Until morning he was undisturbed. The Austrian commander, feeling assured that the garrison had been informed of his movements, and was prepared to receive him, saw that he could not surprise the post as he had hoped to do, and deemed it prudent to wait till daylight before making his attack. At sunrise, the Austrian commander called on the garrison to surrender. A grenadier answered the summons. "Say to your commander," he said, in reply to the messenger, "that the garrison will defend this pass to the last extremity." The officer who had borne the flag of truce retired, and in about ten minutes a piece of artillery was brought into the pass. In order to bear upon the tower, it had to be placed directly in front, and within easy musket range of it. Scarcely was it got into position when a rapid fire was opened on it from the tower; and this was continued with such marked effect that the gun was withdrawn after the second discharge, with a loss of five men. This was a bad beginning; so, half an hour after the gun was withdrawn, the Austrian colonel ordered an assault. As the troops entered the defile, they were received with so rapid and accurate a fire, that, when they had passed over half the distance they had to traverse, they had lost fifteen men. Disheartened by this, they returned to the mouth of the pass. Three more assaults were repulsed in this manner, and the enemy by sunset had lost forty-five men, of whom ten were killed. The firing from the tower had been rapid and accurate, but the Austrian commander noticed this peculiarity about it— every shot seemed to come from the same place. For a while this perplexed him, but at last he came to the conclusion that there were a number of loop-holes close together in the tower, so constructed as to command the ravine perfectly. At sunset the last assault was made and repulsed, and at dark the Austrian commander sent a second summons to the garrison. This time the answer was favorable. The garrison offered to surrender at sunrise next morning, if allowed to march out with their arms and return to the army unmolested. some hesitation the terms were accepted. After Meantime the French soldier had passed an anxious day in the tower. He had opened the fight with thirty loaded muskets. He had fired with great rapidity, yet with surprising accuracy-for it was well known in the army that he never threw away a shot. He had determined to stand to his post until he had accomplished his object, which was to hold the place twenty-four hours, in order to give the French army time to complete its maneuver. After that he knew the pass would be of no consequence to the enemy. The next day at sunrise the Austrian troops lined the pass in two files extending from the mouth of the ravine to the tower, leaving a space between them for the garrison to pass out. The heavy door of the tower opened slowly, and in a few minutes a bronzed and scarred grenadier, literally laden with muskets, came out and passed down the line of troops. He walked with difficulty under his heavy load. To the surprise of the Austrians no one followed him from the tower. In astonishment the Austrian colonel rode up to him, and asked in French why the garrison did not come out. "I am the garrison, Colonel," said the soldier proudly. "What!" exclaimed the colonel, "do you mean to tell me that you alone have held that tower against me?" "I have the honor, Colonel," was the reply. "What possessed you, that you made such an attempt, Grenadier?" "The honor of France was at stake." The colonel gazed at him for a moment with undisguised admiration. Then, raising his cap, he said warmly: "Gren adier, I salute you. You have proved yourself the bravest of the brave." The officer caused all the arms which La Tour d'Auvergne could not carry to be collected, and sent them with the grenadier into the French lines, together with a note relating the whole affair. When the circumstance came to the knowledge of Napoleon he offered to promote La Tour; but the latter preferred to remain a grenadier. The brave soldier met his death in an action in June, 1800, and the simple and expressive scene at roll-call in his regiment was commenced and continued by command of the Emperor. -Author Unknown Words: regiment-in European armies from twenty-five hundred to three thousand men; sergeant-an officer of low rank; divisionnine regiments; defile-narrow pass; extremity-the greatest possible effort; maneuver a military movement to accomplish a purpose without direct fighting. Questions: What story in poetry does this prose story recall? Which one do you prefer? THE SOLDIER'S DREAM (Many poems have been written of war-its glories, its dangers, its sufferings. This poem brings us in beautiful form the heartsick longing for home that many soldiers endure. The yearning for home becomes so intense that the soldier visits his loved ones in dreams. What a strong sense of duty and patriotism a man must have to give up the comforts and delights of home to go to war!) UR bugles sang truce; for the night cloud had lowered, OUR sang trusters And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered- When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamed it again. Methought from the battlefield's dreadful array, To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; Then pledged we the wine cup, and fondly I swore And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. "Stay, stay with us!-rest; thou art weary and worn!" But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, -Thomas Campbell Words: traversed-traveled; fain-glad. Questions: Explain the first and second lines of the second stanza. Do you recall a poem studied last year that was written by Thomas Campbell? Pleasure Reading: Thacher's The Listening Child, pp. 168-180 SOLDIER, REST! (This selection is taken from The Lady of the Lake, Sir Walter Scott's best-known long poem. If you want to enjoy a stirring story dressed in beautiful verse, read the entire poem for yourself.) OLDIER, rest! thy warfare o'er, SOL Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battlefields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing.° Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more: No rude sound shall reach thine ear, At the daybreak from the fallow, Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not, with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille.° |