At that I told her that she was a cheat, and that she should have no more. She passed her hand over my face, and answered: 'Poor little Frenchman! Six months ago that was all very well—you were the stronger; but to-day things are different. You are going to give me what I ask, or I will keep my husband from putting the horse into the sledge, and have you taken by the Cossacks!' For reply, I told her that I snapped my fingers at the Cossacks and at the Prussians. 'Oh yes,' she answered; 'but you wouldn't say so if you knew they were close at hand.' On this, seeing the whole wickedness of the woman, I caught her by the neck to strangle her, but she was the stronger; she threw me down upon the straw, and tried, in her turn, to strangle me. Luckily, a kick behind from one of my comrades made her get up. Just then the husband came in; but he received a great blow from his dear wife's fist. She was like a fury, telling him he was no more than a great coward, and that if he did not instantly go and fetch the neighbours and the Cossacks she would tear his eyes out. As we were five against two, we prevented them leaving the house, and forced them to harness the horse to the sledge. But we had to give what this female scoundrel demanded; there was no time for bargaining, the Cossacks being close by. Before leaving, I told this she-devil that, should I come back, I would make her return the money we had given her, with interest. She replied to this by spitting in my face. I wanted to strike her with the butt-end of my musket, but my comrades kept me back.
We mounted the sledge to get away as quickly as possible.
This day, December 19th, we were to sleep at Insterbourg, where we arrived by nightfall. We were quartered with some worthy people.
The next day, the 20th, fell on a Sunday. We left at daylight, in order to sleep at Eylau. There we repaired at once to the town-hall, and without any difficulty obtained our billets. We were with good people again; we found a fire in the room, and each of us was offered a glass of gin. Afterwards our hostess went in search of our rations, taking our billet with her, for the inhabitants had just received orders to supply us with provisions.
When we were warmed and had rested a little, we made up our minds, while waiting for our soup, to pay a visit to the field of battle. We walked over most of it, and saw several simple wooden crosses. We noticed one in particular, with this inscription:
'Here rest twenty-nine officers of the brave 14th (line regiment), who died on the field of honour.'[70]
After making some notes on the placing of the troops the day of this terrible battle, we entered the town, which appeared to us deserted.
It was Sunday, and on account of the season the inhabitants were shut up in their houses, and we were the only Frenchmen about, the others having taken another direction.
Returning to our lodging, we stretched ourselves out on the straw while waiting for our meal.
Hardly were we settled down, when a Prussian veteran entered to warn us that Cossacks had been seen on a hill about a quarter of a league from the town, and that he advised us to be off as quickly as possible. As it was only too true, we made hasty preparations for departure. Our meat, barely half cooked, we packed up in straw.