THE RETREAT GOES ON--I TAKE A WIFE--DISCOURAGEMENT--I LOSE SIGHT OF
MY COMRADES--DRAMATIC SCENE--MEETING WITH PICARD.
On November 18, the day after the Battle of Krasnoë, we set out very
early from our bivouac. The march was a sad and weary one, and terribly
tiring. There was a thaw; our feet were wet through; and all day the
fog was so thick we could see nothing. Our men were still in some
sort of order, but the fighting of the preceding days and the forced
abandonment of their imploring comrades had demoralized them; the same
fate, no doubt, they thought was in store for them.
I was terribly tired that day. One of the men in our company named
Labbé, seeing that I could scarcely walk, offered to carry my knapsack
for me, as he had lost his own the day before. I gave it to him, as I
knew he was honest; but it was like trusting my life in his hands, as
the knapsack contained more than a pound of rice and oatmeal, picked
up by chance at Smolensk, and kept by me for some desperate emergency,
when there would be no more horses to eat. On that day the Emperor went
on foot, carrying a stick.
At night it froze again, and the roads became so slippery that we
fell down continually, and many were seriously hurt. I walked last
of the company, keeping an eye, as far as possible, on the man with
my knapsack, and sometimes regretting that I had given it up, and
resolving to get it back when we stopped for the night. When night
came, it was so dark that it was impossible to see anything. I called
out 'Labbé! Labbé!' and I heard him answer, 'Here, sergeant!' but when
I called again later, one of our men told me that he had just fallen
down, and was probably following the regiment. I did not worry myself
about it, as in a short time we should be obliged to come to a halt,
and take up a position for the night. When we did so, the whole army
was collected, except Marshal Ney's _corps d'armée_, which had dropped
behind, and which we feared was lost.
Everyone did as best he could during this wretched night. Several of
us non-commissioned officers joined together, and took possession of
a barn (we were close to a village without being aware of it). Many
of the men had entered with us, but those who came too late for that
mounted on the roof. Just then we were told that further on there was
a church (Greek) intended for our regiment's shelter, but that now it
was filled with men from different regiments, who would let no one else
enter.
On learning exactly where the church was, a dozen of us set out to find
it. When we arrived, the men inside tried to prevent our entering. They
were Germans, Italians, and a few Frenchmen, who tried to frighten us
by presenting the points of their bayonets at us. We answered them in
the same fashion, and forced an entrance. They drew back a little, and
an Italian called out:
'Do as I do--load!'
'Ours are loaded--ready!' said one of our sergeant-majors, and we were
on the point of a fierce encounter, when reinforcements arrived for us
in the shape of some men from our regiment; so seeing they had nothing
to gain by fighting, and that we were not disposed to let them stay
with us, the men in the church decided to leave.
Unfortunately for them, the night grew much colder, with a high wind
and a fall of snow, and the next morning on going out we found many
of the poor wretches dead by the side of the road. Others had dropped
down further on, while trying to find a place of shelter. We passed by
these dead bodies in silence. We ought, no doubt, to have felt guilty
and miserable at this sad spectacle, of which we were partly the cause;
but we had arrived at the point of complete indifference to everything,
even the most tragic events, saying to each other that soon we should
be eating dead men, as there would be no more horses left.
An hour afterwards we got to Doubrowna, a little town partly inhabited
by Jews, where all the houses were built of wood. Here the Emperor had
passed the night with the Grenadiers and Chasseurs, and part of the
artillery. They had been kept under arms all night by a false alarm. We
crossed this town on our way to Orcha. After an hour's march, we had
to pass over a deep ravine, which the baggage had enormous difficulty
in crossing, and several horses died. At last, during the afternoon,
we arrived at this little fortified town, garrisoned by men from
different regiments. These were men who had stayed behind, and had come
up in detachments to rejoin the Grand Army. There were amongst them
some gendarmes and a few Poles. They were horror-struck at seeing our
miserable condition, and at the enormous number of stragglers in such
disorganization. Part of the Guard were kept in the town to establish
a little order, and a small distribution of flour and brandy was made
from some stores found there. We found a pontoon train, and a great
deal of artillery, horses and harness; and by an extraordinary fatality
we burned the boats forming the bridges, in order to make use of the
horses to draw the guns. We little knew what was in store for us at the
Bérézina, where the bridge would have been of untold service to us.
We were now only seven or eight thousand men in the Guard, the remnant
of 35,000. Although most of us marched in order, a good many straggled
painfully behind. As I have already said, the Emperor and part of the
Guard stayed in the town, and the rest of the army camped outside.
During the night Marshal Ney arrived with the remainder of his _corps
d'armée_.
Two or three thousand remained to him out of 7,000. The Emperor's joy
was unbounded when he heard that the Marshal was safe.
We stayed here over the 20th, and I spent the time looking for my
friend with my knapsack, but in vain. On the 21st we set out without my
having found him, and I began to despair, although I heard from many
that he had been seen.
At a short distance from Orcha we heard musket-shots, and stopping for
a moment, we saw some sledges intercepted by Cossacks. These men joined
our ranks and we went forward again. I searched for my man and the
knapsack among the sledges, but again fruitlessly. We stayed that night
in a village called Kokanow, of which nothing remained but a barn and
two or three houses.
On the 22nd, after a wretched night, we set out very early, walking
with great difficulty over a thawed, muddy road. At mid-day we reached
Toloczin, where the Emperor had slept. We halted at the other side of
the town, and drew up by the side of the road. While we were there M.
Césarisse, an officer in our company, told me that he had seen Labbé
near a fire busy frying biscuits, and that he had ordered him to join
his regiment. He answered that he was coming directly, but a horde of
Cossacks came and took possession of the sledges, and most probably he
had been taken also. So good-bye to my knapsack and its contents, which
I had so set my heart on taking back to France! How proud I should have
been to say, 'I brought this from Moscow!'
However, to make quite sure, I thought I would see for myself, and
I turned back to the end of the village, which was full of men from
all regiments, walking about independently and obeying no orders but
their own. I saw the Cossacks in the distance carrying off their
prisoners--and no doubt my poor knapsack also.
I was looking about me to right and left, when I caught sight of a
woman, dressed in a soldier's cloak, looking curiously at me, and I
could not help thinking I had seen her before. She recognised me by
my bearskin, and being the first to speak, she said she had seen me
at Smolensk. I remembered her as the woman in the cellar. She told me
that the brigands had been taken at Krasnoë, before we got there; that
they were in a house where they had beaten her, because she would not
wash their shirts, and she had gone out to get water. She had seen
some Russians and had run away. As for the brigands, they had fought
desperately, trying to save their money, for they had much, she said,
gold and jewels above all; but it had ended by their being killed,
wounded, and plundered. She herself had been saved when the Imperial
Guard arrived.
She would have told me much more if I had had time to listen to her.
I asked her who was with her, and she said no one; that since the day
her husband was killed she had been with the brigands; that she was now
alone, but that, if I would take her under my protection, she would
take good care of me, and I should be doing her a very great service.
I consented at once, never thinking of the figure I should cut in the
regiment when I arrived there with a woman.
As she went she asked me what had become of my knapsack. So I told her
its history, and how I had lost it. She told me not to worry about it,
as she had a well-filled bag herself. She also carried a basket on her
arm, and she added that if I could find a house or a stable to change
in, she could give me some fresh linen. I accepted this joyfully, but
as we were looking for a suitable place we heard the call to arms, and
I heard the drums beating. I told the woman to follow me, and wait for
me on the road.
When I joined my company, the sergeant-major asked me if I had found
Labbé and the knapsack. I said no, and that I had given up all idea of
finding them, but that instead I had found a woman.
'A woman!' he exclaimed; 'what is the good of that? She can't wash your
linen for you, as you have not got any.'
'She will give me some.'
'Ah,' he said, 'that's a different thing. And what about feeding her?'
'She will do as I do.'
Just then the Emperor came past with King Murat and Prince Eugène. The
Emperor then placed himself amongst the Grenadiers and Chasseurs and
made them an address, telling them that the Russians were waiting for
us at the crossing of the Bérézina, and had sworn that not one of us
should pass over. Then, drawing his sword and raising his voice, he
cried:
'Let us all swear to die fighting rather than not see our country
again!'
The oath was taken. Bearskins and caps were waved at the points of
bayonets, and shouts were heard of 'Vive l'Empereur!' Marshal Mortier
made us a similar address, and was received with the same enthusiasm,
and so on with all the regiments.
It was a splendid moment, and for the time made us forget our miseries.
If the Russians had only been within our reach then, we should have
made short work of them, even had their numbers been six times greater
than ours. We remained in this position till the right wing of the
column began to move.
I had not forgotten my 'wife,' and while waiting for the regiment to
start I went in search of her, but she was nowhere to be seen. She had
been engulfed in the torrent of Prince Eugène's thousands. They and the
corps belonging to Marshals Ney and Davoust were in complete disorder;
three-quarters of them were sick and wounded, and the rest utterly
demoralized and indifferent to everything.
I found myself at this moment near Marshal Lefebvre. He was alone and
on foot in the middle of the road, shouting in his German accent,
'Come, my men, let us get together! Better large battalions than a pack
of brigands and cowards.' He spoke to the men who were continually
straggling away without apparent reason from their corps, sometimes in
front, sometimes behind.
I made several inquiries about my 'wife,' as I so badly wanted the
change of linen she had promised me, but I never saw her again, and so
I found myself bereft both of her and of my knapsack.
Walking thus with the rabble, I had got far in advance of my regiment,
and I stopped to rest by a fire left from a bivouac.
Up to the Battle of Krasnoë, I had managed to keep up my spirits, in
spite of all the miseries I had to endure. I felt that the greater
the danger and suffering, the greater the glory and honour, and my
patience had astonished my comrades. But since the terrible encounters
at Krasnoë, and, above all, since the news that two of my friends
(besides Béloque and Capon) had been, one killed and the other mortally
wounded--(_sic_).
To complete my misery, a sledge came up and stopped close to me. I
asked who the wounded man was, and they told me it was an officer of
their regiment. It turned out to be poor Legrand, who related to me the
way he had been wounded. His comrade, Laporte, from Cassel, near Lille,
had stayed behind invalided at Krasnoë; but hearing that his regiment
was fighting, he set out to join it. Hardly, however, had he taken his
place in the ranks, when he had both his legs broken. Legrand, seeing
Laporte arrive, came to speak to him, and the same shot wounded him in
the right leg. Laporte remained dead on the battlefield, and Legrand
was taken to the town; he was placed in a wretched Russian cart drawn
by a miserable horse, but the cart broke up the first day. Fortunately
for him, close by was a sledge, into which he was moved; four men of
his regiment were with him, and he had travelled in this manner for six
days. I bade farewell to the unfortunate Legrand, and wished him a safe
journey; he answered that he trusted himself to the care of God and the
friendship of his brave comrades. One of the men then took the horse by
the bridle, another gave it a blow, and two pushed from behind; with
great difficulty the sledge was thus set in motion. As I saw it off, I
thought with such equipment it could hardly go much further.
After this I never felt the same; I was depressed, and a prey to gloomy
forebodings. My head ached and burned; I was in a fever. No doubt it
was greatly owing to fatigue, as we were now obliged to start very
early in the morning, and walk till very late. The days were so short;
it was not light till eight o'clock, and it was dark by four in the
afternoon. This was the reason of so many unfortunate men losing their
way, for it was always night when we arrived at the bivouac, and all
the remains of the different corps were in terrible confusion. At all
hours of the night we heard the weak, worn-out voices of new arrivals
calling out 'Fourth Corps!' 'First Corps!' 'Third Corps!' 'Imperial
Guard!' and then the voices of others lying down with no strength left,
forcing themselves to answer, 'Here, comrades!' They were not trying
any longer to find their regiments, but simply the _corps d'armée_ to
which they had belonged, and which now included the strength of two
regiments at most, where a fortnight earlier there had been thirty.
No one now knew anything about himself, or could mention which regiment
he belonged to. Many, after walking the whole day, were forced to
wander about half the night to find their particular corps. They hardly
ever succeeded; then, not being aware of the hour of departure in the
morning, they slept too late, and on waking found the Russians upon
them. Thousands of men were taken prisoners, and perished in this way.
I kept near the fire, standing and trembling all over, and leaning
on my musket. Three men were sitting round the fire in silence,
mechanically watching people passing in the road, seeming disposed to
stay where they were, simply for want of strength to move. I began to
be uneasy at not seeing my regiment pass, when I felt someone pull at
my bearskin cloak. It was Grangier come to tell me that the regiment
was passing; but my eyes were so worn out that I could not see him,
even looking straight at him.
[Illustration: ON THE HIGH ROAD FROM MOJAISKA TO KRYMSKOÏE, SEPTEMBER
18, 1812.
_From a sketch made at the time by an officer of Napoleon's army._]
'And the woman?' he said.
'Who told you anything about her?'
'The sergeant-major. But where is she?'
'I don't know; but I do know that she has a knapsack full of linen,
which I want badly, and if ever you meet her you might tell me. She is
dressed in a soldier's gray cloak, with a sheepskin cap on her head.
She wears black gaiters, and she carries a basket on her arm.'
Grangier thought (as he afterwards told me) that I was light-headed,
and, taking me by the arm, he led me down the road, saying:
'We must get on, or we shall not catch up with the regiment.'
We came up with it, however, after passing the thousands of men from
all kinds of regiments who walked confusedly, hardly able to drag
themselves along. We foresaw, on looking at them, that the journey, if
long, would be a fatal one to most of us.
The march was indeed a long one; we passed a place where the Emperor
was supposed to sleep, although he had got far in advance of it. A
great number of men stopped here, for it was very late, and we heard
that two leagues separated us yet from our bivouac in a large forest.
The road here was very wide, and bordered on each side by
birch-trees.[32] There was plenty of room for us and the carts and
waggons; but when evening came on there was nothing to be seen all the
length of the road but dead horses, and the further we advanced, the
more the road became blocked with carts and dying horses: whole teams
succumbed at once from fatigue. The men who could go no further stopped
and made bivouacs underneath large trees; here they said they had wood
at hand to make fires from the broken carts, and horseflesh to eat,
and these they would not find further on.
For a long time I had walked alone in the midst of a miscellaneous
rabble, forcing myself on to reach the camping-place arranged. The road
became more difficult at every step, as it had begun to freeze again on
the top of the half melted snow, and I fell continually. In the midst
of these miseries the night suddenly fell.
The north wind had redoubled its fury. I had lost sight of my comrades;
several men, lost like myself, strangers to me, who did not belong to
my regiment, by superhuman efforts dragged themselves along to come up
with their own regiments. They did not answer when I spoke to them;
they were too weak even for that. Others fell down dying, never to rise
again. Soon I was alone, with only dead bodies along the road to guide
me. The trees had quite disappeared; it was perhaps seven o'clock. The
snow, now falling heavily, prevented my seeing the direction in which I
was going, and the violent wind had already filled up the traces of the
advancing column.
Up till that time I had worn my bearskin cloak with the fur outside,
but now, seeing what an awful night was in store for me, I stopped a
moment, and turned the fur inside. Owing to this I was able luckily
to withstand the cold of this disastrous night, falling to twenty-two
degrees of frost. I arranged the cloak over my right shoulder in the
direction of the wind, and I walked thus for an hour, during which I
am certain I only went a quarter of a league; for, often seized by a
blinding storm of snow, I had to turn round and thus retrace my steps
without being aware of it. It was only the sight of the dead bodies of
men and horses, and the mass of broken vehicles I had passed before,
that convinced me I was in the wrong direction. I had then to take my
bearings again.
Either the moon or a faint Northern Light appeared in the sky at
intervals. Black clouds shot swiftly across this light, but when it
was clear it enabled me to distinguish one object from another. I saw
far off a black mass which I imagined to be the immense forest we had
to cross before reaching the Bérézina, for now we were in Lithuania. I
made a guess that this forest was perhaps a league off.
Unfortunately a terrible sleepiness, the certain forerunner of death,
began to come over me. I felt quite exhausted; my legs refused to carry
me further. I had fallen down half asleep several times, and had I not
been roused each time by the cold, all would have been over with me.
The road was here completely blockaded by dead men and horses,
preventing me from dragging myself along, for I had no longer the
strength to lift my feet from the ground. Whenever I fell it seemed
as if I were dragged down by the unfortunate men stretched on the
snow. Often these men would try to catch hold of the legs of those who
passed, imploring their help, and many, in stooping to give help, fell
themselves, not to rise again.
I walked on aimlessly for about ten minutes. I staggered as if I were
drunk; my knees trembled under my weight. I thought my last hour had
come at last, when all at once I stumbled over a sword on the ground,
and fell all my length, stupefied, my chin having struck the butt-end
of my musket. Coming to myself a little and getting on my knees, I
picked up my musket, and was preparing to stand, when I saw a stream of
blood coming from my mouth, and with a cry of despair, trembling with
terror, I fell back again.
I had been heard by a miserable man lying a few yards off, and in a
feeble voice he begged me to help him--I! so much in need myself.
'Stop! help us!'
The voice ceased; but I remained, still trying to find out who had
spoken. Hearing nothing more, I began to think my senses had deceived
me, and I called out as loud as I possibly could:
'Where are you?' adding to myself, 'If I only had a companion, we could
walk on for the rest of the night encouraging each other.'
Then I heard the voice again, sadder and feebler this time:
'Come here and help.'
At that moment the moon came out, and I saw two men about ten yards
off--one stretched at full length, and the other sitting near him.
With great difficulty I struggled over a ditch filled with snow, and
got near them. The man sitting laughed like a madman when I spoke to
him, and said, 'Don't you know--you mustn't forget!' and began laughing
again.
I recognised the terrible laughter of death. The other man was still
living; turning his head a little, he said these last words to me:
'Save my uncle--help him. I am dying!'
I spoke to him, but he said no more. Then I turned to the other, and
encouraged him to rise and come with me. He looked at me without
speaking, and I saw that he was wrapped in a great fur-lined cloak
which he tried to throw off. I endeavoured, without success, to help
him to rise; but on taking hold of his arm I noticed that he wore
officer's epaulettes. He began talking incoherently about reviews and
parades, and ended by falling on one side with his face in the snow.
I was obliged to leave him; if I had remained I must myself have
succumbed to the same fate. Before I left I picked up a pouch lying on
the ground, in the hope of finding something inside, but it was full
of rubbish and papers only. Having regained the road, I walked slowly
along, listening as I went, as now I constantly seemed to hear cries of
distress.
Soon I began to walk faster, in the hope of coming to some bivouac, and
at last I got to a point in the road completely blocked up with dead
horses and broken carts. The bodies of men from various regiments were
scattered round. Several belonged to the Young Guard, recognisable by
their shakos. In this immense cemetery and this awful silence I was
alone, a prey to the most gloomy thoughts--of my comrades from whom
I was separated, my country, my relations--and I began to cry like a
child. The tears relieved me, and gradually my courage came back.
Close to me I found a small hatchet, such as every company carries in
a campaign. I tried to cut off a piece from one of the horses, but the
flesh was frozen so hard that this was impossible. I had spent the
remainder of my strength, and I fell exhausted, but the exertion had
warmed me a little. I had picked up with the hatchet a few pieces of
ice, which I now found to be blood from the horse. I ate a little of
it, and put the rest carefully in my knapsack; and feeling stronger, I
set out again, trusting to God's mercy; taking care to avoid the dead
bodies, I went on, stopping and feeling my way whenever a cloud passed
over the moon.
After walking for some time, I noticed at a short distance off
something I took for a waggon. When I got nearer I saw it was a canteen
cart belonging to a regiment of the Young Guard. The horses which had
drawn it were not only dead, but partly cut in pieces for eating.
Around the cart were seven dead bodies almost naked and half covered
with snow; one of them was still covered with a cloak and a sheepskin.
On stooping to look at the body, I saw that it was a woman. The
instinct of self-preservation was at this time the first with me, and,
forgetting that I had ineffectually tried the same thing a short time
before, I set to work to hack off a piece of one of the horses. I found
that this time again I was utterly unable to do it, and so I decided
to spend the night in the cart, which was covered. I approached the
dead woman to take the sheepskin for a covering, but it was impossible
to move it. Noticing, however, that she wore a leather strap round her
body, buckled on the other side, and that the strap must be unfastened,
I put my musket under her body to act as a lever; but I had hardly done
so, when a piercing cry came from the cart. 'Marie,' it said, 'Marie,
give me something to drink! I am dying!'
I was stupefied. The same voice repeated directly afterwards, 'Ah, my
God!'
Mounting on the body of the horse in the shafts, I steadied myself
by the top of the cart. I asked what was the matter. A feeble voice
answered with some difficulty, 'Something to drink.'
I thought at once of the frozen blood in the pouch, and tried to get
down to fetch it; but the moon suddenly disappeared behind a great
black cloud, and I as suddenly fell on the top of three dead bodies.
My head was down lower than my legs, and my face resting on one of
the dead hands. I had been accustomed for long enough to this sort of
company, but now--I suppose because I was alone--an awful feeling of
terror came over me. It was like a nightmare. I could not move, and I
began screaming like a madman, as if something were holding me. But, in
spite of all my efforts, I could not move. I tried to help myself up by
my arm, but I found my hand on a face, and my thumb went into its mouth!
At that moment the moon came out and showed me all my dreadful
surroundings. I shuddered all over, left hold of my support, and fell
back again immediately. But a change came over me now; I felt ashamed
of my weakness, and a wild sort of frenzy, instead of terror, took
possession of me. I got up, raving and swearing, and trod on anything
that came near me--faces, arms, and legs, not caring which; and I
cursed the sky above me, defying it, and taking my musket, I struck at
the cart--very likely I struck also at the poor devils under my feet.
When I felt calmer, I decided to spend the night in the cart, as some
sort of shelter from the cold; and taking a piece of the frozen blood
from the pouch, I climbed inside, feeling for the man who had asked me
for drink, and who had ever since uttered feeble cries. When I got near
him, I saw that his left leg was amputated.
I asked him the name of his regiment, but he did not answer. So,
finding his head, I put a bit of the ice into his mouth. The man next
him was as cold and hard as marble. I tried to move him, so as to take
his place, and be able to leave the next day with those who were still
behind, but I could not do it. I now saw that he had only a few moments
to live, so I covered him with two cloaks belonging to the dead man,
and searched in the cart for anything I might find useful. Finding
nothing, I turned round to speak to the man again. I got no reply, and,
passing my hand over his face, I found it quite cold, and the piece of
ice I had given him still between his lips. His sufferings were over.
I now prepared to leave, but waited to take another look at the dead
woman, thinking it might be Marie the _cantinière_, whom I knew well as
coming from my native country. I looked at her carefully by the light
of the moon, and satisfied myself that it was not she.
With my musket under the right arm like a hunter, two pouches, one of
red leather and the other of gray canvas, which I had just found,
slung across me, a piece of the frozen blood in my mouth, and my hands
in my pockets, I started off. It was perhaps nine o'clock; the snow had
stopped falling, the wind had abated in strength, and the cold was not
quite so intense. I continued to walk in the direction of the wood.
At the end of half an hour the moon disappeared again. This was
terrible for me. I stopped for a few minutes, stamping my feet on the
ground, to prevent their being frozen, and waiting for the light to
come out again; but I was disappointed in this, as the moon appeared no
more.
My eyes, however, became accustomed to the dark, and I could soon see
well enough to go on, but all at once I discovered I was not on the
same road. In naturally trying to avoid the north wind, I had turned my
back to it. My opinion was confirmed by my not seeing any of the army
débris on the road.
I cannot say for how long I had been walking in this new direction,
when I saw that I had got to the edge of a precipice. I made the
discovery too late, however, to save myself, and I rolled down for at
least forty feet, although my fall was broken by bushes on the way.
This time I thought that I was quite done for, and, closing my eyes,
I resigned myself to God's will. When I reached the bottom I was
stunned for a time, but, after all my adventures, I had ceased being
astonished at anything, and I soon got up and began to search for my
musket, which I had lost in my fall; however, I decided to leave it and
wait for daylight. As I drew my sword from its sheath and felt my way,
I now became aware of a waggon close to where I had fallen, and the
bodies of two dead horses; and feeling something warm under my feet,
I found I was standing on the ashes of a half-extinct fire. So I lay
down, and bathing my hands in the ashes to warm them, I luckily found
a few pieces of coal, and was able by blowing to revive a few sparks.
But where could I get wood to relight the fire? I dared not leave the
ashes, for fear my sparks might be extinguished for good. I tore off a
piece of my shirt, already in rags, made a match of it and lighted it.
Then, feeling all round me, I fortunately came upon some tiny fragments
of wood, and with much difficulty got them alight. Very soon flames
crackled up, and in a minute or two I had quite a large fire.
I could now see for several yards round me, and I caught sight of
some large letters on the waggon, 'Garde Impériale. État Major.' Over
the inscription was the eagle. As far as I could see, the ground was
covered with helmets, shakos, swords, cuirasses, broken chests, empty
portmanteaus, bits of torn clothing, saddles, costly schabraques, and
quantities of other things. But hardly had I glanced round me, when I
became possessed with the idea that this place might be near a Cossack
bivouac, and I felt terribly frightened, and dared not keep my fire up
any longer. If Frenchmen had been anywhere near, I should have seen
some bivouac fires. This place, above all others, sheltered as it was
from the wind, would have been chosen for a bivouac. I was at a loss
whether to stay or go.
While I reflected my fire had diminished, and I dared not put on more
kindling. But at last the desire for warmth and rest overbore the
feelings of fear. I picked up as much wood as I could find and piled
it up near me. I also collected a number of schabraques to sit on, and
wrapping myself in my bearskin cape, with my back against the waggon, I
arranged myself for the night.
In putting wood on the fire I had found some horseflesh--enough to
stay the hunger which now devoured me. Although covered with snow and
ashes, it was more than I had dared to hope for. Since the evening
before, I had eaten nothing but half a dead raven I had found, and a
few spoonfuls of gruel mixed with grains of oats and rye, and salted
with powder.
I hardly waited for my cutlet to be warmed through before I bit into
it, in spite of the ash which covered it. In this way I made my
miserable dinner, looking round me from time to time, to make sure that
things were safe.
My situation was slightly better than before. I was not obliged to keep
on walking, I was sheltered from the wind and cold, I had a fire for
warmth, and food; but I was so terribly tired that I fell asleep while
I was eating--sleep broken, however, by fear, and by dreadful pains in
my legs. I felt as if I had been beaten all over. I do not know how
long I slept, but on awaking there was still no appearance of daylight.
In Russia the nights now are so long, and in summer there is scarcely
any night at all.
I had fallen asleep with my feet in the ashes, and when I woke they
still felt warm. I had learnt by experience that warmth refreshes tired
limbs, and soothes pain, so I picked up and collected all the wood I
could find, put it on my fire, and relit it.
I could now see round me again, and on my left caught sight of some
object I took for an animal. As there are so many bears in Russia, I
felt sure this must be one, especially as it walked on all fours. When
it got to a distance of five or six yards off, I saw that it was a man.
To guard against a surprise, I drew my sword, and, advancing towards
the man, I cried, 'Who are you?' at the same moment placing the point
of my sword against his back, as I saw him to be a Russian, a real
Cossack with a long beard.
He raised his head and threw himself down like a slave, trying to kiss
my feet, and saying, 'Dobray Frantsouz,'[33] and other words which I
understood to mean that he was frightened. If he had only known it, I
was as much frightened as he. He knelt upright to show me a sword-cut
he had had on his face. I noticed then, even in this position, his head
reached to my shoulders, so that his full height would be over six
feet. I signed to him to come near the fire; then he made me understand
that he had another wound--a ball had struck him in the stomach. The
sword-cut on his face was frightful. It began at the top of the head,
and cut open his face to the chin, losing itself in the beard. He lay
down on his back to show me the bullet wound, and I could see in this
position that he was unarmed. Then, without saying anything more, he
turned on to his side. I sat opposite to him to watch him. I did not
wish to sleep again, as I intended before daylight appeared to set fire
to the waggon and leave at once; but suddenly the terrible thought
struck me that the waggon might be full of powder!
I jumped up, tired as I was, cleared at one bound the fire and the
poor devil lying beside it, and set off running, but stumbling over a
cuirass in the way, I fell all my length on the ground. I was fortunate
enough not to hurt myself; I might well have done so with all the
firearms lying about. I got up and walked backwards, my eyes fixed
on the waggon, as if I expected an explosion every instant. At last
I recovered from my terror, and came back to the place I had left so
foolishly, for I was quite as safe there as twenty yards off.
I took off the pieces of burning wood and carefully carried them to the
place where I had fallen; then I took the cuirass to gather snow in and
put out the fire. But I had hardly begun this work, when I heard a
flourish of trumpets, and after listening attentively, I recognised it
for the Russian cavalry, announcing that they were not far off. I saw
the Cossack raise his head at the sound. I tried to read his thoughts
by his expression, for the fire was now bright enough for me to see
his features, which were truly hideous. He squinted, and his eyes were
deeply set beneath a low, prominent forehead; his hair and beard were
red and thick like a mane, giving him a wild and savage appearance.
His shoulders were of Herculean proportions. He was probably suffering
terribly from his wound, for he writhed as he lay, and from time to
time ground his teeth. I was listening to the sound of the trumpets
in a dazed sort of way, when all at once I heard another noise just
behind me. I turned round, and, to my horror, saw the waggon opening
like a tomb, and coming out of it an enormous individual, white as
snow from head to foot, like the commander's ghost in the 'Festin de
Pierre,' holding up the top of the waggon with one hand, and having a
drawn sword in the other. I looked silently at this spectre, walking a
few steps backward, and drawing my sword while waiting for it to speak
first. It was trying, without success, to unfasten the great white
cloak it wore with the hand which held the sword, as the other was
engaged in holding up the top of the waggon.
At last, breaking the silence, I asked in rather a trembling voice:
'Are you a Frenchman?'
'Yes, of course I am French! What a d----d silly question! There you
stand like a church candle! You see what a fix I am in, and you don't
attempt to help me out of this coffin. I seem to have frightened you,
my good fellow.'
'Yes, you did frighten me; but I thought you might be another of these
beauties'--pointing to the man at the fire.
I helped him out as I spoke, and he threw off his cloak. Imagine my
surprise and delight when I recognised one of my old friends of the
Grenadiers of the Old Guard, a comrade called Picart--Picart by name
and _Picard_ by nation--whom I had not seen since the Emperor's review
at the Kremlin! He and I had made our first campaign together; we had
been at the battles of Jena, Pultusk, Eylau, Tilsit, and later, in
1809, at Mora, on the Spanish frontier, and other campaigns since then,
although not in the same regiment. Picart scarcely knew me again, I
had altered so much and looked so miserable. We gazed at each other in
amazement--I to see him looking so clean and well, and he to find me so
thin, and looking, as he said, like Robinson Crusoe. At last he said:
'Tell me, sergeant, my old friend, by what luck or misfortune do I find
you here, alone and at night, with that villainous Cossack. Just look
at him! See his eyes! He has been here since five o'clock yesterday,
and then he disappeared. I can't think why he has come back. And you?
What brought you here in the middle of the night?'
'Before I tell you, have you a bit of something to eat about you?'
'Yes, sergeant, a little biscuit.'
And he opened his knapsack and drew out a piece of biscuit the size
of his hand, which I devoured at once. I had not tasted bread since
October 27.[34] As I ate I said:
'Picart, have you any brandy?'
'No, _mon pays_!'
'I thought I smelt something like it.'
'You are right,' he said. 'Yesterday, when the waggon was pillaged,
there was a bottle of brandy; but they quarrelled over it, and it was
broken and the brandy spilt.'
I said I should like to see the place where it happened, and when he
showed me I gathered up some snow _à l'eau de vie_, just as before I
had collected horse's blood _à la glace_.
'That's good,' said Picart. 'I never thought of doing that. I think we
can manage to get drunk, as there were several bottles in the waggon.'
The biscuit and brandied snow had done me a great deal of good, so I
related to Picart all that had happened to me since the evening before.
He could scarcely believe me; but when I told him of the misery the
entire army was suffering, including his regiment and all the Imperial
Guard, he was distressed beyond words. The readers of this diary will
be surprised that Picart knew nothing of what had been going on. I will
tell them the reason of this.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 32: Birches in Russia grow to a great height.--_Author's
Note._]
[Footnote 33: 'Bon Français.'--_Author's Note._]
[Footnote 34: Except a little bit given me by Grangier at Smolensk, on
November 12.--_Author's Note._]