per. He had just
received a bullet in the breast, but the old man's warrior soul was
still strong within him, as he cried:

"Defend yourselves, conscripts! Defend yourselves! Show the
Kaiserliks that a French soldier is yet worth four of them! ah the
villains!"

We heard the sound of blows on the door below thundering like
cannon-shot. We still kept up our fire, but hopelessly, when we heard
the clatter of hoofs without. The firing ceased, and we saw through
the smoke four squadrons of lancers dashing like a troop of lions
through the midst of the Austrians. All yielded before them. The
Kaiserliks fled, but the long, blue lances, with their red pennons,
were swifter than they, and many a white coat was pierced from behind.
The lancers were Poles--the most terrible warriors I have ever seen,
and, to speak truth, our friends, and our brothers. They never turned
from us in our hour of need; they gave us the last drop of their blood.
And what have we done for their unhappy country? When I think of our
ingratitude, my heart bleeds. The Poles rescued us. Seeing them so
proud and brave, we rushed out, attacking the Austrians with the
bayonet, and driving them into the trenches. We were for the time
victorious, but it was time to beat a retreat, for the enemy were
already filling Leipzig; the gates of Halle and Grimma were forced, and
that of Peters-Thau delivered up by our friends the Badeners and our
other friends the Saxons. Soldiers, citizens, and students kept up a
fire from the windows, on our retiring troops.

We had only time to re-form and take the road along the Pleisse; the
lancers awaited us there: we defiled behind them, and, as the Austrians
again pressed around us, they charged once more to drive them back.
What brave fellows and magnificent horsemen were those Poles! How
those who saw them charge--in such a moment--must admire them!

The division, reduced from fifteen to eight thousand men, retired step
by step before fifty thousand foes, and not without often turning and
replying to the Austrian fire.

We neared the bridge--with what joy, I need not say. But it was no
easy task to reach it, for infantry and horse crowded the whole width
of the avenue, and continued to come from all the neighboring roads,
until the crowd formed an impenetrable mass, which advanced slowly,
with groans and smothered cries, which might be heard at a distance of
half a mile, despite the rattling of musketry. Wo