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.'"