THE FRENCH DEFENSE
They flew on in the darkness, and both remained silent. John at first
had felt resentment against Lannes, but he reflected that this was war,
and it was no worse to kill with a bomb in the air than with a shell on
land. It was hard, however, to convince oneself that destruction and
death were sovereigns in Europe.
After a long time Lannes pointed to the east, where a thin gray was
showing.
"The sun will soon be up," he said, "and it will drive the last cloud
before it. We're going to have a fine day. Look down at this, our
France, Monsieur Jean the Scott, and see what a beautiful land it is!
Can you wonder that we don't want the armed feet of the Germans to tread
it down?"
The darkness was shredding away so fast that John got a clear view. He
was surprised, too, to find how low they were flying. They were not more
than a hundred yards above the tops of the trees, and the glorious
country was all that Lannes had claimed for it.
He saw woods heavy in foliage, fields checkered in green and brown,
white roads, neat villages and farm houses, and the spires of churches.
It seemed impossible that war should come upon such a land. This word
"impossible" was often recurring to John. It was impossible that all
Europe should go to war and yet the impossible was happening. The world
would not allow twenty million men to spring at one another's throats,
and yet they were doing it.
Lannes suddenly uttered a deep "Ah!" and pointed with a long forefinger.
"Our camp," he said. "On the hill about five miles to the left. The
planes have seen us. Three are coming to meet us."
John saw the camp distinctly through the glasses, a long intrenched
position on a low, broad hill, many guns in front and many horses in the
rear, with the banners of France floating over the works.
"We'll be there soon," said Lannes joyfully. "Here, John, wave this!"
He took a small French flag from the locker and John waved it with
vigor. The fastest of the planes was soon beside them and Lannes called
out gayly:
"The Arrow, Philip Lannes at the rudder, and John Scott, an American,
who is going to fight with us, as passenger and comrade!"
Thus they flew into the republican camp, and a great crowd came forward
to meet them. Lannes stepped out of the Arrow, saluted an officer in the
uniform of a captain, and asked:
"What corps is this?"
"That of General Avillon."
"Then, sir, would you be so good as to conduct me to his headquarters? I
have been in both Berlin and Vienna in disguise, and on service for our
government. I have information and minute maps."
"Come with me at once," said the officer eagerly.
"I ask you to make my comrade comfortable while I am gone. He is an
American, John Scott, whom an accident threw with me. He is the bravest
of the brave and he's going to serve with us."
Lannes was dramatic and impressive. Again he was the center of a scene
that he loved, and, as always, he made the most of it. John reddened at
his high praise, and would have withdrawn farther into the crowd, but
enthusiastic young officers about him would not let him. "Vive
l'Americain!" they shouted and patted him on the shoulders.
Lannes went at once with the captain, and John was left with his new
friends. Friends, in truth they were, and their enthusiasm grew as he
told of their extraordinary flight, their battle with the Taubes, and
the destruction of the Zeppelin by Lannes. Then their applause became
thunder, and, seeing it in the distance and the perspective, John became
more reconciled to the throwing of the bomb. War was killing and one
could not change it.
While they heard his story and cheered him the French did not neglect
his comfort. Young officers, many of whom were mere boys, insisted upon
entertaining this guest from the air. It was so early that they had not
yet had their own breakfasts, and while different groups fought for him
he finally sat down beside a fire with a dozen lieutenants of about his
own age.
The food was abundant and good, and, as he ate and drank, he was
compelled to tell their story over again.
"I'm glad Lannes got that monster, the Zeppelin," said one of the young
lieutenants. "God knows we've had little enough success so far. They say
we were ready for war, and had planned to strike. But it was the Germans
who struck. That proves who had done the planning. They say that our
officers were in Belgium, making ready for the French army to march
through that country, and yet when the Germans pushed into Belgium they
found no French. The accusation refutes itself."
"Are the Germans in Belgium?" asked John, astonished.
"With a great army, and England has declared herself. She is sending a
force to our help. You will not lack for comrades who speak your own
tongue."
"We thought we heard last night the sounds of a battle."
"You thought right. It was we who were fighting it, and we were
defeated. We were driven back many miles, but we were not beaten, man to
man. With even numbers we could have held them, but they were three or
four to one, and they have monster cannon which far outrange ours."
"It was one of those giant guns I heard, because we heard nothing else.
Are the Germans coming forward for another attack?"
"We don't know. Our aeroplanes report no movement in their camp, but the
sun has scarcely risen yet. Still we all think they'll come. We know
it's their plan to make a gigantic rush on Paris. Our spies report that
their most frequent boast is: 'Ten days to France and twenty days to
Paris.' Well, the first part of it is more than fulfilled."
Silence and sadness fell over the group of brave young men. John's heart
was filled with sympathy for them. His nature was one that invariably
took the part of invaded against invaders, and the invaders had already
struck a mighty blow. But it was he, as yet a stranger among them, who
restored cheerfulness.
"I've been with one Frenchman through adventures and dangers, of which I
never dreamed," he said. "Never once did his hand or eye waver. I know
that there are hundreds of thousands of Frenchmen like him, and such men
can't fail."
"Thank you," one of them said simply. "We Frenchmen of the Third
Republic shall try to fight as well as the Frenchmen of the First
Republic, and we'll pray that our allies, the English, may come soon."
John was silent. He knew even better than they how necessary was the
arrival of the English. He had been in Germany and he had seen something
of the mobilization. He knew that the planet had never before borne
anything comparable to the German war machine which was already rolling
forward upon France and Belgium. Would the invaded, even with the help
of England, be able to stop it?
The breakfast finished, he lay down in one of the tents on a blanket,
and, despite the noises of the camp, soon slept. But he was awakened by
Lannes two or three hours later.
"I've found a way for you to send telegrams through Switzerland, and
then to Munich, telling your people where you are and what you are going
to do," he said, "and now I'm going to leave you for a while. I'm going
on another scout in the Arrow, but I go alone. You, I take it, will do
your fighting now on land. But, John Scott, I've been proud to know you
and to have had such a flight with you. I don't suppose that any other
beginner has ever had such a lively start as yours, but you've gone
through it like a veteran. I want to shake your hand."
He pulled off his aviator's glove, and the two hands met in a powerful
clasp. Then his dramatic instinct keenly alive he turned and sprang into
the waiting Arrow. The young officers gave it a long push, and, rising
lightly and gracefully, it soared over the army, far up into the blazing
sunlight. Its strange navigator waved one hand to those below, and then
the Arrow, true to its name, shot away toward the north.
"There goes the bravest man I ever saw," said John. "Give him air to
float in, and I believe he'd try for the sun."
"All those flying men are brave," said a young officer, "but Lannes is
the bravest of them all, as he is also the most skillful. As a scout he
is worth ten thousand men to us."
"I must look for those English of whom he spoke," said John, "I have
trespassed upon your courtesy here long enough. I wish to join them and
serve with you."
"They're not all English by any means. Fully half of them are your own
countrymen, Americans. The English and Americans quarrel much among
themselves, but they unite against any foe. My own name is Creville,
Louis Creville, and I'll take you to this company, The Strangers, as
with pride they call themselves."
Creville led the way, and John followed toward another wing of the
French force. The young American observed the French soldiers closely.
They did not look either so stalwart or so trim as the Germans. Their
long blue coats, and baggy red trousers had a curious effect. The color
scheme seemed to John more fitted to a circus than to an army, but they
were lively, active men, their faces gay and their eyes full of
intelligence. He knew from his history that they had looked just the
same way and had acted just the same way when they followed the
victorious banners of Napoleon into nearly every capital of Europe.
"We're almost at the camp of the Strangers," said Captain Creville.
"None could ever mistake it, because their debate this morning upon
their respective merits is uncommonly spirited. Listen!"
"I tell you, Wharton, you Yankees have no discipline. By Gad, sir, your
lack of it is startling."
"We don't need it, Carstairs, because we were always able to lick you
English without it."
"Lick us, you boasters! Where did you ever lick us?"
"Wherever we were able to find you."
"My histories tell me that you never looked for us much."
"But those histories were written by Englishmen. I'll lay you a good
five-dollar bill against one of your shilling-short pounds that I beat
you into Berlin."
"As a prisoner, yes. I've no doubt of it."
"Gentlemen," said Creville, as he took a step forward, and looked into a
little dip, "I bring you a new comrade."
Within the dip lay at least two hundred youths and young men. Nearly all
were fair, and they were unmistakably Americans and English. The two who
had been carrying on the violent controversy were stretched flat on the
grass almost at the feet of Creville. But they sat up, when they heard
him, and John saw that they were uncommonly handsome and athletic, their
age about his own. They stepped forward at once, and extended to John
the hand of fellowship. Captain Creville made the introductions.
"He wishes to enlist with you," he said.
"He'll be welcome, I know," said the Englishman, Carstairs. "Our
commander, Captain Colton, is not here at this moment, but we expect him
in a half hour. How did you arrive, Mr. Scott?"
"He dropped down," replied Creville for John. "Dropped down. I don't
understand you, Captain?"
Creville pointed straight up into the heavens.
"He came like the bird," he said. "He sailed through the air, seeking
his nest. As soon as he saw us he said: 'Here is the perfect place; here
I can dwell with the kindest and best people in the world; and down he
swooped at once.'"
"I suppose you mean that he's an airman and that he came in a flying
machine," said the American, Wharton. "Carstairs will arrive at that
conclusion, too, if you give him time, but being an Englishman, time he
must have."
"But when I arrive at the conclusion it will be right," said Carstairs.
"It's true that Mr. Scott came by machine," said Captain Creville, who
was now speaking in excellent English. "He arrived with our great young
aviator, Philip Lannes, and he has had many and thrilling adventures, of
which he will tell you later. I suppose you will take your part in these
English and American controversies, Mr. Scott, but your new captain will
have nothing to do with them."
"Is he an Englishman or an American?"
"You can decide that for yourself. He was born in England. His mother
was American and his father English. He was taken to America when he was
three years old, and was educated there, but, after finishing at
Harvard, he spent a year at Oxford. It seemed to all of us that his
appointment as captain of this troop was most happy. The English are
sure that he's English, the American know that he's American, he himself
says nothing, and so all are happy. Ah, here he comes now, ahead of
time!"
Daniel Coulton, a tall fair young man with a fine, open face, entered
the dip, and Captain Creville at once turned John over to him.
"We're glad to have you, Mr. Scott," said Colton, "but the service will
be hard and full of danger."
"I expect it, sir."
"These young men are serving France for love, and nearly all of them are
privates. Carstairs and Wharton are in the ranks and you'll have to take
a place with them."
"I accept gladly, sir."
"The right spirit. Wharton, you and Carstairs get him a uniform and
arms, and he'll stay with you until further orders."
Then Captain Coulton hurried away. Captain Creville bowed and also
withdrew.
"Come on, Scott," said Carstairs. "We've an extra uniform, and it'll
just about fit you. A rifle, cartridges and all your other arms are
ready, too."
John was equipped promptly, and then many introductions followed. It was
a little Anglo-American island in the midst of a French sea, and they
gave a joyous welcome to a new face. John noticed that many of them bore
slight wounds, and he soon learned that several others, hurt badly, lay
in an improvised hospital at the rear.
"The Germans are pressing us hard," said Wharton. "They whipped us
yesterday afternoon, and they're sure to come for us again today.
There's Captain Colton now standing on the earthwork, watching through
his glasses. In my opinion something's doing."
Nearly all the Strangers went forward. From a hillock, John with his two
new friends looked toward the forest, miles in their front. The forest
itself was merely a blind mass of green, but overhead swung aeroplanes
and captive balloons.
"Look up!" said Carstairs.
John saw a half dozen aeroplanes hovering some distance in front of
their own lines.
"I think they're signaling," said Carstairs. "One of those monster guns
must be getting ready to disgorge itself."
"The forty-two centimeter?" said John.
"Yes, and I'm right, too. I saw a flash in the forest, and here comes
the little messenger!"
There was a roar and a crash so tremendous that John was almost shaken
from his feet. An enormous shell burst near the earthworks, sending
forth a perfect cloud of shrapnel and steel fragments. It resembled the
explosion of a volcano, and as his ears recovered their power after the
shock John heard the cries of many wounded.
"I think this force carries only one such gun with it," said Carstairs,
"and it will be some time before they can fire it again. We have nothing
to equal it, but the French seventy-five millimeter is an awful weapon.
The gunners can time them so the shells burst only fifteen or twenty
feet from the ground, and then they rain death. I think it likely that
we have out now a flanking force that will get within range."
"There's cover to the right," said Warton, "if the French batteries
advance at all, it will be that way."
They were ordered to stand to their arms, but it did not keep them from
watching, as at present there was nothing for them to do. A second shot
came presently from the forty-two centimeter, but the shell burst too
far away to do any harm. John and his comrades turned their attention
back to the right, where a line of woods ran.
Ten minutes more of waiting and they saw a succession of flashes among
the trees. The French field guns far in advance of the main force were
at work.
"Well done," said Carstairs. "The French artillery is fine, Scott. I
believe their medium guns can beat any others of the same class in the
world. Look how those woods flame with their fire! It scares me to go up
in the air, but I'd like to be in one of those aeroplanes, where I could
see the effect of the cannonade."
"There goes 'Busy Bertha' again," said Wharton.
"What's 'Busy Bertha'?" asked John.
"Oh, it's merely a nickname we've given to the Krupp monster. The French
started it, I believe, but it's spread to the Strangers. It's aimed at
our field guns this time! There the shell has burst in the forest! I
wish I knew what it had done!"
"Not much, I judge," said Carstairs, "because the French guns are
replying with as much fervor as ever. The woods are fairly blazing with
their fire!"
[Illustration] "A second shot came presently from the forty-two
centimeter."
"And yonder," said John, "are the Uhlans. Look at that mass of steel on
the far edge of the plain!"
An immense force of German cavalry was issuing from the forest directly
in their front, and was forming in a long line. The distance was great,
but the August sunshine was so clear that all objects were magnified and
made more vivid. The three clearly saw the great mass of German horsemen
defiling toward the French right. Captain Colton of the Strangers
reappeared and stood near them, watching through a pair of powerful
glasses. John knew that he was anxious, and, although his experience of
war was only three or four days old, he well knew the reason why.
"I've glasses myself," said Carstairs, who was holding a pair to his
eyes. "Take a look, Scott."
John accepted them eagerly. They were strong, and the German cavalry
seemed to come very near. Then he saw how numerous they were. They must
be thousands and thousands, and the front files, which had wheeled, were
already disappearing in the forest on the French right. In America most
forests would have been impracticable for cavalry, but it was not likely
to be so here, where there was little or no undergrowth.
John turned the glasses back to the point in the woods where the French
field guns were posted. There he saw rapid flashes and the steady
rolling crash continued. Evidently the seventy-five millimeter French
cannon were all that was claimed for them. But he knew that the German
cavalry must now be protected largely by the forest, and his heart beat
heavily with apprehension for the French guns and their gunners.
"There goes 'Busy Bertha' again!" exclaimed Wharton.
John remembered nothing clearly for the next minute or two. There was a
vast rushing sound, a crash of thunder, and, although he was not
touched, he was thrown from his feet. He sprang up, dazed, cleared his
eyes and looked around. The monstrous shell, weighing more than a ton,
had burst almost in the heart of the French army, killing or wounding at
least three hundred men, and spreading awe among the others. Nothing so
capable of destruction and made by man had ever before been seen in the
history of the world. And the shot had come from a point at least ten
miles away, where the giant lay invisible.
The glasses had not been hurt in the fall and he handed them back to
Carstairs. No harm had been done among the Strangers, although he was
not the only one who had been thrown to the ground. But they were bold
hearts and they jested among themselves.
"I hope they won't aim that pop-gun so well again," said Wharton.
"After all, Scott," said Carstairs, "you were perhaps safer with Lannes
a half mile up in the air. The forty-two centimeter couldn't reach you
there."
"Maybe not," said John, "but I'm one of the Strangers now, and I'll take
my chances with them. I'm most alarmed about the Uhlans who have gone
into the woods on our right."
"To cut off our field guns, of course. And look! Here comes the German
army in our front to support their flanking movement!"
The fire in the wood increased in intensity, and John saw a great body
of French troops advancing to the support of their artillery. Evidently
the French leader meant to maintain his fire there and also to protect
his field guns against capture.
"I told you, Wharton," said Carstairs, "that the Germans would give us
no rest, that they would advance at once to a new battle."
"You didn't have to tell it to me. I knew it as well as any Englishman
could possibly know it, perhaps better, but I'm modest, and I didn't
talk about it."
"If you only kept your ignorance as well as your knowledge to yourself,
Wharton, you'd have a greater reputation for wisdom. Look out!"
A shell that failed to explode in the air struck near. Carstairs threw
himself upon Wharton, and, at the imminent risk of his own life, dragged
him down just in time, as the shell burst and threw fragments over their
heads.
"Thanks, Carstairs," said Wharton. "Your first name is Percy, but you
don't act like a Percy."
"Expect the same from you, old fellow, when the time comes."
"I'll do my best."
John was absorbed now in the tremendous panorama of war, carried on with
all the mighty machines of death that man had invented. A heavy German
force appeared on their left also. It was yet distant, but it was nearer
than the great mass in the center. Untrained as he was he knew
nevertheless that the Germans, with their greatly superior numbers, were
seeking to envelop the French. But the defensive guns on the right in
the wood were maintaining a swift and terrible fire. They were pouring
showers of shrapnel not only on the Uhlans, but upon the gray masses of
infantry crossed the wide intervening fields.
The Strangers were now drawn up by one of the earthworks, but it would
be a long time before they went into action. That heaving gray sea of
Germans could not come within range of the rifles for an hour yet.
Meantime the artillery would carry on the battle over a space of miles.
While he waited he could look on and see it all.
More and more guns were coming into action. Batteries were sent off to
the left to meet the second German flanking force there, and soon the
heaviest of the French cannon in the center were able to reach the
advancing enemy directly in their front.
The scene became tremendous and full of awe. There was little smoke, but
along two vast semi-circles, one convex, and the other concave, flashes
ran like continuous lightning, while the whole earth grumbled and
roared. The air seemed surcharged with death, and John suddenly found it
hot in his lungs as he breathed.
Through the roar of the guns he heard all the time the malicious
shrieking of the shrapnel. It was falling among the defenders, killing
and wounding hundreds, and John knew that the storm beat also on the
great gray circle that was ever coming nearer. Now and then a crash,
louder than all the rest, came from the forty-two centimeter, and
whenever the shell struck true it tore everything about it to pieces, no
matter how strong.
The thunder of the guns was so steady and so near one note that the
Strangers could talk almost in an ordinary tone.
"It's our guns on the right that are in the most danger," said John.
"Correct," said Wharton. "The Uhlans are trying to cut them off, because
those guns are doing great damage. Take the glasses again, and you can
see their shells tearing through the German lines."
"I don't know that I want to see."
"Oh, look! This is war, and you'll have to get used to it!"
Then John looked and he saw that the German lines were not unbroken, as
they had seemed to the naked eye. The shrapnel were tearing through
them, making great holes, but the massive German columns never faltered
for an instant. The gaps in their ranks were filled up, and they came on
at an even pace, resolved to capture or destroy the French force. And
they carried with them the memories of Gravelotte, Sedan and Metz. They
would do as well as the men of old von Moltke had done.
John felt a thrill of admiration. The great military monarchy had built
its machine well. It seemed at the moment resistless. It was made of
steel rather than human flesh and blood, and it would roll over
everything. Nothing had yet stopped that mighty concave curve of gray,
although more and more French cannon were coming into action, and from
right to left, and from left to right, they showered it with unceasing
death.
But the German artillery, far more numerous and powerful than the
French, were supporting their infantry. Shells were poured fast upon the
hasty earthworks. Hundreds and hundreds of the defenders fell. The roar
was now so stupendous that John could scarcely hear, and the air, before
golden in the sunshine, turned a livid fiery hue.
All the Strangers were now formed in one of the trenches, and then
wisely knelt low. John heard the shrieking, whining noise incessantly
over his head, and it made his blood run cold. Instinctively he pressed
hard against the side of his trench, but his curiosity was so keen that
from time to time he raised his head above the edge to see how the
battle fared directly in front. The gray Germans were much nearer,
marching with the solid tread that seemed able to carry them across the
world, while their gigantic artillery on the flanks and in the intervals
flamed and roared without ceasing.
John knew that the loss among the French must be great, and he knew,
too, that when the huge machine struck them they would be shattered. He
wondered that the French leader did not order the retreat, but while he
was wondering a trumpet suddenly sounded a shrill clear note audible
amid the roar of the great guns, and he saw Captain Colton beckon to the
Strangers.
John knew they were going into battle, but he felt relief because their
long waiting was over. His senses had become dulled to danger. He felt
the surge and sweep of tremendous conflict, and relief came with action.
As they stood up he obtained a better view of the field. The Germans
were yet nearer now, and, seen through the blazing light of the cannon,
they were magnified and increased. Although yet too distant in the
center, the flanks were near enough to open fire with the rifles, and
their crash in scores of thousands was added to the tremendous roar of
the cannon fire.
Captain Colton beckoned again to the Strangers, and joining a heavy
infantry force they crept out toward the right, and then among the
trees. John divined at once their mission. They were to support and save
the French field batteries which had gone into the wood and which had
done so much damage to the German army.
They could not mistake their destination. The flash and crash came from
a point directly in front of them, and the whole forest was lighted up
by the blaze of the guns. Farther to their right John heard the heavy
tramp of horsemen in thousands. There he knew were the Uhlans, circling
to cut off the French guns.
The wood opened out, leaving wide clear spaces, and then John saw the
countless helmets of the Uhlans, as they charged with a deep-throated
German roar. It seemed that they were to be ridden into the earth, but
he found himself kneeling with the others and firing his rifle as fast
as he could pull trigger into the charging mass.
John felt like a man sending bullet after bullet into some huge wild
beast, seeking to devour. For the moment the Uhlans were blended into
one mass, a single entity. He had a vision of the wild faces of men, of
the huge red eyes of horse, and of their open slavering mouths,
disclosing rows of cruel white teeth. It was those white teeth that he
saw clearest, and often he fired at the horses rather than their riders.
Nearer came the Uhlans. The earth resounded with their tread. The cruel
white teeth of the horses flashed almost in John's face. He began to
have a horrible fear that they could not stop these ruthless horsemen,
but the French relieving force had brought with it light guns, which
were now pushed up, opening almost point blank on the Uhlans.
The hail of steel drove directly in the faces of horses and men, and
they reeled back. Men might stand such a fire, but horses could not.
They bolted from it by hundreds, knocked down and trampled upon one
another, creating a vast turmoil and confusion among the Germans.
John was conscious that he had sprung to his feet, and was advancing
again with his comrades directly upon the Uhlans. They were still
reloading and firing as fast as they could, and the light artillery,
between the spaces, was cutting a perfect harvest of death. As the
Uhlans were driven back out of the open and among the trees their
difficulties increased. It was impossible to fall into any kind of
formation and charge such a formidable infantry defended by guns.
The riflemen pressed closer and closer and poured upon them such a
deadly fire that after many vain efforts to hold their ground the
trumpets sounded the recall, and all those who were able to ride
retreated.
The French set up a tremendous cheer and swept forward to meet their
field guns which were slowly retiring, sending heavy volleys into the
German masses as they withdrew. Yet their escape was a narrow one.
Without the sortie from the fort they would certainly have been cut off
by the Uhlans.
John found himself shouting in triumph with the French. He shared their
feelings now because their danger had been his danger, and he was fast
becoming the same in spirit.
"Just in time!" shouted Wharton in his ear. "See how the Germans come
on, and come without ending!"
The great German mass in the open was now almost abreast of them. Their
numbers seemed endless. Their huge cannon filled the air with
projectiles which poured upon the French earthworks, and, captive
balloons and aeroplanes hanging over them, directed their fire. The
sight, magnificent in some aspects, was terrible nevertheless, and for a
moment or two John was appalled.
"We've got to get back quick as we can," shouted Carstairs, "or they'll
be on us, too!"
"Right! old man!" shouted Wharton, agreeing with him for once.
They were already retiring, and the field artillery was going with them.
But the deadly seventy-five millimeter guns were not idle, although they
were withdrawing. They sent shell after shell, which hung low over the
German ranks, and then burst in a whirlwind of steel fragments and
splinters. Death was showered upon the gray masses, but they never
flinched, coming on steadily, with the deep German cheer, swelling now
and then into thunder.
The battle was so near that the Strangers could no longer hear one
another, although they shouted. Their company luckily had suffered
little, but now the bullets began to search their ranks, and brave young
Americans and brave young Englishmen gave up their lives under an alien
flag.
John was conscious of neither elation nor despair. The excitement was
too great. His heart hammered heavily against its walls, and the red
mist before him deepened until it became a blazing glare. Then the rush
of hoofs came again. The Uhlans had reformed and made a second charge.
The riflemen beat it off, and, still protecting the guns, joined the
main French force.
But it was evident there that the French must retreat again. The
powerful artillery of the Germans had cut their defenses to pieces. The
earth was torn by the great shells as if mining machinery had been at
work, and the ground was covered with dead and wounded. Valor against
numbers and long preparation was unavailing.
"If we don't go we're lost," shouted Carstairs.
"And if we go today we can come back and fight another day!" said
Wharton.
The French leader gathered together his army, beaten for a second time,
and slowly retired across the hills. The French character here showed
itself entirely different from what popular belief had made it. John saw
no signs of panic. The battered brigades closed up and withdrew, turning
a steady and resolute face to the enemy. Their deadly artillery
continually swept the front of the advancing Germans, and at intervals
their riflemen sent back withering volleys.
John's excitement did not abate. Again he loaded and fired his rifle,
until its barrel grew hot in his hand. The tumult was fierce and
deafening beyond all description. He shouted to his comrades and his
comrades shouted to him, but none could hear the sound of a human voice.
The roar of the explosions was mingled without ceasing with the whining
and shrieking of shrapnel and bullets.
Yet the retreating army defeated every attempt to close with it. The
rifles and cannon mowed down the flankers to both right and left, and
their powerful guns drove the pursuing center to a respectful distance.
Toward night they came to a higher range of hills spreading to such a
distance that they could not be flanked, and, turning there, they sat
down, and waited, confident of their position.