Tom Burke Of "Ours", Volume II. Lever Charles James
with us, then, Burke, – that’s agreed,” said Tascher. “They ‘re excellent fellows, these cuirassiers of ours, and I know you ‘ll like them.”
With this promise we parted, hoping to meet on the morrow.
CHAPTER VI. THE MILL ON THE HOLITSCH ROAD
At an early hour on the morning of the 4th came orders for the “Garde à Cheval” to hold themselves in readiness, with two squadrons of the carabineers, on the road to Holitsch; part of this force being under the command of General d’Auvergne. We found ourselves fully equipped and in waiting soon after eight o’clock. From the “tenue” and appearance of the troops, it was evident that no measure of active service was contemplated; yet, if a review were intended, we could not guess why so small a force had been selected. As usual on such occasions, many conjectures were hazarded, and a hundred explanations passed current, – one scarcely a whit better than the other, when at last we perceived a peloton of dragoons advancing towards us at a brisk trot.
The word was passed to close up and draw swords; and scarcely was it obeyed when the staff of the Emperor came up. They were all in the full blaze of their gala uniforms, brilliant with crosses and decorations. Napoleon alone wore the simple costume of the “Chasseurs of the Garde,” with the decoration of the Legion; but his proud look and his flashing eye made him conspicuous above them all. He was mounted on his favorite charger “Marengo,” and seemed to enjoy the high spirit of the mettled animal, as he tossed his long mane about, and lashed his sides with his great silken tail.
As the cortége passed we closed up the rear, and followed at a sharp pace, more than ever puzzled to divine what was going forward. After about two hours’ riding, during which we never drew bridle, we saw a party of staff-officers in front, who, saluting the Emperor, joined the cortége. At the same instant General d’Auvergne passed close beside me, and whispered in my ear. “Bernadotte has just come up, and been most coldly received.” I wished to ask him what was the object of the whole movement, but he was gone before I could do so. In less than a quarter of an hour afterwards we left the highroad, and entered upon a large plain, where the only object I could perceive was an old mill, ruined and dilapidated. Towards this the imperial staff rode forward, while the peloton in front wheeled about, and rode to the rear of our squadrons. The next moment we were halted, and drawn up in order of battle.
While these movements were going forward, I remarked that the Emperor had dismounted from his horse and dismissed his staff, all save Marshal Berthier, who stood at a little distance from him. Several dismounted dragoons were employed in lighting two immense fires, – a process which Napoleon appeared to watch with great interest for a second or two; and then, taking out his glass, he remained for several minutes intently surveying the great road to Holitsch.
In this direction at once every eye was turned; but nothing could we see. The road led through a wide open country for some miles, and at last disappeared in the recesses of a dark pine wood, that covered the horizon for miles on either side. Meanwhile Napoleon, with his hands clasped behind his back, walked hurriedly backwards and forwards beside the blazing fires, stopping at intervals to look along the road, and then resuming his walk as before. He was not more than two hundred paces from where we stood, and I could mark well his gesture of impatience, as he closed his glass each time, after looking in vain towards Holitsch.
“I say, Burke,” whispered one of my brother officers beside me, “I should not fancy being the man who keeps him waiting in that fashion. Look at Berthier, how he keeps aloof; he knows that something is brewing.”
“What can it all mean?” said I. “Who can he be expecting here?”
“They say now,” whispered my companion, “that Davoust cannot hold the bridge of Goding, and must fall back before the Russian column; and that Napoleon has invited Alexander to a conference here to gain time to reinforce Davoust.”
“Exactly; but the Czar is too wily an enemy for that to succeed; and probably hence the delay, which appears to irritate him now.”
The supposition, more plausible than most of those I heard before, was still contradicted by the account of the Emperor Alexander’s retreat; and again was I at a loss to reconcile these discrepancies, when I beheld Napoleon, with his glass to his eye, motion with his hand for Berthier to come forward. I turned towards the road, and now could distinguish in the distance a dark object moving towards us. A few minutes after the sun shone out, and I remarked the glitter of arms, stretching in a long line; while my companion, with the aid of a glass, called out, —
“I see them plainly; they are lancers. The escort are Hungarians, and there’s a calèche, with four horses in front.”
The Emperor stood motionless, his arms folded on his breast, and his head a little leaned forward, exactly as I have seen him represented in so many pictures and statues. His eyes were thrown downwards; and as he stirred the blazing wood with his foot, one could easily perceive how intensely his mind was occupied with deep thought.
The clattering sound of cavalry now turned my attention to another quarter; and I saw, exactly in front of us, and about five hundred paces off, a regiment of Hungarian Hussars, and some squadrons of Hulans drawn up. I had little time to mark their gorgeous equipment and splendid uniform, for already the calèche had drawn up at the roadside, and Prince John of Lichtenstein, descending, took off his chapeau, and offered his arm to assist another to alight. Slowly, and, as it seemed, with effort, a tall thin figure, in the white uniform of the Austrian Guard, stepped from the carriage to the ground. The same instant the officers of the staff fell back, and I saw Napoleon advance with open arms to embrace him. The Austrian emperor – for it was Francis himself – seemed scarcely able to control the emotion he felt at this moment; and we could see that his head rested for several seconds on Napoleon’s shoulder. And what a moment must that have been! How deeply must the pride of the descendant of the Cæsars have felt the humiliation which made him thus a suppliant before one he deemed a mere Corsican adventurer! What a pang it must have cost his haughty spirit as he uttered the words, Mon frère!
As they walked side by side towards the plateau, where the fires were lighted, it was easy to mark that Napoleon was the speaker, while Francis merely bowed from time to time, or made a gesture of seeming assent.
As the Emperor arrived at the place of conference, we fell back some fifty yards; and although the air was still and frosty, and the silence was perfect around, we could not catch a word on either side. After about an hour the conversation appeared to assume a tone of gayety and good-humor, and we could hear the sovereigns laughing repeatedly.
The conference lasted for above two hours, when once more the emperors embraced, and, as we thought, with more cordiality, and separated; the Emperor of Austria returning, accompanied by Prince Lichtenstein; while Napoleon stood for some minutes beside the fire as if musing, and then, beckoning his staff to follow, he walked towards the highroad.
Scarcely had the Austrian emperor reached his carriage, when Savary, bareheaded and breathless, stood beside the door of it. He was the bearer of a message from Napoleon. The next moment the calèche started, accompanied by Savary, who, with a single aide-de-camp, took the road towards the Austrian headquarters.
As Napoleon was about to mount his horse, I saw General d’Auvergne move forward towards him. A few words passed between them; and then the general, riding up to where I stood, said, —
“Burke, you are to remain here, and if any orders arrive from General Savary, hasten with them to the headquarters of his Majesty. In twelve hours you will be relieved.”
So saying, he galloped back to the imperial staff; and soon after the squadrons defiled into the road, the cortége dashed forward, and all that remained of that memorable scene was the dying embers of the fires beside which the fate of Europe was decided.
The old mill of Holitsch had been deserted when the Austrian and Russian columns took up their position before Austerlitz. The miller and his household fled at the first news of the advance, and had not dared to return. It was a solitary spot at best: a wild heath, without shelter of any kind, stretched away for miles on all sides; but now, in its utter loneliness, it was the most miserable-looking place that can be conceived. While, therefore,