Henty George Alfred
The Young Franc Tireurs, and Their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War
They passed across the bridge of boats, without question; and into the railway station, which is just opposite its end. Here soldiers and other officials swarmed; but the three walked along carelessly, the two boys chatting together in German, Tim walking with his hand up to his face, and giving an occasional stamp of pain. He sat down with Percy on a seat in the station, while Ralph went to the little window where tickets were being delivered. There were a good many people waiting and, when it came to Ralph's turn, and he put the papers in at the window, and asked for three third-class tickets to Wiesbaden, the clerk scarcely glanced at them; but handed the tickets over, without a question.
They then went into the third-class waiting room, and sat down. There were a good many peasants, and others there; and when the doors opened for them to go on to the platform, and enter the carriages, they saw it was hopeless to try and get a carriage to themselves. They did, therefore, the best they could; putting Tim next to the window, while Percy sat next to, and Ralph opposite to him. The rest of the compartment was filled with country people.
"He seems in great pain," a good-natured peasant woman said, to Ralph; as Tim rocked himself backwards and forwards, in his anguish.
"Yes, he is very bad," Ralph said.
"Toothache?" asked the woman.
"Worse than that," Ralph said, gravely, "an abscess in the jaw. He has just been to the hospital."
"Poor fellow!" the woman said. "Why does he not poultice it?
"I should advise you to poultice," she said, addressing Tim.
Tim gave a grunt–which might have meant anything–and Ralph said, in a whisper:
"Don't talk to him. Poor uncle, he is so bad tempered, now, it puts him in a rage if anyone speaks to him; because it hurts him so, to answer. At ordinary times, he is very good tempered; but now, oh!" and Ralph made a little pantomime, to express the extreme badness of Tim's temper.
"You are not of Wiesbaden, are you?" the woman asked. "I do not know you by sight."
"No," Ralph said; "we are from Holzhausen, a village some eight miles upon the other side of Wiesbaden."
"Ah!" the woman said, "I have a sister living there; surely you must know her. She is the wife of Klopstock, the carpenter."
"Surely," Ralph said, "she is my neighbor; everyone knows her. She is very like you."
"Well now, you are the first person who has ever said that," the woman said, surprised. "I am so short, and she is so tall."
"Yes, she is tall–very tall," Ralph said, very gravely; "but there is something about the expression of your eyes which reminds me of Mrs. Klopstock.
"Yes, the more I look at you, the more I see it," and Ralph looked so earnestly, at the woman, that Percy had the greatest difficulty in preventing himself going off into a shout of laughter.
"I wonder I have never seen you, at Holzhausen," Ralph continued.
"Well," the woman said, "it is years since I have been there. You see, it is a long way, and my sister often comes into Wiesbaden, and I see her; but in truth, her husband and I don't get on very well together. You know his temper is–" and she lifted up her hands.
"Yes, indeed," Ralph said. "His temper is, as you say, terrible. Between ourselves, it is so well known that we have a saying, 'As bad tempered as Klopstock the carpenter.' One can't say more than that–
"But we are at Wiesbaden. Good morning."
"Good morning. I hope your uncle's tooth will be better, ere long."
"I hope so, indeed, for all our sakes," Ralph said. "He is as bad as Klopstock, at present."
So saying, they got out of the train and walked into the town. When they had separated from the crowd, Percy could restrain himself no longer, and went off into a scream of laughter.
"What is it, Mister Percy?" Tim asked, opening his lips for the first time since they had left the house.
"Oh, Tim, if you had but heard!" Percy said, when he recovered his voice. "Do you know you are as bad tempered as Klopstock, the carpenter?"
"Sure, I never heard tell of him, Mister Percy; and if I have been bad tempered, I haven't said much about it; and if the carpenter had a wad of cotton as big as a cricket ball in one cheek, as I have, it's small blame to him if he was out of temper."
Both the boys laughed, this time; and then Ralph explained the whole matter to Tim, who laughed more heartily than either of them.
"Which way shall we go, Ralph?"
"I looked at the map, the last thing before starting, Percy; and I noticed that the road went out past the gambling place. I dare not take out the map again, to look at the plan of the town–it would look too suspicious–so let us wander about, till we find the place. It has large grounds, so we cannot miss it."
They were not long in finding the place they were looking for. There was no mistaking it; with its long arcades leading up to the handsome conversation rooms, its piece of water, and its beautifully laid-out grounds.
"I should like to go in, and have a look at it," Percy said. "I can hear the band playing, now."
"So should I," Ralph said, "but time is too precious. They will find out at the muster, this afternoon, that we are missing and, as we answered this morning, they will know that we cannot have got far. We had better put as many miles between us as we can.
"First of all, though, let us put those papers Christine got us into the envelope, and drop them into that post box. We should not do badly, either, to buy three dark-colored blankets before we start. It is terribly cold; and we shall want them, at night."
They therefore turned up into the town again; and then Ralph separated from the others, and went in and bought the blankets. Ten minutes later they were walking along, at a steady pace, from the town. Each carried a stick. The boys carried theirs upon their shoulder; with a bundle, containing a change of clothes and other articles, slung upon it. Tim carried his bundle in one hand, and walked using his stick in the other. When a short distance out of the town, they stopped in a retired place; and put some strips of plaster upon Tim's cheeks, and wrapped up his face with a white bandage. It was, as he said, "mighty uncomfortable," but as he was now able to dispense with the ball of cotton in his mouth, he did not so much mind it.
The day was bitterly cold, for it was now the beginning of the second week of November; but the party strode on, full of the consciousness of freedom. They met but few people, upon their way; and merely exchanged a brief good day with those they did meet. They had brought some bread and cold meat with them, from Mayence; and therefore had no need to go into any shops, at the villages they passed.
They did not dare to sleep in a house, as it was certain that some official would inquire for their papers; and therefore, when it became dark, they turned off from the road and made for a wood, at a short distance from it. Here they ate their supper, laid a blanket on the ground, put the bundles down for pillows, and lay down close together, putting the other two blankets over them.
"It's mighty cold," Tim said, "but we might be worse."
"It's better than a prison in Pomerania, by a long way," Ralph answered. "By the look of the sky, and the dropping of the wind, I think we shall have snow before morning."
At daybreak, next morning, they were up; but it was some little time before they could start, so stiffened were their limbs with the cold. Ralph's prognostication as to the weather had turned out right, and a white coating of snow lay over the country. They now set off and walked, for an hour, when they arrived at a large village. Here it was agreed they should go in, and buy something to eat. They entered the ale house, and called for bread, cheese, and beer.
The landlord brought it and, as they expected, entered into conversation with them. After the first remarks–on the sharpness of the weather–Ralph produced a tin of portable soup, and asked the landlord if he would have it heated, for their uncle.
"He cannot, as you see, eat solid food," Ralph said; "He had his jaw broken by a shell, at Woerth."
"Poor fellow!" the landlord said, hastening away with the soup.
"Are you going far?" he asked, on his return.
"To Saint Goar," Ralph said.
"But why does he walk?" the landlord asked. "He could have been sent home, by train."
"Of course he could," Ralph said. "We walked over to see him, and intended to have walked back again; but when the time came for us to start, he said he would come, too. The surgeon said he was not fit to go. Uncle had made up his mind to be off and, as the surgeon would not give him an order, he started to walk. He says it does not hurt him so much as the jolting of the train, and we shall be home to breakfast."
An hour later they arrived at Saint Goarshaus. They were now quite out of the track which prisoners escaping from Mayence would be likely to take, and had not the slightest difficulty in getting a boat to cross the Rhine.
"How beautiful the river is, here," Percy said.
"Yes it is, indeed," Ralph answered. "I believe that this is considered one of the most lovely spots on the whole river. I can't say that I think that that railway, opposite, improves it."
They landed at Saint Goar, and tramped gaily on to Castellan, and slept in a barn near that village.
The next morning they were off before daybreak and, eight miles farther, crossed the Moselle at Zell. They left the road before they arrived at Alf; for they were now approaching the great road between Coblentz and the south, and might come upon bodies of troops upon the march, or halting; and might be asked troublesome questions. They therefore struck upon a country lane and, keeping among the hills, crossed the main road between Bertrich and Wittlech; and slept in a copse, near Dudeldf. They had walked five-and-thirty miles, and were so dead beat that even the cold did not keep them awake.
Next morning they got a fresh supply of bread and cheese, at a tiny village between Dudeldf and Bittburg and, leaving the latter place to the left, made straight for the frontier, across the hills. The road to the frontier ran through Bittburg; but they were afraid of keeping to it, as there were sure to be troops at the frontier. Several times they lost their way; but the pocket compass and map, which they had brought with them, stood them in good stead and, late in the evening, they arrived at the stream which forms the frontier. It was, fortunately, very low; for the cold had frozen up its sources. They had, therefore, little difficulty in crossing and, tired as they were, gave a cheer upon finding themselves in Luxembourg.
They tramped along merrily, until they came to a cottage; where they boldly entered, and were received with the greatest kindness, and hospitality. The Luxembourg people at once feared and hated Prussia, and were delighted to do anything in their power for the escaped prisoners. The peasant made a blazing fire, and some hot coffee; and the tired travelers felt what a blessing it was to sit down without listening, every moment, for the step of an enemy.
The peasants told them, however, that they were not yet altogether safe for that, owing to the complaints of Prussia, both the Dutch and Belgian Governments were arresting, and detaining, escaped prisoners passing through their territories. After some discussion the boys agreed that, next morning, they should dress themselves in the change of clothes they had brought–which were ordinary shooting suits–and should leave their other clothes behind; and then walk as far as Spa, twenty miles to the north. They would excite no suspicion in the minds of anyone who saw them arrive; as they would merely be taken for three Englishmen, staying at one of the numerous hotels there, returning from a walk. Their feet however were so much swollen, the next morning, that they were glad to remain another day quiet in the cottage; and the following day they started, and walked gaily into Spa.
After strolling about the place, some time, they went to the railway station at the time the evening train started for Brussels; asked for tickets–in very English French–and, at eleven o'clock at night, entered Brussels. Here their troubles were over. A good night's rest, in a good hotel, completely set them up again and, the next morning, they left by train for Dunkirk.
There they reported themselves to the French officer in command; and received permission to go on board a Government steamer which was to leave, the next morning, for Cherbourg.
Chapter 14: A Perilous Expedition
Upon the eleventh of November the boys arrived at Tours. They had started for that place, as the national headquarters, the moment they arrived at Cherbourg. At Tours men's hopes were high for, a week before, Aurelles de Paladine had driven back Von der Tann, and reoccupied Orleans. Every hour fresh troops were arriving, and passing forwards. The town was literally thronged with soldiers, of all sorts: batteries of artillery, regiments of cavalry, squadrons of Arab Spahis–looking strangely out of place in their white robes, and unmoved countenance, in this scene of European warfare–franc tireurs, in every possible variety of absurd and unsuitable uniform.
In all this din and confusion, the young Barclays felt quite bewildered. The first thing was, evidently, to get new uniforms; then to report themselves. There was no difficulty about the former matter, for every tailor in Tours had, for the time being, turned military outfitter and, by dint of offering to pay extra, their uniforms were promised for the next morning. That matter settled, they determined to go at once to the Prefecture, and report themselves.
As they turned out of the crowded Rue Royal, they received two hearty slaps on the shoulder, which almost knocked them down; while a hearty voice exclaimed:
"My dear boys, I am glad to see you!"
They looked round and–to their astonishment and delight–saw Colonel Tempe. For a minute or two, the hand shakings and greetings were so hearty that no questions could be asked.
"I thought a German prison would not hold you long, boys," the colonel said. "I saw your father, as I came through Dijon; and I said to him that I should be surprised if you did not turn up soon, especially when I heard from him that you were at Mayence, only two days' tramp from the frontier."
"But what are you doing here, colonel?"
"Just at present, I am working at headquarters. Between ourselves, the army of the east is coming round to join Aurelles. Our poor fellows were pretty nearly used up, and I found that I could do little real good with the other corps. So I gave up the command; and was sent here to confer with Gambetta, and he has kept me.
"Now, what are you going to do?"
"We were going to report ourselves, colonel."
"No use going today–too late. Come and dine with me, at the Bordeaux. Have you got rooms?"
"Not yet, colonel."
"Then I can tell you you won't get them, at all. The place is crowded–not a bed to be had, for love or money. I've got rooms, by the greatest good luck. One of you can have the sofa; the other an armchair, or the hearth rug, whichever suits you best."
"Thank you, very much; we shall do capitally," the boys said.
"And now, have you any news from Paris?"
"We have no late news from Paris but, worse still, the news gets very slowly and irregularly into Paris. The pigeons seem to get bewildered with the snow, or else the Prussians shoot them."
"But surely, with such an immense circle to guard, there could be no great difficulty in a messenger finding his way in?"
"There is a difficulty, and a very great one," Colonel Tempe said; "for of all who have tried, only one or two have succeeded. Now come along, or we shall be late for dinner."
It was a curious medley at the table d'hote, at the Hotel de Bordeaux. Generals, with their breasts covered with orders, and simple franc tireurs; officers, of every arm of the service; ministers and members of the late Corps Legislatif; an American gentleman, with his family; English newspaper correspondents; army contractors; and families, refugees from Paris. After dinner they went to a cafe–literally crowded with officers–and thence to Colonel Tempe's rooms, where they sat down quietly, to chat over what had taken place since the last visit.
"But where is your Irishman? Your father told me he was with you. I suppose you could not get him out."
"Oh yes, Tim's here," Ralph said, laughing, "but he ran across a couple of Irishmen belonging to the foreign legion and–as he would have been in our way, and we did not know where we were going to sleep–we gave him leave till to-morrow morning, when he is to meet us in front of the railway station."
"By the way, boys, I suppose you know you have each got a step?"
"No," the boys cried. "Really?"
"Yes, really," the colonel said. "That good fellow, Cambriels, sent in a strong report in your favor upon resigning his command; rehearsing what you did with us, and requesting that the step might be at once given to you. As a matter of course it was, in the next Gazette."
"Of course, we feel pleased, colonel; but it seems absurd, so young as we are. Why, if we go on like this, in another six months we may be majors."
"In ordinary times it would be absurd, lads; and it would not be possible for you to hold the grade you do now–still less higher ones–unless you understood thoroughly your duty. At the present moment, everything is exceptional. A man who, perhaps, only served a few months in the army, years ago, is made a general, and sent to organize a camp of new levies. Of course, he could not command these troops in the field, could not even drill them on the parade ground. But that is of no matter. He has a talent for organization, and therefore is selected to organize the camp and, to enable him to do so efficiently, he receives the nominal rank of general.
"In ordinary times a man could not get promoted–three or even four times, in as many weeks–over the heads of hundreds of others, without causing an immense amount of jealousy; without, in fact, upsetting the whole traditions of the army.
"Now, it is altogether different. The officers of the regular army are almost all prisoners. Everyone is new, everyone is unaccustomed to his work; and men who show themselves to be good men can be rewarded and promoted with exceptional rapidity, without exciting any feeling of jealousy, whatever. Besides which, the whole thing is provisional. When the war is over, everyone will either go back into private life or, if they continue to serve, will be gazetted into the regular army, according to some scale or other to be hereafter determined upon. Some inconveniences no doubt will arise, but they will hardly be serious.
"I was offered a general's rank, a month ago; but I declined it, as it would have entailed either my undertaking duties for which I am unfit; or setting to, to organize young levies, and giving up active service.
"No, if you go on as you have hitherto done, boys, you may be colonels in another six months; for when a name is recommended for promotion for good service, by a general, you may well suppose there is no question asked as to his age. Of course, no general would recommend you as captains to command companies in a regiment, because you are altogether ignorant of a captain's duty; but you are quite capable of filling the duties of captain, on the staff, as those duties require only clear headedness, pluck, attention, and common sense.
"What I should like to win, even more than a company–were I in your place–would be a commander's cross in the legion of honor. I had the cross, years ago; but I only had the commander's cross a fortnight ago, for the Bridge of Vesouze."
"Ah, yes," Ralph said, "that would be worth winning, but that is hopeless."
Colonel Tempe was silent. Ralph and Percy looked at him.
"You mean," Ralph said, after a pause, "that there is a chance of our winning it."
"Well, boys," Colonel Tempe said, "I don't know that I am right in leading you into danger, but I do think that you might win it. I was mentioning your names, only yesterday, to Gambetta. A dispatch had just come in from Paris, grumbling at receiving no news from the country; and Gambetta was lamenting over the impossibility of arranging for simultaneous movements, owing to the breakdown of the pigeons, and the failure of the messengers; when I said:
"'There were two young English fellows with us, in the Vosges–they were on Cambriels' staff last, and are now prisoners–who if they were here would, I believe, get in if anyone could. They went down, over and over again, among the Germans; and I could lay any money that they would succeed.'
"'How did they get taken prisoners?' Gambetta asked, as sharp as a knife.
"'By no fault of their own,' I answered. 'They went out on leave, to see me; and slept with a party of franc tireurs–where they of course had no authority, as to sentries–and the party was surprised, at night, and completely cut up. They were taken prisoners, but I do not expect that they will remain so for long.'
"Gambetta did not say anything, then; but when I left him, an hour afterwards, he remarked:
"'If you hear of those young fellows you were speaking of having returned, send them to me, Tempe.'"
Ralph looked at Percy, and checked the offer to go which he saw was on his brother's lips.
"I think it might be done, colonel," he said, quietly; "but it is a serious matter, and we will think it over, before we give an opinion."
Ralph then changed the subject, and they talked over the events which had happened in the Vosges, the strategy and maneuvers of General Michel, the arrival of Garibaldi, the doings of the franc tireurs, etc.
"By the way," the colonel said, "there was a telegram in, this evening–just as I left the office–that the Germans occupied Dijon, yesterday."
"You don't say so!" the boys said, jumping from their seats. "Was there any fighting?"
"Yes, some Mobiles and franc tireurs made a very plucky defense, outside the town. Owing to some gross mismanagement, the great bulk of the troops had been withdrawn, only the day before. After two or three hours' fighting, our men fell back; the Prussians, as usual, shelled the town; and the authorities surrendered."
"The fighting could not have been our side of the town," Ralph said, thoughtfully.
"No, just the other side," Colonel Tempe said. "As my wife is still at home, and our place is not many hundred yards from yours, that was the first thing I thought of."
"I wonder if papa was in the fight?" Percy said, anxiously.
"I should think it probable, boys, that my old friend would have gone out; but I do not think that you need be uneasy about it for, from what the telegram said, our loss was small. The troops fell back into the town, and retreated unmolested through it. So your father would, no doubt, have changed his things in the town, and have walked quietly back again.
"He had volunteered into the national guard, when I came last through Dijon; and was hard at work, drilling them. Of course, he had his old rank of captain."
At ten o'clock the boys said that they would go for a stroll, before lying down for the night. They were out upwards of an hour; and returned, at the end of that time, with serious but resolved faces. The colonel was out, when they returned; and found them stretched on the sofa and hearth rug, when he came in. They gave him a sleepy good night, and no other word was exchanged.
In the morning, they were up at eight o'clock. Colonel Tempe was already dressed, and they went out together to get their coffee and milk. As they were taking it, Ralph told him that they had made up their minds to make the attempt to enter Paris, with dispatches; but that they saw but one way to do so; and that, unless they could be furnished with the necessary papers, they should abandon all idea of the enterprise.
Ten minutes later, they entered the Prefecture. Colonel Tempe went in at once to see Gambetta, while the boys remained in the anteroom. In ten minutes their friend came out again, and beckoned to them to come into the next room.
"These are the Lieutenants Barclay," he said.
The boys bowed; and examined, with attentive curiosity, the man who was, at that time, the absolute ruler of France. A dark man; with a short black beard, keen eyes, and a look of self reliance and energy. A man who committed endless mistakes, but who was the life and soul of the French resistance. A man to whom–had he lived in olden times–the Romans would have erected a statue because, in her deepest misfortunes, he never despaired of the Republic.
He looked keenly at the young men.
"Colonel Tempe tells me that you have rendered very great service, by going among the enemy in disguise; and that you are willing to make an attempt to carry dispatches into Paris."
"We are ready to try," Ralph said, respectfully; "but after talking it over in every way, we can see but one disguise which would enable us to penetrate the enemy's lines, near enough to the ground between the two armies to render an attempt possible; and even that disguise will be useless, unless we can procure certain papers."
"What is your plan?" Monsieur Gambetta asked.
"We intend to go as German Jews," Ralph said. "The Prussians strip all the clocks, pictures, and furniture of any value from the villas they occupy, and send them back to Germany. There are a number of Jews who follow the army; and either buy these stolen goods from them, or undertake to convey them back to Germany at a certain price. Several of these Jews–with their wagons full of clocks, and other articles–have been captured by our franc tireurs or troops and, no doubt, papers of some kind have been found upon them. These papers would naturally be sent here. If we could be provided with them we could, I have little doubt, penetrate their lines."
"An excellent idea," the minister said. "I have no doubt that we have such papers."
And he struck a small hand bell on the table. An attendant entered.
"Tell Captain Verre I wish to speak to him."
"Captain Verre," he said, when that officer entered, "there were some papers came last week, from General Faidherbe, relative to those wagons–laden with clocks, ladies' dresses, and so on–that were captured near Mezieres. Just look through them, and see if there were any German permits for the bearers to pass freely, for the purpose of trading. If so, let me have them at once."
The officer at once left the room.
"Supposing–as I have no doubt–that we can give you the papers, what is your course?"
"Speed is, naturally, an essential," Ralph said. "We shall disguise ourselves at once and, upon receipt of the dispatches, start from here to Orleans by train; with two good horses–which can, of course, be furnished us. We shall ride through the forest of Orleans, and so to Montargis; cross the Loing there, and make straight for Melun–keeping always through by-lanes. As far as we know, there are no large bodies of the enemy along that line.
"When we get near the town, we shall leave our horses with some village Maire, or give them to a farmer, and walk into the place boldly. You will furnish us with a note to the Maire of Melun, as well as a circular to all French authorities, to give us any help; and we shall get him to assist us at once to buy a wagon, and two strong horses. With these we shall drive round, direct, to Versailles. Our pass will admit us into the town, without difficulty; and then we shall naturally be guided by circumstances. We must be furnished with a considerable sum of money, to make purchases of plunder."
"An admirable plan," said the minister, warmly, "and one that deserves–even should it not obtain–success.
"I need not speak to you of reward because, as gentlemen, I know that you make the attempt from the love of honor Colonel Tempe has before spoken to me of you, and you were highly commended by General Cambriels. Your names will, therefore, be in the next Gazette for the cross of the legion of honor; and if you succeed, you will come back captains and commanders of the Legion. I may mention–although I know that it will not add to your motive to succeed–that you will be entitled to the reward, of fifty thousand francs, which has been offered to anyone who will carry in dispatches to Paris."
At this moment the officer entered.
"Here are the papers the Jews with the captured wagons carried," he said. "They are signed by the general at Frankfort, and countersigned by at least a dozen military authorities. There are three of them."
The minister glanced at them.
"They will do well," he said. "Will you be ready to start tomorrow morning?"
"Quite ready," Ralph said.
"Very well. Then if you will be here at half-past five, the dispatches will be ready; written, of course, so as to fold up in the smallest possible compass.
"Captain Verre, will you see that two of the best horses in my stable are put into boxes, in the train that leaves at six tomorrow morning."
The boys now rose to leave.
"Good morning," the minister said. "All the letters of recommendation, the dispatches, and the money will be ready when you come, in the morning."
The boys, on going out, held a long consultation over their disguises. Examining the papers, they found that one was for two persons of the same name–Isaac Kraph and Aaron Kraph–father and son; the father, as described in the pass, forty-five years old, the son eighteen. This pass they determined to use.
The task of changing Percy into a Jew boy, of eighteen, was evidently an easy one. His clear complexion was the only difficulty, and this could be readily disguised. Ralph's disguise was a more difficult one; and there was a considerable debate as to whether he had better go as a red Jew, or a dark Jew. The latter was finally determined upon as, otherwise, the contrast between the supposed father and son would be too striking.
They then went to their tailor, and found their uniforms ready. They at once put them on, as the peculiarity of the purchases they intended to make was so great that, had they been in their civilian dress, it was certain that they would have been regarded with suspicion; and would have, perhaps, had difficulty in obtaining what they wanted.
