If one of these men should have been too closely engaged in the English lines, the first farm he comes to offers him an asylum. His rifle is thrust under a plank in the flooring, his horse turned out to graze, the white flag floats over the house, and Her Majesty has no more inoffensive subject than my Burgher--for the next twenty-four hours.
If need be, when the English authority is too near, an old gun--I once saw a flintlock--will be handed to him in sign of submission, and the oath of neutrality taken.
This explains the enormous number of arms that have been given up, while the Burghers have retained their good Mausers and Martini-Henrys, and still use them.
But as soon as the English, pleased at a fresh submission, have gone off, the rifle--the good one this time--is brought out, the horse stealthily mounted, and the Burgher is abroad once more.
The dispersions are merely momentary, and very often a rallying-point among the hills has been fixed on in advance. Eight days later the commando, concentrating again, appears on the scene with some unexpected stroke. This kind of thing may go on for a long time.
'Egaillez-vous, les gas!' was the cry of the Vendéen chiefs; and it is this manoeuvre, and the rally which follows it, that regular troops cannot execute.
This kind of warfare is obviously very painful and fatiguing for the invader. But it is a purely defensive method, and cannot have any decisive success, unless the invading army should give up the struggle.
For which side does Fortune reserve her final favours? It is certain that the English are weary, very weary, and that they have been so for some time.
Ten months ago, at the beginning of January, a soldier of the 2nd West Yorkshire Regiment wrote with mournful resignation:
'We shall all be thankful when this war is over, and this horrible butchery at an end!'