The Great White Army

by Max Pemberton

"Upon my word, you would make an excellent Tartar, mon oncle," says he; and whether that were meant to be a compliment or a reproach upon my shaggy appearance, I did not attempt to discover. The night had come down, and the moments were precious. It was no time for a trifler's argument, and I pushed on in silence.

The forest became more open as we proceeded, and I now perceived that the avenue must be a high road, so orderly were the groves of beeches which bordered it.

From time to time we heard the howling of wolves, and more than one watch-fire denoted the presence of the Russians. The prudence of the step we had taken in assuming the garb of the Cossacks was now justified by the event. We came face to face with a dozen of these barbarians not a mile from the scene of the strife, and they passed us without drawing rein, evidently being set upon a purpose of their own. Léon was much amused by this, and swore that he would swim the Bérézina in the same clothes.

"Chasseurs are out of fashion," said he, "and hussars have become very cheap. I will go to the Tuileries as a Cossack, mon oncle, and Paris will applaud me."

I reminded him that Paris was yet a long way off, and that the dreaded river still lay between us and freedom. Like so many of my fellows who deluded themselves with that belief, I thought that we had but to cross the Bérézina to leave our troubles behind us; nor could I foresee in any way what we must suffer before we reached the bridge at Kovno.

This, however, is to anticipate. Behold us for the moment pressing on through the darkness of the forest, often losing the road because of the blackness of the night, and always alert in the presence of our enemies. That there were Cossacks all about us we knew full well, and when we emerged from the woods at last we perceived a whole regiment of them riding southward at a gallop.

This seemed to say that our own army lay in that direction. Undeterred by the presence of the Cossacks, we kept upon our course, and presently we heard the barking of watchdogs, and espied the lights of a village. A little farther on yet, and the rising moon showed us familiar scenes. There were dead and dying here, the bones of horses and the debris of an army that had passed. I perceived immediately that we had regained the high road, and, pressing on to the village, we came up to a considerable post-house, whose cheerful lights shone out warmly upon the snow, while the windows revealed the uniforms of Frenchmen.

Now, this was a pleasant happening, and it is droll to recall what followed upon it. We had thought to grasp our comrades by the hand, and to change with them the news of yesterday and to-day; but hardly had we knocked at the door of the post-house when as great a panic overtook the men within as any I had witnessed since we quitted Moscow. With a loud cry of "The Cossacks!" our fellow-countrymen bolted headlong by a door at the rear of the building, and when we entered there remained but two or three frightened figures huddled about the stove at the far end of the spacious room.

"Name of a dog," says Léon, "I shall play at the Comédie Française yet."

And there he stood, shaking himself like a bear and laughing still at my appearance and his own.