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.
[Illustration: 296]
“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.
“We set off at daybreak. It was in June, and a lovely morning too; and
as my prisoner was an officer and a man of honor, I took no escort, but
rode along at his side. We halted at noon to dine in a little grove of
cedars, where I opened my canteen and spread the contents on the grass:
and after regaling ourselves pleasantly, we lighted our meerschaums
and chatted away like old comrades over the war and its chances. A more
agreeable fellow than the Austrian I never met. He told me his whole
history, and I told him mine; and we drank Brüderschaft together, and
swore I don't know how many eternal friendships. The devil was just
amusing himself with us all this time though, as you 'll see presently;
for we soon got into an argument about the charge in which our brigade
captured the guns. He said that if the ammunition had not failed we
never would have dared the attack; and I swore that the discharges were
pouring in while we rode down on the battery.
“We grew warm with the dispute, and drank deeper to cool us; and, what
between the wine and our own passion, we became downright angry, and
went so far as to interchange something not like Brüderschaft.
“'Ah, how unfortunate I always am!' said I, sighing. 'If I had only the
good luck to be the prisoner now, and you the escort--'
“'What then?' said he.
“'How easily, and how pleasantly too, could we settle this little
affair. The ground is smooth as velvet; there is no sun; all still, and
quiet, and peaceful.'
“'No, no,' said the Austrian; 'I couldn't do what you propose,--I should
be dishonored forever if I took such an advantage of you. You must
know, François,' for he called me so, recurring at once to his tone of
kindliness, 'I am the first swordsman of my brigade.'
“I could scarcely avoid throwing myself into his arms as he spoke; never
was there such a piece of fortune. 'And I,' cried I, in ecstasy, 'I the
first of the whole French army!' You know, Comrades, I only said that
_en gascon_, and to afford him the greater pleasure in our _rencontre_.
“We soon measured our swords and threw off our jackets. 'François,' said
he, 'I ought to mention to you that my lunge _en tierce_ is my famous
stroke; I rarely miss running my adversary through the chest with it.'
“'I know the trick well,' said I; 'take care of my “pass” outside the
guard.'
“'Oh! if that's your game,' said he, laughing, 'I'll make short work of
it. Now, to begin.'
“'All ready,' said I; 'en garde!' And we crossed our weapons. For
a German he was a capital swordsman, and had a very pretty trick of
putting in his point over the hilt, and wounding the sword-arm; but if
it had not been for all the wine I drank the affair would have been over
in a second or two. As it was, we both fenced loose, and without any
judgment whatever.
“'Ah! you got that,' said I, 'at last!' as I pierced him in the back,
outside the guard.
“'No, no!' cried he, passionately; for his temper was up, and he would
not confess a touch.
“'Well, then, that's home!' said I, thrusting beneath his hilt, till the
blood spurted out along my blade and even in my eyes.
“'Yes, that's home,' said he, staggering back, while one of his legs
crossed over the other, and he fell heavily on the grass. I stooped down
to feel his heart; and as I did so my senses failed, my limbs tottered,
and I rolled headlong over him. Truth was, I was badly wounded, though I
never knew when; for his sword had entered my chest, beneath a rib, and
cut some large vessels in the lungs.
“The end of it all was, the Austrian was buried, and I was broke the
service without pay or pension, my wound being declared by the doctors
an incapacity to serve in future.
“Comrades, we often hear men talk of the happy day before them when they
shall leave the army and throw off the knapsack, and give up the musket
for the mattock. Well, trust me, it's no such pleasure as they deem it,
after all. There was I, turned loose upon the world, with nothing but a
suit of ragged clothes my comrades made up amongst them, my old rapier,
and a bad asthma. Such was my stock-in-trade, to begin life anew, at the
age of forty-seven. And so, I set out on my weary way back to Paris.”
“Didn't you try your chance with the Petit Caporal first?” asked one of
the listeners.
“To be sure I did. I sent him a long petition, setting forth the whole
circumstance, and detailing every minute particular of the duel; but I
received it back, unopened,--with Duroc's name, and the word 'Rejected,'
on the back.
“It is strange-how unfit we old soldiers are for any occupation in a
civil way, when we 've spent half a lifetime campaigning. When I reached
Paris, I could almost have wedged myself into the scabbard of my
sword. Long marches and short rations had told heavily on me; and the
custom-house officer at the barrier told me to pass on, without ever
stopping to see that I carried no contraband goods about me.
“I had a miserable time enough of it for twelve or fourteen months.
The only way of support I could find was teaching recruits the sword
exercise; and you know they could n't be very liberal in their rewards
for the service. But even this poor trade was soon interdicted, as the
police reported that I encouraged the young soldiers to fight duels,--a
great offence, truly! But you see everything went unluckily with me at
that time.
“What was to become of me now I couldn't tell; when an old comrade,
pensioned off from Moreau's army, had interest to get me appointed
supernumerary, as they call it, in the Grand Opera, where I used to
perform as a Roman soldier, or a friar, or a peasant, or some such
thing, for five francs a week. Not a sou more had I, and the duty was
heavier than on active service.
“After two years, the 'big drum' died of a rheumatic fever, from beating
a great solo in a new German Opera, and I was promoted to his place;
for by this time I was quite recovered from the effects of my wound, and
could use my arms as well as ever.
“Some of the honorable company may remember the first night that
Napoleon visited the Grand Opera after he was named Emperor. It was a
glorious sight, and one can never forget it. The whole house was filled
with generals and field-marshals: it was a grand field-day, by the glare
of ten thousand wax-lights. And the Empress was there, and her whole
suite, and all the prettiest women in France. Little time had I to look
at them, though; for there was I, in the corner of the orchestra, with
my big drum before me, on which I was to play the confounded thing that
killed the other fellow.
“It was a strange performance, sure enough: for in the midst of a great
din and crash, came a dead pause; and then I was to strike three solemn
bangs on the drum,--to be followed by a succession of blows, fast
as lightning, for five minutes. This was the composer's notion of a
battle,--distant firing! Heaven bless his heart! I was wishing he 'd
seen some of it. This was to come on in the second act, up to which time
I had nothing to do.
“Why do I say nothing? I had to gaze at the Petit Caporal, who sat there
in the box over my head, looking as stern and as thoughtful as ever, and
not minding much what the Empress said, though she kept prattling into
his ear all the time, and trying to attract his attention. _Parbleu!_ he
was not thinking of all the nonsense before him,--his mind was on real
battles: he had seen real smoke,--that he had! He was fatter and paler
than he used to be; and I thought, too, his frown was darker than when
I saw him last: but, to be sure, that was at Marengo, and he ever looked
pleased on the field of battle. I could n't take my eyes from him: his
fine thoughtful face, so full of determination and energy, reminded me
of my old days of campaigning. I thought of Areola and Rivoli, of Cairo
and the Pyramids, and the great charge at Marengo when Desaix's division
came up,--and my heart was nigh bursting when I remembered that I wore
the epaulette no longer. I forgot, too, where I was; and expected every
instant to hear him call for one of the marshals, or see him stretch out
his hand to point to a distant part of the field. And so absorbed was I
in my reveries, that I had neither eyes nor ears for anything around
me; when suddenly all the din of the orchestra ceased,--not a sound was
heard; and a hand rudely shook me by the arm, while a voice whispered,
'Now! now!'
[Illustration: 303]
“Mechanically I seized the drumsticks. But my eyes still were riveted
in the Emperor,--my whole heart and soul were centred in him. Again
the voice called to me to begin; and a low murmur of angry meaning ran
through the orchestra.
“I sprang to my legs, and in the excitement of the moment, losing all
memory of time and place, I rolled out the _pas de charge!_
“Scarce had the first _roulade_ of the well-known sounds reverberated
through the house, when one cry of 'Vive l'Empereur!' burst forth. It
was not a cheer; it was the heart-given outbreak of ten thousand devoted
followers. Marshals, generals, colonels, ambassadors, ministers, all
joined; and the vast assembly rocked to and fro like the sea in a
storm, while Napoleon himself, slowly rising, bent his proud head in
acknowledgment, and then sat down again amid the thundering shouts of
acclamation. It was full twenty minutes before the piece could proceed;
and even then momentary outbreaks of enthusiasm would occur to interrupt
it, and continued to burst forth till the curtain fell.
“Just then an aide-de-camp appeared beside the orchestra, and ordered
me to the Emperor's box. _Satristi!_how I trembled! I did n't know what
might come of it.
“'Ah, _coquin!_ said he, as I stood ready to drop with fear at the door
of the box, 'this has been one of thy doings, eh?'
“'Yes, Sire,' muttered I in a half whisper.
“'And how hast thou dared to spoil an opera in this fashion?' said he,
frowning fiercely. 'Answer me, sirrah!'
“'It was your Majesty's fault,' said I, becoming reckless of all
consequences. 'You did n't seem to care much for all their scraping and
blowing, and so I thought the old _roulade_ might raise you a bit. You
used to like it once; and might still, if the times be not altered.'
“'And they are not,' said he, sternly. 'Who art thou, that seem'st to
know me thus well?'
“'Old François, that was maître d'armes of the Fourth in Egypt, and who
saved you from the stroke of a Mameluke sabre at Chebrheis.'
“'What! the fellow who killed an Austrian prisoner after Marengo? Why, I
thought thee dead.'
“'Better for me I had been!' said I. 'You would n't read my petition.
['Yes, you may frown away, General,' said I to Duroc, who kept glowering
at me like a tiger.) I began life at the tambour; I have come down to it
again. You can't bring me lower, _parbleu!_
“The Emperor whispered something to the Empress, who turned round
towards me and laughed; and then he made a sign for me to withdraw.
Before I had got a dozen paces from the box, an aide-de-camp overtook
me.
“'François,' said he, 'you are to appear before the medical commission
to-morrow; and if their report be favorable, you are to have your old
grade of maître d'armes.'
“And so it was. Not only was I restored, but they even placed me in the
same regiment I served in during the campaigns of Egypt and Italy. The
corps, however, was greatly changed since I knew it before; and so
I asked the Emperor to appoint me to a voltigeur battalion, where
discipline is not so rigid, and pleasant comrades are somewhat more
plentiful. I had my wish, gentlemen. And now, with your permission,
we'll drink the 'Faubourg St. Antoine,' the cradle of our arm of the
service.”
In repeating Maître Francois's tale, I could only wish it might have
one half the success with my reader it met with from his comrades of the
bivouac. This, however, I cannot look for, and must leave it and him to
their fortunes, and now turn to follow the course of my own.
François was not the only one who felt surprised at my being able to
resist the pleasures of a voltigeurs life; and my companion the corporal
looked upon my determination to join the hussar brigade as one of those
extraordinary instances of duty predominating over inclination. “Not,”
said he, “but there may be brave fellows and good soldiers among the
dragoons; though having a horse to ride is a sore drawback on a man's
courage. And when one has felt the confidence of standing face to face,
and foot to foot, with the enemy, I cannot see how he can ever bring
himself to fight in any other fashion.”
“A man can accustom himself to anything, Corporal,” said an old,
hardy-looking soldier, who sat smoking with the most profound air of
thoughtful reflection. “I remember being in the 'dromedary brigade' at
Cairo. Few of us could keep our seats at first; and when we fell off,
it was often hard enough to resist the Mamelukes and hold the beasts
besides; but even that we learned with time.”
This explanation, little flattering as it was to the cavalry, seemed to
convince the listeners that time, which smoothes so many difficulties,
will even make a man content to be a dragoon.
“Well, since you will not be 'of ours,'” said François, “let us drink a
parting cup, and say good-by, for I hear the bugle sounding the call.”
“A health to the 'Faubourg St. Antoine,' boys!” cried I, and a hearty
cheer re-echoed the toast; and with many a shake-hands, and many a
promise of welcome whenever I saw the error of my ways sufficiently to
doff the dolman for the voltigeur's jacket, I took leave of the gallant
Twenty-second, and set out towards Weimar.