senators have declared, that we can burn the town, but they will not pay the subsidy."
"I was present," said Frederic quietly, "and the sitting was admirably conducted, with much dignity, calm, and sorrow."
"Ta ta ta ta," said Sturm. "General Manteuffel before leaving gave General Roeder the order to get in these millions. Roeder has ordered the town to pay them. The Senate has chosen to deliberate; that is its own affair. Roeder came round to me about it, it is true; but I told him that it was nothing to worry about. I said. 'The chief of my staff married in Frankfort; he knows the town like his own land, everyone's fortune even to shillings and half-pence. He will indicate five and twenty millionaires.' There are twenty-five of them here, are there not?"
"More than that," answered Frederic.
"Good; we will commence with them, and if there is a balance the others shall supply it."
"And have you reckoned on me to give you the names?"
"Certainly. All I require is twenty-five names and five and twenty addresses. Sit down there, my dear fellow, and write them out."
Frederic sat down, took a pen and wrote;
"Honour obliging me to decline to denounce my fellow citizens, I beg the illustrious Generals von Roeder and Sturm to obtain the desired information elsewhere than from myself.
"Frankfort, July 22nd, 1866."FREDERIC BARON VON BÜLOW."
Then, rising and bowing low, he put the paper in the general's hands.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Read, it, general," said Frederic.
The general read it, and gave his chief of the staff a side glance.
"Ah! ah!" he said, "I see how I am answered when I ask a favour; let me see how I am answered when I command. Sit there and write – "
"Order me to charge a battery, and I will do it, but do not order me to become a tax collector."
"I have promised General Roeder to get him the names and addresses and have told him that you will supply them. He will send for the list directly. What am I to say to him?"
"You will tell him that I have refused to give it."
Sturm crossed his arms and approached Frederic.
"And do you think that I will allow a man under my orders to refuse me anything?"
"I think you will reflect that you gave me not only an unjust but a dishonouring order and you will appreciate the reason of my refusal. Let me go, general, and call a police officer; he will not refuse you, for it will be all in his work."
"Baron," replied Sturm, "I considered I was sending the king a good servant for whom I asked a reward. I cannot reward a man of whom I have to complain. Give me back His Majesty's letter."
Frederic disdainfully tossed the letter on the table. The general's face grew purple, livid marks appeared upon it, his eyes flamed.
"I will write to the king," he cried furiously, "and he will learn how his officers serve him."
"Write your account, sir, and I will write mine," answered Frederic, "and he will see how his generals dishonour him."
Sturm rushed and seized his horsewhip.
"You have said dishonoured, sir. You will not repeat the word, I trust?"
"Dishonoured," said Frederic coldly.
Sturm gave a cry of rage and raised his whip to strike his young officer, but observing Frederic's complete calm he let it fall.
"Who threatens strikes, sir," Frederic answered, "and it is as if you had struck me."
He turned to the table and wrote a few lines. Then he opened the door of the ante-room and calling the officers who were there:
"Gentlemen, he said, I confide this paper to your loyalty. Read what it says aloud."
"I tender my resignation as chief of General Sturm's staff and officer in the Prussian army.
"Dated at noon July 22nd, 1866."FREDERIC VON BÜLOW."
"Which means?" asked Sturm.
"Which means that I am no longer in His Majesty's service nor in yours, and that you have insulted me. Gentlemen, this man raised his horsewhip over me. And having insulted me, you owe me reparation. Keep my resignation, gentlemen, and bear witness that I am free from all military duty at the moment I tell this man that he is no longer my chief, and consequently that I am not his inferior. Sir, you have injured me mortally, and I will kill you, or you will kill me."
Sturm burst out laughing.
"You give your resignation," he said, "well, I do not accept it. Place yourself in confinement. Sir," said he, stamping his foot and walking towards Frederic, "to prison for fifteen days with you."
"You have no longer the right to give me an order," said Frederic, detaching his epaulettes.
Sturm, exasperated, livid, foaming at the mouth, again raised his whip upon the chief of his staff, but this time he slashed his cheek and shoulder with it. Frederic, who until now had held himself in, uttered a cry of rage, made a bound aside and drew his sword.
"Imbecile," shouted Sturm, with a burst of laughter, "you will be shot after a court martial."
At this Frederic lost his head completely and threw himself upon the general, but he found four officers in his path. One whispered to him: "Save yourself; we will calm him."
"And I," said Frederic, "I who have been struck; who will calm me?"
"We give you our word of honour that we have not seen the blow," said the officers.
"But I have felt it. And as I have given my word of honour that one of us must die, I must act accordingly. Adieu, gentlemen."
Two of the officers trying to follow him:
"Thunders and tempests! gentlemen," called the general after them. "Come back; no one leaves this room except this madman who will be arrested by the provost marshal."
The officers came back hanging their heads. Frederic burst out of the room. The first person he met on the stairs was the old Baroness von Beling.
"Gracious heavens! what are you doing with a drawn sword?" she asked.
He put the sword in its scabbard. Then he ran to his wife and embraced her and the baby.
Ten minutes later an explosion was heard in Frederic's room. Benedict, who was with Karl, rushed to it and burst open the door.
Frederic was lying on the floor dead, his forehead shattered by a bullet. He had left this note on the table:
"Struck in the face by General Sturm, who has refused to give me satisfaction, I could not live dishonoured. My last wish is that my wife in her widow's dress should leave this evening for Berlin, and there beg from Her Majesty the Queen the remission of the subsidy of twenty-five million florins, which the town as I testify is unable to pay.
My friend, Benedict Turpin, will, I know, avenge me.
"FREDERIC, BARON VON BÜLOW."
Benedict had just time to read this when he turned at a cry behind him. It was from the poor widow.
Benedict, leaving Emma in her mother's care, went to his room and wrote four notes, each in these terms:
"Baron Frederic von Bülow has just shot himself in consequence of the insult offered him by General Sturm, who has refused to give him satisfaction. His body lies in the house of the Chandroz family, and his friends are invited to pay their last respects there.
"His executor,
"BENEDICT TURPIN.
"P.S. – You are asked to make the news of his death known as widely and publicly as possible."
Having signed them he sent them by Hans to four of Frederic's most intimate friends. Then he went down to General Sturm's rooms and sent in his name.
The name, "Benedict Turpin," was entirely unknown to General Sturm; he had with him the officers who had witnessed the quarrel with Frederic, and at once said: "Ask him to come in." Although he knew nothing of what had passed the general's face plainly showed traces of furious passion.
Benedict came in.
"Sir," he said, "probably you are ignorant of the sequel to the occurrence between you and my friend, Frederic von Bülow – the incident which led to your insult. I have to inform you that my friend, since you refused to give him satisfaction, has blown out his brains."
The general started in spite of himself. The officers, dismayed, looked at each other.
"My friend's last wishes are recorded on this piece of paper. I will read them."
The general, seized with nervous tremor, sat down.
Benedict read, speaking courteously and calmly.
"Struck in the face by General Sturm, who has refused to give me satisfaction, I could not live dishonoured."
"You hear me, sir?" Benedict asked.
The general made a sign of assent.
"My last wish is that my wife in her widow's dress should leave this evening for Berlin, and there beg from Her Majesty the Queen the remission of the subsidy of twenty-five million florins which the town, as I testify, is unable to pay."
"I have the honour to inform you, sir," added Benedict, "that I am going to conduct Madame von Bülow to Berlin."
General Sturm got up.
"One moment," said Benedict. "There is a final line to read, and you will see it is of some importance."
"My friend, Benedict Turpin, will, I know, avenge me."
"Which means, sir?" said, the general, while the officers stood breathlessly by.
"Which means, that you shall hear from me immediately respecting the time and place and weapons, for I mean to kill you and so avenge Frederic von Bülow."
And Benedict, saluting first the general and then the young officers, left the room before they had recovered from their surprise.
When he gained the other room, Emma, who had read her husband's last words, was already making her preparations for her journey to Berlin.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE BURGOMASTER
Two things had principally struck Sturm in Frederic's short will. First; the legacy to Benedict of vengeance; but we must do him the justice to say that this was a minor consideration. There is an unfortunate error amongst military men that courage is only to be found under a uniform, and that one must have seen death at close quarters in order not to fear it. Now we know that Benedict in this respect was on a level with the bravest soldier. Under whatever aspect he encountered death, whether it might be at the point of the bayonet, by the talons of a tiger, the trunk of an elephant, or the poisonous fang of a serpent; still it was death – the farewell to sunshine, life, love; to all that is glorious and all that makes the breast beat high; and in its place, that dark mystery which we call the grave. But Sturm did not recognize the threat of death, for he was protected by his individual temperament and character from perceiving it. He could only recognize an actual menace accompanied by shouts, gesticulations, threats, and oaths. And Benedict's extreme politeness gave him no idea of serious danger. He supposed, as all vulgarians do, that any one who goes duelling with the courtesy of the ordinary forms of life is arming at preserving by his politeness a means of retreat.
Therefore Frederic's legacy to Benedict troubled him little. But it was also prescribed that Madame von Bülow should start for Berlin to beg of the queen the remission of the fine imposed upon Frankfort. He decided to see General von Roeder without a moment's delay and tell him what had occurred.
He found Roeder furious at the Senate's decision. After listening to Sturm he determined to have recourse again to his old tactics. He took a pen and wrote:
"To Herren Fellner and Müller, burgomasters of Frankfort and government administrators.
"I have to request you to supply me by ten o'clock to-morrow morning with a list of the names and addresses of all members of the Senate, of the permanent house of representation, and of the Legislative Assembly, house-property owners being identified as such.
"VON ROEDER.
"P.S. – Scales for weighing gold are waiting at General von Roeder's address. An answer to this despatch is requested."
Then he directed an orderly to deliver the document to Fellner as the senior burgomaster. Fellner was not at home. He had just received Benedict's sad tidings; and being one of Frederic's most intimate friends had hastened to the Chandroz' house, telling the news to all whom he met on the way.
In less time than it takes to relate, the fact of Frederic's death burst upon the town, and its leading citizens, scarcely able to credit it, flocked to the room where his body lay.
Fellner was astonished at not seeing Emma; heard that she had gone to Berlin, and was asking the cause of this incomprehensible step when Councillor Kugler burst in, General Roeder's letter in his hand. Fellner opened it at once, read it, meditated; and approaching the bier gazed at his dead friend. After a few seconds of contemplation, he stooped, kissed the forehead, and murmured: "It is not only the soldier who knows how to die."
Then he slowly left the house, crossed the town with bent head, reached the house and shut himself up in his room. Supper time came. Supper is an important meal in Germany. It is the cheerful repast, at which, in commercial towns especially, the head of the family has time to enjoy the society of his wife and children; for dinner at two o'clock is only an interval hastily snatched in business hours. But by eight, o'clock business people have thrown off their harness; the hour of domestic pleasure has come. Before refreshing sleep descends to prepare men for another day there is an interval in which to enjoy all that they hold dear within the four walls of home.
Nothing of the sort was possible on this evening of July 22nd at the Fellners'. The burgomaster showed perhaps even more than his customary fondness for his children, but it was touched with melancholy. His wife, whose gaze never left him, was unable to speak a word; tears stood in her eyes. The elder children observing their mother's sadness sat silent; and the little ones' voices like the chirping of birds, drew for the first time no smiling response from their parents.
Herr von Kugler was mournful. He was one of those men who act promptly and vigorously, without deviating from the straight course of honour. No doubt he had already said to himself: "Were I in his place, this is what I should do."
Supper dragged on. All seemed reluctant to rise from the table. The children had dropped asleep, no summons having come from the nurse. At last, Mina, the eldest girl, went to the piano to close it for the night and unconsciously touched the keys.
The burgomaster shivered.
"Come Mina," he said, "play Weber's 'Last Thought'; you know it's my favourite."
Mina began to play, and the pure melancholy notes poured forth like golden beads dropped on a salver of crystal. The burgomaster propped his bowed head in his hands as he listened to that sweet poetic melody, the final note of which expired like the last sigh of an angel exiled to earth.
Fellner rose and kissed the girl. She exclaimed in alarm:
"What is the matter with you, father? you are crying."
"I?" said Fellner quickly. "What nonsense, my child," and he tried to smile.
"Oh!" murmured Mina, "you can say what you like, father, but I felt a tear; and see," she added, "my cheek is wet."
Fellner put a hand on her mouth. Mina kissed it.
At this the father nearly gave way, but Kugler murmured in his ear:
"Be a man, Fellner!" He grasped his brother-in-law's hand.
Eleven o'clock struck – never except for a dance or evening party had the family sat up so late. Fellner kissed his wife and the children.
"But, surely you are not going out?" said Madame Fellner.
"No, my dear."
"Your kiss was like a goodbye."
"Goodbye for a little while," said the burgomaster, trying to smile. "Don't be uneasy, I am going to work with your brother, that is all."
Madame Fellner looked at her brother and he gave a sign of assent. Her husband took her to her bed-room door:
"Go to sleep, dear one," he said, "we have much work before us that must be done before morning." She stood where she was until she had seen him enter her brother's room.
Madame Fellner spent the night in prayer. This simple woman, whose only eloquence was to say "I love you," found words to implore God for her husband. She prayed so long and ardently, that at length sleep came to her where she knelt; for great was her need of it.
When she opened her eyes the first light of the dawn was filtering through the window blinds. Everything seems strange, fantastic, at such an hour. It is neither night nor day and nothing looks as it does at any other time. She gazed around. She felt weak and chilly and afraid. She glanced at the bed – her husband was not there. She rose, but everything danced before her eyes. "Is it possible," she thought, "that sleep overtook him also while he worked? I must go to him." And, groping her way through the passages, which were darker than her own room, she reached his. She knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked louder, but all was silent. A third time she knocked and called her husband's name.
Then, trembling with anguish, under a premonition of the sight that awaited her, she pushed open the door. Between her and the window, black against the sun's first rays, hung her husband's body suspended above an overturned chair.
CHAPTER XXXII
QUEEN AUGUSTA
All through the night that was so sorrowful for the Fellner family the Baroness von Bülow was travelling rapidly to Berlin, where she arrived about eight o'clock in the morning.
In any other circumstances she would have written to the queen, asked for an audience, and fulfilled all the requirements of etiquette. But there was no time to lose; General von Roeder had allowed only four-and-twenty hours for the payment of the indemnity. It was due at ten o'clock, and in case of refusal the city was threatened with immediate pillage and bombardment. Notices at the corners of all the streets proclaimed that at ten o'clock on the morrow the general with his staff would be waiting in the old Senate Hall to receive the levy. There was, indeed, not a moment to lose.
On leaving the train, therefore, Madame von Bülow took a cab and drove straight to the Little Palace, where the queen had been living since the beginning of the war. There Madame von Bülow asked for the chamberlain, Waals, who, as has been said already, was a friend of her husband's; he came instantly, and seeing her dressed all in black, cried out:
"Good God! has Frederic been killed?"
"He has not been killed, my dear count, he has killed himself," answered the baroness, "and I want to see the queen without a moment's delay."
The chamberlain made no objections. He knew how highly the king valued Frederic; he knew, also, that the queen was acquainted with his widow. He hastened to go and beg the desired audience. Queen Augusta is known throughout Germany for her extreme kindness and her distinguished intelligence. No sooner had she heard from her chamberlain that Emma had come, dressed in mourning, probably to implore some favour, than she exclaimed:
"Bring her in! Bring her in!"
Madame von Bülow was immediately summoned and, as she left the room in which she had been waiting, she saw the door of the royal apartments open and Queen Augusta waiting for her in the doorway. Without advancing another step the baroness bent one knee to the ground. She tried to speak, but the only words that escaped her lips were:
"Oh, Your Majesty!"
The queen came to her and raised her up.
"What do you want, my dear baroness?" she asked. "What brings you, and why are you in mourning?"
"I am in mourning, Your Majesty, for a man and for a city very dear to me, for my husband who is dead, and for my native city which is at death's door."
"Your husband is dead! Poor child! Waals told me so, and he added that he had killed himself. What can have driven him to such a deed? Some injustice must have been done him. Speak, and we will redress it."
"It is not that which brings me, madam; I am not the person to whom my husband has left the duty of avenging him; in that respect I need only leave God's will and his to take their course; what brings me, madam, is the despair of my city upon whose ruin your armies, or rather your generals, seem to be resolved."
"Come, my child, and tell me about it," said the queen.
She led Emma into her drawing-room and seated herself beside her; but Emma slipped from the sofa and knelt once more before the queen.
"Madam, you know the city of Frankfort."
"I was there last year," said the queen, "and had the kindest possible reception."
"May the remembrance of it help my words! General Falkenstein when he came to our city began by laying upon it a tax of seven million florins; that levy was paid, together with one, about equally heavy, in kind. That made fourteen millions already, for a small town of seventy-two thousand inhabitants, half of whom were foreigners, and consequently did not contribute to the payment."
"And did Frankfort pay it?" asked the queen.
"Frankfort paid it, madam, for that was still possible. But General Manteuffel arrived and put on a tax, in his turn, of twenty-five million florins. Such a tax, if imposed upon eighteen million subjects, madam, would yield more milliards of coin than the whole world contains. Well, and at this very hour cannon are planted in the streets and on the positions that command the town. If the sum is not paid at ten o'clock to-day – and it will not be paid, madam, it is impossible – the city will be bombarded and given over to pillage, a neutral unwalled city, which has no gates, which has not defended itself and cannot defend itself."
"And how comes it, my child," asked the queen, "that you, a woman, have taken upon yourself to ask justice for this city? It has a Council."
"It has one no longer, madam; the Council has been dissolved, and two of the councillors arrested."
"And the burgomasters?"
"They do not dare to take any step for fear of being shot. God is my witness, madam, that I did not put myself forward to come and plead for that unhappy city. It was my dying husband who said to me 'Go!' and I came."
"But what can be done?" said the queen.
"Your Majesty needs no adviser but your heart. But, I repeat, if by ten o'clock to-day, no counter-order comes from the king, Frankfort is lost."
"If only the king were here," said the queen.
"Thanks to the telegraph, Your Majesty knows that there are no distances now. A telegram from Your Majesty can receive an answer in half-an-hour, and in another half-hour that answer can be sent to Frankfort."
"You are right," said Queen Augusta as she went towards a little bureau loaded with papers.
She wrote:
"To His Majesty the King of Prussia."BERLIN, July 23rd, 1866.
"Sire, I approach you to entreat humbly and earnestly that the indemnity of twenty-five million florins arbitrarily imposed upon the city of Frankfort, which has already paid fourteen millions in money and in kind, may be withdrawn.
"Your very humble servant and affectionate wife,
"AUGUSTA.
"P.S. Please reply immediately."
She handed the paper to Emma who read and returned it. Herr von Waals was summoned and came instantly.
"Take this telegram to the telegraph office and wait for the answer. And you, my child," continued the queen, "let us think about you. You must be worn out, you must be starving."
"Oh, madam!"
A second time the queen touched her bell.
"Bring my breakfast here," said she; "the baroness will take some with me."
A collation was brought in, which the baroness scarcely touched. At every footstep she started, believing it to be that of Herr von Waals. At length hurried steps were heard, the door opened and Herr von Waals appeared, holding a telegram in his hand.
Emma, forgetful of the queen's presence, rushed towards him, but paused half-way, ashamed.
"Oh, madam, forgive me," said she.
"No, no," replied the queen, "take it and read it."
Emma, trembling, opened the despatch, glanced at it and uttered a cry of joy. It contained these words:
"At the request of our beloved consort, the indemnity of twenty-five million florins levied by General Manteuffel is countermanded. WILLIAM."
"Well," said the queen, "to whom should this despatch be sent in order that it may arrive in time? You, dear child, are the person who has obtained this favour, and the honour of it ought to rest with you. You say it is important that the king's decision should be known in Frankfort by ten o'clock. Tell me to what person it should be addressed."
"Indeed, madam, I do not know how to make any answer to so much kindness," said the baroness, kneeling and kissing the queen's hands. "I know that the proper person to whom to send it would be the burgomaster; but who can tell whether the burgomaster may not have fled or be in prison? I think the safest way – excuse my egoism, madam – but if you do me the honour of consulting me, I would beg that it may be addressed to Madame von Beling, my grandmother; she, very certainly, will not lose a moment in putting it into the proper hands."
"What you wish shall be done, my dear child," said the queen, and she added to the despatch:
"This favour has been granted to Queen Augusta by her gracious consort, King William; but it was asked of the queen by her faithful friend, Baroness Frederic von Bülow, her principal lady-in-waiting."
"AUGUSTA."
The queen raised Emma from her knees, kissed her, unfastened from her own shoulder the Order of Queen Louisa and fastened it on the baroness's shoulder.
"As for you," she said, "you need some hours' rest, and you shall not go until you have taken them."
"I beg Your Majesty's pardon," replied the baroness, "but two persons are waiting for me, my husband and my child."
Nevertheless, as no train left until one in the afternoon, and as the hour could neither be hastened nor retarded, Emma resigned herself to waiting.
The queen gave orders that she should receive the same attentions as though she were already a lady-in-waiting, made her take a bath and some hours' rest, and engaged a carriage for her in the train for Frankfort.
That city, meanwhile, was in consternation. General Roeder, with his staff, was waiting in the Council Hall for the payment required; scales were ready for the weighing. At nine o'clock the gunners, match alight and in hand, came to take their places at the batteries.
The deepest terror prevailed throughout the town. From the arrangements which they saw being made, the Frankforters judged that no mercy was to be expected from the Prussian generals. The whole population was shut up indoors waiting anxiously for the stroke of ten o'clock to announce the town's doom.
All at once a terrible rumour began to circulate, that the burgomaster, rather than denounce his fellow-citizens, had ended his life – had hanged himself. At a few minutes before ten, a man dressed in black came out of Herr Fellner's house; it was his brother-in-law, Herr von Kugler, and he held in his hand a rope. He walked straight on, without speaking to anybody, or stopping till he reached the Roemer, pushed aside with his arm the sentinels who attempted to prevent his passing, and, entering the hall in which General von Roeder was presiding, he advanced to the scales and threw into one of them the rope that he had been carrying.
"There," said he, "is the ransom of the city of Frankfort."
"What does this mean?" asked General von Roeder.
"This means that, rather than obey you, Burgomaster Fellner hanged himself with this rope. May his death fall upon the heads of those who caused it."
"But," returned General von Roeder brutally, while he continued to smoke his cigar, "the indemnity must be paid all the same."
"Unless," quietly said Benedict Turpin, who had just come in, "King William should withdraw it from the city of Frankfort."
And, unfolding the despatch that Madame von Beling had just received, he read the whole of it in a loud voice to General von Roeder.
"Sir," said he, "I advise you to put the twenty-five million florins into your profit and loss account. I have the honour to leave you the despatch as a voucher."
