“But there was no voice and no order. The terrible tramp of the Guard and the sound that Heine loved, the dance of the French drums, was extinguished; there was no echo of their songs, for the army was of ghosts and was defeated. They passed in the silence which we can never pierce, and somewhere remote from men they sleep in bivouac round the most splendid of human swords.” A SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER BLÜCHER “Captain Blücher has full permission to resign, and to go to the devil, if he likes.” Thus endorsed by Frederick the Great, Captain Blücher’s written request for leave to retire from the Prussian Army went into effect. Yet this headstrong, boisterous, hard-drinking, hard-riding, hard-fighting, indefatigable Blücher became one of the most thorough and effective soldiers that ever led an army to battle. He possessed some of those very qualities which made Washington, Cromwell, and Frederick so great. He was tireless, he was iron-willed, he was true-hearted, he was fearless, he was not to be discouraged, and he never could be whipped so badly that he did not come back to fight again, harder than ever. Something of a national hero, something of a typical German soldier, something of an ideal patriot, he was something of a ruthless Goth. He had gone to England after the Campaign of Paris, in 1814, and rode conspicuously in the great procession through London. As he looked upon the wealth displayed on every side, he growled, “What a town to sack.” Yet he was a devoted husband, a most loyal subject; a generous, faithful, daring ally. He had fought against the French a greater number of times than any other commander. He had been whipped oftener and harder than any other commander. He had been captured, and had grazed annihilation oftener than any other commander. After Jena, his king owed his escape from being made prisoner to a bold falsehood--to General Klein--that an armistice had been declared. At Bautzen he just did get out of the trap Napoleon laid for him, and he did it because Ney, in making the turning movement, stopped to do some fighting which gave the Prussian his warning. In 1814 he just did miss being bagged time and again--but he missed it. And now in 1815 his pluck, his dash, and his luck were to save him, as by fire, again and again. He was beloved by his troops. Wherever he sent them, he was ready to go himself. He shirked nothing, and was whole-hearted in everything. Like the Russian soldier, Skobeleff, he was sublime on the field of battle, and led his men in person. With a kindly word, “Come, comrades, follow me!” he could lead them into the jaws of hell. With a plea like this, “Comrades, I gave my word to be there; you won’t make me break it!”--he could inspire them to superhuman efforts, to drag the heavy guns through the mud, and thus reach his ally in time to save.