Then she stood still before her writing-table, and looked angrily at von Stielow's portrait.
"Why did you come into my life," she cried, "to rob me of my peace, and to make me purchase a few hours' happiness with such frightful tortures?"
Her looks rested long on the portrait. Slowly and gradually the angry expression passed from her features; a mild, sorrowful light shone in her eyes.
"And my short happiness was so fair," she whispered. "Is it then possible that those true eyes could lie? Is it possible that at the very time---"
She sank into a chair near her table, and half involuntarily following the sweet habit of the last short time, she opened an ebony casket, enriched with mother-o'-pearl and gold.
In this casket were the letters her lover had written to her from the camp. They were all short, hurried notes, many of them very dirty from the numerous hands they had passed through before they reached her. She knew them all by heart, those love greetings that said so little and yet so much, that she had waited for with such longing, that she had received with such exulting joy, that she had read and read again with such happiness.
Mechanically she took one of the letters, and allowed her eyes slowly to follow the lines.
Then she threw away the paper with a movement of horror.
"And with the same hand," she cried, "with which he wrote these words--" She did not finish the sentence, but gazed gloomily before her.
"But is it true?" she cried, suddenly; "can it not be malice, envy? Oh, I knew that this woman was once no stranger to him. I have not seen the writings side by side to compare them. Good heavens!" she cried, with horror, "that wretched letter lies in the drawing-room; if one of the servants----" And hastily springing up, she hurried from the room, glided swiftly through the intervening apartments, reached the drawing-room, and advanced at once to the table where the fatal letter lay between two vases of flowers upon some tapestry work.
The sound of her footsteps aroused the young officer from his reverie. He rose hastily from his half-recumbent position, in which he had been completely concealed by the high back of the chair, and he saw her his dreams had pictured standing really before him, her face expressing indescribable agitation.
It would be impossible to find words to tell the feelings that passed through the young girl's mind in one moment. Her heart beat high with joyful surprise when she saw her lover so unexpectedly; but the next instant bitter sorrow rushed upon her as she remembered she was for ever separated from the happiness that had been hers. Her thoughts grew indistinct, she had neither the strength to speak nor to withdraw, she stood motionless, her large dilated eyes fixed upon him whom she so unexpectedly beheld.
With one bound the young man was beside her, he opened his arms as if about to embrace her, but quickly recollecting himself, he sank down on one knee, seized her hand, which she yielded involuntarily, and impressed upon it a long, warm, and affectionate kiss.
"Here, sweet joy of my heart, star of my love," he cried, "here is your true knight again; your talisman has been my protection; the holy light of my star was stronger than all the threatening clouds that surrounded me."
And with bright eyes, filled with happiness, love, and adoring admiration, he looked up at her.
She gazed at him, but there was no expression in her widely opened eyes, it seemed as if all her blood had flowed back to her heart, as if all her ideas, all her powers of will, were banished by the overwhelming feelings of the last few moments.
He was rejoiced at this motionless silence, which he ascribed to surprise at his sudden return, and he said:
"General Gablenz has been sent for by the emperor, and he brought me here, so that I greet my darling sooner than I expected!" And taking from his uniform a gold case set with a C in brilliants, he added with a happy smile, "here is the talisman from my lady's hand, which preserved me through every danger; it has rested on my heart, and it can tell you that its every beat has been true to my love."
He opened the case, and in the interior, upon blue velvet beneath a glass setting, lay a faded rose.
"Now," he cried, "I need the dead talisman no longer, I see my living rose blooming before me!"
He stood up, gently laid his arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss upon her brow.
A slight shudder passed through her, her eyes sparkled with anger and contempt, a brilliant red glowed on her cheeks.
With a hasty movement she tore herself free.
"Baron," she cried, "I must beg--you surprise me!"
She stammered; her lips trembled, she could not find words to express what she thought and felt, she could not say what she wished to say.
After a moment's silence she turned to leave the room.
The young officer stood as if struck by lightning, her strange words, the expression on her face, told him that something must have taken place to cause a breach between him and his love, but it was impossible for him to form any clear idea as to what it could be, and he looked at her in blank amazement. But when she turned to leave him and had actually reached the door, he stretched out both his arms towards her, and cried in a voice so full of love and regret, of grief and inquiry, that it could only proceed from the deepest and truest feeling, "Clara!"
She started at this voice, which found an echo in her heart, she stood still, her strength left her, she tottered.
He was beside her in a moment, he supported her, and led her to an easy-chair, in which he gently placed her.
Then he knelt before her and cried in an imploring tone, "For God's sake, Clara, what has happened, what distresses you?"
She held her handkerchief before her eyes and wept, struggling violently for composure.
The door opened, and Countess Frankenstein entered.
She looked at the scene before her in utter amazement.
Herr von Stielow sprang to his feet.
"Countess!" he cried, "can you explain the riddle I find here--what has happened to Clara?" The countess looked at him with grave severity.
"I did not expect you to-day, Herr von Stielow," she said, "or I should have given orders for you to be told at once that my daughter is suffering, and very unwell. We must leave Vienna for a long time; and I think under the circumstances it would be better to annul the plans we had formed for the future. My child," she said, turning to her daughter who sat still, weeping quietly, "go to your room."
"Clara ill?" cried the young man in the greatest alarm. "My God, how long has this been so? but no, no, something else has happened. I beg you----"
Suddenly the young countess stood up. She raised her head proudly, fixing her eyes firmly on Herr von Stielow, then turning to her mother she said,--
"Chance, or rather Providence has brought him here, there shall be truth between us; I at least will not be guilty of the sin of falsehood." And before the countess could say a word she had walked to the table with a firm step, seized the letter still lying there, and with a movement full of proud dignity handed it to the young officer. Then she again burst into tears and threw herself into her mother's arms.
Herr von Stielow glanced at the paper.
A deep blush overspread his face.
He ran his eyes hastily over the writing, then casting his eyes on the ground, he said:
"I do not know how this letter came here, yet I thought, from a few words Clara once said, that she knew of an error into which I fell: I thought that in spite of the past she gave me her heart, and I cannot understand----"
Clara rose and looked at him with flaming eyes.
"In spite of the past!" she cried; "yes, because I believed your word, that all this past was at an end; I did not know that this past was to share my present!"
"But, my God!" exclaimed Herr von Stielow, looking at her with great surprise, "I do not understand; how can this old letter----"
"An old letter?" said the Countess Frankenstein severely, "it is a week old."
"It bears the date of your last letter to me!" cried Clara.
Herr von Stielow looked at the paper with amazement.
His eyes opened widely. He stared blankly at the letter which he held motionless before him.
At last he turned to the ladies with sparkling eyes, and a face much heightened in colour.
"I know not what demon has been at work--I know not who desires to tear asunder two hearts that God destined for each other. Countess," he said, "you owe me the truth, I demand who gave you this paper?"
Clara's eyes were fixed anxiously on the young man's face, her bosom rose and fell.
The face of the countess expressed the repugnance she had felt during the whole conversation; she replied coldly:
"Your word of honour to be silent!"
"I give it," said Herr von Stielow.
"Then," said the countess, "this letter accidentally fell into the hands of this lady's husband, and he----"
"Deceit! shameful deceit!" cried von Stielow, half angrily, half joyfully, "I do not yet quite see through it, but be it as it may, countess--Clara--this letter is a year old; see, if you look closely, the date is freshly written. This is a scandalous intrigue!"
He handed the letter to the countess.
She did not hold out her hand to take it. She looked at the young man coldly. In Clara's eyes gleamed a ray of hope; it is so easy to a loving heart to believe and to trust.
Herr von Stielow threw down the paper.
"You are right, countess," he cried, drawing himself up proudly; "such proofs are for lawyers!"
Then he approached Clara, knelt on one knee before her, drew the case with the faded rose from his uniform, and placed his hand upon it.
"Clara," he said in an earnest loving voice that came from the depth of his soul, "by the holy remembrance of the first hours of our love, by this talisman, which has been with me through all the dangers of battle, I swear;--this letter was written a year ago, before I ever saw you." He raised his hand and lightly touched her breast with his finger point. "By your own pure noble heart I swear that no thought of this erring meteor, whose rays once led me astray, has ever dwelt within me, since your love arose to be the pure star of my life--your love to which I will be true to death!"
He stood up.
"Countess," he said in a calm grave voice, "I give you my word of honour as a nobleman; by the name which my ancestors have borne with honour from generation to generation for centuries, by my sword which I used in those dreadful days without reproach, against the enemies of Austria--the date of this letter is false. Since Clara gave me her love I have never exchanged a syllable with this woman, I have never thought of her, except in repentant remembrance of a past error! I do not ask if you believe my word," he proceeded, "a Countess Frankenstein cannot doubt the word of an Austrian nobleman, nor think he would purchase a life's happiness by a lie. But I ask you," he said in a warmer tone, turning to Countess Clara, whose eyes were beaming with happiness, "I ask you if you believe my heart is yours without reserve or doubt? if now that the past is unveiled between us, and we have spoken of it, you will continue to be the star of my life, or whether in darkness I must pursue a solitary path, which my hopes once promised should be full of sunshine and flowers?"
With downcast eyes he waited in silence.
The young countess looked at him with the deepest love. A smile of happiness hovered on her lips. With a light step she glided towards him; stood still before him, and with a charming movement held out her hand.
He raised his eyes, and saw her gentle sparkling looks, her lovely smile, her slight blush. He opened his arms quickly and she leaned against him, and hid her face on his breast.
The countess looked at the beautiful pair with a mild and happy smile, and a long silence prevailed in the lofty room.
But the old clock measured these moments with its calm pendulum, the moments follow each other with eternal regularity, and never change for the short joys and long sorrows which form the life of man on earth.
When Clara returned to her room late in the evening, she laid the golden case with the faded rose at the foot of the crucifix, and now her prayers went up as lightly winged to heaven as the perfume of spring flowers, and in her heart as pure and wondrous melodies arose, as the song of praise of the angels who surround the throne of eternal love.
In a large well-lighted cabinet of his palace in St. Petersburg, before an enormous table covered with heaps of papers, which, notwithstanding their number, were evidently in exemplary order, sat the vice-chancellor of the Russian empire, Prince Alexander Gortschakoff.
Although it was still early morning, the prince was carefully dressed. He wore a black frock coat, unbuttoned and thrown back on account of the heat, over under-clothes of some white summer material. The fine intelligent face, with its expression of suppressed irony about the mouth, and with short, grey hair, was buried behind a high black cravat and tall linen collar, and the eyes that usually looked out so keenly, so prudently, with such good-tempered, almost roguish humour, through their gold-rimmed spectacles, gazed into the young day displeased and discontented.
Before the prince stood his confidential secretary, Monsieur von Hamburger; a slender man, of the middle height, with an open, intelligent expression, and lively, clever eyes.
He was in the act of bringing before the prince various personal affairs, without any connexion to diplomacy. Before him, on the prince's table, lay a large packet of acts and papers.
He had just ended a report, and with a pencil he held in his hand he noted down the minister's resolution on its contents. Then he laid the paper on the large pile of acts, took it up from the table and bowed, to show that his business was concluded.
The prince looked at him with some surprise.
"Have you finished?" he asked shortly.
"At your command, Excellency."
"You have a heap of things you are taking away again?" said the prince, glancing at the thick packet von Hamburger held beneath his arm.
"I shall have the honour of bringing these matters before you on some future day," said the secretary.
"Why not to-day? You have been here but a quarter of an hour, and we have still time!" said the minister, with a slight accent of impatience in his voice.
Monsieur von Hamburger allowed his quick eyes to rest for a moment on the prince's face in silence, then he said calmly, with a slight smile,--
"Your Excellency must, I fear, have passed a bad night, and you feel in no gracious mood. I have, besides these reports, various matters which, on the ground of justice and courtesy, it is very desirable to consider in a friendly spirit before presenting them to his majesty the emperor. I think your Excellency will be angry with me by-and-bye if I expose these affairs to the reception that at the present moment seems probable."
The prince looked at him for a moment firmly through his gold spectacles without his secretary's casting down his eyes, or at all changing the smiling, cheerful expression of his countenance.
"Hamburger," he then said, still in a peevish voice, though the first appearance of returning good humour was seen in the corners of his eyes, "I shall make you my doctor! Alas! you don't know how to find the remedy, but as far as the diagnosis is concerned, you are a born physician. I shall no longer have the right of being in a bad temper before you."
"Your Excellency will certainly never state," said von Hamburger, smiling and bowing, "that I took the liberty of remarking upon your temper; I only begged permission to defer my business until this temper--your Excellency yourself used the expression--had passed away."
"Ought I not to be in a bad temper?" cried the prince, half laughing, half impatient, "when the whole world is departing from its old orderly course, when the balance of European power, already severely shaken, kicks the beam,--and when all this takes place without Russia having any part in it, without gaining anything for itself in the new arrangement of affairs! I am glad," he added thoughtfully, "that Austria is beaten, Austria, who with unheard-of ingratitude forsook us in the hour of need, and with false friendship injured us more than our open foes; but that victory should go so far as to enable Prussia to dethrone the legitimate princes in Germany, and that the German nation should be close to us, able to threaten our frontier, causes me heavy anxiety. Prussia," he said, after a short pause, "was our friend--it was, it must be so; but what now arises is not Prussia, it is Germany; and I remember with what hatred against Russia the German nation was saturated in 1848. In Paris they will do nothing, except ask for compensation, which I think they will not get. Yes, if Napoleon could have determined to act, then the moment would have come in which we could have interfered; but to act alone is to us impossible."
"Your Excellency will hear what General Manteuffel brings; he will soon be here," said von Hamburger, drawing out his watch.
"What will he bring?" cried the prince, impatiently; "forms of speech, declarations--nothing more; and what shall we reply? we shall put a good face on a bad game--voilà tout."
Hamburger gave a meaning smile.
"Your Excellency must permit me to say," said he, "that personally I am convinced it is not right to regard the new formation of Germany with enmity; to prevent it is impossible; the old European balance of power has long been out of joint, and Russia is weighty enough," he added proudly, "not to fear any fresh distribution of power. Russia, that great and mighty nation, must not hang on to old traditions; she must go forth to meet the future free and unprejudiced; if the possessions of other states are increased, so be it--the power of Russia is not curtailed by an unalterable frontier."
He took from a portfolio he had brought with him a folded parchment, and laid it on the table beside the prince. He had listened attentively, and his quick eyes looked thoughtfully before him.
"What are you placing on the table?" he asked.
"The Treaty of Paris, your Excellency," replied Hamburger.
A fine smile appeared on the lips of the prince, a flashing glance flew from his eyes towards his secretary.
"Hamburger," he said, "you are a very remarkable man; I think we must be careful in your company."
"Why, Excellency?" asked the secretary, in a calm, naïve tone.
"I think you can read people's thoughts," replied the prince, whose ill humour had gradually vanished.
"In your Excellency's school one must learn a little of everything," said von Hamburger, laughing and bowing.
The prince took the Treaty of Paris and turned it over.
For a short time he pursued his thoughts in silence.
Then he looked up and asked,--
"Is General von Knesebeck, whom the King of Hanover has sent here, already at Zarskoë Selo?"
"He went there immediately after your Excellency had given him an audience; his imperial majesty had commanded apartments to be prepared for him."
"Has the emperor seen him yet?" asked the prince.
"No, your Excellency," replied von Hamburger; "you requested the emperor not to receive him until you had spoken to General Manteuffel."
"True," replied the prince, thoughtfully; "the emperor feels great sympathy for the King of Hanover, but I would rather that he did not enter into any engagement. We could do little alone; the only thing would be for the emperor to use his personal influence with the King of Prussia to dissuade him from a policy of annexation. It is, however, highly important to proceed most cautiously in this affair; before taking each step his majesty must be perfectly clear as to its results and consequences."
A groom of the chambers entered and announced,--
"General von Manteuffel."
The secretary rose, and withdrew by a side door leading from the cabinet.
The prince stood up.
Every trace of displeasure had vanished from his countenance, there was nothing to be seen but calm and complete courtesy.
General von Manteuffel entered. He wore the full uniform of an adjutant-general of the King of Prussia, the blue enamelled cross of the Order of Merit around his neck, upon his breast the stars of the Russian orders of Alexander Nevsky and of the White Eagle, with the broad ribbon of the first, and the star of the Prussian Order of the Red Eagle.
The general's sharply-marked features, with the thick bushy hair growing low down upon the forehead, and the full beard only slightly cut away at the chin, had not the severe, almost gloomy expression which they were accustomed to wear. He approached the Russian minister with great cordiality and easy politeness, as if he were about to pay a simple visit of courtesy; but the quick, animated grey eyes glanced searchingly from beneath their thick brows, and were fixed with an expression of restless expectation upon the prince.
The prince held out his hand to the general, and invited him by a courteous movement to place himself in an easy chair near the writing-table.
"I rejoice," he said, "to welcome your Excellency to St. Petersburg, and I beg you to excuse me," he added, with a hasty glance at the general's full uniform, "for receiving you in my morning dress. I expected a private and friendly conversation."
"I have to deliver a letter from my gracious sovereign to his majesty the emperor," replied the general, "and I wished to be ready to appear before his majesty at any moment, of course after I have spoken with your Excellency upon the object of my mission."
The prince bowed slightly.
"The object of your mission is explained in the royal letter?" he inquired.
"It simply accredits me," replied the general, "and refers to my personal explanations of its contents. The political situation is so peculiar that it is impossible for an ambassador to proceed entirely by written instructions."
"Count Redern imparted this to me," said Prince Gortschakoff, "when he informed me of the honour of your visit."
And leaning lightly on the arm of his chair, he looked at the general with an expression of polite attention.
"The king has commanded me," said General Manteuffel, "to lay before your Excellency and his majesty the emperor the principles that must at the present moment govern the Prussian policy in Germany and in Europe, with the perfect candour and the complete confidence demanded by the close connection between the two royal families, and the friendly relations between the governments."
The prince bowed.
"The success of the Prussian arms," proceeded the general, "the sacrifices which the government and the people have made to attain this success, impose upon Prussia the duty of providing for its own advantage, and also of securing on a firm and lasting basis the new formation of Germany and its national unity. Before all things the recurrence of those difficulties which have just been overcome must be rendered impossible."
The prince was silent, his eyes only expressed courteous attention.
"The king," continued General von Manteuffel, "has accepted the conditions of peace proposed by the French mediation; they are already known to your Excellency, at the same time he has declared that one of the principles which I just now mentioned renders the increase of Prussia's power by territorial acquisitions absolutely imperative, and Austria has already consented to such extension of Prussia in the north."
A half compassionate, half contemptuous smile appeared for a moment on the prince's lips, then his features resumed their expression of calm attention.
"The king," added General Manteuffel, fixing his gaze immoveably upon the eyes of the prince, "the king has now decided that the extension of power necessary for Prussia and Germany will be obtained by the incorporation of Hanover, Hesse Cassel, Nassau, and the town of Frankfort."
The general was silent, as if awaiting a remark from the minister.
Not a feature of the prince's face moved. His eyes looked cordially at the general through his gold spectacles, and those eyes plainly said: "I hear."
General von Manteuffel calmly proceeded.
"The king is deeply and painfully touched by this necessity of causing princely families related to him to undergo the hard lot of the vanquished; his majesty would have struggled against it longer, had not his duty to Prussia and to Germany been victorious in his royal heart over his natural clemency and his regard to family ties."
Again the general appeared to expect an answer, or at least a remark from the prince, but his countenance remained as quiet and unchanged as a portrait, and there was still only one expression visible in it--a firm determination to listen with the most respectful and polite attention to everything that might be said to him.
General von Manteuffel continued:
"The events which have just taken place necessitate various alterations in the European relations prescribed by the treaty of Vienna, and the king therefore holds it needful to lay before his majesty the emperor the constraining principles upon which he acted, and upon which he must continue to act; he especially desires that these principles should find full and complete justification from this government, who in common with Prussia is almost alone in Europe in adhering to the intentions of that treaty."
The prince bowed slightly.
"The treaty of Vienna," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "is scarcely ever spoken of in modern diplomacy."
"His majesty the king," proceeded General von Manteuffel, "is so penetrated by the justice of the principles laid down by that treaty and by the Holy Alliance; he has so deeply complained of Austria's renunciation of that treaty and that alliance, the Prussian policy in the year 1855 testified so strongly to her faithfulness to that treaty, that my most gracious sovereign most ardently desires his majesty the emperor should be convinced that only absolute necessity could induce him to decide on the approaching alterations in Germany, or to permit royal families related to him to feel the hard consequences of war."
"We are acquainted with the consequences that war brings upon the vanquished," said the prince, with quiet courtesy, "for ten years we have borne those consequences on the shores of the Black Sea."
"A misfortune in which Prussia is free from blame," replied General von Manteuffel, "which we have always deeply deplored, the removal of which we should welcome with joy."
The prince was silent, but a slight gleam in his eye showed the watchful general that his words were well received.
He continued:--
"His majesty would deeply regret that the necessities of German policy should in any way alter the bands of friendship, and the perfect confidence subsisting between the courts of Berlin and St. Petersburg. He rather hopes, not only that these will continue to unite Prussia and the newly constituted Germany with Russia, but also that a new, and politically a still stronger basis of alliance between these two powers may in the nature of things be formed."
The prince cast down his eyes for a moment. Then he said in a calm conversational tone:--
"Here we feel--and I assure you the emperor, my most gracious sovereign, feels most of all, the great importance of close and true friendship with Prussia--and I do not doubt," he added, courteously, "that under any circumstances this friendship would ensure an active alliance. Only at the present moment I can scarcely discover its basis. Russia is recovering and collecting herself," he continued, with a shade of greater animation in his voice; "and has no intention of mixing herself up in the affairs of European policy, or in the reconstruction of national groups, so long as Russian interests are not directly and unmistakeably injured. We might," he said, with an expressive look, "complain of alterations in Germany by which royal families, nearly related both to your king and to the emperor, are disinherited; in this circumstance I find it impossible to perceive a motive for more friendly policy, or the foundations for a more practical alliance. Besides, to speak candidly, I think that the new state of affairs in Germany is not calculated to strengthen the political friendship of the court of Berlin with us. You best know how inimical the German movement of 1848 was towards Russia--Germany will scarcely accept entirely the political guidance of Prussia."
"I think your Excellency is mistaken on this point," said General von Manteuffel, with some animation; "the democratic movement of 1848 only used the national ideas as its banner; it beheld in Russia the principle of reaction, and following the lead of its orators, it used hatred to Russia as one of those catch words which move the masses--true national feeling in Germany has no enmity to Russia, and would welcome any accession to her national strength, or to her powerful position in Europe!"
The prince was silent. His features expressed doubt.
General von Manteuffel continued:--
"Permit me, your Excellency, to explain the views which his majesty the king, my master, entertains on this matter, and which, as I need hardly say, are thoroughly shared by the Minister President Count Bismarck."
The prince slightly inclined his head, and listened with the utmost attention.
The general's features kindled, and he spoke in a voice full of conviction.
"History teaches us that all alliances arising from momentary and fleeting political combinations, even though sealed by the most solemn treaties, pass away as quickly as the circumstances that have created them. When, on the contrary, firm political relations between two nations and governments have arisen in the natural course of events, the alliance remains firm through every change of time, and reappears on every practical opportunity, whether founded on treaties or not. The first and most important condition of such a natural combination is a negative one, namely, that the interests of the two states should in no way cross each other, in no way clash. This first and indispensable condition exists in an eminent way in the relations between Prussia and Russia. I am sure your Excellency will agree with me. It is Prussia's mission to act towards the west. The German nation longs for unity, longs for a strong and powerful leader; Prussia's calling, Prussia's noblest ambition is and must ever be, to place this leadership in the strong hand of her king. Prussia must struggle to command the whole of Germany; she cannot rest until she has attained this high aim for herself and the whole nation. What is now gained is a step--an important step--on the great path which Prussia's German policy must pursue--but it is not its completion. But this completion will come; for its greatest hindrance, Austria's power and influence in Germany, is broken--broken for long enough--as I believe, for ever. The path upon which Prussia has entered, which she must pursue to the end, may be crossed by the interests of France, of Italy, of England, but never by those of the grand Russian nation, ever increasing in preponderance and strength. For what is the aim, the legitimate aim, of Russian policy?"
Prince Gortschakoff's keen eyes looked inquiringly at the general's animated countenance; the conversation now approached its most important point.
The general looked down for a moment; then he continued with some slight hesitation:--
"Your Excellency must forgive me, if to you, whose genius inspires and guides the policy of Russia, I venture to describe the aim and object of this policy; nevertheless perfect candour is the foundation of friendship, and in proportion to our comprehension of opposing political problems, we see the reason, the necessity for this friendship."
The prince bowed again in silence, and waited.
"The problem of the great founder of the present Russian monarchy," proceeded General von Manteuffel slowly, as if he sought carefully for the most correct expressions for his thoughts, "Peter the Great's problem, was the creation of a state possessing European culture, and in order to solve this mighty problem he was forced to establish the seat of his government as near as possible to cultured Europe; he formed canals through which civilization poured in through the veins of his vast kingdom, and made it live and bear fruit. So I understand the choice of St. Petersburg as a capital for new Russia, for with regard to the interior affairs and the resources of the great nation, this spot could never have risen to be its capital. Russia's resources lie, not in the north, not in this distant corner of the empire, they lie in the south, they lie there, where the great national powers of productiveness stream in rich abundance from the soil, they lie there, where the natural course of the world's commerce unites Asia to Europe, those continents to which Russia stretches out her two hands; these resources," he added, after a moment's silence, during which he gazed firmly at the prince, "lie near the Black Sea!"
Some slight emotion passed rapidly over the features of the Russian statesman; involuntarily his eyes turned towards the parchment which von Hamburger had laid before him on the table.
Manteuffel continued:--
"The first great problem which Peter the Great proposed to himself is solved--Russia's broad, gigantic and national organization is saturated with European cultivation, and we must own with some shame that in one century you have outrun the whole of Europe."
"We had only to acquire what Europe had laboriously created," said Prince Gortschakoff politely.
"The last great measure of the Emperor Alexander," continued Manteuffel, "completed the work, and opened even the lowest strata of the people to the living spirit of civilization--in short, the first phase of Russian policy is completed, St. Petersburg has fulfilled its mission. In my opinion the problem of the future is this--to use Russia's internal productiveness as a centre-point for the fruitful development of her national strength, to inspire the organization already created, and to urge it to greater activity. For this you require the Black Sea and its rich basin; there lies the real centre of Russia, there must she develop her future, as the far-seeing eye of the Emperor Nicholas rightly discerned, when he endeavoured to secure the future of Russia in that direction."
Again the prince's eyes glided towards the parchment containing the document so important to Russia.
"But upon this path," said the general, with emphasis, "which I am convinced Russia ought to take, and to pursue to the very end, as we must continue our path in Germany, the Russian interests will never clash with those of Germany; rather shall we rejoice to see our powerful neighbour as fortunately accomplishing her national mission as we hope to accomplish our own."
He was silent, and looked at the prince inquiringly.
He said in a calm tone, with a slight sigh:
"Alas! the sad result of the Crimean war has placed an insurmountable barrier in the path, which your Excellency so brilliantly describes; and----"
"We too," cried Manteuffel, "have been often and long delayed upon our path; nevertheless we never forsook it,--we never gave up the hope of reaching the goal."
The prince was silent a moment. Then he said slowly:
"I agree with your Excellency, that the interests of Prussia, even of the new Prussia and Germany, will not jostle those of Russia. I will not doubt, too, what your Excellency tells me, that the national movement in the Germany of to-day does not inherit the hatred to Russia by which the democratic movement of 1848 was actuated. I regard these assurances with satisfaction, as a guarantee that no cloud will arise between us. Yet with the same candour with which your Excellency has spoken to me, I must say that I cannot perceive how the present situation and (if the lawful claims of treaties are regarded, the lamentable) alterations in the European balance of power can form a stronger political connection--can offer a firmer basis of eventual alliance in the future. You pursue your path with victorious success,--our own is closed for a long time, perhaps for ever."
"Permit me, your Excellency," said General von Manteuffel quickly, "to express myself on this point with the reckless freedom which," he added, laughingly, "you must expect in a soldier fresh from the camp, who only dabbles in diplomacy."
The prince's eyes half closed, and he looked at the general with an expression of good-natured satire.
Manteuffel passed his hand lightly over his moustache, and said:
"The Emperor Napoleon desires compensation for his consent to the new acquisitions of Prussia and the new constitution of Germany."
"Ah!" cried the prince.
"And," proceeded Manteuffel, "they are far from bashful in Paris in pointing out what they shall require as compensation."
"I have not been initiated in this bargaining," said the prince, with a look of great interest and lively anxiety.
"I can inform your Excellency fully," returned General Manteuffel; "they will demand the frontier of 1814, Luxemburg and Mayence."
The prince's face grew still more animated.
"Willdemand?" he asked.
"The demand is not yet stated officially," replied the general; "Benedetti has only named it in confidence."
"And what did Count Bismarck reply?" asked the prince.
"He put off the discussion of the question and its answer until after the conclusion of peace with Austria."
The prince gave a fine smile and a slight nod with his head.
"I can, however, tell your Excellency the answer beforehand," said the general.
"And it will be?" asked the prince.
"Not a foot's breadth of land, not a fortress,--no compensation," said General Manteuffel, in a firm, clear voice.
Prince Gortschakoff looked at him with surprise, as if he had not expected this short and simple answer.
"And what will France do?" he asked.
The general shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps declare war," he replied,--"perhaps be prudently silent, wait, and arm; any way, it will be a sharp disappointment, and war must be the final result."
The prince looked at this man with astonishment, who had just discussed with such fine intellect all the aims and threads of political interests, and who now, with soldier-like bluntness, spoke as of an ordinary event, of a war whose thunders must shake Europe to its very foundations.
"That is the situation," said Manteuffel; "I beg your Excellency's permission to express my views on its consequences, and the position of Russia with regard to them."
"I am most curious to hear!" said the prince.
"The situation I have just described," proceeded the general, "gives Russia the power of deciding for all future time the relations that shall exist between that empire and Germany. If the Russian policy uses adverse circumstances to make difficulties for us, this policy,--forgive me, your Excellency, I must touch on every possibility to make my views clear,--this policy, even though it secures success to France for a time, will not prevent the regeneration of Germany; and under all future circumstances--for ever--Prussia and Germany will regard Russia as a foe, who is ready to come to an understanding with the western powers upon the affairs of Europe, and to make their interests her own."
General von Manteuffel spoke in a firm and decided voice, and fixed his eyes firmly on the vice-chancellor.
The prince's eyes fell, and he bit his lips.
"I beg your Excellency to forgive me," said the general, "for having touched upon an eventuality, which is doubtless far removed from your enlightened policy. I now come to the other course--namely, that Russia, according to the old traditions of the two courts, shall regard the enlargement of Prussia with friendly and favourable eyes, and shall make use of the present opportunity to arrange with new Germany the foundations of that close connection which, according to my convictions, ought to exist in future, and which will so greatly further the interests of both nations. The compensation being refused," he proceeded, "France will probably declare war immediately,--we do not fear her; at this moment the whole of Germany would unite and accept war without hesitation, especially if we had Russia as a well-wisher to back us. But Russia can have no more favourable opportunity for breaking the bann which the treaty of 1856 laid upon her development and her natural and needful aims. Whilst we hold France in check, no one will prevent you from bursting asunder the unnatural chains with which the western allied powers, in conjunction with ungrateful Austria, fettered you upon the Black Sea, that spot where lies the future of Russia."
The prince's eyes brightened, his features expressed a smiling consent to the ideas so forcibly and convincingly unfolded by General von Manteuffel.
He continued:
"If, however, as I personally believe will be the case, France, who has already let the right moment go by----"
Prince Gortschakoff several times nodded his head.
"If France," said the general, "is silent for the present, assembles her forces, and arms, our position is even better, because it is more certain. During the period of suspense which will precede the inevitable war, we gain time to bind the national strength of Germany more strongly and closely together, and you have time to complete your preparations in the south and west, and to form ties across the ocean which will, under any circumstances, secure to you your natural confederates."
"General," said the prince, smiling; "you have comprehensively and successfully studied the affairs of Russia."
"Because I love Russia," replied the general, with perfect frankness; "and because I regard a close and indissoluble friendship between Russia and Germany as the salvation of Europe in the future. But I am coming to a conclusion. When, after a longer or a shorter interval from the reconstruction of Germany, a decisive war breaks out with France, then that alliance of the western powers so prejudicial to you falls to pieces; you will have nothing to do, except to hold in check Austria's desire for revenge, and you will obtain perfect freedom again to open the Black Sea to your national interests, and your national progress. We, as we press onwards on the path leading to our national aims, shall behold with joy the swift and mighty strides which Russia will make in the fulfilment of her national destiny. Yes," he continued, "we will at all times and in every way support you. Could I for a moment doubt what decision would be made by so enlightened a policy as your own, I would say,--'Choose, your Excellency, whether two states, whose interests can never be inimical, shall mutually harass each other--or whether by a perfect and close understanding they shall support each other in gaining the powerful position that nature assigns them--whether hand in hand they shall guide the fate of Europe?'"
He ceased and looked at the prince in suspense.
From his face all trace of the cold reserve he had assumed at the commencement of the interview had completely vanished. A deep earnestness appeared on his features. His gaze rested on the Prussian ambassador.
"My dear general," he said, in a firm, clear voice, "if the principles and the views which you have so candidly, so warmly, and so convincingly stated are those of your government----"
"They are in every respect those of my gracious sovereign, and of his ministers," said Manteuffel, calmly and decidedly.
"Then," replied the prince, "I will tell you with the same frankness, that in all fundamental principles our judgment on the present state of affairs perfectly coincides with your own."
A flash of joy shone in the general's deep grave eyes.
"It only remains," said the prince, "to use these common principles and views in practical arrangements, and to make them the firm basis of common action in the future."
"I am ready to do this at any moment," said the general.
"But first of all," continued the prince, "we must gain the consent of his majesty the emperor to, our agreement; if it is agreeable to you, let us drive at once to Zarskoë Selo. You will have the trouble," he said, smiling, "of repeating to the emperor what you have just said to me."
General von Manteuffel bowed.
"I hope," he said, "that my devotion to my country, and my honest love to Russia, will give my words clearness and conviction."
Prince Gortschakoff rang.
"Order the carriage," he said to the groom of the chambers.
"Will you excuse me for a moment," said he to General von Manteuffel, "I shall be ready to accompany you immediately."
He withdrew by a side door. Manteuffel walked to the window and looked thoughtfully through the panes.
After five minutes the prince returned. He wore his ministerial undress uniform, the broad orange ribbon of the Black Eagle beneath his coat, and upon his breast the star of this highest Prussian Order, above the star of the Order of Andreas.
The groom of the chambers opened the door.
"Precede me, I beg," said the minister, with a courteous movement, "I am at home."
General von Manteuffel left the room and awaited the prince who followed him.
* * * * *
Late in the afternoon of the same day the splendour of the evening sun flooded the magically beautiful park surrounding the imperial palace of Zarskoë Selo; that park of which it is said, that a fallen leaf is never allowed to remain on the well-kept roads, that magnificent creation of the first Catharine, which a succession of mighty autocrats have embellished until it has attained the charms of Fairyland.
General von Knesebeck appeared from one of the side doors of the enormous castle, which with its ornaments of gilded bronze, and its colossal caryatides glittered in the rays of the setting sun from amidst dark masses of lofty trees. He had arrived that morning at Zarskoë Selo at the emperor's command, and he awaited an audience, during which he was to deliver a letter to the emperor from his king, who had sent the general to beg Alexander II. to interfere on his behalf.
Grave and sad, the general walked through the glorious alleys, lost in gloomy thought. The distinguished attention with which he had been received, the equipages and servants placed at his disposal, had not removed the impression made on him, both from his conversation with Prince Gortschakoff, and from the remarks of gentlemen about the court, that there was little hope for his king. They had all expressed sympathy and interest; but in the atmosphere of a court there is a certain fluid, always perceptible to those accustomed to such circles, from which they can almost always tell beforehand whether or no a mission will be successful.
The general had not approved of the policy of the Hanoverian court, his quick eyes had perceived the weakness of Austria, and he had deeply deplored the unaccountable command of the Hanoverian army during its short campaign. Many ties bound him to Prussia, and with his whole heart he grasped the thought of a United Germany; but he was a true servant to his king, and deep grief overwhelmed him when he thought of the future that was now inevitable, unless his mission attained success.
He walked slowly on, farther and farther, lost in thought.
Suddenly an artistically contrived ruin, producing an excellent effect, arose before him in the solitude, amongst lofty trees. He went up to it, a doorkeeper in the imperial livery obsequiously opened the door after glancing at the general's uniform, and he entered a lofty circular space lighted only from above, dark, severe, and simple, an English chapel. Before him in exquisite Carara marble rose a figure of Christ, Dannecker's marvellously beautiful creation. The Saviour with one hand points to his breast, the other is raised with inexpressible grandeur towards heaven.
The general stood still for a long time before this affecting figure.
"We must lay our sorrows on the Saviour's divine breast, and humbly await wisdom from heaven," he whispered, "does a secret warning draw me hither now, and lead me to this beautiful and holy image?"
Overcome by the powerful impression made upon him by this work of genius, he folded his hands and stood before it for some time.
He slightly moved his lips as he said:
"If the wheel of fate, as it rolls along unceasingly, must crush so much in its path, grant at least that the German Fatherland may gain might and greatness, and the German people happiness, from the struggles and the sufferings of the days that are gone!"
With a long look at the sculptured figure he turned away, and passing by the door-keeper, he returned to the park.
He walked again towards the palace, and stood still before the large lake, compelled by art to flow out from between the two halves of the castle, and to fall down in waterfalls with many cascades. Here is the so-called Admiralty, where the grand dukes exercise themselves in building the models of ships; near the pretty landing place boats are crowded from all the five divisions of the world; the Turkish kaik, the Chinese junk, the Russian tschelónok, and the whaling boat of the Greenlander, lie side by side, and skilful sailors in the emperor's employment are at the disposal of those who wish to embark.
The general was looking at this interesting and varied picture, when a servant approached him hurriedly, and informed him that an equerry had just come to his rooms to lead him to the emperor.
With quick footsteps and hastily drawn breath, the general went back to his apartments, and after donning scarf and plumed hat, hurried with the equerry along the large and magnificent terrace leading to the part of the palace inhabited by the emperor.
In the ante-chamber there was only a groom of the chambers, who immediately opened the door of the emperor's room. The equerry after simply announcing him, requested General Knesebeck to enter.
In the brightly lighted apartment, with large windows leading out upon the terrace, and the mild aromatic summer air streaming in through them, stood the lofty form of Alexander the Second. He wore the uniform of a Russian general, his perfect features, always grave and even melancholy, showed emotion, and his large expressive eyes gazed at the general with a look of deep sorrow. He advanced a step towards Knesebeck and said in his full, melodious voice, in the purest German:
"You come late, general; nevertheless, I rejoice to see you here, a true servant to your king."
And he held out his hand to the general, who seized it respectfully, and with deep feeling.
"If it might be possible," he said, "for me to be of service to my master so severely smitten by fate! But first of all I must discharge my commission;" he drew a sealed letter from his uniform; "and place this communication from my king in the mighty hands of your imperial majesty."
Alexander took the letter, seated himself in an easy, chair, and pointed to a seat near, where the general placed himself.
The emperor opened the letter and read its contents slowly and attentively.
For a moment he looked down sorrowfully, then he fixed his penetrating eyes upon the general and spoke.
"Have you anything more to say to me?"
"I have to add," said von Knesebeck, "that his majesty the king my gracious master, fully acknowledging the completeness of events that have made the King of Prussia the conqueror in Germany, is ready to conclude peace with his Prussian majesty and to accept the conditions made unavoidable by necessity. My gracious sovereign expressed this in a letter he wrote to his majesty King William, but the letter was refused. The king hopes, well knowing your majesty's tried friendship, that you will undertake to mediate, and to preserve him from the hard measures already spoken of by the public newspapers."
The emperor sighed deeply and looked on the ground.
"My dear General," he then said, "you have come too late. I have indeed the most affectionate and honest friendship for the king, and from my soul I wished to see the sad conflict avoided whose unhappy consequences are now being accomplished. I have endeavoured to work in this spirit, it has been in vain. I must be quite frank with you," he continued, "the position of affairs demands it. The wish of my heart to be useful to your king is opposed by an unalterable political necessity, which King William, my uncle, deplores as deeply as I do myself."
The general sighed. His face quivered with pain and tears shone in his eyes.
The emperor looked at him for some time with an expression of deep sorrow and affectionate sympathy.
"I scarcely venture," he then said in a gentle voice, "to make the only proposition to you that the circumstances permit, and which if the king accepts it, I am sure I can prevail upon the King of Prussia to grant; if the king will abdicate," he proceeded with hesitation, "the Brunswick succession shall be secured to the Crown Prince Ernest Augustus."
The general was silent for a moment.
"Thus," said he, "must the house of Guelph be reduced to its cradle and its oldest inheritance! Will your majesty permit me to lay this proposition to which I am not in a position to reply, before my king at once?"
"I request you will do so," said the emperor, "you will," he added, "have no cipher at hand, send the despatch to Count Stackelberg, he can also receive the answer under his cipher."
"At your majesty's command," said General von Knesebeck.
"Be convinced," said the emperor in a hearty tone, "that I feel the deepest and warmest sympathy for your king; may God make the future of his family as happy as possible, and if I can help him in any way, I am ready to do so. Though the occasion is sad, I am glad that I have had the opportunity of making your acquaintance, my dear general."
He took his hand and pressed it heartily.
Then he rang and called his equerry.
"Take the despatch which the general will give you to Prince Gortschakoff at once. It must be sent in cipher to my ambassador in Vienna immediately. The answer must be sent here to the general without delay."
With a low bow General von Knesebeck left the cabinet.
An hour later the electric wire bore his despatch to Vienna.
The night fell; restless and sleepless the general watched the sun which only at midnight sank for a short time below the horizon, and soon reappeared, mingling the twilight of evening with the morning dawn.
At noon a secretary arrived from Prince Gortschakoff and brought him a sealed letter.
The general hastily broke the seal with its large double eagles, and in the neatest handwriting saw the reply to his despatch.
It ran thus:
"The king cannot trade upon the succession to Brunswick, which will devolve upon himself and his heirs, by right of family inheritance, and the lawful transmission of land. He is however ready to abdicate immediately, provided the government of the kingdom of Hanover is guaranteed to the Crown Prince."
"I expected this," said the general with a sigh.
And sticking the paper into his uniform, he seized his plumed hat, and descended the stairs to the carriage already waiting to convey him to the Emperor Alexander.