The Young Franc Tireurs, and Their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War by Henty (fun to read .txt) 📗

square; drawing up near the edge of the wood, a hundred and fifty yards distant.

The charge of the second line was attended with precisely similar results. The instant that they had passed, however, Major Tempe shouted to his men:

"On again for the woods. Steady! Keep square. Reserve your fire till I tell you. We must break through the cavalry. They only want to keep us. Their infantry will be here in three minutes. They are through the village, already."

The position of the franc tireurs was now critical in the extreme. The enemy's cavalry--between them and safety, only a hundred yards distant--had unslung their carbines, and opened fire. The infantry were nearly two hundred yards behind but, fortunately, dared not fire for fear of hitting their own cavalry.

At a rapid pace--for they were running for life--the little knot of franc tireurs dashed forward. One or two fell from the fire of the cavalry and, as they were fifty yards distant from the wood, there was a cry and Philippe Duburg fell to the ground. In an instant Tim Doyle--who was his next man--stopped, caught him up as if he had been a feather and, with a desperate effort, again joined the others, just as they were within twenty yards of the cavalry.

"Fire!" Major Tempe cried; and from the front, and from each side of the little square--which was but six deep, either way--the rifles flashed out.

"Level bayonets; charge!"

There was a short struggle. The second ranks poured their fire into the cavalry line. There was a clashing of bayonets against swords, and then the band ran through the broken line of cavalry. There was a rush into the brushwood; and then, from behind the shelter of the trees, the fire opened again; and the cavalry fell sullenly back, having lost upwards of thirty men in that short five minutes since they had left the village.

The German infantry halted, at a distance of two hundred yards; but they would have lost too many men, in crossing the open, to make it worth while to attack the sheltered foe--who could pick them off, to the last moment, only to withdraw deeper into the forest when they approached its edge. Accordingly they too fell back, exchanging fire with the franc tireurs until they gained the shelter of the village.

The conflict over. The men sank, exhausted, upon the ground where they stood. Major Tempe went round to each; saying a word of praise, and giving a little of the brandy--with which he had filled his canteen, before starting--with some water from their own kegs. Then he gave a sharp whistle, and the men again gathered round him.

"Once more, lads, I must thank you for your conduct," he said. "You have defended yourselves against forces, altogether, four times your own. You fairly kept at bay an infantry force of twice your own number. You have withstood a charge of cavalry, also double your own strength; and have performed the unusual feat of successfully charging cavalry. You have inflicted a very heavy loss upon the enemy. Not less than forty of the infantry must have been placed hors de combat; and fifteen or twenty of the cavalry, at the lowest estimate. Altogether, although forced to fall back, the affair is more creditable than many a brilliant victory.

"Our own loss has been heavy--as heavy, in proportion to our numbers, as that of the enemy--though, owing to an advantage of position, while engaged with the infantry, it is actually far less than theirs. Still, lads, it is very, very heavy," and the major looked round, with a saddened face, on the diminished band.

"Our only consolation is that our friends have died doing their duty, and setting a noble example. If all Frenchmen were but animated with a spirit like that which, I am proud to say, animates the franc tireurs of Dijon, there are few of the invaders who would ever recross the Rhine.

"Lieutenant Ribouville, go through the muster roll of the two companies. Our brave friend De Maupas has, alas! fallen. He was at my side when a rifle ball struck him, in the temple."

The list was now called over, and the result was a sad one. The two companies, including officers, had gone into the fight fifty-five strong. Only thirty-one answered to their names. Besides these, eight had been removed farther into the forest, severely wounded; and Philippe Duburg lay a short distance off--the surgeon being employed bandaging his leg, which a rifle ball had entered, above the knee. Fifteen, therefore, were dead or missing--which, as the Germans bayoneted all wounded franc tireurs, was the same thing. Of the thirty-one who answered to their names, nine had wounds more or less severe; and the surgeon, with his assistants, had work on his hands which would take him far into the night.

The instant that they were dismissed from parade, the boys hurried to their cousin. He was very pale from loss of blood, but was perfectly sensible. His brother sat on a bench beside him, holding his head on his knee.

Philippe smiled faintly as the boys came up.

"I am so glad you have escaped," he said, in a low voice.

They clasped his hand.

"Does it hurt you much, Philippe?"

"Not very much; not so much as I should have thought."

"Did the doctor say anything about it, Philippe?"

"Yes, he said that it had just missed the great arteries; and that he thinks it struck the bone, and has glanced up somewhere; but he can't say till he probes it, when--"

"Then your leg is not broken?"

"No, he says it is certainly not broken, but it may be splintered."

"Thank God for that, anyhow," the boys said.

"We owe his life to Tim Doyle," Louis said. "I was not next to him; and did not see him fall, or know he was hit till I saw Tim come up, with him on his shoulders--and even if I had, I could not have lifted him, and carried him off. Tim saved his life. There is no doubt about that."

As it was evident that Philippe was too weak to talk, and would be better for being quiet awhile, the boys now left him with his brother.

Looking through the trees towards the village, a dense smoke could now be seen rising in several places and, in a few minutes, the whole village was in a blaze. Moved by the sight, the unfortunate inhabitants came out from their hiding places in the forest; wringing their hands, crying, and cursing the invaders. In spite of the advice of Major Tempe, several of the women went off towards the scene of conflagration, to endeavor to save some little household treasure from the flames. In a short time one of them returned to fetch her husband, saying that the enemy had all left before they reached the village, and were already far down the hillside. Major Tempe at once sent forward the unwounded men; to assist the villagers to put out the fire, and to save property. Their efforts were, however, altogether unavailing; the Germans had scattered large quantities of petroleum, before leaving, upon the beds and such other furniture as they could not carry away, or destroy.

It was a pitiable sight to see the poor homeless people sitting about, looking at the ruins of their houses. Some cried piteously; others gazed with listless faces, but with a cold despair even more painful to see. Fortunately, they had saved all their animals but, at present, they were too much absorbed in the thoughts of what they had lost, to bestow even a thought of satisfaction on what they had saved.

Major Tempe, grieved and touched at the painful scene of which he and his men had been the cause, called the franc tireurs together; and made a proposition to them, which was at once heartily agreed to. He then called together the cure and schoolmaster and--after a few well-chosen words of regret, at the ills which he and his had involuntarily brought upon the village--he handed over to them, in the name of the whole corps, the hundred pounds in thaler notes which had been found upon the schoolmaster whom they had executed for treachery; to be distributed among the inhabitants, according to their necessities.

The offer was gratefully received, and the priest and schoolmaster at once went round and told the poor people, whose gratitude and delight were unbounded. To so poor a population, the sum seemed immense; and although it would not replace what was destroyed, it would go far towards making their abodes habitable. The village only contained about twenty houses. The walls were still standing. Timber for the roofs and floors was to be had for cutting, in the forest. Bushes for thatching could be found in abundance. The principal portion of the houses, therefore, would cost only labor, and this money would suffice to keep them alive, while engaged upon it; and enough would remain to get at least a few blankets to lay upon the straw--which would, for the time, serve for beds--together with a few other simple necessaries. The sale of a portion of the animals would do the rest and, in their gratitude to the franc tireurs, for having thus relieved their first and most pressing difficulties, the inhabitants altogether forgot the ill-feeling which they had before felt against them, as the authors of their disaster.

After burying their dead, the men set to work to assist the villagers in building temporary huts--or rather bowers--to the edge of the forest; in which, before nightfall, they had the satisfaction of seeing them installed. The few articles of bedding, blankets, etc. saved at the approach of the Prussians were spread on heaps of freshly-cut grass; and one of the oxen of the franc tireurs, which had arrived the day before, was killed and divided. Great fires were lighted and--had it not been for the bandages on the heads, and the arms in slings of several of the franc tireurs--no one coming upon the scene would have guessed how desperate a skirmish had raged here.

The next day the carts which had been sent for arrived; and the wounded were placed in them, upon heaps of straw, and sent off with one of the surgeons; with instructions to travel among the hills, until they reached a point where it would be quite safe to descend into the valley, and take the train to Dijon, at the first station at which it was open. Among them was Philippe Duburg, who was accompanied by his brother. Louis had obtained a week's leave of absence, for the purpose; and was the bearer of letters, and innumerable messages, from the boys to their parents and sisters. A few hours later, the remnants of the first and second companies marched to join their comrades.

Chapter 10: The Bridge Of The Vesouze.

The very day after the fight, news arrived which induced a sudden change of position. Upon the Sixteenth of September the Baden troops occupied Mulhouse, having entered Colmar on the preceding day. It was evident that the railway was so strongly guarded, between Strasburg and Nancy, that it was hopeless to expect to be able to interrupt it, seriously, with so small a force as that at Major Tempe's command; still less possible was it to render any assistance, whatever, to the doomed city of Strasburg. After taking counsel, therefore, with his officers, Major Tempe decided to march more to the south; so as to assist to oppose the passage of the enemy west from Colmar, or Mulhouse, through the passes of the Vosges.

The alarm was, however, but temporary for, having made requisitions as usual, the Prussians retired; and the corps returned to their old quarters. There another ten days passed; spent not in ease, but in constant marchings and counter-marchings. Whenever news arrived that any parties of Uhlans were approaching the mountains, with the object of making requisitions, the corps were instantly set in motion. Sometimes severe skirmishes were the result. Sometimes the news turned out to be untrue and, after a long day's march, and a night spent watching, the men had nothing to do but to march back again.

Upon the 28th came the news of the surrender of Strasburg, upon the preceding day, after one of the most heroic defenses in history. There was now no doubt that the Germans would, ere long, advance seriously. By this time, the total of the French forces among the Vosges mountains was considerable. Scarce a day passed without the arrival of a corps of franc tireurs and--had all these corps been animated with a spirit such as that evinced by the franc tireurs of Dijon; and had they acted in unity, with discipline and intelligence--they might have rendered immense services to France.

Unfortunately, this was very far from being the case. Very many of the men had entered the ranks only to avoid being called upon to go out with the Mobiles--or mobilized national guard. Others had only entered from the impulse of the moment. Very many were altogether unwilling to submit to any steady