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Waterloo: A sequel to The Conscript of 1813, a novel by Erckmann-Chatrian |
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Chapter 18 |
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_ CHAPTER XVIII During the night the air was heavy, and I wakened every hour in spite of my great fatigue, but my comrades slept on, some talking in their sleep. Buche did not stir. Close at hand, on the edge of the forest, our stacked muskets sparkled in the moonlight. In the distance on the left I could hear the "Qui vive,"[1] and on our front the "Wer da."[2] Nearer to us, our sentinels stood motionless, up to their waists in the standing grain.
[2] Who goes there!--German.
They had extinguished their fires at St. Amand and at Ligny, but they burned brighter than ever at Sombref. The Prussians who had just arrived after forced marches were no doubt making their soup. A thousand thoughts ran through my brain, and I said to myself from time to time, "You escaped from Lutzen and Leipzig and Hanau, why not escape this time also?" But the hopes which I cherished did not prevent me from realizing that the battle would be a terrible one. I lay down, however, and slept soundly for half an hour, when the drum-major, Padoue himself, commenced to beat the reveille. He promenaded up and down the edge of the wood and turned off his rolls and double rolls with great satisfaction. The officers were standing in the grain on the hill-side in a group, looking toward Fleurus, and talking among themselves. Our reveille always commenced before that of the Austrians or Prussians or any of our enemies. It is like the song of the lark at dawn. They commence theirs on their big drums with a dismal roll which gives you the idea of a funeral. But, on the contrary, their buglers have pretty airs for sounding the reveille, while ours only give two or three blasts, as much as to say: "Come, let us be going! there is no time to lose." Everybody rose and the sun came up splendidly over the grain fields, and we could feel beforehand how hot it would be at noon. Buche and all the detailed men set off with their canteens for water, while others were lighting handfuls of straw with tinder for their fires. There was no lack of wood, as each one took an armful from the piles that were already cut. Corporal Duhem and Sergeant Rabot and Zebede came to have a talk with me. We were together in 1813, and they had been at my wedding, and in spite of the difference in our rank they had always continued their friendship for me. "Well! Joseph," said Zebede, "the dance is going to commence." "Yes," I replied, and recalling the words of poor Sergeant Pinto the morning before Lutzen, I added with a wink, "this, Zebede, will be a battle, as Sergeant Pinto said, where you will gain the cross between the thrusts of ramrod and bayonet, and if you do not have a chance now you need never expect it." They all began to laugh, and Zebede said: "Yes, indeed, the poor old fellow richly deserved it, but it is harder to catch than the bouquet at the top of a climbing pole." We all laughed, and as they had a flask of brandy, we took a crust of bread together as we watched the movements of the enemy which began to be perceptible. Buche had returned among the first with his canteen and now stood behind us with his ears wide open like a fox on the alert. Files of cavalry came out of the woods and crossed the grain fields in the direction of St. Amand, the large village at the left of Fleurus. "Those," said Zebede, "are the light horse of Pajol who will deploy as scouts. These are Exelman's dragoons. When the others have ascertained the positions they will advance in line, that is the way they always do, and the cannon will come with the infantry. The cavalry will form on the right or the left and support the flanks, and the infantry will take the front rank. They will form their attacking columns on the good roads and in the fields, and the affair will begin with a cannonade for twenty minutes or half an hour, more or less, and when half the batteries are disabled, the Emperor will choose a favorable moment to put us in, but it is we who will catch the bullets and canister because we are nearest. We advance, carry arms, in readiness for a charge, at a quick step and in good order, but it always ends in a double quick, because the shot makes you impatient. I warn you, conscripts, beforehand, so that you may not be surprised." More than twenty conscripts had ranged themselves behind us to listen. The cavalry continued to pour out of the wood. "I will bet," said Corporal Duhem, "that the Fourth cavalry has been on the march in our rear since daybreak." And Rabot said they would have to take time to get into line, as it was so bad traversing the wood. We were discussing the matter like generals, and we scanned the position of the Prussians around the villages, in the orchards, and behind the hedges, which are six feet high in that country. A great number of their guns were grouped in batteries between Ligny and St. Amand, and we could plainly see the bronze shining in the sun, which inspired all sorts of reflections. "I am sure," said Zebede, "that they are all barricaded, and they have dug ditches and pierced the walls; we should have done well to push on yesterday, when their squares retreated to the first village on the heights. If we were on a level with them it would be very well, but to climb up across those hedges under the enemy's fire will cost a trifle, unless something should happen in the rear as is sometimes the case with the Emperor." The old soldiers were talking in this fashion on all sides, and the conscripts were listening with open ears. Meanwhile the camp-kettles were suspended over the fire, but they were expressly forbidden to use their bayonets for this purpose as it destroyed their temper. It was about seven o'clock, and we all thought that the battle would be at St. Amand. The village was surrounded by hedges and shrubbery, with a great tower in the centre, and higher up in the rear there were more houses and a winding road bordered with a stone wail. All the officers said: "That is where the struggle will be." As our troops came from Charleroi they spread over the plain below us, infantry and cavalry side by side; all the corps of Vandamme and Gerard's division. Thousands and thousands of helmets glittered in the sun, and Buche who stood beside me, exclaimed: "Oh! oh! oh! look, Joseph, look! they come continually!" And we could see innumerable bayonets in the same direction as far as the eye could reach. The Prussians were spreading more and more over the hill-side near the windmills. This movement continued till eight o'clock. Nobody was hungry, but we ate all the same, so as not to reproach ourselves; for the battle, once begun, might last two days without giving us a chance to eat again. Between eight and nine o'clock the first battalions of our division left the wood. The officers came to shake hands with their comrades, but the staff remained in the rear. Suddenly the hussars and chasseurs passed us, extending our line of battle toward the right. They were Morin's cavalry. Our idea was that when the Prussians should have become engaged in the attack on St. Amand, we would fall on their flank at Ligny. But the Prussians were on their guard, and from that moment they stopped at Ligny, instead of going on to St. Amand. They even came lower down, and we could see the officers posting the men among the hedges and in the gardens and behind the low walls and barracks. We thought their position very strong. They continued to come lower down in a sort of fold of the hill-side between Ligny and Fleurus, and that astonished us, for we did not yet know that a little brook divided the village into two parts, and that they were filling the houses on our side, and we did not know that if they were repulsed they could retreat up the hill and still hold us always under their fire. If we knew everything about such affairs beforehand, we should never dare to commence such a dangerous enterprise, but the difficulties are discovered step by step. We were destined that day to find a great many things which we did not expect. About half-past eight several of our regiments had left the wood, and very soon the drums beat the assembly and all the battalions took their arms. The general, Count Gerard, arrived with his staff, and passing us at a gallop, without any notice, went on to the hill below Fleurus. Almost immediately the firing commenced; the scouts of Vandamme approached the village on the left, and two pieces of cannon were sent off, with the artillerymen on horseback. After five or six discharges of cannon from the top of the hill the musketry ceased and our scouts were in Fleurus, and we saw three or four hundred Prussians mounting the hill in the distance, toward Ligny. General Gerard, after looking at this little engagement, came back with his staff and passed slowly down our front, inspecting us carefully, as if he wished to ascertain what sort of humor we were in. He was about forty-five years old, brown, with a large head, a round face, the lower part heavy, with a pointed chin. A great many peasants in our country resemble him, and they are not the most stupid. He said not a word to us, and when he had passed the whole length of our line, all the generals and colonels were grouped together. The command was given to order arms. The orderlies then set off like the wind; this engrossed the attention of all, but not a man stirred. The rumor spread that Grouchy was to be commander-in-chief, and that the Emperor had attacked the English four leagues away, on the route to Brussels. This news put us in anything but a pleasant humor, and more than one said, "It is no wonder that we are here doing nothing since morning; if the Emperor was with us, we should have given battle long ago, and the Prussians would not have had time to know where they were." This was the talk we indulged in, and it shows the injustice of men; for three hours afterward, in the midst of shouts of "Vive l'Empereur," Napoleon arrived. These shouts swept along the line like a tempest, and were continued even opposite Sombref. Now everything was right. That for which we had reproached Marshal Grouchy, was perfectly proper when done by the Emperor, since it was he. Very soon the order reached us to advance our line five hundred paces to the right, and off we started through the rye, oats, and barley, which were swept down before us, but the principal line of battle on the left was not changed. As we reached a broad road which we had not before seen and came in sight of Fleurus, with its little brook bordered with willows, the order was given to halt! A murmur ran through the whole division--"There he is!" He was on horseback, and only accompanied by a few of the officers of his staff. We could only recognize him in the distance by has gray coat and his hat; his carriage with its escort of lancers was in the rear. He entered Fleurus by the high road, and remained in the village more than an hour, while we were roasting in the grain fields.
We had hardly halted, when the Emperor came out of this mill with three or four generals and two old peasants in blouses, holding their cotton caps in their hands. The whole division commenced to shout, "Vive l'Empereur!" I saw him plainly as he came along a path in front of the battalion, with his head bent down and his hands behind his back listening to the old bald peasant. He took no notice of the shouts, but turned round twice and pointed toward Ligny. I saw him as plainly as I could see Father Goulden when we sat opposite each other at table. He had grown much stouter than when he was at Leipzig, and looked yellow. If it had not been for his gray coat and his hat, I should hardly have recognized him. His cheeks were sunken and he looked much older. All this came, I presume, from his troubles at Elba, and in thinking of the mistakes he had made; for he was a wise man, and could see his own faults. He had destroyed the revolution which had sustained him, he had recalled the emigres who despised him, he had married an archduchess who preferred Vienna to Paris, and he had chosen his bitterest enemies for his counsellors. [Illus: The Emperor, his hands behind his back, and his head bent forward.] In short he had put everything back where it was before the revolution, nothing was wanting but Louis XVIII., and then the kings had put Louis XVIII. on his throne again. Now he had come to overthrow the legitimate sovereign, and some called him a despot, and some a Jacobin. It was unfortunate for him that he had done everything possible to facilitate the return of the Bourbons. Nothing remained to him but his army, if he lost that, he lost everything, for many of the people wanted liberty like Father Goulden, others wanted tranquillity and peace like Mother Gredel, and like me and all those who were forced into the war. These things made him terribly anxious, he had lost the confidence of the whole world. The old soldiers alone preserved their attachment to him, and asked only to conquer or die. With such notions you cannot fail of one or the other, all is plain and clear; but a great many people do not have these ideas, and for my part I loved Catherine a thousand times more than the Emperor. On reaching a turn in the wall, where the hussars were waiting for him, he mounted his horse, and General Gerard who had recognized him came up at a gallop. He turned round for two seconds to listen to him, and then both went into Fleurus. Still we waited! About two o'clock General Gerard returned, and our line was obliqued a third time more to the right, and then the whole division broke into columns, and we followed the road to Fleurus with the cannon and caissons at intervals between the brigades. The dust enveloped us completely. Buche said to me: "Cost what it may, I must drink at the first puddle we come to." But we did not find any water. The music did not cease, and masses of cavalry kept coming up behind us, principally dragoons. We were still on the march when suddenly the roar of musketry and cannon broke on our ears as when water breaking over its barriers sweeps all before it. I knew what it was, but Buche turned pale and looked at me in mute astonishment. "Yes, indeed, Jean," said I, "those over there are attacking St. Amand, but our turn will come presently." The music had ceased but the thunder of the guns had redoubled, and we heard the order on all sides, "Halt!" The division stopped on the road and the gunners ran out at intervals and put their pieces in line fifty paces in front, with their caissons in the rear. We were opposite Ligny. We could only see a white line of houses half hidden in the orchards, with a church spire above them--slopes of yellow earth, trees, hedges, and palisades. There we were, twelve or fifteen thousand men without the cavalry, waiting the order to attack. The battle raged fiercely about St. Amand, and great masses of smoke rose over the combatants toward the sky. While waiting for our turn, my thoughts turned to Catherine with more tenderness than ever, the idea that she would soon be a mother crossed my mind, and then I besought God to spare my life, but with this, came the comfort of feeling that our child would be there if I should die to console them all, Catherine, Aunt Gredel, and Father Goulden. If it should be a boy they would call it Joseph, and caress it, and Father Goulden would dandle it on his knee, Aunt Gredel would love it, and Catherine would think of me as she embraced it, and I should not be altogether dead to them. But I clung to life while I saw how terrible was the conflict before us. Buche said to me, "Joseph, will you promise me something?--I have a cross--if I am killed." He shook my hand, and I said: "I promise." "Well!" he added, "it is here on my breast. You must carry it to Harberg and hang it up in the chapel in remembrance of Jean Buche, dead in the faith of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." He spoke very earnestly, and I thought his wish very natural. Some die for the rights of Humanity; with some, the last thought is for their mother, others are influenced by the example of just men who have sacrificed themselves for the race, but the feeling is the same in every case, though each one expresses it according to his own manner of thinking. I gave him the desired promise and we waited for nearly half an hour longer. All the troops as they left the wood came and formed near us, and the cavalry were mustering on our right as if to attack Sombref. Up to half-past two o'clock not a gun had been fired, when an aid-de-camp of the Emperor arrived on the road to Fleurus, at full speed, and I thought immediately, "Our turn has come now. May God watch over us, for, miserable wretches that we are, we cannot save ourselves in such a slaughter as is threatening." I had scarcely made these reflections when two battalions on the right set off on the road, with the artillery, toward Sombref, where the Uhlans and Prussian cavalry were deploying in front of our dragoons. It was the fortune of these two battalions to remain in position on the route all that day to observe the cavalry of the enemy, while we went to take the village where the Prussians were in force. The attacking columns were formed just as the clock struck three; I was in the one on the left which moved first at a quick step along a winding road. On the hill where Ligny was situated, was an immense ruin. It had been built of brick and was pierced with holes and overlooked us as we mounted the hill. We watched it sharply too, through the grain as we went. The second column left immediately after us and passed by a shorter route directly up the hill, we were to meet them at the entrance to the village. I do not know when the third column left, as we did not meet again till later. All went smoothly until we reached a point where the road was cut through a little elevation and then ran down to the village. As we passed through between these little hills covered with grain, and caught sight of the nearest house, a veritable hail of balls fell on the head of the column with a frightful noise. From every hole in the old ruin, from all the windows and loop-holes in the houses, from the hedges and orchards and from above the stone walls the muskets showered their deadly fire upon us like lightning. At the same time a battery of fifteen pieces which had been for that very purpose placed in a field in the rear of the great tower at the left of, and higher tip than Ligny, near the windmill, opened upon us with a roar, compared with which that of the musketry was nothing. Those who had unfortunately passed the cut in the road fell over each other in heaps in the smoke. At that moment we heard the fire of the other column which had engaged the enemy at our right, and the roar of other cannon, though we could not tell whether they were ours or those of the Prussians. Fortunately the whole battalion had not passed the little knoll, and the balls whistled through the grain above us, and tore up the ground without doing us the least injury. Every time this whizzing was heard, I observed that the conscripts near me ducked their heads, and Jean Buche, I remember, was staring at me with open eyes. The old soldiers marched with tightly compressed lips. The column stopped. For an instant each man thought whether it would not be better to turn back, but it was only for a second, the enemy's fire seemed to slacken, the officers all drew their sabres and shouted, "Forward!" The column set off again at a run and threw itself into the road that led down the hill across the hedges. From the palisades and the walls behind which the Prussians were in ambush, they continued to pour their musketry fire upon us. But woe to every one we encountered! they defended themselves with the desperation of wolves, but a few blows from a musket, or a bayonet thrust, soon stretched them out in some corner. A great number of old soldiers with gray mustaches had secured their retreat, and retired in good order, turning to fire a last shot, and then slipped through a breach or shut a door. We followed them without hesitation, we had neither prudence nor mercy. At last, quite scattered and in the greatest confusion, we reached the first houses, when the fusillade commenced again from the windows, the corners of the streets, and from everywhere. There were the orchards and the gardens and the stone walls which ran along the hill-side, but they were thrown down and demolished, the palisades torn up, and could no longer serve as a shelter or a defence. From the well-barricaded cottages, they still poured their fire upon us. In ten minutes more, we should have been exterminated to the last man; seeing this, the column turned down the hill again, drummers and sappers, officers and soldiers pell-mell, all went without once turning their heads to look back. I jumped over the palisades where I never should have thought it possible at any other time, with my knapsack and cartridge-box at my back; the others followed my example, and we all tumbled in a heap like a falling wall. Once in the road again between the hills, we stopped to breathe. Some stretched themselves on the ground, and others sat down with their backs against the slope. The officers were furious; as if they too had not followed the movement to retreat, and some shouted to bring up the cannon, and others wanted to re-form the troops, though they could scarcely make themselves heard in the midst of the thunder of the artillery which shook the air like a tempest. I saw Jean Buche hurrying back with his bayonet red with blood. He took his place beside me without saying a word, and commenced to reload. Captain Gregoire, Lieutenant Certain, and several sergeants and corporals, and more than a hundred men were left behind in the orchards; and the first two battalions of the column had suffered as much as we. Zebede, with his great crooked nose, white as snow, seeing me at some distance, shouted, "Joseph--no quarter!" Great masses of white smoke rose over the sides of the road. The whole hill-side from Ligny to St. Amand was on fire behind the willows and aspens and poplars. As I crept up on my hands and knees, and looked over the surface of the grain and saw this terrible spectacle, and saw the long black lines of infantry on the top of the hill and near the windmills, and the innumerable cavalry on their flanks ready to fall upon us, I went back thinking: "We shall never rout that army. It fills the villages, and guards the roads, and covers the hill as far as the eye can reach, there are guns everywhere, and it is contrary to reason to persist in such an enterprise." I was indignant and even disgusted with the generals. All this did not take ten minutes. God only knew what had become of our other two columns. The terrible musketry fire on the left, and the volleys of grape and canister which we heard rushing through the air, were no doubt intended for them. I thought we had had our full share of troubles, when Generals Gerard, Vichery, and Schoeffer came riding up at full speed on the road below us, shouting like madmen, "Forward! Forward!" They drew their swords, and there was nothing to do but go. At this moment our batteries on the road below opened their fire on Ligny, the roofs in the village tumbled, and the walls sank, and we rushed forward with the generals at our head with their swords drawn, the drums beating the charge. We shouted, "_Vive l'Empereur_." The Prussian bullets swept us away by dozens, and shot fell like hail, and the drums kept up their "pan-pan-pan." We saw nothing, heard nothing, as we crossed the orchards, nobody paid any attention to those who fell, and in two minutes after, we entered the village, broke in the doors with the butts of our muskets, while the Prussians fired upon us from the windows. It was a thousand times worse in-doors, because yells of rage mingled in the uproar; we rushed into the houses with fixed bayonets and massacred each other without mercy. On every side the cry rose, "No quarter!" The Prussians who were surprised in the first houses we entered, were old soldiers and asked for nothing better. They perfectly understood what "No quarter" meant, and made a most desperate defence. As we reached the third or fourth house on a tolerably wide street on which was a church, and a little bridge farther on, the air was full of smoke from the fires caused by our bombs; great broken tiles and slate were raining down upon us, and everything roared and whistled and cracked, when Zebede, with a terrible look in his eyes, seized me by the arm, shouting, "Come!" We rushed into a large room already filled with soldiers, on the first floor of a house; it was dark, as they had covered the windows with sacks of earth, but we could see a steep wooden stairway at one end, down which the blood was running. We heard musket-shots from above and the flashes each moment showed us five or six of our men sunk in a heap against the balustrade with their arms hanging down, and the others running over their bodies with their bayonets fixed, trying to force their way into the loft. It was horrible to see those men with their bristling mustaches, and brown cheeks, every wrinkle expressing the fury which possessed them, determined to force a passage at any cost. The sight made me furious, and I shouted, "Forward! No quarter!" If I had been near the stairway, I might have been cut to pieces in mounting, but fortunately for me, others were ahead and not one would give up his place. An old fellow, covered with wounds, succeeded in reaching the top of the stairs under the bayonets. As he gained the loft he let go his musket, and seized the balustrade with both hands. Two balls from muskets touching his breast did not make him let go his hold. Three or four others rushed up behind him striving each to be first, and leaped over the top stairs into the loft above. Then followed such an uproar as is impossible to describe, shots followed each other in quick succession, and the shouts and trampling of feet made us think the house was coming down over our heads. Others followed, and when I reached the scene behind Zebede, the room was full of dead and wounded men, the windows were blown out, the walls splashed with blood, and not a Prussian was left on his feet. Five or six of our men were supporting themselves against the different pieces of furniture, smiling ferociously. Nearly all of them had balls or bayonet thrusts in their bodies, but the pleasure of revenge was greater than the pain of their wounds. My hair stands on end when I recall that scene. As soon as Zebede saw that the Prussians were all dead, he went down again, saying to me, "Come, there is nothing more to do here." We went out and found that our column had already passed the church, and thousands of musket-shots crackled against the bridge like the fire breaking out from a coal-pit. The second column had come down the broad street on our right and joined ours, and in the meantime, one of those Prussian columns which we had seen on the hill in the rear of Ligny, came down to drive us out of the village. Here it was that we had the first encounter in force. Two staff officers rode down the street by which we had come. "Those men," said Zebede, "are going to order up the guns. When they arrive, Joseph, you will see whether they can rout us." He ran and I followed him. The fight at the bridge continued. The old church clock struck five. We had destroyed all the Prussians on this side the stream except those who were in ambush in the great old ruin at the left, which was full of holes. It had been set on fire at the top by our howitzers, but the fire continued from the lower stories, and we were obliged to avoid it. In front of the church we were in force. We found the little square filled with troops ready to march, and others were coming by the broad street, which traversed the whole length of Ligny. Only the head of the column was engaged at the little bridge. The Prussians tried hard to repulse them. The discharges in file followed each other like running water. The square was so filled with smoke that we could see nothing but the bayonets, the front of the church, and the officers on the steps giving their orders. Now and then a staff officer would set off at a gallop, and the air round the old slated spire was full of rooks whirling about affrighted with the noise. The cannon at St. Amand roared incessantly. Between the gables on the left, we could see on the hill, the long blue lines of infantry and masses of cavalry coming from Sombref to turn our columns. It was there in our rear that the desperate combats took place between the Uhlans and our hussars. How many of these Uhlans we saw next morning stretched dead on the plain! Our battalion having suffered the most, we fell back to the second rank. We soon found our own company commanded by Captain Florentin. The guns were arriving by the same street on which we were; the horses at full gallop foaming and shaking their heads furiously, while the wheels crushed everything before them. All this produced a tremendous uproar, but the thunder of cannon and the crash of musketry was all that could be distinguished. The soldiers were all shouting and singing, with their guns on their shoulders, but we knew this only by seeing their open mouths. I had just taken my place by the side of Buche and had begun to breathe, when a forward movement began. This time the plan was to cross the little stream, push the Prussians out of Ligny, mount the hill behind and cut their line in two, and the battle would be gained. Each one of us understood that, but with such masses of troops as they held in reserve, it was no small affair. Everything moved toward the bridge, but we could see nothing but the five or six men before us, and I was well satisfied to know that the head of the column was far in front. But I was most delighted when Captain Florentin halted our company in front of an old barn with the door broken down, and posted the remnant of the battalion behind the ruins in order to sustain the attacking columns by firing from the windows. There were fifteen of us in that barn and I can see it now, with the door hanging by one hinge, and battered with the balls, and the ladder running up through a square hole, three or four dead Prussians leaning against the walls, and a window at the other end looking into the street in the rear. Zebede commanded our post, Lieutenant Bretonville occupied the house opposite with another squad, and Captain Florentin went somewhere else. The street was filled with troops quite up to the two corners near the brook. The first thing we tried to do was to put up the door and fasten it, but we had hardly commenced when we heard a terrible crash in the street, and walls, shutters, tiles, and everything were swept away at a stroke. Two of our men who were outside holding up the door, fell as if cut down with a scythe. At the same moment we could hear the steps of the retreating column rolling over the bridge, while a dozen more such explosions made us draw back in spite of ourselves. It was a battery of six pieces charged with canister which Bluecher had masked at the end of the street, and which now opened upon us. The whole column--drummers, soldiers, officers, mounted and foot, were in retreat, pushing and jostling each other, swept along as by a hurricane. Nobody looked back, those who fell were lost. The last ones had hardly passed our door when Zebede, who looked out to see what had happened, shouted in a voice of thunder, "The Prussians!" He fired, and several of us rushed for the ladder, but before we could think of climbing they were upon us. Zebede, Buche, and all who had not had time to get up the ladder drove them back with their bayonets. It seems to me as if I could see those Prussians still, with their big mustaches, their red faces and flat shakos, furious at being checked. I never had such a shock as that. Zebede shouted, "No quarter," just as if we had been the stronger. But immediately he received a blow on the head from the butt of a musket and fell. I saw that he was going to be murdered and I burned for revenge. I shouted, "To the bayonet," and we all fell upon the rascals, while our comrades fired at them from above, and a fusillade commenced from the houses opposite. The Prussians fell back, but a little distance away there was a whole battalion. Buche took Zebede on his shoulders and started up the ladder. We followed him, shouting "Hurry!" while we aided him with all our strength to climb the ladder with his burden. I was next to the last, and I thought we should never get up. We heard the shots already in the barn, but we were up at last, and all inspired with the same idea, we tried to draw the ladder up after us. To our horror we found, as we endeavored to pull it through the opening between the shots, one of which took off the head of a comrade, that it was so large we could not get it into the loft. We hesitated for a moment, when Zebede, recovering himself, exclaimed, "Shoot through the rounds!" This seemed to us an inspiration from heaven. Below us the uproar was terrible. The whole street, as well as our barn, was full of Prussians. They were mad with rage, and worse than we; repeating incessantly, "No prisoners!" They were enraged by the musket-shots from the houses; they broke down the doors, and then we could hear the struggles, the falls, curses in French and German, the orders of Lieutenant Bretonville opposite, and the Prussian officers commanding their men to go and bring straw to fire the houses. Fortunately the harvest was not yet secured, or we should all have been burned. They fired into the floor under our feet, but it was made of thick oak plank and the balls tapped on it like the strokes of a hammer. We stood one behind the other and continued our fire into the street, and every shot told. It appeared as if they had retaken the church square, for we only heard our fire very far away. We were alone, two or three hundred men in the midst of three or four thousand. Then I said to myself, "Joseph! you will never escape from this danger. It is impossible! your end has come!" I dared not think of Catherine, my heart quaked. Our retreat was cut off, the Prussians held both ends of the street and the lanes in the rear, and they had already retaken several houses. Suddenly the hubbub ceased; they were making some preparation we thought; they have gone for straw or fagots or they are going to bring up their guns to demolish us. Our gunners looked out of the window, but they saw nothing, the barn was empty. This dead silence was more terrible than the tumult had been a few minutes before. Zebede had just raised himself up, and the blood was running from his mouth and nose. "Attention! we are going to have another attack. The rascals are getting ready. Charge!" He hardly finished speaking when the whole building, from the gables to the foundation, swayed as if the earth had opened beneath it, and beams and lath and slate came down with the shock, while a red flame burst out under our feet and mounted above the roof. We all fell in a heap. A lighted bomb which the Prussians had rolled into the barn had just exploded. On getting up I heard a whizzing in my ears, but that did not prevent me from seeing a ladder placed at the window of the barn. Buche was using his bayonet with great effect on the invaders. The Prussians thought to profit by our surprise to mount the ladder and butcher us; this made me shudder, but I ran to the assistance of my comrade. Two others who had escaped, ran up shouting, "_Vive l'Empereur!_" I heard nothing more, the noise was frightful. The flashes of the muskets below and from the windows lighted up the street like a moving flame. We had thrown down the ladder, and there were six of us still remaining, two in front who fired the muskets, and four behind who loaded and passed the guns to them. In this extremity I had become calm. I resigned myself to my fate, thinking I would try to sell my own life as dearly as possible. The others no doubt had the same thoughts, and we made great havoc. This lasted about a quarter of an hour, when the cannon began to thunder again, and some seconds after our comrades in front looked out the window and ceased firing. My cartridge-box was nearly empty, and I went to replenish it from those of my dead comrades. The cries of "_Vive l'Empereur!_" came nearer and nearer, when suddenly the head of our column with its flag all blackened and torn, filed into the little square through our street. The Prussians beat a retreat. We all wanted to go down, but two or three times the column recoiled before the grape and canister. The shouts and the thunder of the cannon mingled afresh. Zebede, who was looking out, ran to the ladder. Our column had passed the barn and we all went down in file without regarding our comrades who were wounded by the bursting of the bomb, some of whom begged us piteously not to leave them behind. Such are men! the fear of being taken prisoners, made us barbarians. When we recalled these terrible scenes afterward, we would have given anything if we had had the least heart, but then it was too late. _ |
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