At such a time it was in vain for me to ask in what direction the staff might be found. All were eager and intent on their own projects; and as squadron after squadron passed, I saw it was a moment for action rather than for thought. Still I did not like to abandon all hope of succeeding after so much of peril and fatigue, and seeing that it was impossible to advance against the flood of horse and artillery that formed along the road, I jumped my horse into a field at the side, and pushed forward. Even here, however, the passage was not quite clear, since many, in their eagerness to get forward, had taken to the same line, and, with cheering cries and wild shouts of joy, were galloping on. My showy uniform drew many an eye towards me, and at last a staff-officer cried out to me to stop, pointing with his sabre as he spoke to a hill a short distance off, where a group of officers were standing.
This was General Moulon and his staff, under whose order the advanced guard was placed.
‘A despatch—whence from?’ cried he hastily, as I rode up.
‘No, sir; a plan of the bridge of Landshut, taken from the enemy this morning at Moosburg.’
‘Are they still there?’ asked he.
‘By this time they must be close upon Landshut; they were in full retreat when I left them at daybreak.’
‘We ‘ll be able to speak of the bridge without this,’ said he, laughing, and turning toward his staff, while he handed the sketch carelessly to some one beside him; ‘and you’ll serve the Emperor quite as well, sir, by coming with us as hastening to the rear.’
I professed myself ready and willing to follow his orders, and away I went with the staff, well pleased to be once more on active service.
Two cannon shots, and a rattling crash of small-arms, told us that the combat had begun; and as we ascended the hill, the bridge of Landshut was seen on fire in three places. Either from some mistake of his orders, or not daring to assume a responsibility for what was beyond the strict line of duty, the French commander of the artillery placed his guns in position along the river’s bank, and prepared to reply to the fire now opening from the town, instead of at once dashing onward within the gates. Moulon hastened to repair the error; but by the delay in pushing through the dense masses of horse, foot, and artillery that crowded the passage, it was full twenty minutes ere he came up. With a storm of oaths on the stupidity of the artillery colonel, he ordered the firing to cease, commanding both the cavalry and the train waggons to move right and left, and give place for a grenadier battalion, who were coming briskly on with their muskets at the sling.
The scene was now a madly exciting one. The chevaux défrise at one end of the bridge was blazing; but beyond it, on the bridge, the Austrian engineer and his men were scattering combustible material, and with hempen torches touching the new-pitched timbers. An incessant roll of musketry issued from the houses on the river-side, with now and then the deeper boom of a large gun, while the roar of voices, and the crashing noise of artillery passing through the streets, swelled into a fearful chorus. The French sappers quickly removed the burning chevaux de frise, and hurled the flaming timbers into the stream; and scarcely was this done, when Moulon, dismounting, advanced, cheering, at the head of his grenadiers. Charging over the burning bridge, they rushed forward; but their way was arrested by the strong timbers of a massive portcullis, which closed the passage. This had been concealed from our view by the smoke and flame; and now, as the press of men from behind grew each instant more powerful, a scene of terrible suffering ensued. The enemy, too, poured down a deadly discharge, and grapeshot tore through us at pistol-range. The onward rush of the columns to the rear defied retreat, and in the mad confusion, all orders and command were unheard or unheeded. Not knowing what delayed our advance, I was busily engaged in suppressing a fire at one of the middle buttresses, when, mounting the parapet, I saw the cause of our halt. I happened to have caught up one of the pitched torches at the instant, and the thought at once struck me how to employ it. To reach the portcullis, no other road lay open than the parapet itself—a wooden railing, wide enough for a footing, but exposed to the whole fire of the houses. There was little time for the choice of alternatives, even had our fate offered any, so I dashed on, and, as the balls whizzed and whistled around me, reached the front.