CHAPTER V. A MAITRE D'ARMES.
The day after the battle of Austerlitz the Prince of Lichtensteinarrived in our camp, with, as it was rumored, proposals for a peace.The negotiations, whatever they were, were strictly secret, not eventhe marshals themselves being admitted to Napoleon's confidence on thisoccasion. Soon after mid-day, a great body of the Guard who had been inreserve the previous day were drawn up in order of battle, presenting anarray of several thousand men, whose dress, look, and equipment, freshas if on parade before the Tuileries, could not fail to strike theAustrian envoy with amazement. Everything that could indicate theappearance of suffering, or even fatigue, among the troops, wassedulously kept out of view. Such of the cavalry regiments as sufferedleast in the battle were under arms; while the generals of divisionreceived orders to have their respective staffs fully equipped andmounted, as if on a day of review.
It was late in the afternoon when the word was passed along the linesto stand to arms; and the moment after a _caleche_, drawn by six horses,passed in full gallop, and took the road towards Austerlitz. The returnof the Austrian envoy set a thousand conjectures in motion, and all wereeager to find out what had been the result of his mission.
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"We must soon learn it all," said an old colonel of artillery near me."If the game be war, we shall be called up to assist Davoust's movementon Goeding. The Russians have but one line of retreat, and that isalready in our possession."
"I cannot for the life of me understand the Emperor's inaction," said ayounger officer; "here we remain just as if nothing had been done. Onewould suppose that a Russian army stood in full force before us, andthat we had not gained a tremendous battle."
"Depend on it, Auguste," said the old officer, smiling, "his Majesty isnot the man to let slip his golden opportunities. If we don't advance,it is because it is safer to remain where we are."
"Safer than pursue a flying enemy?"
"Even so. It is not Russia, nor Austria, we have in the field againstus; but Europe,--the world."
"With all my heart," retorted the other, boldly; "nor do I think theodds unfair. All I would ask is, the General Bonaparte of Cairo orMarengo, and not the purple-clad Emperor of the Tuileries."
"It is not while the plain is yet reeking with the blood of Austerlitzthat such a reproach should be spoken," said I, indignantly. "Never wasBonaparte greater than Napoleon."
"Monsieur has served in Egypt?" said the young man, contemptuously,while he measured me from head to foot.
"Would that I had! Would that I could give whatever years I may havebefore me, for those whose every day shall live in history!"
"You are right, young man," said the old colonel; "they were glorioustimes, and a worthy prelude to the greatness that followed them."
"A bright promise of the future,--never to come," rejoined the younger,with a flash of anger on his cheek.
"_Parbleu_, sir, you speak boldly!" said a harsh, low voice from behind.We turned: it was Napoleon, dressed in a gray coat, all covered withfur, and looking like one of the couriers of the army. "I did not knowmy measures were so freely canvassed as I find them. Who are you, sir?"
"Legrange, Sire, chef d'escadron of the Second Voltigeurs," said theyoung man, trembling from head to foot while he uncovered his head, andstood, cap in hand, before him.
"Since when, sir, have I called you into my counsels and asked youradvice? or what is it in your position which entitles you to questionone in mine? Duroc, come here. Your sword, sir!"
The young man let fall his shako from his hand, and laid it on hissword-hilt.
"Ah!" cried the Emperor, suddenly; "what became of your right arm?"
"I left it at Aboukir, Sire."
Napoleon muttered something between his teeth; then added, aloud,--
"Come, sir, you are not the first whose hand has saved his head. Returnto your duty, and, mark me! be satisfied with doing yours, and leave meto mine. And you, sir," said he, turning towards me, and using the sameharsh tone of voice, "I should know your face."
"Lieutenant Burke, of the Eighth Hussars."
"Ah! I remember,--the Chouanist. So, sir, it seems that I stand somewhathigher in your esteem than when you kept company with Messieurs Georgesand Pichegru, eh?"
"No, Sire; your Majesty ever occupied the first place in my admirationand devotion."
"_Sacristi!_ then you took a strange way to show it when first I had thepleasure of your acquaintance. You are on General St. Hilaire's staff?"
"General d'Auvergne's, Sire."
"True. D'Auvergne, a word with you."
He turned and whispered something to the old general, who during thewhole colloquy stood at his back, anxious but not daring to interpose aword.
"Well, well," said Napoleon, in a voice of much kinder accent, "Iam satisfied. Your general, sir, reports favorably of your zeal andcapacity. I do not desire to let your former conduct prove any bar toyour advancement; and on his recommendation, of which I trust you mayprove yourself worthy, I name you to a troop in your own regiment."
"And still to serve on my staff?" said the general, half questioning theEmperor.
"As you wish it, D'Auvergne."
With that he moved forward ere I could do more than express my gratitudeby a respectful bow.
"I told you, Burke, the time would come for this," said D'Auvergne, ashe pressed my hand warmly, and followed the cortege of the Emperor.
Hitherto I had lived an almost isolated life. My staff duties had soseparated me from my brother officers that I only knew them by name;while the other aides-de-camp of the general were men much older thanmyself, and with none of them had I formed any intimacy whatever. Itwas not without a sense of this loneliness that I now thought over mypromotion. The absence of those who sympathize with our moments of joyand sorrow reduces our enjoyment to a narrow limit indeed. The only oneof all I knew who would really have felt happy in my advancement waspoor Pioche. He was beyond every thought of pleasure or grief.
Thus reflecting, I turned towards my quarters at Brunn. It was evening:the watchfires were lighted, and round them sat groups of soldiers attheir supper, chatting away pleasantly, and recounting the events of thebattle. Many had been slightly wounded, and by their bandaged foreheadsand disabled arms claimed a marked pre-eminence above the rest. Astraw bivouac, with its great blazing fire in front, would denote someofficer's quarters; and here were generally some eight or ten assembled,while the savory odor of some smoking dish, and the merry laughter,proclaimed that feasting was not excluded from the life of a campaign.
As I passed one of these I heard the tones of a voice which, well known,had somehow not been heard by me for many a day before. Who could it be?I listened, but in vain. I asked myself whose was it. I dismounted, andleading my horse by the bridle, passed before the hut. The strong lightof the blazing wood lit up the interior, and showed me a party ofabout a dozen officers, seated and lying on a heap of straw, occupiedin discussing a supper, which, however wanting in all the elegancies oftable equipment, even where I stood had a most appetizing odor. Variousdrinking vessels, some of them silver, passed from hand to handrapidly; and the clinking of cups proclaimed that, although of differentregiments,--as I saw they were,--a kindly feeling united them.
"Well, Francois," said the same voice, whose accents were so familiar tome without my being able to say why,--"well, Francois, you have not toldus how it happened."
"Easily enough," said another; "he broke my blade in his back, andgave point afterwards and ran me through the chest." It was the maitred'armes of the Fourth, my old antagonist, who said this, and I drew nearto hear the remainder. "You could not call the thing unfair," continuedhe; "but, after all, no one ever heard of such a _passe_."
"I could have told you of it, though," rejoined the other; "for Iremember once, in the fencing school at the Polytechnique, I saw himcatch his antagonist's blade in his sleeve, and when he had it secure,snap it across, and then thrust home with his own. _Parbleu!_ h
e lost acoat by it; and I believe, at the time, poor fellow, he could ill spareit."
This story, which was told of myself, was an incident which occurred ina school duel, and was only known to two or three others; and again wasI puzzled to think which of my former companions the speaker could be.My curiosity was now stronger than aught else; and so, affecting to seeka light for my cigar, I approached the blaze.
"Halloo, Comrade! a cup of wine with you," cried out a voice fromwithin; "Melniker is no bad drinking--"
"When Chambertin can't be had," said another, handing me a goblet of redwine.
"_Par Saint Denis!_ it's the very man himself," shouted a third. "Why,Burke, my old comrade, do you forget Tascher?"
"What!" said I, in amazement, turning from one to the other of themustached faces, and unable to discover my former friend, while theylaughed loud and long at my embarrassment.
"Make way for him there; make way, lads! Come, Burke, here's yourplace," said he, stretching out his hand and pressing me down beside himon the straw. "So you did not remember me?"
In truth, there was enough of change in his appearance since last I sawhim to warrant my forgetfulness. A dark, bushy beard, worn cuirassierfashion, around the mouth and high on the cheeks, almost concealed hisface, while in figure he had grown both taller and stouter.
"Art colonel of the Eighth Regiment?" said he, laughing; "you know Ipromised you were to be, when we were to meet again."
"No; but, if I mistake not," said a hussar officer opposite, "monsieuris in the way to become so. Were you not named to a troop, about half anhour ago, by the Emperor himself?"
"Yes!" said I, with an effort to suppress my pride.
"_Diantre bleu!_" exclaimed Tascher, "what good fortune you always haveI I wish you joy of it, with all my heart. I say, Comrades, let us drownhis commission for him."
"Agreed! agreed!" cried they all in a breath. "Francois will make us abowl of punch for the occasion."
"Most willingly," said the little maitre d'armes. "Monsieur leCapitaine, I am sure, bears me no ill-will for our little affair. Ithought not," added he, seizing my hand in both his. "_Ma foi!_ youspoiled my tierce for me; I shall never be the same man again. Now,gentlemen, pass down the brandy, and let the man with most credit goseek for sugar at the canteen."
While Francois commenced his operations, Tascher proceeded to recount tome the miserable life he had spent in garrison towns, till the outbreakof the campaign had called him on active service.
"It was no use that I asked the Empress to intercede for me, and get meappointed to another regiment; being the nephew of Napoleon seemed toset a complete bar to my advancement. Even now," said he, "my name hasbeen sent forward by my colonel for promotion, and I wager you fiftyNaps I shall be passed over."
"And what if you be?" said a huge, heavy-browed major beside him; "whatgreat hardship is it to be a lieutenant in the cuirassiers at two andtwenty? I was a sergeant ten years later."
"Ay, _parbleu!_" cried another, "I won my epaulettes at Cairo, whenthree officers were reported living, in a whole regiment."
"To be sure," said Francois, looking up from his operation oflemon-squeezing; "here am I, a maitre d'armes, after twenty-six years'service; and there's Davoust, who never could stand before me, he's ageneral of brigade."
The whole party laughed aloud at the grievances of Maitre Francois,whose seriousness on the subject was perfectly real.
"Ah; you may laugh," said he, half in pique; "but what a mereaccident can determine a man's fortune in life! Would Junot there be amajor-general to-day if he did not measure six feet without his boots?We were at school together, and, _ma foi!_ he was always at the bottomof the class."
"And so, Francois, it was your size, then, that stopped your promotion?"
"Of course it was. When a man is but five feet--with high heels, too--hecan only be advanced as a maitre d'armes. _Parbleu!_ what should I benow if I had only grown a little taller?"
"It is all better as it is," growled out an old captain, between thepuffs of his meerschaum. "If thou wert an inch bigger, there would be'no living in the same brigade with thee."
"For all that," rejoined Maitre Francois, "I have put many a prettyfellow his full length on the grass."
"How many duels, Francois, did you tell us, the other evening, that youfought in the Twenty-second?"
"Seventy-eight!" said the little man; "not to speak of two affairswhich, I am ashamed to confess, were with the broadsword; but they werefellows from Alsace, and they knew no better."
"_Tonnerre de ciel!_" cried the major, "a little devil like that isa perfect plague in a regiment. I remember we had a fellow calledPiccotin--"
"Ah! Piccotin; poor Piccotin! We were foster-brothers," interruptedFrancois; "we were both from Chalons-sur-Marne."
"Egad! I 'd have sworn you were," rejoined the major. "One might havethought ye were twins."
"People often said so," responded Francois, with as much composure asthough a compliment had been intended. "We both had the same coloredhair and eyes, the same military air, and gave the _passe en tierce_always outside the guard exactly in the same way."
"What became of Piccotin?" asked the major. "He left us at Lyons.""You never heard, then, what became of him?" "No. We knew he joinedthe _chasseurs a pied_." "I can tell you, then," said Francois; "no oneknows better. I parted from Piccotin when we were ordered to Egypt. Wedid our best to obtain service in the same brigade, for we were likebrothers, but we could not manage it; and so, with sad hearts, weseparated,--he to return to France, I to sail for Alexandria. Thiswas in the spring of 1798, or, as we called it, the year Six of theRepublic. For three years we never met; but when the eighth demi-brigadereturned from Egypt, we went into garrison at Bayonne, and the first manI saw on the ramparts was Piccotin himself. There was no mistaking him;you know the way he had of walking with a long stride, rising on hisinstep at every step, squaring his elbows, and turning his head fromside to side, just to see if any one was pleased to smile, or even somuch as to look closely at him. Ah, _ma foi!_ little Piccotin knew howto treat such as well as any one. Methinks I see him approaching his manwith a slide and a bow, and then, taking off his cap, I hear him say, inhis mildest tone, 'Monsieur assuredly did not intend that stare and thatgrimace for me. I know I must have deceived myself. Monsieur is only afool; he never meant to be impertinent.' Then, _parbleu!_ what astorm would come on, and how cool was Piccotin the whole time! Howscrupulously timid he would be of misspelling the gentleman's name,or misplacing an accent over it! How delicately he would inquire hisaddress, as if the curiosity was only pardonable I And then with whatcourtesy he would take his leave, retiring half a dozen paces beforehe ventured to turn his back on the man he was determined to kill nextmorning!"
"Quite true; perfectly true, Francois," said the major; "Piccotin didthe thing with the most admirable temper and good-breeding."
"That was the tone of Chalons when we were both boys," said Francois,proudly; "he and I were reared together."
He finished a bumper of wine as he made this satisfactory explanation,and looked round at the company with the air of a conqueror.
"Piccotin saw me as quickly as I perceived him, and the minute after wewere in each other's arms. 'Ah! _mon cher!_ how many?' said he to me, assoon as the first burst of enthusiasm had subsided.
"'Only eighteen,' said I, sadly; 'but two were Mamelukes of the Guard.'
"'Thou wert ever fortunate, Francois,' he replied, wiping his eyes withemotion; 'I have never pinked any but Christians.'
"'Come, come,' said I, 'don't be down-hearted; good times are coming.They say Le Petit Caporal will have us in England soon.'
"'Mayhap,' said he, sorrowfully, for he could not get over my Turks.Well, in order to cheer him up a little, I proposed that we should goand sup together at the 'Grenadier Rouge;' and away we went accordingly.
"It would amuse you, perhaps," said Maitre Francois, "were I to tellsome of the stories we related to each other at night. We both hadhad our shar
e of adventure since we met, and some droll ones among thenumber. However, that is not the question at present. We sat late; solate that they came to close the cafe at last, and we were obliged todepart. You know the 'Grenadier Rouge,' don't you?"
"Yes, I know it well," replied the major; "it's over the glacis, about amile outside the barrier."
"Just so; and there's a pleasant walk across the glacis to the gate. AsPiccotin and I set out together on our way to the town, the night wascalm and mild; a soft moonlight shed a silvery tint over every object,and left the stately poplars to throw a still longer shadow on thesmooth grass. For some time we walked along without speaking; thesilence of the night, the fragrant air, the mellow light, were allsoft and tranquillizing influences, and we sank each into his ownreflections.
"When we reached the middle of the plain,--you know the spot, I'm sure;there's a little bronze fountain, with four cedars round it," (the majornodded, and he resumed),--"Piccotin came to a sudden halt, and seizingmy hand in both of his, said, 'Francois, canst thou guess what I 'mthinking of?'
"I looked at him, and I looked around me, and after a few seconds' pauseI answered, 'Yes, Piccotin, I know it; it is a lovely spot.'
"'Never was anything like it!' cried he, in a rapture; 'look at theturf, smooth as velvet, and yet soft to the foot; see the trees, howthey fall back to give the light admittance; and there, that littlefountain, if one felt thirsty, eh! What say you?'
"'Agreed,' said I, grasping him by both hands; 'for this once; onceonly, Piccotin.'
"'Only once, Francois; a few passes, and no more.'
"'Just so; the first touch.'
"'Exactly; the first touch,' said he, as, taking off his cloak, andfolding it neatly, he laid it on the grass.
"It was a strange thing, but in all our lives, from earliest boyhood up,we never had measured swords together; and though we were both maitresd'armes, we never crossed blades, even in jest. Often and often had ourcomrades pitted us against each other, and laid wagers on the result,but we never would consent to meet; I cannot say why. It was not fear; Iknow not how to account for it, but such was the fact.
"'What blade do you wear, Francois?' said he, approaching me, as Iarranged my jacket and vest, with my cap, on the ground.
"'A Rouen steel,' said I; 'too limber for most men, but I am soaccustomed to it, I prefer it.'
"'Ah! a pretty weapon indeed,' said he, drawing it from the scabbard,and making one or two passes with it against an elder trunk. 'Was thisthe blade you had with you in Egypt?'
"'Yes; I have worn none other for eight years.'
"'Ah, _ma foi!_ those Mamelukes. How I envy you those Mamelukes!' hemuttered to himself, as he walked back to his place.
"'Move a little, a very little, to the left; there's a shadow from thattree. Can you see me well?' said I.
"'Perfectly; are you ready? Well; _en garde!_'
"Piccotin's forte, I soon saw, lay in the long meditated attack, whereeach movement was part of an artfully devised series; and I perceivedthat he suffered his adversary to gain several trifling advantages, byway of giving him a false confidence, biding his own time to play offthe scores. In this description of fence he was more than my equal._My_ strength was in the skirmishing passages, where most men lunge atrandom; then, no matter how confused the rally, I was as cool as in thesalute.
"For some time I permitted him to play his game out; and certainlynothing could be more beautiful than his passes over the hilt. Twice heplanted his point within an inch of my bosom; and nothing but a springbackwards would have saved me.
"At length, after a long-contested struggle, he made a feint within, andthen without, the guard, and succeeded in touching my sword-arm, abovethe wrist.
"'A touch, I believe,' said he.
"'A mere nothing,' said I; for although I felt the blood running downmy sleeve, and oozing between my fingers, I was annoyed to think he hadmade the first hit.
"'Ah, Francois, these Mamelukes were not of the premiereforce, after all. I have only been jesting all this time; see here.'With that he closed on me, in a very different style from his formerattack. Pushing and parrying with the rapidity of lightning, he evinceda skill in 'skirmish' I did not believe him possessed of. In this,however, I was his master; and in a few seconds gave him my pointsharply, but not deeply, in the shoulder. Instead of dropping hisweapon when he received mine, he returned the thrust. I parried it,and touched him again, a little lower down. He winced this time, andmuttered something I could not catch. 'You shall have it now,' said he,aloud; 'I owe you this,--and this.' True to his word, he twice piercedme in the back, outside the guard. Encouraged by success, he againclosed on me; while I, piqued by his last assault, advanced to meet him.
"Our tempers were both excited; but his far more than mine. The strugglewas a severe one. Three several times his blade passed between my armand my body; and at last after a desperate rally, he dropped on oneknee, and gave me the point here, beneath the chest. Before he couldextricate his blade, I plunged mine into his chest, and pushed till Iheard the hilt come clink against his ribs. The blood spurted upwards,over my face and breast, as he fell backwards. I wiped it hurriedly frommy eyes, and bent over him. He gave a shudder and a little faint moan,and all was still."
"You killed him?" cried out three or four of us together.
"_Ma foi!_ yes. The 'coup' was mortal; he never stirred after. As forme," continued Francois, "I surrendered myself a prisoner to theofficer on guard at the gate. I was tried ten days after by a militarycommission, and acquitted. My own evidence was my accusationand my defence."
"_Ventrebleu!_ had I been on the court-martial, you had not been hereto tell the story," said the old major, as his face became almost purplewith passion.
"Nonsense!" said Tascher, jeeringly. "What signifies a maitre d'armesthe more or the less?"
"Monsieur will probably explain himself," said Francois, with one of hiscold smiles of excessive deference.
"It is exactly what I mean to do, Francois."
"Come, sirs, none of this," broke in the major. "Lieutenant Tascher,you may not fancy being placed under an arrest when the enemy is in thefield. Master Francois, do you forget the sentence of a court-martial ishanging over your head for an affair at Elchingen, where you insulted ayoung officer of the hussars?"
"In that case I must be permitted to say that Maitre Francois conductedhimself like a man of honor," said I.
"_Parbleu!_ and got the worst of it besides," cried he, placing his handon his hip. The tone of his voice as he said this, and the grimace hemade, restored the party once more to good-humor, and we chatted awaypleasantly till day was breaking.
As Tascher strolled along with me towards my quarters, I was rejoicedto discover that he had never heard of my name as being mixed up in theChouan conspiracy; nor was he aware with how little reason he believedme to be favored by fortune.
I received, however, all his congratulations without any desire toundeceive him. Already had I learned the worldly lesson, that whilefriends cling closer in adversity, your mere acquaintance deems yourpopularity your greatest merit; and I at length perceived that, howeverungenial in many respects the companionship, the life of isolation Iled had rendered me suspected by others, and in a career, too, wherefrankness was considered the first of virtues.
I assented at once with pleasure to the prospect of our meetingfrequently while in camp. My own regiment had joined Davoust's corps,and I was glad to have the society of some others of my own age, if onlyto wean myself from my habits of solitude. While I formed these plansfor the future, I little anticipated what events were in store forme, nor how soon I should be thrown among scenes and people totallydifferent from those with which I had ever mixed before.
"You mess with us, then, Burke,--that's agreed," said Tascher. "They 'reexcellent fellows, these cuirassiers of ours, and I know you 'll likethem."
With this promise we parted, hoping to meet on the morrow.
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II Page 5
