my were advancing. This time they wore white
coats and flat caps, with a raised piece in front, on which we could
see the two-headed eagle of the _kreutzers_. Old Pinto, who recognized
them at once, cried:

"Those fellows are the _kaiserliks_! We have beaten them fifty times
since 1793; but if the father of Marie Louise had a heart, they would
be with us now instead of against us."

For some moments a cannonade had been going on at the other side of the
city, where Bluecher was attacking the faubourg of Halle.

Soon after, the firing stretched along to the right; it was Bernadotte
attacking the faubourg of Kohlgartenthor, and at the same time the
first shells of the Austrians fell in our covered ways; they followed
in file; many passing over Hinterthor, burst in the houses and the
streets of the faubourg.

At nine o'clock the Austrians formed their columns of attack on the
Caunewitz road, and poured down on us from all sides. Nevertheless we
held our own until about ten o'clock, and then were forced back to the
old ramparts, through the breaches of which the Kaiserliks pursued us
under the cross-fire of the Fourteenth and Twenty-ninth of the line.
The poor Austrians were not inspired with the fury of the Prussians,
but nevertheless, showed a true courage; for, at half-past ten they had
won the ramparts, and although, from all the neighboring windows, we
kept up a deadly fire, we could not force them back. Six months before
it would have horrified me to think of men being thus slaughtered, but
now I was as insensible as any old soldier, and the death of one man or
of a hundred would not cost me a thought.

Until this time all had gone well, but how were we to get out of the
houses? Unless we climbed on the roof, retreat was no longer possible.
This again was one of those terrible moments I shall never forget. All
at once the idea struck me that we should be caught like foxes which
they smoke in their holes. The enemy held every avenue. I went to a
window in the rear, and saw that it looked out on a yard, and that the
yard had no gate except in front. I thought it not unlikely that the
Austrians, in revenge for the loss we had inflicted upon them, might
put us to the point of the bayonet. It would have been natural enough.
Thinking thus, I ran back to a room, where a dozen of us yet remained,
and there I saw Sergeant Pinto leaning against the wall, his arms
hanging by his sides, and his face as white as pa