Books: NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER

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"God be praised that you at least have been preserved," said the
emperor, offering his hand to Macdonald. "But you say the troops
have perished? Is, then, that impossible for the soldiers which was
possible for you? Cannot they swim across to this side of the
river?"

"Sire, my escape was almost miraculous. I owe it to my horse, who
carried me across in the agony of despair; I owe it to God, who,
perhaps, wished to preserve a faithful and devoted servant to your
majesty. But, by my side, no less faithful servants were carried
away, and, standing on the other bank, I saw their corpses drifting
along."

"Who were they?" asked Napoleon, abruptly, and almost in a, harsh
tone.

"Sire, General Dumoustier was one; but he is not the victim most to
be lamented of this disastrous day."

"Who is it?" exclaimed the emperor, and, casting around a hasty,
anxious glance, he seemed to count his attendants to see who was
missing.

"Sire," said Macdonald, in a trembling voice, "Prince Joseph
Poniatowsky plunged with his horse into the river--"

"And he perished?" cried Napoleon.

"Yes, sire, he did not reach the opposite bank!"

The emperor buried his face in his hands, and groaned. He sat for
some time motionless. At length he removed his hands from his face,
which looked like marble, bloodless and cold.

"And my soldiers?" he inquired. "Did they endeavor to escape as
Poniatowsky?"

"Yes, sire! Thousands threw themselves into the river, but only a
few succeeded in escaping, while the others fell into the deep and
muddy channel; and those who were on the opposite bank were made
prisoners by the allies, who are now in possession of the city."

"Twenty thousand men lost!" sighed Napoleon, and he relapsed into
gloomy thought. Presently he raised his head again and cast a
flaming glance on Macdonald.

"Marshal," he said, "you will investigate this affair in the most
rigorous manner; you will give me the name of him who has dared to
disobey my orders. He is the murderer of twenty thousand men! He
deserves death, and I shall have no mercy on him!"

"Sire, he stands already before his Supreme Judge! It was the
corporal charged with applying the match as soon as our troops had
all passed. He thought he saw the enemy advancing upon the bridge,
and fired the train, throwing himself into the Elster. He is
drowned!"

"It is good for him," said Napoleon. "God will deal more leniently
with him than I should have done. To horse, gentlemen, to horse!" He
walked slowly and with bowed head to his horse, and murmured,
"Another Beresina! It costs me twenty thousand soldiers!"

The generals followed him, and as they saw him walking with bowed
head, they whispered to one another, "Look at him now, how he is
broken down! That was his very appearance when he returned from
Russia! He has no strength to bear up under misfortune!"

While the emperor and his suite slowly and mournfully took the road
to Mark Ranstadt, the allies made their entrance into Leipsic. At
the head of the procession rode the Emperor of Russia and the King
of Prussia; behind them followed their brilliant staff, and then
came the victorious troops, with colors flying and drums beating.
The cannon still thundered, but louder were the cheers and exultant
acclamations of the people, who crowded the streets by thousands, to
receive the sovereigns and the victorious army. The windows of the
houses were opened, and at them stood their inmates with joyful
faces, holding white handkerchiefs in their hands, with which they
waved their greetings. The friends--the long-yearned-for friends
were there, and they received them with tears, exultation, and
thanksgiving. Merry chimes rang from every steeple, and proclaimed
the resurrection of Germany. The sovereigns rode to the great
square; they halted in front of the very house of the King of
Saxony, but they turned no glance upward to the windows, behind the
closed blinds of which the unfortunate royal family were assembled.
The victors seemed to have forgotten them.

The two monarchs alighted, for now came from the other side the
crown prince of Sweden, Bernadotte, at the head of his guards, and
through the other street approached the commander-in-chief of the
allies, Prince Schwartzenberg. The Russian emperor and the Prussian
king advanced into the middle of the square, and Bernadotte and
Schwartzenberg arrived there simultaneously with them. Suddenly,
deafening cheers rent the air; they drew nearer, and amid these
acclamations Blucher, at the head of his staff, rode up. When he
perceived the monarchs, he stopped his horse and vaulted with
youthful agility from the saddle in order to meet them; but the
Emperor Alexander, anticipating him, was by his side. "God bless
you, heroic Blucher!" he exclaimed, affectionately embracing him,
"You have fulfilled your promise made at Breslau. You have become
the liberator of Germany. Your brave sword and your intrepid heart
have conquered. Come, I must conduct you to the King of Prussia!" He
took Blucher's arm, and, advancing with him, he said, "Sire, I bring
you here your hero, Blucher!"

"You bring me Field-Marshal Blucher!" said the king. "God bless you,
field-marshal!"

"Sire," exclaimed Blucher, "you apply to me an honorary title--"

"Which you deserve," interrupted the king. "Do not thank me, for, if
you do, for conferring a title on you, how shall I thank you, who
have given me by far greater honor? I know what I owe you, Blucher;
your energy, courage, determination, and ardor, have gained ns the
most glorious victories!"

"I have only done my duty, your majesty," said Blucher. "But I think
our work is not half done yet, your majesty; we are to-day in fact
only at the commencement of it. It is not enough for us to drive the
French from Leipsic; we must pursue them, and expel them from
Germany. For this purpose we must make haste. We have no time to
rest on our laurels and sing hymns--the main point is to pursue the
enemy--pursue him incessantly and effectually."

"Again, the hot-headed madcap, whose fiery spirit believes that
every thing is done too slowly," exclaimed the Emperor Alexander,
smiling. "Now I ask you, as the king asked you at Breslau, 'How old
are you?'--you who never need rest, like other poor mortals--myself,
for instance? I confess that, after all this excitement and these
long fatigues, I am longing for repose, and would not take it amiss
if war and pursuit were no longer thought of. But you are always
intent on going forward!"

"Sire," exclaimed the king, who in the mean time had conversed with
General Sacken, "I just learned that your troops have anticipated
me, and given Blucher a title that is far better than mine. At the
gate of Halle they cheered, and called him 'Marshal Forward!'" "Ah,
I should like to embrace my soldiers for this excellent word," cried
Alexander. "That is an honorary title, Blucher, which no prince can
confer, and which only your own merit and the gratitude of the
people can bestow. Yes, you are 'Marshal Forward,' and by that name
history will know you; and Germany will love, praise, and bless you.
You have earned this title by your deeds, and the soldiers have
conferred it upon you as a token of their appreciation. Now, the
soldiers are a part of the people, and the voice of the people is
the voice of God. Heaven bless you, 'Marshal Forward!'"

At this moment a procession was approaching from the other side of
the square, consisting of twenty-four young maidens dressed in
white. All held wreaths in their hands, while the three who headed
the procession carried them on silken cushions. They approached the
emperor, the king, and the crown prince of Sweden, and offered them
the wreaths. [Footnote: The emperor of Austria did not make his
entry with the other monarchs, but came only in the afternoon to
Leipsic, where he remained scarcely an hour. He then returned to
Rotha.--Beitzke, vol. ii.] The emperor took that presented to him,
and pressed it with a quick and graceful movement on Blucher's head.
"I represent the Muse of History," he said, "and crown 'Marshal
Forward' in a becoming manner."

"And I," said the crown prince of Sweden, handing his laurel-wreath
to Prince Schwartzenberg, "I present this to the commander-in-chief
of all our armies, and wish him joy of having achieved a victory
over which so many nations will rejoice, and which will render his
name illustrious now and forever."

"Ah," cried Schwartzenberg, "I have unfortunately been unable to do
much. I have only faithfully carried out my orders, and it is to
them, and to the brave troops, that we are indebted for the
victory," [Footnote: Prince Schwartzenberg's words.--Beitzke, ii.,
639]

The king said nothing; holding his wreath, he looked at it gravely
and musingly. The presentations were over, and the princes prepared
to return to their quarters.

"I hope, sire, we shall all remain together to-day?" remarked
Alexander, turning toward the king.

"Pray excuse me, sire," said Frederick William, bowing, "I intend to
go to Berlin to-night, but I shall be back in a few days."

"But you, I suppose, will remain?" asked Alexander, turning toward
Bernadotte.

"I shall remain, your majesty," said the crown prince of Sweden,
with a polite smile. "My troops are in need of rest."

"Yes, his troops are always in need of rest," murmured Blucher to
himself; "I believe--"

Just then the Emperor Alexander turned toward him. "Well, field-
marshal, and you--you will stay, too, will you not? I pray you to be
my guest to-day."

"Sire, I regret that I cannot accept this gracious invitation," said
Blucher. "I cannot stay, and my troops, thank God! are not in need
of rest. I shall start immediately in pursuit of the enemy. It is
not enough for us to have gained a victory; we must also know how to
profit by it. I shall march this very evening, and take up my
quarters for the night at Skeuditz."

"Marshal Forward! always Marshal Forward!" exclaimed Alexander,
smiling.--"Come, sire, let us hasten to dinner; otherwise he will
not even permit us to dine, but compel us all to set out
immediately." He took the king's arm, and went with him to the
horses standing near. When he was about to vault into the saddle, he
turned toward one of his adjutants. "Ah," he said, "there is another
little matter which I almost forgot!--General Petrowitch, go up
there." He pointed to the house of the King of Saxony. "Inform the
king, in my name, that he is a prisoner. [Footnote: Beitzke, vol.
ii., p. 652] Have a guard of thirty men placed in front of the
house."

On the same evening Blucher rode, by the side of Gneisenau and
attended by his staff, out of the gate of Leipsic, following his
troops already on the road to Skeuditz. "Well," said Blucher,
smoking his pipe, "we cannot deny that there has been an abundant
shower of orders and titles to-day, and that we have all been
thoroughly drenched. So I am a field-marshal now; the Emperor of
Austria has conferred on me the order of Maria Theresa; and the
Emperor of Russia has given me a splendid sword, which I will send
as a souvenir to my Amelia. And you, Gneisenau, I hope you have also
received your share?"

"Why, yes," said Gneisenau, "I have received titles from all the
three monarchs. You are right, there was all day a perfect shower of
them--orders and honors; and not a general, not a dignitary or
diplomatist has been forgotten. Count Metternich, you know, has been
raised by his sovereign to the rank of a prince, in acknowledgment
of his diplomatic services; and Prince Schwartzenberg, already
enjoying the highest Austrian honors, has received permission to add
the escutcheon of the Hapsburgs to his coat-of-arms."

"These two have been in the shower of honors, but very little in the
shower of balls," remarked Blucher, laconically. "I wonder what
rewards will be conferred on the crown prince of Sweden?"

"He has already received the highest Prussian, Austrian, and Russian
orders," replied Gneisenau, scornfully. "As stated before, no one
has been forgotten but ONE!"

"Who is it?" asked Blucher. "Who has been forgotten?"

"Field-marshal, one deserving the most honor--one that joyfully
sacrificed property, blood, and life, who did not demand any reward,
and did every thing for the sake of honor, and from love of country,
and for the princes."

"What!" cried Blucher, angrily. "The monarchs have forgotten to
reward such a one?"

"Yes, field-marshal, they have! This one is the people, the German
people!--the noble, enthusiastic people, who joyously and generously
shed their blood for the deliverance of the fatherland, whose
mothers and wives allowed their sons and husbands exultingly to
march into the field, and made themselves sisters of charity for the
wounded and sick; whose men and youths did not hesitate to leave
their houses, their families, their property, their business, but
readily took up arms to deliver the fatherland; whose aged men
became young, whose children transformed themselves into youths, to
participate in the holy struggle--all these, the great, noble German
people, have received no reward, and not even a promise!"

"But, Gneisenau, how strange you are!" said Blucher, drawing his
mustache through his fingers. "The monarchs have rewarded those whom
they were able to reward. How can they reward the people? What could
they do?"

"They could bestow on them more liberty, more independence and
honor," said Gneisenau. "by giving them the constitution which the
King of Prussia promised to his people in his manifesto of the 17th
of March."

"Yes, that is true," said Blucher, thoughtfully. "Well, Stein is
present, and he will surely remind the king of what he ought to do.
He is a patriot and a true man!"

"Yes, but he is alone," said Gneisenau, mournfully. "His voice will
die away like that of the preacher in the desert. You will see,
field-marshal, these promises will soon be forgotten!"

"Well," exclaimed Blucher, "we shall see. For the time being let us
rejoice that we have fought the great battle of the nations, and
that Napoleon's doom is sealed now. It is all-important for us to
finish him quickly and without mercy. You know my battle-cry: 'He
must be dethroned!'--Oh, pipe-master! Another pipe, this one does
not burn."

As Napoleon and Blucher left Leipsic on the 19th of October, King
Frederick William set out from the city for Berlin to rejoice with
his people, and to thank God for the victory. All Berlin received
the king with exultation, and the 20th of October was a day of
universal joy. Germany was free, and this conviction transported
every heart, and every one wished to greet the king. Thousands
surrounded the royal palace at Berlin all day, and whenever the king
appeared at the windows or on the balcony, they saluted him with
cheers and waving of hats and handkerchiefs. Multitudes thronged
toward the cathedral, to thank God for the glorious victory
vouchsafed to them. In every house were festivities in honor of the
great battle of the nations fought at Leipsic.

But during this universal exultation the king left Berlin, without
his suite, attended only by his old friend, General Kockeritz, and
rode to Charlottenburg. No notice was taken of the unpretending
equipage, drawn by two horses, destitute of escutcheons and
liveries, which drove out of the Brandenburg gate, and the king
reached Charlottenburg without being recognized. He did not,
however, enter the palace, but ordered Kockeritz to fetch the
castellan, that he might open the vault of the royal tomb; then,
wrapping his cloak closer about him, under which he seemed to
conceal something, he trod the dark path leading to the mausoleum.
He paced the gloomy avenue of cypress and pines with a slow step,
absorbed in deep reflection. Holy peace surrounded him--not a sound
of the people's joy reached him--naught disturbed the silence, save
some gentle breeze that rustled the foliage, and as a spirit-voice
greeted the king's return. The recollections of other days, with all
their troubles, came to him, and revived the painful emotions of the
past. He had suffered so much, and alone! And as he had been alone
in his affliction, he was now alone in his prosperity. No one was
with him at this holy hour to understand his heart, except her whose
spirit he believed to be always near him. Grief for the humiliation
of her country occasioned her death; joy and pride in the victory of
her country would, if possible, have reawakened her from the dead.

The king slowly walked toward the mausoleum. The door was open, and
he entered softly. He looked around to assure himself that he was
alone, and that no strange eyes desecrated this devout pilgrimage.
He took off his cloak, and that which he had borne under it was no
longer hidden. It was the laurel-wreath presented on the preceding
day at Leipsic. With this crown of victory in his hand he approached
the black sarcophagus in which reposed all that was mortal of
Louisa! Bending over it, he kissed the place beneath which her head
rested, and laid down the wreath. [Footnote: Eylert, "Characterzuge
aus dem Leben Friedrich Wilhelm III." vol. ii., p. 162.]

"Take it, Louisa," he murmured. "It belongs to you! Your spirit was
with us, and led us to victory. Oh, why did you leave me? Why are
you not with me in the days of prosperity as in the days of
adversity? I have seen your beautiful eyes shed many tears, but now
I cannot see them brighten with joy. I can hear no more your sweet
voice, your merry laughter! I am alone!" He leaned his hands on the
sarcophagus, and, pressing his head on the laurel-wreath, shed
abundant tears. After a long pause, he rose and suppressed his
grief. "Farewell, my Louisa," he said. "I know that you are with me,
and that your love accompanies me! Farewell!" Casting a parting
glance on his wife's tomb, the king left the sacred cell, and walked
slowly toward the palace through the shadowy and silent avenue of
the cypress-trees.

HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS

CHAPTER XL.

BLUCHER'S BIRTHDAY.

Two months had elapsed since the great battle of Leipsic, during
which, to Blucher's unbounded despair, much had been spoken, much
negotiated, many schemes devised, but nothing done. Owing to the
slowness of the allies, Napoleon had succeeded, aside from some
unfortunate engagements during the retreat, in safely returning with
the remnant of his army to France; and this dilatory system of the
allies seemed to be constantly adopted. The armies advanced slowly,
or not at all. For weeks the headquarters had been at Frankfort-on-
the-Main. There were the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia, the
crown prince of Sweden, and Prince Schwartzenberg as representative
of the Emperor of Austria, besides Metternich and Hardenberg, and
the whole army of diplomatists, who deemed it incumbent on them to
put an end with their pens to this war which the swords of the
generals had concluded by a victory. The peace party were
incessantly intent on gaining the allies at headquarters over to
their side, and the crown prince of Sweden and Prince Metternich
stood at their head. Bernadotte cautioned the allies against the
dangers in which an invasion of France would involve them;
Metternich deemed it more advisable for them to conclude an
advantageous peace with the angry lion Napoleon. Blucher kept
murmuringly away from the headquarters, and stayed with his staff at
Hochst, near his troops.

It was the 16th of December. The field-marshal was alone in his
room, and sat on the sofa, in his comfortable military cloak,
smoking his morning pipe. Before him lay a map of Germany, on which
he fixed his eyes, and across which he eagerly moved his fingers
from time to time, drawing lines here and there, and apparently
conceiving plans of operation. The door opened, and Pipe-Master
Hennemann walked in.--In full gala-uniform, holding both hands
behind him, he stood at the door, hoping that his field-marshal
would see and ask him what he wanted. But Blucher did not look up;
he was absorbed in studying his map. Christian Hennemann, therefore,
ventured to interrupt him. "Field-marshal," he said, in a low and
timid voice, "I--"

"Well, what do you want, Christian?" asked Blucher, lifting his eyes
from the map. "What is the matter? Why do you wear your gala-
uniform, and look as if you were about to go on parade? Have you
become a Catholic in this Catholic country, Christian, and are you
celebrating a saint's holiday?"

"Yes, field-marshal," said Christian, resolutely stepping forward,
"I am celebrating the holiday of my saint, and his name is Blucher!"

"He is a queer saint," cried Blucher, laughing. "But what does it
all mean, Christian?"

"It means, field-marshal, that this is your birthday, and that you
are seventy-one years old to-day."

"That is true," said Blucher to himself. "My birthday! I had given
strict orders not to celebrate it, and I had forgotten it myself!"

"But no one can prevent me from celebrating it, your excellency!"
exclaimed Christian. "That would be very pretty, if I could not
congratulate my 'Marshal Forward' on his birthday. Long live my
field-marshal! And may God spare him many years to us yet, that we
may catch Bonaparte at Paris; for, if 'Marshal Forward' does not do
it, no one will!"

"Yes, if they would only let me!" cried Blucher, striking with his
hand on the table; "but they will not! I am sitting here like a pug-
dog in a deal box, and Bonaparte stands outside; I can only bark--I
cannot bite him, for they will not let me out."

"They will have to, your excellency," said Hennemann, quickly, "and
before many pipes are smoked. But I would request your excellency to
be so kind as to smoke this pipe." He drew forth his right hand,
which he had held behind him, and produced a short pipe, neatly
adorned with a rose-colored ribbon terminating in a rosette with two
long ends. "Field-marshal," he said, "in return for all the favors
you have conferred on me, a poor boy, and for having made me, a
stupid peasant-lad, pipe-master of the famous Field-Marshal Blucher,
I take the liberty of presenting you with this short pipe." And
making a polite obeisance, he handed it to the general, who took it
smilingly, and was about to reply, but Christian added, in a louder
voice, "But your excellency must not think that this is a common
pipe. In the first place, it is not made of clay."

"No," said Blucher, contemplating it; "the small tube is made of
wood, and mounted with silver, sure enough; the bowl is carved out
of wood, too, and there is another bowl inside."

"But it is no common wood, your excellency," said Christian,
solemnly. "You remember that I requested a furlough immediately
after the battle of Leipsic, and said I would go home, see my dear
Mecklenburg again, and visit my brothers and sisters. Well, that was
not my principal object; there was another reason why I wanted to
go. I have never forgotten what my General Blucher said when I first
came to him, and what he told us of his mutting--that he still loved
her. Well, I thought it would gladden the field-marshal's heart to
have a little souvenir of his mother. And, therefore, I wended my
way to Rastow, where my dear field-marshal's mother is buried. I
went to her grave, said my prayers, and then cut off a branch from
the linden which stands on her grave. Like every other son of
Mecklenburg, you ought to have a souvenir of your mutting. Here it
is. The tube and the bowl of the pipe I carved out of the branch cut
from the linden, and, that you might know what it is, I cut these
letters in the wood. Read, sir."

"Sure enough, there are letters on it," cried Blucher. "They say
'Souvenir of Mutting!'"

"Yes, that it is," said Christian; "you know, with us, those who
love their mother call her as you did, and therefore I offer you
this souvenir."

"Christian," said Blucher, in a tremulous voice, "that was well
done, and I can tell you that you give me great joy, and that I
shall not forget your kindness. This shall be my gala-pipe, and I
will smoke it on gala-days only, that is to say, when we go into
battle. I thank you a thousand times, Christian, my boy, and if my
dear mutting has not forgotten me, she will look down upon her boy
to-day, who is seventy-one years old, and it will gladden her to
know that he has now a memorial of her--and from her grave! You were
on her grave, then, Christian? How does it look?"

"It was decked with flowers, your excellency, and finches and larks
were chirping in the large linden overshadowing it. The old grave-
digger told me the linden had been planted on the day when Madame
von Blucher was buried, and it was quite a small twig at that time."

"Yes, that is the course of things," said Blucher, mournfully; "when
I saw my mother last, she was a handsome lady, and I was a boy of
sixteen. I have not felt that so many years have elapsed since then,
and I feel myself still as active as a lad. But they tell me I am
decrepit, and that there is but a step between me and the grave."

"Well, I should like to see the giant who could cross that step,"
cried Christian; "a hundred thousand French corpses and Bonaparte's
overturned throne lie in that step between you and the grave."