BORODINO
Barbarously as the French army behaved on its advance to Smolensk,
things were even worse as they left the ruined town behind them and
resumed their journey towards Moscow. It seemed that the hatred with
which they were regarded by the Russian peasantry was now even more than
reciprocated. The destruction they committed was wanton and wholesale;
the villages, and even the towns, were burnt down, and the whole country
made desolate. It was nothing to them that by so doing they added
enormously to the difficulties of their own commissariat; nothing that
they were destroying the places where they might otherwise have found
shelter on their return. They seemed to destroy simply for the sake of
destruction, and to be animated by a burning feeling of hatred for the
country they had invaded.
Since the days of the thirty years' war in Germany, never had war been
carried on in Europe so mercilessly and so destructively. As he saw the
ruined homes or passed the bodies of peasants wantonly shot down, Julian
Wyatt regretted bitterly that he had not been content to remain a
prisoner at Verdun. Battles he had expected; but this destruction of
property, this warring upon peaceful inhabitants, filled him with
horror; his high spirits left him, and he no longer laughed and jested
on the march, but kept on the way in the same gloomy silence that
reigned among the greater part of his companions. When half way to
Moscow a fresh cause of uneasiness manifested itself. The Russians no
longer left their towns and villages for the French to plunder and burn,
but, as they retreated, themselves applied fire to all the houses, with
a thoroughness and method which showed that this was not the work of
stragglers or camp-followers, but that it was the result of a settled
plan. At last news came that the Russians had resolved to fight a
pitched battle at Borodino, and the spirits of the army at once rose.
Napoleon halted them for two days, in order that they might rest and
receive provisions from the baggage trains following. On the 4th of
September they marched forward as before, in three columns, preceded by
Murat's cavalry, which brushed aside the hordes of Cossack horse.
Half-way to Gratz, a Russian division stoutly held for some time a
height up which the road wound, but after some sharp fighting was forced
to retreat.
The Russian position at Borodino was a strong one. The right was covered
by the rivulet of Kolocza, which was everywhere fordable, but ran
through a deep ravine. Borodino, a village on the banks of this rivulet,
formed their centre, and their left was posted upon steeply rising
ground, almost at right angles with their right. Borodino itself--which
lay on the northern side of the Kolocza--was not intended to be held in
force. The rivulet fell into the river Moskwa half a mile beyond
Borodino. Field-works had been thrown up at several points, and near the
centre were two strong redoubts commanding Borodino and the high-road.
Other strong works had been erected at important points.
[Illustration: PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF BORODINO.]
Considerably in advance of the general line of the position a strong
work had been erected; this it was necessary to take before the main
position could be attacked, and at two in the afternoon of the 5th,
Napoleon directed an assault to be made upon this redoubt. It was
obstinately held by the Russians. They were several times driven out,
but, as often, reinforcements came up, and it was captured by them;
and finally, after holding it until nightfall, they fell back to their
main position, the loss having been heavy on both sides. The next day
was spent by Napoleon in reconnoitring the Russian position and deciding
the plan of attack. Finally he determined to make a strong demonstration
against the village of Borodino, and, under cover of this, to launch his
whole army upon the Russian left wing. On the morning of the 7th,
Napoleon posted himself on an eminence near the village of Chewardino.
Near the spot, earthworks were thrown up during the night for the
protection of three batteries, each of twenty-four guns. Davoust and Ney
were to make a direct attack on the enemy's left. Poniatowski was to
endeavour to march through the woods and gain the rear of the Russian
position. The rest of the force were to keep the Russian centre and
right in check. The Imperial Guard formed the reserve.
On the Russian side Bagration's army formed the left, Beningsen's the
centre, and Barclay's the right. The French force numbered about
150,000, the Russian from 80,000 to 90,000. The French had a thousand
guns, the Russians 640. At six in the morning of the 7th of September
the French batteries opened fire along the whole line, and the Russians
at once replied. The roar of artillery was incessant, and ere long the
rattle of musketry swelled the din, as Davoust launched the division of
Desaix, and Ney that of Campans, against three small redoubts in front
of the Russian position. Impetuous as was the assault, the Russians
received it with unflinching courage; two of the Russian generals were
wounded, but the assault was repulsed. Ney moved up another division,
and after severe fighting the redoubts were carried. They were held,
however, but a short time, for Woronzow led forward his grenadiers in
solid squares, and, supporting the advance by a charge of cavalry,
recaptured them, and drove the French back across the ravine in front of
them.
There was now a short pause in the attack, but the roar of artillery and
musketry continued unbroken. Poniatowski now emerged from the wood, and
fell upon the Russian left rear, capturing the village of Outitska.
Touchkoff, a brother of the general who had been captured at Loubino,
who commanded here, fell back to a height that dominated the village and
the ground beyond it, and maintained himself until mid-day. On the
French left, where the Viceroy Beauharnois commanded, the advance was
stubbornly opposed, and the French artillery was several times silenced
by the guns on the eminence. At last, however, the Russians were driven
across the rivulet, and the French occupied Borodino. Leaving a division
of infantry to protect his rear, the Viceroy crossed the stream and
advanced against a great battery in front of the village of Gorki.
Davoust and Ney remained motionless until nine o'clock, as Napoleon
would not forward the reinforcements they had asked for until he learned
that Poniatowski had come into action, and that the Viceroy had crossed
the stream and was moving to the attack of the Russian centre. Now,
reinforced by the division of Friant, they moved forward.
For an hour the Russians held their advanced works, and then were forced
to fall back; and the French, following up their advantage, crossed a
ravine and occupied the village of Semianotsky, which had been partially
destroyed on the previous day by the Russians, so that if captured it
would afford no cover to the French. It was but for a short time that
the latter held it. Coming up at the head of his grenadiers, Touchkoff
drove them out, recrossed the ravine, and recaptured the advance works
they had before so obstinately contested. In turn the French retook the
three redoubts; but, again, a Russian division coming up wrested the
position from them, and replanted their flag there. Napoleon, seeing
that no impression could be made on the Russian left, now sent orders
to the Viceroy to carry the great redoubt before Gorki. In spite of the
difficulties presented by the broken ground, the three French divisions
pressed forward with the greatest gallantry, and, heedless of the storm
of grape poured upon them, stormed the redoubt. But its late defenders,
reinforced by some battalions from Doctorow's corps, dashed forward to
recover the position, and fell with such fury upon the French that the
regiment that had entered the redoubt was all but annihilated, and the
position regained, while at the same moment two regiments of Russian
cavalry fell upon reinforcements pressing forward to aid the defenders,
and threw them into disorder.
The Viceroy now opened fire on the redoubt with all his artillery,
inflicting such loss upon the defenders that it was soon necessary to
relieve them with a fresh division. Ney, finding it impossible to carry
and hold the three redoubts in front of him, directed Junot to endeavour
to force his way between the main Russian left and Touchkoff's division;
but he was met by Prince Eugene's Russian corps, which brought his
advance to a standstill. Junot's presence there, however, acted as a
support to Poniatowski, who, covered by the fire of forty pieces of
cannon, advanced against Touchkoff's division. For a time he gained
ground, but the Russian general, bringing up all his troops, assumed the
offensive, and, driving Poniatowski back, recovered the lost ground. The
brave Russian leader, however, was mortally wounded in the fight. It was
now twelve o'clock, and so far the French had gained no advantage.
Napoleon felt the necessity for a decisive effort, and concentrating his
whole force, and posting 400 guns to cover the advance, sent it forward
against the Russian left.
The Russians, perceiving the magnitude of the movement, despatched large
reinforcements to the defenders, and at the same time, to effect a
diversion, sent the greater portion of their cavalry round to menace
the French rear at Borodino. Three hundred Russian guns opposed the four
hundred of the French, and amidst the tremendous roar of the guns, the
great mass of French infantry hurled themselves upon the Russians. For a
time no impression could be made, so sternly and fiercely did the
Russians fight, but Bagration, their commander, with several other
generals, were badly wounded and forced to retire. Konownitsyn assumed
the command, but the loss of the general, in whom they placed implicit
confidence, told upon the spirits of his troops, and Konownitsyn was
forced to abandon the three redoubts, and to take up a new position
behind Semianotsky, where he re-established his batteries and checked
the progress of the enemy.
A portion of the French cavalry now made a desperate attempt to break
through the Russian left, but two regiments of the Imperial Guard,
throwing themselves into squares, maintained their position until five
regiments of Russian cuirassiers came up and forced their assailants
back. At this critical moment the great mass of Russian cavalry that had
been sent round to attack the Viceroy fell upon his rear, drove his
cavalry into the village with great loss, and pressed the infantry so
hard that the Viceroy himself had to take refuge in one of his squares.
Having thus succeeded in distracting the enemy's attention, arresting
his tide of battle, and giving time to the Russians to reform and plant
their batteries afresh, the Russian cavalry withdrew. The Viceroy
recrossed the stream again, and prepared to make another attack upon the
great bastion he had before captured, and the whole line again advanced.
While the Viceroy attacked the great redoubt in front, Murat sent a
division of his cavalry round to fall upon its rear, and, although swept
by artillery and infantry fire, the brave horsemen carried out their
object, although almost annihilated by the fire of the defenders of the
redoubt.
The French infantry took advantage of the attention of the defenders
being diverted by this attack, and with a rush stormed the work; the
four Russian regiments who held it fought to the last, refusing all
offers of quarter, and maintaining a hand-to-hand conflict until
annihilated. The Russian artillery, in the works round Gorki, swept the
redoubt with their fire, and under its cover the infantry made repeated
but vain attacks to recapture it, for their desperate bravery was
unavailing against the tremendous artillery fire concentrated upon them,
while the French on their part were unable to take advantage of the
position they had gained. Napoleon, indeed, would have launched his
troops against the works round Gorki, but his generals represented to
him that the losses had already been so enormous, that it was doubtful
whether he could possibly succeed, and if he did so, it could only be
with such further loss as would cripple the army altogether.
At three o'clock Napoleon, whose whole army, with the exception of the
Imperial Guard, had been engaged, felt that nothing further could be
done that day, and ordered the battle to cease. He had gained the three
redoubts on the Russians' left and the great redoubt captured by the
Viceroy, but these were really only advanced works, and the main
position of the Russians still remained entirely intact. At night the
French retired from the positions they had won, to those they had
occupied before the battle begun, retaining possession only of the
village of Borodino. The loss of the combatants during the two days'
fighting had been nearly equal, no less than 40,000 men having been
killed on each side, a number exceeding that of any other battle in
modern times. Napoleon expected that the Russians would again give
battle next morning, but Kutusow, contrary to the opinion of most of his
generals, decided on falling back. Beningsen, one of his best officers,
strongly urged him to take up a position at Kalouga, some seventy miles
to the south of Moscow. The position was a very strong one. Napoleon
could not advance against Moscow, which was in a position to offer a
long and determined resistance, until he had driven off the Russian
army. At Kalouga they could at any moment advance on to his line of
communication, cut off all his supplies, and isolate him from France.
The advice was excellent, but Kutusow, who was even more unfitted than
Barclay for the post of commander-in-chief, refused to adopt this
course, and fell back towards Moscow, followed by the French. The
sufferings of the latter had already become severe--the nights were
getting very cold, the scarcity of food was considerable, the greater
part of the army was already subsisting on horse-flesh, the warm
clothing, which was becoming more and more necessary, was far in the
rear, their shoes were worn out, and it was only the thought that they
would have a long period of rest and comfort in Moscow, that animated
them to press forward along the fifty miles of road between Borodino and
that city.
Julian had passed through the terrible battle unscathed. It seemed to
him, when fighting had ceased for the day, that it was almost miraculous
a single man should have survived that storm of fire. While the fight
had actually been going on, the excitement and the ardour of battle had
rendered him almost insensible to the danger. With the soldiers as with
their generals the capture of the three small redoubts became, as the
day went on, a matter on which every thought was bent, every energy
concentrated; it was no longer a battle between French and Russians, but
a struggle in which each man felt that his personal honour was
concerned. Each time that, with loud cheering, they stormed the
blood-stained works, they felt the pride of victory; each time that,
foot by foot, they were again forced backwards, there was rage in every
heart and a fierce determination to return and conquer.
In such a struggle as this, when men's passions are once involved,
death loses its terror; thickly as comrades may fall around, those who
are still erect heed not the gaps, but with eyes fixed on the enemy in
front of him, with lips set tightly together, with head bent somewhat
down as men who struggle through a storm of rain, each man presses on
until a shot strikes him, or he reaches the goal he aims at. At such a
time the fire slackens, for each man strives to decide the struggle,
with bayonet or clubbed musket. Four times did Julian's regiment climb
the side of the ravine in front of the redoubts, four times were they
hurled back again with ever-decreasing numbers, and when at last they
found themselves, as the fire slackened, masters of the position, the
men looked at each other as if waking from some terrible dream, filled
with surprise that they were still alive and breathing, and faint and
trembling, now that the exertion was over and the tremendous strain
relaxed. When they had time to look round, they saw that but one-fourth
of those who had, some hours before, advanced to the attack of the
redoubt of Chewardino remained. The ground around the little earthworks
was piled thickly with dead Frenchmen and Russians, and ploughed up by
the iron storm that had for eight hours swept across it. Dismounted
guns, ammunition boxes, muskets, and accoutrements were scattered
everywhere. Even the veterans of a hundred battles had never witnessed
such a scene, had never gone through so prolonged and terrible a
struggle. Men were differently affected, some shook a comrade's hand
with silent pressure, some stood gazing sternly and fixedly at the lines
where the enemy still stood unconquered, and tears fell down many a
bronzed and battle-worn face; some sobbed like children, exhausted by
their emotions rather than their labours.
The loss of the officers had been prodigious. Eight generals were killed
and thirty wounded, and nearly two thousand officers. The colonel and
majors of Julian's regiment had fallen, and a captain, who was but sixth
on the list when the battle began, now commanded. Between three o'clock
and dusk the men were engaged in binding up each other's wounds, eating
what food they carried in their haversacks, and searching for more in
those of the fallen. Few words were spoken, and even when the order came
to evacuate the position and retire to the ground they had left that
morning, there was not a murmur; for the time no one seemed to care what
happened, or what became of him. Once on the ground where they were to
bivouac, fresh life was infused into their veins. The chill evening air
braced up their nerves; great fires were lighted with brushwood, broken
cartridge-boxes, and the fragments of gun-carriages and waggons; and
water was brought up from the stream. Horse-flesh was soon being
roasted, and as hunger and thirst were appeased, the buzz of
conversation rose round the fires, and the minds as well as the tongues
of men seemed to thaw from their torpor.
"Well, comrade, so you too have gone through it without a scratch,"
Julian's friend, the sergeant, said to him. "Well, you will never see
such a fight again if you grow gray in the service. Where are those who
scoffed at the Russians now? They can fight, these men. It was a battle
of giants. No one could have done more than we did, and yet they did as
much; but to-morrow we shall win."
"What! do you think we shall fight again to-morrow?"
"That is for the Russians to say, not for us. If they stand we must
fight them again. It is a matter of life and death for us to get to
Moscow. We shall win to-morrow, for Napoleon will have to bring up the
Imperial Guard, 20,000 of his best troops, and the Russians put their
last man into the line of battle to-day, and, never fear, we shall win.
But I own I have had enough of it. Never before have I hoped that the
enemy in front of us would go off without a battle, but I do so now. We
want rest and quiet. When spring comes we will fight them again as
often as they like, but until then I for one do not wish to hear a gun
fired."
"I am sure I do not, sergeant," Julian agreed; "and I only hope that we
shall get peace and quiet when we reach Moscow."
"Oh, the Russians will be sure to send in to ask for terms of peace as
soon as we get there," the sergeant said confidently.
"I hope so, but I have great doubts, sergeant. When people are ready to
burn their homes rather than that we should occupy them, to desert all
that they have and to wander away they know not where, when they will
fight as they fought to-day, I have great doubts whether they will talk
of surrender. They can bring up fresh troops long before we can. They
will have no lack of provisions. Their country is so vast that they know
that at most we can hold but a small portion of it. It seems to me that
it is not of surrender they will be thinking, but of bringing up fresh
troops from every part of their empire, of drilling and organizing and
preparing for the next campaign. I cannot help thinking of what would
happen to us if they burnt Moscow, as they have burned half a dozen
towns already."
"No people ever made such a sacrifice. What, burn the city they consider
sacred!--the old capital every Russian thinks of with pride! It never
can be, but if they should do so, all I can say is, God help us all. Few
of us would ever go back to France."
"So it seems to me, sergeant. I have been thinking of it lately, and
after the way in which the Russians came on, careless of life, under the
fire of our cannon to-day, I can believe them to be capable of
anything."
The next morning it was found that the Russian lines were deserted. So
the French army set forward again on its march, and on the morning of
the 14th arrived within sight of Moscow. Kutusow had at one time seemed
disposed to fight another battle in front of the city, and had given a
solemn promise to its governor that he should have three days' notice of
any change in his determination, and so allow time for him to carry out
his intention to evacuate the town, when the municipal authorities were,
methodically and officially, to proceed to destroy the whole city by
fire. This promise Kutusow broke without giving any notice whatever. On
the 13th, at a council of war, he overruled the objections of his
generals, and determined to retreat, his arguments being that the ground
was unsuited for defensive operations; that the defeat of the one
disciplined army would endanger the final success of the war; and that
it was for Russia, not for any one city, they were fighting.
The argument was not without reason; but, if he had resolved not to
fight again, he should have accepted the advice to take up a position on
Napoleon's flank. Had he done this, the French could have made no
advance, and Moscow would have been saved from destruction.
As the army began its passage through the capital the exodus of the
inhabitants commenced. Already the wealthier classes had removed their
effects, and the merchants the greater part of their goods. Now the
whole population poured out into the streets, and thousands of carts and
vehicles of all descriptions, packed closely with household furniture,
goods, and effects of all kinds, moved towards the gates. Out of 200,000
inhabitants 180,000 left the city, with 65,000 vehicles of every kind.
In addition to these were enormous quantities of fugitives from every
town and village west of Smolensk, who had hitherto accompanied the
army, moving through the fields and lanes, so as to leave the roads
unencumbered for the passage of the guns and trains.
Every Russian peasant possesses a roughly-made cart on two or four
wheels, and as their belongings were very scanty, these, as a rule,
sufficed to hold all their property. The greater portion of the
fugitives had passed out of the city at two o'clock in the afternoon,
and shortly afterwards Murat with his cavalry passed across the river by
a ford and entered the town. A few desperate men left behind opened
fire, but were speedily overpowered and killed, but a number of
citizens, mad with fury, rushed so furiously upon Murat and his staff,
that he was obliged to open fire upon them with a couple of light guns.
At three o'clock Napoleon arrived with his guards, expecting to be met
on his arrival by the authorities of the city with assurances of their
submission and prayers for clemency for the population. He was astounded
with the silence that reigned everywhere, and at hearing that Moscow had
been evacuated by the population. Full of gloomy anticipations he
proceeded to the house Murat had selected for him. Strict orders were
issued against pillage, and the army bivouacked outside the city. The
troops, however, were not to be restrained, and as soon as it was dark
stole away and entered the town in large numbers and began the work of
pillage. Scarcely had they entered when in various quarters fires broke
out suddenly. The bazaar, with its ten thousand shops, the crown
magazines of forage, wines, brandy, military stores, and gunpowder were
speedily wrapped in flames. There were no means of combating the fire,
for every bucket in the town had been removed by the orders of the
governor.
Many a tale of strange experience in all parts of Europe was told around
the camp-fires of the grenadiers of the Rhone that evening. Several of
the younger men had been among those who had gone into Moscow in search
of plunder. They had returned laden with goods of all sorts, and but few
without a keg of spirits. The colonel had foreseen this, and had called
the sergeants together.
"My braves," he said, "I am not going to punish anyone for breaking
orders to-night. If I had been carrying a musket myself I have no doubt
that I should have been one of those to have gone into the town. After
such a march as we have had here, it is only natural that men should
think that they are entitled to some fun; but there must be no
drunkenness. I myself shall be at the quarter-guard, and six of you will
be there with me. Every bottle of spirits brought in is to be
confiscated. You will take it in your charge, and serve out a good
ration to every man in the regiment, so that those who have done their
duty and remained in camp shall fare as well as those who have broken
out. I have no doubt there will be sufficient brought in for all. What
remains over, you can serve out as a ration to-morrow. It is good to be
merry, but it is not good to be drunk. The grenadiers have done their
share of fighting and deserve their share of plunder, but do not let
pleasure go beyond the line of duty. Give a good ration to each man,
enough to enjoy the evening, and to celebrate our capture of Moscow, but
not enough to make them noisy. It is like enough that the general will
be round to-night to see how things are going on, and I should wish him
to see us enjoying ourselves reasonably. Anything else that is brought
in, with the exception of spirits, can be kept by the men, unless of
course there is a general order issued that all plunder is to be given
up."
As fully half the regiment were away, and as every man brought back one
or more bottles or kegs of spirits, the amount collected at the
quarter-guard was very considerable. Those of the men who, on coming
back, showed any signs of intoxication were not allowed a share, but
half a litre of spirits was served out to every other man in the
regiment; and although a few of those who had brought it in grumbled,
the colonel's decision gave general satisfaction, and there were merry
groups round the bivouac fires.
"I have marched into a good many capitals," the old sergeant said. "I
was with the first company that entered Madrid. I could never make out
the Spaniards. At one time they are ready to wave their hats and shout
"Viva!" till they are hoarse. At another, cutting your throat is too
good for you. One town will open its gates and treat you as their
dearest friends, the next will fight like fiends and not give in till
you have carried the last house at the point of the bayonet. I was fond
of a glass in those days; I am fond of it now, but I have gained wit
enough to know when it is good to drink. I had a sharp lesson, and I
took it to heart."
"Tell us about it, comrade," Julian said.
"Well it was after Talavera. We had fought a hard battle there with the
English, and found them rough customers. The Spaniards bolted like
sheep. As soldiers, they are the most contemptible curs in the world.
They fought well enough in the mountains under their own leaders, but as
soldiers, why, our regiment would thrash an army of 15,000 of them. The
English were on the top of the hill--at least at the beginning there
were a few of them up there, and we thought that it would be an easy job
to drive them off, but more came up, and do what we would, we could not
manage it; so it ended with something like a drawn battle. We claimed
the victory, because they fell back the next morning, and they claimed
it because they had repulsed all our attacks. However, we reaped the
benefit; they really fell back, because those rascally Spaniards they
were fighting for, starved them; and, besides that, we had two other
divisions marching to interpose between them and Portugal, and that old
fox Wellington saw that unless he went off as fast as he could, he would
be caught in a trap.
"They got a good start of us, but we followed, and three nights after
Talavera two companies of us were quartered for the night in the village
right out on the flank of the line we were following. Well, I got hold
of a skin of as good wine as ever I drank. Two or three of us stole out
to enjoy it quietly and comfortably, and so thoroughly did we do it,
that I suppose I somehow mistook my way back to my quarters, wandered
aside, and then lay down to sleep. I must have slept soundly, for I
heard neither bugle nor drum. When I awoke the sun was high, and there
was a group of ugly-looking Spaniards standing near me. I tried to jump
up on to my feet, but found that my arms and legs were both tied.
However, I managed to sit up and looked round. Not a sign of our uniform
was there to be seen; but a cloud of dust rising from the plain, maybe
ten miles away, showed where the army had gone.
"Well, I gave it up at once. A single French soldier had never found
mercy at the hands of the Spaniards, and I only wondered that they had
not cut my throat at once, instead of taking the trouble to fasten me
up. I knew enough of their language to get along with, and, putting as
bold a face as I could on it, I asked them what they had tied me up for.
They laughed in an unpleasant sort of way, and then went away. 'Let me
have a drink of water,' I said, for my throat was nearly as dry as a
furnace. They paid no attention, and till sunset left me there in the
full heat of the sun. By the time they came back again I was half mad
with thirst. I supposed then, as I have supposed ever since, that they
did not cut my throat at once, because they were afraid that some other
detachment might come along, and that if they found my body or a pool of
blood, they would, as like as not, burn the village over their heads.
Anyhow at sunset four men came, cut the ropes from my feet, and told me
to follow them. I said that I would follow willingly enough if they
would give me a drink of water first, but that if they didn't they might
shoot me if they liked, but not a step would I walk.
"They tried kicking and punching me with their guns, but finding that I
was obstinate, one of them called to a woman down by the village to
bring some water. I drank pretty near a bucketful, and then said I was
ready to go on. We went up the hill and then on some ten miles to a
village standing in the heart of a wild country. Here I was tied to a
post. Two of them went away and returned in a few minutes with a man
they called El Chico. I felt before that I had not much chance, but I
knew now that I had none at all, for the name was well enough known to
us as that of one of the most savage of the guerilla leaders. He abused
me for ten minutes, and told me that I should be burnt alive next
morning, in revenge for some misconduct or other of a scouting party of
ours. I pointed out that as I was not one of that scouting party it was
unfair that I should be punished for their misdeeds; but, of course, it
was of no use arguing with a ruffian like that, so he went away, leaving
me to my reflections.
"I stood all night with my back to that post. Two fellows with muskets
kept guard over me, but even if they hadn't done so I could not have got
away, for I was so tightly bound that my limbs were numbed, and the
cords felt as if they were red hot. In the morning a number of women
brought up faggots. El Chico himself superintended their arrangement,
taking care that they were placed in a large enough circle round me that
the flames would not touch me; so that, in fact, I should be slowly
roasted instead of burned. I looked about in the vague hope one always
has that something might occur to save me, and my heart gave a jump when
I saw a large body of men coming rapidly down a slope on the other side
of the village. They were not our men, I was sure, but I could not see
who they were; anyhow there might be someone among them who would
interpose to save me from this villain.
"Everyone round me was too interested in what was going on to notice
anything else; and you may be sure that I did not look that way again,
for I knew well enough that if the guerilla had noticed them he would
shoot me at once rather than run any risk of being baulked of his
vengeance. So it was not until they began to enter the village that
anyone noticed the new arrivals. A mounted officer, followed by four
troopers, dashed down ahead and rode up to us, scattering the crowd
right and left. I saw at once by his uniform that he was an English
officer, and knew that I was saved. I fancy I must have been weak, for I
had had nothing to eat the day before, and had been tied up all night.
For a time I think I really fainted. When I recovered some soldiers had
cut my bonds, and one was pouring some spirits down my throat. The
English officer was giving it hot to El Chico.
"'You dog!' he said, 'it is you, and the fellows like you, who bring
discredit on your country. You run like sheep when you see a French
force under arms. You behave like inhuman monsters when, by chance, a
single man falls into your power. I have half a mind to put you against
that wall there and have you shot; or, what would meet your deserts
better, hang you to yonder tree. Don't finger that pistol, you
scoundrel, or I will blow your brains out. Be off with you, and thank
your stars I did not arrive ten minutes later; for if I had come too
late to save this poor fellow's life, I swear to you that I would have
hung you like a dog. Who is the head man of the village?'"
A man stepped forward.
"'What do you mean, sir,' said the officer sternly, 'by permitting this
villain to use your village for his atrocities? As far as I can see you
are all as bad as he is, and I have a good mind to burn the whole place
over your ears. As it is, I fine the village 800 gallons of wine, and
4000 pounds of flour, and 10 bullocks. See that it is all forthcoming in
a quarter of an hour, or I shall set my men to help themselves. Not a
word! Do as you are ordered!'
"Then he dismounted, and was coming to me, when his eye fell on El
Chico. 'Sergeant,' he said to a non-commissioned officer,' take four
men and march that fellow well outside the village, and then stand and
watch him; and see that he goes on, and if he doesn't, shoot him.' Then
he came over to me. 'It is well that I arrived in time, my lad,' he said
in French.' How did you get into this scrape?'
"'It was wine did it, sir. I drank too much at our bivouac in a village
down the plain, and did not hear the bugles in the morning, and got left
behind. When I awoke they had tied me up, and they kept me lying in the
sun all day, not giving me as much as a drop of water. At sunset they
marched me up here and tied me to that post, and El Chico told me that I
should be roasted in the morning; and so it certainly would have been if
you had not come up.'
"I learned that he was a Colonel Trant. He commanded a force of
Portuguese, and was a daring partizan leader, and gave us a great deal
of trouble. I was never more pleased than I was at seeing the disgust of
those villagers as they paid the fine imposed on them, and I should
imagine that when El Chico paid his next visit there, his reception
would not be a cordial one. The brigade had been marching all night, and
halted for six hours, and the bullocks, flour, and wine furnished them
with a good meal all round. It was an hour or two before I was able to
stand, but after a while the circulation got right, and I was able to
accompany them when they marched. They did not know until I told them
that our force had passed on ahead of them in pursuit of Wellington. I
made no secret of that, for they would have heard it from the first
peasant they met. When we started, the colonel asked me what I meant to
do.
"'I don't want to keep you prisoner, my man,' he said. 'In the first
place, I don't wish to be troubled with looking after you; and in the
second, you cannot be considered as a prisoner of war, for you were
unarmed and helpless when we found you. Now, we are going to march all
night. I am not going to tell where we are going; but I think it likely
that we shall pass within sight of your camp-fires, and in that case I
will leave you to make your way down to them, and will hand you back
your musket and pouch, which you may want if you happen to fall in with
a stray peasant or two.'
"I had noticed that they had taken along my musket and pouch, which had
been brought up by the fellows that guarded me. They were strapped on to
a mule's pack, of which they had about a couple of dozen with them, but
I little thought the gun was going to be given me again.
"'Monsieur le Colonel,' I said, 'I thank you from my heart. I should
have felt disgraced for ever if I were to go into the camp unarmed. Now,
I shall be able to go in with my head erect, and take my punishment for
having got drunk, and failing to fall in at the assembly, like a man. On
the honour of a French soldier, I swear that I shall for ever regard the
English as the most generous of foes.'
"It was noon when we started, and at nine o'clock at night, as we were
keeping along high up on the hills, I saw our bivouac fires. A minute or
two later, the colonel rode up.
"'There are your fires, lad,' he said. 'I don't fancy there is any
village between us and the spot where your people are encamped. However,
as there is a moon, you will be able to avoid one if you come upon it;
and seeing you are armed, any peasants you may meet will scarcely
venture to attack you within musket-shot of your own lines. Here is a
note I have written to the colonel of your regiment telling him of the
plight I found you in, and expressing a hope that what you have gone
through may be considered a sufficient punishment for your indulgence in
too much wine. Good-night.'
"Well, I got down safely enough. Of course, when I got to our line of
pickets, I was challenged, and sent in a prisoner. In the morning I was
taken before the colonel. He rated me soundly. I can tell you. When he
had finished, I saluted and handed him the note. He read it through, and
handed it to the major.
"'A letter from the enemy,' he said. 'It is from Trant, who must be a
good fellow as well as a brave soldier, as we know to our cost. Tell me
more about this, Rignold.'
"I told him.
"'I agree with the Englishman,' he said. 'You have had a lesson that
will last you all your life. I wish I had means of sending an answer
back to this English colonel, thanking him for his generous treatment.
If he ever falls into our hands, I will take care that this action of
his shall be brought to the general's notice. You can go.'
"Well, you see, that lesson has lasted all my life; and I am certainly
not likely to forget it here, where the peasants are every bit as savage
as the Spaniards. But as for the English, though I have fought with them
half a dozen times since, and have been beaten by them too, I have
always had a liking for them. That was one reason why I took to you,
youngster, from the first."
"They fight well, do they?" one of the other sergeants asked. "I never
was in Spain, but I thought from the bulletins that we generally beat
them."
"Bulletins!" growled Rignold, "who can believe bulletins? We have got so
accustomed to writing bulletins of victory that when we do get thrashed
we can't write in any other strain. Why, I tell you that we who have
fought and conquered in Italy and Austria, in Prussia and on the Rhine,
have learned to acknowledge among ourselves, that even our best troops
were none too good when it came to fighting the English. I fought a
dozen battles against them, and in not one of them could I honestly say
that we got the best of it. Talavera was the nearest thing. But we were
fairly thrashed at Busaco and Salamanca. Albuera we claimed as a drawn
fight, but such a drawn fight I never wish to share in again. The day
had been going well. The Spaniards of course bolted, horse and foot. But
at last matters cleared up, and we advanced against them in heavy
columns. Soult called up all the reserves. We had captured six of their
guns. Our columns had crowned the hill they held, and we cheered loudly,
believing that the battle was won, when an English brigade in line fell
upon us. Our guns swept them with grape, and that so terribly that for a
time they fell into confusion. But to our astonishment they rallied, and
came down on us. We were four to one, but we were in columns, and strove
in vain to form into line to meet them. Volley after volley swept away
the head of our formation. Soult exposed himself recklessly. Officers
and men ran forward, and we kept up a fire that seemed as if it must
destroy them, and yet on they came, cheering incessantly. Never did I
see such a thing. Never did any other man there see such a thing. They
came down upon us with the bayonet. We strove, we fought like madmen;
but it was in vain, and we were hurled down that hill in utter
confusion.
"We heard afterwards that of the 6000 British soldiers who began the
day, but 1800 stood unwounded at the end. They had with them 24,000
Spaniards, but, of course, we never counted them as anything, and they
did their allies more harm than good by throwing them into confusion in
their flight. We had 19,000 infantry, all veteran troops, mind you, and
yet we could not storm that hill, and drive those 6000 Englishmen off
it. We lost over 8000 men, and that in a battle that lasted only four
hours. Our regiment suffered so that it was reduced to a third of its
number. We fought them again at Salamanca, and got thrashed there; soon
after that we were sent back to France to fill up our ranks again, and I
for one was glad indeed when we were sent to the Rhine and not back to
Spain; for I tell you I never want to meet the English again in battle.
Borodino was bad enough, and for stubborn, hard fighting, the Russians
have proved themselves as tough customers as one can want to meet; but
the English have more dash and quickness. They manoeuvre much more
rapidly than do the Russians, and when they charge, you have either got
to destroy them or to go."
"You are right there, comrade," another said. "I was with my regiment,
the 5th, at Badajoz. It was a strong place. Phillipson, who was in
command, was a thoroughly good officer. He had strengthened the defences
in every way, and the garrison was 5000 strong. We reckoned we could
hold out for three months anyhow. 15,000 men sat down before us on the
17th of March, and began to open trenches against a strong outlying
fort. We made several sorties, and did all we could to hinder them, but
on the 25th they stormed the fort. It was defended desperately, but in
an hour it was all over. Still, that was only an outlying work. Soult
was known to be advancing to our relief; but he waited to gather as
large a force as possible, believing, reasonably enough, that we could
hold out a month, while we still calculated on holding out for three.
The English worked like demons, and on the 6th of April they had made
two breaches. We had prepared everything for them. We had planted mines
all over the breaches. We had scores of powder barrels, and hundreds of
shells ready to roll down. We had guns placed to sweep them on both
flanks and along the top. We had a stockade of massive beams in which
were fixed sword blades, while in front of this the breach was covered
with loose planks studded with sharp iron points.
"Every man behind the stockade had half a dozen spare muskets. A legion
of devils could not have taken the place. They did not take it, but
never did mortal men try harder. Even when they felt that it was
absolutely impossible, they stood there amid that storm of shot and
shell, exploding powder barrels, and bursting mines. Two thousand men
were killed in that breach, and yet they still stood there. Our own
triumph was but a short one, for another British division had carried
the castle. While we were exulting in victory, the town was lost. Thus,
you see, they had in twenty days captured the fortress that we and
everyone else made sure we could defend for at least three months.
Fortunately we were exchanged a short time afterwards, and so I escaped
being sent to an English prison. I agree with you, Rignold. I am ready
to do my share of fighting, but I would rather do it against any one,
even against these Russians, than against the English; and I think you
will find that every man who has served in Spain would say the same."
"After all, comrades," another veteran said, "it seems to me that it
does not make much difference who you have got to fight against, for you
see the generals make things about even. If one of our generals finds
that there are say 50,000 Spaniards marching against him, while his
force is only 10,000, he gives battle. Well, he won't give battle to
50,000 Austrians unless he has got something like 35,000. I should say
that after Borodino he would like to have 40,000, at least, against
50,000 Russians. No doubt the English calculate the same way, and, in
Spain, we must admit that we always found them ready to fight when, as
far as numbers went, we outmatched them. So I take it that the
difference between the fighting powers of armies is not felt so much as
you would think by each soldier, because allowance for that is made by
the generals on both sides, and the soldiers find themselves always
handicapped just in proportion to their fighting powers. So you see
there is a big element of luck in it. The question of ground comes in,
and climate, and so on. Now, taking Spain, though 10,000 against 50,000
would be fair enough odds in a fight in the open, if a hundred of us
were attacked by 500 Spaniards among the mountains, it would go very
hard with us. And, again, though 1000 Frenchmen might repulse 3000 of
those Mamelukes if they attacked us in the cool of the morning or in the
evening, yet if we were caught in the middle of the day, with the sun
blazing down, and parched with thirst, we might succumb. Then, of
course, the question of generals counts for a great deal. So you see
that even supposing both sides agree, as it were, as to the fighting
powers of their troops, the element of luck counts for a lot, and before
you begin to fight you can never feel sure that you are going to win."
"Well, but we do win almost everywhere, Brison."
"Yes, yes; because we have Napoleon and Ney and Soult and the rest of
them. We have had to fight hard many and many a time, and if the battle
had been fought between the same armies with a change of generals,
things would have gone quite differently to what they did."
"You were with Napoleon in Egypt, were you not?" Julian asked.
"Yes, I was there; and, bad as this desolate country is, I would anyhow
rather campaign here than in Egypt. The sun seems to scorch into your
very brain, and you are suffocated by dust. Drink as much as you will,
you are always tormented by thirst. It is a level plain, for the most
part treeless, and with nothing to break the view but the mud villages,
which are the same colour as the soil. Bah! we loathed them. And yet I
ought not to say anything against the villages, for, if it had not been
for one of them, I should not be here now. I will tell you the tale. Two
hundred of us had been despatched to seize some of the leading sheiks,
who were said to be holding a meeting in some place fifteen miles away
from where we were encamped. We had a squadron of horse and a hundred of
our men. We afterwards found that the whole story was a lie, invented to
get us into a trap. We were guided by a villainous-looking rogue on a
camel, and beyond the fact that we were marching south-east, we had no
idea where we were going. Half the cavalry kept ahead. We had marched
four hours, when, on coming on to the crest of one of the sand-hills, we
saw about half a mile away a little clump of mud huts. Near the foot of
some high hills to the right were some tents.
"'There it is,' the guide said, pointing to the tents. And the cavalry
set off at a gallop, followed by the guide, who soon fell far into their
rear. Just as the cavalry reached the tents, we saw two great masses of
horsemen appear from behind the sand-hills on either flank, and with
loud yells ride down upon them. With a shout of fury we were about to
break into a run, but the major who was in command said, 'It is useless,
comrades. There is but one hope. Make for that village. We can hold
that; and there, if any of our comrades escape, they will find shelter.
Double, march.' Off we went, but it was against the grain. We could hear
the cracking of pistols, the shouts of our brave fellows, the yells of
the Arabs, and our hearts were there; but we felt that the major was
right. There must have been fully a couple of thousand of the Arabs, and
we should have but thrown away our lives. It was a terrible run. The
heat was stifling; the dust rose in clouds under our feet. We could
scarce breathe, but we knew that we were running for life. As we neared
the village, we heard yells behind us.
"'A hundred yards further, lads,' the major shouted. We did it, and when
we reached the first house we halted. Three hundred yards away were a
dozen of our troopers, followed by a mob of Arabs. The Major faced
twenty men about, and ordered the rest of us to divide ourselves among
the huts. There were but nine of these. The villagers, who had seen us
coming, had bolted, and we had just got into the houses when we heard
the rear-guard open fire. There was a young lieutenant with the
troopers, and, as they rode in, he ordered them to dismount, and to lead
their horses into the huts. A moment later the rear-guard ran in. We
felt for a moment like rats caught in a trap, for, in the hut I was in,
there were but two rooms. One had no light but what came in at the door;
the other had an opening of about nine inches square, and that not
looking into the street. In a moment, however, we saw that there was a
ladder leading up to the flat roof, and we swarmed up. These houses are
all built with flat roofs made of clay like the walls. Some of them have
a parapet about a foot high; some of them none at all. In better-class
villages some of the parapets are a good deal higher; so that the women
can sit there unobserved from the other roofs.
"The hut we were in had a low parapet, and we threw ourselves down
behind it. The street was full of horsemen, yelling and discharging
their guns at the doors; but when, almost at the same moment, a rattling
fire broke out from every roof, the scene in the street changed as if by
magic. Men fell from their horses in all directions. The horses plunged
and struggled, and so terrible was the _mêlée_ that, had the houses
stood touching each other, I doubt whether a man of those who entered
would have got out alive. As it was, they rode out through the openings,
leaving some sixty or seventy of their number dead in the street. We had
breathing time now. The whole of the Arab horsemen presently surrounded
us, but the lesson had been so severe that they hesitated to make
another charge into the village. The major's orders, that we were not to
throw away a shot, unless they charged down in force, were passed from
roof to roof round the village. We were ordered to barricade the doors
with anything we could find, and if there was nothing else, we were,
with our bayonets, to bring down part of the partition walls and pile
the earth against the door. Each hut was to report what supply of water
there was in it. This was to be in charge of the non-commissioned
officer, or the oldest soldier if there was not one, and he was to see
that it was not touched at night. It was to be divided equally among all
the huts.
"'You will understand, men,' he shouted from his roof, 'that our lives
depend more upon the water than upon your arms. We could defend this
place against that horde for a year; but if water fails altogether,
there will be nothing to do but to sally out and sell our lives as
dearly as we can.' Fortunately, we had still water with us, for it was
not known whether we should find any on the march, and we had been
ordered to leave our kits behind, and to carry, in addition to the
water-bottles, a skin holding about a gallon. In our hut we found eight
porous jars, each of which would hold about a couple of gallons. Six of
them were full. The empty ones we filled up from our skins, for these
jars keep the water wonderfully cool. In none of the other huts had they
found so good a supply as ours, but all had more or less water; and, on
totalling them up, it was found that there was an average of four jars
in each hut, without, of course, counting that which we had brought. As
there were a hundred and ten of us, this gave a total supply of a
hundred and eighty-two gallons; rather better than a gallon and a half a
man.
"The major ordered that the allowance was to be a pint night and morning
for the first four days. If help did not come at the end of that time,
it was to be reduced by half. We could see where the water came from.
There was a well-worn path from the village to a hollow about three
hundred yards away, and we could see that there was a great hole, and it
was down this that the women went to fill their water-jars. It was a
consolation to us that it was so close, for, if the worst came to the
worst, half of us could go down at night and refill the jars. No doubt
they would have to fight their way, but, as the rest could cover them by
their fire, we felt that we should be able to manage it. For the next
four days we held the place. We slept during the day. The Arabs did not
come near us then; but as soon as it got dusk they began to crawl up,
and flashes of fire would break out all round us.
"Unfortunately, there was no moon, and as they came up pretty nearly
naked, their bodies were so much the colour of the sand that they could
not be made out twenty yards away. They were plucky enough, for they
would come right in among the houses and fire through the doors, and
sometimes a number of them would make a rush against one; but nothing
short of bursting the doors into splinters would have given them an
entry, so firmly did the piles of earth hold them in their places. In
the middle of the fifth day a cloud of dust was seen across the plain
from the direction in which we came. No one had a doubt that it was a
party sent to our relief, and every man sprang to his feet and swarmed
up on to the roof, as soon as the man on watch above told us the news;
directly afterwards the major shouted, 'Each man can have a ration of
water.'
"In a few minutes we saw the Arabs mount and ride off, and it was not
long before five hundred of our cavalry rode into the village. We had
only lost five men; all had been shot through the head as they were
firing over the parapet. We had each night buried those who fell, and in
five minutes after the arrival of the cavalry, were ready to start on
our march back. If it had not been for that village, and for the
quickness with which the major saw what was the only thing to be done,
not a single man would ever have got back to camp to tell what had
happened. They were brave fellows, those Arabs; and, if well drilled by
our officers, would have been grand troops on such an expedition as
this, and would have taught the Cossacks a good many things at their own
game.
"The Egyptian infantry were contemptible, but the Arabs are grand
horsemen. I don't say that in a charge, however well drilled, they
could stand against one of our cuirassier regiments. Men and horses
would be rolled over; but for skirmishing, vidette duty, and foraging,
no European cavalry would be in it with them. They are tireless, both
horses and men, and will go for days on a little water and a handful of
dates; and if the horses can get nothing else, they will eat the dates
just as contentedly as their masters."
Several times as these stories had been told, the group had risen to
their feet to watch the fires that were burning in various parts of the
town, and just as the sergeant brought his story to a close, the
assembly sounded.
"I have been expecting that for some time," Brison said. "As our
division is nearest to the city, I thought they would be sure to turn us
out before long, to put out those fires. They must be the work of some
of our rascally camp-followers, or of some of the ruffians of the town,
who have been breaking into deserted houses and plundering them. Well,
the liquor is finished, and there is always interest in fighting a
fire."
Five minutes later, the Grenadiers of the Rhone and six other regiments
of their division marched into Moscow to extinguish the flames.