The Young Franc Tireurs, and Their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War

By far the larger proportion of those who joined were either proprietors, or the sons of proprietors, in and around Dijon. At that time Government had made no arrangement, whatever, concerning franc tireurs; and no pay was, therefore, available. The invitation was, therefore, especially to those willing and able to go out upon their own account, and at their own expense. Other recruits had been invited but, as these could join the regular forces and receive pay, and other advantages, the number who sent in their names was small. The men who did so were, for the most part, picked men; foresters, wood cutters, and others who preferred the certainty of active and stirring service, among the franc tireurs, to the pay and comparative monotony of the regular service. There were some forty of these men among the corps, the rest being all able to provide at least their outfit. Subscriptions had come in rapidly and, in a week, an ample sum was collected to arm and equip all those not able to do so for themselves; and to form a military chest sufficient to pay for the food of the whole corps, in the field, for some time.

When the list of volunteers was complete, a meeting was held at which, for the first time, the future comrades met. Besides Ralph and Percy, and their cousins, there were six or eight others of their school friends, all lads of about sixteen. It was an important moment in their lives, when they then felt themselves–if not actually men–at least, as going to do the work of men. Upon the table in the room in which the meeting was held was a document, which each in turn was to sign and, behind this, Captain Tempe took his seat.

As many of those present knew each other, there was a considerable buzz and talk in the room, until Captain Tempe tapped the table for silence, and then rose to speak.

"My friends," he began, "–for I cannot call you comrades, until you have formally entered your names–before you irrevocably commit yourselves to this affair, I wish you each to know exactly what it is that we are going to do. This will be no holiday expedition. I can promise all who go with me plenty of excitement, and a great deal of fighting; but I can also promise them, with equal certainty, an immense deal of suffering–an amount of hardship and privation of which, at present, few here have any idea, whatever. The winter is fast coming on, and winter in the Vosges mountains is no trifle. Let no one, then, put down his name here who is not prepared to suffer every hardship which it is well possible to suffer.

"As to the danger, I say nothing. You are Frenchmen; and have come forward to die, if needs be, for your country."

Here the speaker was interrupted by loud cheering, and cries of "Vive la France!"

"Next, as to discipline. This is an extremely important point. In our absence from military stations, it is essential that we, ourselves, should keep and enforce the strictest discipline. I have this morning received from General Palikao–under whom I served, for many years–an answer to an application I wrote to him, a week since. He highly approves of my plan of cutting the roads behind the Prussians, and only wishes that he had a hundred small corps out upon the same errand. He has already received other proposals of the same nature. He enclosed, with his letter, my formal appointment as Commandant of the Corps of Franc Tireurs of Dijon; with full military authority, and power."

Great cheering again broke out.

"This power, in case of need, I warn you that I shall use unhesitatingly. Discipline, in a corps like ours, is everything. There must be no murmuring, under hardships; no hesitation in obeying any order, however unpleasant. Prompt, willing, cheerful obedience when at work; a warm friendship, and perfect good fellowship at other times: this is my programme."

The speaker was again interrupted with hearty cheering.

"I intend to divide the corps into four companies, each of thirty men. Each company will have an officer; and will, at times, act independently of each other. I have deliberated whether it is best to allow each company to choose its own officer, or whether to nominate them myself. I have determined to adopt the latter course. You can hardly be such good judges, as to the qualities required by officers during an expedition like the present, as I am; and as I know every man here, and as I shall have the opportunity of seeing more of each man, during the three weeks which we shall spend here upon drill, I shall then choose an officer for each company; but I will leave it to each company to decide whether to accept my choice, or not. There may be points in a man's character which may make him unpopular.

"Now, as to drill. We have three weeks before us. Not long enough to make men good soldiers; but amply sufficient–with hard work–to make them good skirmishers. I have already arranged with four men who have served as non-commissioned officers in the army, one of whom will take each company.

"Captain Barclay–who is well known to most of you–has kindly offered to give musketry instruction, for four hours each morning. Ten men of each company will go, each morning for a week, to drill at the range; so that, in three weeks, each man will have had a week's instruction. The hours will be from seven to eleven. The others will drill during the same hours.

"All will drill together, in the afternoon, from three to six. The officer commanding the troops, here, has promised us the loan of a hundred and twenty old guns, which are in store; and also of twenty chassepots for rifle practice.

"That is all I have to say. All who are ready and willing to enter, upon these terms, can now sign their names. Those who are not perfectly sure of their own willingness can draw back, before it is too late."

When the cheering ceased, each man came forward and signed his name.

"The first parade will take place, at seven tomorrow morning, in the Place d'Armes. A suit of uniform, complete, will be exhibited here at twelve o'clock. A man has offered to supply them, at contract prices; but any who prefer it can have it made by their own tailor.

"Now, good night, boys."

"Vive les franc tireurs du Dijon!"

"Vive la France!" and, with a cheer, the men separated.

The next morning the corps met, and were divided into companies. The division was alphabetical, and the young Barclays and Duburgs were all in the first company. This was a matter of great pleasure to them, as they had been afraid that they might have been separated.

The following day, drill began in earnest and, accustomed as the boys were to exercise, they found seven hours a day hard work of it. Still, they felt it very much less than many of the young men who, for years, had done little but lounge in cafes, or stroll at the promenade. All, however, stuck to their work and, as their hearts were in it, it was surprising how quickly they picked up the rudiments of drill. Fortunately, they were not required to learn anything beyond the management of their firearms, the simplest movements, and the duty of skirmishers; as all complicated maneuvers would have been useless, in a small corps whose duties would be confined entirely to skirmishing.

With this branch of their work, Captain Tempe was determined that they should be thoroughly acquainted, and they were taught how to use cover of all kinds with advantage; how to defend a building, crenelate a wall, fell trees to form an obstacle across roads, or a breastwork in front of them; and how to throw themselves into square, rapidly, to repel cavalry.

Captain Barclay was indefatigable as a musketry instructor and, with the aid of a few friends, got up a subscription which was spent in a number of small prizes, so as to give the men as much interest as possible in their work. Captain Tempe impressed most strenuously, upon the men, the extreme importance of proficiency in shooting; as it was upon the accuracy and deadliness of their fire that they would have to rely, to enable them to contend with superior forces in the combats they would have to go through; and each man would probably have frequently to depend, for his life, upon the accuracy of his fire.

The original plan–of instructing a third of the men, each week, in musketry–was abandoned; and the parties were changed each day, in order to enable all to advance at an equal rate. Besides, their ammunition was supplied; so that those who chose to do so could practice shooting, for their own amusement, between their morning and afternoon drill.

The Barclays were constant in their attendance at the shooting ground; and the steady hand and eye which cricket, fencing, and other exercises had given them now stood them in good stead for, by the end of the time, they became as good marksmen as any in the corps. They still lived at home, as did all those members of the corps whose residences were in and around Dijon. For those who lived too far away to come in and out every day to drill, a large empty barn was taken, and fitted up as a temporary barracks.

The time did not pass away without great excitement for, as the end of August drew on, everyone was watching, in deep anxiety, for the news of a battle near Chalons–where MacMahon had been organizing a fresh army. Then came the news that the camp at Chalons was broken up, and that MacMahon was marching to the relief of Bazaine. Two or three days of anxious expectation followed; and then–on the 3rd of September–came the news, through Switzerland, of the utter defeat and surrender of the French army, at Sedan.

At first, the news seemed too terrible to be true. People seemed stunned at the thought of a hundred thousand Frenchmen laying down their arms. Two days later came the news of the revolution in Paris. This excited various emotions among the people; but the prevailing idea seemed to be that–now there was a republic–past disasters would be retrieved.

"What do you think of the news, papa?" the boys asked as, drill over, they hurried up to talk the matter over with their father.

"With any other people, I should consider it to be the most unfortunate event which could have possibly occurred," Captain Barclay said. "A change of Government–involving a change of officials throughout all the departments, and a perfect upset of the whole machinery of organization–appears little short of insanity. At the same time, it is possible that it may arouse such a burst of national enthusiasm that the resistance which, as far as the civil population is concerned, has as yet been contemptible–in fact, has not been attempted at all–may become of so obstinate and desperate a character that the Prussians may be fairly wearied out.

"There is scarcely any hope of future victories in the field. Raw levies, however plucky, can be no match for such troops as the Prussians, in the open. The only hope is in masses of franc tireurs upon the rear and flanks of the enemy. Every bridge, every wood, every village should be defended to the death. In this way the Prussians would only hold the ground they stand on; and it would be absolutely impossible for them to feed their immense armies, or to bring up their siege materiel against Paris.

"The spirit to do this may possibly be excited by the revolution; otherwise, France is lost. Success alone can excuse it; for a more senseless, more unjustifiable, more shameful revolution was, in my mind, never made. It has been effected purely by the Radicals and roughs of Paris–the men who have, for years, been advocating a war with Prussia; and who, a month ago, were screaming 'To Berlin.' For these men to turn round upon the Emperor in his misfortune and, without consulting the rest of France, to effect a revolution, is in my mind simply infamous.

"Even regarded as a matter of policy, it is bad in the extreme. Austria, Italy, and Russia–to say nothing of England–would, sooner or later, have interfered in favor of an established empire; but their sympathies will be chilled by this revolution. The democratic party in all these countries may exult, but the extreme democratic party do not hold the reins of power anywhere; and their monarchs will certainly not feel called upon to assist to establish a republic.

"Prussia herself–intensely aristocratic in her institutions–will probably refuse to treat, altogether, with the schemers who have seized the power; for the King of Prussia is perhaps the greatest hater of democracy in Europe.

"Still, boys, these changes make no difference in your duty. You are fighting for France, not for an empire or a republic and, as long as France resists, it is your duty to continue. In fact, it is now more than ever the duty of you, and of every Frenchman, to fight. Her army is entirely gone; and it is simply upon the pluck and energy of her population that she has to trust."

"Do you think Paris will hold out, papa?"

"She is sure to do so, boys. She has made the revolution, and she is bound to defend it. I know Paris well. The fortifications are far too strong to be taken by a sudden attack, and it will be a long time before the Prussians can bring up a siege train. Paris will only be starved out and, if her people are only half as brave as they are turbulent, they ought to render it impossible for the Prussians to blockade such an immense circle. At any rate, France has two months; perhaps much longer, but two months ought to be quite enough, if her people have but spirit to surround the enemy, to cut off his supplies, and to force him to retreat."

The next morning, when the corps assembled for drill, Captain Tempe addressed them on the subject of the events in Paris. He told them that, whether they approved or disapproved of what had taken place there, their duty as Frenchmen was plain. For the present they were not politicians, but patriots; and he hoped that not a word of politics would be spoken in the corps, but that everyone would give his whole thought, his whole strength and, if must be, his life in the cause of France.

His address was greatly applauded, and gave immense satisfaction to the men; for already differences of opinion were becoming manifest among them. Some had exulted loudly at the downfall of Napoleon; others had said little, but their gloomy looks had testified sufficiently what were their opinions; while many among the gentlemen in the corps, especially those belonging to old families, were well known to be attached either to a Legitimist or Orleanist Prince. The proposal, therefore, that no politics should be discussed during the war, but that all should remember only that they were fighting for France, gave great satisfaction; and promised a continuance of the good fellowship which had hitherto reigned in the corps.

It was a great day when, a fortnight from its first organization, the corps turned out for the first time in their uniforms. The band of the national guard headed them, as they marched down the high street of Dijon to the parade ground; and–as the spectators cheered, the ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and the whole corps joined in cheers, to the stirring notes of the Marseillaise–the young Barclays felt their cheeks flush, their hands tighten upon their rifles, and their hearts beat with a fierce longing to be face to face with the hated Prussians.

A day or two after this, the Snider rifles ordered from England by Captain Barclay arrived; and although the men at first preferred the chassepots, with which they were familiar, they were soon accustomed to the new weapons; and readily acknowledged the advantage which–as their commander pointed out to them–the dark-brown barrels possessed, for skirmishers, over the bright barrels of the chassepots which, with the sun shining upon them, would betray them to an enemy miles away.

A day or two afterwards, as Ralph and Percy were returning in the evening from drill, they heard a great tumult in the streets. They hurried forward to see what was the matter, and found an excited crowd shouting and gesticulating.

"Death to the spy!"

"Death to the spy!"

"Hang him!"

"Kill the dog!" were the shouts, and two gendarmes in the center of the crowd were vainly trying to protect a man who was walking between them. He was a tall, powerful-looking man; but it was impossible to see what he was like, for the blood was streaming down his forehead, from a blow he had just received.

Just as the boys came up, another blow from a stick fell on his head; and this served to rouse him to desperation, for he turned round, with one blow knocked down the fellow who had struck him, and then commenced a furious attack upon his persecutors. For a moment they drew back, and then closed upon him again. Blows from sticks and hands rained upon him, but he struggled desperately. At last, overwhelmed by numbers, he fell; and as he did so he raised a wild shout, "Hurroo for ould Ireland."

"He is an Englishman, Percy," Ralph exclaimed; "he is not a Prussian, at all. Come on!

"Here, Louis, Philippe, help; they are killing an Englishman."

Followed by their cousins–who had just arrived at the spot–the boys made a rush through the crowd; and arrived in another moment by the prostrate man, whom his assailants were kicking savagely. The rush of the four boys–aided by the butt-end of their rifles, which they used freely on the ribs of those who stood in their way–cleared off the assailants for an instant; and the two gendarmes–who had been hustled away–drawing their swords, again took their place by the side of their insensible prisoner.