<h4>CHAPTER XLVII.</h4>
<br/>
<p>Early next morning, a firing was heard in the direction of Torcy; and
springing on my horse, I galloped off for the scene of action, as fast
as possible. Before I came up, however, the firing had ceased; and I
found my troop under arms in the hamlet where I had left them, though
the village itself, not above five hundred yards in front, was in the
hands of the enemy. A regiment of infantry, which Monsieur de Bouillon
had thrown forward into the village of Torcy itself for the purpose of
covering his bridge of boats, had been attacked, it seemed, by the
advance-guard of the enemy, and, after a sharp struggle, had been
driven back upon the hamlet behind, from which Garcias had made a very
brilliant charge upon the pursuing parties of the enemy, repulsed them
with some loss, and compelled them to content themselves with the
village they had taken.</p>
<p>As may be imagined, I was mortified at not having been present; but I
expressed to my troop my high satisfaction at what had been done; and
told them, in a brief harangue I made them on the occasion, that his
highness the Count de Soissons reckoned greatly upon their valour for
success; and that, therefore, he proposed to intrust to them, under my
command, some of the most important manœuvres which had already
been determined upon. Praise was perhaps the more palatable to them,
as their bravery had been attended with no loss, and as they had
driven back the enemy at the expense of a few slight wounds. Loud
cheers, therefore, attended me as I rode with Garcias along their
ranks; and these were repeated still more loudly when the commanding
officer of the infantry rode up to Garcias, and thanked him for the
very successful diversion which my troop had operated in his favour.</p>
<p>Finding that the enemy did not make any disposition for advancing
farther, which would indeed have brought them almost under the guns of
Sedan, I rode into the town to inform the Count of what had occurred;
and after a brief interview with him, I delivered the letter for my
father into the hands of little Achilles; and taking with me all my
papers, I bade adieu to my little attendant with feelings that perhaps
do not often exist between master and servant, and returned to my
troop for the night.</p>
<p>Before joining them, however, according to the commands of the Count,
I reconnoitred the position I was to take up the next morning, and
passed by the pillar from which the signal was to be given. It had
formed part of an old Roman arch, and probably had recorded some
victory of those wonderful barbarians, the Romans, over their still
more barbarous enemies, the Gauls; but as I looked at the broken
fragments of the structure they had probably raised, in the fond hope
of immortalizing some long-forgotten deed, the thrilling feeling of
man's mortality--of the mortality of all his works--the mortality of
his very fame, came coldly over my heart; and I turned away, repeating
to myself some of the lines which my dead friend Father Francis of
Allurdi had once cited--</p>
<p>"Glory, alas! what art thou but a name?"</p>
<p>and returned to the post assigned me, thinking of <i>what might be in
another world</i>.</p>
<p>Towards six o'clock, a heavy rain began to fall; but that did not
prevent me from having several messengers from the Count de
Soissons--one bidding me make good the hamlet which I occupied, at all
risks; another informing me that Lamboy, with the Germans and the
cannon, had arrived, and would pass the next morning early; and a
third giving me orders to quit the hamlet as silently as possible,
before daybreak the next day, and to take up the position assigned to
me. This last command made me order my men to rest as soon as
possible; and I also threw myself down upon some straw, completely
armed except my casque; and after giving about half an hour to some
vague wandering thoughts regarding the morrow, I felt that thought was
of no use, and addressed myself to sleep. The fear, however, of not
waking in time, abridged my slumber to two or three hours; and rising,
I went out of the hovel in which I had been lying, to ascertain by the
appearance of the sky what o'clock it was.</p>
<p>All was dark and silent, though I could hear at intervals the neighing
of the horses in the enemy's army, and could see the long line of dim
watch-fires, half extinguished by the rain, which marked where the
veteran Lamboy had taken up his ground on the opposite hill.</p>
<p>Shortly after the clocks of Sedan struck midnight, and I resolved to
give my men yet an hour's sleep, that they might be as fresh as
possible the next day.</p>
<p>It was an hour of the deepest and most awful thought for me. Every one
must feel, the day before he risks his life in mortal combat,
sensations that assail him at no other time--the eager anxiety to know
the issue--the doubt, if not the fear, of the event--the thought of
earth, and all that earth has dear--the calculations of eternity--all
that is awful in our vague and misty state of being then presses on
the mind: and he is the brave man that looks upon it without
shrinking. But my feelings were deeper and more exciting than those of
most men, because my all was staked upon that battle. If it should be
won, the Count de Soissons would be master of the councils of France:
the only remaining obstacle between Helen and myself might easily be
removed. Rank, wealth, power, affection, were all within my grasp; and
never did my heart feel what love is, so much as it did that night.
But if the battle were lost, I had no longer anything to live for;--
home and country, and station, and love, and hope, were all gone; and
I resolved that life also should be cast upon the die.</p>
<p>It seemed but a minute since twelve o'clock had struck, when one
followed it by the clocks of Sedan--so busy had been the ideas that
hurried through my brain. But action now became my duty; and waking
Garcias, we proceeded to take the necessary measures for decamping in
silence.</p>
<p>No men in the broad universe could have been found better calculated
for every motion which required secrecy than my three hundred: they
provided themselves with forage and provisions for the next morning,
mounted their horses, and rode out of the hamlet, without even
disturbing the regiment of infantry that lay beside them; and the only
person, I believe, whom we woke out of his slumber, was a weary
sentinel, who, without the excuse of Mercury's wand, had followed the
example of Argus, and fallen asleep upon his watch. Woke suddenly by
our passing, he seemed to think the best thing he could do was to fire
his piece; and accordingly snapped it at my head; but luckily, the
priming had fallen out while he slept, and it missed fire. I seldom
remember a more unpleasant ride than that from Torcy to the heights of
the Marfée. The rain had come on more heavily than ever; the whole way
was a long, broken ascent, traversed by ravines, and often interrupted
by copses; and the ground was so slippery, that our horses could
scarcely keep their feet. We passed it, however, after much
difficulty; and there was some consolation in knowing that the enemy's
army would have to vanquish the same obstacles before the battle, if
they dared to attack us.</p>
<p>Day began to break heavily as we reached the wood, without any sign of
the rain abating; but the smaller detached part of the forest, behind
which we were posted, formed almost entirely of old beeches, gave us
better shelter than we could have hoped.</p>
<p>On our arrival, I found that the Count, according to his word, had
already detached a company of musketeers to take possession of the
copse wood between us and his main position; and had also sent forward
several tumbrils with provisions and ammunition in plenty. Together
with these was a letter for me, containing some farther orders, and a
very ample commission under his hand, by which I found that the
infantry beside me were also placed under my command.</p>
<p>As we were all new troops, there was no jealousy respecting seniority
of service; and I found the officer of the infantry well disposed to
act with me, especially as all I required was for his own security. It
appeared to me that the copse in which he was placed was of much more
importance than had been attached to it, as, in case of the enemy
possessing himself thereof, which would have been easily done by
advancing through a hollow way to our left, the left flank of the
Prince's force was completely exposed.</p>
<p>To render it, then, as defensible as possible, I proposed to the other
officer to employ our spare time in throwing up a strong breastwork of
earth and boughs before it; and all our men setting to work with great
eagerness, before seven o'clock we had completed a line, which placed
it in comparative security.</p>
<p>Towards eight the rain ceased; and for the rest of the day merely came
down in occasional showers. It had been hitherto so thick that the
line of the Meuse, and even the town of Sedan, had been scarcely
distinguishable; but now it drew up like a curtain, and I could see
the troops of Lamboy descending toward the bridge of boats, and
gradually passing the river, in as fine unbroken order as if on a
review.</p>
<p>Shortly after, the bridge of Sedan began to be occupied; and pennons,
and plumes, and standards, and flashing arms, and all the pageantry of
war, announced that the princes were on their march to form their
junction with the imperial army. My eye then turned anxiously towards
Torcy; but all was still in the camp of the enemy; and I saw the two
allied armies approach near and more near, and then unite, unopposed
and seemingly almost unnoticed.</p>
<p>Winding in and out of the ravines and over the hills, the army of the
princes now began to mount towards the heights on which I was
stationed; and it was near nine o'clock before the report of a cannon
announced that the Maréchal de Chatillon intended to take any notice
of their movements.</p>
<p>No time, however, was now to be lost; and making my men refresh both
themselves and their horses, I waited impatiently for the arrival of
the army. All sombre thoughts, if I had entertained any such before,
now vanished like mists before the sun. The sight of the moving
hosts--the recollection of all that was that day to be won--the
thoughtless aspiration which all young minds have for glory--the love
of daring natural to my character; all stimulated me on the onward
path; and slow, slow did I think the approach of the forces, as
winding their way over the wet and slippy ground, they advanced
towards the position which they proposed to take up.</p>
<p>For some time, as they came nearer, I lost sight of them in the hollow
way; but a little after ten the advance-guard began to appear upon the
heights, and took their ground with the left resting upon the copse.
Regiment after regiment now presented itself, and I could see them,
one following another across the underwood, defile to the places
assigned to them, but lost them one by one in a few minutes after,
behind the wood of the Marfée.</p>
<p>The sounds of the trumpets, however, the loud commands of the
officers, the crashing and creaking of the ammunition carts, all
assured me of their proximity; and in a few minutes after, one of the
Prince's equerries rode up to ascertain that I had arrived, and to
tell me that no alterations had been made in the dispositions of the
day before. I pointed out to him the work we had constructed; and in a
short time afterwards he returned, by the Prince's express command to
thank me, and inform me of his high approbation of what had been done.</p>
<p>While we were still speaking, the enemy began to appear on the
opposite slope, and in a moment afterwards a discharge of artillery
from beneath the hill gave notice that the battle was commenced upon
our right, where the infantry of Lamboy were still making their way up
to the heights. The sound of the cannon, so much nearer to me than I
expected, I will own, made me start; but springing at once into the
saddle, lest any one should see fear in what in truth was but
surprise, I rode round alone to a spot where, through the trees, I
could see what was passing in the hollow.</p>
<p>The smoke of the cannon greatly impeded my sight, but I could perceive
a body of the enemy's pikemen in the act of charging the German
infantry, who were borne back before my eyes near two hundred yards,
but still maintained their order. Every step that they yielded, my
heart beat to be there, and lead them back to the charge; but then
again, I thought that if I might be permitted to charge the flank of
the pikemen with my men-at-arms, I could drive them all to the devil.</p>
<p>At that moment my eye fell upon a group of officers gathered upon a
little knoll, in the front of whom was evidently the Count de
Soissons, dressed in a suit of steel armour I had seen in his
apartments, and accompanied by an elderly man in German uniform, whom
I concluded to be Lamboy. The Count was pointing with his leading
staff to the retreating infantry of his left wing, while the other
seemed to look upon the whole with the utmost composure. In a moment
after, an equerry set off from the Count's party, and a company of our
musketeers instantly wheeled upon the flank of the pikemen, and drove
them back under a tremendous fire, while the Germans again advanced
and took up their position as before.</p>
<p>The smoke of the musketry now interrupted my view in that direction;
and turning round, I found that I had insensibly advanced so far as to
be out of sight of the pillar from whence the signal was to be
displayed. Riding back as fast as I could, I rejoined my troop; but no
signal had yet been made; and as I looked up towards the hill, where I
expected every moment to behold it displayed, all was clear, calm, and
quiet; offering a strange contrast to the eager and deathful struggle
upon which I had just been gazing.</p>
<p>"We shall not be long now, Garcias," said I, riding up. "Is all
ready?"</p>
<p>He assured me that it was, and passing along from man to man, I spoke
a few words to each, telling them that the infantry had already
repulsed the enemy, and that we might soon expect to be called upon;
saying everything I could think of to animate them to exertion, and
beseeching them not to let the love of plunder induce them to separate
before the battle was completely gained.</p>
<p>They all made me the most solemn promises in the world not to lose
their discipline, to which of course I attached due credence;
believing it to be just as probable for a tiger to abandon bloodshed,
as for them to resist plunder even for a moment. A vigorous and
effective charge, however, I knew to be the great object desired; and
I doubted not from their whole tone and bearing that they would effect
it as well as I could desire.</p>
<p>In the meanwhile, the din increased. We could every now and then hear
the dull, measured sound of the charging of horse, mingled with the
continued firing of the musketry, and at intervals a discharge of
cannon; while the smoke, rolling over the wood, reached even the spot
where we stood, and made me fearful lest I should lose sight of the
signal-pillar.</p>
<p>Every minute I thought the sign must be made, and no language can
express the impatience I began to feel as the minutes flew by and it
did not appear. The firing appeared to me to grow less; and I felt
angry that the battle should be lost or won, without my presence. No
longer able to bear it, I rode on about twenty yards to the corner of
the wood. The whole scene was covered with white wreaths of smoke, but
the greater part of the attacking army was now displayed upon the same
plain with ourselves; and I could see that the battle was far from
concluded, though the attack of the enemy upon our position was
languishing, and his troops considerably broken and disordered. Small
parties of horsemen, separated from their regiments, were scattered
confusedly over the plain. Groups of men on foot, carrying the more
distinguished wounded to the rear, appeared here and there through the
smoke. Aides-de-camp riding from spot to spot, and officers
endeavouring by bustle and activity to re-animate the flagging
energies of their soldiers, were seen hurrying about in all parts of
the enemy's line; and I looked upon the whole scene as I have often
done upon a disturbed ant-hill, where I have seen confusion and hurry
in every member of the insect populace, without being able to divine
their operations or understand their movements.</p>
<p>Column after column, as I stood and watched, was brought up against
our battalions, but each after a discharge of musketry turned off as
from a stone wall. Not three hundred yards from me was a dense mass of
cavalry, and I could see its officers endeavouring to animate their
men to the charge. At that moment I looked back. The red flag was
displayed from the pillar; and spurring back to the head of my troop,
I led them out from the wood. Their impatience had been nearly equal
to my own; and, as the whole field of battle opened before them with
all the thrilling and exciting objects it presented, they gave a loud
and cheering hurrah, which seemed to be answered by a flourish of
trumpets, at the very same moment, from the cavalry of the Duke of
Bouillon that just appeared above the hill, about a quarter of a mile
from us. The flourish and the shout acted as a signal of concert. A
moment sufficed to put my troop in order; and pointing onward to the
enemy with my sword, while my heart beat so as almost to deprive me of
breath, I gave the word "Charge!" Onward we galloped like lightning,
treading, I believe, on many of the dead and dying in our passage: the
ground seemed to vanish under our horses' feet, the open space was
passed in an instant. Nearer, and nearer, and nearer, as we came, each
individual adversary grew into distinctness on our eyes. We passed the
flat like a cloud-shadow, sweeping the plain. We reached the brow of
the descent, and hurled down the side of the slope upon the flank of
the enemy; like an avalanche upon a forest of pines, we bore them
headlong before us. Charged at the same moment by the Duke of Bouillon
in front, and surprised by our headlong onset from so unexpected a
quarter, the enemy's cavalry were borne back upon their infantry,
their arms and fled; many of the cavalry turned their reins and
galloped from the field; and though some fought still hand to hand, it
was with but the courage of despair; for the army of Chatillon was by
that one charge thrown into complete rout.</p>
<p>One officer in full armour seemed to single me out; and, not willing
to disappoint him, I turned my horse towards him. Parrying a blow he
was making at my neck, just above the gorget, I returned it with the
full sweep of my long heavy sword. It cut sheer through the lacings of
his casque, which another blow dashed from his head; when the face of
a young man presented itself, whom I immediately remembered as the
somewhat hasty youth I had seen with Monsieur de Chatillon in Paris.</p>
<p>"Will you quarter?" said I.</p>
<p>"Never!" replied he, aiming another blow at my head; but at that
moment, Combalet de Carignan, who was behind me, fired a pistol at
him, the ball of which passed right through his head. He sprang up in
the saddle, his sword fell from his hand, and his horse, freed from
the rein, galloped away wildly over the field. I had no time to see
farther what became of him; though, when I lost sight of him in the
confusion, the horse was still rushing on, and the rider--though dead,
I feel sure--still in the saddle; but by this time, although all had
passed like lightning, my troopers were far before me; and,
notwithstanding the endeavours of Garcias to keep them together, were
separating and pursuing the fliers one by one. I hurried forward to
unite my efforts to those of the brave Spaniard; but just as I came
up, a small peloton of the enemy's infantry, that had kept together
near some valuable baggage, gave us one parting volley before they
fled, and to my deep regret I beheld Garcias fall headlong from his
horse.</p>
<p>Springing to the ground, I raised his head on my knees, and saw that
the bullet had gone through his corslet just above the lower rim.
"Jesu Maria!" cried he, opening his eyes, from which the light of life
was fleeting fast--"Jesu Maria!--"</p>
<p>"I am afraid you are badly hurt, Garcias," cried I, more painfully
affected by his situation than I could have imagined.</p>
<p>"I am dying, señor!" muttered he in Spanish--"I am dying! Thank
you for your care--your kindness. It is vain--I am dying! Oh,
señor--François Derville! that unhappy man--do you remember--how I
slew him at the mill! I wish I had not done it--I can see him now! Oh,
I wish I had not done it--Sancta Maria! ora pro----"</p>
<p>The heavy cloud of death fell dully down upon the clear bright eye.
Fire, and soul, and meaning, passed away, and Garcias was nothing.</p>
<p>I bade my servants, who were still with me, carry him to the rear; and
springing on my horse again, galloped forward, to see if I could
restore some order to my troop.</p>
<p>By this time, however, all was confusion. The field was scattered with
small parties of horsemen riding here and there, and cutting down or
making prisoners the few of the enemy that remained. Nothing was to be
seen but heaps of dead and dying, masterless horses flying over the
plain, cannon and waggons overturned, long files of prisoners, and
groups of stragglers plundering the fallen; while part of the village
of Chaumont appeared burning on our right, and towards the left was
distinguished a regiment of the enemy, who had still maintained their
order, and were retreating over the opposite hill, fast but firmly.
The rear-rank was seen to face about at every twenty or thirty yards,
and by a heavy regular fire drive back a strong body of cavalry that
hung upon their retreat. Gathering together about twenty of my men, I
rode as fast as I could to the spot, and arrived just at the moment
the enemy faced and gave us a volley. If I may use the expression, it
made our cavalry reel, and more than one empty saddle presented
itself; but what engaged my attention was, to behold in the officer
commanding this last regiment of the enemy, the Chevalier de
Montenero.</p>
<p>As I was gazing at him, to assure myself that my eyes did not deceive
me, the Duke of Bouillon rode up, and demanded where were the greater
part of my men, in a tone that did not particularly please me. "They
are where the greater part of your own are, my lord," replied I; "some
dead, some plundering, some following the enemy."</p>
<p>"If that be the case," rejoined he, sharply, "you had better go and
join them yourself; for Monsieur de l'Orme and half a dozen men are no
service to <i>me</i>."</p>
<p>"You speak rudely, Monsieur de Bouillon," replied I; "and methinks on
a day of such victory as this, you might conduct yourself differently
to one who has shared in the dangers of the struggle, whether he
shares in its advantages or not." The duke's visor was up, and he
coloured highly; but without waiting for reply, I turned my rein, and
rode away.</p>
<p>My men, who had only followed me in the hope of more fighting, seeing
me leave the spot where it was going on, turned to the trade they
liked next in degree, and separated to plunder as before. Without
caring much how they employed themselves for the moment, I rode back
towards the spot where I had before seen the Count de Soissons, and
pushing my horse up the hill, I saw him still posted on a little
eminence, with a group of his officers and attendants at the distance
of about a dozen yards behind him--he seeming to enjoy the sight of
the field he had won, and the others apparently discussing with some
animation the events that had lately passed.</p>
<p>Silence had now comparatively resumed her reign; for though a
straggling fire might be heard from time to time, mingled with distant
shouts and cries, the roar of the battle itself was over. The ground
between me and the prince also--a space of about a hundred and fifty
yards--was clear and unoccupied; but being upland, it of course
delayed my horse's progress. Happy, happy, had I been able to have
passed it sooner! Just as I was mounting the rise, a horseman dashed
across the top like lightning--reined in his horse a moment before the
Count--I heard the report of fire-arms. The horseman galloped on, and
I saw the prince falling from his horse.</p>
<p>The noise called the attention of those that were near; and when I
arrived they had gathered round the Count, and were untying his
casque; but all that presented itself was the cold blank face of the
dead. Above the right eyebrow was the wound of a pistol-ball, which
must have gone directly into the brain; and the brow and forehead were
scorched and blackened with the fire and smoke of the pistol--so near
must have been his murderer.</p>
<p>Thus died Louis Count de Soissons, in the moment of triumph and
victory--triumph turned to mourning, victory rendered fruitless by his
death!<SPAN name="div4Ref_09" href="#div4_09"><sup>[9]</sup></SPAN></p>
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