the future stretched in bright perspective before us, yet our hearts were oppressed with sadness on the evening of separation. While, as a doctor of philosophy, I tried to repel all weak forebodings, I could not, as a lover, shake off my silly fears; and Frederica herself, overcome by the same fancies, exclaimed, as she sobbed a farewell—“Ferdinand, dear Ferdinand, God be with you! God take care of you!—but, alas! I fear that we shall never meet again!”
CHAPTER FOURTH.
JOURNEY TO MAGDEBURG.
On the 15th of October, I passed through the Brandenburg gate, bearing with me my patriotic songs and my patron’s appointment; and as I was compelled to remain for a night at Potsdam, to transact some necessary business, I turned at twilight towards the garden of Sans Souci, and amid its beautiful shades, renewed the vow which, nine years previously, I had pledged to my beloved Frederica. On returning to the hotel, I sat up until midnight, busied with an epistle, in which I wrote out a whole Iliad of hopes and pleasant fancies, and sketched for the eye of the beloved, bright pictures of our home-life in the quiet parsonage, shut out from the noise and tumult of a vain and thoughtless world. “Thou and I, dearest,”—it was thus I concluded,—“will be completely blest; for what need we more, even if we could draw heaven itself to earth. Our cottage, our garden, will they not seem to us the most beautiful portion of God’s creation, where, unenvied by others, we will not covet the bliss of the angels, but will live completely blest in ourselves.” With these pleasant fancies, I fell asleep, and my dreams were only a vivid continuation of my waking thoughts, until at length another happy day broke upon me, and I started up to prepare for my onward journey. Oh the varied dreams that crowded into that opening day. As I rode along, at one moment I fancied my first interview with the count, and how I presented myself in a most attractive light; then, again, I was leading my bride into the parsonage, saying, as I did so—“See, angel, here is your earthly domain;” and, lastly, I seemed to stand for the first time in my parochial office, a wide-spread congregation waiting to receive instruction from my lips as the shepherd of their souls, till, as I proceeded in my eloquent discourse, every eye that gazed upon me grew blind with tears, and all hastened to express their delight in their new pastor, while my wife gave me—that sweetest of all rewards—a loving kiss.
On reaching Brandenburg, I found the inn in a complete tumult, and every body talking of the great conflicts that had taken place between Napoleon and our beloved monarch.
“And how goes it with the emperor?” I asked.
“Oh, he is missing.”
“And Marshal Lannes?”
“Dead.”
“And Davoust?”
“Dead.”
“And Ney?”
“Dead—all dead!”
I could no longer restrain my delight, but thrust my hand into my traveling coat, and was about to draw out the songs of victory. An old man who stood near me put down his pipe, and stooping as if accidentally towards me, said, in a deep whisper—“Would to God it were so, but it is all false, sir. On the contrary, our troops have been very unfortunate.”
My hand was stayed in its eager course; I let the odes wait their proper time and place, and repeating, mechanically, the words, “Very unfortunate,” I gave full reins to my anxiety, and even asked myself, “What if Napoleon should come between Frederica and myself?”
The very thought produced a violent ague-fit.
CHAPTER FIFTH.
EVIL FOREBODINGS.
On the following day, as I journeyed along the state road, a courier passed me at full speed. He appeared to return from the army, and was hastening to Berlin, but from his profound silence I augured nothing good—for joy, even when unquestioned, is apt to seek for sympathy. On approaching the next village, I observed a crowd of people at the inn door, and drawing near, saw at the window a troop of Prussian hussars, while saddled horses stood at the door. “Is there any thing new?” was my inquiry of the gaping crowd, as I stopped my carriage for a moment.
“Ah, bad enough—bad enough!” cried an old woman; “our king has lost every thing, and they say that the French will be here in an hour’s time!”
I gave little credit to the old wife’s tale, but anxious to inquire further, rode up to the entrance of the dwelling, and springing from my carriage, entered within. Every chamber swarmed with occupants; hussars, peasants, magistrates, stood crowding together, smoking their pipes, drinking, swearing and talking confusedly. One told of the retreat of the Prussians, another of the advance of the French, and a third gave an account of some general who was unable to ride on horseback because of his numerous wounds, and for whom they were even then seeking out a conveyance in the neighbourhood. I was greatly excited by their relations, and choosing a place at one of the tables, I ordered a tankard of the landlord’s miserable beer, for the purpose of gaining intelligence from the soldiers. In about ten minutes, the hussars hurriedly left the chamber. At the sudden cry of
