Books: NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER

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"Well, that was not so very foolish," said Madame von Blucher,
smiling; "on the contrary, it was very well done, and but for those
abominable playing-cards, nothing could be better."

"Ah, the shrewd little general has, by an adroit movement, brought
us back to the old battle-ground," exclaimed Blucher. "We have
arrived again at last night's faro! Now, tell me first of all--did I
guess right? Were you not angry with me because I returned late?"

"Yes," said his wife, "that was the reason."

"Hurrah! Just as I thought!" shouted Blucher, jubilantly. "Now,
quick, pay me for my correct guess! You know, you were to give me a
kiss!--a kiss such as you used to give me twenty years ago!" He
encircled his wife with his arms, and pressed a long and tender kiss
on her lips.

"Well, are you pacified now?" he then asked. "I see in your eyes
that you are, and now, come, I will tell you all that occurred last
night. You see the money is gone, and what matters it! Money is
destined to be spent; that is what the good Lord gave it to us for,
and men made it round that it might roll away more rapidly. If it
were to remain, they would have made it square, when the fingers
could hold it better. And, then, why should I hold it? We have
enough--more than enough; our two daughters are married to rich men;
our two sons are provided for; our estate at Kunzendorf will not
roll away, for it is not round and brings us lots of money, and I am
sure there will be a day when I shall win very large sums. I do not
mean at the gaming-table, Amelia, but on the battle-field. I shall
reconquer to the king his cities and provinces. I shall take from
Bonaparte all that he has stolen from Prussia; I--"

"You intended to tell me what occurred last night," interrupted his
wife, who heard him, to her dismay, beginning again the philippie
against Napoleon which he had repeated to her at least a hundred
times.

"Yes, that is true," said Blucher, breathing deeply, "I wished to
tell you about Major von Leesten. At the 'Ressource' I met yesterday
in the afternoon an old friend of his, who told me how sad and
unhappy Leesten was. His eldest daughter is betrothed to a young
country gentleman: the two young folks would like to marry, but they
have no money. If the young man had only a thousand dollars, he
might rent an estate in this vicinity; but, in order to do so, he
must give a thousand dollars security, and he is not possessed of
that sum. Leesten's friend told me all this, and also how
disheartened Leesten was. He said he had gone to all sorts of
usurers, but no one would lend him any thing, because he could not
furnish security, for he has nothing but his pension."

"Poor man! And could not his friends collect the amount and give it
to him?"

"His friends have not any thing either! Who has any thing? Every one
is poor since the accursed French are in the country, and Bonaparte-
-"

"You forget again your story of Major von Leesten, my friend."

"Oh, yes. His friends have not any thing either, and even if they
had, Leesten would not accept presents. No, believe me, Amelia, when
the poor are exceedingly proud, they would die of hunger sooner than
accept alms at the hands of a good friend, or ask him for a slice of
bread and butter. I know all about it, for I was poor, too, and
starved when my pay was spent. And Leesten is proud also; alms and
presents he would not accept, or if he did, for the sake of his
daughter, his heart would burst with grief. That was what his friend
told me; I pitied him, and thought I should like to call on the dear
major and shake hands with him, that he might feel that I like him,
and that he has friends, how poor soever he may be. Well, I went
with his friend to the major. He was glad to see us and took pains
to be merry, but I saw very well that he was sad; that his laughter
was not genuine, and that, as soon as some one else spoke, he grew
gloomy. But I did not ask what ailed him; I feigned not to see any
thing, and begged him to accompany us and spend a pleasant evening
with a few friends. He refused at first to do so, but I succeeded in
overcoming his resistance, and I am not sorry by any means that I
did, for the poor major grew quite cheerful at last; he forgot his
grief, drank some good wine with us,--more, perhaps, than he had
drunk for a year, and then played a little faro with us for the
first time in his life. Well, we were all in the best spirits, and
that was the reason why I remained so long and came home so late. It
was Major von Leesten's fault, and now my story is at an end!"

"No, it is not!" exclaimed Amelia. "You have not yet told me every
thing, Blucher. You have not told me who won your two hundred louis
d'ors for which you intended to purchase four new carriage-horses?"

"Yes, that was curious," said Blucher, composedly, stroking his long
white mustache--"that was really curious. Leesten had never before
handled a card; he did not know the game, and yet he won from such
an old gambler as I am two hundred louis d'ors in the course of a
few hours. Leesten won the money that was to pay for the carriage-
horses, and you may give him thanks for being compelled to drive for
six months longer with our lame old mares."

A sunbeam, as it were, illuminated Amelia's countenance; her eyes
shone, and her cheeks were glowing with joy. Quickly putting her
hands on Blucher's shoulders, she looked up to him with a smile.
"You made him win the money, Gebhard," she said, in a voice
tremulous with emotion. "Oh, do not shake your head--tell me the
truth! You made Leesten win, because you wished to preserve him from
the necessity of accepting alms. You made him win, that his daughter
might marry."

"Nonsense!" said Blucher, growlingly, "how could I make him win when
he did not really win? He would have found it out, and, besides, I
would have been a cheat."

"He did not find it out because you made him drink so much wine, and
because he knows nothing about the game; and you are no cheat,
because you intentionally made him win; on the contrary, you are a
noble, magnanimous man whom Heaven must love. Oh, dear, dearest
husband, tell me the truth; let me enjoy the happiness that I have
guessed right! You did so intentionally, did you not? The cards did
not bring so much good luck to Leesten, but Blucher did!"

"Hush! do not say that so loudly," exclaimed Blucher, looking
anxiously around; "if any one should hear and repeat it, and Leesten
should find out how the thing occurred, the fellow would return the
money to me."

"Ah, now you have betrayed yourself--you have confessed that you
lost the money intentionally," exclaimed Amelia, jubilantly. "Oh,
thanks, thanks, my noble and generous friend!" She took his hands
with passionate tenderness, and pressed them to her lips.

"But, Amelia, what are you doing?" said Blucher, withdrawing his
hands in confusion. "Why, you are weeping!"

"Oh, they are tears of joy," she said, nodding to him with a
blissful smile--"tears which I am weeping for my glorious, dear
Blucher!"

"Oh, you are too good," said Blucher, whose face suddenly grew
gloomy. "I am nothing but an old, pensioned soldier--a rusty sword
flung into a corner. I am an invalid whom they believe to be
childish, because he thinks he might still be useful, and the
fatherland might need him. But I tell you, Amelia, if I ever should
become childish it would be on account of the course pursued toward
me; why, I am dismissed from the service; I am refused any thing to
do; I am desired to be idle, and the king has given me this accursed
estate of Kunzendorf, not as a reward, nor from love, but to get rid
of me, and because he is afraid of the French. When he gave it to me
last spring, he wrote that I ought to set out for Kunzendorf
immediately, and live and remain there, as it behooved every
nobleman, in the midst of my peasants. But his real object was to
send me into exile; he did not wish me to remain in Berlin!"

"Well, he had to comply with the urgent recommendations of his
ministers," said Madame von Blucher, smiling. "You know very well
that all the ministers of the king, with the sole exception of
Hardenberg, are friends of the French, and think that Prussia would
be lost if she should not faithfully stand by France."

"They are traitors when they entertain such infamous sentiments,"
cried Blucher, wildly stamping with his foot; "they should hang the
fellows who are so mean and cowardly as to think that Prussia would
be lost if her mortal enemy did not condescend to sustain her. Ah,
if the king had listened to me only once, we should have long since
driven the French out of the country, and our poor soldiers would
not freeze to death in Russia as auxiliaries of Bonaparte. When the
danger is greatest, every thing must be risked in order to win every
thing, and when a fellow tries to deceive and insult me, I do not
consider much whether I had better endure him because may be weaker
than he is, but, before he suspects it, I knock him down if I can.
You see, that is defending one's life; this is what the learned call
philosophy. But, dearest Amelia, there is but one philosophy in
life, and it is this: 'He who trusts in God and defends himself
bravely will never miserably perish.' Now, the king and his
ministers know only one-half of this philosophy, and that is the
reason why the whole thing goes wrong. They mean to trust in God,
even though, from their blind trust alone, all Prussia fall to
ruins; but as for bravely defending themselves, that is what they do
not understand. It is too much like old Blucher's way of doing
things, and that is the reason why the learned gentlemen do not like
it. Ah! Amelia, when I think of all the wretchedness of Prussia, and
that I may have to die without having chastised Bonaparte--without
having wrested from him, and flung into his face, the laurels of
Jena, Eylau, and Friedland--ah, then I feel like sitting down and
crying like a boy. But Heaven cannot be so cruel; it will not let me
die before meeting Bonaparte on the field of battle, and avenging
all our wrongs upon him. No, I trust I will not die before that--
and, after all, I am quite young! Only seventy years of age! My
grandfather died in his ninetieth year, and my mother told me often
enough that I looked exactly like my grandfather; I shall,
therefore, reach my ninetieth year. I have still twenty years to
live--twenty years, that is enough--" Just then the door opened, and
a footman entered.

"Well, John," asked Blucher, "what is it? Why do you look so merry,
my boy? I suppose you have good news for us, have you not?"

"I have, your excellency," said the footman. "There is an old man
outside, an invalid, attended by a young fellow who, I believe, is
his son. The two have come all the way from Pomerania, and want to
see General von Blucher. He says he has important news for your
excellency."

"Important news?" asked Blucher. "And he comes from Pomerania? John,
I hope it will not be one who wants to tell me the same old story?"

"Your excellency, I believe that is what he comes for," said John,
grinning.

"Amelia," exclaimed Blucher, bursting into loud laughter, "there is
another fellow who wants to tell me that he took me prisoner fifty
years since. I believe it is already the seventh rascal who says he
was the man."

"The seventh who wants to get money from you and swindle you," said
Madame von Blucher, smiling.

"No, I believe they do not exactly want to swindle me," said
Blucher, "but I know they like to get a little money, and as they do
not want to beg--"

"They come and lie," interrupted Amelia, smiling. "They know already
that General Blucher gives a few louis d'ors to every one who comes
and says, 'General, it was I who took you prisoner in Mecklenburg in
1760, and brought you to the Prussians. You, therefore, are indebted
to me for all your glory and your happiness.'"

"Yes, it is true," said Blucher, laughing and smoothing his
mustache. "That is what all six of them said. But one of them did
take me prisoner, for the story is true, and if I turn away one of
those who tell me the same thing, why, I might happen to hit
precisely the man who took me, and that would be a great shame.
Therefore, it is better I imagine a whole squadron had taken me at
that time, and give money to every one who comes to me for it. Even
though he may not be the man, why, he is at least an old hussar, and
I shall never turn an old hussar without a little present from my
door." [Footnote: Blucher's own words.--Vide "Life of Prince Blucher
of Wahlstatt, by Varnhagen von Ense," p. 6.]

"Well, I see you want to bid welcome to your seventh hero and
conqueror," said Amelia, smiling. "Very well, I will quit the field
and retire into my cabinet. Farewell, my friend, and when your hero
has taken leave of you, I will await you." She nodded pleasantly to
her husband, and left the room.

"Well, John," said Blucher, sitting down again on his easy-chair at
the window, "now let the men come in. But first fill me a pipe. You
must take a new one, for I broke the one I was smoking this
morning."

John hastened to the elegant "pipe-board" which stood beside the
fireplace, and took from it an oblong, plain wooden box; opening the
lid, he drew a new, long clay pipe from it.

"How many pipes are in it yet?" asked Blucher, hastily. "A good lot,
John?"

"No, your excellency, only seven whole pipes, and eight broken
ones."

"You may ride to Neisse to-morrow, and buy a box of pipes. Now, give
me one, and let the hussar and his son come in."

CHAPTER X.

RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG.

John, the footman, opened the door of the anteroom, and shouted in a
loud and solemn voice, "Your excellency, here is Hennemann, the
hussar, and his son Christian!"

"Well, come in!" said Blucher, good-naturedly, puffing a cloud of
smoke from his pipe.

An old man with silver-white hair, his bent form clad in the old and
faded uniform of a hussar, and holding his old-fashioned shako in
his hand, entered the room. He was followed by a young man, wearing
the costume of a North-German farmer, his heavy yellow hair combed
backward and fastened with a large round comb; his full, vigorous
form dressed in a long blue cloth coat, reaching down almost to his
feet, and lined with white flannel; under it he wore trousers of
dark-green velvet that descended only to the knees, and joined there
the blue-and-red stockings in which his legs were encased; his feet
were armed with thick shoes, adorned with buckles, while their soles
bristled with large nails.

"Where do you come from?" asked Blucher, fixing his eyes with a kind
expression on the two men.

"From Rostock, your excellency," said the old man, making a
respectful obeisance.

"From Rostock?" asked Blucher, joyously. "Why, that is my native
city."

"I know that very well, general," said the old hussar, who vainly
tried to hide his Low-German accent. "All Rostock knows it, too, and
every child there boasts of Blucher being our countryman."

"Well," said Blucher, smiling, "then you come from Rostock. Do you
live there?"

"Not exactly in Rostock, your excellency. My daughter Frederica is
married to a tailor in Rostock, and I was with her for four weeks. I
myself live at Polchow, a nobleman's estate four miles from Rostock;
I am there at the house of my eldest son."

"Is that your eldest son?" asked Blucher, pointing with his clay
pipe at the young man, who stood by the side of his aged father, and
was turning his hat in his hand in an embarrassed manner.

"No, sir, he is my youngest son, and it is just for his sake that I
have come to you. Christian was a laborer in the service of our
nobleman at Polchow, and he desired to marry a girl with whom he had
fallen in love. But the nobleman would not permit it; he said
Christian should wait some ten years until there was a house vacant
in the village, and some of the old peasants had died. This drove
him to despair; he wanted to commit suicide, and said he would die
rather than be a day laborer on an estate in Mecklenburg, which is
no better than being the nobleman's slave."

"Yes," cried Christian, indignantly, "that is true, general. A day
laborer on an estate in Mecklenburg is a slave, that is all. The
nobleman owns him. If he wants to do so, he may disable him, nay, he
may kill him. Such a laborer has no rights, no will, no property, no
home, no country; he is not allowed to live anywhere but in his
village: he cannot settle in any other place, and is not permitted
to marry unless the nobleman who owns the village gives his consent,
nor can he ever be any thing else than what his father and
grandfather were, that is to say, the nobleman's laborers. And I do
not wish to be such and do nothing else than putting the horses to
the plough. I want to marry Frederica, and become a free man, and if
that cannot be I will commit suicide."

"Ahem! he has young blood," said Blucher, well pleased and smiling,
"fresh Mecklenburgian blood. I like that! But you must not abuse
Mecklenburg, Christian; I love Mecklenburg, because it is my native
country."

"It is a good country for noblemen who have money," said Christian,
"but for day laborers who have none it is a poor country. And that
was the reason why I said to the old man, 'Vatting [Footnote:
"Vatting," Low-German for "papa."], shall I commit suicide or run
away and enlist.'"

"And I then said, 'Well, my son, in that case it will be better for
you to enlist,'" added the old man, "'and, moreover, you shall
enlist under a good general. I will show you that my life is yet
good for something; I will do for your sake what I have purposed to
do all my lifetime: I will go to General Blucher, tell him whom I
am, and ask him to reward my boy for what I did for him.'"

Blucher looked with a good-natured smile at the poor old man who
stood before him in the faded and threadbare uniform of a private
soldier.

"Well, my old friend," he said, "what have you done for me, then?"

The old man raised his head, and a solemn expression overspread his
bronzed and furrowed countenance. "General," he said, gravely, "it
was I who took you prisoner in Mecklenburg in 1760, and to me,
therefore, you are indebted for all your glory and happiness."

Blucher covered his face with his hands, that the old man might not
see his smile. "It is just as Amelia told me it would be," he said
to himself. He then added aloud: "Well, tell me the story, that I
may see whether it was really you who took me prisoner."

"It is a long story," said the old man, sighing, "and if I am to
tell it, I must ask a favor of your excellency."

"Well, what is it? Speak, my old friend," said Blucher, puffing a
cloud from his pipe, and satisfied that the old hussar would apply
to him for money.

"I must beg leave to sit down, general," said the old man, timidly.
"We have come on foot all the way from Rostock, and it is only
fifteen minutes since we reached this village. We took only time
enough at the tavern to change our dress; I put on my uniform, and
Christian put on his Sunday coat. I am eighty years old, general,
and my legs are not as strong as they used to be."

"Eighty years old!" exclaimed Blucher, jumping up, "eighty years
old, and you have come on foot all the way from Rostock! Why, that
is impossible! Christian, tell me, that cannot be true!"

"Yes, general, it is true. We have been on the way for three weeks
past, for the old man cannot walk very fast, and we had not money
enough to ride. We had to be thankful for having enough to pay for
our beds at the taverns. And my father is more than eighty years of
age! We have brought his certificate of birth with us."

"Eighty years of age, and he came on foot all the way from Rostock,
and I allow the old man to stand and offer him no chair!" exclaimed
Blucher,--"I do not ask whether he is hungry and thirsty! John!
John!" And Blucher rushed to the bell-rope and rang the bell so
violently that John entered the room in great excitement. "John,
quick!" shouted Blucher. "Quick, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and
bread, butter, and ham; and tell them in the kitchen to prepare a
good dinner for these men, and have a room with two beds made ready
for them in the adjoining house. Quick, John! In five minutes the
wine and the other things must be here! Run!"

John hastened out of the room, and Blucher approached the old man,
who looked on, speechless and deeply moved by the kind zeal the
general had displayed in his behalf.

"Come, my dear friend," said Blucher, kindly, taking him by the hand
and conducting him across the room to his favorite seat at the
window. "There, sit down on my easy-chair and rest."

"No, general, no; that would be disrespectful!"

"Fiddlesticks!" replied Blucher; "an octogenarian is entitled to
more respect than a general's epaulets are. Now do not refuse, but
sit down!" And with his vigorous arms he pressed him into the easy-
chair. He then quietly took his clay pipe from the window, and sat
down on a cane chair opposite the old hussar. "And now tell me the
story of my arrest as a prisoner. I promise you that I will believe
it all."

"General, you may believe nothing but what is true," replied the old
man, solemnly.

Blucher nodded. "Commence," he said, "but no--wait a while! There is
John with the wine and the bread and butter. Now eat and drink
first."

"I cannot eat, for I am not hungry. But, if the general will permit
me, I will drink a glass of wine."

"Come, John, two glasses!--fill them to the brim! And now, my
friend, let us drink. Here's to our native country!" Blucher filled
his glass with claret; his eyes flashed, and his face kindled with
the fire of youth, when he, the young septuagenarian, touched with
his glass that of the feeble octogenarian. "Hurrah, my old
countryman," he shouted, jubilantly, "long live Mecklenburg! long
live Rostock and the shore of the Baltic! Now empty your glass, my
friend, and you, John, fill it again, and then put the wine and the
bread and butter on the table beside the fireplace, that Christian
may help himself. Eat and drink, Christian, but do not stir, or say
a word, for we two old ones have to speak with each other. Now tell
me the story, my old friend!"

"Well," said the old man, putting down his empty glass, "I had run
away from my parents because I was just in the same difficulty as
Christian: I did not wish to remain a day laborer. I also wanted to
marry, and the nobleman would not let me. Well, I ran away, and
enlisted in Old Fritz's army, in Colonel Belling's regiment of
hussars. It was in 1760; we had a great deal to do at that time; we
were every day skirmishing with the Swedes, for we were stationed in
Mecklenburg, and the Swedes were so dreadfully bold as to make raids
throughout Brandenburg and Mecklenburg. One day, I believe it was in
August, 1760, just when we, Belling's hussars, occupied the towpath
close to Friedland in Mecklenburg, another detachment of Swedish
hussars approached to harass us. They were headed by a little
ensign--a handsome young lad, scarcely twenty years of age, a very
impertinent baby! And this young rascal rode closely to the old
hussars, and commenced to crow in his sweet little voice, abusing
us, and told us at last, if we were courageous enough, to come on;
he had not had his breakfast, he said, and would like to swallow
about a dozen of Belling's hussars. Well, the other hussars rejoiced
in the pluck of the young fellow, and a handsome lad he was, with
clear blue eyes and red cheeks. But his saucy taunts irritated me,
and when the little ensign continued laughing, and telling us we
were cowards, I became very angry, galloped up to him and shouted:
'Now, you little imp, I will kill you!'"

"Sure enough," exclaimed Blucher, in surprise, "that was what the
hussar shouted. It seems to me as though I hear it still sounding in
my ears. But none of the other hussars told me this; it is new, and
it is true. Hennemann, could it be possible that you should really
be the man who took me prisoner at that time?"

"Listen to the remainder of my story, general, and you will soon
find out whether it was I or not. I galloped up to him, and while
the Prussians and Swedes were fighting, I fixed my eyes on my merry
little ensign; when I was quite close to him, I shot down his horse.
The ensign was unable then to offer much resistance, and, besides, I
was a very strong, active man. I took him by the collar and put him
on my horse in front of me."

"And the ensign submitted to that without defending himself?" asked
Blucher, angrily.

"By no means! On the contrary, he was as red in the face as a
crawfish, and resisting struck me. I held his arms fast, but he
disengaged himself with so violent a jerk that the yellow facings of
his right sleeve remained in my hand."

"That is true," exclaimed Blucher.

"Yes, it is true," said the old man, calmly; "but it is true also
that I got hold again of the ensign and took him to Colonel von
Belling, to whom I stated that I had captured the handsome lad. The
colonel liked his face and courageous bearing; he kept the Swedish
ensign at his headquarters, where he appointed him cornet the next
day, and made the little Ensign Blucher apply to the Swedes for
permission to quit their service."