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CHAPTER XXIX THE PRUSSIAN ARTILLERY FOR SIX HUNDRED FRANCS

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at six o'clock the next morning, while the sun was disputing with a thick fog the right to light the world; while the first column, commanded by savary, which had left dawendorff the night before at nine o'clock, was entering jaegerthal, where it was to rest for five or six hours: while the thunder of the cannon was beginning to be heard at the bridge of reichsoffen, which was the object of the attack of the column commanded by abatucci—the second column, the strongest of the three, with hoche and pichegru at its head, crossed the stream which flows past niederbronn, and took possession of the village without striking a blow.

they had marched twelve miles, and the troops were allowed a short rest at this, their first halting-place. they breakfasted, and the goddess of reason, with her donkey and her kegs of brandy, passed through the ranks. one of the kegs was left behind there, and with the cry of "long[pg 191] live the republic!" the column started at eight o'clock for froeschwiller, scarcely two miles away.

meanwhile the unceasing roar of the cannon could be heard in the direction of reichsoffen. after a quarter of an hour the firing ceased suddenly. had the passage been forced, or had abatucci been obliged to retreat?

the general called doumerc.

"have you a good horse, captain?" he asked.

"excellent."

"can he take ditches and fences?"

"he can take anything."

"gallop off then to the bridge of reichsoffen, and bring me news or die in the attempt."

doumerc rode off; ten minutes later two horsemen were seen rapidly approaching from the direction that doumerc had taken. they were the captain and falou.

the captain had ridden but half of the way when he met a chasseur, who had been despatched by abatucci to announce that he had carried the bridge and was about to march upon froeschwiller. falou having taken a prussian officer prisoner, abatucci had made him a corporal—a nomination he begged the general to confirm.

falou returned to abatucci with his nomination confirmed, and carried a verbal order to march upon froeschwiller, and threaten the town, while the general attacked the heights. he was also to hold himself in readiness to render any assistance that might be needed. the troops had meantime continued their march and the heights of froeschwiller were coming into view.

a small wood covered the road between niederbronn and froeschwiller, and fearing lest it might conceal an ambuscade the general ordered a sergeant and twenty men to form in skirmishing line and to investigate it.

"oh!" said doumerc, "it is not worth while to trouble the men for a little thing like that." and he went through the wood at a gallop, saying, as he returned, "there is no one there, general."

[pg 192]

they passed through the wood safely, but as the advance-guard arrived at the edge of a brook it was greeted by a volley. two or three sharpshooters had been stationed along the windings of the stream and in the numerous thickets. the two generals formed their men to attack. pichegru ordered charles to remain in the rear, but at his earnest solicitation he was allowed to accompany the staff.

froeschwiller lies at the foot of a little hill which was then bristling with cannon and redoubts; on the right they could see abatucci's force driving before them into the town the men who had attempted to defend the bridge.

"comrades," said pichegru, "shall we wait for our companions, who have already had their share of glory at the bridge, before attacking these redoubts, or shall we keep for ourselves alone the glory of the undertaking, which will be a difficult one, i warn you!"

"forward! forward!" shouted with one accord the battalion of the indre, which formed the head of the column.

"forward!" cried the men of hoche's division, who had threatened insubordination the night before, and who had subsequently obtained permission to march second in the line.

"forward!" cried general dubois, who was in command of the rear-guard of the army of the moselle, which now formed the advance-guard, owing to the reverse movement which had been made.

the drums and trumpets beat the charge. the front ranks began to sing the "marseillaise"; the quick-step of three or four thousand men shook the earth, and like a human cyclone the army advanced with levelled bayonets.

they had scarcely gone a hundred feet before the little hill vomited fire like a volcano, and bloody furrows were plowed through the thick ranks, which were closed as rapidly as they were broken. the "marseillaise" and the cries of "forward!" continued, and the distance between the first ranks of the french soldiers and the intrenchments was rapidly lessening, when a second volley burst forth, and again the balls plowed their way through the ranks. they[pg 193] closed again, but this time a dogged rage succeeded to the enthusiasm, and the song grew fainter, the steps slower.

as the first rank reached the intrenchment, a third discharge burst from the hostile guns; this time the artillery, loaded with grape-shot, sent a hurricane of lead through the attacking column. the assailants fell back before that fiery blast. this time death did not mow in long swaths, but fell as hail among the wheat. the song ceased, the music was hushed, the wave of humanity not only stopped but flowed backward.

again the troops took up the music of the victorious hymn. general dubois, commanding the attack, had his horse killed under him, and was believed to be dead; but he extricated himself from beneath the animal, rose, and putting his hat on the point of his sword, cried, "long live the republic!"

this cry was repeated by all the survivors, and even by those of the wounded who were able to make their voices heard. the momentary hesitation vanished; the charge sounded again. the bayonets were levelled, and a roaring as of lions succeeded the singing and the shouts. the first ranks had already reached the redoubts. the grenadiers had begun to scale the walls, when thirty pieces of cannon belched flame with a noise like that of an explosion in a powder-mill.

this time general dubois fell to rise no more. a ball had cut him in two. the first ranks disappeared in the whirlwind of fire as if engulfed in an abyss. this time the column not only wavered but fell back, and a space of forty feet, piled with the dead and wounded, was cleared.

then a heroic deed was done. before pichegru, who had sent two of his aides-de-camp to abatucci to come to their assistance, could guess his purpose, hoche, throwing his hat on the ground that he might the better be recognized by all, with his sword in hand, dashed at a gallop into the clearing and shouted: "soldiers! six hundred francs apiece for the prussian cannon!"

[pg 194]

"taken!" cried the soldiers with one voice.

the music, which had been silent for a second, began again, and, amid shot and crashing balls, which did deadly work with their hail-like rain, hoche, followed by his men, mad with hate and revenge, reached the first redoubt, climbed over it, and urged his horse into the midst of the enemy.

pichegru placed his hand on charles's shoulder. the boy was watching the terrible spectacle with wide-opened eyes and quickened breath.

"charles," said he, "did you ever see a demigod?"

"no, general," replied the boy.

"well, then," said pichegru, "look at hoche. not even achilles, son of thetis, was grander or more beautiful."

and in truth, hoche, surrounded by his enemies, his hair floating in the wind of death, his brow pale, his lip disdainful, with his tall figure and his beautiful face, looked like an ideal hero, at once dealing death and scorning it.

how would the men climb behind him? how would they scale those parapets eight or ten feet high? it would be impossible to describe how it was done, but in less than five minutes hoche was followed by his men, the redoubt was carried, and the corpses of one hundred and fifty men were lying at his feet. then hoche sprang upon the redoubt, and counting the cannon, said: "four cannon awarded, for two thousand four hundred francs, to the first ranks of the attacking column!"

thus he stood for a moment, a living flag of the revolution before the whole army, a target for bullets, none of which touched him. then, in a terrible voice, he shouted: "at the others! long live the republic!"

and in the midst of rolling drums, the blare of trumpets, generals, officers and soldiers rushed pell-mell upon the intrenchments. at the first sound of the trumpets, the royalists, who were in readiness, rushed from their camp; but they were received by abatucci's advance-guard, which came up at the double-quick, and kept them so busily engaged[pg 195] that they were unable to assist their allies, the prussians. abatucci, in obedience to pichegru's orders, had even detached fifteen hundred men, which he sent with the two aides-de-camp to join the main army.

pichegru took command of them, and seeing that abatucci was fully able to take care of himself with his remaining men, he hastened to the assistance of his comrades, who were hard-pressed at the redoubts. these fresh troops, animated by their victory at the first charge, penetrated the battery. the gunners were cut down, and such guns as could not be turned upon the prussians were spiked.

the two generals met in the midst of the fray, and standing upon the summit of a low hill, from which they could see the whole plain of neschwiller, joined in a shout of triumph. a black mass of shining weapons, tri-colored plumes, and flags bending like the masts of a ship in a tempest, were advancing at the double; it was macdonald and the first column, who thus arrived, not in time to decide the victory, for that was already gained, but to share in the glory.

at sight of them the prussians became panic-stricken and thought only of flight. they flung themselves over the parapets of the redoubts, and rolled, rather than ran, down a slope so steep that it had not been thought necessary to fortify it. but macdonald by a prompt man?uvre had skirted the hill, and received the soldiers at the point of the bayonet.

the royalists, who alone had not fled, on seeing their comrades, knew that the day was lost. the infantry retreated slowly, covered by the cavalry, whose bold and frequent charges won the admiration even of those who were fighting against them.

pichegru, under pretext that they were wearied, sent word to their conquerors to allow them to retreat slowly, while, on the contrary, the cavalry was to charge the fleeing prussians, who did not rally until they had passed woerth.

then each of the generals, hastening to the top of the[pg 196] low hill to view the battlefield, met at the summit. they threw themselves into each other's arms, and waving, the one his bloody sword, the other his hat pierced by two bullets, looked like two gigantic statues through the smoke which still mounted to the sky like the expiring flame of an extinguished volcano.

a tremendous cry of "long live the republic!" resounded across the battlefield at this sight, until it gradually died away, and was merged in the groans of the wounded and the last sighs of the dying.

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