Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume Ii Part 32

Almost every man has experienced the fact, that there are times in life when impressions, the slightest in their origin, will have an undue weight on the mind; when, as it were, the clay of our natures become softened, and we take the impress of pa.s.sing events more easily. Some vague and shadowy conception--a doubt, a dream--is enough at moments like these to attain the whole force of a conviction; and it is wonderful with what ingenuity we wind to our purpose every circ.u.mstance around us, and what pains we take to increase the toils of our self-deception. It would be a curious thing to trace out how much of our good or evil fortune in life had its source in these superst.i.tions; how far the frame of mind fashioned the events before it; and to what extent our hopes and fears were but the forerunners of destiny.

My sleeping thoughts were of the saddest; and when I awoke, I could not shake them off. A heavy, dense fog clothed every object around, through which only the watchfires were visible, as they flared with a yellow, hazy light of unnatural size. The position of these signals was only to mark the inequality of the ground: and I now could perceive that we occupied the crest of a long and steep hill, down the sides and at the bottom of which fires were also burning; while in front another mountain arose, whose summit for a great distance was marked out by watchfires.

This I conjectured, from its extent and position, to be the Prussian line.

At the front of the Emperor's quarters several led horses were standing, whose caparison bespoke them as belonging to the staff; and although not yet five o'clock, there was an appearance of movement which indicated preparation. The troops, however, were motionless; the dense columns covered the ground like a garment, and stirred not. As I stood, uncertain what course to take, I heard the noise of voices and the heavy tramp of many feet near, and on turning perceived it was the Emperor, who came forth from his tent, followed by several of his staff. A large fire blazed in front of his bivouac, which threw its long light on the group; where, even in a fleeting glance, I recognized General Gazan, and Nansouty, the commander of the Cuira.s.siers of the Guard.

"What hour is it?" said the Emperor to Duroc, who stood near him.

"Almost five o'clock, Sire."

"It is darker than it was an hour ago. Maison, where is Bernadotte by this?--at Domberg, think you?"

"Not yet, Sire; he is no laggard if he reach it in three hours hence."

"Ney would have been there now," was the quick reply of Napoleon. "Come, gentlemen, into the saddle, and let us move towards the front. Gazan, put your division under arms."

The general waited not a second bidding, but wheeled his horse suddenly round, and followed by his aide-decamp, rode at full speed down the mountain.

"There is the first streak of day," said the Emperor, pointing to a faint gray light above the distant forest; "it breaks like Austerlitz."

"May it set as gloriously!" said old Nansouty, in his deep low voice.

"And it will," said Napoleon. "What sayest thou, _grognard?_" continued he, turning with an affected severity of manner to the grenadier who stood sentinel on the spot, and who, with a French soldier's easy indifference, leaned on the cross of his musket to listen to the conversation; "what sayest thou? Art eager to be made corporal?"

"_Parbleu!_" growled out the rough soldier, "the grade is little to boast of; were I even a general of division, there might be something to hope for."

"What then?" said Napoleon, sharply, "what then?"

"King of Prussia, to be sure; thou 'lt give away the t.i.tle before this hour to-morrow."

The Emperor laughed aloud at the conceit. Its flattery had a charm for him no courtier's well-turned compliment could vie with; and I could hear him still continuing to enjoy it as he rode slowly forward and disappeared in the gloom.

CHAPTER XXIII. JENA AND AUERSTaDT.

"He has forgotten me!" said I, half aloud, as I watched the retiring figures of the Emperor and his staff till they were concealed by the mist; "he has forgotten me! Now to find out my brigade. A great battle is before us, and there may still be a way to refresh his memory." With such thoughts I set forward in the direction of the picket-fires, full sure that I should meet some skirmishers of our cavalry there.

As I went, the drums were beating towards the distant left, and gradually the sounds crept nearer and nearer, as the infantry battalions began to form and collect their stragglers. A dense fog seemed to shut out the dawn, and with a thin and misty rain, the heavy vapor settled down upon the earth, wrapping all things in a darkness deep as night itself. From none could I learn any intelligence of the cavalry quarter, nor had any of those I questioned seen hors.e.m.e.n pa.s.s near them.

"The voltigeurs in the valley yonder may perhaps tell you something,"

said an officer to me, pointing to some fires in a deep glen beneath us.

And thither I now bent my steps.

The dull rolling of the drums gradually swelled into one continued roar, through which the clank of steel and the tremulous tramp of marching columns could be heard. Spirit-stirring echoes were they, these awakening sounds of coming conflict! and how they nerved my heart, and set it bounding again with a soldier's ardor! As I descended the hill, the noise became gradually fainter, till at length I found myself in a narrow ravine, still and silent as the grave itself. The transition was so sudden and unexpected, that for a moment I felt a sense of loneliness and depression; and the thought struck me, "What if I have pushed on too far? Can it be that I have pa.s.sed our lines? But the officer spoke of the voltigeurs in front; I had seen the fires myself; there could be no doubt about it." I now increased my speed, and in less than half an hour gained a spot where the ground became more open and extended in front, and not more than a few hundred paces in advance were the watchfires; and as I looked I heard the swell of a number of voices singing in chorus on different sides of me. The effect was most singular, for the sounds came from various quarters at the same instant, and, as they all chanted the same air, the refrain rang out and filled the valley; beating time with their feet, they stepped to the tune, and formed themselves to the melody, as though it were the band of the regiment. I had often heard that this was a voltigeur habit, but never was witness to it before. The air was one well known in that suburb of Paris whence the wildest and most reckless of our soldiers came, and which they all joined in celebrating in this rude verse:--

"Picardy first, and then Champagne,-- France to the battle! on boys, on!

Anjou, Brittany, and Maine,-- Hurrah for the Faubourg of St. Antoine I

"How pleasant the life of a voltigeur!

In the van of the fight he must ever be; Of roughing and rations he 's always sure,-- With a comrade's share he may well make free.

"Picardy first, and then Champagne,-- France to the battle I on boys, on!

Anjou, Brittany, and Maine,-- Hurrah for the Faubourg of St. Antoine!

"The great guns thunder on yonder hill,-- Closer than that they durst not go; But the voltigeur comes nearer still,-- With his bayonet fixed he meets the foe.

"The hussar's coat is slashed with gold; He rides an Arab courser fleet: But is the voltigeur less bold Who meets his enemy on his feet?

"The cuira.s.sier is clad in steel; His ma.s.sive sword is straight and strong: But the voltigeur can charge and wheel With a step,--his bayonet is just as long.

"The artillery-driver must halt his team If the current be fast or the water deep: But the voltigeur can swim the stream, And climb the bank, be it e'er so steep.

"The voltigeur needs no trumpet sound,-- No bugle has he to cheer him on: Where the fire is hottest, that 's his ground,-- Hurrah for the Faubourg of St. Antoine!"

As they came to the conclusion of this song, they kept up the air without words, imitating by their voices the roll of the drum in marching time. Joining the first party I came up with, I asked the officer in what direction of the field I should find the cuira.s.sier brigade.

"That I can't tell you, Comrade," said he. "No cavalry have appeared in our neighborhood, nor are they likely; for all the ground is cut up and intersected so much they could not act. But our maitre d'armes is the fellow to tell you. Halloo, Francois! come up here for a moment."

Before I could ask whether this was not my old antagonist at Elchingen, the individual himself appeared.

"Eh, what?" cried he, as he lifted a piece of firewood from the ground, and stared me in the face by its light. "Not my friend Burke, eh? By Jove! so it is."

Our cordial greetings being over, I asked Maitre Francois if he could give me any intelligence of D'Auvergne's division, or put me in the way to reach them.

"They're some miles off by this time," said he, coolly. "When I was below the Plateau de Jena last night, that brigade you speak of got their orders to push forward to Auerstadt, to support Davoust's infantry. I mind it well, for they were sorely tired, and had just picketed their horses, when the orderly came down with the despatch."

"And where does Auerstadt lie?"

"About four leagues to the other side of that tall mountain yonder."

"What, then, shall I do? I am dismounted, to begin with."

"And if you were not, if you had the best horse in the whole brigade, what would it serve you now, except to pa.s.s the day riding between two battle-fields, and see nothing of either? for we shall have hot work here, depend upon it. No, no; stay with us. Be a voltigeur for to-day, and we 'll show you something you 'll not see from your bearskin saddle."

"But I shall be in a sad sc.r.a.pe on account of my absence."

"Never mind that; the man that takes his turn with the voltigeurs of the Twenty-second won't be suspected of skulking. And here comes the major; report yourself to him at once."

Without waiting for any reply, Maitre Francois accosted the officer in question, and in a very few words explained my position.

"Nothing could come better timed," said the major. "One of ours has been sent with despatches to the rear, and we may not see him for some hours.

Again, a light cavalryman must know how to skirmish, and we 'll try your skill that way. Come along with me."

"To our next meeting, then," cried Francois, as I hurried on after the major; whilst once more the voltigeur ranks burst forth in full chorus, and the merry sounds filled the valley.

I followed the major down a somewhat steep and rugged path, at the foot of which, and concealed by a low copse-wood, was a party consisting of two companies of the regiment, who formed the most advanced pickets, and were destined to exchange the first shots with the enemy.