The question of adopting the provincial system of the Catholic Church, which would have practically made Dr. Potter an archbishop and Bishop Smith a kind of patriarch, was under consideration, but finally gave way to the "federation of dioceses," which means, we believe, the small convention of a few dioceses, instead of the large one of them all. The small one is, however, to be subject to the large one.
A canon was passed that no clergyman shall unite in marriage any divorced persons having a husband or wife living, except the innocent party in a suit for divorce on the ground of adultery. This is a great advance toward the law promulgated by our Lord, St. Matthew v. 32 and xix. 9. The next time they will probably take the whole verse, and adopt the latter clause, as well as the former. We congratulate the Episcopal Church upon this really serious improvement in a practice pregnant with great evil.
Some canons were also adopted concerning clerical support and the trials of ministers, which have no general interest and need not here be enumerated.
The Rev. Mr. Tyng and his friends were quite anxious to get the canon, in pursuance of which he was admonished, altered or interpreted; but after several discussions they failed to accomplish anything favorable to their cause, the temper of the majority of the convention being adverse to any changes. A slight amendment to what theChurch Recordcalls the "canon onintrusion" was passed, and the officiating ofdissentingministers is positively forbidden. The most unpleasant part of this matter is that, in the opinion of the Low-Churchmen, the canon is not yet quite clear. They do not understand it as some of their brethren do; and we are told that, even during the session of the convention, the Rev. Mr. Tyng permitted a Presbyterian minister to preach in his church.
A very important improvement was made, however, by which Catholic priests who leave the church, and desire to become Episcopalian ministers, shall be put upon a longer probation. Heretofore only six months were necessary; now a full year is required. We think this change important for the Episcopal Church, because, as far as our experience goes, priests, who put themselves in such a position, require quite a long period to fit themselves for so honorable a profession. We hope, for the well-being of the Protestant Episcopal ministry, they will at the next convention extend this probation to six years. They may rest assured they will have no cause to regret it.
The subject of ritual attracted considerable attention. Various memorials were presented against the innovations of late days, by which the practices of the Catholic Church have been fitted into the Prayer-Book. It was proposed to prohibit by canon the wearing of other vestments than the surplice, black stole, bands, and gown; surpliced choirs, candlesticks, crucifixes, super-altars, bowing at the name of Jesus, the use of the sign of the cross, elevation of theelementsorof the alms, and the use of incense. After some excitement, the whole matter was referred to the committee on canons, who, being divided in opinion, gave two contradictory reports. The majority report recommends moderation and forbearance, that every one be careful to do right, and that then there can be no just cause of offence. In any doubt as to what is right, reference should be made to the Ordinary, whose godly counsel in each diocese should be the rule of opinion.The minority of the committee were in favor of passing a law forbidding the objectionable practices which we have enumerated. After a very protracted discussion, neither of the reports was accepted; but a resolution was adopted which asks "the House of Bishops to set forth at the next convention such additional rubrics in the Book of Common Prayer as, in their judgment, may be decided necessary;" and that in the meanwhile reference should be made in each case to the diocesan. The House of Bishops replied that, while they would not think of altering the Prayer-Book, they would consider the whole subject, with a view to action, if it should be thought expedient at the next convention.
Thus the whole matter is postponed for three years, and, in the interim, ritualists must seek such dioceses as are favorable to their views. While Dr. Potter has no objection to the use of Catholic vestments, we see no reason why Dr. Dix and his friends should not come out at once with the chasuble and the incense. We earnestly hope, for the cause of honesty and truth, that they will do so. The case is different under therégimesof Bishops Coxe and McIlvaine who are seriously opposed to any alterations of the existing ritual. Ritualists must migrate to the bishops whose godly counsels will allow them freedom of action. It is true, as we have seen, that the pastoral of the whole House of Bishops condemns their practices; but in spite of this each one of the prelates may have his own counsel, "not having merged his individuality in his corporate relations to the body of Christ."
III. It remains to consider what the convention has done in regard to the extension of their own church, as was its first interest. Under this head we can briefly review what was said upon the relations of the Episcopal Church to other Christian bodies, and the views expressed by the deputies upon the condition and growth of their own communion.
In regard to other Christian denominations, the Episcopal Church is singularly unfortunate. It has communion with no other body of Christians in the entire world. It objects to the other Protestant sects, on the ground that they are irregular, and refuses to allow any of their ministers to officiate in its churches, as we have seen by "the canon on intrusion." It calls itself abranchof the catholic church, that is to say, those who speak for it call it by this title. The other branches are the Eastern churches and the Roman Catholic Church; at least, we are told so by those who say anything on this branch theory. With these other branches the Episcopal Church has no communion, however, and is not likely to have any. Nothing need be said of the Roman Church, for its action and language have always been decided and clear. But the Eastern branches have condemned the Anglican doctrine and orders much more plainly than the Episcopalians have condemned their Protestant brethren. Not one single instance has been found where a Greek bishop has been willing to give communion to a member of the Anglican branch, without the abjuration of his errors; and the rejection of the orders of the English ministers is as unequivocal in the East as it is in the West. Moreover, the doctrines specially condemned by the Thirty-nine Articles are held as firmly in the Eastern branch as in the Western. With all due respect, therefore, we agree with Bishop Lee, and say that, if the Episcopal Church is not a Protestant church, it has no right to be a church at all. Why then do our High-Church friends hanker after the patronage of the Greek Church?It will not help them any as far as the Catholics are concerned, and it will certainly fail to make the disinterested public think any better of their claims. They may go upon their faces before the Archbishop of Moscow, and "compromise themselves;" but though like a gentleman he will treat them with courtesy, he will have a meaner opinion of them, and in his heart will say, "Gentlemen, if you have no feet of your own to stand upon, it seems to me you had better sit down."
The High-Churchmen, who seemed to have had the upper hand in the convention, have established a committee on church unity. This able body is to labor on this important subject, with probably the same results as hitherto. No care seems to be given to the thousand Protestant bodies who came into the world either before or after the Episcopal Church. They are out of the question, and, if they want religious unity, must look for it by themselves. But all attention is devoted to the East, where, if they could get even a passing smile, as if of recognition, it would do their hearts good. Perhaps now they will get it, because they have gone so far as to recognize the jurisdiction of the Greek Church in Alaska. TheChurch Recordcalls this a great advance, and we suppose it means that they will send no ministers to Alaska, because, if they did, it would conflict with the authority of the Greek bishop. This makes it bad for any Episcopalian who may go up there, since they will have no church to go to. The Greek Church will not admit them to its communion, and they cannot have any, of their own. The upholders of the branch-theory must, however, put up with this small inconvenience.
Three years are now to be spent in making an accurate translation of the Nicene Creed in "the original Greek." Then we expect to see "the procession of the Holy Ghost from the Son" omitted in the Prayer-Book. The question is not whether it is true, or whether the Scriptures teach it. The only question is, Does the Eastern branch receive it? If it does not, then it must go. But we venture to inquire if the learned committee has made itself sure that the authorities at Moscow will be satisfied with this simple concession. We know that there is no evidence like that of sight, and hence respectfully recommend the authorities of the convention to go to the East, and there ask for a recognition. Then, when three years come around, we shall hear some positive answer. It would be a pity to alter the Creed, without any recompense whatever.
Sympathy is also expressed with the Italians who are trying to subvert the temporal power of the pope, and especially with those priests who would like to reform the Catholic Church after the model of the Anglican communion. One gentleman of much information asked, in the convention, if there really was any movement of the kind in Italy. He said he had read many travels, and had travelled himself extensively, and had never seen or heard of anygoodpriests who were disposed to turn Protestants, and as for the bad ones, he had not much faith in them. The committee replied that, in their opportunities for correspondence, they had seen much, and the results would one day appear. We wait in patience, then, to see how many good and moral priests will appear in what will probably be called the Protestant Episcopal Church in Italy.As the East, however, is nearer to them than the United States, and as England is somewhat passive, we would suggest that this new church be placed, for a time at least, under the jurisdiction of some Greek bishop. This will be more convenient, and less likely to offend, because the Greek bishops cannot marry as the Anglican bishops have power to do. But then a perplexing question will arise. If the Eastern branch has jurisdiction in Alaska, has not the Roman branch some jurisdiction in Italy? This is among the perplexities of the branch theory. To plain common sense, a church with branches is notonechurch, and to Catholics the ultra-Protestant theory is far more tenable. We believe, therefore, that the efforts toward church union will only prove more plainly the isolation of the Episcopal Church from all other Christian bodies. We are for the largest liberty possible with truth, but we are not for falsehood; and we have a right to demand that a man shall call himself what heis, and not persist in calling himself what heis not.
The view of the state of the church given by the committee is quite a favorable one, though we do not see that Episcopalians are largely increasing by conversion. Several new dioceses were formed, which will, no doubt, divide labor if they do not multiply population. The most important subject which engrossed the convention was that of education; and the principle, so long acted upon by the Catholic Church, was virtually adopted.
It was resolved to establish parochial schools wherever possible, in order to save the young from perversion by the many popular errors of our day. We earnestly hope that this resolution will generally be acted upon. It is quite evident that any denomination which has positive doctrines to teach must take care early to teach its children the principles of faith, and that a system of education without Christianity is effectually an infidel system. When the Episcopalians shall have built their parochial schools, they will be able to appreciate the labors of Catholics, who, far poorer, and far more numerous, have never been willing to trust their children to the public schools. Then perhaps they will unite with us in asking the state legislatures for a just proportion of the funds raised by taxation and devoted to the education of the young. We could never see anything but simple justice in this demand. The action of the Episcopal Convention, if carried out, will be an advance in favor of our practice, and an argument for the propriety of our claims.
The bishops express themselves in their pastoral as anxious to promote the works of mercy and education, by the establishment of communities of men and women. We understand that such organizations are to be devoted to the service of the poor, sick, and ignorant, and that they are to be modelled after the plan of our Christian Brothers or our Sisters of Charity and Mercy. They are to be, however, "free from ensnaring vows or enforced confessions." The members are to come and go when they please, and devote themselves to the labors of the community as long as they are disposed, free to leave, without scruple, at any time. We fear that on such principles communities would not hold together long, nor always act together but we are very desirous that the Episcopalians should thoroughly try them. Confession is to be permitted, it seems, when it is not forced; hence it would appear that the House of Bishops is in favor ofvoluntaryconfession for the members of these proposed associations.Any step of this kind is a great advance, for it leads the earnest mind toward the true Bride of the Lamb, "whose clothing is of wrought gold." It is hard to see why voluntary confession should be permitted to these communities and not to the Episcopalians in general. But perhaps the bishops did not mean to favor sacramental confession, although they would seem to do so by the language of the pastoral.
In this brief summary we have given what seems to us a candid review of the work of the last Episcopal Convention, as it interests Catholics and the public generally. If at any time there has been anything savoring of the ridiculous or comical in our language, we beg our reader to refer it to the subject-matter, and not to any intention of ours. He that makes assumptions of prerogatives to which he has no title will certainly excite the laughter of his neighbors. The historian who simply records facts is in no way to blame. When Episcopalian ministers call themselves Catholic priests, people will innocently laugh: and perhaps we ourselves, with all our courtesy, could not refrain from a smile. In like manner, when a church isolates itself from all the world by claims which everybody else on earth denies to it, there is something of the ridiculous in its position, and, while we may be pained, we are at the same time amused. If the committee on church union will only labor a little harder, and once in a while travel abroad, they may perhaps open the eyes of not a few.
The Episcopal Church must work either for us or for Protestantism. It has no harvest of its own to reap, and there is no middle ground for the honest mind. It has already sent many a gifted and pure soul to the home of truth and purity, and we Catholics are daily gathering in those whom it has led to our gates. We wish it God-speed in this work of conversion—in this, perhaps unintentional, labor of love. Let the so-called "Catholic priests" go on, and unprotestantize and catholicize their flocks. They will never be able to feed the hunger they have excited, nor satisfy the cravings of the heart in which God the Redeemer is showing the marks of his love. We stand ready for them and their children, to show them a truth and beauty which are real—a church which is not the work of imagination, but a living reality, formed and sustained by the incarnate Word. God grant that they sport not too long with shadows—that they delay not too long before the portals of Sion! "The night cometh in which no man can work." "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear."
God an Infant—born to-day!Born to live, to die, for me!Bow, my soul; adoring say:"Lord, I live, I die, for Thee."Humble then, but fearless, rise:Seek the manger where He lies.Tread with awe the solemn ground:Though a stable mean and rude,Wondering angels all aroundThrong the seeming solitude:Swelling anthems, as on high,Hymn a second Trinity. [Footnote 156]
God an Infant—born to-day!Born to live, to die, for me!Bow, my soul; adoring say:"Lord, I live, I die, for Thee."Humble then, but fearless, rise:Seek the manger where He lies.Tread with awe the solemn ground:Though a stable mean and rude,Wondering angels all aroundThrong the seeming solitude:Swelling anthems, as on high,Hymn a second Trinity. [Footnote 156]
[Footnote 156: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph are called by theologians "The Earthly Trinity."]
Lo, in bands of swathing wrapt,Meekly sleeps a tender Form:God on bed of straw is lapt!Breaths of cattle keep Him warm!King of glory, can it beThou art thus for love of me?Hail, my Jesus, Lord of might!Who in tiny, helpless handThy creations infiniteHoldest as a grain of sand!Hail,myJesus—all my own!Mine, as if but mine alone!God made Man, and Man made God—Natures Two in Person One,I adore Thy Precious Blood,Pulsing, burning to atone:I adore Thy Sacred Heart,Surest proof of what Thou art.Hail, my Lady—full of grace!Maiden Mother, hail to thee!Poring on the radiant Face,Thine a voiceless ecstasy;Yet, sweet Mother, let me dareJoin the worship of thy prayer.Mother of God—O wondrous name!Bending seraphs hail thee Queen.Mother of God—yet still the sameMary thou hast ever been:Still so lowly, though so great:Mortal, yet immaculate!O'er our exile's troubled sea,Thou the star, no sky shall dim:Christ our Light we owe to thee—Him to thee, and thee to Him.Take my heart, then: let it beThine in Him, and His in thee.Joseph, hail—of gentlest power!Shadow of the Father thou:Thine to shield in danger's hourWhom thy presence comforts now.Mary trusts to thee her Child;He, His Mother undefiled.Teach me thou, then, how to liveAll for them—my only all;Looking to thy arm to giveHelp in trial or in fall;Till 'tis mine with thee to proveWhat it is to die of love.
Lo, in bands of swathing wrapt,Meekly sleeps a tender Form:God on bed of straw is lapt!Breaths of cattle keep Him warm!King of glory, can it beThou art thus for love of me?Hail, my Jesus, Lord of might!Who in tiny, helpless handThy creations infiniteHoldest as a grain of sand!Hail,myJesus—all my own!Mine, as if but mine alone!God made Man, and Man made God—Natures Two in Person One,I adore Thy Precious Blood,Pulsing, burning to atone:I adore Thy Sacred Heart,Surest proof of what Thou art.Hail, my Lady—full of grace!Maiden Mother, hail to thee!Poring on the radiant Face,Thine a voiceless ecstasy;Yet, sweet Mother, let me dareJoin the worship of thy prayer.Mother of God—O wondrous name!Bending seraphs hail thee Queen.Mother of God—yet still the sameMary thou hast ever been:Still so lowly, though so great:Mortal, yet immaculate!O'er our exile's troubled sea,Thou the star, no sky shall dim:Christ our Light we owe to thee—Him to thee, and thee to Him.Take my heart, then: let it beThine in Him, and His in thee.Joseph, hail—of gentlest power!Shadow of the Father thou:Thine to shield in danger's hourWhom thy presence comforts now.Mary trusts to thee her Child;He, His Mother undefiled.Teach me thou, then, how to liveAll for them—my only all;Looking to thy arm to giveHelp in trial or in fall;Till 'tis mine with thee to proveWhat it is to die of love.
From The French Of Erckmann And Chatrian.
At seven o'clock everything was still quiet.
From time to time Dr. Lorquin opened a window of the great hall and looked abroad. Nothing was stirring; even the fires had gone out.
Louise, seated near her father, gazed sadly and tenderly upon him. She seemed to fear that she would never again see him, and her reddened eyes showed that she had been weeping.
Hullin, though firm, showed signs of emotion.
The doctor and the Anabaptist, both grave and solemn in their manner, were conversing, and Lagarmitte, behind the stove, listened thoughtfully to their words.
"We have not only the right, but it is our duty to defend ourselves," the doctor was saying. "Our fathers cleared these woods and cultivated the land. They are now rightfully ours."
"Doubtless," answered the Anabaptist; "but it is written, Thou shalt not kill! Thou shalt not spill thy brother's blood!"
Catherine Lefevre, whom this view of matters annoyed, turned suddenly from her work, saying:
"Then if we believed as you do, we would let the Germans and Russians drive us from house and home. Your religion is a famous one for thieves! The Allies ask nothing better, I am sure. I do not wish to insult you, Pelsly; you have been brought up in these notions; but we will defend you despite yourself. I love to hear of peace, but not when the enemy is at our doors."
Pelsly remained mute from astonishment, and Doctor Lorquin could not repress a smile.
At the same moment the door opened, and a sentry entered, crying:
"Master Jean-Claude, come! I believe they are advancing."
"I am coming, Simon," answered Hullin, rising. "Embrace me, Louise. Courage, my child; fear not, all will go well."
He clasped her to his bosom and his eyes filled with tears. She seemed more dead than living.
"Be sure," said he to Catherine, "to let no one go out or approach the windows."
He rushed from the house to the edge of the plateau, and cast his eyes toward Grandfontaine and Framont, thousands of feet below him.
The Germans had arrived the evening before, a few hours after the Cossacks. They had passed the night, to the number of five or six thousand, in barns, stables, or under sheds, and were now clustering like ants, pouring from every door in tens and twenties, and hurrying to buckle on knapsacks, fasten sabres, or fix bayonets.
Others—cavalry—Uhlans, Cossacks, hussars, in green, gray, and blue uniforms, faced with red or yellow, with caps of waxed cloth or lamb-skin, were hastily saddling their horses or rolling their blankets.
Trumpets were sounding at every street-corner, and drummers were tightening their drum-cords. Every phase of military life seemed there.
A few peasants, stretching their heads out of their windows, gazed at all this; women crowded at the garret-windows, and innkeepers filled flasks.
Nothing escaped Hullin, and such scenes were not new to him, but Lagarmitte was petrified with wonder.
"How many they are!" he cried.
"Bah!" returned Hullin; "what does that matter? In my time, we annihilated three armies of fifty thousand each of that same race in six months, and we were not one to four. Rest easy, however; we shall not have to kill all these; they will fly like hares. You will see."
These judicious reflections uttered, he turned back to theabatis, and the two followed a path which had been made in the snow a couple of days before. The snow, hardened by the frost, had become ice, and the trees formed an impassable barrier. Below lay the ruined road.
As he appeared, Jean-Claude saw the mountaineers from Dagsberg in groups, twenty paces distant from each other, in round holes like nests which they had dug for themselves. These brave fellows were seated on their haversacks, their fox-skin caps pulled down over their heads and their muskets between their knees. They had only to rise to view the road fifty yards beneath them at the foot of a very slippery slope.
"Ha, Master Jean-Claude! When is the work to begin?"
"Easy, my boys; do not be impatient; in an hour you will have enough to do."
"So much the better."
"Aim well at the height of the breast, and don't expose yourselves more than you can help."
"Never fear for us, Master Jean-Claude."
"Do not forget to cease firing when Lagarmitte winds his horn; we cannot afford to lose powder."
He found Materne at his post, lighting his pipe; the old man's beard was frozen almost solid.
"They seem to be in no hurry to attack," said Jean-Claude. "Can it be that they will take another route through the mountains?"
"Never fear it," answered the old man. "They need the road for their artillery and baggage. Listen! The bugles are sounding, 'Boots and saddles.' But do you know, Hullin," asked the hunter with a low chuckle, "what I saw a while ago in Grandfontaine? I saw four Austrians knock old Dubreuil, the friend of the Allies, down and thrash him well with sticks, the old wretch! It did my heart good. I suppose he refused some of his wine to his good friends."
Hullin listened to no more; for, happening to cast his eyes to the valley, he saw a regiment of infantry debouching on the road. Beyond, in the street, cavalry were advancing, five or six officers galloping in front.
"At last!" cried the old soldier, his face lighting up with a look of fierce determination—"at last!"
And dashing along the line, he cried:
"Attention, men of the Vosges!"
Lagarmitte followed with his bugle. Ten minutes after, when the two, all breathless, had reached the pinnacle of the rock, they saw the enemy's column fifteen hundred feet beneath them, about three thousand strong, with their long white coats, canvas-gaiters, bear-skin shakos, and red mustaches, their young officers, sword in hand, curveting in the intervals between the companies, and from time to time turning round and shouting hoarsely, "Forvertz! forvertz!" while above the line the bayonets flashed and glittered in the sun.
They were pressing on to theabatisat thepas de charge.
Old Materne, too, saw the Germans advancing, and his keen eyes could even note the individuals of the mass. In a moment he had chosen his quarry.
In the middle of the column, on a tall bay horse, rode an old officer, wearing a white peruke, a three-cornered hat heavily laced with gold, and a yellow sash. His breast was covered with ribbons, and his thick black plumes danced merrily as he cantered on.
"There is my man!" muttered the hunter, as he slowly brought his piece to his shoulder.
A report, a wreath of white smoke, and the old officer had disappeared. In a moment the whole line of intrenchments rattled with musketry; but the Austrians, without replying, pressed steadily upward, their ranks as regular and well aligned as if they were on parade; and to speak truth, many a brave mountaineer, mayhap the father of a family, as he saw that forest of bayonets come on, thought that perhaps he might better have remained at home in his village than have shouldered his rifle for its defence. But as the proverb says, the wine was drawn, naught but to drink remained!
When two hundred paces from the abatis, the enemy halted, and began a rolling fire, such as the mountain echoes had never before replied to. Bullets hailed on every side, cutting the branches, scattering the icicles, and flattening themselves on the rocks; their continued hiss was like the humming of a swarm of bees. All this did not arrest the fire of the mountaineers, and soon both sides were buried in thick gray smoke; but at the end of ten minutes more, the drums beat out the charge, and again the mass of bayonets dashed toward theabatis; and again the cry of "Forvertz! forvertz!" rang out, but now nearer and nearer, until the firm earth trembled beneath the tramp of thousands of feet.
Materne, rising to his full height, with quivering cheeks and flashing eyes, shouted, "Up! up!"
It was time. Many of the Austrians, almost all of them students of philosophy, or law, or medicine, gathered from the breweries of Munich, Jena, and other towns—men who fought against us because they believed that Napoleon's fall would alone give them freedom—many of these intrepid fellows had clambered on all-fours over the frozen snow and hurled themselves upon the works. But each who climbed theabatiswas met by a blow from a clubbed musket, and flung back among his comrades.
Then did the strength and bravery of old Rochart the wood-cutter show themselves. Man after man of these children of the Vaterland did he stretch upon the whitened earth. Old Materne's bayonet ran with blood. The little tailor, Riffi, loaded and fired into the mass with the cool courage of a veteran, and Joseph Larnette, Hans Baumgarten, whose shoulder was pierced by a ball, Daniel Spitz, who lost two fingers by a sabre stroke, and a host of others, will be for ever honored by their countrymen for their deeds that day. For more than a quarter of an hour the fight was hand to hand. Nearly all the students had fallen, and the others, veterans accustomed to retiring honorably, turned to retrace their steps.At first they retreated slowly; then faster and faster. Their officers urged them to the attack once more, and seconded their words with blows from the flat of their swords, but in vain; bullets poured among them from theabatis, and soon all order was lost; the retreat was a wild rout.
Materne laughed grimly as he gazed after the flying foe, lately advancing in such proud array, and shook his rifle above his head in joy.
At the bottom of the slope lay hundreds of wounded. The snow was red with blood, and in the midst of heaps of slain were two young officers yet living, but crushed beneath the weight of their dead horses.
It was horrible! But men are oftentimes savage as the beasts of the forests. Not a man among the flushed mountaineers seemed to have a thought for all the misery he saw before him; it even seemed to rejoice many.
Little Riffi, carried away by a sublime ardor for plunder, glided down the steep. He had caught a glimpse of a splendid horse, that of the colonel whom Materne had shot, which, protected by a corner of the rock, stood safe and sound.
"You are mine!" cried the tailor, as he seized the bridle. "How astonished my wife Sapience will be!"
All the others envied him as he mounted his prize; but their envy was soon checked when they saw the noble animal dash at full speed toward the Austrians. The little tailor tugged at the bridle, and shouted, and cursed, and prayed, but all to no purpose. Materne would have fired, but he feared that in that wild gallop he might kill the man, and soon Riffi disappeared among the enemy's bayonets.
All thought he would be massacred at once, but an hour later they saw him pass through the street of Grandfontaine, his hands bound behind his back, and a corporal following with uplifted cane.
Poor Riffi! He did not long enjoy his triumph, and his comrades at length laughed at his sad fate as merrily as if he had been a Kaiserlik. Such is the nature of man; as long as he feels no ill himself, the troubles of others affect him little.
The mountaineers were wild with exultation; their triumph knew no bounds, and they looked upon each other as so many heroes.
Catherine, Louise, Doctor Larquin, all who had remained at the farm, rushed out to greet the victors. They scanned the marks of bullets, gazed at the blood-stained slope; then the Doctor ordered Baumgarten and Spitz to the hospital, although the latter insisted on still remaining at his post.
Louise distributed brandy among the men, and Catherine Lefevre, standing on the edge of the slope, gazed at the dead and wounded. There lay old and young, their faces white as wax, their eyes wide and staring, their arms outstretched. Some had fallen in attempting to rise, and the faces of some wore a look of fear as if they yet dreaded these terrible blows which the clubbed rifles had dealt. Others had dragged themselves out of the range of fire, and their route was marked by tracks of blood.
Many of the wounded seemed resigned to their lot, and only seeking a place to die; others gazed wistfully after their regiment, which they could discern on its way to Framont—that regiment with which they had quitted their native village, with which they had till then safely braved the toils and dangers of a long campaign, but which now abandoned them to die, far from friends and home, surrounded by an infuriated foe.And they thought how a trembling mother or sister would ask their captain or their sergeant, "Did you know Hans, or Kasper, or Nickel, of the first or second company?" And how coldly would come the reply: "Let me see; it is very likely. Had he not brown hair and blue eyes? Yes, I knew him; we left him in France near a little village, the name of which I forget. He was killed by the mountaineers the same day as the stout major, Yeri-Peter. A brave fellow! Good evening."
Perhaps, too, some among them thought of a pretty Gretchen or Lotchen, who had given them a ribbon, and wept hot tears at their departure, and sobbed, "I will wait for you, Kasper. I will marry no one but you!" Thou wilt wait long, poor girl!
All this was not very pleasant, and Mother Lefevre's thoughts, as she gazed, wandered to Gaspard. Hullin, however, soon came with Lagarmitte to where she stood, and cried exultantly:
"Hurrah, boys! you have seen fire, and those Germans yonder will not boast much of this day's work."
He ran to embrace Louise, and then ran back to Catherine.
"Are you satisfied, Mother Lefevre? Fortune smiles; but what is the matter?"
"Yes, Jean-Claude, I am satisfied; all goes well; but look yonder upon the road; what a massacre!"
"War is war," replied Hullin gravely.
"Is there no way of helping that poor fellow there—the one looking up at us with his large blue eyes? O heaven! they pierce my very heart! Or that tall, brown-haired one binding his arm with his handkerchief?"
"Impossible, Catherine! I am sorry; but we should have to cut steps in the ice to descend; and the Austrians, who will be back in an hour or two, would make use of them in their next attack. But we must go and announce our victory through the villages, and to Labarbe, and Jerome, and Piarette. Holla! Simon, Niklo, Marchal! carry the news to our comrades. Materne, see that you look sharp, and report the least movement."
They went together to the farmhouse, and Jean-Claude met the reserve as he passed, and Marc-Dives on horseback in the midst of his men. The smuggler complained bitterly of having had no part in the fight; he felt disgraced, dishonored.
"Bah!" said Hullin, "so much the better. Watch on our right; if we are attacked there, you will have enough to do."
Dives said nothing; his good humor could not so easily be restored; nor that of his men—smugglers like himself—who, wrapped in their mantles, and with their long rapiers dangling from their sides, seemed meditating vengeance for what they deemed a slight.
Hullin, unable to pacify them, entered the farm-house. Doctor Lorquin was extracting the ball from the wound of Baumgarten, who uttered terrible shrieks.
Pelsly, standing at the threshold, trembled in every limb. Jean-Claude demanded paper and ink to send his orders to the posts, and the poor Anabaptist had scarcely strength to go for them. The messengers departed, proud enough to be the bearers of the tidings of the first battle and victory.
A few mountaineers in the great hall were warming themselves at the stove, and discussing the details of the fight in animated tones. Daniel Spitz had his two fingers amputated, and sat behind the stove, his hand wrapped in lint.
The men who had been posted behind theabatisbefore daybreak, not having yet breakfasted, were—each with a huge piece of bread and a glass of wine—making up for lost time, all the time shouting, gesticulating, and boasting as much as their full mouths would allow them to, and every now and then, when some one would speak of poor Riffi and his misfortunes, they were ready to burst their sides laughing.
It was eleven o'clock, when Marc-Dives rushed into the hall, crying:
"Hullin! Hullin! Where is Hullin?"
"Here!"
"Follow me—quick!"
The smuggler spoke in a strange tone. A few moments before, he was furious at not having taken part in the battle; now he seemed triumphant. Jean-Claude followed, sorely disquieted, and the hall was cleared in a minute, all feeling that Marc's hurry was of grave portent.
To the right of Donon stretches the ravine of Minières, through which roars a torrent which rushes from the mountain-side to the depths of the valley.
Opposite the plateau defended by the partisans, and on the other side of the ravine, five or six hundred feet distant, rose a sort of terrace with very steep sides, which Hullin had not deemed it necessary to occupy, as he was unwilling to divide his forces, and saw also that the position could be easily turned under cover of the fir forest, if the enemy should occupy it.
Imagine the brave old man's dismay when, from the farm-house door, he saw two companies' of Austrians climbing up the side with two field-pieces, which, dragged up by strong ropes, seemed to hang over the precipice. They were pushing at the wheels, too, and in a few moments the guns would be on the flat top. He stood for an instant as if struck by lightning, and then turned fiercely on Dives.
"Could you not tell me of this before?" he cried. "Was it for this I ordered you to watch the ravine? Our position is turned! Our retreat is cut off! You have lost all!"
All present, even old Materne, shrank from the flashing eyes bent upon the smuggler, and he, notwithstanding his usual cool audacity, could not for some moments reply.
"Be calm, Jean-Claude," said he at last; "it is not so bad as you think. My fellows have yet done nothing, and as we want cannon, those shall be ours."
"Fool! Has your vanity brought us to this? You must needs fight, boast—and for this you sacrifice us all! Look! they are coming from Framont, too!"
Even as he spoke, the head of a new column, much stronger than the first, appeared, advancing from Framont toward theabatisat the double-quick. Dives said not a word. Hullin, conquering his rage in the face of danger, shouted:
"To your posts, all! Attention, Materne!"
The old hunter bent his head, listening.
Marc-Dives had recovered all his coolness.
"Instead of scolding like a woman," said he, "you had better give me the order to attack those yonder from the cover of the woods."
"Do so, in heaven's name," cried Hullin. "Listen, Marc! We were victorious, and your fault has risked all the fruits of our victory. Your life shall answer for our success."
"I accept the terms."
The smuggler, springing upon his horse, threw his cloak proudly over his shoulder, and drew his long, straight blade. His men followed the example. Then, turning to the fifty mountaineers who composed his troop, Dives pointed with his sword to the enemy, and cried:
"We must have yon height, boys. The men of Dagsberg shall never be called braver than those of the Sarre. Forward!"
The troops dashed on, and Hullin, still pale from the effects of his anger, shouted after:
"Give them the steel!"
The tall smuggler, on his huge and strong steed, turned his head, and a laugh broke from his lips. He shook his sword expressively, and the troops disappeared in the wood.
At the same moment the Austrians, with their two guns—eight-pounders—reached the level top, while the Framont column still pressed up the slope. Everything was as before the battle, save that now the mountaineers were between two fires.
They saw the two guns with their rammers and caissons distinctly. A tall, lean officer, with broad shoulders and long, flaxen mustaches, commanded. In the clear mountain air they seemed almost within reach, but Hullin and Materne knew better; they were a good six hundred yards away, further than any rifle could carry.
Nevertheless, the old hunter wished to return to theabatiswith a clear conscience. He advanced as near as possible to the ravine, followed by his son Kasper and a few partisans, and, steadying his piece against a tree, slowly covered the tall officer with the light mustaches.
All held their breath lest the aim might be disturbed.
The report rang out, but when Materne placed the butt of his rifle again on the ground, to see the effect of his shot, all was as before.
"It is strange how age affects the sight," said he.
"Affects your sight!" cried Kasper. "Not a man from the Vosges to Switzerland can place a ball at two hundred yards as true as you."
The old forester knew it well, but he did not wish to discourage the others.
"Well, well," he replied, "we have no time to dispute about it. The enemy is coming. Let every man do his duty."
Despite these words, so calm and simple, Materne too was sorely troubled. As he entered the trench, the air seemed full of sounds of dire foreboding, the rattling of arms, the steady tramp of a trained multitude. He looked down the steep and saw the Austrians pressing on, but this time with long ladders, to the ends of which great iron hooks were fastened.
"Kasper," he whispered, "things look ill—ill indeed. Give me your hand. I would like to have you and Frantz near me! Remember to do your part like a man."
As he spoke, a heavy shock shook the defences to their foundations, and a hoarse voice cried, "O my God!"
Then a fir-tree, a hundred paces off, bent slowly and thundered into the abyss. It was the first cannon-shot, and it had carried off both old Rochart's legs. Another and another followed, and soon the air was thick with crushed and flying ice, while the shrieking of the balls struck terror to the stoutest hearts. Even old Materne trembled for a moment; but his brave heart was soon itself again, and he cried:
"Vengeance! vengeance! Victory or death!"
Happily, the terror of the mountaineers was of short duration. All knew that they must conquer or die. Two ladders were already fixed, despite the hail of bullets, and the combat was once more foot to foot and hand to hand, fiercer and bloodier than before.
Hullin had seen the ladders before Materne, and once more his wrath against Dives arose; but he knew that anger then availed naught, and he sent Lagarmitte to order Frantz, who was posted on the other side of Donon, to hasten to the farm with half his men. The brave boy, warned of his father's danger, lost not a moment, and already the black slouched hats were seen climbing the mountain-side. Jean-Claude, breathless, the sweat pouring from his brow, ran to meet them, crying:
"Quick, quick! or all is lost!" He trembled once more with rage, attributing all their misfortunes to the smuggler.
But where was Marc-Dives? In half an hour he had made his way around the ravine, and from his steed saw the two companies of Austrians drawn up at ordered arms, two hundred paces behind the guns, which still kept up their fire upon the intrenchments. He turned to the mountaineers, and in a low voice, while the thunder of the cannon echoed peal upon peal from the valley, and the shouts and shrieks and clatter of the assault rose beyond it, said:
"Comrades, you will fall upon the infantry with the bayonet. I and my men will do the rest. Forward!"
The whole troop advanced in good order to the edge of the wood, tall Piercy of Soldatenthal at their head.
They heard theWerda[Footnote 157] of a sentinel. Two shots replied; then the shout of "Vive la France!" rang to heaven, and the brave mountaineers rushed upon the foe like famished wolves upon their prey.
[Footnote 157: "Who goes there?"]
Dives, erect in his stirrups, looked on and laughed.
"Well done!" he said. "Charge!" The earth shook beneath the shock. Neither Austrians nor partisans fired; for a while nothing was heard but the clash of bayonets or the dull thud of the clubbed muskets as they fell; then shrieks and groans and cries of rage arose, and from time to time a shot rang out. Friend and foe were mixed and mingled in the savage fray.
The band of smugglers, sabre in hand, sat all this while gazing at the fight, awaiting their leader's signal to engage.
It came at last.
"Now is our time," cried Marc. "One brave blow, and the guns are ours."
And forth from the cover of the wood, their long mantles floating behind in the wind, every man, in his fiery impatience, bending over his saddle-bow, and pointing his long, straight rapier straight forward, broke the bold riders.
"The point, my lads! the point! never mind the edge!" shouted Dives.
In a moment they were on the pieces. Among Marc's troop were four old dragoons who had seen the Spanish wars through, and two veteran cuirassiers of the guard, whom love of danger had attached to the smuggler. The rammers and short sabres of the artillerymen could avail but little against their well-aimed thrusts, each one of which brought a man to the earth.