by G. A. Henty
From time to time an aide-de-camp was sent off, with some order involving the movement of a battalion farther to the right or left, and the addition of a few guns to the battery on Homolka Hill. Fergus had taken his turn in carrying the orders. He had, two days before, abandoned his sling; and scarcely felt any inconvenience from the wound, which indeed would have been of slight consequence, had it not been for the excessive loss of blood.
“These movements mean nothing,” Lindsay said, as he returned from one of these rides. “The marshal makes the changes simply for the sake of doing something—partly, perhaps, to take the king’s attention off this confounded delay; partly to interest the troops, who must be just as restless and impatient as we are.”
The messages were taken, alternately, by the king’s aides-de-camp and the marshal’s.
At length, as the fog began to lift, the interest in the scene heightened. The king and Keith talked long and earnestly together, as they watched the village of Lobositz.
“They have got some strong batteries there,” Lindsay said; “but as far as one can see, there does not appear to be any large body of troops. I suppose it is meant that the troops on the slopes shall retire there, and make a strong stand. I am bound to say that it looks very much as if Browne had only left a strong guard here, to keep us from issuing from this defile; and that his whole army moved away last night, and may now be some thirty miles away, on their march towards Saxony.”
As the fog lifted still more they could see the stream running right across the plain, and the little village of Sulowitz on its bank, apparently still and deserted. Presently Keith wrote an order on a tablet, and Lindsay was sent off with it, to the general commanding the cavalry.
“Something is going to be done at last, Drummond,” he said, as he mounted. “It is an order to the cavalry.”
An order was then despatched to the battery on Homolka Hill, and to the batteries on the left. Two more battalions of infantry then moved up, to press the Croats more quickly down the hill.
Fergus watched Lindsay, and saw him ride up to the general. Several officers at once galloped off. There was a movement among the cavalry, and then twenty squadrons passed out through the intervals between the brigades of infantry, and trotted out through the mouth of the valley. They went on without interruption, until abreast of Lobositz; and then a great number of men ran suddenly up, from the houses of the village, to the batteries.
A minute later some thirty guns poured their fire into the Prussian cavalry; while at the same moment the guns of a heavy battery, hitherto unseen, poured in their fire from Sulowitz on their left flank; while from rising ground, not visible behind it, came the roar of thirty more pieces.
So rapidly had the aides-de-camp been sent off, that Fergus was the only one remaining available. The king spoke a few words to themarshal, and then said to Fergus:
“Ride, sir, with my orders to the officer commanding the cavalry out there, and tell him to retire at once.”
Fergus ran back to where Karl was holding his horse.
“Follow me, Karl,” he said, as he sprang into the saddle; and then rode rapidly down the steep hill and, as soon as he reached the valley, dashed off at a headlong gallop.
“I have orders, Karl, to recall the cavalry, who will be destroyed unless they return. Should I fall, carry the order to their commander.”
The din was now prodigious. The whole of the Prussian batteries had opened on Lobositz and Sulowitz, and between the thunder of the guns came the incessant crackling of musketry on the hill to his right.
Passing through the infantry, Fergus dashed across the plain. He was mounted on the horse the marshal had given him, as the other was not yet accustomed to stand fire. The noble animal, as if delighted to be on level ground again, and excited by the roar of battle, carried him along at the top of its speed without any need of urging. Fergus knew that on the heights behind the king and Keith would be anxiously watching him, for the peril of the cavalry was great; and the concussion of the guns was now causing the fog to lift rapidly and, as he rode, he could dimly make out dark masses of men all along the rising ground behind Sulowitz, and knew that the Austrian cavalry might, at any moment, sweep down on the Prussians.
He was drawing abreast of Lobositz, when suddenly a squadron of cavalry dashed out from the village. Their object was evidently to cut him off, and prevent any message that he might bear reaching the Prussian cavalry, which were now halted half a mile ahead. Their officers were endeavouring to reform them from the confusion into which they had fallen, from the speed at which they had ridden and the heavy losses they had sustained.
He saw, at once, that the Austrians would cross his line, and reined in his horse to allow Karl to come up to him. Had not the trooper been exceptionally well mounted, he would have been left far behind. As it was, while pressing his charger to the utmost, he was still some fifty yards in rear of Fergus.
As soon as he came up, the latter said:
“We must cut our way through the Austrians. Ride close to me. We will ease our horses a little, until we are within fifty yards, and then go at them at full speed. If I fall and you get through, carry the orders to retire to the general commanding the cavalry.”
The Austrian cavalry had formed up in two troops, one twenty yards behind the other, and each in line two deep, extending across the road by which Fergus was riding. Seeing, by the speed at which he was travelling, that the Prussian staff officer had no intention of surrendering, the Austrian in command gave the order to charge, when they were some fifty yards away.
“Now, Karl, boot to boot. Go right at them!”
And with pistols in their left hands, and their swords in their right, they sent their horses at full speed against the enemy. These had scarcely got into motion when, like a thunderbolt, Fergus and his orderly burst down upon them.
The shock was irresistible. Their horses were much heavier and more powerful than those of the Austrians, and their weight and impetus carried all before them. Not a blow was struck. Horse and rider went down before them, or were swept aside. They were scarcely conscious that they were through, before they encountered the second line.
Here the fight was much more severe. Fergus cut down two of his opponents and, with a pistol shot, rid Karl of an antagonist who was pressing him hard; and after a minute of wild confusion they were through the line, and riding at headlong speed towards the Prussians. Pistols cracked out behind them, but before the Austrians had time to turn and aim they were already fifty yards away, and going at a speed that soon left their pursuers behind. As soon as the latter saw this they drew off, and trotted back to Lobositz.
Fergus rode up to the officer commanding the cavalry.
“I bear the king’s orders to you, general, to retire at once with your command.”
It was time, for a body of Austrian cavalry, of much greater strength, could be seen galloping towards them from the high ground half a mile distant. In half a minute the Prussians were in motion but, as they returned, the storm of fire from the two villages burst out again with redoubled violence. Men and horses rolled over but, closing up quickly, the squadrons swept on.
The general remained stationary until his last squadron thundered by, and then galloped forward again and took his place at their head. Fergus had followed him, when there was a sudden crash, and he was thrown with tremendous force over his horse’s head, and there lay stunned with the shock.
When he recovered he staggered to his feet, and saw that he was surrounded by Austrian cavalry; these having halted just where he fell, as pursuit of the Prussians was hopeless, and the balls from the Prussian batteries were falling thick.
“You are our prisoner, sir,” an officer said to him.
“So I see,” Fergus said bitterly. “It is hard luck, just at the beginning of the campaign.”
“It is the fortune of war,” the Austrian said with a smile; “and indeed, I don’t think that you have any reason to grumble for, had that shot struck
a few inches farther back, it would have carried off both your legs.”
A sharp order was now given to retire. One of the troopers was ordered to give his horse to Fergus, and to mount behind a comrade; and they rode back to the Austrian main position, on the rising ground. Fergus was at once taken to the marshal in command of the Austrians.
“What is your name, sir?” the latter asked.
“Fergus Drummond. I have the honour to be an aide-de-camp on Marshal Keith’s staff.”
“A Scotchman, I suppose?” the marshal said, breaking into English.
“Yes, sir.”
“What force is there opposed to us?”
“That I cannot say, sir. I only joined the army two days ago, and have been on the march ever since.”
“Who is its commander?”
“Marshal Keith, sir; but the king himself is with it.”
“I will see that you are made comfortable, presently, Mr. Drummond.
“Captain Wingratz, will you conduct this officer to the rear, and place a couple of soldiers to see that he is not annoyed or interfered with, in any way?”
Fergus was led away. Captain Wingratz called up two troopers and, choosing an elevated spot of ground, told them to dismount and allow no one to speak to the officer.
“From here,” he said courteously to Drummond, “you will get a view of the field of battle.”
Fergus sat down on the grass, and remained a spectator of the fight to the end of the day. He marked at once that the combat had rolled down the hill, and that the Prussians were making their way in force towards Lobositz. Then he saw heavy masses of infantry, from the Austrian right, move forward to aid in its defence. For two hours the battle raged round the village, the whole of the guns on both sides aiding in the fight. Then volumes of smoke and flame rose, and the Austrians were seen retiring. Sulowitz still kept up a heavy fire, and he saw a strong body from the Austrian left move down there; while the centre advanced to cover the retreat of the defenders of Lobositz, and to check the advancing masses of the Prussians; and he thought, for a time, that a general engagement was about to take place. Then he saw the Prussian advance cease, the roar of cannon gradually died away, and the battle was at an end.
For an hour he remained, apparently unnoticed, then Captain Wingratz rode up with another officer.
“I am sorry to have neglected you so long, Lieutenant Drummond; but you see it was the fault of your own people, who have kept us so busy. This is Lieutenant Kerr, a compatriot of yours, who will take special charge of you.”
“I am sorry that our meeting cannot take place under more favourable circumstances,” Kerr said, holding out his hand. “It might well have been the other way.
“Now come with me to my tent. I have no doubt that you are hungry; I can assure you that I am.”
The two walked together for about a quarter of a mile, the Austrian officer having left as soon as he had introduced them.
“There were three of us here this morning,” Kerr said, as they entered the tent. “The other two are missing. One I know is killed; the other badly wounded, but whether he is dead or a prisoner I cannot say.
“By the way, are you not the officer who cut his way through the squadron of our regiment, and went on and joined your cavalry, who at once fell back? I was in Lobositz, myself. My squadron was not ordered out. As I hear that you were found by our cavalry as they followed the Prussians, it struck me that it might be you; although from Lobositz we could only see that it was a staff uniform that the officer wore.”
“Yes, it was I. I was carrying an order for the cavalry to retire.”
“That was what we supposed, as soon as you were seen coming down the valley; and as it would have suited us much better for the Prussian cavalry to have stayed where it was for a little longer, the general sent out a squadron to intercept you. It was a splendid thing to do, on your part. Of course, there were a number of us watching from the earthworks, and I can assure you that there was a general inclination to cheer as you cut your way through our fellows. I am sure that if I had known that it was a countryman I should have done it, though the action was at the expense of my own regiment.
“Our squadron suffered heavily as they rode back again, for that battery from the Homolka turned its attention to them, as soon as you had gone through. They had an officer and nearly thirty men killed and wounded before they got back into shelter.
“How long have you been out here?”
“Only about two months.”
“Really! You are lucky in getting onto Keith’s staff.”
“He is a cousin of my mother’s,” Fergus said.
“And he made you lieutenant, and aide-de-camp, at once.”
“No. I was first a cornet, but I was promoted at Dresden. The king had given strict orders about plundering, and it happened that I came upon some marauders at their work, and had the good fortune to rescue a gentleman of some importance from their hands; and the king, who was furious at his orders being disobeyed, himself promoted me.
“I had been lucky enough to get myself wounded in the affair. As I lost a good deal of blood, I looked no doubt a good deal worse than I was, and I expect that had a good deal to do with my getting the step.”
“Well, you are a lucky fellow. I was eight years a cornet before I got promoted.”
“I think my bad luck, in getting captured, balances my good fortune in being promoted so soon.”
“To some extent perhaps it does, but you will get the benefit when you return. No doubt Fritz was watching you, as you rode. He must have seen our cavalry coming down the slope, before the man in command of your squadrons could have done so; and must have felt that they were lost, unless his orders were received. He must have been relieved, indeed, when he saw you reach them.”
This had indeed been the case. The king and marshal had both been watching through their glasses the Prussian cavalry, and marked how the ground behind them was dotted thickly with the bodies of horses and men.
“Will they never stop?” the king said impatiently. “These cavalry men are always getting into scrapes with their impetuosity. Gorlitz must have known that he was only sent forward to ascertain the position of the Austrians, and not to fight their whole army. He ought to have turned, as soon as that crossfire of their batteries opened upon them.”
“He knew that your majesty and the whole army would be watching him, sire,” Keith said quietly; “and I fancy that, under such circumstances, few cavalry men would draw rein till they had done something worthy of themselves.”
At this moment the fog wreath moved away.
“See,” the king exclaimed, “there is a great body of Austrian cavalry moving along behind Sulowitz. That rise behind the village must hide them from our men.
“Where is your messenger, Keith?”
“There he goes, sire. He is well out of the valley now and, by the pace he is riding at, he won’t be long before he reaches them.”
“He won’t reach them at all,” the king said curtly, a minute later. “See, there is a squadron of horse riding out from Lobositz, to cut him off. No doubt they guess what his errand is.”
“I see them, sire, and he must see them, too. He is checking his horse, for his orderly is coming up to him.”
“Then the cavalry will be lost,” the king said. “The enemy’s batteries are playing havoc with them, and they will have the Austrians down upon them in a few minutes.
“Ah! I expect Gorlitz sees them now. Our men are halting, and forming up. I suppose he means to charge the Austrians when they come up, but there are three to one against him. He is lost.”
“There is hope yet, sire,” Keith said, as he again turned his glass on Fergus. “My aide-de-camp is going to charge the Austrian squadron.”
“So he is!” the king exclaimed, lowering his glass, for the distance was little more than half a mile from the spot where he stood. “He must be mad.”
“It is possible he may do it, sire. His orderly is riding b
oot to boot beside him. You know already that he is a good swordsman. He will have the advantage that the enemy won’t dream of his attacking them, and the rate at which they are riding will help them through.
“There he goes!” and he raised the glass again to his eye. “Bravo! They are through the first troop, and still together. Now they are at it.
“There, sire, they are through the second troop. Bravo, Fergus!”
The king made no remark until he saw the Austrian squadron draw rein. Then he said:
“Thank God, he has saved the cavalry! It was a glorious deed. Marshal Keith, make out his commission as a captain, today.”
“He is very young, sire,” the marshal said hesitatingly.
“By Heaven, sir, I would promote him if he were an infant in arms!” the king replied. “Why, Keith, the loss of half our cavalry would have crippled us, and cavalry men are not made in a day.
“There, he has reached them now. I see they are wheeling. Well and quickly done! Yes, they won’t be overtaken; but three minutes later, and not a man would have come back.
“Colonel Rogner,” he said to one of the group of officers behind him, “you will please ride down and meet the cavalry, when they come in, and convey to Lieutenant Drummond my highest satisfaction at the gallant manner in which he has carried out my orders. You will also inform General Gorlitz that, in my opinion, he pushed his reconnaissance much too far; but that I am well content with the bravery shown by the troops, and at the manner in which he drew them off on receipt of my order.”
In five-and-twenty minutes the colonel returned, and said:
“I regret to say, your majesty, that Lieutenant Drummond is missing. I have inquired among the officers and find that, as he was following General Gorlitz, he and his horse suddenly pitched forward and lay without movement. Evidently the horse was killed by a cannon shot, but whether Mr. Drummond was also killed, they could not say.”
“We must hope not,” the king said warmly. “I would not lose so gallant a young officer, for a great deal.