In rapid succession he was passed from sergeant to lieutenant, to captain, to major, to colonel, and finally to Field Marshal Mack von Lieberich, who seems to have possessed a naivete so often hidden beneath a regimental front.
Von Lieberich listened eagerly to a report that Napoleon was merely the lid on the French tea kettle, which would soon boil hard and fast enough to blow him sky high. At Schulmeister's request the Austrian commander sent twelve key men into France to receive information at points designated by the master spy.
These dozen dupes were fed information by loyal Frenchmen. All of it was relayed to von Lieberich's willing ears, and it was substantiated soon afterwards by being printed in a Paris newspaper which reached Schulmeister every day.
The news came through that France would soon rise against Napoleon, and when a pessimistic special edition announced that the English had landed on the coast of Brittany, the time seemed ripe for one big smash.
Schulmeister told von Lieberich that the French Army would now try to withdraw, and sure enough, when the field marshal made an inspection, Napoleon's army was folding its tents in readiness for a getaway. They were in movement towards the rear when von Lieberich attacked with 30,000 men before the city of Ulm, only to have the French turn after he had been lured into a sufficiently deep pocket and attack from all sides with more men than he had suspected were in the vicinity.
All the reports as well as the newspapers had been manufactured by Schulmeister's order," and the French triumph was complete. The proper finale would seem to have been for the spy to slip away to his emperor, but Schulmeister, by then chief of the Austrian secret service, crowded his luck.
He faced down whispers and accusations at Vienna by passionately declaring that someone had betrayed him to Napoleon. He then proceeded to go to France on a personal trip to find the traitor.
He came back with information of real value to the Austrians. It resulted in their acquisition of some cannon and ammunition, which Napoleon figured to be a small price to pay for keeping the wool securely over von Lie-bench's believing eyes.
So remarkable an actor was Schulmeister that in less than a month he was riding high again and sitting in at a conference between Tsar Alexander I of Russia and Emperor Francis of Austria.
Once again he slipped them advice on which they shot the works, and once again Napoleon bolstered his reputation as a strategist by cashing in on Schulmeister's cool cheek.
The Austrians and Russians were routed just before the end of 1805. This time Schulmeister disappeared from Vienna, but he continued to roam Austria in disguise.
Some historians think that the most remarkable thing about Schulmeister was his ability to induce the niggardly Napoleon to pay him £20,000 a year. The ex-smuggler carried on for years as the emperor's real right hand, but his one desire—membership in the Legion of Honour—was never awarded him. "You can have everything but that," promised Napoleon, who could not stomach such a prize to such a man.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.