"Front rank, kneel! Fix bayonets! Ready!" cried the general.
As Zebede knelt, I was now, so to speak, in the front rank. On came
the line of horses, each rider bending over his saddle-bow, with sabre
flashing in his hand. Then again the general's voice was heard behind
us, calm, tranquil, giving orders as coolly as on parade:
"Attention for the command of fire! Aim! Fire!"
The four squares fired together; it seemed as if the skies were falling
in the crash. When the smoke lifted, we saw the Russians broken and
flying; but our artillery opened, and the cannon-balls sped faster than
they.
"Charge!" shouted the general.
Never in my life did such a wild joy possess me. On every side the cry
of _Vive l'Empereur!_ shook the air, and in my excitement I shouted
like the others. But we could not pursue them far, and soon we were
again moving calmly on. We thought the fight was ended; but when
within two or three hundred paces of the ravine, we heard the rush of
horses, and again the general cried:
"Halt! Kneel! Fix bayonets!"
On came the Russians from the valley like a whirlwind; the earth shook
beneath their weight; we heard no more orders, but each man knew that
he must fire into the mass, and the file-firing began, rattling like
the drums in a grand review. Those who have not seen a battle can form
but little idea of the excitement, the confusion, and yet the order of
such a moment. A few of the Russians neared us; we saw their forms
appear a moment through the smoke, and then saw them no more. In a few
moments more the ringing voice of General Chemineau arose, sounding
above the crash and rattle:
"Cease firing!"
We scarcely dared obey. Each one hastened to deliver a final shot;
then the smoke slowly lifted, and we saw a mass of cavalry ascending
the farther side of the ravine.
The squares deployed at once into columns; the drums beat the charge;
our artillery still continued its fire; we rushed on, shouting:
"Forward! forward! _Vive l'Empereur!_"
We descended the ravine, over heaps of horses and Russians; some dead,
some writhing upon the earth, and we ascended the slope toward
Weissenfels at a quick step. The Cossacks and chasseurs bent forward
in their saddles, their cartridge-boxes dangling behind them, galloping
before us in full flight. The battle was won.
But as we reached the gardens of the city, they posted their cannon,
which they had brought off with them, behind a sort of orchard, and
reopened upon us, a ball carrying away both the axe and head of the
sapper, Merlin. The corporal of sappers, Thome, had his arm fractured
by a piece of the axe, and they were compelled to amputate his arm at
Weissenfels. Then we started toward them on a run, for the sooner we
reached them the less time they would have for firing.
We entered the city at three places, marching through hedges, gardens,
hop-fields, and climbing over walls. The marshals and generals
followed after. Our regiment entered by an avenue bordered with
poplars, which ran along the cemetery, and, as we debouched in the
public square another column came through the main street.
There we halted, and the Marshal, without losing a moment, despatched
the Twenty-seventh to take a bridge and cut off the enemy's retreat.
During this time the rest of the division arrived, and was drawn up in
the square. The burgomaster and councillors of Weissenfels were
already on the steps of the town-hall to bid us welcome.
When we were re-formed, the Marshal-Prince of Moskowa passed before the
front of our battalion and said joyfully:
"Well done! I am satisfied with you! The Emperor will know of your
conduct!"
He could not help laughing at the way we rushed on the guns. General
Souham cried:
"Things go bravely on!"
He replied:
"Yes, yes; 'tis in the blood! 'tis in the blood."
The battalion remained there until the next day. We were lodged with
the citizens, who were afraid of us and gave us all we asked. The
Twenty-seventh returned in the evening and was quartered in the old
chateau. We were very tired. After smoking two or three pipes
together, chatting about our glory, Zebede, Klipfel and I went together
to the shop of a joiner and slept on a heap of shavings, and remained
there until midnight, when they beat the reveille. We rose; the joiner
gave us some brandy, and we went out. The rain was falling in
torrents. That night the battalion went to bivouac before the village
of Clepen, two hours' march from Weissenfels.
Other detachments came and rejoined us. The Emperor had arrived at
Weissenfels, and all the Third corps were to follow us. We talked only
of this all the day; but the day after, at five in the morning, we set
off again in the advance.
Before us rolled a river called the Rippach. Instead of turning aside
to take the bridge, we forded it where we were. The water reached our
waists; and I thought, as I pulled my shoes out of the mud, "If any one
had told me this in the days when I was afraid of catching a cold in
the head at M. Goulden's, and when I changed my stockings twice a week,
I should never have believed it. Well, strange things happen to one in
this life."
As we passed down the other bank of the river in the rushes, we
discovered a band of Cossacks observing us from the heights to the
left. They followed slowly, without daring to attack us, and so we
kept on until it was broad day, when suddenly a terrific fusillade and
the thunder of heavy guns made us turn our heads toward Clepen. The
commandant, on horseback, looked over the tops of the reeds.
The sounds of conflict lasted a considerable time, and Sergeant Pinto
said:
"The division is advancing; it is attacked."
The Cossacks gazed, too, toward the fight, and at the end of an hour
disappeared. Then we saw the division advancing in column in the plain
to the right, driving before them the masses of Russian cavalry.
"Forward!" cried the commandant.
We ran, without knowing why, along the river bank, until we reached an
old bridge where the Rippach and Gruna met. Here we were to intercept
the enemy: but the Cossacks had discovered our design, and their whole
army fell back behind the Gruna, which they forded, and, the division
rejoining us, we learned that Marshal Bessieres had been killed by a
cannon-ball.
We left the bridge to bivouac before the village of Gorschen. The
rumor that a great battle was approaching ran through the ranks, and
they said that all that had passed was only a trial to see how the
recruits would act under fire. One may imagine the reflections of a
thoughtful man under such circumstances, among such hare-brained
fellows as Furst, Zebede, and Klipfel, who seemed to rejoice at the
prospect, as if it could bring them aught else than bullet-wounds or
sabre-cuts. All night long I thought of Catharine, and prayed God to
preserve my life and my hands, which are so needful for poor people to
gain their bread.