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While Blucher gave his orders to John in a hurried and low voice,
instructing him to place a substantial battery of bottles of
champagne in front of the two generals, Scharnhorst preceded him
with Madame von Blucher to the dining-room.

"Madame von Blucher," whispered Scharnhorst, after satisfying
himself by a quick side glance that Blucher was too far from them to
overhear his words, "permit me to ask a question. Is your husband
strong and healthy enough, both physically and mentally, for me to
talk to him about politics? May I communicate to him some important
news which I have received today, or would I thereby excite him too
much?"

"Do you bring glad tidings?" asked Amelia.

"I believe we may consider them so; at all events, they are
encouraging."

"In that case, general, you may unhesitatingly communicate them;
but, pray, do so only after dinner, and when he has somewhat
recovered from the excitement with which your welcome but unexpected
visit has filled him. Blucher's mind is perfectly strong and
healthy, but his body is feeble, and he is still affected with a
disease of the stomach, which, precisely at dinner, very often gives
him severe pain: Pray, therefore, no excitement and no politics at
the dinner-table."

"So, here I am," said Blucher, who had followed them, and now took
the general's arm; "now, children, quick, for I long to take wine
again with my dear Scharnhorst."

Scharnhorst faithfully complied with the wishes of Madame von
Blucher. No allusion to politics was made during the dinner, and
their conversation was harmless, merry, and desultory. They left the
dining-room, and took coffee in the cozy sitting-room of Madame von
Blucher.

"And now," said Blucher, who was sitting on the sofa by the side of
Scharnhorst, while his wife sat in the easy-chair opposite them,
"let us fill our pipes, or rather smoke them, for they have already
been filled."

"But shall we he permitted to do so in your wife's room?" asked
Scharnhorst.

"Oh, I have been accustomed to it for twenty years past," exclaimed
Amelia, laughing. "When I wished to have Blucher in my room, and by
my side, I could not show the door to his pipe; and therefore, as a
good soldier's wife, I have accustomed myself to the odor of
tobacco-smoke."

"Well," said Blucher, pointing to the two clay pipes which lay on
the silver tray beside the burning wax-candle and the cup filled
with paper-kindlers, "take a match and fire the cannon; luckily it
makes no noise, but only smoke."

Madame von Blucher handed each of the gentlemen a clay pipe, and
then held a burning paper close to the tobacco.

"Now, the guns are ready, and the battle may commence," said
Blucher, puffing a cloud from his pipe.

"You see, general," said Amelia, turning to Scharnhorst with a
significant glance, "madcap Blucher cannot refrain from talking all
the time about battles and politics. Now, indulge him in his whim,
general, and talk a little with him about these topics."

"I believe it will amount to little," growled Blucher. "If
Scharnhorst had brought good news he would not have kept me so long
from knowing it. No; the news is always the same; I know it already!
New bulletins favorable to Napoleon--nothing else!"

Scharnhorst smiled. "Why, my friend, what is the reason of your
sudden despondency? Have you, then, lost all your faith in the
approach of better times?--you who used to be more courageous than
any of us, you who hitherto cherished the firm belief in a change
for the better, and were to us a shining beacon of honor, hope, and
courage! What shall we do, and what is to become of us, when Blucher
gets discouraged and ceases to hope?"

"Well," said Blucher, "I am not yet discouraged; I still hope for a
change for the better, and know that it will surely come, for
Scharnhorst still lives and paves the way for more prosperous times.
Yes, certainly, there will be better times; Scharnhorst is secretly
creating an army for us, and when the army has been organized, he
will call me, and I shall put myself beside him at the head of the
troops, and we shall then march against the French emperor with
drums beating; we shall defeat him--drive him with his routed
soldiers beyond the frontiers of Germany, so that he never again
shall dare to return to the fatherland. Providence has spared me so
long for this purpose; I believe that I am chosen to chastise the
insolent Napoleon for all his crimes committed against Germany and
Prussia. I am destined to overthrow him, deliver my country, and
victoriously reestablish my dear king in all his former states.
Napoleon must be hurled from his throne, and I must assist in
bringing about his downfall; and before that has been accomplished I
will and cannot die. [Footnote: Blucher's own words.--Vide his
biography by Varnhagen von Ense, p. 128.] Yes, laugh at me as much
as you please; I am already accustomed to that when talking in this
style; but it will, nevertheless, prove true, and my prophecies will
be fulfilled. You may deride me, but you cannot shake my firm belief
in what I tell you."

"But I do not deride you," said Scharnhorst. "I am glad of your
reliance on Heaven, which, while all were discouraged and
despairing, stood as a rock in the midst of the breakers. I always
looked to you, Blucher; the thought of you always strengthened and
encouraged me, and when I at times felt like giving way to despair,
I said to myself, 'For shame, Scharnhorst! take heart and hope, for
Blucher still lives, and so long as he lives there is hope!'"

"Henceforth," exclaimed Blucher, with radiant eyes, giving his hand
to his friend, "henceforth no one will deny that God has made us for
each other. What you said about me I have repeated to myself every
day about you. What was my consolation when Prussia, after the
treaty of Tilsit, was wholly prostrated and ruined? 'Scharnhorst
still lives!' What did I say to myself when the cowardly ministers,
in the beginning of the present year, had concluded the abominable
alliance with France? 'Scharnhorst still lives!' And when our poor
regiments had to march to Russia as Bonaparte's auxiliaries, I said
to myself: 'Scharnhorst is still there to create a new army, and God
is there to give victory one day to this army, which I shall
command.' Oh, tell me, my friend, what are your plans? What have you
been able to accomplish in regard to the reorganization of the army?
And what about the new officers' regulations which you are having
printed?"

"They have already been printed, and I have brought a copy for you,"
said Scharnhorst, drawing a printed book from his breast-pocket, and
handing it to his friend.

Blucher gazed on it long with grave and musing eyes, read the title-
page, and glanced over the contents. "Scharnhorst," he then said,
solemnly, "this is a great and important work, and posterity only
will appreciate its whole importance, and thank you deservedly for
it. Our old military structure was utterly rotten, and the first
storm, therefore, caused it to break down and fall to pieces. But
Scharnhorst is an architect who knew how to find among the ruins
material for a new and solid structure, and this structure will one
day cause the power of Bonaparte to disappear. This book, which
entirely changes the duties and relations of the officers of all
arms, and transforms our whole military system, is the splendid plan
of the building which you are about to erect. By the introduction of
these regulations the antiquated system which brought upon Prussia
the defeats of Jena and Auerstadt, is abolished; the great
simplicity of the scheme, and its practical spirit, are the best
antidotes against the prevalence of the old-fashioned notions which
have proved so disastrous. You have performed a great work,
Scharnhorst, and Prussia must thank you for it as long as she has an
army."

"I may say at least that I have striven for a grand object," said
Scharnhorst, "and I have left nothing undone in order to attain it.
Many changes had to be made, and many evils eradicated, when the
king, after the calamitous days of Tilsit, placed me at the head of
the commission which was to reorganize the whole Prussian army. We
had to work night and day, for it was incumbent upon us to arrange a
new system of conscription, organize the levies, draw up new
articles of war, and complete the battalions, squadrons, and
batteries. It was, besides, our task to give the army an honorable
position, to constitute the soldier the sacred guardian of the
noblest blessing of all nations--Liberty and nationality; and to
give him a country for which he was to fight. The soldier,
therefore, had to be a citizen; the army was no longer to consist of
hirelings, but of the sons of the country, and to these had to be
intrusted the sacred and inevitable duty of learning the profession
of arms, and of devoting for some time their services to the
fatherland. The citizens had to be transformed into soldiers, and
the name of 'soldier' had, as it was among the Romans, to become a
title of honor. In order to bring this about, it was necessary, too,
that the distinction of birth, to which the government, in
commissioning officers and hitherto paid so much attention, should
be entirely discarded. Every recruit had to know that by bravery,
courage, industry, and intelligence, he might attain the highest
positions, and that the private soldier might become a general."

"That is the very thing by which the aristocratic officers of the
old regime became intensely exasperated against your new system,"
said Blucher. "I know what you had to suffer and contend against,
how many stumbling-blocks were cast in your way, and how they
charged you with being an innovator, and even a republican, trying
to transfer the liberty, equality, and fraternity of the French
sans-culottes into the Prussian army, and to put generals' epaulets
into the knapsack of the low-born recruit. But all these arrows
glanced off from your dear head, which was as hard as a golden
anvil, and they were unable to prevent Scharnhorst from becoming the
armorer of German liberty!"

"But his head has received many a blow," said Scharnhorst, smiling.
"However, he who wages war must expect to be wounded, and it was a
terrible war upon which I entered--one against prejudice and old
established customs--against the rights and privileges of the
aristocracy. God was with me and gave me strength to complete my
work; He gave me, in Blucher, a friend who never refused me his
advice, and, to whose sagacity and courage I am indebted for one-
half of what I have achieved. Without your aid I would often have
given way; but it strengthened me to think of you, and your applause
was a reward for my labors. May we soon be enabled to carry into
effect the new organization of the army!"

"My friend," said Blucher, shaking his head, "God has forgotten us,
I fear, and averted His eyes from Prussia and the whole of Germany.
Napoleon is an instrument in His hands, just as the knout is an
instrument of justice in the hand of the Russian executioner. And it
seems as though the nations deserved much punishment, for He still
holds his instrument firmly in His hands. But patience!--there will
be a time when He will cast it aside, and when we shall arise from
our prostration to take revenge upon our scourge."

"Who knows whether this new era will not dawn at an earlier moment
than we hope and look for," said Scharnhorst, smiling.

Blucher started, and cast a quick glance on his guest.
"Scharnhorst," he said, hastily, "you have brought news, after all.
I felt it as soon as I saw you, and it is no use to deny it any
longer. You know, and want to tell me something. Well, speak out! I
am prepared for every thing! What is it? Has Napoleon gained another
victory? Has he transported the Emperor Alexander to Siberia, and
put the Russian crown on his head at the Kremlin? Have the Russian
people prostrated themselves before him, and, like other nations,
recognized him as their sovereign and emperor? You see, I am
prepared for every thing; for I insist upon it, how high soever he
may build his throne, he must at last descend, and it will be I who
will bring him down. Now, speak out! Has he again obtained a great
victory?"

"No, general," said Scharnhorst, solemnly, "God has obtained a
victory!"

Blucher raised his head, and laid his clay pipe slowly on the table.
"What do you mean, general?" he asked. "What do you mean by saying,
'God has obtained a victory'?"

"I mean to say that He has sent into the field troops whom even
Napoleon is unable to defeat."

"What troops do you refer to?"

"I refer to the cold, the snow, the ice, the howling storm blowing
from Siberia, like the angry voice of Heaven, striking down men and
beasts alike."

"And these troops of God have defeated Napoleon?"

"They have, general!"

Blucher uttered a cry, and, jumping up from his chair, drew himself
up to his full height. "The troops of God have defeated Napoleon!"
he exclaimed, solemnly. "I have always believed in divine justice--
slow sometimes, but sure. Tell me every thing, my friend, tell me
every thing," he added, sinking back into the chair, quite
overwhelmed by what he had heard. "Commence at the beginning, for I
feel that my joy renders this old head confused, and I must
gradually accustom myself to it. Tell me the whole history of the
Russian campaign, for it is the preface I ought to read in order to
be able to understand the book. And, then, in conclusion, tell me
what the good Lord has done, and whether He will now employ His old
Blucher. I feel as though an altar-taper had been suddenly lighted
in my heart, and as though an organ were playing in my head. I must
collect my thoughts. Speak, Scharnhorst, for you see this surprising
news may make me insane." He pressed his hands against his temples
and drew a deep breath.

His wife hastened to him, and with her soft hand caressed his face,
and looked with anxious and tender glances into his wild eyes. "Be
calm, Blucher," she said. "Calm your great, heroic heart, else you
shall and must not hear any thing further. General Scharnhorst, I am
sure you will not tell him anything as long as he is so agitated."

"I will be calm," said Blucher. "You see that I am so already, and
that I sit here as still as a lamb. Scharnhorst, tell me, therefore,
every thing. I am all attention."

"And while listening to him, take again your old friend, which has
so often comforted you in your afflictions--put your pipe again into
your mouth," said Amelia, handing it to him.

But Blucher refused it, almost indignantly. "No," he said, "one does
not smoke at church, nor when the Lord speaks, and Scharnhorst is
about to tell me that the Lord has spoken. While listening to such
words, the heart must be devout, and the lips may bless or pray, but
they must not hold a pipe. And now speak, Scharnhorst; I am quite
calm and prepared for good and bad news."

CHAPTER XII.

THE OATH.

"Speak," said Blucher, once more. "I am prepared for every thing.
Tell me about Bonaparte in Russia."

"You know how victoriously and irresistibly Napoleon penetrated with
the various columns of his army into the interior of Russia," said
Scharnhorst. "Nothing seemed to have been able to withstand him--
nothing powerful enough to arrest his triumphant progress. The
Russian generals, as if panic-stricken, retreated farther and
farther the deeper Napoleon advanced into the heart of the empire.
Neither Kutusoff, nor Wittgenstein, nor Barclay, dared risk the fate
of Russia in a decisive battle; even the Emperor Alexander preferred
to leave the army and retire to Moscow to wait for the arrival of
fresh reenforcements, and render new resources available. Napoleon,
in the mean time, advanced still farther, constantly in search of
the enemy, whom he was unable to find anywhere, and everywhere
meeting another enemy whom he was nowhere able to avoid or conquer.
This latter was the Russian climate. The scorching heat, the
drenching rains, bred diseases which made more havoc in the ranks of
the French than the swords of living enemies would have been able to
do. At the same time supplies were wanting, so that the immense host
received but scanty and insufficient rations. The soldiers suffered
the greatest privations, and the Russian people, incited by their
czar and their priests to intense hatred and fanatical fury, escaped
with their personal property and their provisions from the villages
and the small towns rather than welcome the enemy and open to him
their houses in compulsory hospitality. The French army, reduced by
sickness, privations, and hunger, to nearly one-half of its original
strength, nevertheless continued advancing; it forced an entrance
into Smolensk after a bloody struggle; after taking a short rest in
the ruined, burning, and entirely deserted city, it marched upon
Moscow. In front of this ancient capital of the czars it met at
length on the 7th of September the living enemy it had so long
sought. Bagration, Kutusoff, and Barclay, occupied with their army
positions in front of it in order to prevent the approaching foe
from entering holy Moscow. You know the particulars of the bloody
battle on the Moskwa. The Russians and the French fought on this 7th
of September for eleven long hours with the most obstinate
exasperation, with truly fanatical fury; whole ranks were mowed down
like corn under the harvester's scythe; their generals and
chieftains themselves were struck down in the unparalleled struggle;
more than seventy thousand killed and wounded covered the battle-
field, and yet there were no decisive results. The Russians had only
been forced back, but not defeated and routed in such a manner as to
stand in need of peace, in order to recover from the terrible
consequences of the struggle. To be sure, Napoleon held the battle-
field, and, on the 14th of September, made his entry into Moscow,
but no messengers came to him from Alexander to sue for peace; no
submissive envoys to meet him, as he had been accustomed to see in
other conquered cities, and surrender him the keys; the streets were
deserted, and no excited crowd appeared either there or at the
windows of the houses to witness his entry. The city, whence the
inhabitants and authorities had fled, was a vast gaping grave."

"But the grave soon gave signs of animation," exclaimed Blucher,
excitedly; "the desert was transformed into a sea of fire, and the
burning city gave a horrible welcome to the French. The governor of
Moscow, Count Rostopchin, intended to greet the entering conqueror
with an illumination, and, as he had no torches handy, he set fire
to the houses. He removed the stores and supplies, compelled the
inhabitants to leave, had the fire-engines concealed, ordered
inflammable oils and rosin to be placed everywhere in order to
intensify the fury of the conflagration, and then released the
convicts that they might set fire to the city. The first house
kindled was Rostopchin's own magnificent palace, close to the gates
of Moscow. Well, it is true, Rostopchin acted like a barbarian; but
still the man's character seems grand, and his ferocity that of the
lion shaking his mane, and rushing with a roar upon his adversary.
To be sure, it was no great military exploit to burn down a large
city, but still it was a splendid stratagem, and, in a struggle with
a hateful and infamous enemy, all ways and means are permitted and
justifiable. I do not merely excuse Rostopchin, but I admire his
tremendous energy, and believe, if I were a Russian, I would
likewise have done something of the sort. His act compelled the
enemy soon to leave, as he could not establish his winter-quarters
amid smoking ruins, and to retreat instead of advancing, and obliged
the Emperor Alexander to cease his vacillating course--inasmuch as,
after the conflagration, further attempts at bringing about a
compromise and reconciliation between the belligerents were entirely
out of the question."

"No, general, Rostopchin did not bring this about," exclaimed
Scharnhorst, "but it was our great friend Stein who did it. God
Himself sent Minister von Stein to Russia, that he might stand as an
immovable rock by the side of the mild and fickle Alexander, and
that his fiery soul might strengthen the fluctuating resolutions of
the czar, and inspire him with true faith in, and reliance on, the
great cause of the freedom of the European nations, which was now to
be decided upon the snowy fields of Russia. We owe it to Stein alone
that the peace party at the Russian headquarters did not gain the
emperor over to their side; we owe it to Stein that Alexander
determined to pursue a manly, energetic course; that he refused to
allow the diplomatists to interfere, but left the decision to the
sword alone, and constantly and proudly rejected all the offers of
peace which Napoleon now began to make to him. And Stein found a new
ally in the climate uniting with him in his inexorable hostility to
the French. Napoleon felt that he ought not to await the approach of
winter at Moscow, and on the 18th of October he left the
inhospitable city with the remnants of his army. But winter dogged
his steps; winter attached itself as a heavy burden to the feet of
his soldiers; it laid itself like lead on their paralyzed brain, and
caused the horses, guns, and caissons, to stick fast in the snow and
ice. Winter dissolved the French army. Men and beasts perished by
cold; discipline and subordination were entirely disregarded; every
one thought only of preserving his own life, of appeasing his
hunger, and relieving his distress. Piles of corpses and dead horses
marked the route of this terrible retreat of the French; and when,
on the 9th of November, they entered Smolensk, the whole grand army
consisted only of forty thousand armed men, and crowds of stragglers
destitute of arms and without discipline."

"And still this cruel tyrant and heartless braggart, the great
Napoleon, dared to boast of his victories, and the splendid
condition of his army," exclaimed Blucher, angrily. "And he sent
constantly new bulletins of pretended victories into the world, and
the stupid Germans believed them to be true, the supposed successes
causing them to tremble. I have read these lying bulletins, and the
perusal made me ill. They dwelt on nothing but the victories, the
glorious conduct, and the fine condition of the grand army."

"But now you shall read a new one, friend Blucher," exclaimed
Scharnhorst; "here is the twenty-ninth bulletin, and I will
communicate to you also the latest news from the grand army and the
great Napoleon, which couriers from Berlin and Dresden brought me
last night, and which induced me to set out so early to-day in order
to reach my Blucher, and tell him of a new era. Here is the twenty-
ninth bulletin, and in it Napoleon dares no longer boast of
victories; he almost dares tell the truth."

"Let me read it!" exclaimed Blucher, impatiently seizing the printed
sheet which Scharnhorst handed to him. Gasping with inward emotion,
he began to read it, but his hands soon trembled, and the letters
swam before his eyes.

"I cannot read it through," said Blucher, sighing. "There is a storm
raging in my heart, and it blows out the light of my eyes. Read the
remainder to me, my friend. I have read it to the engagement on the
Beresina, where Napoleon says that General Victor gained another
victory on the 28th of November."

"But this victory consisted only in the fact that General Victor,
with his twelve thousand men, prevented the Russians from reaching
the banks of the Beresina, so that two bridges could be built across
it, and that the ragged wretches composing the grand army could
reach the opposite side of the river. That passage of the Beresina
was a terrible moment, which will never be forgotten by history--a
tragedy full of horrors, wretchedness, and despair. Stein's agents
have sent me Russian reports of this event, which contain the most
heart-rending and revolting details. Books will be written to depict
the dreadful scenes of that day; but neither historians, nor
painters, nor poets, will find words or colors to portray those
unparalleled horrors."

"And does he describe those scenes in his bulletin?" asked Blucher.
"Read me its conclusion. Does he allude to those horrors of the
Beresina?"

"No, general; he speaks only of the victory and the passage across
the river, and then continues: 'On the following day, the 29th of
November, we remained on the battle-field. We had to choose between
two routes: the road of Minsk, and that of Wilna. The road of Minsk
passes through the middle of a forest and uncultivated morasses;
that of Wilna, on the contrary, passes through a very fine part of
the country. The army, destitute of cavalry, but poorly provided
with ammunition, and terribly exhausted by the fatigues of a fifty
days' march, took with it its sick and wounded, and was anxious to
reach its magazines.'"

"That is to say," exclaimed Blucher, "they died of hunger, and, as
he says that they were terribly exhausted by a fifty days' march,
dropped like flies. Oh, it is true, the Emperor Napoleon is very
laconic in his account of that retreat, but he who knows how to
penetrate the meaning of his few lines cannot fail to receive a deep
impression of the wretchedness that unfortunate army had to undergo.
Read on, dear Scharnhorst."