The Young Franc Tireurs Part 45

"Where is the general?"

"He has got a room, about half the size of this, for the use of himself, Tempe, and the chief of the staff. They are writing; and will go on writing all night, I expect. These are the only two rooms not full of wounded in the whole village.

"You had a narrow escape, today. We have had our share of casualties. Poor Maillet and Porcet are both killed, and we have three wounded. Were you hurt at all?"

"No," Ralph said; "but I was tremendously shaken, and feel stiff all over. I will lie down by the wall, here, and get a few hours'

sleep."

And so ended the 1st of December.

Chapter 19: Down At Last.

At half-past eight o'clock the next morning hors.e.m.e.n came das.h.i.+ng in, with the news that the Germans were advancing in force.

Stiff--many half frozen, and half starved--it was an absolute relief, to the men, to have some break to the monotony of cold and hunger. They were already a.s.sembled under arms and, in a few minutes, the artillery upon both sides was at work.

"I fear you will see that we shall be beaten, today," Colonel Tempe said to Ralph as they mounted. "The men are worn out with hunger; disgusted at the wretched mismanagement, which sends them into a battle without having had food for twenty-four hours, and with no prospect whatever of it for another twenty-four. Besides, we ought to have been reinforced.

"Our line is too long, Ralph. There is neither direction nor management."

For a time the French held their position well, against the tremendous artillery fire which was maintained upon them.

Gradually, however, the Germans pushed their heavy ma.s.ses of troops forwards; and the French reserves had already been brought up.

Several of the mobile regiments showed signs of wavering. General Chanzy rode backwards and forwards along the front of the position; exposing himself recklessly, in order to give courage and confidence to his men. Cigar after cigar he smoked, as tranquilly as if sitting in an armchair, a hundred miles away from the din of battle. At last, after exchanging a few words with the generals of brigade, he called Ralph--who happened to be the only aide-de-camp unemployed--up to him.

"Captain Barclay," he said, "ride at once to General Sonis. Tell him that my division--not having received the promised reinforcements--must fall back. He has already sent, to say he is hard pressed. Ask him to hold his ground, if possible, for another half hour; by which time I shall have fallen back towards the position I left yesterday morning--but will draw rather to my right, so as to keep our connections nearer, and to afford him help, if necessary."

Without a word Ralph turned his horse, and galloped off at full speed. A quarter of an hour's riding, and he rode up to General Sonis; who was just calling upon several regiments, among whom were the Papal Zouaves, to make a charge.

This fine body of men--the Papal Zouaves--acquired, and justly acquired, more glory than any other French corps throughout the war. They behaved, upon every occasion, magnificently. In the first fight at Orleans, upon this 2nd of December, and afterwards at the battle of Le Mans, the Zouaves of Charette fought with the courage of lions. A great many of them were men of good family. All were inspired by the ardor and spirit of their chief. Their uniform was similar in cut to that of the French Zouaves; but was of a quiet gray color, trimmed with a little red braid.

Ralph rode up, and delivered his message.

"I am going to carry that position, sir," the general said; "and in that case I shall not have to fall back at all, and General Chanzy can close up on me--throwing back his left, so as not to be outflanked. If you wait a few minutes, you will see the result of this charge.

"Now, gentlemen."

So saying he rode, with his staff, in front of the line.

"Forward, men!" he shouted, drawing his sword.

Ralph had naturally fallen in with the staff, and was now able to see and admire the daring of the proposed movement which, if successful, would have changed the fortunes of the day. Upon an eminence, some three-quarters of a mile distant, were several batteries of artillery; supported by a large body of infantry, who extended to within about half the distance between the French line and their own reserves. The fire was terrific--so terrific that several of the French regiments refused to advance. Others started; but withered away so fast, under the deadly fire, that only two corps--besides the Zouaves--persevered to the end.

The Zouaves advanced at a double, but with as much coolness as if on parade. They did not fire a shot, but made straight at the Prussian infantry. As they approached the enemy's line, General Sonis and his staff fell in between the Zouaves, and a regiment of Mobiles next to them, in order not to interfere with the fire.

"For G.o.d and France!" Charette shouted, as he led the charge; and the whole regiment responded, as one man, "For G.o.d and France!"

So fierce was this onslaught that the Prussian infantry refused to face it, and fell back upon their supports. Still the Zouaves rushed on, and again the Prussians fell back; but the a.s.sault was growing more and more hopeless. The Zouaves were unsupported, save by a few hundred men. The other regiments were far in the rear. The shot and sh.e.l.l were mowing lanes through them. An army was in front.

At last, they halted. Colonel Charette marched on in front, waving his sword. General Sonis, with his staff, again rode forward. It was heroic, but it was heroic madness.

Again the Zouaves advanced. Again a storm of sh.e.l.l poured upon them, and then a regiment of German cavalry swept down. There was a crash. Charette and his officers disappeared, beneath the hoofs of the cavalry. General Sonis and his staff went down like straw before them; but the Zouaves stood firm, fired a volley into them; and then--having lost eight hundred men, in that desperate attempt to retrieve the fortunes of the day--the remainder retreated, sullenly, with their faces to the foe.

Ralph Barclay, when the cavalry swept upon them, had shot the first two of his foes with his revolver; and had then been cut down by a tall German dragoon, just at the moment that his horse fell dead, shot through the head. Ralph had a momentary vision of gleaming hoofs above him; and then he remembered nothing more, until he came to himself, hours afterwards.

His first sensation was that of intense cold. He endeavored to rise, but was powerless to move hand or foot. He lay quiet for a few minutes; and then made another effort, but with a similar want of success. This time, however, he felt that his limbs would have moved, had they not been fastened down by some weight.

He now concentrated all his strength upon one arm. It yielded suddenly and, when it was free, he was able to turn partly round, so as to feel what it was that had confined it. He found that his own blood, and that of the horse, had frozen his arm fast to the ground. It required a considerable effort before he could get altogether free, for he was stiff with the cold. Putting his sword up to his head, he found that he had been saved by the very means which were now giving him so much pain. The intense cold had frozen the blood, as it flowed; and stanched it more effectively than any surgeon could have done.

Ralph--after rubbing his hands and arms, to restore circulation--now endeavored, by the remains of twilight, to see where he was, and how he had been saved. His horse lay next to him, and almost covering him. The poor animal had fallen on to its back; or had rolled over, afterwards and, in the latter case, it was fortunate indeed, for Ralph, that it had not taken another half turn. Had it done so, it would have crushed him to death. As it was, it had reached to within an inch or two of him; partly concealing him from sight, protecting him from the cold, and also greatly diminis.h.i.+ng his chance of being trampled upon by cavalry pa.s.sing over.

A short distance off, Ralph could see parties with lanterns; and one of them seemed approaching. Far in his rear, he could hear an occasional shot; and it rushed across his mind, at once, that the French had been defeated, and were falling back upon Orleans. These lights, therefore, must be in the hands of Germans.

The thought that a German prison awaited him roused Ralph from his inactivity. It flashed across his mind that, as he had escaped before, they would take care and give him but little chance of escaping again and--although stiff, and bruised from head to foot; half frozen, and faint from loss of blood--the hope of liberty roused him to new exertion. With some effort, he got at the holster of his pistol; in which was a flask of strong brandy and water which, though icy cold, had yet a sensibly warming influence. The lights were still at some distance off; and Ralph, after considerable trouble, and after cutting the straps which fastened it to the saddle, succeeded in getting at his fur overcoat. This he put on, picked up the cap of one of the German troopers who had fallen near, and then walked slowly away, over the deserted battle ground.

Ten minutes later, he heard a horse's hoofs upon the hard ground.

He c.o.c.ked the pistol--which had remained fastened to his belt, when he fell--pulled forward the German soldier's cap, and walked quietly on.

"Who goes there?" shouted a voice, and two German officers rode up.

It was far too dark, now, to distinguish faces.

"Karl Zimmerman, of the Seventh Dragoons," Ralph said, in German, saluting.

"What are you doing here?"

"I am servant to Lieutenant Falchen, who fell today; and I had been to look for his body. It was somewhere about here, when we charged the gray Zouaves."

"But your regiment is miles off," one of the officers said. "I saw them an hour ago."

"I don't know where they are, sir," Ralph said, "for I had my head laid open, with a sword bayonet, just as I was cutting down the man I had seen shoot my master. I was carried to the rear, but the surgeon had gone on; and my wound stopped of itself and, when I reached the hospital, the doctors were so busy that I asked leave to go, and see if I could find my master."

"Where are the ambulances now?" one of the officers asked, as they turned to ride off.

"Over in that direction. Look, sir, there are some of the searchers, with lanterns. They will direct you, at once."

"Thanks," the officer said, riding off; "good luck in your search."

Ralph had noticed a cottage, standing by itself at the edge of a wood, at some little distance from the bivouac of the night of the 30th of November; and had stopped for a moment, and asked a few questions of the woman who lived there. She had appeared a kind-hearted woman, full of hatred for the invader; and had two sons in the Mobiles, who had marched north when Paris was first threatened, and who were now besieged there. For this cottage Ralph determined to make, in order--if the owners would receive him--to take shelter in the house; otherwise, to find a refuge in the wood, itself, where he doubted not that they would a.s.sist him to lie hid for a few days. He had no great fear of a very active search being made for fugitives, at present, as the Prussians had only driven back two divisions of the French army; and had, Ralph believed, plenty of work on their hands, for some time.

It was fortunate for Ralph that he had studied the ground so carefully; for he soon came upon the road, and the stars--which were s.h.i.+ning brightly--gave him his direction and bearings. The battle had extended over the whole of this ground. Many times Ralph could hear groans; and saw, in places, dark forms thickly scattered over the ground--showing where a stand had been made, or where a regiment had lain exposed, for hours, to an artillery fire.

The distance was considerable to the place Ralph had marked out for himself. Eight miles, at least, he thought; for it was away behind what had, two days before, been Chanzy's left. It was, in Ralph's state of feebleness, a very long journey. Over and over again, he had to sit down and rest. He did not feel the cold, now; the fur coat, and the exertion of walking, kept his body in a glow. He took great pains, however, not to exert himself, so as to make himself too hot; as he feared that his wound might break out, if he did so.

He was fully twelve hours upon the road; and daylight was just breaking in the east when--exhausted by hunger, fatigue, and loss of blood--he crawled up to the door, and knocked.

There was a movement inside, but it was not until he had knocked twice that a voice within asked: