The Young Franc-Tireurs, and their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War ... With illustrations by R. T. Landells

Preface

TO THE PRESENT EDITION. My dear Lads, — The present story was written and published a few months only after the termination of the Franco-German war. At that time the plan which I have since carried out in The Young Buglers, Cornet of Horse, In Times of 'Peril, and in other volumes, of giving under the guise of historical tales full and accurate accounts of all the leading events of great wars, had not occurred to me. My object was only to represent one phase of the struggle between France and Germany, the action of the bodies of volunteer troops known as Franc-Tireurs. The story is laid in France, and is therefore written from tbe French point of view. The names, places, and dates have been changed, but circumstances and facts are true. There were a good many English among the Franc-Tireurs, and boys of from fifteen to sixteen were by no means uncommon in their ranks.

Having been abroad during the whole of the war, I saw a good deal of these irregulars, and had several intimate friends amongst them. Upon the whole, these corps did much less service to the cause of France than might have been reasonably expected. They were too often badly led, and were sometimes absolutely worse than useless. But there were brilliant exceptions, and very many of those daring actions were performed, which, while requiring heroism and courage of the highest kind," are unknown to the world in general, and find no place in history. Many of the occurrences in this tale are related almost in the words in which they were described to me by those who took part in them, and nearly every fact and circumstance actually occurred according to my own knowledge. Without aspiring to the rank of a history, however slight, the story will give you a fair idea of what the life of the Franc-Tireurs was, and of what some of them actually went through, suffered, and performed. — Yours sincerely, THE AUTHOR. a CONTENTS.

CHAP. PAOI I. THE OUTBREAK OF WAR, 7 II. TERRIBLE NEWS, 13 III. DEATH TO THE SPY ! ...".... 20 IV. STARTING FOR THE VOSGES, 30 V. THE FIRST ENGAGEMENT, 36 VI. THE TUNNEL OF SAVERNE, 41 VII. A BAFFLED PROJECT 47 VIII. THE TRAITOR, 53 IX. A DESPERATE FIGHT, 60 X. THE BRIDGE OF THE VEZOUZE, 68 XI. A FIGHT IN THE VOSGES, 75 XII. THE SURPRISE, 84 XIII. TEE ESCAPE, 92 XIV. A PERILOUS EXPEDITION, 99 XV. THE EXPEDITION, 109 XVI. A DESPERATE ATTEMPT, 116 XVII. A BALLOON VOYAGE, 125 XVIII. A DAY OF VICTORY, 135 XIX. DOWN AT LAST, . ' 142 XX. CROSSING THE LINES, 149 XXI. HOME, • . . . •

Chapter I. The Outbreak Of War

The usually quiet old town of Dijon was in a state of excitement. There were groups of people in the streets, especially round the corners where the official pla cards were posted up. Both at the Pre fecture and the Mairie there were streams of callers all day. Every functionary wore an air of importance and mystery, and mounted orderlies galloped here and there at headlong speed. The gensdarmes had twisted their moustaches to the French peasant woman is a thrifty body, and has a shrewd eye to sous, so the chaffering and haggling which almost invariably precede each purchase went on as briskly as usual, but between times all thoughts aud all tongues ran upon the great event of the day. It was certain, quite certain now, that there was to be war with Prussia. The newspapers had said so for some days, but then, bah I who believes a newspaper ?

M. le Prefect had published the news to-day, and every one knows that M. le Prefect is not a man to say a thing unless it were true. Most likely the Emperor himself had ■written to him. Oh, there could be no doubt about it now ! x even finer points than usual, and walked about with the air of menwho knew all about the matter, and had gone through more serious affairs than this was likely to be. In the market-place the excitement and the buzz of conversation were at their highest. It was market day, and the whole area of the square was full. Never, in the memory of the oldest in habitant, had such a market been seen in Dijon. ls was singular to hear, amidst all the talk, that the speculation and argument turned but little upon the chances of the war itself, it being tacitly assumed to be a matter of course that the Germans would be defeated with ease by the French ; the great subject of specula tion was upon the points which directly affected the speakers.

Would the Mobiles be called out, and forced to march? Would soldiers who had served their time be recalled to the service, even if they were married? and would next year's conscripts be called out at once ? These were the questions which every For the ten days preceding, France had been on the tiptoe of expectation, and every peasant's wife and daughter, for miles round the town, had come with their baskets of eggs, fowls, or fruits, to attend the market and to hear the news. So crowded was it that it was really difficult to move about. People were not, however, unmindful of bargains, foias English boys, and they have been for two years at a school in England. Then example has had some effect: their cousins, Louis and Philippe Duburg, are almost as fond of cricket and other games, and of taking long rambles for miles round, as they are themselves ; other boys have also taken to these amusements, and consequently you would see more square figures, move healthy faces, at the Lyc6e at Dijon than at most other French schools.

The boys who joined in these games formed a set in themselves apart from the rest. They were called either the English set, or contemptuously, ' the savages ; ' but this latter name was not often applied to them before their faces, for the young Barclays had learnt to box in England, and their cousins as well as a few of the others had practised with the gloves with them. Consequently, al though ' the savages ' might be wondered and sneered at behind their backs, the offensive name was never applied in their hearing. At the present moment Ralph Barclay was the centre of a knot of lads of his own age. ' And so you don't think that we shall get to Berlin, Ralph Barclay ; you think that these Prussian louts are going to beat the French army ? Look now, it is a little strong to say that in a French town.' ' But I don't say that at all,' Ralph Barclay said. ' You are talking as if it was a certainty that we were going to march over the Prussians ; I simply say, don't be too positive.

There can be no • doubt about the courage of the French army, but pluck alone won't do ; the question is, are our generals and our organization as good as those of the Prussians, and can we put as many, or anything like as many men into the field? I am at least half French, and hope with all my heart that we shall thrash these Germans ; but we know that they are good soldiers, and it is safer not to begin to brag till the work is over.' one asked, but no one could answer. In another day or two it was probable that the orders respecting these matters would arrive, and in the meantime the merry Burgundian girls endeavoured to hide their own uneasiness by laughingly pre dicting an early summons to arms to tlie young men of their acquaintance. At the Lycee or great school the boys are just coming out.

They are too excited to attend to lessons, and have been released hours before their usual time. They troop out from the great doors, talking and gesticulating. Their excitement, however, takes a different form to that which English boys would manifest under the same circumstances. There was no shouting, no pushing, no practical jokes. The French boy does not play ; at least lie does not play roughly. When young he does indeed sometimes play at buchon, a game some thing similar to the game of buttons as played by English street-boys ; he may occasionally play at marbles ; but after twelve years of age he puts aside games as beneath him. Prisoners' base, football, and cricket are alike unknown to him, and he considers any exertion which would disarrange his hair or his shirt collar as barbarous and absurd.

His amusements are walking in the public promenade, talking politics with the gravity of a man of sixty, and discussing the local news and gossip. This is the general type of French schoolboy. Of course there are many exceptions, and in the Lycee of Dijon these were more numerous than usual. This was due to a great extent to the influence of the two boys who are coming out of the school at the present moment. Ralph and Percy Barclay are, as one can see at first sight, English ; that is to say, their father is English, and they have taken after him, and not after their French mother. They are French born, for they first saw the light at the pretty cottage where they still live, about two miles out of the town ; but their father, Captain Barclay, has brought them up THE OUTBREAK OF WAR. 9 There was silence for a minute or two after Ralph ceased speaking.

The fact was, the thought that perhaps France might be defeated had never once before presented itself to them as possible. They were half disposed to be angry with the English boy for stating it, but it was, in the first place, evident, now that they thought of it, that it was just possible ; and, in the second place, a quarrel with Ralph Barclay was a thing which all his schoolfellows avoided. classic. It was half Swiss, half Gothic, and altogether French. It had numerous little gables, containing the funniest shaped little rooms. It had a high roof with projecting eaves, and round three sides ran a wide veranda, with a trellis work, over which vines were closely trained, subduing the glare of the summer sun, casting a cool green shade over the sitting-rooms, and affording a pretty and delightfully cool retreat, where Mrs. Baiclay generally sat with her work and taught Melanie, moving round the house with the sun, so as to be always in the shade.

Ralph Barclay was nearly sixteen, his brother a year younger. Their father, Captain Barclay, had lost a leg in one of the innumerable wars in India, two or three years before the outbreak of the Crimean war. He returned to England, and was recommended by his doctors to spend the winter in the south of France. This he did, and shortly after his arrival at Pau he had fallen in love with Melanie Duburg, daughter of a landed proprietor near Dijon, and who was stopping there with a relative. A month later he called upon her father at Dijon, and in the spring they were married. Captain Barclay's half-pay, a small private in come, and the little fortune which his wife brought him, were ample to enable him to hve comfortably in France, and there accordingly he had settled down. The drawing and dining rooms both opened into this veranda.

The road came up to the back of the house, and upon the other three sides was a garden, which was a compromise between the English and French styles. It had a smooth, well-mown lawn, with a few patches of bright flowers which were quite English, and mixed up among them and bej'ond them were clumps of the graceful foliaged plants and shrubs in which the French delight. Beyond was a vineyard, with its low rows of vines, while over these the view stretched away to the towers of Dijon. In the veranda the boys upon their return found Captain Barclay reading the papers and smoking. . He looked up as they entered. . His family consisted of Ralph, Percy, and a daughter, called, after her mother, Melanie, and who was two years younger than Percy. It had always been Captain Barclay's intention to return to England when the time came for the boys to enter into some business or profession, and he had kept up his English connection by several visits there of some months' dura tion, with his whole family.

The boys too had been for two years at school in England, as well as for two years in Germany, and they spoke the three languages with equal fluency. ' You are back early, boys.' ' Yes, papa ; there was so much talking going on that the professor gave it up as hopeless. You have heard the news, of course ? ' ' Yes, boys, and am very sorry to hear it.' Captain Barclay spoke so gravely that Ralph asked anxiously, ' Don't you think we shall thrash them, papa ? ' ' I consider it very doubtful, Ralph,' his father said. ' Prussia has already gained an immense moral victory. She has chosen her own time for war, and has at the same time obliged France to take the initiative, and so to appear to be the aggressor, and therefore to lose A prettier abode than that of Captain Barclay would be difficult to find.

It was in no particular style of architecture, and would have horrified a lover of the spend four times as much time in the cafes and billiard-rooms as they do in the drill -ground. Altogether, in my opinion, the French army h;is greatly gone off in all points except in courage, which, being a matter of nationality, is probably as high as ever. It i.> a bad look-out, boys — a very bad look-out. There, don't talk about it any more. I don't want to make your mother un happy. Remember not to express, either as my or your own opinion, anything I have said, in the town. It would only render you obnoxious, and might even cause serious mischief. If things go wrong, French mobs are liable to wreak their bad temper on the first comer.' the moral support of Europe. She has forced this quarrel upon France, and yet nine-tenths of Europe look upon France as the inciter of the war.

History will show the truth, but it will then be too late. As it i.s, France enters upon the war with the weight of public opinion dead against her, and, what is worse, she enters upon it altogether unprepared, whereas Prussia has been getting ready for years.' ' But the French always have shown themselves to be better soldiers than the Prussians, papa.' ' So they have, Percy ; and equally .well led, disciplined, arid organized, I believe that in anything like equal forces they would do so again. The question is, have we generals to equal those who led the Prussians to victory against Austria? is our discipline equal, or anything like equal, to that of the Prussians ? is our organization as good as theirs? and, lastly, have we anything like their numbers? I don't like the look of it, boys, at all.

We ought, according to published accounts, to be able to put a larger army than theirs in the field just at first, and if we were but prepared, should certainly be able to carry all before us for a while. I question very much if we are so pre pared. Supposing it to be so, however, the success, would, I fear, be but temporary, for the German reserves are greatly superior to ours. Discipline, too, has gone off sadly since I first knew the French army. Radical opinions may be very wise and very excellent for a nation, for aught I know, but it is certain that they are fatal to the discipline of an army. My own opinion, as you know, is that they are equally fatal for a country, but that is a matter of opinion only ; but of the fact that a good Radical makes an extremely bad soldier I am quite clear, aud the spread of Radical opinions among the French army has been very great.

Then, too, the officers have been much tg blame. They think of pleasure far moi': than duty ; they ' Percy,' Mrs. Barclay said, coining into the room, ' please to run down to the end of the garden and cut some lettuces for salad. Marie is so upset that she can do nothing.' 'What is the matter with her, mamma?' both the boys asked at once. * Victor Halve" — you knew him — the son of the blacksmith Harv£, who had served his time in the army, and came back two months ago to join his father in his forge, and to marry our Marie has left to join his regiment. He was here an hour since to say good-bye. By this time he will have started. It is not wonderful that she weeps ; she may never see him again. I have told her that she must be brave ; a French woman should not grudge those she loves most to fight for France.' 'Ah, Melanie,' Captain Barclay sai<l, smiling, ' these little patriotic outbursts are delightful when one does not hv' to practise them at one's own expense.

"It is sweet and right to die for one's country," said the old Roman, and every one agrees with him, but, at the same time, every individual man has a strong objection to put himself in the way of this sweet and proper death. Although, as you say, no Frenchwoman should grudge those she loves to her country, I fancy if a levee en masse took place t< -morrow, and the boys as well as the cripples had THE OUTBREAK OF WAR. 11 to go, so that Ralph, Percy, and I were all obliged to inarch, you would feel that you did grudge us to the country most amazingly.' twelve. This is a regular meal, with soup, meat, and wine. In England it would be called an early lunch. At six o'clock the Frenchman dines, and evn the working man calls this meal, which an English labourer would call supper, his dinner. The Barclays' meals, there fore, differed more in name than in reality from those of their neighbours.

Mrs. Barclay turned a. little pale at the suggestion. 'Ah, I can't suppose that, Richard! You are English, and they cannot touch you or. the boys, even if you could march and if they were old enough.' Louis and Philippe Duburg came in at five o'clock, but brought a message that their sisters would come in with their father and mother later. Melanie was neither surprised nor disappointed at the non-arrival of her cousins. She greatly preferred being with the boys and always felt uncomfortable with Julie and Justine, who, .although little older than herself, were already as prim, de corous, and properly-behaved, as if they had been women of thirty years old. Captain Barclay smiled. 'That is no answer, Melanie; you are shirking the question. I said if they were to make us go.' ' Ah, yes 1 I am afraid I should grudge you, Richard, and the boys, except the enemy were to invade France, and then every one, even we women, would fight ; but of that there is no chance ; it is we who will invade.' Captain Barclay made no reply.

After tea was over, the four boys re turned to their work of gathering plums, while Melanie, or Milly, as hor father called her, to distinguish her from her mother, picked up the plums that fell, handed up fresh baskets and received the full ones, and laughed and chattered with her brothers and cousins. While so engaged, M. and Madame Duburg arrived with their daughters Julie and Justine. ' The plums want gathering, papa,' Percy said, returning from cutting the lettuces. ' It was arranged that our cousins should come over when they were ripe, and have a regular picking. They .have no plums, and Madame Duburg wants them for preserving. May we go over after dinner, and ask tbem to come in at three o'clock and spend the evening?' ' Certainly,' Captain Barclay said ; ' and you can give your mamma's com pliments, and ask if your uncle and Madame Duburg will come in after they have dined.

The young ones will make their dinner at our six o'clock tea.' M. Duburg, Mrs. Barclay's brother, was proprietor of a considerable estate planted almost entirely with vines. His income was a large one, for the soil was favourable, and he carried on the culture with such care and attention that the wines fetched a higher price than any in the district. He was a clear-headed, sensible man, with a keen eye to a bargain. He was fond of his sister and her English husband, and had offered no opposition to his boys entering into the games and amusements of their cousins, although his wife was constantly urging him to do so. It was to Madame Duburg a terrible thing that her boys, instead of being ahvays tidy and orderly, and ready when at home to accompany her for a walk, should come home flashed, In France early dinner is a thing scarcely kuown, even among the pea santry ; that is to say, their meals are taken at somewhat the same time as ours are, but are called by different .names.

The Frenchman never eats what we call breakfast ; that is, he never makes a really heavy meal the first thing in the morning. He takes, however, coffee and milk and bread and butter when he gets up. He does not call this breakfast. He speaks of it as his morning coffee, and takes his breakfast at eleven or half-past eleven, or even at months her senior ; she is as straight as an arrow. Her health is admirable ; she has never had a day's illness. hot, and untidy, with perhaps a swelled cheek or a black eye, from the effects of a blow from a cricket ball or a boxing glove. ' But she cannot walk ; she absolutely cannot walk ! ' Madame Duburg said, lifting up her hands in horror. Upon their arrival at Captain Barclay's, the two gentlemen strolled out to smoke a cigar together, and to discuss the pro spects of the war and its effects upon prices. ' She walked upwards of twelve miles with her father yesterday,' Mrs. Barclay said, pretending to misunderstand her sister-in-law's meaning.

Mr. Barclay had asked Julie and Justine if they would like to go down to the orchard, but Madame Duburg had so hurriedly answered in their name in a negative, saying that they would stroll round the garden until Melanie returned, that Mrs. Barclay had no resource but to ask them, when they passed near the orchard, to call Mill}', in her name, to join them in the garden. 'I did not mean that,' Madame Duburg said impatiently, ' but she walks like a peasant girl. My faith, it is shocking to say, but she walks like a boy. I should be desolated to see my daughter step out in that way. Then look at her manners. My word, she has no manneis at all. The other day, when I was here, and M. de Riviere with his sons called, she was awkward and shy ; yes, indeed, she was positively awkward and shy. It is dread ful for me to have to say so, sister-in law, but it is true.

No manners, no ease ! Julie, and even Justine, can re ceive visitors even as I could do myself.1 ' My dear Melanie,' Madame Duburg began, when her daughters had walked away in a quiet, prim manner, hand in hand, ' I was really quite shocked as we came along. There was Melanie laughing and calling out as loudly as the boys themselves, handing up baskets and lift ing others down, with her hair all in confusion, and looking — excuse my saying so — more like a peasant girl than a young lady.' ' Her manners are not formed yet, sister-in-law,' Mrs. Barclay said quietly, ' nor do I care that they should be. She is a young girl at present, and I do not wish to see her a woman before her time. Iu three years it will be time enough for her to mend her manners.' Mrs. Barclay smiled quietly. ' Milly is enjoying herself, no doubt, sister-in-law, and I do not see that her laughing or calling out or handing baskets will do her any serious harm.

As for her hair, five minutes' brushing will set that right.' ' But in three years, sister-in-law, you will be looking for a husband for her.' ' I shall be doing nothing of the sort,' Mrs. Barclay said steadily. * In that, as in many other matters, I greatly prefer the English ways. As you know, we give up our house in two years, and go to England to reside. We have economized greatly during the seventeen years since our marriage. We can afford to live in England now. At sixteen, therefore, Milly will have good masters, and for two years her education will be carried on, and her walk and manner will no doubt improve. In England fathers and mothers do not arrange the marriage of their children, and Milly will have to do as other girls do, that is, wait until some one falls in love with ' But, my dear sister-in-law,' Madame Duburg said earnestly, ' do you recall to yourself that Milly is nearly fourteen years old, that she will soon be becoming a woman, that in another three years you will be searching for a husband for her?

My faith, it is terrible, and she has yet no figure, no manner ; ' and Madame Duburg looked with an air of gratified pride at the stiff figures of her own two girls. ' Her figure is not a bad one, sister-in law,' Mrs. Barclay said composedly ; • she is taller than Julie, who is six her and she falls in love with him. Then, if he is a proper person, and has enough to keep her, they will be married.' Milly ; it is so very commonplace. Poor child, she looks as if she had been work ing at the vintage.' Madame Duburg was too much shocked at the expression of these sentiments to answer at once. She only sighed, shook her head, and looked upwards. ' That is right, madame ; stand up for your own ; ' and her husband, who was accustomed to his wife's speeches, laughed. ' But, for all that, commonplace or not commonplace, I should like to see some of Milly's bright, healthy colour in my girls' cheeks, and I should like to see them walk as if they had forgotten for a moment their tight, boots and high heels.' 1 It is strange,' she said at last, ' to hear you, sister-in-law, a Frenchwoman, speak so hghtly of marriage.

As if a young girl could know as well as her parents who is a fit and proper person for her to marry ; besides, the idea of a young girl falling in love before she marries is shocking, quite shocking 1 ' His wife was about to make an angry reply, when the arrival of the four boys, bearing in triumph the last basket of plums, changed the conversation; and shortly afterwards Madame Duburg, re marking that the evening was damp, and that she did not like Julie and Justine to be out in it any later, the Duburgs took their leave. ' My dear sister-in-law,' Mrs. Barclay said, ' we have talked this matter over before, and I have always stated my opinion frankly. I have been a good deal in England, and have seen, there fore, and know the result of English marriages. I know also what French marriages are, and no one who does know the state of things in the two countries can hesitate for a moment in declaring that married life in England is infinitely happier, in every respect, than it is in France.

The idea of telling your daughter that she is to marry a man whom she has never seen, as we do in France, is, to my mind, simply mon strous. Fortunately, I myself married for love, and I have been happy ever since. I intend Milly, when the time comes, to do the same thing.'

Chapter II. Terrible News

The ten days succeeding the declaration of war were days of excitement and anticipation. The troops quartered at Dijon moved forward at once, and scarcely an hour passed but long trains, filled with soldiers from Lyons and the south, were on their way up towards Metz. The people of Dijon spent half their time in and around the station. The platform was kept clear, but bands of ladies relieved each other every few hours, and handed soup, bread, fruit, and wine to the soldiers as they passed through. Each crowded train was greeted as it approached the station with cheers and waving of handkerchiefs, to which the troops as heartily responded. Most of the trains were decorated with boughs, and prese»ted a gay appearance, Before Madame Duburg had time to answer, the gentlemen joined them, and the conversation turned upon the war.

In a short time the three girls came up. ' What a rosy little thing you are, Milly I ' her uncle said ; ' where do you get your plump cheeks and your bright colour? I wish you could give the recipe to Julie and Justine. Why, if you were to blow very hard, I do think you would blow them both down.' ' I am really surprised at you, Monsieur Duburg,' his wife said angrily. ' I am sure I do not wish Julie and Justine to have as much colour as their cousin. I consider it quite a misfortune for poor had a considerably larger standin. than the Prussians, and had the adv. that the main body of our troops were very much nearer to the frontier than those of ihe Prussians. If things hand beeu ready, we ought to have marched two hundred thousand men into Germany in three or four days, at latest, after the declaration of war.