Through Russian Snows: A Story of Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow by G. A. Henty (reading women txt) 📕

In half an hour Julian felt at home with his new comrades. They differed greatly in age: some among them had grown grizzly in the service, and had fought in all the wars of the Republic and Empire; others were lads not older than himself, taken but a month or two before from the plough. After they had drunk the liquor purchased with his twenty francs, they patted him on the back and drank to the health of Jules Wyatt, for Julian had entered under his own surname, and his Christian name was at once converted to its French equivalent. With his usual knack of making friends, he was soon on excellent terms with them all, joined in their choruses, and sang some English songs whose words he had as an exercise translated into French, and when the men lay down for the night on their straw pallets it was generally agreed that the new comrade was a fine fellow and an acquisition to the company.

The division was to halt for two days at Verdun, and the time was spent, as far as Julian was concerned, in the hands of a sergeant, who kept him hard at work all day acquiring the elements of drill. On the third morning the regiment marched off at daybreak, Julian taking his place in the ranks, with his knapsack and firelock. After the long confinement in the prison he found his life thoroughly enjoyable. Sometimes they stopped in towns, where they were either quartered in barracks or billeted on the inhabitants; sometimes they slept under canvas or in the open air, and this Julian preferred, as they built great fires and gathered round them in merry groups. The conscripts had by this time got over their home-sickness, and had caught the martial enthusiasm of their older comrades. All believed that the Grande Armée would be invincible, and fears were even expressed that the Russians would not venture to stand against them. Some of the older men, however, assured them that there was little chance of this.

"The Russians are hardy fighters, comrades," one of the veterans said. "Parbleu! I who tell you, have fought against them, and they are not to be despised. They are slow at manuœvring, but put them in a place and tell them to hold it, and they will do it to the last. I fought at Austerlitz against the Austrians, and at Jena against the Prussians, and in a score of other battles in Germany and Italy, and I tell you that the Russians are the toughest enemies I have met, save only your Islanders, Jules. I was at Talavera, and the way your people held that hill after the cowardly Spaniards had bolted and left them, and at last rolled us down it, was a thing I don't want to see again. I was wounded and sent home to be patched up, and that is how I come to be here marching against Russia instead of being under Soult in Spain. No, comrades, you take my word for it, big as our army will be, we shall have some tough fighting to do before we get to Moscow or St. Petersburg, whichever the Little Corporal intends to dictate terms in."

"It is as you say, Victor," one of the other veterans said, "and it is all the better. It would be too bad if we had to march right across Europe and back without firing a shot, but I, who know the Russians too, feel sure that that will never be."

Many a merry martial song was sung at the bivouac fires, many a story of campaigns and battles told, and no thought of failure entered the minds of anyone, from the oldest veteran to the youngest drummer-boy. Of an evening, after halting, Julian generally had half an hour's drill, until, three weeks after leaving Verdun, he was pronounced fit to take part in a review under the eyes of the Emperor himself. His readiness to oblige, even to undertaking sentry duty for a comrade who had grown footsore on the march, or was suffering from some temporary ailment, his cheeriness and good temper, had by this time rendered him a general favourite in the company, and when he was dismissed from drill the veterans were always ready to give him lessons with the sabre or rapier in addition to those he received from the maître d'armes of the regiment. Julian entered into these exercises with great earnestness. Quarrels between the men were not infrequent, and these were always settled by the sabre or straight sword, the officers' permission being necessary before these duels took place. It was seldom that their consequences were very serious. The maître d'armes was always present, and put a stop to the fight as soon as blood was drawn. At present Julian was on the best terms with all his comrades, but he felt that, if he should become involved in a quarrel, he of all men must be ready to vindicate his honour and to show that, Englishman as he was, he was not a whit behind his comrades in his readiness to prove his courage. Thus, then, he worked with ardour, and ere long became able to hold his own even with the veterans of the regiment.

PISTOL PRACTICE

"You are a rum fellow, Wyatt," one of the captains of the depôt of his regiment said to Frank a fortnight after he joined.

"How am I rum?"

"Why, about that Russian fellow. I never heard of a young cornet setting-to to work like a nigger, when there is no occasion in the world for him to do so."

"There is no absolute occasion perhaps, but you see Russian may be very useful some day."

"Well, yes, and so might any other out-of-the-way language."

"It is an off-chance, no doubt; still it is better to be doing something that may turn out useful than to be walking up and down the High Street or playing billiards. I don't spend much time over it now, for there is a good deal to do in learning one's work, but when I once get out of the hands of the drill-sergeant and the riding-master I shall have a lot of time to myself, and shall be very glad to occupy some of it in getting up Russian."

"Of course it is your own business and not mine, Wyatt; but I am afraid you won't find things very pleasant if you take a line of your own and don't go with the rest."

"I have no wish not to go with the rest," Frank protested. "When there is anything to be done, whether it is hunting or any sort of sport, I shall certainly take my share in it; but don't you think yourself, Captain Lister, that it is much better for a fellow to spend part of his time reasonably than in lounging about, or in playing billiards or cards?"

"I don't say that it isn't better, Wyatt, but that is hardly the question. Many things may be better than others, but if a fellow doesn't go with the run he gets himself disliked, and has a very hard time of it."

"I used to hear a good deal of the same thing when I was at school," Frank said quietly, "but I don't think I was disliked for sticking to work sometimes, when other fellows were playing. Surely when one is from morning till night with other men, it can matter to no one but himself if he gives two or three hours a day to work."

"It does not matter to anyone, Wyatt. I am quite willing to grant it, but for all that, I am afraid, if you stick to it, you will have to put up with a great deal of chaff, and not always of a good-natured kind."

"I can put up with any amount of chaff," Frank replied; "I mean chaff in its proper sense. Anything that goes beyond that, I shall, I hope, be able to meet as it deserves. Perhaps it would be better if I were to take half an hour a day off my Russian studies and to spend that time in the pistol-gallery."

Captain Lister looked at him earnestly. "I think you will do, youngster," he said approvingly, "that is the right spirit. There is a lot of rough fun and larking in a regiment, and the man that goes through it best, is he who can take a joke good-temperedly as long as it does not go beyond the bounds of moderation, but who is ready to resent any wilful insult: but I think you would be very wise to do as you say. Half an hour in a pistol-gallery every day is likely to be of vastly more use to you than any amount of Russian. The reputation that a man is a crack shot with a pistol will do more than anything in the world to keep him out of quarrels. Here at the depôt at any rate, where the fellows are for the most part young, it would certainly save you a good deal of annoyance if it were known that, although not by any means a quarrelsome fellow, you were determined to put up with nothing beyond good-humoured jokes. Well, lad, I don't want to interfere with your hobby, only I advise you not to ride it too hard, at any rate at first. When the men all know you and get to like you, and see that, apart from this fancy of yours, you are an all-round good fellow, as I can see you are, they will let you go your own way. At any rate, as captain of your troop, I will do all I can to make things pleasant for you, but don't forget about the pistol practice. At a depôt like this, where there are half a dozen regiments represented, you will meet with a larger proportion of disagreeable men than you would in your own ante-room. You see, if colonels have such men, they are glad enough to rid the regiment of them by leaving them at the depôt, and any serious trouble is more likely to come from one of them than from anyone in your own regiment."

"I will take your advice, certainly," Frank said; "the more so that the time spent in learning to be a good shot with a pistol will be most useful in a campaign, even if there is no occasion ever to put it to the test when at home."

"There is a gunsmith in St. Margaret's Street. It is a small shop, but the man, Woodall is his name, has got a long shed that he uses as a pistol-gallery, a quarter of a mile out beyond the gate. He is an admirable shot himself as well as an excellent workman, and you can't do better than go to him. Tell him that you want to become a good shot with the pistol, and are willing to pay for lessons. If he takes you in hand it won't be long before he turns you out as a fair shot, whether you ever get beyond that depends on nerve and eye, and I should think that you have no lack of either."

"I hope not," Frank said, with a smile. "At any rate I will see him this afternoon."

"Put on your cap at once, and I will go down with you," Captain Lister said; "and mind, I think if I were you I should say nothing about it at the depôt until he tells you that he has done with you. Knowing that the man is a learner might have just the opposite effect of hearing that he is a crack shot."

In a quarter of an hour they arrived at the gunsmith's. "Woodall," Captain Lister said, "my friend, Mr. Wyatt, who has lately joined, has a fancy for becoming a first-rate pistol shot."

"He couldn't have a more useful fancy, Captain Lister. My idea is, that every cavalry-man—trooper as well as officer—should be a dead shot with a pistol. The sword is all very well, and I don't say it is not a useful weapon, but a regiment that could shoot—really shoot well—would be a match for any three French regiments, though they were Boney's best."'

"He wants you take him in hand yourself, Woodall, if you can spare the time to do so; of course, he is ready to pay you for your time and trouble, and would meet you at any hour you like to name in the afternoon at your shed."

"All right, sir. It is a rum thing to me that, while every officer is ready to take any pains to learn the sword exercise, they seem to think that pistol-shooting comes by nature, and that, even