CHAPTER XIX.
_SENT SCOUTING._
As Szondi had predicted, reveille sounded before day had fairly broken,and an hour after dawn the whole army moved to the ridge of low hillsoutside the town of Waitzen.
Here we halted, and immediately set to work making our position asstrong as possible. The artillery was posted on the hills, earthworkswere hastily thrown up, extra ammunition was served out, and everythingprepared to give the enemy a warm reception.
Most of the work was finished when Goergei's scouts came in with theinformation that the Russian cavalry, supported by an infantry brigade,was approaching.
"They're just come to have a look," said Szondi cheerfully. "They aren'tlikely to attack till their main body arrives."
This was the general opinion, and we could hardly believe our senseswhen the Russians were seen preparing for an assault. I suppose it wasa very gallant action, but it certainly had not the slightest chance ofsuccess from the beginning.
On our side the battle was fought by the artillery, and the bravestcannot stand before a cannon-ball.
Again and again the Russians charged desperately, only to be hurled backin utter confusion; and at length their leader admitted his mistake bydrawing his men off altogether.
"So far, so good," remarked Rakoczy, with whom I spent half an hour thatevening, "but we mustn't expect to win so easily to-morrow."
"I thought we should probably slip away during the night."
"That's possible, of course; but I fancy Goergei intends trying to holdthe town. However, we shall see before long."
The Russians had been so badly beaten that they made no further effortto molest us, and the night passed away peacefully.
Nor did they renew the struggle in the early morning, but waited for thearrival of the main body, which had made a forced march of eight Germanor forty English miles in twelve hours.
"They make a fine show," exclaimed Szondi, as we stood on a hill withthe general, watching the heads of the columns as they approached.
"They make stubborn fighters," growled Mizvy.
"Just like dogs," added another fellow: "as long as you whistle them on,they'll go."
These Muscovites were indeed wonderful soldiers, and far different fromour own men.
The Magyars were full of fire and dash. They rushed to death with acheer and a shout, or to the rattle of a song. When the warning blastrang out, their faces flushed, their eyes burned with a fiery glow, thehot blood sped more swiftly through their veins--they were real livehuman beings.
On the other hand, it seemed to us, as we gazed from the hill, thatthere were no individual Russians--only companies, or regiments, orbrigades.
It was a weird sight to witness one of these regiments, compact andgrey-coated, come gliding up towards the guns.
As Szondi put it, one forgot the men in watching the movements of themachine.
It advanced silently, steadily, and in one piece; it--not they--movedfaster; suddenly a curious shiver passed through it, a curtain of smokewas spread over it, and presently you saw the one piece, only very muchsmaller, moving back again, leaving bits of grey lying here and there,as if chipped from the mass.
Farther along, another machine, similarly constructed, was going throughexactly the same performance, becoming smaller in the same manner.
One such I saw more distinctly still, having carried a message from thegeneral to the artillery chief just as it approached.
The fate of that regiment was so terrible that even now I sometimesshudder at the remembrance.
Like the others, it came on regularly and without noise. The great gunsat my feet roared out as if in fright; the smoke cleared away, showingthe grey mass diminished in size, but nearer; the guns cried out again,the smoke-cloud settled and lifted, discovering the grey mass very muchsmaller, but still moving nearer, until at length it reached the verymuzzles of the guns, and then--well, then it simply vanished!
Some parts of it doubtless returned in safety, though to me, watchingfrom behind the cannon, it seemed as if the whole body had been sweptaway.
Yet, although the Russians lost men so terribly, it was plain that inthe end they would be able to oust us from our position, and our chiefbegan to make arrangements for the retreat. Owing to this, I saw littlemore of the battle, having been sent into Waitzen by the general.
Here, while our comrades held the Muscovites back, we were sending offthe sick and wounded, provisions, ammunition, and the troops that couldbe spared from the fighting.
From time to time we heard news of the combat, which grew fiercer withevery hour; yet, in spite of the most furious assaults, the Magyarsstood their ground.
"The men must hold the field till dark," was the order passed round tothe different leaders; and Goergei knew that, whatever happened, itwould be obeyed.
During the early part of the afternoon the noise of the battle diedaway, but the lull was only for a time. The uproar began again,increased in volume, and came so near to us in the town that we thoughtthe enemy had carried the defences.
They had indeed got to hand-to-hand fighting, being repulsed only aftera desperate encounter.
How our poor fellows out there on the ridges must have prayed for thecoming of night!
Meanwhile, carts and wagons were rolling through the town and away intothe mountainous country beyond.
Once riding out with some special message to the general, I found himstanding with his arms behind his back and his head bent forward,surveying the fight.
The bullets were dropping around, but of these he took no notice, thoughtwo of the staff had already been seriously hurt.
"Lucky fellow!" remarked Szondi, as I repassed him on my way back."You're well out of it;" and, seeing how the general was exposinghimself, I thought so too.
I could not see the 9th Honveds--they were somewhere on the left--but Iearnestly hoped my two friends were safe.
Once more the fury of the battle lessened. It was growing dusk, andeven had the light lasted, neither side could have fought much longer.
The Russians naturally were the more fatigued, but when the last shotwas fired many of our own fellows sank down exhausted.
Yet the general could grant them but small time for rest.
Many, indeed, tired and hungry as they were, marched straight off theground. All the night through, the streets of Waitzen echoed to thetramp of infantry, the rumbling of baggage-wagons, the clatter ofhorses' feet, and the roll of artillery.
Hour after hour, while the Muscovites lay wrapped in peaceful slumber,the sad procession filed through the town, and daylight revealed to theastonished enemy only an abandoned camp.
It was night before I learned anything of Rakoczy; and then, to my greatjoy, I discovered that both he and Dobozy were unhurt.
Our position had now become practically hopeless.
The allies had joined hands in the centre of the country, while ourarmies were scattered in all directions, and completely out of touch onewith the other.
Bern still battled hard in Transylvania; Dembinski was on the borders ofCroatia; while we, trudging through the lower spurs of the Carpathians,were separated from both by over 100,000 veterans.
Rakoczy and a few of his stamp still put on a brave show, talkedcheerily to their men, and prophesied that Dembinski was about to dogreat things; but most of the officers privately admitted that our finaldefeat was certain.
Goergei himself shared this view, though it did not prevent him fromdoing all in his power to avert the calamity.
"We're bound to draw the Russians after us," he said cheerfully, "andthat will take them from Dembinski's shoulders. If only we can outmarchthe Russians and join the Pole anywhere near Debreczin, there may stillbe a chance."
But could we?
That was a question time alone could answer.
One corps was toiling hard after us through the mountains, but what wasPaskewitch doing with the rest of his arm
y?
One morning, about the fifth day of the retreat, the general suddenlytold me to go and find where the Russian chief was, and what he wasdoing.
"The reports of the scouts are very unsatisfactory," he said. "I can'tmake head or tail of them. Just find out all you can for yourself, andcatch me up at Miskolcz."
Taking Mecsey Sandor with me, as he knew the country much better than Idid, I started immediately, being in a short time out of sight and soundof the retreating army.
Knowing that Paskewitch had stopped his southward march, we concluded hewould try to prevent Goergei crossing the Theiss.
My best course evidently was to ride due south, questioning the countrypeople as I passed.
"We shall learn something at Gyongyos," said Mecsey, "and we ought toreach there by nightfall."
It was a dreary and disheartening journey. Of men we saw hardly a sign;only women and children remained in the little villages, or worked hardin the fields to save the ripening crops from destruction.
These poor people could tell me nothing of the enemy. They only knewthat their own men-folk were far away fighting for the land of theirbirth, or haply already lying at peace beneath the sod.
Evening fell before we reached Gyongyos, but I resolved to push on inthe gathering darkness, although Mecsey very much doubted if we couldfind the way.
At the village of Kis-Palaty we learned that the Russians were in theneighbourhood, but whether they constituted an army or only a scoutingparty it was hard to tell.
Here, as elsewhere, the population consisted of women and children, anda few old men who shook their heads sadly, and mumbled words that had nomeaning.
After a long talk with the most intelligent of the women, I came to theconclusion that the enemy were simply a cavalry detachment out scouting.Then came the question what was best to be done.
It seemed equally dangerous to go or stay, and I was still turning thequestion over in my mind when a man on a splendid horse galloped up tothe inn door.
His speech told me he was a Magyar, and by his dress I judged him to bea servant in some nobleman's family.
At first he glanced at us suspiciously; but, discovering I was anofficer in Goergei's army, he became very friendly, and answered myquestions readily enough.
"You cannot venture into Gyongyos," he said. "The town is filled withRussians. The general is there with his principal officers, but I hearthey start for Kapolna in the morning."
"Will they come this way?"
The Magyar shook his head. "No," he replied; "I wish they would. Itwould keep them clear of my master's estate."
"Is your master with our army?"
"Alas, no! My sweet master is a cripple, paralyzed. He never leaves thehouse. But why not ride there with me? The count, my master, is agreat patriot, and will make you welcome."
"But it might lead him into trouble."
"Not at all. The Russians are not likely to pay us a visit. If theydo, we can easily hide you."
"And Paskewitch will march that way?"
"The Russian general? Yes; the highroad passes the edge of thepine-wood. You had better come. The count thinks a great deal ofGeneral Goergei, and will be delighted to see one of his officers."
"You have not told me who your master is."
"Count Arnim Kemeny."
"Well, Mecsey," I said, "what do you think? Shall we be likely to runthe count into any danger?"
"How? The Russians will be gone to-morrow."
"Then if you will ride on," I said to the servant, "we will follow."
"In one minute. I have a little business to transact first," and makinga respectful bow, he went into the house.
"All right, Mecsey?" I asked.
My servant tapped his pistol significantly. "I'm sorry for our friendif it isn't," he answered.
When the count's man came out again it was quite dark, and we had somedifficulty in following him over the execrable roads. It was even worsewhen, leaving the highway, he struck across country; but after a coupleof hours' hard riding we arrived at his master's residence.
We rode into the courtyard amidst the barking of numerous dogs; but theservant silenced them, and several men came running quickly to takecharge of our horses.
Then our guide led the way to the front of the house, and ushered usinto a small room which served as an ante-chamber.
"I go to inform my mistress," he said, and in two or three minutes thereentered the room one of the loveliest women in Hungary. She was abrunette, with a complexion so clear that the warm blood could be seenbeneath the delicate skin. Her hair was beautifully wavy, her eyes werelarge and shaded with long, silky lashes, her lips red as a rose, herteeth glistened like pearls.
She greeted me with ease and graciousness, and I knew in a moment thatthe welcome was a genuine one.
"I must apologize for my husband," she said sweetly. "He is, alas! aninvalid, and I must welcome the guests of the house."
"It is I who should apologize for thus intruding," I replied, "but thatI see it will not be necessary. I am George Botskay, a captain in thearmy commanded by General Goergei. This is my servant, and we are inthe neighbourhood on special duty."
"Exactly," said my hostess, "and you must be in need of refreshment.Supper is almost ready, and meanwhile you would like to go to yourroom."
Mecsey was now handed over to the care of our guide, and a servantconducted me to a bedroom, where I was able to make myself morepresentable.
The house was a one-storied building, very similar to my own atGyula--built on much the same plan, but rather more extensive.
After I had washed and dressed, a servant showed me to thedining-room--a fine, spacious apartment, the walls of which were hungwith pictures painted by Hungarian artists.
As before, the countess stepped forward, smiling, and led me to herhusband.
"Arnim dear," said she sweetly, "this is Captain Botskay, whom a luckychance has sent us as a guest."
While she spoke, I gazed with the deepest emotion at the count.
He partly sat, partly reclined in a wheeled chair drawn close to thetable.
He was a wonderfully handsome and athletic-looking man, with a massive,well-shaped head firmly set on broad, sturdy shoulders. His face wasfrank and open, his eyes smiled, though with a suggestion of sadness,his mouth was firm, his chin square and determined.
I pictured him charging at the head of a squadron of horse, and thoughtwhat a magnificent cavalry leader he would make. As it happened, thepoor fellow could not cross the room, could not put foot to the ground,could not move a single muscle of his legs; from the waist downwards hewas practically dead. Yet he made no moan, no complaint, but once, andthen it was to regret that his infirmity prevented him from joiningGoergei.
"Forgive my apparent lack of courtesy, Captain Botskay," said he; "but Iam somewhat of an invalid, and my wife kindly does the honours of thehouse in my stead."
"I shall not readily forget madam's kindness," I replied.
"Nay," answered the countess, "it is we who are your debtors, since youwill be able to tell my husband the truth about the war; but first wewill have supper," and she rang the bell.
I was certainly very hungry, and did ample justice to the good thingsplaced before me, while the pleasure was heightened by the appearance ofthe table with its cloth of snowy whiteness, beautifully-cut glasses,nicely-chased silver, and tastefully-arranged flowers.
This was unusual experience for a soldier in Goergei's army while onactive service.
It was delightful also to watch how fondly my hostess waited on hercrippled husband, how swift she was to anticipate his wants, howlovingly she performed every little service--every action showing howthoroughly the invalid was centered in her heart.
Then, when we rose from the table, it was her hand that guided his chairinto the drawing-room; her pretty fingers that made him comfortable; hereyes that looked lovingly into his, questioning if there was aught elsethat could be done for him.
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bsp; On his part, the count worshipped this beautiful woman who thought onlyof him. His eyes followed her everywhere; and when, drawing forward acosy chair, she sat down beside him, his face lit up with a smile ofsweet content.
Of course I was pleased to find the count was of my way of thinking, andhad no sympathy with the republican party.
He listened with the greatest interest to the story of the campaign, andasked several questions which showed he was not ignorant of militarymatters.
"Goergei has made a wonderful fight of it," he remarked; "but, in myopinion, he can do very little more. This Field-Marshal Paskewitch is aclever general, and, from what I hear, he has an overwhelming number ofmen."
"That is what I wish to find out. Your man tells me they will be enroute again to-morrow."
"Nicholas is generally right, and in that case you will have a finechance of obtaining your information with little risk. A quarter of amile away the wood stretches right down to the main road. The trees areclose together, and just now, of course, are in full leaf. One inparticular, which we generally speak of as the Eagle's Nest, wouldafford you fine shelter, and from it you could see everything whichpassed. It will be a tedious affair, but--"
"Oh, that's nothing!" I exclaimed quickly. "The only thing I'm afraidof is a chance visit of the enemy to you. My horse would tell tales, andthere is my man to be considered."
The count looked at his wife and smiled.
"Do not fear for us," said she. "We have hiding-places here that wouldnot be discovered even if they burned the house down."
"The trappings of the horses can be put in one of these," added thecount, "and in case of danger we can put your servant there as well."
"But if they find me in the Eagle's Nest?"
"They will shoot you and ask no questions, so I hope you'll not bediscovered."
After a little further conversation it was arranged that my host'sservant should call me at daybreak, and take me to the Eagle's Nestbefore the Russians began their march.
Mecsey was to remain at the house, as he could not be of any use in thetree, and might possibly do harm by attracting attention.
Having settled this matter, we sat chatting another hour, when my hostsaid pleasantly, "Captain, I am going to play the commanding officer andorder you to bed. As it is, you will have a short rest, while there isa heavy day's work in front of you. Of course, if I considered myselfonly, I should wish the pleasure of your company half the night."
"It's very kind of you," I answered, "and really I would rather sit hereand talk, but I might feel drowsy to-morrow."
"And we do not wish you to fall out of the Eagle's Nest," said myhostess merrily.
"I fear the general would obtain little information from me afterwards."
Bidding them good-night, I went to my room, and once more enjoyed theluxury of lying down in a real bed.
As the count had observed, there was not much time for sleep, and aportion of that I wasted thinking of my host's terrible affliction andhis wife's goodness.
Then, too, I wondered how the next day's adventure would turn out, andwhether Goergei had been forced to stand at bay again.
At length my brain ceased working, and I fell into a sound sleep.