Grangier was already three-quarters up the side when I had only done a third of the way. Stopping, and resting on his musket, he made signs that he would wait there for me. But I was so weak I could not pull my leg out of the snow. At last, unable to do more, I fell on my side, and rolled as far as the Niemen, landing on the ice.
As there was a great deal of snow, I did not hurt myself much, but I felt a pain in my shoulders, and my face was bleeding from the branches of some bushes I had rolled over. I picked myself up without a word, as if it was something perfectly natural, for I was so inured to suffering that nothing surprised me.
After having picked up my musket, I tried to climb up again at the same place, but the thing was impossible. I now thought I would see whether I could not manage to get under the waggons at the outlet of the bridge. There I dragged myself with difficulty. As I got near the first, I saw several Grenadiers and foot soldiers of the Guards mounted on the wheels, taking out handfuls of the money that was packed in the waggons. I was not tempted to do the same—I only tried to get through. But just then I heard a shouting: 'The Cossacks! To arms! to arms!' This cry was followed by several musket-shots, then by a great movement, which spread from the bottom to the top of the slope.
Not one among the Grenadiers and Chasseurs took any notice: their heads were in the waggon. I pulled one by the leg; he looked round, asking me if I had any money. I said, 'No; but the Cossacks are up there.' 'Is that all?' he replied. 'We are not going to disturb ourselvesfor those beasts, and leave them our money. Who wants some? I'll give it him.' And he threw two large bags of five-franc pieces on to the ground. All this was only to occupy those who were coming up, for I understood that they had just found some gold—I had heard the words 'jaunets' and 'forty-franc pieces.'
I took possession of the musket of one of the Grenadiers busy taking gold, left my own, which was filled with snow, and returned to the outlet of the bridge to go over the same ground again.
I had hardly reached the bridge, when I met Captain Debonnez of the Tirailleurs of the Guard, whom I have mentioned several times. He was with his Lieutenant and a private soldier—his whole company! The remainder, as he expressed it, had melted. He had a Cossack horse, which he could not get through the crowd. I told him my miserable condition. For sole answer he gave me a large piece of white sugar soaked in brandy. Then we separated, he to climb down upon the Niemen with his horse, I, biting at my sugar, to begin my climb upwards for the third time. Hardly had I begun, when I heard someone calling me. It was Grangier, who had climbed down the bank and was looking for me. He asked why I had not followed him, and I told him the reason. On that he walked in front of me, dragging me by his musket, I holding on to the end of the barrel. It was with immense difficulty, with the help of Grangier and biting at my lump of brandied sugar, that at last, completely exhausted, I reached the top.
Several of our friends were waiting for us—Leboude, sergeant-major; Oudicte, sergeant-major; Pierson,idem; Poton, sergeant. The others had scattered, walking like us in groups. The certainty that on entering Prussia the conditions would be better for us influenced us all, andbegan to make us indifferent to one another. From the spot where we were we could make out the Wilna road, some Russians marching upon Kowno, and others nearer; but the presence of Marshal Ney with a handful of men prevented their advancing. A man came towards us, walking with difficulty, leaning on a pine staff. On coming up to us he exclaimed: 'Ah,per Dio santo!I am not mistaken: these are friends!'
We looked at him, and recognised him by his voice and accent as Pellicetti, a Milanese, former Vélite-Grenadier. Three years before, he had left the Imperial Guard to enter that of the King of Italy as officer. Poor Pellicetti! It was only by the remains of his cap that we could guess to what corps he belonged. He told us that three or four houses had been enough to accommodate the only corps remaining of Prince Eugène's army. He was waiting for one of his friends, who had a Cossack horse carrying the bit of baggage left to them. They had been separated on leaving Kowno.
It was December 14th—it might have been about nine o'clock in the morning—the sky was gloomy, the cold bearable, and no snow was falling. We walked on without knowing where we were going, but on reaching the highroad we saw a great post with directions, informing the soldiers of the different corps of the road they must follow.
We took the one inscribed for the Imperial Guard, but many marched straight in front of them without taking any notice. A few steps further on we saw five or six unfortunate soldiers looking like spectres, their faces emaciated and bedaubed with blood off their hands, with which they had been scratching in the snow for crumbs of biscuit fallen from a waggon which had just been pillaged.
We went on till about three in the afternoon. We had only walked three short leagues on account of Sergeant Poton, who seemed to be suffering a great deal.
We had caught sight of a village to our right, about a quarter of a league from the road, and we decided to spend the night there. On reaching it we found two soldiers of the line, who had just killed a cow at the entrance to a stable. This was a good sign, and so we turned in. The peasant to whom the cow belonged came himself to cut some for us, in order to save as much of the meat as possible. He made a fire, and then brought two pots of water for soup. We had some clean straw and a good fire; it was a very long time since we had been so happy. Shortly afterwards we ate our soup; then we went to sleep.
I was lying near Poton, who did nothing but groan. I asked him what was the matter. He said: 'My dear fellow, I am certain I shall not be able to go further!'
Without knowing the reason why he talked like this (a serious accident, unknown to us all), I comforted him, telling him that after he had rested he would be much better; but soon after fever came on, and throughout the night he did nothing but cry and wander in his mind. Several times during the night I found him writing in a memorandum-book, and tearing out the leaves.
Once, when I was sleeping peacefully, I felt myself pulled by the arm. It was poor Poton, who said:
'Dear friend, I am utterly unable to leave here—even to take a step—so you must do me a great service. I count on you, if you have the happiness to see France again; if you do not, you must ask Grangier, on whom I count, as I do on you, to carry out my wishes. Here,' he continued, 'is a little packet of papers that you must send to my mother, to the address given, accompanied bya letter, in which you must describe the situation in which you left me, without, however, letting her lose all hope of seeing me again some day. Here is a silver spoon that I beg you will accept; it is far better that you should have it than the Cossacks.'
Then he handed me his little packet of papers, saying again that he counted on me. I promised him to do all he had just told me, but I little thought we should be obliged to leave him.
On December 15th, when we prepared to depart, I repeated to our friends what Poton had told me. They thought he had lost heart, or that he had gone mad, so that each began to chaff him in his own way.
But for sole answer the unhappy Poton showed us two hernias that he had had for a long time, a consequence of the repeated efforts he had made in climbing the bank at Kowno. We saw indeed that it was impossible for him to stir. Sergeant-Major Leboude thought it would be a good thing to leave him with the peasant who owned the house; but before fetching him, as Poton had a good deal of money—above all, gold—we made haste to sew up his gold in the waist-band of his trousers. Then we called the peasant, and, as he spoke German, it was easy to make him understand us. We offered him five five-franc pieces, telling him he should have four times as much, and perhaps more, if he would take care of the sick man. He promised, swearing in the name of God, and that he would even go and fetch a doctor. Then, as time pressed, we took farewell of our comrade.
Before leaving, he made me promise not to forget; we embraced him and left him. I do not know if the peasant kept his word, but never again did I hear Poton spoken of. According to all accounts, he was an excellent fellow, a true comrade, having received a good education, a rarething at that period. He was a Breton gentleman, belonging to one of the best families of the country.
I religiously fulfilled my mission, for on my arrival at Paris, in the month of May, I sent all the papers to the address given. They contained his will, and the affecting farewell he had written during his fever. I took a copy of one, which I reproduce:
'Adieu, bonne mère,Mon amie;Adieu, ma chère,Ma bonne Sophie!Adieu, Nantes, où j'ai reçu la vie;Adieu, belle France, ma patrie;Adieu, mère chérie:Je vais quitter la vie—Adieu!'
For several years I gave up writing my Journal of the Russian Campaign—that is to say, I gave up putting those memoirs in order which I had written while a prisoner in 1813. A singular mania had come upon me; I doubted whether all that I had seen and endured with so much courage and patience in this terrible campaign was not the effect of my imagination.
Nevertheless, when the snow is falling, and I find myself sitting with my friends—former soldiers of the Empire—of whom some are of the Imperial Guard, and who, like myself, have gone through that memorable campaign, it is always there that our memories take us; and I have noticed that with them, as with me, indelible impressions are left. We speak of our glorious campaigns with pride.
To-day my mother has just brought me some letters that I wrote to her during this campaign, and of which I was regretting the loss, so I am taking courage again. I must add to that the advice of friends who are making mepromise to finish it. For my own part, it makes me live my life over again. One day, perhaps—who knows?—my memoirs, although badly written, will interest those who read them. The great genius is no more, but his name will live for ever. Thus, taking my courage in both hands, I am going on; so that, after me, my grandchildren, reading their grandfather's memoirs, will say, 'Grandfather was in the great battles with the Emperor Napoleon!' They will see how, in Spain, he 'dressed down' the Prussians, the Austrians, the Russians, the English in Spain, and many others; they will see, too, that grandfather did not always lie upon a bed of roses; and although he may not have been one of the best Catholics in France, they will see that he often fasted, and more than once he fasted on a feast-day!
At seven o'clock on the morning of December 15th, we left the stable where we had spent the night, and walked in the direction of the road until we reached the spot where we had branched off the preceding evening; there we halted.
Grangier still had with him my little copper kettle. He carried it in front of him, fastened with a strap to his belt, for fear someone should make off with it, for a pan in which snow could be melted and something cooked was a precious article. Grangier returned it to me, for he foresaw that I might again be left behind, and might want it. He fastened it firmly to my knapsack.
The sky was clear, but the cold bearable. We saw only a very few men upon the road; from this we concluded that the evening before the greater number had gone on further, and in different directions.
We caught sight of a column of men upon the road in the direction of Kowno, but we could not make out ifthey were French or Russians; so in this uncertainty we resumed our march.
For an hour I walked fairly well, but at the end of this time a severe colic seized me, and I was forced to stop; it was still the result of my Wilna poisoning. I set down this relapse to the broth that I had taken overnight, and before setting out in the morning.
In this way I progressed till about three o'clock in the afternoon. I was now not very far from a forest that I had caught sight of some time before, and which I wanted to reach in order to pass the night there.
I was no further away from it than a musket could carry, when, to the right of the road, I caught sight of a house where, around a large fire, several soldiers of the different army corps were gathered, the greater part of them being of the Imperial Guard. As I was tired, I stopped to warm and rest myself a little. Some of the men proposed that I should remain with them; I accepted gladly.
The cold had been bearable throughout the day, and was so still, and we thought one might feel easy about the enemy; but some men coming up on the right of the road told us they had just caught sight of cavalry, and that they were sure it was Russian. 'And if it was the devil,' replied an old Chasseur of the Guard, 'it would not prevent me establishing my headquarters here! Friends, do as I am doing—load your weapons and fix bayonets.' We all quietly did as he said. 'And then,' he added, 'we can retreat to the wood. Upon my soul, it's a famous position!'
On this, he went up to a horse that had been killed a little distance from the fire, cut a piece off it, and returned calmly to seat himself upon his knapsack near the fire, and roast his meat at the end of his sword. More than twenty soldiers were also roasting horseflesh, some sitting on their knapsacks, others going on their knees.
Opposite to the Chasseur of whom I have just spoken was a woman, sitting on a soldier's knapsack. Her head was in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees; a soldier's gray overcoat over an old silk dress in tatters was all her clothing. On her head was a sheepskin cap, held in its place by a torn silk handkerchief tied under the chin. The Chasseur spoke to her:
'Look here, Mother Madeleine!'
She did not answer. Another man near her pushed her, saying:
'They're speaking to you, mother.'
'To me?' she said. 'My name is Marie. What do you want?'
'A drink ofrogomme, as at drill-time.'
'Rogomme!You know very well I have none.' And she returned to her former position.
Another woman who was near the fire wore on her head a schabraque, bordered with red cloth, cut into festoons and drawn around the neck with the cord of a Grenadier's bearskin, the tassels of which fell under her chin. She had also over her dress a Guard's blue overcoat. This woman, hearing the Chasseur's voice, looked up, asking who wanted spirits.
'Ah! is that you, Mother Gâteau?' answered the soldier. 'It is I who am asking for spirits. I, Michaut. I dare say you are surprised to see me. Well, if anyone is more amazed than I am at meeting you, particularlyschabraquéeas you are, may the devil take him! Even before the passage of the Bérézina, thinking of you sometimes, dear Mother Gâteau, I imagined that the crows must long since have made afristouille à la neigeof your old carcase!'
'Wretch!' replied Mother Gâteau; 'they will eat you before they do me, you old drunkard! Ah,' she continued,in a jeering tone, 'you must be wanting spirits indeed! You've had to go without for three months; but very likely at Wilna, and yesterday at Kowno, you've taken a good dose: that's why you have so much tongue now. One thing astonishes me: that you're not dead of drink, like so many of the others we saw in the street. So many brave fellows left down yonder, and this good-for-nothing, this bad soldier, still lives!'
'Stop there, Mother Gâteau!' replied the old soldier; 'slang me as much as you like, but stop short ofbad soldier! Halte-là!'
Then, jeering all the time, he continued to eat the piece of horseflesh he was holding in his hand, and which he had ceased to bite at while answering the oldcantinière.
Directly afterwards she began again: 'For two years now he's had a spite against me, ever since I wouldn't give him credit at the Military School. Ah! if my poor husband were not dead—if a rascally ball had not cut him in two at Krasnoë!...'
And then she stopped.
'It wasn't your husband! You weren't married!'
'Not married! not married! Haven't I been with him nearly five years, ever since the Battle of Eylau, and I'm not married? What do you say to that, Marie?'—turning to the othercantinière.
But Marie, whose marriage was of the same kind as Mother Gâteau's, said nothing.
The soldier asked Mother Gâteau if she hadmonté à la roueon the mountains at Wilna.
'Ah!' she said, 'if I'd been strong enough, I shouldn't have missed the chance. I picked up some in the snow, but it hasn't done me much good. When you find yourself with rascals who respect nothing, we women can never feel safe. The evening after crossing the mountain, whenI reached our men's bivouac, I had still a little of the brandy I had brought from Wilna, so I gave it them for a place at the fire, and lay down to sleep on the snow near two soldiers of our regiment—or, rather, two thieves, for they cribbed half of my money. By good chance I was lying on a pocket they could not get to. Trust a comrade after that! Happily, I still have enough to take me as far as Elbing. Once there, we shall find some way of beginning the campaign afresh. I want no more carts; I will have twocognias, with baskets on their backs. We shall be luckier, perhaps. What do you say, Marie?'
Marie did not reply.
'Marie,' said the old soldier, 'has had a second husband in a year, and if she likes I will marry her for a third.'
'You, you old scamp!' answered Mother Gâteau. 'She'd be hard up to take you!'
The Chasseur went up to Marie and offered her a piece of horseflesh. Marie took it, saying, 'Thank you,mon vieux.'
'So that's settled,' he went on. 'On reaching Paris I will marry you; I will make you happy.'
For sole answer, Marie sighed, saying, 'How can you chaff an unhappy woman like me?'
'What I have just said,' the old Chasseur replied, 'is no joke, and to prove it I will offer Mother Gâteau, without any malice, what I have just offered you—a little piece of "gee-gee" on my thumb.'
As he spoke, he moved forward to offer it; but Mother Gâteau, seeing him coming, looked at him angrily, and said, 'Go to the devil! I don't want anything of yours.'
At this speech of Mother Gâteau's, Marie, who was sitting in front of me, lifted her head, saying that this was no time to quarrel. Then she stared at me from head to foot.
'I am not mistaken,' she said, addressing me by name—'mon pays, is it you?'
'It is, Marie, really.'
I had just recognised her, too, by her voice, not by her face, for poor Marie's freshness had disappeared; cold, hardship, fire, and the smoke of the bivouac had made her unrecognisable. It was Marie, our formercantinière, whom I thought dead, and whose deserted cart with two wounded I had come upon on the night of November 22nd. This is her history:
Marie came from Namur; that is why she called me herpays. Her husband belonged to Liége, a fencing-master, and rather a bad lot. Marie was a good sort, thinking nothing of herself, retailing her goods to the soldiers—to those who had no money as well as to those who had.
In every one of our battles she had shown herself most devoted in helping the wounded. One day she herself was wounded; it did not prevent her from going on with her help, careless of the risks she was running, for the bullets and grape-shot were falling all round her. Besides all these good qualities, Marie was pretty; she had a number of friends, too, and her husband was not jealous.
In 1811, while encamped before Almeida (Portugal), some months before leaving for the Russian campaign, the poor fellow must go plundering in a village. He entered a country-house, carried off a clock not worth twenty francs, was foolish enough to bring it into camp, and was arrested. There were very severe orders against marauders, and General Roguet, our Commandant, court-martialed him. He was condemned to be shot within twenty-four hours. Marie therefore became a widow. In a regiment, particularly during a campaign, if a woman is pretty, she is not long without a husband; so at the endof two months' mourning Marie was consoled and married again, as they marry in the army.
Some months after, her new husband was transferred as non-commissioned officer to a regiment of the Young Guard, so she left us to follow him; she had been with us for four years.
In Russia she met with the fate of all thecantinièresin the army: she lost horses, carts, money, furs, and also her protector. As for herself, she had the luck to get back. Four months and a half later, at the Battle of Lutzen, May 2nd, 1813, chance brought us together; she had just been wounded in the right hand, while giving drink to a sick man.
I learned afterwards that she returned to France, and reappeared in the Hundred Days. She was taken prisoner at the Battle of Waterloo, but, being a Belgian subject, she was released.[64]
I asked Marie where her husband was.
'Why, you know very well,' she answered, 'that he was killed at Krasnoë.' (I had not heard this before.) 'He was a good fellow; I miss him very much.'
Then she frowned and bent her head. A moment afterwards she raised it again, and, my eyes being still fixed upon her, she looked at me smiling, but it was a sad smile. I asked her what she was thinking about.
'About eating, as you can guess. I used to have a friend who got me food; now I eat whenever I have anything given me, or when I find something, and that doesn't happen often. There is only drink to be had.'
And as she spoke she took a pinch of snow, and carried it to her mouth. I saw her rise with great difficulty toset off on the march; she gave me her hand, and said 'Farewell.' I noticed that she was worn out with fatigue and privation; that she walked with difficulty, leaning on a stick. Mother Gâteau followed her, sheepskin on head, swearing and mumbling between her teeth. I concluded that it was still about the old Chasseur.
Just then there might have been about forty of us, and our number was continually increasing. I caught sight of Humblot, one of our sergeants. Seeing me, he asked what I was doing there. I answered that I was resting, and considering whether I should not do well to pass the night where I was, and start the first thing in the morning.
Humblot, a good fellow who liked me, observed, first, that the weather was bearable; then what advantage it would be to me to have crossed the forest: for, he said, on the other side we should find houses where we could spend the night. The next day early we could reach Wilbalen, a small town, from three to four leagues distant. There we should find our comrades, and be able to buy the necessaries of life. In fact, he said so much that I took up musket and knapsack and set off with Sergeant Humblot. While walking, Humblot told me that, although we were in Pomeranian Prussia, it was not wise to walk alone or lag behind, for several thousand Cossacks had crossed the Niemen on the ice.
Then he told me that he had left Kowno the day before with many others who had not troubled about anything, for Marshal Ney was still there to keep the Russians off the town, with a rear-guard composed of Germans and some French. The Germans, he told me, had formed part of the garrison of Kowno, and were in excellent condition, having wanted for nothing; but they were poor soldiers, and but for the few French among them, they would have thrown down their arms and fled.
'I am going to tell you,' he went on, 'what happened to me yesterday, and you will see if I am not right in persuading you to get out of this cursed country as soon as possible.
'After having crossed the Niemen and come within a quarter of a league of the town, we saw, some distance off, more than 2,000 mounted Cossacks and others. We halted to decide what was to be done, and also to wait for those who were behind. Shortly afterwards we found ourselves about 400 men strong, of all equipments. We formed into a column, so as, if need be, to re-form into a square. Some officers who were among us took the command. Twenty-two Poles afterwards joined us. About fifty of the strongest men, who possessed good weapons, took up a position as sharp-shooters, in front and on our flanks.
'We marched resolutely upon the cavalry, who at the approach of the sharp-shooters drew off to right and left of the way. On reaching the level of the Russians, the column halted to wait for some men still in the rear. Only a few would be able to rejoin us, it seemed, for a party of Cossacks detached themselves to cut off those farthest off.
'A man of the name of Boucsin,[65]who played the big drum in our band, was in the rear, and was doing his utmost to join the column with (marvellous to relate!) his drum still on his back, and in his hands a bag of five-franc pieces. This load hindered him from getting along quickly; he was attacked by the Cossacks at fifty paces to the rear and to the left of the column. He received a lance-thrust between the shoulders, and fell full length into the snow, the drum being thrown over his head. Two Cossacksinstantly dismounted to strip him, but a Polish officer and three men ran upon them, took one prisoner with his horse, and freed the drummer of his instrument, which he left in the field. He got off with a lance-thrust and half of his money, which he distributed among those who had saved his life.
'After this the column set off again to the shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" with the Cossack and his horse in the middle of them.'
Humblot had barely finished his story before I was forced to stop, in the same trouble again. Meantime he walked slowly, so that I could catch up with him. When I resumed my march, I found a great crowd preventing me from getting along. I regained the road, but had hardly done so, when I heard repeated shouts: 'Look out for the Cossacks!' I imagined it was a false alarm, when I caught sight of several officers, armed with muskets, who halted and bravely stationed themselves in the road, facing the noise, and crying out: 'Never mind! Let the dogs come on!'[66]I looked behind me; they were so close that one of the horses touched me—three were ahead, others followed.
I had only just time to fling myself into the wood, where I thought I should be in safety; but the three Cossacks entered it almost at the same moment, and, unhappily, just at this spot the wood was very open. I tried to get further in, but by a bad stroke of luck one of my attackers came on. Imagine my position! I wanted to stop, but it was impossible, two of the three Cossacks being only a few steps away. Happily, a few steps further on the trees were closer together. The Cossacks were delayed by them, while I went on at the same pace; but, stopped short by some branches embedded in the snow, I fell fulllength, my head remaining buried. I tried to rise, but I felt myself held by one leg. I feared one of my Cossacks was gripping me, but it was only briars and thorns. Making a last effort, I rose and looked behind me. The Cossacks had halted; two were looking for a spot wide enough to get their horses through. Meanwhile, I dragged myself on with extreme difficulty.
A little further on I was stopped by a fallen tree, but I was so weak that I found it impossible to lift my legs over it, and I was obliged to sit down.
I had not been there five minutes, when I saw the Cossacks dismount and fasten their horses to a bush. I thought they were at last coming to take me, and I had already tried to make an effort to save myself, when I saw that the two were busying themselves with a third, who had received a furious sword-stroke on the face. The wounded man lifted up a piece of his cheek that was hanging down on to his shoulder, while the others got ready a handkerchief, which they passed under his chin and tied on the top of his head.
All this took place about ten paces away from me, the Cossacks looking at me while they talked.
When they had finished pasting their comrade's face, they bore down directly on me. But now, thinking myself lost, I made a last effort, mounted the tree-trunk, took up my loaded musket, and determined to fire on the first who came near. I had only the two men to deal with, as the third, after being bandaged, seemed to suffer like one of the damned, walking up and down, and banging the hind-quarters of his horse with his fists.
Seeing my fighting position, the two Cossacks stopped, and made signs that I was to go to them. I understood that they meant no ill towards me, but I remained as I was, all the same.
I heard on my left, in the direction of the road, shouts and oaths, accompanied by musket-shots, which made my enemies uneasy, for I saw them looking frequently in the direction of the sound. I hoped they would leave me, for the sake of their own safety; but a fourth savage now came up, as if making his escape. Seeing some of his comrades, he then caught sight of me, and, on account of the underwood, dismounted, fastened his horse up beside the others, and, pistol in hand, advanced towards me, under cover of the trees; the two others followed in the same fashion. It hardly needed all that ceremony for vanquishing me, but, as luck would have it, at that moment the shouts on the right grew louder, accompanied by shots; the horses, terrified, and not being very securely fastened, escaped in the direction of the road, and the Cossacks set off to pursue them.
Considering my deplorable condition, I felt it would be impossible to walk further without changing my clothes. It may be remembered that in a portmanteau found on the mountain of Ponari I had some shirts and white cotton breeches—clothes belonging to an army commissary.
Having opened my knapsack, I drew out a shirt, and hung it on my musket; then the breeches, which I placed beside me on the tree. I took off my jacket and overcoat, and my waistcoat with the quilted yellow silk sleeves that I had made out of a Russian lady's skirt at Moscow. I untied the shawl which was wrapped round my body, and my trousers fell about my heels. As for my shirt, I had not the trouble of taking it off, for it had neither back nor front; I pulled it off in shreds. And there I was, naked, except for a pair of wretched boots, in the midst of a wild forest, at four o'clock in the afternoon, with eighteen to twenty degrees of cold, for the north wind had begun to blow hard again.
On looking at my emaciated body, dirty, and consumed with vermin, I could not restrain my tears. At last, summoning the little strength that remained, I set about my toilet. With snow and the rags of my old shirt I washed myself to the best of my power. Then I drew on my new shirt of fine longcloth, embroidered down the front. I got into the little calico breeches as quickly as I could, but I found them so short that even my knees were not covered, and my boots only reaching half-way up my leg, all this part was bare. Finally, I put on my yellow silk waistcoat, my riding-jacket, my overcoat, over this my belts and collar; and there I was, completely attired, except for my legs. After this I got down from my tree-trunk, and going a hundred steps or so, I caught sight of two people, a man and a woman, and I recognised that they were Germans. They seemed to be frightened. I asked them if they would like to come with me, but in a trembling voice the man answered 'No,' and, pointing in the direction of the road, he uttered the single word 'Cossack!'
They were a canteen man and his wife, belonging to the Rhine Confederation, probably one of the Kowno garrison, who were following up the retreat, and being, like myself, surprised in the forest by the noise, had taken to flight. The woman advised her husband to join me, but the man would not consent, and, in spite of all I could say to him, I was obliged, to my regret, to go on alone.
After having wandered haphazard for about half an hour, I stopped to take my bearings, for night was coming on. In this part of the forest there was a great deal of snow—neither track nor beaten road, nor even a trace of one. Sometimes I sat down to rest upon trees lying uprooted by the great winds. I had to grasp at the twigs of the bushes in fear of falling, I was so weak. My legswere buried in the snow above my boots, so that they got filled. However, I was not cold—on the contrary, drops of sweat fell down my face; but my legs refused to carry me. In consequence of the efforts I was making to drag myself out of the snow, in which I sank often up to my knees, I felt an extraordinary lassitude in my thighs. I will not attempt to describe what I suffered. For more than an hour I was walking in the dark, lighted only by the stars. Not succeeding in getting out of the forest at that point nearest to the road, and able to do no more, exhausted, breathless, I resolved to rest. I propped myself up against the trunk of a tree and remained motionless. A moment afterwards I heard a dog barking. I looked in the direction of the sound, and saw a light shining. Sighing hopefully, and summoning all the strength I had, I turned towards this new quarter. But thirty paces further on were four horses, and, seated around a fire, four Cossacks. Three peasants were there too. Amongst them were the canteen man and his wife whom I had met, taken, no doubt, by those Cossacks who had wanted to make off with me. I easily recognised the one with the sabre-cut across the face, for I was not twenty steps away.
I watched them for some time, wondering if it would not be better to go and give myself up rather than die like a brute in the midst of the wood. The light of the fire tempted me; but for some unknown reason I did the exact opposite, and drew back. Still I watched them, and noticed that several earthen pots were around the fire. They had straw to lie on, and the horses had hay to eat.
The number of trees made it impossible for me to follow the exact direction I wished to take. I was obliged to bear to the left, fortunately for me, for, after taking a few steps, I found the forest clearer, but thesnow in greater quantities, so that I fell several times. One last time I rose and reproached God for my misfortunes, who was yet watching over me. I now found myself at the end of the forest and on the high road. There I fell upon my knees and thanked Him against whom I had just rebelled.
I walked straight on. The road was good, and no doubt the right one; but the wind, which I had not felt in the forest, was too keen for my bare legs. My coat, being long, kept off a little of the cold.
Oddly enough, I was not hungry. I do not know whether the excitement I had been through since the Cossacks' attack were the cause, or if it were the effect of my sickness, but since leaving the stable where I had had some soup and meat I had no desire to eat. However, fancying that there ought to be a piece of meat still left in my bag, I searched for it, and was lucky enough to find it, and, although hardened by the frost, I ate it as I went along. My meal over, I raised my head, and saw two men on horseback on my left, apparently advancing with caution, and further on, along the road, was a man who seemed to be getting along better than I was. I doubled my pace to join him, but all at once he disappeared.
Looking to the left, I caught sight of a little hut, and went in. But hardly was I inside, when I heard the click of a musket, and a deep voice said:
'Who goes there?'
'A friend,' I answered, and added: 'A soldier of the Imperial Guard!'
'Ah, ah!' came the answer. 'Where the devil do you come from, comrade, that I haven't met you while I've been walking all alone?'
I related to him a part of what had happened to me since the Cossacks' attack, of which he knew nothing.
We resumed our march. I saw that my new comrade was an old Chasseur of the Guard, and that he carried on his knapsack and around his neck a pair of cloth trousers that apparently were of no use to him, but could be of the greatest benefit to me. I begged him to let me buy them of him, and showed him the naked state of my legs.
'My poor comrade!' he said, 'I would willingly oblige you if I could, but I must tell you that the trousers are burnt in several places, and are full of great holes.'
'Never mind that; let me have them. They may perhaps save my life.'
He pulled them off his knapsack, saying: 'Take them.'
Then I took two five-franc pieces from my bag, asking him if it was enough.
'Quite,' he answered. 'Make haste and let us be off, for I see two men on horseback coming down this way. They may be Cossack scouts.'
While he was speaking I had put on the trousers—I kept them in place as I had the former ones, with the shawl wrapped round my body—and we set off. We hadn't taken a hundred steps before my companion, who walked faster than I did, was already twenty yards in front of me. I saw him stoop and pick something up. At first I couldn't distinguish what it was, but coming to the spot, I saw a dead man, and recognised him as a Grenadier of the Royal Dutch Guard that, from the beginning of the campaign, had formed part of the Imperial Guard. He had neither knapsack nor bearskin, but he still had his musket, cartridge-pouch, sabre, and great black gaiters on his legs, reaching above the knee. I took the gaiters and put them over my trousers to cover the holes. Then I set off walking again, rather faster than usual, as if the dead man were running after me.
Meanwhile the Chasseur had gone on, and I could not see him. Soon afterwards I came to a great building, and recognising it as a posting-house, I made up my mind to pass the night there. An infantry soldier, the sentinel, called out: 'Who goes there?'
'A friend,' I answered, and entered.
The first thing I saw was about thirty men, some of them sleeping, others cooking horseflesh and rice, round several fires. To the right were three men, sitting round a bowl of rice. I sank down beside them. After a moment I tried to speak to one of them, pulling him by his coat. He looked at me without a word. Then, in a piteous tone, I said in a low voice, that the others might not hear: 'Comrade, I entreat you, let me eat some spoonfuls of rice. I will pay you. You will do me a great service; you will save my life.'
At the same time I offered him two pieces of five francs, which he took, saying, 'Eat.'
He handed me his spoon and an earthenware plate, and also gave up his place near the fire. For my ten francs there were about fifteen spoonfuls of rice still left.
I looked about me when I had eaten to see if the old Chasseur were there. I discovered him near a hayrack, busy cutting up a bearskin to make ear-lappets of. This bearskin belonged to the Dutch Grenadier; he had picked it up when I saw him stoop. I went over to him to rest, but hardly was I stretched on the straw when the sentinel exclaimed, 'Look out!' saying that he had caught sight of Cossacks.
Immediately everybody jumped up and seized their arms. A shout was heard, 'A friend—Frenchman!'
Two cavalrymen entered the barn, and, dismounting, showed themselves. But several began questioning them, in particular the old Chasseur, who said:
'How is it you are on horseback, and dressed like a Cossack? Probably to rob and pillage our sick and wounded.'
'Nothing of the sort,' replied one of the two troopers; 'when you see us you will believe it. We can prove it, and when we are settled we will tell you all about it.'
The speaker, after having tied up the two horses and given them some straw, of which there was plenty in the barn, returned to his companion, who seemed to walk with difficulty, and, taking him by the arm, led him up to a place beside me. After eating some bread and drinking brandy, and having also given a pull to the old soldier and myself, the man who had spoken before began:
'Yesterday evening I saved my brother from the Cossacks, who had wounded and taken him prisoner. I must tell you about it, as it is a most wonderful story.
'The evening before the arrival at Kowno, dying of cold and hunger, and spent with fatigue, I wandered from the road with two officers of the 71st, armed, like myself, with muskets, to find some village in which we could spend the night. But after having walked about half a league, we were able to go no further without running the risk of perishing in the snow, so we decided to pass the night in a deserted, tumble-down house, where, most luckily, we found both wood and straw, and, as I still had some flour left from Wilna, we made a good fire and had some broth.
'The next day, early in the morning, we set about finding our way back to the high road; but just as we were about to leave the house we were surrounded by about fifteen Cossacks. We stopped in front of the door to reconnoitre them; they made signs to us to approach, but we did the opposite. We re-entered the house, closed the door, and, opening the two little windows, began afire which made the Cossacks fly. At long musket-shot they stopped, but we had reloaded our weapons and left the house, firing a second volley, at which a horse and rider fell. The latter freed himself of the horse and left it. We set off at our quickest pace, but had hardly taken fifty steps before we saw them bearing down upon us.
'Directly afterwards they went to the right to pick up a portmanteau off the horse we had shot. Soon they were lost to sight, and we gained the road to Kowno, which we were to reach that same day. We were now in the midst of over 6,000 stragglers, and, as it always happened amid this rabble, I was separated from my comrades.
'I walked all day, and it was hardly dark when I found myself near the Niemen, and about a league from Kowno. As there were houses to be seen on the other side, I decided to cross the river on the ice, so as to find a shelter, as I did the night before.
'On gaining the bank, I saw two or three houses about half a league to the right, where I was received fairly well by the peasants, and passed a quiet night. The next morning at daylight I took to the road, to rejoin the column on the other side of Kowno; but hardly had I gone a couple of hundred steps, when I was suddenly surrounded by a dozen Cossacks, who, without doing me any harm, or even thinking of disarming me, made me march in front of them in exactly the direction I had wanted to take. I was a prisoner, though I could not realize it.
'After an hour's walking, we came to a village. There I was relieved of my arms and of my money, but I was lucky enough to save some pieces of gold hidden in the lining of my waistcoat. I took off my shako and covered my head with a cap of black sheepskin I had found. I noticed that the Cossacks were laden with gold and silver,and that they did not pay much attention to me, so I decided to take the first opportunity of escaping.
'It might have been about ten o'clock when we left the village. We met another detachment of Cossacks escorting prisoners, some of whom were men belonging to the Imperial Guard, taken in the sortie from Kowno. I was placed among these.
'We marched, with frequent stoppages, till about three o'clock. I noticed that the leader was uncertain of the way, not knowing the country. Before nightfall we had reached a little village, and were put into a barn, where we all went through a very minute inspection. I trembled for my gold, but I trembled for nothing.
'The search was barely over when I heard my name called by a prisoner unknown to me. "Here," I answered. Another prisoner at the far end answered too. Then, moving in the direction whence the voice had come, I asked who answered to the name of Dassonville. "I!" replied my brother, whom you see here. Think of our surprise on finding each other! We embraced, weeping. He told me that he had been wounded in the leg on November 28th, near the Bérézina bridge. I told him my plan was to make our escape before they forced us to recross the Niemen; for being now in Pomerania, a country belonging to Prussia, we must take the opportunity that offered.
'The peasants brought us potatoes and water, a piece of good luck we were far from expecting. They were distributed among us—four for each of us. We threw ourselves upon them ravenously, and almost all declared that just then it was better to be a prisoner eating potatoes than to be free, but dying of hunger and cold on the high road. But I said that, all the same, it would be better to get out of their clutches. "Who knows," I said,"that they will not take us to Siberia!" I showed them a possibility of escape, for, close to where I was lying beside my brother, I had found out a place where, by taking down two boards, we could get out easily. They agreed with me; but an hour afterwards, as ill-luck would have it, we were told we must leave. Night had come on; many of the men, worn out with fatigue, had fallen asleep. The Cossacks, seeing their orders were not obeyed quickly, struck those still lying down with the knout. They would have struck my brother, who could not rise quickly enough because of his wound, but I placed myself before him and warded off the blows, meanwhile helping him to rise, and, instead of leaving the barn like the others, we hid ourselves behind the door, and were lucky enough not to be seen.
'The Cossacks and all the prisoners were gone; we did not dare to breathe. Three Cossacks on horseback crossed the barn at a gallop, looking to right and left to see if there was anyone left. When they had gone, I dragged myself along to peep outside; I saw a peasant coming, and crept back to my place. He entered the barn on the side opposite to us; we had just time to cover ourselves with straw. Very luckily for us, he did not see us, and shut the two doors. We were now alone.
'It might have been six o'clock. We rested for another hour, and then I rose to open the door; but I couldn't manage it, so I had to return to my first project, that of getting out by removing the two boards. This I did. I told my brother to wait for me, and got out.
'I went as far as the entrance to the village. At the first house I saw a light coming through a window, and, peeping in, there were three great Cossack rascals counting money at a table, a peasant holding a light for them.
'I was just going back to rejoin my brother in the barn,when I saw one of them make a movement towards the door, open it, and come out. Luckily for me, a sledge laden with wood was near, so I lay flat on my stomach in the snow behind it.
'The Cossack then re-entered the house and closed the door. Instantly I rose to fly, but, afraid of being seen, instead of crossing in front of the window, I took a turn to the right. I hadn't gone ten steps, when a door opened, and to escape notice I crept into a stable, and hid myself under the trough from which the horses were eating. I had hardly done so, when a peasant entered with a lantern, followed by a Cossack. I thought it was all over with me.
'The Cossack was carrying a portmanteau; he fastened it upon his horse and went out, closing the door.
'I was just going myself, when I thought of taking a horse with me. As quickly as possible, I seized the one with the portmanteau, but, in turning his head round to get him out of the stable, something fell on my shoulder; it was the Cossack's lance, propped up against his horse. I took it away with me for defence, and went out. I reached the barn, helped my brother to mount, and, taking the bridle in my hand, proceeded in the direction of the road.
'When we had gone a couple of hundred steps, I looked round to see if anything was coming. I handed my brother the Cossack's lance, and covered him with the great camel's-hair cape that I found on the horse. After half an hour's walking, we reached the road; then, turning in the direction of Gumbinnen, we saw some peasants busy removing the wheels of a deserted waggon. To avoid passing near them, we took a road to our left, leading to the entrance of a village. We wished we could have avoided the village, so fearful were we of falling again into the enemy's clutches. God only knows what would havehappened to us, for, seeing us with a horse and weapon belonging to one of their people, they would have made sure we had killed the owner.
'We had stopped to consult, when we heard a noise behind us; we thought at once of flight, but there was no chance, for the masses of snow on each side of the road prevented our getting into the ditches. Our situation became critical, and I did not dare tell my fears to my brother on account of his wound.
'We were starting again straight on, when we saw in front of us the cause of our fright—some men only a few steps away from us. They came to a stop, calling to us in German: "Good-evening, friend Cossacks!"
'"Listen," I said to my brother: "you are a Cossack, and I am your prisoner. You can speak a little German, so only keep cool."
'As he had only a dilapidated sergeant's cap upon his head, I exchanged it for mine, which was like a Cossack's. We recognised these people for the peasants we had seen a while before busy round the wheel on the road. There were four of them, dragging two of the wheels behind them with ropes. My brother inquired if there were any fellow-Cossacks in the village. They said, "No."
'"Then," said he, "take me to the burgomaster, for I am cold and hungry, besides being wounded and obliged to look after this French prisoner."
'One of them then told us that they had been waiting for the Cossacks since morning, and that they would have done well to come, for more than thirty Frenchmen had lodged with them the previous night, and they had almost all of them been disarmed as they were leaving.
'On hearing this we wished ourselves at the devil; but just then some more peasants came up, who, seeing me being led by a Cossack, threatened and insulted me. Theywere reproved by an old man, who, I learned afterwards, was a Protestant minister, the curé of the place.
'We were led before the burgomaster, who made my brother exceedingly welcome, telling him that he should be quartered with him, and his horse taken care of; but as for the Frenchman, he would have him sent to the prison.
'"That is to say," he said, "if you do not want to keep him about you as a servant."
'"I would like that," answered my brother, "especially as I am wounded, and this Frenchman is a Surgeon-Major. He will dress my leg."
'"Surgeon-Major!" replied the burgomaster; "that is lucky, for we have here a good fellow in the village who had his arm broken this morning by a Frenchman. The Surgeon-Major will set his arm for him."
'We were taken into a very warm room, where there was a bed intended for the Cossack; but he refused it, and asked for some straw for himself, and some for me, which he had put to one side so as not to awaken suspicion. For brother Cossack they brought bread, lard, sauer-kraut, beer, and gin; potatoes and water for me. The burgomaster showed my brother a quantity of weapons in a corner of the room; they had belonged to the Frenchmen whom the peasants had disarmed that morning. There were pistols, carbines, five or six muskets, as well as cavalry swords and several packets of cartridges.
'While we were at our meal, a peasant with his arm in a sling entered the room, accompanied by a woman; it was the man with the broken arm. He came and sat down near me, so I decided to go in for bravado. I asked for linen bandages, and a little splint of pine-wood. The arm was broken clean between the wrist and the elbow. During the last five years, I had seen so many operationsthat I did not hesitate to set to work. There was no wound to be seen. I signed to a peasant to hold the sick man by the shoulders, and to the wife to hold his hand. Then I set, and pretty well, too, I think, the broken bone, just as I should have set a piece of wood. To begin with, I felt my way a little, while the devil of a fellow shouted and made villainous faces. Then I applied compresses, sprinkled with schnapps; afterwards four splints that I bound up with linen bandages. The man felt better, and told me I was a good fellow. His wife and the burgomaster complimented me, and I was able to breathe. They gave me a large glass of gin to reward me.
'But this was not all. The burgomaster gave me to understand I must go and see a woman who for the last few days had been suffering horribly; it was a case of a young woman in labour. They had been to Kowno for an accoucheur, but all was in such disorder because of the Russians and French that one could not be found.
'"As a general thing," he said, "it is a service the old women render, but it seems this is a complicated case."
'I tried to make the burgomaster understand that, having lost my surgical instruments, I could undertake no operation; that, moreover, I was no accoucheur—I understood nothing about it. But I couldn't make myself understood; they thought it was simply ill-will on my part. I was obliged to go. Conducted by two peasants and three women, I was led to the end of the village. I do not know if it was my having left such a warm room, but I was as cold as death. Finally we reached the place.
'I was taken into a room where I found three old women, just like the three Fates; they were round a young woman lying on a bed, who was shrieking every now and again a great deal louder than the man with the broken arm. One of the old women took me up to thesick woman, and a second lifted the coverlet. Imagine my embarrassment! Saying nothing, I looked at the three old crones, to gather from their looks what they wanted me to do. But they were waiting likewise, looking at me to see what I intended. The sick woman, too, had her eyes fixed upon me. Finally, I understood one of the old women to say I must find out whether the child still lived. I made up my mind, and placed my great paw, as cold as ice, on the patient. The touch made her leap up and utter a scream enough to make the house shake. This cry was followed by a second; the three old cronies seized her, and in less than five minutes all was over—a Prussian subject was born.
'Then, proud of my fresh cure, I rubbed my hands; and as I knew what was usual in my village under similar circumstances, the infant being bathed in warm water and wine, I ordered some to be brought in a basin. Afterwards I asked for some schnapps. They gave me a bottleful of it. I tasted it several times; then, taking a piece of linen which I wetted in the warm water, I sprinkled the schnapps upon it, and applied the compress to the patient, who was feeling extremely comfortable, and who thanked me, pressing my hand.
'I left, escorted by the two men who had brought me, and by two of the old duennas. I was reconducted before the burgomaster, and praised up to the skies. My Cossack brother had been in a fearful fright, but was delighted to see me again.
'I had still one wounded man to patch up, and that was himself. I bathed the wound with warm water, and dressed it with a little more knowledge of what I was about. We were left alone. When I was certain that everyone was asleep, I picked out two pairs of pistols, as well as a beautiful infantry sword, and two lots of cartridgesof the right size for our pistols. We took the precaution to load these at once. Mine were hidden while awaiting the time of our departure, and then we rested.
'In the morning they brought us something to eat. This time I was treated to the same food as the Cossack. While we were breakfasting, the burgomaster complimented me on my skill, asked me if I would like to remain with them, and said that he would give me one of his daughters in marriage. I told him that that could not be, as I was already married and had children. Then, turning to the Cossack, he asked him in what direction he was going. "I am going to rejoin my brother and my comrades, who are following the road to the town; I do not remember its name, but it is the first I should come to along the road." "I know," said the burgomaster, "you mean Wilbalen. Well, we will go together. I will guide you to a place about a league from here, where you will find more than 200 Cossacks; for I have just received orders to send there everything in the way of hay and flour, and to follow afterwards myself. We will set out in half an hour. I will get your horse ready with my own."
'Hardly had he gone from the room, when I thrust my pistols into my belt, and about thirty cartridges into my pockets. My Cossack brother fastened on the sword I had chosen for him, and also put a pair of pistols in his belt. A moment afterwards they came to tell us that all was ready for our departure. I took the Cossack's portmanteau, and we went out.
illus
BESIDE THE ROAD, NOT FAR FROM PNÉWA, NOVEMBER 8, 1812.From a sketch made at the time by an officer of Napoleon's army. The Emperor stands in front of the fire, which is made of broken wheels and bits of gun-carriages.
'We found the burgomaster at the posting-station in travelling dress. He wore a long coat lined with fine sheepskin, a fur cap, and boots of the same. His servant wore a sheepskin coat. I helped my brother the Cossack to mount; and, as I was fastening on the portmanteau, Isaid softly, so as not to be heard, that, should the opportunity offer, he must seize the burgomaster's horse and coat, and that of his servant as well, so that by means of these disguises we might escape; and that, in our present position, we must act promptly, as it meant life or death.
'We set off on our march, the servant in front as guide, I next and between the two on horseback, as a prisoner would. A little before the end of the village we took a road to the left, and after a quarter of an hour's walking we reached a little pine-wood. While crossing it, I thought of putting my project into execution. After we had crossed the wood, I looked in front of me and to right and left, looking out for anything likely to harm us. Seeing nothing, I strode to the burgomaster's side, and seizing the horse's bridle with one hand, and presenting a pistol with the other, I ordered him to dismount. As you may imagine, he was terribly taken aback; he looked at the Cossack as if to tell him to run me through the body. Meanwhile the servant, with a great stick, rushed to knock me down; but, without letting go of the horse's bridle, I struck him such a violent blow across the chest with the butt-end of the pistol that I sent him sprawling yards off, and threatened to kill him if he made the slightest movement towards getting up.
'While this was happening, my brother told the burgomaster that he had better dismount; but he was so stupefied that the order had to be repeated several times. Finally he dismounted, and I gave his animal to my brother to hold.
'Immediately I took off the servant's boots, coat, and cap. Then, taking off my own cloak and coat and my cap, I threw them down on him, forcing him to put on the coat, so that in his turn he looked like the prisoner.
'Imagine the burgomaster's face at seeing his servantdressed up in such a fashion! But that was not all. Telling my brother, who had dismounted, to keep an eye on the servant, I effected a change of costume in his master, who, at my invitation and without much trouble, gave me his overcoat, boots, and cap. I gave him in exchange my coat and his servant's cap. Then I made my brother put on the servant's coat and boots, and when he was completely attired and remounted, and in a position to mount guard over our two prisoners, I dressed myself in my turn in the burgomaster's clothes. Mounting his horse, I took possession of his sword, and we set off at a gallop, leaving our two Prussians thunderstruck, and probably not knowing whether my brother was really a Cossack or not. We did not feel comfortable, either, for, although disguised, we were afraid of falling into the clutches of the Cossacks of whom the burgomaster had spoken before our setting out.
'After advancing at a gallop for about ten minutes we reached a little village, where the inhabitants, on seeing us, began shouting out: "Hurrah! hurrah! Our friends the Cossacks! Hurrah!"
'They told us that our comrades had slept at a large village a quarter of a league away, and that they had left to cut off the French in their retreat before they should have reached the wood which intersected the route. They wanted to make us dismount and drink, but as we were not easy in our minds, we were satisfied with some glasses of schnapps without dismounting. Then my brother shouted "Hurrah!" and we decamped, carrying off the bottle of schnapps, and accompanied by the hurrahs of the whole population.
'It might have been about three o'clock when we saw the wood in front of us and heard firing. A fight was going on between the French and the Russian cavalrynear a house on the borders of the road. So the peasants had not lied to us: the Cossacks had really intended to cut off the retreat of the column of stragglers before they could reach the wood.
'On seeing this we set our horses to a gallop, and, without thinking of our resemblance to the Cossacks, we stationed ourselves along the road, in order to try and gain the entrance of the wood towards which the stragglers were rushing. They took us for Cossacks, and ran faster. The Cossacks, on their side, taking us for some of themselves, and thinking we were pursuing the French, came a dozen strong to support us and follow us into the wood. I had a Cossack to my right, my brother to my left; behind me, the remaining Cossacks. Anyone would have thought I was their chief.
'The road was hardly wide enough to allow three horses to go abreast. After having trotted forward about fifty yards, we saw several of our officers barring the way with crossed bayonets, and shouting to those in flight, "Don't mind these dogs! let them come on!"
'I seized the opportunity, and, slackening my horse's pace, I slashed at the face of the Cossack to my right with my sword.'[67]He took another step and stopped, turning his head in my direction; but, seeing that I was preparing to go on, he turned and escaped, bellowing. Those who were following did the same, and our horses imitated the movement, so that there we were, going in our turn after the Cossacks, who ran as if all the devils were after them.
'I caught sight of a road to the right, with a Cossack in front of us. Seeing us, he slackened speed, stopped,and spoke to us in a language we did not understand. I hit him a violent blow on the head with my sabre, which I believe would have severed it had it not been for the bearskin cap he wore. Astonished at this manner of reply, he made his escape, and being the better horseman, was soon out of sight. A quarter of an hour later we had reached the other side of the wood. There was the Cossack again, who, seeing us, set off at a gallop, and we had no desire to follow him. We skirted the wood to its extremity. Afterwards we manœuvred about till evening to find the right road, and we got here with much difficulty.
'Now,' concluded the sergeant, 'we must rest a little, and set off, for at daybreak we may have to be off again.'
On this we each of us settled down to take a little rest, while six men of the Kowno garrison, soldiers in good condition, voluntarily offered to take a turn at watching at the door of the barn.
We had not been resting an hour, when we heard a shout, 'Who goes there?' Directly afterwards a man came in and fell down full length. Some of the men rose to help him. He was a gunner in the Imperial Guard, who had been found at the bivouac I had missed. He had more than twenty wounds on his body, lance-thrusts and sword-cuts. They asked for linen to bandage him with. I hastened to give one of my best shirts. The sergeant, one of the two brothers, made him swallow some drops of gin; the old Chasseur gave some lint that he drew out of the depths of his bearskin. The wounded man was made more comfortable, and settled as well as could be. Happily, his wounds were mainly on the back and head; a few on the right arm, but his legs were sound.
I went up to ask him how he was. Almost before looking at me, he exclaimed: 'It is you, sergeant! You were wise not to stay at the house by the wood where you had made up your mind to pass the night, for a quarter of an hour after your departure more than 400 Cossacks came up.[68]We took up arms to defend ourselves, being then about 400 men. Seeing that we were ready to give them a reception, they halted; a detachment was formed, with an officer at their head, who advanced, telling us in good French to surrender.
'But a Chasseur of the Guard, named Michaut—the oldcantinière'sfriend—left the ranks, and advancing so as to be heard by the Russian officer: "Tell me, youlapin, how long have Frenchmen surrendered with arms in their hands? Come on, we are waiting for you!" The officer instantly retired. They prepared to charge; we waited for them, and when they were about five-and-twenty yards off half our men fired. Some of them fell. Then, thinking that we all had discharged our weapons, and that we should not be able to reload, they advanced again, shouting and hurrahing. But they were met by another volley, that put the greater number of their menhors de combat. At this they took to flight, and we thought we were rid of them; but five minutes later they returned in greater numbers, and just at the moment when we were retreating to the wood, not having had again time to reload, we were overcome by the blows of lance and sword. Almost all were killed or wounded.
'I remained on the ground, wounded, and pretending to be dead; and, finding myself on the edge of a ditch bordering the road, I rolled into it. The peasants cameup, and set to work to despoil the dead and wounded, accompanied by some Cossacks whose horses had been killed. I was lucky enough to escape notice, and when they had withdrawn, raising myself with difficulty, I gained the wood and crossed it. And, finally, my friends, I am so lucky as to have met you. But what is to become of me?'
'We will lead you,' replied the soldiers of the garrison. 'And I,' said the sergeant brother, 'will lend you my horse.'
In spite of the sleep which overwhelmed me, I began to think of setting off, for, not being strong, I took a great deal of time to go a very little way. A young soldier offered to accompany me, if I wanted to set out at once; I accepted his offer, especially as this young man, who had suffered nothing, was strong and would be able to help me. And so we took our departure.
We entered a wood, through which the road lay. Here the soldier, who was unarmed, wished to carry my gun; I gave it up to him, as, in my feeble condition, he was better able to make use of it than I. After walking I do not know how long, supported by my young companion's arm (for I often dozed while marching), we reached the extremity of the wood; it might have been about four o'clock in the morning, December 16th.
We walked on, haphazard, for about another half-hour; very luckily, the moon rose. But with it came a high wind and so fine a snow that it cut our faces and prevented our seeing before us.