THE FRANKENDÖR.
Sir Alexander Leslie, who was designated "Governor of all the cities
upon the Baltic coast," made a rapid and able survey of the whole
town; and, for its immediate defence, ordered the erection of new
barricades to defend our avenues, and batteries to sweep those of the
enemy. Fascines were made and filled with earth; all houses near the
gates were loopholed for musketry, and had their lower rooms filled
with stones and rubbish, to prevent the passage of the German
cannon-shot; while all edifices of every kind that impeded the fire
of our batteries or musketry, were instantly levelled to the ground.
In every way the Scottish marshal proved himself worthy of the high
trust reposed in him by the allied princes of the north. While some
of our soldiers who had been bakers (or, as we call them, _baxters_),
were ordered to prepare vast quantities of biscuit for the garrison
and the citizens, others were employed in making up ball-cartridges,
cannon baskets, platforms, and other military works. New wells were
sunk, the old repaired, and tanks were filled with water, while the
hospitals were cleaned out and purified. Amid all this lively
bustle--which was a severe reprehension on the inertness of Colonel
Holka--the poor citizens forgot the horrors of their two months'
siege, and worked among our soldiers with ardour and satisfaction.
Wallenstein was aware that 5000 Scots had entered the city under
Leslie, whom he knew to be the most able general of the great
Gustavus. He was also aware, by what he knew of Leslie's military
character, acuteness, and resources, that, unless crushed, he might
be foiled before that city, he had so solemnly sworn to win; thus,
taking advantage of the unusual commotion within it, he made a fresh
reconnaissance, and, observing that the Frankendör was the weakest
and least defensible post, resolved on assailing it during that night.
Our soldiers were bivouacked within this ravelin that overlooked the
Frankenlake. There I had left them for an hour to visit Ernestine;
but the hour gradually extended from one to two, and from two to
three, and the church clocks which still survived the various
bombardings of the last few weeks, were just striking the hour of
eleven, on the 24th of June--a day by old memories the dearest to a
Scottish heart--when the report of two heavy cannon fired from the
citadel, pealed over the roofs and streets of the unfortunate town,
announcing a night attack.
The thought flashed like lightning upon me, that the regiment might
be engaged--that I had been three hours absent, and that Sir Donald
might miss me from my post. Thus, to start up, to snatch my sword
and steel-bonnet, to press my lip to the pale cheek of Ernestine, and
hurry into the street, were all the work of a moment, and I was away!
A storm was raging, and though the season was summer, and the month
was June, it was a severe one. A torrent of rain had fallen, and a
tempest of wind had swept over the city, levelling many of the
shattered houses on the stray passengers and on our working parties;
but I had been so pleasantly occupied during my tête-à-tête with
Ernestine, that I had heard nothing of it; and now, on issuing into
the street, I was surprised to find it covered by puddles of mud and
water, while dust, fragments of tiles, and wet leaves, were swept
past me on the hurrying wind. Dark clouds enveloped the sky, and
after pausing for a moment in the dark and unlighted thoroughfare,
irresolute which way to turn, the report of a volley of musketry drew
me towards a part of the long and deserted way, by which I reached
the Frankendör, arriving just in time to find my comrades about to be
engaged, and our drums beating the _Point of War_. Being wetted by
the rain their sound was dull and hollow, but the wild pipes were
shrill and high as ever.
Though the scenery was flat and level, there was something impressive
and terrific in the storm, and the night was so dark, that, when I
assumed command of my company at one of the faces of the ravelin, I
could not discern the enemy.
Before us lay the dark bosom of the Frankenlake; above was a black
and stormy sky, where enormous masses of vapour were rolling and
intermingling on the wings of that squalling wind, which swept over
Stralsund in loud and incessant gusts. The rain had ceased, and
there was at times a close, oppressive, and sulphurous heat.
Suddenly, like a mighty gorge between two black mountains, the clouds
were divided in heaven; a lambent light edged with brilliance their
torn and rugged outlines, and the forked lightning was shot from the
opening, like long red arrows of fire.
For a moment, while these levin brands were lighting earth and heaven
with their ghastly glare, we could distinctly perceive the bastions
of the ravelin, and the ranks of the regiment; for all its bonnets of
steel, and bright musket-barrels, glittered in the gleam above the
stone parapet and redoubts of turf. I could see the strong beeches,
bending like willows before the breath of the sweeping storm, the
turgid waters of the Frankenlake, and the countless bright
points--helmets, pike-heads and musket-barrels, cuirasses and
standards, of two vast columns of infantry, that moved stealthily
round each flank of its margin, to assail on two quarters the post we
had orders to defend to the last--the Frankendör--the most untenable,
and the weakest redoubt in the whole city of Stralsund.
The lightning passed away; the bright edges faded from the clouds,
and the bosom of the lake and all its banks vanished into darkness,
as instantaneously as they had become visible; but we had seen enough
to acquaint us with the force, disposition, and intentions of the foe.
The thunder then rattled in deep hoarse peals across the sky, and
died away in echoes over the isle of Rügen, and along the Pomeranian
shore.
"Now, my brave lads--cock up your bonnets!" cried Sir Donald, whose
deep and powerful voice rose above even the howling of the stormy
wind; "'tis the enemy--the Imperialists, who mean to beat up our
quarters, and have sworn to beat us out of them; so let us give these
gentlemen a good account of ourselves. Musketeers--look to your
pouches and hammer-stalls."
These leather covers, by which our men protected their locks and
matches from rain, were instantly unstrapped from the muskets, the
pouches were opened, and I could perceive the red glow-worm-like
gleam, as each musketeer lit his match at his comrade's lock, and all
stood ready to fire upon the enemy, waiting only for the order in
silence, and amid a stillness broken only by the sweeping gusts.
Another gleam of light shot between an opening in the clouds, and we
saw the advancing columns nearer still--so near that their ladders,
and other paraphernalia of escalade, were visible. Then the colonel
spoke to the pipers who stood by his side, and the onset burst from
their instruments; but the scream of the chanters and bray of the
drones were lost and drowned in the roar of the musketry, for seven
hundred barrels of steel were levelled at once over the parapet, and
seven hundred flashes of red fire burst at once upon the murky night.
Again the arms were loaded, and the rattle of iron ramrods and brass
butts!--the bustle of charging home the cartridges, casting about,
blowing matches, and priming pans, became incessant; and with no
other light to guide them than the occasional gleams of lightning,
our soldiers poured volley after volley, on those close ridges of
helmets, strewing the route of the Imperialists with dead and dying
men.
Wild hurrahs, shrieks, and outcries, were tossed towards us on the
gusty wind, or were borne away to the seaward; and now, to add
tenfold grandeur to the terrible and magnificent scene, the
Imperialists shot a succession of fireballs into the air, and each
one, as it soared like a mountain of fire, shed a flood of brilliance
upon the rippled lake, the smoky ravelin, and the columns of Spanish
and Austrian musketeers who were pouring forward to the attack. The
explosion of these fireballs, which sprung like rockets above the
lake and sheeted it with light, until they fell, to splutter, hiss,
and float upon its surface (for neither wind nor water could
extinguish their flames), had a most fatal effect for the assailants
themselves, by enabling us to direct our fire upon them with the
deadliest precision.
"Unhorse me yonder fellow with the Red Plume!" said Sir Donald
Mackay. "By my father's soul! 'tis his example alone that leads yon
wavering column on! Down with him! level surely--Gillian M'Bane,
thou art a deadly shot at a red deer or a capercailzie. My silver
brooch to thine, if thou makest yonder fellow kiss the turf."
"'Tis Rupert-with-the-Red-plume!" cried a hundred voices. My heart
leaped at the cry; but, before I could speak, Gillian M'Bane had
fired, and I could perceive the cavalier indicated by the
colonel--and who was an officer magnificently armed and accoutred,
brandishing his long sword, and conspicuous by a scarlet plume--reel
in his saddle; but the shot had only cut the lacing of his helmet,
which rolled among his horse's feet; and still he pressed on, with
his long grizzled hair, and longer cavalier-lock streaming on the
wind.
"Spare that officer!" I exclaimed, striking up five or six levelled
muskets with my sword. "I owe him my life, and more than my life;
besides, he is my own near kinsman, though he serves the German
emperor."
I spoke but in time! another moment had sent the poor count into
eternity; for among our soldiers there were some of the most deadly
marksmen, with bow or musket, that the Highlands could produce. For
a whole hour we held the foe completely in check, and with
comparatively little loss; for our parapet was breast high, and in
many places defended or strengthened by the tambour work of
palisades, which were ten feet long and each six inches thick, driven
into the glacis three deep, and closely loopholed. These had been
considerably injured by the discharges of the camarade battery; still
they afforded us some protection, while, on the other hand, the
Imperial columns suffered dreadfully.
Their front ranks were enveloped in smoke, from whence broke forth
incessant flashes of fire; but, after four desperate attempts to
cross the ditch and ascend the lower glacis, they were compelled to
retire beyond the lake. The Spaniards fled with precipitation; but
the Germans retreated slowly, with all the coolness, steadiness, and
constitutional phlegm of their nation, and continued to fire
occasional shots so long as we were within range of them.
By this time day had broken; a faint grey light had begun to steal
along the waters of the Sound, gilding the church spires of
Stralsund, the summits of the isle of Rugen, and whitening the pallid
faces of the dead, who lay in hundreds by the shore of the
Frankenlake, with distorted visages, eyeballs glazed, and jaws
relaxed; for the aspect of those who die under the agony of gunshot
wounds is often horrible.
The bright midsummer sun came up in his morning glory above the isle
of Rugen, and the birds, as they sang their songs to the early day,
twittered among the terrible debris of the past night's deadly work.
The dew was on the verdant grass, and the bright flowers were raising
their heavy cups and petals to that warm summer sun; but many a
strong and many a brave man lay there, whose head would never rise
again.
Many were lying there bleeding to death and crying aloud for help and
for water; neither of which we could render, as the camarade battery
and the fieldpieces had resumed their operations against the sconce;
but many of the poor wretches crawled like bruised snails to the
reedy margin of the shallow lake, and there perished miserably among
the mud and slime, in futile efforts to quench their burning thirst.
During the whole day a cannonade was poured from every part of the
city upon the trenches of Wallenstein, and with eighty pieces of
cannon he replied. The walls seemed to be garlanded with fire, while
the smoke ascended into mid air, and overhung all Stralsund. Before
us, from one flank of the Imperial lines to the other, including the
whole lake, long wreaths of pale blue smoke were floating, and in
their bosom we heard the boom of the cannon, as the parallels drew
nearer and more near, with the occasional patter of the quicker
musketry.
Wallenstein, the soul of battle, had now for the first time found, in
Leslie of Balgonie, an antagonist who was more than his equal, and
who taught him the folly and impiety of the oath he had sworn--to
storm Stralsund, even though it were slung in chains between the
heavens and earth.
So passed the day, and in the streets, on the walls, and by the
ravelins, as well as in the trenches of the enemy, the loss of life
was terrible; but towards evening the cannonade began to slacken,
when the pieces became too hot for loading.
On the right flank of the Frankendör a low vapour seemed to approach
us, and steel was seen to glitter amidst it at times. A few balls
from a demi-cannon searched its dark womb, and then we saw a column
of horse retire with precipitation.
So closed the day.