The command of the Federal forces had been entrusted to Colonel William

Henry Dufour, of Geneva. Switzerland possesses no standing army; but

every able-bodied man goes through military training, and there is a

permanent staff of superior officers, on which Dufour held the post

of Quartermaster-General. He was now sixty years old; and though in

his youth he had served in the French army during all the time of

Napoleon’s great campaigns, and risen to the rank of captain, he had

seen no active service, having passed those stirring years as an

engineer-officer in the island of Corfu, which for most of the time was

blockaded by the English fleet. When Geneva became part of Switzerland,

in 1815, he transferred his services to the Confederation, and gained a

considerable reputation as a student and teacher of military science.

He was also at the head of the Commission which from 1833 onwards was

engaged in the production of the finest map of any country which up

till then had existed--the Ordnance Map of Switzerland. Only a few days

before he had remarked to one of his officers that it was lucky for

them both that their duties would prevent them from taking an active

part in the conflict! As the result showed, no better man could have

been chosen. On October 25th he received the rank of General, and took

the oath of office as Commander-in-Chief. In a few days he had under

his orders a force of nearly 100,000 men and 174 guns.

The Sonderbund leaders had been unable to find a commander among the

citizens of the seceding cantons. Their choice finally fell upon

Colonel Ulrich Salis-Soglio, of Chur in Graubünden. Like Dufour, he

was an elderly man, but had had the advantage of actual military

experience. He had served in the Bavarian army during the Leipzig

campaign, and had distinguished himself at the battle of Hanau. For

twenty-five years he had been an officer in the Swiss regiment in

the Dutch service. He is described as a man of charming manners and

chivalrous courage; but by no means Dufour’s equal as a strategist.

Curiously enough he was a Protestant. The Sonderbund forces amounted in

all to about 78,000 men and 72 guns. He commanded only the forces of

the “Forest Cantons” and Zug. General Maillardoz commanded in Fribourg,

General Kalbermatten in Valais.

[Illustration: “MAJOR SCHERRER SEIZED THE COLOURS”

(_p._ 144).]

Dufour’s first care was to secure himself from attack in the rear by

subduing Fribourg, which, as we have said, is separated by the cantons

of Bern and Vaud from the rest of those composing the Sonderbund.

His strategy for this purpose was simple, but effective. The town of

Fribourg is not more than sixteen or seventeen miles from Bern, in a

westerly direction. It was strongly fortified, and defended by a force

of from 12,000 to 15,000 men. The defenders naturally expected that

the attack would come from the direction of the Federal capital, and

they had made their arrangements to resist it on that side by throwing

up batteries and blocking the roads with trees. Dufour caused his

first division, under Colonel Rilliet, to advance in three brigades

from Vevey, Moudon, and Payerne, in Canton Vaud, with instructions

to reach Matran, some four miles south-west of Fribourg, on November

12th. This manœuvre was executed punctually. At the same time Colonel

Burckhardt’s division, which had been stationed in Canton Bern, instead

of advancing directly upon Fribourg, made a night-march to the right,

and took up a position about the same distance north-west of the town.

Lastly, Colonel Ochsenbein was directed to make a demonstration on the

side of Bern, so as to draw off the attention of the defenders from

the movements on the west and north, and at the same time to watch the

approaches from the south. These dispositions were all so accurately

carried out that on the morning of November 13th Dufour was able to

send a missive to the mayor of Fribourg, pointing out that his city was

surrounded by superior forces--they were from 25,000 to 30,000 men,

with sixty guns--and that under the circumstances he could surrender

without discredit. The authorities of the city saw the force of his

arguments, and agreed to an armistice for twenty-four hours; and on

the following day a capitulation was signed, the first article of

which bound Fribourg to leave the Sonderbund forthwith. This success

was not quite bloodless, for on the afternoon of the 13th some of the

outposts of the first division who were stationed in a wood on the

west of a town, and had not heard of the armistice, made, under some

misconception, an attack upon a redoubt which was close in front of

them. The artillery on both sides came into action, and the Federal

troops lost seven killed and fifty wounded.

The fall of Fribourg, says Dufour, fell like a thunderclap on the

Sonderbund, and astonished the rest of Europe. His own task became

much easier, owing to the spirit of cheerfulness and unanimity which

now took the place of the indecision and even reluctance which had

been felt in many quarters. He lost no time in grappling with the more

arduous part of his work--the subjection of Lucerne. Hitherto he had

given strict orders to his subordinate commanders that they were to

act entirely on the defensive, and his orders had been obeyed, though

to do so must have required some self-restraint on the part of those

officers. For the Sonderbund forces were by no means inactive. The

canton of Aargau runs down in a long tongue between Lucerne and Zug,

forming the district known as the Freiamt. At the northern end of this

tongue, where it widens out to the full breadth of the canton, is the

village of Muri, where one of the suppressed monasteries had been

situated. Perhaps the Sonderbund expected to find some sympathisers

in that district. At all events, on November 12th a strong force, in

two columns, under General Salis and his Chief of the Staff, Colonel

Elgger, respectively, entered Aargau, with the intention of marching

by different routes upon Muri. The General, starting from Gislikon,

entered the Freiamt at its southernmost point; while Elgger, keeping

within the territory of Lucerne, was to take a parallel line and

approach Muri from the south-west. It was a foggy day, and the two

columns, separated by a range of lofty hills, completely lost touch

of each other. In the afternoon, Salis made an attempt to destroy a

bridge which the Federal engineers had thrown over the river Reuss, to

connect Zürich with Aargau. But he was met with a stout resistance, and

compelled to retire. Near Muri he again fell in with troops from St.

Gallen and Appenzell, who received him with a vigorous fire, and he

found nothing to do but return to his starting-point. Colonel Elgger

was at first more fortunate, and drove the Aargau troops back with some

loss. His own son, who was acting as his aide-de-camp, got a bullet in

his head, but lived to edit the Swiss Military Gazette thirty years

later. Presently an order to the artillery to retire in order to take

up a better position, caused a panic among some troops from Valais,

who probably did not understand the words, and only saw the movement.

They fled, and Elgger, having lost a part of his force and hearing the

sound of Salis’ guns grow fainter and fainter, had nothing to do but

to withdraw. A third column, which was to have invaded Aargau further

to the westward, succeeded in surprising the Federal outposts and

bombarding an unfortified village; but did not wait for the arrival

of the Aargau battalions, which hastened up at the summons of the

alarm-bells.

In the south, where the Federal strength was less, matters for a few

days looked more promising for the Sonderbund. On November 17th a

body of 2000 men, with four guns, crossed the St. Gotthard Pass in a

storm of wind and snow, and fell upon Airolo. The Ticino troops, who

were holding that place, 2700 strong, hardly expected a visit in such

weather, and allowed themselves to be surprised. Before they knew what

was happening, the village was surrounded by the riflemen of Uri,

and cannon-balls were crashing through the snow-covered roofs. They

fled in disorder to Bellinzona, with a loss of six killed and thirty

wounded, leaving weapons, ammunition, baggage, even their colonel’s

despatch-boxes and dressing-case, in the enemy’s hands. This was the

nearest approach to success which the Sonderbund had. It was hoped that

Ticino, being a Catholic canton, at least a portion of the population

might welcome the invaders; but they received no encouragement, and in

a few days the approach of the Federal army to Lucerne rendered their

retreat necessary.

For Dufour did not let the grass grow under his feet. Two days after

the capitulation of Fribourg had been signed, his headquarters were

at Aarau, the capital of Aargau, and all his dispositions made for

striking the decisive blow. Lucerne is very well situated for defence

against an enemy approaching from the north. The stream of the Reuss,

flowing out of the lake towards the north-west, presently sweeps round

to the north-east. Just at the angle the smaller River Emme joins it

from the south-west, so that a continuous obstacle is offered to an

attacking force. Between the Reuss and the Kussnacht arm of the lake

(which washes the foot of the Rigi) is a range of lofty wooded hills

called the Rooterberg, which continue almost to the Lake of Zug; and in

the other direction, a similar line of hills, cut by deep gorges, runs

parallel to the Emme. It was on this latter side that the ill-starred

attempt of the Free Corps had been made in 1845. Dufour determined on

this occasion to approach from the other direction, along the line

of the Reuss, and between that river and the Rooterberg. It was a

hazardous operation: in his own words, “taking the bull by the horns.”

Gislikon, the point where the main road crosses the river, while that

on the right bank comes close to it, was strongly fortified; and

the Rooterberg afforded an admirable position for sharpshooters and

artillery. But by advancing from this side he would, if successful,

separate Lucerne and Schwyz, and would strike at the heart of the

secession. Therefore, while ordering all the five divisions which he

intended to employ, to converge by various roads on Lucerne, from east,

north, and west, he resolved to make his main attack with the fourth

and fifth, under Colonels Ziegler and Gmür. Of these, the former was at

present quartered in Aarau, the latter between the Reuss and the Lake

of Zürich.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF GISLIKON.]

The attack was fixed for November 23rd. Two days before, the little

canton of Zug, which had entered the Sonderbund somewhat reluctantly,

seeing that further resistance was useless, capitulated, thereby

relieving Dufour of anxiety for his left flank. On the 22nd the

General issued a proclamation to his troops, reminding them that

they were performing a duty to their country, and bidding them lay

aside all feeling of hostility as soon as the victory was won. They

were specially enjoined to respect all churches and buildings used

in the service of religion, and to see that no injury was done to

non-combatants or to private property.

That evening Colonel Ziegler’s division bivouacked in the “Freiamt,”

right up to the frontier of Lucerne. It was a clear night, and round

the Lake of Zug they could see the watch-fires of the fifth division,

which was now occupying that canton. In the early morning of the 23rd

the Aargau engineers threw a bridge of boats over the Reuss at Sins,

another being placed a couple of miles higher up, at Oberrüti. Ziegler,

with two brigades of his division, under Colonels Egloff and König,

crossed to the right bank, and came into touch with Colonel Gmür and

the fifth division, advancing from the Lake of Zug. The third brigade,

under Colonel Müller, was to remain on the left bank, and attack

Gislikon from the direction of Klein Dietwyl. It should have acted

in conjunction with the third division, under Donatz, which occupied

the next place to the westward, but bad roads hindered that commander

from arriving in time to take part in the main action. About nine

in the morning the batteries of Gislikon opened fire upon Müller’s

brigade, compelling it to retire for a time. One of the first shots

killed Captain Buk, a refugee from Lucerne, who was marching with the

column. Colonel Ziegler, meanwhile, was making progress on the other

side of the Reuss. In spite of the fire from the Rooterberg, and from

the Lucerne artillery in front of the village of Honau, he pressed on,

and presently his guns coming into action caused the enemy’s batteries

to retire. They made a short stand in Honau, but were soon forced

back upon Gislikon, where regular earthworks had been thrown up.

Here they made a resolute defence, the battery under Captain Mazzola

specially distinguishing itself. On the other side, Rust’s battery

(from Solothurn) galloped through Honau, leaving the infantry behind,

and took up its position in an orchard, five hundred paces--this was

before the days of rifled cannon--from the earthworks. Its first shot

killed and wounded five men in Hegi’s company, which retired, leaving

Mazzola’s left flank uncovered. Mazzola, however, literally “stuck

to his guns,” though the artillery on the further side of the Reuss

was now playing upon him, and presently compelled Rust to retire

behind the fighting line, barely saving his guns from capture by the

Lucerne _chasseurs_. A plucky action on the part of one of his

subordinates is recorded. Just after the Solothurn guns had retired,

a body of troops was seen in the spot they had occupied. In the smoke

and haze of the November day, it was not certain whether they were

friend or foe. Corporal Pfiffer asked his captain’s permission to go

and ascertain, which Mazzola willingly gave. Pfiffer left the battery,

and went forward till he could see the others clearly; then, waving his

sword, cried: “Fire, Captain; it is the enemy!” and made his way back.

General Salis, who had taken up his position in the battery, pressed a

piece of gold into his hand; but the sturdy Swiss rejected it, saying:

“No need for that, General; I only did my duty.” The narrator of this

story, himself a bitter partisan on the Catholic side, adds that

Pfiffer was a well-known adherent of the Liberals. Here, as later in

the American Civil War, when hostilities had once begun, men put the

defence of their homes first, and let their private opinions wait for

quieter times.

The troops whose identity Corporal Pfiffer had ascertained were some

battalions of Egloff’s and König’s brigades. These were Appenzellers

under Benziger, and Aargauers under Häusler. The former could not face

the storm of grape with which they were received, and took shelter in

some gravel-pits. Häusler’s men, with whom the Brigadier-Colonel Egloff

was himself riding, began in their turn to waver. At this moment Major

Scherrer, whose own battalion was also unsteady, seized the colours,

and fixing them into the ground, cried out: “Switzers, do you know what

that means?” Thus encouraged, Häusler’s men held their ground, and,

presently, through the personal efforts of Egloff and his staff, the

fugitives were rallied, and the line restored. Meanwhile, the Lucerne

and Unterwarden companies had pressed too far in the direction of the

Rooterberg, allowing the Federal skirmishers to penetrate between them

and the artillery, so that the earthworks were denuded of all covering

infantry. Egloff at once ordered up three batteries, and under the

fire of these, combined with that from others on the other bank, the

intrepid Mazzola, after nearly an hour’s duel between his one battery

and five or six of the enemy’s, was compelled to withdraw, and abandon

Gislikon. General Salis, too, who had taken up his position in the

battery, had been severely wounded in the temple by a grape-shot,

though he made light of his wound, and refused to leave the fight.

König’s brigade, meanwhile, to which had been assigned the duty of

clearing the west slopes of the Rooterberg and sheltering Egloff’s left

flank, had met with a sudden resistance. Again and again they had to

fall back, until Ziegler himself, dismounting and leading the right

wing, succeeded in pressing the enemy so far up the hill as to secure

Egloff from a flank attack, and set part of his own main force to

operate against Mazzola. König, with the left wing, attempted to force

the position of Michelskappel, on the crest of the ridge, but could

not succeed in dislodging the troops from Schwyz who held it. Gmür’s

division, meanwhile, had captured Meyerskappel, on the eastern side of

the ridge, and was advancing upon Lucerne by the road between the hills

and the lake.

But the retreat from Gislikon had decided the battle. At 3 p.m. General

Salis gave the order to retire upon Ebikon, a village not more than

three miles from Lucerne. In the city itself men had been listening

all day long, with painful anxiety, to the thunder of the cannon, but

no news of the fight had reached them. At four, arrived an orderly

from the General, bringing a message couched in the form usual with

defeated commanders, to the effect that he had been compelled to retire

temporarily upon Ebikon, but hoped to maintain his ground there for a

time. He added, however, that the loss of Gislikon had rendered the

position of Lucerne very precarious. A steamer had been in readiness

all day, and on the receipt of this news, the Council-of-War, with

Siegwart and Meyer at its head, went on board, taking the military

treasury and all documents, papers, etc., with them, and steamed up

the lake to Flüelen, leaving orders to General Salis to arrange for

an armistice. The General himself arrived about 8 p.m., suffering

from his wound, and after giving the requisite instructions, departed

to Unterwalden. As an old soldier, he doubtless knew that further

resistance meant useless bloodshed. Colonel Elgger, his Chief of the

Staff, had been for two days maintaining a stout resistance in the

Valley of Entlebuch, west of the city, to the seventh Federal division,

under Colonel Ochsenbein--who had his former defeat on almost the

same ground to avenge--and had hastened back to Lucerne, when night

put an end to further fighting on the 23rd. He was at first in favour

of defending the city; but was soon convinced of the hopelessness of

the situation, and agreed to communicate with Dufour. At 9 in the

morning of the 24th came the reply that it was too late to countermand

the advance, but that if the Federal troops were allowed to enter

peaceably, and the Federal flag was displayed, no warlike measures

would be taken.

[Illustration: “RUST’S BATTERY GALLOPED THROUGH

HONAU” (_p._ 144).]

Accordingly, at midday on the 24th, the Federal forces marched into

Lucerne by all the gates. Twenty days had finished the civil war. The

total losses were, on the Federal side, 60 killed and 386 wounded; on

that of the Sonderbund, 36 and 119. Dufour attributes the smallness of

these figures to the fact that the fighting took place in a broken and

thickly-wooded country, where cover was plentiful. Something was, no

doubt, also due to the inexperience of the gunners.

Great care was taken to prevent any excesses on the part of the

victors. The Bern division, between whom and Lucerne bitter feelings

had existed ever since 1845, was not allowed to take part in the entry

into the city, but had to remain, by Colonel Ochsenbein’s orders, in

the suburbs. Dufour ordered a joint “Church-parade” to be held, the

Catholic troops attending Mass in the chief church of Lucerne, while

a service was held in the open-air for the Protestants. Subsequently

he wrote, “The troops on both sides showed by their conduct that every

Swiss is a born soldier.”

The Confederation had had a narrow escape. On the day when war had been

declared, M. Guizot had, on behalf of France, proposed to the other

Great Powers that a joint note should be sent to the Swiss Diet calling

upon them to submit the questions at issue to foreign arbitration.

As it was hardly doubtful that the proposal would be rejected, this

meant armed intervention, with the certainty of an ultimate partition

of Switzerland. The Continental Powers were ready enough, but Lord

Palmerston, then English Foreign Secretary, who had, as he said, “no

wish to see Switzerland made a Poland of,” managed, by objections and

suggestions, to postpone the delivery of the note till November 30th.

By that time the Diet was able to reply that there was no longer any

Sonderbund. In the course of the following year, Prussia, Austria, and

France had matters enough of their own to attend to; and the Swiss were

able to proceed unmolested with the revision of their Constitution into

the form under which the country has prospered ever since. Formerly a

Confederation of States, they have since 1848 been a Confederated State.

The conflict left--except, perhaps, among a few of the Sonderbund

leaders--no ill-feeling behind. Some years later Dufour could write:

“The citizens of the old cantons (I.E. the Forest Cantons)

nearly all have pipes with my picture on them, and call me ‘Our little

Dufour.’” His long and useful life ended in 1875.

[Illustration: LAKE ZUG.]

[Illustration: INSANDHLWANA

BY C. STEIN]

About ten miles from the Buffalo river, which forms the eastern

frontier of Natal, rises conspicuous a tall, rocky, precipitous hill,

called in the language of the natives “Insandhlwana,” or “The place

of the little hand,” from a fancied resemblance in its form to an

outstretched hand. Near this hill was fought, on the 22nd January,

1879, one of the most desperate actions ever engaged in under the

British flag. Here, overwhelmed by numbers, an English force suffered

a complete and most disastrous defeat, and here, bravely facing

inevitable overthrow and death, English soldiers sternly answered to

the call of duty and fell with honour, grimly defiant to the last.

Of the actual details of the battle there are no complete records. The

men who could have furnished them lie under the shade of the hill, and

the veldt grass grows green over their silent and glorious bed. But

sufficient is known, as much from the subsequent testimony of their

gallant foes as from the words of the few survivors of the fatal field,

to tell us how determined, though unavailing, was the courage, how

great the self-abnegation, of the warriors who then maintained the

honour of our country.

Let us tell the story as far as it can be gathered, and if it ends with

no shout of victory, at least we can impress on our minds that the

heroic dead left a memory of which we may be sadly proud, and that they

were not found wanting in carrying on the noblest traditions of the

English people.

The Zulu kingdom was a military power that, under a line of despotic

and warlike sovereigns, had long been a standing menace to the English

colony of Natal and to the Transvaal, the Dutch Republic, which in

1878 was annexed by England. The first king of Zululand, Chaka, had so

organised his realm that it was always ready for war at short notice,

and his system was maintained by his successors--Dingaan, Panda, and

finally Cetewayo, who became monarch in 1872. Every able-bodied Zulu

was enrolled in one or other of the king’s regiments, and no one was

allowed to marry without the king’s permission. The permission to marry

was generally given as a mark of favour to a whole regiment at once for

long or good service, particularly if it had “bathed” its assegais--or,

in other words, had covered them with blood in conflict. The discipline

of the Zulu army was the sternest. Implicit obedience was required, and

every fault was punished with death. Cowardice was unknown, for the

coward dare not meet the vengeance and wrath of his king. The saying

of each man was, “I am the king’s ox”--meaning, I accept life or death

as the king may award, and my only business is to carry out his orders

without question. The burden of one of their war-songs was, “If I go

back I am killed; if I go on I am killed. It is better to go on.”

With such feelings, added to their natural fierceness and hardihood,

influencing a peculiarly powerful and athletic race of men, it may be

conceived how formidable was the Zulu array, and with how much truth it

came to be called “a very perfect man-slaying machine.”

Battles of the nineteenth century, vol. 1 of 7 · 第 20 / 52 段