The emperor cast a glance full of indescribable satisfaction on the king, who responded to it with a gentle nod.
"My dear Blucher," said Alexander, kindly, "you have not yet permitted me to wish you joy of your birthday. God bless you, my dear field-marshal, and may this year bring us the peace and repose which one so much needs after the exposures of campaign life, and especially when he is seventy-one years old!"
"I do not know whether I am as old as that," said Blucher, indignantly; "I know only that I am by no means desirous of repose, but rather deem it a great misfortune just now."
The emperor seemed not to have heard him, but continued quietly: "Yes, certainly, my dear field-marshal, you need retirement; at your venerable age we should not subject ourselves to such prolonged fatigues in the field."
"Besides, I am sure you wish peace, like the rest of us," said the king, who saw that the veins on Blucher's forehead were swelling, and who wished to forestall too violent a reply. "We have reflected a long while how we might give you a pleasant surprise on your birthday, but it was difficult for us. Yon have already all the orders and honor we can bestow; you are blessed with riches, and we have found it difficult to make you a present worthy of the respect and love we entertain for you."
"But his majesty the king has resolved to give you something which will gladden your noble heart. Field-marshal, we give you peace as a birthday present! We have resolved, to make peace with Napoleon; and to-day, on your birthday, the conditions, which, you know, have for a long time past formed the subject of secret negotiations, are to be signed. The Emperor Napoleon has declared his readiness to accept them, and, therefore, there are no further obstacles to the cessation of war."
"To-morrow our troops will set out for home," said the king. "The requirements of honor and duty have been satisfied; the welfare and prosperity of our subjects demand peace. You, my dear field-marshal, have been selected to direct the retreat of the troops. Conformably to the wishes of his majesty the Emperor Alexander, and his royal highness the crown prince of Sweden, I appoint you commander-in- chief of all the retreating troops. The generals will have strictly to comply with your orders; and, just as Prince Schwartzenberg was general-in-chief of the advance, you, field-marshal, are general-in- chief of the retreat. Confiding in your energy, sagacity, and zeal, we hope that you will conduct the retreat, satisfactorily, and the men will reach their homes as soon as possible. You are now, therefore, commander-in-chief; that is your birthday gift, and we hope you will be content with it."
"No," cried Blucher, drawing a deep breath, and unable longer to restrain his anger, "I am not content with it—not at all; and I must say that I do not wish this appointment, which seems to me a disgrace. General-in-chief of the retreating armies! I should like to ask his majesty the Emperor of Russia why his soldiers have given me the honorary title of 'Marshal Forward,' if I am now to be 'General-in-chief Backward?' If your majesty has given me the golden-sheathed sword only for the purpose of wearing it on parade, I do not want it. Sire, here it is; I lay it down at your feet with due respect. Your majesty, you desired to give it to the general-in- chief of the retreating troops, and that I am not, and cannot be!" He hastily unbuckled his sword, and laid it on the table beside the emperor.
"And why can you not?" asked Alexander, composedly.
"Because I cannot disgrace my honest name by doing dishonest things," cried Blucher, vehemently.