CHAPTER XXIX.

  BATTLE OF THE LINES OF WEISSENBURG.

  Towards eight o'clock on the morning of the 6th Nivose, year II(December 26, 1793), under cover of a thick fog, St. Just and Hochebegan their advance. The two leaders walked their horses side by side,close behind a squad of cavalrymen detailed as scouts. A short distanceto the rear of the Representative of the people and theCommander-in-chief followed a group of aides-de-camp and artilleryofficers.

  Gradually, in the teeth of a stiff north wind, the fog began again tolift. The gallop of an approaching horse was heard, and one of Hoche'saides loomed out of the thinning haze, made straight for hiscommander-in-chief, and said, as he reined in his mount:

  "Citizen General, our scouts just encountered a party of Uhlans. Wecharged them and reached the enemy's advance guard near enough to makeout a considerable body of cavalry."

  The north wind continued to blow, clearing away the mists, and soon,from the rising ground where they had taken their station, St. Just,Hoche, and their staff were able to sweep with their eye the field ofthe approaching battle. Before them, from northwest to southeast at theextreme edge of the horizon, stretched the regular outline of the"Lines" or entrenchments of Weissenburg, parallel to the course of theLauter, a rapid river which served as moat to these fortified works. Tothe right, the now leafless fastnesses of the forest of Bienvalt, whichalso bordered on the Lauter over which the remnants of the fog stillhung, reached away till they lost themselves in the distance towardLauterburg, a town situated in one of the bends of the Rhine, now theheadquarters of the army of Conde.

  With his glass Hoche examined the position of the Austrian army, andsaid to St. Just:

  "The Austrian general, as I foresaw, surprised by our march which hastaken from him the offensive, has changed his plan of battle by makinghis infantry fall back half way upon the plateau of Geisberg. We musthaste to profit by the hesitation into which this discreet retreat willhave thrown the enemy." Then, addressing one of the artillery officers,Hoche added: "Citizen, order General Ferino to push out with the cavalryand flying artillery of his division. His cannoniers are to open fireupon the enemy's squadrons, and when they weaken, he is to send in hiscavalry."

  The officer left at a gallop to convey the order to Ferino, whocommanded the advance guard. The republican army was drawn up in threecolumns, the cavalry on the right, the infantry in the center, and theartillery on the left, with the reserves, the supplies and theambulances in second line. Suddenly a distant booming, deep andprolonged, resounded on the left, in the direction of Nothweiller, andHoche exclaimed:

  "The cannon! The cannon! Gonvion St. Cyr has followed my orders! He ispouring out of the valley of the Lauter and attacking Brunswick'sposition. There are the Prussians engaged. They will hardly bring aid tothe Austrians now! If Desaix has carried out his movement as well, andattacked Conde's body at Lauterburg, the Austrian army is thrown on itsown resources. The Lines of Weissenburg are ours, and we shall raise thesiege of Landau!"

  At that moment General Ferino, in response to Hoche's orders, advancedat a rapid trot at the head of his cavalry and artillery. Beside theGeneral rode Lebas, the Representative of the people on mission to thearmies. Recognizing the importance of this first charge for the successof the day, he desired to assist Hoche, and to march in the front rank.

  "On, my brave Ferino," called Hoche to the General as he swept by."First shatter the Austrian cavalry with your cannon, and then--a tasteof your saber for them!"

  "Count on me, General. I'll send the white-cloaks to drink in theLauter, whether they are thirsty or not," replied Ferino; and waving hissword he turned towards his cohorts and gave the cry:

  "Forward, my children, forward! Long live the Republic!"

  "Long live the Republic!" shouted back the cavalrymen, flashing theirswords in the air as they thundered past Hoche. "Our comrades haveretaken Toulon--we shall free Landau!"

  "Soldiers," called Hoche, "show yourselves worthy of your pastvictories. The Republic counts on the Army of the Rhine and Moselle! Tovictory or death!"

  The battle was on. General Ferino's artillery mowed down the Austriancavalry, Wurmser's first line. Profiting by their disorder, gathering uphis squadrons and hurling them with himself at their head upon theenemy, Ferino overthrew the forces which opposed him, and carried hismounted sabers right into the infantry squares of the second line. ThenHoche flung his attacking column upon Wurmser's center, while thatgeneral's left wing fell under the fire of several batteries of flyingartillery. One of these batteries, consisting of six four-pounders, hadtaken position on an eminence where lay a solitary farmhouse. From thishillock it was possible to rake the Austrian's left flank from the rear.A squadron of the Third Hussars and two companies of the SeventhBattalion, Paris Volunteers, were detached to act as guard to thisartillery. The captain of the battery, on reconnoitering his position,found that the farmhouse and its buildings occupied nearly the center ofa mound about three hundred paces in diameter. Toward the enemy the hillpresented a rapid rise of some thirty feet, while on the side of therepublican army it was nearly level with the plain occupied by thereserves. A thicket of trees and live brush extended to the right and alittle to the rear of the battery's position. The inhabitants of theplace had fled with the opening of the engagement, carrying with themtheir cattle and all their more valuable belongings. One by one the ironspit-fires arrived to take their position in the battery, the first toappear being Carmagnole, the sweetheart of quartermaster Duchemin. Thispiece, by the almost grotesque cut of its furniture, presented a curiousexample of the oddity of artillery carriages in those days.

  The team drew up with a half-turn, Duchemin and his eight assistantsleaped to the ground, and confided their horses to the two artillerymencharged with their care. The pin which coupled the piece proper to thecaisson was removed, and there she stood in position on her two wheels,some distance ahead of the caisson, in which the cartridges were kept.The drivers hurried their horses under shelter of the farmhouse, somefifty paces away. Soon the six spit-fires were in position. Thecommanders of the squadron of hussars and the two companies ofvolunteers also took what advantage they could of the lay of the land toprotect their men from the fire which an Austrian battery might at anymoment be expected to open upon the republican guns. One of the ParisVolunteers' companies was masked in the brush of the little wood justmentioned, in position to fire from under cover in case the enemy shouldattempt to seize the battery. The other company entrenched itself behindthe stone wall which enclosed the courtyard of the farm, and behind thebuildings which already acted as cover to the artillery horses.

  By the chances of war there were thus reunited among the defenders ofthe battery Oliver and Victoria, John Lebrenn and Castillon, and finallythe young Parisian recruit Duresnel, who also was a member of CaptainMartin's company.

  "Well, comrade," said Captain Martin to him, "how goes it? Your heart isstill whole? Keep up your courage, all will go well."

  "So far, captain, things are not going badly. But we must wait for theend--or rather for the beginning, for we haven't begun to fight yet."

  "It seems it is going to be warm!" volunteered Castillon. "By my pipe,what a cannonade! That must be comrade Duchemin making his Carmagnolespit! Let me see if I can get a glimpse of him over the wall."

  Stretching himself on tiptoe, Castillon raised himself sufficiently tocast his eye above the wall, upon the group of cannon, now halfenveloped in the smoke of their first volleys. Duchemin, kneeling on theground after conning the hostile battery through his pocket-glass, wastraining his piece, already roughly aimed by a brigadier, while hisassistants on either side, armed with their ramrods, sponges and levers,stood ready for action. One of them held the match, waiting for theorder to light the fuse. The other five pieces, ranged parallel toCarmagnole, were likewise surrounded by their attendants and beingsighted by their under-officers. The captain of artillery and hislieutenants, on horseback, superintended the manoeuvring. In thedistance the Austrian
lines and the advancing columns of the French werelost almost completely in the smoke and smother of the now generalcannonade. Nevertheless, the watchers on the hill soon perceived a largemass of opposing infantry so cut up and thrown into disorder by therelentless and accurate fire of the battery, that the Austrian generalwas moving up four howitzers and four six-pounders, with the intentionof crippling the republican artillery. Seeing with his glass the firsthowitzer advance to the left from the enemy's battery, Duchemin at oncecarefully re-trained his Carmagnole, shook his fist in the howitzer'sdirection, and growled under his heavy moustache, alluding to the shortand stocky build of those pieces:

  "Ah, it is you who would presume to silence my Carmagnole, stump-nose!I'll show you that you were never cast to clip my sweetheart's words!"

  Just then, in response to a sign from the captain, the trumpeter of thebattery sounded the signal to "Fire!"

  "Come, my cadet," cried Duchemin to the soldier with the burning match,"the soup is ready--all we need is to serve it! Light her! light her!Let her go!"

  The cannonier touched off the fuse with his match, and Carmagnole'sdischarge rang out several seconds ahead of the general volley of thebattery. Gazing again through his field-glass to watch the effect of hisshell, Duchemin cried out: "There she is! The stump-nose is knocked offone wheel, and two of her flunkies are keeled over. Long live theRepublic!"

  In fact, Carmagnole's ball had crushed one of the wheels of the howitzerand knocked down two of the Austrian artillerists an instant before thehostile battery had gotten in its first shot. But almost immediately theenemy's guns were crowned with several little clouds of white smoke,lighted up with streaks of flame. A prolonged roar reached theFrenchmen, and Duchemin exclaimed, turning towards the stone wall wherethe volunteer infantrymen were entrenched:

  "Citizens, look out for the shells!"

  Hardly had Duchemin sounded the warning when the rain of iron was uponthem; the balls screamed, the shells rebounded and burst. The commanderof the little republican battery was cut in two by a flying shell; horseand rider went down mangled before the shot. Another shell burst betweentwo cannon, killing one of their crew and wounding two others soseverely that they fell and with difficulty dragged themselves to theambulance sheltered behind the farmhouse.

  "Cannoniers! Load at will! Aim for the howitzers!" cried the firstlieutenant, assuming command. The trumpet repeated the order through itsmetal throat. The artillerymen vied with one another in haste to chargetheir pieces. Then cries of "Fire! Fire!" rang out from the farmhouse,which suddenly became enveloped in thick black smoke. A shell explodingin a hay loft had set the blaze.

  "In one way that little bonfire isn't bad," said Castillon, "for it isdeuced cold. But too much is too much, and now we're going to roast."And catching sight of the volunteer Duresnel, pale, propping himself upwith his gun, his lips working as though he would talk, though no soundproceeded from them, Castillon continued: "Well, neighbor, here we are,'wo'd of honor;' but what the devil do you see back there to make youreyes pop out so?" So saying, Castillon followed Duresnel's fixed andfrightened stare, and what he saw made him pull the young volunteertoward him, with the words: "Come, comrade, do not look that way. Youhaven't got the hang of the thing yet. That is the fortune of war."

  "My heaven," stammered Duresnel, as he followed Castillon's advice. "Myheaven, it is horrible! Poor victims!"

  A ball, rebounding on the inner face of the stone wall, had struck thelines of volunteers sheltered there, killing and maiming all in itspath. The dead and wounded weltered in blood. Captain Martin, struck bythe spent ball near the end of its course, had been knocked down, butonly bruised on the shoulder. Soon recovering from the shock, he lenthis aid to the soldiers of his company, John Lebrenn among them, tohelp or carry the wounded to the surgeons' post in the rear. These atonce gave their care to the cannoniers and to some hussars of the Third,among whom a shell had also wrought its havoc.

  Undaunted by these disasters, the republican artillery continued to workmarvels. At last the opposing commander, fearing lest his right wing beannihilated, sent word to the regiment of the Gerolstein Cuirassiers tostorm the battery. Up to this time masked behind a hill, this regimentof heavy reserve cavalry had taken no part in the conflict. They werepart of the contingent put by the principality of Gerolstein at theservice of the Germanic Confederation, and were commanded by the GrandDuke himself. This prince was the father of Franz of Gerolstein, whom heheld immured in a state dungeon. In spite of his sixty-and-odd years,the old Grand Duke preserved the freshness and buoyancy of youth; to hisnatural bravery he now added the incentive of hatred for the Revolution.The Count of Plouernel, having made good his second escape from Paris,and now for some time married to the daughter of the Prince of Holtzern,was second in command. The horsemen of this troop wore a cuirass andhelmet of steel, over a livery in the Grand Duke's colors--bright bluewith orange facings--with heavy boots, and white wool trousers. Inshort, the regiment was one of the best equipped and finest in theallied army. The rank and file, lusty fellows in the prime of life,warlike, well drilled, well clad, well fed and well paid, pampered up,in short, like a troop of the chosen, were typical 'soldiers ofmonarchy.' Disciplined by their officers with the cane, after the Germanfashion, they were the instrument of their master's will, ready tosaber father, mother, brother or fellow-citizen, or to march upon theenemy, with equal indifference, killing merely because some one said"Kill!" or falling in the onslaught because some one said "Forward!" Onthe right of the regiment rode the Grand Duke, a robust man, tall offrame, and hard and proud of feature. His face was half concealed underthe visor of his helmet, which was surmounted with a rich plume of heronfeathers. The gentlemen and officers of his household rode somewhatapart from him, while he himself held the following conversation withthe Count of Plouernel, who now bore the uniform of a colonel ofcuirassiers:

  "Count, I saw the Prince of Conde yesterday on his way throughWeissenburg to take up quarters at Lauterburg. 'The Republic,' he saidto me, 'is no longer betrayed by its generals. _Our goose is cooked!_'The Prince's observation was sound; I look forward to a series ofreverses to our arms. In case I am killed in to-day's battle, do notforget the promise you have given me. Go to my son Franz, in the prisonwhere he lies; tell him that my last thoughts were curses upon him.Then," the Grand Duke added, with a sinister air, "see that justicetakes its course with him. My highest court has judged and condemned myunworthy son; he is convicted of a revolutionary plot against the safetyof my states, and against my person. He has incurred the penalty ofdeath--the sentence is to be executed with the briefest possible delay.My nephew Otto, whose cousin you married, is to inherit my grand-ducalcrown. All the bequests, minutely set forth in my testament, are to befully carried out."

  "Drive away these dark thoughts, monseigneur," replied the Count. "Youwill reign a long time yet, and decide all these matters for yourself."

  The word to advance was given, and the Gerolstein regiment, the GrandDuke at its head, set out at a round trot. The ground shook under thehoofs of its eight hundred horses; the rattle of its sabers, muskets andbreastplates made a formidable din. Two hundred rods away rose thehillock on whose brow scowled the republican battery that now menacedevery foot of the plain the cuirassiers were advancing over. Unable tooutflank the battery, owing to its being protected to the right by thelittle wood and to the left by the semi-demolished farm buildings, theGrand Duke could see nothing for it but to charge right into the muzzlesof the cannon which he hoped to capture, little thinking that they weresupported by both infantry and cavalry so cunningly disposed that he wasprevented from detecting them.

  "The republican position is too strong, monseigneur, to be attacked infront," said the Count of Plouernel, "and yet it would be difficult totry to turn its flank."

  "I am resolved to take it in front," replied the Grand Duke. "I rely onthe courage of my cuirassiers. Here we are within short range of theircannon, and those fellows do not fire."

  "They await our clos
er approach, that their discharge may be the moredeadly."

  "Then let us close up the distance, and start the action," exclaimed theGrand Duke.

  The trumpets sounded the charge. Formed in a narrow column, to offerless front to the republican fire, the troop trotted rapidly forward.Then, at two hundred paces from the hill, they spread out into twolines, and, at the Grand Duke's command, spurred their steeds to agallop. In this order, and uttering loud huzzahs, they reached the footof the hill. Here their impetuous advance was checked by the steep risethey had to surmount in order to reach the summit and the guns. Theydischarged their muskets at the cannoniers of the battery, whose pieces,pointed straight down the hill, and till this minute dumb, now spoke outwith a fearful volley of shot and shell. The Paris Volunteers, placed assharpshooters in the fringes of the woody thicket, rained upon theirassailants a storm of bullets which mingled with the fire of the othercompany cloaked in the courtyard of the farmhouse. The rain of lead andiron being especially trained on the steeds of the first advancing line,these fell or stumbled, rolled over on their riders, and threw thesecond line into such disorder that in spite of its momentum it wasforced to waver and flee. The Grand Duke ordered a retreat on thegallop, in order to reform his ranks out of range.

  Repeated cries of "Long live the Republic!" greeted the retreat. TheGerman musketry-fire had gone over the heads of the French; only a fewwere wounded. All hastened to reload their pieces. The volunteers threwfresh cartridges into their guns, in order to receive the second chargeof the enemy. The cuirassiers, galled and goaded by the desire toretrieve their first set-back, reformed while describing a wide circuiton the plain. Then, led on by the example of the impetuous Grand Duke,they came on again, not this time in wide front, but in still narrowercolumn. Again they reached the rise of the hill, bending low over theirhorses' manes, and belaboring the animals with boot and spur. Theyreceived the new volley of artillery almost point blank, but stillalmost immediately gained the top of the eminence, the Grand Duke in thelead. They found themselves awaited by the two companies of volunteers,formed in a hollow square about the cannon, whose attendants werefuriously reloading them. Of the three ranks which formed the square,the first was on one knee; the others were erect, their bodies bentforward, guns at position; ready to let fly at the command of CaptainMartin.

  Solemn silence reigned among the volunteers as they saw, some thirtypaces from them, the Grand Duke of Gerolstein gain the summit of theirhillock, flanked on one side by a colossus in casque and cuirass bearingthe regimental standard, and followed by several officers of hismilitary household.

  Castillon, who was in the second line, with John Lebrenn half kneelingbefore him, and the new volunteer Duresnel behind, said to the former,sotto voice:

  "Friend John, let us unite to bowl over that drum-major on horsebackwith the flag. What say you? Let us fire together."

  "I am with you. Take the man--I shall aim for the horse."

  "Citizens, I also shall aim at the giant," said Duresnel, in hisreed-like voice; "if you will permit, I shall be of your party."

  At that moment Captain Martin saw behind the Grand Duke, their bodieshalf over the brow of the hill, the first rank of cuirassiers. Onlythen, the cavalry being exposed, did he give the order: "Citizens!Attention! Pick each his man! Aim! Fire!"

  "Onward, cuirassiers! Saber this canaille!" shouted the Grand Duke,urging his horse to a great leap in order to reach the serried square."Onward! Hurrah! Thrust, my braves, and on!"

  Attackers and defenders disappeared together in the heavy cloud of smokefrom cannon and musket. For long the lurid obscurity of battle hung overthe little hill; when the blue haze cleared away, the scene thatpresented itself to the survivors was one of rejoicing for the Republic,of rout and disaster for its enemies.

  The foremost cuirassiers, overwhelmed by the fire from the hollowsquare, had nearly all either fallen, with their horses, or beentrampled down by the following ranks which succeeded in scaling thehill. Still the Grand Duke of Gerolstein and several of his men had beencarried by the impetuosity of their charge into the interior of thesquare, in spite of the forest of bayonets with which it bristled; butthey came to a stop when their coursers, exhausted by their lastassault, and pierced by the republican bayonets, sank under them.Castillon had been sabered in the shoulder by the old Grand Duke;Duresnel was stunned and bruised but not wounded. Both at once, aftertheir first disorder, beheld the Grand Duke within the square, pinnedunder his riddled horse. The great orange belt which he wore marked himas a military chieftain. Castillon and Duresnel precipitated themselvesupon him and took him prisoner. John Lebrenn, for his part, had aimedaccurately, and sent a ball into the chest of the color-bearer's mount.The giant, proof against musket balls, thanks to the thickness of hishelmet, breastplate and heavy boots, leaped clear of his steed, and, hissaber in one hand, his standard in the other, defended himself againstJohn, who rushed at him with fixed bayonet. The colossus whirled hissword about him and wounded John in the knee; though wounded, the latterrushed on--and captured the colors.

  Simultaneously with this, at a few paces' distance, another episode wasenacting. An under-officer of the Gerolstein Cuirassiers, seeing himselfsurrounded, fell furiously upon quartermaster Duchemin and his men.Duchemin, old wagoner that he was, entrenched himself behind one ofCarmagnole's wheels, which thus served to shield nearly half his bodyfrom the saber and hoof-strokes which his adversary sought to rain uponhim. Thus barricaded, and further defending himself with a gun-swab, heat last succeeded in landing so masterful a blow upon his antagonist'shelmet that the latter tumbled from his saddle half senseless. MeanwhileCarmagnole's other servitors had reloaded her. At a signal the ranksopened, and once more the artillery belched forth its iron hail upon thelast squadron of the Gerolstein regiment, a reserve squad which theCount of Plouernel led again to the charge. Suddenly the remainingcuirassiers, seized with panic, wheeled about and fled full tilt downthe steep incline. Their hurried departure was not due alone to thelively and sustained fire of the republican battery. The squadron of theThird Hussars, drawn up in battle array behind the burning farmbuildings, had so far taken no part in the fray. Its captain had beenkilled and its lieutenant disabled by an exploding shell. But Oliver,although the youngest of the under-officers, already possessed so greata reputation for bravery that the soldiers, by common accord, voted himthe command of the regiment. "Ah, I was sure of it!" said the dashingyoung man, leaning over to Victoria, as they walked their horsestogether alongside the first platoon; "I felt that I should either bekilled to-day or win my epaulets. I shall be named an officer on thefield of battle."

  The French squadron, now put to a gallop, fell upon the rear ranks ofthe Gerolstein Cuirassiers just as their head was being thrown intodisorder and repulsed by the joint fire of the battery and the volunteerinfantrymen. Oliver charged the German horsemen furiously. The broil wasdesperate. The Count of Plouernel, who strove in vain to rally thefleers, suddenly found himself beset by a young hussar whose cap hadfallen off in the tumult of battle.

  Apparently careless of self the young cavalier rushed straight at thetraitor Count--slashed at his face--one eye he would never see out ofagain. Infuriated by the wound, the Count made a lunge and drove hissaber into his adversary's breast. Then Neroweg urged his horse towardsthe left wing of the Austrian army, and escaped the pursuit of therepublican hussars.

  The young horseman was Victoria.