whole face for a moment in the flowers, and then handed it to Iffland with a gentle smile. Farewell," he said; "remember me on looking at these flowers. I would I had known you in happier days, when I should have been able to enjoy your genius and admire your art. You must be a great actor, for you have a wonderfully sonorous and pliable voice. I should like to hear you de claim, even though you should recite but a few verses." 66 Permit me, then, to recite the lines in which Wieland celebrated your Creation,'" said Iffland; and, advancing a few steps, holding the bouquet in his hand, and fixing his gleaming eyes on Haydn, who gazed at him with a gentle smile, Iffland recited in his full sonorous voice Wieland's beautiful lines: Der Schöpfung mächt'gen Gang, Den Hauch des Herrn auf dem Gewässer wehen; Jetzt durch ein blitzend Wort das erste Licht entstehen, Und die Gestirne sich durch ihre Bahnen drehen ; Wie Baum und Pflanze wird, wie sich der Berg erhebt, Der Donner rollet uns entgegen; Der Regen säuselt, jedes Wesen strebt In's Dasein; und bestimmt, des Schöpfers Werk zu krönen Oh, jedes Hochgefühl, das in dem Herzen schlief, "Thy wondrous song in melting strains To our mute hearts swift entrance gains; We see creation's mighty course: God breathes upon the water's face. One flashing word bids primal light appear, Upheaving mountains now are seen, After concluding his recitation, Iffland approached the old man quickly, knelt down before him and imprinted a kiss on his clasped hands. Then, without adding another word, he rose, and, walking backward as if before a king, ap proached the door, opened it softly, and went out, followed by Schmid.* "Farewell!" exclaimed Haydn, in a deeply-moved voice, and sank back in the easy-chair. Profound silence now reigned around him; but all at once this silence was broken by a thundering crash, which caused the windows to rattle and shook the walls. The deafening noise was repeated again and again, and rolled through the air like the angry voice of God. And now the door opened, and Conrad and Kate, the aged servant-woman, rushed into the room. "Ah, master, master, it is all up now, and we are all lost! The Austrians and the French are in force close to Vienna, and the battle has already commenced." "The battle has commenced!" exclaimed Joseph Haydn, rising from his easy-chair, and lifting his hand to heaven. "The battle has commenced! Good and great God in heaven, protect our fatherland, and grant Austria a glorious victory over her arrogant foe! Do not allow Austria and Germany to succumb; help us to defeat the proud enemy who has humiliated and oppressed us so long! O Lord my God, Young animals to being rise, We hear the mighty thunder roar, And rains in gushing torrents pour. All creatures struggle into life; and stand Before our eyes, fresh from their Maker's hand, The first pair, led by thy sweet tones. Now waked by inspiration's art, Enthusiasm stirs our heart. Who cries not, 'Earth is passing fair!' Yet far more fair her Maker is, How perfect every work of his ! " * The whole account of this interview between Joseph Haydn and Iffland is in strict accordance with Iffland's own report of it in his "Theatre-Almanac," pp. 181–207. shield the honor of Germany and Austria! Protect the emperor !" And Joseph Haydn walked through the room with the vigor and alacrity of a youth, dropped his hands on the keys of the piano, and began to play in full concords the melody of his imperial hymn, "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser!" Conrad and Kate stood behind him, singing in a low, tremulous tone; but outside, the booming of artillery continued incessantly, and they heard also the cries of the people who were hurrying in dismay through the streets, and the tolling of all the church-bells, which called upon the Vicnnese to pray to God. All at once Haydn paused in the middle of the tune; his hands dropped from the keys, a long sigh burst from his lips, and he sank fainting into the arms of his faithful Conrad. His servants carried him to his couch, and soon succeeded in restoring him to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, and his first glance fell upon Conrad, who stood weeping at his bedside. "The nightingale was right; my end is drawing nigh," he said, with a faint smile. "But I will not die before learning that the Austrians have defeated the enemy, and that my emperor has gained a battle." And in truth Joseph Haydn's strong will once more overpowered death, which had already touched him with its finger. He raised himself upon his couch; he would not die while Austria was struggling on the reeking, gory field of battle for the regeneration or her end. Two days followed, two dreadful days of uncertainty and terror; they heard incessantly the booming of artillery; but although the Viennese gazed down from their church-steeples all day, they were unable to discern any thing. Tremendous clouds of smoke covered the country all around, and wrapped the villages of Aspern and Essling and the island of Lobau in an impenetrable veil of mist. Joseph Haydn passed these days, the 21st and 22d of May, in silent grief and gentle resignation; he prayed often, and played his imperial hymn three times a day. Thus the morning of the 22d of May had come. Conrad had gone into the street to ask for news, for the booming of artillery had ceased, and the battle was over. "Which side was victorious?" That was the question which caused all to tremble, and which filled all hearts with intense anxiety. Haydn's heart, too, was full of grave anxiety, and, to overcome his impatience till Conrad's return, he had caused Kate to conduct him to his piano. "I will play my imperial hymn," he said, hastily; “I have often derived comfort and relief from it in the days of uneasiness and anxiety; and when I play it my heart is always so much at ease. Its strength will not fail me to-day either."* He commenced playing; a blissful smile illuminated his features; he lifted his radiant eyes to heaven, and his music grew louder and fierier, and his fingers glided more powerfully over the keys of the piano. Suddenly the door was thrown open, and Conrad rushed in, panting from the rapid run, flushed with excitement, but with a joyful face. "Victory!" he shouted. "Victory!" And he sank down at Haydn's feet. "Which side was victorious?" asked Haydn, anxiously. "The Austrians were victorious," said Conrad, pantingly. "Our Archduke Charles has defeated the Emperor Napoleon at Aspern; the whole French army retreated to the island of Lobau, whence it can no longer escape. Thousands of French corpses are floating down the Danube, and proclaiming to the world that Austria has conquered the French! Hurrah ! hurrah! Our hero, the Archduke Charles, has defeated the villainous Bonaparte! Hurrah !” “Hurrah! hurrah!" repeated the parrot on its pole; and the cat raised its head from the cushion on which it had lain, and gazed with keen, searching eyes at the parrot, as if it had understood Paperl's jubilant notes. Joseph Haydn said nothing, but clasped his hands and looked rapturously upward. After a pause he exclaimed, in a loud and joyous voice : "Lord God, I thank Thee for not disappointing my firm trust, but protecting Austria and helping her to vanquish her foe. I knew full well that the just cause would triumph, and the just cause is that of Austria; for * Haydn's own words.-See "Zeitgenosson," vol. iv., third series, p. 36. France, hypocritical France alone provoked this war, and Austria drew the sword only to defend her honor and her frontiers. The just cause could not but triumph, and hence Austria had to conquer, and France, had to succumb in this struggle. God protect the Emperor Francis! I may lay down now and die. Austria is victorious! That is the last joyful greeting which the world sends to me. With this greeting I will die-ay, die! Death is already drawing nigh. But Death wears a laurel-wreath on its head, and its eye is radiant with triumphant joy. Glory to Austria! Glory to the German fatherland!" These were Joseph Haydn's last words. He fainted away. It is true the physicians succeeded in restoring him to life, and he breathed yet for six days; but his life resembled only the last feeble flicker of the dying flame, and in the night of the 30th of May death came to extinguish this flickering flame. CHAPTER XXIV. THE ARCHDUKE JOHN AT COMORN. THE unheard-of event, then, had taken place. Napoleon had been defeated by the Austrians. The Archduke Charles had gained a brilliant victory; Napoleon had transferred his whole army to the island of Lobau; he himself passed his time in moody broodings at the castle of Ebersberg, and the unexpected disaster which had befallen him, and which at the same time had brought about the death of one of his favorites, Marshal Lannes, seemed to have suddenly deprived the emperor of all his energy. He did not speak, he did not eat; he sat for whole days in his cabinet, staring at the maps spread out before him on his table, and yet forgetting to cover them, as he used to do on conceiving the plans of his campaigns, with the colored pins which represented the different armies. Victory had no longer been able to soften this marble Cæsarean face, but defeat caused his features now to wear an expression of profound anger and grief. Nevertheless, he did not complain, |