ablutions. Just
outside the door I met the Count, who, proudly exhibiting a couple of
eggs he had bought from the woman of the house, invited me to
breakfast with him, provided we could beg some coffee from the king's
escort. Putting the eggs under my charge, with many injunctions as
to their safe-keeping, he went off to forage for the coffee, and
presently returned, having been moderately successful. One egg
apiece was hardly enough, however, to appease the craving of two
strong men ravenous from long fasting. Indeed, it seemed only to
whet the appetite, and we both set out on an eager expedition for
more food. Before going far I had the good luck to meet a sutler's
wagon, and though its stock was about all sold, there were still left
four large bologna sausages, which I promptly purchased--paying a
round sum for them too--and hastening back found the Count already
returned, though without bringing anything at all to eat; but he had
secured a couple of bottles of brandy, and with a little of this--it
was excellent, too--and the sausages, the slim ration of eggs and
coffee was amply reinforced.
Breakfast over, the Chancellor invited me to accompany him in a ride
to the battle-field, and I gladly accepted, as I very much desired to
pass over the ground in front of Gravelotte, particularly so to see
whether the Krupp guns had really done the execution that was claimed
for them by the German artillery officers. Going directly through
the village of Gravelotte, following the causeway over which the
German cavalry had passed to make its courageous but futile charge,
we soon reached the ground where the fighting had been the most
severe. Here the field was literally covered with evidences of the
terrible strife, the dead and wounded strewn thick on every side.
In the sunken road the carnage had been awful; men and horses having
been slaughtered there by hundreds, helpless before the murderous
fire delivered from behind a high stone wall impracticable to mounted
troops. The sight was sickening to an extreme, and we were not slow
to direct our course elsewhere, going up the glacis toward the French
line, the open ground over which we crossed being covered with
thousands of helmets, that had been thrown off by the Germans during
the fight and were still dotting the field, though details of
soldiers from the organizations which had been engaged here were
about to begin to gather up their abandoned headgear.
When we
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