The Red, White, and Green Part 52

Nor did they renew the struggle in the early morning, but waited for the arrival of the main body, which had made a forced march of eight German or forty English miles in twelve hours.

"They make a fine show," exclaimed Szondi, as we stood on a hill with the 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 from our own men.

The Magyars were full of fire and dash. They rushed to death with a cheer and a shout, or to the rattle of a song. When the warning blast rang out, their faces flushed, their eyes burned with a fiery glow, the hot blood sped more swiftly through their veins--they were real live human beings.

On the other hand, it seemed to us, as we gazed from the hill, that there were no individual Russians--only companies, or regiments, or brigades.

It was a weird sight to witness one of these regiments, compact and grey-coated, come gliding up towards the guns.

As Szondi put it, one forgot the men in watching the movements of the machine.

It advanced silently, steadily, and in one piece; it--not they--moved faster; suddenly a curious s.h.i.+ver pa.s.sed through it, a curtain of smoke was spread over it, and presently you saw the one piece, only very much smaller, moving back again, leaving bits of grey lying here and there, as if chipped from the ma.s.s.

Farther along, another machine, similarly constructed, was going through exactly the same performance, becoming smaller in the same manner.

One such I saw more distinctly still, having carried a message from the general to the artillery chief just as it approached.

The fate of that regiment was so terrible that even now I sometimes shudder at the remembrance.

Like the others, it came on regularly and without noise. The great guns at my feet roared out as if in fright; the smoke cleared away, showing the grey ma.s.s diminished in size, but nearer; the guns cried out again, the smoke-cloud settled and lifted, discovering the grey ma.s.s very much smaller, but still moving nearer, until at length it reached the very muzzles of the guns, and then--well, then it simply vanished!

Some parts of it doubtless returned in safety, though to me, watching from behind the cannon, it seemed as if the whole body had been swept away.

Yet, although the Russians lost men so terribly, it was plain that in the end they would be able to oust us from our position, and our chief began to make arrangements for the retreat. Owing to this, I saw little more of the battle, having been sent into Waitzen by the general.

Here, while our comrades held the Muscovites back, we were sending off the sick and wounded, provisions, ammunition, and the troops that could be spared from the fighting.

From time to time we heard news of the combat, which grew fiercer with every hour; yet, in spite of the most furious a.s.saults, the Magyars stood their ground.

"The men must hold the field till dark," was the order pa.s.sed round to the different leaders; and Gorgei knew that, whatever happened, it would be obeyed.

During the early part of the afternoon the noise of the battle died away, 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 thought the enemy had carried the defences.

They had indeed got to hand-to-hand fighting, being repulsed only after a desperate encounter.

How our poor fellows out there on the ridges must have prayed for the coming of night!

Meanwhile, carts and wagons were rolling through the town and away into the mountainous country beyond.

Once riding out with some special message to the general, I found him standing 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, though two of the staff had already been seriously hurt.

"Lucky fellow!" remarked Szondi, as I repa.s.sed him on my way back.

"You're well out of it;" and, seeing how the general was exposing himself, I thought so too.

I could not see the 9th Honveds--they were somewhere on the left--but I earnestly hoped my two friends were safe.

Once more the fury of the battle lessened. It was growing dusk, and even had the light lasted, neither side could have fought much longer.

The Russians naturally were the more fatigued, but when the last shot was 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 the ground. All the night through, the streets of Waitzen echoed to the tramp of infantry, the rumbling of baggage-wagons, the clatter of horses' 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 the astonished enemy only an abandoned camp.

It was night before I learned anything of Rakoczy; and then, to my great joy, 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 our armies were scattered in all directions, and completely out of touch one with the other.

Bern still battled hard in Transylvania; Dembinski was on the borders of Croatia; 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, talked cheerily to their men, and prophesied that Dembinski was about to do great things; but most of the officers privately admitted that our final defeat was certain.

Gorgei himself shared this view, though it did not prevent him from doing all in his power to avert the calamity.

"We're bound to draw the Russians after us," he said cheerfully, "and that will take them from Dembinski's shoulders. If only we can outmarch the Russians and join the Pole anywhere near Debreczin, there may still be 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 was Paskewitch doing with the rest of his army?

One morning, about the fifth day of the retreat, the general suddenly told me to go and find where the Russian chief was, and what he was doing.

"The reports of the scouts are very unsatisfactory," he said. "I can't make head or tail of them. Just find out all you can for yourself, and catch me up at Miskolcz."

Taking Mecsey Sandor with me, as he knew the country much better than I did, I started immediately, being in a short time out of sight and sound of the retreating army.

Knowing that Paskewitch had stopped his southward march, we concluded he would try to prevent Gorgei crossing the Theiss.

My best course evidently was to ride due south, questioning the country people as I pa.s.sed.

"We shall learn something at Gyongyos," said Mecsey, "and we ought to reach 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 hard in the fields to save the ripening crops from destruction.