Books: NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER

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Scharnhorst continued: "'If it must be admitted that it is necessary
for the army to reestablish its discipline, to recover from its long
fatigues, to remount its cavalry, artillery, and materiel, it is
only the natural result of the events which we have just described.
Repose is now, above all, indispensable to the army. The trains and
horses are already arriving; the artillery has repaired its losses,
but the generals, officers, and soldiers, have suffered intensely by
the fatigues and privations of the march. Owing to the loss of their
horses, many have lost their baggage; others have been deprived of
it by Cossacks lying in ambush. They have captured a great many
individuals, such as engineers, geographers, and wounded officers,
who marched without the necessary precautions, and exposed
themselves to the danger of being taken prisoners rather than
quietly march in the midst of the convoys.'"

"And the Cossacks have spared HIM!" exclaimed Blucher, impatiently.
"They did not take him prisoner! What is he doing, then, that the
Cossacks cannot catch him? Tell me, Scharnhorst--the bulletin, then,
does not, like its predecessors, dwell on the heroic exploits of the
great emperor? He does not praise himself as he formerly used to
do?"

"Oh, he does not fail to do so. Listen to the conclusion: 'During
all these operations the emperor marched constantly in the midst of
his guard, the marshal Duke d'Istria commanding the cavalry, and the
Duke de Dantzic the infantry. His majesty was content with the
excellent spirit manifested by the guard, always ready to march to
points where the situation was such that its mere presence sufficed
to check the enemy. Our cavalry lost so heavily, that it was
difficult to collect officers enough, who were still possessed of
horses, to form four companies, each of one hundred and fifty men.
In these companies, generals performed the services of captains, and
colonels those of non-commissioned officers. The "Sacred Legion,"
commanded by the King of Naples and General Grouchy, never lost
sight of the emperor during all these operations. The health of his
majesty never was better.'" [Footnote: Fain, "Manuscrit de 1812."]

"And he dares to proclaim that!" exclaimed Blucher, indignantly.
"His army is dying of hunger and cold, and he proclaims to the
world, as if in mockery, that his health never was better! It is his
fault that hundreds of thousands are perishing in the most heart-
rending manner, and he boasts of his extraordinary good health! He
must have a stone in his breast instead of a heart; otherwise, a
general whose army is perishing under his eyes cannot be in
extraordinary good health. He will be punished for it, and will not
always feel so well."

"He has already been punished, my friend," said Scharnhorst,
solemnly. "It has pleased God to chastise the arrogant tyrant and to
bow his proud head to the dust."

Blucher jumped up, and a deep pallor overspread his cheeks. "He has
been punished?" he asked, breathlessly. "Napoleon in the dust! What
is it? Speak quickly, Scharnhorst; speak, if you do not want me to
die! What has happened?"

"He has left his army, and secretly fled from Russia!"

Blucher uttered a cry, and, without a word, rushed toward the door.
Scharnhorst and Amelia hastened after him and kept him back.

"What do you wish to do?" asked Scharnhorst.

"I wish to pursue him!" exclaimed Blucher, vainly trying to
disengage himself from the hands of his wife and the general. "Let
me go--do not detain me! I must pursue him--I must take him
prisoner! If he has fled from his army, he must return to France,
and if he wants to return to France, he must pass through Germany.
Let me go! He must not be permitted to escape from Germany!"

"But he has already escaped," said Scharnhorst, smiling.

"What! Passed through Germany?" asked Blucher. "And no one has tried
to arrest him?"

"No one knew that he was there. He left his army on the 6th of
December; attended only by Caulaincourt and his Mameluke Roustan,
recognized by no one, expected by no one, he sped in fabulous haste
in an unpretending sleigh through the whole of Poland and Prussia.
Only after he set out was it known at the places where he stopped
that he had been there. He travelled as swiftly as the storm. On the
6th of December he was at Wilna, on the 10th of December at Warsaw,
and in the night of the 14th of December suddenly a plain sleigh
stopped in front of the residence of M. Serra, French ambassador at
Dresden: two footmen were seated on the box, and in the sleigh
itself there were two gentlemen, wrapped in furred robes, and so
much benumbed by the cold that they had to be lifted out. These two
gentlemen were the Emperor Napoleon and Caulaincourt. Napoleon had
an interview with the King of Saxony the same night, and, continuing
his journey, reached Erfurt on the 15th, and--"

"And to-day is already the 17th of December," said Blucher, sighing;
"he will, therefore, be beyond the Rhine. And I must allow him to
escape! I am unable to detain him! Oh, that the little satisfaction
had been granted me of capturing Napoleon! Well, it has been decreed
that this should not be; but one thing at least is settled. Napoleon
has been deserted by his former good luck; Dame Fortune, who always
was seated in his triumphal car, has alighted from it, and now we
may hope to see her soon restored to her old place on the top of the
Brandenburg gate at Berlin. Hurrah, my friend! we are going to rise;
I feel it in my bones, and the time has come when old Blucher will
again be permitted to be a man, and will no longer be required to
draw his nightcap over his ears."

"Yes, the time has come when Prussia needs her valiant Blucher,"
said Scharnhorst, tenderly laying his arm on Blucher's. "Now raise
your head, general--now prepare for action, for Blucher must
henceforth be ready at a moment's notice to obey the call of
Prussia, and place himself at the head of her brave sons, who are so
eager for the fray."

"Yes, yes, we shall have war now," exclaimed Blucher. "Soon the
drums will roll, and the cannon boom--soon Blucher will no longer be
a childish and decrepit old man whom wiseacres think they can mock
and laugh at--soon Blucher will once more be a man who, sword in
hand, will shout to his troops, 'Forward!--charge the enemy!' Great
Heaven, Scharnhorst, and I have not even dressed becomingly--I still
wear a miserable civilian's coat! Suppose war should break out to-
day, and they should come and call me to the army? Why, Blucher
would have to hang his head in shame, and acknowledge that he was
not ready!--John! John!--my uniform! Come to my bedroom, John! I
want to dress!--to put on my uniform!"

Fifteen minutes afterward Blucher returned to the sitting-room,
where his wife was gayly chatting with Scharnhorst. He was not now
the sick, suffering old man whom we saw this morning sitting on the
easy-chair at the window, but he was once more a fiery soldier and a
hero. His head was proudly erect, his eyes were flashing, a proud
smile was playing round his lips; his broad-shouldered form was
clothed in the uniform of a Prussian general; orders were glittering
on his breast, and the long rattling sword hung at his left side.

Blucher approached his wife and General Scharnhorst with dignified
steps, and, giving his hands to both, said in a grave and solemn
voice, "The time for delay, impatience, and folly, is past. With
this uniform I have become a new man. I am no longer an impatient
septuagenarian, cursing and killing flies on the wall because he has
no one else on whom to vent his wrath; but I am a soldier standing
composedly at his post, and waiting for the hour when he will be
able to destroy his enemy. Come, my friends,--come with me!"

He drew the two with him, and walked so rapidly through the rooms
that they were scarcely able to accompany him. They entered the
large reception-room, opened only on festive occasions. It contained
nothing but some tinselled furniture, a few tables with marble tops,
and on the pillars between the windows large Venetian mirrors.
Otherwise the walls were bare, except over the sofa, where hung, in
a finely-carved and gilded frame, a painting, which however was
covered with a large veil of black crape.

Blucher conducted the two to this painting; for a moment he stood
still and gazed on it gravely and musingly, and, raising his right
hand with a quick jerk, he tore down the mourning-veil.

"Queen Louisa!" exclaimed Scharnhorst, admiring the tall and
beautiful lady smiling on him. "Yes," said Blucher, solemnly, "Queen
Louisa! The guardian angel of Prussia, whose heart Napoleon broke!
This pride and joy of all our women had to depart without hoping
even in the possibility that the calamities which ruined her might
come to an end. On the day she died I covered her portrait with this
veil, and swore not to look again at her adored countenance until
able to draw my sword, and, with Prussia's soldiers, avenge her
untimely death. The time has come! Louisa, rise again from your
grave, open once more your beautiful eyes, for daylight is at hand,
and our night is ended. Now, my beautiful queen, listen to the oath
of your most faithful servant!" He drew his sword, and, raising it
up to the painting, exclaimed: "Here is my sword! When I sheathed it
last, I wept, for I was to be an invalid, and should no longer wield
it; I was to sit here in idleness, and silently witness the
sufferings of my fatherland. But now I shall soon be called into
service, and I swear to you, Queen Louisa, that I will not sheathe
this sword before I have avenged your death, before Germany and
Prussia are free again, and Napoleon has received his punishment. I
swear it to you, as sure as I am old Blucher, and have seen the
tears which Prussia's disgrace has often wrung from your eyes. May
God help me! may He in His mercy spare me until I have fulfilled my
oath! Amen!"

"Amen!" repeated Scharnhorst and Amelia, looking up to the portrait.

"Amen!" said Blucher again. "And now, Amelia," he added, quickly,
"come and give me a kiss, and, by this kiss, consecrate your
warrior, that he may deliver Germany and overthrow Napoleon. For
Napoleon must now be hurled from the throne!"

CHANCELLOR VON HARDENBERG.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE INTERRUPTED SUPPER.

It was on the 4th of January, 1813. The brilliant official
festivities with which the beginning of a new year had been
celebrated, were at an end, and, the ceremonious dinner-parties
being over, one was again at liberty to indulge in the enjoyment of
familiar suppers, where more attention was paid to the flavor of
choice wines and delicacies than to official toasts and political
speeches. Marshal Augereau gave at Berlin on this day one of those
pleasant little entertainments to his favored friends, to indemnify
them, as it were, for the great gala dinner of a hundred covers,
given by him on the 1st of January, as official representative of
the Emperor Napoleon.

To-day the supper was served in the small, cozy saloon, and it was
but a petit comite that assembled round the table in the middle of
the room. This comite consisted only of five gentlemen, with
pleasant, smiling faces, in gorgeous, profusely-embroidered
uniforms, on the left sides of which many glittering orders
indicated the high rank of the small company. There was, in the
first place, Marshal Augereau, governor of Berlin, once so furious a
republican that he threatened with death all the members of his
division who would address any one with "monsieur," or "madame"--now
the most ardent imperialist, and an admirer of the Emperor Napoleon.
The gentleman by his side, with the short, corpulent figure and
aristocratic countenance, from which a smile never disappeared, was
the chancellor of state and prime minister of King Frederick William
III, Baron von Hardenberg. He was just engaged in an eager
conversation with his neighbor, Count Narbonne, the faithless
renegade and former adherent of the Bourbons, who had but lately
deserted to Napoleon's camp, and allowed himself to be used by the
emperor on various diplomatic missions. Next to him sat Prince
Hatzfeld, the man on whom, in 1807, Napoleon's anger had fallen, and
who would have been shot as a "traitor" if the impassioned
intercession of his wife had not succeeded in softening the emperor,
and thus saving her husband's life. Near him, and closing the
circle, sat Count St. Marsan, Napoleon's ambassador at the court of
Prussia.

These five gentlemen had already been at the table for several
hours, and were now in that comfortable and agreeable mood which
epicures feel when they have found the numerous courses palatable
and piquant, the Hock sufficiently cold, the Burgundy sufficiently
warm, the oysters fresh, and the truffles well-flavored. They had
got as far as the roast; the pheasants, with their delicate sauce,
filled the room with an appetizing odor, and the corks of the
champagne-bottles gave loud reports, as if by way of salute fired in
honor of the triumphant entry of Pleasure.

Marshal Augereau raised his glass. "I drink this in honor of our
emperor!" he exclaimed, in an enthusiastic tone. The gentlemen
touched each other's glasses, and the three representatives of
France then emptied theirs at one draught. Prince Hatzfeld followed
their example, but Baron von Hardenberg only touched the brim of his
glass with his lips, and put it down again.

"Your excellency does not drink?" asked Augereau. "Then you are not
in earnest?"

"Yes, marshal, I am in earnest," said Hardenberg, smiling, "but you
used a word which prevented me from emptying my glass. You said, 'In
honor of OUR emperor!' Now, I am the devoted and, I may well say,
faithful servant of my master, King Frederick William, and therefore
I cannot call the great Napoleon my emperor."

"Oh, I used a wrong expression," exclaimed Augereau, hastily. "Let
us fill our glasses anew, and drink this time 'the health of the
great emperor Napoleon!'" he touched glasses with the chancellor of
state, and then fixed his keen eyes upon the minister.

Baron von Hardenberg raised the glass to his lips, but then withdrew
it again, and, bowing smilingly to Marshal Augereau, said: "Permit
me, marshal, to add something to your toast. Let us drink 'the
health of the great emperor, and a long and prosperous alliance with
Prussia!'"

"'And a long and prosperous alliance with Prussia,'" repeated the
four gentlemen, emptying their glasses, and resuming their chairs.

"We have just drunk to the success of our divulged secret," said
Prince Hatzfeld, smiling. "For I suppose, your excellency," turning
to Baron von Hardenberg, "this new happy alliance between Prussia
and France is now not much of a secret?"

"I hope it will soon be no secret at all," said Hardenberg. "Prussia
has received the proposition of France with heartfelt joy, and will
hail the marriage of her crown prince Frederick William as the
happiest guaranty of an indissoluble union. Only the crown prince is
too young as yet to marry, and at the present time, at least,
allusions to the happiness of his future should be avoided. His
thoughts should belong only to God and religion, for you know,
gentlemen, that the crown prince will be solemnly confirmed in the
course of a few days. Only after he has pledged his soul to God will
it be time for him to pledge his heart to love; only then
communications will be made to him as to the brilliant future that
is opening for him, and, no doubt, he will, like the king, be ready
to bind even more firmly the ties uniting Prussia with France. He
will be proud to receive for a consort a princess of the house of
Napoleon, for such a marriage will render him a relative of the
greatest prince of his century!"

"Of a prince whom Heaven loves above all others, as it lavishes upon
him greater prosperity than upon others," exclaimed Prince Hatzfeld,
emphatically. "God's love is visibly with him, and protects His
favorite. Who but he would have been able to overcome the terrible
dangers of the Russian campaign, and, with an eagle's flight, return
to France from the snowy deserts of Russia, without losing a single
plume of his wings?"

"It is true," responded Augereau, thoughtfully. "Fortune, or, if you
prefer, Providence, is with the emperor; it protects him in all
dangers, and allows him to issue victoriously from all storms. In
Russia he was in danger of ruining his glory and his army, but the
battle of Borodino, and still more that on the banks of the
Beresina, saved his laurels. The emperor travelled deserted roads,
without an escort or protection, through Poland and Germany, in
order to return to France. If he had been recognized, perhaps it
might have entered the heads of some enthusiasts to attack and
capture him on his solitary journey; but the eyes of his enemies
seemed to have been blinded. The emperor was not recognized, and
appeared suddenly in Paris, where the greatest excitement,
consternation, and confusion, were prevailing at that moment. For
Paris had just then been profoundly moved by the deplorable
conspiracy of General Mallet, and the Parisians were asking each
other in dismay whether General Mallet might not have been right
after all in announcing that Napoleon was dead, and whether his
death was not kept a secret merely from motives of policy. Suddenly
Napoleon appeared in the streets of Paris. All rushed out to behold
the emperor, or touch his horse, body, hands, or feet, to look into
his eyes, to hear his voice, and satisfy themselves that it was
really Napoleon--not an apparition. Their cheers rang, and, in their
happiness at seeing him again in their midst, they pardoned him for
having left their sons and brothers, fathers and husbands, as frozen
corpses on the plains of Russia. Never before had Napoleon enjoyed a
greater triumph as on the day of his return from the Russian
campaign. Fortune is the goddess chained to the emperor's triumphal
car, and the nations therefore would act very foolishly if they
dared rise against him."

"Happily, they have given up all such schemes," said Hardenberg,
smiling, and quietly cutting the pheasant's wing on his silver
plate. "They are asking and longing only for peace in order to dress
their wounds, cultivate their fields, and peaceably reap the
harvest."

"And the word of the Emperor Napoleon is a pledge to nations that
they shall be enabled to do so," exclaimed St. Marsan. "He wants
peace, and is ready to make every sacrifice to conclude and maintain
it."

"The German princes, of course, will joyously offer him their hands
for that purpose," said Hardenberg, bowing his head. "In truth, I
could not say at what point of Germany war could break out at this
juncture. The princes of the German Confederation of the Rhine have
long since acknowledged the Emperor of the French as their master,
and themselves as his obedient vassals. Powerful Austria has allied
herself with France by the ties of a marriage, and the hands of
Maria Louisa and Napoleon are stretched out in blessing over the two
countries. Poor Prussia has not only proved her fidelity as an ally
of France, but is now, forgetful of all her former humiliations,
ready to consent to a marriage of her future king with a Napoleonic
princess. Whence, then, could come a cause for a new war between
France and Germany? We shall have peace, doubtless--a long and
durable peace!"

"And that will be very fortunate," said Count Narbonne, "for then it
will no longer be necessary for us to allow miserable politics to
poison our suppers. 'Politics,' said my great royal patron, King
Louis XVI, the worthy uncle of the Emperor Napoleon, 'politics know
nothing of the culinary art; they spoil all dishes, and care,
therefore, ought to be taken not to allow them to enter the kitchen
or the dining-room. One must not admit them even directly after
eating, for they interfere with digestion; only during the morning
hours should audiences be given to them, for then they may serve as
Spanish pepper, imparting a flavor to one's breakfast.' That was a
very sagacious remark; I feel it at this moment when you so cruelly
sprinkle politics over this splendid pheasant."

"You are right," exclaimed Hardenberg, laughing, "I therefore beg
your excellency's pardon; for Spanish pepper, which is very
palatable in Cumberland sauce, and a few other dishes, is surely
entirely out of place when mixed with French truffles."

"Unhappy man," exclaimed Narbonne, with ludicrous pathos, "you are
again talking politics, and moreover of the worst sort!"

"How so?" asked Count St. Marsan. "What displeases you in the
remarks of Minister von Hardenberg?"

"Well, did you not notice that his excellency alluded to our
unsuccessful efforts in Spain? Spanish pepper, he said, is surely
entirely out of place when mixed with French truffles, but very
palatable in English sauces. That is to say, Spain and England are
good allies, and Spain and France will never be reconciled. And it
is true, it is a mortal war which Spain is waging against us, and
unfortunately one which, offers us but few chances of success. The
Spaniards contest every inch of ground with the most dogged
obstinacy, and they have found very valuable auxiliaries in Lord
Wellington and his English troops. They--"

"Ah, my dear count," exclaimed Marshal Augereau, smiling, "now it is
you who talk politics, and it behooves you no longer to accuse us."

"You are right, and I beg your pardon," said Narbonne; "but you see
how true the old proverb proves: 'Bad examples spoil good manners.'
Let us talk no longer about pepper, but truffles. Just compare this
truffle from Perigord with the Italian truffle at the entremets, and
you will have to admit that our Perigord truffle is in every respect
superior to the latter. It is more savory and piquant. There can be
no doubt of it that Perigord furnishes the most palatable fruit to
the world."

"What fruit do you allude to?" asked Hardenberg, smiling. "Do you
refer to the Perigord truffle, or to the Abbot of Perigord, the
great Talleyrand?"

"I see you are lost beyond redemption," said Narbonne, sighing,
while the other gentlemen burst into laughter. "Even in the face of
a truffle you still dare to amuse yourself with political puns, and
confound intentionally an abbot with a truffle! Oh, what a blasphemy
against the finest of all fruits--I allude, of course, to the
truffle--oh, it is treason committed--"

Just then the door of the saloon was hastily opened, and the first
secretary of the French embassy entered the room.

"What, sir!" shouted Count St. Marsan to him, "you come to disturb
me here? Some important event, then, has taken place?"

The secretary approached him hurriedly. "Yes, your excellency," he
said, "highly important and urgent dispatches have arrived. They
come from the army, and an aide-de-camp of Marshal Macdonald is
their bearer. He has travelled night and day to reach your
excellency at an earlier moment than the courier whom General von
York no doubt has sent to the King of Prussia. Here are the
dispatches which the aide-de-camp of the marshal has brought for
you, and which he says ought immediately to be read by your
excellency." He handed the count a large sealed letter, which the
latter eagerly accepted and at once opened.

A profound silence now reigned in the small saloon. The faces of the
boon companions at the table had grown grave, and all fixed their
eyes with an anxious and searching expression upon the countenance
of Count St. Marsan. He read the dispatch at first with a calm and
indifferent air, but suddenly his features assumed an expression of
astonishment--nay, of anger, and a gloomy cloud covered his brow.

"All right," he then said, turning to the secretary. "Return to the
legation. I will follow you in a few minutes." The secretary bowed
and withdrew. The five gentlemen were again alone.

"Well," asked Marshal Augereau, "were the dispatches really
important?"

Count St. Marsan made no immediate reply. He looked slowly around
the circle of his companions, and fixed his eyes with a piercing
expression on the countenance of Chancellor von Hardenberg. "Yes,"
he said, "they contain highly important news, and I wonder if his
excellency the chancellor of state has not yet received them, for
the dispatches concern above all the Prussian army."

"But I pledge your excellency my word of honor that I do not know
what you refer to," said Hardenberg, gravely. "I have received no
courier and no startling news from the Prussian army."

"Well, then," said St. Marsan, bowing, "permit me to communicate it
to you. General York, commander of the Prussian troops belonging to
the forces of Marshal Macdonald, has refused to obey the marshal's
orders. He has gone even further than that, concluding a treaty with
Russia, with the enemy of France and Prussia; and signed at
Tauroggen, with the Russian General von Diebitsch, a convention by
virtue of which he severs his connection with the French army, and,
with the consent of Russia, declares that the Prussian corps
henceforth will be neutral."