WARLIKE ADVENTURES OF A PEACEFUL MAN.
FROM THE GERMAN.
BY MISS MARY E. LEE.
CHAPTER TENTH.
SECOND SKIRMISH, WITH ITS TERMINATION.
WHAT gave me most pleasure in my late military achievement, was the fact that I had not shed a drop of a fellow-creature’s blood. Certainly this was not owing to any individual merit of mine, and yet I suspect that the exploits of our greatest generals are quite as doubtful when viewed in the light of truth. Often, in some great onset, the lucky thought of a lieutenant, the bon-mot of a corporal, or the accidental saying of a private, has more effect in determining the chance of a battle than is usually suspected. Would that we could read accounts of the conflicts of Marathon, Pharsalia, Marengo and Jena, as written by an omniscient being, to prove the truth of my assertion. At daybreak we were ready for decampment. The weather proved exceedingly cold, but our commander significantly observed that we would probably have a hot day of it, since, according to the statements of the peasants, troops of the enemy hovered in every direction, and it was therefore determined, in a council of war, that we should defile through the woods by by-paths.
Scarcely had we left the village, when, lo! just before us, and issuing from the very direction we were about to take, marched a detachment of the French troops. Our general was noways disconcerted, but with admirable coolness made his arrangements for the encounter, and set his little army in battle array—the right wing leaning towards a ditch, under the hussar, the left near an old walnut tree, with myself at its head.
“And now, comrades,” said he, “remember this day that you are Prussians; and since we boast no banner, follow the white plume of your commander, and be assured that it shall ever be seen in the thickest of the combat.”
This speech reminded me of Henry the Fourth, who made a similar one under less critical circumstances.
“If our small host cannot conquer,” continued he, “let us at least determine that we will not be vanquished. The worst that can befall us is, to sup to-night with Ziethen, Schwerin, Winterfield and Frederic the Great, instead of at some wretched village.”
Leonidas spoke not with greater emphasis when he addressed his devoted Spartans at the dread pass of Thermopylæ, than did our valorous chief; and yet our troops appeared to enjoy the prospect of an earthly supper of pork and turnips, however common it might be, more than the view of a festal board, though spread in the fields of Elysium; and for myself, a crust of bread from Frederica’s hand had been sweeter than ambrosia itself, though quaffed in the society of all the heroes of antiquity.
It was a fearful spectacle, to watch the long column of the enemy as it slowly advanced over the stubble-fields; and as I stood at my post near the walnut tree, it seemed as though every limb had become suddenly palsied, and judging from the countenance of the hussar who had charge of the left wing, where his four trumpeters were blowing their loudest blasts, I suspect that he was in a similar condition with myself.
A moment before the conflict commenced, Charles the Great dashed towards me, and hurriedly exclaimed, “Adjutant-general, I feel that on this day your valour will show itself in its full extent; but, let me entreat of you, do not yield to the impetuosity of your feelings. Be prudent amid your enthusiasm; and should I fall in the conflict, take immediate command of the army, and drawing back to the village we have just left, maintain your ground there even to the last man!” Then setting spurs to his horse, he left me, unfortunate man that I was, to the misgivings of my agitated mind.
In the meanwhile, Queen Bess had attempted to make a precipitate movement to the rear of the ditch, but probably interfering with some of the hussar’s evolutions, she was forced with her brandy casks directly in view of the enemy’s fire, and thus, by this accidental movement, as I shall presently explain, an unfortunate issue was given to the combat ere it had really commenced.
CHAPTER ELEVENTH.
CONTINUATION.
Just at that moment, when our thirsty troops were watching the safe locomotion of the wagons which contained their spirituous treasure, the enemy fired their first cannon upon us. Sad to tell, the ball found its way direct into the largest brandy cask, and as the nectar gushed out in a crystalline
