"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