The Great Invasion of 1813-14; or, After Leipzig: Being a story of the entry of the allied forces into Alsace and Lorraine, and their march upon Paris after the Battle of Leipzig, called the Battle of the Kings and NationsErckmann-Chatrian
History
The Great Invasion of 1813-14; or, After Leipzig: Being a story of the entry of the allied forces into Alsace and Lorraine, and their march upon Paris after the Battle of Leipzig, called the Battle of the Kings and Nations
Erckmann-Chatrian
France -- History -- Invasion of 1814 -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
The next day Jean-Claude repaired betimes to Dagsburg, to consult with
his friend Labarbe, the wood-cutter. They went together to visit the
neighbouring hamlets, to try and inspire every heart with the love of
their country; and the day following, Labarbe accompanied Hullin to
the house of the Anabaptist, Christ-Nickel, the farmer of Painbach, a
respectable and very sensible man, but whom they could not succeed in
winning over to their glorious enterprise. Christ-Nickel had but one
reply to every observation:
"It is right, it is just; but the Gospel says, 'Put up thy sword in
its place; he who slays with the sword shall perish by the sword.'" He
promised them, however, his best wishes for the good cause; this was
all they could obtain.
They went from thence to Walsch, to exchange firm hand-grips with
Daniel Hirsch, an old naval gunner, who promised them his support, and
that of all the people of his commonalty. At this place Labarbe left
Jean-Claude to continue his way alone. For a whole week longer he did
nothing but work his way to and from the mountain, from Soldatenthal
to Léonsberg, to Meienthâl, to Abreschwiller, Voyer, Loëttenbach,
Cirey, Petit-Mont, Saint-Sauveur, and on the ninth day he found himself
at the house of the shoemaker, Jerôme, at Saint-Quirin. Together they
visited the defile of the Blanru, after which Hullin, satisfied with
his journey and its results, at length took his way back to the village.
He had proceeded for about two hours at a steady pace, picturing
to himself camp life, the bivouac, the attack, the marches and
countermarches, all the episodes in a soldier's life which filled
him with enthusiasm, when afar off, still at a great distance, he
discovered in the pale twilight the hamlet of Charmes, and his own
little modest tenement, from the chimney of which rose a wreath of
smoke so thin as to be almost imperceptible, the little gardens
surrounded with wooden palings, the shingly roofs, and, to the left,
the large farm of Bois-de-Chênes, with the sawpit of the Valtin at the
other end half-hidden in the already dark ravine.
Then, suddenly, and without knowing why, a deep sadness fell upon him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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