About eight o'clock that same evening, twenty wagons, loaded alternately with hay and straw, left Froeschwiller by the road to Enashausen. Each one was driven by a man who, in accordance with the old saying that French was intended to be spoken to men, Italian to women, and German to horses, addressed his horses in a language marked by the strange oaths that Schiller put in the mouths of his Robbers.
Once beyond Froeschwiller the wagons went silently along the highroad leading to the village of Enashausen, which bends straight back, by an angle, to Woerth. They stopped in the village only long enough for the drivers to take a drink at the door of the wine-shop, and then continued on their way.
When they were within a hundred feet of the town the first wagoner stopped his cart and went on alone to the gate. He was challenged by a sentinel before he had gone ten paces, to whom he replied: "I am bringing some wagons that have been ordered and am on my way to report."
The first sentinel let him pass, as did the second and the third. At the gate he slipped his paper through the wicket and waited. The wicket closed again, and in a moment the little side door opened and the sergeant in charge appeared.
"Is it you, my boy?"' he asked; "where are your wagons?"
"About a hundred feet off, sergeant."
It is needless to add that both question and answer were in German.
"Very well," said the sergeant, still in German, "I willbring them in myself." And he went out, charging the man he left behind to be careful.
The sergeant and the wagoner passed the three lines of sentinels and reached the wagons which were waiting on the highroad. The sergeant glanced at them carelessly and ordered them to proceed. Wagons and wagoners started, and, led by the sergeant, passed the sentinels and entered the gate which closed behind them.
"Now," said the sergeant, "do you know the way to the barracks or shall I go with you?"
"No need of that," replied the chief wagoner; "we will take the wagons to the Golden Lion to-night in order to save trouble, and in the morning we will take the forage to the barracks."
"Very well," said the sergeant, re-entering the guard-house; "good-night, comrades."
"Good-night," replied the wagoner.
The Golden Lion was scarcely a hundred feet from the gate by which they had just entered. The chief wagoner rapped upon the glass, and as it was only ten o'clock the landlord appeared upon the threshold.
"Ah! is it you, Stephan?" he asked, glancing at the long line of wagons, which extended from his door almost to the Haguenau gate.
"Yes, Monsieur Bauer, myself," replied the chief wagoner.
"And all goes well?"
"Perfectly."
"No trouble in entering?"
"Not the slightest. And here?"
"We are ready."
"The house?"
"A match is all that is needed."
"Then we had better bring the carts into the courtyard. Our men must be stifling."
Fortunately the courtyard was large, and the twenty carts had no difficulty in entering. The great gate wasclosed, and the landlord and the wagoner were alone. Then, at a given signal—three claps of the hand—a singular thing came to pass.
The bales of hay or straw in each wagon began to move. Then two heads appeared, followed by two bodies, and finally two men, dressed in the Prussian uniform, emerged. Then from each of the carts they took another uniform, which they gave the wagoners. Then, to crown the work, each soldier, standing in the wagon, armed himself with a musket, and took out a third for the wagoner. Thus, when nine o'clock sounded, Stephan, clad as a Prussian sergeant, had under his orders the sixty resolute German-speaking men for whom he had asked Pichegru. They went directly to the stable, where the door was shut after them when they had received the order to load their muskets, which had been left unloaded for fear of accidents in the wagons.
Then Bauer and Stephan went out arm in arm. They went to the house to which the latter had referred when they met; it stood in the highest part of the town, as far as possible from the Haguenau gate, and not a hundred feet from the powder-magazine. The house, which resembled a Swiss châlet, was built entirely of wood. Bauer showed Stephan a room filled with combustible matter and resinous wood.
"At what time shall I fire the house?" asked Bauer, as simply as if he had been speaking of the most trivial matter.
"At half-past eleven," replied Stephan.
It was then nearly ten.
"Are you sure that the general will be on hand at half-past eleven?"
"In person."
"You know," said Bauer, "that once the Prussians realize that the burning house is near the powder-magazine, they will rush here to save the powder, and the inclosure in which the military wagons are stored. In the meantime the Rue de Haguenau will be empty, and that is the time to carry the gate and enter the town. The general can reach thegreat square without firing, and at the first report five hundred patriots will open their windows and begin to shoot at the Prussians."
"Have you men to sound the tocsin?"
"Two in each church."
"Then all is ready," said Stephan. "Let us take a look at the powder-magazine, and then go back."
They returned by the ramparts, and found that, as Bauer had said, the wooden house was within fifty feet of the inclosure. At eleven o'clock they entered the courtyard of the Golden Lion. The sixty men were ready and full of enthusiasm, and understood that they had been intrusted with a great enterprise.
At a quarter past eleven Bauer shook hands with Stephan, and, assuring himself that he was provided with his tinder-box and flint, made his way toward the wooden house.
Stephan, who remained behind, called his sixty men and explained his plan to them. Each understood what he had to do, and swore to carry it out as far as possible. They waited. Half-past eleven struck. Stephan, at the highest window in the house, was watching for the first gleam of light. Scarcely had the strokes ceased to vibrate in the air than a reddish glare began to color the roofs in the upper part of the town. Stephan ran down; the time had come.
The men were drawn up in the yard in three platoons of twenty men each. Stephan half opened the gate. Every one was running to the other part of town. He ordered his men to march toward the Haguenau gate in single file, while he himself ran ahead, crying: "Fire! in the higher parts of the town, comrades! Fire! near the powder-magazine! Fire! save the wagons! Fire! keep the powder from exploding!"
Stephan ran to the guard of twenty-four men at the gate. The sentinel, taking him for the sergeant of the post, did not stop him.
"Every one of you to the upper part of the town to save the wagons and the powder. To the fire! to the fire!"
Not one of the twenty-four men remained, save the sentinel, chained by his orders. But his curiosity got the better of his discipline, and he asked the pretended sergeant what had happened. The latter, full of good-will toward his subordinates, told him that a servant had fired the wooden house belonging to the landlord of the Golden Lion. In the meantime the patrol was approaching from behind.
"What is that?" asked the sentinel.
"Oh, nothing," replied Stephan, "a patrol." And so saying he slipped a gag into the sentinel's mouth and pushed him toward the first two men of the patrol, who bound him firmly.
Then they carried him into the guard-house, locked him in the officer's room, and took out the key. One of the men volunteered to replace the sentinel, and as they were obliged to know the countersign Stephan undertook to find out what it was.
Holding the key in one hand and a sharp dagger in the other he entered the room. No one knew what arguments he used, but when he came out the sentinel had spoken in spite of his gag. He told the sentinel that the words for the day were Stettin and Strasbourg.
Then they seized the gate-keeper, bound him and locked him in the cellar, Stephan again taking the keys.
Then he put fifty-five of his men in the gatekeeper's room, bidding them hold the gate at all odds so long as one of them was alive. Finally he went out with his five men to relieve the outside sentinels.
In ten minutes two of them were dead and the third a prisoner. Their places were taken by three of his men. Then with the other two he hastened toward Enashausen; but scarcely had he gone a hundred yards when he came upon a black, compact mass, which proved to be Pichegru's men. He was soon face to face with the general.
"Well?" asked the latter.
"Not an instant to lose, general; we must hurry."
"The Haguenau gate?"
"Is ours."
"Come, children," said Pichegru, who realized that this was no time for lengthy explanations, "Forward! march!"
They obeyed with the joyful eagerness which is born of hope, taking with them the sentinels who had been stationed along the walls. Just as they reached the third they heard rapid firing from the gate where Stephan had left his men.
"Hurry, general," said he, "our men are attacked!"
The column advanced at a quick-step. The gate opened and the portcullis was raised as they came in sight. Though attacked by a force thrice as great as their own, the Republicans had held their ground; the gate was still theirs. The column dashed through the gate and down the street like a wild-boar which sweeps everything before him, while Stephan's men—who were a target, with their Prussian uniforms, for the men of Pichegru's command, who did not know of his little ruse—kept close to the wall.
They marched on with levelled bayonets, the small force of Prussians who had attacked the gate fleeing before them. Hoping to be relieved, they sent orderlies before them to give the alarm that the French were masters of the Haguenau gate. Shots echoed throughout the town, thanks to Bauer and his men, who were firing from the windows.
Pichegru was able to appreciate the panic better when he reached the principal square. The Prussians were running hither and thither, not knowing which way to turn. He ranged his men in order of battle, while a thousand men were sent to the upper town, where most of the Prussians had hurried. The fight raged in twenty different directions. The Prussians did not attempt to rally to a centre; the attack had been so sudden, and they were confused by the conflagration, the firing, and the ringing of the tocsin.Although the force commanded by Pichegru and Macdonald was no greater than that of their adversaries, the struggle was not as prolonged as if the advantages had not all been with the French.
At midnight the Prussians had retired from the town, but Pichegru was not assured of their final retreat until two in the morning. He stationed soldiers everywhere, ordered the gates guarded with the utmost vigilance, and bade the soldiers bivouac in the streets. All the townsfolk kept open house, contributing in some way to the welfare of the soldiers, to celebrate the event. Fires were lighted in the streets, and meat was cooked upon the immense spits in vogue during the latter century. Then a procession was arranged like the ones that hail the approach of carnival times in the northern cities. The streets were illuminated, the Prussian uniforms worn by Stephan's men were given to the people to be burned in effigy, and every citizen took a soldier by the arm and invited him to the fraternal banquet.
Pichegru took care not to oppose this patriotic outburst. He knew well, for his intelligence was exceptionally acute, that the real strength of France lay in consolidating the people and the army until they became one body animated by one soul. Only, fearing that the enemy might attempt some surprise, he gave orders to redouble the sentinels, and, to permit each to share in the celebration, he reduced the time of duty from two hours to one.
There were some twenty aristocrats in Woerth who illuminated their houses even more gayly than the others, fearing, doubtless, that they would be accused of coldness toward the government and that the day of reprisals would follow closely. Their fears were groundless, for all that they had to endure was theauto-da-féof the Prussian uniforms, and they were invited to participate in the celebrations at theauto-da-fétables which were spread in front of their houses. This they did gladly, only too willing to escape thus easily.
Pichegru had remained in the public square with a thousand men ready to give assistance if it were needed, and later to receive orders. Seeing that the order to bivouac in the streets had served as a pretext for general merry-making, he had encouraged it, and, leaving Macdonald to command in his place, he went with Stephan toward the upper part of the town.
About three o'clock in the morning Pichegru went back to the inn, for Bauer had asked as a favor that he be allowed to lodge the general. The finest apartments in the inn had been prepared, and while Pichegru was walking about the town the staircase had been decorated with flags, wreaths, and ornamental pieces. In the dining-room a table with twenty-five covers had been laid, and the windows and doors decorated with greens and flowers, for the general and his staff.
Pichegru, as we have seen at Arbois, was perfectly indifferent to triumphal demonstrations, but this time he looked upon it as a Republican love-feast.
The general was accompanied by all the high dignitaries of the town who had been the first to yield to him. At the door, as Stephan was preparing to slip away unnoticed, he caught him by the arm.
"Stephan," said he, "I have always believed in the proverb that short reckonings make long friends. Now I have a double reckoning to settle with you."
"Oh! that can be done easily, general. Will you grant me two requests?" said Stephan.
"With pleasure."
"First I ask for an invitation to supper."
"For yourself?"
"Oh! general, you know that I am only a spy."
"In the eyes of the world; but in mine—"
"I am myself in your eyes, and that satisfies me; let me be what I seem to the world. I care nothing for what it thinks of me, but only for my revenge."
"All right; and the second request?"
"Is that you will give a toast."
"To whom?"
"You will see when you give it."
"But in order to make it—"
"Here it is all written out."
Pichegru was about to read it, but Stephan stopped him.
"Read it when you give the toast," he said.
Pichegru put the paper in his pocket. "And whom shall I invite?"
"A great citizen—Prosper Bauer."
"The landlord of the inn?"
"Yes."
"What has he done that is so fine?"
"You will see when you read the toast."
"Will you always be so mysterious?"
"My power lies in mystery."
"You know that we attack to-morrow."
"Do you need any information about their position?"
"You must be tired."
"I am never tired."
"Do what you please; anything you do will be well done, unless you are caught."
"When can I bring you my report?"
"Any time. If you are never tired, I at least never sleep."
"Au revoir, general."
"Au revoir."
Then turning to the group that had stood aside while he was talking with Stephan, he looked vainly around for the landlord of the Golden Lion.
"Charles," he said, "have the goodness to find our host, citizen Bauer, and ask him for me to sup with us. Take no refusal, and accept no excuse."
Charles bowed and went in search of Prosper Bauer.
Pichegru went upstairs and the rest of the staff followed him. He placed the mayor on his right, the deputy-mayor at his left, and left the seat opposite him for the landlordof the Golden Lion. At length Charles appeared, almost dragging the embarrassed innkeeper after him.
"General," he said, "I come, not at your invitation, of which I am not worthy, but at your command."
"Very well, citizen," said Pichegru, pointing to the empty chair, "sit down there, and after supper we will settle that."
The supper was a merry one, and they drank to victory and deliverance together. There is a strong hatred between the Alsatians and the Prussians, and during the two months that the Prussians had occupied the lines of Weissembourg the Alsatians had had cause to hate them still more. This time they hoped to be rid of them altogether. But they were to see them twenty-five years later, when the insatiable Prussian eagle, having devoured a third of the white eagle of Poland, was to tear away one of the heads of the Austrian eagle.
Toward the end of the supper the general remembered his promise to Stephan. He rose, took his glass in one hand and the paper in the other. Everybody followed his example, and, in the midst of profound silence, he read:
"To the great patriot and citizen, Prosper Bauer, who conceived the plan which restored the town of Woerth to France; who risked his life by receiving and sheltering the sixty men in Prussian uniform who carried the Haguenau gate; who was the first to give the signal to five hundred patriots to fire from the windows upon the enemy; and who, finally, in order to keep the Prussians in the higher part of the town and to create a diversion from the attack upon the gate, set fire to his house with his own hand. To the man who in one day risked his life and sacrificed his fortune."
Here the applause forced Pichegru to stop. But as he made a sign that he wished to continue, silence fell again.
"It was by this light, kindled by the purest patriotism and the most filial devotion, that the foreigners read upon our victorious flags, 'Hatred to tyrants! Nationality for thepeople! Liberty of the world!' All honor to the great patriot and citizen, Bauer!"
And then, amid cheers and applause, Pichegru embraced him in the name of France. Three days later the capture of Woerth was announced in the "Moniteur," and Pichegru's toast was repeated in full. It was the sole reward that the brave Bauer would consent to receive.
However much we may desire not to lose ourselves in accounts of sieges and battles, we must now follow Hoche and Pichegru in their triumphal course. A chapter or two, however, will suffice to bring us to the time when the enemy was driven beyond the frontiers of France—at least, as far as Alsace and Lorraine are concerned. Moreover, as will be seen, after the three battles of Dawendorff, Froeschwiller, and Woerth, the enemy withdrew from France.
At four o'clock in the morning Stephan came to tell Pichegru that the Prussians, amazed at the way they had been driven from Woerth, were retreating across the Vosges in two columns, one going toward Drakenbroenn, and the other toward Lembach.
Pichegru at once sent an aide-de-camp to inform Hoche that the town was in his hands and that they would attack on the next day, or rather on that very day at five in the morning. He intended to form his army into three columns to attack in the front, and he directed Hoche to leave the intrenchments, and, marching upon Groersdorff, to attack them on the rear. The retreat of the Prussians rendered this manœuvre unnecessary. Doumerc was awakened, and, springing upon his horse, he hastened to tell Hoche to pursue the enemy, while Pichegru fell back upon Haguenau and occupied the town.
But when Pichegru, at the head of his column, reached the heights of Spachbach, he met a messenger whom the mayor of Haguenau had despatched, who informed him that on learning of the triple victory he had just won, and which completely shut off the town from any communication with the armies of Hodge and Wurmser, the garrison of Haguenau had evacuated the place during the night, had marched through the woods to Souffelnheim, and had crossed the Rhine as far up as Fort Vauban. Pichegru detached a thousand men under command of Liebler, and sent them to occupy Haguenau; then, retracing his steps, he took the road through Woerth, passed on to Pruschdorff, and slept that same night at Lobsam.
Stephan was directed to inform Hoche of this unexpected return, and to ask him to join with Pichegru in making still greater efforts to recapture the lines of Weissembourg.
The road reminded one of the invasions of the Huns, Vandals and Burgundians, when huge concourses of men swept from land to land. The Austrians, obliged to abandon the line of the Moder, fell back upon the lines of Weissembourg, before the Lauter, where they intended to give battle. They were under General Wurmser's command.
The Prussians, under command of Hodge, fell back upon Sauerbach. They crossed the river at Lembach, and effected a junction with the Austrians at Weissembourg.
But what seemed so strange in this retreat was that the army was followed by a swarm of royalists, consisting of Alsatian nobles, who, together with their families, accompanied the troops and shared their flight. The roads were filled with carriages, horses and wagons, all in confusion, through the midst of which the Republicans forced a passage, seemingly unconscious that they were mingling with a hostile population, which, when left behind, seemed to be following the very army from which it was in reality fleeing.
The two French generals effected a junction at Roth, and as they met, the soldiers shouted: "Long live the Republic!" The ranks opened, and the two representatives,Saint-Just and Lebas, appeared. It had occurred to them that, as the enemy might be in greater force at Weissembourg, their presence would be encouraging to the soldiers. Charles was the first to recognize the deputy from the Aisne, and cried: "Ah! there is citizen Saint-Just!"
Pichegru leaned toward him and said laughingly, "Do not tell him about the foraging-cap."
"Oh! indeed, no!" replied Charles, "ever since he told me that he had had his best friend shot I have distrusted him."
"You are right to do so."
Saint-Just came up to Pichegru and congratulated him in a few brief and trenchant words. Then, recognizing Charles, he said: "Ah! it seems that between the toga and arms you have chosen arms. Don't let him get killed, citizen Pichegru; he is a good boy, and bids fair to become a good man, a rare thing in these days." Then taking Pichegru aside, he said: "My police tell me—though I would not believe them—that you had an interview with an emissary from the Prince de Condé. I don't believe a word of it."
"It is true, nevertheless, citizen Saint-Just."
"What did he have to say?"
"He came to make me some treasonable propositions."
"What were they?"
"I do not know; my pipe had just gone out, so I lighted it again with the Prince de Condé's letter without taking the trouble to read it."
"And you had the messenger shot?"
"Indeed I did not."
"Why not?"
"If he had been dead, how could he tell his prince what I had done with his propositions?"
"Pichegru, you did not conceal some other motive beneath this clemency?"
"Yes, that of beating the enemy the next day at Froeschwiller; of taking Woerth the day following, and of forcing the lines to-day."
"Then you and Hoche are ready to march upon the enemy?"
"We are always ready, citizen representative, particularly when we are honored with your company."
"Then forward!" said Saint-Just; and he sent Lebas to direct Hoche to attack on his side. The drums and trumpets, sounded all along the line, and the army moved forward.
As chance would have it, that same day, the 22d of December, the Prussians and the Austrians had resolved to resume the offensive, and when the French army reached the top of a small eminence they found the enemy drawn up in line of battle from Weissembourg to the Rhine.
The position was a good one for offence but not for defence, for in the latter case the Lauter formed an abyss, and there was much danger of their being driven into it. When Pichegru and Hoche marched against them they found that the enemy was also on the march.
Supposing that the fiercest struggle would be in the centre, the generals massed thirty-five thousand men there, while three divisions of the Army of the Moselle threatened the right wing of the allies by the passes of the Vosges, and two divisions, commanded by one of General Broglie's aides-de-camp, advanced to the attack by way of Lauterbourg. The young aide-de-camp, whose name was Antoine Desaix, was scarcely twenty-seven years old.
Suddenly Saint-Just and Lebas, who were marching respectively in front of the columns of Pichegru and Hoche, called out: "Halt!"
They were not more than a cannon-shot from the enemy, and it was evident that the two armies would meet before another half hour.
"Citizen Pichegru," said Saint-Just, while Lebas said the same to Hoche, "call all your officers to the front; I have a communication to make to them before the battle begins."
Pichegru gave the necessary orders, which were repeatedall along the line by brigadier-generals, colonels, aides-de-camp, and captains.
The officers of every rank, even to the sub-lieutenants, gathered around Saint-Just and Pichegru on the right, and Hoche and Lebas on the left. This took up about ten minutes, during which the officers alone moved while the soldiers stood quietly waiting.
The Prussians and Austrians advanced nearer, and the Republicans began to hear their trumpets and drums beating and sounding the charge. Saint-Just drew a printed sheet from his pocket; it was the "Moniteur."
"Citizens," he said in his harsh voice, which was so powerful that it could be heard five hundred feet away, "before you attack I should like to tell you a piece of good news."
"What is it? What is it?" cried all the officers together.
Just then one of the enemy's batteries opened fire, and its projectiles found their victims in the French ranks. One of the officers had his head carried off by a ball, and fell at Saint-Just's feet, who, apparently oblivious of the fact, continued in the same tone: "The English are driven from Toulon, the infamous city. The tri-color flag floats over the ramparts. Here is the 'Moniteur,' which contains not only the official announcement, but also the details which I would read you if we were not under fire."
"Read them," said Pichegru.
"Read them, citizen representative of the people; read them!" cried all the officers.
The soldiers, in whose ranks the volley had plowed several furrows, looked impatiently at the group of officers. A second discharge was heard, and a second hurricane of fire whistled past. Other furrows were opened.
"Close the ranks," Pichegru cried to the soldiers.
"Close the ranks!" repeated the officers.
And the empty spaces disappeared.
In the middle of the circle a horse was lying dead beneath his rider. The officer disengaged his feet from thestirrups and drew nearer to Saint-Just in order to hear better.
Saint-Just read:
28th Frimaire of the Year II. of the Republic, one and indivisible;eleven of the evening.Citizen Dugommier to the National Convention:Citizen Representatives—Toulon is ours: Yesterday we took Fort Mulgrave and the Little Gibraltar.This morning the English evacuated the forts and burned the French fleet and the arsenal. The building where the masts were stored is on fire; twenty-six warships are burned, eleven of which are ships of the line, and six are frigates; fifteen are captured, and thirty-eight saved.At ten o'clock this evening Colonel Cervoni entered the town. To-morrow I will write more fully. Long live the Republic!
28th Frimaire of the Year II. of the Republic, one and indivisible;eleven of the evening.Citizen Dugommier to the National Convention:
Citizen Representatives—Toulon is ours: Yesterday we took Fort Mulgrave and the Little Gibraltar.
This morning the English evacuated the forts and burned the French fleet and the arsenal. The building where the masts were stored is on fire; twenty-six warships are burned, eleven of which are ships of the line, and six are frigates; fifteen are captured, and thirty-eight saved.
At ten o'clock this evening Colonel Cervoni entered the town. To-morrow I will write more fully. Long live the Republic!
"Long live the Republic!" cried the officers in turn.
"Long live the Republic!" repeated the centre and the right wing.
A third cannonade was heard and more than one shout of "Long live the Republic!" was begun and never finished.
"Now," continued Saint-Just, "here is a letter from our colleague Barras, who is charged with the punishment of Toulon; it is addressed to the National Convention:
Citizen Representatives—The greater part of the infamous inhabitants of Toulon have embarked on the ships of Hood and Sidney Smith, and consequently national justice cannot be administered as it ought to be. Fortunately they were unable to take their houses with them; the city remains to disappear beneath the vengeance of the Republic, like those accursed cities of antiquity, for which the eye searches in vain. At first it was thought best to destroy the city by blowing it up, but it would not do to risk firing the powder-magazines and the arsenal. It has therefore been decided that all the masons from the six neighboring departments shall be summoned hither with their tools, for a general and prompt demolition. With an army of twelve thousand masons the work will be accomplished speedily, and Toulon should be levelled to the ground within a fortnight.To-morrow the shooting of the traitors will begin, and will be continued until no more traitors remain to be shot.We salute you fraternally. Long live the Republic.
Citizen Representatives—The greater part of the infamous inhabitants of Toulon have embarked on the ships of Hood and Sidney Smith, and consequently national justice cannot be administered as it ought to be. Fortunately they were unable to take their houses with them; the city remains to disappear beneath the vengeance of the Republic, like those accursed cities of antiquity, for which the eye searches in vain. At first it was thought best to destroy the city by blowing it up, but it would not do to risk firing the powder-magazines and the arsenal. It has therefore been decided that all the masons from the six neighboring departments shall be summoned hither with their tools, for a general and prompt demolition. With an army of twelve thousand masons the work will be accomplished speedily, and Toulon should be levelled to the ground within a fortnight.
To-morrow the shooting of the traitors will begin, and will be continued until no more traitors remain to be shot.
We salute you fraternally. Long live the Republic.
The enemy still continued to advance; the rolling of drums, the blare of the trumpets, and from time to time, when the wind was favorable, the harmonious tones of music could be heard in the distance. But every sound was soon lost in the roar of the cannon; a storm of shot, thick as hail, fell upon the French ranks, the body of officers being especially singled out. Pichegru rose in his stirrups, and noticing a slight movement among the soldiers, shouted: "To your ranks!"
"To your ranks!" repeated the officers.
The lines reformed.
"Ground arms!" cried Pichegru.
Ten thousand muskets touched the earth at the same moment with admirable precision.
"Now," continued Saint-Just, "here is a communication from the Minister of War; it is addressed to me to be transmitted to Generals Pichegru and Hoche:
Citizen Representatives—I have received this letter from citizen Dutheuil, junior. "Toulon is in the hands of the Republic; the cowardice and perfidy of its enemies is complete. The artillery has served splendidly; we owe the victory to it alone. There is not a soldier who has not been a hero; the officers set the men the example. I cannot find words to praise Colonel Bonaparte sufficiently. Great knowledge of military science, keen intelligence, too great a tendency to expose himself—these form a feeble summary of the rare virtues of this rare officer. It is for you, minister, to retain him for the glory of the Republic."I have appointed Colonel Bonaparte a brigadier-general, and beg you to direct Generals Hoche and Pichegru to place his name upon the order of the day of the Army of the Rhine. I will show the like honor to the brave man whose name they send me, who shall have been the first to cross the lines at Weissembourg.
Citizen Representatives—I have received this letter from citizen Dutheuil, junior. "Toulon is in the hands of the Republic; the cowardice and perfidy of its enemies is complete. The artillery has served splendidly; we owe the victory to it alone. There is not a soldier who has not been a hero; the officers set the men the example. I cannot find words to praise Colonel Bonaparte sufficiently. Great knowledge of military science, keen intelligence, too great a tendency to expose himself—these form a feeble summary of the rare virtues of this rare officer. It is for you, minister, to retain him for the glory of the Republic."
I have appointed Colonel Bonaparte a brigadier-general, and beg you to direct Generals Hoche and Pichegru to place his name upon the order of the day of the Army of the Rhine. I will show the like honor to the brave man whose name they send me, who shall have been the first to cross the lines at Weissembourg.
"You hear, citizens," said Pichegru, "Colonel Bonaparte's name is on the order of the day. Let each one return to his post and repeat this name to the soldiers. Now that the English are beaten, down with the Prussians and the Austrians! Forward! Long live the Republic!"
The name of Bonaparte, which had sprung so gloriously into prominence, ran from rank to rank; an immense shout of "Long live the Republic!" burst from forty thousand throats; the drums beat the charge, the trumpets sounded, the bands played the "Marseillaise," and the whole army, so long restrained, dashed upon the enemy.
The object of the campaign, to recapture the lines of Weissembourg, had been accomplished; the enemy had been driven from France in the North and in the South, at Toulon and at Landau, in the space of ten days. The soldiers were therefore enabled to enjoy a much needed rest; besides they had found stores of cloth, shoes, food and forage at Guermesheim, at Kaiserlauten, and at Landau; a single store at Kaiserlautern having supplied them with one thousand woollen comforters. The time had therefore come for Pichegru to keep his promises.
Estève's accounts had been rendered, and the twenty-five thousand francs, deposited to the credit of the battalion of the Indre with the general, had been increased by twelve hundred, the price of the two cannon which the battalion had captured. This sum of twenty-six thousand two hundred francs was enormous, for it was all in gold; and the gold louis at that time was worth seven hundred and twelve francs in paper money.
The general sent for Faraud and the two soldiers who had accompanied him each time that he had come as ambassador from the battalion. The three appeared, Faraudwith his sergeant-major's stripes, and one of the others with corporal's stripes, which he had earned since his first interview with the general.
"Here I am, general," said Faraud; "and here are my two comrades, Corporal Groseiller and Comrade Vincent."
"You are all three welcome."
"You are very kind, general," said Faraud, with the twist of the neck which was peculiar to him.
"You know that a sum of twenty-five thousand francs has been allotted for the widows and orphans of the dead of the battalion of the Indre."
"Yes, general," replied Faraud.
"To which sum the battalion has added another twelve hundred francs."
"Yes, general. And by the same token, it was an idiot named Faraud who was carrying it in his handkerchief and who let it fall for sheer joy on hearing that he had been made a sergeant-major."
"Will you give me your word that he will not do it again?"
"Word of a sergeant-major! not even if you should make him a colonel."
"We have not got as far as that yet."
"So much the worse, general."
"But still I am going to promote you."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Again?"
"I am going to make you paymaster."
"In place of citizen Estève?" said Faraud, with his peculiar twist of the head. "Thanks, general, the place is a good one."
"No, not quite that," said Pichegru, smiling at the fraternal familiarity which makes the strength of the army, and which the Revolution introduced into that of the Republic.
"Too bad," said Faraud.
"I appoint you paymaster in the department of the Indre to the extent of twenty-six thousand and two hundred francs. In other words, I charge you and your two comrades, whose conduct has given me satisfaction, to divide the sum among the families whose names you will find there." And the general gave Faraud a list.
"Ah! general," said Faraud, "that is indeed a reward! What a pity that they have done away with the good God!"
"Why so?"
"Because the prayers of these good folks would have taken us straight to heaven."
"Well," said Pichegru, "it is probable that when you are ready to go there, there will be a restoration. And now how will you go?"
"Where, general?"
"To the Indre. There are a good many departments to cross before you get there."
"On foot, general; that will take time, though."
"I wanted to hear you say that, brave hearts that you are! Here, this is the money for your expenses, nine hundred francs in all—three hundred for each of you."
"We could go to the end of the world with that."
"But you must not stop at every tavern for a drink."
"We shall stop nowhere."
"Nowhere?"
"No. I shall take the Goddess of Reason with me."
"Then we will have to add three hundred francs for the Goddess of Reason. Here is a draft on citizen Estève."
"Thanks, general; and when must we start?"
"As soon as possible."
"To-day?"
"Well, go, my brave fellows; but at the first shot—"
"You will find us at our posts, general."
"Good, and now go tell them to send citizen Falou to me."
"He will be here in five minutes."
The three messengers bowed and went out. Five minutes later, citizen Falou presented himself, wearing the general's sword at his side with great dignity.
Since the general had seen him his face had undergone a change. A gash, beginning at the ear and extending to his upper lip, had cut open his right cheek; the flesh was held in place by strips of plaster.
"Ah!" said Pichegru, "it looks as if your defence had come rather late."
"That's not it, general," replied Falou; "but they were three to my one; and before I had time to kill the other two, the third had given me this razor-cut. It's nothing; it would be healed already if we had had any wind. Unfortunately the weather is damp."
"Well, upon my honor, I am not sorry that it has happened to you."
"Thanks, general; a fine scar like that does not harm a chasseur's face."
"That was not what I meant."
"What then?"
"It will give me an excuse to send you away."
"Say, general, no jokes; it is not a final dismissal?"
"No, a fortnight's furlough."
"What for?"
"To go and see Mother Falou."
"Ah, yes, the poor old woman; that's so."
"Have you not your back-pay to carry her?"
"Ah! general, you have no idea of the quantity of brandy compresses that I had to put on this wound! It is like a mouth, it drinks and drinks, you have no idea how much."
"In other words your pay is almost gone?"
"Worse than my sword was when you were good enough to give me this one."
"Then I will do for your pay what I did for your sword."
"Will you give me more?"
"Oh! the Prince de Condé will pay the piper!"
"Gold! Ah, what a pity that the poor old mother cannot see it again; it would remind her of the times when there was plenty of gold!"
"She will see enough to sew the new quartermaster's stripes on your coat, which the Prussians have already sewed on your face."
"Quartermaster, general? Am I a quartermaster?"
"That is the rank which they have put upon your leave of absence."
"Faith, yes; there it is, every letter of it!" said Falou.
"Get ready to start."
"To-day?"
"To-day."
"On foot or on horseback?"
"In a carriage."
"In a carriage? Am I to go in a carriage?"
"A post-chaise."
"Like the king's dogs when they go to the hunt! And may I know why I am to have this honor?"
"My secretary, Charles, who is going to Besançon, will take you with him, and will bring you back again."
"General," said Falou, bringing his heels together and saluting, "it only remains for me to thank you."
Pichegru acknowledged the salute with a wave of his hand and a nod. Falou turned upon his heel and went out.
"Charles! Charles!" called Pichegru.
A door opened, and Charles, who was in an adjoining room, hurried in. "Here I am, general," he said.
"Do you know where Abatucci is?"
"With us, general. He is doing the account that you asked for."
"Will he have it finished before long?"
"It is finished, general," said Abatucci, appearing with the paper in his hand.
Charles was about to go away, but the general caught him by the wrist. "Wait," said he, "I wish to speak to you." Then he said to Abatucci, "How many flags?"
"Five, general."
"Cannons?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Prisoners?"
"Three thousand."
"How many of the enemy killed?"
"Fully seven thousand."
"How many did we lose?"
"Scarcely twenty-five hundred."
"You will go to Paris with the rank of colonel, which I shall ask the government to confirm. You will present the five flags to the Convention in the names of General Hoche and myself, and you will take with you the report that General Hoche is preparing. Estève will give you a thousand francs to cover your expenses. My choice of you to carry the captured flags to the Convention, as well as the rank I have just bestowed upon you, proves my esteem for your courage and ability. If you see your cousin Bonaparte remind him of the fact that I was his tutor at Brienne."
Abatucci pressed the hand which the general held out to him, saluted, and retired.
"And now we are by ourselves, little Charles!" said Pichegru.
Pichegru glanced around the room to make sure that they were alone, and then, lowering his voice, he said: "Charles, my dear child, you have made a sacred promise in the sight of heaven which you must keep. If there is in this world a promise which should be kept inviolate above all others, it is one that has been made to a dying man. I have told you that I would give you themeans to fulfil it, and I now keep my word. You still have the count's foraging-cap?" Charles unbuttoned his coat and showed the general the cap.
"Good! I shall send you to Besançon with Falou. You will go with him to the little village of Boussières, and will give the burgomaster the money intended for his mother; and, as I do not wish that any one should think that this is pillage money, which they certainly would if her son gave it to her himself, I desire that the burgomaster shall hand it to her himself. A letter from me will moreover remain in the village, bearing witness to our new quartermaster's courage. I give you and Falou eight days' leave from the time you reach Besançon; you will doubtless want to show your new uniform."
"And will you give me nothing for my father?"
"A letter when you are ready to start."
Just then Leblanc announced that dinner was ready.
On entering the dining-room the general cast an anxious glance at the table; it was full, and more than full, Pichegru having invited Desaix to dine with him. The latter had brought with him one of his friends who was in Pichegru's army, and whom he had made his aide-de-camp, René Savary, the same who had written Faraud's certificate upon his corporal's stripes. The dinner was as lively as usual, all the officers of the staff being present; only two or three were wounded and those very slightly. After dinner they mounted their horses, and the general, with his entire staff, visited the outposts.
When they returned to the town, the general dismounted and told Charles to do the same; and, giving the two horses to the chasseur in attendance, he told Charles to accompany him to the streets where the shops were located.
"Charles, my boy," he said, "in addition to the official and secret missions with which you are charged, I should like to give you a special one. Will you accept it?"
"Gladly, general," said Charles, clinging to Pichegru's arm. "What is it?"
"I don't know yet. I have a friend at Besançon named Rose; she lives in the Rue Collombier, No. 7."
"Ah!" exclaimed Charles, "I know her, she is our family seamstress. She is a kind-hearted woman about thirty, who limps a little."
"Exactly," said Pichegru, smiling. "The other day she sent me six fine linen shirts which she had made herself. I should like to send her something in return."
"That is a good idea, general."
"But what shall I send? I do not know what would please her."
"Take the advice that the weather itself gives you—buy her a good umbrella. We will use it on the way home. Then I will tell her that you have used it, and it will be all the more precious to her."
"You are right; it will be most useful to her when she goes out. Poor Rose, she has no carriage. Let us go in here."
They were just opposite an umbrella-shop. Pichegru opened and shut ten or twelve, finally selecting a magnificent sky-blue one. He paid thirty-eight francs in paper money at par for it. This was the gift which the first general of the Republic sent to his best friend. The reader will readily understand that I should not have related this incident if it were not historic.
When they returned at night, Pichegru busied himself with his correspondence, telling Charles, who was to start the next day, to sleep well.
It was on this evening that the curious occurrence which I am about to relate took place. It was told to me by little Charles himself, after he had grown to be a man of forty-five, and had become a learned writer, with the great library he had wished for so many years before.
Charles, obeying Saint-Just's decree, threw himself upon his bed all dressed. Like all who wore the uniform, he customarily had a black cravat tied tight around his neck. It was like that which Pichegru himself wore, andwhich all the staff had adopted; in the first place, out of compliment to the general, and, secondly, in protest against Saint-Just's voluminous neckpieces. Charles, in order to copy the general more exactly, tied his in a little knot on the left side—a fashion which he continued to follow until his death.
Half an hour later, Pichegru, who was working, heard Charles moan. At first he paid no attention to it, thinking that the boy was dreaming; but as the groans became more pronounced, and changed to a rattling in the throat, Pichegru rose, went to the boy, whom he found lying face down, raised his head after slipping his hand under his neck, and untied the knot which was strangling him.
The boy awoke, and, recognizing Pichegru, who was bending over him, asked: "Is it you, general; do you need me?"
"No," replied the general, laughing, "it is you, on the contrary, who needed me. You were uneasy and groaned, and when I came to look at you I had no difficulty in finding what was the matter with you. Any one who wears a tight cravat like us must take care to loosen it a little before going to sleep. I will explain to you some other time how neglect of this precaution might cause apoplexy and sudden death. It is one method of suicide."
And we shall see that it was the one which Pichegru adopted later.
On the next day Abatucci started for Paris, Faraud and his two comrades for Châteauroux, and Charles and Falou for Besançon. A fortnight later Faraud sent word that distribution had been made throughout the Department of the Indre.
The general had already received a letter from Abatucci, written ten days after his departure, telling how he had presented the five flags to the President amid cries of "Long live the Republic!" from all the members of the Convention and the spectators, adding that the President had thereupon confirmed his rank.
Finally, on the fourth day after Charles's departure, before he heard from any one else, Pichegru received the following letter on the 14th Nivôse (3d of January):
My dear General—The new calendar made me forget one thing, that, by reaching Besançon on the 31st of December, I should be able to wish all my family a happy New Year on the following day.You, however, did not forget it, and my father feels grateful to you for your kindness and thanks you heartily.On the 1st of January (old style), after we had wished one another a happy new year, and had embraced each other, Falou and I set out for the village of Boussières. There, as you had directed, we stopped the carriage at the burgomaster's house to whom your letter was addressed; he forthwith summoned the village drummer who announces all important news to the people. He directed him to read your letter over three times so that no mistake should be made, and then he sent him to beat his drum before old Mother Falou's door, who, at the first tap, came to the threshold leaning on her stick. Falou and I were only a few steps away.As soon as the roll ceased the proclamation began. When she heard her son's name the poor old woman, who had not understood very well, began to cry, asking: "Is he dead? Is he dead?"An oath, big enough to crack the sky, made her turn, and then, seeing the uniform dimly, she cried: "There he is! There he is!"And then she fell into her son's arms, and he embraced her amid the applause of the whole village. Thereupon, as the proclamation, which had been interrupted by this little scene, had not been fully understood, it was begun all over again. As the drummer read the last sentence, the burgomaster, who wished to make his little sensation, came forward with a wreath in one hand and the purse in the other. He put the laurel-wreath on Falou's head and the purse in his mother's hand. I could not stay any longer, but I heard later that the village of Boussières had a celebration that day with illuminations, a ball, and fireworks, and that Falou went about among his fellow citizens with his laurel-wreath on his head, like Cæsar, until two o'clock in the morning.As for me, general, I returned to Besançon to carry outthe sad duty which you know about, and of which I will tell you the full particulars when I see you again.Not until then did I find time to attend to your commission; but after that I hastened to the Rue Collombier, No. 7, and went up to the third floor. Rose recognized me and received me as a little friend; but when she knew that I came from her great friend, then I tell you, general, poor Rose could not say enough. She took me in her arms, kissed me, and wept over me."What! did he really think of me?""Yes, Mademoiselle Rose.""Of his own accord?""I assure you that it is so.""And did he choose this beautiful umbrella himself?""He himself.""And he used it when he returned to the hotel?""Well, we both used it, but he held it."Without another word she looked at the handle, kissed it and wept over it. I did not try to check her tears, but wept with her; they were tears of joy, and it would have pained her had I said: "Stop!" Then I told her how satisfied you were with the shirts she had sent you and that you would wear no others. This made her all the worse. Then how we did talk about you! She is going to write you herself and thank you, but she bade me say all sorts of kind things to you from her.I must also say in regard to my father that you must have told him some pretty stories in regard to his son, for while he was reading he looked at me queerly, and I noticed that his eyes were wet. Like Mademoiselle Rose, he will write to you.I fear that I have taken more of your time than I deserve; but you have made an important personage of me by intrusting me with three commissions, and so I hope you will pardon this chatter from your little friend.Charles Nodier.
My dear General—The new calendar made me forget one thing, that, by reaching Besançon on the 31st of December, I should be able to wish all my family a happy New Year on the following day.
You, however, did not forget it, and my father feels grateful to you for your kindness and thanks you heartily.
On the 1st of January (old style), after we had wished one another a happy new year, and had embraced each other, Falou and I set out for the village of Boussières. There, as you had directed, we stopped the carriage at the burgomaster's house to whom your letter was addressed; he forthwith summoned the village drummer who announces all important news to the people. He directed him to read your letter over three times so that no mistake should be made, and then he sent him to beat his drum before old Mother Falou's door, who, at the first tap, came to the threshold leaning on her stick. Falou and I were only a few steps away.
As soon as the roll ceased the proclamation began. When she heard her son's name the poor old woman, who had not understood very well, began to cry, asking: "Is he dead? Is he dead?"
An oath, big enough to crack the sky, made her turn, and then, seeing the uniform dimly, she cried: "There he is! There he is!"
And then she fell into her son's arms, and he embraced her amid the applause of the whole village. Thereupon, as the proclamation, which had been interrupted by this little scene, had not been fully understood, it was begun all over again. As the drummer read the last sentence, the burgomaster, who wished to make his little sensation, came forward with a wreath in one hand and the purse in the other. He put the laurel-wreath on Falou's head and the purse in his mother's hand. I could not stay any longer, but I heard later that the village of Boussières had a celebration that day with illuminations, a ball, and fireworks, and that Falou went about among his fellow citizens with his laurel-wreath on his head, like Cæsar, until two o'clock in the morning.
As for me, general, I returned to Besançon to carry outthe sad duty which you know about, and of which I will tell you the full particulars when I see you again.
Not until then did I find time to attend to your commission; but after that I hastened to the Rue Collombier, No. 7, and went up to the third floor. Rose recognized me and received me as a little friend; but when she knew that I came from her great friend, then I tell you, general, poor Rose could not say enough. She took me in her arms, kissed me, and wept over me.
"What! did he really think of me?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle Rose."
"Of his own accord?"
"I assure you that it is so."
"And did he choose this beautiful umbrella himself?"
"He himself."
"And he used it when he returned to the hotel?"
"Well, we both used it, but he held it."
Without another word she looked at the handle, kissed it and wept over it. I did not try to check her tears, but wept with her; they were tears of joy, and it would have pained her had I said: "Stop!" Then I told her how satisfied you were with the shirts she had sent you and that you would wear no others. This made her all the worse. Then how we did talk about you! She is going to write you herself and thank you, but she bade me say all sorts of kind things to you from her.
I must also say in regard to my father that you must have told him some pretty stories in regard to his son, for while he was reading he looked at me queerly, and I noticed that his eyes were wet. Like Mademoiselle Rose, he will write to you.
I fear that I have taken more of your time than I deserve; but you have made an important personage of me by intrusting me with three commissions, and so I hope you will pardon this chatter from your little friend.
Charles Nodier.
Nearly two years have elapsed since the events recorded in our first volume. In order that our readers may clearly understand those which are to follow we must take a rapid bird's-eye view of the two terrible though inevitable years of 1794 and 1795.
As Vergniaud, and after him Pichegru, had prophesied, the Revolution had devoured her own children. Let us watch the terrible harpy at her work.
On the 5th of April, 1795, the Cordeliers were executed. Danton, Camille Desmoulins, Bazire, Chabot, Lacroix, Hérault de Sechelles, and the poet-martyr Fabre d'Eglantine, author of the most popular of our popular songs, "Il pleut, il pleut, bergère," died together on the same scaffold whither Robespierre, Saint-Just, Merlin (of Douai), Couthon, Collot d'Herbois, Fouché (of Nantes) and Vadier sent them.
Then came the Jacobins turn. Vadier, Tallien, Billaud and Fréron accused Robespierre of having usurped the dictatorship; and Robespierre, his jaw shattered by a pistol-ball, Saint-Just, with lofty countenance, Couthon, both of whose legs had been crushed, Lebas—in short their friends to the number of twenty-two—were executed on the day following the tumultuous one which is known in history as the fatal day of the 9th Thermidor.
On the 10th Thermidor the Revolution was still alive, because the Revolution was immortal, and no rise or fallof parties could kill it. The Revolution still lived, though the Republic was dead. With Robespierre and Saint-Just the Republic was beheaded. On the evening of their execution, the boys were shouting at the doors of the theatres, "Carriages? Who wants a carriage? Want a carriage, bourgeois?" On the next day and the day after that eighty-two Jacobins followed Robespierre, Saint-Just and their friends to the Place de la Revolution.
Pichegru, who was then commander-in-chief of the Army of the North, learned of this bloody reaction. He saw that the hour for blood had passed and the time for filth had come, with Vadier, Tallien, Billaud and Fréron. He sent privately to Mulheim, and Fauche-Borel, the prince's messenger, hastened to him.
Pichegru divined correctly that the ascending period of the Revolution was past. The reactionary or descending period had arrived; blood was still to be shed, but it was the blood of reprisals.
On the 17th of May the hall of the Jacobins—the cradle of the Revolution, the strength of the Republic—was finally closed by a decree. Fouquier-Tinville, the public prosecutor, the colleague of the executioner's knife, who was no more guilty than it, since he simply obeyed the orders of the Revolutionary Tribunal as the knife obeyed his own—Fouquier-Tinville was executed, together with fifteen judges of the Revolutionary Tribunal. In order to make the reaction complete the execution took place on the Place de Grève. M. Guillotin's ingenious invention resumed its former place, but the gallows had disappeared—equality in death was decreed.
On the 1st Prairial, Paris discovered that it was starving. Famine drove the inhabitants of the faubourgs to the Convention. Haggard, in tatters, and famished, they invaded the chamber, and the deputy Féraud was killed in trying to defend the president, Boissy d'Anglas. Seeing the confusion which this event brought about in the Convention, Boissy d'Anglas put on his hat. Then theyshowed him Féraud's head on the end of a pike, whereupon he took off his hat, bowed reverently, and put it on again. But during that performance, Boissy d'Anglas, who had sympathized largely with the Revolution, almost became converted to royalism.
On the 16th of the same month, Louis Charles of France, Duc de Normandie, pretender to the throne under the name of Louis XVII., he of whom the Duc d'Orléans said at a supper: "The son of the Duc de Coigny shall never be my king!" died of scrofula at the Temple, at the age of ten years two months and twelve days. But even in the times of the Republic the old axiom of the French monarchy survived: "The king is dead, long live the king!" and at once Louis de Provence proclaimed himself, on his own private authority, king of France and Navarre, under the title of Louis XVIII.
Then came the terrible day of Quiberon, during which, according to Pitt, "English blood did not flow," and, according to Sheridan, "English honor streamed from every pore."
Meantime the victories of Hoche and Pichegru had borne fruit. In consequence of the recovery of the lines of Weissembourg, at which our readers were present, when the tri-color flag was seen triumphantly waving in the hands of Saint-Just as he crossed the frontier, and floated victoriously over Bavaria, Frederick William, who had been the first to invade French territory, recognized the French Republic and made peace with it. Having captured no territory from each other, the two powers had nothing to restore. But eighty thousand slept on the plains of Alsace and Champagne, and the terrible strife had begun which neither Jena nor Leipsic was to terminate.
Meantime the army of the Eastern Pyrenees had invaded Biscay, Vittoria, and Bilbao. Already master of that part of the frontier to which access was most difficult, the French, whom their last victories had brought to the neighborhood, of Pampeluna, were in a position to capturethe capital of Navarre, and open an easy road to the two kingdoms of Castile and that of Aragon. Whereupon the king of Spain made proposals of peace.
This was the second crowned head which had recognized the existence of the French Republic; and in recognizing it, the king tacitly condoned what he no doubt regarded as the murder of Louis XVI. and Marie-Antoinette.
The peace was signed. Before the necessities of war, family ties ceased to be considered. France abandoned her conquests beyond the Pyrenees, and Spain ceded to France her possessions on the island of Saint-Domingo. But, as we have just said, it is not from the standpoint of material accessions that the question of peace with Spain must be considered. No! the question was a moral one.
This the reader will already have understood. This defection of Charles IV. from the royal cause was an immense step, and one that was far more important than that taken by Frederick William. Frederick William was not bound in any way to the Bourbons of France, while, in signing the peace with the Republic, the Spanish king ratified all the decrees of the Convention.
Meantime the Army of the North, which was engaged with the Austrians, took Ypres and Charleroi, won the battle of Fleurus, recaptured Landrecies, occupied Namur and Treves, reconquered Valenciennes, and took Crève-Cœur, Ulrich, Gorcomm, Amsterdam, Dordrecht, Rotterdam, and The Hague. At last an unheard-of thing happened—something which had never been seen before, and which until then had been absent from the picturesque annals of French warfare; the Dutch men-of-war, frozen in the ice, were captured by a regiment of hussars. This strange feat of arms, which seemed to be a caprice of Providence in behalf of the French, led to the capitulation of Zealand.