The Red, White, and Green

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by Herbert Hayens


  CHAPTER XII.

  _A SORROWFUL VICTORY._

  "Conquer to-day, or back behind the Theiss! Such is the alternative; Iknow of no other. Damjanics still continues the battle. Aulichadvances; Klapka has stopped his retreat. Forward! We _must_ conquer!"

  These were the words which greeted us from our brave chief, when onceagain we stood in battle array, and they warmed our blood like a draughtof generous wine.

  I understood little of the general's plans, except that at all costs hepurposed keeping Jellachich and the Austrians apart.

  On the extreme left, Aulich and a part of the second division advancedthrough a spur of the Isaszeg forest; in the centre our cavalry andartillery had gathered; we of Klapka's corps, with a small part of thesecond division, occupied the most northern spur of all.

  As we reached our positions, Goergei rode down, attended by hisbrilliant staff.

  I looked eagerly for Stephen, and my heart sank when I saw he was notthere.

  Goergei was no orator like Kossuth. As a rule he spoke with his sword,and very clearly did he make himself understood.

  This morning he treated us to a little harangue. It was not long, butvery effective.

  "My lads!" he said, and his voice rang out like a trumpet-call, "thereis only one thing I ask you to do--stand where you are till the sun goesdown. Will you do it?"

  Like one man, the broken remnant of Klapka's corps shouted their answer;and the general, whose face beamed with pleasure, rode off amidstenthusiastic cries of "Elijen Goergei!"

  In the centre, a part of the forest had burst into flames, and the wind,blowing from the south, spread the smoke over our right like a curtain.

  At times it was so thick we could neither see nor be seen. Again itwould lift, and reveal to our straining eyes some portion of the battle.

  The artillery duel in the centre proceeded with the utmost vigour, butit seemed to us that the Austrian fire gradually grew weaker andslacker. Two tremendous explosions, one after the other, announced theblowing up of a considerable quantity of ammunition, and for a while thefire ceased.

  Aulich's corps was by this time hidden from view in the forest, but bythe sound of his light guns we could tell he was making uninterruptedprogress.

  Thus far we ourselves were merely spectators of the battle, but nowseveral infantry regiments appeared on our right, and poured adestructive fire into our ranks.

  We paid back what we could of their favours; but they had the advantageof us, and Klapka had just given orders to turn them out when theythemselves rushed forward to the charge.

  The onslaught was sudden and violent, but the Magyars, burning to atonefor yesterday's panic, actually left the shelter of the trees in orderto engage their enemy the sooner.

  So eager, indeed, were the 9th Honveds that they got entirely out ofhand, and having defeated a body of the enemy, chased them much fartherthan was prudent.

  A well-directed cavalry charge would at this moment have cut theregiment in pieces.

  As it happened, Klapka's men were successful all along the line, whichhelped us to return without mishap.

  The tremendous cannonade in the centre, which had partly died away, nowbroke out afresh. The wind, veering again, swept the smoke from theburning forest right across our position, shrouding us completely.

  When next we were able to catch a glimpse of the battle, our men raiseda loud cheer and flourished their rifles excitedly, to the great dangerboth of themselves and their comrades.

  Far in advance of us, and on our left, the soldiers of Aulich's divisionwere pushing the Austrians before them, and thus far Goergei's plans hadproved a success.

  At this sight our own opponents made a desperate effort to drive us fromthe spur of the forest which we held, and for a while longer the fightraged with great fury.

  Goergei's words, however, still rang in our ears, and not a man made abackward step.

  About this time my anxiety concerning Stephen was relieved. Thegeneral, seeing what tremendous efforts the enemy made to roll us back,rode up to give us some little encouragement, and amongst his staff Isaw my brother, apparently unhurt, but looking very tired.

  Stephen gave me a bright nod as the general cantered along, praising themen, bidding them hold out a little longer, and assuring us all that thebattle was practically won.

  Goergei had hardly gone when our opponents rallied for a final attack.

  It was growing dusk by now, and we felt sure that everything in our partof the field depended on the next half-hour.

  An Austrian success would wipe out all the advantage Aulich hadobtained; while if we stood firm, the enemy must retire in every part ofthe field.

  The part to be played by the 9th Honveds was very simple, yet I mustadmit we did not like it. A shadow of annoyance passed over evenRakoczy's face when the order was brought from Klapka.

  Every man in the regiment burned to advance, instead of which we had tostand still and supply a steady target for the enemy's fire.

  Fortunately the attack did not last long. The other regiments, turningon us as on a pivot, swung round in a flanking movement, and presentlythe Hungarian cry of "Forward! forward!" told that our comrades weredriving the enemy before them.

  "Now," exclaimed our colonel genially, "if Aulich has taken Isaszeg, theaffair is over."

  But had he? No one could tell. His corps had vanished completely, andthe fast-approaching night swallowed everything in gloom.

  Two hours longer we stood to our arms, ready at any moment either toadvance or to repel any fresh attack.

  It was dreary work waiting, and the men were so tired that many fellasleep while standing in the ranks.

  Suddenly there rose a sound of cheering, a vigorous "Elijen Goergei!Elijen Aulich!" and the welcome news flashed from regiment to regiment,from man to man, that Aulich had chased the Austrians out of Isaszeg.

  The knowledge of this success made new men of us. We forgot our fatigue,and lay half through the night joyfully discussing the probable resultsof the battle.

  Every one agreed that the Austrians would now be compelled to fall backon Pesth. Very few, if any, suspected that from our victory was tospring the ruin of the national cause.

  Goergei was not the man to let the grass grow under his feet, and thenext day Klapka and Damjanics received orders to march on Waitzen, thetown standing on the bend where the Danube sweeps round to the south,while one corps remained behind to hoodwink Windischgratz.

  Nothing of interest occurred during the march, and we reached Waitzen onthe morning of April 9 without having met a sign of the enemy.

  The town was unfortified; but the Austrian general, Gatz, commanding twobrigades, had resolved upon a vigorous defence, as we soon found.

  The 9th Honveds formed part of the vanguard, and after a sharp strugglewe succeeded in forcing a way into the streets.

  Here our progress was instantly checked. The old-fashioned lane inwhich we found ourselves was so narrow that the inmates of the houses,by leaning out of window, could almost shake hands with their oppositeneighbours.

  Across this lane three barricades had been constructed in such a mannerthat, while the second commanded the first, the third overawed both.

  Carried away by what was, perhaps, a natural impulse, the men, withoutwaiting for orders, rushed at the nearest barrier, and were mowed downin scores.

  I suppose it is the sense of being shut up in a corner, with littlechance of escape, that makes street fighting so savage. Certainly Ihave never seen so furious a conflict in the open field as behind thebarricades in Waitzen.

  From the shouts and cries of the combatants, and the firing of guns, werecognized that our comrades were fighting their way, step by step, inother directions, and I for one hoped some of them would come to ourassistance by taking the barricades in the rear.

  The attack having failed, the men came dropping back in disorder, beingexposed not only to the fire from the barrier, bu
t also from the windowsof the houses, which were garrisoned by soldiers.

  Meanwhile, the pressure behind being relieved, the colonel rallied theregiment into something like order again.

  "It's no use trying for the barricade like that, my lads," he exclaimedcheerfully; "we're only knocking our heads against a stone wall. Whatwe have to do is to clear the houses one by one."

  This was really the only workmanlike way of doing the business, thoughit added much to the horrors of the combat.

  The Austrians inside the buildings forced us to fight for every room ineach house. They made a barricade of every article of furniture, and afortress of every staircase. While we fought those below, their comradesin the upper stories picked us off with their rifles; and when theirammunition was exhausted they clambered over to the next house, ordropped into the street.

  In this fashion we worked our way to the buildings overlooking the firstbarricade, which now became useless, and was immediately abandoned.

  The last man to leave was their leader, and at sight of him my heartbeat fast.

  He stood on the barricade, coolly directing the movements of his men,while the bullets fell round him like hailstones.

  In one hand was his sword; in the other he carried the black and yellowflag of his country.

  He did not seem in any kind of hurry, but waited patiently till thesoldiers had entered the houses; then, and not till then, he left hispost.

  He had not seen me; but I recognized him at once, and trembled for hissafety.

  I had never met this noble veteran since leaving Vienna, and had hopedthe war might end without our coming face to face. How could I everlook into the pretty fraeulein's eyes again if by any chance my swordshould cross that of her father's?

  For this Austrian leader, whose bravery even the Magyars applauded, wasBaron von Arnstein, and it was plain he would yield that narrow passageonly with his life.

  Happily, perhaps, I had little leisure for thinking. The firstbarricade being down, the fight continued with redoubled fury.

  And now, adding new horror to the scene, fire broke out; and by the timewe had fought our way to the second barricade, it was necessary for bothsides to abandon the houses.

  The third barrier must be taken by a rush along the narrow lane, or notat all.

  By this time the regiment had lost half its strength. Both the majorswere down--dead or wounded, we knew not which--and many other officers;but the survivors, instead of being cowed by this great loss, were onlythe more eager to go on.

  So, in the midst of the smoke and the flames from the burning houses, wetook our lives in our hands and ran, Rakoczy leading.

  "Forward!" he cried. "Forward!" echoed the Honveds, and a spectatorwould have thought our fierce rush alone must have swept the Austriansinto eternity.

  But on the barricade, still grasping the black and yellow flag, therestood a man to whom fear was an unknown quantity, and whose one idea wasto do the duty entrusted to him.

  I watched him with the keenest interest as he collected his forces towithstand the shock.

  Rakoczy saw him too, and his genial brow clouded. It grieved him sorelyto think he must fight against his old acquaintance; but, like theAustrian baron, the Magyar had a duty to perform, and there was no traceof faltering in his voice as he urged his men to the assault.

  The next moment the white-coats poured in their volley. Many of ourfellows dropped, Rakoczy amongst them. The rest of us rushed on wildly,to be stopped by a second volley more destructive than the first.

  Then some one shouted lustily that the colonel was dead; and theHonveds, with victory within their grasp, ran back, while the enemycheered exultingly.

  Sad at heart, I returned to the spot where my gallant friend had fallenand, with the help of Mecsey Sandor, who followed me everywhere like ashadow, bore his body back.

  It was terrible to think I had not time even to find out if he werereally dead!

  We laid him down reverently, and I immediately began to re-form thebroken regiment; for so fierce had been the fighting, that of theofficers able to enter action I was the senior.

  Very gladly I would have yielded the honour and responsibility toanother; but as that could not be, I resolved to do my best.

  "Will you follow me, my lads?" I cried, when we were again ready.

  "We will!" they answered, with a shout.

  "Then come on! Over the barricade this time!"

  It is curious how a phrase, or sometimes even a word, will work on anumber of men acting together.

  There is nothing very striking in "Over the barricade this time!" yetthe words were caught up by the soldiers, repeated again and again, andmore than one man died with them on his lips.

  They sounded high and clear above the noise of the first volley, and aswe pressed on the wounded sent them after us feebly.

  I really believe they kept us going after the next volley fired at closerange, and certainly they were roared out most lustily as the first ofthe stormers appeared on the stronghold.

  It was Dobozy carrying the colours; but he missed his footing and felldown, half stunned, but otherwise unhurt.

  A little, muscular fellow picked up the fallen flag, and sprang with itto my side, while the others rushed pell-mell after us.

  I had purposely avoided Von Arnstein, who was to the right of me; but,like a true leader, he soon scented where the danger was greatest, andcut a way to that part of his stronghold where the red, white, and greenproudly waved.

  Twice we went back to the very edge of the barrier, and once the colourswere snatched from our grasp by a grizzled veteran, who laugheddefiantly as a Magyar cut him down.

  To right and left of us the flames of the burning buildings threw alurid glare on the scene, and some one excitedly shouted that thebarricade was on fire.

  We heard the shout, but it had no effect on the fighting. It did notprevent a blow being struck, nor cause the foot of Magyar or Austrian tomove an inch backward.

  We had gripped one another, as it were, by the throat, and hung therelike bulldogs.

  When I look back at that terrible fight, I find the picture for the mostpart blurred and indistinct; but there is just one tiny part of it whosecolour is vivid and its drawing bold.

  It will always be so, I suppose, though I do not care to see it.

  Over and over again I had gone out of my way to avoid the gallantleader, had plunged with foolhardy recklessness into the greatestdangers, and he had followed my steps with strange persistence.

  I do not think he had a moment's suspicion who I was until at last thechances of the fight brought us face to face.

  That is the one corner of the picture where the colours have not faded.All around is a blur; but two figures stand out lifelike.

  One is that of a youth with torn uniform, his smoke-begrimed featuresworking with excitement, his sword held in the most awkward mannereither for attack or defence.

  The other is the figure of an old man, his breast covered with medalsand decorations, of commanding carriage, and with a proud look in hiskeen blue eyes.

  Close by, my fancy paints the face of a beautiful girl gazing mournfullyat the youth and the old man--the Magyar and the Austrian.

  I know it is not really there, yet I see it as plainly as I did on thatterrible day in the years gone by.

  The tide had at last turned in our favour; the Austrians were yieldingslowly, when their leader made his final effort. Cheered by his voice,they rallied once more, and then it was we met.

  The look which flashed from his eyes to mine occupied the merestfraction of a second, yet I shall never forget it.

  I read there astonishment and sorrow, then a certain hardness, as if thebrave old warrior were calling duty to his aid.

  With him the struggle ended, and the soldier, not the friend, gained thevictory.

  I saw his determination quite plainly, and yet could not bring myself toparry the blow. Who could tell what might happen if once our swordscrossed?

 
Theresa was looking into my eyes, and, as I lowered my weapon, shesmiled upon me approvingly and vanished.

  Perhaps the baron would have drawn back; but he was in the very act ofdelivering his stroke, and I nerved myself to meet it.

  The sword shone red in the glow of the flames; but before it descendedanother piece of steel flashed past me, and pierced the baron's chest.

  Mecsey Sandor had no scruples in killing any one to save his master'slife, which the faithful fellow undoubtedly had done.

  At the fall of their chief the Austrians abandoned the position, uponwhich I ordered the regiment to fall in a little beyond the burninghouses.

  Just then a man clapped me lightly on the shoulder, saying, "Thanks,George!" and, turning, I beheld the colonel.

  The men recognized him too, and broke into hearty cheering.

  "We have suffered so severely," I said, "that I stopped the pursuit."

  "Quite right. Let others follow; we must see to the wounded, or theywill be burned to death. The barricade's in a blaze, and--"

  "The baron!" I exclaimed. "He lies there, dead or dangerously wounded.Let me have some men."

  "As many as you please. Dobozy--"

  I hurried off at once, and, selecting a score of fellows, ran to thebarrier, which appeared to be enveloped in flames. True, it was notquite as bad as that, but we had barely time to remove the injured andsome of the dead when the whole pile fell in with a crash, and theheavens were reddened by a broad sheet of flame.

  I found Von Arnstein just where he had fallen, and had him carried to ahouse some distance off, where I went, immediately the work of rescuewas finished.

  Our comrades had been equally successful in other parts of the town, andWaitzen was in our hands, though we had paid a heavier price for it thanwas reckoned on.

  In a state of utter dejection I entered the room where the baron lay ona bed, and it scarcely needed the surgeon's significant gesture to killthe tiny germ of hope in my breast. I crossed the room with noiselesssteps and looked at the dying man.

  The surgeon had cut away a part of his coat and shirt, the more easilyto get at the wound, but a glance showed even to me that all his skillwas vain.

  Mecsey Sandor's arm was strong, and in defence of his master he hadstruck with all his might.

  The veteran's face was bloodless, but he lay quite still, and I rejoicedto think he suffered little pain.

  As I bent over him his eyes opened, and he gazed at me languidly, butwithout a sign of recognition.

  "Baron," I said softly, "don't you know me, George Botskay, the youngHungarian you saved from prison? I was once able to do a little servicefor your daughter."

  How much of this he understood I cannot say, but the last word certainlymade an impression, for a happy smile lit up his wan face, and hemurmured to himself what sounded like "Tessie."

  This I took to be an endearing name for his daughter.

  His strength was soon exhausted, his eyes closed again, and I thought hewas dead.

  "No," said the surgeon, "he will rally at the end; it cannot be faroff."

  "An hour?"

  "More likely two. He is a strong man, or he would have gone beforethis."

  Borrowing a piece of paper from the owner of the house, I wrote a noteto Rakoczy, requesting leave to stay with the baron, and sent it by asoldier. Then I sat down by the bedside to wait for the end.

 

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