Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1858-11-20

bore up like a hero. Paul was lucky enough to
catch riderless horse, which mounted. The
worst was over and we soon got respite
Without troubling you with details, and incred-
ible though it may seem to you, my poor friend
escaped with life although with limb and an
eye the less"
"There must have been many extraordinary
escapes from that campaign" remarked
"lnnumerable. There was a sergeant of dra-
goons, former comrade of my servants, who,
for many days marched beside me and Paul
He received a severe wound. There were some
vehicles still with us at that time, and we got
him place in one of them, and made him as
comfortable as we could. The following night
we stopped at a town. In the morning, as we
were about to march, the Cossacks came down.
There was great confusion; several baggage cars
were captured in the street, and some of the
wounded men were abandoned in the houses
where they had passed the night. Among these
was Sergeant Fritz. Not many houses in the
town were still in good condition-.most of them
had been burned and knocked to pieces by the
soldiers. The house in which Fritz lay had still
its door and windows, and was one Of the most
comfortable i'll the place, on which account it
had been converted into hospital Well, the
Russians came, brought their wounded, and
turned out our poor fellows to make room for
them. Some, who could not move quickly
enough, were brutally pitched through low
window into a garden behind the house, there to
perish miscrably. Fritz was one of these
Only just able TO crawl, he made his way around
the garden, seeking egress. He reached gate
communicating with another garden. 1t was
locked, and pain and weakness forbade his climb
ing over. lie sat close to the gate, propped
against it, and looking wistfully through the
bars at the window of house, at the cheerful
glow OF fire, when he was perceived by young
girl. She came out and opened the gate and
helped him into the house. Her father was a
German clock maker, long settled in Russia. and
frltl, Swiss, spoke German well. The kind
people put him to bed, hid his uniform, and
tended him like son. When, in the following
spring his health was restored, and he would
have left them, the German proposed to him to
remain and assist him in his trade. He accepted
the offer, married the Germans daughter, and
remained in Russia until his father-n-laws
death, when he was taken with a longing to re-
VISIT his native mountains, and returned to Swift
zerland with his wife and family. | met him
since at Paris, and he told me his story. But
although his escape was narrow and romantic
enough, there must have been others much more
remarkable. Most of the prisoners made by the
Russians, and who survived cold and harsh
building the city. When the fine season came
some of them managed to escape, and to make
their way, in various DISCUSSES, aud through
countless adventures, back to their own coun-
try."
have set down the most startling portions Of
our conyersation-or rather, of the doctors
narrative, since did little but listen, and occa-
sionally by question or remark. direct his COM
municativeness into the channel | wished it to
take. We were now near Orleans
The letter | was reading when we started"
said my companion, "and which has brought
back to my memory all that l have told you
perhaps of wearyins YOU, hr added with
cumstances, to me of thrilling and everlasting
interest, is from General Preville, who lives in
the south of France, but has come Unexpectedly
to Orleans to pass month with me. That is
his way. He lives happily with married daugh-
ter. but now and then the desire to see an old
comrade, and to fight old battles over again,
comes so strongly upon him, that he has his
valisc packed at an hours notice, and takes me
by surprise. He knows well that The Generals
Room and an affectionate reception always
await him. | received his lettcr-full of refe-
rences to old times-yesterday evening, and am
now hurrying back to Orleans to see him. lie
may very likely be waiting for me at the sta
ton, and you will see that for a man who gave
himself up for dead forty years ago in the SHOWS
of Russia, and begged as favor, a bullet through
his brain, looks tolerably hearty and satisfied to
live"
"'There is one thing, Monsieur lie Doctuer,"
l said (which you have not explained to me,
and which do not understand. Did youm umean
literally what you said, that since the Russian
you have never had your feet warm ?"
'Litterally and truly, sir. When we got to
Orcha, where Jommi was in command and where
the heroic Ney, who had been separated from
the army, rejoined us with the skeleton of his
cut his way BY sheer valor and
soldiership, through the clouds of Patofi's Cos
sacks-we took days rest. 1t was the 20th
of November, the last day of anything approach
ing to comfort, which we were to enjoy before
crossing the Russian frontier. True, we made
one more halt at Moodetschino, whence Napo-
leon dated his bulletin Of our terrible disasters
but then only portion of us could find lodg-
ings we were sick, half frozen, and numbers
died in the streets. At Orcha we found shelter
and tranquility the governor had provided pro-
visions against our passage the enemy left us
quiet and we enjoyed day of complete repose.
My baggage had long since been lost, and only
pair of boots were worn TO shreds, had been
riding with fragments of a soldiers Jacket tied
round my feet, which usually kept out of the
stirrups, the contact with the iron Increasing the
cold. At Orcha, the invaluable Paul brought
me Jew (the Jews were our chief purveyors on
that retrea) with boots for sale. | selected
pair and threw away my old ones, which for
many days had not taken off. My feet were
already in bad state, sore and liyid. l bathed
them, put on fresh stockings and new boots, and
contrived with a pair of old trousers sort of
leggings or overhalls, closed at the bottom and
to De worn over the boots. From that day till
we got beyond the Nieman, distance of one
hundred and ten leagues, which we took three
weeks to perform, never took off any part of
my dress. During that time suffered greatly
from my feet; they swelled till my boots were
too tight for me, and at times was in agony.
When we at last were comparatively in safety,
and found myself for the first time since left
Oraha, in warm room, with bed to lie upon
and water to wash, called Paul to pull off my
boots. Sir, with them came off my stockings
and the entire skin of both feet. A hayers knife
could hardly have done the thing more COM
pletely. For moment gave myself up as lost.
| had seen enough of this kind of thing to know
that my feet were on the verge of modification.
There was scarcely time to amputate, had any
been at hand to do it, and had been willing to
preserve life at such price. Only one thing
II I ..