第 3 页

excitement, and anticipation. The troops quartered at Dijon moved

forward at once; and scarcely an hour passed but long trains,

filled with soldiers from Lyons and the South, were on their way up

towards Metz. The people of Dijon spent half their time in and

around the station. The platform was kept clear; but bands of

ladies relieved each other every few hours, and handed soup, bread,

fruit, and wine to the soldiers as they passed through. Each

crowded train was greeted, as it approached the station, with

cheers and waving of handkerchiefs; to which the troops as heartily

responded. Most of the trains were decorated with boughs, and

presented a gay appearance as, filled with the little line men, the

sunburned Zouaves, swarthy Turcos, gay hussars, or sober

artillerymen, they wound slowly into the town.

Some of the trains were less gay, but were not less significant of

war. Long lines of wagons, filled with cannon; open trucks with the

deadly shell--arranged side by side, point upwards, and looking

more like eggs in a basket than deadly missiles--came and went.

There, too, were long trains of pontoons for forming bridges while,

every half hour, long lines of wagons filled with biscuits, barrels

of wine, sacks of coffee, and cases of stores of all sorts and

kinds passed through.

The enthusiasm of Dijon, at the sight of this moving panorama of

war, rose to fever heat. The sound of the Marseillaise resounded

from morning to night. Victory was looked upon as certain, and the

only subject of debate was as to the terms which victorious France

would impose upon conquered Prussia. The only impatience felt was

for the news of the first victory.

Captain Barclay sent down several casks of wine, for the use of the

passing troops; and his wife went down, each day, to assist at the

distribution. In the evening she and Milly scraped old rags, to

make lint for the wounded. The Lycee was still closed--as it was

found impossible to get the boys to attend to their studies--and

Ralph and Percy spent their time in watching the trains go past,

and in shouting themselves hoarse.

Captain Barclay did not share in the general enthusiasm and, each

morning at breakfast, he looked more and more grave as, upon

opening the papers, he found there was still no news of the

commencement of hostilities.

"What difference does it make, papa?" Ralph asked, one day; "we are

sending fresh troops up, every hour, and I do not see how a few

days' delay can be any disadvantage to us."

"It makes all the difference, Ralph, all the difference in the

world. We had a considerably larger standing army than the

Prussians, and had the advantage that the main body of our troops

were very much nearer to the frontier than those of the Prussians.

If things had been ready, we ought to have marched two hundred

thousand men into Germany, three or four days--at latest--after the

declaration of war. The Germans could have had no force capable of

resisting them. We should have had the prestige of a first

success--no slight thing with a French army--and we should also

have had the great and solid advantage of fighting in an enemy's

country, instead of upon our own.

"The German reserves are far greater than our own. We know how

perfect their organization is, and every hour of delay is an

immense advantage to them. It is quite likely now that, instead of

the French invading Germany, it will be the Prussians who will

invade France."

The boys were but little affected by their father's forebodings. It

was scarcely possible to suppose that everyone could be wrong;

still more impossible to believe that those great hosts which they

saw passing, so full of high hope and eager courage, could be

beaten. They were, however, very glad to sit round the table of an

evening, while Captain Barclay opened a great map on the table,

explained the strength of the various positions, and the

probability of this or that line of attack being selected by one or

the other army.

Day after day went by until, on the 2nd of August, the news came at

last. The first blow had been struck, the first blood shed--the

French had taken Saarbruck.

"It is too late," Captain Barclay said, as Ralph and Percy rushed

in, to say that the news was posted up at the Prefecture. "It is

too late, boys. The English papers, of this morning, have brought

us the news that the Germans are massing at least seven or eight

hundred thousand men, along the line from Saar Louis to Spiers. It

is evident that they fell back from Saarbruck without any serious

resistance. In another two or three days they will be in readiness

and, as they must far outnumber our men, you will see that the

advantage at Saarbruck will not be followed up, and that the

Prussians will assume the offensive."

"Then what do you really think will be the result, papa?"

"I think, Ralph, that we shall be forced to do what--not having, at

once, taken the offensive--we ought to have done from the first. We

shall have to fall back, to abandon the line of frontier--which is

altogether indefensible--and to hold the line of the Moselle, and

the spurs of the Vosges; an immensely strong position, and which we

ought to be able to hold against all the efforts of Prussia."

The exultation of Dijon was but short lived for, on the 5th, the

boys came up in the afternoon, from the town, with very serious

faces.

"What is the matter, Ralph?"

"There is a rumor in the town, papa, that the Swiss papers have

published an account of the capture of Weissenburg, by the

Prussians. A great many French are said to be prisoners. Do you

think it can be true?"

"It is probable, at any rate, Ralph. The Swiss papers would, of

course, get the news an hour or so after it is known in Germany. We

must not begin by believing all that the telegram says, because

both sides are certain to claim victories; still, the absolute

capture of a town is a matter upon which there can be no dispute,

and is therefore likely enough to be true. We know the Prussians

were massed all along that line and, as I expected, they have taken

the offensive. Their chances of success in so doing were evident;

as neither party know where the others are preparing to strike a

blow, and each can therefore concentrate, and strike with an

overwhelming force at any given point.

"Now that the Germans have made the first move, and shown their

intention, both parties will concentrate in that direction. You

see, from Weissenburg the Germans can either march south upon

Strasburg, or southwest upon Metz or Nancy; but to reach this

latter place they will have to cross the spurs of the Vosges. The

French will, of course, try to bar their further advance. We may

expect a great battle, in a day or two."

The news came but too soon for--two days later--Dijon, as well as

all France, stood aghast at the news of the utter rout of

MacMahon's division, after the desperately contested battle of

Woerth; and the not less decided, though less disastrous, defeats

of the French left, at Forbach, by the troops of Steinmetz. Some

little consolation was, however, gleaned by the fact that the

French had been beaten in detail; and had shown the utmost

gallantry, against greatly superior numbers. They would now, no

doubt, fall back behind the Moselle; and hold that line, and the

position of the Vosges, until fresh troops could come up, and a

great battle be fought upon more even terms.

Fresh levies were everywhere ordered, and a deep and general

feeling of rage prevailed. No one thought of blaming the troops--it

was evident that they had done their best; the fault lay with the

generals, and with the organization.

Captain Barclay pointed out, to the boys, that the officers and men

were somewhat to blame, also; for the utter confusion which

prevailed among MacMahon's troops, in their retreat, showed that

the whole regimental system was faulty; and that there could have

been no real discipline, whatever, or the shattered regiments would

have rallied, a few miles from the field of battle.

In Dijon, the change during the last fortnight was marvelous The

war spirit was higher than ever. Cost what it might, this disgrace

must be wiped out. The Mobiles were hard at work, drilling. The

soldiers who had long left the army were starting, by every train,

to the depots. The sound of the Marseillaise rang through the

streets, night and day. The chorus, "To arms," gained a fresh

meaning and power and, in spite of these first defeats, none

dreamed of final defeat.

Every day, however, the news became worse. Strasburg was cut off;

and the Prussians marched unopposed across the spurs of the Vosges,

where a mere handful of men might have checked them.

"Boys, there are terrible days in store, for France," Captain

Barclay said, when the news came that the enemy had entered Nancy.

"The line of the Moselle is turned. Bazaine will be cut off, unless

he hurries his retreat; and then nothing can stop the Prussians

from marching to Paris."

The boys sat speechless at this terrible assurance.

"Surely it cannot be as bad as that," Mrs. Barclay said. "Frenchmen

cannot have lost all their old qualities; and all France will rise,

like one man, to march to the defense of Paris."

"Raw levies will be of no use, whatever, against the Prussian

troops, flushed with victory," Captain Barclay said; "even if they

were armed--and where are the arms, for a levy en masse, to come

from? If Bazaine be beaten, the only hope of France is for all the

troops who remain to fall back under the guns of the forts of

Paris; and for France to enter upon an immense guerrilla war. For

hosts of skirmishers to hang upon their flanks and rear; cutting

every road, destroying every bridge, checking the movements of

every detached body, and so actually starving them out, on the

ground which they occupy.

"This, however, will demand an immense amount of pluck, of

endurance, of perseverance, of sacrifice, and of patriotism. The

question is, does France possess these qualities?"

"Surely, Richard, you cannot doubt the patriotism of the French,"

Mrs. Barclay said, a little reproachfully.

"My dear Melanie," her husband said, "I am sorry to say that I very

greatly doubt the patriotism of the French. They are--more than any

people, more even than the English, whom they laugh at as a nation

of shopkeepers--a money-making race. The bourgeoise class, the

shopkeepers, the small proprietors, are selfish in the extreme.

They think only of their money, their business, and their comforts.

The lower class are perhaps better, but their first thoughts will

be how the war will affect themselves and, unless there is some

chance of the enemy approaching their homes, driving off their

cattle, and plundering their cottages, they will look on with a

very calm eye at the general ruin.

"I believe, remember, that those who will be called out will go

and, if affairs go as I fear that they will do, every man under

fifty years old in France will have to go out; but it is not enough

to go out. For a war like this, it will require desperate courage

and endurance, and an absolute disregard of life; to counterbalance

the disadvantages of want of discipline, want of arms, want of

artillery, and want of organization I may be wrong--I hope that I

am so--but time will show."

"And do you think that there is any chance of their coming down

here, as well as of going to Paris, papa?" Percy asked.

"That would depend upon the length of the resistance, Percy. If

France holds out, and refuses to grant any terms which the

Prussians might try to impose upon them, they may overrun half the

country and, as this town is directly upon their way for Lyons--the

second town of France--they are exceedingly likely to come this

way."

"Well, if they do, papa," Ralph said, with heightened color, "I

feel sure that every man who can carry a gun will go out, and that

every home will be defended."

"We shall see, Ralph," Captain Barclay said, "we shall see."

Another pause, and then came the news of that terrible three days'

fighting--on the 14th, 16th, and 18th--near Metz; when Bazaine, his

retreat towards Paris cut off, vainly tried to force his way

through the Prussian army and, failing, fell back into Metz. Even

now, when the position was well-nigh desperate--with the only great

army remaining shut up and surrounded; and with nothing save the

fragment of MacMahon's division, with a few other regiments,

collected in haste, and the new levies, encamped at Chalons,

between the victorious enemy and the capital--the people of France

were scarcely awake to the urgency of the position. The Government

concealed at least a portion of the truth, and the people were only

too ready to be deceived.

In Dijon, however, the facts were better known, and more

understood. The Swiss newspapers, containing the Prussian official

telegrams and accounts, arrived daily; and those who received them

speedily spread the news through the town. The consternation was

great, and general, but there was no sign of despair. Those of the

Mobiles who were armed and equipped were sent off, at once, to

Chalons. At every corner of the street were placards, calling out

the Mobiles and soldiers who had served their time; and, although

not yet called to arms, the national guard drilled in the Place

d'Armes, morning and evening.

"You will allow, Richard, that you were mistaken as to the

patriotism of the people," Mrs. Barclay said, one evening, to her

husband. "Everyone is rushing to arms."

"They are coming out better than I had expected, Melanie; but at

the same time, you will observe that they have no choice in the

matter. The Mobiles are called out, and have to go. All who can

raise the most frivolous pretext for exemption do so. There is a