The smith came. He had taken off his leather apron and put on a little blue blouse, and we saw at once that he had five or six men with him. They were the mayor and his assistant, and the municipal councillors of the place.
They sat down on the benches opposite, and ordered the favorite sour beer of the country for us to drink. Buche asked for some bread; the innkeeper's wife brought us a whole loaf and a large piece of beef in a porringer.
All urged us to "Eat, eat!" When one or another would ask us a question about the battle, the smith or the mayor would say:
"Let the men finish, you can see plainly that they have come a long way."
And it was only when we had finished eating, that they questioned us, asking if it was true that the French had lost a great battle. The first report was that we were the victors, but afterward they heard a rumor that we were defeated.
We understood that they were speaking of Ligny, and that their ideas were confused. I was ashamed to tell that we were overthrown; I looked at Buche, and he said:
"We have been betrayed. The traitors revealed our plans. The army was full of traitors, who cried, 'Sauve qui peut!' How was it possible for us not to lose, under such circumstances?"
It was the first time I had heard treason spoken of; some of the wounded, it is true, had said, "We are betrayed," but I had paid no attention to their words, and when Buche relieved us from our embarrassment by this means, I was glad of it, though I was astonished.
The people sympathized with us in our indignation against the traitors.
Then we were obliged to explain the battle and the treason. Buche said the Prussians had fallen upon us through the treason of Marshal Grouchy.