Seven o'clock, and yet not the slightest movement was perceptible in
the valley. From time to time Doctor Lorquin would throw up the sash of
a window in the house-room, and look out; there was nothing stirring;
the fires were out; all was still and silent.
Opposite the farm, about a hundred paces off, on a sloping wall, lay
the Cossack shot the evening before by Kasper; he was white as snow,
and hard as a flint.
Within doors, a large fire was burning brightly in the stove. Louise
was sitting beside her father, and regarding him with a look of
ineffable sweetness; it seemed as if she feared she might never see him
again; her red eyes betrayed that she had just been shedding tears.
Hullin, though firm, seemed greatly moved.
The doctor and the Anabaptist, both grave and solemn, were talking of
present affairs, and Lagarmitte was listening to them attentively.
"We have not only the right, but it is also our duty, to defend
ourselves," the doctor was saying; "these woods were laid out and
cultivated by our fathers; they are our lawful property."
"No doubt," replied the Anabaptist, in a sententious tone; "but it
is written, 'Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not shed thy brother's
blood.'"
Catherine Lefévre, who was just at that time busy with a rasher of
ham, and who was doubtless tired of this discussion, turned sharply
round, and replied, "Which means that, if we were of your religion, the
Germans, the Russians, and all the other red men would be allowed to
have everything their own way. Yours is a famous religion; yes, famous
for such scum as those! It gives them the license to rob and plunder
all who are better off than themselves. The Allies would like us to
have such a one, no doubt! Unluckily, every one is not of the same
opinion. We are not all like sheep, ready for the slaughter; and I, for
one, Pelsly, without meaning any offence to you, think it is rather
stupid to fatten oneself for the good of others. For all that, you are
worthy people, no doubt; no one can say to the contrary; you have been
reared from father to son in the same ideas: like father, like son. But
we intend to defend ourselves, in spite of you; and when all is over,
you shall make us speeches on the subject of eternal peace. I am very
fond of listening to lectures on peace when I've nothing else to do,
and am sitting by the fire after dinner; it does me good to hear them."
Having spoken in this way, she turned to the fire, and went on quietly
cooking her ham.
Pelsly remained staring open-mouthed at her, and Doctor Lorquin could
not restrain a smile.
At the same moment, the door opened, and one of the sentinels on duty
outside called out: "Master Jean-Claude, come and see; I think they are
on the alert."
"All right, Simon, I am coming," said Hullin, rising. "Louise, kiss me;
courage, my child; do not be afraid; all will go well."
He pressed her to his breast, his eyes swimming with tears. For her
part, she seemed more dead than alive. "And above all," said the worthy
man, addressing Catherine, "let nobody go out, and let none approach
the windows."
Then he rushed hastily forth.
All the spectators had turned pale.
When Master Jean-Claude had reached the edge of the terrace, casting
his eyes over Grandfontaine and Framont, which lay about nine thousand
feet below him, this is what he saw.
The Germans arrived the evening before, some hours after the Cossacks,
having passed the night, to the number of five or six thousand, in the
barns, stables, and outhouses, were now bustling and hurrying about in
all directions. It was a regular ant-hill. They were issuing from every
door in files of ten, fifteen, and twenty, hastening to buckle on their
knapsacks, hook on their swords, and fix their bayonets.
Others, horsemen, Cossacks, hussars in green, grey, and blue uniforms,
trimmed with red and yellow; caps of oil-skin, sheepskin, shakos, and
helmets, were saddling their horses, and hastily rolling up their large
holsters.
The officers, their cloaks flung over their arms, were descending the
little narrow stairs, some with upturned heads scanning the country
round, others kissing the women on the threshold of the houses they
were leaving.
The trumpeters, one hand resting on their hips, the other elbow aloft,
were sounding the rappel at every corner of the street; the drummers
were tightening the cords of their drums. In short, in this space,
which, seen from a distance, looked like a hand's-breadth, might be
seen every description of military attitude at the moment of departure.
Some peasants, leaning out of their windows, were watching all this;
the women showed themselves at the windows of the lofts. The innkeepers
were busy filling flasks, corporal _schlague_[9] standing beside them.
Hullin had a quick eye, nothing escaped him: he took in all this at a
glance, and besides, he had been used to this sort of thing for many
a long year; but Lagarmitte, who had never seen anything of the kind
before, was stupefied with surprise:
"There are a good many of them!" said he, shaking his head.
"Ah! bah! what does that prove?" said Hullin. "In my time, we have
exterminated three armies of fifty thousand of the same race, in six
months; we were not one against four. All those you see there would not
have made our breakfast. And besides, you may make your mind easy, we
shall not need to kill them all; they'll fly before us like hares. I've
seen that before now!"
After these sage reflections, he judged it prudent to go and inspect
his company again.
"Come on!" said he to the shepherd.
They both then, advancing behind the barricades, shaped their course
along a path cut through the snow two days before. These snows,
hardened by the frost, were now become as solid and firm as ice. The
trees, as they lay in front all covered with hoar-frost, formed an
impenetrable barrier, which extended for about six hundred metres. The
road lay hollowed out below.
As he approached, Jean-Claude saw the mountaineers of the Dagsberg,
crouching at intervals of twenty paces in a sort of round nests which
they had dug out for themselves.
All these brave fellows were sitting on their knapsacks, their flask on
their right, their hats, or fox-skin caps, pushed to the back of their
necks, their guns between their knees. They had only to rise in order
to see the road at fifty paces beneath them, at the foot of a slippery
descent.
They were delighted to see Hullin.
"Eh! Master Jean-Claude, is it going to begin soon?"
"Yes, my lads; don't be afraid; before an hour we shall be hard at it."
"Ah! So much the better!"
"Yes, but above all, mind your aim; breast high; don't be in a hurry;
and be careful to show no more flesh than is necessary."
"Never fear, Master Jean-Claude."
He went farther on; everywhere he was received in the same way.
"Do not forget," said he, "to stop firing when Lagarmitte sounds his
horn. We must have no waste of powder and shot."
When he came up with old Materne, who commanded all these men, to the
number of about two hundred and fifty, he found the old huntsman just
preparing to smoke a pipe, his nose as red as a live coal, and his
beard bristling with cold like a wild boar.
"Ah! is that you, Jean-Claude?"
"Yes, I've come to shake hands with you."
"All right; but tell me--they seem in no hurry to come--if they should
happen to pass another way?"
"No fear of that. They must take this road for the artillery and
baggage. Hark! there's the bugle--to boot and saddle!"
"Yes, I saw that before; they are preparing." Then, with a low chuckle:
"You don't know, Jean-Claude, just now, as I was looking towards
Grandfontaine, what a droll thing I saw."
"What was that, old boy?"
"I saw four Germans lay hold of the fat Dubreuil, the friend of the
Allies; they laid him down on the stone bench at his door, and one tall
bony fellow gave him I don't know how many blows with a stout stick
over his back. Didn't he bellow, the old rascal! I'll wager he has
refused something to his good friends; his old wine of the year 1811,
for instance."
Hullin listened no further, for happening to cast a glance down upon
the valley, he had just seen a regiment of infantry debouch on the
road. Farther off, in the street, the cavalry were advancing, with five
or six officers galloping at their head.
"Ah! ha! they are coming now in good earnest," exclaimed the old
soldier, whose countenance suddenly assumed an expression of energy and
strange enthusiasm.
Then he sprang upon the trench, exclaiming:
"My children, attention!"
As he passed, he caught a glimpse of Riffi, the little tailor of the
Charmes, leaning upon a long gun; the little man had made a step in the
snow to take aim. Higher up he recognised also the old wood-cutter,
Rochart, with his big sabots trimmed with sheepskin; he was taking a
hearty draught from his flask, and then slowly raising himself up,
with his carbine under his arm, and his cotton cap over his ear.
And that was all; for in order to survey the whole sphere of action, it
was necessary for him to climb to the summit of the Donon, where there
is a rock.
Lagarmitte followed him, stretching out his long legs as if he were
walking on stilts. Ten minutes after, when they had arrived quite out
of breath at the top of the rock, they perceived at four thousand odd
feet below them the enemy's column of about three thousand men, with
long white coats, cloth gaiters, tall shakos, and red moustaches; the
young officers with flat cap, riding at regular distances among the
troops, caracoling on horseback, sword in hand, and turning round from
time to time to call out, in a shrill voice: "_Forvertz! Forvertz!_"
(Forward! Forward!)
And this body bristled with glittering bayonets and advanced at full
charge towards the barricades.
Old Materne, his long hawk's nose peering over the branch of a
juniper tree, had also observed, with raised eyebrows, the arrival of
the Germans. And as he was very clear-sighted, he was able even to
distinguish faces among all this crowd; and picked out the one whom he
would bring down himself.
In the middle of the column, mounted on a tall bay horse, there
came riding straight towards them an old officer with a white wig,
three-cornered lace hat, his form enveloped in a yellow mantle, and
his breast decorated with orders. When this personage raised his head,
the corner of his hat, surmounted by a tuft of black feathers, formed
a target. He had long wrinkles in his cheeks, and seemed to be no
chicken.
"That's my man!" said the old huntsman to himself, taking aim leisurely.
He cocked his gun, fired, and when he looked, the old officer had
disappeared.
Immediately the mountain-side was ablaze with shots the whole length
of the entrenchments; but the Germans, without answering, continued to
advance towards the entrenchments, gun on shoulder, and keeping the
ranks as steadily as if they were on parade.
If the truth must be told, more than one brave mountaineer, the
father of a family, when he saw that forest of bayonets which kept on
advancing up the mountain, in spite of the shots that were poured on
them, began to think that he might perhaps have done better to stay at
home in his village than to thrust himself into such an affair. But as
the proverb says: "The wine is drawn; it must be drunk!"
Riffi, the little tailor, bethought him of the prudent warning of his
wife, Sapience: "Riffi, you will get lamed for life, and that will be a
pretty job!"
He promised a superb offering to the chapel of St. Léon if he came back
safe and sound from the war; but at the same time he resolved to make
good use of his long gun.
Two hundred paces from the barricades the Germans halted and opened
a running fire such as had never before been heard on the mountain:
it was a regular buzz of shots; balls by hundreds hacked down the
branches, made bits of ice leap up in all directions, came crashing
down upon the rocks, to the right, to the left, before, behind. They
came hissing and whistling through the air at times as thick as a flock
of pigeons.
This did not prevent the mountaineers from keeping up their fire, but
it could no longer be heard. All the mountain-side was wrapped in a
bluish smoke which made it difficult to take aim.
At the end of about ten minutes, the roll of the drum was heard, and
all that mass of men began to charge at the abattis, officers as well
as others, shouting "_Forvertz!_"
The ground trembled beneath them.
Materne, drawing himself up to his full height, by the side of the
trench, with a voice terrible in its emotion, cried, "Up! Up!"
It was time, for a good number of those Germans, almost all of them
students of philosophy, law, or medicine, scarred in skirmishes at
Munich, Jena, and elsewhere, and who fought against us because they had
been promised that their liberties should be granted them after the
downfall of Napoleon; all these intrepid young fellows began to crawl
on all-fours over the ice, and attempted to leap into the entrenchments.
But as fast as they climbed up the sides of the mountains, they were
stunned with the butt-ends of the guns, and fell back among their ranks
like hail.
It was at this juncture that there was witnessed an act of bravery on
the part of the old wood-cutter, Rochart. Singlehanded he overthrew
more than ten of those sons of old Germany. Seizing them under the
arms, he flung them back upon the road. Old Materne had his bayonet
reeking with blood. And the little tailor Riffi kept incessantly
reloading his great gun, and firing energetically upon the heaving,
struggling crowd below; and Joseph Larnette, who unfortunately received
a shot in the eye; Hans Baumgarten, who had his shoulder fractured;
Daniel Spitz, who lost two fingers by a sword-thrust; and a crowd of
others whose names will be honoured and revered from generation to
generation, never ceased for one second to load and discharge their
guns.
Below, nothing was heard but fearful shouts and cries; and above,
nothing was to be seen but bristling bayonets, and men on horseback.
This state of things lasted a good quarter of an hour; no one knew
what the Germans intended to do, since they could not clear a passage.
Nearly all the students had fallen, and the others, old campaigners,
used to honourable retreats, did not throw themselves into the fray
with the same ardour.
They began by beating a retreat, slowly; then more quickly. The
officers, behind them, struck them with the flat of their swords;
shots came whizzing after them, and finally, they fled with as much
precipitation as they had advanced in good order.
Materne, standing erect upon his eminence, with fifty others round him,
brandished his carbine, laughing heartily.
At the foot of the ascent heaps of the wounded were dragging themselves
painfully along. The trampled snow was red with blood. In the midst of
the heaps of dead were to be seen two young officers, still alive, but
crushed and entangled under the corpses of their horses.
It was a horrible sight! But men are really ferocious; there was not
one among the mountaineers who pitied these unfortunates; on the
contrary, the more of them they saw, the more rejoiced they were.
The little tailor, Riffi, at this moment, flushed with a noble
enthusiasm, let himself slide down the whole length of the steep
ascent. He had just perceived, a little to the left, below the
barricades, a superb horse, that of the colonel shot by Materne, and
which was standing quietly in a corner, safe and sound.
[Illustration: "AS THEY CLIMBED UP THEY WERE BRAINED."]
"You shall be mine," said he to himself; "won't Sapience be astonished,
that's all!"
All the others envied him. He seized the horse by the bridle, and got
upon his back. But judge of the general astonishment, and that of Riffi
above all, when the noble animal set off at full gallop towards his
friends the Germans.
The little tailor raised his hands to heaven, invoking all the saints.
Materne had half a mind to fire, but he was afraid, as the horse was
going at such a furious pace.
They were no sooner in the midst of the enemy's bayonets than Riffi
vanished out of sight.
Every one thought he had been massacred; an hour after, however, they
saw him passing down the principal street of Grandfontaine with his
hands tied behind his back, and corporal _schlague_ behind him with his
uplifted cane.
Poor Riffi! he alone was not fated to share in the day's triumph; and
his comrades were even led to laugh at his unhappy fate, just as if it
had happened to a _Kaiserlick_.
Such is the nature of men; provided they are happy themselves, the
misery of others concerns them but little.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 9: Drum-major.]