TO THE RHINE!
'To Paris! To Paris! Hoch Germania!'
Such were the cries that rang along the line of march, when on the
1st of August the various columns of the German army began to meet
those which left Paris shouting 'To Berlin!'
After detailing much that savours of what may seem romance, we have
now to borrow a paragraph or two from the history of Europe.
Perfect in organization, the forces which the Prussian Government
were able to bring to the frontier a few days after the declaration
of war against France were divided into three great armies, making a
grand total of four hundred and twelve thousand infantry, and
forty-seven thousand eight hundred cavalry, with one thousand four
hundred and forty pieces of cannon.
The first of these three armies was commanded by Major General
Steinmetz, the second by Prince Frederick Charles, and the third by
the Crown Prince--the whole being under the orders of the King of
Prussia, assisted by General Count Von Moltke, a distinguished Dane,
as chief of his staff.
Strong reserves were posted at Hainau, Frankfort, at the old
electoral city of Mayence, and amidst the vast defences of Coblentz
between the Rhine and the Moselle. Another army defended the north,
under Von Falkenstein; so taken altogether, including the Landwehr,
Prussia, with her million and a quarter of well-drilled soldiery,
seemed impregnable.
Charlie Pierrepont's regiment was formed in brigade with the 7th, or
King's Grenadiers, and the 37th, or Westphalians. The war
establishment of a Prussian regiment is never less than 3,006 men,
with 69 officers. His brigade was among the first troops actively
employed, with orders to occupy the line of the Saar, resting its
right on Saarbrück, with advanced posts at that place and in the
schloss of the Princes of Nassau, at Saarlouis, which had been
fortified by Vauban, at Bliescastle, where the Prussians and French
fought a great battle in 1793, and at Merzig.
The second army, with the royal headquarters, crossed the Rhine at
Mayence, and took a position on the left of General Steinmetz,
occupied Zweibrucken (which the French had named Deux Ponts), and
Pirmasens, with its main body echeloned along the line of railway
from the ruined castle of the Counts of Sickingen at Landstuhl to the
strong fortress of Landau.
The third army came on by the way of Mannheim and Germesheim, and
formed to the left of the second, at the latter place, Speirs,
Neustadt, and Landau. All these formidable columns could communicate
with each other by railway, and were well secured in the rear in case
of having to retreat. But no thought of retreating was in the
Prussian ranks.
From the suddenness and efficiency of these arrangements, it was
clear 'that Count Bismarck and his master had been long and actively
preparing for war, and had not been entirely absorbed in peaceful and
innocent designs, as we were constantly assured by certain writers in
this country, who desired to present France to the world as a crafty
and ravening wolf, and Prussia a meek and inoffensive lamb.'
Something of this kind was said by Heinrich to Charlie, as their
brigade approached Saarbrück. But the latter would scarcely admit
it, as his love for Ernestine, and his high military enthusiasm, made
him, for the time, 'German all over--German at fever-heat,' as he
said.
And splendid was the aspect of the strong brigade, with the King's
Grenadiers in front, the Westphalians in the centre, and the 95th
Thuringians in the rear, as it defiled across the bridge that led to
the suburb of St. Johann, each battalion with its carts of reserve
ammunition, drawn by six horses. After each battalion, also, came
thirteen baggage and one canteen waggon, all the brass drums beating
smartly to make the men step quick. The colours of the King's
Grenadiers, black and white; of the other corps, black, white, and
red--the standard of the North German Confederation--were floating in
the wind, above the long lines of spiked helmets, and of bright
bayonets and brighter musket barrels sloped in the sunshine, for the
Prussian arms are not browned as ours are now, but pure, white steel.
Hence the glitter over all the column was great, though the uniforms
were sombre and blue.
Anon the brass bands struck up between the echoing streets of
Saarbrück; but amid all the enthusiasm of the time, the crash of the
martial music, the measured tramping of thousands of marching feet,
Charlie's mind could not help reverting to those happy moments in the
stair of the Hoch Munster, and the sadder ones in the quiet little
church of Burtscheid, and, in memory, he still saw the rosy,
trembling lips of the girl he loved, and the full bosom that rose and
fell with sobs and sighs.
When would he be marching home, and what might happen then? Would it
come to pass that he might never return, but find a grave in the soil
of France? They were now within thirty miles of Metz. He cast a
backward glance to where the rearguard was descending a slope, and,
as if to reply to his surmises, there came marching with it a corps
of grave-diggers, for a force of this kind was attached to every
column, while 'by an arrangement characterised by a grim horror, yet
unquestionably useful,' every Prussian officer and soldier was
ordered to wear round his neck a label, to establish his identity in
case of his being killed.
These reflections were but momentary, so Charlie's spirit rose again,
and his heart beat responsive to the sharp and regulated crash of the
drums; for there is much elasticity of mind in healthy twenty-eight
or thirty years, and Charlie's were no more.
The enthusiasm all over Germany was unquestionably great at this
time, and as a specimen of it, Heinrich told Charlie, exultingly, how
his father's old comrade and brother officer, Field Marshal the Count
Von Wrangel, then in the eighty-fourth year of his age, on seeing his
old regiment, the 3rd Cuirassiers, marching through Berlin, had
petitioned the king for leave to join them as a private, as he was
now too aged to lead; but the king declined the offer of the brave
old man, and requested him to remain in Berlin, and make himself
useful in a more peaceable way.
On the early morning of the 2nd of August, Charlie Pierrepont was
subaltern of the out-picket posted on the road that leads direct from
the open town of Saarbrück towards Metz, where then the Emperor
Napoleon III. commanded in person. He had returned from visiting his
line of advanced sentinels, all of whom stood motionless, with musket
ordered and bayonet fixed, with their faces turned in the direction
of Metz, each longing, no doubt, for the relief and a pipe. Stiff,
and chilled with the rain and dew of the summer night, Charlie shook
himself, as a dog might do, and proceeded to light a cigar and look
around him, as the dawn brightened, little foreseeing that this would
be one of the most important days in the new current of events.
He could see the Saar winding in and out at the foot of a chain of
hills, covered to their summits by beautiful oaks and beeches. Here
and there the red precipices started up from the bed of the stream;
for the rocks and the soil were red, and even the river was red, too,
for rain had fallen overnight.
The scene looked lovely and peaceful. Red stones, spotted with
orange-coloured lichens, lay plentifully in the bed of the Saar,
where a solitary kingfisher wound about among the water-weeds. Here
and there at the narrower parts of the stream, an occasional peasant
was fishing with a tub and sink-net, and beyond lay the plain, where
Saarlouis' ramparts rose above the swampy fields, where herds of
cattle plashed disconsolately about.
'Guten morgen, Carl!' cried a familiar voice, and on looking up, he
saw Heinrich hurrying towards him. 'I have news for you.'
'Are the enemy in motion?
'As your post is an advanced one, you should be the first to know of
that. My news is from the rear.'
'From the rear!'
'How dull you are, Carl--from Frankenburg! Here, take a pull at my
bottle; your own is, no doubt, empty by this time.'
'Thanks!'
Charlie took a few mouthfuls from the metal flask of brandy-and-water
that Heinrich wore slung over his shoulder in a belt, and said--
'Now for your news, friend; it is not pleasant, I fear, when you
fortify me thus.'
'Anything must be pleasant that comes to us from the girls we love.
The field-post has just come. I have a letter from Herminia, Carl,
with a little enclosure for you.'
It was a note--merely a note, on scented and tinted paper, for
Ernestine was not above these feminine prettinesses, written in her
graceful style and lady-like hand--to say that he was never absent
from her thoughts, and how she and Herminia had wept and prayed in
secret on the night the army crossed the Rhine.
'I fear, Carl, that I am looking ill and pale,' she continued, 'but
sunny-haired Herminia seems to thrive on her grief; but you know she
is ever all dimples--dimples on her white elbows and chin, cheeks,
and hands--soft jolly dimples. Mamma, tired of knitting--she always
knits as if her livelihood depended upon it--has dozed off to sleep,
with her Spitz pug under her lace shawl in the boudoir. (The
boudoir! Do you ever think of it, and that horrible night when she
surprised us while searching for that miserable little cur?) Papa,
as dinner is over, is smoking in his study, among his fishing and
shooting gear, pistols, guns, whips, collars, and whistles, no doubt
drinking to the health of the Kaiser and studying the _Staats
Anzeiger_. All is unchanged since you left Frankenburg, from whence
my heart goes with this to you, my dearest Betrothed of Burtscheid.'
Charlie was perusing this for the third time, Heinrich was lolling
beside him on the grass, humming '_Du du_,' and idly playing with his
silver sword-knot, while watching the bright morning sunshine
stealing along the wooded hills and winding river, when suddenly
there was the report of a needle-gun in front. Another, another, and
a third followed, as the whole line of advanced sentinels opened
fire, and the out-picket rushed to their arms and fell in their ranks.
'Sapperment!' exclaimed young Frankenburg, springing to his feet; 'it
has come at last! This is war! The French are in motion in front;
there will soon be work for the grave-digger corps!'
So opened the day on which the young Napoleon was to receive his
'baptism of fire.'