by G. A. Henty
The two officers agreed, but not without grave doubts; for to them it was quite a serious matter to relax, even in a prison, the stringent rules that guided the relation of officers to each other in the Prussian army.
“It is a strong place,” Fergus went on, “but I don’t know that it is as difficult to break out of as the last place I was in.”
“Have you been a prisoner before?” the two officers asked together, for both belonged to a regiment that was not with Frederick at Lobositz, and had indeed only recently come down from Berlin.
“Yes, I was taken at Lobositz and marched to Spielberg, and managed to get away from there. It is a long story, and will do to pass away the evening, when we have got the fire and can sit comfortably and talk round it. My cell there was so high in the castle that, with the wall and the rock below, there was a fall of a hundred and fifty feet, at least; so that the difficulties of escape were a good deal greater than they are here—or perhaps I should say seemed to be a good deal greater, for I don’t know that they were.
“There is the tramp of a sentry outside. I suppose he walks up and down the whole length of the six casemates. I counted them as we came in. We are at one end, which, of course, is an advantage.”
“Why so?” one of the others asked with a puzzled expression of face.
“Well, you see, the sentry only passes us once to every twice he passes the casemate in the middle, and has his back to us twice as long at a time.”
“I should not have thought of that,” Stauffen said. “Yes, I can see that if we were escaping through this door, which seems to me impossible, that it would be an advantage;” and he glanced at his companion, as if to say that there was more in this fortunate young officer than they had thought.
Among the officers who had served throughout with Frederick, the manner in which Fergus had gained his promotion was well known. His rescue of Count Eulenfurst and his family was the general subject of talk at Dresden, and even putting aside the gallantry of the action, it was considered that the army in general were indebted to him, for having saved them from the disgrace that would have attached to them had this murderous outrage been carried out successfully. The manner in which he had saved half the Prussian cavalry from destruction, by his charge through the Austrian squadron, had similarly been talked over, in every regiment engaged at Lobositz. Those who had been at Zorndorf were cognizant of the fact that he had gained his majority by saving the king’s life, as this had been mentioned in the general orders of the day.
The regiment, however, to which the two officers belonged had come down from Berlin but six months before; and had formed a part of the command of Prince Maurice until Frederick had returned from Zorndorf, and had, with a portion of the force of Prince Maurice, marched out to compel Daun to abandon his impregnable position at Stolpen. They had not particularly observed Fergus on their journey south; and when, during the last two or three days of the march, they had noticed him, they had regarded him as some fortunate young fellow who had, by royal favour, received extraordinary promotion, and had been pushed up over the heads of older men simply from favouritism. Thus their manner towards him had been even more stiff and ceremonious than usual.
“Do you think, then,” Stauffen said, “that there is any chance of our making our escape?”
“Oh, I have not had time to think about it, yet!” Fergus laughed. “There is generally a way, if one can but find it out; but I have no doubt that it will take a good deal of thinking before we hit upon it, and if it does nothing else for us, it will be an amusement through the long evenings to have to puzzle it out. There is no hurry, for it is not likely that there will be any more fighting before the army goes into winter quarters; and so that we are there when the campaign opens in the spring, it will be soon enough.”
The door opened now. Two soldiers brought in a stove. It was placed nearly in the centre of the room. The flue went up to the top of the arch, and then turned at right angles, and passed out of the casemate through a hole just over the window.
After lighting the stove, they brought in two bundles of rushes and spread them over the floor; and then carried in a tray with dinner, and placed it on the little table. There were three stools standing by the side of the three barrack beds, each placed in a corner of the room. These they carried to the table.
The others waited to see upon which side Fergus placed his. He put it down on one side.
“Excuse me, major,” Stauffen said, changing it—putting him facing the fire, and placing his own on one side, while his companion was opposite to him.
Then they stood, stiffly waiting, until Fergus, with a shrug of his shoulders, took his place.
The dinner consisted of a thin soup, followed by the meat of which it had been made, stewed up and served with a good gravy and two sorts of vegetables. The bread was white and good. A bottle of rough country wine was placed by the side of each.
“The commandant feeds us better here than I was fed at Spielberg,” Fergus said cheerfully. “If I got broth there I did not get meat; if I had meat I had no broth; and they only gave me half a bottle of wine. The commandant evidently does as he says, and makes the money he gets for our keep go far. Let us drink his health, and a better employment to him. He evidently feels being kept here, instead of being with the army in the field. In fact, he is just as much a prisoner as we are, without even the satisfaction of being able to talk over plans for escape.
“Ah! I see he has sent a box of cigars, too. I finished my last as we rode here today, and was wondering when I should be able to get some more in; also tobacco for my pipe. I hope you both smoke.”
Stauffen and his companion, whose name was Ritzer, both did so.
“I am glad of that,” Fergus said. “I think it is very cheery and sociable when everyone smokes, but certainly when only two out of three do, it looks somehow as if the one who does not is left out in the cold. I never smoked until I came out here, two years and a half ago; but there is no doubt that at the end of a day’s hard work, or when you have got to do a long ride in the dark, it is very comforting.”
His efforts to keep the conversation going were not very successful. The two officers were evidently determined to maintain the distinction of rank and, saying to himself that they would probably soon get tired of it, he ceased to attempt to break down the barrier they insisted upon keeping up. After dinner was over they lighted their cigars, and then went out and mounted the steps from the yard to the ramparts.
They were soon joined by the officers from the other casemates and, separating into groups, strolled up and down, making remarks on the country round and the town behind them. Fergus had at once left his fellow prisoners and joined two or three others with whom he had been previously acquainted, one being a captain of the 3rd Royal Dragoons.
“You are with Stauffen and Ritzer, are you not, major?” the latter said. “I have a brother in the same regiment, and so know them. How do you get on with them?”
“At present they are rather stiff and distant, and insist upon treating me as the senior officer; which is absurd when we are prisoners, and they are both some fifteen years older than I am. I detest that sort of thing. Of course in a great garrison town like Berlin or Dresden the strict rules of discipline must be observed. I think they are carried altogether too far, but as it is the custom of the service there is nothing to be said about it; but here, as we are all fellows in misfortune, it seems to me simply ridiculous.”
“It becomes a second nature after a time,” the officer said. “The two with me are both lieutenants, and I should feel a little surprised if they did not pay me the usual respect.”
“Yes, but then you are the older man, and would naturally take the lead, in any case. To me, I can assure you, it is most disagreeable to have men much older than myself insisting upon treating me as their superior officer; especially as, their regiment having only recently joined us, I suppose they set me down as some young favourite or other, who has got his promotion over
the heads of deserving officers because he is related to someone in power.”
“They ought to know that there is not much promotion to be gained in that way in our army, major. The king is the last man who would promote anyone for that cause. Why, Schwerin’s son has served for four years and is still a cornet in our regiment! No doubt the king would be glad to promote him if he specially distinguished himself, but as he has had no opportunity of doing so, he will probably work his way up in the regiment as everyone else does.”
Two or three more officers came up and joined the party, and presently Captain Ronsfeldt strolled away and joined another group. It was not long before he engaged Stauffen and Ritzer in conversation.
“You have Major Drummond in with you, have you not?”
“Yes,” Stauffen said shortly. “Who is the young fellow, do you know him?”
“Yes, he first joined our regiment as junior cornet. It was less than two years and a half ago. I was senior lieutenant at the time, and now I am pretty well up on the list of captains, thanks to the work we have done and the vacancies that death has made.”
“And that boy has gone over your head, and is now walking about as a major, with the order on his breast. It is enough to make one sick of soldiering. Who is he related to?”
“He is related to Marshal Keith,” Ronsfeldt said quietly.
“Ah! That explains it.”
“I don’t think you quite understand the case, Stauffen. Certainly you don’t, if you think that there has been any favouritism. I don’t think anyone ever heard of Frederick promoting a man out of his turn, save for merit; and I suppose there is no one in the army who has won his rank more worthily, and who is more generally recognized as deserving it. I have never heard a single word raised against the honours he has received.
“When he rides through the camp men nudge each other and say, ‘That young fellow in staff uniform is Major Drummond;’ and there is not a soldier but tries to put a little extra respect into his salute.”
“Are you joking, Ronsfeldt?” Ritzer asked in astonishment.
“I was never less so, Ritzer;” and he then gave them an account of the manner in which Fergus had obtained his promotion.
The two officers were silent when Ronsfeldt concluded.
“We have made fools of ourselves,” Stauffen said at last, “and we must apologize, Ritzer.”
“Certainly we must,” the other agreed heartily. “It seemed to us that his trying to make us put aside the respect due to his rank was a sort of affectation, and really impressed it more disagreeably upon us. We took him for an upstart favourite; though we might have known, had we thought of it, that the king never promotes unduly. Who could possibly have believed that a young fellow, not yet twenty, I should say, could have so distinguished himself? It will be a lesson to us both not to judge by appearances.”
The day was cold and cheerless, and after an hour spent on the rampart most of the party were glad to return to the casemates. Fergus was one of the last to go back. To his disgust the two officers rose and saluted formally, as he came in.
“We wish,” Captain Stauffen said, “to express to you our deep regret at the unworthy way in which we received your request, this morning, to lay aside the distinction of rank while we are prisoners here. We were both under an error. Our regiments having only joined from Berlin a short time before the king marched with us to Hochkirch, we were altogether ignorant of the manner in which you had gained your rank, and had thought that it was the result of favouritism. We now know your highly distinguished services, and how worthily you have gained each step; and we both sincerely hope that you will overlook our boorish conduct, and will endeavour to forget the manner in which we received your kindly advances.”
“Say no more about it, gentlemen,” Fergus replied heartily. “I have had luck, and availed myself of it, as assuredly you would have done had the same opportunities occurred to you. I can quite understand that it seemed to you monstrous that, at my age, I should be your senior officer. I feel it myself. I am often inclined to regret that I should thus have been unduly pushed up.
“However, let us say no more about it. I do hope that we shall be as three good comrades together; and that, within this casemate at any rate, there will be no question whatever of rank, and that you will call me Drummond, as I shall call you both by your names.
“Now, let us shake hands over the bargain. Let us draw our stools round the stove and have a comfortable talk.
“I have been speaking to Major Leiberkuhn about ordering things. He tells me that the commandant says that one list must be made. On this the orders of each of the casemates must be put down separately. A sergeant will go out every day with it. Money must be given to him to cover the full extent of the orders. He will return the change, each day, when he hands in the articles required.
“I have ordered some tobacco, some better cigars than these, and three bottles of good Hungarian wine. The sergeant is going in half an hour, so we shall be able to enjoy our chat this evening. I always take the precaution of carrying twenty golden Fredericks, sewn up in the lining of my tunic. It comes in very useful, in case of an emergency of this kind.”
“I am afraid that neither of us has imitated your forethought,” Ritzer said with a laugh. “I have only my last month’s pay in my pocket, and Stauffen is no better off.”
“Ah, well! With thirty pounds among us, we shall do very well,” Fergus said. “We must be careful because, if we do make our escape, we shall want money to get disguises.”
“You are not really in earnest, Drummond,” Stauffen said, “in what you say about escaping?”
“I am quite in earnest about getting away, if I see a chance; though I admit that, at present, the matter seems a little difficult.”
“Perhaps if you will tell us about your escape from Spielberg, we shall be able to get a hint from it.”
They now drew up their seats round the stove, and Fergus told them in detail the manner of his escape, omitting only the name of the noblemen at Vienna who had assisted him.
“It was excellently done,” Ritzer said warmly. “Your making off in that Austrian uniform, at the only moment when such a thing could be done, was certainly a masterly stroke.”
“So was the taking of the post horses,” Stauffen agreed, “and your getting a disguise from the postmaster. I should like to have seen the Austrian’s look of surprise, when he got his uniform back again.
“I am afraid that your adventures do not afford us any hint for getting away from here. Even you will admit that three Austrian uniforms could not be secured, and the tale by which you procured the post horses would hardly hold good in the case of three.”
“No, if we get away at all it must be done in an entirely different manner. The place is not so difficult to get out of as Spielberg was, for with patience we could certainly manage to cut off the rivet heads of the bars. But I don’t see, at present, how we could cross this wide moat, with a sentry pacing up and down thirty feet above us; nor climb up the brick wall on the other side, without making a noise. That done, of course we could, on a dark night, cross the glacis and swim the outer moat. All that accomplished, the question of disguises will come in. Just at present it is not very easy to see how that is to be managed.
“Can you swim?”
Both officers replied in the affirmative.
“Well, that is something gained. As to the rest, we need not bother about it, at present. We are not uncomfortable where we are, and if we get back in time for the next campaign, that is all that really matters.”
The others laughed at the confident tone in which he spoke, but after hearing the details of the prior attempt, it seemed to them that their companion was capable of accomplishing what almost seemed to be impossibilities. They had, they knew, very slight chance of being exchanged so long as the war lasted. A few general officers, or others whose families possessed great influence, were occasionally exchanged; but it was evidently the policy of Austriato r
etain all prisoners. In the first place she desired to reduce Frederick’s fighting force, and in the second, the number of Austrians taken had been very much larger than that of the Prussians captured, and the support of some fifteen or twenty thousand prisoners of war added to the drain on Frederick’s resources. Three campaigns had passed without materially altering the position of the combatants, and as many more might elapse before the war came to an end. Indeed, there was no saying how long it might last, and the prospect was so unpleasant that the two officers were inclined to run a very considerable risk in attempting to obtain freedom.
A week later the snow began to fall heavily, and the moat froze.
“There is no getting across that without being seen, even on the darkest night,” Fergus said, as he walked up and down the rampart with his two companions, “unless the sentry was sound asleep; and in such weather as this, that is the last thing likely to happen. Unless something altogether unexpected occurs, we shall have to postpone action till spring comes.
“Now that we have bought some books we can pass the time away comfortably. It was a happy thought of Major Leiberkuhn that each of us should buy one book, so that altogether we have got some forty between us; which, taking our reading quietly, will last us for a couple of months. They mayn’t be all equally interesting; but as the sergeant bought them second-hand, at about half a franc a volume, we can lay in another stock without hurting ourselves, whenever we choose.”
A few days later they bought several sets of draughts, chessmen, and dominoes, and a dozen packs of cards. This had been arranged at a general meeting, held in the major’s casemate. Strict rules had been laid down that there should be no playing for money. Several of the prisoners had had only a few marks in their pockets when captured.