Told in gallant deeds

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

You may know that the beautiful provinces or counties of Alsace and of Lorraine were the heavy price France paid for her defeat at Germany’s hands in 1870. But these two provinces always remained French at heart, and their possession by Germany was like an open wound in France’s side. Small wonder, therefore, that when war was declared the first thought of the French Government was, unwisely and imprudently as many people now think, to throw an army into Alsace.

The rapture with which the people there welcomed the French advance was changed into terror when the fortunes of war brought about a temporary retreat. The Germans hate these Alsatians, and cruel was the vengeance they took on them. One terrible example of their revenge aroused deep feelings of pain and horror all over the world, the more so that they actually boasted of the act in the following words:

“The German column was passing along a woody defile, when a little French lad (Französling) belonging to one of those gymnastic societies which wear tricolour ribbons (i.e. the Eclaireurs, or Boy Scouts), was caught and asked whether the French were about. He refused to give any information. Fifty yards further on a battery suddenly opened fire from the cover of a wood. The lad was asked in French if he had known that the enemy was in the wood. He did not deny it. Then walking with firm steps to a telegraph post he stood up against it, with a green vineyard at his back, and received the volley of the firing party with a proud smile on his face. Infatuated wretch! It was a pity to see such wasted courage!”

But we know that his courage was not wasted, and that by their ill-advised recital of that little boy’s heroism, the Germans inspired innumerable Frenchmen, and Frenchwomen too, to show themselves even braver and more fearless for love of country than they might otherwise have done.

It was near a town called Nancy that there took place a touching incident two days after the outbreak of war.

A French detachment came into contact with German troops; soon the Germans retired, leaving behind them a young wounded officer. The French soldiers picked him up, and behaved, as I am glad to say our allies always do behave to their wounded enemy, not only with mercy but with kindness. He was, however, dying, and his last words were, “Thank you, gentlemen. I have done my duty. I have served my country, as you are serving yours.”

This young officer was Lieutenant Baron von Marschall, son of the late Baron Marschall von Bieberstein, who for a few months was German Ambassador in London. He had been, till a few days before the declaration of war, a happy and popular Rhodes Scholar at Oxford.

Duty must have been one of Nelson’s favourite words, for not only did he signal the word in his immortal message, “England expects every man to do his duty,” but the last words he ever spoke were, “I have done my duty; I praise God for it.” The French have some fine sayings concerning duty. Of these the oldest and the finest is, “Fais le droit, advienne que pourra.” “Do thy duty whatever may happen.”

It was in Lorraine that Georges André—one of France’s most famous runners, who is also a Rugby Internationalist, and scored against both England and Ireland in last season’s matches—won the Médaille Militaire (the French Victoria Cross). André, with his company, was surrounded by a large German detachment in a small village. They fought like lions, and he himself at last captured the enemy’s standard, regaining the French lines under a hail of bullets.

We have seen how the German Commander on the fall of Liège handed General Leman back his sword. Much about the same time that this was occurring in Belgium, a similar incident, on a humbler scale, was happening in Alsace.