We stayed at Mayence, and then crossed the Rhine, afterwards passing on foot through the grand-duchy of Frankfort,[11] Franconia, Saxony, Prussia, and Poland. We crossed the Vistula at Marienwerder, entered Pomerania, and on the morning of June 25, a beautiful day (not, as M. de Ségur said, in bad weather), we passed over the Niemen by our pontoons, and entered Lithuania, the first province in Russia.
On the next day we left our first position, and marched until the 29th, without anything noteworthy happening; but during the night of the 29th and 30th we heard a rumbling noise—it was thunder accompanied by a furious wind. Masses of clouds gathered over our heads, and broke. The thunder and the wind lasted for more than two hours, and in a few minutes our fires were put out, our shelter torn away, our piled arms thrown down. We were lost, and did not know which way to turn. I ran to take shelter in the direction of the village where the General was lodged, but I had only the lightning to guide me—suddenly, in one of the flashes, I thought I saw a road (it was unfortunately a canal, swollen by the rain to the level of the ground). Expecting to find solid earth under my feet, I plunged in and sank. On rising to the surface I swam to the other bank, and at last reached the village. I walked into the first house I saw, and entered a room filled by about twenty men, officers, and servants, all asleep. I took possession of a bench placed near a large warm stove, and, undressing, wrung the water out of my shirt and other clothes, huddling myself up on the bench till they were dry; when daylight came, I dressed as well as I could, and left the house to look for my weapons and knapsack, which I found scattered in the mud.
On the 30th, a beautiful sun dried everything, and the same day we reached Wilna, the capital of Lithuania, where the Emperor had arrived the day before, with some of the Guard.
While we were there, I received a letter from my mother, enclosing another addressed to M. Constant, the Emperor's chief valet, who came from Peruwelz[12] in Belgium. This letter was from his mother, an acquaintance of my mother's. I went to the Emperor's lodging to deliver the letter, but only saw Roustan, the Emperor's mameluke, who told me that M. Constant had gone out with His Majesty. He invited me to wait till he returned, but, as I was on duty, I could not do so. I gave him the letter, and decided to come back and see M. Constant another time. But the next day, July 16, we left the town, at ten o'clock in the evening, going towards Borisow, and on the 27th we reached Witebsk, where we encountered Russians. We took up our position on a height above the town. The enemy occupied hills to right and left.
The cavalry, commanded by Murat, had already made several charges. Just as we arrived we saw 200 Voltigeurs of the 9th Regiment, who had ventured too far, met by a portion of the Russian cavalry, which had just been repulsed. Unless help arrived speedily to our men, they were lost, as the river and some deep gullies made access to them very difficult. But they were commanded by gallant officers, who swore, as did also the men, to kill themselves rather than not come honourably out of it. Fighting as they went, they reached a piece of favourable ground. They formed a square, and having been under fire before, their nerves were not shaken by the number of the enemy. They were quite surrounded, however, by a regiment of Lancers and other horse trying in vain to cut through them, and soon they had a rampart of killed and wounded all round them, both of men and horses. This formed another obstacle for the Russians, who, terrified, fled in disorder, amid cries of joy from the whole army.
Our men came back again quietly, as conquerors, every now and then stopping to face the enemy. The Emperor at once sent for the most distinguished, and decorated them with the order of the Legion of Honour. From a height opposite to ours, the Russians had, like us, seen the engagement and flight of their cavalry.
After this brush we made our bivouacs, and directly afterwards I had a visit from twelve young men from my own country (Condé); ten of them were drummers, one a drum-major, and the twelfth was a corporal of Voltigeurs. They all wore side-arms. I told them how much pleasure it gave me to see them, and said I was sorry I had nothing to offer them. The drum-major said:
'Mon pays, we did not come for that, but to beg you to come with us and share what we have, wine, gin, and other things very good for you. We took them yesterday evening from the Russian General. There was a little cart holding his kitchen and everything belonging to it. We have put it all into the canteen cart, with Florencia our cantinière—she is a pretty Spaniard. She might be taken for my wife: I protect her—honourably, I can tell you!' As he said this, he struck the hilt of his long rapier. 'She is a good woman: ask the others—no one dares say anything else. She had a fancy for a sergeant, who was to have married her; but he was murdered by a Spaniard from Bilbao, and until she has chosen someone else she must be taken care of. Well, then, mon pays, it is settled: you—you'll come with us. If there's enough for three, there's enough for four. Come, right about! march!' And we set off towards their army corps, which formed the advance guard.
Well, we got to the camp of the natives of Condé. There were four guests—two dragoons, Mellé, who was from Condé, Flament from Peruwelz, and Grangier, a non-commissioned officer in the same regiment as myself. We sat down near the cantinière's cart. She really was a very pretty Spaniard, and she was overjoyed to see us, as we had just come from her own country, and could speak her language pretty well—the dragoon Flament best of all—so we spent the night in drinking the Russian General's wine and talking of our country.