"Now the fun begins," cried my captain. "Here goes!"
These were the last words I heard him speak.
A roll of drums sounded in the fort. I saw all the muskets levelled. I
closed my eyes, and heard an appalling uproar, followed by shrieks and
groans. I opened my eyes, surprised to find myself still alive. The fort
was again wrapped in smoke. I was surrounded with wounded and dying. My
captain lay stretched at my feet: his head had been smashed by a ball,
and I was covered with his brains and blood. Out of all my company
there were only six men and myself left standing.
A moment of stupor followed this carnage. The colonel, putting his hat
on the end of his sword, was the first to climb the parapet, shouting
"Vive l'Empereur!" He was soon followed by all the survivors. I cannot
remember clearly what followed. I do not know how we entered the fort.
We fought hand to hand in such a dense smoke that we could not see. I
suppose I hit, for I found my sabre covered with blood. At last I heard
the shout "Victory!" and, the smoke clearing away, I saw the ground of
the fort covered with blood and corpses. The guns especially were buried
under heaps of dead. Scattered about in disorder stood about two hundred
men in French uniform: some were loading their pieces, others wiping
their bayonets. Eleven Russian prisoners were with them.
The colonel was lying covered with blood on a broken ammunition box near
the gorge. Several soldiers crowded round him. I joined them.
"Where is the senior captain?" he asked one of the sergeants.
The sergeant shrugged his shoulders in a significant way.
"And the senior lieutenant?"
"Here is the gentleman who came yesterday," said the sergeant in a
perfectly calm voice.
The colonel smiled bitterly.
"Well, monsieur, you are commander-in-chief," said he to me. "Have the
gorge of the fort fortified at once with these waggons. The enemy is in
force, but General C---- is coming to support you."
"Colonel," I said to him, "you are badly wounded."
"A fig for that, my lad. We have taken the fort!"