CHAPTER XVIII.
_GOeRGEI FORGETS HIS WOUND._
"It's make or break to-day, Botskay. Of course we shall keep onfighting, but unless our fellows smash Haynau up our chance is gone."
Szondi and I were standing behind Goergei on a piece of rising groundfrom which we could obtain a view of the battle. The chief's faceshowed how annoyed he was at having to remain behind, and I nudged mycomrade, who shrugged his shoulders.
"Wound or no wound," he whispered, "if the fight goes against us you'llsee him in the thick of it. Look! He's waving his hand to the hussarswe charged with the other day. They'd be glad to have him at their headnow."
Our hearts beat high as the cavalry passed in numerous bodies, our hopesbeing largely placed on these gallant fellows.
Klapka had posted twenty batteries in the forest of Harkaly, and it washis plan, or rather Goergei's, by a combined attack of infantry, horse,and artillery, to break the Austrian centre, and push it back beyond thevillage of Czern.
It was nine o'clock in the morning when the infantry moved out, and verysoon we heard the thunder of the heavy guns.
This was the beginning; I asked myself what would be the end. Thesoldiers knew how much depended on their exertions, and I judged bytheir set faces that the enemy would have all their work cut out to beatthem.
Goergei stood looking intently through his glass, occasionally giving asmile of satisfaction as the troops took up their positions.
"It ought to answer," he muttered. "Upon my word, I believe we shallbeat them; Klapka's handling his men beautifully. They want more guns,though, on the right. Szondi, tell Benitzky to move some of his guns tothe edge of the forest.--Botskay, ride to General Klapka, and wait tosee what happens in the centre. Come back the instant he drives theAustrians from the village.--Mizvy, tell Prince Leiningen to hold--"
I did not hear the rest, being already on my way to General Klapka.
The battle was now in full swing, but the thick volumes of smoke made itdifficult to see what was going on.
Soon I met wounded men dropping to the rear, and from one of themgathered that the Austrian centre was getting a terrific pounding.
"They'll have to go, captain," said the man. "Flesh and blood can'tstand it much longer."
After giving him a drink from my flask, I rode on, finding myself atlength amongst Klapka's staff.
I delivered my message to the general, who said smilingly, "I don'tthink you will have long to wait;" and turning to one of his officers,he sent him off somewhere with an order.
Everything around me was bustle and excitement. Men came and went inendless succession, and almost without a pause.
One young fellow, whose horse's nostrils were laced with foam, dashed upat a gallop, and saluted with his left arm, his right being shattered bya musket-ball.
The general said something to him, but he shook his head, smiled gaily,and was off again in spite of his broken limb.
Meanwhile the fight in the centre was fast approaching a crisis.
That the Austrians would break I felt sure, my only wonder being howthey had managed to hold out so long.
Shot and shell made gaps in their ranks, a fearful musketry fire sweptthem away in scores, while hussars and dragoons thundered down upon themalmost without intermission.
As the wounded Magyar had said, flesh and blood could not stand it muchlonger, and Klapka's keen eye saw that the critical moment had arrived.
Another officer darted off like lightning; and we, looking on, saw ourcavalry draw up in one immense body.
We could not hear, but we knew they were cheering, and then we watchedthem move forward.
Walk, trot, gallop! It was a superb spectacle as the sun shone down onthe beautiful horses, the forest of glittering swords, the lithe andmuscular horsemen.
We held our breath as they flew over the ground, and in our intenseexcitement almost felt the shock as they crashed into the enemy.
So certain was the result that I asked Klapka's permission to follow,knowing how eager Goergei would be to learn every detail.
As I expected, that last charge broke the Austrian centre through andthrough; and the men who had stood up so bravely against the pick of ourarmy were thoroughly beaten.
Back they went, helter-skelter, anyhow--men and guns and horses allmixed together!
Here half a company; there part of a squadron; yonder a field-gun, thehorses clattering and tearing along like mad.
Back they went pell-mell into their lines, into the village, and throughit; at which I turned my horse's head, and rode, cheering like a maniac,to Goergei.
"Make or break," Szondi had said. Well, we were made, and the Austrianswere broken.
Good little horse! On you go, straight as the crow flies. Never mindobstacles. We'll think of these to-morrow; for we're carrying goodnews, my beauty.
Cheer, my lads! You have the right. There's the general! How pleasedhe will be at the news!
I dashed up, breathless, while my horse trembled all over.
"Czern is ours, sir!" I panted. "The Austrians are in flight!"
There were several officers near, but my head was so dizzy that I couldscarcely distinguish them.
One, whom I took to be Szondi, then helped me to dismount.
The ride, the excitement, and possibly an accidental blow, though Icould not remember one, had made me feel quite strange.
The men around me became shadowy figures, their conversation meredisjointed scraps, such as, "Klapka--key of position--pay forAcz--Vienna--next to Goergei," which I heard without understanding.
Then Szondi put a flask to my lips, and I took a deep draught ofsomething which stopped the shivering in my limbs, and enabled me tostand firm.
A messenger had arrived from Klapka. He was telling the story of theAustrian flight, but with more detail, and our general's face beamedwith delight.
Some of the officers had disappeared; others remained; and these, likethe general, were filled with joy.
Into the huge gap which I had seen made our fellows were pouring at thedouble, and the battlefield rang with shouts of victory.
I had put my arm through the bridle, and stood leaning against a hillockof sand, waiting for the next order.
Suddenly there came the sound of a report so tremendous that the earthshook, and we gazed at one another aghast.
Again and again it broke forth, while the field was hidden from sight bydense curtains of thick smoke.
At a word from the general Szondi darted off, but almost before he hadgone a mounted officer dashed up to us.
He came from Klapka, and told his tale briefly.
Every man and every gun of the Austrian reserve, every man and every gunof the Russian division, had been flung across the path of ourvictorious columns.
Eighty pieces of cannon were vomiting death; thousands of rifles werepouring deadly volleys into our vanguard.
What the Austrians had suffered during the earlier part of the morningour people were suffering now, only on a more fearful scale.
Yet we gathered from the messenger that they had not retreated a foot,though it was impossible for them to advance.
Our sole hope now lay in Prince Leiningen and the reserve which hecommanded.
Klapka had already sent to him, and now Szondi returned with theinformation that the prince was advancing with reckless bravery againstthe Austrian left.
Goergei could no longer contain himself. Go forward he must; go forwardhe would; and if his wound burst out afresh and killed him, as thedoctors feared, well--he would not be the only man to die!
I jumped into the saddle and went with the others.
The awful cannonade continued without intermission, and every man whohad ever seen a battle felt his heart sink at the thought of the havocit was committing.
But we did not altogether ride without hope. Another messenger hadfound the general to tell him that the gallant Leiningen had broken the
Austrian left, and we cheered the news heartily.
The story of the fight, as it thus came to us piecemeal, was asuccession of ups and downs.
Ill news, it is said, travels apace; and hardly had we finished cheeringwhen a fresh officer brought word that the Russians, by a sharpmanoeuvre, had trained their guns on our reserve, and were decimatingit.
Perhaps it was as well that those who forced us to waste those preciousweeks before the arrival of the Russians were not on the battlefieldoutside Comorn.
At the Waag, at Acz, and now here, the Muscovites had actually snatchedvictory from our grasp.
As we plunged together into the conflict the soldiers caught sight oftheir gallant leader, and for a moment ceased fighting, while they rentthe air with shouts of "Goergei! Goergei!"
Had it been possible to save the battle, the presence of this one manwould have accomplished the feat; but it was not.
The men died willingly enough, but they could not advance in face ofthose awful guns.
In vain our artillerymen worked at their batteries like slaves, vainlyfootmen and cavalry threw themselves against the solid mass; they cameback every time baffled, broken, and in sadly-diminished numbers.
Of my personal share in the fight there is little to tell.
Goergei, forgetful of his wound, threw himself into the thick of it, andwhere he went I followed.
Now we charged at the head of a shattered remnant of a cavalry regiment;again we were in the midst of an infantry square, encouraging the men tostand firm; then we were making a desperate attempt on a battery.
The staff had their fill of fighting for once, but to no avail.
Even Goergei acknowledged the truth at last, and reluctantly gave theorder to withdraw.
We were fairly beaten, but not routed; and the enemy had been tooseverely handled to follow up their success.
Taking our wounded, we retired slowly, the men, in spite of theirterrible punishment, being unwilling to leave the field.
I had lost sight of Szondi in the heat of the conflict, but he returnedlater to the entrenchments unhurt, save for an odd scratch or two oflittle account.
Fortune had dealt less kindly with several of our comrades, and wemissed more than one familiar face.
"That's the worst bout I've ever been in," said Szondi. "I thought atone time not a man would come out alive."
"We might as well have stayed out there," said Mizvy gruffly. "Thegame's up."
"Oh, come!" I cried cheerfully. "It surely isn't as bad as that!"
"Well, my young wiseacre, if you can show me one single loophole, you'vemore brains than I ever gave you credit for."
There was a laugh at this, but Mizvy went on sulkily, "We can't stayhere--that's certain; and where are we to go? It will take 20,000 mento garrison Comorn, and what's Goergei to do with the rest? FightHaynau and Paskewitch together?"
"There's our army in the south," I began, but Mizvy pulled me up.
"Army in the south!" he echoed scornfully; "why, Bern, brave old fellowas he is, can hardly hold his own head above water!"
"But there's Dembinski. He'll make a big effort to join us."
Mizvy looked at me with a grin. "Dembinski's off to Szegedin with theDiet," he said. "It's a handy place to slip over into Turkey from, whenthe crash comes."
Several of the officers cried "Shame!" but Mizvy took this mark ofdispleasure with admirable coolness.
"All right," he said quietly. "But just wait till any of those fellowsventure north."
"What then?" I asked, laughing.
"Why, then you can sew me up in a sack and drop me into any river that'shandy!"
"We'll do that with pleasure," said Szondi. "But there's the generalbeckoning to you."
Mizvy took himself off, but he left an unpleasant sensation behind him.
He was a level-headed man, with plenty of shrewd sense, and having noprejudices to warp his judgment.
I am not sure that personally he cared the toss of a button for eitherGoergei or Kossuth, the constitution of '48, or independence; but he wasa thorough soldier, and did care very much about beating the enemy.
In his eyes, a man's chief if not sole merit lay in his ability to winbattles, and I remember hearing him more than once unfold his pet theoryabout the treatment of generals.
Mizvy had little sympathy with unsuccessful leaders, and his schemewould hardly have proved popular amongst men of weak minds; yet, asSzondi often pointed out to scoffers, promotion would become rapid.
The foundation of the theory was that no responsible officer should everbe beaten; if he so far forgot himself, the authorities were to have himshot, and give his command to another.
"Cruel?" growled Mizvy, when a listener offered that objection. "Nothalf as cruel as the present system. It would soon weed out all theduffers, and the peacocks, whose only idea of soldiering is to strutabout in gold lace. Now, here's a fellow--goodness knows where he comesfrom, but he has influence; give him a brigade, and set him to dosomething. Back he comes in a day or two with a handful of men; theenemy has accounted for the others. He wouldn't do that trick often, ifyou shot him the first time. Think a second duffer would want to fillthe vacancy? Hardly. None but the best men would try to get the pickof the berths in my army, I can tell you."
Mizvy was not exactly popular with his fellows, but he was a man whoseopinions claimed some attention, and his remarks concerning our allieswere far from comforting.
We did not dream for an instant, of course, that any of them would befrightened, but at the same time there were various little mattersconcerning which we felt doubtful.
Nicholas Szondi summed up the case very clearly.
"There's no question of Bern's courage," he said, "or of Dembinski'seither; but we needn't pretend they're in love with Goergei, or he withthem. Now, if we joined forces--and that's the only way to saveHungary--we should only want one chief."
"Well, Goergei isn't likely to yield his command to the Poles."
"Just so; and they won't be too eager to serve under him. That's wherethe difficulty lies."
"If old Mizvy's plan were in working order," said one man lazily,"'twould save a lot of bother at present."
"We certainly shouldn't suffer from having too many generals."
Szondi agreed laughingly. "Goergei and Klapka look very solemn overthere."
"They're discussing the new plans, and it's my belief we shall findMizvy wasn't far out in his forecast."
That same night our general told us he had resolved on retreating toWaitzen with a portion of the army, while Klapka, with 76 guns and18,000 men, was to throw himself into Comorn.
I now learned that one Austrian army corps was marching straight onPesth, from which our troops had withdrawn, and I looked forward withpleasure to again meeting my old friends of the 9th Honved regiment.
Since joining the staff I had not heard from Rakoczy, but as there hadbeen no fighting at the capital I concluded he was still alive and well.
Early on the morning succeeding the stubborn fight we said farewell toour friends in Klapka's division, and before it was really light beganthe march.
Two days later, having picked up various bodies of troops on the route,we halted a few hours' distance from Waitzen.
Here the 9th Honveds were assembled, and as soon as the general hadfinished with me, I rushed off to find Rakoczy.
I really don't know which of us was the more pleased at the meeting,though the genial colonel could not forego his chaff, and pretended itwas a great honour to receive a visit from one of the staff. Then hetook me into his tent and sent for Dobozy, from whom I had another warmwelcome.
"The accounts from the front frightened us a bit," said Dobozy. "Webegan to think you would have been better off in Pesth."
"Been pretty warm, hasn't it?" asked Rakoczy. "But there, you shalltell us all about it. You must be getting pretty used to playing alosing game by now, eh?"
"Still, I don't know that I like it any better than
at first. By theway, have you seen Count Beula lately?"
"Cleared out the same time as Kossuth. Paid you a visit at Raab, didn'the?"
"Yes, with a proclamation from the Diet in his pocket. But I had betterbegin at the beginning, and tell you the story properly."
"Much better. Make yourself comfortable. You may be sure of aninterested audience, though a small one."
He was right in that remark, for both he and Dobozy listened mostattentively, only interrupting by an occasional exclamation.
"You certainly can't complain of having been dull yonder," said Rakoczyat the finish.
"Did you kill that Von Theyer fellow?" asked Dobozy.
"I hope not, though I'm afraid he got a nasty slash across the face."
"Pity that, being a handsome sort of chap. 'Twill spoil his beauty."
"In that case," said the colonel, "our friend Botskay must take care ofhimself. This Von Theyer, though a splendid soldier, is vainer than anywoman, and he won't easily forgive the man who disfigured him."
"Aren't we getting on a bit too fast? The fellow may be dead andburied, for aught I know. When our troopers came back from the Russianguns, they didn't give me too much time for investigation."
"That Russian division seems to be the mainstay of the army."
"It has been, so far; but now tell me what you've been doing in Pesth."
"Putting the regiment straight again," said the colonel.
"And forming guards of honour," added Dobozy. "We've had a very pleasantand agreeable time."
"A wonder you left."
"We had such very pressing invitations to leave that the colonel couldhardly refuse. The Diet, you know, has gone to Szegedin with the armyof the north."
"Yes. We heard that."
"Well, directly Haynau had you beaten up yonder, he sent an army corpshot-foot for Pesth. At the same time Paskewitch dispatched a Russiancorps from the east, and we thought it time to move."
"How was it you didn't go south with the others?"
"Because, fortunately, we had orders to join Goergei here."
"Shall we make a stand at Waitzen?"
The colonel shook his head. "May stay for a bit of a fight," hereplied. "Nothing more."
"Then what do you think Goergei will do?"
"Retreat through the mountains, and threaten to strike at Galicia. Thatwill bring Paskewitch back in double quick time, and Dembinski will haveonly the Austrians to tackle. Oh, we shall lead them a lively danceyet!"
"If we aren't caught here," said Dobozy, "which seems rather likely."
"I see you are still wearing the baron's ring," remarked Rakoczy, as Irose to go.
"Yes. I thought it would be as safe on my finger as anywhere else, tillI am able to take it to Vienna."
"Unless you happen to be badly wounded and left on the field. There area good many prowlers who would willingly finish you for the sake of astone like that."
"They would be counting without Mecsey Sandor, who follows me everywherelike a dog; but I really must go now. We shall move again at daybreak;"and, bidding my two friends good-bye, I walked across to the general'squarters.
The first man I met was Nicholas Szondi, who had just returned from along ride with Nagy Sandor.
"Better get a bit of supper and a nap while you've the chance," he said."We're likely to be off before long."
"Anything serious?"
"Only that the Russian cavalry are close at hand."
"Then we're in for another fight?"
"I expect so, unless the general prefers to run."
Taking my comrade's advice, I had some supper; and wrapping my mantlearound me, I lay down to snatch an hour's sleep.