The Invasion of France in 1814
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Erckmann-Chatrian. The Invasion of France in 1814
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
CHAPTER I. THE OLD SHOEMAKER AND HIS DAUGHTER
CHAPTER II. THE SHOEMAKER'S VISITOR
CHAPTER III. AT PHALSBOURG
CHAPTER IV. MADAME LEFÈVRE
CHAPTER V. THE DEPOT
CHAPTER VI. AMONG THE MOUNTAINEERS
CHAPTER VII. RISING OF THE PARTISANS
CHAPTER VIII. THE LEADER
CHAPTER IX. THE CONSCRIPT
CHAPTER X. ROBIN'S VISION
CHAPTER XI. A RECONNOISSANCE
CHAPTER XII. THE LANDLORD OF THE "PINEAPPLE"
CHAPTER XIII. ROUND THE WATCHFIRES
CHAPTER XIV "FORWARD! FORWARD!"
CHAPTER XV. THE BATTLE RENEWED
CHAPTER XVI. PAINFUL SCENES
CHAPTER XVII. ROUND THE FESTIVE BOARD
CHAPTER XVIII. THE CAVE OF LUITPRANDT
CHAPTER XIX. GASPARD'S LETTER
CHAPTER XX. THE SURPRISE
CHAPTER XXI "ALL IS LOST"
CHAPTER XXII. ON THE FALKENSTEIN
CHAPTER XXIII. MARC DIVÈS'S MISSION
CHAPTER XXIV. A FLAG OF TRUCE
CHAPTER XXV "BATTLE OF THE ROCKS"
CHAPTER XXVI. CONCLUSION
Отрывок из книги
If you would wish to know the history of the great invasion of 1814, such as it was related to me by the old hunter Frantz du Hengst, you must transport yourself to the village of Charmes, in the Vosges. About thirty small houses, covered with shingles and dark-green houseleeks, stand in rows along the banks of the Sarre: you can see the gables carpeted with ivy and withered honeysuckles, for winter is approaching; the beehives closed with corks of straw, the small gardens, the palings, the hedges which separate them one from the other.
To the left, on a high mountain, arise the ruins of the ancient château of Falkenstein, destroyed two hundred years ago by the Swedes. It is now only a mass of stones and brambles; an old "timber-way," with its worn-out steps, ascends to it through the pine-trees. To the right, on the side of the hill, one can perceive the farm of Bois-de-Chênes – a large building, with granaries, stables, and sheds, the flat roof loaded with great stones, in order to resist the north wind. A few cows are grazing in the heather, a few goats on the rocks.
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"Oh, how he frightened me!" said Louise.
"Come, come, my child, calm thyself. He is gone. He thinks thou art pretty, fool though he is; do not let that terrify thee."
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