Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II
Page 6
CHAPTER VI. THE MILL ON THE HOLITSCH ROAD
At an early hour on the morning of the 4th came orders for the "Gardea Cheval" to hold themselves in readiness, with two squadrons of thecarabineers, on the road to Holitsch; part of this force being under thecommand of General d'Auvergne. We found ourselves fully equipped and inwaiting soon after eight o'clock. From the "tenue" and appearance ofthe troops, it was evident that no measure of active service wascontemplated; yet, if a review were intended, we could not guess whyso small a force had been selected. As usual on such occasions,many conjectures were hazarded, and a hundred explanations passedcurrent,--one scarcely a whit better than the other, when at last weperceived a peloton of dragoons advancing towards us at a brisk trot.
The word was passed to close up and draw swords; and scarcely was itobeyed when the staff of the Emperor came up. They were all in the fullblaze of their gala uniforms, brilliant with crosses and decorations.Napoleon alone wore the simple costume of the "Chasseurs of the Garde,"with the decoration of the Legion; but his proud look and his flashingeye made him conspicuous above them all. He was mounted on his favoritecharger "Marengo," and seemed to enjoy the high spirit of the mettledanimal, as he tossed his long mane about, and lashed his sides with hisgreat silken tail.
As the cortege passed we closed up the rear, and followed at a sharppace, more than ever puzzled to divine what was going forward. Afterabout two hours' riding, during which we never drew bridle, we saw aparty of staff-officers in front, who, saluting the Emperor, joined thecortege. At the same instant General d'Auvergne passed close beside me,and whispered in my ear. "Bernadotte has just come up, and been mostcoldly received." I wished to ask him what was the object of the wholemovement, but he was gone before I could do so. In less than a quarterof an hour afterwards we left the highroad, and entered upon a largeplain, where the only object I could perceive was an old mill, ruinedand dilapidated. Towards this the imperial staff rode forward, while thepeloton in front wheeled about, and rode to the rear of our squadrons.The next moment we were halted, and drawn up in order of battle.
While these movements were going forward, I remarked that the Emperorhad dismounted from his horse and dismissed his staff, all save MarshalBerthier, who stood at a little distance from him. Several dismounteddragoons were employed in lighting two immense fires,--a process whichNapoleon appeared to watch with great interest for a second or two; andthen, taking out his glass, he remained for several minutes intentlysurveying the great road to Holitsch.
In this direction at once every eye was turned; but nothing could wesee. The road led through a wide open country for some miles, and atlast disappeared in the recesses of a dark pine wood, that covered thehorizon for miles on either side. Meanwhile Napoleon, with his handsclasped behind his back, walked hurriedly backwards and forwards besidethe blazing fires, stopping at intervals to look along the road, andthen resuming his walk as before. He was not more than two hundred pacesfrom where we stood, and I could mark well his gesture of impatience, ashe closed his glass each time, after looking in vain towards Holitsch.
"I say, Burke," whispered one of my brother officers beside me, "Ishould not fancy being the man who keeps him waiting in that fashion.Look at Berthier, how he keeps aloof; he knows that something isbrewing."
"What can it all mean?" said I. "Who can he be expecting here?"
"They say now," whispered my companion, "that Davoust cannot hold thebridge of Goding, and must fall back before the Russian column; andthat Napoleon has invited Alexander to a conference here to gain time toreinforce Davoust."
"Exactly; but the Czar is too wily an enemy for that to succeed; andprobably hence the delay, which appears to irritate him now."
The supposition, more plausible than most of those I heard before, wasstill contradicted by the account of the Emperor Alexander's retreat;and again was I at a loss to reconcile these discrepancies, when Ibeheld Napoleon, with his glass to his eye, motion with his hand forBerthier to come forward. I turned towards the road, and now coulddistinguish in the distance a dark object moving towards us. A fewminutes after the sun shone out, and I remarked the glitter of arms,stretching in a long line; while my companion, with the aid of a glass,called out,--
"I see them plainly; they are lancers. The escort are Hungarians, andthere's a _caleche_, with four horses in front."
The Emperor stood motionless, his arms folded on his breast, and hishead a little leaned forward, exactly as I have seen him represented inso many pictures and statues. His eyes were thrown downwards; and as hestirred the blazing wood with his foot, one could easily perceive howintensely his mind was occupied with deep thought.
The clattering sound of cavalry now turned my attention to anotherquarter; and I saw, exactly in front of us, and about five hundred pacesoff, a regiment of Hungarian Hussars, and some squadrons of Hulans drawnup. I had little time to mark their gorgeous equipment and splendiduniform, for already the _caleche_ had drawn up at the roadside, andPrince John of Lichtenstein, descending, took off his chapeau, andoffered his arm to assist another to alight. Slowly, and, as it seemed,with effort, a tall thin figure, in the white uniform of the AustrianGuard, stepped from the carriage to the ground. The same instant theofficers of the staff fell back, and I saw Napoleon advance withopen arms to embrace him. The Austrian emperor--for it was Francishimself--seemed scarcely able to control the emotion he felt at thismoment; and we could see that his head rested for several seconds onNapoleon's shoulder. And what a moment must that have been! How deeplymust the pride of the descendant of the Caesars have felt the humiliationwhich made him thus a suppliant before one he deemed a mere Corsicanadventurer! What a pang it must have cost his haughty spirit as heuttered the words, _Mon frere!_
As they walked side by side towards the plateau, where the fires werelighted, it was easy to mark that Napoleon was the speaker, whileFrancis merely bowed from time to time, or made a gesture of seemingassent.
As the Emperor arrived at the place of conference, we fell back somefifty yards; and although the air was still and frosty, and the silencewas perfect around, we could not catch a word on either side. Afterabout an hour the conversation appeared to assume a tone of gayety andgood-humor, and we could hear the sovereigns laughing repeatedly.
The conference lasted for above two hours, when once more the emperorsembraced, and, as we thought, with more cordiality, and separated; theEmperor of Austria returning, accompanied by Prince Lichtenstein; whileNapoleon stood for some minutes beside the fire as if musing, and then,beckoning his staff to follow, he walked towards the highroad.
Scarcely had the Austrian emperor reached his carriage, when Savary,bareheaded and breathless, stood beside the door of it. He was thebearer of a message from Napoleon. The next moment the _caleche_started, accompanied by Savary, who, with a single aide-de-camp, tookthe road towards the Austrian headquarters.
As Napoleon was about to mount his horse, I saw General d'Auvergnemove forward towards him. A few words passed between them; and then thegeneral, riding up to where I stood, said,--
"Burke, you are to remain here, and if any orders arrive from GeneralSavary, hasten with them to the headquarters of his Majesty. In twelvehours you will be relieved."
So saying, he galloped back to the imperial staff; and soon after thesquadrons defiled into the road, the cortege dashed forward, and allthat remained of that memorable scene was the dying embers of the firesbeside which the fate of Europe was decided.
The old mill of Holitsch had been deserted when the Austrian and Russiancolumns took up their position before Austerlitz. The miller and hishousehold fled at the first news of the advance, and had not dared toreturn. It was a solitary spot at best: a wild heath, without shelter ofany kind, stretched away for miles on all sides; but now, in itsutter loneliness, it was the most miserable-looking place that can beconceived. While, therefore, I contented myself with the hope that mystay there might not be long, I resolved to do what I could to render myquarters more comfortable.
But a more welcome sight still awaited me, in a small chamber at thetop of the building, where, in large letters, written with chalk onthe door, I read, "Rittmeister von Oxenhausen's quarters." Here, to myexceeding delight, I discovered a neatly-furnished chamber, with abed, sofa, and, better still, a table, on which the remains of theRittmeister's sapper yet stood,--a goodly ham, the greater part of acapon, a loaf of wheaten bread, and an earthenware crock, with a lidof brass, containing about two bottles of Austrian red wine. This was amost agreeable surprise to me,--a pleasant exchange from the meagremeal of bread and cheese I had but time to procure from a sergeant ofmy troop at parting. It need not be supposed that I hesitated long aboutbecoming the Rittmeister's successor; and so I drew the chair to thetable, and the table nearer to the fire,--for, singularly enough, theembers of a wood fire still slumbered on the hearth. Having taken thekeen edge off an appetite the cold air had whetted to the sharpest, Ibegan an inspection of my quarters, first having replenished the firewith some logs of wood.
The chamber was an octagon, with five windows in as many of the faces,a fireplace and two doors occupying the other three. One of thedoors--that by which I entered,--opened from the stairs; the otherled into a granary, or something of that nature,--at least, so Iconjectured, from a heap of sacks which littered the floor, and filledone corner completely. As I could not discover any corn, I resolved onsharing my loaf with my horse,--a meal every campaigning steed is wellaccustomed to make. And now, returning to my little chamber, I resumedmy supper with all the satisfaction of one who felt he had made hisrounds of duty, and might enjoy repose.
As I knew the Chateau de Holitsch, where the Emperor Francis held hisquarters, was some six leagues distant, I guessed that General Savarywas not likely to return from his mission before morning at verysoonest; and so it behooved me to make my arrangements for passing thenight where I was. Having, then, looked to my horse, for whose bedding Imade free with some dozen of the corn-sacks in the granary, I brought upto my own quarters a supply of wood; and having fastened the door, andsecured the windows as well as I was able, I lit my meerschaum, and laydown before the fire in as happy a frame of mind as need be.
Indeed, I began to fancy that fortune had done tormenting, and was nowabout to treat me more kindly. The notice of the Emperor had relieved myheart of a load which never ceased to press on it, and I could not helpfeeling that a fairer prospect was opening before me. It is true, timeand misfortune had both blunted the ardor of enthusiasm with which Istarted in life; the daring aspirations after liberty, the high-souleddesire for personal distinction, had subsided into calmer hopes and lessambitious yearnings. Young as I yet was, I experienced in myself thatchange of sentiment and feeling which comes upon other men later on inlife; and I was gradually reconciling myself to that sense of dutywhich teaches a man well to play his part, in whatever station he maybe called to act, rather than indulge in those overweening wishes forpre-eminence, which in their accomplishment are so often disappointing,and in their failure a source of regret and unhappiness. These feelingswere impressed on me more by the force of events than by any process ofmy own reasoning. The career in which I first started as a boy had ledto nothing but misfortune. The affection I conceived for one,--the onlyone I ever loved,--was destined equally to end unhappily. The passionfor liberty, in which all my first aspirations were centred, had met therude shocks which my own convictions suggested; and now I perceivedthat I must begin life anew, endeavoring to forget the influences whoseshadows darkened my early days, and carve out my destiny in a verydifferent path from what I once intended.
These were my last waking thoughts, as my head sank on my arm, and Ifell into a deep sleep. The falling of a log from the fire awoke mesuddenly. I rubbed my eyes, and for a second or two could not rememberwhere I was. At length I became clearer in mind, and looking at mywatch, perceived it was but two o'clock. As the flame of the replenishedfire threw its light through the room, I remarked that the door intothe granary stood ajar. This struck me as strange. I thought I couldremember shutting it before I went to sleep. Yes,--I recollectedperfectly placing a chair against it, as the latch was bad, and adraught of cold air came in that way; and now the chair was pushed backinto the room, and the door lay open. A vague feeling, half suspicion,half curiosity, kept me thinking of the circumstance, when bychance--the merest chance--my eyes fell upon the table where I had leftmy sabre and my pistols. What was my amazement to find that one of thelatter--that which lay nearest the door--was missing!
In an instant I was on my feet. Nothing can combat drowsiness like thesense of fear; and I became perfectly awake in a moment. Examining theroom with caution, I found everything in the same state as I had leftit, save the door and the missing pistol. The granary alone, then, couldbe the shelter of the invader, whoever he might be. What was to be done?I was totally unprovided with light, save what the fire afforded; andeven were it otherwise, I should expose myself by carrying one, longbefore I could hope to detect a concealed enemy. The best plan I couldhit upon seemed to secure the door once more; and then, placing myselfin such a position as not to be commanded by it again, to wait formorning patiently. This then, I did at once; and having examined myremaining pistol, and found the charge and priming all safe, I drewmy sabre, and sat down between the door and the window, but so that itshould open against me.
Few sensations are more acutely painful than the exercise of the hearingwhen pushed to intensity. The unceasing effort to catch the slightestsound soon becomes fatigue, and as the organ grows weary, the mentalanxiety grows more acute; and then begins a struggle between the failingsense and the excited brain. The spectral images of the eye in fever arenot one half so terrible as the strange discordant tones that jarupon the tympanum in such a state as this. Each inanimate object seemsendowed with its own power of voice, and whispering noises come stealingthrough the dead silence of midnight.
In this state of almost frenzied anxiety I sat long,--my eyes turnedtowards the door, which oftentimes I fancied I could perceive to move.At length the thought occurred to me, that by affecting sleep, if anyone lay concealed within whose object was to enter the room, this wouldprobably induce him.
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I had not long to wait for the success of my scheme. The long-drawnbreathing of my seeming slumber was not continued for more than a fewminutes, when I saw the door slowly, almost imperceptibly, move. Atfirst it stirred inch by inch; then gradually it opened wider and widertill it met the obstacle of the chair. There now came a pause of severalseconds, during which it demanded all my efforts to sustain mypart,--the throbbing at my throat and temples increasing almost beyondendurance, and the impulse to dash forward, and flinging wide the door,confront my enemy, being nearly too much for my resistance. Again itmoved noiselessly as before; and then a hand stole out, and, laying holdof the chair, pushed it slowly backwards. The gray light of the breakingday fell upon the spot, and I could see that the cuff of the coat waslaced with gold.
This time my anxiety became intense. Another second or two and I shouldbe engaged in the conflict,--I knew not against how many. I clutched mysabre more fairly in my grasp, as my breathing gr
ew thicker and shorter.The chair still continued to slide silently into the room, and alreadythe arm of the man within protruded. Now was the moment, or never; andwith a spring, I threw myself on it, and, pinioning the wrist in myhands, held it down upon the floor while I opposed my weight against thedoor.
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Quick as lightning the other hand appeared, armed with a pistol; and Ihad but a moment to crouch my head nearly to the ground when a bulletwhizzed past and smashed through the window behind me, while witha crash the frail door gave way to a strong push, and a man sprangfiercely forward to seize me by the throat. Jumping backward, Irecovered my feet; but before I could raise my pistol he made a springat me, and we both rolled together on the floor. On the pistol both ourhands met, and the struggle was for the weapon.
Twice was it pointed at my heart; but my hand held the lock, and notall his efforts could unclasp it. At last I freed my right hand from thesword-knot of my sabre, and striking him with my clenched knuckles onthe forehead, threw him back. His grasp relaxed at the instant, and Iwrenched the pistol from his fingers, and placed the muzzle against hischest.
Another second and he would have rolled a corpse before me, when, to myhorror and amazement, I saw in my antagonist my once friend, _Henri deBeauvais_. I flung the weapon from me, as I cried out, "De Beauvais,forgive me! forgive me!"
A deathly paleness came over his features; his eyes grew glazed andfilmy, and with a low groan he fell fainting on the floor. I bathedhis temples with water; I moistened his pale lips; I rubbed his clammyfingers. But it was long before he rallied; and when he did come tohimself and looked up, he closed his eyes again, as though the sight ofme was worse than death itself.
"Come, Henri!" said I, "a cup of wine, my friend, and you will be betterpresently. Thank God, this has not ended as it might."
He raised his eyes towards me, but with a look of proud and unforgivingsternness, while he uttered not a word.
"It is unfair to blame me, De Beauvais, for this," said I. "Once more Isay, forgive me!"
His lips moved, and some sounds came forth, but I could not hear thewords.
"There, there," cried I; "it's past and over now. Here is my hand."
"You struck me with that hand," said he, in a deep, distinct voice, asthough every word came from the very bottom of his chest.
"And if I did, Henri, my own life was on the blow."
"Oh that you had taken mine with it!" said he, with a bitterness I cannever forget. "I am the first of my name that ever received a blow;would I were to be the last!"
"You forget, De Beauvais--"
"No, sir; I forget nothing. Be assured, too, I never shall forgetthis night. With any other than yourself I should not despair of thatatonement for an injury which alone can wash out such a stain; but_you_,--I know you well,--_you_ will not give me this."
"You are right, De Beauvais; I will not," said I, calmly. "Sorry am Ithat even an accident should have brought us into collision. It is amischance I feel deeply, and shall for many a day."
"And I, sir," cried he, as, starting up, his eyes flashed with passionand his cheek grew scarlet,--"and I, sir!--what are to be my feelings?Think you, that because I am an exile and an outcast,--forcedby misfortune to wear the livery of one who is not my rightfulsovereign,--that my sense of personal honor is the less, and that themark of an insult is not as blood-stained on my conscience as ever itwas?"
"Nothing but passion could blind you to the fact that there can be noinsult where no intention could exist."
"Spare me your casuistry, sir," replied he, with an insolent wave of hishand, while he sank into a chair, and laid his head upon the table.
For an instant my temper, provoked beyond endurance, was about to giveway, when I perceived that a handkerchief was bound tightly around hisleg above the knee, where a great stain of blood marked his trouser. Thethought of his being wounded banished every particle of resentment, andlaying my hand on his shoulder, I said,--
"De Beauvais, I know not one but yourself to whom I would three timessay, forgive me. But we were friends once, when we were both happier.For the sake of him who is no more,--poor Charles de Meudon--"
"A traitor, sir,--a base traitor to the king of his fathers!"
"This I will not endure!" said I, passionately. "No one shall dare--"
"Dare!"
"Ay, dare, sir!--such was the word. To asperse the memory of one likehim is to dare that which no man can, with truth and honor."
"Come, sir, I'm ready," said Be Beauvais, rising, and pointing to thedoor, "Sortons!"
No one who has not heard that one word pronounced by the lips of aFrenchman can conceive how much of savage enmity and deadly purposeit implies. It is the challenge which, if unaccepted, stamps cowardiceforever on the man who declines it: from that hour all equality ceasesbetween those whom a combat had placed on the same footing.
"Sortons!" The word rang in my ears, and tingled through my very heart,while a host of different impulses swayed me,--shame, sorrow, woundedpride, all struggling for the mastery: but above them all, a betterand a higher spirit,--the firm resolve, come what would, to suffer noprovocation De Beauvais could offer, to make me stand opposite to him asan enemy.
"What am I to think, sir?" said he, with a voice scarcely articulatefrom passion,--"what am I to think of your hesitation? or why do youstand inactive here? Is it that you are meditating what new insult canbe added to those you have heaped on me?"
"No, sir," I replied, firmly; "so far from thinking of offence, I am buttoo sorry for the words I have already spoken. I should have remembered,and remembering, should have made allowance for, the strength ofpartisan feelings, which have their origin in a noble, but, as Ibelieve, a mistaken source."
"Indeed!" interrupted he, in mockery. "Is it, then, come to this? AmI, a Frenchman born, to be lectured on my loyalty and allegiance by aforeign mercenary?"
"Not even that taunt, De Beauvais, shall avail you anything. I am firmin my resolve."
"_Pardieu!_ then," cried he, with savage energy, "there remains butthis!"
As he spoke, he leaped from his chair, and sprang towards me. In sodoing, however, his knee struck the table, and with a groan of agony,he reeled back and fell on the floor, while from his reopened wound atorrent of blood gushed out and deluged the room.
For a second or two he motioned me away with his hand; but as hisweakness increased, he lay passive and unresisting, and suffered me toarrest the bleeding by such means as I was able to practise.
It was a long time ere I could stanch the gaping orifice, which had beeninflicted by a sabre, and cut clean through the high boot and deep intothe thigh. Fortunately for his recovery, he had himself succeeded ingetting off the boot before, and the wound lay open to my surgicalskill. Lifting him cautiously in my arms, I laid him on the bed, andmoistened his lips with a little wine. Still the debility continued,--nosigns of returning strength were there; but his features, pale andfallen, were glazed with a cold sweat that hung in heavy drops upon hisbrow and forehead.
Never was agony like mine. I saw his life was ebbing fast; therespiration was growing fainter and more irregular; his pulse couldscarce be felt; yet dare I not leave my post to seek for assistance. Ahundred thoughts whirled through my puzzled brain, and among the rest,the self-accusing one that I was the cause of his death. "Yes," thoughtI, "better far to have stood before his pistol, at all the hazard of mylife, than see him thus."
In an instant all his angry speeches and his insulting gestures wereforgotten. He looked so like what I once knew him, that my mind waswandering back again to former scenes and times, and all resentment waslost in the flood of memory. Poor fellow! what a sad destiny was his!fighting against the arms of his country,--a mourner over the triumphsof his native land! Alien that I was, this pang at least was spared me.
As these thoughts crossed my mind, I felt him press my hand. Overjoyed,I knelt down and whispered some words in his ear.
"No, no," muttered he, in a low, plaintive tone; "not al
l lost,--notall! La Vendee yet remains!" He was dreaming.