, and were obliged
to cross the Sambre, and be satisfied with such a position as enabled us
to hold the two bridges over the river--and there we remained for four
days: some said preparing for a fresh attack upon Kaunitz, who commanded
the allies; some, and I believe they were right, alleging that our
generals were squabbling all day, and all night, too, with two
commissaries that the government had sent down to teach us how to win
battles. Ma foi! we had had some experience in that way ourselves,
without learning the art from two citizens with tricolored scarfs round
their waists, and yellow tops to their boots! However that might be,
early on the morning of the 20th we received orders to cross the river
in two strong columns and form on the opposite side; at the same time
that a division was to pass the stream by boat two miles higher up, and,
concealing themselves in a pine wood, be ready to take the enemy in
flank, when they believed that all the force was in the front.

"Sacre tonnerre! I believe that our armies of the Sambre and the Rhine
never have any other notion of battles than that eternal flank
movement!" cried a young sergeant of the voltigeurs, who had just come
up from the army of Italy. "Our general used to split the enemy by the
centre, out him piecemeal by attack in columns, and then head him down
with artillery at short range--not leaving him time for a retreat in
heavy masses--"

"Silence, silence, and let us hear Petit Pierre," shouted a dozen
voices, who cared far more for an incident, than a scientific discussion
about manoeuvres.

"The plan I speak of was General Moreau's," continued Pierre; "and I
fancy that your Bonaparte has something to learn ere he be _his_ equal!"

This rebuke seeming to have engaged the suffrages of the company, he
went on: "The boat division consisted of four battalions of infantry,
two batteries of light-artillery, and a voltigeur company of the
"Regiment de Marboeuf"--to which I was then, for the time, attached as
"Tambour en chef." What fellows they were--the greatest devils in the
whole army! They came from the Faubourg St. Antoine, and were as
reckless and undisciplined as when they strutted the streets of Paris.
When they were thrown out to skirmish, they used to play as many tricks
as school-boys: sometimes they'd run up to the roof of a cabin or a
hut--and they could climb like cats--and, sitting down on the chimney,
begin firing away at the enemy, as coolly a