Schulmeister fought for time to the last. He believed that something might happen to relieve him from his dangerous position. The general in command directed that he should be shot at sunrise. The Alsatian betrayed no emotion when he heard the dreadful words. Indeed, danger had become so great a part of his everyday life that it had no terrors for him. Death in any form did not shock him—not even when it was to be his own. He called for pen, ink and paper and spent a long time writing in his cell. It has been said that he scribbled reports which he hoped to have smuggled into the French lines. If this be true it proves that Schulmeister was as much patriot as spy. But the story rests on tradition, and, of course, is impossible of verification, by means of documentary evidence.
After that he waited for morning. To the ordinary man this would have seemed a long black night, but there is nothing to indicate that it caused the Alsatian any great mental anguish. His mind was busy turning over the possibility of escape, but otherwise he was placid and self-contained. He simply sat there on his low wooden stool and watched for the sunrise that was to be the signal for his execution.
While Schulmeister was going through this thrilling experience Napoleon was hammering at the gates of Vienna. He had pursued the armies of Russia and Austria from one point to another, all the time working to accomplish his favorite maxim, “Divide in order to subsist; concentrate in order to fight.” As the contest went along the ardor of the Russian army grew more intense. It advanced toward the position long studied by Napoleon and which he destined for his field of battle. We are told by the historian Guizot that in accordance with the plan of the Austrian general Weirother, the allies had resolved to turn the right of the French army in order to cut off the road to Vienna by assaulting the numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. Altogether, the two emperors and their staff officers occupied the castle and village of Austerlitz. On the first of December, 1805, the allies established themselves upon the plateau Platzen. Napoleon by design had left this free, divining with a sure instinct of superior genius the maneuvers of the enemy he had cleverly drawn into the snare. His proclamation to the troops announced the plan of the battle.
“Soldiers,” said he, “the Russian army presents itself before you to avenge the Austrian army of Ulm. These are the same battalions you have beaten at Hollabrunn and that you have constantly pursued to this place. The positions that we occupy are formidable and whilst they march to turn my right they will present me their flank.
“Soldiers, I will myself direct your battalions. I will keep myself away from the firing if with your accustomed bravery you carry disorder and confusion into the enemy’s ranks. But if the victory were for a moment uncertain you would see your emperor expose himself to the brunt of the attack; for this victory will finish the campaign and we shall be able to resume our winter quarters where we shall be joined by new armies which are forming in France. Then the peace I shall make will be worthy of my people, of you, and of me.”
It so happened that this was the eve of the anniversary of the coronation of the Emperor. The soldiers in order to celebrate the event gathered up the straw upon which they were stretched and, making it into bundles, they lit them at the end of poles.
“Be assured,” said an old grenadier, advancing toward the chief who had so many times led his comrades to victory, “that we will bring thee to-morrow the flags and cannon of the Russian army to signalize the anniversary of the Second of December.”
The fires were extinguished and the Austrians thought they saw in this the indication of a night retreat. Gathered around the map, the allied generals listened to Weirother, who developed his plan of battle with a boasting air which displayed in him a clear persuasion of his own merits. He said to his associates:
“We do not think him strong. If he has 40,000 men it is all. He is extinguishing his fires and a good deal of noise is coming from his camp. He is either retreating or else he is changing his position.”
At daylight the next morning the battle began. It was one of the fiercest in all of the Napoleonic wars. Murat and Lanes attacked on the left eighty-two Russian and Austrian squadrons under the orders of Prince John of Lichtenstein. General Valhubert had his thigh fractured and the soldiers wished to carry him away.