e that
boded no good for the future was that those elected were rabid adherents
of one or another party. And what Paris was watching and praying for
in that interval of repose was the grand sortie that was to bring
them victory and deliverance. As it had always been, so it was now;
confidence reigned everywhere: they would drive the Prussians from their
position, would pulverize them, annihilate them. Great preparations were
being made in the peninsula of Gennevilliers, the point where there was
most likelihood of the operation being attended with success. Then one
morning came the joyful tidings of the victory at Coulmiers; Orleans was
recaptured, the army of the Loire was marching to the relief of Paris,
was even then, so it was reported, in camp at Etampes. The aspect of
affairs was entirely changed: all they had to do now was to go and
effect a junction with it beyond the Marne. There had been a general
reorganization of the forces; three armies had been created, one
composed of the battalions of National Guards and commanded by General
Clement Thomas, another, comprising the 13th and 14th corps, to which
were added a few reliable regiments, selected indiscriminately wherever
they could be found, was to form the main column of attack under the
lead of General Ducrot, while the third, intended to act as a reserve,
was made up entirely of mobiles and turned over to General Vinoy. And
when Maurice laid him down to sleep in the wood of Vincennes on the
night of the 28th of November, with his comrades of the 115th, he was
without a doubt of their success. The three corps of the second army
were all there, and it was common talk that their junction with the army
of the Loire had been fixed for the following day at Fontainebleau. Then
ensued a series of mischances, the usual blunders arising from want of
foresight; a sudden rising of the river, which prevented the engineers
from laying the pontoon bridge; conflicting orders, which delayed the
movement of the troops. The 115th was among the first regiments to
pass the river on the following night, and in the neighborhood of
ten o'clock, with Maurice in its ranks, it entered Champigny under a
destructive fire. The young man was wild with excitement; he fired
so rapidly that his chassepot burned his fingers, notwithstanding
the intense cold. His sole thought was to push onward, ever onward,
surmounting every obstacle until they should join their brothers from
the provinces ove
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