CHAPTER LII. KOMORN FORTY TEARS AGO
I doubt if our great Emperor dated his first despatch from Schoenbrunnwith a prouder sense of elevation than did I write 'Komorn' at thetop of my first letter to Marshal Marmont, detailing, as I had beendirected, every incident of my reception. I will not pretend to saythat my communication might be regarded as a model for diplomaticcorrespondence; but, having since that period seen something of thelucubrations of great envoys and plenipos, I am only astonished at myunconscious imitation of their style--blending, as I did, the objects ofmy mission with every little personal incident, and making each trivialcircumstance bear upon the fortune of my embassy.
I narrated my morning interview with Prince Metternich, whose courteousbut haughty politeness was not a whit shaken by the calamitous positionof his country, and who wished to treat the great events of the campaignas among the transient reverses which war deals out, on this sideto-day, on that to-morrow. I told that my confidence in the impregnablecharacter of Kuffstein only raised a smile, for it had already beensurrendered to the Tyrolese; and I summed up my political conjecturesby suggesting that there was enough of calm confidence in the Minister'smanner to induce me to suspect that they were calculating on the supportof the northern powers, and had not given up the cause for lost. I knewfor certain that a Russian courier had arrived and departed since myown coming; and although the greatest secrecy had attended the event,I ascertained the fact, that he had come from St. Petersburg, and wasreturning to Moscow, where the Emperor Alexander then was. Perhaps I wasa little piqued--I am afraid I was--at the indifference manifested at myown presence, and the little, or indeed no, importance, attached to myprolonged stay. For when I informed Count Stadion that I should awaitsome tidings from Vienna before returning thither, he very politelyexpressed his pleasure at the prospect of my company, and proposed thatwe should have some partridge-shooting, for which the country along theDanube is famous. The younger brother of this Minister, Count ErnestStadion, and a young Hungarian magnate, Palakzi, were my constantcompanions. They were both about my own age, but had only joined thearmy that same spring, and were most devoted admirers of one who hadalready won his epaulettes as a colonel in the French service. Theyshowed me every object of interest and curiosity in the neighbourhood,arranged parties for riding and shooting, and, in fact, treated me inall respects like a much-valaed guest--well repaid, as it seemed, bythose stories of war and battlefields which my own life and memorysupplied.
My improved health was already noticed by all, when Metternich sent mea most polite message, stating, that if my services at Vienna couldbe dispensed with for a while longer, it was hoped I would continueto reside where I had derived such benefit, and breathe the cheeringbreezes of Hungary for the remainder of the autumn.
It was full eight-and-twenty years later that I accidentally learned towhat curious circumstance I owed this invitation. It chanced that theyoung archduchess, who was ill during the siege, was lingering in a slowconvalescence, and to amuse the tedious hours of her sick couch, MadamePalakzi, the mother of my young friend, was accustomed to recount someof the stories which I, in the course of the morning, happened to relateto her son. So guardedly was all this contrived and carried on, that itwas not, as I have said, for nearly thirty years after that I knew ofit; and then, the secret was told me by the chief personage herself, theGrand-Duchess of Parma.
Though nothing could better have chimed in with my plans than thisrequest, yet, in reality, the secret object of my mission appearedjust as remote as on the first day of my arrival. My acquaintances werelimited to some half-dozen gentlemen-in-waiting, and about an equalnumber of young officers of the staff, with whom I dined, rode, hunted,and shot--never seeing a single member of the Imperial family, nor,stranger still, one lady of the household. In what Turkish seclusionthey lived! when they ventured out for air and exercise, and where, werequestions that never ceased to torture me. It was true that all my ownexcursions had been on the left bank of the river, towards which sidethe apartment I occupied looked; but I could scarcely suppose that theright presented much attraction, since it appeared to be an impenetrableforest of oak; moreover, the bridge which formerly connected it with theisland of Komorn had been cut off during the war. Of course, this wasa theme on which I could not dare to touch; and as the reserve of mycompanions was never broken regarding it, I was obliged to be satisfiedwith my own guesses on the subject. I had been about two months atKomorn when I was invited to join a shooting-party on the north bank ofthe river at a place called Ercacs, or, as the Hungarians pronounceit, Ercacsh, celebrated for the blackcock, or the auerhahn, one of thefinest birds of the east of Europe. All my companions had been promisingme great things, when the season for the sport should begin, and I wasequally anxious to display my skill as a marksman. The scenery, too,was represented as surpassingly fine, and I looked forward to theexpedition, which was to occupy a week, with much interest. Onecircumstance alone damped the ardour of my enjoyment: for some time backexercise on horseback had become painful to me, and some of those evilconsequences which my doctor had speculated on, such as exfoliation ofthe bone, seemed now threatening me. Up to this the inconvenience hadgone no further than an occasional sharp pang after a hard day's ride,or a dull uneasy feeling which prevented my sleeping soundly at night.I hoped, however, by time, that these would subside, and the naturalstrength of my constitution carry me safely over every mischance. I wasashamed to speak of these symptoms to my companions, lest they shouldimagine that I was only screening myself from the fatigues of which theyso freely partook; and so I continued, day after day, the same habit ofsevere exercise; while feverish nights, and a failing appetite, made mehourly weaker. My spirits never flagged, and perhaps in this way damagedme seriously, supplying a false energy long after real strength hadbegun to give way. The world, indeed, 'went so well' with me in allother respects, that I felt it would have been the blackest ingratitudeagainst Fortune to have given way to anything like discontent orrepining. It was true, I was far from being a solitary instance of acolonel at my age; there were several such in the army, and one or twoeven younger; but they were unexceptionably men of family influence,descendants of the ancient nobility of France, for whose chivalric namesand titles the Emperor had conceived the greatest respect; and never, inall the pomp of Louis the Fourteenth's Court, were a Gramont, a Guise, aRochefoucauld, or a Tavanne more certain of his favourable notice. Now,I was utterly devoid of all such pretensions; my claims to gentle blood,such as they were, derived from another land, and I might even regardmyself as the maker of my own fortune.
How little thought did I bestow on my wound, as I mounted my horse onthat mellow day of autumn! How indifferent was I to the pang that shotthrough me as I touched the flank with my leg! Our road led through athick forest, but over a surface of level sward, along which we gallopedin all the buoyancy of youth and high spirits. An occasional trunk layacross our way, and these we cleared at a leap--a feat which I wellsaw my Hungarian friends were somewhat surprised to perceive gave meno trouble whatever. My old habits of the riding-school had made me aperfect horseman; and rather vain of my accomplishment I rode at thehighest fences I could find. In one of these exploits an acute pang shotthrough me, and I felt as if something had given way in my leg. The painfor some minutes was so intense that I could with difficulty keep thesaddle, and even when it had partially subsided the suffering was verygreat.
To continue my journey in this agony was impossible; and yet I wasreluctant to confess that I was overcome by pain. Such an acknowledgmentseemed unsoldierlike and unworthy, and I determined not to give way. Itwas no use; the suffering brought on a sickly faintness that completelyovercame me. I had nothing for it but to turn back; so, suddenlyaffecting to recollect a despatch that I ought to have sent off beforeI left, I hastily apologised to my companions, and with many promises toovertake them by evening, I returned to Komorn.
A Magyar groom accompanied me to act as my guide; and, attended by thisman, I slowly retraced my step
s towards the fortress, so slowly, indeed,that it was within an hour of sunset as we gained the crest of thelittle ridge, from which Komorn might be seen, and the course of theDanube as it wound for miles through the plain.
It is always a grand and imposing scene, one of those vast Hungarianplains, with waving woods and golden cornfields, bounded by the horizonon every side, and marked by those immense villages of twelve or eventwenty thousand inhabitants. Trees, rivers, plains, even the dwellingsof the people, are on a scale with which nothing in the Old World canvie. But even with this great landscape before me, I was more struck bya small object which caught my eye as I looked towards the fortress. Itwas a little boat, covered with an awning, and anchored in the middle ofthe stream, and from which I could hear the sound of a voice, singing tothe accompaniment of a guitar. There was a stern and solemn quietude inthe scene; the dark fortress, the darker river, the deep woods castingtheir shadows on the water, all presented a strange contrast to thatgirlish voice and tinkling melody, so light-hearted and so free.
The Magyar seemed to read what was passing in my mind, for he noddedsignificantly, and touching his cap in token of respect, said it wasthe young Archduchess Maria Louisa, who, with one or two of her ladies,enjoyed the cool of the evening on the river. This was the very sameprincess for whose likeness I was so eager, and of whom I never couldobtain the slightest tidings. With what an interest that barque becameinvested from that moment! I had more than suspected, I had divined,the reasons of General Marmont's commission to me, and could picture tomyself the great destiny that in all likelihood awaited her who now,in sickly dalliance, moved her hand in the stream, and scattered thesparkling drops in merry mood over her companions. Twice or thrice ahead of light-brown hair peeped from beneath the folds of the awning,and I wondered within myself if it were on that same brow that thegreatest diadem of Europe was to sit.
So intent was I on these fancies, so full of the thousand speculationsthat grew out of them, that I paid no attention to what was passing,and never noticed an object on which the Hungarian's eyes were bent inearnest contemplation. A quick gesture and a sudden exclamation from theman soon attracted me, and I beheld, about a quarter of a mile off, anenormous timber raft descending the stream at headlong speed. Thatthe great mass had become unmanageable, and was carried along by theimpetuosity of the current, was plain enough, not only from the zigzagcourse it took, but from the wild cries and frantic gestures of the menon board. Though visible to us from the eminence on which we stood, abend of the stream still concealed it from those in the boat. To apprisethem of their danger, we shouted with all our might, gesticulating atthe same time, and motioning to them to put in to shore. It was all invain; the roar of the river, which here is almost a torrent, drowned ourvoices, and the little boat still held her place in the middle of thestream. Already the huge mass was to be seen emerging from behind awooden promontory of the riverside, and now their destruction seemedinevitable. Without waiting to reach the path, I spurred my horse downthe steep descent, and, half falling and half plunging, gained the bank.To all seeming now they heard me, for I saw the curtain of the awningsuddenly move, and a boatman's red cap peer from beneath it. I screamedand shouted with all my might, and called out 'The raft--the raft!' tillmy throat felt bursting. For some seconds the progress of the great massseemed delayed, probably by having become entangled with the trees alongthe shore; but now, borne along by its immense weight, it swung roundthe angle of the bank, and came majestically on, a long, white wavemarking its course as it breasted the water.
They see it! they see it! Oh, good heavens! are they paralysed withterror, for the boatman never moves! A wild shriek rises above theroar of the current, and yet they do nothing. What prayers and cries ofentreaty, what wild imprecations I uttered, I know not; but I am surethat reason had already left me, and nothing remained in its placeexcept the mad impulse to save them, or perish. There was then so muchof calculation in my mind that I could balance the chances of breastingthe stream on horseback, or alone; and this done, I spurred my animalover the bank into the Danube. A horse is a noble swimmer when he hascourage, and a Hungarian horse rarely fails in this quality.
Heading towards the opposite shore, the gallant beast cleared his trackthrough the strong current, snorting madly, and seeming to plunge attimes against the rushing waters. I never turned my eyes from the skiffall this time, and now could see the reason of what had seemed theirapathy. The anchor had become entangled, fouled among some rocks orweeds of the river, and the boatman's efforts to lift it were all invain. I screamed and yelled to the man to cut the rope, but my crieswere unheard, for he bent over the gunwale, and tugged and tore with allhis might. I was more than fifty yards higher up the stream, and rapidlygaining the calmer water under shore, when I tried to turn my horse'shead down the current; but the instinct of safety rebelled against allcontrol, and the animal made straight for the bank. There was, then,but one chance left, and, taking my sabre in my mouth, I sprang from hisback into the stream. In all the terrible excitement of that dreadfulmoment I clung to one firm purpose. The current would surely carry theboat into safety, if once free; I had no room for any thought butthis. The great trees along shore, the great fortress, the very cloudsoverhead, seemed to fly past me, as I was swept along; but I never lostsight of my purpose. And now almost within my grasp, I see the boatand the three figures, who are bending down over one that seems to havefainted. With my last effort, I cry again to cut the rope, but his knifehas broken at the handle! I touch the side of the skiff, I grasp thegunwale with one hand, and seizing my sabre in the other, I make onedesperate cut. The boat swings round to the current--the boatman's oarsare out--they are saved. My 'thank God!' is like the cry of a drowningman--for I know no more.