The Erckmann-Chatrian Megapack: 20 Classic Novels and Short Stories

by Émile Erckmann

  He complained greatly of the Prussians, said they were proud and insolent, that they corrupted the women and were never satisfied, and that the officers boasted of having driven us from Dresden to Paris, that they had made us run like hares.

  I was indignant at that, for I knew they were two to one at Leipzig, and that the Russians, Austrians, Saxons, Bavarians, Wurtemburgers, Swedes, in fact all Europe had overwhelmed us, while three-quarters of our army were sick with typhus, cold, and famine, marching and countermarching; but that even all this had not prevented us from beating them at Hanau, and fifty other times when they were three to one, in Champagne, Alsace, in the Vosges, and everywhere.

  Their boasting disgusted me, I had a horror of the whole race, and I thought, “those are the rascals who sour your blood.” The old man said too, that the Prussians constantly declared that they would soon be enjoying themselves in Paris, drinking good French wines; and that the French army was only a band of brigands. When I heard that, I said to myself, “Joseph, that is too much! now you will show no more mercy, there is nothing but extermination.”

  The clocks of Chatelet struck nine and a half, and the hussars sounded the retreat, and each one was about to dispose himself behind a hedge or a bee-house or in a furrow for the night, when the general of the brigade, Schoeffer, ordered the battalion to take up their position on the other side of the wood, as the vanguard. I saw at once that our unlucky battalion was always to be in the van, just as it was in 1813.

  It is a sad thing for a regiment to have a reputation; the men change, but the number remains the same. The Sixth light infantry had always been a distinguished number, and I knew what it cost. Those of us who were inclined to sleep, were wide awake now, for when you know that the enemy is at hand, and you say to yourself, “The Prussians are in ambush, perhaps in that wood, waiting for you,” it makes you open your eyes.

  Several hussars deployed as scouts on our right and left, in front of the column. We marched at the route step, with the captains between the companies, and the Commandant Gémeau, on his little gray mare, in the middle of the battalion. Before starting each man had received three pounds of bread and two pounds of rice, and this was the way in which the campaign opened for us.

  The sky was without a cloud, and all the country and even the forest, which lay three-quarters of a league before us, shone in the moonlight like silver. I thought involuntarily of the wood at Leipzig, where I had slipped into a clay-pit with two Prussian hussars, when poor Klipfel was cut into a thousand pieces at a little distance from me. All this made me very watchful. No one spoke, even Buche raised his head and shut his teeth, and Zébédé, who was at the left of the company, did not look toward me, but right ahead into the shadow of the trees, like everybody else.

  It took us nearly an hour to reach the forest, and when within two hundred paces the order came to “halt.”

  The hussars fell back on the flanks of the battalion, and one company deployed as scouts. We waited about five minutes, and as not the slightest noise or sound of any kind reached our ears, we resumed our march. The road which we followed through the wood was quite a wide cart-path. The column marked step in the shadows. At every moment great openings in the forest gave us light and air, and we could see the white piles of newly cut wood between their stakes, shining in the distance from time to time.

  Besides this, nothing could be heard or seen. Buche said to me in a low voice, “I like the smell of the wood, it is like Harberg.”

  “I despise the smell of the wood,” I thought; “and if we do not get a musket-shot, I shall be satisfied.”

  At the end of two hours the light appeared again through the underwood, and we reached the other side, fortunately without encountering either enemy or obstacle. The hussars who had accompanied us returned immediately, and the battalion stacked arms.

  We were in a grain country, the like of which I had never seen. Some of the grain was in flower, a little green still, though the barley was almost ripe. The fields extended as far as the eye could reach. We looked around in perfect silence, and I saw that the old man had not deceived us. Two thousand paces in front of us, in a hollow, we saw the top of an old church spire and some slated gables, lighted up by the moon. That was Fleurus. Nearer to us on our right were some thatched cottages, and a few houses; this was without doubt Lambusart. At the end of the plain, more than a league distant and in the rear of Fleurus, the surface of the country was broken into little hills, and on these hills innumerable fires were burning. Three large villages were easily recognized extending over the heights from left to right. The one nearest to us, we afterward found, was St. Amand, Ligny in the middle, and two leagues beyond, was Sombref. We could see them more distinctly, even, than in the day-time, on account of the fires of the enemy. The Prussians were in the houses and the orchards and the fields; and beyond these three villages in a line, was another, lying still higher and farther away, where fires were burning also. This was Bry, where the rascals had their reserves.

  As we looked at this grand spectacle, I understood the disposition and the plan, and saw too that it would be very difficult to take the position. On the plain at our left there were fires also, but it was the camp of the Third corps, which had turned the corner of the forest after having repulsed the Prussians, and had halted in some village this side of Fleurus. There were a few fires along the edge of the forest, on a line with us; these were the fires of our own soldiers. I believe there were some on both sides of us, but the great mass were at the left.

  We posted our sentinels immediately, and without lighting our fires laid down at the border of the wood to wait for further orders. General Schoeffer came again during the night with several hussar officers, and talked a long time with our commandant, Gémeau, who was watching under arms. Their conversation was quite distinct at twenty paces from us. The general said that our army corps continued to arrive, but that they were very late, and would not all reach here the next day. I saw at once that he was right; for our fourth battalion, which should have joined us at Chatelet, did not come till the day after the battle, when we were almost exterminated by those rascals at Ligny, having only four hundred men left. If they had been there they would have had their share of the combat and of the glory.

  As I had been on guard the night before, I quietly stretched myself at the foot of a tree by the side of Buche, with my comrades. It was about one o’clock in the morning of the day of the terrible battle of Ligny. Nearly half of those men who were sleeping around me left their bodies on the plain and in the villages which we saw, to be food for the grain, such as was growing so beautifully around us, for the oats and the barley for ages to come. If they had known that, there was more than one of them who would not have slept so well, for men cling to life, and it is a sad thing to think, “to-day I draw my last breath!”

  CHAPTER XVIII

  During the night the air was heavy, and I wakened every hour in spite of my great fatigue, but my comrades slept on, some talking in their sleep. Buche did not stir.

  Close at hand, on the edge of the forest, our stacked muskets sparkled in the moonlight. In the distance on the left I could hear the “Qui vive,”9 and on our front the “Wer da.”10 Nearer to us, our sentinels stood motionless, up to their waists in the standing grain.

  I rose up softly and looked about me. In the vicinity of Sombref, two leagues to our right, I could hear a great tumult from time to time, which would increase and then cease entirely. It might have been little gusts of wind among the leaves, but there was not a breath of air and not a drop of dew fell, and I thought, “Those are the cannon and wagons of the Prussians, galloping over the Namur road; their battalions and squadrons, which are coming continually. What a position we shall be in to-morrow with that mass of men already before us, and re-enforcements arriving every moment.”

  They had extinguished their fires at St. Amand and at Ligny, but they burned brighter than ever at Sombref. The Prussians who had just arrived after forced marche
s were no doubt making their soup.

  A thousand thoughts ran through my brain, and I said to myself from time to time, “You escaped from Lutzen and Leipzig and Hanau, why not escape this time also?”

  But the hopes which I cherished did not prevent me from realizing that the battle would be a terrible one. I lay down, however, and slept soundly for half an hour, when the drum-major, Padoue himself, commenced to beat the reveille. He promenaded up and down the edge of the wood and turned off his rolls and double rolls with great satisfaction. The officers were standing in the grain on the hill-side in a group, looking toward Fleurus, and talking among themselves. Our reveille always commenced before that of the Austrians or Prussians or any of our enemies. It is like the song of the lark at dawn. They commence theirs on their big drums with a dismal roll which gives you the idea of a funeral. But, on the contrary, their buglers have pretty airs for sounding the reveille, while ours only give two or three blasts, as much as to say: “Come, let us be going! there is no time to lose.” Everybody rose and the sun came up splendidly over the grain fields, and we could feel beforehand how hot it would be at noon.

  Buche and all the detailed men set off with their canteens for water, while others were lighting handfuls of straw with tinder for their fires. There was no lack of wood, as each one took an armful from the piles that were already cut. Corporal Duhem and Sergeant Rabot and Zébédé came to have a talk with me. We were together in 1813, and they had been at my wedding, and in spite of the difference in our rank they had always continued their friendship for me.

  “Well! Joseph,” said Zébédé, “the dance is going to commence.”

  “Yes,” I replied, and recalling the words of poor Sergeant Pinto the morning before Lutzen, I added with a wink, “this, Zébédé, will be a battle, as Sergeant Pinto said, where you will gain the cross between the thrusts of ramrod and bayonet, and if you do not have a chance now you need never expect it.”

  They all began to laugh, and Zébédé said:

  “Yes, indeed, the poor old fellow richly deserved it, but it is harder to catch than the bouquet at the top of a climbing pole.”

  We all laughed, and as they had a flask of brandy, we took a crust of bread together as we watched the movements of the enemy which began to be perceptible. Buche had returned among the first with his canteen and now stood behind us with his ears wide open like a fox on the alert.

  Files of cavalry came out of the woods and crossed the grain fields in the direction of St. Amand, the large village at the left of Fleurus.

  “Those,” said Zébédé, “are the light horse of Pajol who will deploy as scouts. These are Exelman’s dragoons. When the others have ascertained the positions they will advance in line, that is the way they always do, and the cannon will come with the infantry. The cavalry will form on the right or the left and support the flanks, and the infantry will take the front rank. They will form their attacking columns on the good roads and in the fields, and the affair will begin with a cannonade for twenty minutes or half an hour, more or less, and when half the batteries are disabled, the Emperor will choose a favorable moment to put us in, but it is we who will catch the bullets and canister because we are nearest. We advance, carry arms, in readiness for a charge, at a quick step and in good order, but it always ends in a double quick, because the shot makes you impatient. I warn you, conscripts, beforehand, so that you may not be surprised.” More than twenty conscripts had ranged themselves behind us to listen. The cavalry continued to pour out of the wood.

  “I will bet,” said Corporal Duhem, “that the Fourth cavalry has been on the march in our rear since daybreak.”

  And Rabot said they would have to take time to get into line, as it was so bad traversing the wood. We were discussing the matter like generals, and we scanned the position of the Prussians around the villages, in the orchards, and behind the hedges, which are six feet high in that country. A great number of their guns were grouped in batteries between Ligny and St. Amand, and we could plainly see the bronze shining in the sun, which inspired all sorts of reflections.

  “I am sure,” said Zébédé, “that they are all barricaded, and they have dug ditches and pierced the walls; we should have done well to push on yesterday, when their squares retreated to the first village on the heights. If we were on a level with them it would be very well, but to climb up across those hedges under the enemy’s fire will cost a trifle, unless something should happen in the rear as is sometimes the case with the Emperor.”

  The old soldiers were talking in this fashion on all sides, and the conscripts were listening with open ears.

  Meanwhile the camp-kettles were suspended over the fire, but they were expressly forbidden to use their bayonets for this purpose as it destroyed their temper. It was about seven o’clock, and we all thought that the battle would be at St. Amand. The village was surrounded by hedges and shrubbery, with a great tower in the centre, and higher up in the rear there were more houses and a winding road bordered with a stone wail. All the officers said: “That is where the struggle will be.” As our troops came from Charleroi they spread over the plain below us, infantry and cavalry side by side; all the corps of Vandamme and Gérard’s division. Thousands and thousands of helmets glittered in the sun, and Buche who stood beside me, exclaimed:

  “Oh! oh! oh! look, Joseph, look! they come continually!”

  And we could see innumerable bayonets in the same direction as far as the eye could reach.

  The Prussians were spreading more and more over the hill-side near the windmills. This movement continued till eight o’clock. Nobody was hungry, but we ate all the same, so as not to reproach ourselves; for the battle, once begun, might last two days without giving us a chance to eat again.

  Between eight and nine o’clock the first battalions of our division left the wood. The officers came to shake hands with their comrades, but the staff remained in the rear. Suddenly the hussars and chasseurs passed us, extending our line of battle toward the right. They were Morin’s cavalry. Our idea was that when the Prussians should have become engaged in the attack on St. Amand, we would fall on their flank at Ligny. But the Prussians were on their guard, and from that moment they stopped at Ligny, instead of going on to St. Amand. They even came lower down, and we could see the officers posting the men among the hedges and in the gardens and behind the low walls and barracks. We thought their position very strong. They continued to come lower down in a sort of fold of the hill-side between Ligny and Fleurus, and that astonished us, for we did not yet know that a little brook divided the village into two parts, and that they were filling the houses on our side, and we did not know that if they were repulsed they could retreat up the hill and still hold us always under their fire.

  If we knew everything about such affairs beforehand, we should never dare to commence such a dangerous enterprise, but the difficulties are discovered step by step. We were destined that day to find a great many things which we did not expect.

  About half-past eight several of our regiments had left the wood, and very soon the drums beat the assembly and all the battalions took their arms. The general, Count Gérard, arrived with his staff, and passing us at a gallop, without any notice, went on to the hill below Fleurus. Almost immediately the firing commenced; the scouts of Vandamme approached the village on the left, and two pieces of cannon were sent off, with the artillerymen on horseback. After five or six discharges of cannon from the top of the hill the musketry ceased and our scouts were in Fleurus, and we saw three or four hundred Prussians mounting the hill in the distance, toward Ligny. General Gérard, after looking at this little engagement, came back with his staff and passed slowly down our front, inspecting us carefully, as if he wished to ascertain what sort of humor we were in. He was about forty-five years old, brown, with a large head, a round face, the lower part heavy, with a pointed chin. A great many peasants in our country resemble him, and they are not the most stupid. He said not a word to us, and when he had passed the whole l
ength of our line, all the generals and colonels were grouped together. The command was given to order arms. The orderlies then set off like the wind; this engrossed the attention of all, but not a man stirred. The rumor spread that Grouchy was to be commander-in-chief, and that the Emperor had attacked the English four leagues away, on the route to Brussels.

  This news put us in anything but a pleasant humor, and more than one said, “It is no wonder that we are here doing nothing since morning; if the Emperor was with us, we should have given battle long ago, and the Prussians would not have had time to know where they were.”

  This was the talk we indulged in, and it shows the injustice of men; for three hours afterward, in the midst of shouts of “Vive l’Empereur,” Napoleon arrived. These shouts swept along the line like a tempest, and were continued even opposite Sombref. Now everything was right. That for which we had reproached Marshal Grouchy, was perfectly proper when done by the Emperor, since it was he.

  Very soon the order reached us to advance our line five hundred paces to the right, and off we started through the rye, oats, and barley, which were swept down before us, but the principal line of battle on the left was not changed.

  As we reached a broad road which we had not before seen and came in sight of Fleurus, with its little brook bordered with willows, the order was given to halt! A murmur ran through the whole division—“There he is!”

  He was on horseback, and only accompanied by a few of the officers of his staff.

  We could only recognize him in the distance by has gray coat and his hat; his carriage with its escort of lancers was in the rear. He entered Fleurus by the high road, and remained in the village more than an hour, while we were roasting in the grain fields.