Читать книгу Two Royal Foes - Eva Annie Madden - Страница 10

AT JENA

Оглавление

Table of Contents

When old Hans left Bettina and the women he followed the highway until he came to a path leading to a red-roofed farm house belonging to his cousin.

Seeing Herr Schmelze standing in the doorway, the old man went in.

"Good-day," called the cousin. "Himmel, Hans, but the firing is awful!"

Certainly the roar, always steady and loud, seemed to increase to a noise like thunder. Towards Jena they saw a cloud of blue smoke rising always thicker and higher. The air, usually so fresh with the breath of the pines, choked their throats with its taste of powder. The din was awful, shrieks, shots, and the cannon roar uniting. Before Hans could even answer, the flying feet of the first fugitives were heard on the road, men and frightened women, furniture on their backs, children in their arms, hands holding what they could; on they came as if fiends were at their heels, a great horror pursuing them.

The cousin's wife, seeing Hans, came out to greet him. Her fingers were held fast to her ears and she kept crying on God to help them.

"Be quiet, Lotte," commanded her husband, "and bring Hans some breakfast."

She ran back into the house, and Herr Schmelze led the way to a rustic table beneath an elm.

"It is cold," said he, shivering at the dampness, "but out here it is better, is it not? We can see all that is happening."

Frau Schmelze returned with black bread, sausage, hard-boiled eggs, and beer.

Arranging them on the table, she bowed her head most piously.

"Bless the mealtime," she said, jumping an "Amen" as the cannon thundered a sudden volley.

"Mealtime," answered the men, German fashion, and fell to eating.

"Eat while you can, friends," and Frau Schmelze smoothed her clean black apron over her short skirt of blue. "The soldiers will soon get everything."

Germans seem always able to eat, so, though the cannon roared and the fugitives passed by dozens in the road, Hans and the cousin partook of the meal in large mouthfuls, exchanging news as they drank their beer.

"I came from Weimar to-day," said Herr Schmelze, in his slow, deliberate way. "The Queen of Prussia has been with our Duchess, but this morning she left."

"I saw her on the road," said Hans, and told of the adventure at the inn. "And I saw Napoleon," he added, and while he related again the story, the roaring grew fiercer and fiercer. Suddenly Frau Schmelze ran from the house.

"Ach Gott! Ach Gott! Ach Gott!" she screamed. "Conrad, Hans, look! look!"

And she pointed to the highroad.

Flying, galloping, running as if demons were at their heels, they saw soldiers on foot, soldiers on horseback, hussars, dragoons, heard pistols exploding, saw swords flashing, heard voices screaming madly. It was horrible.

A quick shot sounded. A soldier fell like a stone at the gate.

Hans and Conrad reached him as if by magic.

"Dead," said the cousin, as they drew the body to the grass. "And a Prussian."

There was a stream of blood in the road, men were falling, riding over each other, dropping to death everywhere. On they came, faster and more furious.

"Save us! Save us from Napoleon!"

Hans flung open the gate, and in rushed two wild-eyed women caught in their flight by the hussars, who seeing them out of their way, rushed on after higher game.

"Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!" The cry rose even above the cannon roar. Hans and Conrad looked each other in the eyes.

"The Prussians, cousin," began Hans.

"Were first," said Herr Schmelze.

The shoulders of the brave old soldier of Frederick the Great drooped with shame, the fat old farmer coloured.

It was the first time Hans had seen a Prussian soldier turn his back on an enemy, and a tear stole down his cheek.

"Come," said Herr Schmelze, "let us go to the height and look down on the battle. Ulrich," he called to his son, as he passed the house, "stay here and take care of your mother."

Then he led the way to a spot from where they could see the battle. The sight was one never to be forgotten, and as the hours passed the hearts of the two Germans grew sick within them. They saw the Duke of Brunswick borne from the field of dead and wounded, and then began a panic worse than all else we can read of in history. Over the field flew the Prussians, whole companies taking flight as if children. Horses, freed from their riders, dashed where they would, galloping over the dead, crushing with their hoofs the dying; swords flashed against sabres; men fled as if mad; gunners deserted cannon; and still, through all the havoc and confusion, steadily, unswervingly, the cannon of Napoleon roared on. Towards late afternoon the Prussians were turning their backs in all directions, crossing each other's paths, blockading, hampering, as they struggled to escape to Erfurt, to Kolleda, to Sommerda.

The sun dropped in the west, and, as the afterglow rose like a mist of gold, the light fell on a field of such horror as blood-stained old Europe rarely has seen. The cries of the wounded, the dying, the pursued, and the victorious rent the air, and the Prussians who remained were in a confusion most awful. Only the soldiers of the Duke of Weimar fought with steadiness, and, presently, they began to retreat in order towards Erfurt.

The glorious army of Frederick the Great had disappeared like a bubble. Napoleon had but touched it with his finger of might and its many-coloured glory had vanished into nothing.

For hours, old Hans and his cousin watched the fight, and lower and lower sank the head of the old man. That he, a soldier of Frederick the Great, should see the downfall of the army!

"Ach Gott! Ach Gott! Ach Gott!" he said to the cousin.

But Herr Schmelze caught his arm, his face suddenly glowing with excitement.

"Look, cousin, look!" he cried and with a fat hand he pointed towards the field. "Look, I say, look, Hans! What courage! That Prussian is only a boy, and there are four, no, five, six, seven Frenchmen in pursuit. See him run! Bravo! Ach Himmel! Hans, at last, some courage!"

What Hans saw was a Prussian, slender, alert, quite boy-like in figure, fly before pursuing Frenchmen. To save himself he darted sideways, then rushed between two wagons close together and deserted by the Prussians.

Sheltered, he fired.

A Frenchman dropped.

He dodged the answer and fired again.

"Vive l'Empereur!" called the hussars, responding, but the boy, turning suddenly, leaped the wagon to the left; then, as the Frenchmen started to follow, he turned on his heel, dived behind the rear of his barricade and, turning, fled, gaining time as he ran.

"Bravo! Bravo!" called the cousin, and Hans brightened at even this slight show of Prussian courage. With shots pursuing, unharmed, the boy fled on, the French behind, until dusk wrapped in its dimness both pursued and pursuers.

Hans and Herr Schmelze strained their eyes to see the end of the unequal combat, but the battlefield and flying soldiers faded alike in the gloom.

"I must go home," said Herr Schmelze, suddenly remembering his Lotte, "and you, Hans?"

"I'm off to Jena."

The cousin eyed him curiously.

"Hans," he said, "is it wise to leave Annchen alone with the children? The house is lonely and will be in the path of the soldiers, if they should break through the forest."

The old man's mind was full only of the battle.

"Nein, nein, Conrad," he said. "I sent Anna a message by Minna Schneiderwint. She was to take the children and go at once to her husband's father. She is there now, that is certain."

The cousin looked less anxious. He was easy going and usually minded his own affairs.

"So, so," he said, "then she will certainly be safe. You are sure she obeyed? Otherwise——"

Hans nodded with conviction.

"Of course she obeyed; why not? I told Minna to command her."

"Very well, then," and Herr Schmelze started home. "Auf wiedersehen, Hans, and you might bring us the news as you come back from Jena."

"Ja wohl," and the old soldier of Frederick the Great strode away in the gloaming.

Jena was a scene of horror. Its streets were noisy with the yells of drunken soldiers; screaming women were rushing in or out of houses; in the streets lay the dead and dying, and, above the noise, steady, never stopping, roared on the cannon of Napoleon.

About ten at night a sound of drums silenced the screams. With triumphant flags and victorious music, in rode Napoleon, erect on his white horse as ever.

"The scoundrel, the upstart!" said a voice near Hans.

The speaker wore the dress of a professor of the University of Jena, and he stiffened his head as the conqueror approached. "I will not bow to him," he muttered, "I will not."

But Napoleon suddenly gazing at him, the professor hesitated, then, a strange look on his face, bowed as if in spite of himself.

"It is Professor Hegel, the philosopher," said a man near Hans. "He has been writing here in Jena and did not even hear the cannon. A moment ago the postmaster told him the news and he is like one broken-hearted."

But Hans had not time for gossip. Jena men whom he knew were on the road to the field to bring in the wounded and they hailed him.

"Well met, Hans," they cried. "Come! We need men. Come, and help us."

"Ja wohl," and Hans turned and joined them. "I am too old to fight, alas, comrades," he grieved, "but God be thanked, I can do this for the army." And he marched off with the group.

Why not?

Annchen and the children were quite safe with Kasper's father. Anna knew his ways and would not worry. It had been different when he had had Bettina. Her concern had been for the child and not for an old soldier such as he was. Why not, then?

And so he followed to the field where the horses still were racing, the Prussian soldiers fleeing, the thieves prowling to rob the dead and the dying, and where, above the havoc, still roared without ceasing the cannon of Napoleon.

Towards Weimar the sky was crimson, tongues of flame darting up and suddenly lighting the heavens.

There was but one cry: "Vive l'Empereur! Vive Napoleon!" and, as Hans, with the gentleness of a woman, lifted man after man from the ground, he knew that the soldiers of Frederick had had their good-morning, and the country of that famous old soldier lay conquered in the dust.

Two Royal Foes

Подняться наверх