Chapter VIII (3)

When the Colonel saw one of his men fall, he ran to the fire, and noticing how ill I was, he ordered me to go back to the end of the bridge and wait for men who had not come up, and bring them to the regiment. The greatest disorder prevailed at this place. All the men who had not taken advantage of the night to cross had thrown themselves in a mass on to the banks of the river as soon as they heard the artillery, in order to cross by the bridges.

A corporal of our company named Gros-Jean, who came from Paris, asked me with tears in his eyes if I had seen his brother. I said no. Then he told me that he had been with him ever since the Battle of Krasnoe, as he was ill with fever; but just now, by some dreadful fatality, they had been separated. Thinking he had gone on in front, he had been inquiring of his comrades on all sides, and not finding him, he was going back over the bridge, for if he did not find him he would die. Wishing to dissuade him from such a fatal resolution, I begged him to stay with me at the head of the bridge, where we should very likely see his brother as he passed. But the poor fellow stripped off his arms and knapsack, saying that, as I had lost my own, he would make me a present of them if he did not return, and that there were plenty of muskets over at the other side. He then made as if he would go, but I stopped him. I pointed out to him the number of dead and dying already on the bridge, these last preventing others passing over by catching hold of their legs, and all rolling together in the Berezina. They appeared for a moment amongst bits of ice, only to disappear altogether and make way for others. Gros-Jean did not even hear me. Fixing his eyes on this scene of horror, he thought he perceived his brother on the bridge, struggling to clear a pathway for himself through the crowd. So, listening only to the voice of despair, he climbed over the dead bodies of men and horses which blocked up the way from the bridge,[53] and rushed on. Those he first met tried to thrust him back, but he was strong, and did not give way. He succeeded in reaching the unfortunate man whom he had taken for his brother; but, alas! it was not he. I followed all his movements with my eyes. Seeing his mistake, he redoubled his efforts to reach the further end; but he was knocked over on to his back, on the edge of the bridge, and nearly thrown into the water. They walked over his body, his head, but nothing vanquished him. He collected all his strength for a new effort to rise, and seized hold of a Cuirassier's leg, who, in his turn, got hold of another man's arm. The Cuirassier, however, was hindered by a cloak over his shoulder; he staggered, fell, and rolled into the Berezina, dragging after him Gros-Jean and the man whose arm he held. They sank then, adding to the number of men underneath the bridge and on each side of it.

The Cuirassier and his companion disappeared under the ice; but Gros-Jean, more fortunate, had seized one of the supports of the bridge, against which he found a horse. Climbing on to the horse by his knees, he begged for help, for a long time speaking to deaf ears. Finally some engineers threw him a rope, which he was clever enough to catch and tie round his body; and thus from one support to another, over dead bodies and lumps of ice, he was drawn over to the further side. I did not see him again; but I heard the next day that he had found his brother, a little distance off, but in a dying condition. Thus perished these two poor brothers, and also a third in the 2nd Lancers. When I got back to Paris I saw their parents, who begged me for news of their children. I left them one ray of hope by saying that their sons had been taken prisoners, but I felt certain they died.

While these sad events were taking place, the Grenadiers of the Guard, accompanied by an officer, went round the bivouacs, asking for dry wood to warm the Emperor. Everyone willingly gave the best they had. Even dying men raised their heads to say, 'Take what you can for the Emperor.' By this time it might be ten o'clock, and the second bridge, built for the cavalry and artillery, had just broken in under the weight of the latter; a number of men sank with it, and most of them perished. The disorder and confusion were thus doubly increased, for, as everyone rushed to the other bridge, it became an absolute impossibility to get across. Men, horses, carts, canteen men, with their wives and children, were all mingled in frightful disorder, crushed against each other; and in spite of the shouts of Marshal Lefebvre, who stood at the end of the bridge to keep all the order possible, he could not remain there. He was swept on with the others and forced to cross, to avoid being suffocated or crushed to death. I had managed to get together five men of our regiment, three of whom had lost their firearms in the confusion, and I had ordered them to make a fire. I kept my eyes fixed all the time on the bridge, and saw a man in a white cloak; he was pushed by those behind him, and fell over the body of a horse stretched on the ground. With extreme difficulty he got up, staggered a few steps, fell again, rose a second time, only to fall again by our fire. He remained thus for a little while, and, thinking that he was dead, we were about to lay him on one side and remove his cloak, when he raised his head and looked at me. It was the gunsmith of our regiment. He said sadly:

'Ah, sergeant, what misfortunes I have had! I have lost everything--horses, carts--all I had! I have only one mule left which I brought from Spain, and I have just been forced to leave him. I was carried across the bridge, but I nearly died.'

I told him that he would be very fortunate, and ought to thank Heaven, if he got back to France alive.

So many men now crowded round our fire that we were obliged to leave it and make another some little way back. The confusion and disorder went on increasing, and reached their full height when Marshal Victor was attacked by the Russians, and shells and bullets showered thickly upon us. To complete our misery, snow began to fall and a cold wind blew. This dreadful state of things lasted all day and through the next night, and all this time the Berezina became gradually filled with ice, dead bodies of men and horses, while the bridge got blocked up with carts full of wounded men, some of which rolled over the edge into the water. Between eight and nine o'clock that evening Marshal Victor began his retreat. He and his men had to cross the bridge over a perfect mountain of corpses. On the night of the 28th-29th it was possible for all the unfortunate wretches on the opposite bank to get across, but, paralyzed by the cold, they stayed behind to warm themselves by the warmth of the burning waggons, which had been set on fire on purpose to make the men go across.

I remained in the rear with seventeen men and a sergeant named Rossiere, led by one of the men, as he had become almost blind, and was shivering with fever.[54] I was sorry for him, and offered to lend him my bearskin to cover him, but so much snow had fallen during the night that it had saturated the cloak. The snow then melted with the heat of the fire and dried up again. When I took hold of the skin in the morning, it was as hard as iron and useless for wearing, and I had to leave it behind. Wishing, however, to make it useful to the last, I laid it over a dying man. We had passed a wretched night. Many of the men in the Imperial Guard had died. At about seven o'clock on the morning of the 29th I went towards the bridge, hoping to find some more of our men. The unfortunate men who had not taken advantage of the night to get away had at the first appearance of dawn rushed on to the bridge, but now it was too late. Preparations were already made to burn it down. Numbers jumped into the water, hoping to swim through the floating bits of ice, but not one reached the shore. I saw them all there in water up to their shoulders, and, overcome by the terrible cold, they all miserably perished. On the bridge was a canteen man carrying a child on his head. His wife was in front of him, crying bitterly. I could not stay any longer, it was more than I could bear. Just as I turned away, a cart containing a wounded officer fell from the bridge, with the horse also.[55] They next set fire to the bridge, and I have been told that scenes impossible to describe for horror then took place. The details I had witnessed were merely slight sketches of the horrible picture that followed.

I was now told that the regiment was moving. I made the men take up their arms, and counted them to the number of twenty-three, without the gunsmith. As the regiment moved off, each man joined his company.

We were at last on the march; it might be, perhaps, nine o'clock. We crossed a wooded piece of ground interspersed by marshes, which we traversed by means of bridges made of pine-wood, fortunately not burned by the Russians. We waited now and then for those in the rear to come up with us. The sun was shining, and I sat down on Gros-Jean's knapsack and went off to sleep; but an officer, M. Favin, catching sight of me, pulled me by the ears and the hair, others kicked me from behind, all without waking me. Several of them got hold of me and forced me to rise, and well for me that they did, or I should have slept the sleep of death. I felt very cross, however, at being roused.

Many who we thought had perished came on from the Berezina. They embraced and congratulated each other as if it were the Rhine they had crossed, still 400 leagues off. They felt so happy that they were sorry for those left behind. They advised me to walk a little in front, so that I should not fall asleep again. This advice I took.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 35: The corps commanded by General Dombrouski, a Pole, had not been as far as Moscow. It was marching just now to Borisow to cut off the Russians from the bridge over the Berezina.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 36: _Cognia_ in Polish, and in Russian also, means _horse_.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 37: Picart was one of the best shots in the Guard. In camp at target practice he always carried off the prizes.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 38: I still have the little cup; it is at home, under a glass case, with a little silver cross found in the crypt of the Church of St. Michael, and under the Emperors' tombs.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 39: The Emperor of Austria.]

[Footnote 40: Picart knew what he was about in speaking of Austrian treason, as I learnt since that an alliance had been made against us.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 41: The Battle of Eylau began on February 7th, 1807, at daybreak; we had slept the night before on a plain behind the town, a quarter of a league away. This plain was covered with snow and with dead bodies, the rear-guard having been engaged there just before our arrival. It was scarcely daybreak when the Emperor ordered us to move forward. This we had great difficulty in doing, as we walked through ploughed fields, and snow up to our knees. He placed the Guard near the town--a part of it near the cemetery, and a part on a lake fifty yards off. Balls and shells falling on the lake cracked the ice, and threatened to submerge those who stood on it. All day we stood in this position, our feet in the snow, and half crushed by the shells and grape-shot. The Russians were four times as strong as we were, and they also had the advantage of the wind, which blew dead against us, driving the snow, and the smoke from our powder and theirs, into our faces. Up till seven o'clock we remained in this position. At three in the afternoon our regiment was sent to resume the position of the morning, which the Russians wanted to take. All night, as during the battle, the snow never ceased to fall. That day my right foot was frozen, and was only cured at Finkeistein, before the battles of Essling and Friedland.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 42: _Nima_ in Polish and Lithuanian means 'no,' or 'there is none.'--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 43: _Mere aux bouts_ was an old woman who came at six o'clock every morning to the barracks at Courbevoie, and sold us, for ten centimes, a piece of pudding six inches long. We feasted on this every day before our drill, and drank ten centimes' worth of Suresnes wine, to help us to wait for the soup at ten o'clock. What Velite or old Grenadier of the Guard has not known _Mere aux bouts_?--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 44: Place where the old Grenadiers of the Guard met their mistresses and danced.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 45: This song had been composed on leaving the camp at Boulogne in 1805, to go to Austria for the Battle of Austerlitz.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 46: In Poland, Lithuania, and a part of Russia, large trees are chosen; and about ten feet from the ground a hole of about a foot deep and wide is made. Here the bees deposit their honey, and often it is stolen by the bears, who are very numerous in these forests, and very greedy. Thus the hives frequently become traps to take them.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 47: The _pontonniers_ and the engineers saved us, and to them we owed the construction of the bridges over the Berezina.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 48: They marched with their heads bent, their eyes fixed on the ground, hardly seeing anything; the frost and the bivouac fires had nearly ruined their sight.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 49: Grangier and Leboude.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 50: General Eble.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 51: This second bridge broke soon afterwards, when the artillery began to cross. A great many perished.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 52: The girl, and also her mother, wore Astrakan caps on their heads.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 53: At the outlet of the bridge was a marsh, a slimy, muddy place, where many of the horses sank, and could not get out again. Many of the men, also, being dragged by the weight of the others to the outlet, sank down exhausted when left to themselves in the marsh, and were trampled upon by others coming on behind.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 54: I learned afterwards that the sergeant had the luck to return to France; as he had plenty of money, he got a Jew to take him as far as Koenigsberg, but when he arrived in France he went mad and blew out his brains.--_Author's Note._]

[Footnote 55: Thus perished M. Legrand, the brother of Dr. Legrand, of Valenciennes. He had been wounded at Krasnoe, and had just got as far as the Berezina. Just after the scene I have described, and while the Russians were firing at the bridge, I was told that he was badly wounded before being thrown into the water.--_Author's Note._]