Through Russian Snows (33 page)

Julian had, since their retreat began, again recovered his spirits. He
was now not fighting to conquer a country against which he had no
animosity, but for his own life and that of the thousands of sick and
wounded.

"I am glad that we are in the rear-guard," he said to a number of
non-commissioned officers who were one evening, when they were fortunate
enough to be camped in a wood, gathered round a huge fire.

"Why so, Jules? It seems to me that we have the hardest work, and,
besides, there is not a day that we have not to fight."

"That is the thing that does us good," Julian replied. "The columns
ahead have nothing to do but to think of the cold, and hunger, and
misery. They straggle along; they no longer march. With us it is
otherwise. We are still soldiers; we keep our order. We are proud to
know that the safety of the army depends on us; and, if we do get
knocked over with a bullet, surely that is a better fate than dropping
from exhaustion, and falling into the hands of the peasants."

"You are right, Jules," several of them exclaimed. "It is better a
thousand times."

"We have a bad prospect before us," Julian went on. "There is no denying
that; but it will make all the difference how we face it. Above all
things we have got to keep up our spirits. I have heard that the
captains of the whalers in the northern seas do everything in their
power to interest and amuse their crews. They sing, they dance, they
tell stories of adventures, and the great thing is to keep from brooding
over the present. I am but a young sergeant, and most of you here have
gone through many a campaign, and it is not for me to give advice, but I
should say that above all things we ought to try to keep up the spirits
of our men. If we could but start the marching songs we used to sing as
we tramped through Germany, it would set men's feet going in time, would
make them forget the cold and hunger, and they would march along erect,
instead of with their eyes fixed on the ground, and stumbling as if they
could not drag their feet along. We should tell them why we sing, or
they might think it was a mockery. Tell them that the Grenadiers of the
Rhone mean to show that, come what may, they intend to be soldiers to
the last, and to face death, whether from the Russians or from the
winter, heads erect and courage high. Let us show them that, as we have
ever done our duty, so we shall do it to the end, and that it will be a
matter of pride that throughout the division it should be said, when
they hear our songs, 'There go the Grenadiers of the Rhone, brave
fellows and good comrades; see how they bear themselves.'"

"Bravo, bravo, Jules! bravo, Englishman!" the whole of the party
shouted. "So it shall be, we swear it. The Grenadiers of the Rhone shall
set an example."

Suddenly the voices hushed, and Julian was about to look round to see
the cause of their silence, when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and,
turning, he saw Ney standing beside him, with three or four of his
staff. They had come up unobserved, and had stopped a few paces away
just as Julian began to speak.

"Bravo, comrade!" the marshal said; "spoken in the true spirit of a
soldier. Were there a dozen men like you in every regiment I should have
no fear for the future. Did they call you Englishman?"

"Yes, General. I was a prisoner at Verdun, though neither an English
soldier or sailor, and when a call came for volunteers, and I was
promised that I should not be called upon to fight against my own
countrymen, I thought it better to carry a French musket than to rot in
a French prison."

"And you have carried it well," the marshal said. "Had you not done so
you would not have won your stripes among the men of the Grenadiers of
the Rhone, where every man has again and again shown that he is a hero.
Carry out your brave comrade's idea, lads. We all want comforting, and
my own heart will beat quicker to-morrow as I ride along and hear your
marching song, and I shall say to myself, 'God bless the brave
Grenadiers of the Rhone;' I trust that others will follow your example.
What is your name, sergeant?"

"Julian Wyatt, General."

"Put it down in my note-book," Ney said to one of his staff.
"Good-night, comrades, you have done me good. By the way, a hundred
yards to your left I marked a dead horse as I came along; it may help
your suppers." Then, amid a cheer from the soldiers, Ney moved on with
his staff.

It was not many minutes before portions of the horse were cooking over
the fire.

"I feel another man already," one of the younger sergeants laughed, as
they ate their meal. "Jules is right; good spirits are everything."

"Bear that in mind to-morrow, Antoine," another said. "It is easy enough
to be cheerful when one is warm and has got some meat, even though it
be only horse-flesh and mightily tough at that, between your teeth; but
it is harder to be so after sixteen hours of marching and fighting."

"Well, we will try anyhow, Jacques."

Another quarter of an hour and the circle broke up, the non-commissioned
officers going off to the companies to which they belonged.

Wood being plentiful, great fires were kept blazing all night, and round
each was told what Julian had said, the commendation Ney had given the
regiment, and his warm approval of the plan. As soon as the order was
given to march in the morning, and Julian started one of their old
marching songs, it was taken up from end to end of the column, to the
astonishment of the officers and of the men of other regiments within
hearing. The effect upon the men themselves was electrical. The dogged
look of determination with which they had before plodded along was
supplanted by an air of gaiety. They marched along in time to the music
with a step that was almost elastic. Not since they had crossed the
Niemen had the song been heard; occasionally a singer was silent for a
minute or two, and passed his hand across his eyes as he thought of the
many voices of comrades, now hushed for ever, that had then joined in
the chorus. Half-an-hour later Ney, followed by his staff, rode along
past the column. As he reached the head he spoke to the colonel, and the
order was at once given for the regiment to form up in hollow square.
When they had done so the colonel shouted, "Attention!" Ney took off his
plumed hat and said, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all:

"Grenadiers of the Rhone, I salute you. All honour to the regiment that
has set an example to the army of cheerfulness under hardships. You will
be placed in the order of the day with the thanks of your marshal for
the spirit you have shown. Maintain it, my friends; it will warm you
more thoroughly than food or fire, and will carry you triumphantly
through whatever fate may have in store for us."

A deep cheer burst from the regiment as the gallant soldier bowed to his
horse's mane and then rode on with his staff, while the regiment, again
breaking into a song, continued its march. Late in the afternoon they
were again engaged. The long columns ahead were delayed by crossing a
narrow bridge over a river, and for two hours the rear-guard had to
stand firm against constant attacks by the Russians. At one time a heavy
column of Russian infantry moved down upon them, but Ney, riding up to
the grenadiers, said:

"I give you the post of honour, comrades. Drive back that column."

The colonel gave the order to charge, and the regiment rushed forward
with such ardour to the attack, that the Russians were compelled to fall
back with heavy loss, and shortly afterwards news came that the bridge
was clear, and the rear-guard followed the rest of the army. Forty of
the grenadiers had fallen, among them their colonel and two other
officers. The next morning, before the regiment marched, the major as
usual read out to it the order of the day. The marshal expressed his
approbation of the spirit which the Grenadiers of the Rhone had
manifested.

"This fine regiment," he said, "has ever merited eulogium for the manner
in which it has sustained the honour of its flag in every engagement in
which it has taken part. The marshal considers, however, that even
higher praise is due to it for its bearing in the present stress of
circumstances. Good spirits, and the resolution to look at things in a
cheerful light, is the best method of encountering them, and it cheered
the hearts of all near them to hear them singing their marching songs.
The marshal in passing them was struck with the renewal of their martial
appearance, as they marched, head erect, in time to their songs, and he
hopes that their example will be followed by the other regiments of the
corps, and is sure that not only will it be to the advantage of the
discipline and efficiency of the troops, but it will greatly conduce to
their own well-being, and the manner in which they will be able to
support cold, hunger, and fatigue."

The marshal had brought the conduct and fine bearing of the Grenadiers
of the Rhone under the attention of the Emperor. In spite of the fact
that the soldiers of Ney's corps had to endure a larger amount of
hardship than that of the rest of the army, from the necessity of
constant vigilance, and from the long hours they were upon the road,
their health suffered less than that of other troops. In the first
place, they had an absolute faith in their commander; in the next, they
were in the post of honour, and on them the safety of the whole army
depended. Thus the constant skirmishing, and, occasionally, hard
fighting that went on, braced them up, and saved them from the moody
depression that weighed upon the rest of the army. They had, too, some
material advantage from the broken-down waggons and vehicles of all
sorts that fell behind. Every day they obtained a certain amount of
stores, while from the bodies of those who had dropped from exhaustion,
sickness, or cold they obtained a supply of extra clothing.

The morning after the reading of Ney's order of the day commending the
regiment, an order from Napoleon himself was read at the head of the
regiment, Ney taking his place by the side of the newly promoted
colonel. The Emperor said that he had received the report of Marshal Ney
of the conduct and bearing of the Grenadiers of the Rhone, together with
a copy of his order of the day, and that this was fully endorsed by the
Emperor, who felt that the spirit they were showing was even more
creditable to them than the valour that they had so often exhibited in
battle, and that he desired personally to thank them. The marshal had
also brought before his notice the conduct of Sergeant Wyatt of that
regiment, who had, he was informed, been the moving spirit in the
change that he so much commended, and, as a mark of his approbation, he
had requested the marshal himself, as his representative, to affix to
his breast the ribbon of the cross of the Legion of Honour.

The colonel called upon Sergeant Wyatt to come forward. Julian did so,
saluted, and stood to attention, while the marshal dismounted and pinned
to his breast the insignia of the order, while the regiment saluted,
and, as Julian returned to his place in the ranks, burst into a hearty
cheer. As soon as the marshal had ridden off, and the regiment fell out,
the officers gathered round Julian and congratulated him upon the honour
he had received, and, at the same time, thanked him heartily for the
credit that the regiment had gained, through his means, while the
enthusiasm of the soldiers knew no bounds. A word of praise from the
Emperor was the distinction that French soldiers and French regiments
most coveted, and to have been named, not only by their marshal in his
orders, but by the Emperor in a general order to the army, was an honour
that filled every heart with pride.

Julian had been a favourite before, but henceforth his popularity was
unbounded. Many of the other regiments followed the example of the
grenadiers, and, in spite of the ever-increasing cold and the constantly
augmenting hardships, Ney's corps retained their discipline and
efficiency. Their appearance, indeed, was no longer soldierly. Their
garments were in rags. Many wore three or four coats. Their legs were
encased in hay-bands, strips of blanket, or sheep-skins. Julian now took
out for the first time from his knapsack the leggings that he had
manufactured, and, with the strips of blanket that he wound round them,
they differed in appearance in no degree from the leggings of some of
his comrades, except that they enveloped the feet also. On the day
following the reading of Napoleon's order, the grenadiers came upon an
overturned caleche. It had been ransacked by a regiment that had
preceded them. The driver and a woman lay dead beside it, and they would
have passed on without paying any attention to it, had it not been for a
faint cry that met the ears of Julian, as his company passed close by
it. He dropped back a few paces to an officer, and asked leave to fall
out for a minute. Going to the carriage he found lying there among the
cushions a little girl some five or six years old. Her cloak had been
stripped off her, and she was blue with cold. Julian hesitated.

"I will try anyhow," he muttered to himself. He first ripped open one of
the cushions, pulled out the woollen stuffing, and wrapped it round the
child's arms and legs, binding it there with strips of the velvet
covering the cushions. Then he took off his cloak, and raised her on to
his back, having first cut off one of the reins. With this he strapped
her securely in that position, put on his warm cloak again, and then,
hurrying forward, soon overtook the rear of his regiment.

"Bravo, Jules!" many of his comrades said, as he passed along the
column; while others asked, "Why do you encumber yourself with that
child? It is enough now for every man to look to himself, and you cannot
carry her far."

"I will do what I can," he replied. "She is not so heavy as my knapsack
when it is full, and it is empty now; I am only keeping it because it is
useful as a pillow. I can't say how far I can carry her, but as long as
I can go she shall. We have taken lives enough, heaven knows. It is as
well to save one if one gets the opportunity."