Books: NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER

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But Blucher's apprehensions were not to be verified. All the corps
on which he had counted in drawing up his plan of operations arrived
at the stated hour, and precisely at noon appeared the Emperor of
Russia, the King of Prussia, and Prince Schwartzenberg, with their
numerous and brilliant suites. The monarchs surveyed the position of
the two armies from the heights of Trannes, and had Blucher explain
his plan to them in his brief and energetic manner.

The Emperor Alexander then turned with a gentle smile toward Prince
Schwartzenberg, commander-in-chief of the allied forces. "And what
do you think of this plan of the brave field-marshal?"

"It is as well conceived as it is bold," said Schwartzenberg, "and I
beg leave to intrust the command of the whole army to Field-Marshal
Blucher. I renounce the privilege of directing the operations of to-
day, and leave every thing to the discretion of the field-marshal."

Blucher's eyes sparkled with delight, and a glow suffused his
cheeks. "Prince," he exclaimed, offering his hand to Schwartzenberg,
"this is an honor for which I shall always be grateful to you. You
have a generous heart, and know that I must take revenge for the
disastrous affair of Brienne. I thank you, prince, for giving me an
opportunity. Now I shall prove to their majesties that Bonaparte is
not invincible, or, if I cannot prove it to them, I shall die!
Hurrah! Let us begin!" He galloped with the impatience and ardor of
a youth to the front of the troops, which put themselves rapidly in
motion, and rushed like a torrent down the heights of Trannes.

Soon the artillery commenced to boom, and transmitted Blucher's
battle-cry to Napoleon. The emperor, who had intended to retreat
with his small army, in order to avoid a fight, now halted his
troops, and formed them into line. As the allies were advancing with
great impetuosity, a further retreat would have been equivalent to
flight. Napoleon, therefore, accepted the battle, and his cannon
soon responded. The engagement raged with murderous energy; the
balls hissed in every direction; the allies rushed forward in strong
columns, but the French did not fall back before them. In the midst
of the fearful carnage they stood like heroes, sometimes repulsing
the superior enemy with sublime valor; and when they gave way, they
rallied and advanced to reconquer their positions. It was easy to
see that it was Napoleon's presence that inspired the French with
irresistible courage. Hour after hour vast numbers were slain on
both sides, and while the earth was trembling beneath the strife,
the snow fell to such a depth as to shroud the dead from view.

The contest was most furious in and around the village of La
Rothiere. The French held it with the utmost obstinacy, and vainly
did Sacken's corps, which had been repeatedly repulsed, return to
the charge; the French stood like a wall, and their cannon hurled
death into the ranks of their adversaries.

Blucher witnessed this doubtful struggle for some time with growing
impatience; his loud "Forward!" encouraged the troops to charge, but
their assaults were in vain. "Gneisenau," he cried, "we must take
the village, for La Rothiere is the key of the position.--Halloo,
pipe-master!" Hennomann was by his master's side. "There," said
Blucher, taking the pipe from his mouth, and handing it to
Christian, "take this pipe, and stay, do you hear, on this spot! I
shall soon be back, and you will see to it that I then get a lighted
pipe. I have to say a word or two to the French."

"You may depend on it, field-marshal, I shall stay here," said
Christian, gravely; "you will find me and the pipe here."

"Very well; and now come, Gneiseuau," said Blucher, galloping to the
head of the assaulting columns. Turning his face, full of warlike
ardor, toward his soldiers, he shouted: "You call me Marshal
Forward! Now I will show you what that means!" He turned his horse,
and, brandishing his sword, rushed toward the village. The soldiers
followed him with deafening cheers.

Christian Hennemann looked composedly after them, and, putting the
field-marshal's pipe into his mouth, he murmured, "Well, I wonder if
this will burn until the field-marshal returns, or if I shall have
to light another!" At this moment a bullet whizzed through the air,
carrying away the pipe from his mouth, and slightly wounding him.
"Well," he murmured, calmly, "the first one is gone, and a piece of
my head to boot! Let us immediately dress the wound, and then light
another pipe; for if he should return, and it is not ready for him--
thunder and lightning!" After giving vent to his feelings, the pipe-
master took oat his little dressing-pouch, stanched the blood,
applied a plaster to the wound, and wrapped a linen handkerchief
around his head. "Now I am all right again, and will do my duty,"
said Christian, closing the pouch, and opening the box, which was
fastened to the pommel of his saddle.

The fight was still raging. Night came, accompanied by a violent
snow-storm, so as to render the muskets useless. As on the Katzbach,
Blucher's soldiers had to attack the enemy with their swords and
bayonets. At length the allies were successful; the French were
overpowered and driven back. The soldiers, headed by Blucher, rushed
exultingly into the village of La Rothiere. "Forward!" shouted the
field-marshal. "Forward!" repeated the soldiers. They halted in the
middle of the village. The French still occupied the houses on both
sides of the principal street, and, converting every building into a
fortress, they fought like lions against the impetuous enemy.
Blucher was in the midst of the flying bullets, but he did not
notice them. The position had to be taken, and he knew that his
presence inspired his soldiers to heroic efforts. The village was
soon on fire, for the wind carried the flames from house to house,
and the snowy plain reflected the red glare far and wide. The French
rushed from the houses in hurried flight, hotly pursued by Blucher's
soldiers. The battle was gained! The enemy evacuated La Rothiere,
and retreated in disorder to Brienne and across the Aube.

Blucher could now return to his headquarters and inform the monarchs
of a victory. He rode back, thoughtfully; and Gneisenau, who was by
his side, was also grave and silent.

"Gneisenau," he exclaimed, "I believe we have done very well to-
day!"

"Your excellency must not say we, but _I_ have done very well to-
day," said Gneisenau, smiling. "You alone conceived the plan of
battle, and directed it;--for La Rothiere was the key of the whole
position, and it was Marshal Forward who took it. This time your
deeds must give the name to the battle, and it must be called 'the
battle of La Rothiere.'"

"Well, I do not care," said Blucher. "We have gained today, then,
the battle of La Rothiere, and, what is still better, we have shown
the French in their own country that Napoleon's invincibility is a
myth, and that he can be beaten as well as any other general.--But
what is that? See there, Gneisenau! what sentinel is posted on the
road yonder?"

In fact, a dark form on horseback halted by the roadside; the flames
of the burning village rose higher, and shed a light on the
stranger. It was a man dressed in the uniform of a hussar; a white,
blood-stained handkerchief was wrapped around his head and half his
face; his right arm was also bandaged, and in his mouth was a clay
pipe.

"It is the pipe-master!" cried Blucher, quickly galloping up.

"Yes, it is I--who should it be?" grumbled Christian.

"But, Christian," exclaimed Blucher, "how in Heaven's name do you
look! And what are you doing here?"

"I am waiting for Field-Marshal Blucher. Did you not tell me that I
was to wait for you here, and keep the pipe in order? Well, I did
wait for you, field-marshal. And you ask, too, how I look? Just like
one around whom the blue beans have been whizzing for hours past,
and whose head and arm have been scratched a great deal. You kept me
waiting a long time, field-marshal--more than four hours! The French
have shot pipe after pipe from my mouth, and this is the last I
have. If you had not come soon, it would have been smashed, too."

"No," said Blucher, smiling, "the French will not break another pipe
of mine to-day, Christian, for they have taken to their heels. It is
true, however, I have kept you waiting a long time. But that was the
fault of the French; they resisted with the greatest obstinacy, For
the rest, Christian, you had a pipe of tobacco at least during the
whole time that you were waiting, and did not fare so badly after
all; as for your wounds, I shall have them well attended to, my boy.
You have behaved as a brave man, and stood fire as a genuine soldier
ought to do. When we get home I will relate it to your old father,
and he will rejoice over it. Now, give me the pipe; it will be the
last that you will fill for me for some time to come, for you are
disabled; your right arm is shattered, and you must be cured."

"Well," exclaimed Christian, "with my left hand I can fill your
pipes. I am and must be Field-Marshal Blucher's pipe-master, and, if
they do not shoot off my head, I will not give up my position!"

On the following day Blucher received at the castle of Brienne the
congratulations and thanks of the allied monarchs. The Emperor
Alexander embraced him, and his eyes were filled with tears of
joyful emotion. "Field-marshal," he said, "you have crowned all your
former efforts by this glorious triumph. I do not know how we are to
reward you for this. But I know we must admire and love you."

King Frederick William shook hands with Blucher, and a smile
illuminated his features. "Blucher," he said, mildly, "you have kept
your word; you have fulfilled all that you promised us at Frankfort,
when I informed you of your appointment to the command-in-chief. To-
day you have blotted out the disgrace of Jena. Have you any wish
which I am able to fulfil? Pray let me know it, for I should like to
prove to you my gratitude and love."

"I have a wish, and before it is gratified, I shall neither sleep
well by night nor be calm by day. Now your majesties are quite able
to grant this wish of mine, and therefore I urgently pray both of
you to do so."

"Tell us what it is!" exclaimed the emperor; "I am anxious to grant
it as far as I am concerned, for an heroic head like yours must not
lie uneasy at night, and a childlike heart like yours must be
content. Speak, then!"

"Ah, sire," said the king, smiling, and fixing a searching look on
Blucher's bold face, "sire, beware of promising, for then he will
leave us no rest; he will not even let us sleep at night until he
has driven us to Paris.--That is your wish, Blucher, is it not?"

"It is!" exclaimed Blucher, ardently. "That is my wish; and, as your
majesty has called upon me to tell you something that you could
grant, and as his majesty the emperor tells me, too, that he would
like to gratify me--I say, let us now set out by forced marches for
Paris. Let us advance with all our armies on the capital, for then
the war will soon be over. I implore your majesties, let us proceed
quickly. Let us give Bonaparte no time for heading us off; but let
us outstrip him moving on Paris, and, if need be, take the city by
storm. When Paris falls all France is ours, and the war is over!"

"Well, what says your majesty?" asked Alexander, turning toward the
king. "Shall we comply with the wish of our young madcap?"

"Sire, as far as I am concerned, I have pledged him my word," said
Frederick William; "hence, I must keep it."

"And I assent with the greatest pleasure, sire," exclaimed
Alexander; "let us march on Paris, then; but we should agree as to
the best way of doing so."

"Well, we have invited our generals to hold a council of war, and I
believe they are waiting for us now," said the king. "Come,
therefore, sire; and you, Blucher, pray accompany us. One thing is
settled: we shall march on Paris in accordance with your wish--only
we have to select the routes which the various columns of the army
are to take, for they are too large to move by the same road; they
could not find the necessary supplies in the same section of
country. We must divide them, and that is the question which we
shall now discuss with our generals."

"I do not care about that," replied Blucher, merrily; "if the chief
point is settled, all the rest is indifferent to me; I shall obey
the orders of my king, and be content with the route selected for me
and my corps. The point is--we must profit by our victory and
outstrip Bonaparte! We must take Paris!"

CHAPTER XLVIII.

THE DISEASED EYES.

Upward of a month had elapsed since the victory of La Rothiere, and
Blucher's ardent wish had not yet been fulfilled; the allies were
not in Paris. The system of procrastination had again obtained the
upper hand at the headquarters of the allies. Austria hesitated to
use her power in a decisive manner against Napoleon, the emperor's
son-in-law; the crown prince of Sweden wished to spare France, and
was still in hope that the congress, which had been in session at
Chatillon since the 4th of February, would conclude a treaty of
peace. Among the very attendants of the Emperor of Russia and the
King of Prussia this peace party had its active supporters, who
opposed an energetic policy, and wished the congress of Chatillon,
and not the army, to put an end to the war.

Blucher once had dared openly to oppose these "peace apostles," and
disregarded the instructions received from the allied monarchs to
move farther back from Paris, and, instead of crossing the Seine,
retreat with his army to Chaumont and Langres. This order filled the
field-marshal with anger, and his generals and staff-officers shared
it. Great as he was in all his actions, Blucher took the bold
resolution to pay no attention to the retrograde movements of
Schwartzenberg and the crown prince of Sweden, but to continue his
march, even at the risk of appearing in front of Paris without
support.

But it was not as a rebel that he had wished to take so daring a
step; on the contrary, before moving, he wrote to King Frederick
William, and implored him to fulfil his wish, and allow him to
advance. He did not wait, however, for the king's answer, but,
though he knew that the commander-in-chief, Prince Schwartzenberg,
had already commenced retreating, continued to march with his
Silesian army alone upon the capital of France.

The monarchs themselves were of Blucher's opinion, and gave him full
power, having his army reenforced by the corps of Bulow and
Winzingerode. With his forces thus increased to twice their original
strength, he was able to confront Napoleon, and attack Paris even
without Schwartzenberg's assistance. But the fortune of war is
fickle, and he did not continue his march without experiencing this.
On the 7th of March he fought a bloody battle with Napoleon and his
marshals between Soissons and Craonne, and, to his profound regret,
was defeated, and forced to retreat.

He took revenge at Laon, where he and his brave Silesian army gained
a victory on the 9th of March. This was followed by still another.
He at length silenced the "trubsalsspritzen" and "peace apostles,"
who had up to this time raised their influential voices at
headquarters. All felt that a retreat, after this great victory, was
entirely out of the question, and even Schwartzenberg and Bernadotte
joined in Blucher's "Forward!" and marched their armies to Paris.

But the brave field-marshal himself was at this time unable to join
in the movement. Since the battle of Laon he had been affected with
a violent inflammation of the eyes, aggravated by a fever. Confined
to his dark room, he was obliged to remain ten days at Laon,
suffering not only physical but mental pain. For how could he redeem
his pledge--how achieve a final victory over Napoleon--if, half-
blind and doomed to the captivity of a sick-room, he could not march
with his troops, and lead them in person into battle? Regardless of
the warnings of his physicians, he tried to brave his sufferings,
and, putting himself at the head of his troops, again advanced with
them. Finally, on the 24th of March, by way of Rheims, he arrived at
Chalons. But the inflammation of his eyes had grown worse on the
road, and gave him intolerable pain; the fever sent his blood like
fire through his veins, and what neither age, nor defeat, nor
disappointed hope, had been able to accomplish, was accomplished by
sickness. He grew faint-hearted--his disease destroyed his
enthusiasm. Longing for tranquillity, he remembered how beautiful
and peaceful his dear Kunzendorf was, how kind and mild the sweet
face of his Amelia, and with what soft hands she would wash his
inflamed eyes, and apply the remedies.

During the last march from Rheims to Chalons he constantly thought
of this. At length he made up his mind, and no sooner had he arrived
at Chalons than he sent for Hennemann, and locked himself in his
room with him.

"Christian," said Blucher, in a subdued voice, "I am going to see
whether you are really a faithful fellow, and whether I may confide
something to you."

"Very well, field-marshal, put me to the test."

"Not so loud!" cried Biucher, anxiously. "Let us first discover
whether any one can hear us here." He opened the door, and looked
into the antechamber. No one was there. He then examined the dark
alcove adjoining the sitting-room, which was empty, too. "We are
alone; no one can overhear us," said Blucher, returning from his
reconnoissance to the sitting-room. "Now, pipe-master, listen to me.
First, however, look at my eyes, do you hear; look closely at them.
Well, how do they look?"

"Very sore," said Christian, mournfully.

"And they have not grown better, though Voelzke, the surgeon-general
has been doctoring them every day; and, by his salves, mixtures,
leeches, and blisters, causing me almost as much pain as the eyes
themselves. Nay, they grow rather worse from day to day, and if I
remain here longer, and allow the physicians to torment me, I shall
finally lose my eyesight altogether, and when I am blind, I shall be
of no account--unable to use my sword and fight Bonaparte. I am
afraid the good God will not permit me to pull down Bonaparte from
his throne. He knows I should then be too happy, and therefore says,
'Gotthold Leberecht Blucher, I have permitted thee to bring
Bonaparte to the brink of ruin; now thine armies are close to Paris,
and will, without thee, get into the city. Go, therefore, old boy,
and have thine eyes cured!' Well, I will comply with God's will, and
go to some place and have myself healed, where they know better how
to do it than our doctors here. I have been told that there are
excellent oculists at Brussels, and Brussels is not very far from
here. I will, therefore, go there."

"The field-marshal intends to retreat, then?" said Christian,
laconically.

"Retreat!" cried Blucher, angrily. "Who takes the liberty of saying
that Field-Marshal Blucher intends to retreat?"

"I take that liberty," said Christian. "The field-marshal intends to
retreat from the inflammation of his eyes."

"Why, yes; that is an enemy from which it is no disgrace to
retreat."

"A retreat is always a retreat," said Christian, with a shrug, "and
if you carry out your intention you will no longer be called Marshal
Forward!"

"I do not care to be called so now!" exclaimed Blucher. "The
inflammation of my eyes has made me desperate; I shall lose my sight
if I stay here, and then they will lead me by the nose like a blind
bear. There is no use in talking any more about it; I will and must
go. If you do not wish to accompany me say so, and you may stay
here."

"If you go, then I will too," said Christian, with his usual
calmness, "for where the field-marshal is the pipe-master must be;
that is a matter of course. I have pledged my word to my father, to
Madame von Blucher, and to the good God, that I would never leave my
general, and it makes no difference if he is field-marshal now. If
they do not shoot me, I shall stay with my field-marshal."

"Christian," said Blucher, offering him his hand, "you are a dear
boy; your heart is in the right place, and it is always the best
thing in a man. When we get back to Kunzendorf you shall lead a very
pleasant life, for I can never forget what a faithful and excellent
young fellow you have been. Then you will go with me?"

"Yes, to the end of the world, general!"

"Well, we shall not go so far as that--only to Brussels, where there
are good oculists; and when they have cured me, I will see whether
they still need me here, and whether every thing has then been done
to my liking."

"Oh, I believe it will be then as it is now," said Christian, in a
contemptuous tone. "When Marshal Forward is no longer here, things
will go backward, that is sure. But we need not care, for we shall
go forward to Brussels."

"Yes, to Brussels," said Blucher; "we set out to-night; but no one
must know it; I will leave as quietly as possible. I cannot stand
bidding them all farewell, and listening to their fine speeches; I
will leave, therefore, so that no one shall discover it before I am
gone."

"A secret flight!" said Christian, laconically.

"Secret flight? how stupid!" grumbled Blucher. "It is strange what
ridiculous words the boy uses! How a flight? I believe I am no
prisoner."

"No, but you are field-marshal."

Blucher's red eyes cast an angry glance on the bold pipe-master.
"You talk as you understand it," he cried; "when I am a poor blind
fellow, swallowing powders and using salves all day I am no longer a
field-marshal and had better resign, not waiting to be deposed by a
few polite phrases. That is the reason why I am going to leave."

"And I leave, too," said Christian; "but as the field-marshal does
not wish me to say any thing about it, of course I shall not. But
how are we to get away, if no one is to be informed?"

"Well, listen! I will tell you. I have already devised the whole
plan of operations, and--but, hark! something seems moving in the
alcove, as if a door opened."

"There is no door in the alcove," said Christian; "it was, perhaps,
a mouse, and it tells no tales. Inform me, field-marshal, what I
have to do."

"Well, listen, Christian!" And the field-marshal began to explain to
him, in his vivacious manner, the whole plan of his departure.
Christian comprehended it, and entered very seriously into the
duties of quartermaster-general to his field-marshal.

"Do you remember it all now?" asked Blucher, at the conclusion of
their conference. "Do you know all that you have to do?"

"I know all," said Christian. "In the first place, I am to go to
General Gneisenau and inform him that the field-marshal is sick and
confined to his bed to-day, and refuses to see any one. General
Gneisenau will mention it, of course, to Surgeon-General Dr.
Voelzke, who will come to see the field-marshal. I am to tell him
that he is in so much pain from his inflamed eyes that he had
ordered me to admit no one--that he is trying to sleep. Then I am to
come back to you, and your excellency will give me the farewell
letters to General Gneisenau, whereupon I am to pack up your things
and lock the bags. When it grows dark, I am to carry them secretly
into our carriage. Then it will suddenly occur to your excellency to
take an airing, the sun having set, and therefore unable to hurt
your eyes. I am to accompany you, and we shall not come back."

"No, we shall not come back," said Blucher, thoughtfully. "Well,
every thing is settled now; run, and attend to what I told you. We
shall set out at seven o'clock to-night."

Christian hastened away. Blucher looked after him with a mournful
glance and a deep sigh. "The die is cast," he murmured to himself;
"now I am indeed a poor old invalid, no longer of any use. God has
refused to fulfil my dearest wish; He would not let me hurl
Bonaparte from his stolen throne. I must face about at the gates of
Paris, and creep back into obscurity. Well, let God's will be done!
I have labored as long as there was daylight; now comes the night,
when I can work no more. Ah, my poor sore eyes! I--but there is,
after all, some one in the alcove," cried Blucher, springing to his
feet. Again he heard a noise as of footsteps, and an opening door.
He bounded into the alcove, but all was still; no one was there, and
no door to be seen. "I was mistaken," he said. "A bad conscience is
a very queer thing. Because I am about to do something secret, I am
thinking that eavesdroppers are watching me and trying to forestall
me."

It was seven in the evening; the sun had set. Field-Marshal Blucher,
who was very sick all day, now intended to take an airing. The pipe-
master had, therefore, ordered the coachman; and the field-marshal's
carriage, drawn by four black horses, had just come to the door.
Blucher was still in his room, but all his preparations were
completed. On the table lay two letters--one addressed to the king,
the other to General Gneisenau; the carpet-bags had already been
conveyed into the carriage, together with his pipe-box. The invalid
had only to wrap himself in his military cloak, leave the room, and
enter the carriage; but he still hesitated. An anxiety, such as he
had never known before, had crept over him; and, what had never
before happened to him, his heart beat with fear. "That was just
wanting to me," he murmured. "I have become a white-livered coward,
whose legs are trembling, and whose heart is throbbing! What am I
afraid of, then? Is that wrong which I am about to do? My heart has
never acted thus even in the storm of battle. What does it mean?
Bah! it is folly; no attention should be paid to it. I hope,
however, that no one will meet me when I go down-stairs, or at the
carriage when I enter it. Let me see if there is any one in the
street." He quickly stepped to the window and looked out; there was
no one in the street, or near his carriage. "I will go now," said
Blucher, turning again toward the room. "I--" He paused, and a blush
suffused his cheeks. There, in the middle of the room, stood General
Gneisenau, and gazed at him with a strange, mournful air.
"Gneisenau, is it you?" asked Blucher, in a faltering voice. "How
did you get in?"