Chapter X: To the Rhine!

'To Paris! To Paris! Hoch Germania!'

Such were the cries that rang along the line of march, when on the 1st of August the various columns of the German army began to meet those which left Paris shouting 'To Berlin!'

After detailing much that savours of what may seem romance, we have now to borrow a paragraph or two from the history of Europe.

Perfect in organization, the forces which the Prussian Government were able to bring to the frontier a few days after the declaration of war against France were divided into three great armies, making a grand total of four hundred and twelve thousand infantry, and forty-seven thousand eight hundred cavalry, with one thousand four hundred and forty pieces of cannon.

The first of these three armies was commanded by Major General Steinmetz, the second by Prince Frederick Charles, and the third by the Crown Prince--the whole being under the orders of the King of Prussia, assisted by General Count Von Moltke, a distinguished Dane, as chief of his staff.

Strong reserves were posted at Hainau, Frankfort, at the old electoral city of Mayence, and amidst the vast defences of Coblentz between the Rhine and the Moselle. Another army defended the north, under Von Falkenstein; so taken altogether, including the Landwehr, Prussia, with her million and a quarter of well-drilled soldiery, seemed impregnable.

Charlie Pierrepont's regiment was formed in brigade with the 7th, or King's Grenadiers, and the 37th, or Westphalians. The war establishment of a Prussian regiment is never less than 3,006 men, with 69 officers. His brigade was among the first troops actively employed, with orders to occupy the line of the Saar, resting its right on Saarbrück, with advanced posts at that place and in the schloss of the Princes of Nassau, at Saarlouis, which had been fortified by Vauban, at Bliescastle, where the Prussians and French fought a great battle in 1793, and at Merzig.

The second army, with the royal headquarters, crossed the Rhine at Mayence, and took a position on the left of General Steinmetz, occupied Zweibrucken (which the French had named Deux Ponts), and Pirmasens, with its main body echeloned along the line of railway from the ruined castle of the Counts of Sickingen at Landstuhl to the strong fortress of Landau.

The third army came on by the way of Mannheim and Germesheim, and formed to the left of the second, at the latter place, Speirs, Neustadt, and Landau. All these formidable columns could communicate with each other by railway, and were well secured in the rear in case of having to retreat. But no thought of retreating was in the Prussian ranks.

From the suddenness and efficiency of these arrangements, it was clear 'that Count Bismarck and his master had been long and actively preparing for war, and had not been entirely absorbed in peaceful and innocent designs, as we were constantly assured by certain writers in this country, who desired to present France to the world as a crafty and ravening wolf, and Prussia a meek and inoffensive lamb.'

Something of this kind was said by Heinrich to Charlie, as their brigade approached Saarbrück. But the latter would scarcely admit it, as his love for Ernestine, and his high military enthusiasm, made him, for the time, 'German all over--German at fever-heat,' as he said.

And splendid was the aspect of the strong brigade, with the King's Grenadiers in front, the Westphalians in the centre, and the 95th Thuringians in the rear, as it defiled across the bridge that led to the suburb of St. Johann, each battalion with its carts of reserve ammunition, drawn by six horses. After each battalion, also, came thirteen baggage and one canteen waggon, all the brass drums beating smartly to make the men step quick. The colours of the King's Grenadiers, black and white; of the other corps, black, white, and red--the standard of the North German Confederation--were floating in the wind, above the long lines of spiked helmets, and of bright bayonets and brighter musket barrels sloped in the sunshine, for the Prussian arms are not browned as ours are now, but pure, white steel. Hence the glitter over all the column was great, though the uniforms were sombre and blue.

Anon the brass bands struck up between the echoing streets of Saarbrück; but amid all the enthusiasm of the time, the crash of the martial music, the measured tramping of thousands of marching feet, Charlie's mind could not help reverting to those happy moments in the stair of the Hoch Munster, and the sadder ones in the quiet little church of Burtscheid, and, in memory, he still saw the rosy, trembling lips of the girl he loved, and the full bosom that rose and fell with sobs and sighs.

When would he be marching home, and what might happen then? Would it come to pass that he might never return, but find a grave in the soil of France? They were now within thirty miles of Metz. He cast a backward glance to where the rearguard was descending a slope, and, as if to reply to his surmises, there came marching with it a corps of grave-diggers, for a force of this kind was attached to every column, while 'by an arrangement characterised by a grim horror, yet unquestionably useful,' every Prussian officer and soldier was ordered to wear round his neck a label, to establish his identity in case of his being killed.

These reflections were but momentary, so Charlie's spirit rose again, and his heart beat responsive to the sharp and regulated crash of the drums; for there is much elasticity of mind in healthy twenty-eight or thirty years, and Charlie's were no more.

The enthusiasm all over Germany was unquestionably great at this time, and as a specimen of it, Heinrich told Charlie, exultingly, how his father's old comrade and brother officer, Field Marshal the Count Von Wrangel, then in the eighty-fourth year of his age, on seeing his old regiment, the 3rd Cuirassiers, marching through Berlin, had petitioned the king for leave to join them as a private, as he was now too aged to lead; but the king declined the offer of the brave old man, and requested him to remain in Berlin, and make himself useful in a more peaceable way.

On the early morning of the 2nd of August, Charlie Pierrepont was subaltern of the out-picket posted on the road that leads direct from the open town of Saarbrück towards Metz, where then the Emperor Napoleon III. commanded in person. He had returned from visiting his line of advanced sentinels, all of whom stood motionless, with musket ordered and bayonet fixed, with their faces turned in the direction of Metz, each longing, no doubt, for the relief and a pipe. Stiff, and chilled with the rain and dew of the summer night, Charlie shook himself, as a dog might do, and proceeded to light a cigar and look around him, as the dawn brightened, little foreseeing that this would be one of the most important days in the new current of events.

He could see the Saar winding in and out at the foot of a chain of hills, covered to their summits by beautiful oaks and beeches. Here and there the red precipices started up from the bed of the stream; for the rocks and the soil were red, and even the river was red, too, for rain had fallen overnight.

The scene looked lovely and peaceful. Red stones, spotted with orange-coloured lichens, lay plentifully in the bed of the Saar, where a solitary kingfisher wound about among the water-weeds. Here and there at the narrower parts of the stream, an occasional peasant was fishing with a tub and sink-net, and beyond lay the plain, where Saarlouis' ramparts rose above the swampy fields, where herds of cattle plashed disconsolately about.

'Guten morgen, Carl!' cried a familiar voice, and on looking up, he saw Heinrich hurrying towards him. 'I have news for you.'

'Are the enemy in motion?

'As your post is an advanced one, you should be the first to know of that. My news is from the rear.'

'From the rear!'

'How dull you are, Carl--from Frankenburg! Here, take a pull at my bottle; your own is, no doubt, empty by this time.'

'Thanks!'

Charlie took a few mouthfuls from the metal flask of brandy-and-water that Heinrich wore slung over his shoulder in a belt, and said--

'Now for your news, friend; it is not pleasant, I fear, when you fortify me thus.'

'Anything must be pleasant that comes to us from the girls we love. The field-post has just come. I have a letter from Herminia, Carl, with a little enclosure for you.'

It was a note--merely a note, on scented and tinted paper, for Ernestine was not above these feminine prettinesses, written in her graceful style and lady-like hand--to say that he was never absent from her thoughts, and how she and Herminia had wept and prayed in secret on the night the army crossed the Rhine.

'I fear, Carl, that I am looking ill and pale,' she continued, 'but sunny-haired Herminia seems to thrive on her grief; but you know she is ever all dimples--dimples on her white elbows and chin, cheeks, and hands--soft jolly dimples. Mamma, tired of knitting--she always knits as if her livelihood depended upon it--has dozed off to sleep, with her Spitz pug under her lace shawl in the boudoir. (The boudoir! Do you ever think of it, and that horrible night when she surprised us while searching for that miserable little cur?) Papa, as dinner is over, is smoking in his study, among his fishing and shooting gear, pistols, guns, whips, collars, and whistles, no doubt drinking to the health of the Kaiser and studying the _Staats Anzeiger_. All is unchanged since you left Frankenburg, from whence my heart goes with this to you, my dearest Betrothed of Burtscheid.'

Charlie was perusing this for the third time, Heinrich was lolling beside him on the grass, humming '_Du du_,' and idly playing with his silver sword-knot, while watching the bright morning sunshine stealing along the wooded hills and winding river, when suddenly there was the report of a needle-gun in front. Another, another, and a third followed, as the whole line of advanced sentinels opened fire, and the out-picket rushed to their arms and fell in their ranks.

'Sapperment!' exclaimed young Frankenburg, springing to his feet; 'it has come at last! This is war! The French are in motion in front; there will soon be work for the grave-digger corps!'

So opened the day on which the young Napoleon was to receive his 'baptism of fire.'