While he spoke, the heavy tramp of men marching announced the approach of fresh troops; and by the bustle and noise within the farmhouse it was clear the preparations for its defence were making with all the activity the exigency demanded.
It was past seven o’clock; but as the day broke more out, the heavy fog increased, and soon grew so dense as to shut out from our view the Prussian picket and the guns upon the road. Meanwhile the firing continued at a distance, but, as it seemed, fainter than before.
“Ha! there it comes now,” said the corporal, as a shrill whistle was heard to our left. “Look to your pieces, men! steady.” There was a pause; every ear was bent to listen, every breath drawn short, when again he spoke. “That ‘s it. En avant, lads! en avant!”
With the word he sprang forward, but still crouching, he went as if the thick mist were not enough to conceal him. The men followed their leader with cautious steps, their carbines in hand and bayonets fixed. For some minutes we ascended the hill, gradually nearing the road, along which a low bank offered a slight protection against fire.
The corporal halted here for a second or two, when another whistle, so faint as to be scarcely audible, was borne on the air. With a motion of his hand forwards he gave the order to advance, and led the way along the roadside.
As we followed in single file, I found myself next the corporal, whose every motion I watched with an intensity of interest I cannot convey. At last he stopped and wheeled round; then, kneeling down, he levelled his piece upon the low bank, – a movement quickly followed by all the rest who in silence obeyed his signal.
Directly in front of us now, and as it seemed not above a dozen yards distant, the yellow glare of the artillery fuse could be dimly discerned through the mist; thither every eye was bent and every musket pointed. Thus we knelt with beating hearts, when suddenly several shots rang out from the valley and the opposite side of the road; as quickly replied to by the enemy, and a smart but irregular clattering of musketry followed.
“Now,” cried the corporal, aloud, “now, and all together!”
And then with one long, stunning report, every gun was discharged, and a wild cry of the wounded blended with the sounds as we cleared the fence and dashed at the guns.
“Down, men, down!” called our leader, as we jumped into the road. The word was scarce uttered when a bright flash gleamed forth, a loud bang succeeded, and we heard the grapeshot crushing down the valley and tearing its way through the leaves and branches of the brushwood.
“En avant, lads! now’s your time!” cried the corporal, as he sprang to his feet and led towards the gun.
With one vigorous dash we pushed up the height, just as the cannoneers were preparing to load. The gunners fell back, and a party of infantry as quickly presented themselves.
The mist happily concealed the smallness of our force, otherwise the Prussians might have crushed us at once. For a second there was a pause; then both sides fired, an irregular volley was discharged, and the muskets were lowered to the charge. What must have been the fate of our little party now there could be no doubt; when suddenly, through the blue smoke which yet lingered near the guns, the bright gleaming of bayonets was seen to flash, while the loud vivas of our own soldiers rent the air.
So rapid was the rush, and so thronging did they come, it seemed as if the very ground had given them up. With a cry of “Forward!” on we went; the enemy retired and fell back behind the cover of the road, where they kept up a tremendous fire upon the gun, to which now all our efforts were directed, to turn against the walls of the farmhouse.
The mist by this was cleared away, and we were exposed to the shattering fire which was maintained not only along the road, but from every window and crevice in the walls of the farmhouse. Our men fell fast, – several badly wounded; for the distance was less than half musket-range, even to the farthest.
“The bayonet, men! the bayonet! Leave the gun, and sweep the road of those fellows yonder!” said the major, as, vaulting over the fence, he led the way himself.
We were now reinforced, and numbered fully four companies; so that our attack soon drove in the enemy, who retreated, still firing, within the courtyard around the farmhouse.
“Bring up the gun, lads, and we ‘ll soon breach them,” said the major. But, unhappily, the party to whom it was committed, being annoyed at the service which kept them back when their companions were advancing, had hurled the piece off its carriage, and rolled it down the mountain.
With a muttered sacré on their stupidity, the officer cried out to scale the walls. If honor and rank and wealth had lain on the opposite side, and not death and agony, they could not have obeyed with more alacrity. Raised on one another’s shoulders, the brave fellows mounted the wall; but it was only to fall back again into their comrades’ arms, dead or mortally wounded. Still they pressed on: a reckless defiance of danger had shut out every other thought; and their cheers grew wilder and fiercer as the fire told upon them, while the shouts of triumph from those within stimulated them to the verge of madness.
“Stand back, men! stand back!” called the major; “down! I say.”
As he spoke, a dead silence followed; the men retreated behind the cover of the fence, and lay down flat with their faces to the ground. A low, hissing noise was then heard; and then, with a clap like thunder, the strong gate was rent into fragments and scattered in blazing pieces about the field. The crash of the petard was answered by a cheer wild as a war-whoop, and onward the infuriated soldiers poured through the still burning timbers. And now began a scene of carnage which only a hand-to-hand encounter can ever produce. From every door and window the Prussians maintained a deadly fire: but the onward tide of victory was with us, and we poured down upon them with the bayonet; and as none gave, none asked for, quarter, the work of death was speedy. To the wild shouts of battle, the crash, the din, the tumult of the fight, a dropping irregular fire succeeded; and then came the low, wailing cries of the wounded, the groans of the dying, and all was over! We were the victors; but what a victory! The garden was strewn with our dead; the hall, the stairs, every room was covered with bodies of our brave fellows, their rugged faces even sterner than in life.
For some minutes it seemed as though our emotions had unnerved us all, as we stood speechless, gazing on the fearful scene of bloodshed; when the low rolling of drums, heard from the mountain side, startled every listener.
“The Prussians! the Prussians!” called out three or four voices together.
“No, no!” shouted François; “I was too long a tambour not to know that beat; they ‘re our fellows.”
The drums rolled fuller and louder; and soon the head of a column appeared peering over the ascent of the road. The sun shone brightly on their gay uniforms and glancing arms, and the tall and showily-dressed tambour-major stepped in advance with the proud bearing of a conqueror.
“Form, men, and to the front!” said the major of the voltigeurs, who knew that his place was in the advance, and felt a noble pride that he had won it bravely.
As the column came up the road, the voltigeurs, scattered along the road on either side, advanced at a run. But no longer was there any obstacle to their course; no enemy presented themselves in sight, and we mounted the ascent without a single shot being fired.
As I stopped for time to recover breath, I could not help turning to behold the valley, which, now filled with armed men, was a grand and a gorgeous sight. In long columns of attack they came, the artillery filling the interspaces between them. A brilliant sunlight shone out; and I could distinguish the different brigades, with whose colors I was now familiar. Still my eye ranged over the field in search of cavalry, the arm I loved above all others, – that which, more than all the rest, revived the heroic spirit of the chivalrous ages, and made the horseman feel the ancient ardor of the belted knight. But none were within sight. Indeed, the very nature of the ground offered an obstacle to their movement, and I saw that here, as at Austerlitz, the day was for the infantry.
Meanwhile we toiled up the height, and at length reached the crest of the ridge. And then burst forth a sight such as all the grandeur I had ever beheld of war had never presented the equal to. On a vast tableland, slightly undulating on the surface, was drawn up the whole Prussian army in battle array, – a splendid force of nigh thirty thousand infantry, flanked by ten thousand sabres, the finest cavalry in Europe. By some inconceivable error of tactics, they had offered no other resistance to the French ascent of the mountain than the skirmishing troops, which fell back as we came on; and even now they seemed to wait patiently for the enemy to form before the conflict should begin. As our columns crowned the hill they instantly deployed, to cover the advance of those who followed: but the precaution seemed needless; for, except at the extreme left, where we heard the firing before, the Prussian army never moved a man, nor showed any disposition to attack.
It was now nine o’clock; the sky clear and cloudless, and a bright autumnal day permitted the eye to range for miles on every side. The Prussian army, but forty thousand strong, was drawn up in the form of an arch, presenting the convexity to our front; while our troops, ninety thousand in number, overlapped them on either flank, and extended far beyond them.
The battle began by the advance of the French columns and the retreat of the enemy, – both movements being accomplished without a shot being fired, and the whole seeming the manoeuvres of a field-day.
At length, as the Prussians took up the position they intended to hold, their guns were seen moving to the front; squadrons of cavalry disengaged themselves from behind the infantry masses; and then a tremendous tire opened from the whole line. Our troops advanced en tirailleurs, – that is, whole regiments thrown out in skirmishing order, – which, when pressed, fell back, and permitted the columns to appear.
The division to which I found myself attached received orders to move obliquely across the plain, in the direction of some cottages, which I soon heard was the village of Vierzehn Heiligen, and the centre of the Prussian position. A galling fire of artillery played upon the column as it went; and before we accomplished half the distance, our loss was considerable. More than once, too, the cry of “cavalry!” was heard; and quick as the warning itself, we were thrown into square, to receive the impetuous horsemen, who came madly on to the charge. Ney himself stood in the squares, animating the men by his presence, and cheering them at every volley they poured in.
“Yonder, men! yonder is the centre of their position,” said he, pointing to the village, which now bristled with armed men, several guns upon a height beyond it commanding the approach, and a cloud of cavalry hovering near, to pounce down upon those who might be daring enough to assail it. A wild cheer answered his words: both general and soldiers understood each other well.
In two columns of attack the division was formed; and then the word “Forward!” was given. “Orderly time, men!” said General Dorsenne, who commanded that with which I was; and, obedient to the order, the ranks moved as if on parade.
And now let me mention a circumstance, which, though trivial in itself, presents a feature of the peculiar character of courage which distinguished the French officer in battle. As the line advanced, the fire of the Prussian battery, which by this had found out our range most accurately, opened severely on us, but more particularly on the left; and as the men fell fast, and the grapeshot tore through the ranks, a wavering of the line took place, and in several places a broken front was presented. Dorsenne saw it at once, and placing himself in front of the advance, with his back towards the enemy, he called out, as if on parade, “Close order – close order! Move up there – left, right – left, right!” And so did he retire step by step, marking the time with his sword, while the shot flew past and about him, and the earth was scattered by the torrent of the grapeshot. Courage like this would seem to give a charmed life, for while death was dealing fast around him, he never received a wound.
The village was attacked at the bayonet point, and at the charge the enemy received us. So long as their artillery could continue its fire, our loss was fearful; but once within shelter of the walls and close in with the Prussian ranks, the firing ceased, and the struggle was hand to hand. Twice did we win our way up the ascent; twice were we beaten back. Strong reinforcements were coming up to the enemy’s aid; when a loud rolling of the drums and a hoarse cheer from behind revived our spirits, – it was Lannes’s division advancing at a run. They opened to permit our retiring masses to re-form behind them, and then rushed on. A crash of musketry rang out, and through the smoke the glancing bayonets flashed and the red flame danced wildly.
“En avant! en avant!” burst from every man, as, maddened with excitement, we plunged into the fray. Like a vast torrent tumbling from some mountain gorge, the column poured on, overwhelming all before it, – now struggling for a moment, as some obstacle delayed, but could not arrest, its march; now rushing headlong, it swept along. The village was won; the Prussians fell back. Their guns opened fiercely on us, and cavalry tore past, sabring all who sought not shelter within the walls: but the post was ours, the key of their position was in our hands; and Ney sent three messengers one after the other to the Emperor to let him know the result, and enable him to push forward and attack the Prussian centre.
Suddenly a wild cry was heard from the little street of the village: the houses were in flames. The Prussians had thrown in heated shells, and the wooden roofs of the cottages caught up the fire. For an instant all became, as it were, panic-struck, and a confused movement of retreat was begun: but the next moment order was restored; the sappers scaled the walls of the burning houses, and with their axes severed the timbers, and suffered the blazing mass to fall within the buildings.
But by this time the Prussians had re-formed their columns, and once more advanced to the attack. The moment was in their favor: the disorder of our ranks, and the sudden fear inspired by an unlooked-for danger still continued, when they came on. Then, indeed, began a scene of bloodshed the most horrible to witness: through the narrow streets, within the gardens, the houses themselves, the combatants fought hand to hand; neither would give way; neither knew on which side lay their supporting columns. It was the terrible carnage of deadly animosity on both sides.
Meanwhile the flames burst forth anew, and amid the crackling of the burning timbers and the dense smoke of the lighted thatch, the fight went on.
“Vandamme! Vandamme!” cried several voices, in ecstasy; “here come the grenadiers!” And, true enough, the tall shakos peered through the blue cloud.
“Hurrah for the Faubourg!” shouted a wild voltigeur, as he waved his cap and sprang forward. “Let us not lose the glory now, boys!”
The appeal was not made in vain. From every window and doorway the men leaped down into the street, and rushed at the Prussian column, which was advancing at the charge. Suddenly the column opened, a rushing sound was heard, and down with the speed of lightning rode a squadron of cuirassiers. Over us they tore, sabring as they went, nor halted till the head of Vandamme’s column poured in a volley. Then wheeling, they galloped back, trampling on our wounded, and dealing death with their broadswords.
As for me, a sabre-cut in the head had stunned me; and while I leaned for support against the wall of a house, a horseman tore past, and with one vigorous cut he cleft open my shoulder. I staggered back and fell, covered with bloody upon the door-sill. I saw our column pass on, cheering, and heard the wild cry, “En avant I en avant!” swelling from a thousand voices; and then, faint and exhausted, my senses reeled, and the rest was like an indistinct dream.
CHAPTER XXIV. A FRAGMENT OF A MAÎTRE d’ARMES EXPERIENCES
Stunned, and like one but half awake, I followed the tide of marching men which swept past like a mighty river, the roar of the artillery and the crash of battle increasing the confusion of my brain. All distinct memory of the remainder of the day is lost to me. I can recollect the explosion of several wagons of the ammunition train, and how the splinters wounded several of those around me; I also have a vague, dreamy sense of being hurried along at intervals, and then seeing masses of cavalry dash past. But the great prevailing thought above all others is, of leaning over the edge of a charrette, where I lay with some wounded soldiers, to watch the retreat of the Prussians, as they were pursued by Murat’s cavalry. François was at my side, and described to me the great events of the battle; but though I seemed to listen, the sounds fell unregarded on my ear. Even now, it seems to me like a dream; and the only palpable idea before me is the heated air, the dark and lowering sky, And the deafening thunder of the guns.
It is well known how the victory of Jena was crowned by the glorious issue of the battle of Auerstadt, where the main body of the Prussians, under the command of the king himself, was completely beaten by Davoust with a force not half their number. The two routed armies crossed in their flight, while the headlong fury of the French cavalry pressed down on them; nor did the terrible slaughter cease till night gave respite to the beaten.
The victors and the vanquished entered Weimar together, a distance of full six leagues from the field of battle. All struggle had long ceased. An unresisting massacre it was; and such was the disappointment and anger of the people of the country, that the Prussian officers were frequently attacked and slain by the peasantry, whose passionate indignation made them suspect treachery in the result of the battle.
All whose wounds were but slight, and whose health promised speedy restoration, were mounted into wagons taken from the enemy, and sent forward with the army. Among this number I found myself, and that same night slept soundly and peacefully in the straw of the charrette in which I travelled from Jena.
The Emperor’s headquarters were established at Weimar, and thither all the ambulances were conveyed; while the marshals, with their several divisions, were sent in pursuit of the enemy. As for myself, before the week elapsed, I was sufficiently recovered to move about; for happily the stunning effects which immediately followed the injury were its worst consequences, and my wound in the shoulder proved but trifling.
“And so you are determined to join the cavalry again?” said François, as he sat by my side under a tree, where a cheerful fire of blazing wood had drawn several to enjoy its comfort. “That is what I cannot comprehend by any stretch of ingenuity, – how a man who has once seen something of voltigeur life can go back to the dull routine of dragoon service.”
“Perhaps I have had enough of skirmishing, François,” said I, smiling.
“Is it of that knock on the pate you speak?” said he, contemptuously. “Bah! the heavy shako you wear would give a worse headache. Come, come; think better on ‘t. I can tell you” – here he lowered his voice to a whisper – “I can tell you, Burke, the major noticed the manner you held your ground in the old farmhouse. I heard him refuse to send a reinforcement when the Prussians made their second attack. ‘No, no,’ said he; ‘that hussar fellow yonder does his work so well, he wants no help from us.’ When he said that, my friend, be assured your promotion is safe enough. You were made for a voltigeur.”
“Come, François, it’s no use; all your flattery won’t make me desert. I ‘ll try and join my brigade to-morrow; that is, if I can find them.”
“You never told me in what way you first became separated from your corps. How was it?”
“There’s something of a secret there, François; you mustn’t ask me.”
“Ah, I understand,” said he, with a knowing look, and a gesture of his hand, as if making a pass with his sword. “Did you kill him?”
“No, not exactly,” said I, laughing.
“Merely gave him that pretty lunge en tierce you favored me with,” said he, putting his hand on his side.
“Nor even that.”
“Diable! then how was it?”
“I have told you it was a secret.”
“Secret! Confound it, man, there are no secrets in a campaign, except when the military chest is empty or the commissary falls short of grub; these are the only things one ever thinks of hushing up. Come, out with it!”
“Well, if it must be, I may as well have the benefit of your advice. So draw closer, for I don’t wish the rest to hear it.”
In as few words as I was able, I explained to François the circumstances of the night march, and the manner of my meeting with the Emperor at the ravine, where the artillery train was stopped. But when I came to the incident of the picket, and mentioned how, in rescuing the Emperor, my horse had been killed under me, he could no longer restrain himself, but turned to the rest, who, to the number of fifteen or sixteen, sat around the fire, and burst forth, —
“Mille tonnerres! but the boy is a fool!” And then, before I could interpose a word, blurted out the whole adventure to the company.
There was no use now to attempt any concealment at all; neither was there to feel anger at his conduct. One would have been as absurd as the other; and so I had to endure, as best I could, the various comments that were passed on my behavior, on the prudence of which certainly no second opinion existed.
“You must be right certain of promotion, Captain,” said an old sergeant, with a gray beard and mustache, “or you wouldn’t refuse such a chance as that.”
“Diable!” cried François; “don’t you see he wouldn’t accept of it. He is too proud to wait on the Petit Caporal, though he asked him to do so.”
“He ‘d have given you the cross of the Legion anyhow,” said another.
“Ay, by Jove!” exclaimed the riding-master of a dragoon regiment, “and sent him a remount from his own stud.”
“And you think that modesty!” said Francois, whose indignation at my folly knew no bounds. “Par Saint Joseph! if I’d been as modest, it’s not maître d’armes of a voltigeur battalion I ‘d be to-day; though I may say, without boasting, I’m not afraid to cross a rapier with any man in the army. No, no; that’s not the way I managed.”
“How was that, Maître Francois?” said a young officer, who felt curious to learn the circumstance to which he seemed to attach a story.
“If the honorable society cares to hear it,” said François, uncovering, and bowing courteously to all around, “I shall have great pleasure in recounting a little incident of my life.”
A general cry of acclamation and “bravo” met the polite proposal; while Francois, accepting a goutte from a canteen presented to him, began thus: —
“I began my soldier’s life at the first step of the ladder. I was a drummer-boy at Jemappes; and, when I grew old enough to exchange the drumstick for the sword, I was attached to the chasseurs à cheval, and went with them to Egypt. I could tell you some strange stories of our doings there, – I don’t mean with the Turks, mark you, but amongst ourselves, – for we had little affairs with the sword almost every day; and I soon showed them I was their master. But that is not to the purpose; what I am about to speak of happened in this wise.
“At break of day, one morning, the picket to which I was joined received orders to mount, and accompany the general along the bank of the Nile to the village of Chebrheis, where we heard that a Mameluke force were assembling, whose strength and equipment it was important to ascertain. Our horses were far from fresh when we started; the day previous had been spent in a fatiguing march from Rhemanieh, crossing a dreary desert, with hot sands and no water. But General Bonaparte always expected us to turn out, as if we had got a general remount; and so we made the best of it, and set out in as good style as we could. We had not gone above a league and a half, however, when we found that the slapping pace of the general had left the greater part of the escort out of sight; and of a score of four squadrons, not above twenty horsemen were present.
“The Emperor – you know he was only general then, but it ‘s all the same – laughed heartily when he found he had outridden the rest; indeed, for that matter, he laughed at our poor blown beasts, that shook on every limb, and seemed like to push their spare, gaunt bones through the trappings with which, for shame’s sake, we endeavored to cover them. But his joke was but shortlived; for just then, from behind the wall of an old ruined temple – whiz! – there came a shattering volley of musketry in the midst of us; the only miracle is how one escaped. The next moment there was a wild hurrah, and we beheld some fifty Mameluke fellows, all glittering with gold, coming down full speed on us, on their Arab chargers. Mille cadavres! what was to be done? Nothing, you’d say, but run for it. And so we should have done, if the beasts were able: but not a bit of it; they couldn’t have raised a gallop if Mourad Bey had been there with his whole army. And so we put a good face on it, and drew up across the way, and looked as if going to charge. Egad! the Turks were amazed. They halted up short, and stared about them to see what infantry or artillery there might be coming up to our assistance, so boldly did we hold our ground.
“‘We’ll keep them in check, General,’ said the officer of the picket. ‘Lose no time now, but make a dash for it, and you’ll get away.’ And so, without more ado, Bonaparte turned his horse’s head round, and, driving his spurs into him, set out at top speed.
“This was the signal for the Mameluke charge; and down they came. Sacristi! how the infidels rode us down! Over and over our fellows rolled, men and horses together, while they slashed with their keen cimeters on every side; few needed a second cut, I warrant you.
“By some good fortune, my beast kept his legs in the mêlée, and, with even better luck, got so frightened that he started off, and struck out in full gallop after the general, who, about two hundred paces in front of me, was dashing along, pursued by a Mameluke, with a cimeter held over his head. The Turk’s horse, however, was wounded, and could not gain even on the tired animal before him, while mine was at every stride overtaking him.
“The Mameluke, hearing the clatter behind, turned his head. I seized the moment, and discharged my only remaining pistol at him, – alas! without effect. With a wild war-cry the fellow swerved round and came down upon me, intending to take my horse in flank, and hurl me over. But the good beast plunged forward, and my enemy passed behind, and only grazed the haunches as he went; the moment after he was at my side. Parbleu! I did n’t like the companionship. I knew every turn of a broadsword or a rapier well; but a curved cimeter, keen as a razor, of Damascus steel, glittering and glistening over my head, was a different thing: the great dark eyes of the fellow, too, glared like balls of fire, and his white teeth were clenched. With a swing of his blade over his head, so loosely done I thought he had almost flung the weapon from his hand, he aimed a cut at my neck; but, quick as lightning, I dropped upon the mane, and the sharp blade shaved the red feather from my shako, and sent it floating in the air, while, with a straight point, I ran him through the body, and heard his death-shout as he fell bathed in blood upon the sands. The general saw him fall, and cried out something; but I could not hear the words, nor, to say truth, did I care much at the time: my happiest thought just then was to see the remainder of the escort, which we had left behind, coming up at a smart canter.
“The Turks no sooner perceived them than they wheeled and fled; and so we returned to the camp, with a loss of some twenty brave fellows, and none the wiser for all our trouble.
“‘What shall I do for you, friend?’ said the general to me, as I stood by his orders at the door of his tent, ‘what shall I do for you?’
“Ma foi! said I, with a shrug of my shoulders, ‘I can’t well say at a moment; perhaps the best thing would be to promise you ‘d never take me as one of your escort when you make such an expedition as this morning’s.’
“‘No, no, I ‘ll not say that. Who are you? What’s your grade?’
“‘François, maître d’armes of the Fourth Chasseurs of the Guard,’ said I, proudly. And, indeed, I thought he might have known me without the question.
“‘Ah, indeed!’ replied he, gravely. ‘Promotion is then of no use here; a maître d’armes, like a general of division, is at the top of the tree. Come, I have it; a fellow of your sort is never out of scrapes, – always duelling and quarrelling, under arrest three days in every week; I know you well. Now, Maître François, I ‘ll forgive you the first time you ask me for any offence within my power to pardon. Go; you are satisfied with that promise, – is it not so?’
“‘Yes, General; and I’ll soon jog your memory about it,’ said I, saluting and retiring from the tent.
“I see some old ‘braves’ of the Pyramids about me now,” continued François, “and so I need not dwell on the events of the campaign. You all know how General Bonaparte left the army to Kléber, and went back to France; and somehow we never had much luck after that. But so it was, I came back with the regiment, and was at the battle of Marengo when our brigade captured four guns of Skal’s battery, and carried off eleven of their officers our prisoners. You’d wonder now, Comrades, how that piece of good fortune should turn out so ill for me; but such was the case. After the battle was gained, General Bonaparte retired to Gerofola with his staff, and I was ordered to proceed after him, with the Hauptmann Klingenswert of the Austrian army, – one of our prisoners who had served on Melas’s staff, and knew everything about the effective strength of the army and all their plans.