Books: NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER

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"But, general," said Gneisenau, when the courier galloped off, "as
yet Napoleon does not seem to think of retreating. He maintains his
position and offers a bold front."

"He will not do so to-morrow," said Blucher, laconically. "If we do
to-day what we can. he is annihilated. God grant that our victory
may be followed up, and that they may not grow soft-hearted again at
headquarters! The Emperor of Austria never forgets that Bonaparte is
his son-in-law; nor the crown prince of Sweden that he is a native
of France, and he would like to spare his countrymen further
bloodshed; nor the Emperor of Russia, that at Erfurt he plighted
eternal fidelity to Napoleon, and kissed him as his brother. But our
king, I believe, will always remember that Bonaparte humiliated and
oppressed us, and that Queen Louisa died of grief and despair. He
will not suffer the others to make peace too early, and cause us to
shed our blood and spend our strength for nothing. We must be
indemnified, and it is by no means enough for us merely to gain a
victory over Bonaparte. He must surrender all that he has taken from
us. Germany must have satisfaction, and I must have mine, too; for
the anger I have felt for years has almost killed me. I want to be
even with him, and shall not rest before he is hurled from his
throne.--What is going on there? Why are they cheering yonder? Look,
Gneisenau, one of the enemy's columns is advancing upon us. Do you
hear the music? What does it mean?"

"It means, general," shouted an orderly, who galloped up, "that the
Saxons are coming over to us. With thirty-two field-pieces, and
drums beating, they have left the lines of the French, and, when
these tried to prevent them, they turned their bayonets against
their former comrades."

Blucher's eye lit up. "Well," he said, "now they will no longer
extol Bonaparte's extraordinary luck. To-day at least he has none.
The Saxons have felt at last that they are Germans, and wish to
purge themselves of their disgrace. I say, Gneisenau, Bonaparte must
retreat to-morrow." And what Blucher said here to Gneisenau was what
Berthier said to Napoleon: "The battle is lost! We must retreat."

Night came. It is true, the French remained on the field; they did
not flee, but they had no strength to continue the battle; their
ammunition was exhausted, for they had discharged on this day an
incredible amount of cannon-shot. Napoleon felt that he had
certainly to retreat, and submit to what was inevitable. At the
camp-fire, near the turf-mill, sat the emperor; his generals
surrounded him, and listened in silence to his words, falling from
his lips slowly and sadly. He ordered dispositions to be made for a
retreat, and Berthier repeated the orders to his two adjutants, who
were kneeling on the other side of the camp-fire, and writing them
down. Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, Napoleon paused, and
his head dropped on his breast. The emperor had fallen asleep!

His generals, respecting this respite from sorrow and misfortune,
preserved silence. The fire shed a blood-red lustre over the group;
at times the flames flickered up higher, and illuminated the form of
the emperor, who, with his head on his breast, his arms hanging down
on both sides of the camp-stool, his body gently moving to and fro,
was still wrapped in slumber. At times, when the fire blazed up, and
shed a flood of light on the plain, shadows were seen emerging from
the gloom, and a long line moved past. It was a portion of the
imperial army already retreating toward Leipsic.

A quarter of an hour thus elapsed when Napoleon gave a slight start,
and, raising his head, cast a long look of astonishment on the
persons surrounding him. His sleep had made him for an instant
forget his troubles, but the sombre glances of his generals and the
noise of the troops filing by, reminded him of what had happened.
His eye resumed its calm expression, and, in a firm, sonorous voice
he recommenced giving his orders. Suddenly a whizzing sound was in
the air above him--a grenade fell to the ground close to the
emperor, burrowed into the earth, and scattered the camp-fire.

"It is a cold night," said the emperor, composedly; "make up the
fire again, and add fresh fuel!"

The adjutants ran to collect the firebrands, and the generals
themselves hastened to pile on the fuel. But another whizzing sound
rent the air, and another grenade fell into the fire, which had just
blazed up again; it almost extinguished the flames, and remained in
the midst of the coals.

Napoleon gazed musingly on the ball, and strange thoughts probably
filled his soul at the sight of this messenger at his feet.
[Footnote: Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 615.] "It is enough," he said
calmly; "no more fire may be kindled! My horse! To Leipsic! I will
spend the night there." The horses were brought; attended by
Berthier, Caulaincourt, and a few orderlies, the emperor rode to
Leipsic, and took up his quarters at the Hotel de Prusse.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER.

It was eight o'clock on the following morning. A dense fog covered
Leipsic as with an impenetrable veil, and extended far over the
landscape. No one could see as yet, in the darkness of the night,
what had been done by friend or foe. At times the allies heard loud
explosions, and saw flashes on the side of the French; then all was
dark and silent again. Suddenly, however, a bright glare illuminated
the night, for in the French camp large fires blazed, and, like a
flaming serpent, stretched our far into the plain.

"Ha!" said Blucher; "Gneisenau, I was right after all: Bonaparte is
retreating. Do you know the meaning of those fires? The French have
placed their caissons on both sides of the road, and set them on
fire, that they may serve as beacons to the retreating troops. See!
they reach up to the city of Leipsic. It is as I said; the French
intend to march through that city, and retreat across the Saale.
Well, I think General York will await them there, and Langeron will
finish them. But come, Gneisenau, the fog is clearing. Let us ride
to yonder knoll; we shall be able to see better there."

With the nimbleness of a lad Blucher mounted his horse, and, no
longer restraining his impatience, he galloped off. Gneisenau rode
by his side, and at some distance behind him trotted the pipe-
master, with the iron box on the pommel of his saddle.

They reached the crest of the knoll and stopped. The fog had
disappeared, and they could distinctly see a field of horror and
desolation as far as their eyes reached. The immense plain was
covered far and wide with piles of corpses; rivulets of blood
intersected the down-trodden soil; fragments of wagons, cannon, and
vast heaps of horses, lay in wild disorder, and all around the
horizon gleamed the dying fires of upward of twenty villages.

Blucher cast a mournful look on this harrowing spectacle.
"Gneisenau," he said, "it is almost impossible for one to rejoice
over this victory, for it costs too many tears--too much blood. How
those poor brave men are lying there, dead or dying, and have not
even a grave at which their mothers and wives may weep! May the good
God in heaven have mercy on their souls, and comfort those who are
weeping for them!" He took off his cap, and, shading his face with
it, uttered a short, low prayer for the repose of the dead. With a
quick jerk he then put on his cap again. "Well," he said, "we have
prayed, and we will now try to find that accursed Bonaparte, who is
at the bottom of all this carnage, and--"

At this moment the pipe-master galloped up to his general.

"Well, what do you want, Christian?"

"The morning pipe," said Christian, presenting the short pipe to his
master.

Blucher stretched out his hand for it, but drew it back and cast a
glance on the piles of dead which covered the battle-field. "No,
pipe-master," he said, solemnly, "it would be unbecoming to smoke
here. We should show our respect for the dead; but hold the pipe in
readiness for me, and when we ride back I will take it. Now, get out
of my way, that I may no longer see the pipe, else--Begone,
Christian!"

"No, I shall stay," said the pipe-master, coolly; "I have promised
the general's wife always to stay near him, and, besides, you will
soon need me, for you will not stand it long without your pipe. Call
me, your excellency, when you want me." He moved his horse a few
steps back, and was busily occupied in keeping the general's pipe
lit.

Blucher and Gneisenau in the mean time were keenly looking to the
side of the French camp; but not a vestige of it was to be seen.
There could be no doubt now that Napoleon had commenced retreating;
he had profited by the night to remove the remnants of his army
toward Leipsic, that they might still be able to cross the Saale
without hinderance. Blucher uttered a loud cry of joy. "He is
retreating! Gneisenau, am I right now?"

"Yes, general, you are. With your sagacity you have divined
Napoleon's plans better than the rest of us, and, thanks to your
wise dispositions, he will find Langeron and Sacken at the gates of
Leipsic, and York on the banks of the Saale."

"My dear sir, he will find us, too," exclaimed Blucher, in great
glee. "We are not through yet; I know Napoleon thoroughly. You
think, perhaps, that he has merely rested at Leipsic, and will
evacuate the city without fighting? No, sir, then you do not know
much about him. He will not yield an inch unless he must. By a
battle in and around Leipsic, he intends to cover the retreat of his
army, and I tell you, Gneisenau, we shall have hard work yet.
Forward!"

"Yes, forward!" cried Gneisenau. "We must dispatch couriers to all
the generals, and send them the glad tidings."

"Now comes the last assault," shouted Blucher. "We must take the
city by storm; and this will blow Bonaparte over the Rhine, and back
to France, like a bundle of rags! Forward! Pipe-master, my pipe! We
will attack them!"

At ten in the morning the cannon commenced booming again around
Leipsic. The city was attacked on all sides by the armies of the
allies. In the south stood the commander-in-chief, Prince
Schwartzenberg, with the Austrian army; in the east, the Russian
General Benningsen and the crown prince of Sweden; in the north,
Blucher, with the Prussians, and the Russian corps under General
Sacken.

"Charge!" shouted Blucher to his troops. "General Bulow has attacked
the Halle gate; we must hasten to his assistance, for the French are
stubborn."

At this moment another volley of grape-shot was discharged from the
pieces which the French had placed inside the city, and hurled death
and destruction into the ranks of the assailants.

"We must reenforce Bulow," cried Blucher! "General Sacken must
advance his troops! We must hurl light infantry against the gate!
Charge! Forward!" And, brandishing his sword, Blucher galloped to
the side of General Sacken, who was moving with the Russians toward
the point of attack.

"Forward!" thundered Blucher to the troops. The Russians did not
understand him, but they saw his countenance radiant with impatience
and warlike ardor, his flashing eyes, and uplifted hand pointing the
sword at the gate, and they understood his meaning.

"Perod!" shouted the Russians, exultingly. "Forward! Perod!"

The grape-shot of the enemy, and the rattling fire of the French
skirmishers behind the walls, drowned their shouts. But when the
artillery ceased and the smoke disappeared, they saw again the face
of the old general with his young eyes, and the long white mustache,
He halted on his horse in the midst of the shower of bullets fired
by the skirmishers, and uttered again and again his favorite
command.

"Marshal Perod!" shouted the Russians. "He is a little Suwarrow!
Long live little Suwarrow! Long live Marshal Forward!" and, amid
renewed battle--cries in honor of Blucher, and with resistless
impetuosity, the Russians assaulted the gate.

While these scenes were passing outside the city, Napoleon remained
within. He had sat up till daylight with Caulaincourt and Bertmer,
receiving reports and issuing orders; toward morning he had slept a
little, and now, at ten o'clock, he dictated his last orders to the
two generals. In the streets were heard the roar of artillery, the
crashing of falling buildings, the wails, shrieks, and shouts of the
terrified inhabitants. The field-pieces rattled past, regiments
trotted along, and disappeared around the corners, constituting a
scene of indescribable terror and destruction; but here, in the
emperor's room, every thing presented a spectacle of peace and
repose. Caulaincourt and Berthier sat at their desks, writing. The
emperor was slowly walking up and down. He did not even listen to
the noise outside; he dictated his orders in a calm, firm voice, and
his face was as immovable as usual.

"Marshal Macdonald," said the emperor, concluding his instructions,
"is commissioned to defend the city and the suburbs; for this
purpose he will have his own corps, and those of Lauriston,
Poniatowsky, and Keynier. He will hold the city until the corps of
Marmont and Ney have evacuated it, and the rear-guard safely
withdrawn. As soon as these troops have crossed the Pleisse, the
bridge will be blown up." He nodded to his generals, and, striding
across the room, opened the door of the antechamber. "To horse,
gentlemen!" he shouted to the generals assembled there. "We must
start for Erfurt!" He slowly descended the staircase and mounted his
horse, the generals and adjutants following him in silence.

But the emperor did not turn his horse toward the side where the
troops were marching along in heavy columns; he rode to the market-
place, and halted in front of a large, old-fashioned house in the
middle of the square. The King of Saxony and his consort lived
there. "Wait!" said the emperor to his suite, alighting from his
horse, and walking past the saluting sentinels into the house.

In the small sitting-room up-stairs were old King Frederick
Augustus, his consort, and the Princess Augusta. The king sat with
his hands folded on his knees, and his lustreless eye fixed on the
windows, trembling incessantly from the roar of artillery and the
rattle of musketry. The queen was near him, and whenever the volleys
resounded, she groaned, and covered her face with her handkerchief,
which was already moist with tears. The Princess Augusta knelt in a
corner of the room, praying, while tears were rolling down her
cheeks.

"Oh," murmured the queen when another rattle of musketry rent the
air, "why does not a bullet strike my heart!"

"Father in heaven, and all saints, have mercy on us!" prayed the
princess.

"Grant victory to the great and noble Emperor Napoleon, my God!"
sighed the king. "I love him as a father, and he has always treated
me with the love of a son. I have remained faithful to him when all
the others betrayed him. Punish not my constancy, therefore, my Lord
and God; grant victory to Napoleon, that happiness may be restored
to me!"

A cry burst from the lips of the queen, and she started up from her
seat. "The emperor!" she cried, looking toward the door.

Yes, in the open door that form in the gray, buttoned-up overcoat,
with the small hat, and pale, stony face, was the Emperor
Napoleon's. "I come to bid you farewell," he said, stepping slowly
and calmly to the king.

"Farewell!" groaned Frederick Augustus, sinking back. "All is lost,
then!"

"No, not all, sire," said Napoleon, solemnly. "We have lost a
battle, but not our honor. The fortune of battles is fickle. After
twenty years of victory, it has this time declared against me. But
honor remains to me. I have, for four days, held out against an army
three times as large as mine in troops, as well as in artillery, and
they have not overpowered me. I have voluntarily evacuated the
battle-field, not in a wild flight as did the Prussians at Jena, and
the Austrians at Austerlitz. Our honor is intact. With that we must
content ourselves this time."

"Oh, sire," cried the king, with tearful eyes, "how generous you
are! You speak of our honor! But _I_ have lost my honor, for my
troops have committed treason--they deserted my noble, beloved ally
during the battle! Oh, sire, pardon me! I am innocent of the
defection of my troops!" And, rising, the king made a movement as if
to kneel; but Napoleon held him in his arms, and then gently pressed
him back into the easy-chair. "Sire," he said, "treason is a disease
which, by this time, has become an epidemic in Germany. All those
who are now fighting against me are traitors, for all of them were
my allies, and, while still negotiating with me, they had already
formed a league against me. Your Saxons were infected by the troops
from Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and Baden."

"Alas," sighed the king, "I had a better opinion of my Saxons! They
have turned traitors, and my heart will always remain inconsolable."

"But this is no time for giving way to grief," said Napoleon. "Your
majesty must leave Leipsic immediately. You must not expose yourself
to the dangers of a capitulation, which, unfortunately, has become
unavoidable. Come, sire, intrust yourself to my protection. By my
side, and in the midst of my troops, you will be safe."

"No," said the king, resolutely; "I remain! Let them kill me; I am
tired of the dangers of flight! But you, sire, you must make haste!
Leave us!--your precious life must not be endangered! Every minute
renders the peril more imminent! Hasten to preserve yourself to your
people, your consort, and your son!"

"My son!" said Napoleon, and for the first time something like an
expression of pain flashed over his features. "Poor little King of
Rome, from whose blond ringlets his own grand-father wants to tear
the crown!" He dropped his head on his breast.

"Sire, make haste!" implored the king.--"Make haste!" echoed the
queen and the princess.

At this moment there was a terrific roar of artillery. The queen
buried her face in her hands; the princess had knelt again and
prayed; the king leaned his head against the back of the chair, pale
as a corpse, and with his eyes closed. Napoleon alone stood erect;
his face was calm and inscrutable; his glances were turned toward
the windows, and he seemed to listen eagerly to the thunders of war.

The door was violently opened, and General Caulaincourt appeared,
pale and breathless.

"Sire," he said, "you must leave! Bernadotte has taken one of the
suburbs by assault, and the forces of Blucher, Benningsen, and
Schwartzenberg, are pouring in on all sides into the city, so that
our troops are compelled to defend themselves from house to house."

"Sire, have mercy!--save yourself!" cried the king. "I can no longer
help you, no longer support you! I have nothing left to give you--
nothing but my life, and that is of no value! Save yourself, unless
you want me to die at your feet!"

"Sire," exclaimed Caulaincourt, "every minute increases the danger.
A quarter of an hour hence your majesty may, perhaps, be unable to
get out of the captured city." Napoleon turned with a haughty
movement toward his general. "Nonsense," he said, "have I not a
sword at my side? But, as you wish me to go, sire--as you are
alarmed, I will leave! Farewell! May we meet in happier
circumstances!"

"Sire, up there!" said the king, solemnly, pointing toward heaven.
He then quickly rose from his seat, and approaching Napoleon, who
had taken leave of the queen and the princess, took his arm and
conducted him hastily out of the room, through the corridor, and
down the staircase. At the foot he stood, and clasping the emperor
in his arms, whispered, "Farewell, sire; I feel it is forever! I
shall await you in heaven! Not another word now, sire! Make haste!"
He turned, and slowly reascended the staircase. The emperor mounted
his horse, and directed his course toward the gate of Ranstadt.
Behind him rode Berthier, Caulaincourt, and a few generals; a
mounted escort followed them.

The streets presented a spectacle of desolation and horror, which,
the closer they approached the gate, became more heart-rending.
Field-pieces, caissons, soldiers on foot and on horseback, screaming
women, wounded and dying cows, sheep, and swine, entangled in an
enormous mass, made it impossible to pass that way. Napoleon turned
his horse, and took the road to St. Peter's gate. Slowly, and with
perfect composure, he rode through Cloister and Burg Streets. Not a
muscle of his fane betrayed any uneasiness or embarrassment; it was
grave and inscrutable as usual.

When he arrived at the inner St. Peter's gate, he found the crowd
and confusion to be nearly as great as at that of Ranstadt; he did
not turn his horse, but said, in a loud voice, "Clear a passage!"
The generals and the mounted escort immediately rode forward, and,
unsheathing their swords and spurring their horses, galloped into
the midst of the crowd, driving back those who could flee, trampling
under foot those who did not fall back quick enough, and removing
the obstacles which obstructed their passage. In five minutes a way
was cleared for the emperor--the wounded lying on both sides, and a
few corpses in the middle of the street, showed how violently the
cortege had penetrated the obstructing mass. The emperor took no
notice of this; he was silent and indifferent, while his escort
attacked the crowd, and rode on as if nothing had occurred.

At length the city lay behind him; he had passed the bridge across
the Elster, and reached the mill of Lindenau, where he intended to
establish his headquarters. Constant and Roustan had already reached
the place with the emperor's carriages, and prepared a room for him.
Napoleon rapidly stepped into it, and, greeting Constant with a nod,
he said, "Only a little patience! In a week we shall be in Paris,
and there you shall all have plenty of repose! We shall leave our
beautiful France no more! Ah, how the Empress will rejoice, and how
charming it will be for me again to embrace the little King of
Rome!"

It was touching and mournful, indeed, to hear this man, usually so
cold and reserved, this general who had just lost a great battle,
speak of his return home and his child in so gentle and affectionate
a tone, and to see how his rigid features became animated under the
charm of his recollections, and how the faint glimmer of a mournful
smile stole upon his lips. But it soon disappeared, and, with a
sigh, the emperor drooped his head.

"Your majesty ought to try to sleep a little," said Constant, in an
imploring voice.

"Yes, sleep!" exclaimed Napoleon. "To sleep is to forget!"

It was the first, the only complaint which he allowed to escape his
lips, and he seemed to regret it, for, while he threw himself on the
field-bed, he cast a gloomy glance on Constant, and, as if to prove
how easy it was for him to forget, he fell asleep in a few minutes.

From the neighboring city resounded the artillery, indicating the
final struggle of the French and the allies. The emperor's slumber
was not disturbed, for the roar of battle was too familiar to him.
Suddenly, however, there was a terrific explosion that shook the
earth; the windows of the room were shattered to pieces, and the bed
on which the emperor was reposing was pushed from the wall as if by
invisible arms. He sprang to his feet and glanced wonderingly
around. "What was that?" he inquired. "It was no discharge of
artillery, it was an explosion!" He quickly left the mill and
stepped out of the front door. There stood the generals, and looked
in evident anxiety toward Leipsic. Here and there bright flames were
bursting from the roofs of the houses; one-half of the city was
wrapped in clouds of smoke, so that it was impossible to distinguish
any thing.

"An explosion has taken place there," said Napoleon, pointing to
that side.

At this moment several horsemen galloped rapidly toward the mill;
they were headed by the King of Naples in his uniform, decked with
glittering orders. A few paces from the emperor he stopped his horse
and alighted.

"Murat," shouted the emperor to him, "what has happened?"

"Sire," he said, "a terrible calamity has occurred. The bridge
across the Elster, the only remaining passage over the river, has
been blown up!"

"And our troops?" cried the emperor.

"Sire, the rear-guard, twenty thousand strong, are still on the
opposite bank, and unable to escape."

The emperor uttered a cry, half of pain, half of anger. "Ah," he
exclaimed, "this, then, is the way in which my orders are carried
out! My God! twenty thousand brave men are lost--hopelessly lost!"
He struck both his hands against his temples.

No one dared disturb him; his generals surrounded him, silent and
gloomy. Presently, some horsemen galloped up; at their head was a
general, hatless and in a dripping uniform.

"Sire, there comes Marshal Macdonald," exclaimed Murat.

Napoleon hastened forward to meet the marshal, who had just jumped
from his horse.

"You come out of the water, marshal?" inquired Napoleon, pointing to
his wet uniform.

"Yes, sire. By swimming my horse across, I have escaped to this side
of the river, and I come to inform your majesty that the troops
intrusted to me have perished through no fault of mine. Sire, they
were twenty thousand strong, and I come back alone. I come to lay my
life at the feet of your majesty."