The Downfall - Part 28
Library

Part 28

But Delaherche, who was just then replying to the fond questions of his wife and mother, was in no haste to answer.

"Wait, wait a moment." And resuming his narrative: "Twenty times between Bazeilles and Balan I just missed being killed. It was a storm, a regular hurricane, of shot and sh.e.l.l! And I saw the Emperor, too. Oh!

but he is a brave man!--And after leaving Balan I ran--"

Henriette shook him by the arm.

"My husband?"

"Weiss? why, he stayed behind there, Weiss did."

"What do you mean, behind there?"

"Why, yes; he picked up the musket of a dead soldier, and is fighting away with the best of them."

"He is fighting, you say?--and why?"

"He must be out of his head, I think. He would not come with me, and of course I had to leave him."

Henriette gazed at him fixedly, with wide-dilated eyes. For a moment no one spoke; then in a calm voice she declared her resolution.

"It is well; I will go to him."

What, she, go to him? But it was impossible, it was preposterous!

Delaherche had more to say of his hurricane of shot and sh.e.l.l. Gilberte seized her by the wrists to detain her, while Madame Delaherche used all her persuasive powers to convince her of the folly of the mad undertaking. In the same gentle, determined tone she repeated:

"It is useless; I will go to him."

She would only wait to adjust upon her head the lace scarf that Gilberte had been wearing and which the latter insisted she should accept. In the hope that his offer might cause her to abandon her resolve Delaherche declared that he would go with her at least as far as the Balan gate, but just then he caught sight of the sentry, who, in all the turmoil and confusion of the time, had been pacing uninterruptedly up and down before the building that contained the treasure chests of the 7th corps, and suddenly he remembered, was alarmed, went to give a look and a.s.sure himself that the millions were there still. In the meantime Henriette had reached the portico and was about to pa.s.s out into the street.

"Wait for me, won't you? Upon my word, you are as mad as your husband!"

Another ambulance had driven up, moreover, and they had to wait to let it pa.s.s in. It was smaller than the other, having but two wheels, and the two men whom it contained, both severely wounded, rested on stretchers placed upon the floor. The first one whom the attendants took out, using the most tender precaution, had one hand broken and his side torn by a splinter of sh.e.l.l; he was a ma.s.s of bleeding flesh. The second had his left leg shattered; and Bouroche, giving orders to extend the latter on one of the oil-cloth-covered mattresses, proceeded forthwith to operate on him, surrounded by the staring, pushing crowd of dressers and a.s.sistants. Madame Delaherche and Gilberte were seated near the gra.s.s-plot, employed in rolling bandages.

In the street outside Delaherche had caught up with Henriette.

"Come, my dear Madame Weiss, abandon this foolhardy undertaking. How can you expect to find Weiss in all that confusion? Most likely he is no longer there by this time; he is probably making his way home through the fields. I a.s.sure you that Bazeilles is inaccessible."

But she did not even listen to him, only increasing her speed, and had now entered the Rue de Menil, her shortest way to the Balan gate. It was nearly nine o'clock, and Sedan no longer wore the forbidding, funereal aspect of the morning, when it awoke to grope and shudder amid the despair and gloom of its black fog. The shadows of the houses were sharply defined upon the pavement in the bright sunlight, the streets were filled with an excited, anxious throng, through which orderlies and staff officers were constantly pushing their way at a gallop. The chief centers of attraction were the straggling soldiers who, even at this early hour of the day, had begun to stream into the city, minus arms and equipments, some of them slightly wounded, others in an extreme condition of nervous excitation, shouting and gesticulating like lunatics. And yet the place would have had very much its every-day aspect, had it not been for the tight-closed shutters of the shops, the lifeless house-fronts, where not a blind was open. Then there was the cannonade, that never-ceasing cannonade, beneath which earth and rocks, walls and foundations, even to the very slates upon the roofs, shook and trembled.

What between the damage that his reputation as a man of bravery and politeness would inevitably suffer should he desert Henriette in her time of trouble, and his disinclination to again face the iron hail on the Bazeilles road, Delaherche was certainly in a very unpleasant predicament. Just as they reached the Balan gate a bevy of mounted officers, returning to the city, suddenly came riding up, and they were parted. There was a dense crowd of people around the gate, waiting for news. It was all in vain that he ran this way and that, looking for the young woman in the throng; she must have been beyond the walls by that time, speeding along the road, and pocketing his gallantry for use on some future occasion, he said to himself aloud:

"Very well, so much the worse for her; it was too idiotic."

Then the manufacturer strolled about the city, bourgeois-like desirous to lose no portion of the spectacle, and at the same time tormented by a constantly increasing feeling of anxiety. How was it all to end?

and would not the city suffer heavily should the army be defeated? The questions were hard ones to answer; he could not give a satisfactory solution to the conundrum when so much depended on circ.u.mstances, but none the less he was beginning to feel very uneasy for his factory and house in the Rue Maqua, whence he had already taken the precaution to remove his securities and valuables and bury them in a place of safety.

He dropped in at the Hotel de Ville, found the Munic.i.p.al Council sitting in permanent session, and loitered away a couple of hours there without hearing any fresh news, unless that affairs outside the walls were beginning to look very threatening. The army, under the pushing and hauling process, pushed back to the rear by General Ducrot during the hour and a half while the command was in his hands, hauled forward to the front again by de Wimpffen, his successor, knew not where to yield obedience, and the entire lack of plan and competent leadership, the incomprehensible vacillation, the abandonment of positions only to retake them again at terrible cost of life, all these things could not fail to end in ruin and disaster.

From there Delaherche pushed forward to the Sous-Prefecture to ascertain whether the Emperor had returned yet from the field of battle. The only tidings he gleaned here were of Marshal MacMahon, who was said to be resting comfortably, his wound, which was not dangerous, having been dressed by a surgeon. About eleven o'clock, however, as he was again going the rounds, his progress was arrested for a moment in the Grande-Rue, opposite the Hotel de l'Europe, by a sorry cavalcade of dust-stained hors.e.m.e.n, whose jaded nags were moving at a walk, and at their head he recognized the Emperor, who was returning after having spent four hours on the battle-field. It was plain that death would have nothing to do with him. The big drops of anguish had washed the rouge from off those painted cheeks, the waxed mustache had lost its stiffness and drooped over the mouth, and in that ashen face, in those dim eyes, was the stupor of one in his last agony. One of the officers alighted in front of the hotel and proceeded to give some friends, who were collected there, an account of their route, from la Moncelle to Givonne, up the entire length of the little valley among the soldiers of the 1st corps, who had already been pressed back by the Saxons across the little stream to the right bank; and they had returned by the sunken road of the Fond de Givonne, which was even then in such an enc.u.mbered condition that had the Emperor desired to make his way to the front again he would have found the greatest difficulty in doing so. Besides, what would it have availed?

As Delaherche was drinking in these particulars with greedy ears a loud explosion shook the quarter. It was a sh.e.l.l, which had demolished a chimney in the Rue Sainte-Barbe, near the citadel. There was a general rush and scramble; men swore and women shrieked. He had flattened himself against the wall, when another explosion broke the windows in a house not far away. The consequences would be dreadful if they should sh.e.l.l Sedan; he made his way back to the Rue Maqua on a keen run, and was seized by such an imperious desire to learn the truth that he did not pause below stairs, but hurried to the roof, where there was a terrace that commanded a view of the city and its environs.

A glance of the situation served to rea.s.sure him; the German fire was not directed against the city; the batteries at Frenois and la Marfee were sh.e.l.ling the Plateau de l'Algerie over the roofs of the houses, and now that his alarm had subsided he could even watch with a certain degree of admiration the flight of the projectiles as they sailed over Sedan in a wide, majestic curve, leaving behind them a faint trail of smoke upon the air, like gigantic birds, invisible to mortal eye and to be traced only by the gray plumage shed by their pinions. At first it seemed to him quite evident that what damage had been done so far was the result of random practice by the Prussian gunners: they were not bombarding the city yet; then, upon further consideration, he was of opinion that their firing was intended as a response to the ineffectual fire of the few guns mounted on the fortifications of the place. Turning to the north he looked down from his position upon the extended and complex system of defenses of the citadel, the frowning curtains black with age, the green expanses of the turfed glacis, the stern bastions that reared their heads at geometrically accurate angles, prominent among them the three cyclopean salients, the Ecossais, the Grand Jardin, and la Rochette, while further to the west, in extension of the line, were Fort Na.s.sau and Fort Palatinat, above the faubourg of Menil. The sight produced in him a melancholy impression of immensity and futility.

Of what avail were they now against the powerful modern guns with their immense range? Besides, the works were not manned; cannon, ammunition, men were wanting. Some three weeks previously the governor had invited the citizens to organize and form a National Guard, and these volunteers were now doing duty as gunners; and thus it was that there were three guns in service at Palatinat, while at the Porte de Paris there may have been a half dozen. As they had only seven or eight rounds to each gun, however, the men husbanded their ammunition, limiting themselves to a shot every half hour, and that only as a sort of salve to their self-respect, for none of their missiles reached the enemy; all were lost in the meadows opposite them. Hence the enemy's batteries, disdainful of such small game, contemptuously pitched a sh.e.l.l at them from time to time, out of charity, as it were.

Those batteries over across the river were objects of great interest to Delaherche. He was eagerly scanning the heights of la Marfee with his naked eye, when all at once he thought of the spy-gla.s.s with which he sometimes amused himself by watching the doings of his neighbors from the terrace. He ran downstairs and got it, returned and placed it in position, and as he was slowly sweeping the horizon and trees, fields, houses came within his range of vision, he lighted on that group of uniforms, at the angle of a pine wood, over the main battery at Frenois, of which Weiss had caught a glimpse from Bazeilles. To him, however, thanks to the excellence of his gla.s.s, it would have been no difficult matter to count the number of officers of the staff, so distinctly he made them out. Some of them were reclining carelessly on the gra.s.s, others were conversing in little groups, and in front of them all stood a solitary figure, a spare, well-proportioned man to appearances, in an unostentatious uniform, who yet a.s.serted in some indefinable way his masterhood. It was the Prussian King, scarce half finger high, one of those miniature leaden toys that afford children such delight. Although he was not certain of this ident.i.ty until later on the manufacturer found himself, by reason of some inexplicable attraction, constantly returning to that diminutive puppet, whose face, scarce larger than a pin's head, was but a pale point against the immense blue sky.

It was not midday yet, and since nine o'clock the master had been watching the movements, inexorable as fate, of his armies. Onward, ever onward, they swept, by roads traced for them in advance, completing the circle, slowly but surely closing in and enveloping Sedan in their living wall of men and guns. The army on his left, that had come up across the level plain of Donchery, was debouching still from the pa.s.s of Saint-Albert and, leaving Saint-Menges in its rear, was beginning to show its heads of columns at Fleigneux; and, in the rear of the XIth corps, then sharply engaged with General Douay's force, he could discern the Vth corps, availing itself of the shelter of the woods and advancing stealthily on Illy, while battery upon battery came wheeling into position, an ever-lengthening line of thundering guns, until the horizon was an unbroken ring of fire. On the right the army was now in undisputed possession of the valley of the Givonne; the XIIth corps had taken la Moncelle, the Guards had forced the pa.s.sage of the stream at Daigny, compelling General Ducrot to seek the protection of the wood of la Garenne, and were pushing up the right bank, likewise in full march upon the plateau of Illy. Their task was almost done; one effort more, and up there at the north, among those barren fields, on the very verge of the dark forests of the Ardennes, the Crown Prince of Prussia would join hands with the Crown Prince of Saxony. To the south of Sedan the village of Bazeilles was lost to sight in the dense smoke of its burning houses, in the clouds of dun vapor that rose above the furious conflict.

And tranquilly, ever since the morning, the King had been watching and waiting. An hour yet, two hours, it might be three, it mattered not; it was only a question of time. Wheel and pinion, cog and lever, were working in harmony, the great engine of destruction was in motion, and soon would have run its course. In the center of the immense horizon, beneath the deep vault of sunlit sky, the bounds of the battlefield were ever becoming narrower, the black swarms were converging, closing in on doomed Sedan. There were fiery reflexions in the windows of the city; to the left, in the direction of the Faubourg de la Ca.s.sine, it seemed as if a house was burning. And outside the circle of flame and smoke, in the fields no longer trodden by armed men, over by Donchery, over by Carignan, peace, warm and luminous, lay upon the land; the bright waters of the Meuse, the l.u.s.ty trees rejoicing in their strength, the broad, verdant meadows, the fertile, well-kept farms, all rested peacefully beneath the fervid noonday sun.

Turning to his staff, the King briefly called for information upon some point. It was the royal will to direct each move on the gigantic chessboard; to hold in the hollow of his hand the hosts who looked to him for guidance. At his left, a flock of swallows, affrighted by the noise of the cannonade, rose high in air, wheeled, and vanished in the south.

IV.

Between the city and Balan, Henriette got over the ground at a good, round pace. It was not yet nine o'clock; the broad footpath, bordered by gardens and pretty cottages, was as yet comparatively free, although as she approached the village it began to be more and more obstructed by flying citizens and moving troops. When she saw a great surge of the human tide advancing on her she hugged the walls and house-fronts, and by dint of address and perseverance slipped through, somehow. The fold of black lace that half concealed her fair hair and small, pale face, the sober gown that enveloped her slight form, made her an inconspicuous object among the throng; she went her way unnoticed by the by-pa.s.sers, and nothing r.e.t.a.r.ded her light, silent steps.

At Balan, however, she found the road blocked by a regiment of infanterie de marine. It was a compact ma.s.s of men, drawn up under the tall trees that concealed them from the enemy's observation, awaiting orders. She raised herself on tiptoe, and could not see the end; still, she made herself as small as she could and attempted to worm her way through. The men shoved her with their elbows, and the b.u.t.ts of their muskets made acquaintance with her ribs; when she had advanced a dozen paces there was a chorus of shouts and angry protests. A captain turned on her and roughly cried:

"Hi, there, you woman! are you crazy? Where are you going?"

"I am going to Bazeilles."

"What, to Bazeilles?"

There was a shout of laughter. The soldiers pointed at her with their fingers; she was the object of their witticisms. The captain, also, greatly amused by the incident, had to have his joke.

"You should take us along with you, my little dear, if you are going to Bazeilles. We were there a short while ago, and I am in hope that we shall go back there, but I can tell you that the temperature of the place is none too cool."

"I am going to Bazeilles to look for my husband," Henriette declared, in her gentle voice, while her blue eyes shone with undiminished resolution.

The laughter ceased; an old sergeant extricated her from the crowd that had collected around her, and forced her to retrace her steps.

"My poor child, you see it is impossible to get through. Bazeilles is no place for you. You will find your husband by and by. Come, listen to reason!"

She had to obey, and stood aside beneath the trees, raising herself on her toes at every moment to peer before her, firm in her resolve to continue her journey as soon as she should be allowed to pa.s.s. She learned the condition of affairs from the conversation that went on around her. Some officers were criticising with great acerbity the order for the abandonment of Bazeilles, which had occurred at a quarter-past eight, at the time when General Ducrot, taking over the command from the marshal, had considered it best to concentrate the troops on the plateau of Illy. What made matters worse was, that the valley of the Givonne having fallen into the hands of the Germans through the premature retirement of the 1st corps, the 12th corps, which was even then sustaining a vigorous attack in front, was overlapped on its left flank.

Now that General de Wimpffen had relieved General Ducrot, it seemed that the original plan was to be carried out. Orders had been received to retake Bazeilles at every cost, and drive the Bavarians into the Meuse.

And so, in the ranks of that regiment that had been halted there in full retreat at the entrance of the village and ordered to resume the offensive, there was much bitter feeling, and angry words were rife.

Was ever such stupidity heard of? to make them abandon a position, and immediately tell them to turn round and retake it from the enemy! They were willing enough to risk their life in the cause, but no one cared to throw it away for nothing!

A body of mounted men dashed up the street and General de Wimpffen appeared among them, and raising himself erect on his stirrups, with flashing eyes, he shouted, in ringing tones:

"Friends, we cannot retreat; it would be ruin to us all. And if we do have to retreat, it shall be on Carignan, and not on Mezieres. But we shall be victorious! You beat the enemy this morning; you will beat them again!"

He galloped off on a road that conducted to la Moncelle. It was said that there had been a violent altercation between him and General Ducrot, each upholding his own plan, and decrying the plan of the other--one a.s.serting that retreat by way of Mezieres had been impracticable all that morning; the other predicting that, unless they fell back on Illy, the army would be surrounded before night. And there was a great deal of bitter recrimination, each taxing the other with ignorance of the country and of the situation of the troops. The pity of it was that both were right.

But Henriette, meantime, had made an encounter that caused her to forget her project for a moment. In some poor outcasts; stranded by the wayside, she had recognized a family of honest weavers from Bazeilles, father, mother, and three little girls, of whom the largest was only nine years old. They were utterly disheartened and forlorn, and so weary and footsore that they could go no further, and had thrown themselves down at the foot of a wall.