CHAPTER IX.

FROM THE BEREZINA TO WILNA--THE JEWS.

I had been walking in advance of the regiment for about half an hour, when I met a sergeant of the Fusiliers-Chasseurs whom I knew. He seemed very happy about something (a most unusual thing), so I asked him if he had anything to eat.

'I have found some potatoes,' he said, 'in this village.'

I raised my head and saw that we were actually in a village at that moment. Walking with my eyes fixed on the ground, I had not noticed it. When I heard the word 'potatoes' I stopped him to ask in which house he had found them, and I ran there as fast as my legs would carry me. After much searching, I had the luck to find three little potatoes under an oven, about the size of nuts. I half cooked them on an almost extinct fire I found a little distance off the road. When they were done enough, I ate them with a bit of horseflesh, but I hardly tasted them, as the fever I had on me for the last few days had destroyed my appetite entirely, and I was sure that if it continued I should soon be dead.

When the regiment passed I took my place, and we marched as far as Ziemben, where the Emperor, with part of the Guard, had already arrived. We could see him gazing at the road to Borisow on our left, where we were told the Russians would come. Several of the horse-Guards were sent on in front, but no Russians were to be seen that day. The Emperor slept at Kamen with half the Guard, and we, the Fusiliers, Grenadiers, and Chasseurs, spent the night close by.

On the 30th the Emperor and his suite slept at Plechnitzie. We bivouacked some distance off. We arrived there on the following day, and heard that Marshal Oudinot had only just escaped being made prisoner there; that 2,000 Russians, with two field-pieces, had entered the place, and that the Marshal, although wounded, had entrenched himself in a house with twenty-five men, both officers and privates, many of them wounded. The Russians, astounded at these preparations for defence with so small a number of men, had retired on to some heights overlooking the house, and laid siege to it till the arrival of the Emperor with the troop of the Rhine Confederation and part of the Guard. As we passed, we looked at the house, pierced through by balls in many places. It seemed strange to us how 2,000 Cossacks had not sufficient courage to take an old wooden house defended by only twenty-five men.

On the next day, December 1st, we left early in the morning, and after an hour's march we reached a village, where the Fusiliers-Chasseurs had spent the night. They were waiting to set out with us. I made inquiries if there was anything to buy there, and was told by a sergeant-major that there was some gin to be had from a Jew. He took me to the place, and seeing the Jew with a long beard, I asked him politely in German if he had any gin for sale. 'No,' he answered rudely, 'I have none; the French have taken it all.' I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well he was telling a lie, and that he was only afraid of not being paid.

Just then a girl of fourteen or fifteen jumped down from a great stove she had been sitting on, and coming up to me, she said: 'If you will give me your silver lace, I will let you have a glass of brandy.' I said yes, so she took off the silver braid belonging to my haversack, worth thirty francs, which I had brought from Moscow. She hid it immediately in her dress, and gave me a miserable bit of cord instead. If I had allowed her, she would have taken the surgeon's pocket-case I had got from the Cossack, as she caught sight of the silver fittings. She then brought me a glass of very bad gin, but I felt so sick I could hardly swallow it. She also gave me a small oval-shaped cheese, the size of a hen's egg, smelling of aniseed. I put it carefully in my haversack, and went out.

I was hardly in the open air, when the abominable spirit flew to my head. I was obliged to cross a broad deep ditch on a tree thrown over to serve as a bridge. I danced across this without falling, and rushed in the same way amongst my comrades. More than that, I took hold of their arms, singing and trying to make them dance. Several of them, even officers, gathered round me, asking me what was the matter. I only sang and danced the more. The sergeant-major of our company took me a little way apart, and asked me where I came from. I told him that I had had some drink. 'Where?' 'Come with me,' I said. He followed, and we crossed the tree, holding each other by the hand. On the other side a friend of mine took my arm. This was a sergeant-major named Leboude, a Liegeois. He had just heard what I had been doing. When we got to the Jew's house, I told them if they had any gold or silver lace they could get some gin. 'If that's all,' said the Liegeois, 'here it is.' He had a very nice Astrakan cap, with a gold braid round it. The young Jewess took matters into her own hands again, and ripped off the braid. They gave us some gin, and we came away; but we were hardly out of the house, when the same kind of frenzy came over me, worse than before. It took hold of the Liegeois also, and he and I danced together. The sergeant-major looked at us, telling us to march back and rejoin our regiment. Instead of answering, we each took one of his arms, and danced towards the tree over the ditch. There the Liegeois slipped and fell, dragging the sergeant-major into the ditch, and me also. Under the snow in the ditch were more than two hundred dead bodies, thrown there during the last two days. At this sudden collapse the sergeant-major shrieked with rage and terror, swearing loudly at us. We were none of us hurt, however, and the Liegeois began to sing and dance afresh.

We had not the strength to get out again. Ice was everywhere under the snow, and when we got away from the dead bodies, it was too slippery to walk. If a company of Westphalians had not passed at that moment, there we should have stayed. They threw us ropes at first, but our hands were too much frozen to hold them. At last they put down the side of a cart, making a kind of ladder, and they helped us to mount by it. The fall had sobered the Liegeois and me a little. We rejoined the regiment, which had halted near a wood, and resumed our march. A mile farther on we met Prince Eugene, the vice-King of Italy, at the head of a small number of officers and a few Grenadiers of the Royal Guard, grouped round their colours. They were completely exhausted with fatigue. We made a good distance on that day, leaving a great many far behind. We found a deserted village, where we slept, and plenty of straw to lie down in. Horseflesh we had in abundance, but no saucepans to stew it or make soup in. We were therefore obliged, as on the preceding days, to eat some of the meat roasted; but at least we could sleep under shelter and make fires. During the night I was obliged to go out into the air several times, as I was quite unaccustomed to the heat of the houses.

On the next day we started early; this was December 2nd. My fever came on again, and my legs almost gave way under me, so that after an hour's march I found myself behind the others. I went through a small village filled with stragglers, but I passed through without stopping. A little further on I saw large numbers of men gathered outside some houses busy roasting horseflesh. General Maison passed by and stopped, telling everyone to follow him if they wished to escape the Russian cavalry, now not far off. Most of the men, however, were too much famished and too demoralized to listen; they would not leave their fires till they had eaten, and many of them were prepared to defend the piece of meat they held against the enemy. I went on my way. Further on I met several men of my company, and begged them not to leave me; they promised me they would follow me anywhere--that they were quite indifferent where they went. In the evening we stopped near a wood for the night. Already several men from different corps were there, especially of the Italian army, and a few Grenadiers of the 1st regiment of the Guard, of whom I asked news of Picart. They said they had seen him the day before, but that he seemed quite mad, and they thought his brain was affected.

I had never till now thought of looking in poor Gros-Jean's knapsack, which he had given me at the Berezina bridge. Now, as I felt certain he could not return, I opened it before two men of our company who were with me, and were, moreover, in his squadron. I found nothing of any importance, except a handkerchief containing oatmeal mixed with rye. One of the men happening to have a saucepan lid, we cooked the meal. I also found an old pair of shoes, but there was not a shirt, of which I was in great need; the rest was quite useless to me.

There was, fortunately, a great deal of wood about, so we made a large fire. The cold was endurable while the night lasted, but in the morning (the 3rd) a north wind got up, bringing with it twenty degrees of frost. We were forced to begin our march, as it was impossible to remain still. We started after eating some horseflesh, just following in the steps of those who walked before us, who knew no more than we did where they were, or in what direction they were going. The sun shone brilliantly, and the cold decreased a little; so we made good progress, stopping every now and then at houses with deserted bivouac fires. As far as I can remember, we slept in a posting-station.

The sun which we had enjoyed the day before was the forerunner of a terrible frost. I cannot write of this day, for I truly do not know how I got through it. When my comrades spoke to me, I answered as if I were mad. The cold was intolerable. Many took the first road they came to, in the hope of finding houses of some kind as shelter. We lost our way at last in following some Poles, who were going to Varsovia. One of them who spoke French assured me that we were more than a league from the road to Wilna. We tried to retrace our steps, and we lost ourselves again. We met three officers, followed by more than a hundred unfortunate men from different corps and of different nations, half dead with cold and want. When they heard from us that they were lost, many of them cried like children.

We were now near a pine-wood, so we decided to bivouac there with the men we had met. They had a horse, which we killed and divided amongst us. Two fires were made, and everyone cooked his meat at the point of his sword or a stick. When we had finished our meal, we gathered round the fires, and arranged that a quarter of the number should keep watch, as we feared we might be taken by the Russians, who were following the army on both sides of the road. An hour later the snow began to fall, and a high wind got up, driving us under the shelters we had made. The wind grew furious, driving the snow into the shelters, and entirely preventing us from sleeping, though we wanted it badly enough. I slept, however, seated on my knapsack, with my fur-lined collar on my head to keep off the snow. How many times during this miserable night I longed for my bearskin coat!

I did not sleep long, as a violent gust of wind carried away the shelter. I and my two men were forced to walk about to keep ourselves from freezing. When the dawn came at last, we set out on our march, leaving seven men behind in the bivouac, three of whom were already dead, and four unconscious.

At about eight o'clock we reached the high road, and after countless difficulties we arrived at Molodetschno at three in the afternoon, amid a rabble of men of all corps, especially of the army of Italy. The Emperor had slept here. We tried to find shelter for the night in some barn or stable, but found we were too late. We had to be content with a half-burnt house with no roof, and three-quarters filled with men already; but we considered ourselves lucky in getting any kind of shelter against the fearful cold, which went on increasing until we got to Wilna.

I heard later that it was from this place that the Emperor despatched his twenty-ninth bulletin, which caused such a sensation in France, announcing the destruction of our army. It was broad daylight when we started on the 5th. Mechanically we followed 10,000 men in front of us, marching in confusion, without knowing where they went. We crossed several marshes, where we should have all probably sunk and perished, but for the severe frost. Those who lagged behind were in no danger of losing their way, for the numbers of fallen men on the road served as guides. We arrived the next day at Brenitza. The Emperor had slept there, and had already left. This day we were more fortunate. I was able to buy a little flour, and we made some hasty-pudding; but we had not the luck to find a roofless house again, and were obliged to spend the night in the street. It was so bitterly cold that we got no sleep. The next morning we set off for Smorgony. The road was full of officers of different corps, and the remnants of the Doomed Squadron and Battalion, wrapped in worn-out furs, and half-burnt garments. Some had not even these, having, no doubt, parted with them for their friends. Many of them walked leaning on sticks, their beards and hair a mass of ice; others, no longer able to walk, looked vainly at the miserable men passing along the road, trying to find some part of the regiments they had commanded a fortnight before, and get help or an arm to lean on. It was all over, I fear, with those who could not walk.

The roads were like battlefields, there were so many dead bodies; but as the snow fell all the time, the horror of the sight was softened. We had lost all sense of pity, besides; we were insensible even to our own sufferings, let alone those of others. The men who fell imploring help were not listened to. Thus we arrived at Smorgony, on the 6th. On entering the town, we heard that the Emperor had left the evening before, at ten o'clock, for France, leaving the command of the army to King Murat. Many of the foreigners took advantage of this circumstance to blame the Emperor, but the step he took was a perfectly natural one, as, owing to Malet's conspiracy, his presence was necessary in France, not only for the administration, but to organize a new army. Amongst the numbers of dying men constantly arriving were others who were well dressed and vigorous, evidently foreigners, and these all exclaimed loudly at the Emperor's conduct. I have often thought since that these men were agents from England, come to create disaffection in the army.

In the crowd I lost one of the men who had been with me, but I had no time to look for him, I was so afraid of losing shelter for the night. Seeing an officer from Baden, who belonged to the garrison of the town, I followed him with my other man. He went to a Jew's house where he was quartered, and, seeing us after him, made no objection to our entrance. We sat down near a warm stove. One must go through the misery and suffering we had experienced to understand the delight of being in a warm house and having the prospect of a good night.

In the same room there was a young officer on the staff, ill with fever and lying on a wretched sofa. He told me that he had been ill ever since Orcha, and as he could go no farther, there was probably an end of him, as he would certainly be taken by the Russians. 'God knows,' he said, 'what will come of it, and what my poor mother will say when she learns!'

The Baden officer, who could speak French, tried to comfort him by saying that he would get him a horse for his sledge, as his own was dead. He promised soup and meat to us, but during the night he left with the rest of the garrison. The poor officer grew worse, and was delirious all night, and as for us, we got neither soup nor meat. We had only a few onions and some nuts the Jew had sold us, dearly enough, but the shelter was well worth the money.

After our rest we set out early on the 7th, as quietly as possible, so that the young officer might not hear us, as we could not possibly do anything for him. There were very few people on the road, and after a time we rested near a ruined barn. After half an hour, the column of the Imperial Guard came in sight; the fragment of our regiment was there, marching in as much order as possible. I joined their ranks. When we halted, they asked me, in an indifferent way, if I had found any food during the four days I had been away. When I told them I had nothing, they turned their backs to me, cursing and banging the butts of their muskets on the ground.

We continued our march, and got to Joupranoui very late; almost all the houses here were burnt, and the rest deserted, without roofs or doors. We huddled together as best we could, and as there was plenty of horseflesh, I cooked some ready for the next day.

On the 8th it was late when we started, but the cold was so intense that the men set fire to the houses to warm themselves. All the houses contained unfortunate soldiers, many of whom had not the strength to save themselves, and perished in the flames.

In the middle of the day we got to a small town the name of which I have forgotten. They told us that distributions of rations were to be made here, but we soon heard that the shops had been pillaged before our arrival, and that the people who had charge of the distributions had got away, and the commissaries also. We continued our route, therefore, striding over the dead and dying on our way. When we halted near a wood, one of the men of our company caught sight of a horse, and we gathered round to kill him, and each take some of the flesh; but as we had no knives or hatchets to cut it, we killed it for the sake of the blood, which we collected in a saucepan taken from a German _cantiniere_. Finding a deserted bivouac fire, we began to cook the blood, putting some powder in it for seasoning, but it was only half done when we caught sight of a legion of Cossacks. We had just time to eat it as it was, and this we had to do from our hands, so that our faces and clothes were covered with blood. We were ghastly objects to look at.

This halt, caused by some difficulty with the artillery, had gathered together more than 30,000 men of all nations, making a spectacle impossible to describe. We started off again, and reached a large village three or four leagues from Wilna. I recognised the village for the same we had stayed at five months before, in going from Wilna to Moscow. Here I had lost a trophy, that is to say, a little box containing rings, hair necklaces, and portraits of the mistresses I had had in all the countries I had visited. I was much grieved at losing my collection. On the 9th we left Wilna, in twenty-eight degrees of frost.[56] Scarcely 2,000 arrived at Wilna, out of two divisions of more than 10,000. These, both French and Neapolitans, had joined us during the last two days. This enormous number was lost during this terrible journey. The men were well clothed, and wanted for nothing but food. They had left good quarters in Lithuania and Pomerania only a few days before. When they came they were filled with pity for our condition, but in two days they were worse off than we. They were less demoralized, and at first they tried to help each other; but when they saw what deprivation this meant, they grew as selfish as all the others, officers and privates alike.

I had plucked up a little courage in the hope of soon getting to Wilna, where we should have abundant food. I should call the efforts we made superhuman. This terrible cold was more than I had ever felt before. I was almost fainting, and we seemed to walk through an atmosphere of ice. How often in the dreadful time did I long for my bearskin cloak, which had saved me so often in cold like this! I could hardly breathe: my nose felt frozen; my lips were glued together; my eyes streamed, dazzled by the snow. I was forced to stop and cover my face with my fur collar to melt the ice. In this style I got to a barn where there was a fire burning, and where one could breathe a little. In all the buildings we passed were unfortunate men not able to get any further, and waiting there to die.

Now we could see the spires and roofs of Wilna. I tried to hurry on to get there amongst the first, but the old Chasseurs of the Guard prevented me. They blocked up the road in such a manner that no one could pass them without marching in order. These veterans, with ice hanging to their beards and moustaches, marched on, controlling their own sufferings to keep order in the ranks; but this order it was impossible to maintain. Once in the outskirts of the town, everything was in confusion. At the door of a house I saw one of my old friends of the Grenadiers lying dead. They had arrived an hour before us. A house was chosen for our battalion, and a distribution of beef was made. We had not the sense to put it all together and make soup. We each fell on our allowance like wild beasts, every man cooking or warming it as he could, and some even devouring it raw. One of my friends named Poton, who was a Breton gentleman, and a sergeant in my company, waited impatiently for his piece, about half a pound. As he was a short distance off, it was thrown to him. He caught it with both hands, like a cat, and began eating it convulsively, in spite of everything we could do to prevent him. He was incapable of seeing anything but the meat before him.

Soon afterwards I went into the town to see if I could not buy some bread and a little brandy. But the doors were almost all shut and bolted. The inhabitants, although our friends, had taken fright on seeing fifty or sixty thousand famished men, most of whom looked imbecile or mad. Many of our men had rushed about like lunatics, knocking at all the doors and shops, but had been refused, as the contractors wished to do everything in order. This was impossible, as order did not exist.

I soon saw that I could not get what I wanted, and was about to go back to my quarters, when I heard my name called. I turned round, and to my great surprise saw Picart, who threw himself on my neck, crying with joy. He had come across the regiment twice since we passed the Berezina, but they had assured him that I was dead or taken prisoner. He said he had some flour, which I should share with him; and as for brandy, he would take me to his Jew, who would furnish me with that, and perhaps bread as well. I begged him to take me there while we were waiting for the distribution of rations. This we were sure to have later, as the shops were full.

I shall never forget the curious effect an inhabited house had on me. It seemed to me years since I had seen one. Picart gave me a little brandy, which I had great difficulty in swallowing. I then bought a bottle for twenty francs, which I carefully stowed away in my haversack. As to bread, I must wait for that till evening. For fifty days I had not tasted any, and it seemed that if only I could eat a little I should forget all my miseries. The Jew told me that the men who had arrived first in the morning had devoured everything. He advised us not to leave his house, even to sleep there, and that he would undertake to get us everything we wanted, also to prevent others from coming in. Taking his advice, I settled down to rest on a bench near the stove.

I asked Picart how it happened that he was on such friendly terms with the Jew, as I noticed they treated him as a member of the family. He said that he had passed himself off as the son of a Jewess, and that during the fortnight we had spent in the town in July he had attended their synagogue with them, and in consequence of this he had always got some schnapps to drink and some nuts to crack.

I had not laughed for long enough, but I burst out into a roar at this, until the blood poured down my lips. Picart went on with his funny stories, until suddenly we heard a rattle of artillery, and our host came hurriedly in. He looked dazed, and could not speak. At last he said that he had seen some Bavarian soldiers, followed by Cossacks, enter by the same gate at which we had come in.

The garrison of the town just then sounded the call. When Picart heard it, he seized his arms and came up to where I sat, unwilling to move.

'Come, _mon pays_,' he said, striking me on the shoulder; 'we belong to the Imperial Guard, and should be the first to go. We must not let these savages eat our bread. If you have strength, follow me, and we'll join with fellows who'll turn out these rascals.'

I followed Picart. A few men ran to join they hardly knew what, but a great number walked off as far as they could get, and the most part, quite indifferent to everything, paid no attention to what was going on.

When we got near the gate leading to the faubourg, we met a detachment of Grenadiers and Chasseurs of the Guard. Picart left me to take his proper place, and as I saw a few of our men following, and also some officers, I followed also, without knowing who commanded us or where we were going. We went up a mountain without any pretence of order, each one going as he could; many fell and remained behind. We had climbed, perhaps, two-thirds of the height--and I was astonished at having got so far--when I fell; and although helped up by a Lithuanian peasant, I could hardly rise. I begged the man not to leave me, and to secure his services I gave him about four francs in Russian money and some brandy in the little cup I still kept. The peasant was so delighted that I believe he would have carried me on his back. We went on over ground covered with dead men and horses. There were a great many firearms lying about. My peasant picked up a carbine and some cartridges, saying that he wished to fight the Russians himself. After great difficulty we at last reached the top of the mountain, where the Prussians were already fighting. Two hundred men, three-parts belonging to the Guard, were facing the enemy, consisting of cavalry, many of whom were scouts. As the Bavarians had in retreating left some men behind them, with two pieces of artillery, two discharges of grape-shot were sufficient to disperse them. As the position was untenable on account of the cold, we faced about to return to the town, where the greatest disorder prevailed. The garrison, almost entirely composed of foreigners, was in a state of panic. Some were preparing to leave the town, loading carts, sledges, and horses. On all sides we heard cries of 'Who has seen my horse?' 'Where has my cart got to?' 'Stop the man who is off with my sledge.' This disorder was mainly caused by the thieves who had followed us all through the retreat, and of whom I have spoken before. Now, seeing a good opportunity, they took advantage of it by seizing carts, horses, and sledges loaded with provisions, gold, and silver. The arrangements for departure were made by the commissariat, contractors, and other army employes, who now were making common cause with us. The thieves thus fled along the Kowno road, sure of not being pursued.

On entering the faubourg, I avoided the house where our battalion was quartered. I had two reasons for going into the town: firstly, for the bread I was to share with Picart; secondly, to let him know that I had taken part in the little expedition which had beaten the Russians. I ran to the right to find Picart, but to my surprise I was told that he had taken the first turning to the left, with ten other Grenadiers and Chasseurs, to be on guard for Murat. Murat had just left the town for the faubourg on the Kowno road.

I decided to look for him at Murat's quarters. On the way I passed the house where Marshal Ney was staying. Several Grenadiers of the line were before the door, warming themselves by a large fire, which gave me a terrible longing to be there, too. Seeing how wretched I looked, they made room for me. Many of them were quite strong and well dressed. When I showed my surprise at their appearance, they said they had not been as far as Moscow; they had been wounded at the siege of Smolensk, and left at Wilna, where they had remained ever since. Now they were well again and fit for fighting. I asked them if they could get me some bread. They answered as the Jew had done--that if I would return that evening, or stay with them, they were certain that I should have some. But, as I was obliged to go back to the battalion, I told the Grenadiers that I would return, and that I would give five francs for each loaf. Before leaving them, they told me that just before I arrived a German General had come to the Marshal, and had advised him to leave if he did not wish to be surprised by the Russians; but the Marshal had replied, pointing to a hundred Grenadiers warming themselves in the courtyard, that with those he could afford to laugh at all the Cossacks in Russia, and that he would sleep in the town.

I asked how many there were in the Marshal's body-guard.

'About sixty,' answered a drummer sitting on his drum; 'and another sixty we found here well and fit. I have been with the Marshal ever since the crossing of the Dnieper, and with him at our back we can manage those dogs of Cossacks. _Coquin de Dieu!_' he said, 'if it were not so cold, and if I hadn't frozen hands, I would sound the attack myself all day to-morrow.'

I returned to the faubourg, and found all my comrades asleep on the floor. There was a large fire, and the room was warm, and as I was completely worn out, I lay down with them.

It might be perhaps two o'clock in the morning when I awoke, and as I had now missed the rendezvous I had given the Marshal's Grenadiers, I told my comrades that I was going to the town to get some bread, and that now was a favourable time, as all the soldiers would be asleep; and, besides, I had some Russian bank-notes. Several of them tried to get up and go with me, but could not do so. Only one, Bailly, a sergeant, succeeded in rising, and the others gave us their money, amounting to about fifty francs.

It was a beautiful moonlight night, but when we were in the street it felt so bitterly cold that it would not have taken much to send us back into the house.

We met no one in the faubourg. At the gates of the town there was no sentry. The Russians could have got in as easily as we did. When we were opposite the first house on the left, I caught sight of a light through the entrance to the cellar, and, stooping down, I saw it was a bakehouse, and that bread was being made. The smell had made us aware of it before. My comrade knocked, and they asked us what we wanted. We answered: 'Open the door! We are Generals!' They opened at once, and we went in. They took us into a large room, where a number of officers were lying on the floor. They did not trouble to ask us if we were really what we pretended to be. For some time past it had been hardly possible to distinguish an officer from a private.

A very fat woman was standing against the cellar door, so we asked her if she had any bread to sell. She said no, it was not baked yet; we might go down to the cellar and see for ourselves. An officer lying on some straw, wrapped in a great cloak, got up and went down with us. Two bakers were there fast asleep, and looking all round, we could see nothing; and we began to think that the woman had spoken the truth, when on stooping down I saw under a kneading-trough a large basket, which I drew out. In it we found seven large loaves of white bread, weighing three or four pounds each, as good as those made in Paris. What luck! What a glorious find for men who had had no bread for fifty days! I began by taking possession of two, which I put under my arm and my cape. My comrade did the same, and the officer took the three others. This officer was Fouche, a Grenadier-Velite, then an Adjutant-Major in a regiment of the Young Guard, and a Major-General. We came out of the cellar, and found the woman still standing at the door. We said that we would return in the morning when the bread was baked, and she was so anxious to get rid of us that she opened the door, and we found ourselves in the street.[57]

As soon as ever we were free, we dropped our muskets into the snow, and began to bite into the loaves voraciously; but, as my lips were cracked and bleeding, I could not open my mouth as comfortably as I wished. Just then two men came up to us, asking if we had nothing to sell or exchange, and we saw that they were Jews. I told them that we had Russian bank-notes for a hundred roubles each, and asked how much they would give.

'Fifty,' said the first in German. 'Fifty-five,' said the other. 'Sixty,' went on the first.

He ended by offering us seventy-seven, and I made the condition that they should give us some _cafe-au-lait_. They consented. The second then came behind me and said, 'Eighty!' But the price was concluded, and, as the man had promised us coffee, we did not wish to bargain over again for twenty francs at most.

The Jew now conducted us to a banker, as he was only an agent. The banker was also a Jew. He asked us at once for our notes, of which we had to give nine; three of them belonged to me. He looked very closely at them, and passed into another room, while we sat down on a bench to wait, furtively handling our bread.

Our longing for the coffee promised us overcame our patience, and we called out for the banker. No one appeared. The idea suddenly came to us that we were going to be robbed. I said as much to my comrade, who thought so too. To compel attention, therefore, he struck their counter as hard as he could with the butt of his musket. As no one came to this summons either, he knocked against a wooden partition dividing the two rooms. The Jews came out, looking as if they were plotting something together. After again asking for our money, we were told to wait; but my comrade loaded his musket before their eyes, and I took one of them by the throat, demanding our notes. When they were convinced that we should make a scene to their disadvantage, they hastily counted out our money, the most part of it in gold. We took hold of the man who had led us to the place, and forced him to leave with us; but as soon as we were in the street he swore that what had occurred was no fault of his. We thought it better to believe him in view of the coffee he had promised us, and he took us to his house.

After our meal, my comrade wished to go back to the faubourg; but I felt so tired, and even ill, that I decided to stay where I was till the next day, thinking myself safe with two Bavarian cavalrymen. So I lay down on a sofa--perhaps it might be five o'clock in the morning.

I had only been resting about half an hour, when I was seized with the most violent colic, after which I was terribly sick, and continued so ill that I felt sure the Jew had poisoned me. I thought I must die, as I was so weak as to be unable to get to the bottle of brandy in my knapsack. I begged one of the Bavarians to give me some, and after that I felt better; so I lay down again on the sofa and dozed off. I do not know how long I slept, but when I awoke I discovered that my bread had gone. Only a very small piece was left, which, fortunately, I had put in my haversack, along with the bottle of brandy, and hung at my side. My Rabbi's cap had also disappeared, so, too, had the Bavarians. That, however, was not what distressed me the most, but my own position, which was a dreadful one; besides my colic and sickness, my right foot was frozen, and my wound had reopened. The first joint on the middle finger of my right hand was on the point of dropping off, and the terrible cold of the preceding day had poisoned my foot to such a degree that I could not get my boot on. I was forced to wrap it up in rags, after rubbing it over with the grease the Poles had given me, and a piece of sheepskin over all, which I tied on with string. The same process I repeated with my right hand.

I was about to go out, when the Jew asked me to stay, saying that he had some rice to sell. I bought some, thinking it would stop my complaint. I begged him to get me some sort of pot to cook it in, and he fetched me a little copper pan; I tied this and my boot to the knapsack, and after giving the man ten francs I went out.

As soon as I was in the street, I heard despairing cries, and I saw a woman weeping over a dead body at the door of a house. She stopped me, asking me to help her to get back what had been taken from her.

'I have been staying in this house since yesterday,' she said, 'with these scoundrels of Jews. My husband was very ill. During the night they took everything we had, and this morning I went out to get help. As I saw I should get none anywhere, I came back to nurse my poor husband; but when I arrived, imagine my horror at seeing his corpse at the door! The villains had taken advantage of my absence to assassinate him. Oh, monsieur,' she went on, 'do not leave me! Come with me!'

I said that was impossible, but the best thing she could do now was to join those who were leaving the town. She made a gesture with her hand to say she could not do it; and, as I had heard several musket-shots, I had to leave the unfortunate woman and go in the direction of Kowno. I got into a crowd of 10,000 men, women, and children all hurrying and thrusting past each other to get out first.

As chance would have it, I met a Captain of the Young Guard belonging to my own part of the country.[58] He had with him his Lieutenant, his servant, and a wretched horse. The Captain had no company left; his regiment had ceased to exist. I told him all my misfortunes, and he gave me a little tea and a piece of sugar, but directly afterwards a vast number of people coming after us separated us.

A drummer was beating the retreat at the head of the first crowd, very likely a detachment of the garrison I had not seen. We marched on for half an hour, and arrived at the end of the faubourg; then we could breathe a little, and each one walk as he would. When I got outside the town, I could not help thinking of the state of our army: five months before it entered the Lithuanian capital, proud and rejoicing; now it went out, fugitive and miserable.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 56: Many people said thirty or thirty-two degrees.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 57: Since then I have seen General Fouche, and, on my reminding him of this episode at Wilna, he told me that, after going out, he was nearly assassinated by the people of the house, who tried to make him pay for what we had taken.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 58: M. Debonnez, from Conde, killed at Waterloo.--_Author's Note._]