Diary of a Napoleonic Footsoldier by Jakob Walter

Author:Jakob Walter [Walter, Jakob]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Europe, France, Western, Historical, Biography & Autobiography, History
ISBN: 9780307817563
Google: Y4j1mnyLQMwC
Amazon: B007UH4DJK
Publisher: Doubleday
Published: 2012-05-09T04:00:00+00:00

15. ENTITLED “A RUSSIAN COSSACK,” THIS ENGRAVING IS BY AN ARTIST FROM MIDDLE EUROPE.

It was November 25, 1812, when we reached Borissov. Now the march went toward the Beresina River, where the indescribable horror of all possible plagues awaited us. On the way I met one of my countrymen, by the name of Brenner, who had served with the Light Horse Regiment. He came toward me completely wet and half frozen, and we greeted each other. Brenner said that the night before he and his horse had been caught and plundered but that he had taken to flight again and had come through a river which was not frozen. Now, he said, he was near death from freezing and starvation. This good, noble soldier had run into me not far from Smolensk with a little loaf of bread weighing about two pounds and had asked me whether I wanted a piece of bread, saying that this was his last supply. “However, because you have nothing at all, I will share it with you.” He had dismounted, laid the bread on the ground, and cut it in two with his saber. “Dear, good friend,” I had replied, “you treat me like a brother. I will not forget as long as I live this good deed of yours but will rather repay you many times if we live!” He had then a Russian horse, a huge dun, mounted it, and each of us had to work his way through, facing his own dangers. This second meeting, with both of us in the most miserable condition because no aid was available, caused a pang in my heart which sank in me unforgettably. Both of us were again separated, and death overtook him.

When we came nearer the Beresina River, there was a place where Napoleon ordered his pack horses to be unharnessed and where he ate. He watched his army pass by in the most wretched condition. What he may have felt in his heart is impossible to surmise. His outward appearance seemed indifferent and unconcerned over the wretchedness of his soldiers; only ambition and lost honor may have made themselves felt in his heart; and, although the French and Allies shouted into his ears many oaths and curses about his own guilty person, he was still able to listen to them unmoved. After his Guard had already disbanded and he was almost abandoned, he collected a voluntary corps at Dubrovna which was enrolled with many promises and received the name of “Holy Squadron.” After a short time, however, this existed in name only, for the enemy reduced even them to nothing.

In this region we came to a half-burnt village away from the road, in which a cellar was found under a mansion. We sought for potatoes, and I also pressed down the broad stairway, although the cellar was already half filled with people. When I was at the bottom of the steps, the screaming began under my feet. Everyone crowded in, and none could get out.

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