Marseillaise ( Chant de guerre pour l'armée du Rhin) Allons enfants de la patrie! Entendez-vous dans les campagnes Refrain: Aux armes, citoyens, formez vos bataillons, Que veut cet horde d'esclaves, Francais! Pour nous, ah quel outrage! Refrain Amour sacré de la patrie, Sous nos drapeaux que la Victoire Refrain Refrain |
The Marseillaise (The War Song for the Army of the Rhine) Forward children of the homeland! Do you hear the roar of ferocious soldiers Refrain: To arms, citizens, form your battalions, What do they want, this horde of slaves, French people! For us, oh what an insult! Refrain Sacred love of the homeland, Beneath our banners to which Victory Refrain Refrain |
Monsieur le Baron de Breteuil, knowing the full extent of your zeal and fidelity and wishing to give you renewed proof of my confidence, I have chosen to confide the interests of my crown to you. Since circumstances do not allow me to give you my instructions on this or that matter or to have a continuous correspondence with you, I am sending you this letter as a symbol of plenipotential powers and authorization vis-à-vis the various powers with whom you may have to deal on my behalf. You know my intentions and I leave it to your discretion to make such use of these powers as you deem necessary for the good of my service. I approve of everything that you do to achieve my aims, which are the restoration of my legitimate authority and the happiness of my People. Upon which, Monsieur le Baron, I pray God that He keep you in His holy protection.
The close of the eighteenth century, a period marked by the grandest operations and the most gigantic projects, presented to the world a new and organized empire, where it was not only supposed to be impossible to exist, but, where even its existence was denied, although it was known by those connected with that quarter of the globe to have taken place, and under the most flourishing auspices. The beneficent and able black, Toussaint L'Ouverture, devoid of the extraneous policy of the governors of ancient states, no sooner found himself at ease from the complicated warfare with which, from the first moment of his government he had been surrounded, than he evinced equal talents for the arts of peace, with those which he had invariably displayed in the field; and that mercy which had ever accompanied him in victory, now transfused itself in a mild and humane policy in the legislature. His first care was to establish, on a firm foundation, the ordinances of religion, according to the existing constitutions of society, to watch over the morals, and excite the industry of those who had committed themselves to his charge.
The effects of these exertions were quickly evident throughout his dominion. Such was the progress of agriculture from this period, that the succeeding crop produced (notwithstanding the various impediments, in addition to the ravages of near a ten years war) full one third of the quantity of sugar and coffee, which had ever been produced at its most prosperous period. The increase of population was such, as to astonish the planters resident in the mother country who could not conceive the possibility of preventing that falling off, in the numbers of the negroes, which formed their absolute necessity for supplying them by the by slave trade. Health, became prevalent throughout the country, with its attendant, cheerfulness, that exhilarator of labor.
Having introduced in a prominent fashion the surprising character, to whose talents and energies, the inhabitants of this regenerated island were indebted for their then existing advantages, it becomes necessary to present the reader with a view of the circumstances which accompanied a life so important in the history of St. Domingo.
TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE was born a slave in the year 1745, on the estate of the Count de Noe, at a small distance from Cape François, in the northern province of St. Domingo, a spot since remarkable as the very source of revolution, and site of a camp, (that Breda,) from whence its native general has issued mandates more powerful than those of any monarch on the earth.
While tending his master's flocks, the genius of Toussaint began to expand itself, by an attention towards objects beyond the reach of his comprehension; and without any other opportunity than was equally possessed by those around him, who remained nearly in impenetrable ignorance, he learnt to read, write, and use figures. Encouraged by the progress he rapidly made in these arts, and fired with the prospect of higher attainments, he employed himself assiduously in the further cultivation of his talents. His acquirements, as is oftentimes the case, under such circumstances, excited the admiration of his fellow slaves, and fortunately attracted the attention of the attorney, or manager of the estate, M. Bayou de Libertas. This gentleman, with a discrimination honorable to his judgment, withdrew Toussaint from the labor of the fields, to his own house, and began the amelioration of his fortune, by appointing him his postilion, an enviable situation among slaves, for its profit, and comparative respectability.
This instance of patronage by M. Bayou, impressed itself strongly on the susceptible mind of Toussaint. True genius and elevated sentiments are inseparable; the recollection of the most trivial action, kindly bestowed in obscurity, or under the pressure of adverse circumstances, warms the heart of sensibility, even in the hour of popular favor, more than the proudest honors. This truth was exemplified by the subsequent gratitude of Toussaint towards his master. He continued to deserve and receive promotion, progressively, to offices of considerable confidence.
Among other traits fondly preserved in St. Domingo of the conduct of Toussaint during the early period of his life, are his remarkable benevolence towards the brute creation, and an unconquerable patience. Of the former, many instance related which evince a mind endowed with every good quality. He knew how to avail himself so well of the sagacity of the horse, as to perform wonders with that animal; without those cruel methods used to extort from them the docility exhibited in Europe; he was frequently seen musing amongst the different cattle, seemingly holding a species of dumb converse, which they evidently understood, and produced in them undoubted marks of attention. They knew and manifested their acquaintance, whenever he appeared; and he has been frequently seen attending with the anxiety of a nurse any accident which had befallen them; the only instance in which he could be roused to irritation, was when a slave had revenged the punishment he received from his owner upon his harmless and unoffending cattle. Proverbial became his patience, insomuch that it was a favorite amusement of the young and inconsiderate upon the same estate, to endeavor to provoke him by wanton tricks and affected malignity. But so perfectly he had regulated his temper, that he constantly answered with a meek smile, and accounted for their conduct by such means, as would render it strictly pardonable. To the law of self-preservation, or the misfortune of not knowing the delight of philanthropy, he would attribute an act of brutal selfishness; while he imputed to a momentary misapprehension an inclination to rude and malicious controversy. Thus was his passive disposition never in the smallest degree affected, being ready on all occasions to conciliate and to bear, in circumstances whether frivolous or of the, highest importance.
At the age of twenty-five Toussaint attached himself to a female of similar character to his own, and their union cemented by marriage, which does not appear to have been violated, conferred respectability on their offspring. Still he continued a slave; nor did the goodness of M. Bayou, although it extended to render him as happy as the state of servitude would admit, ever contemplate the manumission of one who was to become a benefactor to him and his family. Such is the effect of ancient prejudice, in obscuring, the highest excellence of our nature; he who would perform godlike actions without hesitation, from any other cause, shrinks from a breach of etiquette, or a violation of custom! . . .
Continuing on the estate on which he was born, when the deliberations preceding the actual rebellion of the slaves were taking place upon the plantation of Noe the opinion of him who was always regarded with esteem and admiration was solicited. His sanction was of importance, as he had a number of slaves under his command, and a general influence over his fellow negroes. Among the leaders of this terrible revolt were several of his friends, who he had deemed worthy to make his associates for mutual intelligence; yet, from whatever cause is not ascertained, he forbore in the first instance to join in the contest of liberty. It is probable that his manly heart revolted from cruelties attendant on the first burst of revenge in slaves about to retaliate their wrongs and sufferings on their owners. He saw that the innocent would suffer with the guilty; and that the effects of revolution regarded future, more than present justice. When the cloud charged with electric fluid becomes too ponderous, it selects not the brooding murderer on the barren heath, but bursts, perhaps, indiscriminately, in wasteful vengeance, o'er innocent flocks reposing in verdant fields.
There were ties which connected Toussaint more strongly than the consideration of temporary circumstances. These were gratitude for the benefits received from his master, and, generosity to those who were about to fall,—not merely beneath the stroke of the assassin, for that relief from their sufferings was not to be allowed to all, but likewise the change of situations of luxury and splendor, to an exile of danger, contempt, and poverty, with all the miseries such a reverse can accumulate.
Toussaint prepared for the emigration of M. Bayou de Libertas, as if he had only removed for his pleasure, to the American continent. He found means to embark produce that should form a useful provision for the future; procured his escape with his family, and contrived every plan for his convenience: nor did his care end here, for after M. Bayou's establishment in safety at Baltimore, in Maryland, he availed himself of every opportunity to supply any conceived deficiency, and, as he rose in circumstances, to render those of his protégés more qualified to his situation, and equal to that warm remembrance of the services he owed him, which would never expire.
Having provided for the safety of his master in the first instance, Toussaint no longer resisted the temptations to join the army of his country, which had (at this period) assumed a regular form. He attached himself to the corps under the command of a courageous black chief, named Biassou, and was appointed next in command to him. Though possessed of striking abilities the disposition of this general rendered him unfit for the situation which he held; his cruelty caused him to be deprived of a power which he abused. No one was found equally calculated,to supply his place, with the new officer, Toussaint; therefore, quitting for ever a subordinate situation, he was appointed to the command of a division.
If during this early period of his life, the black general had shone conspicuously, through every disadvantage, with the brightest talents and the milder virtues, he now rose superior to all around him, with the qualities and rank of an exalted chief. Every part of his conduct was marked by judgment and benevolence. By the blacks, who had raised him to the dignity he enjoyed, he was beloved with enthusiasm; and, by the public characters of other nations, with whom he had occasion to communicate, he was regarded with every mark of respect and esteem. General Laveaux called him "the negro, the Spartacus, foretold by Raynal, whose destiny it was to avenge the wrongs committed on his race": and the Spanish Marquis d'Hermona declared, in the hyperbole of admiration, that "if the Supreme had descended on earth, he could not inhabit a heart more apparently good, than that of Toussaint L'Ouverture."
His powers of invention in the art of war, and domestic government, the wonder of those who surrounded, or opposed him, had not previously an opportunity for exhibition as at the period to which we have arrived in this history. Embarrassed by a variety of contending factions among the blacks, and by enemies of different nations and characters, he was too much occupied in evading the blows constantly meditated in different quarters, to find leisure for the display of that wisdom and magnanimity which he so eminently exercised. Nevertheless a variety of incidents are recorded in the fleeting memorials of the day to corroborate the excellence of his character, and still more are impressed on the memory of all who have visited the scene of his government. Notwithstanding the absoluteness of military jurisdiction, which existed with extra power, no punishment ever took place without the anxious endeavors of the General-in-Chief to avoid it, exerted in every way that could be devised. No object was too mean for his remonstrance, or advice; nor any crime too great to be subjected to the rules he had prescribed to himself.
Their Majesties, the Emperor and the King of Prussia, having heard the wishes and representations of Monsieur, the Count of Artois, jointly declare that they view the situation in which the King of France currently finds himself as a subject of common interest for all of Europe's sovereigns. They hope that this interest can not fail to be recognized by the powers from whom assistance is being requested. Consequently, jointly with their respective Majesties, they will use the most efficient means in relation to their strengths to place the King of France in a position to be totally free to consolidate the bases of a monarchical government that shall be as amenable to the rights of sovereigns as it is to the well-being of the French nation. In this case then, their said Majesties, the Emperor and the King of Prussia are resolved to act quickly, in mutual agreement, and with the forces necessary to achieve the proposed and common goal. Meanwhile, they shall issue their troops the necessary orders to prepare them for action.
The French people gave themselves a Constitution, and this created malcontents and rebels. The majority of the nation wants to keep it and has sworn to defend it even if it means they must spill their blood. They have also seen, with joy, the war that provided the way for them to keep it. However, the minority, sustained by hope, united all of their efforts in order to gain the upper hand. That led to this internal struggle against the laws, this anarchy which pains good citizens and of which malicious people take great care to cite in order to slander the new regime. That led to this divisiveness and provocation that is spreading to every corner of the nation because nowhere does indifference reign. People are either for the constitution's victory, or for changing it, and their actions either support it or seek to alter it. I shall refrain from examining what the constitution is, in and of itself, and only consider what the circumstances require. As much as possible, I shall try to see it as a stranger would, looking for that which we can expect from it and that which it admits to encouraging. . . .
Can Your Majesty openly ally himself today with those who claim to want only to reform the constitution, or should he generously and unreservedly devote himself to its triumph? That is the real question for which the current state of things makes resolution inevitable. As for the very metaphysical question of knowing if the French are ready for liberty, that discussion has no place here. It is not a matter of judging what we may become in a hundred years, but rather of seeing what the current generation is capable of.
What has happened amidst the unrest in which we have been living for four years? Onerous taxes have been abolished. The concepts of justice and equality are universally widespread, reaching everywhere. Public opinion concerning the rights of the people has justified these actions. The formal recognition of those rights has become a sacred doctrine. Hatred of the nobility, long inspired by feudalism, became deep-rooted, exacerbated by the obvious opposition of the majority of nobles to the same constitution that destroyed them.
During the first year of the Revolution, the People saw these nobles as men made odious by their enjoyment of their privileges as oppressors. This hatred would have stopped if, after the destruction of those privileges, the behavior of the nobles had not reinforced all of the possible reasons to fear them and fight them as irreconcilable enemies.
Devotion to the constitution grew at the same rate. Not only were the People indebted to it for its kind and beneficial effects, but they decided that it was also preparing them to receive greater ones. This was so because those who usually made them bear the load were trying so hard to destroy or modify the constitution.
The Declaration of Rights became a political gospel, and the French constitution has become a religion for which the People are ready to perish.
Also, zeal sometimes went so far as to replace the law. And when the law was not harsh enough to control the troublemakers, the citizens took it upon themselves to punish them.
This is how the property of émigrés was opened to the ravages that vengeance inspires. That is why so many departments believed they were obliged to clamp down on the priests whom public opinion had outlawed, and of whom that same public opinion would have made victims.
In this collision of interests, every feeling took on a degree of passion. "Homeland" is not a word that the imagination took pleasure in embellishing. Rather it is an entity for which we have made sacrifices, and to which we become more attached each day because of the worries it brings. Our homeland has been created by our tremendous efforts. It rises up amidst our worries, and we love it because it costs us, not just because of our hopes for it. Every attempt made against it serves only to enflame our enthusiasm. At this moment when enemy forces are united outside our borders and conferring with internal plotters to strike the most deadly blows, how far will this enthusiasm take us? . . . Ferment is extreme in all corners of the Empire and will explode in a terrible way unless reasonable confidence in Your Majesty's intentions finally calm them. This confidence however cannot be based on protestations. It can only be based on deeds. . . .
Because of the attempts of our enemies and the troubles evident in the capital, because of the extreme unease that had stirred up your guards and the declaration Your Majesty gave them in order to satisfy them, which, under the circumstances was truly impolitic, and because of the situation in Paris and its proximity to the borders . . . all of these things have made us feel the need of an armed camp in our neighborhood. All reasonable minds are struck by the wisdom and urgency of this measure, and it awaits nothing but Your Majesty's approval. Why is it that delays make it seem regretful, when promptness should give it the recognition it deserves?
Already the attempts by the heads of the Parisian National Guard against this measure have brought suspicion that they were acting on orders from above. Already the rantings of some outraged demagogues have awakened suspicions about their relationships with those interested in overthrowing the constitution. Already public opinion compromises Your Majesty's goals. The people will be saddened to think their King is acting as a friend and accomplice of the conspirators. . . .
I know that the stern language of the truth is rarely welcome close to the throne. I also know that, because it is almost never heard there, that revolutions become necessary. I know above all that I must hold the truth up before Your Majesty, not only as a citizen subject to the law, but as a minister honored with his confidence, or at least cloaked in a role that presumes it. I know of nothing that could prevent me from fulfilling a duty that is so clear to me.
In the year 1806, I was drafted with many of my comrades into military service was assigned to the regiment of Romig, which afterward was given the name of Franquemont and of Number 4 and which was in the Ludwigsburg garrison. In the fall I traveled with the regiment to Prussia in the campaign which Emperor Napoleon with the princes who were then his allies, was conducting against Prussia. In the fall we marched through Ellwangen, Nuremberg, Ansbach, Bayreuth, Plauen, Dresden in Saxony, then through Bunzlau into Grossglogau in Silesia, where we remained in garrison for about three weeks.
During a period from January to March, I had to go with half of the regiment to accompany several convoys of captured Prussians from Glogau back through Crossen, Frankfurt-on-the-Oder, and Dresden, where we were relieved. We were given good quarters everywhere, which kept me always healthy and cheerful in spite of the continuous marching. Furthermore, I was only nineteen years old, a fact which caused me frequently to participate in thoughtless and dangerous enterprises. . . .
On this journey from Thorn to Colberg I saw a lake which lay in a forest by a monastery. In this lake were multitudes of frogs which were of a very beautiful bright blue color, and no soldier would quit until he had caught one of these beautiful frogs. Beyond this region we came to a little town in which the largest part of the inhabitants were Jews. The same day we had had to walk several miles through swamps and snow water up to our knees; and, when quarters were taken there for the evening, I and four other men came into a Jew's house. The room was full of straw and goats. Since neither fire nor wood was to be had, we went into the next room to lodge, looked for the Jew, and took him into custody; for only by applying such stern treatment could we induce the wife to bring us food on her husband's account.
While we were besieging the fortress of Colberg, we were assigned a camp in a swampy place. Since wood and even straw were rarely to be had, the barracks were built from earth and sod, and ditches were dug around them.
As some sickness was arising because of the continual fog, I also became sick and had to go to the hospital in the fortress of Stettin, which is also a fortress on the sea. When I arrived with several from the regiment, we were placed three bunks high under the roof in the hospital. Here twelve to fifteen of the men about me died every day, which made me sick to my stomach and would have caused my death in the end if I and four comrades had not reported ourselves as being well on the second day and escaped. This hospital and three others, according to rumor, had six thousand sick people; and that was the reason also why everyone with an appetite had to suffer great hunger, which was one of the things that moved me to leave. The third day we five men were allowed to go, and we traveled without delay to our regiment.
When we five men came again without delay to the fortress of Colberg, we had the honor of enduring the siege in good health for another three weeks. Pentecost Night is especially fixed in my memory, since the fortress was stormed then.
When we had to leave camp after midnight, all the regiments marched forward through the swamp; and finally, when light firing began upon the outposts, we were commanded to attack by wading through the rampart ditches and to scramble up the outworks by chopping and shoveling. When I stood in the ditch, each first soldier had to pull up the next one with his rifle. The ramparts were of sand, and everyone frequently fell back again because of the attack of the enemy, or just because of the sliding sand; yet in that place huge cannonballs flew by above us, thundering so violently that we would have believed the earth would burst to pieces. When everyone was almost on top of the earthwork, the Prussians were slaughtered with great vigor, and the rest took flight into the gate. Then we, too, wanted to gain possession of the gateway in order to enter the city, but at this critical time many of these Prussians were shot along with our men by small and large guns, and the gate was closed.
Since all sorts of shells and rockets broke out of the fortress like a cloudburst, we had to take to flight. Those who meanwhile were scrambling up the outworks had to jump from the fortress into the moat along with their prisoners, and all the rest had to do likewise. During this retreat, many fell on bayonets, many drowned, and many of us were also brought into the fortress as prisoners and sent away to Danzig by sea.
When we reached camp, we saw many who had lost their helmet, rifle, saber, knapsack, etc. Because of various falls and pains, many looked for wounds and had none; many, however, did not become aware of the wounds which they had until they reached camp.
In this camp there were Poles, Westphalians, French, and, as mentioned before, only two regiments of us from Württemberg. One morning the Prussians surprised the Polish camp from the sea with their ships, as had happened before at Easter. The cannon fire on the Poles was so heavy that they could not withdraw fast enough. Their cannonballs also traveled more than half again as far toward our camp as our balls did across the water, since the surrounding swamps were frozen and the balls could roll along on the ice so fast that one ball often took off the feet and legs of ten or twelve men, frequently both feet of the same man. During this blockade the Prussians frequently made attacks, although every time with great losses.
There were six companies of 100 men each, embarked in two frigates, 300 in each. I was on board the Melpomene.
During the six days' sail to Lisbon, my thoughts were not the most agreeable. I was on my way to that country in which I had already suffered so much. My health was good but my spirits were very low. I could not yet bring [myself] to associate with the other men, so as to feel pleasure in their amusements. I found it necessary to humor them in many things and be obliging to all. I was still called saucy and courted by my comrades to join them. I had changed my bedfellow more than once; they not liking my dry manner, as they called it.
On the seventh day after leaving Deal we were landed at Blackhorse Square, Lisbon, amidst the shouts of the inhabitants. We were marched to the top of the town and billeted in a convent. A good many were billeted in the town, the convent being not large enough to contain us. I was billeted upon a cook-shop.
Two years before, while encamped before Lisbon, I had often wished to enter the town; now I as ardently wished to leave it. I was sickened every hour of the day with the smell of garlic and oil. Everything there is fried in oil that will fry. Oil and garlic is their universal relish. Cleanliness they have not the least conception of. The town is a dunghill from end to end; their principal squares are not even free from heaps of filth. You may make a shift to walk by the side of streets with clean shoes; but cross one, if you dare. I inquired at one of our regiment, who had been left sick, if they had any scavengers? “Yes,” said he, “they have one.” “He will have a great many under him?” “None.” “What a folly, to have only one to such a city!” “And that one, only when he may please to come.” “You joke with me.” “No, I don't. The rain is their street-cleaner; he will be here soon; there will be clean streets while he remains; then they prepare work for him again.”
We had not been three hours in the town, and were busy cooking, when the alarm sounded. There were nine British and three Portuguese regiments in the town. We were all drawn up and remained under arms, expecting every moment to receive the enemy, whose skirmishers covered Windmill Hill. In about an hour the light companies of all the regiments were ordered out, alongst with the 71st. Colonel Cadogan called to us, at the foot of the hill, “My lads, this is the first affair I have ever been in with you; show me what you can do, now or never.” We gave a hurra and advanced up the hill, driving their advanced skirmishers before us, until about half way up, when we commenced a heavy fire and were as hotly received. In the meantime, the remaining regiments evacuated the town. The enemy pressed so hard upon us we were forced to make the best of our way down the hill and were closely followed by the French, through the town, up Gallows Hill. We got behind a mud wall and kept our ground in spite of their utmost efforts. Here we lay upon our arms all night.
Next morning, by daybreak, there was not a Frenchman to be seen. As soon as the sun was fairly up we advanced into the town and began a search for provisions, which were now become very scarce; and to our great joy found a large store-house full of dry fish, flour, rice and sugar, besides bales of cloth. All now became bustle and mirth; fires were kindled and every man became a cook. Scones were the order of the day. Neither flour nor sugar were wanting and the water was plenty; so I fell to make myself a flour scone. Mine was mixed and laid upon the fire, and I, hungry enough, watching it. Though neither neat nor comely, I was anticipating the moment when it would be eatable. Scarce was it warm ere the bugle sounded to arms. Then was the joy that reigned a moment before turned to execrations. I snatched my scone off the fire, raw as it was, put it into my haversack and formed. We remained under arms until dark and then took up our old quarters upon Gallows Hill, where I ate my raw scone, sweetly seasoned by hunger. In advanced to the town, we were much entertained by some of our men who had got over a wall the day before, when the enemy were in the rear, and now were put to their shifts to get over again and scarce could make it out.
Next morning the French advanced to a mud wall about forty yards in front of the one we lay behind. It rained heavily this day and there was very little firing. During the night we received orders to cover the bugle and tartans of our bonnets with black crape, which had been served out to us during the day, and to put on our great coats. Next morning the French, seeing us thus, thought we had retired and left Portuguese to guard the heights. With dreadful shouts, they leaped over that wall before which they had stood, when guarded by the British. We were scarce able to withstand their fury. To retreat was impossible; all behind being ploughed land, rendered deep by the rain. There was not a moment to hesitate. To it we fell, pell-mell, French and British mixed together. It was a trial of strength in single combat; every man had his opponent, many had two. I got one up to the wall, on the point of my bayonet. He was unhurt. I would have spared him, but he would not spare himself. He cursed and defied me, nor ceased to attack my life, until he fell, pierced by my bayonet. His breath died away, in a curse and menace. This was the work of a moment; I was compelled to this extremity. I was again attacked, but my antagonist fell, pierced by a random shot. We soon forced them to retire over the wall, cursing their mistake. At this moment I stood gasping for breath, not a shoe on my feet; my bonnet had fallen to the ground. Unmindful of my situation, I followed the enemy over the wall. We pursued them about a mile and then fell back to the scene of our struggle. It was covered with dead and wounded, bonnets and shoes trampled and stuck in the mud. I recovered a pair of shoes; whether they had been mine or not I cannot tell; they were good.
Here I first got any plunder. A French soldier lay upon the ground dead; he had fallen backwards; his hat had fallen off his head, which was kept up by his knapsack. I stuck the hat with my foot, and felt it rattle; seized it in a moment and, in the lining, found a gold watch and silver crucifix. I kept them; as I had as good a right to them as any other. Yet they were not valuable in my estimation. At this time, life was held by so uncertain a tenure, and my comforts were so scanty, that I would have given the watch for a good meal and a dry shirt. There was not a dry stitch on my back at the time, nor for the next two days.
No. 59. General Hospital, St. Jean de Luz.
21st. Nov. 1813.
On the top of the hill they had a reserve, these came forward and gave us a crack. Now a brisk fire was kept up on both sides, as I was in the act of pulling my trigger I received a wound in both legs, the ball glanced or scraped the skin just above the outside ankle of the left foot and passed through the gristle behind the ankle of the right just missing the bone, down I fell. I endeavoured to rise but found I could not stand and that my shoe was full of blood. “The Devil's luck to ye” said Ned Eagan, “For a fool, now can't ye be easey and lay quiet for a minute or so til we give them another charge, and send them in double quick over the hill.” At this moment Hooker came to me and said “I hope Bill you are not much hurt, take some of this rum.” “Arrah Tom” says Eagen “now you would be the best fellow alive and so you would if you would just be after letting me wet my trottle with a drop of the crature.” Hooker gave him his canteen saying “you are welcome Ned.” Ned wetted his “trottle,” gave Tom the canteen shouting “Och my jewels, then bad luck to me if one of ye don't get this ledden pill through ye, then you may say that old Eagan's son is the biggest liar in all Ireland.” So saying he put in the cartridge. Hooker was employed in empting some of the rum into my canteen, and Eagan was busy in sending down the charge, when down he came on top of us. They did not give him time to fulfill his promise, he was shot through the body and in a moment was a corpse. Hooker shook my hand saying, “Cover yourself behind Ned, I must set to work, can I do anything for you.” On leaving me he said “I know I shall not see this day out, as soon as you get intelligence of my fate write to my Mother.”
Now the battle raged with double fury, fresh troops poured up to reinforce each side and soon our men moved forward, but it was not many paces before our buglers sounded the retreat and the enemy advanced, but was soon driven back. My comrades this time nearly gained the top of the hill, but there they found the enemy had been reinforced, and was again obliged to retire. I soon became in rear of the enemy's line and exposed to the fire of our men. This was not of long duration, for ours drove them back to their old ground. I observed fresh troops pouring down to join the enemy, who again advanced and passed me some distance. Now the fire was very hot and our balls passed and dropped about like hail. A French soldier came and took what money I had in my pockets, and was in the act of taking my knapsack when our men cheered and charged. I caught fire at the noise and as soon as the enemy has passed me I put my hand on poor Ned's forelock, for my own was not loaded. I had not taken my eye off the fellow who had robbed me, I took a deadly aim at him and down he fell. I was so overjoyed at seeing the rascal fall, and so animated was the moment, at the thought of being released from so perilous a situation, that forgotting the danger I exposed myself to, I sat up with my cap on the muzzle of my forelock and cheered my comrades as they passed me. Hooker was in the throng, he smiled and said something to me as he rushed by, but I could not catch the words. Our Adjutant rode up to me and said “Corporal W___ I hope your wound is not severe, I shall remember your conduct, and recommend you for promotion.”
This time the hill was taken. I looked around me, the combatants had disappeared, nothing was to be seen now but the killed and wounded. I crawled to the fellow that had robbed me, got my own and more money in to the bargain, he was shot in the small of the back just under his knapsack. I had been long enough in this place so I managed to get down the hill to the hedge, here I found Dr. Fitzpatrick, got my wounds dressed.
While the action was in its hottest fury I was several times struck with admiration at the heroic bravery of the officers and noncommissioned officers of the enemy. I shall select one out of many instances of zeal and self devotion displayed by these brave soldiers. A young officer about twenty was in front of his men leading them on. The men were several times stopped by our fire yet this brave young fellow kept in their front, waving his sword, calling and intreating them to come on. At length he returned to his men and with the flat of his sword drove them or rather some of them on, but his men had lost all confidence. Finding he could not prevail on them to advance, he ran towards us some distance and halted, here he continued to wave his sword in hopes to inspire them with courage, when one of our men shot him through the body and he fell dead.
At sight of this palace, at once of Gothic and modern architecture, of the Romanofs and Rurice, of their still extant throne, of the cross of the great Ivan, and of the most beautiful part of the city of which the Kremlin commands a view, and which the flames, still confined to the bazaar, appeared inclined to respect, his first hopes revived. His ambition was gratified by this conquest. He was heard to say, “I am at length then in Moscow! in the ancient city of the Czars: in the Kremlin.” He examined all the details with eager curiosity and a lofty feeling of complacency.
Two officers had taken up their quarters in one of the buildings of the Kremlin from which they had a commanding view both of the northern and western parts of the city. About midnight they were awakened by an overpowering light. They instantly looked out and saw palaces in flames which, after exhibiting all their striking and elegant architecture in the fullest blaze, in a short period converted them into ruins. They observed that the wind, being in the north, drove the flames directly upon the Kremlin, and felt the utmost alarm for that vast enclosure of buildings where the choicest troops of the army, and their commander, were reposing. They were likewise apprehensive respecting all the adjoining houses, in which our soldiers, attendants, and horses, after all their great fatigues, and a full evening's repast, were, it could not be doubted, all sunk in profound sleep.
An alarming and awful suspicion now darted on their minds. The Muscovites aware of our rash and dangerous negligence, had probably conceived the hope of destroying our soldiers together with the city, as they lay overpowered by wine, fatigue, and sleep; or, rather perhaps, they had intended to involve in the catastrophe Napoleon himself. They had thought probably that the destruction of such a man would more than compensate for that of their capital; that the result would be of such mighty moment that the whole of Moscow might well be sacrificed to it; that, perhaps, in order to their obtaining so great a triumph it might be the will of heaven to require of them so great a sacrifice; and, finally, that such a vast funeral pile was perhaps required for such a vast Colossus.
At length day, a day of dismal ruin, appeared. It came to add to the horror of the scene, and to dim its splendor. Many of the officers took shelter in the halls of the palace. The chiefs, including Mortier himself, overcome by the fire with which they had contended for six and thirty hours, returned to the Kremlin, and fell down in a state of exhaustion and despair.
They were silent, and we accused ourselves of the disaster. It appeared clear to the greater number that the neglect of discipline and the intoxication of our soldiers had commenced it, and that the tempest had completed it. We regarded ourselves with something of a feeling of disgust. The exclamations of horror which would in consequence of this event resound through Europe, absolutely terrified us. We threw our eyes upon the ground in consternation at the idea of so frightful a catastrophe: it tarnished our glory; it tore from the fruit of it; it menaced both our present and our future existence; we were now nothing but an army of criminals, on whom heaven and the civilized world were bound to inflict deserved punishment. From this abyss of dreadful reflections and the violence of our rage against the imagined incendiaries, we recovered only in consequence of the eager pursuit of intelligence, all of which now began to assert, and every moment more strongly to confirm the idea, that the Russians alone were chargeable with this calamity.
All the narrators had remarked men of atrocious look and tattered garments and frantic women roaming amidst the flames, and thus completing a horrid image of the infernal world. These wretched miscreants, intoxicated at once with liquor and the success of their crimes, did not vouchsafe to conceal themselves but ran about in triumph through the burning streets: they were often taken with flambeaux in their hands, extending the work of destruction with zeal and even fury; it became necessary in order to make them drop their torches to cut at their arms with the saber. It was said that these banditti had been loosened from their chains by the Russian chiefs on purpose to burn Moscow, and that, in fact, so extreme a retaliation could only have been formed by patriotism and executed by crime.
While our soldiers were still contending with the fire, and the army were disputing with the flames so noble a prey, Napoleon, whose sleep no one had uttered to disturb during the night, was awakened by the double light of day and conflagration. In the first impulse of his feelings he display[ed] great irritation, and seemed determined to master the devouring element; he soon, however, bent before the difficulty, and yielded to what was absolutely inevitable. Surprised, after striking at the heart of an empire, to find it exhibit any other sentiment than that of submission and terror, he felt himself conquered and surpassed in determination.
This mighty conquest, for which he had sacrificed every thing, appeared now like a phantom which had been long pursued by him, which he had vainly thought he had at length grasped, but which, after all, he now saw vanishing in air, in a whirlwind of smoke and flames. He was then in a state of extreme agitation, and seemed parched by the flames by which he was surrounded. He was every moment starting from his seat, and after a few hurried steps again returning [to] it. He rapidly traversed his apartments, and his abrupt and vehement movements indicated the dreadful trouble of his mind: he quitted, and resumed, and again left business of the most pressing urgency to rush to his windows and trace the progress of the flames; while the following short and broken exclamations occasionally gave vent to his oppressed and laboring feelings. “What a frightful spectacle! To have done it themselves! Such a number of palaces! What extraordinary resolution! What a people! They are genuine Scythians!”
This incident had decided Napoleon. He rapidly descended the northern staircase, celebrated for the massacre of the Strelitzes, and gave orders for a guide to conduct him out of the city, a league on the Petersburg road, to the imperial castle of Petrowsky.
We were besieged, however; in the midst of an ocean of flames; they blocked up all the gates of the citadel, and repulsed the first attempts to escape. After considerable search, however, there was discovered across the rocks a postern gate which opened towards the Mosqua. It was through this narrow pass that Napoleon and his officers and guard obtained their escape from the Kremlin. But what had they gained by this escape? Still nearer to the flames than before, they could neither go back nor stay where they were; and how was it possible to advance? How were they to cross the waves of this sea of fire?