straw. That glance was his farewell to life: he lived forty-eight hours longer, but in a state of unconscious

ness.

M. de Pimodan's horse had been killed under him in the bloody and unprofitable conflict at the entrance of Vicenza. Mounted upon poor Zichy's charger, he preceded General Thurn's column, alone, and at risk of his life in every town and village he passed through, but regardless of danger in his desire to inform Radetsky of the approach of the troops, for whose arrival he knew him to be anxious. His reception by the marshal was all he could desire. "He was good enough to testify joy at seeing me, and to say that he well knew I should be the first to inform him of the coming of Nugent's corps. It was by such marks of interest and words of encouragement that the marshal won the hearts of his officers; and not one of us but was ready to sacrifice himself to procure him the honour of assuring the triumph of the imperial arms at the close, as at the beginning, of his glorious career."

It were in vain to attempt, within the limits of an article, to give even an outline of all the events shared in, witnessed, or recorded by M. de Pimodau, who is an economist of words, and gets a great deal into a small space; nor would it be of interest to trace the whole of his narrative, the wars to which it refers being so recent, and their main incidents fresh in every one's memory. We prefer confining ourselves to the more personal parts of his sketches, and to such traits and anecdotes as throw light upon the spirit and character of the gallant armies with which he served, and of the equally gallant ones against which he fought. At the severe combat of Montanara, (28th May,) General Hess, chief of the staff, sent him to the front, about two in the afternoon, to make a report on the state of the fight. The village of Montanara, loopholed, fortified, and defended by strong redoubts, was held by Tuscan troops.

On the high-road a furious cannonade was going on: to the right of the village the musketry was most violent; and thither the aide-de-camp spurred his horse, through fields of vines and mulberries. Every military reader, who has witnessed similar scenes, will recognise the vivid truthfulness of the following passage:

"General Count Clam was there, calm and self-possessed; he had just ordered the attack of the loopholed houses, and stood cutting with his horse-whip the weeds by the roadside, whilst the bullets flew around him in showers. Schestak, his aide-decamp, fell dead by his side.* Then Count Clam went himself to post a rocket-battery in the churchyard, to set fire to the village; and, leaping some large trenches into which many of the wounded had crawled, he advanced into the very centre of our skirmishers. Up came Colonel Reischach, his bloody sabre in his hand: at the head of his men he had just carried by assault the foremost of the fortified houses. We were opposite the right flank of the redoubt, on which a large banner was waving. I called upon some thirty men to follow me-I was bent upon being the first in the redoubt and seizing the flag; but as I was running across the meadow at their head, the fire redoubled, a storm of bullets flew through the air; Captain Stiller and several men fell, and the others threw themselves for shelter into a large trench upon the left. Colonel Reischach then came up with two companies of his regiment, brandishing his sabre and shouting 'Long live the Emperor!' as he marched at their head. Nevertheless, so violent was the cross-fire, that his soldiers paused, not daring to enter the court and break in the house-door; seeing which, the colonel ran up to it, and I followed him. We were marks for every musket; but Reischach's men, encouraged by his example, rushed into the court and entered the house by the lower windows. There was a fight in the rooms and on the stair

VOL. LXX.-NO. CCCCXXIX.

C

case; Reischach is here!' was the cry: 'victory is ours! Down with the Tuscans! Our men, heated and furious with the struggle, struck down, with bayonet and musket-but, those Tuscans who still resisted in the midst of the smoke; the others threw down their arms and implored quarter. Masters of this house, we were able to take the redoubt in rear. The enemy, seeing himself turned and exposed to our fire, fled in confusion, abandoning his defences: our troops entered the village on all sides at once, the different detachments shouting to each other, for fear of mistake, Prohaska for ever! do not fire!'"

เ

That the Austrian officers, especially those of Prohaska and Paumgarten, did their duty bravely that day, was sufficiently proved by the returns of killed and wounded in those two regiments, which bore the brunt of the combats of Curtatone and Montanara. At the rate of four officers to each company of one hundred and twenty men, the proportion should have been as one in thirty. Instead of that, in Prohaska it was as one in eight, in Paumgarten as one in nine. That night Captain Pimodan visited the hospital: it was a ghastly sight. In one room lay nine officers of a battalion of Paumgarten, some dying of their wounds, others awaiting the operator's leisure. On his return from this mournful visit, and when about to seek repose after the fatigue and excitement of the battle, the aide-de-camp was sent off with an order. He set out in a carriage, but the road he had to follow was strewed with dead bodies; the horses shied and refused to proceed; he was obliged to get out and perform his mission on foot, and did not get back to Mantua till daybreak. Under Marshal Radetsky a staff officer's duty was anything but a sinecure.

The beginning of June brought the marshal news of the revolution at Vienna-intelligence which materially modified his plans. Feeling that the

fate of the Austrian empire might perhaps depend upon the preservation of his army, he no longer thought it advisable to risk a battle, nor to recapture Peschiera, which had fallen into the enemy's hands. But he determined, by the capture of Vicenza, to keep the Venetian provinces in check. None will have forgotten the details of that admirably planned and brilliantly executed enterprise. M. de Pimodan, who had been detached with orders, was late in the field. Before his arrival, Colonel Reischach, the hero of Montanara, had been struck down by two severe wounds, and many other brave men had fallen, amongst them Colonel Koppal of the 10th Light Infantry, Colonel Kavanagh, and Prince Taxis. An interesting circumstance is told with respect to Koppal, who had fought heroically, and in whose battalion scarcely an officer remained alive. "After the campaign, the army that had fought in Italy presented the 10th battalion of Chasseurs with an enamelled bugle, on which was a medallion representing Colonel Koppal at the head of his soldiers, and surrounded by the words, Forward! Koppal calls!' What soldier could desire or receive a more honourable memorial? The idea is worthy of a poet, and might well inspire one. Nor were poets wanting to celebrate the gallant deeds of the Austrian army. "Zedlitz and Grillparzer, who, when all at Vienna trembled before the champions of anarchy, still dared to sing our glorious combats, had their share in our gratitude; the army sent them two cups of chased silver. How many other names are engraved in ineffaceable characters on our hearts, and on the memory of our soldiers!-Szecsen, Thurn, Zichy, Sunstenau, and you, brave Salis,' worthy son of that family of heroes which bleeds on every battle-fieldyou who, true to your motto, 'Where the peril is great, the glory is so much the greater,' perished in the moment of triumph! How many regrets, but also how many noble examples, have

those few months of war in Italy left to the Austrian army!"

It was sundown when M. de Pimodan reached Vicenza, and, hurrying through the church of the Madonna, which was full of wounded, reached the terrace whereon General Culoz had planted his batteries. "I never saw, nor shall ever see, a finer and more terrible spectacle. The town was at our feet, drowned in the blue smoke of gunpowder, through which, here and there, flared tongues of flame from the burning houses; the mountains of the Tyrol were gilded by the last sun-rays; the waters of the Brenta reflected the ardent tints of the sky. Near me, a regimental band played the Austrian national air. The thickets of roses and jessamine upon the terrace were illuminated by hundreds of wax-tapers taken from the church of the Madonna. The soldiers, intoxicated by the ardour of battle and the smoke of powder, danced amidst the corpses of their dead comrades: seventy-two pieces of cannon thundered against the town, filling the air with noise, flames, and smoke, whilst the cries of terror of the inhabitants, and the loud clang of trumpets, mingled with our shouts of triumph. The town was in our power, and we could lay it in ashes if we chose." There was no time to lose; it was of the utmost importance to get quickly back to Verona, threatened with an attack from the Piedmontese army. Favourable terms were granted to General Durando, who capitulated in the night, and the garrison marched out with the honours of war. The town was to be given up at noon. At ten o'clock Radetsky and his staff were on horseback, when M. de la Tour, commander of the two Swiss regiments, who had fought, as Swiss generally do fight, like heroes in defence of the place, came with a request from Durando that the Austrians would not enter the town till three o'clock. marshal courteously granted this delay, and complimented him on the valour of his soldiers. I heard M. de la Tour say, 'For our part, we have done our duty. I have lost fourteen officers and six hundred men.'" M. de Pimodan saw the garrison march out, with drums beating and banners

"The

displayed. A large number of elegant carriages, occupied by ladies, left the place at the same time. "When the Swiss battalions came by, murmurs of admiration arose among us. They marched with a proud and martial air. You are brave fellows!' we said to them; and when we saw their officers, (several of whom, although wounded, had refused to leave their men, and marched with difficulty, some with arms in slings, others with bandaged heads,) we went up to them, impelled by that sentiment of chivalrous courtesy which ennobles war, cordially grasped their hands, and begged them to remember us as friends.

I entered the

town with some other officers. It was deserted; the doors and shutters were all closed; in the square the Pope's dragoons were still drawn up. As I passed along the front of their line, making my horse curvet and prance, he slipped upon the flags, as if to punish me for thus insulting the conquered, and I narrowly escaped breaking my neck."

M. de Pimodan now discovered that he had overtaxed his strength. Great fatigue, want of sleep, and irregular nourishment, had heated his blood, and on his return to Verona he was attacked by fever. For several weeks he lay in a state of extreme weakness, and of indifference to everything. Towards the end of July the army set out to attack the Piedmontese; he scarce noted their departure, or regretted the chance he lost of gaining the cross of Maria Theresa, long the prime object of his ambition. At last he was able to return to his duty; and, at the end of August, Radetsky sent him to Vienna as bearer of the standards captured during the campaign. On his return to Milan, he was shocked by the mournful aspect of the city. The excitement of battle over, the survivors had leisure to lament the slain, and the streets were full of mourning mothers and widows. In November he again went to Vienna, reported himself to Prince Windischgraetz, in whose regiment he had served, and was attached, a few days afterwards, to the staff of the Ban Jellachich. On the 9th of December began the campaign against the Hungarians, whose out

posts were then at but a few hours' march from Vienna, but who retired before the Austrian advance. To all appearance the campaign was destined to be a very short one. The Austrian strength in the field was nearly thrice that of the Hungarians, whose line, moreover, was too extended. On the 16th December the Austrians attacked: the action that ensued might have been decisive, (so M. de Pimodan believes,) had the manœuvres been more prompt and vigorous-or, in other words, if the Austrian leaders had been as able as the Hungarian chiefs. Slow to acknowledge his comrades beaten or outgeneraled, the aide-de-camp yet cannot help speaking his mind in terms almost tantamount to the admission. By a fatal circumspection," he says, 66 we began, from that day forward, to make our movements and operations subordinate to those of the enemy: we lacked intelligence concerning the marches and plans of the Hungarians; and it was they who, although in retreat, took the initiative, for it seemed, thenceforward, as if we advanced into the country only according as they thought proper to give it up to us. Georgey's army was composed of imperial troops which had deserted their colours: this was the nucleus of all the Hungarian forces; and the non-commissioned officers we had drilled turned out excellent officers for the organisation of the Honveds and other levies. Fate would have it that this handful of soldiers should grow into an army of 130,000 men, so powerful that, four months later, our fine and courageous troops were obliged to retire before them, without having been vanquished, to that frontier which they had passed with hope and enthusiasm in their hearts." All this is very significant, and needs no comment. M. de Pimodan is naturally cautious of criticising his superiors. It is unnecessary that he should be more explicit. The world knows well enough, without his admission, that but for Russian interference Hungary was lost to Austria. The confidence in its general and in itself, which characterised the army of Radetsky, was evidently wanting in that of Windischgraetz. This, as well

as the indecision and tardiness of many of the Austrian generals, is clearly proved by various passages of M. de Pimodan's narrative; and he shows us the troops discouraged and grumbling at being marched about the vast plains of Hungary in most inclement weather, exposed to every hardship, and suffering from disease, with scarce an attempt to get at the enemy, and warm their frozen blood by a battle. If this was all they came for, they said, a better season might have been chosen. These complaints commenced early in the campaign. A bitter Christmas had been passed in bivouac; but the soldiers consoled themselves with hopes of a brush with Georgey, then in position before Raab. Georgey was far too skilful to allow himself to be devoured by forces that trebled his own. His army gathered strength by the retrograde movement which weakened his advancing foe. He abandoned his position and moved towards Pesth, pursued by the cavalry brigade of General Ottinger, who, after marching all night, overtook his rearguard at daybreak, and returned that evening to Raab with a standard and seven hundred prisoners. Amongst these were seven officers, almost all belonging to an Austrian regiment that had gone over to the Hungarians. "One of these officers, named Daiewski, was recognised, notwithstanding the wounds that disfigured him, by several of our officers who had been with him at the military school of Neustadt. Some pitied him, and gave him money, others reviled and reproached him with his treason: two parties were quickly formed. 'No pity for traitors!' cried one side.

Respect the wounded,' retorted the other. The quarrel grew vehement. In war time, angry passions are soon roused; sabres were drawn, and blood was about to flow, when Col. Schobeln interfered to quell the tumult. Upon that day General Ottinger commenced the foundation of the brilliant reputation which soon drew upon him the attention of the whole army. His brigade, composed of the two regiments of Hardegg and Wallmoden, was never, during the whole campaign, broken by the enemy: in a battle, the ground over

which his cuirassiers passed was strewed with corpses, and soon the Hungarians knew them only by the name of Ottinger's butchers."

M.

This affair, which occurred at Babolna, was quickly followed by the more important action at Moor, a town situated on an open space in the heart of the great forest of Bakony. Quitting, at four in the morning, Count Casimir Bathyany's castle at Kisber, where the Ban and his staff had passed a part of the night drinking to the success of their enterprise, at nine o'clock the head of the Austrian column debouched from the forest, and was received by four battalions of Honveds and a powerful battery. The Ban had with him only an infantry brigade and six guns, with which he promptly replied to the enemy's fire. Presently Ottinger's cavalry came up. Some of the Honved battalions fell into disorder, and Ottinger pressed forward with a division of his cuirassiers. "The battery must be taken," he cried. de Pimodan, who seems to have had the luck or the talent of being everywhere at the right moment, hurried back to fetch the remainder of the cuirassiers, who were a little in the rear. He shall tell his own story, which is animated enough, and his own escape, which was a narrow one. "Not finding the lieutenantcolonel in the confusion inevitable amongst cavalry marching through a wood, and crossing frozen ravines under an enemy's fire, I called to the soldiers to follow me, and set off at their head. My horse flew like lightning, the balls whistled; at a hundred paces from the battery two final discharges of grape hissed over our heads; the next moment I was amongst the guns, sabreing the artillerymen. One of the pieces, already limbered up, was about to escape us; I dashed at the drivers, and cut at one of them, to force him to stop his horses. Suddenly I beheld before me a troop of Hungarian hussars; the officer, followed by his trumpeter, charged me with uplifted sabre. I met him with a thrust, and withdrew my sabre, bent and wet with blood. The hussars surrounded me, pressed upon me, seized me by the arms and throat; I still struck at

their faces with the hilt of my sabre. Blows fell upon my head and shoulders. With a desperate effort I urged on my vigorous horse; he bounded forward, and tore me from the grasp of the hussars. Then I raised both hands to my head -there were deep cuts in the skull. I wiped away the blood that ran into my eyes, and looked at the fight: the cuirassiers who had followed me were taking away the captured guns. Three had escaped; the remainder of the cavalry, coming up at that moment, spurred in pursuit. Seven or eight squadrons of Hungarian hussars were riding about the plain-Hardegg's and Wallmoden's cuirassiers, led by the Ban, galloped at them. The hussars defended themselves valiantly; but, shaken by the shock, and abandoned by their infantry, they at last fled. Those battalions of Honveds which still stood their ground were broken by the cavalry; more than two thousand prisoners were made. The Ban was happy, and thanked his troops; fortune had seconded his audacity. With only two brigades, (the other three did not reach the field till after the action,) together five thousand men, he had routed the whole of Perczel's corps, which was twice as numerous."

The victory at Moor was a mere flash in the pan, unproductive of any real advantages. The Austrians got to Pesth, and remained there enjoying themselves, whilst Georgey was ably manoeuvring against Schlick, whom he compelled to retreat, and whilst the Hungarians were fortifying the line of the Theiss, and organising their new levies. When M. de Pimodan, who was detained for six weeks at Moor by his wounds, reached Pesth about the middle of February, he found the Austrian army still there, living in luxury and abundance; whilst Dembinski, who commanded the four Hungarian corps on the Theiss, was about to assume the offensive. The action of Kapolna ensued, and then six weeks were passed watching the movements of the Hungarians, and protecting Pesth. In the course of these operations (on the 22d March) the Ban's army occupied Czegled, and M. de Pimodan was lodged in the house of a rich