Page:Once a Week June to Dec 1863.pdf/637

19, 1863.] further advance by a desperate charge of the bayonet, then slowly to retreat.

But the German mind, generally, takes a long time in making up, and before the worthy Prussians had accomplished the task, help came to them from an unexpected quarter, as the sequel will show.

When the alerte was beaten in the town before Von Dörnberg’s advance, the inhabitants hastily closed their shops and houses, and took up safe positions. Their hearts beating with mingled fear and hope, they heard the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry come nearer and nearer,—bullets struck into the walls and roofs, bricks and tiles began to fall, rockets hurtled past, troops thronged into the town.

A tradesman in the main thoroughfare allowed several of his neighbours to take refuge in the vaulted cellar under his shop. Among these were a widow named Stegen and her daughter Johanna. The latter is described as a girl of twenty-two,—tall, strong, and active; of fair complexion, with handsome features, and the auburn hair that appears seamed with threads of gold. Like most of her countrywomen Johanna was an ardent patriot and a vehement enemy to the French; but, unlike others of her sex, she was an utter stranger to fear. She had intended joining the Jägers, disguised in men’s clothes, upon the previous day, and had gained her mother’s consent; but the widow had lost several sons in the war, and her heart failed her when the time came.

Had Johanna Stegen carried out her intention, she would have done no more than other German women in that stirring time.

History tells of a girl of twenty one from Potsdam, Eleonora Prochaska, who joined the Lützow regiment of foot in the name of Renz, and fell bravely lighting in September 1813, in an engagement on the Göhrde. Dorothea Sawosch entered the West Prussian Landwehr cavalry, exchanged into the infantry after a fall from her horse, and served in its ranks until the close of the war. Charlotte Krüger fought in the Kolberg regiment, and gained promotion as a non-commissioned officer. A lady, known subsequently as Frau Scheinemann, served with Hellwig’s Hussars throughout the War of Liberation. A native of Stralsund, the wife of a ship-captain, made the campaign under the name of Karl Petersen, became a sergeant, was twice wounded, and decorated with the Iron Cross of the first class.

Unable, as she thought, to participate actively in the defence of Lüneburg, Johanna’s whole heart went out towards her countrymen and their allies. As soon as the tumult of the conflict in the streets had in some degree subsided, she left the trembling women in the cellar, and posted herself at a window in the shop-door to observe the progress of the fight. Presently came a squadron of Russian hussars at full gallop round the corner of the street in pursuit of the flying French. They were guided by a sturdy butcher of Lüneburg on horseback, armed with a reeking sabre. The hussars were followed by Cossacks. Johanna could remain inactive no longer. Seizing a jug of “schnapps” and a glass, she mounted on a bench before the door, and distributed the welcome refreshment to officers and men.

The cavalry passed, but return to her friends after the excitement of the scene was impossible to Johanna. All ideas of personal danger and timidity were swallowed up in the strength of her desire to see the discomfiture of the foe. So on, past signs of disorder and flight, past cast-away arms and portions of uniforms, past wounded and dying men, writhing in agony and shrieking for water, past heaps of slain in all imaginable attitudes, past the corpse of the Saxon private who was quartered in her mother’s house, and who had breakfasted gaily with them in the morning.

As Johanna approached the New Gate, the firing showed her the engagement was still in progress. To observe it the better, she made for a slight elevation on the left, called the Kalkberg (lime-hill) within the barriers of the town. Upon her way hither she passed two men in a dry ditch prising off the heads of a number of barrels in the hope of booty. In its stead they find cartridges, and eke they swear. French cartridges, reported universally to contain poisoned bullets. The men abandoned their discovery in disgust, and the girl pursued her way. Upon the Kalkberg she found a veteran who had served in the Seven Years’ War, and was now living in Lüneburg. The old man lent Johanna his field-glass, and explained to her the object of the manœuvres they beheld. They saw Morand’s flying troops halted and led back to attack the New Gate; followed its gallant defence with lively interest; noticed with apprehension the Prussian fire slacken, and the French massing for assault. The veteran communicated to Johanna his fear that ammunition was growing short, and finding the tide of battle begin to roll towards the Kalkberg, descended from his post and advised Johanna to make the best of her way home.

Slowly and unwillingly the girl retraced her steps through a side street towards the New Gate, but had not gone far before she noticed an old man of her acquaintance sitting upon an ammunition-waggon abandoned during the French retreat.

“Why, Müller, what are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“Been looking for something good, my girl,” was the reply. “Find nothing but cartridges.”

Cartridges! The word strikes out a thought, as flint brings sparks from steel. The very thing needed to carry on the fight. A supply here; a store in the barrels in the ditch; our men short of ammunition, retreating, beaten! Now to afford them help.

“Quick, Müller!” cried Johanna. “Fill my apron with cartridges. I’ve plenty more in front. Our men are coming that way. Oh! victory shall be ours yet!”

Fired by her enthusiasm, the old man tremulously filled Johanna’s apron with the precious load. The brave girl grasped the corners of the garment in her teeth, and hurried away to empty it near the barrels. Again and again, with glowing eyes and rapid feet, she hastened upon her devoted task. Meantime the fight