[21] This occurrence is strictly historical, but it is commented upon by the French and German historians in a widely different sense. The French historians, without exception, treat it as a touching proof of the emperor's generosity. So does Thiers in his "Histoire du Consulat et de l'Empire," vol. vii., p. 148; and the Duchess d'Abrantes, in her "Mémoires," vol. xi., p. 340; as well as Constant, in his "Mémoires," vol. iii., p. 380. But the German historians treat it as a well-calculated intrigue, in order to intimidate the nobility by an act of severity, and to conciliate them by the subsequent generosity displayed by the emperor.—Vide "Mémoires d'un Homme d'État," vol. ix., p. 316; Schlosser's "History of the Nineteenth Century," vol. vi., p. 232; Haeusser's "History of Germany," vol iii., p. 42. The view taken by the German historians is supported by the letter of the Prince von Hatzfeld, which formed the sole basis of the charges preferred against him, and which the French take care not to lay before their readers. The incriminated passage was as follows: "Officially I know nothing of the French army, but that I saw yesterday a requisition upon the municipality of Potsdam, signed by D'Aultanne. The French say their army is eighty thousand strong. Others state the number at only fifty thousand. The horses of the cavalry are said to be greatly exhausted."
[22] When the Duke of Brunswick, at the head of the army of the King of Prussia, took the field against the French, he said, in a manifesto to his troops, "We will conquer and burn the rapacious city of Paris."
[23] As soon as M. de Münchhausen returned to Brunswick and communicated to the unfortunate duke the utter failure of his mission and Napoleon's threatening reply, the mortally wounded old man left his capital and state, in order not to run the additional risk of being taken prisoner by the French. On leaving his palace, carried on a litter by his faithful servants, he was heard to wail in a low voice, "Quelle honte! quelle honte!" and the tears burst from the sockets of his ruined eyes. The Duke of Brunswick had gone by way of Celle, Hamburg, and Altona, to Ottensen, a village on Danish soil. But since the day on which he had been compelled to leave the palace of his ancestors and his state as a fugitive, he would take no food; he would not support the burden of life any more—death by starvation was to deliver him from his sufferings. It was in vain that his servants and his faithful physician implored him to desist from this fatal purpose; he remained immovable. Only once the supplications of his physician succeeded in persuading him to eat an oyster. Formerly oysters had been a favorite dish of the duke, and they excited his appetite even now. But scarcely had he tasted it when he repented of his weakness, and his fixed purpose to die of hunger returned as intensely as ever. He spit out the oyster and cried, "Man, what are you doing? You give me my eyes to eat!" Henceforward it was impossible to shake his determination. He died after long, excruciating sufferings, on the 10th of November, 1806, at Ottensen. His remains were brought back to Brunswick on the 10th of November, 1810, by his son and successor, Duke Frederick William, so famous as commander of the Corps of Vengeance.
[24] On the day after the battle of Jena, the emperor said to General Savary, while riding across the battle-field of Rossbach, between Halle and Merseburg: "Gallop to the left in this direction; about half a mile from here you will find the column erected by the Prussians in memory of that battle." Savary advanced in the direction indicated, and found the small column in the middle of a corn-field. Waving his handkerchief, General Savary made a sign that he had succeeded in discovering the monument, and Napoleon galloped with his suite across the plain to contemplate it. The storms of half a century had beaten upon it, and it was difficult to decipher the numerous inscriptions with which it was covered. The division of General Suchet just passing the spot, the emperor ordered them to have the monument removed and sent to Paris. The pieces were put into a caisson, and the orders executed.—"Mémoirs du Duc de Rovigo," vol. ii., p. 293.
[25] Louisa's own words.—Vide "Queen Louisa," p. 316.
[26] Vide "Prussia in the Years 1806 and 1807"—a Diary, by H.V. Schladen, p. 57.
[27] "Mémoires d'un Homme d'État," vol. ix., p. 341.
[28] Thiers, "Consulat et Empire," vol. vii., p. 880.
"Wer nie sein Brot mit Thränen ass,
Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass,
Der kennt euch nicht. Ihr himmlischen Mächte."
Göthe.