In the night of the 16th-17th we reached Bergdorff, where we halted until next afternoon. Just before dusk, at the crossing of a stream, we (the van) were attacked by a partisan column, who relieved us of a dozen prisoners, and in exchange left a few dead upon the field. We are looking for more of this sort of warfare until strongly reinforced. We have to contend not only with the Russians and Prussians, but with all the people on our way, who have raised their hands against the French. Evidently, we have made few friends in this country, which—entre nous—to an unbiassed mind does not seem at all strange. Somehow, even when not personally molested, we are continually losing baggage. I carry only my most indispensable effects on my horse. My large trunk, though far behind me now, is in trusty hands, with your address in case anything serious should befall its owner. Frank's baggage is on the general train, while Louis carries all his worldly possessions in his knapsack, which begins to act as a powerful sudorific upon the dear little fellow.
Bremen, 24th March.
This city has not yet risen in open rebellion, though the faces here are sullen enough. General Carra St. Cyr, with two battalions of cohortes and fifteen hundred coast-guards, has succeeded so far in keeping down the popular temper. But Bremerloe, six leagues from here, is occupied by a formidable band of armed rebels, and at this very moment a detachment is being sent out to attend to them. Among the young recruits of St. Cyr's command I found quite a number of Alsatians, some from my own birthplace, Saverne. They are all in the highest of spirits and eager to go ahead. Considering the sacrifice of precious lives our country has made within the last twenty years, the enthusiasm of these boys is truly wonderful.
25th March.
Bremerloe was captured and the enemy routed. None of your sons were at the fray, but while I write my horse is being saddled and all is getting ready for a return march toward the Elbe. Has a victory improved the situation in our rear, or do some of our retreating brethren need our support? We do not know. The order is to march.
Lüneburg, Braunschweig, 1st April, 10 p. m.
Since our departure from Bremen no bed but the open field or the barest floor has rested my limbs until this evening, when, for the first time in a week, I enjoyed the luxury of a change of clothes. How sweet it is to rest after a hard day's work! This town, surrounded by an old-style ditch and wall, was even this forenoon in possession of the enemy. About eighty Cossacks, eight hundred German recruits and the whole male population, armed with muskets, spears and pitch-forks, defended the place for two hours. But as we had sixteen field-guns, and they none fit for use, we defeated them with inconsiderable loss. The greater part of the civilians, fearing severe punishment, fled with the Cossacks. Our gunners poured in the shot and grape until there is scarcely a whole window in the western half of the town. Two of our companies headed the Saxons in the assault over the wall, while the rest pressed in through the battered-down gates. Louis was in the lead, and landed inside without a scratch. Having lost his knapsack in a skirmish on the road, he had no surplus weight to carry. Frank was close behind me in the rush through the Bardowicker gate. Though this day may never be honored with a line in the annals of the great Napoleonic wars, it was quite as hot for a while as any other of greater fame for those immediately concerned. The street-scenes were ghastly, and forcibly reminded me of certain others of saddest memory, when, a boy of only nine years of age, I followed you, my dear parents, over the dead and mangled bodies of citizens and soldiers out of the town of Saverne, disgraced and blood-stained by a revolutionary mob. With this difference, however, that here the dead and wounded were our inveterate foes, while there they wore the features of our most cherished friends and neighbors.
DON COSSACKS AND BASHKIRS.