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diff --git a/28277-tei/28277-tei.tei b/28277-tei/28277-tei.tei new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e76363f --- /dev/null +++ b/28277-tei/28277-tei.tei @@ -0,0 +1,608 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?> +<!DOCTYPE TEI.2 SYSTEM "http://www.gutenberg.org/tei/marcello/0.4/dtd/pgtei.dtd" [ + <!ENTITY u5 "http://www.tei-c.org/Lite/"> +]> + +<TEI.2 lang="en"> +<teiHeader> + <fileDesc> + <titleStmt> + <title>My First Battle</title> + <title type='sub'>A Sergeant's Story</title> + <author><name reg="Mickiewicz, Adam">Adam Mickiewicz</name></author> + <respStmt> + <resp>Translated by:</resp> + <name reg="Noyes, George Rapall">Jimmy O'Regan</name> + </respStmt> + </titleStmt> + <editionStmt> + <edition n="1">Edition 1</edition> + </editionStmt> + <publicationStmt> + <publisher>Project Gutenberg</publisher> + <date value="2009-03-07">March 7, 2009</date> + <idno type="etext-no">28277</idno> + <availability> + <p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and + with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it + away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg + License online at www.gutenberg.org/license</p> + <!-- Librivox dedication --> + <p>The person or persons who have associated work with this + document (the <q>Dedicator</q> or <q>Certifier</q>) hereby either + (a) certifies that, to the best of his knowledge, the work of + authorship identified is in the public domain of the country + from which the work is published, or (b) hereby dedicates + whatever copyright the dedicators holds in the work of authorship + identified below (the <q>Work</q>) to the public domain. A certifier, + moreover, dedicates any copyright interest he may have in the + associated work, and for these purposes, is described as a + <q>dedicator</q> below.</p> + <p>A certifier has taken reasonable steps to verify the copyright + status of this work. Certifier recognizes that his good faith efforts + may not shield him from liability if in fact the work certified + is not in the public domain.</p> + <p>Dedicator makes this dedication for the benefit of the public + at large and to the detriment of the Dedicator's heirs and + successors. Dedicator intends this dedication to be an overt act + of relinquishment in perpetuity of all present and future rights + under copyright law, whether vested or contingent, in the Work. + Dedicator understands that such relinquishment of all rights + includes the relinquishment of all rights to enforce (by lawsuit + or otherwise) those copyrights in the Work.</p> + <p>Dedicator recognizes that, once placed in the public domain, + the Work may be freely reproduced, distributed, transmitted, used, + modified, built upon, or otherwise exploited by anyone for any + purpose, commercial or non-commercial, and in any way, including by + methods that have not yet been invented or conceived.</p> + </availability> + </publicationStmt> + <sourceDesc> + <bibl> + Created electronically. + </bibl> + </sourceDesc> + </fileDesc> + <encodingDesc> + </encodingDesc> + <profileDesc> + <langUsage> + <language id="en"></language> + <language id="pl"></language> + <language id="la"></language> + </langUsage> + </profileDesc> + <revisionDesc> + <change> + <date value="2009-03-07">March 7, 2009</date> + <respStmt> + <name> + Translated by Jimmy O'Regan (With thanks to + Mariusz Florczak, Sebastian & Ania Mikulicz, + Tomasz Mikulicz, and Joe O'Regan, Sr., for their + assistance). + </name> + </respStmt> + <item>Project Gutenberg TEI edition 1</item> + </change> + </revisionDesc> +</teiHeader> + +<pgExtensions> + <pgStyleSheet> + .boxed { x-class: boxed } + .shaded { x-class: shaded } + .rules { x-class: rules; rules: all } + .indent { margin-left: 2 } + .bold { font-weight: bold } + .italic { font-style: italic } + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + </pgStyleSheet> + + <pgCharMap formats="txt.iso-8859-1"> + <char id="U0x2014"> + <charName>mdash</charName> + <desc>EM DASH</desc> + <mapping>--</mapping> + </char> + <char id="U0x2003"> + <charName>emsp</charName> + <desc>EM SPACE</desc> + <mapping> </mapping> + </char> + <char id="U0x2026"> + <charName>hellip</charName> + <desc>HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS</desc> + <mapping>...</mapping> + </char> + </pgCharMap> +</pgExtensions> + +<text lang="en"> + <front> + <div> + <divGen type="pgheader" /> + </div> + <div> + <divGen type="encodingDesc" /> + </div> +<div rend="page-break-before: always"> +<p rend="font-size: x-large; text-align: center">Adam Mickiewicz</p> +<p rend="font-size: xx-large; text-align: center">MY FIRST BATTLE</p> +<p rend="font-size: x-large; text-align: center">A SERGEANT'S STORY</p> +</div> +</front> +<body> +<div rend="page-break-before: always"> +<p>They envy Attila, who fought a thousand battles, and in the thousandth +still felt that, which he called <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>gaudia certaminum</foreign>, that is, the delight +in the slaughter. Oh, that old general was a lecher of blood. As far as I +am concerned, holding the rank of light artillery sergeant, I confess, +that I was truly in love with war, but only during the first week of my +military career, and that only one single time I tasted Attila's delight. +For this reason my honeymoon and first battle will never leave my +memory.</p> + +<p>The first battle has the most particular similarity to first love. How +many hopes! how many illusions! before this ceremonial action, which +resolves the fate of nations, any recruit feels obliged to play at least +a role… as a hero of history or a romance.</p> + +<p>It finally comes to the trial and you stand before it with impatience +and a certain anxiety, experiencing once mortal terror, then again a +crazed joy; now fear pierces you, now the pride of the triumphant picks +you up.. In one hour you pass through crowds of emotions, and you collect +keepsakes for your whole life! but in order to feel it in full force, you +must have the heart of a virgin, the heart of a recruit.</p> + +<p>Someone said that every man can compose a good romance, telling only +the simple story of his first love. This insight encouraged me to describe +the first battle, in which I was. You need to know that this battle is +only an episode of a famous war, that in it we achieved a great victory, +and that in its time it won us the admiration of the European people. +Admittedly, these are times long past, because people have well forgotten +both about our defeats and about our triumphs. In spite of this, the +Polish soldier will never forget about the Battle of Stoczek.</p> + +<p>After the revolution of the 29th of November<note place='foot'><p>1831.</p></note>, I decided to join the +ranks, and I pondered, whether to the infantry, or to the cavalry? To make +a definite choice, I ran through the streets of Warsaw, eyeing closely the +uniforms of several regiments. I stopped ahead of a battalion of +grenadiers, who marched in tight rows, silently, in order and seriously. +Each moustachiod, with chevrons on his shoulders. These were the remains +of the Napoleonic legions. As they passed, they were yielded to with the +utmost respect, and they were whispering in the crowd: <q>There are my +soldiers! there are our defenders!</q> I envy them, I thought, it's a +beautiful thing to be a grenadier! And I approached the division, and +having taken the place beside the drummer, I marched in the grenadiers' +step, singling out the commander, to whom I immediately wished to offer my +services.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, on the other side of the street, a new military meteor +appeared to me. He was a Krakus<note place='foot'><p> +A soldier of the Cracovian cavalary. <q>Krakus</q> is an +alternative name of <emph>Krak</emph>, the legendary +founder of Cracow, and is used to refer to an inhabitant +of the city. +</p></note> on a white horse, in a white <foreign lang='pl' rend='italic'>sukmana</foreign><note place='foot'><p> +A type of tunic, of Turkish influence, typical of Cracow. +</p></note>, in a +red cap with a white feather, which cut like a swan through black waves of +crowding townsfolk. He turned his horse beautifully; he welcomed +pedestrians with a nod, with cavalrymen squeezed hands, and to beautiful +ladies, standing in windows, sent grateful kisses. All eyes turned towards +him; men clapped, women smiled in silence; and the beautiful Krakus became +the god of the moment.</p> + + +<p>It came to my mind right away, that a Krakus' uniform at my age and +height would suit me better, and so my true calling manifested itself: God +had made me a Krakus!</p> + +<p>So I turned in the direction of the cavalry barracks; but halfway +across the road I fell into the immeasurable crowd who captured me into +itself and bore towards the tollbooths. The people pressed to meet the +newly approaching rows. A stranger figure rode at the front; it was it is +an old Capuchin in habit and on a horse, in one hand a lance and the other +blessing people with a cross, who kissed his legs. Behind the Capuchin +followed a thousand archers from the Augustów forests. They had slung +double-barrelled guns and badger skin bags with claws and bared teeth, +whitening on green jackets. Another thousand villagers, armed with crooked +scythes and axes, brought up the rear of the procession. Never had the +entrance of the most beautiful regiments, even the entrance of Prince +Józef at the head of victorious legions, aroused such enthusiasm, as this, +with which the people of Warsaw greeted badger skin bags and bark clogs. +Now there wasn't applause, or smiles, but shouts, thundering hurrah! and +blessings, mixed with loud crying. Because the people, surprised by their +own instincts, could seize the noble and beautiful side of the image. At +the sight of these priests, of these farmers who had left monastic cells +and their forests, in order to beat the enemies of the homeland, people +understood the whole horror of danger, and also comprehended with complete +trust that it was the only means of defense.</p> + +<p>I was overcome by a sudden temptation to steal immediately behind the +scythe or double-barrelled gun and to join the row with the peasants in +order to share with them the triumphant entry to the capital. But how to +do it? how to fit myself in with the bold and taunting movements of +Mazowian scythe-bearers, or the grim expressions and wild shooters from +the Nieman? How to match them in the height and breadth of their backs? +amongst these giants I would look like a rabbit among wolves. So what will +I do with myself? Should I be a Krakus, or a grenadier! This uncertainty +cost me dearly.</p> + +<p>A colonel of my acquaintance met me in passing, and patting me on the +shoulder, said: <q>I am in command of a guerrilla unit; some of my people +have already left for the field, I myself am setting off today from +Warsaw, I need gunners; perhaps you know where I can find them?</q></p> + +<p><q>I know about one,</q> I said, assuming a military posture; <q>you +need a gunner, here you have him!</q></p> + +<p><q>Agreed!</q> the colonel said, <q>put on a uniform and be at my place +this evening at ten o'clock exactly, do you understand?</q></p> + +<p>Soldiers were being recruited in this manner during the uprising. That +day at eleven at night I marched in uniform by the cannons. During the +march we trained ourselves in the use of weapons, and I added so much +urgency, that after three days I was appointed sergeant and a cannon was +placed under my orders. The envious claimed that I had owed my rank to the +colonel's peculiar considerations.</p> + +<p>After all, I myself was surprised, confused and almost ashamed at such +a sudden promotion. My head spun and only after a few hours of +astonishment did I start to feel the influence of my new dignity. +Involuntarily I adopted a martial and more serious face; having gravely +stretched my right hand, I laid it on my property, on the muzzle of the +cannon. This large piece of bronze, I thought to myself, will be a pillar +in the temple of my fame; will be the first step in my knightly +profession, or perhaps even lead me to the throne! A well aimed cannon +often settles the fate of a war. And how did Napoleon get his start, if +not as a gunner? Full of these dreams I fell in love with my bronze cannon +as if with a young girl and from then on I was always beside her. I +examined her defects and attributes, I debated character and got to know +most precisely her entire composition and nature; physical as moral. She +is so well engraved in my memory, that I could paint her portrait from +memory. I knew sound of her voice so well that I could have recognised it +amongst the roar of the liveliest cannonade, even if it were Leipzig, or +Ostrołęka. My beloved cannon! what happened to you? into whose hands did +you fall? Certainly nobody will caress you as I did… Only that thought +comforts me. She was admittedly a little eight pounder, but to me she was +huge, as she was pregnant with my entire future. As well as well settled, +simple to manoeuvre and with a strangely accurate shot. A whole day was +barely enough for me in fulfilling my duties by the beloved cannon, and at +night I didn't stop thinking about the object of my love. And so, one +night I dreamed of battle, and who did I see opposite me? Field Marshall +von Diebitsch! At once I take aim—poof! and my cannon ball cuts him in +two. I took off, to tear off his head and carry it still warm to our +Commander-in-Chief, Prince Radziwiłł; but the corpse of von Diebitsch was +so heavily defended, that until I awoke completely into reality, instead +of the head of the Muscovite leader, I held the head of the gunner +sleeping opposite me. Another night a worse thing happened to me: I +dreamed that the Muscovite cavalry fell on us unexpectedly; they killed me +in advance, then cut down my gunners, and finally a Muscovite cuirassier +mounted my cannon like a horse and started to plug it, looking at me with +contemptuous eyes. Then I felt all the torments of the husband of Lucretia +and the torments of the father of Virginia. Although I was already a cold +and stiff corpse, nevertheless I gathered all my strength to give some +sign of life and adjusting to myself, I managed at last to scream so +strongly, that I both woke myself and alarmed the entire camp. Having +jumped to my feet, and just as day was beginning to break, my eyes seek my +cannon and I see with no little joy, that she's there, that she sits free +and calm on her carriage.</p> + +<p>Her open jaws seemed to draw the coolness of the morning, and the +gleaming surface reflected the first rays of sunshine. I lay down again on +the wet ground, but this time as a precaution I held on to a spoke.</p> + +<p>So passed a whole week, my first week after marrying the beautiful +eight pounder: the honeymoon of an artillery sergeant, the happiest week +of my life! I kept busy every moment, in the belief that I had already +achieved the purpose of my existence in world; my soul went completely +into the beloved cannon.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile we drew closer and closer to the banks of the Vistula; ice +was already giving way in many places and here and there you could see +water appearing. Our colonel, with a long pole in his hand, was first to +go through the ice, wading in the water up to his knees, then he ordered +us to follow him. Follow him with our cannons over such weak ice? At this +order I went pale as death, because our entire military future could +drown. In the end we passed happily and we stopped on the opposite bank +with the shout: Long live Poland!</p> + +<p>That same evening saw the joining of the corps, with the front sent +from Warsaw. They awaited us impatiently; because young soldiers have an +elevated opinion of the power of artillery, and it worried them very much +that on the eve of the expected battle they had no cannons. Having heard +the rattle of cannon wheels, the whole camp lost possession of itself in +joy: <q>our artillery approaches! Long live the artillery!</q> they called from +all sides and ran to meet us, and placed us in the centre of the camp.</p> + +<p>We also enthusiastically greeted our comrades. Until then marching in +loneliness, now we were in a crowd of brave soldiers, whose number gave +itself significance to the eye. That raised our confidence. Only +altogether there weren't more than twelve squadrons, filling a wide area. +Proudly we looked at a forest of stuck lances, on which new flags sparkled +with colours, still not knowing blood or dust. After a cheerful and grand +supper we lay down to sleep, swung with the sound of military music and +the singing of the mazurka.</p> + +<p>At dawn, when our corps entered the village, mixed shouts reached us. +We pulled in; they sent for reconnaissance and it turned out that these +were shouts of victory! The first triumph! You should have seen, how +pleased we were with them. These Cossacks, bearded, disarmed, walked with +heads lowered and with sour expressions. As they went by us, our young +soldiers jeered at them, cursed or threatened. And I had a desire to do +the same, but the duty attached to the rank didn't permit it, so severely +reprimanding them, I said: <q>Poles! respect misfortune! The fate of war is +often doubtful! Death to our enemies! Mercy to the conquered! Long live +Poland!</q></p> + +<p>The soldiers calmed down, taken aback by the nobility of my emotions +and sententious eloquence. For some time my attention turned to one old +gunner, riding beside me, who constantly climbed in his stirrups, lifted +his head, neck craned over the shoulders of his comrades.</p> + +<p><q>What are you looking at, Mateusz?</q></p> + +<p><q>At those beasts, sergeant, may the hangman take them</q>… and +pointed his finger at hills, which were ahead of us. I saw then, how something +was blackening the hilltop. Where they bushes, or the caps of the Muscovite +infantry? I didn't have time to look longer, because the officers came running, +calling with all their might: <q>Forward artillery! stand in position!</q> We +moved, every horse jumping. A cannon shot and the ball, having killed one of +our horses, rained earth on us and flew onwards, ricocheting. We occupied the +hill, directly opposite the enemy, who doubled fire.</p> + +<p>A wide plain, surrounded by bushes and forest, stretched before us. In the +centre of it, on the hill, rolled a Muscovite battery of twelve heavy gauge +cannons who powdered us with cannon balls and grenades. Behind the battery you +could see thick ranks of cavalry, standing motionless. Our cavalry similarly +stood calmly, leaving time for the operations of the artillery.</p> + +<p>I noticed that soldiers of different weapons throughout the battle preserved +the stance and the facial expression characteristic of themselves. And as the +artilleryman has neither the cavalry's extravagance, nor the infantry's +impatience, but attentive to command, fast and accurate amid all the commotion, +appearing calm, though his eyes burned with the smoke, bloodshot, eyebrows +furrowed, face pale, mouth clenched, speech short and hard, expressing fierce, +suppressed and concentrated fury.</p> + +<p>In the middle of this fire, even though death swept past their heads, they +didn't stop making jokes; every time each cannon ball ricocheted, the young +soldiers made a point of talking to it, and to give it advice. A ricocheting +cannon ball can be seen from afar, as it jumps across the field, so if it was +going to one side, to the left, they were calling to it: <q>Where are you going, +blind man! get to the right!</q> and if it was going straight, they encouraged +it: <q>good, good!</q> and so they spoke to it until it fell right in the +middle of the enemy line and then they were applauding it.</p> + + +<p>I don't know now, how many hours that cannonade lasted. Although we + +passed each other feverishly beside the cannon, in the same way this play + +lasted too long, to not wish for nightfall. The Russian artillery had an + +obvious advantage over us, both in numbers, and in cannon gauge. They had + +already hit a few of our people, many were wounded, but everyone, although + +extremely tired, equally didn't sink in spirits and nobody even thought + +about retreat.</p> + +<p>Suddenly from the left cannons roared horribly. The Muscovites had + +placed a new battery right there, which fired at us from the side. We + +turned two of our cannons against this new threat, with whom we needed to + +chat; but our position was becoming more and more unpleasant, because six + +field cannons to answer twenty heavy gauge cannons is no small matter! Our + +soldiers, at the sight of this imbalance of power, seemed to be stirred. + +Now their movements weakened, now our shots happened less frequently, and + +what's more the anecdotes and jokes ceased completely.</p> + +<p>It seems that our commander was waiting until the Muscovites separated + +their forces, in order to profit from that moment and strike them; I + +suppose, although they aren't tempting themselves to debate the battle + +plan. I only know that at the most critical moment we heard from the left + +a horse's hoofbeat, rushing at a gallop and a few minutes later that + +second battery went silent, when it was conquered.</p> + +<p>Our commander turned around and dashed to the main strength of our + +troops, calling: <q>Forward at a trot! everyone forward!</q> And our entire + +cavalry, drawn up in two rows, moved out, passing our battery. <q>They're + +going to charge!</q> cried our gunners and at once we ceased firing. How did + +it look? The young lancers with eager gaze, fevered face, burst + +impatiently forward, but advised or unadvised they still needed to obey + +the strict orders of the commander, who still repeated: <q>Trot! forward! + +trot!</q> You could see from the movement of the flags, how feverishly the + +soldiers' hands were twitching. In the end the trumpets sounded, flags + +descended and now they kicked themselves off towards the enemy. <q>Forward! + +Gallop! everyone forward!</q></p> + +<p>They took off—we stayed by our cannons, doing nothing, and even + +thinking nothing. The artillery recently so busy and noisy, now seemed to + +be petrified. Our souls flew far and rested on the tips of the lances. Now + +the Muscovites are close! Already the Muscovite ranks are deploying, in + +order to receive them. The gunners climbed on the gun carriages, on the + +ammunition carts and stare into space, looking ahead with gaping mouths; + +it was so quiet that you could hear the flight of a fly. Each of us felt, + +that on this clash hung our fate, the fate of our army, perhaps even our + +homeland! It was a moment of expectation and terrible uncertainty, luckily + +lasting only a few minutes. Our cavalry clashed with the Muscovites on the + +high ground, both lines clashed with each other and mixed.</p> + +<p>In the whole of this mass it boiled and the whole mass disappeared, + +like a dust cloud driven by the wind.</p> + +<p>I don't know who, but someone among us shouted at the top of his + +lungs—that shout broke the deathly silence, because he proclaimed + +victory, however nobody accompanied him. Because we, young soldiers, still + +we weren't understanding, nor guessing the outcome of this battle, but + +besides that we feared to yield to premature joy. <q>Wait!</q> someone or other + +said—<q>as yet there's nothing certain; nothing to be seen, everyone + +seems to have disappeared!</q></p> + +<p>Finally, the part of the mass that we could see, as it vanished from + +our sight, started to come towards us. By their colours we recognised our + +lancers and by the war cry: Poland Is Not Yet Lost.<note place='foot'><p> +The first line of <q>Dąbrowski's Mazurka</q>, now the National Anthem of +Poland. +</p></note></p> + +<p>Now there's no doubt, victory is ours! The approaching mass presented a + +peculiar spectacle. In it you could see a lot of foot soldiers with + +diverse weapons, in addition wagons, ammunition carts, artillery + +pieces… There were Muscovite prisoners, captured with the artillery + +and the whole encampment.</p> + +<p>I wouldn't be able to describe our joy, this frantic joy! How can it + +be! their whole artillery! this mighty artillery in our hands. We rushed + +headlong upon these cans, pressing them, caressing them, and I myself for + +a moment forgot about my love, the eight-pounder.</p> + +<p>Beautiful they were, these Russian cannons, so huge, new, well mounted + +and stocked with everything.</p> + +<p><q>Look, sergeant</q> the gunner Mateusz called out <q>look at + +what red, shining cannons these cursed Muscovites<note place='foot'><p> +Untranslatable: Mateusz here uses the non-human form, echoing his +earlier use of <q>beasts</q> +</p></note> have!</q></p> + +<p>I started with a delicate hand to stroke the polished bronze surface, + +and everyone repeated in chorus: <q>Oh, but how these muscovite cans do + +shine!</q> <q>and what a calibre</q> noticed one gunner, <q>that's the calibre for + +me!</q> <q>that's no peashooter!</q></p> + +<p>I started measuring the muzzle of the cannon, and the soldiers + +repeated: <q>those jaws are no joke!</q></p> + +<p>Then, when we started examining the harness, then again they called as + +a choir: <q>Oh, what sturdy straps those cursed Muscovites have!</q></p> + +<p>Nobody will guess in the end, what caused us the greatest joy; it was + +none other than ordinary oats, taken as spoils. Our cavalry didn't have + +any more fodder, but the Muscovites had it in ample amounts; their wagons, + +caissons, gun carriages even, were full of oats. Soldiers rushed on them + +hungrily, filling sacks with them, cartridge cases, pockets, and saying + +that they had never seen such beautiful oats.</p> + +<p>The leader rode up and at the sight of him a shout of enthusiasm and + +worship thundered. Perhaps he was very tired, because despite a cool day, + +sweat flowed from him in drops.</p> + +<p>We surrounded him in a dense crowd. Amid the general commotion and + +bursts of joy, he alone was calm and silent, though visibly moved.</p> + +<p><q>My children,</q> he said to us, <q>I promised to lead you to the enemy; you + +promised to beat him—and so both you and I have kept our words.</q></p> + +<p>Such was our memorable day at Stoczek. With night falling stories began + +by the camp's bonfires, there were no listeners, because everyone spoke; + +everyone bravely acquitted themselves in battle, everyone had + +jokes—because everyone was happy.</p> + +<p>If that blessed hour comes to me, that I can again fight for my + +country, to see the Muscovite army in panic, to seek out my beloved eight + +pounder and to hurl cannon balls from it at golden roofs of the Tsarist + +capital city, then I will call myself happy; but even then I wouldn't be + +able to feel that, which I experienced in the first battle, in the + +memorable Battle of Stoczek.</p> +</div> +<div> +<pgIf output="html"> + <then> + <div> + <divGen type="footnotes" /> + </div> + </then> +</pgIf> +<pgIf output="txt"> + <then> + <div> + <divGen type="footnotes" /> + </div> + </then> +</pgIf> +</div> +</body> + +<back> +<div rend="page-break-before: right"> + <divGen type="pgfooter"/> +</div> +</back> +</text> +</TEI.2>
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