Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume Ii Part 3

"Forward!--charge!" came the word from front to rear, and squadron after squadron dashed madly up the ascent. The one word only, "Charge!" kept ringing through my head; all else was drowned in the terrible din of the advance. An Austrian brigade of light cavalry issued forth as we came up, but soon fell back under the overwhelming pressure of our force.

And now we came down upon the squares of the red-brown Russian infantry.

Volley after volley sent back our leading squadrons, wounded and repulsed, when, unlimbering with the speed of lightning, the horse artillery poured in a discharge of grapeshot. The ranks wavered, and through their cleft s.p.a.ces of dead and dying our cuira.s.siers dashed in, sabring all before them. In vain the infantry tried to form again: successive discharges of grape, followed by cavalry attacks, broke through their firmest ranks; and at last retreating, they fell back under cover of a tremendous battery of field-guns, which, opening their fire, compelled us to retire into the wood.

Nor were we long inactive. Bernadotte's division was now engaged on our left, and a pressing demand came for cavalry to support them. Again we mounted the hill, and came in sight of the Russian Guard, led on by the Grand-Duke Constantino himself,--a splendid body of men, conspicuous for their size and the splendor of their equipment. Such, however, was the impetuous torrent of our attack that they were broken in an instant; and notwithstanding their courage and devotion, fresh ma.s.ses of our dragoons kept pouring down upon them, and they were sabred, almost to a man.

While we were thus engaged, the battle became general from left to right, and the earth shook beneath the thundering sounds of two hundred great guns. Our position, for a moment victorious, soon changed; for having followed the retreating squadrons too far, the waves closed behind us, and we now saw that a dense cloud of Austrian and Russian cavalry were forming in our rear. An instant of hesitation would have been fatal. It was then that a tall and splendidly-dressed horseman broke from the line, and with a cry to "Follow!" rode straight at the enemy. It was Murat himself, sabre in hand, who, clearing his way through the Russians, opened a path for us. A few minutes after we had gained the wood; but one third of our force had fallen.

"Cavalry! cavalry!" cried a field-officer, riding down at headlong speed, his face covered with blood from a sabre-cut, "to the front!"

The order was given to advance at a gallop; and we found ourselves next instant hand to hand with the Russian dragoons, who having swept along the flank of Bernadotte's division, were sabring them on all sides.

On we went, reinforced by Nansouty and his carabineers, a body of nigh seven thousand men. It was a torrent no force could stem. The tide of victory was with us; and we swept along, wave after wave, the infantry advancing in line for miles at either side, while whole brigades of artillery kept up a murderous fire without ceasing. Entire columns of the enemy surrendered as prisoners; guns were captured at each instant; and only by a miracle did the Grand-Duke escape our hussars, who followed him till he was lost to view in the flying ranks of the allies.

As we gained the crest of the hill, we were in time to see Soult's victorious columns driving the enemy before them; while the Imperial Guard, up to that moment unengaged, reinforced the grenadiers on the right, and broke through the Russians on every side.

The attempt to outflank us on the right we had perfectly retorted on the left; where Lannes's division, overlapping the line, pressed them on two sides, and drove them back, still fighting, into the plain, which, with a lake, separated the allied armies from the village of Austerlitz. And here took place the most dreadful occurrence of the day.

The two roads which led through the lake were soon so enc.u.mbered and blocked up by ammunition wagons and carts that they became impa.s.sable; and as the ma.s.ses of the fugitives thickened, they spread over the lake, which happened to be frozen. It was at this time that the Emperor came up, and seeing the cavalry halted, and no longer in pursuit of the flying columns, ordered up twelve pieces of the artillery of the Imperial Guard, which, from the crest of the hill, opened a murderous fire on them. The slaughter was fearful as the discharges of grape and round shot cut channels through the jammed-up ma.s.s, and tore the dense columns, as it were, into fragments.

Dreadful as the scene was, what followed far exceeded it in horror; for soon the sh.e.l.ls began to explode beneath the ice, which now, with a succession of reports louder than thunder, gave way. In an instant whole regiments were ingulfed, and amid the wildest cries of despair, thousands sank never to appear again, while the deafening artillery mercilessly played upon them, till over that broad surface no living thing was seen to move, while beneath was the sepulchre of five thousand men. About seven thousand reached Austerlitz by another road to the northward; but even these had not escaped, save for a mistake of Bernadotte, who most unaccountably, as it was said, halted his division on the heights. Had it not been for this, not a soldier of the Russian right wing had been saved.

The reserve cavalry and the dragoons of the Guard were now called up from the pursuit, and I saw my own regiment pa.s.s close by me, as I stood amid the staff round Murat. The men were fresh and eager for the fray; yet how many fell in that pursuit, even after the victory! The Russian batteries continued their fire to the last. The cannoneers were cut down beside their guns, and the cavalry made repeated charges on our advancing squadrons; nor was it till late in the day they fell back, leaving two thirds of their force dead or wounded on the field of battle.

On every side now were to be seen the flying columns of the allies, hotly followed by the victorious French. The guns still thundered at intervals; but the loud roar of battle was subdued to the crashing din of charging squadrons, and the distant cries of the vanquishers and the vanquished. Around and about lay the wounded in all the fearful att.i.tudes of suffering; and as we were fully a league in advance of our original position, no succor had yet arrived for the poor fellows whose courage had carried them into the very squares of the enemy.

Most of the staff--myself among the number--were despatched to the rear for a.s.sistance. I remember, as I rode along at my fastest speed, between the columns of infantry and the fragments of artillery which covered the grounds, that a _peloton_ of dragoons came thundering past, while a voice shouted out "Place! place!" Supposing it was the Emperor himself, I drew up to one side, and uncovering my head, sat in patience till he had pa.s.sed, when, with the speed of four horses urged to their utmost, a caleche flew by, two men dressed like couriers seated on the box.

They made for the highroad towards Vienna, and soon disappeared in the distance.

"What can it mean?" said I, to an officer beside me; "not his Majesty, surely?"

"No, no," replied he, smiling: "it is General Lebrun on his way to Paris with the news of the victory. The Emperor is down at Reygern yonder, where he has just written the bulletin. I warrant you he follows that caleche with his eye; he'd rather see a battery of guns carried off by the enemy than an axle break there this moment."

Thus closed the great day of Austerlitz--a hundred cannons, forty-three thousand prisoners, and thirty-two colors being the spoils of this the greatest of even Napoleon's victories.

CHAPTER IV. THE FIELD AT MIDNIGHT.

We pa.s.sed the night on the field of battle,--a night dark and starless.

The heavens were, indeed, clothed with black, and a heavy atmosphere, lowering and gloomy, spread like a pall over the dead and the dying. Not a breath of air moved; and the groans of the wounded sighed through the stillness with a melancholy cadence no words can convey. Far away in the distance the moving lights marked where fatigue parties went in search of their comrades. The Emperor himself did not leave the saddle till nigh morning; he went, followed by an ambulance, hither and thither over the plain, recalling the names of the several regiments, enumerating their deeds of prowess, and even asking for many of the soldiers by name. He ordered large fires to be lighted throughout the field, and where medical a.s.sistance could not be procured, the officers of the staff might be seen covering the wounded with greatcoats and cloaks, and rendering them such aid as lay in their power.

Dreadful as the picture was,--fearful reverse to the gorgeous splendor of the vast army the morning sun had shone upon, and in the pride of strength and spirit,--yet even here was there much to make one feel that war is not bereft of its humanizing influences. How many a soldier did I see that night, blackened with powder, his clothes torn and ragged with shot, sitting beside a wounded comrade--now wetting his lips with a cool draught, now cheering his heart with words of comfort! Many, though wounded, were tending others less able to a.s.sist themselves. Acts of kindness and self-devotion--not less in number than those of heroism and courage--were met with at every step; while among the sufferers there lived a spirit of enthusiasm that seemed to lighten the worst pang of their agony. Many would cry out, as I pa.s.sed, to know the fate of the day, and what became of this regiment or of that battalion. Others could but articulate a faint "Vive l'Empereur!" which in the intervals of pain they kept repeating, as though it were a charm against suffering; while one question met me every instant,--"What says the Pet.i.t Caporal? Is he content with us?" None were insensible to the glorious issue of that day; nor amid all the agony of death, dealt out in every shape of horror and misery, did I hear one word of anger or rebuke to him for whose ambition they had shed their heart's blood.

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Having secured a fresh horse, I rode forward in the direction of Austerlitz, where our cavalry, met by the chevaliers of the Russian Imperial Guard, sustained the greatest check and the most considerable loss of the day. The old dragoon who accompanied me warned me I should find few, if any, of our comrades living there.

"_Ventrebleu!_ lieutenant, you can't expect it. The first four squadrons went down like one man; for when our fellows fell wounded from their horses, they always sabred or shot them as they lay."

I found this information but too correct. Lines of dead men lay beside their horses, ranged as they stood in battle, while before them lay the bodies of the Russian Guard, their gorgeous uniform all slashed with gold, marking them out amid the dull russet costumes of their comrades.

In many places were they intermingled, and showed where a hand-to-hand combat had been fought; and I saw two clasped rigidly in each other's grasp, who had evidently been shot by others while struggling for the mastery.

"I told you, mon lieutenant, it was useless to come here; this was _a la mort_ while it lasted; and if it had continued much longer in the same fashion, it's hard to say which of us had been going over the field now with lanterns."

Too true, indeed! Not one wounded man did we meet with, nor did one human voice break the silence around us. "Perhaps," said I, "they may have already carried up the wounded to the village yonder; I see a great blaze of light there. Bide forward, and learn if it be so."

When I had dismissed the orderly, I dismounted from my horse, and walked carefully along the ridge of ground, anxious to ascertain if any poor fellow still remained alive amid that dreadful heap of dead. A low brushwood covered the ground in certain places; and here I perceived but few of the cavalry had penetrated, while the infantry were all tirailleurs of the Russian Guard, bayoneted by our advancing columns.

As I approached the lake the ground became more rugged and uneven; and I was about to turn back, when my eye caught the faint glimmering of a light reflected in the water. Picketing my horse where he stood, I advanced alone towards the light, which I saw now was at the foot of a little rocky crag beside the lake. As I drew near, I stopped to listen, and could distinctly hear the deep tones of a man's voice, as if broken at intervals by pain, while in his accents I thought I could trace a tone of indignant pa.s.sion rather than of bodily suffering.

"Leave me, leave me where I am," cried he, peevishly. "I thought I might have had my last few moments tranquil, when I staggered thus far."

"Come, come, Comrade!" said another, in a voice of comforting; "come, thou wert never faint-hearted before. Thou hast had thy share of bruises, and cared little about them too. Art dry?"

"Yes; give me another drink. Ah!" cried he, in an excited tone, "they can't stand before the cuira.s.siers of the Guard. _Sacrebleu!_ how proud the Pet.i.t Caporal will be of this day!" Then, dropping his voice, he muttered, "What care I who's proud? I have my billet, and must be going."

"Not so, _mon enfant_; thou'lt have the cross for thy day's work. He knows thee well; I saw him smile to-day when thou madest the salute in pa.s.sing."

"Didst thou that?" said the wounded man, with eagerness; "did he smile?

Ah, villain! how you can allure men to shed their heart's blood by a smile! He knows me! That he ought, and, if he but knew how I lay here now, he 'd send the best surgeon of his staff to look after me."

"That he would, and that he will; courage, and cheer up."

"No, no; I don't care for it now. I'll never go back to the regiment again; I could n't do it!"

As he spoke the last words his voice became fainter and fainter, and at last was lost in a hiccup; partly, as it seemed, from emotion, and partly from bodily suffering.

"_Qui vive?_" cried his companion, as the clash of my sabre announced my approach.

"An officer of the Eighth Hussars," said I, in a low voice, fearing to disturb the wounded man, as he lay with his head sunk on his knees.

"Too late, Comrade! too late," said he, in a stifled tone; "the order of route has come. I must away."

"A brave cuira.s.sier of the Guard should never say so while he has a chance left to serve his Emperor in another field of battle."

"Vive l'Empereur! vive l'Empereur!" shouted he, madly, as he lifted his helmet and tried to wave it above his head. But the exertion brought on a violent fit of coughing, which choked his utterance, while a torrent of red blood gushed from his mouth, and deluged his neck and chest.

"Ah, _mon Dieu!_ that cry has been his death," said the other, wringing his hands in utter misery.

"Where is he wounded?" said I, kneeling down beside the sick man, who now lay, half on his face, upon the gra.s.s.

"In the chest, through the lung," whispered the other. "He doesn't know the doctor saw him; it was he told me there was no hope. 'You may leave him,' said he; 'an hour or two more are all that 's left him;' as if I could leave a comrade we all loved. My poor fellow, it is a sad day for the old Fourth when thou art taken from them!"

"Ha! was he of the Fourth, then?" said I, remembering the regiment.

"Yes, _parbleu!_ and though but a corporal, he was well known throughout the army. Pioche--"

"Pioche!" cried I, in agony; "is this Pioche?"

"Here," said the wounded man, hearing the name, and answering as if on parade,--"here, mon commandant! but too faint, I 'm afraid, for duty.

I feel weak to-day," said he, as he pressed his hand upon his side, and then slowly sank back against the rock, and dropped his arms at either side.