• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Half Title
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Part I, 1792-3: From Bouxweiller...
 Part II, 1812-13: From Darmstadt...
 Part III, 1832-3: From Darmstadt...
 Part IV: The Last Journey
 Advertising
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: Two campaigns : a tale of old Alsace
Title: Two campaigns
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00028388/00001
 Material Information
Title: Two campaigns a tale of old Alsace
Physical Description: 252, 4 p., 5 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Engelback, Alfred H
Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge (Great Britain) ( Publisher )
Pott, Young, and Company ( Publisher )
Wyman & Sons ( Printer )
Publisher: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge
Pott, Young, & Co.
Place of Publication: London
New York
Manufacturer: Wyman and Sons
Publication Date: [1876?]
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Family -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Uncles -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Juvenile fiction -- Alsace (France)   ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1876   ( local )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1876   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1876
Genre: Family stories   ( local )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: A.H. Engelback.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
General Note: Added title page and frontispiece printed in colors.
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00028388
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002225814
notis - ALG6094
oclc - 61250026

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Half Title
        Page i
        Page 1
    Front Matter
        Page 2
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Part I, 1792-3: From Bouxweiller to Darmstadt
        Page 5
        Page 6
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        Plate
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    Part II, 1812-13: From Darmstadt to Moscow and Back
        Page 150
        Page 151
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        Plate
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    Part III, 1832-3: From Darmstadt to Bouxweiller
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        Plate
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    Part IV: The Last Journey
        Page 246
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    Advertising
        Page 253
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    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
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TWO CAMPAIGNS:

A TALE OF OL) ALSACE.







































LONDON:
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TWO CAMPAIGNS:




A TALE OF OLD ALSACE.





BY

A. H. ENGELBACH,
AUTHOR OF "LIONEL'S REVENGE," ETC., ETC.




PtUBLTSHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE
COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION, APPOINTED BY
THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.




LONDON:
acicto far 13ramatinsg (Crititan nrtoTe1tfg.
Sold at the Depositories:
77, Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields;
4, Royal Exchange; 43, Piccadilly;
And by all Booksellers.
NEW YORK: POTT, YOUNG, & CO.
ri> 4










TWO CAMPAIGNS:





PART I. 1792-3.
FROM BOUXWEILLER TO DARMSTADT.
HAT! Leave Bouxweiller again to-night
without seeing Louis? My dear young
friend, we cannot hear of such a thing.
You must stay,-he is sure to come back
by the day after to-morrow, and he would be very
vexed indeed to find that you had been here and had
not stayed for his return. Now it is of no use for you
to say that you are in any hurry: you told us that
you meant to give at least a fortnight to the old
castles of Alsace, so I dare say you only fancy that
you must take your leave because your friend Louis
happens to be away from home, just as if any one
of your name were not dear to us all for the sake of
your father's kindness to me of old. Why, though
not one of us, except Louis, ever saw you until
to-day, I assure you that we constantly talk about
you, as if we had known you all our lives. Let me
tell you that the ladies will take it as a very bad






6 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

compliment if you run away from us in this manner;
they were quite sorry that they were obliged to
leave us alone, even for a couple of hours; but they
had promised to drive over to Pfalzbourg to see a
Friend who is going away to-morrow. Besides, you
told me you were anxious to hear something more
about the strange events which brought us all here,
after so many troubles and trials, about which you
had often heard your father speak. Come now,
that is a capital idea We will fill up the time, while
the ladies are away, with a story which can hardly
be surpassed in strangeness, I fancy, by any tale
of fiction. Here is a delightful seat in an arbour all
overgrown with vines. Netta shall bring us a bottle
of Niersteiner, and we will see what I can do.
Stay Now I think of it! I will just hobble indoors
and fetch a small packet of old letters and papers,
and a diary that I used to keep, which will help me
out when I am at fault. I must depend on your
indulgence, my good young friend, if I weary you
a little at times: old men, they say, are wont to be
garrulous, and I suppose old Max Roggenfeld is no
exception to the general rule.
So,-here we are, comfortably settled; and I will
begin at the beginning, or you would perhaps not
understand what follows.
Here, in this little town of Bouxweiller, my father
was born, and so was I. Let me see! this is the
14th of September, 1853. How very strange! It
is just sixty years to-day since the battle of Pir-





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 7
masens, which I dare say you have heard of, as you
passed by the place yesterday on your way hither.
I was in that campaign, as your father has very
likely told you. I was a corporal in a Hesse-
Darmstadt regiment attached to the Austrian army



















PFALZBOURG.

under Wurmser, wnich, with the Prussians under
the Duke of Brunswick, forced the famous lines of
Wissembourg, in October, '93, and entered France.
You must understand that although Alsace was
part of France, and my father and I were born here
at Bouxweiller, and were therefore natives of that
province, we were nevertheless German subjects-





8 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

not Frenchmen. Alsace formed part of Germany
until the middle of the seventeenth century, when
the victorious arms of Louis XIV. made it part of
France. By the Treaty of Westphalia, however,
certain small portions of the province still continued
to be fiefs of the German empire, the territories
which they comprised specially belonging to certain
German princes by marriage and succession. Thus
Hanau-Lichtenberg, about twenty square miles in
extent, was part of the dominions of the Landgrave
of Hesse,-just as Miihlhausen, also in Alsace, was
a free Imperial city not subject to France; and
Montbeliard, in the department of Doubs, was an
entirely independent principality. In like manner,
the town and environs of Pirmasens (of which I
shall have more to say presently) belonged to Hesse-
Darmstadt, although situated on the left bank of
the Rhine, and lying apart, like a little island, sur-
rounded by foreign territory. These circumstances
gave rise to some serious complications at the outset
of the French Revolution; indeed, the enforcement
against the subjects of Germany in Alsace of the
severe laws against emigrants, passed by the
NationalAssembly in 1790, formed one of the grounds
of the declaration of war against republican France
by the European powers in 1792. You can
easily understand what troubles were likely to fall
on German families in Alsace in such times, and
peculiar circumstances caused them to light on
those dear to me with terrible violence, whilst,





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 9

strange to say, they have resulted in old Max Rog-
genfeld's coming back to end his days in peace in
the home of his childhood; for such, my dear young
friend, is yonder grand old mansion; such, the
charming garden and the pleasant fields that you
see around you.
My father, Moritz Roggenfeld, was a very wealthy
man, owning (besides this house and the large farm
attached to it) considerable property in the town.
He was of an active and energetic character, and
busied himself much with local affairs connected
with his native place, of the town council of
which he was a leading member. He was rather
fond of scheming, and entered eagerly into all the
political questions of the day. I used to think,
indeed, as I well remember, that he was rather
inclined to favour the republican principles then so
rife in France; and he might perhaps have openly
joined that party, but that he was, in truth, a kind-
hearted man, and, foreseeing with much shrewdness
the terrible lengths to which the revolutionary
party might be led, he shrank from such a step, and
contented himself with appearing to favour either
party by turns, as either seemed likely to have the
upper hand. In this way he managed most dexter-
ously through all the trying events of the first two
or three years of the revolution to keep on a good
footing with the republican authorities round about
him; nay, he played his part so well that he ulti-
mately induced them to put him in possession of






10 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

the estates of more than one noble family which had
fled from France at the outset of the Revolution; but
this did not happen until somewhat later, and we
shall come to it all in due time. One thing my
father always maintained most vehemently, namely,
the right of every man to consider himself as good
as his neighbour, and I know that it was one of his
early projects that I should marry a young baroness
whose property adjoined ours, so that the estates
might become united. Now, it so happened that,
from my earliest childhood, I always had a more
than ordinary feeling of respect and reverence for
persons of high station. I believe the feeling must
have been inherited from my mother; at all events,
she fostered and encouraged it, both by example
and precept; so that as for my marrying a real
baroness, I hardly know whether I felt more inclined
to be frightened, or to smile at the absurdity of it,
when my father mentioned the notion to me on my
returning home from my first year at the University
of Giessen. Not that there was really anything so
very absurd in it: my father's family was old and
highly respectable, although we did not write the
"von" of nobilitybefore our name. I was a tall,hand-
some young fellow in those days, and likely to
inherit a large fortune from my father; but the idea
of marrying a baroness was something altogether
foreign to my nature. It was a feeling that I
could not get over then, and never have got over
all my life. As things turned out, however, it





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 11

mattered little whether I agreed with my father or
differed from him on such a point, for we were on
the eve of events that were destined to sweep away
all human plans and projects.
There was another reason why I could not well
have done what my father wished. Sixty years
have passed away since those days, yet even now
I can hardly tell you without a strange feeling of
emotion that there was some one else about whom
I cared more than I chose to tell my father just
then. On my way from Giessen I had stopped at
Pirmasens to pay a visit to my father's old friend
Martin Steinling, for whose daughter I entertained
a strong affection.
This was the turning-point of my life. It was
in the autumn of 1792, just when the massacres of
the priests and nobles in the Bicetre, the Abbaye,
and other prisons in Paris, had filled all Europe
with horror, and the first great victory of the
republican arms at Valmy, which immediately
followed those terrible atrocities, had proclaimed
plainly enough that the Revolution had at its com-
mand not merely a horde of ruffians, the scum of a
city population, but forces of a more legitimate
kind, that might one day influence the destinies of
the world.
I was then just twenty-one, and though rather
of a calm than of a demonstrative temperament, I
remember that I felt deeply roused by the accounts
which each successive day brought to us of the





12 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

doings of the revolutionary tribunals in Paris.
These feelings were further stimulated by the im-
passioned language of Marie Steinling, whom I
had always liked, and who, during the visit of
which I am now telling you, had awakened in my
heart a feeling of a far deeper kind. Yes, though
I have numbered more than fourscore years, I
cannot speak of that visit to Pirmasens and of
poor Marie Steinling without being saddened even
now by the recollections which it awakens.
I was seriously debating with myself whether I
should make a formal proposal to Marie Steinling,
or should cut short my visit and go home at once
in order to speak to my father first on the subject,
when a strange event occurred which changed my
hitherto peaceful life into one of danger and stir-
ring adventure.
We were all seated at supper one evening at
Martin Steinling's, and a couple of guests, namely
the old postmaster Hartmann and his wife, were
beginning to say that it was time for them to take
their leave, when the door was opened suddenly
and the maidservant entered with a face full of
alarm,-indeed, she was so excited that she could
scarcely speak. Martin Steinling rose hastily,
and at the same moment a man, bespattered with
mud from head to foot, pushed his way past the
girl, exclaiming, Heaven be thanked! Heaven be
thanked! I have found my way here at last."
"Mercy on us!" cried old Steinling, "it is





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 13
Peter Glotz. What has happened? are they
here-I mean your master and mistress ?"
By this time we had all risen from our seats, and
were standing round the new comer, who had sunk
into a chair, apparently exhausted. Then, rousing
himself again, he looked first at one, then at
another; but when old Steinling again asked him
about his master, the poor fellow covered his face
with his hands, and burst into a fit of uncontroll-
able grief. It was some time before he became
calm enough to tell what he had to say: it was
a terrible story, and ran pretty much as follows :-
His master, the Count de Ribeauville, the head
of one of the noblest families of Alsace, a great
favourite of Louis XVI., and an officer of high rank
in the French army, had made himself particularly
hateful to the revolutionary leaders by his firm
and intrepid behaviour at the storming of the
Bastille by the mob of Paris. The consequence
was that he was among the first victims whom the
public accusers brought before the newly esta-
blished revolutionary tribunal after the September
massacres. His son, a brave young fellow of
twenty, was killed whilst endeavouring to protect
his father against the fury of the mob, who would
have torn the Count in pieces as he was being
dragged from his house; but his life was saved
for a few hours longer by the heroic courage of
his daughter, the young and beautiful Countess
de Ribeauville, who boldly faced the murderous





14 TWO CAMPAIGNS :
ruffians, and for a moment awed even them into
desisting from their fierce purpose. Her father
perished the next day by the guillotine; but one
of the revolutionary chiefs had been so struck by
the dauntless intrepidity of the young countess,
that he sent to her a pass to enable her to leave
the country, with a kindly injunction that she
should make use of it without a moment's delay,
and quit France at once under an assumed name.
She had friends enough in Paris who would doubt-
less have been glad to receive her in her desolation,
but, as is hardly to be wondered at, she had been
seized with such a horror of the place that she
resolved to avail herself of the opportunity to
escape. Rats, they say, flee from a falling house:
the very servants of her father fled from the Hotel
Ribeauville, lest the fury of the mob might yet light
on all that still belonged to it, and the Countess
Adelaide found only one that remained true to her
in this fearful hour: that one was Peter Glotz.
Filling up the passport with the name of Adelaide
Wildenstein, that being her father's German title,
she quitted Paris the day after the Count's execu-
tion, attended only by this faithful servant, and had
just reached the frontier when she was stopped. A
small detachment of men had been posted on the
French side of the frontier for the very purpose
of arresting the flight of nobles and others who
might endeavour to escape from the country with-
out permission of the authorities-perhaps to join





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 15
the ranks of the allies in arms against France. The
sergeant who commanded this party had the eyes
of a lynx for everything that savoured of the hate-
ful aristocrats, and unfortunately, just as he was
examining the passport of Mademoiselle Wilden-
stein, he caught sight of a coronet with the letters
A. de R. embroidered on her handkerchief. Aha !
here was a discovery: what could be plainer? A
noble lady in disguise leaving France under a
feigned name, -probably with a false passport.
Poor Peter Glotz too,-he no doubt was some duke
or marquis at least. Of course mistress and man
were at once consigned to durance in a small
apartment commonly used as a kind of harness-
room by postilions and the like (for this small
detachment had been placed at an auberge that
had served as a post-house), and a messenger was
at once sent off to the nearest town, and thence on
to Metz or Paris, not so much to verify the pass-
port as to ask for instructions respecting the
captured fugitives.
It was only this morning that I was reading a
letter which I wrote to my father on that very night
when Peter Glotz burst in upon us like a bomb-
shell, and it recalled to me our sensations of horror
as we heard the first part of his story, and then
how we were all melted into tears by Peter's
simple account of his young mistress's fortitude
and resignation under these heavy trials. It was
evident that she really cared far more about the





16 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

fate of her poor retainer than she did about her
own. He told us how he had resolved to try and
save her if he could, by making his escape across
the frontier and carrying the tidings of her arrest
to the nearest German authorities, taking it for
granted that they would interfere on her behalf,
as she too was a German subject, not a French one,
having been born, like her father, on his German
estate of Wildenstein. She at first tried to show
him how utterly useless any such attempt would
be-as indeed it would have been-but presently,
he said, she seemed quite to change her mind
about it. We all perceived, though poor simple
Peter Glotz did not, that all she wanted was that
he should make his escape. Accordingly she told
him that the best thing he could do was to find
his way to Pirmasens, only some twenty leagues
from the frontier, where Martin Steinling, who had
been her father's confidential agent in Germany
for the last thirty years, would best know how to
communicate with the German authorities. At
nightfall Peter escaped by the window, and elud-
ing the vigilance of the sentry, contrived to steal
away unobserved. At the first house he came to
on the German side of the frontier he obtained a
horse, and, after sundry adventures and delays,
reached Pirmasens and surprised us all in the
manner I have described.
For the first time we were all brought face to
face as it were with the terrible guillotine and the


















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A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 17

horrors that marked this period of the French
Revolution. We had indeed heard of them before,
but they had never yet come home to us in such a
manner. We all knew the Count de Ribeauville:
I had often seen him, and he had spoken to me
when he was visiting his estates in Alsace, whilst
Martin Steinling was of course closely connected
with him, and highly esteemed him as a noble and
most upright man. What was to be done? Old
Steinling saw at once that any hope of interference
by the petty authorities at Pirmasens, or even by
the higher authorities at Darmstadt, supposing they
could be got at, would be as useless as trying to
stop an avalanche with one's hand. Yet, out of
compassion for poor Peter Glotz, he hesitated to say
so, and tried rather to suggest that something else
might perhaps be done to help the unfortunate
young Countess. Could no one propose anything ?
Marie Steinling, with the generous vehemence that
characterized her, was for sending me off at once
to dare the French authorities, and to bring away
by force the poor Countess, who had been her play-
mate years ago: this was, however, pronounced
impracticable for many reasons. Various other
plans were then proposed, but were all rejected
by turns.
We were quite at a standstill, and Peter Glotz,
who had looked from one to another with fresh
hope in his countenance as each new plan was pro-
posed, now seemed to have given up all faith in us.
C





18 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

I am afraid there is nothing to be done," said
Martin Steinling sorrowfully. "Can no one help
us ? "
Peter's face seemed to brighten up with a ray of
hope, such as we had not yet seen upon it.
Yes," said he quietly, there is some One who
can help. us. The very last words which my dear
young mistress said to me, as she laid her hand
upon my arm, just as I put my foot on the window-
sill, were these: Remember, Peter, that not only
in this, but in everything else that shall ever happen
to you or any of us, we have no right to hope for a
blessing on what we do, unless we ask it at the
hands of Him who alone can give it.' "
I have often thought of the deep impression
which these words produced upon all present. Not
that there was anything particularly new in the
idea which they conveyed. I daresay that any one
of those who heard them, like other respectable
people, would have felt rather hurt and offended
at being supposed to doubt that every good gift
comes from above, and that the proper way to
obtain what we need is to pray for it; yet too few
of us, I fear, give a living reality to the belief by
acting on it in regard to the concerns of our daily
life, excepting when some great and sudden
calamity wrings a prayer out of us rather from an
involuntary impulse than in any truthful reliance
on its fulfilment.
Well, however that may be, it is certain that






A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 19

poor Peter's words did have a strange effect on
us. We had all been talking at once-one pro-
posing one thing, another something else; but
now all suddenly became silent until, after the lapse
of a minute or so, old Martin Steinling fell upon his
knees, and, while we all devoutly bowed our heads,
offered up a short but earnest prayer that Heaven
would guide and help us in our helplessness to do
the best to aid and comfort this poor young lady
in her need.
As soon as Martin arose, I offered at once to set
out without further delay, and, trusting only in
God's good help and guidance, do what I might
to rescue Mademoiselle von Wildenstein from her
perilous situation.
Every one present seemed to assent to this course.
The postmaster hurried away to prepare a post-
chaise for me to proceed on my journey; and old
Steinling, after quitting us for a few minutes,
returned with a small bag containing all the ready-
money he could scrape together, to be applied in
any way that might prove most advantageous. We
then sat down to await the arrival of the post-chaise,
discussing in the meanwhile the various probabili-
ties of my enterprise. The result was that, almost
at the last moment, we came to the conclusion that
Martin Steinling should go with me. There could
be no doubt that his years and experience might do
much where I might otherwise fail, and, in any
case, we should be able to advise and help each
c2






20 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

other. At length the chaise drove up to the door,
and, after a hasty leave-taking, accompanied with
many wishes for our success, we got into the vehicle
and drove off as fast as four good horses could
gallop.


Old Steinling and I travelled onward for several
posts without any obstacle. As we proceeded, how-
ever, we began to perceive more and more clearly
the effect of the state of war that existed between
the two countries in the want of tillage, consequent
on the drafting away of so many of the rural popu-
lation as soldiers, and the heavy military requisi-
tions for horses. At last, on arriving at a post-
house about twenty miles from the frontier, we found
that there was not a horse to be got for love or
money. This was provoking. Hitherto we had
made such good progress that we had had great
hopes of reaching our destination by an early hour
in the forenoon, but after waiting many hours to no
purpose, we came to the conclusion that our best
course was to travel the next post on foot, and hope
for better fortune.
Here again there were no horses, but the post-
master, on learning the nature of our expedition,
managed to press a pair of fine sturdy animals into
the service from a neighboring farm; but here a
fresh difficulty arose. Owing to the small amount
of travelling between the two countries, the postal






A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 21
arrangements in all these localities were in a very
irregular condition, and there was no postilion at
hand except a poor fellow who had been badly
knocked about by some drunken Republicans
only a few days previously at the very house we
were going to, and who resolutely refused to
drive us. What was to be done ? After a
short consultation, it was arranged that I should
don the postilion's coat, hat, and horn, and drive
to our destination. I had at first proposed to
drive from the front of the chaise in my ordinary
dress, but old Steinling suggested that in case of
his unexpected detention or ill-treatment, I might
still get back in charge of the carriage and horses
and take such further steps as might be neces-
sary. He seemed also to think that he would
have a better chance of negotiating for the release
of the young Countess if he, a grey-headed old man,
appeared, to have come alone on such a mission.
The needful change of costume was a very simple
matter; for I must tell you that, after the manner of
many German students of that period, my nether
habiliments already consisted of yellow buckskins
and huge jack-boots, not very unlike those always
worn by postilions, a much-frogged and braided
frock-coat and jaunty red cap completing my attire.
The glazed hat of a postilion, with its silver lace
band and rosette, was soon mounted; the blue cloth
jacket faced with red was hastily put on, and sling-
ing the brass horn over my shoulder, I jumped into





22 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

the saddle, and in a minute more we were again
en route.
What with one delay and another, the day had
glided away much too fast, and it was already late
in the afternoon when we started from the last
post-house. A red, fiery sun was nearly setting
as we reached a spot about a mile from the frontier,
where the road plunged into a dark and gloomy
wood. I suppose the darkness reminded me of the
time we had lost on the way, for I recollect that I
had just begun to urge the horses on with whip
and shout when I saw a man emerge from the
wood and cross the road just in front of us, ap-
parently dragging after him a large bough or
limb of a tree. Halloa!" cried I, as I pulled
up the horses, do you think it such a pleasant
affair to have a chaise and pair go over you,
that you choose such a moment for crossing the
road ? "
Instead of hurrying on, however, the man coolly
let go his hold of the branch, so that it lay right
in our way, and turning towards us, regarded first
myself and then old Steinling (who at this inter-
ruption had put his head out of the carriage
window to see what was amiss) with a long and
searching look.
"One would fancy, at all events," said he at
last, that you thought a trip to the guillotine a
pleasant affair, since you are in such a hurry to
get there. Perhaps you'll be in a greater hurry






A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 23
to get back, when you may not find it quite so
easy."
The remark was of course addressed rather to
old Steinling than to me, and there was something
about the man's tone and manner that could not
fail to arrest our attention, although, in outward
appearance, the speaker seemed to be nothing
more than a charcoal-burner or tile-burner of the
poorest class. His clothes were ragged, and his
face and hands blackened with soot and dust,
whilst his voice was rough and harsh,- but his
words unmistakably implied a warning of danger,
and at once caused my travelling-companion to
dismount from the carriage for the purpose of
interrogating him.
At first the man seemed shy and suspicious, but
when he had apparently satisfied himself that we
were Germans who had come from some distance,
he became more communicative, and plainly ad-
vised us, unless our business were of a very urgent
nature indeed, to turn back at once and not
venture across the frontier.
"The soldiers are bad enough," said he. This
victory at Valmy has turned their heads, and
nothing that calls itself German is safe from
violence and brutal insult; but they are kept in
check a little, which is more than can be said of
the rabble that infests the neighbourhood of the
inn, with its infamous owner, Citizen Petitjean.
This fellow," he continued, is feathering his






24 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

nest by truckling to the worst passions of all the
idle vagabonds about this part of the country,
whom he thus collects round his house, to his own
no small advantage in the way of business, to say
nothing of what he makes by the extortion which
he practises on any unfortunates who still manage
to escape from unhappy France by this route.
Following up the silly foolery of the capital, which
leads all would-be good citizens to ape the old
Romans, he has got hold of a theatrical helmet
and tunic from the wardrobe of some strolling
players, and has dropped his old name of Jean
Baptiste for the more high-sounding style of
Citizen Romulus Brutus Petitjean. At first he
called himself Romulus Remus; but on somebody's
telling him they were kings of Rome, he would
straightway have dropped the hated names, but
he ultimately decided to keep that of Romulus on
hearing that he stabbed his own brother. As for
the inn itself, he has altered its old name of the
' Lion d'Or' to the foul title of the Guillotine,' of
which horrible instrument he has hung up a ghastly
effigy by way of signboard in front of the house."
I felt sick at heart as I heard these words, and
I could see Martin Steinling turn pale. Good
heavens," said he, I trust that no harm has be-
fallen the poor young lady on whose behalf I have
made this journey;" and with that he explained
our object to the stranger.
"I can relieve your anxiety so far," was the





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 25

reply, "as to tell you that the poor young lady
was well and unharmed an hour ago. I heard that
an order had just come that she should be sent
back to Metz under a strong escort, as a rumour
had got abroad that some individuals of the Royal
family had made their escape from Paris, in spite
of the precautions of the authorities. I scarcely
knew whether to be glad or sorry, for that fellow
Petitjean has been haranguing the riff-raff about
the place, with the evident intention of leading
them on to massacre the prisoner."
Then, come what may, let us hurry on at once,"
I exclaimed. If we can do nothing else, we may
at least be able to help the guard to protect the
unhappy lady from the fury of the people."
"From which I can gather that you, young sir,
are about as much a postilion as "
As you are a tile-burner, good friend," I
answered hastily; but come, Herr Steinling," I
added, "there is no time to be lost, and at all
events we must know what comes of all this."
God speed you !" exclaimed the stranger, as
Martin got into the carriage. "If it should come
to the worst, I shall not be far off."
I was just thinking that a curve in the road,
which I perceived a little way ahead, must bring
us in sight of the military post at the auberge of
Citizen Petitjean, and was speculating on the re-
ception we might meet with, when we were
stopped by a couple of sentinels. On Martin's





26 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

explaining to them that his object was to speak
with the officer commanding the detachment, he
was made to get out of the chaise, and whilst
one of the sentries remained on guard where we
found them, the other bade my companion march
before him on foot to the inn, I following them
at a walk with the empty chaise. Hereupon I
lighted my pipe-an old favourite college chum, I
may mention-and pricking up my ears and keeping
my eyes wide open, puffed away as phlegmatically
as if the whole business were no affair of the
postilion's so long as he had his pipe and his
trinkgeld.
"We had still a distance of a quarter of a mile or
more to traverse before we arrived, and then we
had to drive round a rather sharp corner to reach
the front of the house. As we did so, my eyes
fell upon a scene which, thanks to the hints we
had received from our friend the tile-burner, there
was not much difficulty in understanding at a
glance. The road was half filled with a score or
two of low scoundrels, some indeed apparently
belonging to the peasant class, but most of them
unmistakably vagabonds of the vilest character.
There were also two or three soldiers loitering
about; whilst standing on one of the ale benches
in front of the house was a diminutive wretch with
a disproportionately large head and bloated fea-
tures, holding forth to the mob at the top of his
shrill voice. There was no mistaking him after the





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 27
picture we had had of him. A ragged white tunic
and red cloak, bare legs and tawdry sandals, pro-
claimed the wearer to be Citizen Romulus Brutus
Petitjean in all his glory. I heard him shout out
some of the outrageous abuse against the nobles,
the Capets, and the aristocrats, so rife amongst
the sans-culottes of those horrible days; but his
harangue was suddenly cut short by the appearance
of his spouse, who had probably seen the post-
chaise approaching, and who now rushed on poor
Citizen Romulus, and, after a brief but particularly
pointed philippic on his wasting his time on such
stuff instead of looking after his business, gave
him a shake which caused the crestfallen orator to
make a precipitate descent from his precarious
elevation. There was a shout of laughter from a
few of the mob, but the rest had already begun to
crowd round Martin and the soldier; who, however,
were soon extricated by some of the man's com-
rades lounging about the spot, and he and Martin
passed into the house. The postchaise and horses,
with your humble servant, now became the centre
of attraction, and I began to feel a little uneasy
as some of the fellows pressed against the horses,
uttering language that boded no good to the rider.
German dog!" "Prussian canaille !" were
amongst the epithets that saluted my ears. Then
came threats yet more ominous. "Dip him in the
pond." "Let's serve him as we did the other
rascal." "He's a spy, depend upon it." To be






28 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

sure; whoever saw a postilion with student-club
tassels to his pipe?" "To the lamp-post with
him! Hang him up for a villanous German spy! "
With these and similar cries, the fellows made
a rush at me; but at this critical moment the
sergeant ran out of the house with three or four



















THIE RESCUE.

of nis men, who, by dint of good hearty blows
with the butt-ends of their muskets, drove off the
foremost of my assailants and rescued me from
their clutches.
"Here is a pretty business!" exclaimed the
sergeant fiercely; "do you think I am going to let





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 29
you get me into another mess at head-quarters, as
you did the other day, you rascals ? Be off
with you, or, morbleu we will try whether a
taste of the bayonet will make you. Here,
you two !- Plouf and Regnaud--take the pos-
tilion and his chaise into the yard, and mount
guard there at the gate, and shoot me the first
scoundrel that tries to make his way in !")
The orders of the sergeant were at once obeyed,
amidst the yells of the mob, who, however, knew
him to be a determined fellow, and did not dare to
interfere with the proceedings; so, for a time at
least, I felt myself tolerably safe.
The yard was a large, roughly-paved court, with
a range of low stables opposite to the gate, and,
on the left, was the side of the inn itself, along
which ran a rude verandah, a couple of feet from the
ground, into which two or three side doors opened
from the house. I perceived at once that it was
of the utmost importance that I should keep up
my character as a genuine postilion, and I con-
sequently began to look about for the means of
watering my horses. I felt, however, that I was
playing a part which I had but little studied, and
was beginning to despair of carrying it through,
when, to my great joy, I saw our friendly tile-
burner actually coming out of the stables with a
pail of water, which he hoisted up to the horses
to drink from, in the most unconcerned and
business-like manner. I sauntered up to him,





30 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

and as I busied myself about the harness, I heard
him whisper softly, Take it coolly; go to the pos-
tilion's room yonder: you will find other boots
there, and, whatever you do, get rid of that con-
founded pipe, or it will hang you yet. It was I
who fetched out the sergeant, and only just in
time. It is a bad business, but I will be on the
look-out." Then he raised his voice and added,
" If you want a light, mon ami, you will find one
there in the postilion's harness-room."
It was already growing dusk, but it was still
light enough for the sentries at the gate to see
anything that might be suspicious, so I at once
made for the door under the verandah which my
new friend had pointed out. The first thing I
stumbled over was a large pair of veritable pos-
tilion's boots, well bespattered with mud, and
garnished with large spurs. I need hardly say my
legs were encased in them before you could count
a score, after which I hastily consigned my own
boots, together with my dear old pipe, to the
darkest corner of the little apartment, with a horse-
cloth thrown carelessly over them. I then struck
a light and made a survey of the place.
It was a small room, boarded off from some
larger apartment, and hung round with harness,
whips, an old jacket or two, and other articles
needful to postilions. Amongst other things, I
noticed a common old pipe sticking out of a jacket-
pocket, and considering exchange to be no robbery,





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 31
I at once appropriated it, not knowing when or
where I might obtain another.
All this occupied scarcely a couple of minutes,
but even whilst thus engaged, I could hear that an
animated dialogue was going on in an adjoining
apartment, and I could recognize plainly enough
the voices of Martin Steinling and the sergeant.
I accordingly set myself to find some chink or
cranny where I might hear more distinctly, and
gather all I could of a conversation which must
needs be as important to me as to the speakers
themselves. In doing so, I pushed aside a small
ragged curtain that hung across a little window in
the wooden partition on one side of the room, and
the next moment my eyes lighted on a vision that
will never pass away from my memory. The light
of a candle which stood upon a table on one side
of the window shone full on the uplifted face of a
fair and lovely girl apparently about eighteen or
nineteen years of age, whose kneeling attitude and
hands convulsively clasped together showed her to
be engaged in deep and earnest prayer. But that
face! never had I beheld anything so exquisitely,
so refinedly beautiful, whilst the indescribable
expression of agony that ever and anon passed
over those pallid and careworn features betrayed a
depth of grief which went to my heart.
I stood there I know not how long, gazing in a
kind of trance on this picture of overwhelming
grief, and I hardly dared to breathe, still less to





32 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

draw the little curtain, lest I should disturb one
thus bowed down by sorrow at a moment so hal-
lowed; but even as I looked, I noticed that she
became less agitated, and that the terrible paroxysm
which had wrung that pure young soul had passed
away. The look of anguish gradually gave place
to one of calm and holy resignation, until at last,
even while the great tears still rolled down her
wan cheeks, a peaceful smile seemed, as it were,
to bring back the colour to her lips, and her eyes,
upraised to Heaven, beamed with a trustful joy
beyond the reach of this world's cares and sorrows.
An angry exclamation from the adjoining room
startled both her and me. She turned away her
face for a moment, and I drew the curtain across
the window.
Mille sabres! exclaimed the sergeant at the
top of his voice; "are you mad, you old fool?
But whether you like it or not, go you must: I
have made up my mind to it, and that is enough."
I crept close to the partition at the further end
of my little den, where an obliging knot-hole in
one of the boards now enabled me to hear plainly
every word that passed.
"But, my good friend," replied old Martin,
imploringly.
"But! but! I don't want any of your' buts, "
answered the sergeant. Peste Aren't you con-
tented with my simply pocketing the bribe you
offered me to let the girl go, without obliging me





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 33
to denounce you. at head-quarters ? Or, do you
think a poor fellow like me has not enough on his
conscience in these sanguinary times, without cut-
ting short the two or three years still left to an old
fool like you? Look you, now: I have orders to
send the girl to Metz, and to Metz she goes.
You have done your best to help her, and I
like you for it; and as I happen to have an old
father at home in the south, I mean to save you
from the gallows you seem to have such a hanker-
ing after, so I will just send you back over the
boundary in charge of the sentry who brought
you here."
"At least,," pleaded old Martin earnestly, "let
me speak to the postilion who drove me, or rather,
let the poor fellow drive me back. I would not for
the world that any harm should come to him on
my account, and you know "
Oh, yes, I know, you may make yourself easy
about that. I will see to him; but as for letting
you lay your heads together and hatch some plot
or other for a rescue,-no, no-I am not such a
fool. Now, hold your tongue."
I heard poor Martin give a groan, and then the
sergeant called out, "cHere, Pierre Bourchette!
"Tell Bourchette to come here."
The door opened, and the man made his appear-
ance, I suppose, for the sergeant went on to say,
" Look here! you will return at once to your post,
taking this old man with you. See him well over
D





34 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

the line, and take care that he does not communi-
cate with any living soul till you are rid of him.
If he offers to escape, or to come back, or if he
speaks to any one on the way, shoot him through
the head. You will then resume your guard with
Jean Bailly till relieved.-Allons Marche "
So there was poor Martin disposed of, but
happily in safety-and she, poor girl, was to be
taken back to Metz: but what was to become of
me ?
To tell you the plain truth, the turn which
things had taken simply bewildered me, and I
tried in vain to collect my thoughts to any good
purpose. "At any rate," thought I, I will let the
poor young lady know that there is some one here
who sympathizes with her in her sorrow, and would
help her if he could. So I once more gently pushed
aside the ragged curtain and looked in. She was
now seated close to the little window, but her face
was bent over a small book which she was reading,
and I could see that it was a Bible. The light fell
full upon her golden hair, which had partly escaped
from the simple ribbon with which it had been
gathered up, and two or three long wavy ringlets
strayed loosely over her shoulders. She seemed
so calm and quiet that I could scarcely find it in
my heart to disturb her; but the matter was
urgent, and so I gave a gentle tap at the window.
She started, and turning her face, bent her deep
blue eyes upon the window, though she apparently





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 35
could not distinguish at first that any one was
there. Then as she perceived a strange face so near
to her, she arose and stepped back a pace or two.
Just then I noticed that the window was fastened,
on my side of it, with
a small catch of some ,i
kind. I opened it at
once, and, leaning
forward, addressed a
the young Countess ___1_
in German, saying in
a low but earnest
tone, My dear J I
young lady, do not
be alarmed. I am
a friend, though a
stranger to you. I
have come hither
with good old Martin
Steinling from Pir-
masens, to see if we
cannot do something
to help you in your
trouble."
At these words a MAX. LOOKING AT THE COUNTESS READ ING .
bright smile came
over her sweet face, and she stepped forward to the
window, exclaiming joyfully, "What! then my
good, faithful Peter Glotz has escaped. I am
indeed thankful. It is so, is it not ?"
D2






36 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

Yes," I answered; he reached us safely, but
not until late last night, and we started immediately;
but we met with many vexatious stoppages, or we
should have been here sooner;" and then I gave her
a brief and hurried account of what had befallen us,
ending with poor Martin's being sent off only a few
minutes previously.
I ought to tell you, by the way, that in speaking
to her I did not exactly say my dear young lady."
That would have been an impertinent freedom in our
relative positions. What I did say was, Gnadiges
Frdulein." Gnaidiges literally means "gracious,"
just as you say Your Grace" in England. That is
the proper way to address a young lady of rank and
title, as she really was; for she was, in her own
right, and not by mere courtesy only, the Countess
de Ribeauville, and also Countess von Wildenstein.
Well, I have never forgotten the changing ex-
pression of her beautiful face, as I told her what had
occurred. Gladness and sorrow, benevolence and
sympathy, were depicted on it by turns as they
alternately rose in the pure and ingenuous heart
within. When I ceased speaking there was a short
pause, and I saw the tears come once more into her
eyes. Then she said, with a melancholy smile, I
thank you, I thank you all, from my heart. I
thought I had nothing more to live for, but I
find I have yet dear friends in the world, and their
loving sympathy touches me. Yet I am glad that dear
old Martin Steinling has been sent away safely, and





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 37

I do entreat you, my good, though unknown, friend,
to think only how you too may escape without delay.
Do not grieve for me," she added, as I was about to
interrupt her, I have seen death so often of late,
and in such fearful shapes, that it has no terrors for
me any more. Indeed, indeed, I have longed to be
at rest, and from what you tell me, I suppose I shall
be so very soon. For a moment the touching affec-
tion which my dear friends at Pirmasens have shown
for me seemed to revive some little wish to live, but
it may not be, and I am ready to meet what has
already befallen all those dearest to me,--at least I
humbly hope that I am; and with these words
she raised her bright eyes and crossed her hands
upon her bosom with a look of peaceful and most
heavenly resignation. I could not speak: my heart
was too full, and I felt the tears stealing down my
cheeks.
See now," said she, "I have saddened you with
my selfish sorrow, instead of encouraging you, as I
should have done. Leave me to my fate, which all
your efforts cannot avert. Remember me lovingly
to my dear, good friends, not forgetting honest
Peter, who was so true to his poor mistress. May
God bless you, too, my last earthly friend, for your
noble endeavours to save me. Farewell !"
She stretched forth her hand to me. I clasped
it in mine and kissed it reverently.
May heaven desert me in my worst need," said
I, half choked with emotion, if I leave you.






38 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

most sweet and noble lady, at a moment of such
danger."
She made some answer, but I could not distin-
guish what she said, for the sergeant and some one
else (whom I recognized by his shrill voice to be
Citizen Petitjean) came along the verandah just
then, apparently disputing about something, and
making a fine hubbub.
I tell you he is a spy and a traitor, and no
postilion at all," squeaked the contemptible wretch.
If you don't believe me, only look at his boots, or
his pipe, and judge for yourself."
I closed the window in haste, just as the sergeant,
who carried a lantern in his hand-for the evening
was fast closing in-pushed open the door of the
little harness-room, exclaiming, We will soon see
that. Here, Johann, Fritz, or whatever your ras-
cally German name may be, let us look at your
boots."
He held down the light as he spoke, and as he
did so, I quietly drew out my newly-acquired pipe
and began leisurely to fill it.
Dandy Student's boots exclaimed he, turning
towards Petitjean, who stood open-mouthed and
staring like a fool in the doorway. Well, of all the
liars I ever came across !-stay where's the pipe?
Ah!" he added, as he held up the lantern and
looked at the battered old thing, scarcely worth a
batzen that I held in my hand,-" Ah just of a
piece with the lie about the boots, as I supposed."





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 39

"Look here, Citizen Romulus," said he, turning
fiercely upon the amazed innkeeper, "this is not
the first time you have tried to get me to do your
bloodthirsty work for you by a pack of lies, but it
shall be the last! With these words he seized
the terrified little man by the collar, and after giving
him a good shake, flung him into a corner of the
room, saying, Lie there till I get this other little
business over, and then we will come to an under-
standing once for all. Allons Monsieur Postilion,"
he added, turning to me, "I have some work for you,
my fine fellow. You must drive the prisoner to
Forbach, where I daresay our folks will find some
other means of sending her on to Metz! "
"To Forbach!" I exclaimed in a grumbling
tone; and who is to pay me ? Where is the gen-
tleman I brought here ? "
"Pay you, you rascal!" replied the sergeant.
" Be thankful that you get off so easily, and don't
get paid with a rope, as your friend Citizen Romulus
intended. Come, jump into your saddle, and bring
the chaise up here, whilst I fetch out the lady."
Thereupon he turned the key of the harness-room
door on Monsieur Petitjean, and entered the room
in which the Countess was detained.
I looked anxiously about for the tile-burner: he
was at the horses' heads, and as I mounted he whis-
pered, in a tone of excitement which he could not
suppress, She is lost! I overheard those scoun-
drels a little while ago arranging a plan to waylay





40 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

the chaise on the road, overpower the soldiers, and
carry out their horrible design in the woods between
this and Forbach! "
"Let us tell the sergeant," said I; better
trust to him than them."
"He will not believe it," replied he.
"Hola!" cried the sergeant from the verandah,
where he now reappeared with the unhappy young
lady. "What are you waiting for? Look sharp !"
I drove up, bewildered by what I had just heard,
and still thinking it would be best to inform him.
In the meanwhile he gave his orders to the two
soldiers, who had quitted their post at the gate, and
now placed themselves close to the carriage. He
then handed the poor young Countess down the
steps. As they stood there together for a few
moments, she said to him with a kindly smile,
"You have, I doubt not, only done your duty,
sergeant, in detaining me and sending me back.
At all events, and whatever may befall me, I for-
give you from my heart if I have anything to
forgive, and I thank you for some little considera-
tion which you have shown to me whilst alone and
a prisoner in such a place." She bowed slightly
as she said these last words, and then entered the
chaise. The sergeant seemed quite taken by sur-
prise and made no reply, but as he shut the carriage
door I heard him mutter to himself-" To think of
that! 'tis a pity, and so young and lovely too!
But what can I do ?"





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 41
I was about to run the risk of telling him what
I had learned and asking at least for an additional
couple of men to convoy us, when I heard a loud
shout, and on looking round, I beheld Citizen
Romulus with his head thrust out of the window
shouting in a most excited manner:
"Sergeant, sergeant! if you won't believe me,
will you believe that ?" And at the same mo-
ment one of my dandified boots was hurled from
the window and fell at the sergeant's feet.
He looked round in amazement, then picked up
the boot and examined it for an instant.
Or perhaps you will believe that," cried
Petitjean once more; this time flinging out my
own dear old pipe, with its tassels of my club-
colours-red, green, and gold.
This time, however, Citizen Romulus did not
take so good an aim, and the pipe alighted full on
the nostril of the horse on which I was mounted.
The animal, a fine spirited Mechlenburgher, reared
up, almost unseating me, and then sprang forward,
a movement instantly imitated by his companion;
and before I could well grasp the reins they had
reached the gate and dashed into the road. Then,
instead of turning to the right towards Forbach,
they naturally and instinctively turned their heads
homewards, and began to gallop away towards the
frontier as fast as if their own lives, instead of the
lives of those they bore along, depended on their
speed.





42 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

You may be sure that from the very moment
they reached the open road, I caught up the
idea of a homeward flight, and that I plied the
noble creatures (for they were no common post-
hacks, as I told you) both with whip and spur. I
daresay there was a fine uproar at the inn, but I
heard nothing of it as we clattered away over the
stony chaussee, excepting indeed the reports of
two or three muskets fired after us, but happily
without effect.
In an almost incredibly short time we had
reached the next curve of the road between a
quarter and half a mile from the inn, and, as we
approached it I recollected that the two sentries
were posted there. Round we swept, and there
they were, sure enough. They had evidently
heard the horses galloping, and had placed them-
selves in the middle of the road to stop us. One
of them was about fifty yards nearer to us than
the other,-so near indeed that he had not time
to get out of the way, and before he could do
so, one of the horses brushed against him and
threw him down. The other man, taking warning
from this, stepped back a pace or two, and as we
came up, presented and fired.
The horse on which I was riding gave a loud
snort, bounded up, and then came down upon his
knees, pitching me right over his head into the
road, where I alighted head foremost.
I saw the black tops of the fir-trees spin round,





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 43
then a thousand fireballs whirled about me, and
then all was a blank.





I was not killed by my fall, as you may fairly
surmise from the circumstance that I am now
telling you my story. Poor Marie, I recollect,
used to say that my head was too thick for any-
thing to break it; but in reality the strong leather
hat which I had on, and the then prevailing fashion
of wearing the hair long and thick, saved my life
at that critical moment. I was stunned indeed,
but even that could only have been for a couple
of minutes at most. When I opened my eyes, the
first thing I beheld was the poor horse, who had
recovered his feet, dripping with sweat, bleeding
profusely from a wound in the neck and trembling
violently all over. The next thing I saw was that
the two soldiers were dragging the Countess out of
the carriage, and one of them thrust her rudely
down upon a heap of stones by the roadside. This
at once brought back my scattered senses. Start-
ing up from the ground, I rushed upon the fellow
and grappled with him. I was, I fancy, a formid-
able antagonist in those days, for besides standing
over six feet without my shoes, I was well skilled
in fencing, swimming, wrestling, the bayonet-
exercise, and all sorts of feats of strength; so I





44 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

just seized my opponent by the waist, and lifting
him up, dashed him down upon the road with such
violence as to disable him from doing any further
mischief. The other sentry caught up his musket,
which he had laid down for the moment, and raised
it to fire at me, but I was too quick for him.
Catching hold of the weapon, I wrested it from
him, and then dealt him a blow with it which
knocked him senseless into the ditch by the road-
side. As I did so, however, the piece went off,
the bullet giving me an ugly graze from the wrist
to the elbow; but this was not the worst of it, for
the horses, frightened by the report, immediately
started off again at a gallop.
"Are you hurt, pray tell me ? exclaimed the
young Countess anxiously, as I went up to her.
Oh, never mind about that," said I; "the
first thing to be thought of is what are we to do
next; these fellows will not trouble us, I will
answer for it, but I think I hear others coming
after us from the inn."
Yes," she replied, calmly, "I am afraid it is so.
The carriage was our only hope, and that is now
gone."
Stay," said I, even that may serve us a good
turn; they may fancy we have gone off in it.
Quick, quick, my dear lady! into the wood-into
the wood!"
With ready intelligence she acted on the sugges-
tion, and in another minute we had plunged into





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 45
the forest that skirted the road, and were making
our way through the thick underwood.
Hush," whispered I, as we came upon a small
patch of broken ground studded with bushes, let
us crouch down here, or they may still see or hear
us-they are quite close.".
Such was indeed the case. While we were thus
ensconced, I could plainly hear the noise of many
feet on the road hard by, and also the voice of the
sergeant.
I heard two musket-shots," said he; "but
never a bird can I see,-they must have got away,
for the carriage is out of sight, though it seemed to
stop hereabouts. But what on earth has become of
our own men ?" Here he suddenly ceased speak-
ing, and then shouted out: "Mille bombers, here's
Bourchette." "And here," cried one of the soldiers,
"is Bailly, in the ditch."
Hereupon they seemed to be examining the bodies,
for there was a short silence.
"cI cannot make it out," said the sergeant.
"They are not wounded, and I don't think either
of the rascals is dead; they seem only stunned, and
Bailly is coming to himself, I think. Allons!
Advance cautiously for half a mile, two of you, and
bring back your report to Petitjean's. The rest of
us will carry back these fellows. Peste! but they
must have been asleep, to let a bit of a girl get the
better of them like this; unless," he added briskly,
", unless that scoundrel the postilion has done it all





46 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

Postilion, indeed! Well, that rascal Petitjean
will have a nice laugh at me, after all; but I'll be
quits with him some day."
The party then separated; two of the soldiers
advancing along the road, whilst the sergeant and
the rest of them carried the two disabled sentinels
"back to the inn.
"Now is our time, madame," said I. "We
must plunge into the depths of the wood, and
not attempt to regain the road for a little while.
Nay," I added, as the Countess commenced some
expression of gratitude to me, "there, is time
enough for that when we are safely housed on
German soil; for the present we must keep our
eyes and ears open, and make the best of our way
through these troublesome brambles. Come,
gnadiges Frdulein, I will go on first, and help you
whenever you require it." So saying, I began to
clear a path for her as well as I could, and we made
the best of our way in such a direction as would
keep us clear of the chaussee. This was a task of
some difficulty, as well as anxiety, for it soon be-
came quite dark, and, in addition to this, a mist
began to rise out of the damp ground, which had
been saturated by some heavy rains during the pre-
vious week. For a long time we could find no path
at all, and, though my great boots protected me,
the dress of my gentle companion was soon torn in
all directions by the tangled masses of brambles
through which we had to force a passage. At





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 47
length, to my great joy, we came upon a track of
some kind-one could hardly call it a path-and
after a short consultation we resolved to follow it
cautiously, and see whither it led. Just then we
heard the neighing of horses in the distance. The
sound drew nearer and nearer, until, to our sur-
prise, we perceived that a couple of men were
galloping past within twenty yards of us, and from
the jingling of sabres, and a few words which we
overheard, it was clear that they must be French
dragoons, and that in the darkness we had again
almost come upon the road without being awaro of
it. Some time after this, as we turned aside a little,.
to avoid what seemed to be a stump of a tree, we
found that it was a man with a bundle of faggots
on his back. This startled us not a little, but the
man seemed even more alarmed than we were, for
he uttered a loud cry, and then, flinging down his
load, scampered away into the forest as if he had
seen a ghost.
We had been thus wandering about for nearly an
hour when we suddenly came to a spot which, from
its being cleared of underwood, seemed likely to
adjoin some dwelling. The mist had now thickened
into a fog, but we groped our way along until we
almost ran up against a building of some kind, and
at the same moment a voice, that I was only too
thankful to recognize, fell upon my ears: Good
heavens! cried our friend the tile-burner, is it
really you ? What are you doing here again ? I





48 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

hoped and believed that you had happily escaped
across the frontier, and here you are again, almost
in their very jaws."
I briefly told him what had befallen us, and, in
reply, he informed us that he had been with the
party who found the two soldiers, and took them
back to the inn.
"They are not dead?" asked the Countess
anxiously. "Poor fellows, they were but doing
their duty."
"No, madame," replied the man; "they were
both badly hurt, but will soon be all right again."
Then he went on to say that the two scouts sent
forward by the sergeant came back without any
tidings of the post-chaise, and it had been there-
upon taken for granted that the Countess and her
driver, whoever he might be, had escaped across the
frontier, and that all further pursuit was hopeless.
It is unfortunate," he added, in conclusion,
" that you have wandered back in this direction, for
I am sorry to say that you are not five hundred yards
from the hateful place which you have so much
reason to avoid; but as soon as you have rested
yourselves a little in my poor hut, we will set out
again, and, knowing as I do, every path in the
wood, I can soon place you in safety."
My fair companion did, indeed, need rest, and, to
say the truth, I was not in much better plight, for
my wounded arm began to cause me great pain. I
thought at first of saying nothing about it; but the
tile-burner's sharp eyes soon discovered that there





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 49
was something more the matter with me than mere
bramble-scratches.
He had by this time led us into his miserable
little hut, where, by the light of a brightly blazing
wood fire, which seemed to have been recently
kindled, he perceived that my sleeve had been
nearly shot or burnt away, and that I had received
a wound which might prove serious if neglected.
The distress of the poor young Countess, on finding
that I had been thus injured in rescuing her, was
most touching, but I made light of the affair, and
the tile-burner soon washed and bound up my arm
with a care and adroitness that quite astonished us.
He told us, whilst he was thus occupied, that he
had been in the army, and had, on more than one
occasion, helped the surgeons to dress the wounds
of his men.
"You have been in command, then? said the
Countess, with some little surprise, for you may
remember she had not had even as much oppor-
tunity of forming an idea about him as I had.
"Yes, madame," replied the man calmly. "If
I speak of myself, it is only because I would have
you believe that God can give us strength to bear
even such sorrows as I fear must have befallen you
but lately; be they what they may, they can
scarcely equal those of him who now stands before
you."
May Heaven help you," said the dear young
lady, feelingly. God only can measure the depths
E





50 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

of our griefs, or send us consolation. Yours is,
indeed, but a wretched condition for one who has
seen better days."
"Better days," repeated the tile-burner; "the
loss of them would be but a light thing to bear
amid trials and sorrows such as mine have been,
although my house was one of the noblest and
most ancient that ever gave lustre to a ducal
coronet."
I turned towards our fair companion in amaze-
ment. Would you believe it, she did not seem to
be in the least astonished by this sudden announce-
ment, though her sweet face was full of gentleness
and pity. As for me, the very idea that the man
who had just been dressing my arm was a duke's
son-perhaps actually a duke himself-quite took
away my breath.
I daresay he noticed my surprise, for he added,
with rather less animation than he had previously
shown, If it be Heaven's will that we should some
day meet again in safety, I may perhaps tell you
how it has come about that I am in this place and
in such a plight. I am glad, however, that my being
here has put it in my power to serve one who is in
sorrow like myself; but we have no time for talking
now. We had better start at once, or these people at
the station may yet find out that you are here. Such
news always flies apace. I have not even a crust to
offer you, but a cup of water and this short rest will
enable you to reach a spot, to which I will guide





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 51

you, well on the German side of the line, and from
which you will easily reach the nearest German
village. Come, let us--"
As he spoke the last words, the expression of his
face changed to one of great anxiety. Then he
seemed to listen intently for a moment, and before
I could ask him what had happened, I heard the
sergeant's well-rememberod voice, within a dozen
yards of the hut, exclaiming, Hola! Jacques!
Hang the fellow, he ought to have a good conscience
if he has gone to sleep already."
The sergeant had scarcely finished speaking when
the tile-burner, who, it seems, went by the name of
Jacques, hastily crossed the floor of the hut and
pulled open a door so ingeniously contrived as to
defy discovery, it being in fact part and parcel
of the solid rough logs which formed the back wall
of the building.
"Quick! said he, as he pushed us through the
opening. "Keep close, and watch what goes on.
If necessary, conceal yourselves in the wood in
yonder direction until I come to seek you; but I
cannot think he is looking for you, and you may be
safer close at hand."
Saying this, he re-entered the hut, and closed
the door. There were plenty of chinks in the
roughly-built tenement, and the light within enabled
me to see that he crossed over to the proper door,
and opening it slowly, replied to the unwelcome
intruder as if just aroused out of sleep.
E2






52 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

"Heyday! What brings you here, my good
sergeant ? Is anything fresh the matter ? "
Well," replied his visitor, I suppose there is,
or you would hardly catch me here at this time in
such weather."
He entered the hut, carrying his musket in one
hand and a large lantern in the other, and was fol-
lowed by two of his men, who posted themselves on
either side of the door.
Have you caught the runaways ?" asked
Jacques, carelessly.
Not yet," answered the sergeant, but I expect
to do so very soon." Hereupon he cast a searching
glance round the hut, taking a step or two in more
than one direction, poking up with the muzzle of
his musket a coarse straw mattress in one corner,
and striking the floor here and there with the butt-
end.
"Why, you surely did not expect to find them
here ?" exclaimed Jacques, apparently much as-
tonished.
Yes, I did," replied the sergeant; "but it
seems I have just come too late. You need not
tell me that they are not stowed away here, because
you see I am an old hand at this business, and can
tell almost at a glance that this villanous shed has
no hiding-place big enough for our six-foot friend
the postilion, even if I had not been here on the
same errand more than once before. For all that,
however, it is clear enough that you know where






































































THE TtLE-BURNER AS GUID,
.Paqe ,





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 53

they are,-possibly hidden in the wood, where you
fancy that there is not the ghost of a chance of their
being unearthed in such weather as this. Well, I
don't mind telling you that I am not going to begin
such a wild-goose chase, especially after floundering
about up to our knees in quagmires, even in finding
our way here through this abominable wood."
"But did you not make out that they must have
escaped in the carriage? said Jacques, innocently
enough.
Now, look here, Master Jacques," said the ser-
geant, curtly; "I am a straightforward fellow, so
I will tell you plainly how the case stands. When
I have told you, I will ask you one question, and
leave you to say Yes' or 'No,' as you choose, and
take the consequences. We did think they had got
clear off, but they had not. One of the men has
come to himself, and swears that before he fainted,
or became stupid, whichever you like, he saw that
rascally postilion wrench Bailly's musket from him
and knock him down; the piece went off in the fel-
low's hand, the horses bolted, and the last thing he
saw was that our friends ran into the wood. Just
as he had told us this, up came two dragoons with
orders to send on the prisoner at once: 'tis said she
is no other than Marie Antoinette herself. A pretty
business for me if she gives us the slip, after all,
indeed, instead of my pocketing a hundred thousand
francs by the job I had just ordered the dragoons
off to patrol the road when in comes Babceuf, the






S5% TWO CAMPAIGNS:

wood-cutter, declaring that he had seen a couple of
ghosts in the wood, close to the very inn itself; but
on questioning him, I made out clearly enough that
the ghosts could be no other than the folks I am
after, and, what is more, they were evidently making
direct for Master Jacques's hut; and if that is not
enough," he added, stooping suddenly and picking
up something that lay on the floor, I have been
eyeing this for some time past, and unless I have
been an hospital assistant after a. battle or two to
no purpose, it is part of the sleeve of a man who
has been shot in the arm. See 'tis all singed, and
wet with blood, and, mille bombes, there is a bit of
the cuff, which shows it was a postilion's jacket "
I saw the tile-burner change countenance, but he
folded his arms and made no remark.
Good said the sergeant. I don't think I
have wasted time, because now you see that it is
quite useless to deny that you know all about them;
but we will make a short end of it all. If in five
minutes' time my lady is safe in my hands, I engage
to let you go scot-free; nay, seeing what a scrape it
will get me out of, I promise you half the reward,
whatever it may be. Now, that I call handsome.
Stay! I will even go so far as to pledge my word
to let the postilion off too, and take my chance
about that. Come, is it a bargain? "
"And if I refuse,-what then?" said Jacques,
with assumed indifference.
"What then?" rejoined the sergeant fiercely;





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 55
"Dog I will shoot you down, where you stand,
without so much as giving you time to say a
Paternoster. Make ready-present!" he added,
turning quickly to his men at the door, who
instantly cocked their muskets and covered their
man.
"Well, then" retorted the tile-burner, firmly,








h f/








SCENE IN THE TILE-BURNER S HUTT.
" if the reward were a hundred times as great, and
if I could save my life a hundred times over by it, I
would not."
"" Stay! exclaimed a low sweet voice, as a figure
passed hastily across the smoke that curled lazily
up from the smouldering fire. Stay, I beseech
you, my good sergeant ; I accept the offer you have






56 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

made to him, and surrender myself to you in full
reliance on your promise, as a soldier and a
Frenchman, that you will let these brave men
depart in safety."
It was the young Countess. I had noticed a
rustling sound close to me in the dark, but never
dreamt of her taking such a step as that. The
sergeant, not less surprised than I, stood looking
at her with astonishment not unmixed with
admiration.
"Yes," she continued, "I can make your con-
science easy about letting them go, for I can assure
you on my word that they are no conspirators who
have laid such a plot to rescue me as might make
it your duty to detain them. As for this poor man,
I never saw him in all my life till I came here, and
do not even know his name. The postilion is
indeed known to the gentleman whom he drove to
the inn, but to me he was, until this day, an utter
stranger. They have done nothing beyond what I
feel assured that a brave man like you can readily
excuse, in endeavouring to help a woman in
distress."
Madame," replied the sergeant, with an
evident desire to be as polite and gallant as the cir-
cumstances would permit, I am sure that no one
can be a better judge of bravery than you. I
swear to you that I would do no less for you myself;
but duty is duty. What can I do ? Your escape
would have cost me my life, or still worse, would





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 57
have brought disgrace upon me. Indeed I am so
thankful that you are once more safe in my hands
that I shall be delighted to grant your request by
letting these fellows go,-that is, of course, as
soon as I can safely do so."
Here he turned quickly to his men and made a
sign to them. In an instant they had crossed their
bayonets in front of the tile-burner in such a
manner as to pin him to the wall, though without
hurting him. As he tried to raise his hands, the
sergeant adroitly slipped a running noose over his
wrists and drew it tight.
"Is this your promise, sir?" exclaimed the
Countess indignantly.
Nay, madame," was the reply ; "he shall be
set at liberty all in good time, but you would not
have me give him and our friend the postilion a
chance of waylaying us on our road back Three
to two would be poor odds,-even with muskets in
our hands-in inclosed ground, with a fog so thick
that one can hardly see the length of the barrel.
No! no! I am too old a hand at the work for that.
Moreover, it is part of the arrangement that our
postilion be also given up before we start, or
Monsieur Jacques here remains my prisoner alto-
gether."
I had perceived, long before this, that any
attempt at further resistance on my part would be
useless and might even be dangerous. In fact I
was so shaken by my fall and exhausted from loss






58 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

of blood, that a child might have overpowered me.
Accordingly, as the sergeant finished speaking,
I presented myself at the open door and stood
before him. My face, I daresay, was ghastly
enough, and my knees shook under me, so that I
was obliged to support myself for the moment
against the door-post.
"Heyday cried the sergeant, "what is all
this? No wonder Baboeuf fancied he had seen a
ghost. Well, so much the better: we shall not
want to handcuff you. Yet after all," added he,
"it is better to be on the safe side," and seizing
my right hand and the left hand of the Countess,
he passed a cord round our wrists in a moment.
" Good," said he, and now the sooner we are off
the better. Allons, Marche I suppose we must
go single file through this villanous wood. You,
Plouf, to the front Jacques follows; I will go
next with the prisoners, and you, Regnaud, bring
up the rear. Close up, men, and send a bullet
through any one that attempts to esca.pe."
We had by this time assembled in front of the
hut. The fog had partially, though not wholly,
cleared away, but it was of course exceedingly
dark.
"Which way, sergeant ?" asked our advanced
guard; "we shall never get mademoiselle over the
bogs we came through."
Petitjean said there was a good path, but it
could not have been the one we took. Here, you





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 59
Jacques! you can carry a lantern though your
hands are tied, and you know every path in the
wood I'll be bound. Take us by the road Petitjean
meant, and I'll give you a five-franc piece when
we part."
With this he handed the lantern to the tile-
burner, who took it without a word, and for a
moment held it aloft as high as the cord round his
wrists would permit, taking, as he did so, a rapid
survey of the group.
I well remember noticing what a strange shadowy
picture it was. There stood the tile-burner's wild
and ragged figure, with the light full upon him, as
unlike as might be to the quaint forms of the
soldiers with their great three-cornered cocked
hats, their long coats looped back at the skirts,
their black gaiters reaching above their knees,
and their white shoulder-belts from which huge
cartouche-boxes hung, the best part of a foot lower
than soldiers wear them nowadays. Contrasting
not less strangely with them, there stood the tall,
slim, graceful figure of the Countess, calm and
composed amid all these vicissitudes, her every
lineament and gesture tinged with that air of quiet
command that bespeaks high and noble birth.
In the background the rough thatched hut lent
picturesqueness to the scene, whilst all around the
tall pines reared their ghostly forms, and seemed
to melt away into a deeper darkness above.
"' Forwards cried the sergeant. You, Master






60 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

Jacques, may as well lead the way, now that I
have my little flock all safe around me."
Jacques did as he was bidden, and we soon
found ourselves marching along a very good path,
though only for a short time, as it soon became
rough and stony, and then seemed about to dis-
appear altogether. The fog meanwhile came on
thicker than ever, and we could scarcely dis-
tinguish each other.
"Do you call this a good path, you rascal? "
cried the sergeant. "'Tis my belief there will soon
be none at all. If you attempt any tricks-- "
"We shall be all right a few yards further on,"
replied Jacques, quickly. "Look out for the
branches overhead, Plouf, whilst I show a light to
the sergeant."
With these words he stepped aside and held up
the lantern. The soldier made a step or two in
advance, and then seemed suddenly to fall down
among the bushes, uttering a loud cry as he dis-
appeared. At the same moment the light was
extinguished, and we found ourselves in utter
darkness.
""This is some villany of yours, you scoundrel!"
exclaimed our captor, rushing forward towards the
spot where Jacques had stood. There was another
cry, followed by the words: "Regnaud shoot the
traitor and then came a splashing sound.
Shoot!" growled the soldier as he strode
quickly to the front. Yes, if I could see any-





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 61

thing to shoot at. Aha! I have caught you,
have I ? "
There was a noise as of men scuffling together:
then a musket went off, and I felt the Countess
cling to my arm as the report was followed by
another cry of terror and another splash. I was
about to step forward to find out what all these
mysterious sounds could mean, when I felt myself
stopped by the strong arm of the tile-burner.
Back, for your life said he; to the right
about, and follow me: this time I think we may
hope for better luck."
We turned and followed him, and in a minute or
two found ourselves upon a better path than any
we had yet come across in our wanderings. Here
our guide stopped for a moment to free our
wrists from the cord that bound us together.
And you ? said I-" your hands were also
tied."
"C Yes, he replied; but our sergeant, with all
his practice, forgot to fasten off the knot; though
I kept my own counsel about that and let him
fancy it was all right."
During this little colloquy Jacques seemed to
notice that both the Countess and I were well
nigh exhausted. Courage, comrade," said he;
"" I think you are really safe at last. Ten minutes
more will put you across the frontier, half a mile
further on you regain the road,-and another half-
mile or so will bring you to a German hamlet,






62 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

beyond the beat of any French patrols, where you
will be perfectly secure."
But the sergeant ?" I inquired wonderingly,
"and his men too ? What of them ? "
"The fools have gone over into the old slate-
quarry one after another, at a spot where it is full
thirty feet deep."
The Countess stopped short, and uttered an ex-
clamation of horror.
Nay, dear lady," said Jacques, if you care to
know it, there is water enough at the bottom, after
these rains, to save the fellows from broken bones,
though hardly enough to drown them. They will
manage to scramble out again; but come, we must
not lose time in making your safety a matter of
certainty."
We soon had the satisfaction of finding that as
we advanced the road became still better, whilst the
fog gradually cleared off. At last our good friend
stopped and addressed us as follows :-
"We are now within a few yards of the line
which separates my country from yours. A few
steps more along this path, and you will be in
Germany. You may safely take to the main road,
which is not far off, and in the next German hamlet
you may rest in perfect security. Farewell! he
added, holding out his hand," my road lies another
way."
"You are surely not going back," said the
Countess, as she took the proffered hand in hers:





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 63
it would be madness to run the risk of being
retaken after what has happened. We owe you
a debt of gratitude, which I at least can never
hope to pay; let us at all events do what we may
to find you a place of refuge from the dangers
which beset you."
"Madame," replied the would-be tile-burner
with emotion, "it may not be. I cannot leave
France."
"Why not?" said I. "Thousands of the noblest
of your countrymen are in arms for the cause of the
unfortunate Louis and his heroic Queen: you have
been a soldier,-why not enlist under the flag that
the allies have raised for the punishment of these
miscreants, the restoration of your rightful monarch,
and the delivery of your beloved France from
anarchy and ruin ?"
"You speak as a German," replied Jacques
sternly. "I love Louis much, but I love France
more, and am not so eager to draw my sword
against my country, possibly indeed for her good,
but perhaps only to dismember her for the advan-
tage of a German king or Kaiser. Pardon me,
good friend," he continued, grasping my hand; "I
desire not to offend you, but my heart is torn with
doubts and fears as to the future fate of unhappy
France, and my duty to my country and my king;
but this is no time to talk of such things; let me
rather tell you, as you and this dear lady show so
kind an interest in me, that I shall take good care






64 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

to keep out of the way of our friend Sergeant
Gingras, and shall avoid any needless danger; not
so much for my own sake as for that of one who
is-1-
Here he paused, apparently agitated by strong
emotion, and then added: "" Suffice it to say,
that there is yet one link dearer than life itself,
which still binds me here: I cannot go with you.
Once more, adieu, and may Heaven protect you."
Before either the Countess or I could reply, he
had hurried away into the wood and disappeared.
We stood silent for a time, somewhat discon-
certed at this abrupt departure of our preserver;
but I soon recalled to mind the risk of being re-
captured which we still ran so long as we remained
comparatively near to the French outpost, and I
accordingly urged my companion to follow, with-
out more delay, the injunctions that poor Jacques
had given us. She acquiesced, and we resumed
our flight in silence; but it was not long before I
perceived that she was much exhausted, and before
we had gone many yards she said faintly:
"cI can go no further. Grief, excitement, want
of rest, and perhaps want of sustenance (for in my
sorrow I had almost forgotten it was needful) have
tasked me beyond my strength."
"" Alas! dear lady," I replied, in the deepest
anxiety, "I do beseech you to persevere a little
longer we must soon reach our journey's end."
"I fear that I have already reached the end of





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 65

mine," she answered, as she sank down on the bank
by the roadside. "I would not distress you if I
could avoid it, after the untiring efforts you have
made to save me, but "
Here her voice grew less and less audible, and as
I sat beside her, supporting her with my arm, I
saw the colour fade
from her lips, which
for a moment or
two gave forth no
sound, though
they still moved
slightly. Then she
seemed to revive a
little, and opening
her eyes, whichhad
been closed for a
time, she said.
softly, yet distinct- '
ly,"Tell goodHerr
Steinling that I
wish any little
money he may have NEARLY OUT OF DANGER.
belonging to my father, to be given to poor faithful
Peter Glotz, who was so true to me. For you,"
she added, speaking more slowly and faintly, "for
you, who have been so brave, and would have saved
me if Heaven had willed it so, I have only loving
thanks and blessings to --" Then came a gentle
sigh, and her head fell upon my shoulder.
F






66 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

She has fainted," I said to myself, yes, yes-
it can only be that-nothing more; and yet a dread
of something far more terrible flitted across my mind.
I tried to find a little water, but there was no way-
side brook near us. I wrung my hands. I believe
I wept over her like a child. It was heartrending
to think that I had only saved her from one fate
to perish thus in this dismal wood; but at length
I collected myself a little. As a last desperate hope
I lifted her up from the ground, scarcely knowing
what I did, and carried her along the path in the
direction we had been following. I know not how
I reached the main road, but I did so, and gather-
ing fresh strength from the feeling that I was one
stage nearer to some living help, I still struggled
on a little way. At length I felt that my strength
was gone, and I was about to give up all hope, when
I perceived close to me some people sitting by the
roadside. They proved to be German peasants,
with whose ready assistance I carried the poor
young Countess to the house of an honest German
couple, in the little hamlet of which our good friend
Jacques had told us, and where we found old
Martin Steinling, who had arrived only a short time
before.

Happily my fears and forebodings about the
Countess were not justified by the event. Thanks
to the care and assiduity of the good woman of the
house, she was soon restored to animation, and on





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 67

the following afternoon was well enough to allow of
our setting out. We procured a country cart, which
took us on to the post-house, where Martin had
obtained the carriage and horses the day before.
On the following morning we resumed our journey,
and before nightfall we were once more safely
housed at Pirmasens. You may imagine the joy with
which we were received, and the interest excited
by the description of our adventures. I need hardly
say how lovingly I was welcomed by Marie Stein-
ling; she was overjoyed at her friend's safety, and
proud of the share I had had in achieving it. As
for Madame Steinling, her encomiums were endless;
and I could not resist the pressing entreaties
which met me on all sides, to prolong my stay for
a few days before going home to my father at
Bouxweiller.
My wounded arm was really very troublesome,
and the doctor urgently enjoined perfect rest for a
short time; so, nothing loth, I deferred my depar-
ture, and wrote to my father a detailed account of
the whole adventure. My letter, however, was not
confined to that subject only. I cannot recollect
exactly how it came about; but in the fulness of
our hearts, Marie and I could not conceal our affec-
tion for each other, and I formally asked Martin
Steinling to receive me as her accepted suitor. I
think he was very partial to me; at all events he
said he would not only raise no obstacle to my
wishes, but would gladly call me his son-in-law,
F2





68 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

provided my father gave his consent. So this
affair formed the second part of my letter.
But there was a third subject about which I had
to write. Marie was of a warm, generous, and
noble disposition, quick and vivacious, and keenly
alive to injustice and wrong. The misfortunes of
her friend affected her deeply, and she was never
weary of inveighing against those who had brought
them about. Not a few of the young men of
Pirmasens had gone into the army since the out-
break of the war with France; and Marie had more
than once told me, half in jest, half in earnest, that
she would never marry any one but a soldier. The
misfortunes of the Countess fanned this hot spirit
still more, and notwithstanding my quiet temper-
ament, our recent adventures and the ardour of
poor Marie tended alike to fire me with some of the
enthusiasm which had been aroused amongst the
youth of Germany by the wrongs of Louis XVI.
and Marie Antoinette.
With no particular career marked out for me, it
is not surprising that at such a crisis I should have
urged my father to assent to my entering the army
instead of idling away my time at home. This
important letter was duly sent off, and we all
awaited the reply with no little anxiety.
In the meanwhile the Countess took up her abode
under the roof of Martin Steinling, who lost no time
in endeavouring, if possible, to rescue some portion
of her father's property for her, but almost wholly





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 69
in vain. His estates of Ribeauville and Wildenstein,
all in Alsace, and partly situated close to my father's
property, were confiscated; the mansion in Paris
had already been plundered, one might almost say
sacked, when abandoned by the Countess, so that
some securities, yielding a miserable pittance of
about fifty pounds per annum, were all that could
be saved from the wreck. It was impossible not to
be struck by the sweet yet dignified calmness with
which the Countess received the intelligence of her
almost destitute condition. I think, indeed, that
the pleasure which she evinced on hearing that this
small modicum of income had been saved, arose
chiefly front the prospect it afforded her of either
retaining Peter Glotz in her service, or helping him
to set up in some business for himself.
At length my father's answer arrived. He began
by congratulating me heartily on my escape, speak-
ing very nicely about my promptitude in under-
taking a noble task. As for my engagement to
Marie, he did not exactly refuse to entertain the
idea, though he most certainly did not give it his
sanction. On the question of my entering the
army, however, he was much more decided, and
for two reasons opposed it strongly, at all events
for the present. First of all, my mother would not
hear of it, and said it would kill her. Secondly,
my father urged that such a step would be the ruin
of the family, as it would render it impossible for
him to keep on a good footing, as he had hitherto





70 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

contrived to do, with the French authorities at
home. He wound up his letter by saying that he
had been just on the point of writing to me to
request that I would make a short visit to England,
where he was most anxious that some one, who
took an interest in the matter, should look after a
legacy which, it was believed, had been left to my
mother by an English relative some years before.
He inclosed a remittance for my expenses, and a
letter of introduction to your good father, conclud-
ing with an expression of his wishes that I should
set out at once, or as soon as my wounded arm
would admit of it. On the whole I thought there
was reason to be satisfied with my father's letter,
as I had been afraid he would set his face alto-
gether against my being engaged to one who had
neither fortune nor high birth. Marie was, however,
by no means so contented, and, indeed, she was at
first so angry at my father's want of sympathy, as
she termed it, and at his refusal to let me enter
the army, that I had great difficulty in pacifying
her. She even went so far as to insinuate that the
journey to England was only a device to delay or
break off the engagement. Fortunately, Fraulein
von Wildenstein's good advice and tact came to
the rescue, and Marie was at last persuaded that
there was no proper course open to me but to' act
in accordance with my father's wishes.
I may here mention that I find in my diary a
note of part of one of the conversations I had with





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 71
theyoung Countess at this time. It showshow charm-
ingly she could adapt herself to the circumstances in
which she was placed, and with what sweetness and
condescension she could forget her noble birth, and
place at their ease all those around her. I had
hitherto addressed her as gnddiges Frdulein, which,
as I have told you, is the proper way of speaking
to a lady of her rank, but she now insisted on my
ceasing to use such ceremony, and would, I really
believe, have gone so far as to have me call her
"Adelaide," whilst she would have called me "Max."
This I really could not bring myself to allow, so we
agreed, half in jest I think, to address each other
as "CCousin Max" and Cousin Adelaide; and to
this custom we have ever since adhered, though, of
course, there is no real relationship between us.
The idea of a trip to England, with a well-filled
purse to insure the enjoyment of it, could hardly
be disagreeable to a young man of my age and
habits, and yet I did not set out without some
regrets and misgivings. Marie was, indeed, recon-
ciled to my going, but the proposed journey put a
stop for the present to my returning home to
Bouxweiller, where my mother was apparently in
very indifferent health. I was, moreover, anxious
about my father himself, for I could not help fear-
ing that the game he was playing with the French
authorities might, at any moment, be brought to a
sudden and disastrous end by an incautious act or
word, though my sister Dortchen's marriage, which





72 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

had recently taken place, afforded some security
against such a calamity. The way in which this
marriage came about was as follows :-
Dortehen, who was a couple of years younger
than myself, had been educated at Paris, where she
became very intimate during her school-days with
a certain Madame Brissot. This lady was a widow,
moving in the highest circles, and she grew so
much attached to Dortchen, that the latter usually
spent the greater part of her holidays with the old
lady. Madame Brissot had a son about thirty years
of age, a personal friend of the famous Mirabeau,
and a man much thought of amongst the liberal
party in the early days of the Revolution. Poor
Dortchen, as was the case with many other girls
and women in Paris, imbibed extravagant notions
about liberty and equality, and you may imagine
that this was a source of continual discomfort
whenever she came home, as she would persist in
arguing with my mother, who, as I have told you,
had a horror of anything like irreverence for
royalty and nobility. After Dortchen left school,
she frequently went to stay with Madame Brissot,
and every one was glad of it, for the sake of peace
at home. The end of it was that Dortchen was
united to M. Brissot just before my visit to the
Steinlings at Pirmasens. The marriage was dis-
tasteful enough both to my mother and myself;
nevertheless, now that I was leaving Germany for
England, I felt there was this advantage in it, that





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 73
in the event of any untoward changes at Bouxweiller
it might be of incalculable use to my father to have
M. Brissot for his son-in-law.
It is not my purpose to dwell at all on my resi-
dence in England, beyond recording the happy
commencement of my long friendship with your
good father, and the fact that nothing came of the
legacy affair which had been the cause of my visit.
It was not, however, until the end of January,
1793, that it became certain that any prolongation
of my stay would be useless. Then came the tidings
that Louis XVI. had died by the guillotine, filling
all Europe with horror, indignation, and alarm.
For the first time, I think, my father forgot all his
habitual caution in writing to me, and gave vent
to his real feelings, stigmatizing the act with the
strongest expressions of abhorrence, and owning to
me that in all he did, he ever looked forward to the
day when the right should have the upper hand
once more, and he might be able to own his true
sentiments without the dread of that utter ruin
which, under existing circumstances, such an
avowal must bring upon himself and all he loved.
"Yes; my dear Max," he added, "and that day
is not far distant; the judgment of Heaven will
assuredly soon overtake these miscreants. This
crowning act of atrocity will rouse every heart that
has hitherto been unmoved, and, mark my words
before another year has passed the German hosts
will enter France as its liberators rather than its





74 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

conquerors. For many reasons, too, I foresee
that their road will be through our own dear old
Alsace, and instead of our being Germans here on
sufferance, as we have been since the Treaty of
Westphalia, Alsace itself will be no longer French,
but German."
As I read this prophecy, the words of Jacques
the tile-burner rose vividly to my recollection,
and I felt convinced that a successful invasion
of Alsace could not be very far distant. I confess,
however, that I was not without some misgivings,
that the way in which my father had temporized
with the French authorities might place him in an
awkward dilemma with another set of masters; but
he seemed to have no apprehensions on that point.
He said he could show sufficient proofs of his
loyalty when the occasion should arise. In the
meanwhile he told me that he would no longer
oppose my entering the army on my return to
Germany. There was a postscript to the letter,
telling me that my mother was seriously ill, and
desiring me to come home with the least possible
delay; accordingly I set out at once, and travelling
night and day, soon arrived at Bouxweiller.
I did indeed find my mother in a very dangerous
state; she rallied for a time, and we entertained
hopes of her recovery; but it was not to be so : in
the course of a few weeks she died, I verily believe
of a broken heart. Dortchen's marriage to a
French republican had been a great shock; and





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 75
the execution of Louis XVI. and the triumph of
anarchy in France gave her the death-blow.
My mother's death occurred at the end of
February, 1793; and for a time my father would
not let me go away from Bouxweiller; indeed I
could have had no wish to leave him in the utterly
lonely condition in which he now found himself
placed by the loss of my mother. He frequently
spoke to me about Fraulein von Wildenstein, and
more than once I think he hinted at the satisfaction
it would have given him, if he had found that there
was an attachment between us. On this point I
spoke out very plainly, telling him that my affec-
tion for Marie Steinling was unaltered, and that
even if that were not so, I should not dream of
asking a countess to marry me, adding that, after
what he had formerly said about the desirableness of
a dowry, I could hardly imagine that he would
approve even of a countess without a penny. He
made some remark as to the possibility that she
might prove better off than Marie Steinling some
day, but he did not press the subject further.
Not long after this a rumour went abroad that
I had used some very strong language in reference
to the French authorities at Saverne, the nearest
large town to Bouxweiller, and my father thought
it best that I should leave the place for a time; and
in consequence of the successful operations of the
allies in the neighbourhood of the Rhine, he at last
gave his consent to my entering the Hessian ser-





7 MTWO CAMPAIGNS:

vice, for which purpose I shortly afterwards pro-
ceeded to Darmstadt, the capital of Hesse, to join
the Landgrave's little army.
My father accompanied me to the coach-office on
the morning of my departure, and on our way
thither I told him frankly that it was my intention
to visit Pirmasens on my road. He made no objec-
tion to this; on the contrary, he seemed rather
pleased than otherwise. Then, after apparently
turning something over in his mind for a short
time, he said to me, My dear Max, there is one
thing more
which I wish
to tell you
before you
go. In these
critical times M M
we cannot
say what may


and I may DARMSTADT.
never meet again, and I should be sorry to let you
think hereafter that I have needlessly concealed
anything from you. I have just obtained a grant
from the French authorities (or at least the thing is
as good as settled) of some confiscated estates
adjacent to my own lands. Of course it is through
Brissot's influence that they have been allotted to
me, and equally of course, they are supposed to be





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 77

in consideration of my adherence to the new order of
things, and the services, past, present, and prospec-
tive, supposed to be rendered by me to the powers
that be."
I daresay my countenance gave some indication
of my sentiments at this moment, for my father laid
his hand on my arm, as if deprecating any hasty
expression on my part, and continued thus :-
"Hear me out, my dear Max, before you judge
me. To have set myself up as an out-and-out
German from the commencement of these troubles,
could have had only one result: like thousands of
others, we should have been at this moment wan-
derers and beggars in some foreign land, and the'
good acres which I hope you will one day enjoy in
peace would have been confiscated, and conferred
on some one more patient and less rash, just as the-
estates I am speaking of are now coming into my
possession. Max, I know that I can trust you. I
have always looked forward, and now do so more&
confidently than ever, to a good time coming..
Perhaps it was in my nature to find a secret satis-
faction in playing a game whilst others flung up the
cards in despair; some men play for the sake of the
excitement; it is a poor and sordid spirit that plays
only for the stakes."
"' You seem, however, to have won them also,"
said I. "I hope and trust that the game may yet
end as you expect."
It must infallibly do so, my dear Max,' replied





78 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

my father. "I must now inform you, the estates
in question are none others than those of the
Lindenfels family, our old neighbours, together
with some of the Ribeauville lands formerly owned
by Count Wildenstein."
I started with surprise, as I well might. Good
heavens," said I, what will they think of you ?
"' Ah what indeed ? replied my father quietly;
"' not that it ought to matter one jot to them who
gets their lands, now that they have utterly lost
them; indeed they ought to be glad, rather than
sorry, that an old neighbour is the better for them."
"The young Countess Wildenstein is noble-
hearted enough to think thus, sir," I rejoined, I am
afraid with evident vexation; but the Lindenfels
family are hardly likely to look at the matter in
that way, nor will the world in general think the
better of you for it."
"C I care little about that, Max," said my father.
" To follow out the simile of the game of cards, I do
not mind my opponents' thinking I am a bad player,
so long as I can come down upon them at last
with a handful of trumps. But, Max, do you happen
to remember what I did with my winnings, when
old Schneider used to come and have his game at
whist at our house years ago ? "
Oh yes, I recollect that you invariably divided
them between Dortchen and me. We used to
wonder why you never kept them yourself."
I played for the game, Max, not for the stakes,





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 79

and that is exactly what I have now done as regards
these lands; Max, my dear Max, do you think so ill
of me as to believe that I have plotted only to
enrich myself with the fortunes of the exile and the
orphan ? I will show you that I think better of
you, and that I give you credit for a wish to help
me in carrying out my object in all this, and for
being satisfied with the ample fortune that was
already mine without these windfalls which have
cost me nothing. My purpose in now speaking to
you is to tell you that by a will which I have just
made, I have restored to young Otto von Lindenfels
and to your friend the Countess of Wildenstein all
the lands now acquired by me, which formerly
belonged to their fathers. If, as I hope, the C good
time' comes before I die, I shall carry out this
intention myself; if not, remember that I charge
you, as you value your father's good name, to fulfil
my wishes to the letter. Yet one thing more : you
cannot but perceive that at the present time, it
would be ruinous to us and them alike, if the
slightest breath of what I have just told you should
get abroad. I therefore lay on you the strictest
and most positive injunction, to keep what I have
told you an inviolable secret between me and you.
See, here we are at the coach-office, and without a
moment to spare; the postilion is already in the
saddle. God bless you, my dear Max."
I was so surprised at this most unexpected com-
munication from my father, that I could find no





80 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

words for a reply beyond a brief assurance that I
should consider it a sacred duty to carry out his
wishes. He then grasped my hand, and we parted.
Marie and I had not met for many months, but
her letters to me in the mean time had been all
that I could wish. Judge, then, of my amazement
when, on arriving at Martin Steinling's house, I
was received with a coldness and reserve such as
an utter stranger could hardly have expected to
encounter. It was soon apparent that rumour,
with her hundred tongues, had already informed
them all of my father's having obtained a grant of
the Lindenfels and Wildenstein estates from the
French government. The Countess was evidently
distressed, but was calm and taciturn.
Marie, on the contrary, gave full vent to her
anger, and demanded that I should at once con-
tradict the report, or at least declare openly that I
was no party to such a transaction, and should dis-
own a father who could thus basely enrich himself
by the ruin of old friends and compatriots. What
could I say? My father's injunctions sealed up
my lips, whilst the secret knowledge of his noble
disinterestedness made me repel with indignation
the charge made against him. Of course I could
only do so in vague terms, for I could not deny
the facts; and in the midst of this unpleasant
scene the servant announced a visitor, at the
same time ushering in young Otto von Linden-
fels, the son of the very man whose confiscated





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 81

property my father had obtained. Otto had been
an old schoolfellow and playmate of mine, and I
thought there was just a chance that our old friend-
ship might outweigh any rumours he might have
heard. I was mistaken: he not only refused my
proffered hand and turned his back upon me, but
soon afterwards spoke of my father in so insulting
a manner that I could no longer command myself,
and I believe I told him that if he repeated such
a remark, I would pitch him out of the window.
On this he took his leave, and poor Marie fainted
away from the excitement caused by the scene.
Of course a challenge from young Lindenfels was
the consequence. He had entered the army a
short time previously, and had no option but to
call me out, even if he had wished to avoid it,
I find by my diary that I did not see Marie
again on the occasion of that visit, but I had a
conversation with Fraulein Wildenstein before I
left the house. She was terrified at the thought
of the duel between me and Lindenfels, which
seemed quite inevitable; but she was even more
bewildered when I told her that I should not fight
him, such a refusal being unheard of in those days.
Yet when I told her that I could not find either in
the law of God or in the law of the Fatherland
any name for deliberately killing a fellow-creature
except murder,-that I was not going either to
commit it or to help another to do so merely
because he chose to forget his manners,-and that
G






82 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

I held real cowardice to consist in doing wrong
from a slavish fear of the world's opinion, she
heartily approved of my intention. Still she de-
plored my having to bear such a trial for the sake
of a father who seemed so little to deserve it:
whereupon I told her that I, who knew all the
circumstances better than she or any one else could
do, was perfectly satisfied with my father's conduct
in the matter and would stand by him even if
every one were against me. Cousin Max," she
exclaimed with energy, though all the world should
be against you, I at least will believe in you; and
with these words she hastily left me in order to
look after poor Marie.
When Captain Stechmann called on me that
afternoon on behalf of young Lindenfels, I aston-
ished him not a little by refusing to fight. He
first stared at me in blank amazement, and com-
menced enumerating the consequences of such an
unheard-of proceeding, when, as it happened, the
firebell began to sound, the drums were heard in
the streets beating to quarters, and the captain
was obliged to hurry off, saying that he would call
again on the morrow and give me another chance,
"for the sake of my family."
I, too, went to the fire, and coming upon Lin-
denfels, who was there on duty, just as a couple
of children were seen at an upper window of the
burning house, I tapped him on the shoulder and
hinted that we might prove our courage there





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 83
better than by shooting each other through the
head. He followed me at once, and we were
fortunate enough to save the children; however,
Lindenfels did not escape without some injuries,
which for a time at least put any renewal of his
challenge out of the question. I left Pirmasens
on the following day, and proceeding to Darm-
stadt, duly entered the Grand Duke's service as a
private in an infantry regiment. This, as you pro-
bably know, is always the case in the military
services of almost all countries except England.
I remained in Darmstadt until late in the summer
of that year 1793, during which I became a corporal.
No event of any moment occurred so far as I re-
collect, except that shortly after leaving Pirmasens,
I received the following letter from Lindenfels :-
SI,-I have heard from Captain Stechmann
with no small surprise that you seemed inclined to
refuse me the satisfaction which I requested him to
demand. Owing to the sudden interruption of your
interview, however, he was in some doubt about
the matter, and for your sake I shall be glad to find
that he was mistaken. The state of my health
prevents me from carrying out this affair at present,
but you will understand that whenever an opportu-
nity may occur I shall expect from you the usual
reparation for the insult offered to me.
Yours to command,
"' OTTO VON LINDENFELS."
G 2






81 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

We are now coming to the famous campaign of
1793, when the Germans entered France. It was
an eventful year for me, perhaps the most eventful
of my whole life,-but of that you shall judge for
yourself.
It will save time, and obviate the necessity of
digressions hereafter, if I begin by giving you, in
a few words, a, sketch of the relative positions of
the places memorable for the chief events in this
portion of my life. I will make it as brief as
possible, and then go on with my story.
Alsace, which as you know is situated in the
extreme east of France and abuts on Germany, is
a long narrow province bordered on the east by
the Rhine, which flows along the whole side of
it; the western side is bounded by spurs of the
Vosges mountains. The northern boundary is a
short range of hills, stretching from the Vosges
to the Rhine, about the centre of which is
Wissembourg, and along this range runs the
frontier line between France and Germany.
About thirty miles north of Wissembourg is
Pirmasens, in the Lpwer Palatinate, belonging to
Bavaria; and considerably further to the north is
the strong fortress of Mayence, on the Rhine. To
the southward of Wissembourg, and in Alsace, is
this our good little town of Bouxweiller, with the
adjacent towns of Saverne, Haguenau, Pfalzbourg,
&c. ; and still further south, on the Rhine, is the
fortified town of Strasbourg.





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 85
This little scrap of geography will, I hope,
enable you to understand perfectly what befell me
during the six months subsequent to myjoining
the Hessian army.
On the 1st of July, 1793, the allies recaptured
Mayence, which had been taken by the French
in the previous year. This was a most important
success. Mayence was defensively the key to
















MAYENCE.
Northern Germany, whilst offensively it formed a
desirable base for any operations against the
French frontier, whether the line of invasion were
to be westwards towards Metz, or southwards
towards Wissembourg, and thence into Alsace. It
was soon evident that the latter would be the
direction in which an attack from the allies was to






86 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

be apprehended, and the French set to work
vigorously to fortify the lines of Wissembourg.
The allies, however, seemed as idle as their enemy
was active: two months and a half passed by,
and though the Germans did move southwards,
they had by the middle of September advanced no
further than Pirmasens. Here they were attacked
by General Moreau, but the attempt was a failure,
and Moreau was beaten, with a loss of some 4,000
men and a score of guns. Still the same want of
energy and activity marked the movements of the
German army, and it was not until the 23rd of
October that the allies assaulted the lines of
Wissembourg, which the French had been fortify-
ing for the last four months.
The fact was that there was division and discord
in the German councils. Prussia saw that the
-conquest of Alsace would be all to the advantage
of Austria, and the Prussian king was far more
intent on the plans which he and the Czar had
concerted for the final dismemberment of Poland
than on the German campaign. In a very few
weeks this dissension brought about the most
ruinous disasters.
We Hessians were not with the army that fought
at Pirmasens, though we joined before the attack
at Wissembourg.
In the meanwhile I was in no slight anxiety
about the Steinlings, as the war was actually
at their very doors, and I had good reason to be





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 87
disquieted, for on passing through Pirmasens at
the end of September, I found to my consternation
that old Martin Steinling had been accidentally
killed on the 14th,-the day of the battle there.
It seems that in his eagerness to learn the result
of the fight, he had gone out, notwithstanding
the entreaties of his wife, and had unfortunately
proceeded in a direction which, although perfectly
safe at first, subsequently proved to be the line in
which a French column was compelled to retreat.
A stray ball from a German battery struck him
down: it was a spent shot, and the doctors had
at first thought that he was not seriously injured,
but he had nevertheless died a few days after-
wards.
The grief of poor Marie and her mother was
most pitiable : they seemed utterly prostrated by it;
and if it had not been for the calm and thoughtful
affection of the young Countess, I really do not
know what they would have done in this trying
crisis. Fortunately Peter Glotz was there, and
also a faithful old female domestic; so they had
some kind of protection, which I was very glad
of, for my duty of course called me away at
once, and I could spend little more than half an
hour with them. Madame Steinling had a brother
named Nicholas Bengel, a miserly old fellow,
who lived at Darmstadt, and I learned from
Fraulein Wildenstein that Martin Steinling had
arranged before he died that they should all re-






88 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

move to that place as soon as possible. I kissed
Marie,-it was the last time,-and told her I could
not stay; but she threw her arms round my
neck and clung to me, passionately entreating me
not to leave her. It was a bitter parting, but
there was no help for it. I could hardly speak,
but I said something about our soon beating the
French, and told her I would come back, and we
should yet be happy. After this her mind almost
seemed to wander; she reproached herself with
being undeserving of so true-hearted an affection
as mine, and again implored me not to leave her,
as she could not trust herself. Then, as she turned
away from me and covered her face with her hands,
I stole out of the room. Fraiulein Wildenstein
was at my side when I reached the foot of the
stairs.
Has Martin provided for them ?" I asked.
"There is very little, I am afraid," she said;
" and I believe it is left in trust to his brother-
in-law, Herr Bengel, for their benefit."
"I cannot quit the service at such a moment,"
said I. I am sure you must see that."
I quite understand it, at all events at present;
but as soon as you can, I hope and trust that you
will."
The campaign will be short and decisive," said
I. "The enemy have no chance, and in a week
Alsace will be ours. In a few weeks more, if
Heaven spares me, when I see my father at Boux-





A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 89
weiller, I will do everything needful for you all; and
by Christmas, or even sooner, the campaign will be
over. I can then obtain my discharge, and come to
you. You will remain with poor Marie, will you not ?
Promise me that you will not leave her-for my
sake."
She was much affected: the first tears I had seen
her shed that day came rolling down her cheeks, as
she answered, For your sake, Cousin Max, I will
stay with her and be her true friend, until she shall
no longer need it."
I grasped her hand: it was as cold as ice; and no
wonder, for she too had much trouble in her heart;
but the roll of the drums called me away, and I was
soon once more on the march.
I believe the lines at Wissembourg were supposed
to be almost impregnable by this time; but, for all
that, we forced them. Prince Waldeck, indeed,
who commanded our left wing, was beaten back at
the end of the lines adjoining the Rhine; but the
Duke of Brunswick, at the head of the Prussians,
made his way through the passes of the Vosges;
whilst in the centre, Wurmser, our generalissimo,
took the redoubts near Wissembourg, and the day
was ours. The French came off uncommonly well,
considering all things, for they lost only about a
thousand men; but the gate had been forced open,
and the Germans entered France.
This was my first battle; but I can tell you very
little about it, for I was hardly in it at all. As for





90 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

the famous lines, I suppose they were like others of
the same kind. Any one but an experienced soldier
might ride or walk about them all day, and never be
a bit the wiser, or find out that he was actually in the
midst of a pet military position. Once indeed we had
to advance, in order to dislodge a regiment of the
enemy that was strongly posted on a ridge with
some broken ground in front. I was out with the
skirmishers, and it was hot work for a short time.
At last a couple of guns which the enemy brought
up compelled us to fall back on our supports. As I
was retiring, I noticed that young Lindenfels (who
had rejoined the regiment that morning, as I should
have told you) stopped suddenly, and then reeled
and fell. He had been struck by a grape-shot. I
sprang back, and got him away, I scarcely know
how; but he was so badly hurt that he was carried
at once to the rear, and I saw no more of him for
a long time.
Great were the rejoicings over our victory that
day; but it led to nothing. In fact, I may sum up
the rest of the campaign in a few words. After the
battle of Wissembourg we relapsed into the old
inactivity, the jealousy at head-quarters increasing
every day. A month passed away, and we had not
advanced beyond Saverne and this neighbourhood.
The authorities of Strasbourg offered to surrender
it to Wurmser on behalf of Louis XVII, but he
declined to take it on those terms,-a pretty clear
proof, I think, that Austria wanted to conquer






A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 91
Alsace, not for the French king, but for the Ger-
man Empire. So the Republicans soon took heart :
a monster named Bandet was sent to sweep the
province clear, whilst two large army corps under
Hoche and Pichegru menaced our flank and rear,
and Wurmser began to retreat. On the 26th
December we were attacked and beaten at Geisberg,
close to Wissembourg, the scene of our late victory ;
and on the 30th, before the year was out, the allies
retreated across the Rhine at Philipsbourg, routed,
and in utter confusion.
So much for the campaign : but how fared it with
me, you will ask ? You shall hear. Amidst the
general rejoicing after Wissembourg, you may
imagine how delighted my father was when I shook
hands with him once more, there in that very house
yonder. Yes, all that he had depicted had come to
pass: Alsace-our beloved Alsace-was reconquered
by Germany, and old Moritz Roggenfeld, he said,
had played his game just as if he had picked out
the cards for himself. Alas the game was not yet
over. My father's hospitality was unbounded: a
general officer who was quartered on him declared
there never was so liberal a host, and everybody,
common soldiers and all, ate and drank at his house
to their hearts' content. As he had told me, he had
plenty of evidence to show that his subservience to
the French was only a mask, and that he had always
looked to the good time coming."
My father, however, was a very shrewd man-





92 TWO CAMPAIGNS:

much too shrewd not to see, in the course of a very
short time, that there was danger ahead. One day,
when the supply of champagne came to an end,
about a week after our arrival, the general made
some slight remark, to which my father drily re-
plied: There is plenty more in France, general.
Don't you think the best way would be to march
on and get hold of it ? If you stay here too long,
the French will not only drink it up, but come and
break our heads with the empty bottles."
The general, who was one of the C Marshal
Forwards" sort, only shrugged his shoulders,
saying, "It took us twenty weeks to get here
from Mayence, my good friend; but when we
go back, we shall make up for lost time and do
it in one." My father told me this anecdote him-
self.
Well, sure enough, the news came that the French
were straining every nerve to retake the province,
and that Hoche and Pichegru would soon be
upon us. Then came the rumour that we should
have to fall back,-and at last the order came.
Though I had had several opportunities of seeing my
father, my regiment lay at a considerable distance
from Bouxweiller, and, as it happened, was one of
the last that remained in the neighbourhood. In-
deed, we did not begin to retire until some detach-
ments of Bandet's corps were very close upon us.
I knew that my father had made preparations for
leaving Bouxweiller, and effecting his escape under






A TALE OF OLD ALSACE. 93

cover of our retreating army; but calculations of
this kind are not easy to make with any exactness;
and at the last moment, therefore, I was not a
little uneasy, for I had not seen my father for two
or three days, and was afraid that he might put off
his flight until too late.
It was on a bitterly cold afternoon, early in
December, when my regiment, under orders to
retreat, halted at a spot at about two miles from
here. Our march had been not a little impeded at
times by the number of fugitives on foot and in
vehicles of all kinds along the road; there seemed
to be a general panic, and it was not by any means
groundless. The relentless Bandet was reported to
have promised that a hundred thousand heads-or
a million, if he could get them-should pay for the
favour shown by the people of Alsace to the Ger-
man invaders, and he had already begun to carry
out his sanguinary threats, that he would put to
death not only those who had harboured the enemy,
but even those who had remained in the villages
occupied by us. No wonder that hundreds were
leaving their homes, and seeking safety by accom-
panying the retiring Germans on their march,
abandoning all they possessed for dear life's sake.
No wonder, either, you will admit, that I should
become intensely anxious about my father, who, in
the full belief that the allies would fulfil the pro-
mise apparently held out by their advance into
Alsace, had made no secret of his real sentiments,





94 TWO CAMPAIGNS :

and had committed himself beyond all hope of
avoiding the vengeance of those who were once
more about to have the upper hand. Rumours, too,
came in, that flying detachments had been pushed
forward by the enemy at no very great distance in
our rear; and at last, unable to control my anxiety,
I frankly asked my captain (with whom I was
rather a favourite) to let me run down to my father's
house during the halt, in order to warn him, if
necessary, or, at least, to satisfy myself that he was
on the alert.
Are you mad, my good fellow ?" was Captain
Schulze's reply. "It can't be done; it might cost
me my epaulettes to do such a thing just now."
At this moment our colonel rode up. He was a
kind-hearted man, and I think he also liked me for
that business of bringing Otto Lindenfels away
from under fire at Wissembourg. I heard him
make some remark about the people trying to
escape from the French, and in reply the captain
told him of my request.
Roggenfeld-Roggenfeld," said he, considering
for a moment. Yes; I remember he behaved
very well to us." He then turned to me and said,
"Corporal, take your musket and go down to
Moritz Roggenfeld's house, and warn him that the
French are at hand. Look sharp! we march in
half an hour."
I think that, in spite of the numbers on the road,
I did those two miles more quickly than I had ever





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