Maurice Tiernay Soldier of Fortune
by Charles James Lever
MAURICE TIERNAY SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
By Charles James Lever
The Novels Of Charles Lever
Edited By His Daughter
Illustrations by A. D. M'Cormick
London
Downey And Co., Limited
12 York St. Covent Garden
1898
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL
NOTE
NOTICE
CHAPTER I. 'THE
DAYS OF THE
GUILLOTINE'
CHAPTER II. THE
RESTAURANT 'AU
SCELERAT'
CHAPTER III. THE
'TEMPLE'
CHAPTER IV. 'THE
NIGHT OF THE
NINTH THERMIDOR'
CHAPTER V. THE
CHOICE OF A LIFE
CHAPTER VI. 'THE
ARMY SIXTY YEARS
SINCE'
CHAPTER VII. A
PASSING
ACQUAINTANCE
CHAPTER VIII. 'TRONCHON'
CHAPTER IX. A
SCRAPE AND ITS
CONSEQUENCES
CHAPTER X. AN
ARISTOCRATIC
REPUBLICAN
CHAPTER XI. 'THE
PASSAGE OP THE
RHINE'
CHAPTER XII. 'A
GLANCE AT
STAFF-DUTY'
CHAPTER XIII. A
FAREWELL LETTER
CHAPTER XIV. A
SURPRISE AND AN
ESCAPE
CHAPTER XV.
SCRAPS OF
HISTORY
CHAPTER XVI. AN
OLD GENERAL OF
THE IRISH
BRIGADE
CHAPTER XVII. LA
ROCHELLE
CHAPTER XVIII.
'THE BAY OF
BATHFRAN'
CHAPTER XIX. A
RECONNAISSANCE
CHAPTER XX.
KILLALA
CHAPTER XXI. OUR
ALLIES
CHAPTER XXII.
THE DAY OF 'CASTLEBAR'
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE TOWN-MAJOR
OF CASTLEBAR
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE MISSION TO
THE NORTH
CHAPTER XXV. A
PASSING VISIT TO
KILLALA
CHAPTER XXVI. A
REMNANT OF 'FONTENOY'
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE CRANAGH
CHAPTER XXVIII.
SOME NEW
ACQUAINTANCES
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE BREAKFAST AT
LETTERKENNY
CHAPTER XXX.
SCENE IN THE
ROYAL BARRACKS
CHAPTER XXXI. A
BRIEF CHANGE OF
LIFE AND COUNTRY
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE 'ATHOL'
TENDER
CHAPTER XXXIII.
A BOLD STROKE
FOR FAME AND
FORTUNE
CHAPTER XXXIV.
GENOA IN THE
SIEGE
CHAPTER XXXV. A
NOVEL COUNCIL OP
WAR
CHAPTER XXXVI.
GENOA DURING THE
SIEGE
CHAPTER XXXVII.
MONTE DI PACCIO
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
A ROYALIST 'DE
LA VIEILLE
ROCHE'
CHAPTER XXXIX. A
SORROWFUL
PARTING
CHAPTER XL. THE
CHATEAU OF
ETTENHEIM
CHAPTER XLI. AN
'ORDINARY'
ACQUAINTANCE
CHAPTER XLII.
THE 'COUNT DE
MAUREPAS,'
ALIAS————
CHAPTER XLIII. A
FOREST RIDE
CHAPTER XLIV. AN
EPISODE OF '94
CHAPTER XLV. THE
CABINET OF A
CHEF DE POLICE
CHAPTER XLVI. A
GLANCE AT THE
'PREFECTURE DE
POLICE'
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE VILLAGE OP
SCHWARTZ-ACH
CHAPTER XLVIII.
A VILLAGE 'SYNDICUS'
CHAPTER XLIX. A
LUCKY MEETING
CHAPTER L. THE
MARCH ON VIENNA
CHAPTER LI.
SCHÖNBRUNN IN
1809
CHAPTER LII.
KOMORN FORTY
TEARS AGO
CHAPTER LIII. A
LOSS AND A GAIN
CHAPTER LIV.
MAURICE
TIERNAY'S 'LAST
WORD AND
CONFESSION'
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
'Maurice Tiernay was first published as a serial in 'The Dublin
University Magazine,' commencing in the issue for April 1850, and
ending in the issue for December 1851. It was first published in book
form (as a volume of The Parlour Library) with the following title-page
(undated):
Maurice Tiernay | The | Soldier of Fortune | By the Author of | 'Sir
Jasper Carew' | etc. etc. I London, | Thomas Hodgson, | 13 Paternoster
Bow.
The earliest edition which has Lever's name on the title-page is one
published in Leipzig in 1861. This edition has the following
title-page:
Maurice Tiernay | the | Soldier of Fortune, | by | Charles Lever, I
Author of 'Charles O'Malley,' etc. I Copyright Edition. | In two
VOLUMES | VOL. I. | LEIPZIG | BERNHARD TAUCH-NITZ I 1861.
NOTICE
The strangeness of some of the incidents, and the rapidity with
which events so remarkable succeeded each other, almost deterred the
writer from ever committing them to the press; nor was it till after
much consultation, and some persuasive influence on the part of
friends, that he at length yielded and decided upon so doing. Whether
in that determination his choice was a wise one, must be left to the
judgment of the reader; for himself, he has but to say that to ponder
over some of these early scenes, and turn over, in thought, some of his
youthful passages, has solaced many a weary hour of an age when men
make few new friendships, and have almost as few opportunities to
cultivate old ones.
That the chief events related in these pagessuch, for instance, as
every detail of the French invasion, the capture of Wolfe Tone, and the
attack on Monte di Faccioare described with rigid exactness, the
writer is most sincere in the expression of his conviction. For the
truth of incident purely personal, it is needless to press any claim,
seeing that the hero owns no higher name than that ofA Soldier of
Fortune.
MAURICE TIERNAY
THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
CHAPTER I. 'THE DAYS OF THE
GUILLOTINE'
Neither the tastes nor the temper of the age we live in are such as
to induce any man to boast of his family nobility. We see too many
preparations around us for laying down new foundations, to think it a
suitable occasion for alluding to the ancient edifice. I will,
therefore, confine myself to saying, that I am not to be regarded as a
mere pretender because my name is not chronicled by Burke or Debrett.
My great-grandfather, after whom I am called, served on the personal
staff of King James at the Battle of the Boyne, and was one of the few
who accompanied the monarch on his flight from the field, for which act
of devotion he was created a peer of Ireland, by the style and title of
TimmahooLord Tiernay, of Timmahoo the family called itand a very
rich-sounding and pleasant designation has it always seemed to me.
The events of the time, the scanty intervals of leisure enjoyed by
the king, and other matters, prevented a due registry of my ancestors'
claims; and, in fact, when more peaceable days succeeded, it was judged
prudent to say nothing about a matter which might revive unhappy
recollections, and open old scores, seeing that there was now another
king on the throne 'who knew not Joseph'; and so, for this reason and
many others, my greatgrandfather went back to his old appellation of
Maurice Tiernay, and was only a lord among his intimate friends and
cronies of the neighbourhood.
That I am simply recording a matter of fact, the patent of my
ancestors' nobility, now in my possession, will sufficiently attest:
nor is its existence the less conclusive, that it is inscribed on the
back of his commission as a captain in the Shanabogue Fenciblesthe
well-known 'Clear-the-way-boy s'a proud title, it is said, to which
they imparted a new reading at the memorable battle aforementioned.
The document bears the address of a small public-house called the
'Nest,' on the Kells road, and contains in one corner a somewhat
lengthy score for potables, suggesting the notion that his Majesty
sympathised with vulgar infirmities, and found, as the old song says,
'that grief and sorrow are dry.'
The prudence which for some years sealed my greatgrandfather's lips,
lapsed, after a time, into a careless and even boastful spirit, in
which he would allude to his rank in the peerage, the place he ought to
be holding, and so on: till at last, some of the Government people,
doubtless taking a liking to the snug house and demesne of Timmahoo,
denounced him as a rebel, on which he was arrested and thrown into
gaol, where he lingered for many years, and only came out at last to
find his estate confiscated, and himself a beggar.
There was a small gathering of Jacobites in one of the towns of
Flanders, and thither he repaired; but how he lived, or how he died, I
never learned. I only know that his son wandered away to the east of
Europe, and took service in what was called Trenck's Pandoursas jolly
a set of robbers as ever stalked the map of Europe, from one side to
the other. This was my grandfather, whose name is mentioned in various
chronicles of that estimable corps, and who was hanged at Prague
afterwards, for an attempt to carry off an archduchess of the empire,
to whom, by the way, there is good reason to believe he was privately
married. This suspicion was strengthened by the fact that his infant
child, Joseph, was at once adopted by the imperial family, and placed
as a pupil in the great military school of Vienna. From thence he
obtained a commission in the Maria Theresa Hussars, and subsequently,
being sent on a private mission to France, entered the service of Louis
xvi., where he married a lady of the Queen's householda Mademoiselle
de la Lasterieof high rank and some fortune; and with whom he lived
happily till the dreadful events of 17, when she lost her life,
beside my father, then fighting as a Garde du Corps, on the staircase
at Versailles. How he himself escaped on that day, and what were the
next features in his history, I never knew; but when again we heard of
him, he was married to the widow of a celebrated orator of the
Mountain, and he himself an intimate friend of St. Just and Marat, and
all the most violent of the Republicans.
My father's history about this period is involved in such obscurity,
and his second marriage followed so rapidly on the death of his first
wife, that, strange as it may seem, I never knew which of the two was
my motherthe lineal descendant of a house, noble before the Crusades,
orthe humble bourgeoise of the Quartier St. Denis. What
peculiar line of political action my father followed I am unable to
say, nor whether he was suspected with or without due cause; but
suspected he certainly was, and at a time when suspicion was
all-sufficient for conviction. He was arrested, and thrown into the
Temple, where I remember I used to visit him every week; and whence I
accompanied him one morning, as he was led forth with a string of
others to the Place de Grève, to be guillotined. I believe he was
accused of royalism; and I know that a white cockade was found among
his effects, and in mockery was fastened on his shoulder on the day of
his execution. This emblem, deep dyed with blood, and still dripping,
was taken up by a bystander, and pinned on my cap, with the savage
observation, 'Voilà, it is the proper colour; see that you profit by
the way it became so.' As, with a bursting heart, and a head wild with
terror, I turned to find my way homeward, I felt my hand grasped by
anotherI looked up, and saw an old man, whose threadbare black
clothes and emaciated appearance bespoke the priest in the times of the
Convention.
'You have no home now, my poor boy,' said he to me; 'come and share
mine.'
I did not ask him why. I seemed to have suddenly become reckless as
to everything present or future. The terrible scene I had witnessed had
dried up all the springs of my youthful heart; and, infant as I was, I
was already a sceptic as to everything good or generous in human
nature. I followed him, therefore, without a word, and we walked on,
leaving the thoroughfares and seeking the less frequented streets, till
we arrived in what seemed a suburban part of Parisat least the houses
were surrounded with trees and shrubs; and at a distance I could see
the hill of Montmartre and its windmillsobjects well known to me by
many a Sunday visit.
Even after my own home, the poverty of the Père Michel's household
was most remarkable: he had but one small room, of which a miserable
settle-bed, two chairs, and a table constituted all the furniture;
there was no fireplace, a little pan for charcoal supplying the only
means for warmth or cookery; a crucifix and a few coloured prints of
saints decorated the whitewashed walls; and, with a string of wooden
beads, a cloth skull-cap, and a bracket with two or three books, made
up the whole inventory of his possessions; and yet, as he closed the
door behind him, and drew me towards him to kiss my cheek, the tears
glistened in his eyes with gratitude as he said
'Now, my dear Maurice, you are at home.'
'How do you know that I am called Maurice?' said I, in astonishment.
'Because I was an old friend of your poor father, my child; we came
from the same countrywe held the same faith, had the same hopes, and
may one day yet, perhaps, have the same fate.'
He told me that the closest friendship had bound them together for
years past, and in proof of it showed me a variety of papers which my
father had intrusted to his keeping, well aware, as it would seem, of
the insecurity of his own life.
'He charged me to take you home with me, Maurice, should the day
come when this might come to pass. You will now live with me, and I
will be your father, so far, at least, as humble means will suffer me.'
I was too young to know how deep my debt of gratitude ought to be. I
had not tasted the sorrows of utter desertion; nor did I know from what
a hurricane of blood and anarchy Fortune had rescued me; still I
accepted the père's benevolent offer with a thankful heart, and turned
to him at once as to all that was left to me in the world.
All this time, it may be wondered how I neither spoke nor thought of
my mother, if she were indeed such; but for several weeks before my
father's death I had never seen her, nor did he ever once allude to
her. The reserve thus imposed upon me remained still, and I felt as
though it would have been like a treachery to his memory were I now to
speak of her whom, in his lifetime, I had not dared to mention.
The père lost no time in diverting my mind from the dreadful events
I had so lately witnessed. The next morning, soon after daybreak, I was
summoned to attend him to the little church of St. Blois, where he said
mass. It was a very humble little edifice, which once had been the
private chapel of a château, and stood in a weed-grown, neglected
garden, where broken statues and smashed fountains bore evidence of the
visits of the destroyer. A rude effigy of St. Blois, upon whom some
profane hand had stuck a Phrygian cap of liberty, and which none were
bold enough to displace, stood over the doorway; except this, not a
vestige of ornament or decoration existed. The altar, covered with a
white cloth, displayed none of the accustomed emblems; and a rude
crucifix of oak was the only symbol of the faith remaining. Small as
was the building, it was even too spacious for the few who came to
worship. The terror which prevailed on every sidethe dread that
devotion to religion should be construed into an adherence to the
monarchy, that submission to God should be interpreted as an act of
rebellion against the sovereignty of human willhad gradually thinned
the numbers, till at last the few who came were only those whose
afflictions had steeled them against any reverses, and who were ready
martyrs to whatever might betide them. These were almost exclusively
womenthe mothers and wives of those who had sealed their faith with
their blood in the terrible Place de Grève. Among them was one whose
dress and appearance, although not different from the rest, always
created a movement of respect as she passed in or out of the chapel.
She was a very old lady, with hair white as snow, and who led by the
hand a little girl of about my own age; her large dark eyes and
brilliant complexion giving her a look of unearthly beauty in that
assemblage of furrowed cheeks, and eyes long dimmed by weeping. It was
not alone that her features were beautifully regular, or that their
lines were fashioned in the very perfection of symmetry, but there was
a certain character in the expression of the face so different from all
around it, as to be almost electrical in effect. Untouched by the
terrible calamities that weighed on every heart, she seemed, in the
glad buoyancy of her youth, to be at once above the very reach of
sorrow, like one who bore a charmed fate, and whom Fortune had exempted
from all the trials of this life. So at least did I read those
features, as they beamed upon me in such a contrast to the almost stern
character of the sad and sorrow-struck faces of the rest.
It was a part of my duty to place a footstool each morning for the
'Marquise,' as she was distinctively called, and on these occasions it
was that I used to gaze upon that little girl's face with a kind of
admiring wonder that lingered in my heart for hours after. The bold
look with which she met mine, if it at first half abashed, at length
encouraged me; and as I stole noiselessly away, I used to feel as
though I carried with me some portion of that high hope which bounded
within her own heart. Strange magnetism! it seemed as though her spirit
whispered to me not to be downhearted or depressedthat the sorrows of
life came and went as shadows pass over the earththat the season of
mourning was fast passing, and that for us the world would wear a
brighter and more glorious aspect.
Such were the thoughts her dark eyes revealed to me, and such the
hopes I caught up from her proud features.
It is easy to colour a life of monotony; any hue may soon tinge the
outer surface, and thus mine speedily assumed a hopeful cast; not the
less decided, that the distance was lost in vague uncertainty. The
nature of my studiesand the père kept me rigidly to the deskoffered
little to the discursiveness of fancy. The rudiments of Greek and
Latin, the lives of saints and martyrs, the litanies of the Church, the
invocations peculiar to certain holy-days, chiefly filled up my time,
when not sharing those menial offices which our poverty exacted from
our own hands.
Our life was of the very simplest; except a cup of coffee each
morning at daybreak, we took but one meal; our drink was always water.
By what means even the humble fare we enjoyed was procured I never
knew, for I never saw money in the père's possession, nor did he ever
appear to buy anything.
For about two hours in the week I used to enjoy entire liberty, as
the père was accustomed every Saturday to visit certain persons of his
flock who were too infirm to go abroad. On these occasions he would
leave me with some thoughtful injunction about reflection or pious
meditation, perhaps suggesting, for my amusement, the life of St.
Vincent de Paul, or some other of those adventurous spirits whose
missions among the Indians are so replete with heroic struggles; but
still with free permission for me to walk out at large and enjoy myself
as I liked best. We lived so near the outer boulevard that I could
already see the open country from our windows; but fair and enticing as
seemed the sunny slopes of Montmartrebright as glanced the young
leaves of spring in the gardens at its footI ever turned my steps
into the crowded city, and sought the thoroughfares where the great
human tide rolled fullest.
There were certain spots which held a kind of supernatural influence
over meone of these was the Temple, another was the Place de Grève.
The window at which my father used to sit, from which, as a kind of
signal, I have so often seen his red kerchief floating, I never could
pass now, without stopping to gaze atnow, thinking of him who had
been its inmate; now, wondering who might be its present occupant. It
needed not the onward current of population that each Saturday bore
along, to carry me to the Place de Grève. It was the great day of the
guillotine, and as many as two hundred were often led out to execution.
Although the spectacle had now lost every charm of excitement to the
population, from its frequency, it had become a kind of necessity to
their existence, and the sight of blood alone seemed to slake that
feverish thirst for vengeance which no sufferings appeared capable of
satiating. It was rare, however, when some great and distinguished
criminal did not absorb all the interest of the scene. It was at that
period when the fierce tyrants of the Convention had turned upon each
other, and sought, by denouncing those who had been their bosom
friends, to seal their new allegiance to the people. There was
something demoniacal in the exultation with which the mob witnessed the
fate of those whom, but a few weeks back, they had acknowledged as
their guides and teachers. The uncertainty of human greatness appeared
the most glorious recompense to those whose station debarred them from
all the enjoyments of power, and they stood by the death-agonies of
their former friends with a fiendish joy that all the sufferings of
their enemies had never yielded.
To me the spectacle had all the fascination that scenes of horror
exercise over the mind of youth. I knew nothing of the terrible
conflict, nothing of the fierce passions enlisted in the struggle,
nothing of the sacred names so basely polluted, nothing of that
remorseless vengeance with which the low born and degraded were still
hounded on to slaughter. It was a solemn and a fearful sight, but it
was no more; and I gazed upon every detail of the scene with an
interest that never wandered from the spot whereon it was enacted. If
the parade of soldiers, of horse, foot, and artillery, gave these
scenes a character of public justice, the horrible mobs, who chanted
ribald songs, and danced around the guillotine, suggested the notion of
popular vengeance; so that I was lost in all my attempts to reconcile
the reasons of these executions with the circumstances that accompanied
them.
Not daring to inform the Père Michel of where I had been, I could
not ask him for any explanation; and thus was I left to pick up from
the scattered phrases of the crowd what was the guilt alleged against
the criminals. In many cases the simple word 'Chouan,' of which I knew
not the import, was all I heard; in others, jeering allusions to former
rank and station would be uttered; while against some the taunt would
imply that they had shed tears over others who fell as enemies of the
people, and that such sympathy was a costly pleasure to be paid for but
with a life's-blood. Such entire possession of me had these awful
sights taken, that I lived in a continual dream of them. The sound of
every cart-wheel recalled the dull rumble of the hurdleevery distant
sound seemed like the far-off hum of the coming multitudeevery sudden
noise suggested the clanking drop of the guillotine! My sleep had no
other images, and I wandered about my little round of duties pondering
over this terrible theme.
Had I been less occupied with my own thoughts, I must have seen that
the Père Michel was suffering under some great calamity. The poor
priest became wasted to a shadow; for entire days long he would taste
of nothing; sometimes he would be absent from early morning to late at
night, and when he did return, instead of betaking himself to rest, he
would drop down before the crucifix in an agony of prayer, and thus
spend more than half the night. Often and often have I, when feigning
sleep, followed him as he recited the litanies of the breviary, adding
my own muttered prayers to his, and beseeching for a mercy whose object
I knew not.
For some time his little chapel had been closed by the authorities;
a heavy padlock and two massive seals being placed upon the door, and a
notice, in a vulgar handwriting, appended, to the effect that it was by
the order of the Commissary of the Department. Could this be the source
of the père's sorrow? or did not his affliction seem too great for such
a cause? were questions I asked myself again and again.
In this state were matters, when one morningit was a Saturdaythe
priest enjoined me to spend the day in prayer, reciting particularly
the liturgies for the dead, and all those sacred offices for those who
have just departed this life.
'Pray unceasingly, my dear childpray with your whole heart, as
though it were for one you loved best in the world. I shall not return,
perhaps, till late to-night; but I will kiss you then, and to-morrow we
shall go into the woods together.'
The tears fell from his cheek to mine as he said this, and his damp
hand trembled as he pressed my fingers. My heart was full to bursting
at his emotion, and I resolved faithfully to do his bidding. To watch
him as he went, I opened the sash, and as I did so, the sound of a
distant drum, the well-known muffled roll, floated on the air, and I
remembered it was the day of the guillotinethat day in which my
feverish spirit turned, as it were in relief, to the reality of blood.
Remote as was the part of the city we lived in, I could still mark the
hastening steps of the foot-passengers, as they listened to the far-off
summons, and see the tide was setting towards the fatal Place de Grève.
It was a lowering, heavy morning, overcast with clouds, and on its
loaded atmosphere sounds moved slowly and indistinctly; yet I could
trace through all the din of the great city, the incessant roll of the
drums, and the loud shouts that burst forth, from time to time, from
some great multitude.
Forgetting everything save my intense passion for scenes of terror,
I hastened down the stairs into the street, and at the top of my speed
hurried to the place of execution. As I went along, the crowded streets
and thronged avenues told of some event of more than common interest;
and in the words which fell from those around me, I could trace that
some deep Royalist plot had just been discovered, and that the
conspirators would all on that day be executed. Whether it was that the
frequent sight of blood was beginning to pall upon the popular
appetite, or that these wholesale massacres interested less than the
sight of individual suffering, I know not; but certainly there was less
of exultation, less of triumphant scorn in the tone of the speakers.
They talked of the coming event as of a common occurrence, which, from
mere repetition, was gradually losing interest.
'I thought we had done with these Chouans,' said a man in a blouse,
with a paper cap on his head. 'Pardie! they must have been more
numerous than we ever suspected.'
'That they were, citizen,' said a haggard-looking fellow, whose
features showed the signs of recent strife; 'they were the millions who
gorged and fed upon us for centurieswho sipped the red grape of
Bordeaux, while you and I drank the water of the Seine.'
'Well, their time is come now,' cried a third.
'And when will ours come?' asked a fresh-looking, dark-eyed girl,
whose dress bespoke her trade as a flower-girl, 'or do you call this
our time, my masters, when Paris has no more pleasant sight than blood,
nor any music save the Ça ira that drowns the cries of the
guillotine? Is this our time, when we have lost those who gave us
bread, and got in their place only those who would feed us with
carnage?'
'Down with her! down with the Chouane! à bas la Royaliste!'
cried the pale-faced fellow; and he struck the girl with his fist upon
her face, and left it covered with blood.
'To the Lantern with herto the Seine!' shouted several voices; and
now, rudely seizing her by the shoulders, the mob seemed bent upon
sudden vengeance; while the poor girl, letting fall her basket, begged
with clasped hands for mercy.
'See here, see here, comrades,' cried a fellow, stooping down among
the flowers, 'she is a Royalist: here are lilies hid beneath the rest.'
What sad consequences this discovery might have led to, there is no
knowing; when, suddenly, a violent rush of the crowd turned every
thought into a different direction. It was caused by a movement of the
Gendarmerie à cheval, who were clearing the way for the approaching
procession. I had just time to place the poor girl's basket in her
hands, as the onward impulse of the dense mob carried me forward. I saw
her no more. A flowerI know not how it came therewas in my bosom,
and seeing that it was a lily, I placed it within my cap for
concealment.
The hoarse clangour of the bassoonsthe only instruments which
played during the marchnow told that the procession was approaching;
and then I could see, above the heads of the multitude, the
leopard-skin helmets of the dragoons, who led the way. Save this I
could see nothing, as I was borne along in the vast torrent towards the
place of execution. Slowly as we moved, our progress was far more rapid
than that of the procession, which was often obliged to halt from the
density of the mob in front. We arrived, therefore, at the Place a
considerable time before it; and now I found myself beside the massive
wooden railing placed to keep off the crowd from the space around the
guillotine.
It was the first time I had ever stood so close to the fatal spot,
and my eyes devoured every detail with the most searching intensity.
The colossal guillotine itself, painted red, and with its massive axe
suspended aloftthe terrible basket, half filled with sawdust,
beneaththe coarse table, on which a rude jar and a cup were
placedand, more disgusting than all, the lounging group, who, with
their newspapers in hand, seemed from time to time to watch if the
procession were approaching. They sat beneath a misshapen statue of
wood, painted red like the guillotine. This was the goddess of Liberty.
I climbed one of the pillars of the paling, and could now see the great
cart, which, like a boat upon wheels, came slowly along, dragged by six
horses. It was crowded with people, so closely packed that they could
not move their bodies, and only waved their hands, which they did
incessantly. They seemed, too, as if they were singing; but the deep
growl of the bassoons, and the fierce howlings of the mob, drowned all
other sounds. As the cart came nearer, I could distinguish the faces,
amid which were those of age and youth, men and women, bold-visaged
boys and fair girlssome, whose air bespoke the very highest station,
and beside them, the hardy peasant, apparently more amazed than
terrified at all he saw around him. On they came, the great cart
surging heavily, like a bark in a stormy sea; and now it cleft the
dense ocean that filled the Place, and I could descry the lineaments
wherein the stiffened lines of death were already marked. Had any touch
of pity still lingered in that dense crowd, there might well have been
some show of compassion for the sad convoy, whose faces grew ghastly
with terror as they drew near the horrible engine.
Down the furrowed cheek of age the heavy tears coursed freely, and
sobs and broken prayers burst forth from hearts that until now had beat
high and proudly.
'There is the Due d'Angeac,' cried a fellow, pointing to a venerable
old man, who was seated at the corner of the cart with an air of calm
dignity; 'I know him well, for I was his perruquier.'
'His hair must be content with sawdust this morning, instead of
powder,' said another; and a rude laugh followed the ruffian jest.
'See! mark that woman with the long dark hairthat is La
Bretonville, the actress of the St. Martin.'
'I have often seen her represent terror far more naturally,' cried a
fashionably dressed man, as he stared at the victim through his
opera-glass.
'Bah!' replied his friend, 'she despises her audience, voilà tout. Look, Henri, if that little girl beside her be not Lucille, of the
Pantheon.'
'Parbleu! so it is. Why, they'll not leave a pirouette in the
Grand Opera. Pauvre petite, what had you to do with politics?'
'Her little feet ought to have saved her head any day.'
'See how grim that old lady beside her looks; I'd swear she is more
shocked at the company she's thrown into than the fate that awaits her.
I never saw a glance of prouder disdain than she has just bestowed on
poor Lucille.'
'That is the old Marquise d'Estelles, the very essence of our old
nobility. They used to talk of their mésalliance with the
Bourbons as the first misfortune of their house.' 'Pardi! they
have lived to learn deeper sorrows.' I had by this time discovered her
they were speaking of, whom I recognised at once as the old marquise of
the chapel of St. Blois. My hands nearly gave up their grasp as I gazed
on those features, which so often I had seen fixed in prayer, and which
nowa thought paler, perhapswore the self-same calm expression. With
what intense agony I peered into the mass, to see if the little girl,
her granddaughter, were with her; and, oh! the deep relief I felt as I
saw nothing but strange faces on every side. It was terrible to feel,
as my eyes ranged over that vast mass, where grief, and despair, and
heart-sinking terror were depicted, that I should experience a spirit
of joy and thankfulness; and yet I did so, and with my lips I uttered
my gratitude that she was spared! But I had not time for many
reflections like this; already the terrible business of the day had
begun, and the prisoners were now descending from the cart, ranging
themselves, as their names were called, in a line below the scaffold.
With a few exceptions, they took their places in all the calm of
seeming indifference. Death had long familiarised itself to their minds
in a thousand shapes. Day by day they had seen the vacant places left
by those led out to die, and if their sorrows had not rendered them
careless of life, the world itself had grown distasteful to them. In
some cases a spirit of proud scorn was manifested to the very last;
and, strange inconsistency of human nature! the very men whose
licentiousness and frivolity first evoked the terrible storm of popular
fury, were the first to display the most chivalrous courage in the
terrible face of the guillotine. Beautiful women, too, in all the pride
of their loveliness, met the inhuman stare of that mob undismayed. Nor
were these traits without their fruits. This noble spiritthis
triumphant victory of the well born and the greatwas a continual
insult to the populace, who saw themselves defrauded of half their
promised vengeance, and they learned that they might kill, but they
could never humiliate them. In vain they dipped their hands in the red
life-blood, and, holding up their dripping fingers, asked'How did it
differ from that of the people?' Their hearts gave the lie to the
taunt; for they witnessed instances of heroism, from grey hairs and
tender womanhood, that would have shamed the proudest deeds of their
new-born chivalry!
'Charles Grégoire Courcelles!' shouted out a deep voice from the
scaffold.
'That is my name,' said a venerable-looking old gentleman, as he
arose from his seat, adding, with a placid smile, 'but for half a
century my friends have called me the Duc de Riancourt.'
'We have no dukes nor marquises; we know of no titles in France,'
replied the functionary. 'All men are equal before the law.'
'If it were so, my friend, you and I might change places; for you
were my steward, and plundered my château.'
'Down with the Royalistaway with the aristocrat!' shouted a number
of voices from the crowd.
'Be a little patient, good people,' said the old man, as he ascended
the steps with some difficulty; 'I was wounded in Canada, and have
never yet recovered. I shall probably be better a few minutes hence.'
There was something of half simplicity in the careless way the words
were uttered that hushed the multitude, and already some expressions of
sympathy were heard; but as quickly the ribald insults of the hired
ruffians of the Convention drowned these sounds, and 'Down with the
Royalist' resounded on every side, while two officials assisted him to
remove his stock and bare his throat. The commissary, advancing to the
edge of the platform, and, as it were, addressing the people, read in a
hurried, slurring kind of voice, something that purported to be the
ground of the condemnation. But of this not a word could be heard. None
cared to hear the ten-thousand-time told tale of suspected Royalism,
nor would listen to the high-sounding declamation that proclaimed the
virtuous zeal of the Governmenttheir untiring energytheir glorious
persistence in the cause of the people. The last words were as usual
responded to with an echoing shout, and the cry of 'Vive la
République! rose from the great multitude.
'Vive le Roi! cried the old man, with a voice heard high
above the clamour; but the words were scarce out when the lips that
uttered them were closed in death; so sudden was the act, that a cry
burst forth from the mob, but whether in reprobation or in ecstasy I
know not.
I will not follow the sad catalogue, wherein nobles, and peasants,
priests, soldiers, actors, men of obscure fortune, and women of lofty
station, succeeded each other, occupying for a brief minute every eye,
and passing away for ever. Many ascended the platform without a word;
some waved a farewell towards a distant quarter, where they suspected a
friend to be; others spent their last moments in prayer, and died in
the very act of supplication. All bore themselves with a noble and
proud courage; and now some five or six alone remained of whose fate
none seemed to guess the issue, since they had been taken from the
Temple by some mistake, and were not included in the list of the
commissary. There they sat, at the foot of the scaffold, speechless and
stupefiedthey looked as though it were matter of indifference to
which side their steps should turnto the gaol or the guillotine.
Among these was the marquise, who alone preserved her proud
self-possession, and sat in all her accustomed dignity; while close
beside her an angry controversy was maintained as to their future
destinythe commissary firmly refusing to receive them for execution,
and the delegate of the Temple, as he was styled, as flatly asserting
that he would not reconduct them to prison. The populace soon grew
interested in the dispute, and the most violent altercations arose
among the partisans of each side of the question.
Meanwhile the commissary and his assistants prepared to depart.
Already the massive drapery of red cloth was drawn over the guillotine,
and every preparation made for withdrawing, when the mob, doubtless
dissatisfied that they should be defrauded of any portion of the
entertainment, began to climb over the wooden barricades, and, with
furious cries and shouts, threaten vengeance upon any who would screen
the enemies of the people.
The troops resisted the movement, but rather with the air of men
entreating calmness than with the spirit of soldiery. It was plain to
see on which side the true force lay.
'If you will not do it, the people will do it for you,' whispered
the delegate to the commissary; 'and who is to say where they will stop
when their hands once learn the trick!'
The commissary grew lividly pale, and made no reply.
'See there!' rejoined the other'they are carrying a fellow on
their shoulders yonderthey mean him to be the executioner.'
'But I dare notI cannotwithout my orders.'
'Are not the people sovereign?whose will have we sworn to obey but
theirs?'
'My own head would be the penalty if I yielded.'
'It will be, if you resisteven now it is too late.'
And as he spoke he sprang from the scaffold, and disappeared in the
dense crowd that already thronged the space within the rails.
By this time the populace were not only masters of the area around,
but had also gained the scaffold itself, from which many of them seemed
endeavouring to harangue the mobothers contenting themselves with
imitating the gestures of the commissary and his functionaries. It was
a scene of the wildest uproar and confusionfrantic cries and screams,
ribald songs and fiendish yellings on every side. The guillotine was
again uncovered, and the great crimson drapery, torn into fragments,
was waved about like flags, or twisted into uncouth head-dresses. The
commissary, failing in every attempt to restore order peaceably, and
either not possessing a sufficient force, or distrusting the temper of
the soldiers, descended from the scaffold, and gave the order to march.
This act of submission was hailed by the mob with the most furious yell
of triumph. Up to that very moment they had never credited the bare
possibility of a victory; and now they saw themselves suddenly masters
of the fieldthe troops, in all the array of horse and foot, retiring
in discomfiture. The exultation knew no bounds; and, doubtless, had
there been amongst them those with skill and daring to profit by the
enthusiasm, the torrent had rushed a longer and more terrific course
than through the blood-steeped clay of the Place de Grève.
'Here is the man we want,' shouted a deep voice. 'St. Just told us
t' other day that the occasion never failed to produce one; and see,
here is Jean Gougon; and though he's but two feet high, his fingers
can reach the pin of the guillotine.'
And he held aloft on his shoulders a misshapen dwarf, who was well
known on the Pont Neuf, where he gained his living by singing infamous
songs, and performing mockeries of the service of the mass. A cheer of
welcome acknowledged this speech, to which the dwarf responded by a
mock benediction, which he bestowed with all the ceremonious observance
of an archbishop. Shouts of the wildest laughter followed this
ribaldry, and in a kind of triumph they carried him up the steps, and
deposited him on the scaffold.
Ascending one of the chairs, the little wretch proceeded to address
the mob, which he did with all the ease and composure of a practised
public speaker. Not a murmur was heard in that tumultuous assemblage,
as he, with a most admirable imitation of Hébert, then the popular
idol, assured them that France was, at that instant, the envy of
surrounding nations; and that, bating certain little weaknesses on the
score of humanitycertain traits of softness and over-mercyher
citizens realised all that ever had been said of angels. From thence he
passed on to a mimicry of Marat, of Danton, and of Robespierretearing
off his cravat, baring his breast, and performing all the oft-exhibited
antics of the latter, as he vociferated, in a wild scream, the
well-known peroration of a speech he had lately made'If we look for a
glorious morrow of freedom, the sun of our slavery must set in blood!'
However amused by the dwarfs exhibition, a feeling of impatience
began to manifest itself among the mob, who felt that, by any longer
delay, it was possible time would be given for fresh troops to arrive,
and the glorious opportunity of popular sovereignty be lost in the very
hour of victory.
'To workto work, Master Gougon!' shouted hundreds of rude voices;
'we cannot spend our day in listening to oratory.'
'You forget, my dear friends,' said he blandly, 'that this is to me
a new walk in life. I have much to learn, ere I can acquit myself
worthily to the Republic.'
'We have no leisure for preparatory studies, Gougon,' cried a fellow
below the scaffold.
'Let me, then, just begin with monsieur,' said the dwarf, pointing
to the last speaker, and a shout of laughter closed the sentence.
A brief and angry dispute now arose as to what was to be done; and
it is more than doubtful how the debate might have ended, when Gougon,
with a readiness all his own, concluded the discussion by saying
'I have it, citizens, I have it! There is a lady here, who, however
respectable her family and connections, will leave few to mourn her
loss. She is, in a manner, public property, and if not born on the
soil, at least a naturalised Frenchwoman. We have done a great deal for
her, and in her name, for some time back, and I am not aware of any
singular benefit she has rendered us. With your permission, then, I 'll
begin with her.*
'Name, namename her!' was cried by thousands.
'La voilà,' said he archly, as he pointed with his thumb to
the wooden effigy of Liberty above his head.
The absurdity of the suggestion was more than enough for its
success. A dozen hands were speedily at work, and down came the goddess
of Liberty! The other details of an execution were hurried over with
all the speed of practised address, and the figure was placed beneath
the drop. Down fell the axe, and Gougon, lifting up the wooden head,
paraded it about the scaffold, crying
'Behold! an enemy of France. Long live the Republic, one and
indivisible!'
Loud and wild were the shouts of laughter from this brutal mockery;
and for a time it almost seemed as if the ribaldry had turned the mob
from the sterner passions of their vengeance. This hope, if one there
ever cherished it, was short-lived, and again the cry arose for blood.
It was too plain that no momentary diversion, no passing distraction,
could withdraw them from that lust for cruelty that had now grown into
a passion.
And now a bustle and movement of those around the stairs showed that
something was in preparation; and in the next moment the old marquise
was led forward between two men.
'Where is the order for this woman's execution?' asked the dwarf,
mimicking the style and air of the commissary.
'We give itit is from us!' shouted the mob, with one savage roar.
Gougon removed his cap, and bowed in token of obedience.
'Let us proceed in order, citizens,' said he gravely; 'I see no
priest here.'
'Shrive her yourself, Gougon; few know the mummeries better!' cried
a voice.
'Is there not one here can remember a prayer, or even a verse of the
offices,' said Gougon, with a well-affected horror in his voice.
'Yes, yes, I do,' cried I, my zeal overcoming all sense of the
mockery in which the words were spoken; 'I know them all by heart, and
can repeat them from lux beatissima down to hora mortis"'; and as if
to gain credence for my self-laudation, I began at once to recite, in
the sing-song tone of the seminary
'Salve, mater salvatoris,
Fons salutis, vas honoris;
Scala coli, porta et via,
Salve semper, O Maria!'
It is possible I should have gone on to the very end, if the
uproarious laughter which rung around had not stopped me.
'There's a brave youth!' cried Gougon, pointing towards me, with
mock admiration. 'If it ever come to passas what may not in these
strange times?that we turn to priestcraft again, thou shalt be the
first archbishop of Paris. Who taught thee that famous canticle?'
'The Père Michel,' replied I, in no way conscious of the ridicule
bestowed upon me; 'the Père Michel of St. Blois.'
The old lady lifted up her head at these words, and her dark eyes
rested steadily upon me; and then, with a sign of her hand, she
motioned to me to come over to her.
'Yes; let him come,' said Gougon, as if answering the half-reluctant
glances of the crowd. And now I was assisted to descend, and passed
along over the heads of the people, till I was placed upon the
scaffold. Never can I forget the terror of that moment, as I stood
within a few feet of the terrible guillotine, and saw beside me the
horrid basket splashed with recent blood.
'Look not at these things, child,' said the old lady, as she took my
hand and drew me towards her, 'but listen to me, and mark my words
well.'
'I will, I will,' cried I, as the hot tears rolled down my cheeks.
'Tell the pèreyou will see him to-nighttell him that I have
changed my mind, and resolved upon another course, and that he is not
to leave Paris. Let them remain. The torrent runs too rapidly to last.
This cannot endure much longer. We shall be among the last victims. You
hear me, child?'
'I do, I do,' cried I, sobbing. 'Why is not the Père Michel with you
now?'
'Because he is suing for my pardonasking for mercy where its very
name is a derision. Kneel down beside me, and repeat the Angelus.'
I took off my cap, and knelt down at her feet, reciting, in a voice
broken by emotion, the words of the prayer. She repeated each syllable
after me, in a tone full and unshaken, and then stooping, she took up
the lily which lay in my cap. She pressed it to her lips two or three
times passionately. 'Give it to her; tell her I kissed it at my
last moment. Tell her'
'This shrift is beyond endurance. Away, holy father!' cried
Gougon, as he pushed me rudely back, and seized the marquise by the
wrist. A faint cry escaped her. I heard no more; for, jostled and
pushed about by the crowd, I was driven to the very rails of the
scaffold. Stepping beneath these, I mingled with the mob beneath; and
burning with eagerness to escape a scene, to have witnessed which would
almost have made my heart break, I forced my way into the dense mass,
and, by squeezing and creeping, succeeded at last in penetrating to the
verge of the Place. A terrible shout, and a rocking motion of the mob,
like the heavy surging of the sea, told me that all was over; but I
never looked back to the fatal spot, but, having gained the open
streets, ran at the top of my speed towards home.
CHAPTER II. THE RESTAURANT 'AU
SCELERAT'
As I gained the street, at a distance from the Place, I was able to
increase my speed; and I did so with an eagerness as if the world
depended on my haste. At any other time I would have bethought me of my
disobedience to the père's commands, and looked forward to meeting him
with shame and sorrow, but now I felt a kind of importance in the
charge intrusted to me. I regarded my mission as something superior to
any petty consideration of self, while the very proximity in which I
had stood to peril and death made me seem a hero in my own eyes.
At last I reached the street where we lived, and, almost breathless
with exertion, gained the door. What was my amazement, however, to find
it guarded by a sentry, a large, solemn-looking fellow, with a tattered
cocked-hat on his head, and a pair of worn striped trousers on his
legs, who cried out, as I appeared, 'Halte-là!' in a voice that at once
arrested my steps.
'Where to, youngster?' said he, in a somewhat melted tone, seeing
the shock his first words had caused me.
'I am going home, sir,' said I submissively; 'I live at the third
storey, in the apartment of the Père Michel.'
'The Père Michel will live there no longer, my boy; his apartment is
now in the Temple,' said he slowly.
'In the Temple!' said I, whose memory at once recalled my father's
fate; and then, unable to control my feelings, I sat down upon the
steps and burst into tears.
'There, there, child, you must not cry thus,' said he; 'these are
not days when one should weep over misfortunes; they come too fast and
too thick on all of us for that. The père was your tutor, I suppose?'
I nodded.
'And your fatherwhere is he?'
'Dead.'
He made a sign to imitate the guillotine, and I assented by another
nod.
'Was he a Royalist, boy?'
'He was an officer in the Garde du Corps,' said I proudly. The
soldier shook his head mournfully, but with what meaning I know not.
'And your mother, boy?'
'I do not know where she is,' said I, again relapsing into tears at
the thought of my utter desolation. The old soldier leaned upon his
musket in profound thought, and for some time did not utter a word. At
last he said
'There is nothing but the Hôtel de Ville for you, my child. They say
that the Republic adopts all the orphans of France. What she does with
them I cannot tell.'
'But I can, though,' replied I fiercely; 'the Noyades or the Seine
are a quick and sure provision; I saw eighty drowned one morning below
the Pont Neuf myself.'
'That tongue of yours will bring you into trouble, youngster,' said
he reprovingly; 'mind that you say not such things as these.'
'What worse fortune can betide me than to see my father die at the
guillotine, and my last, my only friend, carried away to prison?'
'You have no care for your own neck, then?'
'Why should I-what value has life for me?'
'Then it will be spared to you,' said he sententiously; 'mark my
words, lad. You never need fear death till you begin to love life. Get
up, my poor boy; you must not be found there when the relief comes, and
that will be soon. This is all that I have,' said he, placing three
sous in my palm, 'which will buy a loaf; to-morrow there may be better
luck in store for you.'
I shook the rough hand he offered with cordial gratitude, and
resolved to bear myself as like a man as I could. I drew myself up,
touched my cap in soldierlike fashion, and cried out, adieuand then,
descending into the street, hurried away to hide the tears that were
almost suffocating me.
Hour after hour I walked the streets; the mere act of motion seemed
to divert my grief, and it was only when, footsore and weary, I could
march no longer, that my sorrows came back in full force, and
overwhelmed me in their flow. It was less pride or shame than a sense
of my utter helplessness, that prevented me addressing any one of the
hundreds who passed me. I bethought me of my inability to do anything
for my own support, and it was this consciousness that served to weigh
me down more than all else; and yet I felt with what devotion I could
serve him who would but treat me with the kindness he might bestow upon
his dog; I fancied with what zeal I could descend to very slavery for
one word of affection. The streets were crowded with people; groups
were gathered here and there, either listening to some mob orator of
the day, or hearing the newspapers read aloud. I tried, by forcing my
way into the crowd, to feel myself 'one of them,' and to think that I
had my share of interest in what was going forward, but in vain. Of the
topics discussed I knew nothing, and of the bystanders none even
noticed me. High-swelling phrases met the ear at every moment, that
sounded strangely enough to me. They spoke of Fraternityof that
brotherhood which linked man to man in close affection; of
Equalitythat made all sharers in this world's goods; of Libertythat
gave freedom to every noble aspiration and generous thought; and for an
instant, carried away by the glorious illusion, I even forgot my
solitary condition, and felt proud of my heritage as a youth of France.
I looked around me, however, and what faces met my gaze! The same
fearful countenances I had seen around the scaffoldthe wretches,
blood-stained, and influenced by passiontheir bloated cheeks and
strained eyeballs glowing with intemperancetheir oaths, their
gesturestheir very voices having something terrible in them. The
mockery soon disgusted me, and I moved away, again to wander about
without object or direction through the weary streets. It was past
midnight when I found myself, without knowing where I was, in a large
open space, in the midst of which a solitary lamp was burning. I
approached it and, to my horror, saw that it was the guillotine, over
which in mournful cadence a lantern swung, creaking its chain as the
night wind stirred it. The dim outline of the fearful scaffold, the
fitful light that fell upon the platform, and the silence-all conspired
to strike terror into my heart. All I had so lately witnessed seemed to
rise up again before me, and the victims seemed to stand up again,
pale, and livid, and shuddering, as last I saw them.
I knelt down and tried to pray, but terror was too powerful to
suffer my thoughts to take this direction, and, half fainting with fear
and exhaustion, I lay down upon the ground and sleptslept beneath the
platform of the guillotine. Not a dream crossed my slumber, nor did I
awake till dawn of day, when the low rumbling of the peasants' carts
aroused me, as they were proceeding to the market. I know not why or
whence, but I arose from the damp earth, and looked about me with a
more daring and courageous spirit than I had hitherto felt. It was
Maythe first bright rays of sunshine were slanting along the Place,
and the fresh, brisk air felt invigorating and cheering. Whither to?
asked I of myself, and my eyes turned from the dense streets and
thoroughfares of the great city to the far-off hills beyond the
barrier, and for a moment I hesitated which road to take. I almost
seemed to feel as if the decision involved my whole future
fortunewhether I should live and die in the humble condition of a
peasant, or play for a great stake in life. Yes, said I, after a short
hesitation, I will remain herein the terrible conflict going forward,
many must be new adventurers, and never was any one more greedy to
learn the trade than myself. I will throw sorrow behind me. Yesterday's
tears are the last I shall shed. Now for a bold heart and a ready will,
and here goes for the world! With these stout words I placed my cap
jauntily on one side of my head, and with a fearless air marched off
for the very centre of the city.
For some hours I amused myself gazing at the splendid shops, or
staring in at the richly decorated cafés, where the young celebrities
of the day were assembled at breakfast, in all the extravagance of the
newfangled costume. Then I followed the Guard to the parade at the
'Carrousel,' and listened to the band; quitting which I wandered along
the quays, watching the boats as they dragged the river in search of
murdered bodies or suicides. Thence I returned to the Palais-Royal and
listened to the news of the day, as read out by some elected
enlightener of his countrymen.
By what chance I know not, but at last my rambling steps brought me
opposite to the great solemn-looking towers of the 'Temple.' The gloomy
prison, within whose walls hundreds were then awaiting the fate which
already their friends had sufferedlittle groups, gathered here and
there in the open Place, were communicating to the prisoners by signs
and gestures, and from many a small-grated window, at an immense
height, handkerchiefs were seen to wave in recognition of those below.
These signals seemed to excite neither watchfulness nor
preventionindeed, they needed none; and perhaps the very suspense
they excited was a torture that pleased the inhuman gaolers. Whatever
the reason, the custom was tolerated, and was apparently enjoyed at
that moment by several of the turnkeys, who sat at the windows, much
amused at the efforts made to communicate. Interested by the sight, I
sat down upon a stone bench to watch the scene, and fancied that I
could read something of the rank and condition of those who signalled
from below their messages of hope or fear. At last a deep bell within
the prison tolled the hour of noon; and now every window was suddenly
deserted. It was the hour for the muster of the prisoners, which always
took place before the dinner at one o'clock. The curious groups soon
after broke up. A few lingered around the gate, with, perhaps, some
hope of admission to visit their friends; but the greater number
departed.
My hunger was now such that I could no longer deny myself the
long-promised meal, and I looked about me for a shop where I might buy
a loaf of bread. In my search, I suddenly found myself opposite an
immense shop, where viands of every tempting description were ranged
with all that artistic skill so purely Parisian, making up a picture
whose composition Snyders would not have despised. Over the door was a
painting of a miserable wretch, with hands bound behind him, and his
hair cut close in the well-known crop for the scaffold; and underneath
was written, 'Au Scélérat'; while on a larger board, in gilt letters,
ran the inscription:
'Boivin Père et fils,
Traiteurs pour MM. les Condamnées.'
I could scarcely credit my eyes, as I read and re-read this infamous
announcement; but there it stood, and in the crowd that poured
incessantly to and from the door, I saw the success that attended the
traffic. A ragged knot were gathered around the window, eagerly gazing
at something, which, by their exclamations, seemed to claim all their
admiration. I pressed forward to see what it was, and beheld a
miniature guillotine, which, turned by a wheel, was employed to chop
the meat for sausages. This it was that formed the great object of
attraction, even to those to whom the prototype had grown flat and
uninteresting.
Disgusted as I was by this shocking sight, I stood watching all that
went forward within with a strange interest. It was a scene of
incessant bustle and movement; for now, as one o'clock drew nigh,
various dinners were being prepared for the prisoners, while parties of
their friends were assembling inside. Of these latter there seemed
persons of every rank and condition; some, dressed in all the
brilliancy of the mode; others, whose garments bespoke direst poverty.
There were women, too, whose costume emulated the classic drapery of
the ancients, and who displayed, in their looped togas, no niggard
share of their forms; while others, in shabby mourning, sat in obscure
corners, not noticing the scene before them, nor noticed themselves. A
strange equipage, with two horses extravagantly bedizened with rosettes
and bouquets, stood at the door; and, as I looked, a pale,
haggard-looking man, whose foppery in dress contrasted oddly with his
careworn expression, hurried from the shop and sprang into the
carriage. In doing so, a pocket-book fell from his pocket. I took it
up; but as I did so, the carriage was already away, and far beyond my
power to overtake it.
Without stopping to examine my prize, or hesitating for a second, I
entered the restaurant, and asked for M. Boivin.
'Give your orders to me, boy,' said a man busily at work behind the
counter.
'My business is with himself,' said I stoutly.
'Then you 'll have to wait with some patience,' said he sneeringly.
'I can do so,' was my answer, and I sat down in the shop.
I might have been half an hour thus seated, when an enormously fat
man, with a huge bonnet rouge on his head, entered from an inner
room, and passing close to where I was, caught sight of me.
'Who are you, sirrahwhat brings you here?'
'I want to speak with M. Bouvin.'
'Then speak!' said he, placing his hand upon his immense chest.
'It must be alone,' said I.
'How so, alone, sirrah?' said he, growing suddenly pale; 'I have no
secretsI know of nothing that may not be told before all the world.'
Though he said this in a kind of appeal to all around, the dubious
looks and glances interchanged seemed to make him far from comfortable.
'So you refuse me, then?' said I, taking up my cap and preparing to
depart.
'Come hither,' said he, leading the way into the room from which he
had emerged. It was a very small chamber, the most conspicuous
ornaments of which were busts and pictures of the various celebrities
of the Revolution. Some of these latter were framed ostentatiously, and
one, occupying the post of honour above the chimney, at once attracted
me, for in a glance I saw that it was a portrait of him who owned the
pocket-book, and bore beneath it the name 'Robespierre.'
'Now, sir, for your communication,' said Boivin; 'and take care that
it is of sufficient importance to warrant the interview you have asked
for.'
'I have no fears on that score,' said I calmly, still scanning the
features of the portrait, and satisfying myself of their identity.
'Look at me, sir, and not at that picture,' said Boivin.
'And yet it is of M. Robespierre I have to speak,' said I coolly.
'How soof M. Robespierre, boy? What is the meaning of this? If it
be a snareif this be a trick, you never leave this spot living,'
cried he, as he placed a massive hand on each of my shoulders and shook
me violently.
'I am not so easily to be terrified, citizen,' said I; 'nor have I
any secret cause for fear, whatever you may have. My business is of
another kind. This morning, in passing out to his carriage, he dropped
his pocket-book, which I picked up. Its contents may well be of a kind
that should not be read by other eyes than his own. My request is,
then, that you will seal it up before me, and then send some one along
with me, while I restore it to its owner.'
'Is this a snarewhat secret mischief have we here?' said Boivin,
half aloud, as he wiped the cold drops of perspiration from his
forehead.
'Any mishap that follows will depend upon your refusal to do what I
ask.'
'How soI never refused it; you dare not tell M. Robespierre that I
refused, sirrah?'
'I will tell him nothing that is untrue,' said I calmly; for already
a sense of power had gifted me with composure. 'If M. Robespierre'
[Illustration: 054]
'Who speaks of me here?' cried the identical personage, as he dashed
hurriedly into the room, and then, not waiting for the reply, went
on' You must send out your scouts on every sideI lost my
pocket-book as I left this a while ago.'
'It is here, sir,' said I, presenting it at once.
'Howwhere was it foundin whose keeping has it been, boy?'
'In mine only; I took it from the ground the same moment that you
dropped it, and then came here to place it in M. Boivin's hands.'
'Who has taken care of it since that time?' continued Robespierre,
with a slow and sneering accentuation on every word.
'The pocket-book has never left my possession since it quitted
yours,' was my reply.
'Just so,' broke in Boivin, now slowly recovering from his terror.
'Of its contents I know nothing; nor have I sought to know anything.'
Robespierre looked at me as if to corroborate this statement, and I
nodded my head in acquiescence.
'Who is your father, boy?'
'I have nonehe was guillotined.'
'His name?'
'Tiernay.'
'Ah, I remember; he was called l'Irlandais.'
'The same.'
'A famous Royalist was that same Tiernay, and, doubtless, contrived
to leave a heritage of his opinions to his son.'
'He left me nothingI have neither house, nor home, nor even bread
to eat.'
'But you have a head to plan, and a heart to feel, youngster; and it
is better that fellows like you should not want a dinner. Boivin, look
to it that he is taken care of. In a few days I will relieve you of the
charge. You will remain here, boy; there are worse resting-places, I
promise you. There are men who call themselves teachers of the people,
who would ask no better life than free quarters on Boivin.' And so
saying, he hurriedly withdrew, leaving me face to face with my host.
'So then, youngster,' said Boivin, as he scratched his ear
thoughtfully, 'I have gained a pensioner! Parbleu! if life were
not an uncertain thing in these times, there's no saying how long we
might not be blessed with your amiable company.'
'You shall not be burthened heavily, citizen,' said I: 'let me have
my dinnerI have not eaten since yesterday morning, and I will go my
ways peacefully.'
'Which means straight to Robespierre's dwelling, to tell him that I
have turned you out of doorseh, sirrah?'
'You mistake me much,' said I; 'this would be sorry gratitude for
eaten bread. I meant what I saidthat I will not be an unwelcome
guest, even though the alternative be, as it is, something very nigh
starvation.'
Boivin did not seem clearly to comprehend the meaning of what I
said; or perhaps my whole conduct and bearing puzzled him, for he made
no reply for several seconds. At last, with a kind of sigh, he
said'Well, well, it cannot be helped; it must be even as he wished,
though the odds are, he 'll never think more about him. Come, lad, you
shall have your dinner.'
I followed him through a narrow, unlighted passage, which opened
into a room, where, at a long table, were seated a number of men and
boys at dinner. Some were dressed as cooks; others wore a kind of grey
blouse, with a badge upon the arm, bearing the name 'Boivin' in large
letters, and were, as I afterwards learned, the messengers employed to
carry refreshments into the prison, and who, by virtue of this sign,
were freely admitted within the gates.
Taking my place at the board, I proceeded to eat with a voracity
that only a long fast could have excused; and thus took but little heed
of my companions, whose solecisms in table etiquette might otherwise
have amused me.
'Art a Marmiton, thou?' asked an elderly man in a cook's cap, as he
stared fixedly at me for some seconds.
'No,' said I, helping myself and eating away as before.
'Thou canst never be a commissionaire, friend, with an appetite like
that,' cried another; 'I wouldn't trust thee to carry a casserole to
the fire.'
'Nor shall I be,' said I coolly.
'What trade, then, has the good fortune to possess your shining
abilities.'
'A trade that thrives well just now, friendpass me the flask.'
'Indeed, and what may it be?'
'Can you not guess, citizen,' said I, 'if I tell you that it was
never more in vogue; and, if there be some who will not follow it,
they'll wear their heads just as safely by holding their peace?'
'Parbleu! thou hast puzzled me,' said the chief cook; 'and if
thou be'st not a coffin-maker' A roar of merriment cut short his
speech, in which I myself could not but join heartily.
'That is, I know,' said I, 'a thriving business; but mine is even
better; and, not to mystify you longer, I 'll just tell you what I am;
which is, simply, a friend of the Citizen Robespierre.'
The blow told with full force; and I saw, in the terrified looks
that were interchanged around the table, that my sojourn amongst them,
whether destined to be of short or long duration, would not be
disturbed by further liberties. It was truly a reign of terror that
same period! The great agent of everything was the vague and shadowy
dread of some terrible vengeance, against which precautions were all in
vain. Men met each other with secret misgivings, and parted with the
same dreadful distrust. The ties of kindred were all broken; brotherly
affection died out. Existence was become like the struggle for life
upon some shipwrecked raft, where each sought safety by his neighbour's
doom! At such a timewith such terrible teachingschildren became men
in all the sterner features of character; cruelty is a lesson so easily
learned.
As for myself, energetic and ambitious by nature, the ascendency my
first assumption of power suggested was too grateful a passion to be
relinquished. The namewhose spell was like a talisman, because now
the secret engine by which I determined to work out my
fortuneRobespierre had become to my imagination like the slave of
Aladdin's lamp; and to conjure him up was to be all-powerful Even to
Boivin himself this influence extended; and it was easy to perceive
that he regarded the whole narrative of the pocket-book as a mere
fable, invented to obtain a position as a spy over his household.
I was not unwilling to encourage the beliefit added to my
importance, by increasing the fear I inspired; and thus I walked
indolently about, giving myself those airs of mouchard that I
deemed most fitting, and taking a mischievous delight in the terror I
was inspiring.
The indolence of my life, however, soon wearied me, and I began to
long for some occupation, or some pursuit. Teeming with excitement as
the world wasevery day, every hour, brimful of eventsit was
impossible to sit calmly on the shore, and watch the great, foaming
current of human passions, without longing to be in the stream. Had I
been a man at that time, I should have become a furious orator of the
Mountainan impassioned leader of the people. The impulse to stand
foremostto take a bold and prominent positionwould have carried me
to any lengths. I had caught up enough of the horrid fanaticism of the
time to think that there was something grand and heroic in contempt for
human suffering; that a man rose proudly above all the weakness of his
nature, when, in the pursuit of some great object, he stifled within
his breast every throb of affectionevery sentiment of kindness and
mercy. Such were the teachings rife at the timesuch the first lessons
that boyhood learned; and oh! what a terrible hour had that been for
humanity if the generation then born had grown up to manhood
unchastened and unconverted!
But to return to my daily life. As I perceived that a week had now
elapsed, and the Citizen Robespierre had not revisited the
'restaurant,' nor taken any interest in my fate or fortunes, I began to
fear lest Boivin should master his terror regarding me, and take heart
to put me out of doorsan event which, in my present incertitude,
would have been sorely inconvenient. I resolved, therefore, to practise
a petty deception on my host, to sustain the influence of terror over
him. This was, to absent myself every day at a certain hour, under the
pretence of visiting my patron; letting fall, from time to time,
certain indications to show in what part of the city I had been, and
occasionally, as if in an unguarded moment, condescending to relate
some piece of popular gossip. None ventured to inquire the source of my
informationnot one dared to impugn its veracity. Whatever their
misgivings in secret, to myself they displayed the most credulous
faith. Nor was their trust so much misplaced, for I had, in reality,
become a perfect chronicle of all that went forward in Parisnever
missing a debate in the Convention, where my retentive memory could
carry away almost verbally all that I heardever present at every
public fête or procession, whether the occasions were some insulting
desecration of their former faith, or some tasteless mockery of heathen
ceremonial.
My powers of mimicry, too, enabled me to imitate all the famous
characters of the period; and in my assumed inviolability, I used to
exhibit the uncouth gestures and spluttering utterance of Maratthe
wild and terrible ravings of Dantonand even the reedy treble of my
own patron Robespierre, as he screamed denunciations against the
enemies of the people. It is true these exhibitions of mine were only
given in secret to certain parties, who, by a kind of instinct, I felt
could be trusted.
Such was my life, as one day, returning from the Convention, I
beheld a man affixing to a wall a great placard, to which the passing
crowd seemed to pay deep attention. It was a decree of the Committee of
Public Safety, containing the names of above seven hundred Royalists,
who were condemned to death, and who were to be executed in three
tournées, on three successive days.
For sometime back the mob had not been gratified with a spectacle of
this nature. In the ribald language of the day, the 'holy guillotine
had grown thirsty from long drought'; and they read the announcement
with greedy eyes, commenting as they went upon those whose names were
familiar to them. There were many of noble birth among the proscribed,
but by far the greater number were priests, the whole sum of whose
offending seemed written in the simple and touching words, ancien
curé, of such a parish! It was strange to mark the bitterness of
invective with which the people loaded these poor and innocent men, as
though they were the source of all their misfortunes. The lazy
indolence with which they reproached them seemed ten times more
offensive in their eyes than the lives of ease and affluence led by the
nobility. The fact was, they could not forgive men of their own rank
and condition what they pardoned in the well born and the noble! an
inconsistency that has characterised democracy in other situations
beside this.
As I ran my eyes down the list of those confined in the Temple, I
came to a name which smote my heart with a pang of ingratitude as well
as sorrowthe 'Père Michel Delannois, soi disant curé de St.
Blois'my poor friend and protector was there among the doomed! If, up
to that moment, I had made no effort to see him, I must own the reason
lay in my own selfish feeling of shamethe dread that he should mark
the change that had taken place in me, a change that I felt extended to
all about me, and showed itself in my manner as it influenced my every
action. It was not alone that I lost the obedient air and quiet
submissiveness of the child, but I had assumed the very extravagance of
that democratic insolence which was the mode among the leading
characters of the time.
How should I present myself before him, the very impersonation of
all the vices against which he used to warn mehow exhibit the utter
failure of all his teachings and his hopes? What would this be but to
embitter his reflections needlessly. Such were the specious reasons
with which I fed my self-love, and satisfied my conscience; but now, as
I read his name in that terrible catalogue, their plausibility served
me no longer, and at last I forgot myself to remember only him.
'I will see him at once,' thought I, 'whatever it may cost meI
will stay beside him for his last few hours of life; and when he
carries with him from this world many an evil memory of shame and
treachery, ingratitude from me shall not increase the burthen.' And
with this resolve I turned my steps homeward.
CHAPTER III. THE 'TEMPLE'
At the time of which I write, there was but one motive principle
throughout France'Terror.' By the agency of terror and the threat of
denunciation was everything carried on, not only in the public
departments of the state, but in all the common occurrences of everyday
life. Fathers used it towards their childrenchildren towards their
parents; mothers coerced their daughtersdaughters, in turn, braved
the authority of their mothers. The tribunal of public opinion, open to
all, scattered its decrees with a reckless crueltydenying to-day what
it had decreed but yesterday, and at last obliterating every trace of
'right' or 'principle' in a people who now only lived for the passing
hour, and who had no faith in the future, even of this world.
Among the very children at play, this horrible doctrine had gained a
footing: the tyrant urchin, whose ingenuity enabled him to terrorise,
became the master of his playfellows. I was not slow in acquiring the
popular education of the period, and soon learned that fear was a
'Bank' on which one might draw at will. Already the domineering habit
had given to my air and manner all the insolence of seeming power, and,
while a mere boy in years, I was a man in all the easy assumption of a
certain importance.
It was with a bold and resolute air I entered the restaurant, and
calling Boivin aside, said
'I have business in the Temple this morning, Boivin; see to it that
I shall not be denied admittance.'
'I am not governor of the gaol,' grunted Boivin sulkily, 'nor have I
the privilege to pass any one.'
'But your boys have the entrée; the rats (so were they called) are
free to pass in and out.'
'Ay, and I'm responsible for the young rascals, too, and for
anything that may be laid to their charge.'
'And you shall extend this same protection to me, Master Boivin, for
one day, at leastnay, my good friend, there's no use in sulking about
it. A certain friend of ours, whose name I need not speak aloud, is
little in the habit of being denied anything; are you prepared for the
consequence of disobeying his orders?'
'Let me see that they are his orders,' said he sturdily'who tells
me that such is his will?'
'I do,' was my brief reply, as, with a look of consummate
effrontery, I drew myself up and stared him insolently in the face.
'Suppose, then, that I have my doubts on the mattersuppose'
'I will suppose all you wish, Boivin,' said I interrupting, 'and
even something more; for I will suppose myself returning to the quarter
whence I have just come, and within one houray, within one hour,
Boivinbringing back with me a written order, not to pass me into the
Temple, but to receive the body of the Citizen Jean Baptiste Boivin,
and be accountable for the same to the Committee of Public Safety.'
He trembled from head to foot as I said these words, and in his
shaking cheeks and fallen jaw I saw that my spell was working.
'And now, I ask for the last time, do you consent or not?'
'How is it to be done?' cried he, in a voice of downright
wretchedness. 'You are not inscribed at the secretaries' office as
one of the rats.'
'I should hope not,' said I, cutting him short; 'but I may take the
place of one for an hour or so. Tristan is about my own size; his
blouse and badge will just suit me.'
'Ay, leave me to a fine of a thousand francs, if you should be found
out,' muttered Boivin, 'not to speak of a worse mayhap.'
'Exactly sofar worse in case of your refusing; but there sounds
the bell for mustering the prisonersit is now too late.'
'Not sonot so,' cried Boivin, eagerly, as he saw me prepared to
leave the house. 'You shall go in Tristan's place. Send him here, that
he may tell you everything about the service, and give you his blouse
and badge.'
I was not slow in availing myself of the permission, nor was Tristan
sorry to find a substitute. He was a dull, depressed-looking boy, not
over communicative as to his functions, merely telling me that I was to
follow the othersthat I came fourth in the lineto answer when my
name was called 'Tristan,' and to put the money I received in my
leathern pocket, without uttering a word, lest the gaolers should
notice it.
To accoutre myself in the white cotton nightcap and the blouse of
the craft was the work of a few seconds; and then, with a great knife
in my girdle, and a capacious pocket slung at my side, I looked every
inch a 'Marmiton.'
In the kitchen the bustle had already begun, and half-a-dozen cooks,
with as many under-cooks, were dealing out 'portions' with all the
speed of a well-practised performance. Nothing short of great habit
could have prevented the confusion degenerating into downright anarchy.
The 'service' was, indeed, effected with a wonderful rapidity; and
certain phrases, uttered with speed, showed how it progressed. 'Maigre
des Curés,''finished.' 'Bouillon for the expectants,''ready
here.' 'Canards aux olives des condamnées,''all served.' 'Red
partridges for the reprieved at the upper table,''despatched.' Such
were the quick demands, and no less quick replies, that rung out,
amidst the crash of plates, knives, and glasses, and the incessant
movement of feet, until, at last, we were all marshalled in a long
line, and, preceded by a drum, set out for the prison.
As we drew near, the heavy gates opened to receive, and closed
behind us with a loud bang that I could not help feeling must have
smote heavily on many a heart that had passed there. We were now in a
large courtyard, where several doors led off, each guarded by a
sentinel, whose ragged clothes and rusty accoutrements proclaimed a
true soldier of the Republic. One of the large hurdles used for
carrying the prisoners to the Place stood in one corner, and two or
three workmen were busied in repairing it for the coming occasion.
So much I had time to observe, as we passed along; and now we
entered a dimly lighted corridor of great extent; passing down which,
we emerged into a second cour, traversed by a species of canal
or river, over which a bridge led. In the middle of this was a strongly
barred iron gate, guarded by two sentries. As we arrived here, our
names were called aloud by a species of turnkey; and at the call
'Tristan,' I advanced, and, removing the covers from the different
dishes, submitted them for inspection to an old, savage-looking fellow,
who, with a long steel fork, pricked the pieces of meat, as though
anything could have been concealed within them. Meanwhile, another
fellow examined my cotton cap and pocket, and passed his hands along my
arms and body. The whole did not last more than a few minutes, and the
word 'forward' was given to pass on. The gloom of the place-the
silence, only broken by the heavy bang of an iron-barred door, or the
clank of chains, the sad thoughts of the many who trod these corridors
on their way to deathdepressed me greatly, and equally unprepared me
for what was to come; for as we drew near the great hall, the busy hum
of voices, the sound of laughter, and the noises of a large assembly in
full converse, suddenly burst upon the ear; and as the wide doors were
thrown open, I beheld above a hundred people, who, either gathered in
single groups, or walking up and down in parties, seemed all in the
fullest enjoyment of social intercourse.
A great table, with here and there a large flagon of water, or a
huge loaf of the coarse bread used by the peasantry, ran from end to
end of the chamber. A few had already taken their places at this, but
some were satisfied with laying a cap or a kerchief on the bench
opposite their accustomed seat; while others again had retired into
windows and corners, as if to escape the general gaze, and partake of
their humble meal in solitude.
Whatever restrictions prison discipline might have exercised
elsewhere, here the widest liberty seemed to prevail. The talk was
loud, and even boisterous; the manner to the turnkeys exhibited nothing
of fear: the whole assemblage presented rather the aspect of a
gathering of riotous republicans than of a band of prisoners under
sentence. And yet such were the greater number, and the terrible slip
of paper attached to the back of each, with a date, told the day on
which he was to die.
As I lingered to gaze on this strange gathering, I was admonished to
move on, and now perceived that my companion had advanced to the end of
the hall, by which a small flight of stone steps led out upon a
terraceat the end of which we entered another and not less spacious
chamber, equally crowded and noisy. Here the company were of both
sexes, and of every grade and condition of rankfrom the highest noble
of the former Court, to the humblest peasant of La Vendee. If the
sounds of mirth and levity were less frequent, the buzz of conversation
was, to the full, as loud as in the lower hall, where, from difference
of condition in life, the scenes passing presented stranger and more
curious contrasts. In one corner a group of peasants were gathered
around a white-haired priest, who, in a low but earnest voice, was
uttering his last exhortation to them; in another, some young and
fashionably dressed men were exhibiting to a party of ladies the very
airs and graces by which they would have adorned a saloon; here, was a
party at piquetthere, a little group, arranging, for the last time,
their household cares, and settling, with a few small coins, the
account of mutual expenditure. Of the ladies, several were engaged at
needleworksome little preparation for the morrowthe last demand
that ever vanity was to make of them!
Although there was matter of curiosity in all around me, my eyes
sought for hut one object, the curé of St. Blois. Twice or thrice, from
the similarity of dress, I was deceived, and, at last, when I really
did behold him, as he sat alone in a window, reading, I could scarcely
satisfy myself of the reality, he was lividly pale, his eyes deep sunk,
and surrounded with two dark circles, while along his worn cheek the
tears had marked two channels of purple colour. What need of the
guillotine therethe lamp of life was in its last flicker without it.
Our names were called, and the meats placed upon the table. Just as
the head-turnkey was about to give the order to be seated, a loud
commotion, and a terrible uproar in the court beneath, drew every one
to the window. It was a hurdle which, emerging from an archway, broke
down from overcrowding; and now the confusion of prisoners, gaolers,
and sentries, with plunging horses and screaming sufferers, made a
scene of the wildest uproar. Chained two by two, the prisoners were
almost helpless, and in their efforts to escape injury made the most
terrific struggle. Such were the instincts of life in those on the very
road to death!
Resolving to profit by the moment of confusion, I hastened to the
window, where alone, unmoved by the general commotion, sat the Père
Michel. He lifted his glassy eyes as I came near, and in a low, mild
voice said
'Thanks, my good boy, but I have no money to pay thee; nor does it
matter much nowit is but another day.
I could have cried as I heard these sad words; but mastering
emotions which would have lost time so precious, I drew close, and
whispered
'Père Michel, it is I, your own Maurice.'
He started, and a deep flush suffused his cheek; and then stretching
out his hand, he pushed back my cap, and parted the hair of my
forehead, as if doubting the reality of what he saw; when with a weak
voice he said
'No, no, thou art not my own Maurice. His eyes shone not with that
worldly lustrethine do; his brow was calm, and fair as children's
should bethine is marked with manhood's craft and subtlety; and yet,
thou art like him.'
A low sob broke from me as I listened to his words, and the tears
gushed forth, and rolled in torrents down my cheeks.
'Yes,' cried he, clasping me in his arms, 'thou art my own dear boy.
I know thee now; but how art thou here, and thus?' and he touched my
blouse as he spoke.
'I came to see and to save you, père,' said I. 'Nay, do not try to
discourage me, but rather give me all your aid. I saw herI was with
her in her last moments at the guillotine; she gave me a message for
you, but this you shall never hear till we are without these walls.'
'It cannot be, it cannot be,' said he sorrowfully.
'It can and shall be,' said I resolutely. 'I have merely assumed
this dress for the occasion; I have friends, powerful and willing to
protect me. Let us change robesgive me that soutane, and put on the
blouse. When you leave this, hasten to the old garden of the chapel,
and wait for my comingI will join you there before night.'
'It cannot be,' replied he again.
'Again I say, it shall, and must be. Nay, if you still refuse, there
shall be two victims, for I will tear off the dress here where I stand,
and openly declare myself the son of the Royalist Tiernay.'
Already the commotion in the court beneath was beginning to subside,
and even now the turnkeys' voices were heard in the refectory,
recalling the prisoners to tableanother moment and it would have been
too late: it was, then, less by persuasion than by actual force I
compelled him to yield, and, pulling off his black serge gown, drew
over his shoulders my yellow blouse, and placed upon his head the white
cap of the 'Marmiton.' The look of shame and sorrow of the poor curé
would have betrayed him at once, if any had given themselves the
trouble to look at him.
'And thou, my poor child,' said he, as he saw me array myself in his
priestly dress, 'what is to be thy fate?'
'All will depend upon you, Père Michel,' said I, holding him by the
arm, and trying to fix his wandering attention. 'Once out of the
prison, write to Boivin, the restaurateur of the Scélérat, and tell
him that an escaped convict has scruples for the danger into which he
has brought a poor boy, one of his Marmitons, and whom by a noxious
drug he has lulled into insensibility, while, having exchanged clothes,
he has managed his escape. Boivin will comprehend the danger he himself
runs by leaving me here. All will go well-and now there's not a
moment to lose. Take up your basket, and follow the others.'
'But the falsehood of all this,' cried the père.
'But your life, and mine, too, lost, if you refuse,' said I, pushing
him away.
'Oh, Maurice, how changed have you become!' cried he sorrowfully.
'You will see a greater change in me yet, as I lie in the sawdust
beneath the scaffold,' said I hastily. 'Go, go.'
There was, indeed, no more time to lose. The muster of the prisoners
was forming at one end of the chamber, while the 'Marmitons' were
gathering up their plates and dishes, previous to departure, at the
other; and it was only by the decisive step of laying myself down
within the recesses of the window, in the attitude of one overcome by
sleep, that I could force him to obey my direction. I could feel his
presence as he bent over me, and muttered something that must have been
a prayer. I could know, without seeing, that he still lingered near me,
but as I never stirred, he seemed to feel that my resolve was not to be
shaken, and at last he moved slowly away.
At first the noise and clamour sounded like the crash of some
desperate conflict, but by degrees this subsided, and I could hear the
names called aloud and the responses of the prisoners, as they were
'told off' in parties from the different parts of the prison. Tender
leave-takings and affectionate farewells from many who never expected
to meet again, accompanied these, and the low sobs of anguish were
mingled with the terrible chaos of voices; and at last I heard the name
of 'Michel Delannois': I felt as if my death-summons was in the words
'Michel Delannois,'
'That crazy priest can neither hear nor see, I believe,' said the
gaoler savagely. 'Will no one answer for him?'
'He is asleep yonder in the window,' replied a voice from the crowd.
'Let him sleep then,' said the turnkey; 'when awake he gives us no
peace with his prayers and exhortations.'
'He has eaten nothing for three days,' observed another; 'he is,
perhaps, overcome by weakness more than by sleep.'
'Be it so! if he only lie quiet, I care not,' rejoined the gaoler,
and proceeded to the next name on the list.
The monotonous roll-call, the heat, the attitude in which I was
lying, all conspired to make me drowsy: even the very press of
sensations that crowded to my brain lent their aid, and at last I slept
as soundly as ever I had done in my bed at night. I was dreaming of the
dark alleys in the wood of Belleville, where so often I had strolled of
an evening with Père Michel: I was fancying that we were gathering the
fresh violets beneath the old trees, when a rude hand shook my
shoulder, and I awoke. One of the turnkeys and Boivin stood over me,
and I saw at once that my plan had worked well.
'Is this the fellow?' said the turnkey, pushing me rudely with his
foot.
'Yes,' replied Boivin, white with fear; 'this is the boy; his name
is Tristan.' The latter words were accompanied with a look of great
significance towards me.
'What care we how he is called! let us hear in what manner he came
here.'
'I can tell you little,' said I, staring and looking wildly around;
'I must have been asleep, and dreaming, too.'
'The letter,' whispered Boivin to the turnkey'the letter says that
he was made to inhale some poisonous drug, and that while
insensible'
'Bah,' said the other derisively, 'this will not gain credit here;
there has been complicity in the affair, Master Boivin. The commissaire
is not the man to believe a trumped-up tale of the sort; besides, you
are well aware that you are responsible for these rats of yours. It
is a private arrangement between you and the commissaire, and it is not
very probable that he'll get himself into a scrape for you.'
'Then what are we to do?' cried Boivin passionately, as he wrung his
hands in despair.
'I know what I should, in a like case,' was the dry reply.
'And that is?-'
'Laisser aller! was the curt rejoinder. 'The young rogue has
passed for a curé for the last afternoon; I'd even let him keep up the
disguise a little longer, and it will be all the same by this time
to-morrow.'
'You'd send me to the guillotine for another?' said I boldly;
'thanks for the good intention, my friend; but Boivin knows better than
to follow your counsel. Hear me one moment,' said I, addressing the
latter, and drawing him to one side'if you don't liberate me within a
quarter of an hour, I'll denounce you and yours to the commissary. I
know well enough what goes on at the Scélérat,you understand me
well. If a priest has really made his escape from the prison, you are
not clean-handed enough to meet the accusation; see to it then, Boivin,
that I may be free at once.'
'Imp of Satan,' exclaimed Boivin, grinding his teeth, 'I have never
enjoyed ease or quietness since the first hour I saw you.'
'It may cost a couple of thousand francs, Boivin,' said I calmly;
'but what then? Better that than take your seat along with us to-morrow
in the Charrette Rouge.'
'Maybe he's right, after all,' muttered the turnkey in a
half-whisper; 'speak to the commissary.'
'Yes,' said I, affecting an air of great innocence and
simplicity'tell him that a poor orphan boy, without friends or home,
claims his pity.'
'Scélérat infâme!' cried Boivin, as he shook his fist at me,
and then followed the turnkey to the commissary's apartment.
In less time than I could have believed possible, Boivin returned
with one of the upper gaolers, and told me, in a few dry words, that I
was free. 'But, mark me,' added he, 'we part herecome what may, you
never shall plant foot within my doors again.'
'Agreed,' said I gaily; 'the world has other dupes as easy to play
upon, and I was getting well nigh weary of you.'
'Listen to the scoundrel!' muttered Boivin; 'what will he say next?'
'Simply this,' rejoined I'that as these are not becoming garments
for me to wearfor I'm neither père nor frèreI must
have others ere I quit this.'
If the insolence of my demand occasioned some surprise at first, a
little cool persistence on my part showed that compliance would be the
better policy; and, after conferring together for a few minutes, during
which I heard the sound of money, the turnkey retired, and came back
speedily with a jacket and cap belonging to one of the drummers of the
Republican Guarda gaudy, tasteless affair enough, but, as a disguise,
nothing could have been more perfect.
'Have you not a drum to give him?' said Boivin, with a most
malignant sneer at my equipment.
'He 'll make a noise in the world without that,' muttered the
gaoler, half soliloquising; and the words fell upon my heart with a
strange significance.
'Your blessing, Boivin,' said I, 'and we part.' 'Le te'
'No, no; don't curse the boy,' interposed the gaoler
good-humouredly.
'Then, move off, youngster; I've lost too much time with you
already.'
The next moment I was in the Place; a light misty rain was falling,
and the night was dark and starless. The 'Scélérat' was brilliant with
lamps and candles, and crowds were passing in and out; but it was no
longer a home for me, so I passed on, and continued my way towards the
Boulevard.
CHAPTER IV. 'THE NIGHT OF THE NINTH
THERMIDOR'
I had agreed with the Père Michel to rendezvous at the garden of the
little chapel of St. Blois, and thitherward I now turned my steps.
The success which followed this my first enterprise in life had
already worked a wondrous change in all my feelings. Instead of looking
up to the poor curé for advice and guidance, I felt as though our parts
were exchanged, and that it was I who was now the protector of the
other. The oft-repeated sneers at les bons Prêtres, who were
good for nothing, must have had a share in this new estimate of my
friend, but a certain self-reliance just then springing up in my heart
effectually completed the change.
The period was essentially one of action and not of reflection.
Events seemed to fashion themselves at the will of him who had daring
and courage to confront them, and they alone appeared weak and
poor-spirited who would not stem the tide of fortune. Sentiments like
these were not, as may be supposed, best calculated to elevate the
worthy père in my esteem, and I already began to feel how unsuited was
such companionship for me, whose secret promptings whispered ever, 'Go
forward.'
The very vagueness of my hopes served but to extend the horizon of
futurity before me, and I fancied a thousand situations of distinction
that might yet be mine. Fameor its poor counterfeit,
notorietyseemed the most enviable of all possessions. It mattered
little by what merits it was won, for, in that fickle mood of popular
opinion, great vices were as highly prized as transcendent abilities,
and one might be as illustrious by crime as by genius. Such were not
the teachings of the père; but they were the lessons that Paris dinned
into my ears unceasingly. Reputation, character, was of no avail, in a
social condition where all was change and vacillation. What was
idolised one day was execrated the next day. The hero of yesterday was
the object of popular vengeance to-day. The success of the passing hour
was everything.
The streets were crowded as I passed along; although a drizzling
rain was falling, groups and knots of people were gathered together at
every corner, and, by their eager looks and gestures, showed that some
event of great moment had occurred. I stopped to ask what it meant, and
learned that Robespierre had been denounced in the Assembly, and that
his followers were hastening, in arms, to the Place de Grève. As yet,
men spoke in whispers, or broken phrases. Many were seen affectionately
embracing and clasping each other's hands in passionate emotion; but
few dared to trust themselves to words, for none knew if the peril were
really passed, or if the power of the tyrant might not become greater
than ever. While I yet listened to the tidings, which, in
half-sentences and broken words, reached my ears, the roll of drums,
beating the générale, was heard, and suddenly the head of a
column appeared, carrying torches, and seated upon ammunition-waggons
and caissons, and chanting in wild chorus the words of the
'Marseillaise.' On they came, a terrible host of half-naked wretches,
their heads bound in handkerchiefs, and their brawny arms bare to the
shoulders.
The artillery of the Municipale followed, many of the magistrates
riding amongst them dressed in the tricoloured scarfs of officers. As
the procession advanced, the crowds receded, and gradually the streets
were left free to the armed force.
While, terror-struck, I continued to gaze at the countenances over
which the lurid torchlight cast a horrid glare, a strong hand grasped
my collar, and by a jerk swung me up to a seat on one of the caissons;
and at the same time a deep voice said, 'Come, youngster, this is more
in thy way than mine,' and a black-bearded sapeur pushed a drum
before me, and ordered me to beat the générale. Such was the din
and uproar that my performance did not belie my uniform, and I beat
away manfully, scarcely sorry, amid all my fears, at the elevated
position from which I now surveyed the exciting scene around me.
As we passed, the shops were closed on either side in haste, and
across the windows of the upper storeys beds and mattresses were
speedily drawn, in preparation for the state of siege now so imminent.
Lights flickered from room to room, and all betokened a degree of alarm
and terror. Louder and louder pealed the 'Marseillaise,' as the columns
deployed into the open Place, from which every street and lane now
poured its crowds of armed men. The line was now formed by the
artillery, which, to the number of sixteen pieces, ranged from end to
end of the square, the dense crowd of horse and foot forming behind,
the mass dimly lighted by the waving torches that here and there marked
the presence of an officer. Gradually the sounds of the 'Marseillaise'
grew fainter and fainter, and soon a dreary silence pervaded that
varied host, more terrible now, as they stood speechless, than in all
the tumultuous din of the wildest uproar. Meanwhile, from the streets
which opened into the Place at the farthest ends, the columns of the
National Guard began to move up, the leading files carrying torches;
behind them came ten pieces of artillery, which, as they issued, were
speedily placed in battery, and flanked by the heavy dragoons of the
Guard; and now, in breathless silence, the two forces stood regarding
each other, the cannoniers with lighted matches in their hands, the
dragoons firmly clasping their sabresall but waiting for the word to
plunge into the deadliest strife. It was a terrible momentthe
slightest stir in the ranksthe rattling of a horse's panoplythe
clank of a sabrefell upon the heart like the toll of a death-bell. It
was then that two or three horsemen were seen to advance from the
troops of the Convention, and, approaching the others, were speedily
lost among their ranks. A low and indistinct murmur ran along the
lines, which each moment grew louder, till at last it burst forth into
a cry of 'Vive la Convention!' Quitting their ranks, the men
gathered around a general of the National Guard, who addressed them in
words of passionate eloquence, but of which I was too distant to hear
anything. Suddenly the ranks began to thin; some were seen to pile
their arms, and move away in silence; others marched across the Place,
and took up their position beside the troops of the National Guard; of
the cannoniers, many threw down their matches, and extinguished the
flame with their feet, while others again, limbering up their guns,
slowly retired to the barracks.
As for myself, too much interested in the scene to remember that I
was, in some sort, an actor in it, I sat upon the caisson, watching all
that went forward so eagerly, that I never noticed the departure of my
companions, nor perceived that I was left by myself. I know not how
much later this discovery might have been deferred to me had not an
officer of the Guard ridden up to where I was, and said, 'Move up, move
up, my lad; keep close to the battery.' He pointed at the same time
with his sabre in the direction where a number of guns and carriages
were already proceeding.
Not a little flattered by the order, I gathered up reins and whip,
and, thanks to the good drilling of the beasts, who readily took their
proper places, soon found myself in the line, which now drew up in the
rear of the artillery of the Guard, separated from the front by a great
mass of horse and foot. I knew nothing of what went forward in the
Place; from what I gathered, however, I could learn that the artillery
was in position, the matches burning, and everything in readiness for a
cannonade. Thus we remained for above an hour, when the order was given
to march. Little knew I that, in that brief interval, the whole
fortunes of Franceay, of humanity itselfhad undergone a mighty
changethat the terrible reign of blood, the tyranny of Robespierre,
had closed, and that he who had sent so many to the scaffold now lay
bleeding and mutilated upon the very table where he had signed the
death-warrants.
The day was just beginning to dawn as we entered the barracks of the
Conciergerie, and drew up in a double line along its spacious square.
The men dismounted, and stood 'at ease,' awaiting the arrival of the
staff of the National Guard, which, it was said, was coming; and now
the thought occurred to me of what I should best do, whether make my
escape while it was yet time, or remain to see by what accident I had
come there. If a sense of duty to the Père Michel urged me on one side,
the glimmering hope of some opening to fortune swayed me on the other.
I tried to persuade myself that my fate was bound up with his, and that
he should be my guide through the wild waste before me; but these
convictions could not stand against the very scene in which I stood.
The glorious panoply of warthe harnessed teamthe helmeted
dragoonthe proud steed in all the trappings of battle! How faint were
the pleadings of duty against such arguments! The père, too, designed
me for a priest. The life of a seminarist in a convent was to be mine!
I was to wear the red gown and the white cape of an acolyte!to be
taught how to swing a censer, or snuff the candles of the high
altarto be a train-bearer in a procession, or carry a relic in a
glass-case! The hoarse bray of a trumpet that then rung through the
court routed these ignoble fancies, and as the staff rode proudly in,
my resolve was taken. I was determined to be a soldier.
The day, I have said, was just breaking, and the officers wore their
dark-grey capotes over their uniforms. One, however, had his coat
partly open, and I could see the blue and silver beneath, which,
tarnished and worn as it was, had to my eyes all the brilliancy of a
splendid uniform. He was an old man, and by his position in advance of
the others showed that he was the chief of the staff. This was General
Lacoste, at that time en mission from the army of the Rhine, and
now sent by the Convention to report upon the state of events among the
troops. Slowly passing along the line, the old general halted before
each gun, pointing out to his staff certain minutiæ, which, from his
gestures and manner, it was easy to see were not the subject of eulogy.
Many of the pieces were ill slung, and badly balanced on the trucks;
the wheels, in some cases, were carelessly put on, their tires worn,
and the iron shoeing defective. The harnessing, too, was patched and
mended in a slovenly fashion; the horses lean and out of condition; the
drivers awkward and inexperienced.
'This is all bad, gentlemen,' said he, addressing the officers, but
in a tone to be easily heard all around him, 'and reflects but little
credit upon the state of your discipline in the capital. We have been
now seventeen months in the field before the enemy, and not idle
either; and yet I would take shame to myself if the worst battery in
our artillery were not better equipped, better horsed, better driven,
and better served, than any I see here.'
One who seemed a superior officer here appeared to interpose some
explanation or excuse, but the general would not listen to him, and
continued his way along the linepassing around which he now entered
the space between the guns and the caissons. At last he stopped
directly in front of where I was, and fixed his dark and penetrating
eyes steadily on me. Such was their fascination that I could not look
from him, but continued to stare as fixedly at him.
[Illustration: 80]
'Look here, for instance,' cried he, as he pointed to me with his
sword, 'is that gamin yonder like an artillery-driver? or is it
to a drummer-boy you intrust the caisson of an eight-pounder gun?
Dismount, sirrah, and come hither,' cried he to me, in a voice that
sounded like an order for instant execution. 'This popinjay dress of
yours must have been the fancy of some worthy shopkeeper of the 'Quai
Lepelletier'; it never could belong to any regular corps. Who are you?'
'Maurice Tiernay, sir,' said I, bringing my hand to my cap in
military salute.
'Maurice Tiernay,' repeated he, slowly, after me. 'And have you no
more to say for yourself than your name?'
'Very little, sir,' said I, taking courage from the difficulty in
which I found myself.
'What of your father, boy?is he a soldier?'
'He was, sir,' replied I, with firmness.
'Then he is dead? In what corps did he serve?'
'In the Garde du Corps,' said I proudly.
The old general gave a short cough, and seemed to search for his
snuff-box to cover his confusion; the next moment, however, he had
regained his self-possession, and continued: 'And since that eventI
mean since you lost your fatherwhat have you been doing? How have you
supported yourself?'
'In various ways, sir, said I, with a shrug of the shoulders, to
imply that the answer was too tedious to listen to. 'I have studied to
be a priest, and I have served as a rat in the Prison du Temple.'
'You have certainly tried the extremes of life,' said he, laughing;
'and now you wish, probably, to hit the juste milieu, by
becoming a soldier?'
'Even so, sir,' said I easily. 'It was a mere accident that mounted
me upon this caisson, but I am quite ready to believe that Fortune
intended me kindly when she did so.'
'These gredins fancy that they are all born to be generals of
France, said the old man, laughing; 'but, after all, it is a harmless
delusion, and easily curable by a campaign or two. Come, sirrah, I'll
find out a place for you, where, if you cannot serve the Republic
better, you will, at least, do her less injury than as a driver in her
artillery. Bertholet, let him be enrolled in your detachment of the
gendarme, and give him my addressI wish to speak to him to-morrow.'
'At what hour, general?' said I promptly.
'At eight, or half-pastafter breakfast,' replied he.
'It may easily be before mine,' muttered I to myself.
'What says he?' cried the general sharply.
The aide-de-camp whispered a few words in answer, at which the other
smiled, and said, 'Let him come somewhat earliersay eight o'clock.'
'You hear that, boy?' said the aide-de-camp to me, while with a
slight gesture he intimated that I might retire. Then, as if suddenly
remembering that he had not given me the address of the general, he
took a scrap of crumpled paper from his pocket-book, and wrote a few
words hastily on it with his pencil. 'There,' cried he, throwing it
towards me, 'there is your billet for this day, at least.' I caught the
scrap of paper, and, after deciphering the words, perceived that they
were written on the back of an assignat for forty sous.
It was a large sum to one who had not wherewithal to buy a morsel of
bread; and as I looked at it over and over, I fancied there would be no
end to the pleasures such wealth could purchase. I can breakfast on the
Quai Voltaire, thought Iay, and sumptuously too, with coffee and
chestnuts, and a slice of melon, and another of cheese, and a petite
goutte to finish, for five sous. The panther, at the corner of the
Pont Neuf, costs but a sou; and for three one can see the brown bear of
America, the hyæna, and another beast whose name I forget, but whose
image, as he is represented outside, carrying off a man in his teeth, I
shall retain to my last hour. Then there is the panorama of Dunkirk, at
the Rue Chopart, with the Duke of York begging his life from a
terrible-looking soldier in a red cap and a tricoloured scarf. After
that, there's the parade at the 'Carrousel'; and mayhap something more
solemn still at the 'Grève'; but there was no limit to the throng of
enjoyments which came rushing to my imagination, and it was in a kind
of ecstasy of delight I set forth on my voyage of pleasure.
CHAPTER V. THE CHOICE OF A LIFE
In looking back, after a long lapse of years, I cannot refrain from
a feeling of astonishment to think how little remembrance I possess of
the occurrences of that dayone of the most memorable that ever dawned
for Francethe eventful 29th of July, that closed the reign of terror
by the death of the tyrant! It is true, that all Paris was astir at
daybreak; that a sense of national vengeance seemed to pervade the vast
masses that filled the streets, which now were scenes of the most
exciting emotion. I can only account for the strange indifference that
I felt about these stirring themes by the frequency with which similar,
or what to me at least appeared similar, scenes had already passed
before my eyes.
One of the most remarkable phases of the revolution was the change
it produced in all the social relations by substituting an assumed
nationality for the closer and dearer ties of kindred and affection.
France was everythingthe family nothing; every generous wish, every
proud thought, every high ambition or noble endeavour, belonged to the
country. In this way, whatever patriotism may have gained, certainly
all the home affections were utterly wrecked; the humble and
unobtrusive virtues of domestic life seemed mean and insignificant
beside the grand displays of patriotic devotion which each day
exhibited.
Hence grew the taste for that 'life of the streets' then so
populareverything should be en évidence. All the emotions
which delicacy would render sacred to the seclusion of home were now to
be paraded to the noonday. Fathers were reconciled to rebellious
children before the eyes of multitudes; wives received forgiveness from
their husbands in the midst of approving crowds; leave-takings the most
affecting; partings, for those never to meet again; the last utterings
of the death-bed; the faint whispers of expiring affection; the
imprecations of undying hateall, all were exhibited in public, and
the gaze of the low, the vulgar, and the debauched associated with the
most agonising griefs that ever the heart endured. The scenes, which
now are shrouded in all the secrecy of domestic privacy, were then the
daily life of Paris; and to this cause alone can I attribute the
hardened indifference with which events the most terrible and
heart-rending were witnessed. Bred up amidst such examples, I saw
little matter for emotion in scenes of harrowing interest. An air of
mockery was on everything, and a bastard classicality destroyed every
semblance of truth in whatever would have been touching and affecting.
The commotion of Paris on that memorable morning was, then, to my
thinking, little more than usual If the crowds who pressed their way to
the Place de la Revolution were greaterif the cries of vengeance were
in louder utteranceif the imprecations were deeper and more
terriblethe ready answer that satisfied all curiosity wasit was
Robespierre who was on his way to be executed. Little knew I what hung
upon that life! and how the fate of millions depended upon the blood
that morning was to shed! Too full of myself and my own projects, I
disengaged myself from the crowds that pressed eagerly towards the
Tuileries, and took my way by less-frequented streets in the direction
of the Boulevard Mont Parnasse.
I wished, if possible, to see the père once more, to take a last
farewell of him, and ask his blessing, too; for still a lingering faith
in the lessons he had taught me continued to haunt my mind amidst all
the evil influences with which my wayward life surrounded me. The
further I went from the quarter of the Tuileries, the more deserted and
solitary grew the streets. Not a carriage or horseman was to be
seenscarcely a foot-passenger. All Paris had, apparently, assembled
on the Place de la Révolution; and the very beggars had quitted their
accustomed haunts to repair thither. Even the distant hum of the vast
multitude faded away, and it was only as the wind bore them that I
could catch the sounds of the hoarse cries that bespoke a people's
vengeance. And now I found myself in the little silent street which
once had been my home. I stood opposite the house where we used to
live, afraid to enter it lest I might compromise the safety of her I
wished to save, and yet longing once more to see the little chamber
where we once sat togetherthe chimney-corner where, in the dark
nights of winter, I nestled, with my hymn-book, and tried to learn the
rhymes that every plash of the falling hail against the windows
routedto lie down once more in the little bed, where so often I had
passed whole nights of happy imaginingsbright thoughts of a peaceful
future that were never to be realised!
Half choking with my emotion, I passed on, and soon saw the green
fields, and the windmill-covered hill of Montmartre rising above the
embankment of the Boulevardsand now the ivy-clothed wall of the
garden, within which stood the chapel of St. Blois. The gate lay ajar
as of old, and, pushing it open, I entered. Everything was exactly as I
had left itthe same desolation and desertion everywhereso much so,
that I almost fancied no human foot had crossed its dreary precincts
since last I was there. On drawing nigh to the chapel, I found the door
fast barred and barricaded as before; but a window lay open, and on
examining it closer I discovered the marks of a recent foot-track on
the ground and the window-sill. Could the Père Michel have been there?
was the question that at once occurred to my mind. Had the poor priest
come to take a last look and a farewell of a spot so dear to him? It
could scarcely have been any other. There was nothing to tempt cupidity
in that humble little church; an image of the 'Virgin and Child' in wax
was the only ornament of the altar. No, no; pillage had never been the
motive of him who entered here.
Thus reasoning, I climbed up to the window, and entered the chapel.
As my footsteps echoed through the silent building, I felt that sense
of awe and reverence so inseparably connected with a place of worship,
and which is ever more impressive still as we stand in it alone. The
present, however, was less before me than the past, of which everything
reminded me. There was the seat the marquise used to sit inthere the
footstool I had so often placed at her feet. How different was the last
service I had rendered her! There the pillar, beside which I have stood
spell-bound, gazing at that fair face, whose beauty arrested the
thoughts that should have wended heavenward, and made my muttered
prayers like offerings to herself. The very bouquet of flowers some
pious hand had placed beneath the shrinewithered and fadedwas there
still. But where were they whose beating hearts had throbbed with deep
devotion? How many had died upon the scaffold!how many were still
lingering in imprisonment, some in exile, some in concealment, dragging
out lives of misery and anxiety! What was the sustaining spirit of such
martyrdom? I asked myself again and again. Was it the zeal of true
religion, or was it the energy of loyalty that bore them up against
every danger, and enabled them to brave death itself with
firmness?and if this faith of theirs was thus ennobling, why could
not France be of one mind and heart? There came no answer to these
doubts of mine, and I slowly advanced towards the altar, still deeply
buried in thought. What was my surprise to see that two candles stood
there, which bore signs of having been recently lighted. At once the
whole truth flashed across methe père had been there; he had come to
celebrate a massthe last, perhaps, he was ever to offer up at that
altar. I knew with what warm affection he loved every object and every
spot endeared to him by long time, and I fancied to myself the
overflowing of his heart as he entered once more, and for the last
time, the little temple, associated with all the joys and sorrows of
his existence. Doubtless, too, he had waited anxiously for my coming;
mayhap in the prayers he offered I was not forgotten. I thought of him
kneeling there, in the silence of the night, alone, as he was, his
gentle voice the only sound in the stillness of the hour, his pure
heart throbbing with gratitude for his deliverance, and prayerful hopes
for those who had been his persecutors. I thought over all this, and,
in a torrent of emotions, I knelt down before the altar to pray. I know
not what words I uttered, but his name must somehow have escaped my
lips, for suddenly a door opened beside the altar, and the Père Michel,
dressed in his full vestments, stood before me. His features, wan and
wasted as they were, had regained their wonted expression of calm
dignity, and by his look I saw that he would not suffer the sacred spot
to be profaned by any outburst of feeling on either side.
'Those dreadful shouts tell of another massacre,' said he solemnly,
as the wind bore towards us the deafening cries of the angry multitude.
'Let us pray for the souls' rest of the departed.'
'Then will your prayers be offered for Robespierre, for Couthon, and
St. Just,' said I boldly.
'And who are they who need more the saints' intercessionwho have
ever been called to judgment with such crimes to expiatewho have ever
so widowed France, and so desecrated her altars? Happily, a few yet
remain where piety may kneel to implore pardon for their iniquity. Let
us recite the Litany for the Dead,' said he solemnly, and at once began
the impressive service.
As I knelt beside the rails of the altar, and heard the prayers
which, with deep devotion, he uttered, I could not help feeling the
contrast between that touching evidence of Christian charity and the
tumultuous joy of the populace, whose frantic bursts of triumph were
borne on the air.
'And now come with me, Maurice,' said he, as the Litany was
concluded. 'Here, in this little sacristy, we are safe from all
molestation; none will think of us on such a day as this.'
And as he spoke he drew his arm around me, and led me into the
little chamber where once the precious vessels and the decorations of
the church were kept.
'Here we are safe,' said he, as he drew me to his side on the oaken
bench, which formed all the furniture of the room. 'To-morrow, Maurice,
we must leave this, and seek an asylum in another land; but we are not
friendless, my childthe brothers of the Sacred Heart will receive
us. Their convent is in the wilds of the Ardennes, beyond the frontiers
of France, and there, beloved by the faithful peasantry, they live in
security and peace. We need not take the vows of their order, which is
one of the strictest of all religious houses; but we may claim their
hospitality and protection, and neither will be denied us. Think what a
blessed existence will that be, Maurice, my son, to dwell under the
same roof with these holy men, and to imbibe from them the peace of
mind that holiness alone bestows; to awake at the solemn notes of the
pealing organ, and to sink to rest with the glorious liturgies still
chanting around you; to feel an atmosphere of devotion on every side,
and to see the sacred relics whose miracles have attested the true
faith in ages long past. Does it not stir thy heart, my child, to know
that such blessed privileges may be thine?'
I hung my head in silence, for, in truth, I felt nothing of the
enthusiasm with which he sought to inspire me. The père quickly saw
what passed in my mind, and endeavoured to depict the life of the
monastery as a delicious existence, embellished by all the graces of
literature, and adorned by the pleasures of intellectual converse.
Poetry, romance, scenery, all were pressed into the service of his
persuasions; but how weak were such arguments to one like me, the boy
whose only education had been what the streets of Paris affordedwhose
notions of eloquence were formed on the insane ravings of 'The
Mountain,' and whose idea of greatness was centred in mere notoriety!
My dreamy look of inattention showed him again that he had failed;
and I could see, in the increased pallor of his face, the quivering
motion of his lip, the agitation the defeat was costing him.
'Alas! alas!' cried he passionately, 'the work of ruin is perfect;
the mind of youth is corrupted, and the fountain of virtue denied at
the very source. O Maurice, I had never thought this possible of thee,
the child of my heart!'
A burst of grief here overcame him; for some minutes he could not
speak. At last he arose from his seat, and wiping off the tears that
covered his cheeks with his robe, spoke, but in a voice whose full
round tones contrasted strongly with his former weak accents.
'The life I have pictured seems to thee ignoble and unworthy, boy.
So did it not appear to Chrysostom, to Origen, and to Augustineto the
blessed saints of our Church, the eldest-born of Christianity. Be it
so. Thine, mayhap, is not the age, nor this the era, in which to hope
for better things. Thy heart yearns for heroic actionsthy spirit is
set upon high ambitionsbe it so. I say, never was the time more
fitting for thee. The enemy is up; his armies are in the field;
thousands and tens of thousands swell the ranks, already flushed with
victory. Be a soldier, then. Ay, Maurice, buckle on the swordthe
battlefield is before thee. Thou hast made choice to seek the enemy in
the far-away countries of heathen darkness, or here in our own native
France, where his camp is already spread. If danger be the lure that
tempts theeif to confront peril be thy wishthere is enough of it.
Be a soldier, then, and gird thee for the great battle that is at hand.
Ay, boy, if thou feelest within thee the proud darings that foreshadow
success, speak the word, and thou shalt be a standard-bearer in the
very van.'
I waited not for more; but springing up, I clasped my arms around
his neck, and cried, in ecstasy, 'Yes! Père Michel, you have guessed
aright, my heart's ambition is to be a soldier, and I want but your
blessing to be a brave one.'
'And thou shalt have it. A thousand blessings follow those who go
forth to the good fight. But thou art yet young, Mauricetoo young for
this. Thou needest time, and much teaching, too. He who would brave the
enemy before us, must be skilful as well as courageous. Thou art as yet
but a child.'
'The general said he liked boy-soldiers,' said I promptly; 'he told
me so himself.'
'What generalwho told thee?' cried the père, in trembling
eagerness.
'General Lacoste, the Chef d'État-major of the army of the Rhine;
the same who gave me a rendezvous for to-morrow at his quarters.'
It was not till I had repeated my explanation again and again, nor,
indeed, until I had recounted all the circumstances of my last night's
adventure, that the poor père could be brought to see his way through a
mystery that had almost become equally embarrassing to myself. When he
did, however, detect the clue, and when he had perceived the different
tracks on which our minds were travelling, his grief burst all bounds.
He inveighed against the armies of the Republic as hordes of pillagers
and bandits, the sworn enemies of the Church, the desecrators of her
altars. Their patriotism he called a mere pretence to shroud their
infidelity. Their heroism was the bloodthirstiness of democratic
cruelty. Seeing me still unmoved by all this passionate declamation, he
adopted another tactic, and suddenly asked me if it were for such a
cause as this my father had been a soldier?
'No!' replied I firmly; 'for when my father was alive, the soil of
France had not been desecrated by the foot of the invader. The
Austrian, the Prussian, the Englishman, had not yet dared to dictate
the laws under which we were to live.'
He appeared thunderstruck at my reply, revealing, as it seemed to
him, the extent of those teachings, whose corruptions he trembled at.
'I knew it, I knew it!' cried he bitterly, as he wrung his hands.
'The seed of the iniquity is sownthe harvest-time will not be long in
coming! And so, boy, thou hast spoken with one of these menthese
generals, as they call themselves, of that republican horde?'
'The officer who commands the artillery of the army of the Rhine may
write himself general with little presumption,' said I, almost angrily.
'They who once led our armies to battle were the nobles of
Francemen whose proud station was the pledge for their chivalrous
devotion. But why do I discuss the question with thee? He who deserts
his faith may well forget that his birth was noble. Go, boy, join those
with whom your heart is already linked. Tour lesson will be an easy
oneyou have nothing to unlearn. The songs of the Girondins are
already more grateful to your ear than our sacred canticles. Go, I say,
since between us henceforth there can be no companionship.'
'Will you not bless me, père,' said I, approaching him in deep
humility; 'will you not let me carry with me thy benediction?'
'How shall I bless the arm that is lifted to wound the Holy
Church?how shall I pray for one whose place is in the ranks of the
infidel? Hadst thou faith in my blessing, boy, thou hadst never
implored it in such a cause. Renounce thy treasonand not alone my
blessing, but thou shalt have a 'Novena' to celebrate thy fidelity. Be
of us, Maurice, and thy name shall be honoured where honour is
immortality.'
The look of beaming affection with which he uttered this, more than
the words themselves, now shook my courage, and, in a conflict of doubt
and indecision, I held down my head without speaking. What might have
been my ultimate resolve, if left completely to myself, I know not; but
at that very moment a detachment of soldiers marched past in the street
without. They were setting off to join the army of the Rhine, and were
singing in joyous chorus the celebrated song of the day, 'Le chant du
départ.' The tramp of their feetthe clank of their weaponstheir
mellow voicesbut, more than all, the associations that thronged to my
mind, routed every other thought, and I darted from the spot, and never
stopped till I reached the street.
A great crowd followed the detachment, composed partly of friends of
the soldiers, partly of the idle loungers of the capital. Mixing with
these, I moved onward, and speedily passed the outer boulevard and
gained the open country.
CHAPTER VI. 'THE ARMY SIXTY YEARS
SINCE'
I followed the soldiers as they marched beyond the outer boulevard
and gained the open country. Many of the idlers dropped off here;
others accompanied us a little farther; but at length, when the drums
ceased to beat, and were slung in marching order on the backs of the
drummers, when the men broke into the open order that French soldiers
instinctively assume on a march, the curiosity of the gazers appeared
to have nothing more to feed upon, and one by one they returned to the
capital, leaving me the only lingerer.
To any one accustomed to military display, there was little to
attract notice in the column, which consisted of detachments from
various corps, horse, foot, and artillery; some were returning to their
regiments after a furlough; some had just issued from the hospitals,
and were seated in charrettes, or country cars; and others,
again, were peasant boys only a few days before drawn in the
conscription. There was every variety of uniform, and, I may add, of
raggedness, tooa coarse blouse and a pair of worn shoes, with a red
or blue handkerchief on the head, being the dress of many among them.
The Republic was not rich in those days, and cared little for the
costume in which her victories were won. The artillery alone seemed to
preserve anything like uniformity in dress. They wore a plain uniform
of blue, with long white gaiters coming half-way up the thigh; a low
cocked-hat, without feather, but with the tricoloured cockade in front.
They were mostly men middle aged, or past the prime of life, bronzed,
weather-beaten, hardy-looking fellows, whose white moustaches
contrasted well with their sun-burned faces. All their weapons and
equipments were of a superior kind, and showed the care bestowed upon
an arm whose efficiency was the first discovery of the republican
generals. The greater number of these were Bretons, and several of them
had served in the fleet, still bearing in their looks and carriage
something of that air which seems inherent in the seaman. They were
grave, serious, and almost stern in manner, and very unlike the young
cavalry soldiers, who, mostly recruited from the south of France, many
of them Gascons, had all the high-hearted gaiety and reckless levity of
their own peculiar land. A campaign to these fellows seemed a pleasant
excursion; they made a jest of everything, from the wan faces of the
invalids to the black bread of the commissary; they quizzed the new
'Tourlerous,' as the recruits were styled, and the old 'Grumblers,' as
it was the fashion to call the veterans of the army; they passed their
jokes on the Republic, and even their own officers came in for a share
of their ridicule. The Grenadiers, however, were those who especially
were made the subject of their sarcasm. They were generally from the
north of France, and the frontier country toward Flanders, whence they
probably imbibed a portion of that phlegm and moroseness so very unlike
the general gaiety of French nature; and when assailed by such
adversaries, were perfectly incapable of reply or retaliation.
They all belonged to the army of the 'Sambre et Meuse,' which,
although at the beginning of the campaign highly distinguished for its
successes, had been latterly eclipsed by the extraordinary victories on
the Upper Rhine and in Western Germany; and it was curious to hear with
what intelligence and interest the greater questions of strategy were
discussed by those who carried their packs as common soldiers in the
ranks. Movements and manoeuvres were criticised, attacked, defended,
ridiculed, and condemned, with a degree of acuteness and knowledge that
showed the enormous progress the nation had made in military science,
and with what ease the Republic could recruit her officers from the
ranks of her soldiers.
At noon the column halted in the wood of Belleville; and while the
men were resting, an express arrived announcing that a fresh body of
troops would soon arrive, and ordering the others to delay their march
till they came up. The orderly who brought the tidings could only say
that he believed some hurried news had come from Germany, for before he
left Paris the rappel was beating in different quarters, and the rumour
ran that reinforcements were to set out for Strasbourg with the utmost
despatch.
'And what troops are coming to join us?' said an old artillery
sergeant, in evident disbelief of the tidings.
'Two batteries of artillery and the voltigeurs of the 4th, I know
for certain are coming,' said the orderly, 'and they spoke of a
battalion of grenadiers.'
'What! do these Germans need another lesson?' said the cannonier. 'I
thought Fleurus had taught them what our troops were made of.'
'How you talk of Fleurus!' interrupted a young hussar of the south.
'I have just come from the army of Italy, and, ma foi! we should
never have mentioned such a battle as Fleurus in a despatch.
Campaigning amongst dikes and hedgesfighting with a river on one
flank and a fortress on t'otherparade manoeuvreswhere, at the first
check, the enemy retreats, and leaves you free, for the whole
afternoon, to write off your successes to the Directory. Had you seen
our fellows scaling the Alps, with avalanches of snow descending at
every fire of the great gunsforcing pass after pass against an enemy,
posted on every cliff and crag above uscutting our way to victory by
roads the hardiest hunter had seldom trodI call that war.'
'And I call it the skirmish of an outpost!' said the gruff veteran,
as he smoked away in thorough contempt for the enthusiasm of the other.
'I have served under Kléber, Hoche, and Moreau, and I believe they are
the first generals of France.'
'There is a name greater than them all,' cried the hussar, with
eagerness.
'Let us hear it, thenyou mean Pichegru, perhaps, or Masséna?'
'No, I mean Bonaparte!' said the hussar triumphantly.
'A good officer, and one of us,' said the artilleryman, touching his
belt to intimate the arm of the service the general belonged to. 'He
commanded the siege-train at Toulon.'
'He belongs to all,' said the other. 'He is a dragoon, a voltigeur,
an artillerist, a pontonnierwhat you willhe knows everything, as I
know my horse's saddle, and cloak-bag.'
Both parties now grew warm; and as each was not only an eager
partisan, but well acquainted with the leading events of the two
campaigns they undertook to defend, the dispute attracted a large
circle of listeners, who, either seated on the green sward, or lying at
full length, formed a picturesque group under the shadow of the
spreading oak-trees. Meanwhile, the cooking went speedily forward, and
the camp-kettles smoked with a steam whose savoury odour was not a
little tantalising to one who, like myself, felt that he did not belong
to the company.
'What's thy mess, boy?' said an old grenadier to me, as I sat at a
little distance off, and affectingbut I fear very illa total
indifference to what went forward.
'He is asking to what corps thou belong'st?' said another, seeing
that the question puzzled me.
'I Unfortunately I have none,' said I. 'I merely followed the march
for curiosity.'
'And thy father and mother, childwhat will they say to thee on thy
return home?'
'I have neither father, mother, nor home,' said I promptly.
'Just like myself,' said an old red-whiskered sapeur; 'or if I ever
had parents they never had the grace to own me. Come over here, child,
and take share of my dinner.'
'No, parbleu! I 'll have him for my comrade,' cried the young
hussar. 'I was made a corporal yesterday, and have a larger ration. Sit
here, my boy, and tell us how art called.'
'Maurice Tiernay.'
'Maurice will do; few of us care for more than one name, except in
the dead muster they like to have it in full. Help thyself, my lad, and
here's the wine-flask beside thee.'
'How comes it thou hast this old uniform, boy?' said he, pointing to
my sleeve.
'It was one they gave me in the Temple,' said I. 'I was a rat du
prison for some time.'
'Thunder of war!' exclaimed the cannonier, 'I had rather stand a
whole platoon-fire than see what thou must have seen, child.'
'And hast heart to go back there, boy,' said the corporal, 'and live
the same life again?'
'No, I 'll never go back,' said I. 'I 'll be a soldier.'
'Well said, mon bravethou'lt be a hussar, I know.'
'If nature has given thee a good head, and a quick eye, my boy, thou
might even do better, and in time, perhaps, wear a coat like mine,'
said the cannonier.
'Sacrebleu! cried a little fellow, whose age might have been
anything from boyhood to manhoodfor while small of stature, he was
shrivelled and wrinkled like a mummy'why not be satisfied with the
coat he wears?'
'And be a drummer, like thee?' said the cannonier.
'Just so, like me, and like Massénahe was a drummer, too.'
'No, no!' cried a dozen voices together; 'that's not true.'
'He's right; Masséna was a drummer in the Eighth,' said the
cannonier; 'I remember him when he was like that boy yonder.'
'To be sure,' said the little fellow, who, I now perceived, wore the
dress of a tambour; and is it a disgrace to be the first to face
the enemy?'
'And the first to turn his back to him, comrade,' cried another.
'Not always-not always,' said the little fellow, regardless of the
laugh against him. 'Had it been so, I had not gained the battle of
Grandrengs on the Sambre.'
'Thou gain a battle!' shouted half a dozen, in derisive laughter.
'What, Petit Pierre gained the day at Grandrengs!' said the
cannonier; 'why, I was there myself, and never heard of that till now.'
'I can believe it well,' replied Pierre; 'many a man's merits go
unacknowledgedand Kléber got all the credit that belonged to Pierre
Canot.'
'Let us hear about it, Pierre, for even thy victory is unknown by
name to us poor devils of the army of Italy. How call'st thou the
place?'
'Grandrengs,' said Pierre proudly. 'It's name will live as long,
perhaps, as many of those high-sounding ones you have favoured us with.
Mayhap, thou hast heard of Cambray?'
'Never!' said the hussar, shaking his head.
'Nor of Mons, either, I'll be sworn?' continued Pierre.
'Quite true, I never heard of it before.'
'Voilà! exclaimed Pierre, in contemptuous triumph. 'And these
are the fellows that pretend to feel their country's glory, and take
pride in her conquests. Where hast thou been, lad, not to hear of
places that every child syllables nowadays?'
'I will tell you where I've been,' said the hussar haughtily, and
dropping at the same time the familiar 'thee' and 'thou' of soldier
intercourse'I've been at Montenotte, at Millesimo, at Mondove-
'Allons, donc! with your disputes,' broke in an old
grenadier; 'as if France was not victorious whether the enemies were
English or German. Let us hear how Pierre won his battle atat'
'At Grandrengs,' said Pierre. 'They call it in the despatch the
action of the Sambre, because Kléber came up thereand Kléber being
a great man, and Pierre Canot a little one, you understand, the glory
attaches to the place where the bullion epaulettes are foundjust as
the old King of Prussia used to say, Le bon Dieu est toujours a côté
des gros bataillons.'
'I see we'll never come to this same victory of Grandrengs, with all
these turnings and twistings,' muttered the artillery sergeant.
'Thou art very near it now, comrade, if thou'lt listen,' said
Pierre, as he wiped his mouth after a long draught of the wine-flask.
'I'll not weary the honourable company with any description of the
battle generally, but just confine myself to that part of it in which I
was myself in action. It is well known, that though we claimed the
victory of the 10th May, we did little more than keep our own, and were
obliged to cross the Sambre, and be satisfied with such a position as
enabled us to hold the two bridges over the riverand there we
remained for four days; some said preparing for a fresh attack upon
Kaunitz, who commanded the allies; some, and I believe they were right,
alleging that our generals were squabbling all day, and all night, too,
with two commissaries that the Government had sent down to teach us how
to win battles. Ma foi! we had had some experience in that way
ourselves, without learning the art from two citizens with tricoloured
scarfs round their waists, and yellow tops to their boots! However that
might be, early on the morning of the 20th we received orders to cross
the river in two strong columns, and form on the opposite side; at the
same time that a division was to pass the stream by boat two miles
higher up, and, concealing themselves in a pine wood, be ready to take
the enemy in flank, when they believed that all the force was in the
front.'
'Sacré tonnerre! I believe that our armies of the Sambre and
the Rhine never have any other notion of battles than that eternal
flank movement!' cried a young sergeant of the voltigeurs, who had just
come up from the army of Italy. 'Our general used to split the enemy by
the centre, cut him piecemeal by attack in columns, and then mow him
down with artillery at short rangenot leaving him time for a retreat
in heavy masses'
'Silence, silence, and let us hear Petit Pierre!' shouted a dozen
voices, who cared far more for an incident than a scientific discussion
about manoeuvres.
'The plan I speak of was General Moreau's,' continued Pierre; 'and I
fancy that your Bonaparte has something to learn ere he be his equal!'
This rebuke seeming to have engaged the suffrages of the company, he
went on: 'The boat division consisted of four battalions of infantry,
two batteries of light artillery, and a voltigeur company of the
Régiment de Marboeufto which I was then, for the time, attached as
tambour en chef. What fellows they werethe greatest devils in the
whole army! They came from the Faubourg St. Antoine, and were as
reckless and undisciplined as when they strutted the streets of Paris.
When they were thrown out to skirmish, they used to play as many tricks
as schoolboys: sometimes they 'd run up to the roof of a cabin or a
hutand they could climb like catsand, sitting down on the chimney,
begin firing away at the enemy as coolly as if from a battery;
sometimes they'd capture half-a-dozen asses, and ride forward as if to
charge, and then, affecting to tumble off, the fellows would pick down
any of the enemy's officers that were fools enough to come
nearscampering back to the cover of the line, laughing and joking as
if the whole were sport. I saw one when his wrist was shattered by a
shot, and he couldn't fire, take a comrade on his back and caper away
like a horse, just to tempt the Germans to come out of their lines. It
was with these blessed youths I was now to serve, for the tambour
of the Marboeuf was drowned in crossing the Sambre a few days before.
Well, we passed the river safely, and, unperceived by the enemy, gained
the pine wood, where we formed in two columns, one of attack, and the
other of supportthe voltigeurs about five hundred paces in advance of
the leading files. The morning was dull and hazy, for a heavy rain had
fallen during the night; and the country is flat, and so much
intersected with drains, and dikes, and ditches, that, after rain, the
vapour is too thick to see twenty yards on any side. Our business was
to make a counter-march to the right, and, guided by the noise of the
cannonade, to come down upon the enemy's flank in the thickest of the
engagement. As we advanced, we found ourselves in a kind of marshy
plain, planted with willows, and so thick that it was often difficult
for three men to march abreast. This extended for a considerable
distance; and on escaping from it we saw that we were not above a mile
from the enemy's left, which rested on a little village.'
'I know it well,' broke in the cannonier; 'it's called Huyningen.'
'Just so. There was a formidable battery in position there; and part
of the place was stockaded, as if they expected an attack. Still, there
are no vedettes, nor any lookout party, so far as we could see; and our
commanding officer didn't well know what to make of it, whether it was
a point of concealed strength, or a position they were about to
withdraw from. At all events, it required caution; and, although the
battle had already begun on the rightas a loud cannonade and a heavy
smoke told ushe halted the brigade in the wood, and held a council of
his officers to see what was to be done. The resolution come to was,
that the voltigeurs should advance alone to explore the way, the rest
of the force remaining in ambush. We were to go out in sections of
companies, and, spreading over a wide surface, see what we could of the
place.
'Scarcely was the order given, when away we wentand it was now a
race who should be earliest up and exchange first shot with the enemy.
Some dashed forward over the open field in front; others skulked along
by dikes and ditches; some, again, dodged here and there, as cover
offered its shelter; but about a dozen, of whom I was one, kept the
track of a little cart-road, which, half concealed by high banks and
furze, ran in a zigzag line towards the village. I was always smart of
foot; and now, having newly joined the voltigeurs, was naturally eager
to show myself not unworthy of my new associates. I went on at my best
pace, and being lightly equippedneither musket nor ball cartridge to
carryI soon outstripped them all; and, after about twenty minutes'
brisk running, saw in front of me a long, low farmhouse, the walls all
pierced for musketry, and two small eight-pounders in battery at the
gate. I looked back for my companions, but they were not upnot a man
of them to be seen. No matter, thought I, they'll be here soon;
meanwhile, I'll make for that little copse of brushwood; for a small
clump of low furze and broom was standing at a little distance in front
of the farm. All this time, I ought to say, not a man of the enemy was
to be seen, although I, from where I stood, could see the crenelated
walls, and the guns, as they were pointed. At a distance all would seem
like an ordinary peasant house.
'As I crossed the open space to gain the copse, piff! came a bullet,
whizzing past me; and just as I reached the cover, piff! came another.
I ducked my head and made for the thicket; but just as I did so, my
foot caught in a branch. I stumbled and pitched forward; and trying to
save myself, I grasped a bough above me; it smashed suddenly, and down
I went. Ay! down sure enoughfor I went right through the furze, and
into a wellone of those old, walled wells they have in these
countries, with a huge bucket that fills up the whole space, and is
worked by a chain. Luckily, the bucket was linked up near the top, and
caught me, or I should have gone where there would have been no more
heard of Pierre Canot; as it was, I was sorely bruised by the fall, and
didn't recover myself for full ten minutes after. Then I discovered
that I was sitting in a large wooden trough, hooped with iron, and
supported by two heavy chains that passed over a windlass, about ten
feet above my head.
'I was safe enough for the matter of that; at least, none were
likely to discover me, as I could easily see by the rust of the chain
and the grass-grown edges, that the well had been long disused. Now the
position was far from being pleasant. There stood the farmhouse full of
soldiers, the muskets ranging over every approach to where I lay. Of my
comrades there was nothing to be seenthey had either missed the way
or retreated; and so time crept on, and I pondered on what might be
going forward elsewhere, and whether it would ever be my own fortune to
see my comrades again.
'It might be an hourit seemed three or four to meafter this, as
I looked over the plain, I saw the caps of our infantry just issuing
over the brushwood, and a glancing lustre of their bayonets, as the sun
tipped them. They were advancing, but, as it seemed, slowlyhalting at
times, and then moving forward againjust like a force waiting for
others to come up. At last they debouched into the plain; but, to my
surprise, they wheeled about to the right, leaving the farmhouse on
their flank, as if to march beyond it. This was to lose their way
totally; nothing would be easier than to carry the position of the
farm, for the Germans were evidently few, had no vedettes, and thought
themselves in perfect security. I crept out from my ambush, and,
holding my cap on a stick, tried to attract notice from our fellows,
but none saw me. I ventured at last to shout aloud, but with no better
success; so that, driven to the end of my resources, I set to and beat
a roulade on the drum, thundering away with all my might, and
not caring what might come of it, for I was half mad with vexation as
well as despair. They heard me now; I saw a staff-officer gallop up to
the head of the leading division and halt them; a volley came peppering
from behind me, but without doing me any injury, for I was safe once
more in my bucket. Then came another pause, and again I repeated my
manouvre, and to my delight perceived that our fellows were advancing
at quick march. I beat harder, and the drums of the grenadiers answered
me. All right now, thought I, as, springing forward, I called
outThis way, boys, the wall of the orchard has scarcely a man to
defend it! and I rattled out the pas de charge with all my
force. One crashing fire of guns and small-arms answered me from the
farmhouse, and then away went the Germans as hard as they could!such
running never was seen! One of the guns they carried off with them; the
tackle of the other broke, and the drivers, jumping off their saddles,
took to their legs at once. Our lads were over the walls, through the
windows, between the stockades, everywhere, in fact, in a minute, and,
once inside, they carried all before them. The village was taken at the
point of the bayonet, and in less than an hour the whole force of the
brigade was advancing in full march on the enemy's flank. There was
little resistance made after that, and Kaunitz only saved his artillery
by leaving his rear-guard to be cut to pieces.'
The cannonier nodded, as if in full assent, and Pierre looked around
him with the air of a man who has vindicated his claim to greatness.
'Of course,' said he, 'the despatch said little about Pierre Canot,
but a great deal about Moreau, and Kléber, and the rest of them.'
While some were well satisfied that Pierre had well established his
merits as the conqueror of 'Grandrengs,' others quizzed him about the
heroism of lying hid in a well, and owing all his glory to a skin of
parchment.
'An' thou wert with the army of Italy, Pierre,' said the hussar,
'thou 'd have seen men march boldly to victory, and not skulk
underground like a mole.'
'I am tired of your song about this army of Italy,' broke in the
cannonier; 'we who have served in La Vendée and the North know what
fighting means as well, mayhap, as men whose boldest feats are scaling
rocks and clambering up precipices. Your Bonaparte is more like one of
those Guerilla chiefs they have in the Basque, than the general of a
French army.'
'The man who insults the army of Italy, or its chief, insults me!'
said the corporal, springing up, and casting a sort of haughty defiance
around him.
'And then?'asked the other.
'And thenif he be a French soldier, he knows what should follow.'
'Parbleu!' said the cannonier coolly, 'there would be little
glory in cutting you down, and even less in being wounded by you; but
if you will have it so, it's not an old soldier of the artillery will
balk your humour.'
As he spoke, he slowly arose from the ground, and tightening his
waist-belt, seemed prepared to follow the other. The rest sprang to
their feet at the same time, but not, as I anticipated, to offer a
friendly mediation between the angry parties, but in full approval of
their readiness to decide by the sword a matter too trivial to be
called a quarrel.
In the midst of the whispering conferences as to place and
weaponsfor the short straight sword of the artillery was very unlike
the curved sabre of the hussarthe quick tramp of horses was heard,
and suddenly the head of a squadron was seen, as, with glancing helmets
and glittering equipments, they turned off the highroad and entered the
wood.
'Here they come!here come the troops!' was now heard on every
side; and all question of the duel was forgotten in the greater
interest inspired by the arrival of the others. The sight was
strikingly picturesque; for, as they rode up, the order to dismount was
given, and in an instant the whole squadron was at work picketing and
unsaddling their horses; forage was shaken out before the weary and
hungry beasts, kits were unpacked, cooking utensils produced, and every
one busy in preparing for the bivouac. An infantry column followed
close upon the others, which was again succeeded by two batteries of
field-artillery and some squadrons of heavy dragoons; and now the whole
wood, far and near, was crammed with soldiers, waggons, caissons, and
camp equipage. To me the interest of the scene was never-endinglife,
bustle, and gaiety on every side. The reckless pleasantry of the camp,
too, seemed elevated by the warlike accompaniments of the picturethe
caparisoned horses, the brass guns, blackened on many a battlefield,
the weather-seamed faces of the hardy soldiers themselves, all
conspiring to excite a high enthusiasm for the career.
Most of the equipments were new and strange to my eyes. I had never
before seen the grenadiers of the Republican Guard, with their enormous
shakos, and their long-flapped vests, descending to the middle of the
thigh; neither had I seen the 'Hussars de la mort,' in their richly
braided uniform of black, and their long hair curled in ringlets at
either side of the face. The cuirassiers, too, with their low
cocked-hats, and straight black feathers, as well as the
'Porte-drapeaux,' whose brilliant uniforms, all slashed with gold,
seemed scarcely in keeping with yellow-topped boots; all were now seen
by me for the first time. But of all the figures which amused me most
by its singularity, was that of a woman, who, in a short frock-coat and
a low-crowned hat, carried a little barrel at her side, and led an ass
loaded with two similar but rather larger casks. Her air and gait were
perfectly soldierlike; and as she passed the different posts and
sentries, she saluted them in true military fashion. I was not long to
remain in ignorance of her vocation nor her name; for scarcely did she
pass a group without stopping to dispense a wonderful cordial that she
carried; and then I heard the familiar title of 'La Mère Madou,'
uttered in every form of panegyric.
She was a short, stoutly built figure, somewhat past the middle of
life, but without any impairment of activity in her movements. A
pleasing countenance, with good teeth, and black eyes, a merry voice,
and a ready tongue, were qualities more than sufficient to make her a
favourite with the soldiers, whom I found she had followed to more than
one battlefield.
'Peste! cried an old grenadier, as he spat out the liquor on
the ground. 'This is one of those sweet things they make in Holland; it
smacks of treacle and bad lemons.'
'Ah, Grognard!' said she, laughing, 'thou art more used to
corn-brandy, with a clove of garlick in't, than to good curaçoa.'
'What, curaçoa! Mère Madou, has got curaçoa there?' cried a
grey-whiskered captain, as he turned on his saddle at the word.
'Yes, mon capitaine, and such as no burgomaster ever drank
better'; and she filled out a little glass and presented it gracefully
to him.
'Encore! ma bonne mère,' said he, as he wiped his thick
moustache; 'that liquor is another reason for extending the blessings
of liberty to the brave Dutch.'
'Didn't I tell you so?' said she, refilling the glass; 'but, holloa,
there goes Grégoire at full speed. Ah, scoundrels that ye are, I see
what ye 've done.' And so was it; some of the wild young voltigeur
fellows had fastened a lighted furze-bush to the beast's tail, and had
set him at a gallop through the very middle of the encampment,
upsetting tents, scattering cooking-pans, and tumbling the groups, as
they sat, in every direction.
The confusion was tremendous, for the picketed horses jumped about,
and some, breaking loose, galloped here and there, while others set off
with half-unpacked waggons, scattering their loading as they went.
It was only when the blazing furze had dropped off, that the whole
cause of the mischance would suffer himself to be captured and led
quietly back to his mistress. Half crying with joy, and still wild with
anger, she kissed the beast and abused her tormentors by turns.
'Cannoniers that ye are,' she cried, 'ma foi! you'll have
little taste for fire when the day comes that ye should face it!
Pauvre Grégoire, they've left thee a tail like a tirailleur's
feather! Plagues light on the thieves that did it! Come here, boy,'
said she, addressing me, 'hold, the bridle; what's thy corps, lad?'
'I have none now; I only followed the soldiers from Paris.'
'Away with thee, street runner; away with thee, then,' said she
contemptuously; 'there are no pockets to pick here; and if there were,
thou 'd lose thy ears for the doing it. Be off, thenback with thee to
Paris and all its villainies. There are twenty thousand of thy trade
there, but there's work for ye all.'
'Nay, mère, don't be harsh with the boy,' said a soldier; 'you can
see by his coat that his heart is with us.'
'And he stole that, I'll be sworn,' said she, pulling me round, by
the arm, full in front of her. 'Answer me, gamin, where didst
find that old tawdry jacket?'
'I got it in a place where, if they had hold of thee and thy bad
tongue, it would fare worse with thee than thou thinkest,' said I,
maddened by the imputed theft and insolence together.
'And where may that be, young slip of the galleys?' cried she
angrily.
'In the Prison du Temple.'
'Is that their livery, then?' said she, laughing and pointing at me
with ridicule, 'or is it a family dress made after thy father's?'
'My father wore a soldier's coat, and bravely, too,' said I, with
difficulty restraining the tears that rose to my eyes.
'In what regiment, boy?' asked the soldier who spoke before.
'In one that exists no longer,' said I sadly, and not wishing to
allude to a service that would find but slight favour in republican
ears.
'That must be the 24th of the Line; they were cut to pieces at
Tongres.'
'Nono, he 's thinking of the 9th, that got so roughly handled at
Fontenoy,' said another.
'Of neither,' said I; 'I am speaking of those who have left nothing
but a name behind themthe Garde du Corps of the king.'
'Voilà! cried Madou, clapping her hands in astonishment at my
impertinence; 'there's an aristocrat for you! Look at him, mes
braves! it's not every day we have the grand seigneurs
condescending to come amongst us! You can learn something of courtly
manners from the polished descendant of our nobility. Say, boy, art a
count, or a baron, or perhaps a duke?'
'Make way thereout of the road, Mère Madou,' cried a dragoon,
curveting his horse in such a fashion as almost to upset ass and
cantinière together, 'the staff is coming.'
The mere mention of the word sent numbers off in full speed to their
quarters; and now all was haste and bustle to prepare for the coming
inspection. The mère's endeavours to drag her beast along were not very
successful, for, with the peculiar instinct of his species, the more
necessity there was of speed, the lazier he became; and as every one
had his own concerns to look after, she was left to her own unaided
efforts to drive him forward.
'Thou'lt have a day in prison if thou'rt found here, Mère Madou,'
said a dragoon, as he struck the ass with the flat of his sabre.
'I know it well,' cried she passionately; 'but I have none to help
me. Come here, lad; be good-natured, and forget what passed. Take his
bridle while I whip him on.'
I was at first disposed to refuse, but her pitiful face and sad
plight made me think better of it, and I seized the bridle at once; but
just as I had done so, the escort galloped forward, and the dragoons
coming on the flank of the miserable beast, over he went, barrels and
all, crushing me beneath him as he fell.
[Illustration: 111]
'Is the boy hurt?' were the last words I heard, as I fainted; but a
few minutes after I found myself seated on the grass, while a soldier
was stanching the blood that ran freely from a cut in my forehead.
'It is a trifle, generala mere scratch,' said a young officer to
an old man on horseback beside him, 'and the leg is not broken.'
'Glad of it,' said the old officer; 'casualties are insufferable,
except before an enemy. Send the lad to his regiment.'
'He's only a camp-follower, general. He does not belong to us.'
'There, my lad, take this, then, and make thy way back to Paris,'
said the old general, as he threw me a small piece of money.
I looked up, and, straight before me, saw the same officer who had
given me the assignat the night before.
'General Lacoste!' cried I, in delight, for I thought him already a
friend.
'How is thishave I an acquaintance here?' said he, smiling; 'on my
life! it's the young rogue I met this morning. Eh! art not thou the
artillery-driver I spoke to at the barrack?'
'Yes, general, the same.'
'Diantre! It seems fated, then, that we are not to part
company so easily; for hadst thou remained in Paris, lad, we had most
probably never met again.'
'Ainsi, je suis bien tombé, general? said I, punning upon my
accident.
He laughed heartily, less, I suppose, at the jest, which was a poor
one, than at the cool impudence with which I uttered it, and then
turning to one of the staff, said
'I spoke to Bertholet about this boy already; see that they take him
in the 9th. I say, my lad, what's thy name?'
'Tiernay, sir.'
'Ay, to be sure, Tiernay. Well, Tiernay, thou shalt be a hussar, my
man. See that I get no disgrace by the appointment.'
I kissed his hand fervently, and the staff rode forward, leaving me
the happiest heart that beat in all the crowded host.
CHAPTER VII. A PASSING ACQUAINTANCE
If the guide who is to lead us on a long and devious track stops at
every byway, following out each path that seems to invite a ramble or
suggest a halt, we naturally might feel distrustful of his safe
conduct, and uneasy at the prospect of the road before us. In the same
way may the reader be disposed to fear that he who descends to slight
and trivial circumstances will scarcely have time for events which
ought to occupy a wider space in his reminiscences; and for this reason
I am bound to apologise for the seeming transgression of my last
chapter. Most true it is, that were I to relate the entire of my life
with a similar diffuseness, my memoir would extend to a length far
beyond what I intend it to occupy. Such, however, is very remote from
my thoughts. I have dwelt with, perhaps, something of prolixity upon
the soldier-life and characteristics of a past day, because I shall yet
have to speak of changes, without which the contrast would be
inappreciable; but I have also laid stress upon an incident trivial in
itself, because it formed an event in my own fortunes. It was thus, in
fact, that I became a soldier.
Now, the man who carries a musket in the ranks may very reasonably
be deemed but a small ingredient of the mass that forms an army; and in
our day his thoughts, hopes, fears, and ambitions are probably as
unknown and uncared for as the precise spot of earth that yielded the
ore from which his own weapon was smelted. This is not only reasonable,
but it is right in the time of which I am now speaking it was far
otherwise. The Republic, in extinguishing a class, had elevated the
individual; and now each, in whatever station he occupied, felt himself
qualified to entertain opinions and express sentiments which, because
they were his own, he presumed them to be national The idlers of the
streets discussed the deepest questions of politics; the soldiers
talked of war with all the presumption of consummate generalship. The
great operations of a campaign, and the various qualities of different
commanders, were the daily subjects of dispute in the camp. Upon one
topic only were all agreed; and there, indeed, our unanimity repaid all
previous discordance. We deemed France the only civilised nation of the
globe, and reckoned that people thrice happy who, by any contingency of
fortune, engaged our sympathy, or procured the distinction of our
presence in arms. We were the heaven-born disseminators of freedom
throughout Europe, the sworn enemies of kingly domination, and the
missionaries of a political creed, which was not alone to ennoble
mankind, but to render its condition eminently happy and prosperous.
There could not be an easier lesson to learn than this, and
particularly when dinned into your ears all day, and from every rank
and grade around you. It was the programme of every message from the
Directory; it was the opening of every general order from the general;
it was the table-talk of your mess. The burthen of every song, the
title of every military march performed by the regimental band,
recalled it; even the riding-master, as he followed the recruit around
the weary circle, whip in hand, mingled the orders he uttered with
apposite axioms upon republican grandeur. How I think I hear it still!
as the grim old quartermaster-sergeant, with his Alsatian accent and
deep-toned voice, would call out
'Elbows back!wrist lower and free from the sidefree, I say, as
every citizen of a great Republic!head erect, as a Frenchman has a
right to carry it!chest full out, like one who can breathe the air of
heaven, and ask no leave from king or despot!down with your heel,
sir; think that you crush a tyrant beneath it!'
Such and such like were the running commentaries on equitation, till
often I forgot whether the lesson had more concern with a seat on
horseback or the great cause of monarchy throughout Europe. I suppose,
to use a popular phrase of our own day, 'the system worked well';
certainly the spirit of the army was unquestionable. From the grim old
veteran, with snow-white moustache, to the beardless, boy, there was
but one hope and wishthe glory of France. How they understood that
glory, or in what it essentially consisted, is another and very
different question.
Enrolled as a soldier in the ninth regiment of Hussars, I
accompanied that corps to Nancy, where, at that time, a large cavalry
school was formed, and where the recruits from the different regiments
were trained and managed before being sent forward to their
destination.
A taste for equitation, and a certain aptitude for catching up the
peculiar character of the different horses, at once distinguished me in
the riding-school, and I was at last adopted by the riding-master of
the regiment as a kind of aide to him in his walk. When I thus became a
bold and skilful horseman, my proficiency interfered with my promotion,
for instead of accompanying my regiment I was detained at Nancy, and
attached to the permanent staff of the cavalry school there.
At first I asked for nothing better. It was a life of continued
pleasure and excitement, and while I daily acquired knowledge of a
subject which interested me deeply, I grew tall and strong of limb, and
with that readiness in danger, and that cool collectedness in moments
of difficulty, that are so admirably taught by the accidents and
mischances of a cavalry riding-school.
The most vicious and unmanageable beasts from the Limousin were
often sent to us, and when any one of these was deemed peculiarly
untractable, 'Give him to Tiernay' was the last appeal, before
abandoning him as hopeless. I'm certain I owe much of the formation of
my character to my life at this period, and that my love of adventure,
my taste for excitement, my obstinate resolution to conquer a
difficulty, my inflexible perseverance when thwarted, and my eager
anxiety for praise, were all picked up amid the sawdust and tan of the
riding-school. How long I might have continued satisfied with such
triumphs, and content to be the wonder of the freshly joined
conscripts, I know not, when accident, or something very like it,
decided the question.
It was a calm, delicious evening in April, in the year after I had
entered the school, that I was strolling alone on the old fortified
wall, which, once a strong redoubt, was the favourite walk of the good
citizens of Nancy. I was somewhat tired with the fatigues of the day,
and sat down to rest under one of the acacia-trees, whose delicious
blossom was already scenting the air. The night was still and
noiseless; not a man moved along the wall; the hum of the city was
gradually subsiding, and the lights in the cottages over the plain told
that the labourer was turning homeward from his toil. It was an hour to
invite calm thoughts, and so I fell a-dreaming over the tranquil
pleasures of a peasant's life, and the unruffled peace of an existence
passed amid scenes that were endeared by years of intimacy. 'How
happily,' thought I, 'time must steal on in these quiet spots, where
the strife and struggle of war are unknown, and even the sounds of
conflict never reach!' Suddenly my musings were broken in upon by
hearing the measured tramp of cavalry, as at a walk; a long column
wound their way along the zigzag approaches, which by many a redoubt
and fosse, over many a drawbridge, and beneath many a strong arch, led
to the gates of Nancy. The loud, sharp call of a trumpet was soon
heard, and, after a brief parley, the massive gates of the fortress
were opened for the troops to enter. From the position I occupied
exactly over the gate, I could not only see the long, dark line of
armed men as they passed, but also hear the colloquy which took place
as they entered
'What regiment?*
'Detachments of the 12th Dragoons and the 22nd Chasseurs à cheval.'
'Where from?'
'Valence.'
'Whereto?'
'The army of the Rhine.'
'Pass on!'
And with the words the ringing sound of the iron-shod horses was
heard beneath the vaulted entrance. As they issued from beneath the
long deep arch, the men were formed in line along two sides of a wide
'Place' inside the walls, where, with that despatch that habit teaches,
the billets were speedily distributed, and the parties 'told off' in
squads for different parts of the city. The force seemed a considerable
one, and with all the celerity they could employ, the billeting
occupied a long time. As I watched the groups moving off, I heard the
direction given to one party, 'Cavalry SchoolRue de Lorraine.' The
young officer who commanded the group took a direction exactly the
reverse of the right one; and hastening down from the rampart, I at
once overtook them, and explained the mistake. I offered them my
guidance to the place, which being willingly accepted, I walked along
at their side.
Chatting as we went, I heard that the dragoons were hastily
withdrawn from La Vendee to form part of the force under General Hoche.
The young sous-lieutenant, a mere boy of my own age, had already served
in two campaigns in Holland and the south of France; had been wounded
in the Loire, and received his grade of officer at the hands of Hoche
himself on the field of battle.
He could speak of no other nameHoche was the hero of all his
thoughts; his gallantry, his daring, his military knowledge, his
coolness in danger, his impetuosity in attack, his personal amiability,
the mild gentleness of his manner, were themes the young soldier loved
to dwell on; and however pressed by me to talk of war and its chances,
he inevitably came back to the one loved themehis general.
When the men were safely housed for the night, I invited my new
friend to my own quarters, where, having provided the best
entertainment I could afford, we passed more than half the night in
chatting. There was nothing above mediocrity in the look or manner of
the youth; his descriptions of what he had seen were unmarked by
anything glowing or picturesque; his observations did not evince either
a quick or a reflective mind, and yet, over this mass of commonplace,
enthusiasm for his leader had shed a rich glow, like a gorgeous
sunlight on a landscape, that made all beneath it seem brilliant and
splendid.
'And now,' said he, after an account of the last action he had seen,
'and now, enough of myself; let's talk of thee. Where hast thou been?'
'Here!' said I, with a sigh, and in a voice that shame had almost
made inaudible. 'Here, here, at Nancy.'
'Not always here?'
'Just so. Always here.'
'And what doing, mon cher? Thou art not one of the Municipal
Guard, surely?'
'No,' said I, smiling sadly, 'I belong to the École d'Équitation.'
'Ah, that's it,' said he, in somewhat of confusion; 'I always
thought they selected old Serjeants en retraite, worn-out
veterans, and wounded fellows, for riding-school duty.'
'Most of ours are such,' said I, my shame increasing at every
word'but somehow they chose me also, and I had no will in the
matter'
'No will in the matter, parbleu! and why not? Every man in
France has a right to meet the enemy in the field. Thou art a soldier,
a hussar of the 9th, a brave and gallant corps, and art to be told that
thy comrades have the road to fame and honour open to them, whilst thou
art to mope away life like an invalided drummer? It is too gross an
indignity, my boy, and must not be borne. Away with you to-morrow at
daybreak to the état-major; ask to see the Commandant. You're in luck,
too, for our colonel is with him now, and he is sure to back your
request. Say that you served in the school to oblige your superiors,
but that you cannot see all chances of distinction lost to you for ever
by remaining there. They've given you no grade yet, I see,' continued
he, looking at my arm.
'None; I am still a private.'
'And I a sous-lieutenant, just because I have been where powder was
flashing! You can ride well, of course?'
'I defy the wildest Limousin to shake me in my saddle.'
'And, as a swordsman, what are you?'
'Gros Jean calls me his best pupil.'
'Ah, true! you have Gros Jean here, the best sabreur in
France! And here you area horseman, and one of Gros Jean's élèves
rotting away life in Nancy! Have you any friends in the service?'
'Not one.'
'Not one! Nor relations, nor connections?'
'None. I am Irish by descent. My family are only French by one
generation.'
'Irish! Ah! that's lucky too,' said he. 'Our colonel is an Irishman.
His name is Mahon. You're certain of getting your leave now. I'll
present you to him to-morrow. We are to halt two days here, and before
that is over, I hope you'll have made your last caracole in the
riding-school of Nancy.'
'But remember,' cried I, 'that although Irish by family, I have
never been there. I know nothing of either the people or the
languageand do not present me to the general as his countryman.'
'I'll call you by your name, as a soldier of the 9th Hussars, and
leave you to make out your claim as countrymen, if you please,
together.'
This course was now agreed upon, and after some further talking, my
friend, refusing all my offers of a bed, coolly wrapped his cloak about
him, and, with his head on the table, fell fast asleep, long before I
had ceased thinking over his stories and his adventures in camp and
battlefield.
CHAPTER VIII. 'TRONCHON'
My duties in the riding-school were always over before mid-day, and
as noon was the hour appointed by the young lieutenant to present me to
his colonel, I was ready by that time, and anxiously awaiting his
arrival. I had done my best to smarten up my uniform, and make all my
accoutrements bright and glistening. My scabbard was polished like
silver, the steel front of my shako shone like a mirror, and the tinsel
lace of my jacket had undergone a process of scrubbing and cleaning
that threatened its very existence. My smooth chin and beardless
upper-lip, however, gave me a degree of distress that all other
deficiencies failed to inflict. I can dare to say, that no mediaeval
gentleman's bald spot ever cost him one-half the misery as did my lack
of moustache occasion me. 'A hussar without beard, as well without
spurs or sabretache'; a tambour major without his staff, a cavalry
charger without a tail, couldn't be more ridiculous; and there was that
old serjeant of the riding-school, 'Tron-chon,' with a beard that might
have made a mattress! How the goods of this world are unequally
distributed! thought I; still why might he not spare me a littlea
very little would sufficejust enough to give the 'air hussar' to my
countenance. He's an excellent creature, the kindest old fellow in the
world. I 'm certain he 'd not refuse me. To be sure, the beard is a red
one, and pretty much like bell-wire in consistence; no matter, better
that than this girlish smooth chin I now wear.
Tronchon was spelling out the Moniteurs account of the
Italian campaign as I entered his room, and found it excessively
difficult to get back from the Alps and Apennines to the humble request
I preferred.
'Poor fellows!' muttered he'four battles in seven days, without
stores of any kind or rationsalmost without bread; and here comest
thou, whining because thou hasn't a beard.'
'If I were not a hussar'
'Bah!' said he, interrupting, 'what of that? Where shouldst thou
have had thy baptism of blood, boy? Art a childnothing more.'
'I shared my quarters last night with one, not older, Tronchon, and
he was an officer, and had seen many a battlefield.'
'I know that, too,' said the veteran, with an expression of
impatience'and that General Bonaparte will give every boy his
epaulettes before an old and tried soldier.'
'It was not Bonaparte. It was'
'I care not who promoted the lad; the system is just the same with
them all. It is no longer, Where have you served?what have you
seen? but, Can you read glibly?can you write faster than
speak?have you learned to take towns upon paper, and attack a
breastwork with a rule and a pair of compasses? This is what they
called le génie le génieha! ha! ha!' cried he,
laughing heartily; 'that's the name old women used to give the devil
when I was a boy.'
It was with the greatest difficulty I could get him back from these
disagreeable reminiscences to the object of my visit, and, even then, I
could hardly persuade him that I was serious in asking the loan of a
beard. The prayer of my petition being once understood, he discussed
the project gravely enough; but to my surprise he was far more struck
by the absurd figure he should cut with his diminished mane,
than I with my mock moustache.
'There's not a child in Nancy won't laugh at methey'll cry, There
goes old Tronchonhe's like Kléber's charger, which the German cut the
tail off, to make a shako plume!'
'I assured him that he might as well pretend to miss one tree in the
forest of Fontainebleauthat after furnishing a squadron like myself,
his would be still the first beard in the Republic; and at last he
yielded, and gave in.
Never did a little damsel of the nursery array her doll with more
delighted looks, and gaze upon her handiwork with more
self-satisfaction, than did old Tronchon survey me, as, with the aid of
a little gum, he decorated my lip with a stiff line of his iron-red
beard.
'Diantre!' cried he, in ecstasy, 'if thou ben't something
like a man after all. Who would have thought it would have made such a
change? Thou might pass for one that saw real smoke and real fire, any
day, lad. Ay! thou hast another look in thine eye, and another way to
carry thy head, now! Trust me, thou'lt look a different fellow on the
left of the squadron.'
I began to think so too, as I looked at myself in the small triangle
of a looking-glass which decorated Tronchon's wall, under a picture of
Kellermann, his first captain. I fancied that the improvement was most
decided. I thought that, bating a little over-ferocity, a something
verging upon the cruel, I was about as perfect a type of the hussar as
need be. My jacket seemed to fit tightermy pelisse hung more
jauntilymy shako sat more saucily on one side of my headmy sabre
banged more proudly against my bootmy very spurs jangled with a
pleasanter musicand all because a little hair bristled over my lip,
and curled in two spiral flourishes across my cheek! I longed to see
the effect of my changed appearance, as I walked down the 'Place
Carrière,' or sauntered into the café where my comrades used to
assemble. What will Mademoiselle Josephine say, thought I, as I ask for
my petit verre, caressing my moustache thus! Not a doubt of it,
what a fan is to a woman a beard is to a soldier!a something to fill
up the pauses in conversation, by blandly smoothing with the finger, or
fiercely curling at the point.
'And so thou art going to ask for thy grade, Maurice?' broke in
Tronchon, after a long silence.
'Not at all. I am about to petition for employment upon active
service. I don't seek promotion till I have deserved it.'
'Better still, lad. I was eight years myself in the ranks before
they gave me the stripe on my arm. Parbleu! the Germans had
given me some three or four with the sabre before that time.'
'Do you think they 'll refuse me, Tronchon?'
'Not if thou go the right way about it, lad. Thou mustn't fancy it's
like asking leave from the captain to spend the evening in a
guinguette, or to go to the play with thy sweetheart. No, no, boy.
It must be done en règle. Thou'lt have to wait on the general at
his quarters at four o'clock, when he receives, as they call it.
Thou'lt be there, mayhap, an hour, ay, two or three belike, and after
all, perhaps, won't see him that day at all! I was a week trying to
catch Kellermann, and, at last, he only spoke to me going downstairs
with his staff
'Eh, Tronchon, another bullet in thy old carcass; want a furlough
to get strong again, eh?
'No, colonel; all sound this time. I want to be a sergeantI'm
twelve years and four months corporal.
'Slow work, too, said he, laughing; ain't it, Charles? and he
pinched one of his young officers by the cheek. Let old Tronchon have
his grade; and I say, my good fellow, said he to me, don't come
plaguing me any more about promotion till I'm General of Division. You
hear that?
'Well, he's got his step since; but I never teased him after.'
'And why so, Tronchon?' said L
'I'll tell thee, lad,' whispered he, in a low, confidential tone, as
if imparting a secret well worth the hearing. 'They can find fellows
every day fit for lieutenants and chefs d'escadron. Parbleu!
they meet with them in every café, in every billiard you enter; but a
sergeant! Maurice, one that drills his men on paradecan dress them
like a wallsee that every kit is well packed, and every cartouch well
filledwho knows every soul in his company as he knows the buckles of
his own sword-beltthat's what one should not chance upon in haste.
It's easy enough to manoeuvre the men, Maurice; but to make them, boy,
to fashion the fellows so that they be like the pieces of a great
machine, that's the real labourthat's soldiering indeed.'
'And you say I must write a petition, Tronchon?' said I, more
anxious to bring him back to my own affairs than listen to these
speculations of his. 'How shall I do it?'
'Sit down there, lad, and I'll tell thee. I've done the thing some
scores of times, and know the words as well as I once knew my Pater.
Parbleu! I often wish I could remember that now, just to keep me
from gloomy thoughts when I sit alone of an evening.'
It was not a little to his astonishment, but still more to his
delight, that I told the poor fellow I could help to refresh his
memory, knowing, as I did, every word of the litanies by heart; and,
accordingly, it was agreed on that I should impart religious
instruction in exchange for the secular knowledge he was conferring
upon me.
'As for the petition,' said Tronchon, seating himself opposite to me
at the table, 'it is soon done; for mark me, lad, these things must
always be short; if thou be long-winded, they put thee away, and tell
some of the clerks to look after theeand there's an end of it. Be
brief, therefore, and nextbe legiblewrite in a good, large, round
hand; just as, if thou wert speaking, thou wouldst talk with a fine,
clear, distinct voice. Well, then, begin thus:Republic of France,
one and indivisible! Make a flourish round that, lad, as if it came
freely from the pen. When a man writesFrance! he should do it as he
whirls his sabre round his head in a charge! Ay, just so.'
'I 'm ready, Tronchon, go on.'
'Mon Général! Nay, nayGénéral mustn't be as large
as Franceyes, that's better. The undersigned, whose
certificates of service and conduct are herewith inclosed. Stay, stop
a moment, Tronchon; don't forget that I have got neither one nor
t'other. No matter; I'll make thee out both. Where was I?Ay,
herewith inclosed; and whose wounds, as the accompanying report will
show'
'Wounds! I never received one.'
'No matter, I'llehwhat? Feu d'enfer! how stupid I am!
What have I been thinking of? Why, boy, it was a sick-furlough I was
about to ask forthe only kind of petition I have ever had to write in
a life long.'
'And I am asking for active service.'
'Ha! That came without asking for in my case.'
'Then what's to be done, Tronchon?clearly this won't do!'
He nodded sententiously an assent, and, after a moment's rumination,
said
'It strikes me, lad, there can be no need of begging for that which
usually comes unlooked for; but if thou don't choose to wait for thy
billet for t'other world, but must go and seek it, the best way will be
to up and tell the general as much.'
'That was exactly my intention.'
'If he asks thee, Canst ride? just say, Old Tronchon taught me;
he 'll be one of the young hands, indeed, if he don't know that name!
And, mind, lad, have no whims or caprices about whatever service he
names thee for, even were 't the infantry itself! It's a hard word,
thatI know it well; but a man must make up his mind for anything and
everything. Wear any coat, go anywhere, face any enemy thou 'rt
ordered, and have none of those newfangled notions about this general,
or that army. Be a good soldier and a good comrade. Share thy kit and
thy purse to the last sou, for it will not only be generous in thee,
but that so long as thou hoardest not, thou'lt never be over-eager for
pillage. Mind these things, and with a stout heart and a sharp sabre,
Maurice, tu iras loin. Yes, I tell thee again, lad, tu iras
loin.'
I give these three words as he said them, for they have rung in my
ears throughout all my life long. In moments of gratified ambition, in
the glorious triumph of success, they have sounded to me like the
confirmed predictions of one who foresaw my elevation in less
prosperous hours. When fortune has looked dark and lowering, they have
been my comforter and support, telling me not to be downcast or
depressed, that the season of sadness would pass away, and the road to
fame and honour again open before me.
'You really think so, Tronchon? You think that I shall be something
yet?'
'Tu iras loin, I say,' repeated he emphatically, and with the
air of an oracle who would not suffer further interrogation. I
therefore shook his hand cordially, and set out to pay my visit to the
general.
CHAPTER IX. A SCRAPE AND ITS
CONSEQUENCES
When I reached the quarters of the état-major, I found the great
courtyard of the 'hotel' crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of
the service. Some were newly joined recruits waiting for the orders to
be forwarded to their respective regiments, some were invalids just
issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way
homeward. There were sergeants with their billet-rolls, and returns,
and court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents
hastening hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came
and went; all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff
uniforms called out the orders from the different windows, and
despatches were sent off here and there with hot haste. The building
was the ancient palace of the Dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid
fountain of white marble in the centre of the cour, still showed
the proud armorial bearings of that princely house. Around the
sculptured base of this now were seated groups of soldiers, their
war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting strangely enough with the
great porcelain vases of flowering plants that still decorated the rich
plateau. Shakos, helmets, and greatcoats were hung upon the
orange-trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the white leather
apron of the sapeur, were drying along the marble benches of the
terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, which
separated the court from the garden, was actually covered with belts,
swords, bayonets, and horse-gear, in every stage and process of
cleaning. Within the garden itself, however, all was silent and
stilltwo sentries, who paced backwards and forwards beneath the
grille, showing that the spot was to be respected by those whose
careless gestures and reckless air betrayed how little influence the
mere 'genius of the place' would exercise over them.
To me the interest of everything was increasing; and whether I
lingered to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at
all he saw, or stopped to hear the campaigning stories of the old
soldiers of the army, I never wearied. Few, if any, knew whither they
were goingperhaps to the north to join the army of the Sambre;
perhaps to the east to the force upon the Rhine. It might be that they
were destined for Italynone cared! Meanwhile, at every moment,
detachments moved off, and their places were filled by fresh
arrivalsall dusty and wayworn from the march. Some had scarcely time
to eat a hurried morsel, when they were called on to 'fall in,' and
again the word 'forward' was given. Such of the infantry as appeared
too weary for the march were sent on in great charrettes drawn by six
or eight horses, and capable of carrying forty men in each; and of
these there seemed to be no end. No sooner was one detachment away than
another succeeded. Whatever their destination, one thing seemed
evident, the urgency that called them was beyond the common. For a
while I forgot all about myself in the greater interest of the scene;
but then came the thought that I too should have my share in this
onward movement, and now I set out to seek for my young friend, the
sous-lieutenant. I had not asked his name, but his regiment I knew to
be the 22nd Chasseurs à cheval. The uniform was light green, and easily
enough to be recognised; yet nowhere was it to be seen. There were
cuirassiers, and hussars, heavy dragoons, and carabiniers in
abundanceeverything, in short, but what I sought.
At last I asked of an old quartermaster where the 22nd were
quartered, and heard, to my utter dismay, that they had marched that
morning at eight o'clock. There were two more squadrons expected to
arrive at noon, but the orders were that they were to proceed without
further halt.
'And whither to,' asked I.
'To Treves, on the Moselle,' said he, and turned away as if he would
not be questioned further. It was true that my young friend could not
have been much of a patron, yet the loss of him was deeply felt by me.
He was to have introduced me to his colonel, who probably might have
obtained the leave I desired at once; and now I knew no one, not one
even to advise me how to act. I sat down upon a bench to think, but
could resolve on nothing; the very sight of that busy scene had now
become a reproach to me. There were the veterans of a hundred battles
hastening forward again to the field; there were the young soldiers
just flushed with recent victory; even the peasant boys were 'eager for
the fray'; but I alone was to have no part in the coming glory. The
enthusiasm of all around only served to increase and deepen my
depression. There was not one there, from the old and war-worn veteran
of the ranks to the merest boy, with whom I would not gladly have
exchanged fortunes. Some hours passed over in these gloomy reveries,
and when I looked up from the stupor my own thoughts had thrown over
me, the cour was almost empty. A few sick soldiers, waiting for
their billets of leave, a few recruits not yet named to any corps, and
a stray orderly or two standing beside his horse, were all that
remained.
I arose to go away, but in my preoccupation of mind, instead of
turning toward the street, I passed beneath a large archway into
another court of the building, somewhat smaller, but much richer in
decoration and ornament than the outer one. After spending some time
admiring the quaint devices and grim heads which peeped out from all
the architraves and friezes, my eye was caught by a low, arched
doorway, in the middle of which was a small railed window, like the
grille of a convent. I approached, and perceived that it led into a
garden, by a long, narrow walk of clipped yew, dense and upright as a
wall The trimly raked gravel, and the smooth surface of the hedge,
showed the care bestowed on the grounds to be a wide contrast to the
neglect exhibited in the mansion itself; a narrow border of hyacinths
and carnations ran along either side of the walk, the gorgeous blossoms
appearing in strong relief against the background of dark foliage.
The door, as I leaned against it, gently yielded to the pressure of
my arm, and almost without knowing it, I found myself standing within
the precincts of the garden. My first impulse, of course, was to retire
and close the door again, but somehow, I never knew exactly why, I
could not resist the desire to see a little more of a scene so
tempting. There was no mark of footsteps on the gravel, and I thought
it likely the garden was empty. On I went, therefore, at first with
cautious and uncertain steps, at last with more confidence, for as I
issued from the hedge-walk, and reached an open space beyond, the
solitude seemed unbroken. Fruit-trees, loaded with blossom, stood in a
closely shaven lawn, through which a small stream meandered, its banks
planted with daffodils and water-lilies. Some pheasants moved about
through the grass, but without alarm at my presence; while a young fawn
boldly came over to me, and although in seeming disappointment at not
finding an old friend, continued to walk beside me as I went.
The grounds appeared of great extent: paths led off in every
direction; and while, in some places, I could perceive the glittering
roof and sides of a conservatory, in others the humble culture of a
vegetable garden was to be seen. There was a wondrous fascination in
the calm and tranquil solitude around; and coming, as it did, so
immediately after the busy bustle of the 'soldiering,' I soon not only
forgot that I was an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander
'fancy free,' following out the thoughts each object suggested. I
believe at that moment, if the choice were given me, I would rather
have been the 'Adam of that Eden' than the proudest of those generals
that ever led a column to victory! Fortunately, or unfortunatelyit
would not be easy to decide whichthe alternative was not open to me.
It was while I was still musing, I found myself at the foot of a little
eminence, on which stood a tower whose height and position showed it
had been built for the view it afforded over a vast tract of country.
Even from where I stood, at its base, I could see over miles and miles
of a great plain, with the main roads leading towards the north and
eastward. This spot was also the boundary of the grounds, and a portion
of the old boulevard of the town formed the defence against the open
country beyond. It was a deep ditch, with sides of sloping sward,
cropped neatly, and kept in trimmest order, but, from its depth and
width, forming a fence of a formidable kind. I was peering cautiously
down into the abyss, when I heard a voice so close to my ear that I
started with surprise. I listened, and perceived that the speaker was
directly above me, and leaning over the battlements at the top of the
tower.
'You're quite right,' cried he, as he adjusted a telescope to his
eye, and directed his view towards the plain. 'He has gone wrong! He
has taken the Strasbourg road, instead of the northern one.'
An exclamation of anger followed these words; and now I saw the
telescope passed to another hand, and, to my astonishment, that of a
lady.
'Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others,
and yetParbleu! it's too bad!'
I could perceive that a female voice made some rejoinder, but did
not distinguish the words; when the man again spoke
'No, no; it's all a blunder of that old major; and here am I without
an orderly to send after him. Diable! it is provoking.'
'Isn't that one of your people at the foot of the tower?' said the
lady, as she pointed to where I stood, praying for the earth to open
and close over me; for, as he moved his head to look down, I saw the
epaulettes of a staff-officer.
'Holloa!' cried he, 'are you on duty?'
'No, sir; I was'
Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on
'Follow that division of cavalry that has taken the Strasbourg road,
and tell Major Roquelard that he has gone wrong; he should have turned
off to the left at the suburbs. Lose no time, but away at once. You are
mounted, of course?'
'No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can'
'No, no; it will be too late,' he broke in again. 'Take my
troop-horse, and be off. You'll find him in the stable to your left.'
Then turning to the lady I heard him say
'It may save Roquelard from an arrest.'
I did not wait for more, but hurried off in the direction he had
pointed. A short gravel walk brought me in front of a low building, in
the cottage style, but which, decorated with emblems of the chase, I
guessed to be the stable. Not a groom was to be seen; but the door
being unlatched I entered freely. Four large and handsome horses were
feeding at the racks, their glossy coats and long silken manes showing
the care bestowed upon them. Which is the trooper? thought I, as I
surveyed them all with keen and scrutinising eye. All my skill in such
matters was unable to decide the point; they seemed all alike valuable
and handsomein equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of
careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters
'R. F.'; and these, of course, were cavalry horses. One was a powerful
black horse, whose strong quarters and deep chest bespoke great action,
while the backward glances of his eye indicated the temper of a
'tartar.' Making choice of him without an instant's hesitation, I threw
on the saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the
bridle, and led him forth. In all my 'school experience' I had never
seen an animal that pleased me so much; his well-arched neck and
slightly dipped back showed that an Arab cross had mingled with the
stronger qualities of the Norman horse. I sprang to my saddle with
delight; to be astride such a beast was to kindle up all the enthusiasm
of my nature; and as I grasped the reins, and urged him forward, I was
half wild with excitement.
Apparently the animal was accustomed to more gentle treatment, for
he gave a loud snort, such as a surprised or frightened horse will
give, and then bounded forward once or twice, as if to dismount me.
This failing, he reared up perfectly straight, pawing madly, and
threatening even to fall backwards. I saw that I had, indeed, selected
a wicked one; for in every bound and spring, in every curvet and leap,
the object was clearly to unseat the rider. At one instant he would
crouch, as if to lie down, and then bound up several feet in the air,
with a toss up of his haunches that almost sent me over the head. At
another he would spring from side to side, writhing and twisting like a
fish, till the saddle seemed actually slipping away from his lithe
body. Not only did I resist all these attacks, but vigorously continued
to punish with whip and spur the entire timea proceeding, I could
easily see, he was not prepared for. At last, actually maddened with
his inability to throw me, and enraged by my continuing to spur him, he
broke away, and dashing headlong forward, rushed into the very thickest
of the grove. Fortunately for me, the trees were either shrubs or of
stunted growth, so that I had only to keep my saddle to escape danger;
but suddenly emerging from this, he gained the open sward, and as if
his passion became more furious as he indulged in it, he threw up his
head, and struck out in full gallop. I had but time to see that he was
heading for the great fosse of the boulevard, when we were already on
its brink. A shout, and a cry of I know not what, came from the tower;
but I heard nothing more. Mad as the maddened animal himself, perhaps
at that moment just as indifferent to life, I dashed the spurs into his
flanks, and oyer we went, lighting on the green sward as easily as a
seagull on a wave. To all seeming, the terrible leap had somewhat
sobered him; but on me it had produced the very opposite effect. I felt
that I had gained the mastery, and resolved to use it. With unrelenting
punishment, then, I rode him forward, taking the country as it lay
straight before me. The few fences which divided the great fields were
too insignificant to be called leaps, and he took them in the 'sling'
of his stretching gallop. He was now subdued, yielding to every turn of
my wrist, and obeying every motive of my will like an instinct. It may
read like a petty victory; but he who has ever experienced the triumph
over an enraged and powerful horse, well knows that few sensations are
more pleasurably exciting. High as is the excitement of being borne
along in full speed, leaving village and spire, glen and river, bridge
and mill behind younow careering up the mountain-side, with the fresh
breeze upon your brow; now diving into the dark forest, startling the
hare from her cover, and sending the wild deer scampering before
youit is still increased by the sense of a victory; by feeling that
the mastery is with you, and that each bound of the noble beast beneath
you has its impulse in your own heart.
Although the cavalry squadrons I was despatched to overtake had
quitted Nancy four hours before, I came up with them in less than an
hour, and inquiring for the officer in command, rode up to the head of
the division. He was a thin, gaunt-looking, stern-featured man, who
listened to my message without changing a muscle.
'Who sent you with this order?' said he.
'A general officer, sir, whose name I don't know, but who told me to
take his own horse and follow you.'
'Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir?' said he, pointing to the
heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast.
'He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of
the boulevard, rode away with me.'
'Why, it's Colonel Mahon's Arab, Aleppo,' said another officer;
'what could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a beast worth ten
thousand francs?'
I thought I'd have fainted, as I heard these words; the whole
consequences of my act revealed themselves before me, and I saw arrest,
trial, sentence, imprisonment, and Heaven knew what afterwards, like a
panorama rolling out to my view.
'Tell the colonel, sir,' said the major, 'that I have taken the
north road, intending to cross over at Beaumont; that the artillery
trains have cut up the Metz road so deeply, cavalry cannot travel; tell
him I thank him much for his politeness in forwarding this despatch to
me; and tell him, that I regret the rules of active service should
prevent my sending back an escort to place yourself under arrest for
the manner in which you have riddenyou hear, sir?'
I touched my cap in salute.
'Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?'
'I am, sir.'
'Repeat it, then.'
I repeated the reply, word for word, as he spoke it.
'No, sir,' said he as I concluded; 'I said for unsoldier-like and
cruel treatment to your horse.'
One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly
added
'I find that I had not used these words, but I ought to have done
so; give the message, therefore, as you heard it at first.'
'Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty,' muttered one of the
captains.
'I'd not blame him,' joined another; 'that horse saved his life at
Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!'
The major made a sign for me to retire, and I turned and set ont
towards Nancy, with the feelings of a convict on the way to his fate.
If I did not feel that these brief records of a humble career were
'upon honour,' and that the only useful lesson a life so unimportant
can teach, is the conflict between opposing influences, I might
possibly be disposed to blink the avowal, that, as I rode along towards
Nancy, a very great doubt occurred to me as to whether I ought not to
desert! It is a very ignoble expression; but it must out. There were
not in the French service any of those ignominious punishments which,
once undergone, a man is dishonoured for ever, and no more admissible
to rank with men of character than if convicted of actual crime; but
there were marks of degradation, almost as severe, then in vogue, and
which men dreaded with a fear nearly as acutesuch, for instance, as
being ordered for service at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulonthe arduous
duty of guarding the galley-slaves, and which was scarcely a degree
above the condition of the condemned themselves. Than such a fate as
this, I would willingly have preferred death. It was, then, this
thought that suggested desertion; but I soon rejected the unworthy
temptation, and held on my way towards Nancy.
Aleppo, if at first wearied by the severe burst, soon rallied, while
he showed no traces of his fiery temper, and exhibited few of fatigue;
and as I walked along at his side, washing his mouth and nostrils at
each fountain I passed, and slackening his saddle-girths to give him
freedom, long before we arrived at the suburbs he had regained all his
looks and much of his spirit.
At last we entered Nancy about nightfall, and, with a failing heart,
I found myself at the gate of the ducal palace. The sentries suffered
me to pass unmolested, and entering, I took my way through the
courtyard, towards the small gate of the garden, which, as I had left
it, was unlatched.
It was strange enough, the nearer I drew towards the eventful moment
of my fate, the more resolute and composed my heart became. It is
possible, thought I, that in a fit of passion he will send a ball
through me, as the officer said. Be it sothe matter is the sooner
ended. If, however, he will condescend to listen to my explanation, I
may be able to assert my innocence, at least so far as intention went.
With this comforting conclusion, I descended at the stable door. Two
dragoons in undress were smoking, as they lay at full length upon a
bench, and speedily arose as I came up.
'Tell the colonel he's come, Jacques,' said one, in a loud voice,
and the other retired; while the speaker, turning towards me, took the
bridle from my hand, and led the animal in, without vouchsafing a word
to me.
'An active beast that,' said I, affecting the easiest and coolest
indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and
I continued
'He has had a bad hand on him, I should saysome one too flurried
and too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse.'
Another stare was all the reply.
'In a little time, and with a little patience, I'd make him as
gentle as a lamb.'
'I'm afraid you'll not have the opportunity,' replied he
significantly; 'but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can
discuss the matter together.'
The other dragoon had just then returned, and made me a sign to
follow him. A few paces brought us to the door of a small pavilion, at
which a sentry stood; and having motioned to me to pass in, my guide
left me. An orderly sergeant at the same instant appeared, and
beckoning to me to advance, he drew aside a curtain, and pushing me
forward, let the heavy folds close behind me; and now I found myself in
a richly furnished chamber, at the farther end of which an officer was
at supper with a young and handsome woman. The profusion of wax-lights
on the tablethe glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelainthe
richness of the lady's dress, which seemed like the costume of a
ballwere all objects distracting enough, but they could not turn me
from the thought of my own condition; and I stood motionless, while the
officer, a man of about fifty, with dark and stern features,
deliberately scanned me from head to foot. Not a word did he speak, not
a gesture did he make, but sat, with his black eyes actually piercing
me. I would have given anything for some outbreak of anger, some burst
of passion, that would have put an end to this horrible suspense, but
none came; and there he remained several minutes, as if contemplating
something too new and strange for utterance. 'This must have an end,'
thought I'here goes'; and so, with my hand in salute, I drew myself
full up, and said
'I carried your orders, sir, and received for answer that Major
Roquelard had taken the north road advisedly, as that by Beaumont was
cut up by the artillery trains; that he would cross over to the Metz
Chaussée as soon as possible; that he thanked you for the kindness of
your warning, and regretted that the rules of active service precluded
his despatching an escort of arrest along with me, for the manner in
which I had ridden with the order.'
'Anything more?' asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick
and guttural with passion.
'Nothing more, sir.'
'No further remark or observation?' 'None, sirat least from the
major.'
'What thenfrom any other?'
'A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something.'
'What was it?'
'I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that
Colonel Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back.'
'And you replied?'
'I don't believe I made any reply at the time, sir.'
'But you thought, sirwhat were your thoughts?'
'I thought it very like what I'd have done myself in a like case,
although certain to be sorry for it afterwards.'
Whether the emotion had been one for some time previous restrained,
or that my last words had provoked it suddenly, I cannot tell, but the
lady here burst out into a fit of laughter, but which was as suddenly
checked by some sharp observation of the colonel, whose stern features
grew sterner and darker every moment.
'There we differ, sir,' said he, 'for I should not' At the same
instant he pushed his plate away, to make room on the table for a small
portfolio, opening which, he prepared to write.
'You will bring this paper,' continued he, 'to the provost-marshal.
To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and
as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labour'
'I 'll save them the trouble,' said I, quietly drawing my sword; but
scarcely was it clear of the scabbard when a shriek broke from the
lady, who possibly knew not the object of my act; at the same instant
the colonel bounded across the chamber, and striking me a severe blow
upon the arm, dashed the weapon from my hand to the ground.
'You want the fusilladeis that what you want?' cried he, as, in a
towering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now
standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes towards me, and
at once broke out into a burst of laughtersuch hearty, merry
laughter, that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost
have joined in it.
'What is itwhat do you mean, Laure?' cried the colonel angrily.
'Don't you see it?' said she, still holding her kerchief to her
face'can't you perceive it yourself? He has only one moustache!'
I turned hastily towards the mirror beside me, and there was the
fatal fact revealedone gallant curl disported proudly over the left
cheek, while the other was left bare.
'Is the fellow mada mountebank?' said the colonel, whose anger was
now at its white heat.
'Neither, sir,' said I, tearing off my remaining moustache, in shame
and passion together. 'Among my other misfortunes I have that of being
young; and what's worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my
error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity
or temper.'
With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made
every glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an
oath that was only current in the days of that army. 'This is beyond
belief,' cried he. 'Come, gredin, you have at least had one
piece of good fortune: you've fallen precisely into the hands of one
who can deal with you.Your regiment?'
'The Ninth Hussars.'
'Your name?'
'Tiernay.'
'Tiernay; that's not a French name?'
'Not originally; we were Irish once.'
'Irish,' said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto
used. 'Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once
served in the Royal Guard?'
'His son, sir.'
'Whathis son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother's
name thenwhat was it?'
'I never knew which was my mother,' said I. 'Mademoiselle de la
Lasterie or'
He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my
neck, pressed me to his bosom.
'You are little Maurice, then,' said he, 'the son of my old and
valued comrade! Only think of it, LaureI was that boy's godfather.'
Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great
effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated
between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me
with attention.
It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a fellow-guardsman with my
father, for whom he had ever preserved the warmest attachment. One of
the few survivors of the Garde du Corps, he had taken service with the
Republic, and was already reputed as one of the most distinguished
cavalry officers.
'Strange enough, Maurice,' said he to me, 'there was something in
your look and manner, as you spoke to me there, that recalled your poor
father to my memory; and without knowing or suspecting why, I suffered
you to bandy words with me, while at another moment I would have
ordered you to be ironed and sent to prison.'
Of my mother, of whom I wished much to learn something, he would not
speak, but adroitly changed the conversation to the subject of my own
adventures, and these he made me recount from the beginning. If the
lady enjoyed all the absurdities of my chequered fortune with a keen
sense of the ridiculous, the colonel apparently could trace in them but
so many resemblances to my father's character, and constantly broke out
into exclamations of 'How like him!' 'Just what he would have done
himself!' 'His own very words! 'and so on.
It was only in a pause of the conversation, as the clock on the
mantelpiece struck eleven, that I was aware of the lateness of the
hour, and remembered that I should be on the punishment-roll the next
morning for absence from quarters.
'Never fret about that, MauriceI 'll return your name as on a
special service; and to have the benefit of truth on our side, you
shall be named one of my orderlies, with the grade of corporal.'
'Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?' said the lady, in a
half-whisper. 'I'm sure he is better worth his epaulettes than any I
have seen on your staff.'
'Nay, nay,' muttered the colonel, 'the rules of the service forbid
it. He'll win his spurs time enough, or I 'm much mistaken.'
While I thanked my new and kind patron for his goodness, I could not
help saying that my heart was eagerly set upon the prospect of actual
service; and that proud as I should be of his protection, I would
rather merit it by my conduct than owe my advancement to favour.
'Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill,
and want to see how men comport themselves where the manoeuvres are not
arranged beforehand. Well, so far you are right, boy. I shall, in all
likelihood, be stationed here for three or four months, during which
you might have advanced a stage or so towards those epaulettes my fair
friend desires to see upon your shoulders. You shall, therefore, be
sent forward to your own corps. I'll write to the colonel to confirm
the rank of corporal; the regiment is at present on the Moselle, and,
if I mistake not, will soon be actively employed Come to me to-morrow
before noon, and be prepared to march with the first detachments that
are sent forward.'
A cordial shake of the hand followed these words; and the lady
having also vouchsafed me an equal token of her good-will, I took my
leave, the happiest fellow that ever betook himself to quarters after
hours, and as indifferent to the penalties annexed to the breach of
discipline as if the whole code of martial law were a mere fable.
CHAPTER X. AN ARISTOCRATIC
REPUBLICAN
If the worthy reader would wish to fancy the happiest of all
youthful beings, let him imagine what I must have been, as, mounted
upon Aleppo, a present from my godfather, with a purse of six shining
louis in my pocket, and a letter to my colonel, I set forth for Metz. I
had breakfasted with Colonel Mahon, who, amid much good advice for my
future guidance, gave me, half slyly, to understand that the days of
Jacobinism had almost run their course, and that a reactionary movement
had already set in. The Republic, he added, was as strong, perhaps
stronger, than ever, but that men had grown weary of mob tyranny, and
were, day by day, reverting to the old loyalty, in respect for whatever
pretended to culture, good-breeding, and superior intelligence. 'As, in
a shipwreck, the crew instinctively turn for counsel and direction to
the officers, you will see that France will, notwithstanding all the
libertinism of our age, place her confidence in the men who have been
the tried and worthy servants of former governments. So far, then, from
suffering on account of your gentle blood, Maurice, the time is not
distant when it will do you good service, and when every association
that links you with family and fortune will be deemed an additional
guarantee of your good conduct. I mention these things,' continued he,
'because your colonel is what they call a Grosbleu that is, a
coarse-minded, inveterate republican, detesting aristocracy and all
that belongs to it. Take care, therefore, to give him no just cause for
discontent, but be just as steady in maintaining your position as the
descendant of a noble house, who has not forgotten what were once the
privileges of his rank. Write to me frequently and freely, and I'll
take care that you want for nothing, so far as my small means go, to
sustain whatever grade you occupy. Your own conduct shall decide
whether I ever desire to have any other inheritor than the son of my
oldest friend in the world.'
Such were his last words to me as I set forth, in company with a
large party, consisting for the most part of under-officers and
employés attached to the medical staff of the army. It was a very
joyous and merry fraternity, and, consisting of ingredients drawn from
different pursuits and arms of the service, infinitely amusing from
contrast of character and habits. My chief associate amongst them was a
young sous-lieutenant of dragoons, whose age, scarcely much above my
own, joined to a joyous, reckless temperament, soon pointed him out as
the character to suit me; his name was Eugène Santron. In appearance he
was slightly formed, and somewhat undersized, but with handsome
features, their animation rendered sparkling by two of the wickedest
black eyes that ever glistened and glittered in a human head. I soon
saw that, under the mask of affected fraternity and equality, he
nourished the most profound contempt for the greater number of
associates, who, in truth, were, however braves gens, the very
roughest and least-polished specimens of the polite nation. In all his
intercourse with them, Eugène affected the easiest tone of camaraderie
and equality, never assuming in the slightest, nor making any
pretensions to the least superiority on the score of position or
acquirements, but on the whole consoling himself, as it were, by
'playing them off' in their several eccentricities, and rendering every
trait of their vulgarity and ignorance tributary to his own amusement.
Partly from seeing that he made me an exception to this practice, and
partly from his perceiving the amusement it afforded me, we drew closer
towards each other, and before many days elapsed, had become sworn
friends.
There is probably no feature of character so very attractive to a
young man as frankness. The most artful of all flatteries is that which
addresses itself by candour, and seems at once to select, as it were by
intuition, the object most suited for a confidence. Santron carried me
by a coup de main of this kind, as, taking my arm one evening as
I was strolling along the banks of the Moselle, he said
'My dear Maurice, it's very easy to see that the society of our
excellent friends yonder is just as distasteful to you as to me. One
cannot always be satisfied laughing at their solecisms in breeding and
propriety. One grows weary at last of ridiculing their thousand
absurdities; and then there comes the terrible retribution in the
reflection of what the devil brought me into such company? a question
that, however easily answered, grows more and more intolerable the
oftener it is asked. To be sure, in my case there was little choice in
the matter, for I was not in any way the arbiter of my own fortune. I
saw myself converted from a royal page to a printer's devil by a kind
old fellow, who saved my life by smearing my face with ink, and
covering my scarlet uniform with a filthy blouse; and since that day I
have taken the hint, and often found the lesson a good onethe dirtier
the safer!
'We were of the old nobility of France, but as the name of our
family was the cause of its extinction, I took care to change it. I see
you don't clearly comprehend me, and so I'll explain myself better. My
father lived unmolested during the earlier days of the Revolution, and
might so have continued to the end, if a detachment of the Garde
Républicaine had not been despatched to our neighbourhood of Saarlouis,
where it was supposed some lurking regard for royalty yet lingered.
These fellows neither knew nor cared for the ancient noblesse of the
country, and one evening a patrol of them stopped my father as he was
taking his evening walk along the ramparts. He would scarcely deign to
notice the insolent 'Qui va là? of the sentry, a summons he at
least thought superfluous in a town which had known his ancestry for
eight or nine generations. At the repetition of the cry, accompanied by
something that sounded ominous, in the sharp click of a gun-lock, he
replied haughtily, Je suis le Marquis de Saint-Trône.
'There are no more marquises in France! was the savage answer.
'My father smiled contemptuously, and briefly said Saint-Trône.
'We have no saints either, cried another.
'Be it so, my friend, said he, with mingled pity and disgust. I
suppose some designation may at least be left to me, and that I may
call myself Trône.
'We are done with thrones long ago, shouted they in chorus, and
we 'll finish you also.
'Ay, and they kept their word, too. They shot him that same evening,
on very little other charge than his own name! If I have retained the
old sound of my name, I have given it a more plebeian spelling, which
is, perhaps, just as much of an alteration as any man need submit to
for a period that will pass away so soon.'
'How so, Eugène? you fancy the Republic will not endure in France.
What, then, can replace it?'
'Anything, everything; for the future all is possible. We have
annihilated legitimacy, it is true, just as the Indians destroy a
forest, by burning the trees; but the roots remain; and if the soil is
incapable of sending up the giant stems as before, it is equally unable
to furnish a new and different culture. Monarchy is just as firmly
rooted in a Frenchman's heart, but he will have neither patience for
its tedious growth, nor can he submit to restore what has cost him so
dearly to destroy. The consequences will, therefore, be a long and
continued struggle between parties, each imposing upon the nation the
form, of government that pleases it in turn. Meanwhile you and I, and
others like us, must serve whatever is uppermostthe cleverest fellow
he who sees the coming change, and prepares to take advantage of it.'
'Then you are a Royalist?' asked I.
'A Royalist! What! stand by a monarch who deserted his aristocracy,
and forgot his own order; defend a throne that he had reduced to the
condition of a fauteuil de Bourgeois?'
'You are then for the Republic?'
'For what robbed me of my inheritancewhat degraded me from my
rank, and reduced me to a state below that of my own vassals! Is this a
cause to uphold?'
'You are satisfied with military glory, perhaps,' said I, scarcely
knowing what form of faith to attribute to him.
'In an army where my superiors are the very dregs of the people;
where the canaille have the command, and the chivalry of France is
represented by a sans-culotte!'
'The cause of the Church'
A hurst of ribald laughter cut me short, and laying his hand on my
shoulder he looked me full in the face; while with a struggle to
recover his gravity, he said
'I hope, my dear Maurice, you are not serious, and that you do not
mean this for earnest. Why, my dear boy, don't you talk of the
Eleusinian Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle of Alchemy, Astrologyof
anything, in short, of which the world, having amused itself, has at
length grown weary? Can't you see that the Church has passed away, and
these good priests have gone the same road as their predecessors? Is
any acuteness wanting to show that there is an end of this superstition
that has enthralled men's minds for a couple of thousand years? No, no,
their game is up, and for ever. These pious men, who despised this
world, and yet had no other hold upon the minds of others than by the
very craft and subtlety that world taught themthese heavenly souls,
whose whole machinations revolved about earthy objects and the
successes of this grovelling planet! Fight for them! No, parbleu!
we owe them but little love or affection. Their whole aim in life has
been to disgust one with whatever is enjoyable, and the best boon they
have conferred upon humanity, that bright thought of locking up the
softest eyes and fairest cheeks of France in cloisters and nunneries! I
can forgive our glorious Revolution much of its wrong when I think of
the Prêtre; not but that they could have knocked down the church
without suffering the ruins to crush the château!'
Such, in brief, were the opinions my companion held, and of which I
was accustomed to hear specimens every day; at first, with displeasure
and repugnance; later on, with more of toleration; and at last, with a
sense of amusement at the singularity of the notions, or the dexterity
with which he defended them. The poison of his doctrines was the more
insidious, because it was mingled with a certain dash of good-nature,
and a reckless, careless easiness of disposition always attractive to
very young men. His reputation for courage, of which he had given
signal proofs, elevated him in my esteem; and, ere long, all my
misgivings about him, in regard of certain blemishes, gave way before
my admiration of his heroic bearing and a readiness to confront peril,
wherever to be found.
I had made him the confidant of my own history, of which I told him
everything, save the passages which related to the Père Michel. These I
either entirely glossed over, or touched so lightly as to render
unimportanta dread of ridicule restraining me from any mention of
those earlier scenes of my life, which were alone of all those I should
have avowed with pride. Perhaps it was from mere accidentperhaps some
secret shame to conceal my forlorn and destitute condition may have had
its share in the motive; but, for some cause or other, I gave him to
understand that my acquaintance with Colonel Mahon had dated back to a
much earlier period than a few days before, and, the impression once
made, a sense of false shame led me to support it.
'Mahon can be a good friend to you,' said Eugène; 'he stands well
with all parties. The Convention trust him, the sans-culottes are
afraid of him, and the few men of family whom the guillotine has left
look up to him as one of their stanchest adherents. Depend upon it,
therefore, your promotion is safe enough, even if there were not a
field open for every man who seeks the path to eminence. The great
point, however, is to get service with the army of Italy. These
campaigns here are as barren and profitless as the soil they are fought
over; but, in the south, Maurice, in the land of dark eyes and tresses,
under the blue skies, or beneath the trellised vines, there are rewards
of victory more glorious than a grateful country, as they call it, ever
bestowed. Never forget, my boy, that you or I have no cause! It is to
us a matter of indifference what party triumphs, or who is uppermost.
The Government may change to-morrow, and the day after, and so on for a
month long, and yet we remain just as we were. Monarchy, Commonwealth,
Democracywhat you willmay rule the hour, but the sous-lieutenant is
but the servant who changes his master. Now, in revenge for all this,
we have one compensation, which is, to live for the dayto make the
most of that brief hour of sunshine granted us, and to taste of every
pleasure, to mingle in every dissipation, and enjoy every excitement
that we can. This is my philosophy, Maurice, and just try it.'
Such was the companion with whom chance threw me in contact, and I
grieve to think how rapidly his influence gained the mastery over me.
CHAPTER XI. 'THE PASSAGE OP THE
RHINE'
I parted from my friend Eugène at Treves, where he remained in
garrison, while I was sent forward to Coblentz to join my regiment, at
that time forming part of Ney's division.
Were I to adhere in my narrative to the broad current of great
events, I should here have to speak of that grand scheme of tactics by
which Kléber, advancing from the Lower Rhine, engaged the attention of
the Austrian Grand-Duke, in order to give time and opportunity for
Hoche's passage of the river at Strasbourg, and the commencement of
that campaign which had for its object the subjugation of Germany. I
have not, however, the pretension to chronicle those passages which
history has for ever made memorable, even were my own share in them of
a more distinguished character. The insignificance of my station must,
therefore, be my apology if I turn from the description of great and
eventful incidents to the humble narrative of my own career.
Whatever the contents of Colonel Mahon's letter, they did not plead
very favourably for me with Colonel Hacque, my new commanding officer;
neither, to all seeming, did my own appearance weigh anything in my
favour. Raising his eyes at intervals from the letter to stare at me,
he uttered some broken phrases of discontent and displeasure; at last
he said'What's the object of this letter, sir; to what end have you
presented it to me?'
'As I am ignorant of its contents, mon colonel,' said I calmly, 'I
can scarcely answer the question.'
'Well, sir, it informs me that you are the son of a certain Count
Tiernay, who has long since paid the price of his nobility; and that,
being an especial protégé of the writer, he takes occasion to present
you to me; now I ask again, with what object?'
'I presume, sir, to obtain for me the honour which I now enjoyto
become personally known to you.'
'I know every soldier under my command, sir,' said he rebukingly,
'as you will soon learn if you remain in my regiment. I have no need of
recommendatory letters on that score. As to your grade of corporal, it
is not confirmed; time enough when your services shall have shown that
you deserve promotion. Parbleu! sir, you'll have to show other
claims than your ci-devant countship.'
Colonel Mahon gave me a horse, sir; may I be permitted to retain him
as a regimental mount?' asked I timidly.
'We want horseswhat is he like?'
'Three-quarters Arab, and splendid in action, sir.'
'Then, of course, unfit for service and field manoeuvres.
Send him to the état-major. The Republic will find a fitting mount
for you; you may retire.'
And I did retire, with a heart almost bursting between anger and
disappointment. What a future did this opening present to me! What a
realisation this of all my flattering hopes!
This sudden reverse of fortune, for it was nothing less, did not
render me more disposed to make the best of my new condition, nor see
in the most pleasing light the rough and rude fraternity among which I
was thrown. The Ninth Hussars were reputed to be an excellent
service-corps, but, off duty, contained some of the worst ingredients
of the army. Play, and its consequence, duelling, filled up every hour
not devoted to regimental duty; and low as the tone of manners and
morals stood in the service generally, 'Hacque's Tapageurs,' as they
were called, enjoyed the unflattering distinction of being the leaders.
Self-respect was a quality utterly unknown amongst themnone felt
ashamed at the disgrace of punishment; and as all knew that, at the
approach of the enemy, prison-doors would open, and handcuffs fall off,
they affected to think the 'Salle de Police' was a pleasant alternative
to the fatigue and worry of duty. These habits not only stripped
soldiering of all its chivalry, but robbed freedom itself of all its
nobility. These men saw nothing but licentiousness in their newly won
liberty. Their 'Equality' was the permission to bring everything down
to a base and unworthy standard; their 'Fraternity,' the appropriation
of what belonged to one richer than themselves.
It would give me little pleasure to recount, and the reader, in all
likelihood, as little to hear, the details of my life among such
associates. They are the passages of my history most painful to recall,
and least worthy of being remembered; nor can I even yet write without
shame the confession, how rapidly their habits became my own. Eugene's
teachings had prepared me, in a manner, for their lessons. His
scepticism, extending to everything and every one, had made me
distrustful of all friendship, and suspicious of whatever appeared a
kindness. Vulgar association, and daily intimacy with coarsely minded
men, soon finished what he had begun; and in less time than it took me
to break my troop-horse to regimental drill, I had been myself 'broke
in' to every vice and abandoned habit of my companions. It was not in
my nature to do things by halves; and thus I became, and in a brief
space, too, the most inveterate Tapageur of the whole regiment. There
was not a wild prank or plot in which I was not foremost, not a breach
of discipline unaccompanied by my name or presence, and more than half
the time of our march to meet the enemy, I passed in double irons under
the guard of the provost-marshal.
It was at this pleasant stage of my education that our brigade
arrived at Strasbourg, as part of the corps d'armée, under the
command of General Moreau.
He had just succeeded to the command on the dismissal of Pichegru,
and found the army not only dispirited by the defeats of the past
campaign, but in a state of rudest indiscipline and disorganisation. If
left to himself, he would have trusted much to time and circumstances
for the reform of abuses that had been the growth of many months long.
But Régnier, the second in command, was made of 'different stuff'; he
was a harsh and stern disciplinarian, who rarely forgave a first, never
a second, offence, and who, deeming the 'Salle de Police' as an
encumbrance to an army on service, which, besides, required a guard of
picked men, that might be better employed elsewhere, usually gave the
preference to the shorter sentence of 'four paces and a fusillade.' Nor
was he particular in the classification of those crimes he thus
expiated: from the most trivial excess to the wildest scheme of
insubordination, all came under the one category. More than once, as we
drew near to Strasbourg, I heard the project of a mutiny discussed, day
after day. Some one or other would denounce the 'scélérat
Régnier,' and proclaim his readiness to be the executioner; but the
closer we drew to headquarters, the more hushed and subdued became
these mutterings, till at last they ceased altogether, and a dark and
foreboding dread succeeded to all our late boastings and denunciations.
This at first surprised and then utterly disgusted me with my
companions. Brave as they were before the enemy, had they no courage
for their own countrymen? Was all their valour the offspring of
security, or could they only be rebellious when the penalty had no
terrors for them? Alas! I was very young, and did not then know that
men are never strong against the right, and that a bad cause is always
a weak one.
It was about the middle of June when we reached Strasbourg, where
now about forty thousand troops were assembled. I shall not readily
forget the mingled astonishment and disappointment our appearance
excited as the regiment entered the town. The Tapageurs, so celebrated
for all their terrible excesses and insubordination, were seen to be a
fine corps of soldierlike fellows, their horses in high condition,
their equipments and arms in the very best order. Neither did our
conduct at all tally with the reputation that preceded us. All was
orderly and regular in the several billets; the parade was particularly
observed; not a man late at the night muster. What was the cause of
this sudden and remarkable change? Some said that we were marching
against the enemy; but the real explanation lay in the few words of a
general order read to us by our colonel the day before we entered the
city:
'The 9th Hussars have obtained the unworthy reputation of
being an ill-disciplined and ill-conducted regiment, relying
upon their soldierlike qualities in face of the enemy to
cover the disgrace of their misconduct in quarters. This is
a mistake that must be corrected. All Frenchmen are brave;
none can arrogate to themselves any prerogative of valour.
If any wish to establish such a belief, a campaign can
always attest it. If any profess to think so without such
proof, and, acting in conformity with this impression,
disobey their orders or infringe regimental discipline, I
will have them shot.
'Régnier, Adjutant-General.'
This was, at least, a very straightforward and intelligible
announcement, and as such my comrades generally acknowledged it. I,
however, regarded it as a piece of monstrous and intolerable tyranny,
and sought to make converts to my opinion by declaiming about the
rights of Frenchmen, the liberty of free discussion, the glorious
privilege of equality, and so on; but these arguments sounded faint in
presence of the drumhead; and while some slunk away from the circle
around me, others significantly hinted that they would accept no part
of the danger my doctrines might originate.
However I might have respected my comrades had they been always the
well-disciplined body I now saw them, I confess that this sudden
conversion through fear was in nowise to my taste, and rashly
confounded their dread of punishment with a base and ignoble fear of
death. 'And these are the men,' thought I, 'who talk of their charging
home through the dense squares of Austriawho have hunted the leopard
into the sea, and have carried the flag of France over the high Alps?'
A bold rebel, whatever may be the cause against which he revolts,
will always be sure of a certain ascendency. Men are prone to attribute
power to pretension, and he who stands foremost in the breach will at
least win the suffrages of those whose cause he assumes to defend. In
this way it happened that exactly, as my comrades fell in my esteem, I
was elevated in theirs; and while I took a very depreciating estimate
of their courage, they conceived a very exalted opinion of mine.
It was altogether inexplicable to see these men, many of them the
bronzed veterans of a dozen campaignsthe wounded and distinguished
soldiers in many a hard-fought field, yielding up their opinions and
sacrificing their convictions to a raw and untried stripling who had
never yet seen an enemy.
With a certain fluency of speech I possessed also a readiness at
picking up information, and arraying the scattered fragments of news
into a certain consistence, which greatly imposed upon my comrades. A
quick eye for manoeuvres, and a shrewd habit of combining in my own
mind the various facts that came before me, made me appear to them a
perfect authority on military matters, of which I talked, I shame to
say, with all the confidence and presumption of an accomplished
general. A few lucky guesses, and a few half hints, accidentally
confirmed, completed all that was wanting; and what says 'Le Jeune
Maurice,' was the inevitable question that followed each piece of
flying gossip, or every rumour that rose of a projected movement.
I have seen a good deal of the world since that time, and I am bound
to confess, that not a few of the great reputations I have witnessed
have stood upon grounds very similar, and not a whit more stable than
my own. A bold face, a ready tongue, a promptness to support, with my
right hand, whatever my lips were pledged to, and, above all,
good-luck, made me the king of my company; and although that
sovereignty only extended to half a squadron of hussars, it was a whole
universe to me.
So stood matters when, on the 23rd of June, orders came for the
whole corps d'armée to hold itself in readiness for a forward
movement. Rations for two days were distributed, and ammunition given
out as if for an attack of some duration. Meanwhile, to obviate any
suspicion of our intentions, the gates of Strasbourg, on the eastern
side, were closedall egress in that direction forbiddenand couriers
and estafettes sent off towards the north, as if to provide for
the march of our force in that direction. The arrival of various
orderly dragoons during the previous night, and on that morning early,
told of a great attack in force on Mannheim, about sixty miles lower
down the Rhine, and the cannonade of which some avowed that they could
hear at that distance. The rumour, therefore, seemed confirmed, that we
were ordered to move to the north, to support this assault.
The secret despatch of a few dismounted dragoons and some riflemen
to the hanks of the Rhine, however, did not strike me as according with
this view, and particularly as I saw that, although all were equipped,
and in readiness to move, the order to march was not given, a delay
very unlikely to be incurred if we were destined to act as the reserve
of the force already engaged.
Directly opposite to us, on the right bank of the river, and
separated from it by a low flat of about two miles in extent, stood the
fortress of Kehl, at that time garrisoned by a strong Austrian force;
the banks of the river, and the wooded islands in the stream, which
communicated with the right by bridges, or fordable passes, being also
held by the enemy in force.
These we had often seen, by the aid of telescopes, from the towers
and spires of Strasbourg; and now I remarked that the general and his
staff seemed more than usually intent on observing their movements.
This fact, coupled with the not less significant one that no
preparations for a defence of Strasbourg were in progress, convinced me
that, instead of moving down the Rhine to the attack on Mannheim, the
plan of our general was to cross the river where we were, and make a
dash at the fortress of Kehl. I was soon to receive the confirmation of
my suspicion, as the orders came for two squadrons of the 9th to
proceed, dismounted, to the bank of the Rhine, and, under shelter of
the willows, to conceal themselves there. Taking possession of the
various skiffs and fishing-boats along the bank, we were distributed in
small parties, to one of which, consisting of eight men under the
orders of a corporal, I belonged.
About an hour's march brought us to the river-side, in a little
clump of alder willows, where, moored to a stake, lay a fishing-boat
with two short oars in her. Lying down beneath the shade, for the
afternoon was hot and sultry, some of us smoked, some chatted, and a
few dozed away the hours that somehow seemed unusually slow in passing.
There was a certain dogged sullenness about my companions, which
proceeded from their belief that we and all who remained at Strasbourg
were merely left to occupy the enemy's attention, while greater
operations were to be carried on elsewhere.
'You see what it is to be a condemned corps,' muttered one; 'it's
little matter what befalls the old 9th, even should they be cut to
pieces.'
'They didn't think so at Enghien,' said another, 'when we rode down
the Austrian cuirassiers.'
'Plain enough,' cried a third, 'we are to have skirmishers' duty
here, without skirmishers' fortune in having a force to fall back
upon.'
'Eh! Maurice, is not this very like what you predicted for us?'
broke in a fourth ironically.
'I'm of the same mind still,' rejoined I coolly: 'the general is not
thinking of a retreat; he has no intention of deserting a
well-garrisoned, well-provisioned fortress. Let the attack on Mannheim
have what success it may, Strasbourg will be held still. I overheard
Colonel Guyon remark that the waters of the Rhine have fallen three
feet since the drought set in, and Régnier replied 'that we must lose
no time, for there will come rain and floods ere long.' Now what could
that mean but the intention to cross over yonder?'
'Cross the Rhine in face of the fort of Kehl!' broke in the
corporal.
'The French army have done bolder things before now!' was my reply;
and, whatever the opinion of my comrades, the flattery ranged them on
my side. Perhaps the corporal felt it beneath his dignity to discuss
tactics with an inferior, or perhaps he felt unable to refute the
specious pretensions I advanced; in any case he turned away, and either
slept, or affected sleep, while I strenuously laboured to convince my
companions that my surmise was correct.
I repeated all my former arguments about the decrease in the Rhine,
showing that the river was scarcely two-thirds of its habitual breadth,
that the nights were now dark, and well suited for a surprise, that the
columns which issued from the town took their departure with a pomp and
parade far more likely to attract the enemy's attention than escape his
notice, and were, therefore, the more likely to be destined for some
secret expedition, of which all this display was but the blind. These,
and similar facts, I grouped together with a certain ingenuity, which,
if it failed to convince, at least silenced my opponents. And now the
brief twilight, if so short a struggle between day and darkness
deserved the name, passed off, and night suddenly closed around usa
night black and starless, for a heavy mass of lowering cloud seemed to
unite with the dense vapour that arose from the river, and the
low-lying grounds alongside of it. The air was hot and sultry, too,
like the precursor of a thunderstorm, and the rush of the stream as it
washed among the willows sounded preternaturally loud.
A hazy, indistinct flame, the watch-fire of the enemy, on the island
of Eslar, was the only object visible in the murky darkness. After a
while, however, we could detect another fire on a smaller island, a
short distance higher up the stream. This, at first dim and uncertain,
blazed up after a while, and at length we descried the dark shadows of
men as they stood around it.
It was but the day before that I had been looking on a map of the
Rhine, and remarked to myself that this small island, little more than
a mere rock in the stream, was so situated as to command the bridge
between Eslar and the German bank, and I could not help wondering that
the Austrians had never taken the precaution to strengthen it, or at
least place a gun there, to enfilade the bridge. Now, to my extreme
astonishment, I saw it occupied by the soldiery, who, doubtless, were
artillery, as in such a position small arms would prove of slight
efficiency. As I reflected over this, wondering within myself if any
intimation of our movements could have reached the enemy, I heard along
the ground on which I was lying the peculiar tremulous, dull sound
communicated by a large body of men marching. The measured tramp could
not be mistaken, and as I listened I could perceive that a force was
moving towards the river from different quarters. The rumbling roll of
heavy guns and the clattering noise of cavalry were also easily
distinguished, and awaking one of my comrades I called his attention to
the sounds.
'Parbleu!' said he, 'thou'rt right; they're going to make a
dash at the fortress, and there will be hot work ere morning. What say
you now, corporal? has Maurice hit it off this time?'
'That's as it may be,' growled the other sulkily; 'guessing is easy
work ever for such as thee! but if he be so clever, let him tell us why
are we stationed along the river's bank in small detachments. We have
had no orders to observe the enemy, nor to report upon anything that
might go forward; nor do I see with what object we were to secure the
fishing-boats; troops could never be conveyed across the Rhine in
skiffs like these!'
'I think that this order was given to prevent any of the fishermen
giving information to the enemy in case of a sudden attack,' replied I.
'Mayhap thou wert at the council of war when the plan was decided
on,' said he contemptuously. 'For a fellow that never saw the smoke of
an enemy's gun, thou hast a rare audacity in talking of war!'
'Yonder is the best answer to your taunt,' said I, as, in a little
bend of the stream beside us, two boats were seen to pull under the
shelter of the tall alders, from which the clank of arms could be
plainly heard; and now another larger launch swept past, the dark
shadows of a dense crowd of men showing above the gunwale.
'They are embarkingthey are certainly embarking,' now ran from
mouth to mouth. As the troops arrived at the river's bank they were
speedily 'told off' in separate divisions, of which some were to lead
the attack, others to follow, and a third portion to remain as a
reserve in the event of a repulse.
The leading boat was manned entirely by volunteers, and I could hear
from where I lay the names called aloud as the men stepped out from the
ranks. I could hear that the first point of attack was the island of
Eslar. So far there was a confirmation of my own guessing, and I did
not hesitate to assume the full credit of my skill from my comrades. In
truth, they willingly conceded all or even more than I asked for. Not a
stir was heard, not a sight seen, not a movement made of which I was
not expected to tell the cause and the import; and knowing that to
sustain my influence there was nothing for it but to affect a thorough
acquaintance with everything, I answered all their questions boldly and
unhesitatingly. I need scarcely observe that the corporal in comparison
sank into downright insignificance. He had already shown himself a
false guide, and none asked his opinion further, and I became the
ruling genius of the hour. The embarkation now went briskly forward;
several light field-guns were placed in the boats, and two or three
large rafts, capable of containing two companies each, were prepared to
be towed across by boats.
Exactly as the heavy hammer of the cathedral struck one, the first
boat emerged from the willows, and darting rapidly forward, headed for
the middle of the stream; another and another in quick succession
followed, and speedily were lost to us in the gloom; and now two
four-oared skiffs stood out together, having a raft, with two guns, in
tow; by some mischance, however, they got entangled in a side current,
and the raft swerving to one side, swept past the boats, carrying them
down the stream along with it. Our attention was not suffered to dwell
on this mishap, for at the same moment the flash and rattle of firearms
told us the battle had begun. Two or three isolated shots were first
heard, and then a sharp platoon-fire, accompanied by a wild cheer, that
we well knew came from our own fellows. One deep mellow boom of a large
gun resounded amidst the crash, and a slight streak of flame, higher up
the stream, showed that the shot came from the small island I have
already spoken of.
'Listen, lads,' said I; 'that came from the Fels Insel. If they
are firing grape yonder, our poor fellows in the boats will suffer
sorely from it. By Jove, there is a crash!'
As I was speaking, a rattling noise like the sound of clattering
timber was heard, and with it a sharp, shrill cry of agony, and all was
hushed.
'Let's at them, boys: they can't be much above our own number. The
island is a mere rock,' cried I to my comrades.
'Who commands this party,' said the corporal'you or I?'
'You, if you lead us against the enemy,' said I; 'but I'll take it
if my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, ladsyes or
nonow is the time to speak.'
'We're ready,' cried three, springing forward with one impulse.
At the instant I jumped into the skiff, the others took their
places, and then come a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh,
leaving the corporal alone on the bank.
'Come along, corporal,' cried I, 'we'll win your epaulettes for
you'; but he turned away without a word; and, not waiting further, I
pushed out the skiff, and sent her skimming down the stream.
'Pull steady, boys, and silently,' said I; 'we must gain the middle
of the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise.
Once beneath the trees, we'll give them a volley, and then the bayonet.
Remember, lads, no flinching; it's as well to die here as be shot by
old Régnier to-morrow.'
The conflict on the Eslar island was now, to all seeming, at its
height. The roll of musketry was incessant, and sheets of flame, from
time to time, streaked the darkness above the river.
'Stronger and together, boysonce morethere it iswe are in the
current now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines; see that the
priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusillade. Lie still
now, and wait for the word to fire.'
The spreading foliage of the nut-trees was rustling over our heads
as I spoke, and the sharp skiff, borne on the current, glided smoothly
on till her bow struck the rock. With high-beating hearts we clambered
up the little cliff, and, as we reached the top, beheld immediately
beneath us, in a slight dip of the ground, several figures around a
gun, which they were busy adjusting. I looked right and left to see
that my little party were all assembled, and without waiting for more,
gave the orderfire!
We were within pistol range, and the discharge was a deadly one. The
terror, however, was not less complete; for all who escaped death fled
from the spot, and dashing through the brushwood, made for the shallow
part of the stream, between the island and the right bank.
Our prize was a brass eight-pounder, and an ample supply of
ammunition. The gun was pointed towards the middle of the stream, where
the current being strongest, the boats would necessarily be delayed;
and in all likelihood some of our gallant comrades had already
experienced its fatal fire. To wheel it right about, and point it on
the Eslar bridge, was the work of a couple of minutes; and while three
of our little party kept up a steady fire on the retreating enemy, the
others loaded the gun and prepared to fire.
Our distance from the Eslar island and bridge, as well as I could
judge from the darkness, might be about two hundred and fifty yards,
and, as we had the advantage of a slight elevation of ground, our
position was admirable.
'Wait patiently, lads,' said I, restraining, with difficulty, the
burning ardour of my men. 'Wait patiently, till the retreat has
commenced over the bridge. The work is too hot to last much longer on
the island; to fire upon them there would be to risk our own men as
much as the enemy. See what long flashes of flame break forth among the
brushwood; and listen to the cheering now. That was a French
cheer!and there goes another. Look!look, the bridge is darkening
already! That was a bugle-call, and they are in full retreat. Now,
ladsnow!'
As I spoke, the gun exploded, and the instant after we heard the
crashing rattle of the timber, as the shot struck the bridge, and
splintered the wood-work in all directions.
'The range is perfect, lads,' cried I. 'Load and fire with all
speed.'
Another shot, followed by a terrific scream from the bridge, told
how the work was doing. Oh! the savage exultation, the fiendish joy of
my heart, as I drank in that cry of agony, and called upon my men to
load faster.
Six shots were poured in with tremendous precision and effect, and
the seventh tore away one of the main supports of the bridge, and down
went the densely crowded column into the Rhine. At the same instant the
guns of our launches opened a destructive fire upon the banks, which
soon were swept clean of the enemy.
High up on the stream, and for nearly a mile below also, we could
see the boats of our army pulling in for shore; the crossing of the
Rhine had been effected, and we now prepared to follow.
CHAPTER XII. 'A GLANCE AT
STAFF-DUTY'
Although the passage of the Rhine was but the prelude to the attack
on the fortress, that exploit being accomplished, Kehl was carried at
the point of the bayonet, the French troops entering the outworks
pell-mell with the retreating enemy, and in less than two hours after
the landing of our first detachments, the tricolour waved over the
walls of the fortress.
Lost amid the greater and more important successes which since that
time have immortalised the glory of the French arms, it is almost
impossible to credit the celebrity attached at that time to this
brilliant achievement, whose highest merits probably were rapidity and
resolution. Moreau had long been jealous of the fame of his great
rival, Bonaparte, whose tactics, rejecting the colder dictates of
prudent strategy, and the slow progress of scientific manouvres, seemed
to place all his confidence in the sudden inspirations of his genius,
and the indomitable bravery of his troops. It was necessary, then, to
raise the morale of the army of the Rhine, to accomplish some great
feat similar in boldness and heroism to the wonderful achievements of
the Italian army. Such was the passage of the Rhine at Strasbourg,
effected in the face of a great enemy, advantageously posted, and
supported by one of the strongest of all the frontier fortresses.
The morning broke upon us in all the exultation of our triumph, and
as our cheers rose high over the field of the late struggle, each heart
beat proudly with the thought of how that news would be received in
Paris.
'You 'll see how the bulletin will spoil all,' said a young officer
of the army of Italy, as he was getting his wound dressed on the field.
'There will be such a long narrative of irrelevant mattersuch details
of this, that, and t' otherthat the public will scarce know whether
the placard announces a defeat or a victory.'
'Parbleu!' replied an old veteran of the Rhine army, 'what
would you have? You'd not desire to omit the military facts of such an
exploit?'
'To be sure I would,' rejoined the other. 'Give me one of our young
general's bulletins, short, stirring, and effective:Soldiers! you
have crossed the Rhine against an army double your own in numbers and
munitions of war. You have carried a fortress, believed impregnable, at
the bayonet. Already the great flag of our nation waves over the
citadel you have won. Forward, then, and cease not till it floats over
the cities of conquered Germany, and let the name of France be that of
Empire over the continent of Europe.'
'Ha! I like that, cried I enthusiastically; 'that's the bulletin to
my fancy. Repeat it once more, mon lieutenant, that I may write it in
my note-book.'
'What! hast thou a note-book?' cried an old staff-officer, who was
preparing to mount his horse; 'let's see it, lad.'
With a burning cheek and trembling hand I drew my little journal
from the breast of my jacket, and gave it to him.
'Sacrebleu!' exclaimed he, in a burst of laughter, 'what have
we here? Why, this is a portrait of old General Moricier, and although
a caricature, a perfect likeness. And here comes a plan for manoeuvring
a squadron by threes from the left. This is betterit is a receipt for
an Omelette à la Hussard; and here we have a love-song, and a
moustache-paste, with some hints about devotion, and diseased frog in
horses. Most versatile genius, certainly!' And so he went on,
occasionally laughing at my rude sketches and ruder remarks, till he
came to a page headed 'Equitation, as practised by Officers of the
Staff,' and followed by a series of caricatures of bad riding, in all
its moods and tenses. The flush of anger which instantly coloured his
face soon attracted the notice of those about him, and one of the
bystanders quickly snatched the book from his fingers, and, in the
midst of a group all convulsed with laughter, proceeded to expatiate
upon my illustrations. To be sure, they were absurd enough. Some were
represented sketching on horseback, under shelter of an umbrella;
others were 'taking the depth of a stream' by a 'header' from their own
saddles; some again were 'exploring ground for an attack in line,' by a
measurement of the rider's own length over the head of his horse. Then
there were ridiculous situations, such as 'sitting down before a
fortress,' 'taking an angle of incidence,' and so on. Sorry jests all
of them, but sufficient to amuse those with whose daily associations
they chimed in, and to whom certain traits of portraiture gave all the
zest of a personality.
My shame at the exposure, and my terror for its consequences,
gradually yielded to a feeling of flattered vanity at the success of my
lucubrations; and I never remarked that the staff-officer had ridden
away from the group till I saw him galloping back at the top of his
speed.
'Is your name Tiernay, my good fellow?' cried he, riding close up to
my side, and with an expression on his features I did not half like.
'Yes, sir,' replied I.
'Hussar of the Ninth, I believe?' repeated he, reading from a paper
in his hand.
'The same, sir.'
'Well, your talents as a draughtsman have procured you promotion, my
friend; I have obtained your discharge from your regiment, and you are
now my orderlyorderly on the staff, do you mind; so mount, sir, and
follow me.'
I saluted him respectfully, and prepared to obey his orders. Already
I foresaw the downfall of all the hopes I had been cherishing, and
anticipated the life of tyranny and oppression that lay before me. It
was clear to me that my discharge had been obtained solely as a means
of punishing me, and that Captain Discau, as the officer was called,
had destined me to a pleasant expiation of my note-book The savage
exultation with which he watched me, as I made up my kit and saddled my
horsethe cool malice with which he handed me back the accursed
journal, the cause of all my disastersgave me a dark foreboding of
what was to follow; and as I mounted my saddle, my woeful face and
miserable look brought forth a perfect shout of laughter from the
bystanders.
Captain Discau's duty was to visit the banks of the Rhine and the
Eslar island, to take certain measurements of distances, and obtain
accurate information on various minute points respecting the late
engagement; for, while a brief announcement of the victory would
suffice for the bulletin, a detailed narrative of the event in all its
bearings must be drawn up for the minister of war, and for this latter
purpose various staff-officers were then employed in different parts of
the field.
As we issued from the fortress, and took our way over the plain, we
struck out into a sharp gallop; but as we drew near the river, our
passage became so obstructed by lines of baggage-waggons, tumbrils, and
ammunition-carts, that we were obliged to dismount and proceed on foot;
and now I was to see for the first time that dreadful picture which, on
the day after a battle, forms the reverse of the great medal of glory.
Huge litters of wounded men, on their way back to Strasbourg, were
drawn by six or eight horses, their jolting motion increasing the agony
of sufferings that found their vent in terrific cries and screams;
oaths, yells, and blasphemies, the ravings of madness, and the wild
shouts of infuriated suffering, filled the air on every side. As if to
give the force of contrast to this uproar of misery, two regiments of
Swabian infantry marched past as prisoners. Silent, crest-fallen, and
wretched-looking, they never raised their eyes from the ground, but
moved, or halted, wheeled, or stood at ease, as though by some impulse
of mechanism; a cord coupled the wrists of the outer files one with
another, which struck me less as a measure of security against escape,
than as a mark of indignity.
Carts and charrettes with wounded officers, in which oftentimes the
uniform of the enemy appeared side by side with our own, followed in
long procession; and thus were these two great currentsthe one
hurrying forward, ardent, high-hearted, and enthusiastic; the other
returning maimed, shattered, and dying!
It was an affecting scene to see the hurried gestures, and hear the
few words of adieu, as they passed each other. Old comrades who were
never to meet again, parted with a little motion of the hand; sometimes
a mere look was all their leave-taking, save when, now and then, a halt
would for a few seconds bring the lines together, and then many a
bronzed and rugged cheek was pressed upon the faces of the dying, and
many a tear fell from eyes bloodshot with the fury of the battle!
Wending our way on foot slowly along, we at last reached the
river-side, and having secured a small skiff, made for the Eslar
islandour first business being to ascertain some details respecting
the intrenchments there, and the depth and strength of the stream
between it and the left bank. Discau, who was a distinguished officer,
rapidly possessed himself of the principal facts he wanted, and then,
having given me his portfolio, he seated himself under the shelter of a
broken waggon, and opening a napkin, began his breakfast off a portion
of a chicken and some bread-viands which, I own, more than once made my
lips water as I watched him.
'You've eaten nothing to-day, Tiernay?' asked he, as he wiped his
lips with the air of a man that feels satisfied.
'Nothing, mon capitaine? replied I.
'That's bad,' said he, shaking his head; 'a soldier cannot do his
duty if his rations be neglected. I have always maintained the
principle: Look to the men's necessariestake care of their food and
clothing. Is there anything on that bone there?'
'Nothing, mon capitaine.'
'I'm sorry for itI meant it for you. Put up that bread, and the
remainder of that flask of wine. Bourdeaux is not to be had every day.
We shall want it for supper, Tiernay.'
I did as I was bid, wondering not a little why he said 'we,' seeing
how little a share I occupied in the copartnery.
'Always be careful of the morrow on a campaign, Tiernayno
squandering, no waste; that's one of my principles,' said he gravely,
as he watched me while I tied up the bread and wine in the napkin.
'You'll soon see the advantage of serving under an old soldier.'
I confess the great benefit had not already struck me, but I held my
peace and waited; meanwhile he continued
'I have studied my profession from my boyhood, and one thing I have
acquired that all experience has confirmedthe knowledge that men must
neither be taxed beyond their ability nor their endurance. A French
soldier, after all, is human; eh, is't not so?'
'I feel it most profoundly, mon capitaine,' replied I, with
my hand on my empty stomach.
'Just so,' rejoined he; 'every man of sense and discretion must
confess it. Happily for you, too, I know it; ay, Tiernay I know it, and
practise it. When a young fellow has acquitted himself to my
satisfaction during the daynot that I mean to say that the
performance has not its fair share of activity and zealwhen evening
comes and stable duty finished, arms burnished, and accoutrements
cleaned, what do you think I say to him?eh, Tiernayjust guess now?'
'Probably, sir, you tell him he is free to spend an hour at the
canteen, or take his sweetheart to the theatre.'
'What! more fatigue! more exhaustion to an already tired and
worn-out nature!'
'I ask pardon, sir, I see I was wrong; but I had forgotten how
thoroughly the poor fellow was done up. I now see that you told him to
go to bed.'
'To bed! to bed! Is it that he might writhe in the nightmare, or
suffer agony from cramps? To bed after fatigue like this! No, no,
Tiernay; that was not the school in which I was brought up; we were
taught to think of the men under our command; to remember that they had
wants, sympathies, hopes, fears, and emotions like our own. I tell him
to seat himself at the table, and with pen, ink, and paper before him,
to write up the blanks. I see you don't quite understand me, Tiernay,
as to the meaning of the phrase, but I'll let you into the secret. You
have been kind enough to give me a peep at your note-book, and you
shall in return have a look at mine. Open that volume, and tell me what
you find in it.'
I obeyed the direction, and read at the top of a page the words,
'Skeleton, 5th Prarial,' in large characters, followed by several
isolated words, denoting the strength of a brigade, the number of guns
in a battery, the depth of a fosse, the height of a parapet, and such
like. These were usually followed by a flourish of the pen, or
sometimes by the word 'Bom.,' which singular monosyllable always
occurred at the foot of the pages.
'Well, have you caught the key to the cipher?' said he, after a
pause.
'Not quite, sir,' said I, pondering; 'I can perceive that the chief
facts stand prominently forward, in a fair round hand; I can also guess
that the flourishes may be spaces left for detail; but this word Bom.
puzzles me completely.'
'Quite correct, as to the first part,' said he approvingly; 'and as
to the mysterious monosyllable, it is nothing more than an abbreviation
for Bombaste, which is always to be done to the taste of each
particular commanding officer.'
'I perceive, sir,' said I quickly; 'like the wadding of a gun, which
may increase the loudness, but never affect the strength of the shot.'
'Precisely, Tiernay; you have hit it exactly. Now I hope that, with
a little practice, you may be able to acquit yourself respectably in
this walk; and now to begin our skeleton. Turn over to a fresh page,
and write as I dictate to you.'
So saying, he filled his pipe and lighted it, and disposing his
limbs in an attitude of perfect ease, he began:
'8th Thermidor, midnighttwelve battalions, and two batteries of
fieldboats and raftsEslar Islandstockadeseight gunsSwabian
infantrysharp firing, and a flourishstrong
currentflourishdetachment of the 28th carried down'Bom.
'Let me see it nowall rightnothing could be betterproceed.
The 10th, 45th, and 48th landing togethermore
firingflourishfirst gun capturedBom.bayonet chargesBom.
Bom.three guns takenBom. Bom. Bom.Swabs in retreatflourish. The
bridge eighty toises in length flanking fireheavy lossflourish.'
'You go a little too fast, mon capitaine,' said I, for a
sudden bright thought just flashed across me.
'Very well,' said he, shaking the ashes of his pipe out upon the
rock, 'I'll take my doze, and you may awaken me when you've filled in
those detailsit will be a very fair exercise for you'; and with this
he threw his handkerchief over his face, and without any other
preparation was soon fast asleep.
I own that, if I had not been a spectator of the action, it would
have been very difficult, if not impossible, for me to draw up anything
like a narrative of it from the meagre details of the captain's
note-book. My personal observations, however, assisted by an easy
imagination, suggested quite enough to make at least a plausible story,
and I wrote away without impediment and halt till I came to that part
of the action in which the retreat over the bridge commenced. There I
stopped. Was I to remain satisfied with such a crude and one-sided
explanation as the notebook afforded, and merely say that the
retreating forces were harassed by a strong flank fire from our
batteries? Was I to omit the whole of the great incident, the
occupation of the 'Fels Insel,' and the damaging discharges of grape
and round shot which plunged through the crowded ranks, and ultimately
destroyed the bridge? Could Ito use the phrase so popularcould I,
in the 'interests of truth,' forget the brilliant achievement of a
gallant band of heroes who, led on by a young hussar of the 9th, threw
themselves into the 'Fels Insel,' routed the garrison, captured the
artillery, and directing its fire upon the retiring enemy, contributed
most essentially to the victory. Ought I, in a word, to suffer a name
so associated with a glorious action to sink into oblivion? Should
Maurice Tiernay be lost to fame out of any neglect or false shame on my
part? Forbid it all truth and justice! cried I, as I set myself down to
relate the whole adventure most circumstantially. Looking up from time
to time at my officer, who slept soundly, I suffered myself to dilate
upon a theme in which somehow I felt a more than ordinary degree of
interest. The more I dwelt upon the incident, the more brilliant and
striking did it seem like the appetite, which the proverb tells us
comes by eating, my enthusiasm grew under indulgence, so that, had a
little more time been granted me, I verily believe I should have
forgotten Moreau altogether, and coupled only Maurice Tiernay with the
passage of the Rhine, and the capture of the fortress of Kehl.
Fortunately, Captain Discau awoke, and cut short my historic
recollections by asking me how much I had done, and telling me to read
it aloud to him.
I accordingly began to read my narrative slowly and deliberately,
thereby giving myself time to think what I should best do when I came
to that part which became purely personal To omit it altogether would
have been dangerous, as the slightest glance at the mass of writing
would have shown the deception. There was, then, nothing left, but to
invent at the moment another version, in which Maurice Tiernay never
occurred, and the incident of the 'Fels Insel' should figure as
unobtrusively as possible. I was always a better improvisatore than
amanuensis; so that without a moment's loss of time I fashioned a new
and very different narrative, and detailing the battle tolerably
accurately, minus the share my own heroism had taken in it. The captain
made a few, a very few corrections of my style, in which the 'flourish'
and 'bom.' figured, perhaps, too conspicuously; and then told me
frankly, that once upon a time he had been fool enough to give himself
great trouble in framing these kind of reports, but that having served
for a short period in the 'bureau' of the minister of war, he had
learned better'In fact,' said he, 'a district report is never read!
Some hundreds of them reach the office of the minister every day, and
are safely deposited in the archives of the department. They have
all, besides, such a family resemblance, that with a few changes in the
name of the commanding officer, any battle in the Netherlands would do
equally well for one fought beyond the Alps! Since I became acquainted
with this fact, Tiernay, I have bestowed less pains upon the matter,
and usually deputed the task to some smart orderly of the staff.'
So, thought I, I have been writing history for nothing; and Maurice
Tiernay, the real hero of the passage of the Rhine, will be unrecorded
and unremembered, just for want of one honest and impartial scribe to
transmit his name to posterity. The reflection was not a very
encouraging one; nor did it serve to lighten the toil in which I passed
many weary hours, copying out my own precious manuscript. Again and
again during that night did I wonder at my own diffusenessagain and
again did I curse the prolix accuracy of a description that cost such
labour to reiterate. It was like a species of poetical justice on me
for my own amplifications; and when the day broke, and I still sat at
my table writing on, at the third copy of this precious document, I
vowed a vow of brevity, should I ever survive to indite similar
compositions.
CHAPTER XIII. A FAREWELL LETTER
It was in something less than a week after that I entered upon my
new career as orderly in the staff, when I began to believe myself the
most miserable of all human beings. On the saddle at sunrise, I never
dismounted, except to carry a measuring chain, 'to step distances,'
mark out intrenchments, and then write away, for hours, long enormous
reports, that were to be models of caligraphy, neatness and
eleganceand never to be read. Nothing could be less like soldiering
than the life I led; and were it not for the clanking sabre I wore at
my side, and the jingling spurs that decorated my heels, I might have
fancied myself a notary's clerk. It was part of General Moreau's plan
to strengthen the defences of Kehl before he advanced farther into
Germany; and to this end repairs were begun upon a line of earthworks,
about two leagues to the northward of the fortress, at a small village
called 'Ekheim.' In this miserable little hole, one of the dreariest
spots imaginable, we were quartered, with two companies of sapeurs and
some of the waggon-train, trenching, digging, carting earth, sinking
wells, and in fact engaged in every kind of labour save that which
seemed to be characteristic of a soldier.
I used to think that Nancy and the riding-school were the most
dreary and tiresome of all destinies, but they were enjoyments and
delight compared with this. Now it very often happens in life that when
a man grows discontented and dissatisfied with mere monotony, when he
chafes at the sameness of a tiresome and unexciting existence, he is
rapidly approaching to some critical or eventful point, where actual
peril and real danger assail him, and from which he would willingly buy
his escape by falling back upon that wearisome and plodding life he had
so often deplored before. This case was my own. Just as I had convinced
myself that I was exceedingly wretched and miserable, I was to know
there are worse things in this world than a life of mere uniform
stupidity. I was waiting outside my captain's door for orders one
morning, when at the tinkle of his little hand-bell I entered the room
where he sat at breakfast, with an open despatch before him.
'Tiernay,' said he, in his usual quiet tone, 'here is an order from
the adjutant-general to send you back under an escort to headquarters.
Are you aware of any reason for it, or is there any charge against you
which warrants this?'
'Not to my knowledge, mon capitaine,' said I, trembling with
fright, for I well knew with what severity discipline was exercised in
that army, and how any, even the slightest, infractions met the
heaviest penalties.
'I have never known you to pillage,' continued he, 'have never seen
you drink, nor have you been disobedient while under my command; yet
this order could not be issued on light grounds; there must be some
grave accusation against you, and in any case you must go; therefore
arrange all my papers, put everything to rights, and be ready to return
with the orderly.'
'You'll give me a good character, mon capitaine,' said I,
trembling more than ever'you'll say what you can for me, I'm sure.'
'Willingly, if the general or chief were here,' replied he; 'but
that's not so. General Moreau is at Strasbourg. It is General Régnier
that is in command of the army, and unless specially applied to, I
could not venture upon the liberty of obtruding my opinion upon him.'
'Is he so severe, sir?' asked I timidly.
'The general is a good disciplinarian,' said he cautiously, while he
motioned with his hand towards the door, and accepting the hint, I
retired.
It was evening when I re-entered Kehl, under an escort of two of my
own regiment, and was conducted to the 'Salle de Police.' At the door
stood my old corporal, whose malicious grin, as I alighted, revealed
the whole story of my arrest; and I now knew the charge that would be
preferred against mea heavier there could not be madewas,
'disobedience in the field.' I slept very little that night, and when I
did close my eyes, it was to awake with a sudden start, and believe
myself in presence of the court-martial, or listening to my sentence,
as read out by the president. Towards day, however, I sank into a
heavy, deep slumber, from which I was aroused by the reveille of the
barracks.
I had barely time to dress when I was summoned before the 'Tribunale
Militaire'a sort of permanent court-martial, whose sittings were held
in one of the churches of the town. Not even all the terror of my own
precarious position could overcome the effect of old prejudices in my
mind, as I saw myself led up the dim aisle of the church towards the
altar rails, within which, around a large table, were seated a number
of officers, whose manner and bearing evinced but little reverence for
the sacred character of the spot.
Stationed in a group of poor wretches whose wan looks and anxious
glances told that they were prisoners like myself, I had time to see
what was going forward around me. The president, who alone wore his
hat, read from a sort of list before him the name of a prisoner and
that of the witnesses in the cause. In an instant they were all drawn
up and sworn. A few questions followed, rapidly put, and almost as
rapidly replied to. The prisoner was called on then for his defence: if
this occupied many minutes, he was sure to be interrupted by an order
to be brief. Then came the command to 'stand by'; and after a few
seconds' consultation together, in which many times a burst of laughter
might be heard, the Court agreed upon the sentence, recorded and signed
it, and then proceeded with the next case.
If nothing in the procedure imposed reverence or respect, there was
that in the despatch which suggested terror, for it was plain to see
that the Court thought more of the cost of their own precious minutes
than of the years of those on whose fate they were deciding. I was
sufficiently near to hear the charges of those who were arraigned, and,
for the greater number, they were all alike. Pillage, in one form or
another, was the universal offending, and from the burning of a
peasant's cottage, to the theft of his dog or his poulet, all
came under this head. At last came number 82'Maurice Tiernay, hussar
of the Ninth.' I stepped forward to the rails.
'Maurice Tiernay,' read the president hurriedly, 'accused by Louis
Gaussin, corporal of the same regiment, of wilfully deserting his post
while on duty in the field, and in the face of direct orders to the
contrary, inducing others to a similar breach of discipline. Make the
charge, Gaussin.'
The corporal stepped forward, and began
'We were stationed in detachment on the bank of the Rhine, on the
evening of the 23rd'
'The Court has too many duties to lose its time for nothing,'
interrupted I. 'It is all true. I did desert my post, I did disobey
orders; and, seeing a weak point in the enemy's line, attacked and
carried it with success. The charge is, therefore, admitted by me, and
it only remains for the Court to decide how far a soldier's zeal for
his country may be deserving of punishment. Whatever the result, one
thing is perfectly clear, Corporal Gaussin will never be indicted for a
similar misdemeanour.'
A murmur of voices and suppressed laughter followed this impertinent
and not over-discreet sally of mine, and the president, calling out,
'Proven by acknowledgment,' told me to 'stand by.' I now fell back to
my former place, to be interrogated by my comrades on the result of my
examination, and hear their exclamations of surprise and terror at the
rashness of my conduct. A little reflection of the circumstances would
probably have brought me over to their opinion, and shown me that I had
gratuitously thrown away an opportunity of self-defence; but my temper
could not brook the indignity of listening to the tiresome accusation
and the stupid malevolence of the corporal, whose hatred was excited by
the influence I wielded over my comrades.
It was long past noon ere the proceedings terminated, for the list
was a full one, and at length the Court rose, apparently not sorry to
exchange their tiresome duties for the pleasant offices of the
dinner-table. No sentences had been pronounced, but one very striking
incident seemed to shadow forth a gloomy future. Three, of whom I was
one, were marched off, doubly guarded, before the rest, and confined in
separate cells of the 'Salle,' where every precaution against escape
too plainly showed the importance attached to our safe keeping.
At about eight o'clock, as I was sitting on my bedif that inclined
plane of wood, worn by the form of many a former prisoner, could
deserve the namea sergeant entered with the prison allowance of bread
and water. He placed it beside me without speaking, and stood for a few
seconds gazing at me.
'What age art thou, lad?' said he, in a voice of compassionate
interest.
'Something over fifteen, I believe,' replied I.
'Hast father and mother?'
'Both are dead!'
'Uncles or aunts living?'
'Neither.'
'Hast any friends who could help thee?'
'That might depend on what the occasion for help should prove, for I
have one friend in the world.'
'Who is he?'
'Colonel Mahon, of the Cuirassiers.'
'I never heard of himis he here?'
'No, I left him at Nancy; but I could write to him.'
'It would be too late, much too late.'
'How do you meantoo late?' asked I tremblingly.
'Because it is fixed for to-morrow evening,' replied he in a low,
hesitating voice.
'What? thethe' I could not say the word, but merely imitated
the motion of presenting and firing. He nodded gravely in acquiescence.
'What hour is it to take place?' asked I.
'After evening parade. The sentence must be signed by General
Berthier, and he will not be here before that time.'
'It would be too late then, sergeant,' said I, musing, 'far too
late. Still I should like to write the letter; I should like to thank
him for his kindness in the past, and show him, too, that I have not
been either unworthy or ungrateful. Could you let me have paper and
pen, sergeant?'
'I can venture so far, lad; but I cannot let thee have a light, it
is against orders; and during the day, thou 'll be too strictly
watched.*
'No matter; let me have the paper, and I'll try to scratch a few
lines in the dark; and thou 'lt post it for me, sergeant? I ask thee as
a last favour to do this.'
'I promise it,' said he, laying his hand on my shoulder. After
standing for a few minutes thus in silence, he started suddenly and
left the cell.
I now tried to eat my supper, but although resolved on behaving with
a stout and unflinching courage throughout the whole sad event, I could
not swallow a mouthful. A sense of choking stopped me at every attempt,
and even the water I could only get down by gulps. The efforts I made
to bear up seemed to have caused a species of hysterical excitement
that actually rose to the height of intoxication, for I talked away
loudly to myself, laughed and sung. I even jested and mocked myself on
this sudden termination of a career that I used to anticipate as stored
with future fame and rewards. At intervals, I have no doubt that my
mind wandered far beyond the control of reason, but as constantly came
back again to a full consciousness of my melancholy position, and the
fate that awaited me. The noise of the key in the door silenced my
ravings, and I sat motionless as the sergeant entered with the pen,
ink, and paper, which he laid down upon the bed, and then as silently
withdrew.
A long interval of stupor, a state of dreary half consciousness, now
came over me, from which I aroused myself with great difficulty to
write the few lines I destined for Colonel Mahon. I remember even now,
long as has been the space of years since that event, full as it has
been of stirring and strange incidents, I remember perfectly the
thought which flashed across me, as I sat, pen in hand, before the
paper. It was the notion of a certain resemblance between our actions
in this world with the characters I was about to inscribe upon that
paper. Written in darkness and in doubt, thought I, how shall they
appear when brought to the light! Perhaps those I have deemed the best
and fairest shall seem but to be the weakest or the worst! What need of
kindness to forgive the errors, and of patience to endure the
ignorance! At last I began: 'Mon Colonel,Forgive, I pray you, the
errors of these lines, penned in the darkness of my cell, and the night
before my death. They are written to thank you ere I go hence, and to
tell you that the poor heart whose beating will soon be still, throbbed
gratefully towards you to the last! I have been sentenced to death for
a breach of discipline of which I was guilty. Had I failed in the
achievement of my enterprise by the bullet of an enemy, they would have
named me with honour; but I have had the misfortune of success, and
to-morrow am I to pay its penalty. I have the satisfaction, however, of
knowing that my share in that great day can neither be denied nor
evaded; it is already on record, and the time may yet come when my
memory will be vindicated. I know not if these lines be legible, nor if
I have crossed or recrossed them. If they are blotted they are not my
tears have done it, for I have a firm heart and a good courage; and
when the moment comes' Here my hand trembled so much, and my brain
grew so dizzy, that I lost the thread of my meaning, and merely jotted
down at random a few words, vague, unconnected, and unintelligible,
after which, and by an effort that cost all my strength, I wrote
'Maurice Tiernay, late Hussar of the 9th Regiment.'
A hearty burst of tears followed the conclusion of this letter; all
the pent-up emotion with which my heart was charged broke out at last,
and I cried bitterly. Intense passions are, happily, never of long
duration, and, better still, they are always the precursors of calm.
Thus, tranquil, the dawn of morn broke upon me, when the sergeant came
to take my letter, and apprise me that the adjutant would appear in a
few moments to read my sentence, and inform me when it was to be
executed.
'Thou'It bear up well, lad; I know thou wilt,' said the poor fellow,
with tears in his eyes. 'Thou hast no mother, and thou 'lt not have to
grieve for her.'
'Don't be afraid, sergeant; I'll not disgrace the old 9th. Tell my
comrades I said so.'
'I will. I will tell them all! Is this thy jacket, lad?'
'Yes; what do you want it for?'
'I must take it away with me. Thou art not to wear it more?'
'Not wear it, nor die in it! and why not?'
'That is the sentence, lad; I cannot help it. It's very hard, very
cruel; but so it is.'
'Then I am to die dishonoured, sergeant; is that the sentence?'
He dropped his head, and I could see that he moved his sleeve across
his eyes; and then, taking up my jacket, he came towards me.
'Remember, lad, a stout heart; no flinching. AdieuGod bless thee.'
He kissed me on either cheek, and went out.
He had not been gone many minutes, when the tramp of marching
outside apprised me of the coming of the adjutant, and the door of my
cell being thrown open, I was ordered to walk forth into the court of
the prison. Two squadrons of my own regiment, all who were not on duty,
were drawn up, dismounted, and without arms; beside them stood a
company of grenadiers and a half battalion of the line, the corps to
which the other two prisoners belonged, and who now came forward, in
shirtsleeves like myself, into the middle of the court.
One of my fellow-sufferers was a very old soldier, whose hair and
beard were white as snow; the other was a middle-aged man, of a dark
and forbidding aspect, who scowled at me angrily as I came up to his
side, and seemed as if he scorned the companionship. I returned a
glance, haughty and as full of defiance as his own, and never noticed
him after.
The drum beat a roll, and the word was given for silence in the
ranksan order so strictly obeyed, that even the clash of a weapon was
unheard, and, stepping in front of the line, the Auditeur Militaire
read out the sentences. As for me, I heard but the words 'Peine
afflictive et infamante'; all the rest became confusion, shame, and
terror commingled; nor did I know that the ceremonial was over when the
troops began to defile, and we were marched back again to our prison
quarters.
CHAPTER XIV. A SURPRISE AND AN
ESCAPE
It is a very common subject of remark in newspapers, and as
invariably repeated with astonishment by the readers, how well and
soundly such a criminal slept on the night before his execution. It
reads like a wonderful evidence of composure, or some not less
surprising proof of apathy or indifference. I really believe it has as
little relation to one feeling as to the other, and is simply the
natural consequence of faculties overstrained, and a brain surcharged
with blood; sleep being induced by causes purely physical in their
nature. For myself, I can say that I was by no means indifferent to
life, nor had I any contempt for the form of death that awaited me. As
localities which have failed to inspire a strong attachment become
endowed with a certain degree of interest when we are about to part
from them for ever, I never held life so desirable as now that I was
going to leave it; and yet, with all this, I fell into a sleep so heavy
and profound, that I never awoke till late in the evening. Twice was I
shaken by the shoulder ere I could throw off the heavy weight of
slumber; and even when I looked up, and saw the armed figures around
me, I could have lain down once more and composed myself to another
sleep.
The first thing which thoroughly aroused me, and at once brightened
up my slumbering senses, was missing my jacket, for which I searched
every corner of my cell, forgetting that it had been taken away, as the
nature of my sentence was declared infamante. The next shock was
still greater, when two sapeurs came forward to tie my wrists together
behind my back; I neither spoke nor resisted, but in silent submission
complied with each order given me.
All preliminaries being completed, I was led forward, preceded by a
pioneer, and guarded on either side by two sapeurs of 'the guard'; a
muffled drum, ten paces in advance, keeping up a low monotonous rumble
as we went.
Our way led along the ramparts, beside which ran a row of little
gardens, in which the children of the officers were at play. They
ceased their childish gambols as we drew near, and came closer up to
watch us. I could mark the terror and pity in their little faces as
they gazed at me; I could see the traits of compassion with which they
pointed me out to each other, and my heart swelled with gratitude for
even so slight a sympathy. It was with difficulty I could restrain the
emotion of that moment, but with a great effort I did subdue it, and
marched on, to all seeming, unmoved. A little farther on, as we turned
the angle of the wall, I looked back to catch one last look at them.
Would that I had never done so! They had quitted the railings, and were
now standing in a group, in the act of performing a mimic execution.
One, without his jacket, was kneeling on the grass. But I could not
bear the sight, and in scornful anger I closed my eyes, and saw no
more.
A low whispering conversation was kept up by the soldiers around me.
They were grumbling at the long distance they had to march, as the
'affair' might just as well have taken place on the glacis as two miles
away. How different were my feelingshow dear to me was now every
minute, every second of existence; how my heart leaped at each turn of
the way, as I still saw a space to traverse and some little interval
longer to live!
'And mayhap after all,' muttered one dark-faced fellow, 'we shall
have come all this way for nothing. There can be no fusillade without
the general's signature, so I heard the adjutant say; and who's to
promise that he 'll be at his quarters?'
'Very true,' said another; 'he may be absent, or at table.'
'At table!' cried two or three together; 'and what if he were?'
'If he be,' rejoined the former speaker, 'we may go back again for
our pains! I ought to know him well; I was his orderly for eight
months, when I served in the Légers, and can tell you, my lads, I
wouldn't be the officer who would bring him a report or a return to
sign when once he had opened out his napkin on his knee; and it's not
very far from his dinner-hour now.'
What a sudden thrill of hope ran through me! Perhaps I should be
spared for another day.
'No, no we're all in time,' exclaimed the sergeant; 'I can see the
general's tent from this; and there he stands, with all his staff
around him.'
'Yes; and there go the other escortsthey will be up before us if
we don't make haste; quick-time, lads. Come along, mon cher,'
said he, addressing me'thou'rt not tired, I hope?'
'Not tired!' replied I; 'but remember, sergeant, what a long journey
I have before me.'
'Pardi! I don't believe all that rhodomontade about another
world,' said he gruffly; 'the Republic settled that question.'
I made no reply, for such words, at such a moment, were the most
terrible of tortures to me. And now we moved on at a brisker pace, and
crossing a little wooden bridge, entered a kind of esplanade of closely
shaven turf, at one corner of which stood the capacious tent of the
Commander-in-chief, for such, in Moreau's absence, was General
Berthier. Numbers of staff-officers were riding about on duty, and a
large travelling-carriage, from which the horses seemed recently
detached, stood before the tent.
We halted as we crossed the bridge, while the adjutant advanced to
obtain the signature to the sentence. My eyes followed him till they
swam with rising tears, and I could not wipe them away, as my hands
were fettered. How rapidly did my thoughts travel during those few
moments. The good old Père Michel came back to me in memory, and I
tried to think of the consolation his presence would have afforded me;
but I could do no more than think of them.
'Which is the prisoner Tiernay?' cried a young aide-decamp,
cantering up to where I was standing.
'Here, sir,' replied the sergeant, pushing me forward.
'So,' rejoined the officer angrily, 'this fellow has been writing
letters, it would seem, reflecting upon the justice of his sentence,
and arraigning the conduct of his judges. Your epistolary tastes are
like to cost you dearly, my lad; it had been better for you if writing
had been omitted in your education. Reconduct the others, sergeant,
they are respited; this fellow alone is to undergo his sentence.'
The other two prisoners gave a short and simultaneous cry of joy as
they fell back, and I stood alone in front of the escort.
'Parbleu! he has forgotten the signature,' said the adjutant,
casting his eye over the paper: 'he was chattering and laughing all the
time, with the pen in his hand, and I suppose fancied that he had
signed it.'
'Nathalie was there, perhaps,' said the aide-de-camp significantly.
'She was, and I never saw her looking better. It's something like
eight years since I saw her last; and I vow she seems not only
handsomer but fresher, and more youthful, to-day than then.'
'Where is she going?have you heard?'
'Who can tell? Her passport is like a firmanshe may travel where
she pleases. The rumour of the day says Italy.'
'I thought she looked provoked at Moreau's absence; it seemed like
want of attention on his part, a lack of courtesy she's not used to.'
'Very true; and her reception of Berthier was anything but gracious,
although he certainly displayed all his civilities in her behalf.'
'Strange days we live in!' sighed the other; 'when a man's promotion
hangs upon the favourable word of a'
'Hush!take care!be cautious!' whispered the other. 'Let us not
forget this poor fellow's business. How are you to settle it? Is the
signature of any consequence? The whole sentence is all right and
regular.'
'I shouldn't like to omit the signature,' said the other cautiously;
'it looks like carelessness, and might involve us in trouble
hereafter.'
'Then we must wait some time, for I see they are gone to dinner.'
'So I perceive,' replied the former, as he lighted his cigar, and
seated himself on a bank. 'You may let the prisoner sit down, sergeant,
and leave his hands free; he looks wearied and exhausted.'
I was too weak to speak, but I looked my gratitude; and sitting down
upon the grass, covered my face and wept heartily.
Although quite close to where the officers sat together chatting and
jesting, I heard little or nothing of what they said. Already the
things of life had ceased to have any hold upon me; and I could have
heard of the greatest victory, or listened to a story of the most fatal
defeat, without the slightest interest or emotion. An occasional word
or a name would strike upon my ear, but leave no impression nor any
memory behind it.
The military band was performing various marches and opera airs
before the tent where the general dined, and in the melody, softened by
distance, I felt a kind of calm and sleepy repose that lulled me into a
species of ecstasy.
At last the music ceased to play, and the adjutant, starting
hurriedly up, called on the sergeant to move forward.
'By Jove!' cried he, 'they seem preparing for a promenade, and we
shall get into a scrape if Berthier sees us here. Keep your party
yonder, sergeant, out of sight, till I obtain the signature.'
And so saying, away he went towards the tent at a sharp gallop.
A few seconds, and I watched him crossing the esplanade; he
dismounted and disappeared. A terrible choking sensation was over me,
and I scarcely was conscious that they were again tying my hands. The
adjutant came out again, and made a sign with his sword.
'We are to move on!' said the sergeant, half in doubt.
'Not at all,' broke in the aide-de-camp; 'he is making a sign for
you to bring up the prisoner! There, he is repeating the signallead
him forward.'
I knew very little of howless still of whybut we moved on in the
direction of the tent, and in a few minutes stood before it. The sounds
of revelry and laughterthe hum of voices, and the clink of
glasses-together with the hoarse bray of a brass band, which again
struck upall were commingled in my brain, as, taking me by the arm, I
was led forward within the tent, and found myself at the foot of a
table covered with all the gorgeousness of silver plate, and glowing
with bouquets of flowers and fruits. In the one hasty glance I gave,
before my lids fell over my swimming eyes, I could see the splendid
uniforms of the guests as they sat around the board, and the
magnificent costume of a lady in the place of honour next the head.
Several of those who sat at the lower end of the table drew back
their seats as I came forward, and seemed as if desirous to give the
general a better view of me.
Overwhelmed by the misery of my fate, as I stood awaiting my death,
I felt as though a mere word, a look, would have crushed me but one
moment back; but now, as I stood there before that group of gazers,
whose eyes scanned me with looks of insolent disdain, or still more
insulting curiosity, a sense of proud defiance seized me, to confront
and dare them with glances haughty and scornful as their own. It seemed
to me so base and unworthy a part to summon a poor wretch before them,
as if to whet their new appetite for enjoyment by the aspect of his
misery, that an indignant anger took possession of me, and I drew
myself up to my full height, and stared at them calm and steadily.
'So, then!' cried a deep soldierlike voice from the far end of the
table, which I at once recognised as the general-in-chief s'so, then,
gentlemen, we have now the honour of seeing amongst us the hero of the
Rhine! This is the distinguished individual by whose prowess the
passage of the river was effected, and the Swabian infantry cut off in
their retreat! Is it not true, sir?' said he, addressing me with a
savage scowl.
'I have had my share in the achievement,' said I, with the cool air
of defiance.
'Parbleu! you are modest, sir. So had every drummer-boy that
beat his tattoo! But yours was the part of a great leader, if I err
not?'
I made no answer, but stood firm and unmoved.
'How do you call the island which you have immortalised by your
valour?'
'The Fels Insel, sir.'
[Illustration: 190]
'Gentlemen, let us drink to the hero of the Fels Insel,' said he,
holding up his glass for the servant to fill it. 'A bumpera full, a
flowing bumper! And let him also pledge a toast in which his interest
must be so brief. Give him a glass, Contard.'
The order was obeyed in a second; and I, summoning up all my courage
to seem as easy and indifferent as they were, lifted the glass to my
lips, and drained it off.
'Another glass now to the health of this fair lady, through whose
intercession we owe the pleasure of your company,' said the general.
'Willingly,' said I; 'and may one so beautiful seldom find herself
in a society so unworthy of her!'
A perfect roar of laughter succeeded the insolence of this speech;
amid which I was half pushed, half dragged, up to the end of the table
where the general sat.
'How so, coquin; do you dare to insult a French general at
the head of his own staff!'
'If I did, sir, it were quite as brave as to mock a poor criminal on
his way to his execution!'
'That is the boy!I know him now!the very same lad!' cried the
lady, as, stooping behind Berthier's chair, she stretched out her hand
towards me. 'Come here; are you not Colonel Mahon's godson?'
I looked her full in the face; and whether her own thoughts gave the
impulse, or that something in my stare suggested it, she blushed till
her cheeks grew crimson.
'Poor Charles was so fond of him!' whispered she in Berthier's ear;
and as she spoke, the expression of her face at once recalled where I
had seen her, and I now perceived that she was the same person I had
seen at table with Colonel Mahon, and whom I believed to be his wife.
A low whispering conversation now ensued between the general and
her, at the close of which he turned to me and said
'Madame Merlancourt has deigned to take an interest in youyou are
pardoned. Remember, sir, to whom you owe your life, and be grateful to
her for it.'
I took the hand she extended towards me, and pressed it to my lips.
'Madame,' said I, 'there is but one favour more I would ask in this
world, and with it I could think myself happy.'
'But can I grant it, mon cher?' said she, smiling.
'If I am to judge from the influence I have seen you wield, madame,
here and elsewhere, this petition will easily be accorded.'
A slight flush coloured the lady's cheek, while that of the general
became dyed red with anger. I saw that I had committed some terrible
blunder, but how, or in what, I knew not.
'Well, sir,' said Madame Merlancourt, addressing me with a stately
coldness of manner, very different from her former tone, 'let us hear
what you ask, for we are already taking up a vast deal of time that our
host would prefer devoting to his friendswhat is it you wish?'
'My discharge from a service, madame, where zeal and enthusiasm are
rewarded with infamy and disgrace; my freedom to be anything but a
French soldier.'
'You are resolved, sir, that I am not to be proud of my protégé,'
said she haughtily; 'what words are these to speak in presence of a
general and his officers?'
'I am bold, madame, as you say, but I am wronged.'
'How so, sirin what have you been injured?' cried the general
hastily, 'except in the excessive condescension which has stimulated
your presumption. But we are really two indulgent in this long parley.
Madame, permit me to offer you some coffee under the trees. Contardo,
tell the band to follow us. Gentlemen, we expect the pleasure of your
society.'
And so' saying, Berthier presented his arm to the lady, who swept
proudly past without deigning to notice me. In a few minutes the tent
was cleared of all, except the servants occupied in removing the
remains of the dessert, and I fell back, unremarked and unobserved, to
take my way homeward to the barracks, more indifferent to life than
ever I had been afraid of death.
As I am not likely to recur at any length to the somewhat famous
person to whom I owed my life, I may as well state that her name has
since occupied no inconsiderable share of attention in France, and her
history, under the title of Mémoires d'une Contemporaine,
excited a degree of interest and anxiety in quarters which one might
have fancied far above the reach of her revelations. At the time I
speak of, I little knew the character of the age in which such
influences were all powerful, nor how destinies very different from
mine hung upon the favouritism of 'La belle Nathalie.' Had I known
these things, and, still more, had I known the sad fate to which she
brought my poor friend, Colonel Mahon, I might have scrupled to accept
my life at such hands, or involved myself in a debt of gratitude to one
for whom I was subsequently to feel nothing but hatred and aversion. It
was indeed a terrible period, and in nothing more so than the fact that
acts of benevolence and charity were blended up with features of
falsehood, treachery, and baseness, which made one despair of humanity,
and think the very worst of their species.
CHAPTER XV. SCRAPS OF HISTORY
Nothing displays more powerfully the force of egotism than the
simple truth that, when any man sits himself down to write the events
of his life, the really momentous occurrences in which he may have
borne a part occupy a conspicuously small place, when each petty
incident of a merely personal nature is dilated and extended beyond all
bounds. In one sense, the reader benefits by this, since there are few
impertinences less forgivable than the obtrusion of some insignificant
name into the narrative of facts that are meet for history. I have made
these remarks in a spirit of apology to my reader; not alone for the
accuracy of my late detail, but also, if I should seem in future to
dwell but passingly on the truly important facts of a great campaign,
in which my own part was so humble.
I was a soldier in that glorious army which Moreau led into the
heart of Germany, and whose victorious career would only have ceased
when they entered the capital of the Empire, had it not been for the
unhappy mistakes of Jourdan, who commanded the auxiliary forces in the
north. For nigh three months we advanced steadily and successfully,
superior in every engagement; we only waited for the moment of junction
with Jourdan's army, to declare the Empire our own; when at last came
the terrible tidings that he had been beaten, and that Latour was
advancing from Ulm to turn our left flank, and cut off our
communications with France.
Two hundred miles from our own frontiersseparated from the Rhine
by that terrible Black Forest whose defiles are mere gorges between
vast mountainswith an army fifty thousand strong on one flank, and
the Archduke Charles commanding a force of nigh thirty thousand on the
othersuch were the dreadful combinations which now threatened us with
a defeat not less signal than Jourdan's own. Our strength, however, lay
in a superb army of seventy thousand unbeaten men, led on by one whose
name alone was victory.
On the 24th of September the order for retreat was given; the army
began to retire by slow marches, prepared to contest every inch of
ground, and make every available spot a battlefield. The baggage and
ammunition were sent on in front, and two days' march in advance.
Behind, a formidable rear-guard was ready to repulse every attack of
the enemy. Before, however, entering those close défiles by which his
retreat lay, Moreau determined to give one terrible lesson to his
enemy, like the hunted tiger turning upon his pursuers, he suddenly
halted at Biberach, and ere Latour, who commanded the Austrians, was
aware of his purpose, assailed the Imperial forces with an attack on
right, centre, and left together. Four thousand prisoners and eighteen
pieces of cannon were the trophies of the victory.
The day after this decisive battle our march was resumed, and the
advanced-guard entered that narrow and dismal defile which goes by the
name of the 'Valley of Hell,' when our left and right flanks, stationed
at the entrance of the pass, effectually secured the retreat against
molestation. The voltigeurs of St. Cyr crowning the heights as we went,
swept away the light troops which were scattered along the rocky
eminences, and in less than a fortnight our army debouched by Fribourg
and Oppenheim into the valley of the Rhine, not a gun having been lost,
not a caisson deserted, during that perilous movement.
The Archduke, however, having ascertained the direction of Moreau's
retreat, advanced by a parallel pass through the Kinzigthal, and
attacked St. Cyr at Nauen-dorf, and defeated him. Our right flank,
severely handled at Emmendingen, the whole force was obliged to retreat
on Hüningen, and once more we found ourselves upon the banks of the
Rhine, no longer an advancing army, high in hope, and flushed with
victorybut beaten, harassed, and retreating!
The last few days of that retreat presented a scene of disaster such
as I can never forget. To avoid the furious charges of the Austrian
cavalry, against which our own could no longer make resistance, we had
fallen back upon a line of country cut up into rocky cliffs and
precipices, and covered by a dense pine forest. Here, necessarily
broken up into small parties, we were assailed by the light troops of
the enemy, led on through the various passes by the peasantry, whose
animosity our own severity had excited. It was, therefore, a continual
hand-to-hand struggle, in which, opposed as we were to overpowering
numbers acquainted with every advantage of the ground, our loss was
terrific. It is said that nigh seven thousand men fell-an immense
number, when no general action had occurred. Whatever the actual loss,
such were the circumstances of our army, that Moreau hastened to
propose an armistice, on the condition of the Rhine being the boundary
between the two armies, while Kehl was still to be held by the French.
The proposal was rejected by the Austrians, who at once commenced
preparations for a siege of the fortress with forty thousand troops,
under Latour's command. The earlier months of winter now passed in the
labours of the siege, and on the morning of New-year's Day the first
attack was made; the second line was carried a few days after, and,
after a glorious defence by Desaix, the garrison capitulated, and
evacuated the fortress on the 9th of the month. Thus, in the space of
six short months, had we advanced with a conquering army into the very
heart of the Empire, and now we were back again within our own
frontier, not one single trophy of all our victories remaining,
two-thirds of our army dead or woundedmore than all, the prestige of
our superiority fatally injured, and that of the enemy's valour and
prowess as signally elevated.
The short annals of a successful soldier are often comprised in the
few words which state how he was made lieutenant at such a date,
promoted to his company here, obtained his majority there, succeeded to
the command of his regiment at such a place, and so on. Now my exploits
may even be more briefly written as regards this campaignfor, whether
at Kehl, at Nauendorf, on the Elz, or at Huningen, I ended as I
begana simple soldier of the ranks. A few slight wounds, a few still
more insignificant words of praise, were all that I brought back with
me; but if my trophies were small, I had gained considerably both in
habits of discipline and obedience. I had learned to endure, ably and
without complaining, the inevitable hardships of a campaign, and,
better still, to see that the irrepressible impulses of the soldier,
however prompted by zeal or heroism, may oftener mar than promote the
more mature plans of his general. Scarcely had my feet once more
touched French ground, than I was seized with the ague, then raging as
an epidemic among the troops, and sent forward with a large detachment
of sick to the Military Hospital of Strasbourg.
Here I bethought me of my patron, Colonel Mahon, and determined to
write to him. For this purpose I addressed a question to the
Adjutant-General's office to ascertain the colonel's address. The reply
was a brief and stunning onehe had been dismissed the service. No
personal calamity could have thrown me into deeper affliction; nor had
I even the sad consolation of learning any of the circumstances of this
misfortune. His death, even though thereby I should have lost my only
friend, would have been a lighter evil than this disgrace; and coming
as did the tidings when I was already broken by sickness and defeat,
more than ever disgusted me with a soldier's life. It was then with a
feeling of total indifference that I heard a rumour which at another
moment would have filled me with enthusiasmthe order for all invalids
sufficiently well to be removed, to be drafted into regiments serving
in Italy. The fame of Bonaparte, who commanded that army, had now
surpassed that of all the other generals; his victories paled the glory
of their successes, and it was already a mark of distinction to have
served under his command.
The walls of the hospital were scrawled over with the names of his
victories; rude sketches of Alpine passes, terrible ravines, or
snow-clad peaks, met the eye everywhere; and the one magical name,
'Bonaparte,' written beneath, seemed the key to all their meaning. With
him war seemed to assume all the charms of romance. Each action was
illustrated by feats of valour or heroism, and a halo of glory seemed
to shine over all the achievements of his genius.
It was a clear, bright morning of March, when a light frost
sharpened the air, and a fair, blue sky overhead showed a cloudless
elastic atmosphere, that the 'invalides,' as we were all called, were
drawn up in the great square of the hospital for inspection. Two
superior officers of the staff, attended by several surgeons and an
adjutant, sat at a table in front of us, on which lay the regimental
books and conduct-rolls of the different corps. Such of the sick as had
received severe wounds, incapacitating them for further service, were
presented with some slight rewarda few francs in money, a greatcoat,
or a pair of shoes, and obtained their freedom. Others, whose injuries
were less important, received their promotion, or some slight increase
of pay, these favours being all measured by the character the
individual bore in his regiment, and the opinion certified of him by
his commanding officer. When my turn came, and I stood forward, I felt
a kind of shame to think how little claim I could prefer either to
honour or advancement.
'Maurice Tiernay, slightly wounded by a sabre at
Nauendorfflesh-wound at Biberachenterprising and active, but
presumptuous and overbearing with his comrades,' read out the adjutant,
while he added a few words I could not hear, but at which the superior
laughed heartily.
'What says the doctor?' asked he, after a pause.
'This has been a bad case of ague, and I doubt if the young fellow
will ever be fit for active servicecertainly not at present.'
'Is there a vacancy at Saumur?' asked the general. 'I see he has
been employed in the school at Nancy.'
'Tes, sir; for the third class there is one.'
'Let him have it, then. Tiernay, you are appointed as aspirant of
the third class at the College of Saumur. Take care that the report of
your conduct be more creditable than what is written here. Your
opportunities will now be considerable, and, if well employed, may lead
to further honour and distinction; if neglected or abused, your chances
are forfeited for ever.'
I bowed and retired, as little satisfied with the admonition as
elated with a prospect which converted me from a soldier into a
scholar, and, in the first verge of manhood, threw me back once more
into the condition of a mere boy.
Eighteen months of my lifenot the least happy, perhaps, since in
the peaceful portion I can trace so little to be sorry forglided over
beside the banks of the beautiful Loire, the intervals in the hour of
study being spent either in the riding-school, or the river, where, in
addition to swimming and diving, we were instructed in pontooning and
rafting, the modes of transporting ammunition and artillery, and the
attacks of infantry by cavalry pickets.
I also learned to speak and write English and German with great ease
and fluency, besides acquiring some skill in military drawing and
engineering.
It is true that the imprisonment chafed sorely against us, as we
read of the great achievements of our armies in various parts of the
worldof the great battles of Cairo and the Pyramids, of Acre and
Mount Thabor, and of which a holiday and a fête were to be our only
share.
The terrible storms which shook Europe from end to end only reached
us in the bulletins of new victories, and we panted for the time when
we, too, should be actors in the glorious exploits of France.
It is already known to the reader that of the country from which my
family came I myself knew nothing. The very little I had ever learned
of it from my father was also a mere tradition; still was I known among
my comrades only as 'the Irishman,' and by that name was I recognised,
even in the record of the school, where I was inscribed thus'Maurice
Tiernay, dit l'Irlandais.' It was on this very simple and
seemingly unimportant fact my whole fate in life was to turn; and in
this wise-But the explanation deserves a chapter of its own, and shall
have it.
CHAPTER XVI. AN OLD GENERAL OF THE
IRISH BRIGADE
In obedience to an order which arrived at Saumur one morning in the
July of 1788,1 was summoned before the commandant of the school, when
the following brief colloquy ensued:
'Maurice Tiernay,' said he, reading from the record of the school,
why are you called l'Irlandais?'
'I am Irish by descent, sir.'
'Ha! by descent. Your father was, then, an émigré?
'No, sirmy great-grandfather.'
'Parbleu! that is going very far back. Are you aware of the
causes which induced him to leave his native country?'
'They were connected with political trouble, I've heard, sir. He
took part against the English, my father told me, and was obliged to
make his escape to save his life.' 'You, then, hate the English,
Maurice?' 'My ancestor certainly did not love them, sir.'
'Nor can you, boy, ever forgive their having exiled your family from
country and home; every man of honour retains the memory of such
injuries.'
'I can scarcely deem that an injury, sir, which has made me a French
citizen,' said I proudly.
'True, boyyou say what is perfectly true and just; any sacrifice
of fortune or patrimony is cheap at such a price; still you have
suffered a wronga deep and irreparable wrongand as a Frenchman you
are ready to avenge it.'
Although I had no very precise notion, either as to the extent of
the hardships done me, nor in what way I was to demand the reparation,
I gave the assent he seemed to expect.
'You are well acquainted with the language, I believe?' continued
he.
'I can read and speak English tolerably well, sir.'
'But I speak of Irish, boyof the language which is spoken by your
fellow-countrymen,' said he rebukingly.
'I have always heard, sir, that this has fallen into disuse, and is
little known save among the peasantry in a few secluded districts.'
He seemed impatient as I said this, and referred once more to the
paper before him, from whose minutes he appeared to have been speaking.
'You must be in error, boy. I find here that the nation is devotedly
attached to its traditions and literature, and feels no injury deeper
than the insulting substitution of a foreign tongue for their own noble
language.'
'Of myself I know nothing, sir; the little I have learned was
acquired when a mere child.'
'Ah, then, you probably forget, or may never have heard the fact;
but it is as I tell you. This, which I hold here, is the report of a
highly distinguished and most influential personage, who lays great
stress upon the circumstance. I am sorry, Tiernay, very sorry, that you
are unacquainted with the language.'
He continued for some minutes to brood over this disappointment, and
at last returned to the paper before him.
'The geography of the countrywhat knowledge have you on that
subject?'
'No more, sir, than I may possess of other countries, and merely
learned from maps.'
'Bad again,' muttered he to himself. 'Madgett calls these
essentials; but we shall see.' Then addressing me, he said, 'Tiernay,
the object of my present interrogatory is to inform you that the
Directory is about to send an expedition to Ireland to assist in the
liberation of that enslaved people. It has been suggested that young
officers and soldiers of Irish descent might render peculiar service to
the cause, and I have selected you for an opportunity which will
convert these worsted epaulettes into bullion.'
This at least was intelligible news, and now I began to listen with
more attention.
'There is a report,' said he, laying down before me a very capacious
manuscript, 'which you will carefully peruse. Here are the latest
pamphlets setting forth the state of public opinion in Ireland; and
here are various maps of the coast, the harbours, and the strongholds
of that country, with all of which you may employ yourself
advantageously; and if, on considering the subject, you feel disposed
to volunteerfor as a volunteer only could your services be
acceptedI will willingly support your request by all the influence in
my power.'
'I am ready to do so at once, sir,' said I eagerly; 'I have no need
to know any more than you have told me.'
'Well said, boy; I like your ardour. Write your petition and it
shall be forwarded to-day. I will also try and obtain for you the same
regimental rank you hold in the school'I was a sergeant'it will
depend upon yourself afterwards to secure a further advancement. You
are now free from duty; lose no time, therefore, in storing your mind
with every possible information, and be ready to set out at a moment's
notice.'
'Is the expedition so nearly ready, sir?' asked I eagerly.
He nodded, and with a significant admonition as to secrecy,
dismissed me, bursting with anxiety to examine the stores of knowledge
before me, and prepare myself with all the details of a plan in which
already I took the liveliest interest. Before the week expired, I
received an answer from the Minister, accepting the offer of my
services. The reply found me deep in those studies, which I scarcely
could bear to quit even at meal-times. Never did I experience such an
all-devouring passion for a theme as on that occasion. 'Ireland' never
left my thoughts; her wrongs and sufferings were everlastingly before
me; all the cruelties of centuriesall the hard tyranny of the penal
lawsthe dire injustice of caste oppressionfilled me with
indignation and anger; while, on the other hand, I conceived the
highest admiration of a people who, undeterred by the might and power
of England, resolved to strike a great blow for liberty.
The enthusiasm of the peoplethe ardent daring of a valour whose
impetuosity was its greatest difficultytheir high romantic
temperamenttheir devotiontheir gratitudethe childlike
trustfulness of their natures, were all traits, scattered through the
various narratives, which invariably attracted me, and drew me more
strongly to their causemore from affection than reason.
Madgett's memoir was filled with these; and he, I concluded, must
know them well, being, as it was asserted, one of the ancient nobility
of the land, and who now desired nothing better than to throw rank,
privilege, and title into the scale, and do battle for the liberty and
equality of his countrymen. How I longed to see this great man, whom my
fancy arrayed in all the attributes he so lavished upon his countrymen,
for they were not only, in his description, the boldest and the
bravest, but the handsomest people of Europe.
As to the success of the enterprise, whatever doubts I had at first
conceived, from an estimate of the immense resources of England, were
speedily solved, as I read of the enormous preparations the Irish had
made for the struggle. The Roman Catholics, Madgett said, were three
millions, the Dissenters another million, all eager for freedom and
French alliance, wanting nothing but the appearance of a small armed
force to give them the necessary organisation and discipline. They were
somewhat deficient, he acknowledged, in firearmscannon they had none
whatever; but the character of the country, which consisted of
mountains, valleys, ravines and gorges, reduced war to the mere
chivalrous features of personal encounter. What interminable
descriptions did I wade through of clubs and associations, the very
names of which were a puzzle to methe great union of all appearing to
be a society called 'Defenders,' whose oath bound them to 'fidelity to
the united nations of France and Ireland!'
So much for the one side. For the other, it was asserted that the
English forces then in garrison in Ireland were beneath contempt; the
militia, being principally Irish, might be relied on for taking the
popular side; and as to the Regulars, they were either 'old men or
boys,' incapable of active service; and several of the regiments being
Scotch, greatly disaffected to the Government. Then, again, as to the
navy, the sailors in the English fleet were more than two-thirds
Irishmen, all Catholics, and all disaffected.
That the enterprise contained every element of success, then, who
could doubt? The nation, in the proportion of ten to one, were for the
movement. On their side lay not alone the wrongs to avenge, but the
courage, the energy, and the daring. Their oppressors were as weak as
tyrannical, their cause was a bad one, and their support of it a hollow
semblance of superiority.
If I read these statements with ardour and avidity, one lurking
sense of doubt alone obtruded itself on my reasonings. Why, with all
these guarantees of victory, with everything that can hallow a cause,
and give it stability and strengthwhy did the Irish ask for aid? If
they were, as they alleged, an immense majorityif there was all the
heroism and the daringif the struggle was to be maintained against a
miserably inferior force, weakened by age, incapacity, and
disaffectionwhat need had they of Frenchmen on their side? The answer
to all such doubts, however, was 'the Irish were deficient in
organisation.'
Not only was the explanation a very sufficient one, but it served in
a high degree to flatter our vanity. We were, then, to be organisers of
Ireland; from us were they to take the lessons of civilisation, which
should prepare them for freedomours was the task to discipline their
valour, and train their untaught intelligence. Once landed in the
country, it was to our standard they were to rally; from us were to go
forth the orders of every movement and measure; to us this new land was
to be an El Dorado. Madgett significantly hinted everywhere at the
unbounded gratitude of Irishmen, and more than hinted at the future
fate of certain confiscated estates. One phrase, ostentatiously set
forth in capitals, asserted that the best general of the French
Republic could not be anywhere employed with so much reputation and
profit. There was, then, everything to stimulate the soldier in such an
enterprisehonour, fame, glory, and rich rewards were all among the
prizes.
It was when deep in the midst of these studies, poring over maps and
reports, taxing my memory with hard names, and getting off by heart
dates, distances, and numbers, that the order came for me to repair at
once to Paris, where the volunteers of the expedition were to assemble.
My rank of sergeant had been confirmed, and in this capacity, as
sous-officier, I was ordered to report myself to General Kilmaine,
the adjutant-general of the expedition, then living in the Rue
Ghantereine. I was also given the address of a certain LestaingRue
Tailbouta tailor, from whom, on producing a certificate, I was to
obtain my new uniform.
Full as I was of the whole theme, thinking of the expedition by day,
and dreaming of it by night, I was still little prepared for the
enthusiasm it was at that very moment exciting in every society of the
capital. For some time previously a great number of Irish emigrants had
made Paris their residence; some were men of good position and ample
fortune; some were individuals of considerable ability and
intelligence. All were enthusiastic, and ardent in
temperamentdevotedly attached to their countryhearty haters of
England, and proportionally attached to all that was French. These
sentiments, coupled with a certain ease of manner, and a faculty of
adaptation, so peculiarly Irish, made them general favourites in
society; and long before the Irish question had found any favour with
the public, its national supporters had won over the hearts and good
wishes of all Paris to the cause.
Well pleased, then, as I was with my handsome uniform of green and
gold, my small chapeau, with its plume of cock's feathers, and the
embroidered shamrock on my collar, I was not a little struck by the
excitement my first appearance in the street created. Accustomed to see
a hundred strange military costumesthe greater number, I own, more
singular than tastefulthe Parisians, I concluded, would scarcely
notice mine in the crowd. Not so, however; the print-shops had already
given the impulse to the admiration, and the 'Irish Volunteer of the
Guard' was to be seen in every window, in all the 'glory of his
bravery.' The heroic character of the expedition, too, was typified by
a great variety of scenes, in which the artist's imagination had all
the credit. In one picture the jeune Irlandais was planting a
national flag of very capacious dimensions on the summit of his native
mountains; here he was storming Le Château de Dublin, a most
formidable fortress, perched on a rock above the sea; here he was
crowning the heights of La Citadelle de Cork, a very Gibraltar
in strength; or he was haranguing the native chieftains, a highly
picturesque groupa cross between a knight crusader and a South-sea
islander.
My appearance, therefore, in the streets was the signal for general
notice and admiration, and more than one compliment was uttered,
purposely loud enough to reach me, on the elegance and style of my
equipment. In the pleasant flurry of spirits excited by this flattery,
I arrived at the general's quarters in the Rue Chantereine. It was
considerably before the time of his usual receptions, but the glitter
of my epaulettes, and the air of assurance I had assumed, so far
imposed upon the old servant who acted as valet, that he at once
introduced me into a small saloon, and after a brief pause presented me
to the general, who was reclining on a sofa at his breakfast. Although
far advanced in years, and evidently broken by bad health, General
Kilmaine still preserved traces of great personal advantages, while his
manner exhibited all that polished ease and courtesy which was said to
be peculiar to the Irish gentleman of the French Court. Addressing me
in English, he invited me to join his meal, and on my declining, as
having already breakfasted, he said, 'I perceive, from your name, we
are countrymen, and as your uniform tells me the service in which you
are engaged, we may speak with entire confidence. Tell me then,
frankly, all that you know of the actual condition of Ireland.'
Conceiving that this question applied to the result of my late
studies, and was meant to elicit the amount of my information, I at
once began a recital of what I had learned from the books and reports I
had been reading, My statistics were perfectthey had been gotten off
by heart; my sympathies were, for the same reason, most eloquent; my
indignation was boundless on the wrongs I deplored, and in fact, in the
fifteen minutes during which he permitted me to declaim without
interruption, I had gone through the whole 'cause of Ireland,' from
Henry n. to George n.
'You have been reading Mr. Madgett, I perceive,' said he, with a
smile; 'but I would rather hear something of your own actual
experience. Tell me, therefore, in what condition are the people at
this moment, as regards poverty?'
'I have never been in Ireland, general,' said I, not without some
shame at the avowal coming so soon after my eloquent exhortation.
'Ah, I perceive,' said he blandly, 'of Irish origin, and a relative
probably of that very distinguished soldier, Count Maurice de Tiernay,
who served in the Garde du Corps.'
'His only son, general,' said I, blushing with eagerness and
pleasure at the praise of my father.
'Indeed!' said he, smiling courteously, and seeming to meditate on
my words. 'There was not a better nor a braver sabre in the corps than
your fathera very few more of such men might have saved the
monarchyas it was, they dignified its fall. And to whose guidance and
care did you owe your early training, for I see you have not been
neglected?'
A few words told him the principal events of my early years, to
which he listened with deep attention. At length he said, 'And now you
are about to devote your acquirements and energy to this new
expedition?'
'All, general! Everything that I have is too little for such a
cause.'
'You say truly, boy,' said he warmly; 'would that so good a cause
had better leaders. I mean,' added he hurriedly, 'wiser ones. Men more
conversant with the actual state of events, more fit to cope with the
great difficulties before them, more ready to take advantage of
circumstances, whose outward meaning will often prove deceptive. In
fact, Irishmen of character and capacity, tried soldiers and good
patriots. Well, well, let us hope the best. In whose division are you?'
'I have not yet heard, sir. I have presented myself here to-day to
receive your orders.'
'There again is another instance of their incapacity,' cried he
passionately. 'Why, boy, I have no command, nor any function. I did
accept office under General Hoche, but he is not to lead the present
expedition.'
'And who is, sir?'
'I cannot tell you. A week ago they talked of Grouchy, then of
Hardy; yesterday it was Humbert; to-day it may be Bonaparte, and
to-morrow yourself! Ay, Tiernay, this great and good cause has its
national fatality attached to it, and is so wrapped up in low intrigue
and falsehood, that every Minister becomes in turn disgusted with the
treachery and mendacity he meets with, and bequeaths the question to
some official underling, meet partisan for the mock patriot he treats
with.'
'But the expedition will sail, general?' asked I, sadly discomfited
by this tone of despondency.
He made me no answer, but sat for some time absorbed in his own
thoughts. At last he looked up, and said, 'You ought to be in the army
of Italy, boy; the great teacher of war is there.'
'I know it, sir, but my whole heart is in this struggle. I feel that
Ireland has a claim on all who derived even a name from her soil. Do
you not believe that the expedition will sail?'
Again he was silent and thoughtful.
'Mr. Madgett would say yes,' said he scornfully, 'though, certes, he
would not volunteer to bear it company.'
'Colonel Cherin, general!' said the valet, as he flung open the door
for a young officer in a staff uniform. I arose at once to withdraw,
but the general motioned to me to wait in an adjoining room, as he
desired to speak with me again.
Scarcely five minutes had elapsed when I was summoned once more
before him.
'You have come at a most opportune moment, Tiernay,' said he;
'Colonel Cherin informs me that an expedition is ready to sail from
Rochelle at the first favourable wind. General Humbert has the command;
and if you are disposed to join him I will give you a letter of
presentation.'
Of course I did not hesitate in accepting the offer; and while the
general drew over his desk to write the letter, I withdrew towards the
window to converse with Colonel Cherin.
'You might have waited long enough,' said he, laughing, 'if the
affair had been in other hands than Humbert's. The delays and
discussions of the official people, the difficulty of anything like
agreement, the want of money, and fifty other causes, would have
detained the fleet till the English got scent of the whole. But Humbert
has taken the short road in the matter. He only arrived at La Rochelle
five days ago, and now he is ready to weigh anchor.'
'And in what way has he accomplished this?' asked I, in some
curiosity.
'By a method,' replied he, laughing again, 'which is usually
reserved for an enemy's country. Growing weary of a correspondence with
the Minister, which seemed to make little progress, and urged on by the
enthusiastic stories of the Irish refugees, he resolved to wait no
longer; and so he has called on the merchants and magistrates to
advance him a sum on military requisition, together with such stores
and necessaries as he stands in need of.'
'And they have complied?' asked I.
'Parbleu! that have they. In the first place, they had no
other choice; and in the second, they are but too happy to get rid of
him and his 'Legion Noir,' as they are called, so cheaply. A thousand
louis and a thousand muskets would not pay for the damage of these
vagabonds each night they spent in the town.'
I confess that this description did not tend to exalt the enthusiasm
I had conceived for the expedition; but it was too late for
hesitationtoo late for even a doubt. Go forward I should, whatever
might come of it. And now the general had finished his letter, which,
having sealed and addressed, he gave into my hand, saying'This will
very probably obtain your promotion, if not at once, at least on the
first vacancy. Good-bye, my lad; there may be hard knocks going where
you will be, but I'm certain you'll not disgrace the good name you
bear, nor the true cause for which you are fighting. I would that I had
youth and strength to stand beside you in the struggle!
'Good-bye.' He shook me affectionately by both hands; the colonel,
too, bade me adieu not less cordially; and I took my leave with a heart
overflowing with gratitude and delight.
CHAPTER XVII. LA ROCHELLE
La Rochelle is a quiet little town at the bottom of a small bay, the
mouth of which is almost closed up by two islands. There is a sleepy,
peaceful air about the placea sort of drowsy languor pervades
everything and everybody about it, that tells of a town whose days of
busy prosperity have long since passed by, and which is dragging out
life, like some retired tradesmantoo poor for splendour, but rich
enough to be idle. A long avenue of lime-trees incloses the harbour;
and here the merchants conduct their bargains, while their wives,
seated beneath the shade, discuss the gossip of the place over their
work. All is patriarchal and primitive as Holland itself; the very
courtesies of life exhibiting that ponderous stateliness which
insensibly reminds one of the land of dikes and broad breeches. It is
the least 'French' of any town I have ever seen in France; none of that
light merriment, that gay volatility of voice and air which form the
usual atmosphere of a French town. All is still, orderly, and sombre;
and yet on the night in whichsomething more than fifty years backI
first entered it, a very different scene was presented to my eyes.
It was about ten o'clock, and by a moon nearly full, the diligence
rattled along the covered ways of the old fortress, and crossing many a
moat and drawbridge, the scenes of a once glorious struggle, entered
the narrow streets, traversed a wide place, and drew up within the
ample portals of 'La Poste.'
Before I could remove the wide capote which I wore, the waiter
ushered me into a large salon where a party of about forty persons were
seated at supper. With a few exceptions they were all military
officers, and sous-officiers of the expedition, whose noisy
gaiety and boisterous mirth sufficiently attested that the
entertainment had begun a considerable time before.
A profusion of bottles, some empty, others in the way to become so,
covered the table, amidst which lay the fragments of a common
table-d'hôte supperlarge dishes of cigars and basins of tobacco
figuring beside the omelettes and the salad.
The noise, the heat, the smoke, and the confusionthe clinking of
glasses, the singing, and the speech-making, made a scene of such
turmoil and uproar, that I would gladly have retired to some quieter
atmosphere, when suddenly an accidental glimpse of my uniform caught
some eyes among the revellers, and a shout was raised of 'Holloa,
comrades! here's one of the Guides among us.' And at once the whole
assembly rose up to greet me. For full ten minutes I had to submit to a
series of salutations, which led to every form, from hand-shaking and
embracing to kissing; while, perfectly unconscious of any cause for my
popularity, I went through the ceremonies like one in a dream.
'Where's Kilmaine?' 'What of Hardy?' 'Is Grouchy coming?' 'Can the
Brest fleet sail?' 'How many line-of-battle ships have they?' 'What's
the artillery force?' 'Have you brought any money?' This last question,
the most frequent of all, was suddenly poured in upon me, and with a
fortunate degree of rapidity, that I had no time for a reply, had I
even the means of making one.
'Let the lad have a seat and a glass of wine before he submits to
this interrogatory,' said a fine, jolly-looking old chef d'escadron
at the head of the table, while he made a place for me at his side.
'Now tell us, boy, what number of the Guides are to be of our party?'
I looked a little blank at the question, for in truth I had not
heard of the corps before, nor was I aware that it was their uniform I
was then wearing.
'Come, come, be frank with us, lad,' said he; 'we are all comrades
here. Confound secrecy, say I.'
'Ay, ay,' cried the whole assembly together'confound secrecy. We
are not bandits nor highwaymen; we have no need of concealment.'
'I'll be as frank as you can wish, comrades,' said I; 'and if I lose
some importance in your eyes by owning that I am not the master of a
single state secret, I prefer to tell you so, to attempting any
unworthy disguise. I come here, by orders from General Kilmaine, to
join your expedition; and except this letter for General Humbert, I
have no claim to any consideration whatever.'
The old chef took the letter from my hands and examined the
seal and superscription carefully, and then passed the document down
the table for the satisfaction of the rest.
While I continued to watch with anxious eyes the letter on which so
much of my own fate depended, a low whispering conversation went on at
my side, at the end of which the chef said
'It's more than likely, lad, that your regiment is not coming; but
our general is not to be balked for that. Go he will; and let the
Government look to themselves if he is not supported. At all events you
had better see General Humbert at once; there's no saying what that
despatch may contain. Santerre, conduct him upstairs.'
A smart young fellow arose at the bidding, and beckoned me to follow
him.
It was not without difficulty that we forced our way upstairs, down
which porters, and sailors, and soldiers were now carrying a number of
heavy trunks and packing-cases. At last we gained an anteroom, where
confusion seemed at its highest, crowded as it was by soldiers, the
greater number of them intoxicated, and all in a state of riotous and
insolent insubordination. Amongst these were a number of the
townspeople, eager to prefer complaints for outrage and robbery, but
whose subdued voices were drowned amid the clamour of their oppressors.
Meanwhile, clerks were writing away receipts for stolen and pillaged
articles, and which, signed with the name of the general, were grasped
at with eager avidity. Even personal injuries were requited in the same
cheap fashion, orders on the national treasury being freely issued for
damaged noses and smashed heads, and gratefully received by the
confiding populace.
'If the wind draws a little more to the southward before morning,
we'll pay our debts with the topsail sheet, and it will be somewhat
shorter, and to the full as honest,' said a man in a naval uniform.
'Where's the officer of the Regiment des Guides?' cried a soldier
from the door at the farther end of the room; and before I had time to
think over the designation of rank given me, I was hurried into the
general's presence.
General Humbert, whose age might have been thirty-eight or forty,
was a tall, well-built, but somewhat over-corpulent man; his features
frank and manly, but with a dash of coarseness in their expression,
particularly about the mouth; a sabre-cut, which had divided the upper
lip, and whose cicatrix was then seen through his moustache,
heightening the effect of his sinister look; his carriage was
singularly erect and soldierlike, but all his gestures betrayed the
habits of one who had risen from the ranks, and was not unwilling to
revive the recollection.
He was parading the room from end to end when I entered, stopping
occasionally to look out from an open window upon the bay, where by the
clear moonlight might be seen the ships of the fleet at anchor. Two
officers of his staff were writing busily at a table, whence the
materials of a supper had not yet been removed. They did not look up as
I came forward, nor did he notice me in any way for several minutes.
Suddenly he turned towards me, and snatching the letter I held in my
hand, proceeded to read it. A burst of coarse laughter broke from him
as he perused the lines; and then throwing down the paper on the table,
he cried out
'So much for Kilmaine's contingent. I asked for a company of
engineers and a squadron of Guides, and they send me a boy from the
cavalry-school of Saumur. I tell them that I want some fellows
conversant with the language and the people, able to treat with the
peasantry, and acquainted with their habits, and here I have got a raw
youth whose highest acquirement in all likelihood is to daub a map with
water-colours, or take fortifications with a pair of compasses! I wish
I had some of these learned gentlemen in the trenches for a few hours.
Parbleu! I think I could teach them something they don't learn from
Citizen Carnot.Well, sir,' said he, turning abruptly towards me, 'how
many squadrons of the Guides are completed?'
'I cannot tell, general,' was my timid answer.
'Where are they stationed?'
'Of that also I am ignorant, sir.'
'Peste!' cried he, stamping his foot passionately; then
suddenly checking his anger, he asked, 'How many are coming to join
this expedition? Is there a regiment, a division, a troop? Can you tell
me with certainty that a sergeant's guard is on the way hither?'
'I cannot, sir; I know nothing whatever about the regiment in
question.'
'You have never seen it?' cried he vehemently.
'Never, sir.'
'This exceeds all belief,' exclaimed he, with a crash of his closed
fist upon the table. 'Three weeks letter-writing! Estafettes,
orderlies, and special couriers to no end! And here we have an
unfledged cur from a cavalry institute, when I asked for a strong
reinforcement. Then what brought you here, boy?'
'To join your expedition, general.'
'Have they told you it was a holiday-party that we had planned? Did
they say it was a junketing we were bent upon?'
'If they had, sir, I would not have come.'
'The greater fool you, then, that's all,' cried he, laughing; 'when
I was your age I'd not have hesitated twice between a merry-making and
a bayonet charge.'
While he was thus speaking, he never ceased to sign his name to
every paper placed before him by one or other of the secretaries.
'No, parbleu! he went on, 'La maîtresse before the
mitraille any day for me. But what's all this, Girard? Here I'm
issuing orders upon the national treasury for hundreds of thousands
without let or compunction.'
The aide-de-camp whispered a word or two in a low tone.
'I know it, lad; I know it well,' said the general, laughing
heartily; 'I only pray that all our requisitions may be as easily
obtained in future.Well, Monsieur le Guide, what are we to do with
you?'
'Not refuse me, I hope, general,' said I diffidently.
'Not refuse you, certainly; but in what capacity to take you, lad,
that's the question. If you had servedif you had even walked a
campaign'
'So I have, generalthis will show you where I have been'; and I
handed him the livret which every soldier carries of his conduct
and career.
He took the book, and casting his eyes hastily over it, exclaimed
'Why, what's this, lad? You've been at Kehl, at Emmendingen, at
Rorschach, at Huningen, through all that Black Forest affair with
Moreau! You have seen smoke, then. Ay! I see honourable mention of you
besides, for readiness in the field and zeal during action. What! more
brandy, Girard. Why, our Irish friends must have been exceedingly
thirsty. I've given them credit for something like ten thousand velts
already! No matter, the poor fellows may have to put up with short
rations for all this yetand there goes my signature once more. What
does that blue light mean, Girard?' said he, pointing to a bright blue
star that shone from a mast of one of the ships of war.
'That is the signal, general, that the embarkation of the artillery
is complete.'
'Parbleu!' said he with a laugh, 'it need not have taken
long; they've given in two batteries of eights, and one of them has not
a gun fit for service. There goes a rocket, now. Isn't that a signal to
heave short on the anchors? Yes, to be sure. And now it is answered by
the other! Ha! lads, this does look like business at last!'
The door opened as he spoke, and a naval officer entered.
'The wind is drawing round to the south, general; we can weigh with
the ebb if you wish it.'
'Wish it!if I wish it! Yes, with my whole heart and soul I do! I
am just as sick of La Rochelle as is La Rochelle of me. The salute that
announces our departure will be a feu de joie to both of us! Ay,
sir, tell your captain that I need no further notice than that he is
ready. Girard, see to it that the marauders are sent on board in irons.
The fellows must learn at once that discipline begins when we trip our
anchors. As for you,' said he, turning to me, 'you shall act upon my
staff with provisional rank as sous-lieutenant: time will show if the
grade should be confirmed. And now hasten down to the quay, and put
yourself under Colonel Serasin's orders.'
Colonel Serasin, the second in command, was, in many respects, the
very opposite of Humbert Sharp, petulant, and irascible, he seemed
quite to overlook the fact, that, in an expedition which was little
better than a foray, there must necessarily be a great relaxation of
the rules of discipline, and many irregularities at least winked at,
which, in stricter seasons, would call for punishment. The consequence
was, that a large proportion of our force went on board under arrest,
and many actually in irons. The Irish were, without a single exception,
all drunk; and the English soldiers, who had procured their liberation
from imprisonment on condition of joining the expedition, had made
sufficiently free with the brandy-bottle, to forget their new alliance,
and vent their hatred of France and Frenchmen in expressions whose only
alleviation was, that they were nearly unintelligible.
Such a scene of uproar, discord, and insubordination never was seen.
The relative conditions of guard and prisoner elicited national
animosities that were scarcely even dormant, and many a bloody
encounter took place between those whose instinct was too powerful to
feel themselves anything but enemies. A cry, too, was raised, that it
was meant to betray the whole expedition to the English, whose fleet,
it was asserted, had been seen off Oleron that morning; and although
there was not even the shadow of a foundation for the belief, it served
to increase the alarm and confusion. Whether originating or not with
the Irish, I cannot say, but certainly they took advantage of it to
avoid embarking; and now began a schism which threatened to wreck the
whole expedition, even in the harbour.
The Irish, as indifferent to the call of discipline as they were
ignorant of French, refused to obey orders save from officers of their
own country; and although Serasin ordered two companies to 'load with
ball and fire low,' the similar note for preparation from the
insurgents induced him to rescind the command and try a compromise.
In this crisis I was sent by Serasin to fetch what was called the
'Committee,' the three Irish deputies who accompanied the force. They
had already gone aboard of the Dedalus, little foreseeing the
difficulties that were to arise on shore.
Seated in a small cabin next the wardroom, I found these three
gentlemen, whose names were Tone, Teel-ing, and Sullivan. Their
attitudes were gloomy and despondent, and their looks anything but
encouraging as I entered. A paper on which a few words had been
scrawled, and signed with their three names underneath, lay before
them, and on this their eyes were bent with a sad and deep meaning. I
knew not then what it meant, but I afterwards learned that it was a
compact formally entered into and drawn up, that if, by the chance of
war, they should fall into the enemy's hands, they would anticipate
their fate by suicide, but leave to the English Government all the
ignominy and disgrace of their death.
They seemed scarcely to notice me as I came forward, and even when I
delivered my message they heard it with a half indifference.
'What do you want us to do, sir?' said Teeling, the eldest of the
party. 'We hold no command in the service. It was against our advice
and counsel that you accepted these volunteers at all We have no
influence over them.'
'Not the slightest,' broke in Tone. 'These fellows are bad soldiers
and worse Irishmen. The expedition will do better without them.'
'And they better without the expedition,' muttered Sullivan dryly.
'But you will come, gentlemen, and speak to them,' said I. 'You can
at least assure them that their suspicions are unfounded.'
'Very true, sir,' replied Sullivan, 'we can do so, but with what
success? No, no. If you can't maintain discipline here on your own
soil, you'll make a bad hand of doing it when you have your foot on
Irish ground.
And, after all, I for one am not surprised at the report gaining
credence.'
'How so, sir?' asked I indignantly.
'Simply that when a promise of fifteen thousand men dwindles down to
a force of eight hundred; when a hundred thousand stand of arms come to
be represented by a couple of thousand; when an expedition, pledged by
a Government, has fallen down to a marauding party; when Hoche or
KléberBut never mind, I always swore that if you sent but a
corporal's guard that I 'd go with them.'
A musket-shot here was heard, followed by a sharp volley and a
cheer, and, in an agony of anxiety, I rushed to the deck. Although
above half a mile from the shore, we could see the movement of troops
hither and thither, and hear the loud words of command. Whatever the
struggle, it was over in a moment, and now we saw the troops descending
the steps to the boats. With an inconceivable speed the men fell into
their places, and, urged on by the long sweeps, the heavy launches
swept across the calm water of the bay.
If a cautious reserve prevented any open questioning as to the late
affray, the second boat which came alongside revealed some of its
terrible consequences. Seven wounded soldiers were assisted up the side
by their comrades, and in total silence conveyed to their station
between decks.
'A bad augury this!' muttered Sullivan, as his eye followed them.
'They might as well have left that work for the English!'
A swift six-oar boat, with the tricolour flag floating from a
flagstaff at her stern, now skimmed along towards us, and as she came
nearer we could recognise the uniforms of the officers of Humbert's
staff, while the burly figure of the general himself was soon
distinguishable in the midst of them.
As he stepped up the ladder, not a trace of displeasure could be
seen on his broad bold features. Greeting the assembled officers with a
smile, he asked how the wind was.
'All fair, and freshening at every moment,' was the answer.
'May it continue!' cried he fervently. 'Welcome a hurricane, if it
only waft us westward!'
The foresail filled out as he spoke, the heavy ship heaved over to
the wind, and we began our voyage.
CHAPTER XVIII. 'THE BAY OF BATHFRAN'
Our voyage was very uneventful, but not without anxiety, since, to
avoid the English cruisers and the Channel fleet, we were obliged to
hold a southerly course for several days, making a great circuit before
we could venture to bear up for the place of our destination. The
weather alternated between light winds and a dead calm, which usually
came on every day at noon, and lasted till about sunset. As to me,
there was an unceasing novelty in everything about a ship; her
mechanism, her discipline, her progress, furnished abundant occupation
for all my thoughts, and I never wearied of acquiring knowledge of a
theme so deeply interesting. My intercourse with the naval officers,
too, impressed me strongly in their favour in comparison with their
comrades of the land service. In the former case, all was zeal,
activity, and watchfulness. The lookout never slumbered at his post;
and an unceasing anxiety to promote the success of the expedition
manifested itself in all their words and actions. This, of course, was
all to be expected in the discharge of the duties peculiarly their own;
but I also looked for something which should denote preparation and
forethought in the others; yet nothing of the kind was to be seen. The
expedition was never discussed even as table-talk; and for anything
that fell from the party in conversation, it would have been impossible
to say if our destination were China or Ireland. Not a book nor a map,
not a pamphlet nor a paper that bore upon the country whose destinies
were about to be committed to us, ever appeared on the tables. A vague
and listless doubt how long the voyage might last was the extent of
interest any one condescended to exhibit; but as to what was to follow
afterwhat new chapter of events should open when this first had
closed, none vouchsafed to inquire.
Even to this hour I am puzzled whether to attribute this strange
conduct to the careless levity of national character, or to a studied
and well 'got up' affectation. In all probability both influences were
at work; while a third, not less powerful, assisted themthis was the
gross ignorance and shameless falsehood of some of the Irish leaders of
the expedition, whose boastful and absurd histories ended by disgusting
every one. Among the projects discussed at the time, I well remember
one which was often gravely talked over, and the utter absurdity of
which certainly struck none amongst us. This was no less than the
intention of demanding the West India Islands from England as an
indemnity for the past woes and bygone misgovernment of Ireland. If
this seem barely credible now, I can only repeat my faithful assurance
of the fact, and I believe that some of the memoirs of the time will
confirm my assertion.
The French officers listened to these and similar speculations with
utter indifference; probably to many of them the geographical question
was a difficulty that stopped any further inquiry, while others felt no
further interest than what a campaign promised. All the enthusiastic
narratives, then, of high rewards and splendid trophies that awaited
us, fell upon inattentive ears, and at last the word Ireland ceased to
be heard amongst us. Play of various kinds occupied us when not engaged
on duty. There was little discipline maintained on board, and none of
that strictness which is the habitual rule of a ship-of-war. The lights
were suffered to burn during the greater part of the night in the
cabins; gambling went on usually till daybreak; and the quarter-deck,
that most reverential of spots to every sailor-mind, was often covered
by lounging groups, who smoked, chatted, or played at chess, in all the
cool apathy of men indifferent to its claim for respect.
Now and then, the appearance of a strange sail afar off, or some dim
object in the horizon, would create a momentary degree of excitement
and anxiety; but when the 'lookout' from the mast-head had proclaimed
her a 'schooner from Brest,' or a 'Spanish fruit-vessel,' the sense of
danger passed away at once, and none ever reverted to the subject.
With General Humbert I usually passed the greater part of each
forenoona distinction, I must confess, I owed to my skill as a
chess-player, a game of which he was particularly fond, and in which I
had attained no small proficiency. I was too young and too unpractised
in the world to make my skill subordinate to my chiefs, and beat him at
every game with as little compunction as though he were only my equal,
till, at last, vexed at his want of success, and tired of a contest
that offered no vicissitude of fortune, he would frequently cease
playing to chat over the events of the time, and the chances of the
expedition.
It was with no slight mixture of surprise and dismay that I now
detected his utter despair of all success, and that he regarded the
whole as a complete forlorn-hope. He had merely taken the command to
involve the French Government in the cause, and so far compromise the
national character that all retreat would be impossible. We shall be
all cut to pieces or taken prisoners the day after we land,' was his
constant exclamation, 'and then, but not till then, will they think
seriously in France of a suitable expedition.' There was no heroism,
still less was there any affectation of recklessness in this avowal. By
nature he was a rough, easy, good-tempered fellow, who liked his
profession less for its rewards than for its changeful scenes and
moving incidentshis one predominating feeling being that France
should give rule to the whole world, and the principles of her
Revolution he everywhere pre-eminent. To promote this consummation the
loss of an army was of little moment. Let the cause but triumph in the
end, and the cost was not worth fretting about.
Next to this sentiment was his hatred of England, and all that was
English. Treachery, falsehood, pride, avarice, grasping covetousness,
and unscrupulous aggression, were the characteristics by which he
described the nation; and he made the little knowledge he had gleaned
from newspapers and intercourse so subservient to this theory, that I
was an easy convert to his opinion; so that, ere long, my compassion
for the wrongs of Ireland was associated with the most profound hatred
of her oppressors.
To be sure, I should have liked the notion that we ourselves were to
have some more active share in the liberation of Irishmen than the mere
act of heralding another and more successful expedition; but even in
this thought there was romantic self-devotion, not unpleasing to the
mind of a boy; but, strange enough, I was the only one who felt it.
The first sight of land to one on sea is always an event of uncommon
interest; but how greatly increased is the feeling when that land is to
be the scene of a perilous exploitthe cradle of his ambition, or
perhaps his grave! All my speculations about the expeditionall my
daydreams of success, or my anxious hours of dark forebodingsnever
brought the matter so palpably before me as the dim outline of a
distant headland, which, I was told, was part of the Irish coast.
This was on the 17th of August, but on the following day we stood
further out to sea again, and saw no more of it.
The three succeeding ones we continued to beat up slowly to the
northward against a head wind and a heavy sea; but on the evening of
the 21st the sun went down in mellow splendour, and a light air from
the south springing up, the sailors pronounced a most favourable change
of weathera prophecy that a starry night and a calm sea soon
confirmed.
The morning of the 22nd broke splendidlya gentle breeze from the
south-west slightly curled the blue waves, and filled the canvas of the
three frigates, as in close order they sailed along under the tall
cliffs of Ireland. We were about three miles from the shore, on which
now every telescope and glass was eagerly directed. As the light and
fleeting clouds of early morning passed away we could descry the
outlines of the bold coast, indented with many a bay and creek, while
rocky promontories and grassy slopes succeeded each other in endless
variety of contrast. Towns, or even villages, we could see nonea few
small wretched-looking hovels were dotted over the hills, and here and
there a thin wreath of blue smoke bespoke habitation, but, save these
signs, there was an air of loneliness and solitude which increased the
solemn feelings of the scene.
All these objects of interest, however, soon gave way before another
to the contemplation of which every eye was turned. This was a small
fishing-boat, which, with a low mast and ragged piece of canvas, was
seen standing boldly out for us: a red handkerchief was fastened to a
stick in the stern, as if for a signal, and on our shortening sail, to
admit of her overtaking us, the ensign was lowered as though in
acknowledgment of our meaning.
The boat was soon alongside, and we now perceived that her crew
consisted of a man and a boy, the former of whom, a powerfully built,
loose fellow, of about five-and-forty, dressed in a light-blue frieze
jacket and trousers, adroitly caught at the cast of rope thrown out to
him, and having made fast his skiff, clambered up the ship's side at
once, gaily, as though he were an old friend coming to welcome us.
'Is he a pilot?' asked the officer of the watch, addressing one of
the Irish officers.
'No; he's only a fisherman, but he knows the coast perfectly, and
says there is deep water within twenty fathoms of the shore.'
An animated conversation in Irish now ensued between the peasant and
Captain Madgett, during which a wondering and somewhat impatient group
stood around, speedily increased by the presence of General Humbert
himself and his staff.
'He tells me, general,' said Madgett, 'that we are in the Bay of
Killala, a good and safe anchorage, and, during the southerly winds,
the best on all the coast.'
'What news has he from the shore?' asked Humbert sharply, as if the
care of the ship was a very secondary consideration.
'They have been expecting us with the greatest impatience, general;
he says the most intense anxiety for our coming is abroad.'
'What of the people themselves? Where are the national forces? Have
they any headquarters near this? Eh, what says he? What is that? Why
does he laugh?' asked Humbert, in impatient rapidity, as he watched the
changes in the peasant's face.
'He was laughing at the strange sound of a foreign language, so odd
and singular to his ears,' said Madgett; but for all his readiness, a
slight flushing of the cheek showed that he was ill at ease.
'Well, but what of the Irish forces? Where are they?'
For some minutes the dialogue continued in an animated strain
between the two; the vehement tone and gestures of each bespeaking what
sounded at least like altercation; and Madgett at last turned half
angrily away, saying, 'The fellow is too ignorant; he actually knows
nothing of what is passing before his eyes.'
[Illustration: 229]
'Is there no one else on board can speak this barargouinage?'
cried Humbert, in anger.
'Yes, general, I can interrogate him,' cried a young lad named
Conolly, who had only joined us on the day before we sailed.
And now as the youth addressed the fisherman in a few rapid
sentences, the other answered as quickly, making a gesture with his
hands that implied grief, or even despair.
'We can interpret that for ourselves,' broke in Humbert; 'he is
telling you that the game is up.'
'Exactly so, general; he says that the insurrection has been
completely put down, that the Irish forces are scattered or disbanded,
and all the leaders taken.'
'The fellow is just as likely to be an English spy,' said Madgett,
in a whisper; but Humbert's gesture of impatience showed how little
trust he reposed in the allegation.
'Ask him what English troops are quartered in this part of the
country,' said the general.
'A few militia, and two squadrons of dragoons,' was the prompt
reply.
'No artillery?'
'None.'
'Is there any rumour of our coming abroad, or have the frigates been
seen?' asked Humbert.
'They were seen last night from the church steeple of Killala,
general,' said Conolly, translating, 'but believed to be English.'
'Come; that is the best news he has brought us yet,' said Humbert,
laughing; 'we shall at least surprise them a little. Ask him what men
of rank or consequence live in the neighbourhood, and how are they
affected towards the expedition?'
A few words, and a low dry laugh, made all the peasant's reply.
'Eh, what says he?' asked Humbert.
'He says, sir, that, except a Protestant bishop, there's nothing of
the rank of gentry here.'
'I suppose we need scarcely expect his blessing on our efforts,'
said Humbert, with a hearty laugh. 'What is he saying now?what is he
looking at?'
'He says that we are now in the very best anchorage of the bay,'
said Conolly, 'and that on the whole coast there's not a safer spot.'
A brief consultation now took place between the general and naval
officers, and in a few seconds the word was given to take in all sail
and anchor.
'I wish I could speak to that honest fellow myself,' said Humbert,
as he stood watching the fisherman, who, with a peasant curiosity, had
now approached the mast, and was passing his fingers across the blades
of the cutlasses as they stood in the sword-rack.
'Sharp enough for the English, eh?' cried Humbert, in French, but
with a gesture that seemed at once intelligible. A dry nod of the head
gave assent to the remark.
'If I understand him aright,' said Humbert, in a half-whisper to
Conolly, 'we are as little expected by our friends as by our enemies;
and that there is little or no force in arms among the Irish.'
'There are plenty ready to fight, he says, sir, but none accustomed
to discipline.'
A gesture, half contemptuous, was all Humbert's reply, and he now
turned away and walked the deck alone and in silence. Meanwhile the
bustle and movements of the crew continued, and soon the great ships,
their sails all coiled, lay tranquilly at anchor in a sea without a
ripple.
'A boat is coming out from the shore, general,' whispered the
lieutenant on duty.
'Ask the fisherman if he knows it.'
Conolly drew the peasant's attention to the object, and the man,
after looking steadily for a few seconds, became terribly agitated.
'What is it, mancan't you tell who it is?' asked Conolly.
But although so composed before, so ready with all his replies, he
seemed now totally unmannedhis frank and easy features being struck
with the signs of palpable terror. At last, and with an effort that
bespoke all his fears, he muttered' 'Tis the king's boat is coming,
and 'tis the collector's on board of her!'
'Is that all?' cried Conolly, laughing, as he translated the reply
to the general.
'Won't you say that I'm a prisoner, sir; won't you tell them that
you took me?' said the fisherman, in an accent of fervent entreaty,
for already his mind anticipated the casualty of a failure, and what
might betide him afterwards; but no one now had any care for him or his
fortunesall was in preparation to conceal the national character of
the ships. The marines were ordered below, and all others whose
uniforms might betray their country, while the English colours floated
from every mast-head.
General Humbert, with Serasin and two others, remained on the
poop-deck, where they continued to walk, apparently devoid of any
peculiar interest or anxiety in the scene. Madgett alone betrayed
agitation at this moment, his pale face was paler than ever, and there
seemed to me a kind of studious care in the way he covered himself up
with his cloak, so that not a vestige of his uniform could be seen.
The boat now came close under our lee, and Conolly being ordered to
challenge her in English, the collector, standing up in the stern,
touched his hat, and announced his rank. The gangway-ladder was
immediately lowered, and three gentlemen ascended the ship's side and
walked aft to the poop. I was standing near the bulwark at the time,
watching the scene with intense interest. As General Humbert stood a
little in advance of the rest, the collector, probably taking him for
the captain, addressed him with some courteous expressions of welcome,
and was proceeding to speak of the weather, when the general gently
stopped him by asking if he spoke French.
I shall never forget the terror of face that question evoked. At
first, looking at his two companions, the collector turned his eyes to
the gaff, where the English flag was flying; but still unable to utter
a word, he stood like one entranced.
'You have been asked if you can speak French, sir?' said Conolly, at
a sign from the general.
'Novery littlevery badlynot at all; but isn't thisam I not
on board of'
'Can none of them speak French?' said Humbert shortly.
'Yes, sir,' said a young man on the collector's right; 'I can make
myself intelligible in that language, although no great proficient.'
'Who are you, monsieur?are you a civilian?' asked Humbert.
'Yes, sir. I am the son of the Bishop of Killala, and this young
gentleman is my brother.'
'What is the amount of the force in this neighbourhood?'
'You will pardon me, sir,' said the youth, 'if I ask, first, who it
is puts this question, and under what circumstances I am expected to
answer it.'
'All frank and open, sir,' said Humbert, good-humouredly. 'I 'm the
General Humbert, commanding the army for the liberation of Irelandso
much for your first question. As to your second one, I believe that if
you have any concern for yourself, or those belonging to you, you will
find that nothing will serve your interest so much as truth and plain
dealing.'
'Fortunately, then, for me,' said the youth, laughing, 'I cannot
betray my king's cause, for I know nothing, nothing whatever, about the
movement of troops. I seldom go ten miles from home, and have not been
even at Ballina since last winter.'
'Why so cautious about your information, then, sir,' broke in
Serasin roughly, 'since you have none to give?'
'Because I had some to receive, sir, and was curious to know where I
was standing,' said the young man boldly.
While these few sentences were being interchanged, Madgett had
learned from the collector that, except a few companies of militia and
fencibles, the country was totally unprovided with troops; but he also
learned that the people were so crest-fallen and subdued in courage
from the late failure of the rebellion, that it was very doubtful
whether our coming would arouse them to another effort. This
information, particularly the latter part of it, Madgett imparted to
Humbert at once, and I thought, by his manner, and the eagerness with
which he spoke, that he seemed to use all his powers to dissuade the
general from a landing; at least I overheard him more than once
say'Had we been farther north, sir-'
Humbert quickly stopped him by the words
'And what prevents us, when we have landed, sir, in extending our
line north'ard?the winds cannot surely master us, when we have our
feet on the sward. Enough of all this; let these gentlemen be placed in
security, and none have access to them without my orders. Make signal
for the commanding-officers to come on board here. We've had too much
of speculationa little action now will be more profitable.'
'So, we are prisoners, it seems!' said the young man who spoke
French, as he moved away with the others, who, far more depressed in
spirit, hung their heads in silence, as they descended between decks.
Scarcely was the signal for a council of war seen from the
mast-head, when the different boats might be descried stretching across
the bay with speed. And now all were assembled in General Humbert's
cabin whose rank and station in the service entitled them to the honour
of being consulted.
To such of us as held inferior 'grade,' the time passed tediously
enough as we paced the deck, now turning from the aspect of the silent
and seemingly uninhabited cliffs along shore to listen if no sign
betokened the breaking up of the council; nor were we without serious
fears that the expedition would be abandoned altogether. This suspicion
originated with some of the Irish themselves, who, however confident of
success, and boastful of their country's resources before we sailed,
now made no scruple of averring that everything was the exact reverse
of what they had stated, for that the people were dispirited, the
national forces disbanded, neither arms, money, nor organisation
anywherein fact, that a more hopeless scheme could not be thought of
than the attempt, and that its result could not fail to be defeat and
ruin to all concerned.
Shall I own that the bleak and lonely aspect of the hills along
shore, the dreary character of the landscape, the almost deathlike
stillness of the scene, aided these gloomy impressions, and made it
seem as if we were about to try our fortune on some desolate spot,
without one look of encouragement, or one word of welcome to greet us?
The sight of even an enemy's force would have been a relief to this
solitudethe stir and movement of a rival army would have given spirit
to our daring, and nerved our courage, but there was something
inexpressibly sad in this unbroken monotony.
A few tried to jest upon the idea of liberating a land that had no
inhabitantsthe emancipation of a country without people; but even
French flippancy failed to be witty on a theme so linked with all our
hopes and fears, and at last a dreary silence fell upon all, and we
walked the deck without speaking, waiting and watching for the result
of that deliberation which already had lasted above four mortal hours.
Twice was the young man who spoke French summoned to the cabin, but,
from the briefness of his stay, apparently with little profit; and now
the day began to wane, and the tall cliffs threw their lengthened
shadows over the still waters of the bay, and yet nothing was resolved
on. To the quiet and respectful silence of expectation, now succeeded a
low and half-subdued muttering of discontent; groups of five or six
together were seen along the deck, talking with eagerness and
animation, and it was easy to see that whatever prudential or cautious
reasons dictated to the leaders, their arguments found little sympathy
with the soldiers of the expedition. I almost began to fear that if a
determination to abandon the exploit were come to, a mutiny might break
out, when my attention was drawn off by an order to accompany Colonel
Gharost on shore to reconnoitre. This at least looked like business,
and I jumped into the small boat with alacrity.
With the speed of four oars stoutly plied, we skimmed along the calm
surface, and soon saw ourselves close in to the shore. Some little time
was spent in looking for a good place to land, for although not the
slightest air of wind was blowing, the long swell of the Atlantic broke
upon the rocks with a noise like thunder. At last we shot into a little
creek with a shelving gravelly beach, and completely concealed by the
tall rocks on every side; and now we sprang out, and stood upon Irish
ground!
CHAPTER XIX. A RECONNAISSANCE
From the little creek where we landed, a small zigzag path led up
the sides of the cliff, the track by which the peasants carried the
sea-weed which they gathered for manure, and up this we now slowly
wended our way.
Stopping for some time to gaze at the ample bay beneath us, the
tall-masted frigates floating so majestically on its glassy surfaceit
was a scene of tranquil and picturesque beauty with which it would have
been almost impossible to associate the idea of war and invasion. In
the lazy bunting that hung listlessly from peak and mast-headin the
cheerful voices of the sailors, heard afar off in the stillnessin the
measured plash of the sea itself, and the fearless daring of the
sea-gulls, as they soared slowly above our headsthere seemed
something so suggestive of peace and tranquillity, that it struck us as
profanation to disturb it.
As we gained the top and looked around us, our astonishment became
even greater. A long succession of low hills, covered with tall ferns
or heath, stretched away on every side; not a house, nor a hovel, nor a
living thing to be seen. Had the country been one uninhabited since the
Creation, it could not have presented an aspect of more thorough
desolation! No road-track, nor even a footpath, led through the dreary
waste before us, on which, to all seeming, the foot of man had never
fallen. And as we stood for some moments, uncertain which way to turn,
a sense of the ridiculous suddenly burst upon the party, and we all
broke into a hearty roar of laughter.
'I little thought,' cried Charost, 'that I should ever emulate La
Perouse, but it strikes me that I am destined to become a great
discoverer.'
'How so, colonel?' asked his aide-de-camp.
'Why, it is quite clear that this same island is uninhabited; and if
it be all like this, I own I'm scarcely surprised at it.'
'Still, there must be a town not far off, and the residence of that
bishop we heard of this morning.'
A half-incredulous shrug of the shoulders was all his reply, as he
sauntered along with his hands behind his back, apparently lost in
thought; while we, as if instinctively partaking of his gloom, followed
him in total silence.
'Do you know, gentlemen, what I'm thinking?' said he, stopping
suddenly and facing about. 'My notion is, that the best thing to do
here would be to plant our tricolour, proclaim the land a colony of
France, and take to our boats again.'
This speech, delivered with an air of great gravity, imposed upon us
for an instant; but the moment after, the speaker breaking into a
hearty laugh, we all joined him, as much amused by the strangeness of
our situation, as by anything in his remark.
'We never could bring our guns through a soil like this, colonel,'
said the aide-de-camp, as he struck his heel into the soft and clayey
surface.
'If we could ever land them at all!' muttered he, half aloud; then
added, 'But for what object should we? Believe me, gentlemen, if we are
to have a campaign here, bows and arrows are the true weapons.'
'Ah! what do I see yonder?' cried the aide-de-camp; 'are not those
sheep feeding in that little glen?'
'Yes,' cried I, 'and a man herding them, too. See, the fellow has
caught sight of us, and he's off as fast as his legs can carry him.'
And so was it: the man had no sooner seen us than he sprang to his feet
and hurried down the mountain at full speed.
Our first impulse was to follow and give him chase, and even without
a word we all started off in pursuit; but we soon saw how fruitless
would be the attempt, for, even independent of the start he had got of
us, the peasant's speed was more than the double of our own.
'No matter,' said the colonel, 'if we have lost the shepherd we have
at least gained the sheep, and so I recommend you to secure mutton for
dinner to-morrow.'
With this piece of advice, down the hill he darted as hard as he
could; Briolle, the aide-de-camp, and myself following at our best
pace. We were reckoning without our host, however, for the animals,
after one stupid stare at us, set off in a scamper that soon showed
their mountain breeding, keeping all together like a pack of hounds,
and really not very inferior in the speed they displayed.
A little gorge led between the hills, and through this they rushed
madly, and with a clatter like a charge of cavalry. Excited by the
chase, and emulous each to outrun the other, the colonel threw off his
shako, and Briolle his sword, in the ardour of pursuit. We now gained
on them rapidly, and though, from a winding in the glen, they had
momentarily got out of sight, we knew that we were close upon them. I
was about thirty paces in advance of my comrades, when, on turning an
angle of the gorge, I found myself directly in front of a group of mud
hovels, near which were standing about a dozen ragged,
miserable-looking men, armed with pitchforks and scythes, while in the
rear stood the sheep, blowing and panting from the chase.
I came to a dead stop; and although I would have given worlds to
have had my comrades at my side, I never once looked back to see if
they were coming; but, putting a bold face on the matter, called out
the only few words I knew of Irish, 'Go de-mat ha tu.'
The peasants looked at each other; and whether it was my accent, my
impudence, or my strange dress and appearance, or altogether, I cannot
say, but after a few seconds' pause they burst out into a roar of
laughter, in the midst of which my two comrades came up.
'We saw the sheep feeding on the hills yonder,' said I, recovering
self-possession, 'and guessed that by giving them chase they'd lead us
to some inhabited spot. What is this place called?'
'Shindrennin,' said a man who seemed to be the chief of the party;
'and, if I might make so bould, who are you, yourselves?'
'French officers; this is my colonel,' said I, pointing to Charost,
who was wiping his forehead and face after his late exertion.
The information, far from producing the electric effect of pleasure
I had anticipated, was received with a coldness almost amounting to
fear, and they spoke eagerly together for some minutes in Irish.
'Our allies evidently don't like the look of us,' said Charost,
laughing;' and if the truth must be told, I own the disappointment is
mutual.'
'Tis too late you come, sir,' said the peasant, addressing the
colonel, while he removed his hat, and assumed an air of respectful
deference. ''Tis all over with poor Ireland this time.'
'Tell him,' said Charost, to whom I translated the speech, 'that
it's never too late to assert a good cause; that we have got arms for
twenty thousand, if they have but hands and hearts to use them. Tell
him that a French army is now lying in that bay yonder, ready and able
to accomplish the independence of Ireland.'
I delivered my speech as pompously as it was briefed to me; and
although I was listened to in silence, and respectfully, it was plain
my words carried little or no conviction with them. Not caring to waste
more of our time in such discourse, I now inquired about the
countryin what directions lay the highroads, and the relative
situations of the towns of Killala, Gastlebar, and Ballina, the only
places of comparative importance in the neighbourhood. I next asked
about the landing-places, and learned that a small fishing-harbour
existed, not more than half a mile from the spot where we had landed,
from which a little country road lay to the village of Palmerstown. As
to the means of transporting baggage, guns, and ammunition, there were
few horses to be had, but with money we might get all we wanted;
indeed, the peasants constantly referred to this means of success, even
to asking 'What the French would give a man that was to join them?' If
I did not translate the demand with fidelity to my colonel, it was
really that a sense of shame prevented me. My whole heart was in the
cause; and I could not endure the thought of its being degraded in this
way. It was growing duskish, and the colonel proposed that the peasant
should show us the way to the fishing-harbour he spoke of, while some
other of the party might go round to our boat, and direct them to
follow us thither. The arrangement was soon made, and we all sauntered
down towards the shore, chatting over the state of the country, and the
chances of a successful rising. From the specimen before me, I was not
disposed to be over sanguine about the peasantry. The man was evidently
disaffected towards England. He bore her neither good-will nor love,
but his fears were greater than all else. He had never heard of
anything but failure in all attempts against her, and he could not
believe in any other result. Even the aid and alliance of France
inspired no other feeling than distrust, for he said more than once,
'Sure what can harm yez? Haven't ye yer ships beyant, to take yez away,
if things goes bad?'
I was heartily glad that Colonel Charost knew so little English,
that the greater part of the peasant's conversation was unintelligible
to him, since, from the first, he had always spoken of the expedition
in terms of disparagement; and certainly what we were now to hear was
not of a nature to controvert the prediction.
In our ignorance as to the habits and modes of thought of the
people, we were much surprised at the greater interest the peasant
betrayed when asking us about France and her prospects, than when the
conversation concerned his own country. It appeared as though, in the
one case, distance gave grandeur and dimensions to all his conceptions,
while familiarity with home scenes and native politics had robbed them
of all their illusions. He knew well that there were plenty of
hardships, abundance of evils, to deplore in Ireland: rents were high,
taxes and tithes oppressive, agents were severe, bailiffs were cruel
Social wrongs he could discuss for hours, but of political woes, the
only ones we could be expected to relieve or care for, he really knew
nothing. ''Tis true,' he repeated, 'that what my honour said was all
right, Ireland was badly treated,' and so on; 'liberty was an elegant
thing if a body had it,' and such like; but there ended his patriotism.
Accustomed for many a day to the habits of a people where all were
politicians, where the rights of man and the grand principles of
equality and self-government were everlastingly under discussion, I
was, I confess it, sorely disappointed at this worse than apathy.
'Will they fight?ask him that,' said Gharost, to whom I had been
conveying a rather rose-coloured version of my friend's talk.
'Oh, begorra! we 'll fight sure enough!' said he, with a half-dogged
scowl beneath his brows.
'What number of them may we reckon on in the neighbourhood?'
repeated the colonel.
''Tis mighty hard to say; many of the boys were gone over to England
for the harvest; some were away to the counties inland, others were
working on the roads; but if they knew, sure they 'd be soon back
again.'
'Might they calculate on a thousand stout, effective men?' asked
Charost.
'Ay, twenty, if they were at home,' said the peasant, less a liar by
intention than from the vague and careless disregard of truth so common
in all their own intercourse with each other.
I must own that the degree of credit we reposed in the worthy man's
information was considerably influenced by the state of facts before
us, inasmuch as that the 'elegant, fine harbour' he had so gloriously
described'the beautiful road''the neat little quay' to land upon,
and the other advantages of the spot, all turned out to be most
grievous disappointments. That the people were not of our own mind on
these matters, was plain enough from the looks of astonishment our
discontent provoked; and now a lively discussion ensued on the relative
merits of various bays, creeks, and inlets along the coast, each of
which, with some unpronounceable name or other, was seen to have a
special advocate in its favour, till at last the colonel lost all
patience, and jumping into the boat, ordered the men to push off for
the frigate.
Evidently out of temper at the non-success of his reconnaissance,
and as little pleased with the country as the people, Gharost did not
speak a word as we rowed back to the ship. Our failure, as it happened,
was of little moment, for another party, under the guidance of Madgett,
had already discovered a good landing-place at the bottom of the Bay of
Rathfran, and arrangements were already in progress to disembark the
troops at daybreak. We also found that, during our absence, some of the
'chiefs' had come off from shore, one of whom, named Neal Kerrigan, was
destined to attain considerable celebrity in the rebel army. He was a
talkative, vulgar, presumptuous fellow, who, without any knowledge or
experience whatever, took upon him to discuss military measures and
strategy with all the assurance of an old commander.
Singularly enough, Humbert suffered this man to influence him in a
great degree, and yielded opinion to him on points even where his own
judgment was directly opposed to the advice he gave.
If Kerrigan's language and bearing were directly the reverse of
soldierlike, his tawdry uniform of green and gold, with massive
epaulettes and a profusion of lace, were no less absurd in our eyes,
accustomed as we were to the almost puritan plainness of military
costume. His rank, too, seemed as undefined as his information; for
while he called himself 'General,' his companions as often addressed
him by the title of 'Captain.' Upon some points his counsels, indeed,
alarmed and astonished us.
'It was of no use whatever,' he said, 'to attempt to discipline the
peasantry, or reduce them to anything like habits of military
obedience. Were the effort to be made, it would prove a total failure;
for they would either grow disgusted with the restraint, and desert
altogether, or so infect the other troops with their own habits of
disorder, that the whole force would become a mere rabble. Arm them
well, let them have plenty of ammunition, and free liberty to use it in
their own way and their own time, and we should soon see that they
would prove a greater terror to the English than double the number of
trained and disciplined troops.'
In some respects this view was a correct one; but whether it was a
wise counsel to have followed, subsequent events gave us ample cause to
doubt.
Kerrigan, however, had a specious, reckless, go-a-head way with him
that suited well the tone and temper of Humbert's mind. He never looked
too far into consequences, but trusted that the eventualities of the
morrow would always suggest the best course for the day after; and this
alone was so akin to our own general's mode of proceeding, that he
speedily won his confidence.
The last evening on board was spent merrily on all sides. In the
general cabin, where the staff and all the chefs de brigade were
assembled, gay songs, and toasts, and speeches succeeded each other
till nigh morning. The printed proclamations, meant for circulation
among the people, were read out, with droll commentaries; and all
imaginable quizzing and jesting went on about the new government to be
established in Ireland, and the various offices to be bestowed upon
each. Had the whole expedition been a joke, the tone of levity could
not have been greater. Not a thought was bestowed, not a word wasted,
upon any of the graver incidents that might ensue. All were, if not
hopeful and sanguine, utterly reckless, and thoroughly indifferent to
the future.
CHAPTER XX. KILLALA
I will not weary my reader with an account of our debarkation, less
remarkable as it was for the 'pomp and circumstance of war' than for
incidents and accidents the most absurd and ridiculousthe miserable
boats of the peasantry, the still more wretched cattle employed to drag
our artillery and train-waggons, involving us in innumerable
misfortunes and mischances. Never were the heroic illusions of war more
thoroughly dissipated than by the scenes which accompanied our landing!
Boats and baggage-waggons upset; here, a wild, half savage-looking
fellow swimming after a cocked-hatthere, a group of ragged wretches
scraping sea-weed from a dripping officer of the staff; noise, uproar,
and confusion everywhere; smart aides-de-camp mounted on donkeys; trim
field-pieces 'horsed' by a promiscuous assemblage of men, women, cows,
ponies, and asses. Crowds of idle country-people thronged the little
quay, and, obstructing the passages, gazed upon the whole with eyes of
wonderment and surprise, but evidently enjoying all the drollery of the
scene with higher relish than they felt interest in its object or
success. This trait in them soon attracted all our notice, for they
laughed at everything: not a caisson tumbled into the sea, not a donkey
brought his rider to the ground, but one general shout shook the entire
assemblage.
If want and privation had impressed themselves by every external
sign on this singular people, they seemed to possess inexhaustible
resources of good-humour and good spirits within. No impatience or
rudeness on our part could irritate them; and even to the wildest and
least civilised-looking fellow around, there was a kind of native
courtesy and kindliness that could not fail to strike us.
A vague notion prevailed that we were their 'friends'; and although
many of them did not clearly comprehend why we had come, or what was
the origin of the warm attachment between us, they were too lazy and
too indifferent to trouble their heads about the matter. They were
satisfied that there would be a 'shindy' somewhere, and somebody's
bones would get broken, and even that much was a pleasant and
reassuring consideration; while others of keener mould revelled in
plans of private vengeance against this landlord or that agentsmall
debts of hatred to be paid off in the day of general reckoning.
From the first moment nothing could exceed the tone of fraternal
feeling between our soldiers and the people. Without any means of
communicating their thoughts by speech, they seemed to acquire an
instinctive knowledge of each other in an instant. If the peasant was
poor, there was no limit to his liberality in the little he had. He dug
up his half-ripe potatoes, he unroofed his cabin to furnish straw for
litter, he gave up his only beast, and was ready to kill his cow, if
asked, to welcome us. Much of this was from the native, warm, and
impulsive generosity of their nature, and much, doubtless, had its
origin in the bright hopes of future recompense inspired by the
eloquent appeals of Neal Kerrigan, who, mounted on an old white mare,
rode about on every side, addressing the people in Irish, and calling
upon them to give all aid and assistance to 'the expedition.'
The difficulty of the landing was much increased by the small space
of level ground which intervened between the cliffs and the sea, and of
which now the thickening crowd filled every spot. This and the
miserable means of conveyance for our baggage delayed us greatly, so
that, with a comparatively small force, it was late in the afternoon
before we had all reached the shore.
We had none of us eaten since morning, and were not sorry, as we
crowned the heights, to hear the drums beat for 'cooking.' In an
inconceivably short, time fires blazed along the hills, around which,
in motley groups, stood soldiers and peasantry mingled together, while
the work of cooking and eating went briskly on, amid hearty laughter
and all the merriment that mutual mistakes and misconceptions
occasioned. It was a new thing for French soldiers to bivouac in a
friendly country, and find themselves the welcome guests of a foreign
people; and certainly, the honours of hospitality, however limited the
means, could not have been performed with more of courtesy or
good-will. Paddy gave his 'all,' with a generosity that might have
shamed many a richer donor.
While the events I have mentioned were going forward, and a
considerable crowd of fishermen and peasants had gathered about us,
still it was remarkable that, except immediately on the coast itself,
no suspicion of our arrival had gained currency, and even the
country-people who lived a mile from the shore did not know who we
were. The few who, from distant heights and headlands, had seen the
ships, mistook them for English, and as all those who were out with
fish or vegetables to sell were detained by the frigates, any direct
information about us was impossible. So far, therefore, all might be
said to have gone most favourably with us. We had safely escaped the
often-menaced dangers of the Channel fleet; we had gained a secure and
well-sheltered harbour; and we had landed our force not only without
opposition, but in perfect secrecy. There were, I will not deny,
certain little counterbalancing circumstances on the other side of the
account not exactly so satisfactory. The patriot forces upon which we
had calculated had no existence. There were neither money, nor stores,
nor means of conveyance to be had; even accurate information as to the
strength and position of the English was unattainable; and as to
generals and leaders, the effective staff had but a most sorry
representative in the person of Neal Kerrigan. This man's influence
over our general increased with every hour, and one of the first orders
issued after our landing contained his appointment as an extra
aide-de-camp on General Humbert's staff.
In one capacity Neal was most useful. All the available sources of
pillage for a wide circuit of country he knew by heart, and it was
plain, from the accurate character of his information, varying, as it
did, from the chattels of the rich landed proprietor to the cocks and
hens of the cottier, that he had taken great pains to master his
subject. At his suggestion it was decided that we should march that
evening on Killala, where little or more likely no resistance would be
met with, and General Humbert should take up his quarters in the
'Castle,' as the palace of the bishop was styled. There, he said, we
should not only find ample accommodation for the staff, but good
stabling, well filled, and plenty of forage, while the bishop himself
might be a most useful hostage to have in our keeping. From thence,
too, as a place of some note, general orders and proclamations would
issue, with a kind of notoriety and importance necessary at the outset
of an undertaking like ours; and truly never was an expedition more
loaded with this species of missive than ourswhole cart-loads of
printed papers, decrees, placards, and such like, followed us. If our
object had been to drive out the English by big type and a flaming
letterpress, we could not have gone more vigorously to work. Fifty
thousand broadsheet announcements of Irish independence were backed by
as many proud declarations of victory, some dated from Limerick,
Cashel, or Dublin itself.
Here, a great placard gave the details of the new Provincial
Government of Western Ireland, with the name of the 'Prefect' a blank.
There was another, containing the police regulations for the
'arrondissements' of Connaught, 'et ses dépendances.' Every imaginable
step of conquest and occupation was anticipated and provided for in
these wise and considerate protocols, from the 'enthusiastic welcome of
the French on the western coast' to the hour of 'General Humbert's
triumphal entry into Dublin!' Nor was it prose alone, but even poetry
did service in our cause. Songs, not, I own, conspicuous for any great
metrical beauty, commemorated our battles and our bravery; so that we
entered upon the campaign as deeply pledged to victory as any force I
ever heard or read of in history.
Neal, who was, I believe, originally a schoolmaster, had great
confidence in this arsenal of 'black and white,' and soon persuaded
General Humbert that a bold face and a loud tongue would do more in
Ireland than in any country under heaven; and, indeed, if his own
career might be called a success, the theory deserved some
consideration. A great part of our afternoon was then spent in
distributing these documents to the people, not one in a hundred of
whom could read, but who treasured the placards with a reverence
nothing diminished by their ignorance. Emissaries, too, were appointed
to post them up in conspicuous places through the country, on the doors
of the chapels, at the smiths' forges, at cross-roadseverywhere, in
short, where they might attract notice. The most important and
business-like of all these, however, was one headed 'Arms!''Arms!'
and which went on to say that no man who wished to lift his hand for
old Ireland need do so without a weapon, and that a general
distribution of guns, swords, and bayonets would take place at noon the
following day at the Palace of Killala.
Serasint and, I believe, Madgett, were strongly opposed to this
indiscriminate arming of the people; but Neal's counsels were now in
the ascendant, and Humbert gave an implicit confidence to all he
suggested.
It was four o'clock in the evening when the word to march was given,
and our gallant little force began its advance movement. Still attached
to Colonel Charost's staff, and being, as chasseurs, in the advance, I
had a good opportunity of seeing the line of march from an eminence
about half a mile in front. Grander and more imposing displays I have
indeed often witnessed. As a great military 'spectacle' it could not,
of course, be compared with those mighty armies I had seen deploying
through the defiles of the Black Forest, or spreading like a sea over
the wide plain of Germany; but in purely picturesque effect, this scene
surpassed all I had ever beheld at the time, nor do I think that, in
after-life, I can recall one more striking.
The winding road, which led over hill and valley, now disappearing,
now emerging, with the undulations of the soil, was covered by troops
marching in a firm, compact orderthe grenadiers in front, after which
came the artillery, and then the regiments of the line. Watching the
dark column, occasionally saluting it as it went with a cheer, stood
thousands of country-people on every hill-top and eminence, while far
away in the distance the frigates lay at anchor in the bay, the guns at
intervals thundering out a solemn 'boom' of welcome and encouragement
to their comrades.
There was something so heroic in the notion of that little band of
warriors throwing themselves fearlessly into a strange land, to contest
its claim for liberty with one of the most powerful nations of the
world; there was a character of daring intrepidity in this bold
advance, they knew not whither, nor against what force, that gave the
whole an air of glorious chivalry.
I must own that distance lent its wonted illusion to the scene, and
proximity, like its twin-brother familiarity, destroyed much of the
prestige my fancy had conjured up. The line of march, so imposing when
seen from afar, was neither regular nor well kept. The peasantry were
permitted to mingle with the troops; ponies, mules, and asses, loaded
with camp-kettles and cooking-vessels, were to be met with everywhere.
The baggage-waggons were crowded with officers and sous-officiers
who, disappointed in obtaining horses, were too indolent to walk. Even
the gun-carriages, and the guns themselves, were similarly loaded,
while, at the head of the infantry column, in an old rickety gig, the
ancient mail conveyance between Ballina and the coast, came General
Humbert, Neal Kerrigan capering at his side on the old grey, whose
flanks were now tastefully covered by the tricolour ensign of one of
the boats as a saddle-cloth.
This nearer and less enchanting prospect of my gallant comrades I
was enabled to obtain on being despatched to the rear by Colonel
Charost, to say that we were now within less than a mile of the town of
Killala, its venerable steeple and the tall chimneys of the palace
being easily seen above the low hills in front. Neal Kerrigan passed me
as I rode back with my message, galloping to the front with all the
speed he could muster; but while I was talking to the general he came
back to say that the beating of drums could be heard from the town, and
that by the rapid movements here and there of people, it was evident
the defence was being prepared. There was a lookout, too, from the
steeple, that showed our approach was already known. The general was
not slow in adopting his measures, and the word was given for
quick-march, the artillery to deploy right and left of the road, two
companies of grenadiers forming on the flanks. 'As for you, sir,' said
Humbert to me, 'take that horse,' pointing to a mountain pony, fastened
behind the gig, 'ride forward to the town, and make a reconnaissance.
You are to report to me,' cried he, as I rode away, and was soon out of
hearing.
Quitting the road, I took a foot-track across the fields, and which
the pony seemed to know well, and after a sharp canter reached a small,
poor suburb of the town, if a few straggling wretched cabins can
deserve the name. A group of countrymen stood in the middle of the
road, about fifty yards in front of me; and while I was deliberating
whether to advance or retire, a joyous cry of 'Hurrah for the French!'
decided me, and I touched my cap in salute and rode forward.
Other groups saluted me with a similar cheer, as I went on; and now
windows were flung open, and glad cries and shouts of welcome rang out
from every side. These signs were too encouraging to turn my back upon,
so I dashed forward through a narrow street in front, and soon found
myself in a kind of square or 'Place,' the doors and windows of which
were all closed, and not a human being to be seen anywhere. As I
hesitated what next to do, I saw a soldier in a red coat rapidly turn
the corner'What do you want here, you spy?' he cried out in a loud
voice, and at the same instant his bullet rang past my ear with a
whistle. I drove in the spurs at once, and just as he had gained a
doorway, I clove his head open with my sabrehe fell dead on the spot
before me. Wheeling my horse round, I now rode back, as I had come, at
full speed, the same welcome cries accompanying me as before.
Short as had been my absence, it was sufficient to have brought the
advanced guard close up with the town; and just as I emerged from the
little suburb, a quick, sharp firing drew my attention towards the left
of the wall, and there I saw our fellows advancing at a trot, while
about twenty red-coats were in full flight before them, the wild cries
of the country-people following them as they went.
I had but time to see thus much, and to remark that two or three
English prisoners were taken, when the general came up. He had now
abandoned the gig, and was mounted on a large, powerful black horse,
which I afterwards learned was one of the bishop's. My tidings were
soon told, and, indeed, but indifferently attended to, for it was
evident enough that the place was our own.
'This way, generalfollow me,' cried Kerrigan. 'If the light
companies will take the road down to the Acres, they'll catch the
yeomen as they retreat by that way, and we have the town our own.'
The counsel was speedily adopted; and although a dropping fire here
and there showed that some slight resistance was still being made, it
was plain enough that all real opposition was impossible.
'Forward!' was now the word; and the chasseurs, with their muskets
'in sling,' advanced at a trot up the main street. At a little distance
the grenadiers followed, and, debouching into the square, were received
by an ill-directed volley from a few of the militia, who took to their
heels after they fired. Three or four red-coats were killed, but the
remainder made their escape through the churchyard, and, gaining the
open country, scattered and fled as best they could.
Humbert, who had seen war on a very different scale, could not help
laughing at the absurdity of the skirmish, and was greatly amused with
the want of all discipline and 'accord' exhibited by the English
troops.
'I foresee, gentlemen,' said he jocularly, 'that we may have
abundance of success, but gain very little glory, in the same campaign.
Now for a blessing upon our labourswhere shall we find our friend the
bishop?'
'This way, general,' cried Neal, leading down a narrow street, at
the end of which stood a high wall, with an iron gate. This was locked,
and some efforts at barricading it showed the intention of a defence;
but a few strokes of a pioneer s hammer smashed the lock, and we
entered a kind of pleasure-ground, neatly and trimly kept. We had not
advanced many paces when the bishop, followed by a great number of his
clergyfor it happened to be the period of his annual visitationcame
forward to meet us.
Humbert dismounted, and removing his chapeau, saluted the dignitary
with a most finished courtesy. I could see, too, by his gesture, that
he presented General Serasin, the second in command; and, in fact, all
his motions were those of a well-bred guest at the moment of being
received by his host. Nor was the bishop, on his side, wanting either
in ease or dignity; his manner, not without the appearance of deep
sorrow, was yet that of a polished gentleman doing the honours of his
house to a number of strangers.
As I drew nearer I could hear that the bishop spoke French fluently,
but with a strong foreign accent. This facility, however, enabled him
to converse with ease on every subject, and to hold intercourse
directly with our general, a matter of no small moment to either party.
It is probable that the other clergy did not possess this gift, for
assuredly their manner towards us inferiors of the staff was neither
gracious nor conciliating; and as for myself, the few efforts I made to
express, in English, my admiration for the coast scenery, or the
picturesque beauty of the neighbourhood, were met in any rather than a
spirit of politeness.
The generals accompanied the bishop into the castle, leaving myself
and three or four others on the outside. Colonel Charost soon made his
appearance, and a guard was stationed at the entrance gate, with a
strong picket in the garden. Two sentries were placed at the hall door,
and the words 'Quartier Général' written up over the portico. A small
garden pavilion was appropriated to the colonel's use, and made the
office of the adjutant-general, and in less than half an hour after our
arrival, eight sous-officiers were hard at work under the trees,
writing away at billets, contribution orders, and forage rations; while
I, from my supposed fluency in English, was engaged in carrying
messages to and from the staff to the various shopkeepers and tradesmen
of the town, numbers of whom now flocked around us with expressions of
welcome and rejoicing.
CHAPTER XXI. OUR ALLIES
I have spent pleasanter, but I greatly doubt if I ever knew busier
days, than those I passed at the Bishop's Palace at Killala; and now,
as I look upon the event, I cannot help wondering that we could
seriously have played out a farce so full of absurdity and nonsense!
There was a gross mockery of all the usages of war, which, had it not
been for the serious interests at stake, would have been highly
amusing.
Whether it was the important functions of civil government, the
details of police regulation, the imposition of contributions, the
appointment of officers, or the arming of the volunteers, all was done
with a pretentious affectation of order that was extremely ludicrous.
The very institutions which were laughingly agreed to overnight, as the
wine went briskly round, were solemnly ratified in the morning, and,
still more strange, apparently believed in by those whose ingenuity
devised them; and thus the 'Irish Directory,' as we styled the
imaginary government, the National Treasury, the Pension Fund, were
talked of with all the seriousness of facts! As to the commissariat, to
which I was for the time attached, we never ceased writing receipts and
acknowledgments for stores and munitions of war, all of which were to
be honourably acquitted by the Treasury of the Irish Republic.
No people could have better fallen in with the humour of this
delusion than the Irish. They seemed to believe everything, and yet
there was a reckless, headlong indifference about them, which appeared
to say, that they were equally prepared for any turn fortune might
take, and if the worst should happen, they would never reproach us for
having misled them. The real truth wasbut we only learned it too
lateall those who joined us were utterly indifferent to the great
cause of Irish independence; their thoughts never rose above a row and
a pillage. It was to be a season of sack, plunder, and outrage, but
nothing more! That such were the general sentiments of the volunteers,
I believe none will dispute. We, however, in our ignorance of the
people and their language, interpreted all the harum-scarum wildness we
saw as the buoyant temperament of a high-spirited nation, who, after
centuries of degradation and ill-usage, saw the dawning of liberty at
last.
Had we possessed any real knowledge of the country, we should at
once have seen that, of those who joined us, none were men of any
influence or station. If, now and then, a man of any name strayed into
the camp, he was sure to be one whose misconduct or bad character had
driven him from associating with his equals; and, even of the
peasantry, our followers were of the very lowest order. Whether General
Humbert was the first to notice the fact, I know not; but Charost, I am
certain, remarked it, and even thus early predicted the utter failure
of the expedition.
I must confess the volunteers were the least imposing of allies. I
think I have the whole scene before my eyes this moment, as I saw it
each morning in the palace garden.
The inclosure, which, more orchard than garden, occupied a space of
a couple of acres, was the headquarters of Colonel Charost; and here,
in a pavilion formerly dedicated to hoes, rakes, rolling-stones, and
garden-tools, we were now established to the number of fourteen. As the
space beneath the roof was barely sufficient for the colonel's personal
use, the officers of his staff occupied convenient spots in the
vicinity. My station was under a large damson-tree, the fruit of which
afforded me, more than once, the only meal I tasted from early morning
till late at night; not, I must say, from any lack of provisions, for
the palace abounded with every requisite of the table, but that, such
was the pressure of business, we were not able to leave off work even
for half an hour during the day.
A subaltern's guard of grenadiers, divided into small parties, did
duty in the garden; and it was striking to mark the contrast between
these bronzed and war-worn figures, and the reckless tatterdemalion
host around us. Never was seen such a scarecrow set! Wild-looking,
ragged wretches, their long lank hair hanging down their necks and
shoulders, usually barefooted, and with every sign of starvation in
their features; they stood in groups and knots, gesticulating,
screaming, hurrahing, and singing, in all the exuberance of a joy that
caught some, at least, of its inspiration from whisky.
It was utterly vain to attempt to keep order amongst them; even the
effort to make them defile singly through the gate into the garden was
soon found impracticable, without the employment of a degree of force
that our adviser, Kerrigan, pronounced would be injudicious. Not only
the men made their way in, but great numbers of women, and even
children also; and there they were, seated around fires, roasting their
potatoes in this bivouac fashion, as though they had deserted hearth
and home to follow us.
Such was the avidity to get armsof which the distribution was
announced to take place herethat several had scaled the wall in their
impatience, and as they were more or less in drink, some disastrous
accidents were momentarily occurring, adding the cries and exclamations
of suffering to the ruder chorus of joy and revelry that went on
unceasingly.
The impressionwe soon saw how absurd it wasthe impression that
we should do nothing that might hurt the national sensibilities, but
concede all to the exuberant ardour of a bold people, eager to be led
against their enemies, induced us to submit to every imaginable breach
of order and discipline.
'In a day or two, they 'll he like your own men; you 'll not know
them from a battalion of the line. Those fellows will be like a wall
under fire.'
Such and such like were the assurances we were listening to all day,
and it would have been like treason to the cause to have refused them
credence.
Perhaps I might have been longer a believer in this theory, had I
not perceived signs of a deceptive character in these our worthy
allies; many who, to our faces, wore nothing but looks of gratitude and
delight, no sooner mixed with their fellows than their downcast faces
and dogged expression betrayed some inward sense of disappointment.
One very general source of dissatisfaction arose from the discovery,
that we were not prepared to pay our allies! We had simply come to arm
and lead them, to shed our own blood, and pledge our fortunes in their
cause; but we certainly had brought no military chest to bribe their
patriotism, nor stimulate their nationality; and this I soon saw was a
grievous disappointment.
In virtue of this shameful omission on our part, they deemed the
only resource was to be made officers, and thus crowds of uneducated,
semi-civilised vagabonds were every hour assailing us with their claims
to the epaulette. Of the whole number of these, I remember but three
who had ever served at all; two were notorious drunkards, and the third
a confirmed madman, from a scalp wound he had received when fighting
against the Turks. Many, however, boasted high-sounding names, and
were, at least so Kerrigan said, men of the first families in the land.
Our general-in-chief saw little of them while at Killala, his
principal intercourse being with the bishop and his family; but Colonel
Charost soon learned to read their true character, and from that moment
conceived the most disastrous issue to our plans. The most trustworthy
of them was a certain O'Donnell, who, although not a soldier, was
remarked to possess a greater influence over the rabble volunteers than
any of the others. He was a young man of the half-squire class, an
ardent and sincere patriot, after his fashion; but that fashion, it
must be owned, rather partook of the character of class-hatred and
religious animosity than the features of a great struggle for national
independence. He took a very low estimate of the fighting qualities of
his countrymen, and made no secret of declaring it.
'You would be better without them altogether,' said he one day to
Charost; 'but if you must have allies, draw them up in line, select
one-third of the best, and arm them.'
'And the rest?' asked Charost. 'Shoot them,' was the answer.
This conversation is on recordindeed, I believe there is yet one
witness living to corroborate it.
I have said that we were very hard worked, but I must fain
acknowledge that the real amount of business done was very
insignificant, so many were the mistakes, misconceptions, and
interruptions, not to speak of the time lost by that system of
conciliation of which I have already made mention. In our distribution
of arms there was little selection practised or possible. The process
was a brief one, but it might have been briefer.
Thomas Colooney, of Banmayroo, was called, and not usually being
present, the name would be passed on, from post to post, till it
swelled into a general shout of Colooney.
'Tom Colooney, you're wanted; Tom, run for it, man, there's a price
bid for you! Here's Mickey, his brother, maybe he 'll do as well.'
And so on: all this accompanied by shouts of laughter, and a running
fire of jokes, which, being in the vernacular, was lost to us.
At last the real Colooney was found, maybe eating his dinner of
potatoes, maybe discussing his poteen with a friend-sometimes engaged
in the domestic duties of washing his shirt or his small-clothes,
fitting a new crown to his hat, or a sole to his brogueswhatever his
occupation, he was urged forward by his friends and the public, with
many a push, drive, and even a kick, into our presence, where, from the
turmoil, uproar, and confusion, he appeared to have fought his way by
main force, and very often, indeed, this was literally the fact, as his
bleeding nose, torn coat, and bare head attested.
'Thomas Colooneyare you the man?' asked one of our Irish officers
of the staff.
'Yis, yer honour, I 'm that same!'
'You've come here, Colooney, to offer yourself as a volunteer in the
cause of your country?'
Here a yell of 'Ireland for ever!' was always raised by the
bystanders, which drowned the reply in its enthusiasm, and the
examination went on:
'You'll be true and faithful to that cause till you secure for your
country the freedom of America and the happiness of France? Kiss the
cross. Are you used to firearms?'
'Isn't he?maybe not! I'll be bound he knows a musket from a mealy
pratie!'
Such and such like were the comments that rang on all sides, so that
the modest 'Yis, sir,' of the patriot was completely lost.
'Load that gun, Tom,' said the officer.
Here Colooney, deeming that so simple a request must necessarily be
only a cover for something underhanda little clever surprise or
sotakes up the piece in a very gingerly manner, and examines it all
round, noticing that there is nothing, so far as he can discover,
unusual nor uncommon about it.
'Load that gun, I say.'
Sharper and more angrily is the command given this time.
'Yis, sir, immadiately.'
And now Tom tries the barrel with the ramrod, lest there should be
already a charge therea piece of forethought that is sure to be
loudly applauded by the public, not the less so because the impatience
of the French officers is making itself manifest in various ways.
At length he rams down the cartridge, and returns the ramrod; which
piece of adroitness, if done with a certain air of display and
flourish, is unfailingly saluted by another cheer. He now primes and
cocks the piece, and assumes a look of what he believes to be most
soldierlike severity.
As he stands thus for scrutiny, a rather lively debate gets up as to
whether or not Tom bit off the end of the cartridge before he rammed it
down. The biters and anti-biters being equally divided, the discussion
waxes strong. The French officers, eagerly asking what may be the
disputed point, laugh very heartily on hearing it.
'I'll lay ye a pint of sperits she won't go off,' cries one.
'Done! for two naggins, if he pulls strong,' rejoins another.
'Devil fear the same gun,' cries a third; 'she shot Mr. Sloan at
fifty paces, and killed him dead.'
'Tisn't the same gunthat's a Frinch onea bran-new one!'
'She isn't.'
'She is.'
'No, she isn't.'
'Yes, but she is.' 'What is't you say?' 'Hould your prate.'
'Arrah, teach your mother to feed ducks.'
'Silence in the ranks. Keep silence there. Attention, Colooney!'
'Yis, sir.'
'Fire!'
'What at, sir?' asks Tom, taking an amateur glance of the company,
who look not over satisfied at his scrutiny.
'Fire in the air!'
[Illustration: 260]
Bang goes the piece, and a yell follows the explosion, while cries
of 'Well done, Tom,' 'Begorra, if a Protestant got that!' and so on,
greet the performance.
'Stand by, Colooney!' and the volunteer falls back to make way for
another and similar exhibition, occasionally varied by the humour of
the blunders of the new candidate.
As to the Treasury orders, as we somewhat ludicrously styled the
cheques upon our imaginary bank, the scenes they led to were still more
absurd and complicated. We paid liberally, that is to say in promises,
for everything, and our generosity saved us a good deal of time, for it
was astonishing how little the owners disputed our solvency when the
price was left to themselves. But the rations were indeed the most
difficult matter of all; it being impossible to convince our allies of
the fact that the compact was one of trust, and the ration was not his
own to dispose of in any manner that might seem fit.
'Sure, if I don't like to ate itif I haven't an appetite for
itif I'd rather have a pint of sperits, or a flannel waistcoat, or a
pair of stockings, than a piece of mate, what harm is that to any one?'
This process of reasoning was much harder of answer than is usually
supposed, and even when replied to, another difficulty arose in its
place. Unaccustomed to flesh diet, when they tasted they could not
refrain from it, and the whole week's rations of beef, amounting to
eight pounds, were frequently consumed in the first twenty-four hours.
Such instances of gormandising were by no means unfrequent, and,
stranger still, in no one case, so far as I knew, followed by any ill
consequences.
The leaders were still more difficult to manage than the people.
Without military knowledge or experience of any kind, they presumed to
dictate the plan of a campaign to old and distinguished officers like
Humbert and Serasin, and when overruled by argument or ridicule,
invariably fell back upon their superior knowledge of Ireland and her
people, a defence for which, of course, we were quite unprepared, and
unable to oppose anything. From these and similar causes it may well be
believed that our labours were not light, and yet somehow, with all the
vexations and difficulties around us, there was a congenial tone of
levity, an easy recklessness, and a careless freedom in the Irish
character that suited us well There was but one single point whereupon
we were not thoroughly together, and this was religion. They were a
nation of most zealous Catholics; and as for us, the revolution had not
left the vestige of a belief amongst us.
A reconnaissance in Ballina, meant rather to discover the strength
of the garrison than of the place itself, having shown that the royal
forces were inconsiderable in number, and mostly militia, General
Humbert moved forward, on Sunday morning the 26th, with nine hundred
men of our own force, and about three thousand 'volunteers,' leaving
Colonel Charost and his staff, with two companies of foot, at Killala,
to protect the town, and organise the new levies as they were formed.
We saw our companions defile from the town with heavy hearts. The
small body of real soldiers seemed even smaller still from being
enveloped by that mass of peasants who accompanied them, and who
marched on the flanks or in the rear, promiscuously, without discipline
or ordera noisy, half-drunken rabble, firing off their muskets at
random, and yelling as they went, in savage glee and exultation. Our
sole comfort was in the belief, that, when the hour of combat did
arrive, they would fight to the very last. Such were the assurances of
their own officers, and made so seriously and confidently, that we
never thought of mistrusting them.
'If they be but steady under fire,' said Charost, 'a month will make
them good soldiers. Ours is an easy drill, and soon learned; but I
own,' he added, 'they do not give me this impression.'
Such was the reflection of one who watched them as they went past,
and with sorrow we saw ourselves concurring in the sentiment.
CHAPTER XXII. THE DAY OF 'CASTLEBAR'
We were all occupied with our drill at daybreak on the morning of
the 27th of August, when a mounted orderly arrived at full gallop, with
news that our troops were in motion for Castlebar, and orders for us
immediately to march to their support, leaving only one subaltern and
twenty men in 'the Castle.'
The worthy bishop was thunderstruck at the tidings. It is more than
probable that he never entertained any grave fears of our ultimate
success; still he saw that in the struggle, brief as it might be,
rapine, murder, and pillage would spread over the country, and that
crime of every sort would be certain to prevail during the short
interval of anarchy.
As our drums were beating the 'rally,' he entered the garden, and
with hurried steps came forward to where Colonel Charost was standing
delivering his orders.
'Good-day, Mons. l'Évêque,' said the colonel, removing his hat, and
bowing low. You see us in a moment of haste. The campaign has opened,
and we are about to march.'
'Have you made any provision for the garrison of this town,
colonel?' said the bishop, in terror. 'Your presence alone here
restrained the population hitherto. If you leave us-'
'We shall leave you a strong force of our faithful allies, sir,'
said Charost; 'Irishmen could scarcely desire better defenders than
their countrymen.'
'You forget, colonel, that some of us here are averse to this cause,
but, as non-combatants, lay claim to protection.'
'You shall have it, too, Mons. l'Évêque; we leave an officer and
twenty men.'
'An officer and twenty men!' echoed the bishop, in dismay.
'Quite sufficient, I assure you,' said Charost coldly; 'and if a
hair of one of their heads be injured by the populace, trust me, sir,
that we shall take a terrible vengeance.'
'You do not know these people, sir, as I know them,' said the bishop
eagerly. 'The same hour that you march out, will the town of Killala be
given up to pillage. As for your retributive justice, I may be pardoned
for not feeling any consolation in the pledge, for certes neither I nor
mine will live to witness it.'
As the bishop was speaking, a crowd of volunteers, some in uniform
and all armed, drew nearer and nearer to the place of colloquy; and
although understanding nothing of what went forward in the foreign
language, seemed to watch the expressions of the speakers' faces with a
most keen interest. To look at the countenances of these fellows, truly
one would not have called the bishop's fears exaggerated; their
expression was that of demoniac passion and hatred.
'Look, sir,' said the bishop, turning round, and facing the mob,
'look at the men to whose safeguard you propose to leave us.'
Charost made no reply; but making a sign for the bishop to remain
where he was, re-entered the pavilion hastily. I could see, through the
window that he was reading his despatches over again, and evidently
taking counsel with himself how to act. The determination was quickly
come to.
'Mons. l'Évêque,' said he, laying his hand on the bishop's arm, 'I
find that my orders admit of a choice on my part. I will, therefore,
remain with you myself, and keep a sufficient force of my own men. It
is not impossible, however, that in taking this step I may be perilling
my own safety. You will, therefore, consent that one of your sons shall
accompany the force now about to march, as a hostage. This is not an
unreasonable request on my part.'
'Very well, sir,' said the bishop sadly. 'When do they leave?'
'Within half an hour,' said Charost.
The bishop, bowing, retraced his steps through the garden back to
the house. Our preparations for the road were by this time far
advanced. The command said, 'Light marching order, and no rations'; so
that we foresaw that there was sharp work before us. Our menpart of
the 12th demi-brigade, and a half company of grenadierswere, indeed,
ready on the instant; but the Irish were not so easily equipped. Many
had strayed into the town; some, early as it was, were dead drunk; and
not a few had mislaid their arms or their ammunition, secretly
preferring the chance of a foray of their own to the prospect of a
regular engagement with the Royalist troops.
Our force was still a considerable one, numbering at least fifteen
hundred volunteers, besides about eighty of our men. By seven o'clock
we were under march, and with drums beating, defiled from the narrow
streets of Killala into the mountain-road that leads to Cloonagh; it
being our object to form a junction with the main body at the foot of
the mountain.
Two roads led from Ballina to Castlebarone to the eastward, the
other to the west of Lough Con. The former was a level road, easily
passable by wheel carriages, and without any obstacle or difficulty
whatever; the other took a straight direction over lofty mountains, and
in one spotthe Pass of Barnageeraghtraversed a narrow defile, shut
in between steep cliffs, where a small force, assisted by artillery,
could have arrested the advance of a great army. The road itself, too,
was in disrepair; the rains of autumn had torn and fissured it, while
heavy sandslips and fallen rocks in many places rendered it almost
impassable.
The Royalist generals had reconnoitred it two days before, and were
so convinced that all approach in this direction was out of the
question, that a small picket of observation, posted near the Pass of
Barnageeragh, was withdrawn as useless, and the few stockades they had
fixed were still standing as we marched through.
General Humbert had acquired all the details of these separate lines
of attack, and at once decided for the mountain-road, which, besides
the advantage of a surprise, was in reality four miles shorter.
The only difficulty was the transport of our artillery, but as we
merely carried those light field-pieces called 'curricle guns,' and had
no want of numbers to draw them, this was not an obstacle of much
moment. With fifty, sometimes sixty, peasants to a gun, they advanced
at a run, up places where our infantry found the ascent sufficiently
toilsome. Here, indeed, our allies showed in the most favourable
colours we had yet seen them. The prospect of a fight seemed to excite
their spirits almost to madness; every height they surmounted they
would break into a wild cheer, and the vigour with which they tugged
the heavy ammunition-carts through the deep and spongy soil never
interfered with the joyous shouts they gave, and the merry songs they
chanted in rude chorus.
'Tra, la, la! the French is comin',
What 'll now the red-coats do?
Maybe they won't get a drubbin'!
Sure we 'll lick them black and blue!
'Ye little knew the day was near ye,
Ye little thought they 'd come so far;
But here's the boys that never fear ye
Run, yer sowls, for Castlebar!'
To this measure they stepped in time, and although the poetry was
lost upon our ignorance, the rattling joyousness of the air sounded
pleasantly, and our men, soon catching up the tune, joined heartily in
the chorus. Another very popular melody ran somewhat thus:
'Our day is now begun,
Says the Shan van voght,
Our day is now begun,
Says the Shan van voght.
Our day is now begun,
And ours is all the fun!
Be my sowl ye 'd better run!
Says the Shan van voght!'
There were something like a hundred verses to this famous air, but
it is more than likely, from the specimen given above, that my reader
will forgive the want of memory that leaves me unable to quote the
remaining ninety-nine; nor is it necessary that I should add, that the
merit of these canticles lay in the hoarse accord of a thousand rude
voices, heard in the stillness of a wild mountain region, and at a time
when an eventful struggle was before us; such were the circumstances
which possibly made these savage rhymes assume something of terrible
meaning.
We had just arrived at the entrance of Barnageeragh, when one of our
mounted scouts rode up to say, that a peasant, who tended cattle on the
mountains, had evidently observed our approach, and hastened into
Castlebar with the tidings.
It was difficult to make General Humbert understand this fact.
'Is this the patriotism we have heard so much of? Are these the
people who would welcome us as deliverers?! Parbleu! I've seen
nothing but lukewarmness or downright opposition since I landed! In
that same town we have just quitteda miserable hole, too, was
itwhat was the first sight that greeted us? a fellow in our uniform
hanging from the stanchion of a window, with an inscription round his
neck, to the purport that he was a traitor! This is the fraternity
which our Irish friends never wearied to speak of!'
Our march was now hastened, and in less than an hour we debouched
from the narrow gorge into the open plain before the town of Castlebar.
A few shots in our front told us that the advanced picket had fallen in
with the enemy, but a French cheer also proclaimed that the Royalists
had fallen back, and our march continued unmolested. The road, which
was wide and level here, traversed a flat country, without hedgerow or
cover, so that we were able to advance in close column, without any
precaution for our flanks; but before us there was a considerable
ascent, which shut out all view of the track beyond it. Up this our
advanced guard was toiling, somewhat wearied with a seven hours' march
and the heat of a warm morning, when scarcely had the leading files
topped the ridge, than plump went a round shot over their heads, which,
after describing a fine curve, plunged into the soft surface of a newly
ploughed field. The troops were instantly retired behind the crest of
the hill, and an orderly despatched to inform the general that we were
in face of the enemy. He had already seen the shot and marked its
direction. The main body was accordingly halted, and defiling from the
centre, the troops extended on either side into the fields. While this
movement was being effected Humbert rode forward, and crossing the
ridge, reconnoitred the enemy.
It was, as he afterwards observed, a stronger force than he had
anticipated, consisting of between three and four thousand bayonets,
with four squadrons of horse, and two batteries of eight guns, the
whole admirably posted on a range of heights, in front of the town, and
completely covering it.
The ridge was scarcely eight hundred yards' distance, and so
distinctly was every object seen, that Humbert and his two
aides-de-camp were at once marked and fired at, even in the few minutes
during which the reconnaissance lasted.
As the general retired the firing ceased, and now all our
arrangements were made without molestation of any kind. They were,
indeed, of the simplest and speediest Two companies of our grenadiers
were marched to the front, and in advance of them, about twenty paces,
were posted a body of Irish in French uniforms. This place being
assigned them, it was said, as a mark of honour, but in reality for no
other purpose than to draw on them the Royalist artillery, and thus
screen the grenadiers.
Under cover of this force came two light six-pounder guns, loaded
with grape, and intended to be discharged at point-blank distance. The
infantry brought up the rear in three compact columns, ready to deploy
into line at a moment.
In these very simple tactics no notice whatever was taken of the
great rabble of Irish who hung upon our flanks and rear in disorderly
masses, cursing, swearing, and vociferating in all the license of
insubordination; and O'Donnell, whose showy uniform contrasted
strikingly with the dark-blue coat and low glazed cocked-hat of
Humbert, was now appealed to by his countrymen as to the reason of this
palpable slight.
'What does he want? what does the fellow say?' asked Humbert, as he
noticed his excited gestures and passionate manner.
'He is remonstrating, sir,' replied I, 'on the neglect of his
countrymen; he says that they do not seem treated like soldiers; no
post has been assigned, nor any order given them.'
'Tell him, sir,' said Humbert, with a savage grin, 'that the
discipline we have tried in vain to teach them hitherto, we'll not
venture to rehearse under an enemy's fire; and tell him also that he
and his ragged followers are free to leave us, or, if they like better,
to turn against us, at a moment's warning.'
I was saved the unpleasant task of interpreting this civil message
by Conolly, who, taking O'Donnell aside, appeared endeavouring to
reason with him, and reduce him to something like moderation.
'There, look at them, they're running like sheep!' cried Humbert,
laughing, as he pointed to an indiscriminate rabble, some hundred yards
off, in a meadow, and who had taken to their heels on seeing a round
shot plunge into the earth near them. 'Come along, sir: come with me,
and when you have seen what fire is, you may go back and tell your
countrymen! Serasin, is all ready? Well then, forward, march!'
'March!' was now re-echoed along the line, and steadily, as on a
parade, our hardy infantry stepped out, while the drums kept up a
continued roll as we mounted the hill.
The first to cross the crest of the ascent were the 'Legion,' as the
Irish were called, who, dressed like French soldiers, were selected for
some slight superiority in discipline and bearing. They had but gained
the ridge, however, when a well-directed shot from a six-pounder
smashed in amongst them, killing two, and wounding six or seven others.
The whole mass immediately fell back on our grenadiers. The confusion
compelled the supporting column to halt, and once more the troops were
retired behind the hill.
'Forward, men, forward!' cried Humbert, riding up to the front, and
in evident impatience at these repeated checks; and now the grenadiers
passed to the front, and, mounting the height, passed over, while a
shower of balls flew over and around them. A small slated house stood
half-way down the hill, and for this the leading files made a dash and
gained it, just as the main body were, for the third time, driven back
to re-form.
It was now evident that an attack in column could not succeed
against a fire so admirably directed, and Humbert quickly deployed into
line, and prepared to storm the enemy's position.
Up to this the conduct of the Royalists had been marked by the
greatest steadiness and determination. Every shot from their batteries
had told, and all promised an easy and complete success to their arms.
No sooner, however, had our infantry extended into line, than the
militia, unaccustomed to see an enemy before them, and unable to
calculate distance, opened a useless, dropping fire, at a range where
not a bullet could reach!
The ignorance of this movement, and the irregularity of the
discharge, were not lost upon our fellows, most of whom were veterans
of the army of the Rhine, and, with a loud cheer of derision, our
troops advanced to meet them, while a cloud of skirmishers dashed
forward and secured themselves under cover of a hedge.
Even yet, however, no important advantage had been gained by us, and
if the Royalists had kept their ground in support of their artillery,
we must have been driven back with loss; but, fortunately for us, a
movement we made to keep open order was mistaken by some of the militia
officers for the preparation to outflank them, a panic seized the whole
line, and they fell back, leaving their guns totally exposed and
unprotected.
'They 're running! they 're running!' was the cry along our line;
and now a race was seen, which should be first up with the artillery.
The cheers at this moment were tremendous, for our 'allies,' who had
kept wide aloof hitherto, were now up with us, and, more lightly
equipped than we were, soon took the lead. The temerity, however, was
costly, for three several times did the Royalist artillery load and
fire; and each discharge, scarcely at half-musket range, was terribly
effective.
We were by no means prepared for either so sudden or complete a
success, and the scene was exciting in the highest degree, as the whole
line mounted the hill, cheering madly. From the crest of this rising
ground we could now see the town of Castlebar beneath us, into which
the Royalists were scampering at full speed. A preparation for
defending the bridge into the town did not escape the watchful eyes of
our general, who again gave the word 'Forward!' not by the road alone,
but also by the fields at either side, so as to occupy the houses that
should command the bridge, and which, by a palpable neglect, the others
had forgotten to do.
Our small body of horse, about twenty hussars, were ordered to
charge the bridge, and had they been even moderately well mounted, must
have captured the one gun of the enemy at once; but the miserable
cattle, unable to strike a canter, only exposed them to a sharp
musketry; and when they did reach the bridge, five of their number had
fallen. The six-pounder was, however, soon taken, and the gunners
sabred at their posts, while our advanced guard coming up, completed
the victory; and nothing now remained but a headlong flight.
Had we possessed a single squadron of dragoons, few could have
escaped us, for not a vestige of discipline remained. All was wild
confusion and panic. Such of the officers as had ever seen service,
were already killed or badly wounded; and the younger ones were
perfectly unequal to the difficult task of rallying or restoring order
to a routed force.
The scene in the market-square, as we rode in, is not easily to be
forgotten; about two hundred prisoners were standing in a group,
disarmed, it is true, but quite unguarded, and without any preparation
or precaution against escape!
Six or seven English officers, amongst whom were two majors, were
gathered around General Humbert, who was conversing with them in tones
of easy and jocular familiarity. The captured guns of the enemy
(fourteen in all) were being ranged on one side of the square, while
behind them were drawn up a strange-looking line of men, with their
coats turned. These were part of the Kilkenny militia, who had deserted
to our ranks after the retreat began.
Such was the 'fight' of Castlebar. It would be absurd to call it a
'battle'a day too inglorious for the Royalists to reflect any credit
upon us; but, such as it was, it raised the spirits of our Irish
followers to a pitch of madness, and, out of our own ranks, none now
doubted in the certainty of Irish independence.
Our occupation of the town lasted only a week; but, brief as the
time was, it was sufficient to widen the breach between ourselves and
our allies into an open and undisguised hatred. There were,
unquestionably, wrongs on both sides. As for us, we were thoroughly,
bitterly disappointed in the character of those we had come to
liberate; and, making the egregious mistake of confounding these
semi-civilised peasants with the Irish people, we deeply regretted that
ever the French army should have been sent on so worthless a mission.
As for them, they felt insulted and degraded by the offensive tone we
assumed towards them. Not alone were they never regarded as comrades,
but a taunting insolence of manner was assumed in all our dealings with
them, very strikingly in contrast to that with which we conducted
ourselves towards all the other inhabitants of the island, even those
who were avowedly inimical to our object and our cause.
These things, with native quickness, they soon remarked. They saw
the consideration and politeness with which the bishop and his family
were treated; they saw several Protestant gentlemen suffered to return
to their homes 'on parole.' They saw, tooworse grievance of allhow
all attempts at pillage were restrained, or severely punished, and they
asked themselves, 'To what end a revolt, if neither massacre nor
robbery were to follow? If they wanted masters and rulers, sure they
had the English that they were used to, and could at least understand.'
Such were the causes, and such the reasonings, which gradually ate
deeper and deeper into their minds, rendering them at first sullen,
gloomy, and suspicious, and at last insubordinate, and openly insulting
to us.
Their leaders were the first to exhibit this state of feeling.
Affecting a haughty disdain for us, they went about with disparaging
stories of the French soldiery; and at last went even so far as to
impugn their courage!
In one of the versions of the affair at Castlebar, it was roundly
asserted that but for the Irish threatening to fire on them, the French
would have turned and fled; while in another, the tactics of that day
were all ascribed to the military genius of Neal Kerrigan, who,
by-the-bye, was never seen from early morning until late the same
afternoon, when he rode into Castlebar on a fine bay horse that
belonged to Captain Shortall of the Royal Artillery!
If the feeling between us and our allies was something less than
cordial, nothing could be more friendly than that which subsisted
between us and such of the Royalists as we came in contact with. The
officers who became our prisoners were treated with every deference and
respect. Two field-officers and a captain of carbineers dined daily
with the general, and Serasin entertained several others. We liked them
greatly; and I believe I am not flattering if I say that they were
equally satisfied with us. Nos amis l'ennemis, was the constant
expression used in talking of them; and every day drew closer the ties
of this comrade regard and esteem.
Such was the cordial tone of intimacy maintained between us, that I
remember well, one evening at Humbert's table, an animated discussion
being carried on between the general and an English staff-officer on
the campaign itselfthe Royalist averring that in marching southward
at all, a gross and irreparable mistake had been made, and that if the
French had occupied Sligo, and extended their wings towards the north,
they would have secured a position of infinitely greater strength, and
also become the centre for rallying round them a population of a very
different order from the half-starved tribes of Mayo.
Humbert affected to say that the reason for his actual plan was that
twenty thousand French were daily expected to land in Lough Swilly, and
that the western attack was merely to occupy time and attention, while
the more formidable movement went on elsewhere.
I know not if the English believed this; I rather suspect not.
Certes, they were too polite to express any semblance of distrust of
what was told them with all the air of truth.
It was amusing, too, to see the candour with which each party
discussed the other to his facethe French general criticising all the
faulty tactics and defective manoeuvres of the Royalists; while the
English never hesitated to aver that whatever momentary success might
wait upon the French arms, they were just as certain to be obliged to
capitulate in the end.
'You know it better than I do, general,' said the major of dragoons.
'It may be a day or two earlier or later, but the issue will and must
bea surrender.'
'I don't agree with you,' said Humbert, laughing; 'I think there
will be more than one Castlebar. But let the worst happenand you
must own that your haughty country has received a heavy insultyour
great England has got a soufflet in the face of all Europe!'
This, which our general regarded as a great compensationthe
greatest, perhaps, he could receive for all defeatdid not seem to
affect the English with proportionate dismay, nor even to ruffle the
equanimity of their calm tempers.
Upon one subject both sides were quite agreedthat the peasantry
never could aid, but very possibly would always shipwreck, every
attempt to win national independence.
'I should have one army to fight the English, and two to keep down
the Irish!' was Humbert's expression; and very little experience served
to show that there was not much exaggeration in the sentiment.
Our week at Castlebar taught us a good lesson in this respect. The
troops, wearied with a march that had begun on the midnight of the day
before, and with an engagement that lasted from eight till two in the
afternoon, were obliged to be under arms for several hours, to repress
pillage and massacre. Our allies now filled the town, to the number of
five thousand, openly demanding that it should be given up to them,
parading the streets in riotous bands, and displaying banners with long
lists of names doomed for immediate destruction.
The steadiness and temper of our soldiery were severely tried by
these factious and insubordinate spirits; but discipline prevailed at
last, and before the first evening closed in, the town was quiet, and,
for the time at least, danger over.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE TOWN-MAJOR OF
CASTLEBAR
I am at a loss to know whether or not I owe an apology to my reader
for turning away from the more immediate object of this memoir of a
life, to speak of events which have assumed an historical reputation.
It may be thought ill-becoming in one who occupied the subordinate
station that I did, to express himself on subjects so very far above
both his experience and acquaintance; but I would premise, that in the
opinions I may have formed, and the words of praise or censure dropped,
I have been but retailing the sentiments of those older and wiser than
myself, and by whose guidance I was mainly led to entertain not only
the convictions but the prejudices of my early years.
Let the reader bear in mind, too, that I was very early in life
thrown into the society of menleft self-dependent, in a great
measure, and obliged to decide for myself on subjects which usually are
determined by older and more mature heads. So much of excuse, then, if
I seem presumptuous in saying that I began to conceive a very low
opinion generally of popular attempts at independence, and a very high
one of the powers of military skill and discipline. A mob, in my
estimation, was the very lowest, and an army about the very highest,
object I could well conceive. My short residence at Castlebar did not
tend to controvert these impressions. The safety of the town and its
inhabitants was entirely owing to the handful of French who held it,
and who, wearied with guards, pickets, and outpost duty, were a mere
fraction of the small force that had landed a few days before.
Our 'allies' were now our most difficult charge, Abandoning the
hopeless task of drilling and disciplining them, we confined ourselves
to the more practical office of restraining pillage and repressing
violencea measure, be it said, that was not without peril, and of a
very serious kind. I remember one incident, which, if not followed by
grave consequences, yet appeared at the time of a very serious
character.
By the accidental misspelling of a name, a man named Dowall, a
notorious ruffian and demagogue, was appointed commandant de place, or town-major, instead of a most respectable shopkeeper named Downes,
who, although soon made aware of the mistake, from natural timidity
took no steps to undeceive the general. Dowall was haranguing a mob of
half-drunken vagabonds, when his commission was put into his hands;
and, accepting the post as an evidence of the fears the French
entertained of his personal influence, became more overbearing and
insolent than ever. We had a very gallant officer, the second major of
the 12th Regiment of the Line, killed in the attack on Castlebar, and
this Dowall at once took possession of poor Delaitre's horse, arms, and
equipment. His coat and shako, his very boots and gloves, the scoundrel
appropriated; and, as if in mockery of us and our poor friend, assumed
a habit that he had when riding fast, to place his sabre between his
leg and the saddle, to prevent its striking the horse on the flanks.
I need scarcely say that, thoroughly disgusted by the unsightly
exhibition, our incessant cares, and the endless round of duty we were
engaged in, as well as the critical position we occupied, left us no
time to notice the fellow's conduct by any other than a passing sign of
anger or contemptprovocations that he certainly gave us back as
insolently as we offered them. I do not believe that the general ever
saw him, but I know that incessant complaints were daily made to him
about the man's rapacity and tyranny, and scarcely a morning passed
without a dozen remonstrances being preferred against his overbearing
conduct.
Determined to have his own countrymen on his side, he issued the
most absurd orders for the billeting of the rabble, the rations and
allowances of all kinds. He seized upon one of the best houses for his
own quarters, and three fine saddle-horses for his personal use,
besides a number of inferior ones for the ruffian following he called
his staff!
It was, indeed, enough to excite laughter, had not indignation been
the more powerful emotion, to see this fellow ride forth of a
morninga tawdry scarf of green, with deep gold fringe, thrown over
his shoulder, and a saddle-cloth of the same colour, profusely studded
with gold shamrocks, on his horse; a drawn sword in his hand, and his
head erect, followed by an indiscriminate rabble on foot or
horsebacksome with muskets, some pikes, some with sword blades,
bayonets, or even knives fastened on sticks, but all alike
ferocious-looking.
They affected to march in order, and, with a rude imitation of
soldiery, carried something like a knapsack on their shoulders,
surmounted by a kettle or tin cup, or sometimes an iron pota
grotesque parody on the trim cooking equipment of the French soldier.
It was evident, from their step and bearing, that they thought
themselves in the very height of discipline; and this very assumption
was far more insulting to the real soldier than all the licentious
irregularity of the marauder. If to us they were objects of ridicule
and derision, to the townspeople they were images of terror and dismay.
The miserable shopkeeper who housed one of them lived in continual
fear; he knew nothing to be his own, and felt that his property and
family were every moment at the dictate of a ruffian gang, who
acknowledged no law, nor any rule save their own will and convenience.
Dowall's squad were indeed as great a terror in that little town as I
had seen the great name of Robespierre in the proud city of Paris.
In my temporary position on General Serasin's staff, I came to hear
much of this fellow's conduct. The most grievous stories were told me
every day of his rapacity and cruelty; but, harassed and overworked as
the general was with duties that would have been overmuch for three or
four men, I forebore to trouble him with recitals which could only fret
and distress him without affording the slightest chance of relief to
others. Perhaps this impunity had rendered him more daring, or,
perhaps, the immense number of armed Irish in comparison with the small
force of disciplined soldiers, emboldened the fellow; but certainly he
grew day by day more presumptuous and insolent, and at last so far
forgot himself as to countermand one of General Serasin's orders, by
which a guard was stationed at the Protestant church to prevent its
being molested or injured by the populace.
General Humbert had already refused the Roman Catholic priest his
permission to celebrate mass in that building, but Dowall had
determined otherwise, and that, too, by a written order, under his own
hand. The French sergeant who commanded the guard of course paid little
attention to this warrant; and when Father Hennisy wanted to carry the
matter with a high hand, he coolly tore up the paper, and threw the
fragments at him.
Dowall was soon informed of the slight offered to his mandate. He
was at supper at the time, entertaining a party of his friends, who all
heard the priest's story, and, of course, loudly sympathised with his
sorrows, and invoked the powerful leader's aid and protection.
Affecting to believe that the sergeant had merely acted in ignorance,
and from not being able to read English, Dowall despatched a fellow
whom he called his aide-de-camp, a schoolmaster named Lowrie, and who
spoke a little bad French, to interpret his command, and to desire the
sergeant to withdraw his men, and give up the guard to a party of 'the
squad.'
Great was the surprise of the supper-party, when, after the lapse of
half an hour, a country fellow came in to say that he had seen Lowrie
led off to prison between two French soldiers. By this time Dowall had
drunk himself into a state of utter recklessness, while, encouraged by
his friends' praises, and the arguments of his own passions, he fancied
that he might dispute ascendency with General Humbert himself. He at
once ordered out his horse, and gave a command to assemble the 'squad.'
As they were all billeted in his immediate vicinity, this was speedily
effected, and their numbers swelled by a vast mass of idle and curious,
who were eager to see how the matter would end; the whole street was
crowded, and when Dowall mounted, his followers amounted to above a
thousand people.
If our sergeant, an old soldier of the 'Sambre et Meuse,' had not
already enjoyed some experience of our allies, it is more than likely
that, seeing their hostile advance, he would have fallen back upon the
main guard, then stationed in the market-square. As it was, he simply
retired his party within the church, the door of which had already been
pierced for the use of musketry. This done, and one of his men being
despatched to headquarters for advice and orders, he waited patiently
for the attack.
I happened that night to make one of General Serasin's dinner-party,
and we were sitting over our wine, when the officer of the guard
entered hastily with the tidings of what was going on in the town.
'Is it the commandant de place himself who is at the head?'
exclaimed Serasin, in amazement, such a thought being a direct shock to
all his ideas of military discipline.
'Yes, sir,' said the officer; 'the soldier knows his appearance
well, and can vouch for its being him.'
'As I know something of him, general,' said I, 'I may as well
mention that nothing is more likely.'
'Who is hewhat is he?' asked Serasin hastily.
A very brief accountI need not say not a nattering onetold all
that I knew or had ever heard of our worthy town-majormany of the
officers around corroborating, as I went on, all that I said, and
interpolating little details of their own about his robberies and
exactions.
'And yet I have heard nothing of all this before,' said the general,
looking sternly around him on every side.
None ventured on a reply; and what might have followed there is no
guessing, when the sharp rattle of musketry cut short all discussion.
'That fire was not given by soldiers,' said Serasin. 'Go, Tiernay,
and bring this fellow before me at once.'
I bowed, and was leaving the room, when an officer, having whispered
a few words in Serasin's ear, the general called me back, saying
'You are not to incur any risk, Tiernay; I want no struggle, still
less a rescue. You understand me?'
'Perfectly, general; the matter will, I trust, be easy enough.'
And so I left the room, my heartshall I avow it?bumping and
throbbing in a fashion that gave a very poor corroboration to my words.
There were always three or four horses ready saddled for duty at each
general's quarters, and, taking one of them, I ordered a corporal of
dragoons to follow me, and set out. It was a fine night of autumn; the
last faint sunlight was yet struggling with the coming darkness, as I
rode at a brisk trot down the main street towards the scene of action.
I had not proceeded far when the crowds compelled me to slacken my
pace to a walk, and finding that the people pressed in upon me in such
a way as to prevent anything like a defence if attacked, still more,
any chance of an escape by flight, I sent the corporal forward to clear
a passage, and announce my coming to the redoubted commandant. It was
curious to see how the old dragoon's tactic effected his object, and
with what speed the crowd opened and fell back, as, with a flank
movement of his horse, he 'passaged' up the street, prancing, bounding,
and back-leaping, yet all the while perfectly obedient to the hand, and
never deviating from the straight line in the very middle of the
thoroughfare.
I could catch from the voices around me that the mob had fired a
volley at the church door, but that our men had never returned the
fire; and now a great commotion of the crowd, and that swaying, surging
motion of the mass, which is so peculiarly indicative of a coming
event, told that something more was in preparation. And such was it;
for already numbers were hurrying forward with straw faggots, broken
furniture, and other combustible material, which, in the midst of the
wildest cries and shouts of triumph, were now being heaped up against
the door. Another moment, and I should have been too late; as it was,
my loud summons to 'halt,' and a bold command for the mob to fall back,
only came at the very last minute.
'Where's the commandant?' said I, in an imperious tone.
'Who wants him?' responded a deep, husky voice, which I well knew to
be Dowall's.
'The general in command of the town,' said I firmly'General
Serasin.'
'Maybe I'm as good a general as himself,' was the answer. 'I never
called him my superior yet! Did I, boys?'
'Neverdevil a bitwhy would you?' and such like, were shouted by
the mob around us, in every accent of drunken defiance.
'You 'll not refuse General Serasin's invitation to confer with your
commandant, I hope?' said I, affecting a tone of respectful civility,
while I gradually drew nearer and nearer to him, contriving, at the
same time, by a dexterous plunging of my horse, to force back the
bystanders, and thus isolate my friend Dowall.
'Tell him I've work to do here,' said he, 'and can't come; but if
he's fond of a bonfire he may as well step down this far and see one.'
By this time, at a gesture of command from me, the corporal had
placed himself on the opposite side of Dowall's horse, and, by a
movement similar to my own, completely drove back the dense mob, so
that we had him completely in our power, and could have sabred or shot
him at any moment.
'General Serasin only wishes to see you on duty, commandant,' said
I, speaking in a voice that could be heard over the entire assemblage;
and then, dropping it to a whisper, only audible to himself, I added
'Come along quietly, sir, and without a word. If you speak, if you
mutter, or if you lift a finger, I'll run my sabre through your body.'
'Forward, way, there!' shouted I aloud, and the corporal, holding
Dowall's bridle, pricked the horse with the point of his sword, and
right through the crowd we went at a pace that defied following, had
any the daring to think of it.
So sudden was the act and so imminent the peril, for I held the
point of my weapon within a few inches of his back, and would have kept
my word most assuredly too, that the fellow never spoke a syllable as
we went, nor ventured on even a word of remonstrance till we descended
at the general's door. Then, with a voice tremulous with restrained
passion, he said
'If ye think I'll forgive ye this thrick, my fine hoy, may the
flames and fire be my portion! and if I haven't my revenge on ye yet,
my name isn't Mick Dowall.'
With a dogged, sulky resolution he mounted the stairs, but as he
neared the room where the general was, and from which his voice could
even now be heard, his courage seemed to fail him, and he looked back
as though to see if no chance of escape remained. The attempt would
have been hopeless, and he saw it.
'This is the man, general,' said I, half pushing him forward into
the middle of the room, where he stood with his hat on, and in an
attitude of mingled defiance and terror.
'Tell him to uncover,' said Serasin; but one of the aides-de-camp,
more zealous than courteous, stepped forward and knocked the hat off
with his hand. Dowall never budged an inch, nor moved a muscle, at this
insult; to look at him you could not have said that he was conscious of
it.
'Ask him if it was by his orders that the guard was assailed,' said
the general.
I put the question in about as many words, but he made no reply.
'Does the man know where he is? does he know who I am?' repeated
Serasin passionately.
'He knows both well enough, sir,' said I; 'this silence is a mere
defiance of us.'
'Parbleu!' cried an officer, 'that is the coquin took
poor Delaitre's equipments; the very uniform he has on was his.'
'The fellow was never a soldier,' said another.
'I know him well,' interposed a third' he is the very terror of
the townsfolk.'
'Who gave him his commission?who appointed him?' asked Serasin.
Apparently the fellow could follow some words of French, for as the
general asked this he drew from his pocket a crumpled and soiled paper,
which he threw heedlessly upon the table before us.
'Why, this is not his name, sir,' said I; 'this appointment is made
out in the name of Nicholas Downes, and our friend here is called
Dowall.'
'Who knows him? who can identify him?' asked Serasin.
'I can say that his name is Dowall, and that he worked as a porter
on the quay in this town when I was a boy,' said a young Irishman who
was copying letters and papers at a side-table. 'Yes, Dowall,' said the
youth, confronting the look which the other gave him. 'I am neither
afraid nor ashamed to tell you to your face that I know you well, and
who you are, and what you are.'
'I'm an officer in the Irish Independent Army now,' said Dowall
resolutely. 'To the divil I fling the French commission and all that
belongs to it. Tisn't troops that run and guns that burst we want. Let
them go back again the way they camewe 're able for the work
ourselves.*
Before I could translate this rude speech an officer broke into the
room, with tidings that the streets had been cleared, and the rioters
dispersed; a few prisoners, too, were taken, whose muskets bore trace
of being recently discharged.
'They fired upon our pickets, general,' said the officer, whose
excited look and voice betrayed how deeply he felt the outrage.
The men were introduced; three ragged, ill-looking wretches,
apparently only roused from intoxication by the terror of their
situation, for each was guarded by a soldier with a drawn bayonet in
his hand.
'We only obeyed ordhers, my lord; we only did what the captain tould
us,' cried they, in a miserable, whining tone, for the sight of their
leader in captivity had sapped all their courage.
'What am I here for? who has any business with me?' said Dowall,
assuming before his followers an attempt at his former tone of bully.
'Tell him,' said Serasin, 'that wherever a French general stands in
full command he will neither brook insolence nor insubordination. Let
those fellows be turned out of the town, and warned never to approach
the quarters of the army under any pretence whatever. As for this
scoundrel, we'll make an example of him. Order a peloton into
the yard, and shoot him!'
I rendered this speech into English as the general spoke it, and
never shall I forget the wild scream of the wretch as he heard the
sentence.
'I'm an officer in the army of Ireland. I don't belong to ye at all.
You've no power over me. Oh, captain, darlin'; oh, gentlemen, speak for
me! General, dear; general, honey, don't sintince me! don't, for the
love o' God!' and in grovelling terror the miserable creature threw
himself on his knees to beg for mercy.
'Tear off his epaulettes,' cried Serasin; 'never let a French
uniform be so disgraced!'
The soldiers wrenched off the epaulettes at the command, and, not
satisfied with this, they even tore away the lace from the cuffs of the
uniform, which now hung in ragged fragments over his trembling hands.
'Oh, sir! oh, general! oh, gentlemen, have marcy!'
'Away with him,' said Serasin contemptuously; 'it is only the cruel
can be such cowards. Give the fellow his fusillade with blank
cartridge, and, the chances are, fear will kill him outright.'
The scene that ensued is too shocking, too full of abasement, to
record; there was nothing that fear of death, nothing that abject
terror could suggest, that this miserable wretch did not attempt to
save his life; he wepthe begged in accents that were unworthy of all
manhoodhe kissed the very ground at the general's feet in his abject
sorrow; and when at last he was dragged from the room, his screams were
the most piercing and terrific.
Although all my compassion was changed into contempt, I felt that I
could never have given the word to fire upon him, had such been my
orders; his fears had placed him below all manhood, but they still
formed a barrier of defence around him. I accordingly whispered a few
words to the sergeant, as we passed down the stairs, and then,
affecting to have forgotten something, I stepped back towards the room,
where the general and his staff were sitting. The scuffling sound of
feet, mingled with the crash of firearms, almost drowned the cries of
the still struggling wretch; his voice, however, burst forth into a
wild cry, and then there came a pausea pause that at last became
insupportable to my anxiety, and I was about to rush downstairs, when a
loud yell, a savage howl of derision and hate burst forth from the
street; and on looking out I saw a vast crowd before the door, who were
shouting after a man, whose speed soon carried him out of reach. This
was Dowall, who, thus suffered to escape, was told to fly from the town
and never to return to it.
'Thank Heaven,' muttered I, 'we've seen the last of him.'
The rejoicing was, however, premature.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE MISSION TO THE
NORTH
I have never yet been able to discover whether General Humbert
really did feel the confidence that he assumed at this period, or that
he merely affected it, the better to sustain the spirits of those
around him. If our success at Castlebar was undeniable, our loss was
also great, and far more than proportionate to all the advantages we
had acquired. Six officers and two hundred and forty men were either
killed or badly wounded, and as our small force had really acquired no
reinforcement worth the name, it was evident that another such costly
victory would be our ruin.
Not one gentleman of rank or influence had yet joined us; few of the
priesthood; and, even among the farmers and peasantry, it was easy to
see that our recruits comprised those whose accession could never have
conferred honour or profit on any cause.
Our situation was anything but promising. The rumours that reached
us (and we had no other or more accurate information than rumours) told
that an army of thirty thousand men, under the command of Lord
Cornwallis, was in march against us; that all the insurrectionary
movements of the south were completely repressed; that the spirit of
the Irish was crushed, and their confidence broken, either by defeat or
internal treachery. In a word, that the expedition had already failed,
and the sooner we had the means of leaving the land of our disasters
the better.
Such were the universal feelings of all my comrades; but Humbert,
who had often told us that we were only here to prepare the way for
another and more formidable mission, now pretended to think that we
were progressing most favourably towards a perfect success. Perhaps he
firmly believed all this, or perhaps he thought that the pretence would
give more dignity to the finale of an exploit which he already saw was
nearly played out. I know not which is the true explanation, and am
half disposed to think that he was actuated as much by one impulse as
the other.
'The Army of the North' was the talisman, which we now heard of for
the first time, to repair all our disasters, and ensure complete
victory. 'The Army of the North,' whose strength varied from twenty to
twenty-five, and sometimes reached even thirty thousand men, and was
commanded by a distinguished Irish general, was now the centre to which
all our hopes turned. Whether it had already landed, and where, of what
it consisted, and how officered, not one of us knew anything; but by
dint of daily repetition and discussion we had come to believe in its
existence as certainly as though we had seen it under arms.
The credulous lent their convictions without any trouble to
themselves whatever; the more sceptical studied the map, and fancied
twenty different places in which they might have disembarked; and thus
the Army of the North grew to be a substance and reality, as undoubted
as the scenes before our eyes.
Never was such a ready solution of all difficulties discovered as
this same Army of the North. Were we to be beaten by Cornwallis, it was
only a momentary check, for the Army of the North would come up within
a few days and turn the whole tide of war. If our Irish allies grew
insubordinate or disorderly, a little patience and the Army of the
North would settle all that. Every movement projected was fancied to be
in concert with this redoubted corps, and at last every trooper that
rode in from Killala or Ballina was questioned as to whether his
despatches did not come from the Army of the North.
Frenchmen will believe anything you like for twenty-four hours. They
can be flattered into a credulity of two days, and, by dint of great
artifice and much persuasion, will occasionally reach a third; but
there, faith has its limit; and if nothing palpable, tangible, and
real, intervene, scepticism ensues; and what with native sarcasm,
ridicule, and irony, they will demolish the card edifice of credit far
more rapidly than ever they raised it. For two whole days the Army of
the North occupied every man amongst us. We toasted it over our wine;
we discussed it at our quarters; we debated upon its whereabouts, its
strength, and its probable destination; but on the third morning a
terrible shock was given to our feelings by a volatile young lieutenant
of hussars exclaiming'Ma foi! I wish I could see this same
Army of the North!'
Now, although nothing was more reasonable than this wish, nor was
there any one of us who had not felt a similar desire, this sudden
expression of it struck us all most forcibly, and a shrinking sense of
doubt spread over every face, and men looked at each other as though to
say'Is the fellow capable of supposing that such an army does not
exist?' It was a very dreadful momenta terrible interval of struggle
between the broad daylight of belief and the black darkness of
incredulity; and we turned glances of actual dislike at the man who had
so unwarrantably shaken our settled convictions.
'I only said I should like to see them under arms,' stammered he, in
the confusion of one who saw himself exposed to public obloquy.
This half-apology came too late-the mischief was done! and we
shunned each other like men who were afraid to read the accusation of
even a shrewd glance. As for myself, I can compare my feelings only to
those of the worthy alderman, who broke out into a paroxysm of grief on
hearing that Robinson Crusoe was a fiction. I believe, on that
sudden revulsion of feeling, I could have discredited any and
everything. If there was no Army of the North, was I quite sure that
there was any expedition at all? Were the generals mere freebooters,
the chiefs of a marauding venture? Were the patriots anything but a
disorderly rabble eager for robbery and bloodshed? Was Irish
Independence a mere phantom? Such were among the shocking terrors that
came across my mind as I sat in my quarters, far too dispirited and
depressed to mix among my comrades.
It had been a day of fatiguing duty, and I was not sorry, as night
fell, that I might betake myself to bed, to forget, if it might be, the
torturing doubts that troubled me. Suddenly I heard a heavy foot upon
the stair, and an orderly entered with a command for me to repair to
the headquarters of the general at once. Never did the call of duty
summon me less willing, never found me so totally disinclined to obey.
I was weary and fatigued; but worse, than this, I was out of temper
with myself, the service, and the whole world. Had I heard that the
Royal forces were approaching, I was exactly in the humour to have
dashed into the thick of them, and sold my life as dearly as I could,
out of desperation.
Discipline is a powerful antagonist to a man's caprices, for with
all my irritability and discontent I arose, and resuming my uniform,
set out for General Humbert's quarters. I followed 'the orderly,' as he
led the way through many a dark street and crooked alley till we
reached the square. There, too, all was in darkness, save at the
mainguard, where, as usual, the five windows of the first storey were a
blaze of light, and the sounds of mirth and revelry, the nightly orgies
of our officers, were ringing out in the stillness of the quiet hour.
The wild chorus of a soldier-song, with its rataplan accompaniment of
knuckles on the table, echoed through the square, and smote upon my ear
with anything but a congenial sense of pleasure.
In my heart I thought them a senseless, soulless crew, that could
give themselves to dissipation and excess on the very eve, as it were,
of our defeat, and with hasty steps I turned away into the side-street,
where a large lamp, the only light to be seen, proclaimed General
Humbert's quarters.
A bustle and stir, very unusual at this late hour, pervaded the
passages and stairs, and it was some time before I could find one of
the staff to announce my arrival, which at last was done somewhat
unceremoniously, as an officer hurried me through a large chamber
crowded with the staff into an inner room, where, on a small field-bed,
lay General Humbert, without coat or boots, a much-worn scarlet cloak
thrown half over him, and a black handkerchief tied round his head. I
had scarcely seen him since our landing, and I could with difficulty
recognise the burly, high-complexioned soldier of a few days back, in
the worn and haggard features of the sick man before me. An attack of
ague, which he had originally contracted in Holland, had relapsed upon
him, and he was now suffering all the lassitude and sickness of that
most depressing of all maladies.
Maps, books, plans, and sketches of various kinds scattered the bed,
the table, and even the floor around him; but his attitude as I entered
betrayed the exhaustion of one who could labour no longer, and whose
worn-out faculties demanded rest. He lay flat on his back, his arms
straight down beside him, and with half-closed eyes, seemed as though
falling off to sleep.
His first aide-de-camp, Merochamp, was standing with his back to a
small turf fire, and made a sign to us to be still, and make no noise
as we came in.
'He 's sleeping,' said he; 'it 's the first time he has closed his
eyes for ten days.'
We stood for a moment uncertain, and were about to retrace our
steps, when Humbert said, in a low, weak voice
'No! I'm not asleep, come in.'
The officer who presented me now retired, and I advanced towards the
bedside.
'This is Tiernay, general,' said Merochamp, stooping down and
speaking low; 'you wished to see him.'
'Yes, I wanted him. Ha! Tiernay, you see me a good deal altered
since we parted last; however, I shall be all right in a day or two,
it's a mere attack of ague, and will leave when the good weather comes.
I wished to ask you about your family, Tiernay; was not your father
Irish?'
'No, sir; we were Irish two or three generations back, but since
that we have belonged either to Austria or to France.'
'Then where were you born?'
'In Paris, sir, I believe, but certainly in France.'
'Then I said so, Merochamp; I knew that the boy was French.'
'Still I don't think the precaution worthless,' replied Merochamp;
'Teeling and the others advise it.'
'I know they do,' said Humbert peevishly, 'and for themselves it may
be needful; but this lad's case will be injured, not bettered by it. He
is not an Irishman; he never was at any time a British subject. Have
you any certificate of birth or baptism, Tiernay?'
'None, sir; but I have my 'livret' for the school of Saumur, which
sets forth my being a Frenchman by birth.'
'Quite sufficient, boy, let me have it.'
It was a document which I always carried about with me since I
landed, to enable me any moment, if made prisoner, to prove myself an
alien, and thus escape the inculpation of fighting against the flag of
my country. Perhaps there was something of reluctance in my manner as I
relinquished it, for the general said, 'I'll take good care of it,
Tiernay; you shall not fare the worse because it is in my keeping. I
may as well tell you that some of our Irish officers have received
threatening letters. It is needless to say they are without name,
stating that if matters go unfortunately with us in this campaign they
will meet the fate of men taken in open treason; and that their
condition of officers in our service will avail them nothing. I do not
believe this. I cannot believe that they will be treated in any respect
differently from the rest of us. However, it is only just that I should
tell you that your name figures amongst those so denounced; for this
reason I have sent for you now. You, at least, have nothing to
apprehend on this score. You are as much a Frenchman as myself. I know
Merochamp thinks differently from me, and that your Irish descent and
name will be quite enough to involve you in the fate of others.'
A gesture, half of assent but half of impatience, from the
aide-de-camp, here arrested the speaker.
'Why not tell him frankly how he stands?' said Humbert eagerly; 'I
see no advantage in any concealment.'
Then addressing me, he went on. 'I purpose, Tiernay, to give you the
same option I gave the others, but which they have declined to accept.
It is this: we are daily expecting to hear of the arrival of a force in
the north under the command of Generals Tandy and Rey.'
'The Army of the North?' asked I, in some anxiety. 'Precisely; the
Army of the North. Now I desire to open a communication with them, and
at the same time to do so through the means of such officers as, in the
event of any disaster here, may have the escape to France open to them;
which this army will have, and which, I need not say, we have no
longer. Our Irish friends have declined this mission as being more
likely to compromise them if taken; and also as diminishing and not
increasing their chance of escape. In my belief that you were placed
similarly I have sent for you here this evening, and at the same time
desire to impress upon you that your acceptance or refusal is purely a
matter at your own volition.'
'Am I to regard the matter simply as one of duty, sir? or as an
opportunity of consulting my personal safety?'
'What shall I say to this, Merochamp?' asked Humbert bluntly.
'That you are running to the full as many risks of being banged for
going as by staying; such is my opinion,' said the aide-de-camp. 'Here
as a rebel, there as a spy.'
'I confess, then,' said I, smiling at the cool brevity of the
speech, 'the choice is somewhat embarrassing! May I ask what you advise
me to do, general?'
'I should say go, Tiernay.'
'Go, by all means, lad,' broke in the aide-de-camp, who throughout
assumed a tone of dictation and familiarity most remarkable. 'If a
stand is to be made in this miserable country it will be with Rey's
force; here the game will not last much longer. There lies the only man
capable of conducting such an expedition, and his health cannot stand
up against its trials!'
'Not so, Merochamp; I 'll be on horseback to-morrow or the day after
at furthest; and if I never were to take the field again, there are
others, yourself amongst the number, well able to supply my place: but
as to Tiernaywhat says he?'
'Make it duty, sir, and I shall go, or remain here with an easy
conscience,' said I.
'Then duty be it, boy,' said he; 'and Merochamp will tell you
everything, for all this discussion has wearied me much, and I cannot
endure more talking.'
'Sit down here,' said the aide-de-camp, pointing to a seat at his
side, 'and five minutes will suffice.'
He opened a large map of Ireland before us on the table, and running
his finger along the coast-line of the western side, stopped abruptly
at the bay of Lough Swilly.
'There,' said he, 'that is the spot. There, too, should have been
our own landing! The whole population of the north will be with
themnot such allies as these fellows, but men accustomed to the use
of arms, able and willing to take the field. They say that five
thousand men could hold the passes of those mountains against thirty.'
'Who says this?' said I, for I own it that I had grown marvellously
sceptical as to testimony.
'Napper Tandy, who is a general of division, and one of the leaders
of this force'; and he went on: 'The utmost we can do will be to hold
these towns to the westward till they join us. We may stretch away thus
far,' and he moved his finger towards the direction of Leitrim, but no
farther. 'You will have to communicate with them; to explain what we
have done, where we are, and how we are. Conceal nothinglet them hear
fairly that this patriot force is worth nothing, and that even to
garrison the towns we take they are useless. Tell them, too, the sad
mistake we made by attempting to organise what never can be
disciplined, and let them not arm a population, as we have done, to
commit rapine and plunder.'
Two letters were already writtenone addressed to Rey, the other to
Napper Tandy. These I was ordered to destroy if I should happen to
become a prisoner; and with the map of Ireland, pen-marked in various
directions, by which I might trace my route, and a few lines to Colonel
Charost, whom I was to see on passing at Killala, I was dismissed.'
When I approached the bedside to take leave of the general he was sound
asleep. The excitement of talking having passed away, he was pale as
death, and his lips totally colourless. Poor fellow, he was
exhausted-looking and weary, and I could not help thinking, as I looked
on him, that he was no bad emblem of the cause he had embarked in!
I was to take my troop-horse as far as Killala, after which I was to
proceed either on foot, or by such modes of conveyance as I could find,
keeping as nigh the coast as possible, and acquainting myself, so far
as I might do, with the temper and disposition of the people as I went.
It was a great aid to my sinking courage to know that there really was
an Army of the North, and to feel myself accredited to hold intercourse
with the generals commanding it.
Such was my exultation at this happy discovery, that I was dying to
burst in amongst my comrades with the tidings, and proclaim, at the
same time, my own high mission. Merochamp had strictly enjoined my
speedy departure without the slightest intimation to any, whither I was
going, or with what object.
A very small cloak-bag held all my effects, and with this slung at
my saddle I rode out of the town just as the church clock was striking
twelve. It was a calm, starlight night, and once a short distance from
the town, as noiseless and still as possible; a gossoon, one of the
numerous scouts we employed in conveying letters or bringing
intelligence, trotted along on foot beside me to show the way, for
there was a rumour that some of the Royalist cavalry still loitered
about the passes to capture our despatch bearers, or make prisoners of
any stragglers from the army.
These gossoons, picked up by chance, and selected for no other
qualification than because they were keen-eyed and swift of foot, were
the most faithful and most worthy creatures we met with. In no instance
were they ever known to desert to the enemy, and, stranger still, they
were never seen to mix in the debauchery and excesses so common to all
the volunteers of the rebel camp. Their intelligence was considerable,
and to such a pitch had emulation stimulated them in the service, that
there was no danger they would not incur in their peculiar duties.
My companion on the present occasion was a little fellow of about
thirteen years of age, and small and slight even for that; we knew him
as 'Peter,' but whether he had any other name, or what, I was ignorant.
He was wounded by a sabre-cut across the hand, which nearly severed the
fingers from it, at the bridge of Castlebar, but, with a strip of linen
bound round it, now he trotted along as happy and careless as if
nothing ailed him.
I questioned him as we went, and learned that his father had been a
herd in the service of a certain Sir Roger Palmer, and his mother a
dairymaid in the same house, but as the patriots had sacked and burned
the 'Castle,' of course they were now upon the world. He was a good
deal shocked at my asking what part his father took on the occasion of
the attack, but for a very different reason than that which I
suspected.
'For the cause, of course!' replied he, almost indignantly; 'why
wouldn't he stand up for ould Ireland!'
'And your motherwhat did she do?'
He hung down his head, and made no answer till I repeated the
question.
'Faix,' said he slowly and sadly, 'she went and towld the young
ladies what was goin' to be done, and if it hadn't been that the boys
caught Tim Haynes, the groom, going off to Foxford with a letter, we'd
have had the dragoons down upon us in no time! They hanged Tim, but
they let the young ladies away, and my mother with them, and off they
all went to Dublin.'
'And where's your father now?' I asked.
'He was drowned in the bay of Killala four days ago. He went with a
party of others to take oatmeal from a sloop that was wrecked in the
bay, and an English cruiser came in at the time and fired on them; at
the second discharge the wreck and all upon it went down!'
He told all these things without any touch of sorrow in voice or
manner. They seemed to be the ordinary chances of war, and so he took
them. He had three brothers and a sister; of the former, two were
missing, the third was a scout; and the girlshe was but nine years
oldwas waiting on a canteen, and mighty handy, he said, for she knew
a little French already, and understood the soldiers when they asked
for a goutte, or wanted du feu for their pipes.
Such, then, was the credit side of the account with Fortune, and,
strange enough, the boy seemed satisfied with it; and although a few
days had made him an orphan and houseless, he appeared to feel that the
great things in store for his country were an ample recompense for all.
Was this, then, patriotism? Was it possible that one, untaught and
unlettered as he was, could think national freedom cheap at such a
cost? If I thought so for a moment, a very little further inquiry
undeceived me. Religious rancour, party feuds, the hate of the Saxona
blind, ill-directed, unthinking hatewere the motives which actuated
him. A terrible retribution for something upon somebody, an awful
wiping out of old scores, a reversal of the lot of rich and poor, were
the main incentives to his actions, and he was satisfied to stand by at
the drawing of this great lottery, even without holding a ticket in it!
It was almost the first moment of calm reflective thought I had
enjoyed, as I rode along thus in the quiet stillness of the night, and
I own that my heart began to misgive me as to the great benefits of our
expedition. I will not conceal the fact, that I had been disappointed
in every expectation I had formed of Ireland.
The bleak and barren hills of Mayo, the dreary tracts of mountain
and morass, were about as unworthy representatives of the boasted
beauty and fertility, as were the half-clad wretches who flocked around
us of that warlike people of whom we had heard so much. Where were the
chivalrous chieftains with their clans behind them? Where the thousands
gathering around a national standard? Where that high-souled
patriotism, content to risk fortune, stationall, in the conflict for
national independence? A rabble led on by a few reckless debauchees,
and two or three disreputable or degraded priests, were our only
allies; and even these refused to be guided by our councils, or swayed
by our authority. I half suspected Serasin was right when he said'Let
the Directory send thirty thousand men and make it a French province,
but let us not fight an enemy to give the victory to the
sans-culottes.'
As we neared the pass of Barnageeragh, I turned one last look on the
town of Castlebar, around which, at little intervals of space, the
watch-fires of our pickets were blazing; all the rest of the place was
in darkness.
It was a strange and a thrilling thought to think that there,
hundreds of miles from their home, without one link that could connect
them to it, lay a little army in the midst of an enemy's country, calm,
self-possessed, and determined. How many, thought I, are destined to
leave it? How many will bring back to our dear France the memory of
this unhappy struggle?
CHAPTER XXV. A PASSING VISIT TO
KILLALA
I found a very pleasant party assembled around the bishop's
breakfast-table at Killala. The bishop and his family were all there,
with Charost and his staff, and some three or four other officers from
Ballina. Nothing could be less constrained, more easy, or more
agreeable, than the tone of intimacy which in a few days had grown up
between them. A cordial good feeling seemed to prevail on every
subject, and even the reserve which might be thought natural on the
momentous events then happening was exchanged for a most candid and
frank discussion of all that was going forward, which, I must own,
astonished as much as it gratified me.
The march on Castlebar, the choice of the mountain-road, 'which led
past the position occupied by the Royalists, the attack and capture of
the artillery, had all to be related by me for the edification of such
as were not conversant with French; and I could observe that however
discomfited by the conduct of the militia, they fully relied on the
regiments of the line and the artillery. It was amusing, too, to see
with what pleasure they listened to all our disparagement of the Irish
volunteers.
Every instance we gave of insubordination or disobedience delighted
them, while our own blundering attempts to manage the people, the
absurd mistakes we fell into, and the endless misconceptions of their
character and habits, actually convulsed them with laughter.
'Of course,' said the bishop to us, 'you are prepared to hear that
there is no love lost between you, and that they are to the full as
dissatisfied with you as you are dissatisfied with them?'
'Why, what can they complain of?' asked Charost, smiling; 'we gave
them the place of honour in the very last engagement!'
'Very true, you did so, and they reaped all the profit of the
situation. Monsieur Tiernay had just told the havoc that grape and
round shot scattered amongst the poor creatures. However, it is not of
this they complainit is their miserable fare, the raw potatoes, their
beds in open fields and highways, while the French, they say, eat of
the best and sleep in blankets; they do not understand this inequality,
and perhaps it is somewhat hard to comprehend.'
'Patriotism ought to be proud of such little sacrifices,' said
Charost, with an easy laugh; 'besides, it is only a passing endurance:
a month hence, less, perhaps, will see us dividing the spoils, and
revelling in the conquest of Irish independence.'
'You think so, colonel?' asked the bishop, half slyly.
'Parbleu! to be sure I doand you?'
'I'm just as sanguine,' said the bishop, 'and fancy that, about a
month hence, we shall be talking of all these things as matters of
history; and while sorrowing over some of the unavoidable calamities of
the event, preserving a grateful memory of some who came as enemies but
left us warm friends.'
'If such is to be the turn of fortune,' said Charost, with more
seriousness than before, 'I can only say that the kindly feelings will
not be one-sided.'
And now the conversation became an animated discussion on the
chances of success or failure. Each party supported his opinion ably
and eagerly, and with a degree of freedom that was not a little
singular to the bystanders. At last, when Charost was fairly answered
by the bishop on every point, he asked
'But what say you to the Army of the North?'
'Simply, that I do not believe in such a force,' rejoined the
bishop.
'Not believe itnot believe on what General Humbert relies at this
moment, and to which that officer yonder is an accredited messenger!
When I tell you that a most distinguished Irishman, Napper Tandy'
'Napper Tandy!' repeated the bishop, with a good-humoured smile;
'the name is quite enough to relieve one of any fears, if they ever
felt them. I am not sufficiently acquainted with your language to give
him the epithet he deserves, but if you can conceive an empty,
conceited man, as ignorant of war as of politics, rushing into a
revolution for the sake of a green uniform, and ready to convulse a
kingdom that he may be called a major-general, only enthusiastic in his
personal vanity, and wanting even in that heroic daring which
occasionally dignifies weak capacitiessuch is Napper Tandy.'
'What in soldier-phrase we call a Blague,' said Charost, laughing;
'I'm sorry for it.'
What turn the conversation was about to take I cannot guess, when it
was suddenly interrupted by one of the bishop's servants rushing into
the room, with a face bloodless from terror. He made his way up to
where the bishop sat, and whispered a few words in his ear.
'And how is the wind blowing, Andrew?' asked the bishop, in a voice
that all his self-command could not completely steady.
'From the north, or the north-west, and mighty strong, too, my
lord,' said the man, who trembled in every limb.
The affrighted aspect of the messenger, the excited expression of
the bishop's face, and the question as to the 'wind,' at once suggested
to me the idea that a French fleet had arrived in the bay, and that the
awful tidings were neither more nor less than the announcement of our
reinforcement.
'From the north-west,' repeated the bishop; 'then, with God's
blessing, we may be spared.' And so saying, he arose from the table,
and with an effort that showed that the strength to do so had only just
returned to him.
'Colonel Charost, a word with you!' said he, leading the way into an
adjoining room.
'What is it?what has happened?what can it be?' was asked by each
in turn. And now groups gathered at the windows, which all looked into
the court of the building, now crowded with people, soldiers, servants,
and country-folk gazing earnestly towards the roof of the castle.
'What's the matter, Terry?' asked one of the bishop's sons, as he
threw open the window.
'Tis the chimbley on fire, Master Robert,' said the man; 'the
kitchen chimbley, wid those divils of Frinch!'
I cannot describe the burst of laughter that followed the
explanation.
So much terror for so small a catastrophe was inconceivable; and
whether we thought of Andrew's horrified face, or the worthy bishop's
pious thanksgiving as to the direction of the wind, we could scarcely
refrain from another outbreak of mirth. Colonel Charost made his
appearance at the instant, and although his step was hurried, and his
look severe, there was nothing of agitation or alarm on his features.
'Turn out the guard, Truchet, without arms,' said he. 'Come with me,
Tiernayan awkward business enough,' whispered he, as he led me along.
'These follows have set fire to the kitchen chimney, and we have three
hundred barrels of gunpowder in the cave!' Nothing could be more easy
and unaffected than the way he spoke this; and I actually stared at
him, to see if his coldness was a mere pretence, but far from itevery
gesture and every word showed the most perfect self-possession, with a
prompt readiness for action.
When we reached the court, the bustle and confusion had reached its
highest, for, as the wind lulled, large masses of inky smoke hung, like
a canopy, overhead, through which a forked flame darted at intervals,
with that peculiar furnacelike roar that accompanies a jet of fire in
confined places. At times, too, as the soot ignited, great showers of
bright sparks floated upwards, and afterwards fell, like a fiery rain,
on every side. The country-people, who had flocked in from the
neighbourhood, were entirely occupied with these signs, and only intent
upon saving the remainder of the house, which they believed in great
peril, totally unaware of the greater and more imminent danger close
beside them.
Already they had placed ladders against the walls, and, with ropes
and buckets, were preparing to ascend, when Truchet marched in with his
company, in fatigue-jackets, twenty sappers with shovels accompanying
them.
'Clear the courtyard, now,' said Charost, 'and leave this matter to
us.'
The order was obeyed somewhat reluctantly, it is true, and at last
we stood the sole occupants of the spot, the bishop being the only
civilian present, he having refused to quit the spot, unless compelled
by force.
The powder was stored in a long shed adjoining the stables, and
originally used as a shelter for farming tools and utensils. A few
tarpaulins we had carried with us from the ships were spread over the
barrels, and on this now some sparks of fire had fallen, as the burning
soot had been carried in by an eddy of wind.
The first order was, to deluge the tarpaulins with water; and while
this was being done, the sappers were ordered to dig trenches in the
garden, to receive the barrels. Every man knew the terrible peril so
near him; each felt that at any instant a frightful death might
overtake him, and yet every detail of the duty was carried on with the
coldest unconcern; and when at last the time came to carry away the
barrels, on a species of hand-barrow, the fellows stepped in time, as
if on the march, and moved in measure, a degree of indifference, which,
to judge from the good bishop's countenance, evidently inspired as many
anxieties for their spiritual welfare as it suggested astonishment and
admiration for their courage.
He himself, it must be owned, displayed no sign of trepidation, and
in the few words he spoke, or the hints he dropped, exhibited every
quality of a brave man.
At moments the peril seemed very imminent indeed. Some timber having
caught fire, slender fragments of burning wood fell in masses, covering
the men as they went, and falling on the barrels, whence the soldiers
brushed them off with cool indifference. The dense, thick smoke, too,
obscuring every object a few paces distant, added to the confusion, and
occasionally bringing the going and returning parties into collision, a
loud shout, or cry, would ensue; and it is difficult to conceive how
such a sound thrilled through the heart at such a time. I own that more
than once I felt a choking fulness in the throat, as I heard a sudden
yell, it seemed so like a signal for destruction. In removing one of
the last barrels from the hand-barrow, it slipped, and, falling to the
ground, the hoops gave way, it burst open, and the powder fell out on
every side. The moment was critical, for the wind was baffling, now
wafting the sparks clear away, now whirling them in eddies around us.
It was then that an old sergeant of grenadiers threw off his upper coat
and spread it over the broken cask, while, with all the composure of a
man about to rest himself, he lay down on it, while his comrades went
to fetch water. Of course his peril was no greater than that of every
one around him, but there was an air of quick determination in his act
which showed the training of an old soldier. At length the labour was
ended, the last barrel was committed to the earth, and the men, formed
into line, were ordered to wheel and march. Never shall I forget the
bishop's face as they moved past. The undersized and youthful look of
our soldiers had acquired for them a kind of depreciating estimate in
comparison with the more mature and manly stature of the British
soldier, to whom, indeed, they offered a strong contrast on parade; but
now, as they were seen in a moment of arduous duty, surrounded by
danger, the steadiness and courage, the prompt obedience to every
command, the alacrity of their movements and the fearless intrepidity
with which they performed every act, impressed the worthy bishop so
forcibly, that he muttered half aloud, 'Thank Heaven there are so few
of them!'
Colonel Charost resisted steadily the bishop's proffer to afford the
men some refreshment; he would not even admit of an extra allowance of
brandy to their messes. 'If we become too liberal for slight services,
we shall never be able to reward real ones,' was his answer; and the
bishop was reduced to the expedient of commemorating what he could not
reward. This, indeed, he did with the most unqualified praise, relating
in the drawing-room all that he had witnessed, and lauding French
valour and heroism to the very highest.
The better to conceal my route, and to avoid the chances of being
tracked, I sailed that evening in a fishing-boat for Killybegs, a small
harbour on the coast of Donegal, having previously exchanged my uniform
for the dress of a sailor, so that if apprehended I should pretend to
be an Ostend or Antwerp seaman, washed overboard in a gale at sea.
Fortunately for me I was not called on to perform this part, for as my
nautical experiences were of the very slightest, I should have made a
deplorable attempt at the impersonation. Assuredly the fishermen of the
smack would not have been among the number of the 'imposed upon,' for a
more sea-sick wretch never masqueraded in a blue jacket.
My only clue, when I touched land, was a certain Father Doogan, who
lived at the foot of the Bluerock Mountains, about fifteen miles from
the coast, and to whom I brought a few lines from one of the Irish
officers, a certain Bourke of Ballina. The road led in this direction,
and so little intercourse had the shore folk with the interior, that it
was with difficulty any one could be found to act as a guide thither.
At last an old fellow was discovered, who used to travel these
mountains formerly with smuggled tobacco and tea; and although, from
the discontinuance of the smuggling trade, and increased age, he had
for some years abandoned the line of business, a liberal offer of
payment induced him to accompany me as guide.
It was not without great misgivings that I looked at the very old
and almost decrepit creature who was to be my companion through a
solitary mountain region.
The few stairs he had to mount in the little inn where I put up
seemed a sore trial to his strength and chest; but he assured me that,
once out of the smoke of the town, and with his foot on the 'short
grass of the sheep-patch,' he'd be like a four-year-old; and his
neighbour having corroborated the assertion, I was fain to believe him.
Determined, however, to make his excursion subservient to profit in
his old vocation, he provided himself with some pounds of tobacco and a
little parcel of silk handkerchiefs, to dispose of amongst the
country-people, with which, and a little bag of meal slung at his back,
and a walking-stick in his hand, he presented himself at my door just
as the day was breaking.
'We 'll have a wet day I fear, Jerry,' said I, looking out.
'Not a bit of it,' replied he. 'Tis the spring-tides makes it cloudy
there beyant; but when the sun gets up it will be a fine mornin'; but I
'm thinkin' ye 're strange in them parts'; and this he said with a
keen, sharp glance under his eyes.
'Donegal is new to me, I confess,' said I guardedly.
'Yes, and the rest of Ireland, too,' said he, with a roguish leer.
'But come along, we 've a good step before us;' and with these words he
led the way down the stairs, holding the balustrade as he went, and
exhibiting every sign of age and weakness. Once in the street, however,
he stepped out more freely, and, before we got clear of the town,
walked at a fair pace, and, to all seeming, with perfect ease.
CHAPTER XXVI. A REMNANT OF
'FONTENOY'
There was no resisting the inquisitive curiosity of my companion.
The short dry cough, the little husky 'ay,' that sounded like anything
rather than assent, which followed on my replies to his questions, and,
more than all, the keen, oblique glances of his shrewd grey eyes, told
me that I had utterly failed in all my attempts at mystification, and
that he read me through and through.
'And so,' said he, at last, after a somewhat lengthy narrative of my
shipwreck, 'and so the Flemish sailors wear spurs?'
'Spurs! of course not; why should they?' asked I, in some
astonishment.
'Well, but don't they?' asked he again.
'No such thing; it would be absurd to suppose it.'
'So I thought,' rejoined he; 'and when I looked at yer honour's
boots' (it was the first time he had addressed me by this title of
deference), 'and saw the marks on the heels for spurs, I soon knew how
much of a sailor you were.'
'And if not a sailor, what am I, then?' asked I; for, in the
loneliness of the mountain region where we walked, I could afford to
throw off my disguise without risk.
'Ye're a French officer of dragoons, and God bless ye; but ye 're
young to be at the trade. Aren't I right, now?'
'Not very far from it, certainly, for I am a lieutenant of hussars,'
said I, with a little of that pride which we of the loose pelisse
always feel on the mention of our corps.
'I knew it well all along,' said he coolly; 'the way you stood in
the room, your step as you walked, and, above all, how you believed me
when I spoke of the spring-tides, and the moon only in her second
quarter, I saw you never was a sailor, anyhow. And so I set a-thinking
what you were. You were too silent for a pedlar, and your hands were
too white to be in the smuggling trade; but when I saw your boots, I
had the secret at once, and knew ye were one of the French army that
landed the other day at Killala.'
'It was stupid enough of me not to have remembered the boots!' said
I, laughing.
'Arrah, what use would it be,' replied he; 'sure ye 're too straight
in the back, and your walk is too regular, and your toes turns in too
much, for a sailor; the very way you hould a switch in your hand would
betray you!'
'So it seems, then, I must try some other disguise,' said I, 'if I
'm to keep company with people as shrewd as you are.'
'You needn't,' said he, shaking his head doubtfully; 'any that wants
to betray ye wouldn't find it hard.'
I was not much flattered by the depreciating tone in which he
dismissed my efforts at personation, and walked on for some time
without speaking.
'Yez came too late, four months too late,' said he, with a sorrowful
gesture of the hands. 'When the Wexford boys was up, and the Kildare
chaps, and plenty more ready to come in from the north, then, indeed, a
few thousand French down here in the west would have made a differ; but
what's the good in it now? The best men we had are hanged or in gaol;
some are frightened; more are traitors! 'Tis too latetoo late!'
'But not too late for a large force landing in the north, to rouse
the island to another effort for liberty.'
'Who would be the gin'ral?' asked he suddenly.
'Napper Tandy, your own countryman,' replied I proudly.
'I wish ye luck of him!' said he, with a bitter laugh; ''tis more
like mocking us than anything else the French does be, with the chaps
they sent here to be gin'rals. Sure it isn't Napper Tandy, nor a set of
young lawyers like Tone and the rest of them, we wanted. It was men
that knew how to drill and manage troopsfellows that was used to
fightin'; so that when they said a thing, we might believe that they
understhood it, at laste. I 'm ould enough to remimber the Wild
Geese, as they used to call themthe fellows that ran away from this
to take sarvice in France; and I remimber, too, the sort of men the
French were that came over to inspect themsoldiers, real soldiers,
every inch of them. And a fine sarvice it was. Volte-face! cried
he, holding himself erect, and shouldering his stick like a musket,
marche! Ha, ha! ye didn't think that was in me; but I was at the
thrade long before you were born.'
'How is this?' said I, in amazement; 'you were not in the French
army?'
'Wasn't I, though? maybe I didn't get that stick there.' And he
bared his breast as he spoke, to show the cicatrix of an old
flesh-wound from a Highlander's bayonet. 'I was at Fontenoy!'
The last few words he uttered with a triumphant pride that I shall
never forget. As for me, the mere name was magical. 'Fontenoy' was like
one of those great words which light up a whole page of history; and it
almost seemed impossible that I should see before me a soldier of that
glorious battle.
'Ay, faith!' he added, ''tis more than fifty, 'tis nigh sixty years
now since that, and I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was in the
regiment Tourville; I was recruited for the Dillon, but they
scattered us about among the other corps afterwards, because we used
now and then to be fighting and quarrellin' among one another. Well, it
was the Dillons that gained the battle; for after the English was in
the village of Fontenoy, and the French was falling back upon the
heights near the woodarrah, what's the name of the wood? Sure, I'll
forget my own name next. Ay, to be sure, Verzonthe Wood of Verzon.
Major Jodillonthat's what the French called him, but his name was Joe
Dillonturned an eight-pounder short round into a little yard of a
farmhouse, and making a breach for the gun, he opened a dreadful fire
on the English column. It was loaded with grape, and at half-musket
range, so you may think what a peppering they got. At last the column
halted and lay down; and Joe seen an officer ride off to the rear, to
bring up artillery to silence our guns. A few minutes more and it would
be all over with us. So Joe shouts out as loud as he could, Cavalry
there! tell off by threes, and prepare to charge. I needn't tell you
that the divil a horse nor a rider was within a mile of us at the time;
but the English didn't know that, and, hearin' the ordher, up they
jumps, and we heerd the word passin', Prepare to receive cavalry.
They formed square at once, and the same minute we plumped into them
with such a charge as tore a lane right through the middle of them.
Before they could recover, we opened a platoon-fire on their flank;
they staggered, broke, and at last fell back in disorder upon Aeth,
with the whole of the French army after them. Such firin'grape, round
shot, and musketryI never seed afore, and we all shouting like
divils, for it was more like a hunt nor anything else; for ye see the
Dutch never came up, but left the English to do all the work
themselves, and that's the reason they couldn't form, for they had no
supportin' column.
'It was then I got that stick of the bayonet, for there was such
runnin' that we only thought of pelting after them as hard as we could;
but ye see, there's nothin' so treacherous as a Highlander. I was just
behind one, and had my sword-point between his bladebones ready to run
him through, when he turned short about, and run his bayonet into me
under the short ribs, and that was all I saw of the battle; for I bled
till I fainted, and never knew more of what happened. 'Tisn't by way of
making little of Frenchmen I say it, for I sarved too long wid them for
thatbut sorra taste of that victory ever they'd see if it wasn't for
the Dillons, and Major Joe that commanded them! The English knows it
well, too! Maybe they don't do us many a spite for it to this very
day!'
'And what became of you after that?'
'That same summer I came over to Scotland with the young Prince
Charles, and was at the battle of Prestonpans afterwards! and, what's
worse, I was at Culloden! Oh, that was the terrible day. We were dead
bate before we began the battle. We were on the march from one o'clock
the night before, under the most dreadful rain ever ye seen! We lost
our way twice, and after four hours of hard marching, we found
ourselves opposite a milldam we crossed early that same morning; for
the guides led us all astray! Then came ordhers to wheel about face and
go back again; and back we went, cursing the blaguards that deceived
us, and almost faintin' with hunger. Some of us had nothing to eat for
two days, and the Prince, I seen myself, had only a brown bannock to a
wooden measure of whisky for his own breakfast. Well, it's no use
talking; we were bate, and we retreated to Inverness that night, and
next morning we surrendered and laid down our armsthat is, the
Régiment do Tournay and the Voltigeurs de Metz, the corps I was in
myself.'
'And did you return to France?'
'No; I made my way back to Ireland, and after loiterin' about home
some time, and not liking the ways of turning to work again, I took
sarvice with one Mister Brooke, of Castle Brooke, in Fermanagh, a young
man that was just come of age, and as great a divil, God forgive me, as
ever was spawned. He was a Protestant, but he didn't care much about
one side or the other, but only wanted diversion and his own fun out of
the world; and faix he took it, too! He had plenty of money, was a fine
man to look at, and had courage to face a lion!
'The first place we went to was Aix-la-Chapelle, for Mr. Brooke was
named somethingI forget whatto Lord Sandwich, that was going there
as an Ambassador.
It was a grand life there while it lasted. Such liveries, such
coaches, such elegant dinners every day, I never saw even in Paris. But
my master was soon sent away for a piece of wildness he did. There was
an ould Austrian therea Count Riedensegg was his name-and he was
always plottin' and schamin' with this, that, and the other; buyin' up
the sacrets of others, and gettin' at their private papers one way or
the other; and at last he begins to thry the same game with us; and as
he saw that Mr. Brooke was very fond of high play, and would bet
anything one offered him, the ould count sends for a great gambler from
Vienna, the greatest villain, they say, that ever touched a card. Ye
may have heerd of him, tho' 'twas long ago that he lived, for he was
well known in them times. He was the Baron von Breokendorf, and a great
friend afterwards of the Prince Ragint and all the other blaguards in
London.
'Well, sir, the baron arrives in great state, with despatches, they
said, but sorrow other despatch he carried nor some packs of marked
cards, and a dice-box that could throw sixes whenever ye wanted; and he
puts up at the Grand Hotel, with all his servants in fine liveries and
as much state as a prince. That very day Mr. Brooke dined with the
count, and in the evening himself and the baron sits down to the cards;
and, pretending to be only playin' for silver, they were bettin' a
hundred guineas on every game.
'I always heerd that my master was cute with the cards, and that few
was equal to him in any game with pasteboard or ivory; but, be my
conscience, he met his match now, for if it was ould Nick was playin'
he couldn't do the thrick nater nor the baron. He made everything come
up just like magic: if he wanted a seven of diamonds, or an ace of
spades, or the knave of clubs, there it was for you.
'Most gentlemen would have lost temper at seein' the luck so dead
agin' them, and everything goin' so bad; but my master only smiled, and
kept muttering to himself, Faix, its beautiful; by my conscience its
elegant; I never saw anybody could do it like that. At last the baron
stops and asks, What is it he's saying to himself? I'll tell you
by-and-by, says my master, when we're done playing; and so on they
went, betting higher and higher, till at last the stakes wasn't very
far from a thousand pounds on a single card. At the end, Mr. Brooke
lost everything, and in the last game, by way of generosity, the baron
says to him, Double or quit? and he tuk it.
'This time luck stood to my master, and he turned the queen of
hearts; and as there was only one card could beat him, the game was all
as one as his own. The baron takes up the pack, and begins to deal.
Wait, says my master, leaning over the table, and talking in a
whisper; wait, says he; what are ye doin' there wid your thumb? for
sure enough he had his thumb dug hard into the middle of the pack.
'Do you mane to insult me? says the baron, getting mighty red, and
throwing down the cards on the table. Is that what you're at?
'Go on with the deal, says Mr. Brooke quietly; but listen to me,
and here he dropped his voice to a whisper, as sure as you turn the
king of hearts, I'll send a bullet through your skull! Go on, now, and
don't rise from that seat till you 've finished the game. Faix he just
did as he was bid; he turned a little two or three of diamonds, and
gettin' up from the table, he left the room, and the next morning there
was no more seen of him in Aix-la-Chapelle. But that wasn't the end of
it, for scarce was the baron two posts on his journey when my master
sends in his name, and says he wants to speak to Count Riedensegg.
There was a long time and a great debatin', I believe, whether they'd
let him in or not; for the count couldn't make if it was mischief he
was after; but at last he was ushered into the bedroom where the other
was in bed.
'Count, says he, after he fastened the door, and saw that they was
alone, Count, you tried a dirty thrick with that dirty spalpeen of a
baronan ould blaguard that's as well known as Preney the robberbut
I forgive you for it all, for you did it in the way of business. I know
well what you was afther; you wanted a peep at our despatchesthere,
ye needn't look cross and angrywhy wouldn't ye do it, just as the
baron always took a sly glance at my cards before he played his own.
Well, now, I'm just in the humour to sarve you. They're not trating me
as they ought here, and I'm going away, and if you'll give me a few
letthers to some of the pretty women in Vienna, Katinka Batthyani, and
Amalia Gradoffseky, and one or two men in the best set, I'll send you
in return something that will surprise you.
'It was after a long time and great batin' about the bush, that the
ould count came in; but the sight of a sacret cipher did the business,
and he consented.
'There it is, says Mr. Brooke, there's the whole key to our
correspondence; study it well, and I'll bring you a sacret despatch in
the eveningsomething that will surprise you.
'Ye willwill ye? says the count.
'On the honour of an Irish gentleman, I will, says Mr. Brooke.
'The count sits down on the spot and writes the letters to all the
princesses and countesses in Vienna, saying that Mr. Brooke was the
elegantest, and politest, and most trusty young gentleman ever he met;
and telling them to treat him with every consideration.
'There will be another account of me, says the master to me, by
the post; but I 'll travel faster, and give me a fair start, and I ask
no more.
'And he was as good as his word, for he started that evening for
Vienna, without lave or license, and that's the way he got dismissed
from his situation.'
'And did he break his promise to the count, or did he really send
him any intelligence?'
'He kept his word, like a gentleman; he promised him something that
would surprise him, and so he did. He sent him The Weddin' of
Ballyporeen in cipher. It took a week to make out, and I suppose they
've never got to the right understandin' it yet.'
'I'm curious to hear how he was received in Vienna, after this,'
said I. 'I suppose you accompanied him to that city?'
'Troth I did, and a short life we led there. But here we are now, at
the end of our journey. That's Father Doogan's down there, that small,
low, thatched house in the hollow.'
'A lonely spot, too. I don't see another near it for miles on any
side.'
'Nor is there. His chapel is at Murrah, about three miles off. My
eyes isn't over good; but I don't think there's any smoke coming out of
the chimley.'
'You are rightthere is not.'
'He's not at home, then, and that's a bad job for us, for there's
not another place to stop the night in.'
'But there will be surely some one in the house.'
'Most likely not; 'tis a brat of a boy from Murrah does be with him
when he's at home, and I'm sure he's not there now.'
This reply was not very cheering, nor was the prospect itself much
brighter. The solitary cabin, to which we were approaching, stood in a
rugged glen, the sides of which were covered with a low furze,
intermixed here and there with the scrub of what once had been an oak
forest. A brown, mournful tint was over everythingsky and landscape
alike; and even the little stream of clear water that wound its twining
course along took the same colour from the gravelly bed it flowed over.
Not a cow nor sheep was to be seen, nor even a bird; all was silent and
still.
'There's few would like to pass their lives down there, then!' said
my companion, as if speaking to himself.
'I suppose the priest, like a soldier, has no choice in these
matters.'
'Sometimes he has, though. Father Doogan might have had the pick of
the county, they say; but he chose this little quiet spot here. He's a
friar of some ordher abroad, and when he came over, two or three years
ago, he could only spake a little Irish, and, I believe, less English;
but there wasn't his equal for other tongues in all Europe. They wanted
him to stop and be the head of a college somewhere in Spain, but he
wouldn't. There was work to do in Ireland, he said, and there he'd
go, and to the wildest and laste civilised bit of it besides; and ye
see that he was not far ont in his choice when he took Murrah.'
'Is he much liked here by the people?'
'They'd worship him, if he'd let them, that's what it is; for if he
has more larnin' and knowledge in his head than ever a bishop in
Ireland, there's not a child in the barony his equal for simplicity. He
that knows the names of the stars, and what they do be doing, and where
the world's going, and what's comin' afther her, hasn't a thought for
the wickedness of this life, no more than a sucking infant! He could
tell you every crop to put in your ground from this to the day of
judgment, and I don't think he'd know which end of the spade goes into
the ground.'
While we were thus talking, we reached the door, which, as well as
the windows, was closely barred and fastened. The great padlock,
however, on the former, with characteristic acuteness, was looked
without being hasped, so that, in a few seconds, my old guide had
undone all the fastenings, and we found ourselves under shelter.
A roomy kitchen, with a few cooking utensils, formed the entrance
hall; and as a small supply of turf stood in one corner, my companion
at once proceeded to make a fire, congratulating me as he went on with
the fact of our being housed, for a long-threatening thunderstorm had
already burst, and the rain was now swooping along in torrents.
While he was thus busied, I took a ramble through the little cabin,
curious to see something of the 'interior' of one whose life had
already interested me. There were but two small chambers, one at either
side of the kitchen. The first I entered was a bedroom, the only
furniture being a common bed, or a tressel like that of a hospital, a
little coloured print of St. Michael adorning the wall overhead. The
bed-covering was cleanly, but patched in many places, and bespeaking
much poverty, and the black 'soutane' of silk that hung against the
wall seemed to show long years of service. The few articles of any
pretensions to comfort were found in the sitting-room, where a small
book-shelf with some well-thumbed volumes, and a writing-table covered
with papers, maps, and a few pencil-drawings, appeared. All seemed as
if he had just quitted the spot a few minutes before; the pencil lay
across a half-finished sketch; two or three wild plants were laid
within, the leaves of a little book on botany; and a chess problem,
with an open book beside it, still waited for solution on a little
board, whose workmanship clearly enough betrayed it to be by his own
hands.
I inspected everything with an interest inspired by all I had been
hearing of the poor priest, and turned over the little volumes of his
humble library, to trace, if I might, some due to his habits in his
readings. They were all, however, of one cast and characterreligious
tracts and offices, covered with annotations and remarks, and showing
by many signs the most careful and frequent perusal. It was easy to see
that his taste for drawing or for chess were the only dissipations he
permitted himself to indulge. What a strange life of privation, thought
I, alone and companionless as he must be! and while speculating on the
sense of duty which impelled such a man to accept a post so humble and
unpromising, I perceived that on the wall right opposite to me there
hung a picture, covered by a little curtain of green silk.
Curious to behold the saintly effigy so carefully enshrined, I drew
aside the curtain, and what was my astonishment to find a little
coloured sketch of a boy about twelve years old, dressed in the tawdry
and much-worn uniform of a drummer. I started. Something flashed
suddenly across my mind, that the features, the dress, the air, were
not unknown to me. Was I awake, or were my senses misleading me? I took
it down and held it to the light, and as well as my trembling hands
permitted, I spelled out at the foot of the drawing, the words 'Le
Petit Maurice, as I saw him last.' Yes, it was my own portrait, and the
words were in the writing of my dearest friend in the world, the Père
Michel. Scarce knowing what I did, I ransacked books and papers on
every side, to confirm my suspicions, and although his name was nowhere
to be found, I had no difficulty in recognising his hand, now so
forcibly recalled to my memory.
Hastening into the kitchen, I told my guide that I must set out to
Murrah at once, that it was, above all, important that I should see the
priest immediately. It was in vain that he told me he was unequal to
the fatigue of going farther, that the storm was increasing, the
mountain torrents were swelling to a formidable size, that the path
could not be discovered after dark; I could not brook the thought of
delay, and would not listen to the detail of difficulties. 'I must see
him and I will,' were my answers to every obstacle. If I were resolved
on one side, he was no less obstinate on the other; and after
explaining with patience all the dangers and hazards of the attempt,
and still finding me unconvinced, he boldly declared that I might go
alone, if I would, but that he would not leave the shelter of a roof,
such a night, for any one.
There was nothing in the shape of argument I did not essay. I tried
bribery, I tried menace, flattery, intimidation, alland all with the
like result. 'Wherever he is to-night, he'll not leave it, that's
certain,' was the only satisfaction he would vouchsafe, and I retired
beaten from the contest, and disheartened. Twice I left the cottage,
resolved to make the journey alone, but the utter darkness of the
night, the torrents of rain that beat against my face, soon showed me
the impracticability of the attempt, and I retraced my steps
crest-fallen and discomfited. The most intense curiosity to know how
and by what chances he had come to Ireland mingled with my ardent
desire to meet him. What stores of reminiscence had we to interchange!
Nor was it without pride that I bethought me of the position I then
heldan officer of a hussar regiment, a soldier of more than one
campaign, and high on the list for promotion. If I hoped, too, that
many of the good father's prejudices against the career I followed
would give way to the records of my own past life, I also felt how, in
various respects, I had myself conformed to many of his notions. We
should be dearer, closer friends than ever. This I was sure of.
I never slept the whole night through. Tired and weary as the day's
journey had left me, excitement was still too strong for repose, and I
walked up and down, lay for half an hour on my bed, rose to look out,
and peer for coming dawn. Never did hours lag so lazily. The darkness
seemed to last for an eternity, and when at last day did break, it was
through the lowering gloom of skies still charged with rain, and an
atmosphere loaded with vapour.
'This is a day for the chimney-corner, and thankful to have it we
ought to be,' said my old guide, as he replenished the turf fire, at
which he was preparing our breakfast. 'Father Doogan will be home here
afore night, I'm sure, and as we have nothing better to do, I'll tell
you some of our old adventures when I lived with Mr. Brooke. Twill
sarve to pass the time, anyway.'
'I'm off to Murrah, as soon as I have eaten something,' replied I.
'Tis little you know what a road it is,' said he, smiling dubiously.
''Tis four mountain rivers you 'd have to cross, two of them, at least,
deeper than your head, and there's the pass of Barnascorney, where you
'd have to turn the side of a mountain, with a precipice hundreds of
feet below you, and a wind blowing that would wreck a seventy-four!
There 's never a man in the barony would venture over the same path
with a storm ragin' from the nor'-west.'
'I never heard of a man being blown away off a mountain,' said I,
laughing contemptuously.
'Arrah, didn't ye, then? then maybe ye never lived in parts where
the heaviest ploughs and harrows that can be laid in the thatch of a
cabin are flung here and there, like straws, and the strongest timbers
torn out of the walls, and scattered for miles along the coast, like
the spars of a shipwreck.'
'But so long as a man has hands to grip with'
'How ye talk! sure, when the wind can tear the strongest trees up by
the roots; when it rolls big rocks fifty and a hundred feet out of
their place; when the very shingle on the mountain-side is flying about
like dust and sand, where would your grip be? It is not only on the
mountains either, but down in the plains, ay, even in the narrowest
glens, that the cattle lies down under shelter of the rocks; and many's
the time a sheep, or even a heifer, is swept away off the cliffs into
the sea.'
With many an anecdote of storm and hurricane he seasoned our little
meal of potatoes. Some curious enough, as illustrating the
precautionary habits of a peasantry, who, on land, experience many of
the vicissitudes supposed peculiar to the sea; others too miraculous
for easy credence, but yet vouched for by him with every affirmative of
truth. He displayed all his powers of agreeability and amusement, but
his tales fell on unwilling ears, and when our meal was over I started
up and began to prepare for the road.
'So you will go, will you?' said he peevishly. ''Tis in your country
to be obstinate, so I 'll say nothing more; but maybe 'tis only into
throubles you 'd be running, after all!'
'I'm determined on it,' said I, 'and I only ask you to tell me what
road to take.'
'There is only one, so there is no mistakin' it; keep to the
sheep-path, and never leave it except at the torrents; you must pass
them how ye can. And when ye come to four big rocks in the plain, leave
them to your left, and keep the side of the mountain for two miles,
till ye see the smoke of the village underneath you. Murrah is a small
place, and ye'll have to look out sharp, or maybe ye'll miss it.'
'That's enough,' said I, putting some silver in his hand as I
pressed it. 'We 'll probably meet no more; good-bye, and many thanks
for your pleasant company.'
'No, we're not like to meet again,' said he thoughtfully, 'and
that's the reason I'd like to give you a bit of advice. Hear me, now,'
said he, drawing closer and talking in a whisper; 'you can't go far in
this country without being known; 'tisn't your looks alone, but your
voice, and your tongue, will show what ye are. Get away out of it as
fast as you can! there's thraitors in every cause, and there's chaps in
Ireland would rather make money as informers than earn it by honest
industry. Get over to the Scotch islands; get to Islay or Barra; get
anywhere out of this for the time.'
'Thanks for the counsel,' said I, somewhat coldly, 'I'll have time
to think over it as I go along;' and with these words I set forth on my
journey.
CHAPTER XXVII. THE CRANAGH
I will not weary my reader with a narrative of my mountain walk, nor
the dangers and difficulties which beset me on that day of storm and
hurricane. Few as were the miles to travel, what with accidents,
mistakes of the path, and the halts to take shelter, I only reached
Murrah as the day was declining.
The little village, which consisted of some twenty cabins, occupied
a narrow gorge between two mountains, and presented an aspect of
greater misery than I had ever witnessed before, not affording even the
humblest specimen of a house of entertainment. From some peasants that
were lounging in the street I learned that 'Father Doogan' had passed
through two days before in company with a naval officer, whom they
believed to be French. At least 'he came from one of the ships in the
lough, and could speak no English.' Since that the priest had not
returned, and many thought that he had gone away for ever. This story
varied in a few unimportant particulars. I also learned that a squadron
of several sail had, for three or four days, been lying at the entrance
of Lough Swilly, with, it was said, large reinforcements for the 'army
of independence.' There was then no time to be lost; here was the very
force which I had been sent to communicate with; there were the troops
that should at that moment be disembarking. The success of my mission
might all depend now on a little extra exertion, and so I at once
engaged a guide to conduct me to the coast; and having fortified myself
with a glass of mountain whisky I felt ready for the road.
My guide could only speak a very little English, so that our way was
passed in almost unbroken silence; and as, for security, he followed
the least frequented paths, we scarcely met a living creature as we
went. It was with a strange sense of half pride, half despondency, that
I bethought me of my own position therea Frenchman alone, and
separated from his countrymenin a wild mountain region of Ireland,
carrying about him documents that, if detected, might peril his life;
involved in a cause that had for its object the independence of a
nation, and that against the power of the mightiest kingdom in Europe.
An hour earlier or later, an accident by the way, a swollen torrent, a
chance impediment of any kind that should delay meand what a change
might that produce in the whole destiny of the world!
The despatches I carried conveyed instructions the most precise and
accurate: the places for combined action of the two armiesinformation
as to the actual state of parties, and the condition of the native
forces, was contained in them. All that could instruct the newly-come
generals, or encourage them to decisive measures, were there; and yet,
on what narrow contingencies did their safe arrival depend! It was
thus, in exaggerating to myself the part I playedin elevating my
humble position into all the importance of a high trustthat I
sustained my drooping spirits, and acquired energy to carry me through
fatigue and exhaustion. During that night, and the greater part of the
following day, we walked on, almost without halt, scarcely eating, and,
except by an occasional glass of whisky, totally unrefreshed; and, I am
free to own, that my poor guidea barelegged youth of about seventeen,
without any of those high-sustaining illusions which stirred within my
heartsuffered far less either from hunger or weariness than I did. So
much for motives. A shilling or two were sufficient to equalise the
balance against all the weight of my heroism and patriotic ardour
together.
A bright sun, and a sharp wind from the north, had succeeded to the
lowering sky and heavy atmosphere of the morning, and we travelled
along with light hearts and brisk steps, breasting the side of a steep
ascent, from the summit of which, my guide told me, I should behold the
seathe sea! not only the great plain on which I expected to see our
armament, but the link which bound me to my country! Suddenly, just as
I turned the angle of a cliff, it burst upon my sightone vast mirror
of golden splendourappearing almost at my feet! In the yellow gleams
of a setting sun, long columns of azure-coloured light streaked its
calm surface, and tinged the atmosphere with a warm and rosy hue. While
I was lost in admiration of the picture, I heard the sound of voices
close beneath me, and, on looking down, saw two figures who, with
telescope in hand, were steadily gazing on a little bay that extended
towards the west.
At first, my attention was more occupied by the strangers than by
the object of their curiosity, and I remarked that they were dressed
and equipped like sportsmen, their guns and game-bags lying against the
rock behind them.
'Do you still think that they are hovering about the coast, Tom?'
said the elder of the two, 'or are you not convinced, at last, that I
am right?'
'I believe you are,' replied the other; 'but it certainly did not
look like it yesterday evening, with their boats rowing ashore every
half-hour, signals flying, and blue lights burning; all seemed to
threaten a landing.'
'If they ever thought of it they soon changed their minds,' said the
former. 'The defeat of their comrades in the west, and the apathy of
the peasantry here, would have cooled down warmer ardour than theirs.
There they go, Tom. I only hope that they'll fall in with Warren's
squadron, and French insolence receive at sea the lesson we failed to
give them on land.'
'Not so,' rejoined the younger; 'Humbert's capitulation, and the
total break up of the expedition, ought to satisfy-even your
patriotism.'
'It fell far short of it, then!' cried the other. 'I'd never have
treated those fellows other than as bandits and freebooters. I'd have
hanged them as highwaymen. Theirs was less war than rapine; but what
could you expect? I have been assured that Humbert's force consisted of
little other than liberated felons and galley-slavesthe refuse of the
worst population of Europe!'
Distracted with the terrible tidings I had overheardoverwhelmed
with the sight of the ships, now glistening like bright specks on the
verge of the horizon, I forgot my own positionmy safetyeverything
but the insult thus cast upon my gallant comrades.
'Whoever said so was a liar, and a base coward, to boot!' cried I,
springing down from the height and confronting them both where they
stood. They started back, and, seizing their guns, assumed an attitude
of defence, and then, quickly perceiving that I was alonefor the boy
had taken to flight as fast as he couldthey stood regarding me with
faces of intense astonishment.
'Yes,' said I, still boiling with passion, 'you are two to one, on
your own soil besides, the odds you are best used to; and yet I repeat
it, that he who asperses the character of General Humbert's force is a
liar.'
'He's French.'
'No, he's Irish,' muttered the elder.
'What signifies my country, sirs,' cried I passionately, 'if I
demand retraction for a falsehood.'
'It signifies more than you think of, young man,' said the elder
calmly, and without evincing even the slightest irritation in his
manner. 'If you be a Frenchman born, the lenity of our Government
accords you the privilege of a prisoner of war. If you be only French
by adoption, and a uniform, a harsher destiny awaits you.'
'And who says I am a prisoner yet?' asked I, drawing myself up, and
staring them steadily in the face.
'We should be worse men, and poorer patriots than you give us credit
for, or we should be able to make you so,' said he quietly; 'but this
is no time for ill-temper on either side. The expedition has failed.
Well, if you will not believe me, read that. There, in that paper, you
will see the official account of General Humbert's surrender at Boyle.
The news is already over the length and breadth of the island; even if
you only landed last night I cannot conceive how you should be ignorant
of it!' I covered my face with my hands to hide my emotion; and he went
on: 'If you be French you have only to claim and prove your
nationality, and you partake the fortunes of your countrymen.'
'And if he be not,' whispered the other, in a voice which, although
low, I could still detect, 'why should we give him up?'
'Hush, Tom, be quiet,' replied the elder, 'let him plead for
himself.'
'Let me see the newspaper,' said I, endeavouring to seem calm and
collected; and, taking it at the place he pointed out, I read the
heading in capitals, 'Capitulation of General Humbert and his whole
Force.' I could see no more. I could not trace the details of so
horrible a disaster, nor did I ask to know by what means it occurred.
My attitude and air of apparent occupation, however, deceived the
other; and the elder, supposing that I was engaged in considering the
paragraph, said, 'You'll see the Government proclamation on the other
sidea general amnesty to all under the rank of officers in the rebel
army, who give up their arms within six days. The French to be treated
as prisoners of war.'
'Is he too late to regain the fleet?' whispered the younger.
'Of course he is. They are already hull down; besides, who's to
assist his escape, Tom? You forget the position he stands in.'
'But I do not forget it,' answered I; 'and you need not be afraid
that I will seek to compromise you, gentlemen. Tell me where to find
the nearest justice of the peace, and I will go and surrender myself.'
'It is your wisest and best policy,' said the elder. 'I am not in
the commission, but a neighbour of mine is, and lives a few miles off,
and, if you like, we 'll accompany you to his house.'
I accepted the offer, and soon found myself descending the steep
path of the mountain in perfect good-fellowship with the two strangers.
It is likely enough, if they had taken any peculiar pains to obliterate
the memory of our first meeting, or if they had displayed any
extraordinary efforts of conciliation, that I should have been on my
guard against them; but their manners, on the contrary, were easy and
unaffected in every respect. They spoke of the expedition sensibly and
dispassionately, and while acknowledging that there were many things
they would like to see altered in the English rule of Ireland, they
were very averse from the desire of a foreign intervention to rectify
them.
I avowed to them that we had been grossly deceived. That all the
representations made to us depicted Ireland as a nation of soldiers,
wanting only arms and military stores to rise as a vast army. That the
peasantry were animated by one spirit, and the majority of the gentry
willing to hazard everything on the issue of a struggle. Our Killala
experiences, of which I detailed some, heartily amused them, and it was
in a merry interchange of opinions that we now walked along together.
A cluster of houses, too small to be called a village, and known as
the 'Cranagh,' stood in a little nook of the bay; and here they lived.
They were brothers; and the elder held some small appointment in the
revenue, which maintained them as bachelors in this cheap country. In a
low conversation that passed between them it was agreed that they would
detain me as their guest for that evening, and on the morrow accompany
me to the magistrate's house, about five miles distant. I was not sorry
to accept their hospitable offer. I longed for a few hours of rest and
respite before embarking on another sea of troubles. The failure of the
expedition, and the departure of the fleet, had overwhelmed me with
grief, and I was in no mood to confront new perils.
If my new acquaintances could have read my inmost thoughts, their
manner towards me could not have displayed more kindness or
good-breeding. Not pressing me with questions on subjects where the
greatest curiosity would have been permissible, they suffered me to
tell only so much as I wished of our late plans; and, as if purposely
to withdraw my thoughts from the unhappy theme of our defeat, led me to
talk of France, and her career in Europe.
It was not without surprise that I saw how conversant the newspapers
had made them with European politics, nor how widely different did
events appear when viewed from afar off, and by the lights of another
and different nationality. Thus all that we were doing on the Continent
to propagate liberal notions, and promote the spread of freedom, seemed
to their eyes but the efforts of an ambitious power to crush abroad
what they had annihilated at home, and extend their own influence in
disseminating doctrines, all to revert, one day or other, to some grand
despotism, whenever the man arose capable to exercise it. The elder
would not even concede to us that we were fit for freedom.
'You are glorious fellows at destroying an old edifice,' said he,
'but sorry architects when comes the question of rebuilding; and as to
liberty, your highest notion of it is an occasional anarchy like
schoolboys, you will bear any tyranny for ten years, to have ten days
of a barring out afterward.'
I was not much flattered by these opinions; and, what was worse, I
could not get them out of my head all night afterwards. Many things I
had never doubted about now kept puzzling and confounding me, and I
began, for the first time, to know the misery of the struggle between
implicit obedience and conviction.
CHAPTER XXVIII. SOME NEW
ACQUAINTANCES
I went to bed at night in all apparent health; save from the flurry
and excitement of an anxious mind, I was in no respect different from
my usual mood; and yet, when I awoke next morning, my head was
distracted with a racking pain, cramps were in all my limbs, and I
could not turn or even move without intense suffering. The long
exposure to rain, while my mind was in a condition of extreme
excitement, had brought on an attack of fever, and before evening set
in, I was raving in wild delirium. Every scene I had passed through,
each eventful incident of my life, came flashing in disjointed portions
through my poor brain, and I raved away of France, of Germany, of the
dreadful days of terror, and the fearful orgies of the 'Revolution.'
Scenes of strife and strugglethe terrible conflicts of the
streetsall rose before me; and the names of every blood-stained hero
of France now mingled with the obscure titles of Irish insurrection.
What narratives of my early life I may have givenwhat stories I
may have revealed of my strange career, I cannot tell; but the interest
my kind hosts took in me grew stronger every day. There was no care nor
kindness they did not lavish on me. Taking alternate nights to sit up
with me, they watched beside my bed like brothers. All that affection
could give they rendered me; and even from their narrow fortunes they
paid a physician, who came from a distant town to visit me. When I was
sufficiently recovered to leave my bed, and sit at the window, or
stroll slowly in the garden, I became aware of the full extent to which
their kindness had carried them, and in the precautions for secrecy I
saw the peril to which my presence exposed them. From an excess of
delicacy towards me, they did not allude to the subject, nor show the
slightest uneasiness about the matter; but day by day some little
circumstance would occur, some slight and trivial fact reveal the state
of anxiety they lived in.
They were averse, too, from all discussion of late events, and
either answered my questions vaguely or with a certain reserve; and
when I hinted at my hope of being soon able to appear before a
magistrate and establish my claim as a French citizen, they replied
that the moment was an unfavourable one: the lenity of the Government
had latterly been abused, their gracious intentions misstated and
pervertedthat, in fact, a reaction towards severity had occurred, and
military law and courts-martial were summarily disposing of cases that
a short time back would have received the mildest sentences of civil
tribunals. It was clear, from all they said, that if the rebellion was
suppressed, the insurrectionary feeling was not extinguished, and that
England was the very reverse of tranquil on the subject of Ireland.
It was to no purpose that I repeated my personal indifference to all
these measures of severity, that in my capacity as a Frenchman and an
officer I stood exempt from all the consequences they alluded to. Their
reply was, that in times of trouble and alarm things were done which
quieter periods would never have sanctioned, and that indiscreet and
over-zealous men would venture on acts that neither law nor justice
could substantiate. In fact, they gave me to believe, that such was the
excitement of the moment, such the embittered vengeance of those whose
families or fortunes had suffered by the rebellion, that no reprisals
would be thought too heavy, nor any harshness too great, for those who
aided the movement.
Whatever I might have said against the injustice of this proceeding,
in my secret heart I had to confess that it was only what might have
been expected; and coming from a country where it was enough to call a
man an aristocrat, and then cry à la lanterne! I saw nothing
unreasonable in it all.
My friends advised me, therefore, instead of preferring any formal
claim to immunity, to take the first occasion of escaping to America,
whence I could not fail, later on, of returning to France. At first,
the counsel only irritated me, but by degrees, as I came to think more
calmly and seriously of the difficulties, I began to regard it in a
different light; and at last I fully concurred in the wisdom of the
advice, and resolved on adopting it.
To sit on the cliffs, and watch the ocean for hours, became now the
practice of my lifeto gaze from daybreak almost to the falling of
night oyer the wide expanse of sea, straining my eyes at each sail, and
conjecturing to what distant shore they were tending. The hopes which
at first sustained at last deserted me, as week after week passed over,
and no prospect of escape appeared. The life of inactivity gradually
depressed my spirits, and I fell into a low and moping condition, in
which my hours rolled over without thought or notice. Still, I returned
each day to my accustomed spot, a lofty peak of rock that stood over
the sea, and from which the view extended for miles on every side.
There, half hid in the wild heath, I used to lie for hours long, my
eyes bent upon the sea, but my thoughts wandering away to a past that
never was to be renewed, and a future I was never destined to
experience.
Although late in the autumn, the season was mild and genial, and the
sea calm and waveless, save along the shore, where, even in the
stillest weather, the great breakers came tumbling in with a force
independent of storm; and, listening to their booming thunder, I have
dreamed away hour after hour unconsciously. It was one day, as I lay
thus, that my attention was caught by the sight of three large vessels
on the very verge of the horizon. Habit had now given me a certain
acuteness, and I could perceive from their height and size that they
were ships of war. For a while they seemed as if steering for the
entrance of the lough, but afterwards they changed their course, and
headed towards the west. At length they separated, and one of smaller
size, and probably a frigate from her speed, shot forward beyond the
rest, and, in less than half an hour, disappeared from view. The other
two gradually sank beneath the horizon, and not a sail was to be seen
over the wide expanse. While speculating on what errand the squadron
might be employed, I thought I could hear the deep and rolling sound of
distant cannonading. My ear was too practised in the thundering crash
of the breakers along shore to confound the noises; and as I listened I
fancied that I could distinguish the sound of single guns from the
louder roar of a whole broadside. This could not mean saluting, nor was
it likely to be a mere exercise of the fleet. They were not times when
much powder was expended un-profitably. Was it then an engagement? But
with what or whom? Tandy's expedition, as it was called, had long since
sailed, and must ere this have been captured or safe in France. I tried
a hundred conjectures to explain the mystery, which now, from the long
continuance of the sounds, seemed to denote a desperately contested
engagement. It was not till after three hours that the cannonading
ceased, and then I could descry a thick dark canopy of smoke that hung
hazily over one spot in the horizon, as if marking out the scene of the
struggle. With what aching, torturing anxiety I burned to know what had
happened, and with which side rested the victory!
Well habituated to hear of the English as victors in every naval
engagement, I yet went on hoping against hope itself, that Fortune
might for once have favoured us; nor was it till the falling night
prevented my being able to trace out distant objects, that I could
leave the spot and turn homewards. With wishes so directly opposed to
theirs, I did not venture to tell my two friends what I had witnessed,
nor trust myself to speak on a subject where my feelings might have
betrayed me into unseemly expressions of my hopes. I was glad to find
that they knew nothing of the matter, and talked away indifferently of
other subjects. By daybreak the next morning I was at my post, a sharp
nor'-wester blowing, and a heavy sea rolling in from the Atlantic.
Instinctively carrying my eyes to the spot where I had heard the
cannonade, I could distinctly see the tops of spars, as if the upper
rigging of some vessels beyond the horizon.
Gradually they rose higher and higher, till I could detect the
yard-arms and cross-trees, and finally the great hulls of five vessels
that were bearing towards me.
For above an hour I could see their every movement, as with all
canvas spread they held on majestically towards the land, when at
length a lofty promontory of the bay intervened, and they were lost to
my view. I jumped to my legs at once, and set off down the cliff to
reach the headland, from whence an uninterrupted prospect extended. The
distance was greater than I had supposed, and in my eagerness to take a
direct line to it, I got entangled in difficult gorges among the hills,
and impeded by mountain torrents which often compelled me to go back a
considerable distance; it was already late in the afternoon as I gained
the crest of a ridge over the bay of Lough Swilly. Beneath me lay the
calm surface of the lough, landlocked and still; but farther out
seaward there was a sight that made my very limbs tremble, and sickened
my heart as I beheld it. There was a large frigate, that, with
studding-sails set, stood boldly up the bay, followed by a dismasted
three-decker, at whose mizzen floated the ensign of England over the
French tricolour. Several other vessels were grouped about the offing,
all of them displaying English colours.
The dreadful secret was out. There had been a tremendous sea-fight,
and the Hoche, of seventy-four guns, was the sad spectacle
which, with shattered sides and ragged rigging, I now beheld entering
the bay. Oh, the humiliation of that sight! I can never forget it. And
although on all the surrounding hills scarcely fifty country-people
were assembled, I felt as if the whole of Europe were spectators of our
defeat. The flag I had always believed triumphant now hung
ignominiously beneath the ensign of the enemy, and the decks of our
noble ship were crowded with the uniforms of English sailors and
marines.
The blue water surged and spouted from the shot-holes as the great
hull loomed heavily from side to side, and broken spars and ropes still
hung over the side, as she went, a perfect picture of defeat. Never was
disaster more legibly written. I watched her till the anchor dropped,
and then, in a burst of emotion, I turned away, unable to endure more.
As I hastened homeward I met the elder of my two hosts coming to meet
me, in considerable anxiety. He had heard of the capture of the
Hoche, but his mind was far more intent on another and less
important event. Two men had just been at his cottage with a warrant
for my arrest. The document bore my name and rank, as well as a
description of my appearance, and significantly alleged that, although
Irish by birth, I affected a foreign accent for the sake of
concealment.
'There is no chance of escape now,' said my friend; 'we are
surrounded with spies on every hand. My advice is, therefore, to hasten
to Lord Cavan's quartershe is now at Letterkennyand give yourself
up as a prisoner. There is at least the chance of your being treated
like the rest of your countrymen. I have already provided you with a
horse and a guide, for I must not accompany you myself. Go, then,
Maurice. We shall never see each other again; but we'll not forget you,
nor do we fear that you will forget us. My brother could not trust
himself to take leave of you, but his best wishes and prayers go with
you.'
Such were the last words my kind-hearted friend spoke to me; nor do
I know what reply I made, as, overcome by emotion, my voice became
thick and broken. I wanted to tell all my gratitude, and yet could say
nothing. To this hour I know not with what impression of me he went
away. I can only assert, that in all the long career of vicissitudes of
a troubled and adventurous life, these brothers have occupied the
chosen spot of my affection for everything that was disinterested in
kindness and generous in good feeling.
They have done more; for they have often reconciled me to a world of
harsh injustice and illiberality, by remembering that two such
exceptions existed, and that others may have experienced what fell to
my lot.
For a mile or two my way lay through the mountains, but after
reaching the highroad I had not proceeded far when I was overtaken by a
jaunting-car, on which a gentleman was seated, with his leg supported
by a cushion, and bearing all the signs of a severe injury.
'Keep the near side of the way, sir, I beg of you,' cried he; 'I
have a broken leg, and am excessively uneasy when a horse passes close
to me.'
I touched my cap in salute, and immediately turned my horse's head
to comply with his request.
'Did you see that, George?' cried another gentleman, who sat on the
opposite side of the vehicle; 'did you remark that fellow's salute? My
life on't he's a French soldier.'
'Nonsense, man; he's the steward of a Clyde smack, or a clerk in a
counting-house,' said the first, in a voice which, though purposely
low, my quick hearing could catch perfectly.
'Are we far from Letterkenny just now, sir?' said the other,
addressing me.
'I believe about five miles,' said I, with a prodigious effort to
make my pronunciation pass muster.
'You're a stranger in these parts, I see, sir,' rejoined he, with a
cunning glance at his friend, while he added, lower, 'Was I right,
Hill?'
Although seeing that all concealment was now hopeless, I was in
nowise disposed to plead guilty at once, and therefore, with a cut of
my switch, pushed my beast into a sharp canter to get forward.
My friends, however, gave chase, and now the jaunting-car,
notwithstanding the sufferings of the invalid, was clattering after me
at about nine miles an hour. At first I rather enjoyed the malice of
the penalty their curiosity was costing, but as I remembered that the
invalid was not the chief offender, I began to feel compunction at the
severity of the lesson, and drew up to a walk.
They at once shortened their pace, and came up beside me.
'A clever hack you're riding, sir,' said the inquisitive man.
'Not so bad for an animal of this country,' said I superciliously.
'Oh, then, what kind of a horse are you accustomed to?' asked he,
half insolently.
'The Limousin,' said I coolly, 'what we always mount in our hussar
regiments in France.'
'And you are a French soldier, then,' cried he, in evident
astonishment at my frankness.
'At your service, sir,' said I, saluting; 'a lieutenant of hussars;
and if you are tormented by any further curiosity concerning me, I may
as well relieve you by stating that I am proceeding to Lord Cavan's
headquarters to surrender as a prisoner.'
'Frank enough that!' said he of the broken leg, laughing heartily as
he spoke. 'Well, sir,' said the other, 'you are, as your countrymen
would call it, bien venu, for we are bound in that direction
ourselves, and will be happy to have your company.'
One piece of tact my worldly experience had profoundly impressed
upon me, and that was, the necessity of always assuming an air of easy
unconcern in every circumstance of doubtful issue. There was quite
enough of difficulty in the present case to excite my anxiety, but I
rode along beside the jaunting-car, chatting familiarly with my new
acquaintances, and, I believe, without exhibiting the slightest degree
of uneasiness regarding my own position.
From them I learned so much as they had heard of the late naval
engagement. The report was that Bompard's fleet had fallen in with Sir
John Warren's squadron; and having given orders for his fastest sailers
to make the best of their way to France, had, with the Hoche,
the Loire, and the Resolve, given battle to the enemy.
These had all been captured, as well as four others which fled, two
alone of the whole succeeding in their escape. I think now, that,
grievous as these tidings were, there was nothing of either
boastfulness or insolence in the tone in which they were communicated
to me. Every praise was accorded to Bompard for skill and bravery, and
the defence was spoken of in terms of generous eulogy. The only trait
of acrimony that showed itself in the recital was a regret that a
number of Irish rebels should have escaped in the Biche, one of
the smaller frigates; and several emissaries of the people, who had
been deputed to the admiral, were also alleged to have been on board of
that vessel.
'You are sorry to have missed your friend the priest of Murrah,'
said Hill jocularly.
'Yes, by George, that fellow should have graced a gallows if I had
been lucky enough to have taken him.'
'What was his crime, sir?' asked I, with seeming unconcern.
'Nothing more than exciting to rebellion a people with whom he had
no tie of blood or kindred! He was a Frenchman, and devoted himself to
the cause of Ireland,* as they call it, from pure sympathy'
'And a dash of Popery,' broke in Hill.
'It's hard to say even that; my own opinion is, that French
Jacobinism cares very little for the Pope. Am I right, young
gentlemanyou don't go very often to confession?'
'I should do so less frequently if I were to be subjected to such a
system of interrogatory as yours,' said I tartly.
They both took my impertinent speech in good part, and laughed
heartily at it; and thus, half amicably, half in earnest, we entered
the little town of Letterkenny, just as night was falling.
'If you'll be our guest for this evening, sir,' said Hill, 'we shall
be happy to have your company.'
I accepted the invitation, and followed them into the inn.
CHAPTER XXIX. THE BREAKFAST AT
LETTERKENNY
Early the next morning, a messenger arrived from the Cranagh, with a
small packet of my clothes and effects, and a farewell letter from the
two brothers. I had but time to glance over its contents when the tramp
of feet and the buzz of voices in the street attracted me to the
window, and on looking out I saw a long line of men, two abreast, who
were marching along as prisoners, a party of dismounted dragoons
keeping guard over them on either side, followed by a strong detachment
of marines. The poor fellows looked sad and crest-fallen enough. Many
of them wore bandages on their heads and limbs, the tokens of the late
struggle. Immediately in front of the inn door stood a group of about
thirty persons; they were the staff of the English force, and the
officers of our fleet, all mingled together, and talking away with the
greatest air of unconcern. I was struck by remarking that all our
seamen, though prisoners, saluted the officers as they passed, and in
the glances interchanged I thought I could read a world of sympathy and
encouragement. As for the officers, like true Frenchmen they bore
themselves as though it were one of the inevitable chances of war, and,
however vexatious for the moment, not to be thought of as an event of
much importance. The greater number of them belonged to the army, and I
could see the uniforms of the staff, artillery and dragoons, as well as
the less distinguished costume of the line.
Perhaps they carried the affectation of indifference a little too
far, and in the lounging ease of their attitude, and the cool unconcern
with which they puffed their cigars, displayed an over-anxiety to seem
unconcerned.
That the English were piqued at their bearing was still more plain
to see; and indeed, in the sullen looks of the one, and the careless
gaiety of the other party, a stranger might readily have mistaken the
captor for the captive.
My two friends of the evening before were in the midst of the group.
He who had questioned me so sharply now wore a general officer's
uniform, and seemed to be the chief in command. As I watched him I
heard him addressed by an officer, and now saw that he was no other
than Lord Cavan himself, while the other was a well-known magistrate
and country gentleman, Sir George Hill.
The sad procession took almost half an hour to defile; and then came
a long string of country cars and carts, with sea-chests and other
stores belonging to our officers, and, last of all, some eight or ten
ammunition-waggons and gun-carriages, over which an English union-jack
now floated in token of conquest.
There was nothing like exultation or triumph exhibited by the
peasantry as this pageant passed. They gazed in silent wonderment at
the scene, and looked like men who scarcely knew whether the result
boded more of good or evil to their own fortunes. While keenly
scrutinising the looks and bearing of the bystanders, I received a
summons to meet the general and his party at breakfast.
Although the occurrence was one of the most pleasurable incidents of
my life, which brought me once more into intercourse with my comrades
and my countrymen, I should perhaps pass it over with slight mention,
were it not that it made me witness to a scene which has since been
recorded in various different ways, but of whose exact details I
profess to be an accurate narrator.
After making a tour of the room, saluting my comrades, answering
questions here, putting others there, I took my place at the long
table, which, running the whole length of the apartment, was
indiscriminately occupied by French and English, and found myself with
my back to the fireplace, and having directly in front of me a man of
about thirty-three or thirty-four years of age, dressed in the uniform
of a chef de brigade; light-haired and blue-eyed, he bore no
resemblance whatever to those around him, whose dark faces and black
beards proclaimed them of a foreign origin. There was an air of
mildness in his manner, mingled with a certain impetuosity that
betrayed itself in the rapid glances of his eye, and I could plainly
mark that while the rest were perfectly at their ease, he was
constrained, restless, watching eagerly everything that went forward
about him, and showing unmistakably a certain anxiety and distrust,
widely differing from the gay and careless indifference of his
comrades. I was curious to hear his name, and on asking, learned that
he was the Chef de Brigade Smith, an Irishman by birth, but
holding a command in the French service.
I had but asked the question, when, pushing back his chair from the
table, he arose suddenly, and stood stiff and erect, like a soldier on
parade.
'Well, sir, I hope you are satisfied with your inspection of me,'
cried he, and sternly, addressing himself to some one behind my back. I
turned and perceived it was Sir George Hill, who stood in front of the
fire, leaning on his stick. Whether he replied or not to this rude
speech I am unable to say, but the other walked leisurely round the
table and came directly in front of him. 'You know me now, sir, I
presume,' said he, in the same imperious voice, 'or else this uniform
has made a greater change in my appearance than I knew of.'
'Mr. Tone!' said Sir George, in a voice scarcely above a whisper.
'Ay, sir, Wolfe Tone; there is no need of secrecy here; Wolfe Tone,
your old college acquaintance in former times, but now chef de
brigade in the service of France.'
'This is a very unexpected, a very unhappy meeting, Mr. Tone,' said
Hill feelingly; 'I sincerely wish you had not recalled the memory of
our past acquaintance. My duty gives me no alternative.'
'Your duty, or I mistake much, can have no concern with me, sir,'
cried Tone, in a more excited voice.
'I ask for nothing better than to be sure of this, Mr. Tone,' said
Sir George, moving slowly towards the door.
'You would treat me like an émigré rentré? cried Tone
passionately, 'but I am a French subject and a French officer!'
'I shall be well satisfied if others take the same view of your
case, I assure you,' said Hill, as he gained the door.
'You 'll not find me unprepared for either event, sir,' rejoined
Tone, following him out of the room, and banging the door angrily
behind him.
For a moment or two the noise of voices was heard from without, and
several of the guests, English and French, rose from the table, eagerly
inquiring what had occurred, and asking for an explanation of the
scene, when suddenly the door was flung wide open, and Tone appeared
between two policemen, his coat off, and his wrists inclosed in
handcuffs.
'Look here, comrades,' he cried in French; 'this is another specimen
of English politeness and hospitality. After all,' added he, with a
bitter laugh, 'they have no designation in all their heraldry as
honourable as these fetters, when worn for the cause of freedom!
Good-bye, comrades; we may never meet again, but don't forget how we
parted.'
These were the last words he uttered, when the door was closed, and
he was led forward under charge of a strong force of police and
military. A postchaise was soon seen to pass the windows at speed,
escorted by dragoons, and we saw no more of our comrade.
The incident passed even more rapidly than I write it. The few words
spoken, the hurried gestures, the passionate exclamations, are yet all
deeply graven on my memory; and I can recall every little incident of
the scene, and every feature of the locality wherein it occurred. With
true French levity many reseated themselves at the breakfast-table;
whilst others, with perhaps as little feeling, but more of curiosity,
discussed the event, and sought for an explanation of its meaning.
'Then what's to become of Tiernay,' cried one, 'if it be so hard to
throw off this coil of Englishmen? His position may be just as
precarious.'
'That is exactly what has occurred,' said Lord Cavan; 'a warrant for
his apprehension has just been put into my hands, and I deeply regret
that the duty should violate that of hospitality, and make my guest my
prisoner.'
'May I see this warrant, my lord?' asked I.
'Certainly, sir. Here it is; and here is the information on oath
through which it was issued, sworn to before three justices of the
peace by a certain Joseph Dowall, late an officer in the rebel forces,
but now a pardoned approver of the Crown; do you remember such a man,
sir?'
I bowed, and he went on.
'He would seem a precious rascal; but such characters become
indispensable in times like these. After all, M. Tiernay, my orders are
only to transmit you to Dublin under safe escort, and there is nothing
either in my duty or in your position to occasion any feeling of
unpleasantness between us. Let us have a glass of wine together.'
I responded to this civil proposition with politeness, and, after a
slight interchange of leave-takings with some of my newly-found
comrades, I set out for Derry on a jaunting-car, accompanied by an
officer and two policemen, affecting to think very little of a
circumstance which, in reality, the more I reflected over, the more
serious I deemed it.
CHAPTER XXX. SCENE IN THE ROYAL
BARRACKS
It would afford me little pleasure to write, and doubtless my
readers less to read, my lucubrations as I journeyed along towards
Dublin. My thoughts seldom turned from myself and my own fortunes, nor
were they cheered by the scene through which I travelled. The season
was a backward and wet one, and the fields, partly from this cause, and
partly from the people being engaged in the late struggle, lay untilled
and neglected. Groups of idle, lounging peasants stood in the villages,
or loitered on the highroads as we passed, sad, ragged-looking, and
wretched. They seemed as if they had no heart to resume their wonted
life of labour, but were waiting for some calamity to close their
miserable existence. Strongly in contrast with this were the air and
bearing of the yeomanry and militia detachments with whom we
occasionally came up. Quite forgetting how little creditable to some of
them, at least, were the events of the late campaign, they gave
themselves the most intolerable airs of heroism, and in their drunken
jollity, and reckless abandonment, threatened, I know not whatutter
ruin to France and all Frenchmen. Bonaparte was the great mark of their
sarcasms, and, from some cause or other, seemed to enjoy a most
disproportioned share of their dislike and derision.
At first it required some effort of constraint on my part to listen
to this ribaldry in silence; but prudence, and a little sense, taught
me the safer lesson of 'never minding,' and so I affected to understand
nothing that was said in a spirit of insult or offence.
On the night of the 7th of November we drew nigh to Dublin; but
instead of entering the capital, we halted at a small village outside
of it, called Ghapelizod. Here a house had been fitted up for the
reception of French prisoners, and I found myself, if not in company,
at least under the same roof, with my countrymen.
Nearer intercourse than this, however, I was not destined to enjoy,
for early on the following morning I was ordered to set out for the
Royal Barracks, to be tried before a court-martial. It was on a cold,
raw morning, with a thin, drizzly rain falling, that we drove into the
barrack-yard, and drew up at the mess-room, then used for the purposes
of a court. As yet none of the members had assembled, and two or three
mess-waiters were engaged in removing the signs of last night's
debauch, and restoring a semblance of decorum to a very rackety-looking
apartment. The walls were scrawled over with absurd caricatures, in
charcoal or ink, of notorious characters of the capital, and a very
striking 'battle-piece' commemorated the 'Races of Castlebar,' as that
memorable action was called, in a spirit, I am bound to say, of little
flattery to the British arms. There were, to be sure, little
compensatory illustrations here and there of French cavalry in Egypt,
mounted on donkeys, or revolutionary troops on parade, ragged as
scarecrows, and ill-looking as highwaymen; but a most liberal justice
characterised all these frescoes, and they treated both Trojan and
Tyrian alike.
I had abundant time given me to admire them, for although summoned
for seven o'clock, it was nine before the first officer of the
court-martial made his appearance, and he having popped in his head,
and perceiving the room empty, sauntered out again, and disappeared. At
last a very noisy jaunting-car rattled into the square, and a short,
red-faced man was assisted down from it, and entered the mess-room.
This was Mr. Peters, the Deputy Judge Advocate, whose presence was the
immediate signal for the others, who now came dropping in from every
side, the President, a Colonel Daly, arriving the last.
A few tradespeople, loungers, it seemed to me, of the barracks, and
some half-dozen non-commissioned officers off duty, made up the public;
and I could not but feel a sense of my insignificance in the utter
absence of interest my fate excited. The listless indolence and
informality, too, offended and insulted me; and when the President
politely told me to be seated, for they were obliged to wait for some
books or papers left behind at his quarters, I actually was indignant
at his coolness.
As we thus waited, the officers gathered round the fireplace,
chatting and laughing pleasantly together, discussing the social events
of the capital, and the gossip of the day; everything, in fact, but the
case of the individual on whose future fate they were about to decide.
At length the long-expected books made their appearance, and a few
well-thumbed volumes were spread over the table, behind which the Court
took their places, Colonel Daly in the centre, with the judge upon his
left.
The members being sworn, the Judge Advocate arose, and in a hurried,
humdrum kind of voice, read out what purported to be the commission
under which I was to be tried; the charge being, whether I had or had
not acted treacherously and hostilely to his Majesty, whose
natural-born subject I was, being born in that kingdom, and,
consequently, owing to him all allegiance and fidelity. 'Guilty or not
guilty, sir?'
'The charge is a falsehood; I am a Frenchman,' was my answer.
'Have respect for the Court, sir,' said Peters; 'you mean that you
are a French officer, but by birth an Irishman.'
'I mean no such thingthat I am French by birth, as I am in
feelingthat I never saw Ireland till within a few months back, and
heartily wish I had never seen it.'
'So would General Humbert, too, perhaps,' said Daly, laughing; and
the Court seemed to relish the jest.
'Where were you born, then, Tiernay?'
'In Paris, I believe.'
'And your mother's name, what was it?'
'I never knew; I was left an orphan when a mere infant, and can tell
little of my family.'
'Your father was Irish, then?'
'Only by descent. I have heard that we came from a family who bore
the title of Timmahoo-Lord Tiernay of Timmahoo.'
'There was such a title,' interposed Peters; 'it was one of King
James's last creations after his flight from the Boyne. Some, indeed,
assert that it was conferred before the battle. What a strange
coincidence, to find the descendant, if he be such, labouring in
something like the same cause as his ancestor.'
'What's your rank, sir?' asked a sharp, severe-looking man, called
Major Flood.
'First Lieutenant of Hussars.'
'And is it usual for a boy of your years to hold that rank; or was
there anything peculiar in your case that obtained the promotion?'
'I served in two campaigns, and gained my grade regularly.'
'Your Irish blood, then, had no share in your advancement?' asked he
again.
'I am a Frenchman, as I said before,' was my answer.
'A Frenchman, who lays claim to an Irish estate and an Irish title,'
replied Flood. 'Let us hear Dowall's statement.'
And now, to my utter confusion, a man made his way to the table,
and, taking the book from the Judge Advocate, kissed it in token of an
oath.
'Inform the Court of anything you know in connection with the
prisoner,' said the judge.
And the fellow, not daring even to look towards me, began a long,
rambling, unconnected narrative of his first meeting with me at
Killala, affecting that a close intimacy had subsisted between us, and
that, in the faith of a confidence, I had told him how, being an
Irishman by birth, I had joined the expedition in the hope that with
the expulsion of the English I should be able to re-establish my claim
to my family rank and fortune. There was little coherence in his story,
and more than one discrepant statement occurred in it; but the fellow's
natural stupidity imparted a wonderful air of truth to the narrative,
and I was surprised how naturally it sounded even to my own ears,
little circumstances of truth being interspersed through the recital,
as though to season the falsehood into a semblance of fact.
'What have you to reply to this, Tiernay?' asked the colonel.
'Simply, sir, that such a witness, were his assertions even more
consistent and probable, is utterly unworthy of credit. This fellow was
one of the greatest marauders of the rebel army; and the last exercise
of authority I ever witnessed by General Humbert was an order to drive
him out of the town of Castlebar.'
'Is this the notorious Town-major Dowall?' asked an officer of
artillery.
'The same, sir.'
'I can answer, then, for his being one of the greatest rascals
unhanged,' rejoined he.
'This is all very irregular, gentlemen,' interposed the Judge
Advocate; 'the character of a witness cannot be impugned by what is
mere desultory conversation. Let Dowall withdraw.'
The man retired, and now a whispered conversation was kept up at the
table for about a quarter of an hour, in which I could distinctly
separate those who befriended from those who opposed me, the major
being the chief of the latter party. One speech of his which I
overheard made a slight impression on me, and for the first time
suggested uneasiness regarding the event.
'Whatever you do with this lad must have an immense influence on
Tone's trial. Don't forget that if you acquit him, you'll be sorely
puzzled to convict the other.'
The colonel promptly overruled this unjust suggestion, and
maintained that in my accent, manner, and appearance, there was every
evidence of my French origin.
'Let Wolfe Tone stand upon his own merits,' said he, 'but let us not
mix this case with his.'
'I'd have treated every man who landed to a rope,' exclaimed the
major, 'Humbert himself among the rest. It was pure brigandage, and
nothing less.'
'I hope if I escape, sir, that it will never be my fortune to see
you a prisoner of France,' said I, forgetting all in my indignation.
'If my voice have any influence, young man, that opportunity is not
likely to occur to you,' was the reply.
This ungenerous speech found no sympathy with the rest, and I soon
saw that the major represented a small minority in the Court.
The want of my commission, or of any document suitable to my rank or
position in the service, was a great drawback; for I had given all my
papers to Humbert, and had nothing to substantiate my account of
myself. I saw how unfavourably this acknowledgment was taken by the
Court; and when I was ordered to withdraw that they might deliberate, I
own that I felt great misgivings as to the result.
The deliberation was a long, and, as I could overhear, a strongly
disputed one. Dowall was twice called in for examination, and when he
retired on the last occasion the discussion grew almost stormy.
As I stood thus awaiting my fate, the public, now removed from the
court, pressed eagerly to look at me; and while some thronged the
doorway, and even pressed against the sentry, others crowded at the
window to peep in. Among these faces, over which my eye ranged in half
vacancy, one face struck me, for the expression of sincere sympathy and
interest it bore. It was that of a middle-aged man of a humble walk in
life, whose dress bespoke him from the country. There was nothing in
his appearance to have called for attention or notice, and at any other
time I should have passed him over without remark; but now, as his
features betokened a feeling almost verging on anxiety, I could not
regard him without interest.
Whichever way my eyes turned, however my thoughts might take me off,
whenever I looked towards him I was sure to find his gaze steadily bent
upon me, and with an expression quite distinct from mere curiosity. At
last came the summons for me to reappear before the Court, and the
crowd opened to let me pass in.
The noise, the anxiety of the moment, and the movement of the people
confused me at first; and when I recovered self-possession, I found
that the Judge Advocate was reciting the charge under which I was
tried. There were three distinct counts, on each of which the Court
pronounced me 'Not Guilty,' but at the same time qualifying the finding
by the additional words'by a majority of two'; thus showing me that
my escape had been a narrow one.
'As a prisoner of war,' said the President, 'you will now receive
the same treatment as your comrades of the same rank. Some have been
already exchanged, and some have given bail for their appearance to
answer any future charges against them.'
'I am quite ready, sir, to accept my freedom on parole,' said I; 'of
course, in a country where I am an utter stranger, bail is out of the
question.'
'I'm willing to bail him, your worship; I'll take it on me to be
surety for him,' cried a coarse, husky voice from the body of the
court; and at the same time a man dressed in a greatcoat of dark frieze
pressed through the crowd and approached the table.
'And who are you, my good fellow, so ready to impose yourself on the
Court?' asked Peters.
'I'm a farmer of eighty acres of land, from the Black Pits, near
Baldoyle, and the adjutant there, Mr. Moore, knows me well.'
'Yes,' said the adjutant, 'I have known you some years, as supplying
forage to the cavalry, and always heard you spoken of as honest and
trustworthy.'
'Thank you, Mr. Moore; that's as much as I want.'
'Yes; but it's not as much as we want, my worthy man,' said Peters;
'we require to know that you are a solvent and respectable person.'
'Come out and see my place, then; ride over the land and look at my
stock; ask my neighbours my character; find out if there's anything
against me.'
'We prefer to leave all that trouble on your shoulders,' said
Peters; 'show us that we may accept your surety, and we 'll entertain
the question at once.'
'How much is it?' asked he eagerly.
'We demanded five hundred pounds for a major on the staff; suppose
we say two, colonel, is that sufficient?' asked Peters of the
President.
'I should say quite enough,' was the reply.
'There's eighty of it, anyway,' said the farmer, producing a dirty
roll of bank-notes, and throwing them on the table; 'I got them from
Mr. Murphy in Smithfield this morning, and I'll get twice as much more
from him for asking; so if your honours will wait till I come back,
I'll not be twenty minutes away.'
'But we can't take your money, my man; we have no right to touch
it.'
'Then what are ye talking about two hundred pounds for?' asked he
sternly.
'We want your promise to pay in the event of this bail being
broken.'
'Oh, I see, it's all the same thing in the end; I'll do it either
way.'
'We'll accept Mr. Murphy's guarantee for your solvency,' said
Peters; 'obtain that, and you can sign the bond at once.'
''Faith, I'll get it, sure enough, and be here before you've the
writing drawn out,' said he, buttoning up his coat.
'What name are we to insert in the bond?' 'Tiernay, sir.'
'That's the prisoner's name, but we want yours.' 'Mine's Tiernay,
too, sir; Pat Tiernay of the Black Pits.'
Before I could recover from my surprise at this announcement he had
left the court, which in a few minutes afterwards broke up, a clerk
alone remaining to fill up the necessary documents and complete the
bail-bond.
The colonel, as well as two others of his officers, pressed me to
join them at breakfast, but I declined, resolving to wait for my
namesake's return, and partake of no other hospitality than his.
It was near one o'clock when he returned, almost worn out with
fatigue, since he had been in pursuit of Mr. Murphy for several hours,
and only came upon him by chance at last. His business, however, he had
fully accomplished; the bail-bond was duly drawn out and signed, and I
left the barrack in a state of mind very different from the feeling
with which I had entered it that day.
CHAPTER XXXI. A BRIEF CHANGE OF LIFE
AND COUNTRY
My new acquaintance never ceased to congratulate himself on what he
called the lucky accident that had led him to the barracks that
morning, and thus brought about our meeting. 'Little as you think of
me, my dear,' said he, 'I'm one of the Tiernays of Timmahoo myself;
faix, until I saw you, I thought I was the last of them! There are
eight generations of us in the churchyard at Kells, and I was looking
to the time when they'd lay my bones there as the last of the race, but
I see there's better fortune before us.'
'But you have a family, I hope?'
'Sorrow one belonging to me. I might have married when I was young,
but there was a pride in me to look for something higher than I had any
rightexcept from blood I mean, for a better stock than our own isn't
to be found; and that's the way years went over and I lost the
opportunity, and here I am now an old bachelor, without one to stand to
me, barrin' it be yourself.'
The last words were uttered with a tremulous emotion, and, on
turning towards him, I saw his eyes swimming with tears, and perceived
that some strong feeling was working within him.
'You can't suppose I can ever forget what I owe you, Mr. Tiernay.'
'Call me Pat, Pat Tiernay,' interrupted he roughly.
'I 'll call you what you please,' said I, 'if you let me add friend
to it.'
'That'senough; we understand one another nowno more need be said.
You'll come home and live with me It's not long, maybe, you'll have to
do that same; but when I go you 'll be heir to what I have. 'Tis more,
perhaps, than many supposes, looking at the coat and the gaiters I am
wearin'. Mind, Maurice, I don't want you, nor I don't expect you, to
turn farmer like myself. You need never turn a hand to anything. You
'll have your horse to ridetwo, if you like it. Your time will be all
your own, so that you spend a little of it now and then with me, and as
much divarsion as ever you care for.'
I have condensed into a few words the substance of a conversation
which lasted till we reached Baldoyle; and passing through that not
over-imposing village, gained the neighbourhood of the sea-shore, along
which stretched the farm of the 'Black Pits,' a name derived, I was
told, from certain black holes that were dug in the sands by fishermen
in former times, when the salt tide washed over the pleasant fields
where corn was now growing. A long, low, thatched cabin, with far more
indications of room and comfort than pretension to the picturesque,
stood facing the sea. There were neither trees nor shrubs around it,
and the aspect of the spot was bleak and cheerless enough, a colouring
a dark November day did nothing to dispel.
It possessed one charm, however; and had it been a hundred times
inferior to what it was, that one would have compensated for all
elsea hearty welcome met me at the door, and the words, 'This is your
home, Maurice,' filled my heart with happiness.
Were I to suffer myself to dwell even in thought on this period of
my life, I feel how insensibly I should be led away into an inexcusable
prolixity. The little meaningless incidents of my daily life, all so
engraven on my memory still, occupied me pleasantly from day till
night. Not only the master of myself and my own time, I was master of
everything around me. Uncle Pat, as he loved to call himself, treated
me with a degree of respect that was almost painful to me, and only
when we were alone together did he relapse into the intimacy of
equality. Two first-rate hunters stood in my stable; a stout-built
half-deck boat lay at my command beside the quay; I had my gun and my
greyhounds; books, journals; everything, in short, that a liberal purse
and a kind spirit could conferall but acquaintance. Of these I
possessed absolutely none. Too proud to descend to intimacy with the
farmers and small shopkeepers of the neighbourhood, my position
excluded me from acquaintance with the gentry; and thus I stood between
both, unknown to either.
For a while my new career was too absorbing to suffer me to dwell on
this circumstance. The excitement of field-sports sufficed me when
abroad, and I came home usually so tired at night that I could barely
keep awake to amuse Uncle Pat with those narratives of war and
campaigning he was so fond of hearing. To the hunting-field succeeded
the Bay of Dublin, and I passed days, even weeks, exploring every creek
and inlet of the coastnow cruising under the dark cliffs of the Welsh
shore, or, while my boat lay at anchor, wandering among the solitary
valleys of Lambay, my life, like a dream full of its own imaginings,
and unbroken by the thoughts or feelings of others! I will not go the
length of saying that I was self-free from all reproach on the
inglorious indolence in which my days were passed, or that my thoughts
never strayed away to that land where my first dreams of ambition were
felt. But a strange fatuous kind of languor had grown upon me, and the
more I retired within myself, the less did I wish for a return to that
struggle with the world which every active life engenders. PerhapsI
cannot now say if it were soperhaps I resented the disdainful
distance with which the gentry treated me, as we met in the
hunting-field or the coursing-ground. Some of the isolation I preferred
may have had this origin, but choice had the greater share in it, until
at last my greatest pleasure was to absent myself for weeks on a
cruise, fancying that I was exploring tracts never visited by man, and
landing on spots where no human foot had ever been known to tread.
If Uncle Pat would occasionally remonstrate on the score of these
long absences, he never ceased to supply means for them; and my
sea-store and a well-filled purse were never wanting, when the
blue-peter floated from La Hoche, as in my ardour I had named my
cutter. Perhaps at heart he was not sorry to see me avoid the capital
and its society. The bitterness which had succeeded the struggle for
independence was now at its highest point, and there was what, to my
thinking at least, appeared something like the cruelty of revenge in
the sentences which followed the state trials. I will not suffer myself
to stray into the debatable ground of politics, nor dare I give an
opinion on matters, where, with all the experience of fifty years
superadded, the wisest heads are puzzled how to decide; but my
impression at the time was that lenity would have been a safer and a
better policy than severity, and that in the momentary prostration of
the country, lay the precise conjuncture for those measures of grace
and favour which were afterwards rather wrung from than conceded by the
English Government. Be this as it may, Dublin offered a strange
spectacle at that period. The triumphant joy of one partythe
discomfiture and depression of the other. All the exuberant delight of
success here, all the bitterness of failure there. On one side,
festivities, rejoicings, and public demonstrations; on the other,
confinement, banishment, or the scaffold.
The excitement was almost madness. The passion for pleasure,
restrained by the terrible contingencies of the time, now broke forth
with redoubled force, and the capital was thronged with all its rank,
riches, and fashion, when its gaols were crowded, and the heaviest
sentences of the law were in daily execution. The state-trials were
crowded by all the fashion of the metropolis; and the heart-moving
eloquence of Curran was succeeded by the strains of a merry concert. It
was just then, too, that the great lyric poet of Ireland began to
appear in society, and those songs which were to be known afterwards as
'The Melodies,' par excellence, were first heard in all the
witching enchantment which his own taste and voice could lend them. To
such as were indifferent to or could forget the past, it was a
brilliant period. It was the last flickering blaze of Irish
nationality, before the lamp was extinguished for ever.
Of this society I myself saw nothing. But even in the retirement of
my humble life the sounds of its mirth and pleasure penetrated, and I
often wished to witness the scenes which even in vague description were
fascinating. It was, then, in a kind of discontent at my exclusion,
that I grew from day to day more disposed to solitude, and fonder of
those excursions which led me out of all reach of companionship or
acquaintance. In this spirit I planned a long cruise down channel,
resolving to visit the island of Valentia, or, if the wind and weather
favoured, to creep around the south-west coast as far as Bantry or
Kenmare. A man and his son, a boy of about sixteen, formed all my crew,
and were quite sufficient for the light tackle and easy rig of my
craft. Uncle Pat was already mounted on his pony, and ready to set out
for market, as we prepared to start. It was a bright spring
morningsuch a one as now and then the changeful climate of Ireland
brings forth in a brilliancy of colour and softness of atmosphere that
are rare in even more favoured lands.
'You have a fine day of it, Maurice, and just enough wind,' said he,
looking at the point from whence it came. 'I almost wish I was going
with you.'
'And why not come, then?' asked I. 'You never will give yourself a
holiday. Do so for once, now.'
'Not to-day, anyhow,' said he, half sighing at his self-denial. 'I
have a great deal of business on my hands to-day, but the next
timethe very next you're up to a long cruise, I'll go with you.'
'That's a bargain, then?'
'A bargain. Here's my hand on it.'
We shook hands cordially on the compact. Little knew I it was to be
for the last time, and that we were never to meet again!
I was soon aboard, and with a free mainsail skimming rapidly over
the bright waters of the bay. The wind freshened as the day wore on,
and we quickly passed the Kish light-ship, and held our course boldly
down channel. The height of my enjoyment in these excursions consisted
in the unbroken quietude of mind I felt, when removed from all chance
interruption, and left free to follow out my own fancies and indulge my
dreamy conceptions to my heart's content. It was then I used to revel
in imaginings which sometimes soared into the boldest realms of
ambition, and at others strayed contemplatively in the humblest walks
of obscure fortune. My crew never broke in upon these musings; indeed,
old Tom Finerty's low crooning song rather aided than interrupted them.
He was not much given to talking, and a chance allusion to some vessel
afar off, or some headland we were passing, were about the extent of
his communicativeness, and even these often fell on my ear unnoticed.
It was thus, at night, we made the Hook Tower, and on the next day
passed, in a spanking breeze, under the bold cliffs of Tramore, just
catching, as the sun was sinking, the sight of Youghal Bay and the tall
headlands beyond it.
'The wind is drawing more to the nor'ard,' said old Tom, as night
closed in, 'and the clouds look dirty.'
'Bear her up a point or two,' said I, 'and let us stand in for Cork
Harbour if it comes on to blow.'
He muttered something in reply, but I did not catch the words, nor,
indeed, cared I to hear them, for I had just wrapped myself in my
boat-cloak, and, stretched at full length on the shingle ballast of the
yawl, was gazing in rapture at the brilliancy of the starry sky above
me. Light skiffs of feathery cloud would now and then flit past, and a
peculiar hissing sound of the sea told, at the same time, that the
breeze was freshening. But old Tom had done his duty in mentioning this
once, and thus having disburthened his conscience, he closehauled his
mainsail, shifted the ballast a little to midships, and, putting up the
collar of his pilot-coat, screwed himself tighter into the corner
beside the tiller, and chewed his quid in quietness. The boy slept
soundly in the bow, and I, lulled by the motion and the plashing waves,
fell into a dreamy stupor, like a pleasant sleep. The pitching of the
boat continued to increase, and twice or thrice struck by a heavy sea,
she lay over, till the white waves came tumbling in over her gunwale. I
heard Tom call to his boy something about the head-sail, but for the
life of me I could not or would not arouse myself from a train of
thought that I was following.
'She's a stout boat to stand this,' said Tom, as he rounded her off
at a coming wave, which, even thus escaped, splashed over us like a
cataract. 'I know many a bigger craft wouldn't hold up her canvas under
such a gale.'
'Here it comes, father. Here's a squall!' cried the boy; and with a
crash like thunder, the wind struck the sail, and laid the boat half
under.
'She'd float if she was full of water,' said the old man, as the
craft 'righted.'
'But maybe the spars wouldn't stand,' said the boy anxiously.
''Tis what I 'm thinking,' rejoined the father. 'There's a shake in
the mast, below the caps.'
'Tell him it's better to bear up, and go before it,' whispered the
lad, with a gesture towards where I was lying.
'Troth, it's little he'd care,' said the other; 'besides, he's never
plazed to be woke up.'
'Here it comes again!' cried the boy. But this time the squall swept
past ahead of us, and the craft only reeled to the swollen waves, as
they tore by.
'We 'd better go about, sir,' said Tom to me; 'there's a heavy sea
outside, and it's blowing hard now.'
'And there's a split in the mast as long as my arm,' cried the boy.
'I thought she'd live through any sea, Tom!' said I, laughing, for
it was his constant boast that no weather could harm her.
'There goes the spar!' shouted he, while with a loud snap the mast
gave way, and fell with a crash over the side. The boat immediately
came head to wind, and sea after sea broke upon her bow, and fell in
great floods over us.
'Out away the staysclear the wreck,' cried Tom, 'before the squall
catches her!'
And although we now laboured like men whose lives depended on the
exertion, the trailing sail and heavy rigging, shifting the ballast as
they fell, laid her completely over; and when the first sea struck her,
over she went. The violence of the gale sent me a considerable distance
out, and for several seconds I felt as though I should never reach the
surface again. Wave after wave rolled over me, and seemed bearing me
downwards with their weight. At last I grasped something; it was a
ropea broken halyard; but by its means I gained the mast, which
floated alongside of the yawl as she now lay keel uppermost. With what
energy did I struggle to reach her! The space was scarcely a dozen
feet, and yet it cost me what seemed an age to traverse. Through all
the roaring of the breakers, and the crashing sounds of storm, I
thought I could hear my comrades' voices shouting and screaming; but
this was in all likelihood a mere deception, for I never saw them more!
Grasping with a death-grip the slippery keel, I hung on to the boat
through all the night. The gale continued to increase, and by daybreak
it blew a perfect hurricane. With an aching anxiety I watched for light
to see if I were near the land, or if any ship were in sight; but when
the sun rose, nothing met my eyes but a vast expanse of waves tumbling
and tossing in mad confusion, while overhead some streaked and mottled
clouds were hurried along with the wind. Happily for me, I have no
correct memory of that long day of suffering. The continual noise, but
more still, the incessant motion of sea and sky around, brought on a
vertigo, that seemed like madness; and although the instinct of
self-preservation remained, the wildest and most incoherent fancies
filled my brain. Some of these were powerful enough to impress
themselves upon my memory for years after, and one I have never yet
been able to dispel. It clings to me in every season of unusual
depression or dejection; it recurs in the half-nightmare sleep of
over-fatigue, and even invades me when, restless and feverish, I lie
for hours incapable of repose. This is the notion that my state was one
of afterlife punishment; that I had died, and was now expiating a
sinful life by the everlasting misery of a castaway. The fever brought
on by thirst and exhaustion, and the burning sun which beamed down upon
my uncovered head, soon completed the measure of this infatuation, and
all sense and guidance left me.
By what instinctive impulse I still held on my grasp, I cannot
explain; but there I clung during the whole of that long dreadful day,
and the still more dreadful night, when the piercing cold cramped my
limbs, and seemed as if freezing the very blood within me. It was no
wish for life, it was no anxiety to save myself, that now filled me. It
seemed like a vague impulse of necessity that compelled me to hang on.
It was, as it were, part of that terrible sentence which made this my
doom for ever!
An utter unconsciousness must have followed this state, and a dreary
blank, with flitting shapes of suffering, is all that remains to my
recollection.
*****
Probably within the whole range of human sensations, there is not
one so perfect in its calm and soothing influence as the first burst of
gratitude we feel when recovering from a long and severe illness. There
is not an object, however humble and insignificant, that is not for the
time invested with a new interest. The air is balmier, flowers are
sweeter, the voices of friends, the smiles and kind looks, are dearer
and fonder than we have ever known them. The whole world has put on a
new aspect for us, and we have not a thought that is not teeming with
forgiveness and affection. Such, in all their completeness, were my
feelings as I lay on the poop-deck of a large three-masted ship, which,
with studding and topgallant sails all set, proudly held her course up
the Gulf of St Lawrence.
She was a Danzig barque, the Hoffnung, bound for Quebec, her
only passengers being a Moravian minister and his wife, on their way to
join a small German colony established near Lake Champlain. To
Gottfried Kroller and his dear little wife I owe not life alone, but
nearly all that has made it valuable. With means barely removed from
absolute poverty, I found that they had spared nothing to assist in my
recovery; for, when discovered, emaciation and wasting had so far
reduced me that nothing but the most unremitting care and kindness
could have succeeded in restoring me. To this end they bestowed not
only their whole time and attention, but every little delicacy of their
humble sea-store. All the little cordials and restoratives, meant for a
season of sickness or debility, were lavished unsparingly on me, and
every instinct of national thrift and carefulness gave way before the
more powerful influence of Christian benevolence.
I can think of nothing but that bright morning, as I lay on a
mattress on the deck, with the 'Pfarrer' on one side of me, and his
good little wife, Lieschen, on the other; he with his volume of
'Wieland,' and she working away with her long knitting-needles, and
never raising her head save to bestow a glance at the poor sick boy,
whose bloodless lips were trying to mutter her name in thankfulness. It
is like the most delicious dream as I think over those hours, when,
rocked by the surging motion of the large ship, hearing in half
distinctness the words of the 'Pfarrer's' reading, I followed out
little fanciesnow self-originating, now rising from the theme of the
poet's musings.
How softly the cloud-shadows moved over the white sails and swept
along the bright deck! How pleasantly the water rippled against the
vessel's side I With what a glad sound the great ensign napped and
fluttered in the breeze! There was light, and life, and motion on every
side, and I felt all the intoxication of enjoyment.
And like a dream was the portion of my life which followed. I
accompanied the Pfarrer to a small settlement near 'Crown Point,' where
he was to take up his residence as minister. Here we lived amid a
population of about four or five hundred Germans, principally from
Pomerania, on the shores of the Baltic, a peaceful, thrifty, quiet set
of beings, who, content with the little interests revolving around
themselves, never troubled their heads about the great events of war or
politics. And here in all likelihood should I have been content to pass
my days, when an accidental journey I made to Albany, to receive some
letters for the Pfarrer, once more turned the fortune of my life.
It was a great incident in the quiet monotony of my life, when I set
out one morning, arrayed in a full suit of coarse, glossy black, with
buttons like small saucers, and a hat whose brim almost protected my
shoulders. I was, indeed, an object of very considerable envy to some,
and I hope, also, not denied the admiring approval of some others. Had
the respectable city I was about to visit been the chief metropolis of
a certain destination which I must not name, the warnings I received
about its dangers, dissipations, and seductions, could scarcely have
been more earnest or impressive. I was neither to speak with, nor even
to look at, those I met in the streets. I was carefully to avoid taking
my meals at any of the public eating-houses, rigidly guarding myself
from the contamination of even a chance acquaintance. It was deemed as
needless to caution me against theatres or places of amusement, as to
hint to me that I should not commit a highway robbery or a murder; and
so, in sooth, I should myself have felt it. The patriarchal simplicity
in which I had lived for above a year had not been without its affect
in subduing exaggerated feeling, or controlling that passion for
excitement so common to youth. I felt a kind of dreamy, religious
languor over me, which I sincerely believed represented a pious and
well-regulated temperament. Perhaps in time it might have become such.
Perhaps with others, more happily constituted, the impression would
have been confirmed and fixed; but in my case it was a mere lacquer,
that the first rubbing in the world was sure to brush off.
I arrived safely at Albany, and having presented myself at the bank
of Gabriel Shultze, was desired to call the following morning, when all
the letters and papers of Gottfried Kröller should be delivered to me.
A very cold invitation to supper was the only hospitality extended to
me. This I declined on pretext of weariness, and set out to explore the
town, to which my long residence in rural life imparted a high degree
of interest.
I don't know what it may now bedoubtless a great capital, like one
of the European cities; but at that time I speak of, Albany was a
strange, incongruous assemblage of stores and wooden houses, great
buildings like granaries, with whole streets of low sheds around them,
where, open to the passer-by, men worked at various trades, and people
followed out the various duties of domestic life in sight of the
public: daughters knitted and sewed; mothers cooked, and nursed their
children; men ate, and worked, and smoked, and sang, as if in all the
privacy of closed dwellings, while a thick current of population poured
by, apparently too much immersed in their own cares, or too much
accustomed to the scene, to give it more than passing notice.
It was curious how one bred and born in the great city of Paris,
with all its sights and sounds, and scenes of excitement and display,
could have been so rusticated by time as to feel a lively interest in
surveying the motley aspect of this quaint town. There were, it is
true, features in the picture very unlike the figures in 'Old-World'
landscape. A group of 'red men,' seated around a fire in the open
street, or a squaw carrying on her back a baby, firmly tied to a piece
of curved bark; a Southern-stater, with a spanking waggon-team, and two
grinning negroes behind, were new and strange elements in the life of a
city. Still, the mere movement, the actual busy stir and occupation of
the inhabitants, attracted me as much as anything else; and the shops
and stalls, where trades were carried on, were a seduction I could not
resist.
The strict puritanism in which I had lately lived taught me to
regard all these things with a certain degree of distrust. They were
the impulses of that gold-seeking passion of which Gottfried had spoken
so frequently; they were the great vice of that civilisation, whose
luxurious tendency he often deplored; and here, now, more than one-half
around me were arts that only ministered to voluptuous tastes.
Brilliant articles of jewellery; gay cloaks, worked with wampum, in
Indian taste; ornamental turning, and costly weapons, inlaid with gold
and silver, succeeded each other, street after street; and the very
sight of them, however pleasurable to the eye, set me a-moralising in a
strain that would have done credit to a son of Geneva. It might have
been that, in my enthusiasm, I uttered half aloud what I intended for
soliloquy; or perhaps some gesture, or peculiarity of manner, had the
effect; but so it was, I found myself an object of notice; and my
queer-cut coat and wide hat, contrasting so strangely with my youthful
appearance and slender make, drew many a criticism on me.
'He ain't a Quaker, that's a fact,' cried one, 'for they don't wear
black.'
'He's a down-eastera horse-jockey chap, I'll be bound,' cried
another. 'They put on all manner of disguises and masqueroonings. I
know 'em!'
'He's a calf preachera young bottle-nosed Gospeller,' broke in a
thick, short fellow, like the skipper of a merchant-ship. 'Let's have
him out for a preachment.'
'Ay, you're right,' chimed in another. 'I'll get you a sugar
hogshead in no time'; and away he ran on the mission.
Between twenty and thirty persons had now collected; and I saw
myself, to my unspeakable shame and mortification, the centre of all
their looks and speculations. A little more aplomb or knowledge
of life would have taught me coolness enough in a few words to
undeceive them; but such a task was far above me now, and I saw nothing
for it but flight. Could I only have known which way to take, I need
not have feared any pursuer, for I was a capital runner, and in high
condition; but of the locality I was utterly ignorant, and should only
surrender myself to mere chance. With a bold rush, then, I dashed right
through the crowd, and set off down the street, the whole crew after
me.
[Illustration: 369]
The dusk of the closing evening was in my favour; and although
volunteers were enlisted in the chase at every corner and turning, I
distanced them, and held on my way in advance. My great object being
not to turn on my course, lest I should come back to my starting point,
I directed my steps nearly straight onward, clearing apple-stalls and
fruit-tables at a bound, and more than once taking a flying-leap over
an Indian's fire, when the mad shout of the red man would swell the
chorus that followed me. At last I reached a network of narrow lanes
and alleys, by turning and wending through which I speedily found
myself in a quiet secluded spot, with here and there a flickering
candle-light from the windows, but no other sign of habitation. I
looked anxiously about for an open door; but they were all safe barred
and fastened; and it was only on turning a corner I spied what seemed
to me a little shop, with a solitary lamp over the entrance. A narrow
canal, crossed by a rickety old bridge, led to this; and the moment I
had crossed over, I seized the single plank which formed the footway,
and shoved it into the stream. My retreat being thus secured, I opened
the door, and entered. It was a barber's shop; at least, so a great
chair before a cracked old looking-glass, with some well-worn combs and
brushes, bespoke it; but the place seemed untenanted, and although I
called aloud several times, no one came or responded to my summons.
I now took a survey of the spot, which seemed of the poorest
imaginable. A few empty pomatum pots, a case of razors that might have
defied the most determined suicide, and a half-finished wig, on a block
painted like a red man, were the entire stock-in-trade. On the walls,
however, were some coloured prints of the battles of the French army in
Germany and Italy. Execrably done things they were, but full of meaning
and interest to my eyes in spite of that. With all the faults of
drawing and all the travesties of costume, I could recognise different
corps of the service, and my heart bounded as I gazed on the tall
shakos swarming to a breach, or the loose jacket as it floated from the
hussar in a charge. All the wild pleasures of soldiering rose once more
to my mind, and I thought over old comrades who doubtless were now
earning the high rewards of their bravery in the great career of glory.
And as I did so, my own image confronted me in the glass, as with long
lank hair, and a great bolster of a white cravat, I stood before it.
What a contrast!how unlike the smart hussar, with curling locks and
fierce moustache! Was I as much changed in heart as in looks? Had my
spirit died out within me? Would the proud notes of the bugle or the
trumpet fall meaningless on my ears, or the hoarse cry of 'Charge!'
send no bursting fulness to my temples? Ay, even these coarse
representations stirred the blood in my veins, and my step grew firmer
as I walked the room.
In a passionate burst of enthusiasm, I tore off my slouched hat and
hurled it from me. It felt like the badge of some ignoble slavery, and
I determined to endure it no longer. The noise of the act called up a
voice from the inner room, and a man, to all appearance suddenly roused
from sleep, stood at the door. He was evidently young, but poverty,
dissipation, and raggedness made the question of his age a difficult
one to solve. A light-coloured moustache and beard covered all the
lower part of his face, and his long blonde hair fell heavily over his
shoulders.
'Well,' cried he, half angrily, 'what's the matter; are you so
impatient that you must smash the furniture?'
Although the words were spoken as correctly as I have written them,
they were uttered with a foreign accent; and, hazarding the stroke, I
answered him in French by apologising for the noise.
'What! a Frenchman,' exclaimed he, 'and in that dress! what can that
mean?'
'If you'll shut your door, and cut off pursuit of me, I'll tell you
everything,' said I, 'for I hear the voices of people coming down that
street in front.'
'I'll do better,' said he quickly; 'I'll upset the bridge, and they
cannot come over.'
'That's done already,' replied I; 'I shoved it into the stream as I
passed.'
He looked at me steadily for a moment without speaking, and then
approaching close to me, said, 'Parbleu! the act was very unlike
your costume!' At the same time he shut the door, and drew a strong bar
across it. This done, he turned to me once more'Now for it: who are
you, and what has happened to you?'
'As to what I am,' replied I, imitating his own abruptness, 'my
dress would almost save the trouble of explaining; these Albany folk,
however, would make a field-preacher of me, and to escape them I took
to flight.'
'Well, if a fellow will wear his hair that fashion, he must take the
consequence,' said he, drawing out my long lank locks as they hung over
my shoulders. 'And so you wouldn't hold forth for themnot even give
them a stave of a conventicle chant.' He kept his eyes riveted on me as
he spoke, and then seizing two pieces of stick from the firewood, he
beat on the table the rataplan of the French drum. 'That's the music
you know best, lad, eh?that's the air, which, if it has not led
heavenward, has conducted many a brave fellow out of this world at
least. Do you forget it?'
'Forget it! no,' cried I;' but who are you; and how comes it
thatthat' I stopped in confusion at the rudeness of the question
I had begun. 'That I stand here, half fed, and all but nakeda barber
in a land where men don't shave once a month. Parbleu! they'd
come even seldomer to my shop if they knew how tempted I feel to draw
the razor sharp and quick across the gullet of a fellow with a
well-stocked pouch.'
As he continued to speak, his voice assumed a tone and cadence that
sounded familiar to my ears as I stared at him in amazement.
'Not know me yet!' exclaimed he, laughing; 'and yet all this poverty
and squalor isn't as great a disguise as your own, Tiernay. Come, lad,
rub your eyes a bit, and try if you can't recognise an old comrade.'
'I know you, yet cannot remember how or where we met,' said I, in
bewilderment.
'I'll refresh your memory,' said he, crossing his arms, and drawing
himself proudly up. 'If you can trace back in your mind to a certain
hot and dusty day, on the Metz road, when you, a private in the Ninth
Hussars, were eating an onion and a slice of black bread for your
dinner, a young officer, well looking and well mounted, cantered up and
threw you his brandy flask. Your acknowledgment of the civility showed
you to be a gentleman; and the acquaintance thus opened soon ripened
into intimacy.'
'But he was the young Marquis de Saint-Trône,' said I, perfectly
remembering the incident.
'Or Eugène Santron, of the republican army, or the barber at Albany,
without any name at all,' said he, laughing. 'What, Maurice, don't you
know me yet?'
'What! the lieutenant of my regiment? The dashing officer of
hussars?'
'Just so, and as ready to resume the old skin as ever,' cried he,
'and brandish a weapon somewhat longer, and perhaps somewhat sharper,
too, than a razor.'
We shook hands with all the cordiality of old comrades, meeting far
away from home, and in a land of strangers; and although each was full
of curiosity to learn the other's history, a kind of reserve held back
the inquiry, till Santron said, 'My confession is soon made, Maurice: I
left the service in the Meuse, to escape being shot. One day, on
returning from a field manouvre, I discovered that my portmanteau had
been opened, and a number of letters and papers taken out. They were
part of a correspondence I held with old General Lamarre, about the
restoration of the Bourbonsa subject, I'm certain, that half the
officers in the army were interested in, and, even to Bonaparte
himself, deeply implicated in, too. No matter, my treason, as they
called it, was too flagrant, and I had just twenty minutes' start of
the order which was issued for my arrest to make my escape into
Holland. There I managed to pass several months in various disguises,
part of the time being employed as a Dutch spy, and actually charged
with an order to discover tidings of myself, until I finally got away
in an Antwerp schooner to New York. From that time my life has been
nothing but a strugglea hard one, too, with actual want, for in this
land of enterprise and activity, mere intelligence, without some craft
or calling, will do nothing.
'I tried fifty things: to teach ridingand when I mounted into the
saddle, I forgot everything but my own enjoyment, and caracoled, and
plunged, and passaged, till the poor beast hadn't a leg to stand on;
fencingand I got into a duel with a rival teacher, and ran him
through the neck, and was obliged to fly from Halifax; FrenchI made
love to my pupil, a pretty-looking Dutch girl, whose father didn't
smile on our affection; and so on, I descended from a dancing-master to
a waiter, a laquais de place, and at last settled down as a
barber, which brilliant speculation I had just determined to abandon
this very night, for to-morrow morning, Maurice, I start for New York
and France again; ay, boy, and you'll go with me. This is no land for
either of us.'
'But I have found happiness, at least contentment, here,' said I
gravely.
'What! play the hypocrite with an old comrade! shame on you,
Maurice,' cried he. 'It is these confounded locks have perverted the
boy,' added he, jumping up; and before I knew what he was about, he had
shorn my hair, in two quick cuts of the scissors, close to the head.
'There,' said he, throwing the cut-off hair towards me, 'there lies all
your saintship; depend upon it, boy, they 'd hunt you out of the
settlement if you came back to them cropped in this fashion.'
'But you return to certain death, Santron,' said I; 'your crime is
too recent to be forgiven or forgotten.'
'Not a bit of it; Fouché, Cassaubon, and a dozen others, now in
office, were deeper than I was. There's not a public man in France
could stand an exposure, or hazard recrimination. It's a thieves'
amnesty at this moment, and I must not lose the opportunity. I'll show
you letters that will prove it, Maurice; for, poor and ill-fed as I am,
I like life just as well as ever I did. I mean to be a general of
division one of these days, and so will you too, lad, if there's any
spirit left in you.'
Thus did Santron rattle on, sometimes of himself and his own future;
sometimes discussing mine; for while talking, he had contrived to learn
all the chief particulars of my history, from the time of my sailing
from La Rochelle for Ireland.
The unlucky expedition afforded him great amusement, and he was
never weary of laughing at all our adventures and mischances in
Ireland. Of Humbert, he spoke as a fourth or fifth-rate man, and
actually shocked me by all the heresies he uttered against our
generals, and the plan of campaign; but, perhaps, I could have borne
even these better than the sarcasms and sneers at the little life of
'the settlement.' He treated all my efforts at defence as mere
hypocrisy, and affected to regard me as a mere knave, that had traded
on the confiding kindness of these simple villagers. I could not
undeceive him on this head; nor, what was more, could I satisfy my own
conscience that he was altogether in the wrong; for, with a diabolical
ingenuity, he had contrived to hit on some of the most vexatious doubts
which disturbed my mind, and instinctively to detect the secret cares
and difficulties that beset me. The lesson should never be lost on us,
that the devil was depicted as a sneerer! I verily believe the powers
of temptation have no such advocacy as sarcasm. Many can resist the
softest seductions of vice; many are proof against all the
blandishments of mere enjoyment, come in what shape it will; but how
few can stand firm against the assaults of clever irony, or hold fast
to their convictions when assailed by the sharp shafts of witty
depreciation!
I am ashamed to own how little I could oppose to all his
impertinences about our village and its habits; or how impossible I
found it not to laugh at his absurd descriptions of a life which,
without having ever witnessed, he depicted with a rare accuracy. He was
shrewd enough not to push this ridicule offensively; and long before I
knew it, I found myself regarding, with his eyes, a picture in which,
but a few months back, I stood as a foreground figure. I ought to
confess, that no artificial aid was derived from either good cheer or
the graces of hospitality; we sat by a miserable lamp, in a wretchedly
cold chamber, our sole solace some bad cigars, and a can of flat, stale
cider.
'I have not a morsel to offer you to eat, Maurice, but to-morrow
we'll breakfast on my razors, dine on that old looking-glass, and sup
on two hard brushes and the wig!'
Such were the brilliant pledges, and we closed a talk which the
nickering lamp at last put an end to.
A broken, unconnected conversation followed for a little time, but
at length, worn out and wearied, each dropped off to sleepEugène on
the straw settle, and I in the old chairnever to awake till the
bright sun was streaming in between the shutters, and dancing merrily
on the tiled floor.
An hour before I awoke, he had completed the sale of all his little
stock-in-trade, and with a last look round the spot where he had passed
some months of struggling poverty, out we sailed into the town.
'We'll breakfast at Jonathan Hone's,' said Santron.
'It's the first place here. I'll treat you to rump-steaks, pumpkin
pie, and a gin twister that will astonish you. Then, while I'm
arranging for our passage down the Hudson, you'll see the hospitable
banker, and tell him how to forward all his papers, and so forth, to
the settlement, with your respectful compliments and regrets, and the
rest of it.'
'But am I to take leave of them in this fashion?' asked I.
'Unless you want me to accompany you there, I think it's by far the
best way,' said he laughingly. 'If, however, you think that my presence
and companionship will add any lustre to your position, say the word,
and I'm ready. I know enough of the barber's craft now to make up a
head en Puritain, and, if you wish, I'll pledge myself to impose
upon the whole colony.'
Here was a threat there was no mistaking; and any imputation of
ingratitude on my part were far preferable to the thought of such an
indignity. He saw his advantage at once, and boldly declared that
nothing should separate us.
'The greatest favour, my dear Maurice, you can ever expect at my
hands is, never to speak of this freak of yours; or, if I do, to say
that you performed the part to perfection.'
My mind was in one of those moods of change when the slightest
impulse is enough to sway it, and, more from this cause, than all his
persuasion, I yielded; and the same evening saw me gliding down the
Hudson, and admiring the bold Catskills, on our way to New York.
CHAPTER XXXII. THE 'ATHOL' TENDER
As I cast my eyes over these pages, and see how small a portion of
my life they embrace, I feel like one who, having a long journey before
him, perceives that some more speedy means of travel must be adopted,
if he ever hope to reach his destination. With the instinctive
prosiness of age I have lingered over the scenes of boyhood, a period
which, strange to say, is fresher in my memory than many of the events
of few years back; and were I to continue my narrative as I have begun
it, it would take more time on my part, and more patience on that of my
readers, than are likely to be conceded to either of us. Were I to
apologise to my readers for any abruptness in my transitions, or any
want of continuity in my story, I should perhaps inadvertently seem to
imply a degree of interest in my fate which they have never felt; and,
on the other hand, I would not for a moment be thought to treat
slightingly the very smallest degree of favour they may feel disposed
to show me. With these difficulties on either hand, I see nothing for
it but to limit myself for the future to such incidents and passages of
my career as most impressed themselves on myself, and to confine my
record to the events in which I personally took a share.
Santron and I sailed from New York on the 9th of February, and
arrived in Liverpool on the 14th of March. We landed in as humble a
guise as need be. One small box contained all our effects, and a little
leathern purse, with something less than three dollars, all our
available wealth. The immense movement and stir of the busy town, the
din and bustle of trade, the roll of waggons, the cranking clatter of
cranes and windlasses, the incessant flux and reflux of population, all
eager and intent on business, were strange spectacles to our eyes as we
loitered houseless and friendless through the streets, staring in
wonderment at the wealth and prosperity of that land we were taught to
believe was tottering to bankruptcy.
Santron affected to be pleased with alltalked of the beau
pillage it would afford one day or other; but in reality this
appearance of riches and prosperity seemed to depress and discourage
him. Both French and American writers had agreed in depicting the
pauperism and discontent of England, and yet where were the signs of
it? Not a house was untenanted, every street was thronged, every market
filled; the equipages of the wealthy vied with the loaded waggons in
number; and if there were not the external evidences of happiness and
enjoyment the gayer population of other countries display, there was an
air of well-being and comfort such as no other land could exhibit.
Another very singular trait made a deep impression on us. Here were
these islanders with a narrow strait only separating them from a land
bristling with bayonets. The very roar of the artillery at exercise
might be almost heard across the gulf, and yet not a soldier was to be
seen about! There were neither forts nor bastions. The harbour, so
replete with wealth, lay open and unprotected, not even a gunboat or a
guardship to defend it! There was an insolence in this security that
Santron could not get over, and he muttered a prayer that the day might
not be distant that should make them repent it.
He was piqued with everything. While on board ship we had agreed
together to pass ourselves for Canadians, to avoid all inquiries of the
authorities! Heaven help us! The authorities never thought of us. We
were free to go or stay as we pleased. Neither police nor passport
officers questioned us. We might have been Hoche and Massena for aught
they either knew or cared. Not a mouchard tracked us; none even
looked after us as we wont. To me this was all very agreeable and
reassuring; to my companion it was contumely and insult. All the
ingenious fiction he had devised of our birth, parentage, and pursuits,
was a fine romance inedited, and he was left to sneer at the
self-sufficiency that would not take alarm at the advent of two ragged
youths on the quay of Liverpool.
'If they but knew who we were, Maurice,' he kept continually
muttering as we went along'if these fellows only knew whom they had
in their town, what a rumpus it would create! How the shops would
close! What barricading of doors and windows we should see! What bursts
of terror and patriotism! Par St. Denis, I have a mind to throw
up my cap in the air and cry 'Vive la République!' just to
witness the scene that would follow.' With all these boastings, it was
not very difficult to restrain my friend's ardour, and to induce him to
defer his invasion of England to a more fitting occasion, so that at
last he was fain to content himself with a sneering commentary on all
around him; and in this amiable spirit we descended into a very dirty
cellar to eat our first dinner on shore.
The place was filled with sailors, who, far from indulging in the
well-known careless gaiety of their class, seemed morose and sulky,
talking together in low murmurs, and showing unmistakable signs of
discontent and dissatisfaction. The reason was soon apparent; the
pressgangs were out to take men off to reinforce the blockading force
before Genoa, a service of all others the most distasteful to a seaman.
If Santron at first was ready to flatter himself into the notion that
very little persuasion would make these fellows take part against
England, as he listened longer he saw the grievous error of the
opinion, no epithet of insult or contempt being spared by them when
talking of France and Frenchmen. Whatever national animosity prevailed
at that period, sailors enjoyed a high preeminence in feeling. I have
heard that the spirit was encouraged by those in command, and that
narratives of French perfidy, treachery, and even cowardice, were the
popular traditions of the sea-service. We certainly could not
controvert the old adage as to 'listeners,' for every observation and
every anecdote conveyed a sneer or an insult on our country. There
could be no reproach in listening to these unresented, but Santron
assumed a most indignant air, and more than once affected to be
overcome by a spirit of recrimination. What turn his actions might have
taken in this wise I cannot even guess, for suddenly a rush of fellows
took place up the ladder, and in less than a minute the whole cellar
was cleared, leaving none but the hostess and an old lame waiter along
with ourselves in the place.
'You've got a protection, I suppose, sirs,' said the woman,
approaching us; 'but still I'll advise you not to trust to it overmuch;
they're in great want of men just now, and they care little for law or
justice when once they have them on the high-seas.'
'We have no protection,' said I; 'we are strangers here, and know no
one.'
'There they come, sir; that's the tramp,' cried the woman; 'there's
nothing for it now but to stay quiet and hope you 'll not be noticed.
Take those knives up, will ye,' said she, flinging a napkin towards me,
and speaking in an altered voice, for already two figures were
darkening the entrance, and peering down into the depth below, while
turning to Santron she motioned him to remove the dishes from the
tablea service in which, to do him justice, he exhibited a zeal more
flattering to his tact than his spirit of resistance.
'Tripped their anchors already, Mother Martin?' said a
large-whiskered man, with a black belt round his waist; while, passing
round the tables, he crammed into his mouth several fragments of the
late feast.
'You wouldn't have 'em wait for you, Captain John,' said she,
laughing.
'It's just what I would, then,' replied he. 'The Admiralty has put
thirty shillings more on the bounty, and where will these fellows get
the like of that? It isn't a West India service, neither, nor a
coastin' cruise off Newfoundland, but all as one as a pleasure-trip up
the Mediterranean, and nothing to fight but Frenchmen. Eh, younker,
that tickles your fancy,' cried he to Santron, who, in spite of
himself, made some gesture of impatience.
'Handy chaps, those, Mother Martin; where did you chance on'em?'
'They're sons of a Canada skipper in the river yonder,' said she
calmly.
'They aren't over like to be brothers,' said he, with the grin of
one too well accustomed to knavery to trust anything opposed to his own
observation. 'I suppose them's things happens in Canada as elsewhere,'
said he, laughing, and hoping the jest might turn her flank. Meanwhile
the press leader never took his eyes off me, as I arranged plates and
folded napkins with all the skill which my early education in Boivin's
restaurant had taught me.
'He is a smart one,' said he, half musingly. 'I say, boy, would you
like to go as cook's aid on board a king's ship? I know of one as would
just suit you.'
'I'd rather not, sir; I'd not like to leave my father,' said I,
backing up Mrs. Martin's narrative.
'Nor that brother, there; wouldn't he like it?'
I shook my head negatively.
'Suppose I have a talk with the skipper about it,' said he, looking
at me steadily for some seconds. 'Suppose I was to tell him what a good
berth you 'd have, eh?'
'Oh, if he wished it, I'd make no objection,' said I, assuming all
the calmness I could.
'That chap ain't your brotherand he's no sailor neither. Show me
your hands, youngster,' cried he to Santron, who at once complied with
the order, and the press captain bent over and scanned them narrowly.
As he thus stood with his back to me, the woman shook her head
significantly, and pointed to the ladder. If ever a glance conveyed a
whole story of terror hers did. I looked at my companion as though to
say, 'Can I desert him?' and the expression of her features seemed to
imply utter despair. This pantomime did not occupy half a minute. And
now, with noiseless step, I gained the ladder, and crept cautiously up
it. My fears were how to escape those who waited outside; but as I
ascended I could see that they were loitering about in groups,
inattentive to all that was going on below. The shame at deserting my
comrade so nearly overcame me, that, when almost at the top, I was
about to turn back again. I even looked round to see him; but, as I did
so, I saw the press leader draw a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and
throw them on the table. The instincts of safety were too strong, and
with a spring I gained the street, and, slipping noiselessly along the
wall, escaped the 'lookout.' Without a thought of where I was going to,
or what to do, I ran at the very top of my speed directly onwards, my
only impulse being to get away from the spot. Could I reach the open
country I thought it would be my best chance. As I fled, however, no
signs of a suburb appeared; the streets, on the contrary, grew narrower
and more intricate; huge warehouses, seven or eight storeys high,
loomed at either side of me; and at last, on turning an angle, a fresh
sea-breeze met me, and showed that I was near the harbour. I avow that
the sight of shipping, the tall and taper spars that streaked the sky
of night, the clank of chain-cables, and the heavy surging sound of the
looming hulls, were anything but encouraging, longing as I did for the
rustling leaves of some green lane; but still, all was quiet. A few
flickering lights twinkled here and there from a cabin window, but
everything seemed sunk in repose.
The quay was thickly studded with hogsheads and bales of
merchandise, so that I could easily have found a safe resting-place for
the night, but a sense of danger banished all wish for sleep, and I
wandered out, restless and uncertain, framing a hundred plans, and
abandoning them when formed.
So long as I kept company with Santron, I never thought of returning
to 'Uncle Pat'; my reckless spendthrift companion had too often avowed
the pleasure he would feel in quartering himself on my kind friend,
dissipating his hard-earned gains, and squandering the fruits of all
his toil. Deterred by such a prospect, I resolved rather never to
revisit him than in such company. Now, however, I was again alone, and
all my hopes and wishes turned towards him. A few hours' sail might
again bring me beneath his roof, and once more should I find myself at
home. The thought was calming to all my excitement; I forgot every
danger I had passed through, I lost all memory of every vicissitude I
had escaped, and had only the little low parlour in the 'Black Pits'
before my mind's eye, the wild, unweeded garden, and the sandy, sunny
beach before the door. It was as though all that nigh a year had
compassed had never occurred, and that my life at Crown Point and my
return to England were only a dream. Sleep overcame me as I thus lay
pondering, and when I awoke the sun was glittering in the bright waves
of the Mersey, a fresh breeze was flaunting and fluttering the
half-loosened sails, and the joyous sounds of seamen's voices were
mingling with the clank of capstans, and the measured stroke of oars.
It was full ten minutes after I awoke before I could remember how I
came there, and what had befallen me. Poor Santron, where is he now?
was my first thought, and it came with all the bitterness of
self-reproach.
Could I have parted company with him under other circumstances, it
would not have grieved me deeply. His mocking, sarcastic spirit, the
tone of depreciation which he used towards everything and everybody,
had gone far to sour me with the world, and day by day I felt within me
the evil influences of his teachings. How different were they from poor
Gottfried's lessons, and the humble habits of those who lived beneath
them! Yet I was sorry, deeply sorry, that our separation should have
been thus, and almost wished I had stayed to share his fate, whatever
it might be.
While thus swayed by different impulses, now thinking of my old home
at Crown Point, now of Uncle Pat's thatched cabin, and again of
Santron, I strolled down to the wharf, and found myself in a
considerable crowd of people, who were all eagerly pressing forward to
witness the embarkation of several boatfuls of pressed seamen, who,
strongly guarded and ironed, were being conveyed to the Athol
tender, a large three-master, about a mile off, down the river. To
judge from the cut faces and bandaged heads and arms, the capture had
not been effected without resistance. Many of the poor fellows appeared
more suited to a hospital than the duties of active service, and
several lay with bloodless faces and white lips, the handcuffed wrists
seeming a very mockery of a condition so destitute of all chance of
resistance.
The sympathies of the bystanders were very varied regarding them.
Some were full of tender pity and compassion; some denounced the system
as a cruel 'and oppressive tyranny; others deplored it as an unhappy
necessity; and a few well-to-do-looking old citizens, in drab shorts
and wide-brimmed hats, grew marvellously indignant at the recreant
poltroonery of 'the scoundrels who were not proud to fight their
country's battles.'
As I was wondering within myself how it happened that men thus
coerced could ever be depended on in moments of peril and difficulty,
and by what magic the mere exercise of discipline was able to merge the
feelings of the man in the sailor, the crowd was rudely driven back by
policemen, and a cry of 'Make way,' 'Fall back there,' given. In the
sudden retiring of the mass I found myself standing on the very edge of
the line along which a new body of impressed men were about to pass.
Guarded front, flank, and rear, by a strong party of marines, the poor
fellows came along slowly enough. Many were badly wounded, and walked
lamely; some were bleeding profusely from cuts on the face and temples;
and one, at the very tail of the procession, was actually carried in a
blanket by four sailors. A low murmur ran through the crowd at the
spectacle, which gradually swelled louder and fuller till it burst
forth into a deep groan of indignation, and a cry of 'Shame I Shame!'
Too much used to such ebullitions of public feeling, or too proud to
care for them, the officer in command of the party never seemed to hear
the angry cries and shouts around him; and I was even more struck by
his cool self-possession than by their enthusiasm. For a moment or two
I was convinced that a rescue would be attempted. I had no conception
that so much excitement could evaporate innocuously, and was preparing
myself to take part in the struggle when the line halted as the leading
files gained the stairs, and, to my wonderment, the crowd became hushed
and still. Then, one burst of excited pity over, not a thought occurred
to any to offer resistance to the law, or dare to oppose the
constituted authorities. How unlike Frenchmen! thought I; nor am I
certain whether I deemed the disparity to their credit!
'Give him a glass of water!' I heard the officer say, as he leaned
over the litter; and the crowd at once opened to permit some one to
fetch it. Before I believed it were possible to have procured it, a
tumbler of water was passed from hand to hand till it reached mine,
and, stepping forwards, I bent down to give it to the sick man. The end
of a coarse sheet was thrown over his face, and as it was removed I
almost fell over him, for it was Santron. His face was covered with a
cold sweat, which lay in great drops all over it, and his lips were
slightly frothed. As he looked up I could see that he was just rallying
from a fainting-fit, and could mark in the change that came over his
glassy eye that he had recognised me. He made a faint effort at a
smile, and, in a voice barely a whisper, said, 'I knew thou'd not leave
me, Maurice.'
'You are his countryman?' said the officer, addressing me in French.
'Yes, sir,' was my reply.
'You are both Canadians, then?'
'Frenchmen, sir, and officers in the service. We only landed from an
American ship yesterday, and were trying to make our way to France.'
'I'm sorry for you,' said he compassionately; 'nor do I know how to
help you. Come on board the tender, however, and we'll see if they'll
not give you a passage with your friend to the Nore. I'll speak to my
commanding officer for you.'
This scene all passed in a very few minutes, and before I well knew
how or why, I found myself on board of a ship's longboat, sweeping
along over the Mersey, with Santron's head in my lap, and his cold,
clammy fingers grasped in mine. He was either unaware of my presence or
too weak to recognise me, for he gave no sign of knowing me; and during
our brief passage down the river, and when lifted up the ship's side,
seemed totally insensible to everything.
The scene of uproar, noise, and confusion on board the Athol
is far beyond my ability to convey. A shipwreck, a fire, and mutiny,
all combined, could scarcely have collected greater elements of
discord. Two large detachments of marines, many of whom, fresh from
furlough, were too drunk for duty, and were either lying asleep along
the deck, or riotously interfering with everybody; a company of Sappers
en route to Woolwich, who would obey none but their own officer,
and he was still ashore; detachments of able-bodied seamen from the
Jupiter, full of grog and prize-money; four hundred and seventy
impressed men, cursing, blaspheming, and imprecating every species of
calamity on their captors; added to which, a crowd of Jews, bumboat
women, and slop-sellers of all kinds, with the crews of two
ballast-lighters, fighting for additional pay, being the chief actors
in a scene whose discord I never saw equalled. Drunkenness, suffering,
hopeless misery, and even insubordination, all lent their voices to a
tumult, amid which the words of command seemed lost, and all effort at
discipline vain.
How we were ever to go to sea in this state, I could not even
imagine. The ship's crew seemed inextricably mingled with the rioters,
many of whom were just sufficiently sober to be eternally meddling with
the ship's tackle; belaying what ought to be 'free,' and loosening what
should have been 'fast'; getting their fingers jammed in blocks, and
their limbs crushed by spars, till the cries of agony rose high above
every other confusion. Turning with disgust from a spectacle so
discordant and disgraceful, I descended the ladders, which led, by many
a successive flight, into the dark, low-ceilinged chamber called the
'sick bay,' where poor Santron was lying in, what I almost envied,
insensibility to the scene around him. A severe blow from the hilt of a
cutlass had caused a concussion of the brain, and, save in the
momentary excitement which a sudden question might cause, left him
totally unconscious. His head had been already shaved before I
descended, and I found the assistant-surgeon, an Irishman, Mr. Peter
Colhayne, experimenting a new mode of cupping as I entered. By some
mischance of the machinery, the lancets of the cupping instrument had
remained permanently fixed, refusing to obey the spring, and standing
all straight outside the surface. In this dilemma, Peter's ingenuity
saw nothing for it but to press them down vigorously into the scalp,
and then saw them backwards the whole length of the heada performance
the originality of which, in all probability, was derived from the
operation of a harrow in agriculture. He had just completed a third
track when I came in, and, by great remonstrance and no small flattery,
induced him to desist. 'We have glasses,' said he, 'but they were all
broke in the cock-pit; but a tin porringer is just as good.' And so
saying, he lighted a little pledget of tow, previously steeped in
turpentine, and, popping it into the tin vessel, clapped it on the
head. This was meant to exhaust the air within, and thus draw the blood
to the surfacea scientific process he was good enough to explain most
minutely for my benefit, and the good results of which he most
confidently vouched for.
'They've a hundred new conthrivances,' said Mr. Colhayne, 'for doing
that simple thing ye see there. They've pumps, and screws, and
hydraulic devilments as much complicated as a watch that's always
getting out of order and going wrong; but with that ye'll see what good
'twill do him; he'll he as lively as a lark in ten minutes.'
The prophecy was destined to a perfect fulfilment, for poor Santron,
who lay motionless and unconscious up to that moment, suddenly gave
signs of life by moving his features, and jerking his limbs to this
side and that. The doctor's self-satisfaction took the very proudest
form. He expatiated on the grandeur of medical science, the wonderful
advancement it was making, and the astonishing progress the curative
art had made even within his own time. I must own that I should have
lent a more implicit credence to this paean if I had not waited for the
removal of the cupping-vessel, which, instead of blood, contained
merely the charred ashes of the burnt tow, while the scalp beneath it
presented a blackened, seared aspect, like burnt leather. Such was
literally the effect of the operation; but as from that period the
patient began steadily to improve, I must leave to more scientific
inquirers the task of explaining through what agency, and on what
principles.
Santron's condition, although no longer dangerous, presented little
hope of speedy recovery. His faculties were clouded and obscured, and
the mere effort at recognition seemed to occasion him great subsequent
disturbance. Colhayne, who, whatever may have been his scientific
deficiencies, was good-nature and kindness itself, saw nothing for him
but removal to Haslar, and we now only waited for the ship's arrival at
the Nore to obtain the order for his transmission.
If the Athol was a scene of the wildest confusion and uproar
when we tripped our anchor, we had not been six hours at sea when all
was a picture of order and propriety. The decks were cleared of every
one not actually engaged in the ship's working, or specially permitted
to remain; ropes were coiled, boats hauled up, sails trimmed, hatches
down, sentinels paced the deck in appointed places, and all was
discipline and regularity. From the decorous silence that prevailed,
none could have supposed so many hundred living beings were aboard,
still less, that they were the same disorderly mob who sailed from the
Mersey a few short hours before. From the surprise which all this
caused me I was speedily aroused by an order more immediately
interesting, being summoned on the poop-deck to attend the general
muster. Up they came from holes and hatchways, a vast host, no longer
brawling and insubordinate, but quiet, submissive, and civil. Such as
were wounded had been placed under the doctor's care, and all those now
present were orderly and servicelike. With a very few exceptions they
were all sailors, a few having already served in a king's ship. The
first lieutenant, who first inspected us, was a grim, greyheaded man
past the prime of life, with features hardened by disappointment and
long service, but who still retained an expression of kindliness and
good-nature. His duty he despatched with all the speed of long
habitread the name, looked at the bearer of it, asked a few routine
questions, and then cried 'Stand by,' even ere the answers were
finished. When he came to me he said
'Abraham Hackett. Is that your name, lad?'
'No, sir. I 'm called Maurice Tiernay.'
'Tiernay, Tiernay,' said he a couple of times over. 'No such name
here.'
'Where's Tiernay's name, Cottle?' asked he of a subordinate behind
him.
The fellow looked down the listthen at methen at the list
againand then back to me, puzzled excessively by the difficulty, but
not seeing how to explain it.
'Perhaps I can set the matter right, sir,' said I. 'I came aboard
along with a wounded countryman of minethe young Frenchman who is now
in the sick bay.'
'Ay, to be sure; I remember all about it now,' said the lieutenant,
'You call yourselves French officers?' 'And such are we, sir.'
'Then how the devil came ye here? Mother Martin's cellar is, to say
the least of it, an unlikely spot to select as a restaurant.'
'The story is a somewhat long one, sir.'
'Then I haven't time for it, lad,' he broke in. 'We've rather too
much on hand just now for that. If you 've got your papers, or anything
to prove what you assert, I'll land you when I come into the Downs, and
you'll, of course, be treated as your rank in the service requires. If
you have not, I must only take the responsibility on myself to regard
you as an impressed man. Very hard, I know, but can't help it. Stand
by.'
These few words were uttered with a most impetuous speed; and as all
reply to them was impossible, I saw my case decided and my fate
decreed, even before I knew they were under litigation.
As we were marched forwards to go below, I overheard an officer say
to another
'Hay will get into a scrape about those French fellows; they may
turn out to be officers, after all.'
'What matter?' cried the other. 'One is dying; and the other Hay
means to draft on board the Téméraire. Depend upon it, we'll
never hear more of either of them.'
This was far from pleasant tidings; and yet I knew not any remedy
for the mishap. I had never seen the officer who spoke to me ashore
since we came on board. I knew of none to intercede for me; and as I
sat down on the bench beside poor Santron's cot, I felt my heart lower
than it had ever been before. I was never enamoured of the sea-service;
and certainly the way to overcome my dislike was not by engaging
against my own country; and yet this, in all likelihood, was now to be
my fate. These were my last waking thoughts the first night I passed on
board the Athol.
CHAPTER XXXIII. A BOLD STROKE FOR
FAME AND FORTUNE
To be awakened suddenly from a sound sleep, hurried half-dressed up
a gangway, and, ere your faculties have acquired free play, be passed
over a ship's side, on a dark and stormy night, into a boat wildly
tossed here and there, with spray showering over you, and a chorus of
loud voices about you, is an event not easily forgotten. Such a scene
still dwells in my memory, every incident of it as clear and distinct
as though it had occurred only yesterday. In this way was I 'passed,'
with twelve others, on board his Majesty's frigate, Téméraire, a
vessel which, in the sea-service, represented what a well-known
regiment did on shore, and bore the reputation of being a 'condemned
ship'this depreciating epithet having no relation to the qualities of
the vessel herself, which was a singularly beautiful French model, but
only to that of the crew and officers, it being the policy of the day
to isolate the blackguards of both services, confining them to
particular crafts and corps, making, as it were, a kind of index
expurgatorius, where all the rascality was available at a moment's
notice.
It would be neither agreeable to my reader nor myself, if I should
dwell on this theme, nor linger on a description where cruelty, crime,
heartless tyranny, and reckless insubordination made up all the
elements. A vessel that floated the seas only as a vast
penitentiarythe 'cats,' the 'yard-arm,' and the 'gangway,' comprising
its scheme of disciplinewould scarcely be an agreeable subject. And,
in reality, my memory retains of the life aboard little else than
scenes of suffering and sorrow. Captain Gesbrook had the name of being
able to reduce any, the most insubordinate, to discipline. The veriest
rascals of the fleet, the consummate scoundrels, one of whom was deemed
pollution to an ordinary crew, were said to come from his hands models
of seamanship and good conduct; and it must be owned, that if the
character was deserved, it was not obtained without some sacrifice.
Many died under punishment; many carried away with them diseases under
which they lingered on to death; and not a few preferred suicide to the
terrible existence on board. And although a 'Téméraire'as a man who
had served in her was always afterwards calledwas now and then shown
as an example of sailorlike smartness and activity, very few knew how
dearly that one success had been purchased, nor by what terrible
examples of agony and woe that solitary conversion was obtained.
To me the short time I spent on board of her is a dreadful dream. We
were bound for the Mediterranean, to touch at Malta and Gibraltar, and
then join the blockading squadron before Genoa. What might have been my
fate, to what excess passionate indignation might have carried me,
revolted as I was by tyranny and injustice, I know not, when an
accident, happily for me, rescued me from all temptation. We lost our
mizzen-mast, in a storm, in the Bay of Biscay, and a dreadful blow on
the head, from the spanker-boom, felled me to the deck, with a fracture
of the skull.
From that moment I know of nothing till the time when I lay in my
cot, beside a port-hole of the maindeck, gazing at the bright blue
waters that flashed and rippled beside me, or straining my strength to
rest on my elbow, when I caught sight of the glorious city of Genoa,
with its grand mountain background, about three miles from where I lay.
Whether from a due deference to the imposing strength of the vast
fortress, or that the line of duty prescribed our action, I cannot say,
but the British squadron almost exclusively confined its operations to
the act of blockade. Extending far across the bay, the English ensign
was seen floating from many a taper mast, while boats of every shape
and size plied incessantly from ship to ship, their course marked out
at night by the meteorlike light that glittered in them; not, indeed,
that the eye often turned in that direction, all the absorbing interest
of the scene lying inshore. Genoa was, at that time, surrounded by an
immense Austrian force, under the command of General Melas, who,
occupying all the valleys and deep passes of the Apennines, were
imperceptible during the day; but no sooner had night closed in, than a
tremendous cannonade began, the balls describing great semicircles in
the air ere they fell to scatter death and ruin on the devoted city.
The spectacle was grand beyond description, for while the distance at
which we lay dulled and subdued the sound of the artillery to a hollow
booming, like far-off thunder, the whole sky was streaked by the course
of the shot, and, at intervals, lighted up by the splendour of a great
fire, as the red shot fell into and ignited some large building or
other.
As, night after night, the cannonade increased in power and
intensity, and the terrible effects showed themselves in flames which
burst out from different quarters of the city, I used to long for
morning, to see if the tricolour still floated on the walls; and when
my eye caught the well-known ensign, I could have wept with joy as I
beheld it.
High up, too, on the cliffs of the rugged Apennines, from many a
craggy eminence, where perhaps a solitary gun was stationed, I could
see the beloved flag of France, the emblem of liberty and glory!
In the day the scene was one of calm and tranquil beauty. It would
have seemed impossible to connect it with war and battle. The glorious
city, rising in terraces of palaces, lay reflected in the mirrorlike
waters of the bay, blue as the deep sky above them. The orange-trees,
loaded with golden fruit, shed their perfume over marble fountains,
amid gardens of every varied hue; bands of military music were heard
from the public promenadesall the signs of joy and festivity which
betokened a happy and pleasure-seeking population. But at night the
'red artillery' again flashed forth, and the wild cries of strife and
battle rose through the beleaguered city. The English spies reported
that a famine and a dreadful fever were raging within the walls, and
that all Masséna's efforts were needed to repress an open mutiny of the
garrison; but the mere aspect of the 'proud city' seemed to refute the
assertion. The gay carolling of church bells vied with the lively
strains of martial music, and the imposing pomp of military array,
which could be seen from the walls, bespoke a joyous confidence, the
very reverse of this depression.
From the 'tops,' and high up in the rigging, the movements inshore
could be descried; and frequently, when an officer came down to visit a
comrade, I could hear of the progress of the siege, and learn, I need
not say with what delight, that the Austrians had made little or no way
in the reduction of the place, and that every stronghold and bastion
was still held by Frenchmen.
At first, as I listened, the names of new places and new generals
confused me; but by daily familiarity with the topic, I began to
perceive that the Austrians had interposed a portion of their force
between Masséna's division and that of Suchet, cutting off the latter
from Genoa, and compelling him to fall back towards Chiavari and
Borghetto, along the coast of the Gulf. This was the first success of
any importance obtained; and it was soon followed by others of equal
significance, Soult being driven from ridge to ridge of the Apennines,
until he was forced back within the second line of defences.
The English officers were loud in condemning Austrian slownessthe
inaptitude they exhibited to profit by a success, and the over-caution
which made them, even in victory, so careful of their own safety. From
what I overheard, it seemed plain that Genoa was untenable by any
troops but French, or opposed to any other adversaries than their
present ones.
The bad tidingssuch I deemed themcame quicker and heavier. Now,
Soult was driven from Monte Notte. Now, the great advance post of Monte
Faccio was stormed and carried. Now, the double eagle was floating from
San Tecla, a fort within cannon-shot of Genoa, A vast semicircle of
bivouac fires stretched from the Apennines to the sea, and their
reflected glare from the sky lit up the battlements and ramparts of the
city.
'Even yet, if Masséna would make a dash at them,' said a young
English lieutenant,' the white-coats would fallback.'
'My life on 't he 'd cut his way through, if he knew they were only
two to one!'
And this sentiment met no dissentient. All agreed that French
heroism was still equal to the overthrow of a force double its own.
It was evident that all hope of reinforcement from France was vain.
Before they could have begun their march southward, the question must
be decided one way or other.
'There's little doing to-night,' said an officer, as he descended
the ladder to the sick bay. 'Melas is waiting for some heavy mortars
that are coming up; and then there will be a long code of instructions
from the Aulic Council, and a whole treatise on gunnery to be read,
before he can use them. Trust me, if Masséna knew his man, he 'd be up
and at him.'
Much discussion followed this speech, but all more or less agreed in
its sentiment. Weak as were the French, lowered by fever and by famine,
they were still an overmatch for their adversaries. What a glorious
avowal from the lips of an enemy was this! The words did more for my
recovery than all the cares and skill of physic Oh, if my countrymen
but knew! if Masséna could but hear it! was my next thought; and I
turned my eyes to the ramparts, whose line was marked out by the
bivouac fires, through the darkness. How short the distance seemed, and
yet it was a whole world of separation. Had it been a great plain in a
mountain tract, the attempt might almost have appeared practicable; at
least, I had often seen fellows who would have tried it. Such were the
ready roads, the royal paths, to promotion, and he who trod them saved
miles of weary journey. I fell asleep, still thinking on these things;
but they haunted my dreams. A voice seemed ever to whisper in my
ear'If Masséna but knew, he would attack them. One bold dash, and the
Austrians would fall back.' At one instant, I thought myself brought
before a court-martial of English officers, for attempting to carry
these tidings; and proudly avowing the endeavour, I fancied I was
braving the accusation. At another, I was wandering through the streets
of Genoa, gazing on the terrible scenes of famine I had heard of. And
lastly, I was marching with a night party to attack the enemy. The
stealthy footfall of the column appeared suddenly to cease; we were
discovered; the Austrian cavalry were upon us! I started and awoke, and
found myself in the dim, half-lighted chamber, with pain and suffering
around me, and where, even in this midnight hour, the restless tortures
of disease were yet wakeful.
'The silence is more oppressive to me than the roll of artillery,'
said one, a sick midshipman, to his comrade. 'I grew accustomed to the
clatter of the guns, and slept all the better for it.'
'You 'll scarcely hear much more of that music,' replied his friend.
'The French must capitulate to-morrow or next day.'
'Not if Masséna would make a dash at them,' thought I; and with
difficulty could I refrain from uttering the words aloud.
They continued to talk to each other in low whispers, and, lulled by
the drowsy tones, I fell asleep once more, again to dream of my
comrades and their fortunes. A heavy bang like a cannon-shot awoke me;
but whether this were real or not I never knew; most probably, however,
it was the mere creation of my brain, for all were now in deep slumber
around me, and even the marine on duty had seated himself on the
ladder, and with his musket between his legs, seemed dozing away
peacefully. I looked out through the little window beside my berth. A
light breeze was faintly rippling the dark water beneath me. It was the
beginning of a 'Levanter,' and scarcely ruffled the surface as it swept
along.
'Oh, if it would but bear the tidings I am full of!' thought I. 'But
why not dare the attempt myself?' While in America I had learned to
become a good swimmer. Under Indian teaching, I had often passed hours
in the water; and though now debilitated by long sickness, I felt that
the cause would supply me with the strength I needed. From the instant
that I conceived the thought, till I found myself descending the ship's
side, was scarcely a minute. Stripping off my woollen shirt, and with
nothing but my loose trousers, I crept through the little window, and
lowering myself gently by the rattlin of my hammock, descended slowly
and noiselessly into the sea. I hung on thus for a couple of seconds,
half fearing the attempt, and irresolute of purpose. Should strength
fail, or even a cramp seize me, I must be lost, and none would ever
know in what an enterprise I had perished. It would be set down as a
mere attempt at escape. This notion almost staggered my resolution, but
only for a second or so; and with a short prayer, I slowly let slip the
rope, and struck out to swim.
The immense efforts required to get clear of the ship's side
discouraged me dreadfully, nor probably without the aid of the
'Levanter' should I have succeeded in doing so, the suction of the
water along the sides was so powerful. At last, however, I gained the
open space, and found myself stretching away towards shore rapidly. The
night was so dark that I had nothing to guide me save the lights on the
ramparts; but in this lay my safety. Swimming is, after all, but a slow
means of progression. After what I judged to be an hour in the water,
as I turned my head to look back, I almost fancied that the great
bowsprit of the Téméraire was over me, and that the figure who
leaned over the taffrail was steadily gazing on me. How little way had
I made, and what a vast reach of water lay between me and the shore! I
tried to animate my courage by thinking of the cause, how my comrades
would greet me, the honour in which they would hold me for the exploit,
and such like; but the terror of failure damped this ardour, and hope
sank every moment lower and lower.
For some time I resolved within myself not to look backthe
discouragement was too great; but the impulse to do so became all the
greater, and the only means of resisting was by counting the strokes,
and determining not to turn my head before I had made a thousand. The
monotony of this last, and the ceaseless effort to advance, threw me
into a kind of dreamy state, wherein mere mechanical effort remained. A
few vague impressions are all that remain to me of what followed. I
remember the sound of the morning guns from the fleet; I remember, too,
the hoisting of the French standard at daybreak on the fort of the
Mole; I have some recollection of a bastion crowded with people, and
hearing shouts and cheers like voices of welcome and encouragement; and
then a whole fleet of small boats issuing from the harbour, as if by
one impulse; and then there comes a bright blaze of light over one
incident, for I saw myself, dripping and almost dead, lifted on the
shoulders of strong men, and carried along a wide street filled with
people. I was in Genoa!
CHAPTER XXXIV. GENOA IN THE SIEGE
Up a straight street, so steep and so narrow that it seemed a stair,
with hundreds of men crowding around me, I was borne along. Now, they
were sailors who carried me; now, white-bearded grenadiers, with their
bronzed, bold faces; now, they were the wild-looking Faquini of the
Mole, with long-tasselled red caps, and gaudy sashes around their
waists. Windows were opened on either side as we went, and eager faces
protruded to stare at me; and then there were shouts and cries of
triumphant joy bursting forth at every moment, amidst which I could
hear the ever-recurring words'Escaped from the English fleet.'
By what means, or when, I had exchanged my dripping trousers of
coarse sailcloth for the striped gear of our republican modehow one
had given me his jacket, another a cap, and a third a shirtI knew
not; but there I was, carried along in triumph, half fainting from
exhaustion, and almost maddened by excitement. That I must have told
something of my historyHeaven knows how incoherently and
unconnectedlyis plain enough, for I could hear them repeating one to
the other'Had served with Moreau's corps in the Black Forest;' 'A
hussar of the Ninth;' 'One of Humbert's fellows'; and so on.
As we turned into a species of 'Place,' a discussion arose as to
whither they should convey me. Some were for the 'Cavalry Barracks,'
that I might be once more with those who resembled my old comrades.
Others, more considerate, were for the hospital; but a staff-officer
decided the question by stating that the general was at that very
moment receiving the report in the church of the Annunziata, and that
he ought to see me at once.
'Let the poor fellow have some refreshment,' cried one. 'Here, take
this, it's coffee.' 'No, no, the petite goutte is hottertry
that flask.' 'He shall have my chocolate,' said an old major, from the
door of a café; and thus they pressed and solicited me with a
generosity that I had yet to learn how dear it cost.
'He ought to be dressed'; 'He should be in uniform'; 'Is better as
he is'; 'The general will not speak to him thus'; 'He will'; 'He must.'
Such, and such like, kept buzzing around me, as with reeling brain
and confused vision they bore me up the great steps, and carried me
into a gorgeous church, the most splendidly ornamented building I had
ever beheld. Except, however, in the decorations of the ceiling, and
the images of saints which figured in niches high up, every trace of a
religious edifice had disappeared. The pulpit had gonethe chairs and
seats for the choir, the confessionals, the shrines, altarsall had
been uprooted, and a large table, at which some twenty officers were
seated writing, now occupied the elevated platform of the high altar,
while here and there stood groups of officers, with their reports from
their various corps or parties in out-stations. Many of these drew near
to me as I entered, and now the buzz of voices in question and
rejoinder swelled into a loud noise; and while some were recounting my
feat with all the seeming accuracy of eye-witnesses, others were as
resolutely protesting it all to be impossible. Suddenly the tumult was
hushed, the crowd fell back, and as the clanking muskets proclaimed 'a
salute,' a whispered murmur announced the 'general.'
I could just see the waving plumes of his staff, as they passed up;
and then, as they were disappearing in the distance, they stopped, and
one hastily returned to the entrance of the church.
'Where is this fellow? let me see him,' cried he hurriedly, brushing
his way through the crowd. 'Let him stand down; set him on his legs.'
'He is too weak, capitaine,' said a soldier.
'Place him in a chair, then,' said the aide-de-camp, for such he
was. 'You have made your escape from the English fleet, my man?'
continued he, addressing me.
'I am an officer, and your comrade,' replied I proudly; for with all
my debility, the tone of his address stung me to the quick.
'In what service, pray?' asked he, with a sneering look at my motley
costume.
'Your general shall hear where I have served, and how, whenever he
is pleased to ask me,' was my answer.
'Ay, parbleu!, cried three or four sous-officiers in a
breath, 'the general shall see him himself.'
And with a jerk they hoisted me once more on their shoulders, and
with a runthe regular storming tramp of the linethey advanced up
the aisle of the church, and never halted till within a few feet of
where the staff were gathered around the general. A few wordsthey
sounded like a reprimandfollowed; a severe voice bade the soldiers
'fall back,' and I found myself standing alone before a tall and very
strongly built man, with a large, red-brown beard; he wore a grey upper
coat over his uniform, and carried a riding-whip in his hand.
'Get him a seat. Let him have a glass of wine,' cried he quickly, as
he saw the tottering efforts I was making to keep my legs. 'Are you
better now?' asked he, in a voice which, rough as it was, sounded
kindly.
Seeing me so far restored, he desired me to recount my late
adventure, which I did in the fewest words, and the most concise
fashion, I could. Although never interrupting, I could mark that
particular portions of my narrative made much impression on him, and he
could not repress a gesture of impatience when I told him that I was
impressed as a seaman to fight against the flag of my own country.
'Of course, then,' cried he, 'you were driven to the alternative of
this attempt.'
'Not so, general,' said I, interrupting; 'I had grown to be very
indifferent about my own fortunes. I had become half fatalist as to
myself. It was on very different grounds, indeed, that I dared this
danger. It was to tell you, for if I mistake not I am addressing
General Massvna, tidings of deep importance.'
I said these words slowly and deliberately, and giving them all the
impressiveness I was able.
'Come this way, friend,' said he, and, assisting me to arise, he led
me a short distance off, and desired me to sit down on the steps in
front of the altar railing. 'Now, you may speak freely. I am the
General Masséna, and I have only to say, that if you really have
intelligence of any value for me, you shall be liberally rewarded; but
if you have not, and if the pretence be merely an effort to impose on
one whose cares and anxieties are already hard to bear, it would be
better that you had perished on sea than tried to attempt it.'
There was a stern severity in the way he said this, which for a
moment or two actually overpowered me. It was quite clear that he
looked for some positive fact, some direct piece of information on
which he might implicitly rely; and here was I now with nothing save
the gossip of some English lieutenants, the idle talk of inexperienced
young officers. I was silent. From the bottom of my heart I wished that
I had never reached the shore, to stand in a position of such
humiliation as this.
'So, then, my caution was not unneeded,' said the general, as he
bent his heavy brows upon me. 'Now, sir, there is but one amende you
can make for this; tell me frankly, have others sent you on this
errand, or is the scheme entirely of your own devising? Is this an
English plot, or is there a Bourbon element in it?'
'Neither one nor the other,' said I boldly, for indignation at last
gave me courage. 'I hazarded my life to tell you what I overheard among
the officers of the fleet yonder; you may hold their judgment cheap;
you may not think their counsels worth the pains of listening to; but I
could form no opinion of this, and only thought if these tidings could
reach you, you might profit by them.'
'And what are they?' asked he bluntly.
'They said that your force was wasting away by famine and disease;
that your supplies could not hold out above a fortnight; that your
granaries were empty, and your hospitals filled.'
'They scarcely wanted the gift of second-sight to see this,' said he
bitterly. 'A garrison in close siege for four months may be suspected
of as much.'
'Yes; but they said that as Soult's force fell back upon the city,
your position would be rendered worse.'
'Fell back from where?' asked he, with a searching look at me.
'As I understood, from the Apennines,' replied I, growing more
confident as I saw that he became more attentive. 'If I understood them
aright, Soult held a position called the Monte Faccio. Is there such
a name?'
'Go on,' said he, with a nod of assent.
'That this could not long be tenable without gaining the highest
fortified point of the mountain. The Monte Creto they named it.'
'The attempt on which has failed!' said Masséna, as if carried away
by the subject; 'and Soult himself is a prisoner! Go on.'
'They added, that now but one hope remained for this army.'
'And what was that, sir?' said he fiercely. 'What suggestion of
cunning strategy did these sea-wolves intimate?'
'To cut your way through the blockade, and join Suchet's corps,
attacking the Austrians at the Monte Ratte, and by the sea-road gaining
the heights of Bochetta.'
'Do these heroic spirits know the strength of the same Austrian
corps? did they tell you that it numbered fifty-four thousand
bayonets?'
'They called them below forty thousand; and that now that Bonaparte
was on his way through the Alps, perhaps by this over the Mount
Cenis'
'What! did they say this? Is Bonaparte so near us?' cried he,
placing a hand on either shoulder, as he stared me in the face.
'Yes; there is no doubt of that. The despatch to Lord Keith brought
the news a week ago, and there is no secret made about it in the
fleet.'
'Over Mount Cenis!' repeated he to himself. 'Already in Italy!'
'Holding straight for Milan, Lord Keith thinks,' added I.
'No, sir, straight for the Tuileries,' cried Masséna sternly; and
then correcting himself suddenly, he burst into a forced laugh. I must
confess that the speech puzzled me sorely at the time, but I lived to
learn its meaning; and many a time have I wondered at the shrewd
foresight which even then read the ambitious character of the future
Emperor.
'Of this fact, then, you are quite certain. Bonaparte is on his
march hither?'
'I have heard it spoken of every day for the last week,' replied I;
'and it was in consequence of this that the English officers used to
remark, if Masséna but knew it, he'd make a dash at them, and clear his
way through at once.'
'They said this, did they?' said he, in a low voice, and as if
pondering over it.
'Yes; one and all agreed in thinking there could not be a doubt of
the result.'
'Where have you served, sir?' asked he, suddenly turning on me, and
with a look that showed he was resolved to test the character of the
witness.
'With Moreau, sir, on the Rhine and the Schwarz-wald; in Ireland
with Humbert.'
'Your regiment?'
'The Ninth Hussar.'
'The Tapageurs"' said he, laughing. 'I know them, and glad I am not
to have their company here at this moment; you were a lieutenant?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, supposing that, on the faith of what you have told me, I was
to follow the wise counsel of these gentlemen, would you like the
alternative of gaining your promotion in the event of success, or being
shot by a peloton if we fail.'
'They seem sharp terms, sir,' said I, smiling, 'when it is
remembered that no individual efforts of mine can either promote one
result or the other.'
'Ay, but they can, sir,' cried he quickly. 'If you should turn out
to be an Austro-English spy; if these tidings be of a character to lead
my troops into danger; if, in reliance on you, I should be led to
compromise the honour and safety of a French armyyour life, were it
worth ten thousand times over your own value of it, would be a sorry
recompense. Is this intelligible?'
'Far more intelligible than flattering,' said I, laughing; for I saw
that the best mode to treat him was by an imitation of his own frank
and careless humour. 'I have already risked that life you hold so
cheaply to convey this information, but I am still ready to accept the
conditions you offer me, if, in the event of success, my name appear in
the despatch.'
He again stared at me with his dark and piercing eyes; but I stood
the glance with a calm conscience, and he seemed so to read it, for he
said
'Be it so. I will, meanwhile, test your prudence. Let nothing of
this interview transpirenot a word of it among the officers and
comrades you shall make acquaintance with. You shall serve on my own
staff. Go now, and recruit your strength for a couple of days, and then
report yourself at headquarters when ready for duty.Latrobe, look to
the Lieutenant Tiernay; see that he wants for nothing, and let him have
a horse and a uniform as soon as may be.'
Captain Latrobe, the future General of Division, was then a young
gay officer of about five-and-twenty, very good-looking, and full of
life and spiritsa buoyancy which the terrible uncertainties of the
siege could not repress.
'Our general talks nobly, Tiernay,' said he, as he gave me his arm
to assist me; 'but you 'll stare when I tell you that wanting for
nothing means, having four ounces of black bread, and ditto of blue
cheese, per diem; and as to a horse, if I possessed such an animal, I'd
have given a dinner-party yesterday and eaten him. You look surprised,
but when you see a little more of us here, you'll begin to think that
prison rations in the fleet yonder were luxuries compared to what we
have. No matter, you shall take share of my superabundance; and if I
have little else to offer, I'll show you a view from my window, finer
than anything you ever looked on in your life, and with a sea-breeze
that would be glorious if it didn't make one hungry.'
While he thus rattled on, we reached the street, and there, calling
a couple of soldiers forward, he directed them to carry me along to his
quarters, which lay in the upper town, on an elevated plateau that
overlooked the city and the bay together.
From the narrow lanes, flanked with tall, gloomy houses, and steep,
ill-paved streets, exhibiting poverty and privation of every kind, we
suddenly emerged into an open space of grass, at one side of which a
handsome iron railing stood, with a richly ornamented gate, gorgeously
gilded. Within this was a garden and a fish-pond, surrounded with
statues, and farther on, a long, low villa, whose windows reached to
the ground, and were shaded by a deep awning of striped blue and white
canvas.
Camellias, orange-trees, cactuses, and magnolias abounded
everywhere; tulips and hyacinths seemed to grow wild; and there was in
the half-neglected look of the spot something of savage luxuriance that
heightened the effect immensely.
'This is my Paradise, Tiernay, only wanting an Eve to be perfect,'
said Latrobe, as he set me down beneath a spreading lime-tree. 'Yonder
are your English friends; there they stretch away for miles beyond that
point. That's the Monte Creto, you may have heard of; and there's the
Bochetta. In that valley, to the left, the Austrian outposts are
stationed; and from those two heights closer to the shore, they are
gracious enough to salute us every evening after sunset, and even
prolong the attention sometimes the whole night through. Turn your eyes
in this direction, and you'll see the cornice road, that leads to la
belle France, but of which we see as much from this spot as we are ever
like to do. So much for the geography of our position; and now to look
after your breakfast. You have, of course, heard that we do not revel
in superfluities. Never was the boasted excellence of our national
cookery more severely tested, for we have successively descended from
cows and sheep to goats, horses, donkeys, dogs, occasionally
experimenting on hides and shoe-leather, till we ended by regarding a
rat as a rarity, and deeming a mouse a delicacy of the season. As for
vegetables, there would not have been a flowering plant in all Genoa,
if tulip and ranunculus roots had not been bitter as aloes. These seem
very inhospitable confessions, but I make them the more freely since I
am about to treat you en gourmet. Come in now, and acknowledge
that juniper bark isn't bad coffee, and that commissary bread is not to
be thought of lightly.'
In this fashion did my comrade invite me to a meal, which, even with
this preface, was far more miserable and scanty than I looked for.
CHAPTER XXXV. A NOVEL COUNCIL OP WAR
I had scarcely finished my breakfast, when a group of officers rode
up to our quarters to visit me. My arrival had already created an
immense sensation in the city, and all kinds of rumours were afloat as
to the tidings I had brought. The meagreness of the information would,
indeed, have seemed in strong contrast to the enterprise and hazard of
the escape, had I not the craft to eke it out by that process of
suggestion and speculation in which I was rather an adept.
Little in substance as my information was, all the younger officers
were in favour of acting upon it. The English are no bad judges of our
position and chances, was the constant argument. They see exactly how
we stand; they know the relative forces of our army and the enemy's;
and if the 'cautious islanders'such was the phraseadvised a coup
de main, it surely must have much in its favour. I lay stress upon
the remark, trifling as it may seem; but it is curious to know, that
with all the immense successes of England on sea, her reputation at
that time among Frenchmen was rather for prudent and well-matured
undertaking than for those daring enterprises which are as much the
character of her courage.
My visitors continued to pour in during the morningofficers of
every arm and rank, some from mere idle curiosity, some to question and
interrogate, and not a few to solve doubts in their mind as to my being
really French, and a soldier, and not an agent of that 'perfide
Albion,' whose treachery was become a proverb amongst us. Many were
disappointed at my knowing so little. I neither could tell the date of
Napoleon's passing St. Gothard, nor the amount of his force; neither
knew I whether he meant to turn eastward towards the plains of
Lombardy, or march direct to the relief of Genoa. Of Moreau's successes
in Germany, too, I had only heard vaguely, and, of course, could
recount nothing. I could overhear, occasionally, around and about me,
the murmurs of dissatisfaction my ignorance called forth, and was not a
little grateful to an old artillery captain for saying, 'That's the
very best thing about the lad; a spy would have had his whole lesson by
heart.'
'You are right, sir,' cried I, catching at the words; 'I may know
but little, and that little, perhaps, valueless and insignificant, but
my truth no man shall gainsay.'
The boldness of this speech from one wasted and miserable as I was,
with tattered shoes and ragged clothes, caused a hearty laugh, in
which, as much from policy as feeling, I joined myself.
'Come here, mon cher,' said an infantry colonel, as, walking
to the door of the room, he drew his telescope from his pocket; 'you
tell us of a coup de mainon the Monte Faccio, is it not?'
'Yes,' replied I promptly, 'so I understand the name.'
'Well, have you ever seen the place?'
'Never.'
'Well, there it is yonder'; and he handed me his glass as he spoke.
'You see that large beetling cliff, with the olives at the foot? There,
on the summit, stands the Monte Faccio. The roadthe pathway rather,
and a steep one it isleads up where you see those goats feeding, and
crosses in front of the crag, directly beneath the fire of the
batteries. There's not a spot on the whole ascent where three men could
march abreast; and wherever there is any shelter from fire, the guns of
the Sprona, that small fort to the right, take the whole position.
What do you think of your counsel now?'
'You forget, sir, it is not my counsel. I merely repeat what I
overheard.'
'And do you mean to say, that the men who gave that advice were
serious, or capable of adopting it themselves?'
'Most assuredly; they would never recommend to others what they felt
unequal to themselves. I know these English well, and so much will I
say of them.'
'Bah!' cried he, with an insolent gesture of his hand, and turned
away; and I could plainly see that my praises of the enemy were very
ill-taken. In fact, my unlucky burst of generosity had done more to
damage my credit than all the dangerous or impracticable features of my
scheme. Every eye was turned to the bold precipice, and the stern
fortress that crowned it, and all agreed that an attack must be
hopeless.
I saw, too late, the great fault I had committed, and that nothing
could be more wanting in tact than to suggest to Frenchmen an
enterprise which Englishmen deemed practicable, and which yet, to the
former, seemed beyond all reach of success. The insult was too palpable
and too direct; but to retract was impossible, and I had now to sustain
a proposition which gave offence on every side.
It was very mortifying to me to see how soon all my personal credit
was merged in this unhappy theory. No one thought more of my hazardous
escape, the perils I encountered, or the sufferings I had undergone.
All that was remembered of me was the affront I had offered to the
national courage, and the preference I had implied to English bravery.
Never did I pass a more tormenting day. New arrivals continually
refreshed the discussion, and always with the same results. And
although some were satisfied to convey their opinions by a shake of the
head or a dubious smile, others, more candid than civil, plainly
intimated that if I had nothing of more consequence to tell, I might as
well have stayed where I was, and not added one more to a garrison so
closely pressed by hunger. Very little more of such reasoning would
have persuaded myself of its truth, and I almost began to wish that I
was once more back in the 'sick bay' of the frigate.
Towards evening I was left alone. My host went down to the town on
duty; and after the visit of a tailor, who came to try on me a staff
uniforma distinction, I afterwards learned, owing to the abundance of
this class of costume, and not to any claims I could prefer to the
rankI was perfectly free to stroll about where I pleased unmolested,
and, no small blessing, unquestioned.
On following along the walls for some distance, I came to a part
where a succession of deep ravines opened at the foot of the bastions,
conducting by many a tortuous and rocky glen to the Apennines. The
sides of these gorges were dotted here and there with wild hollies and
fig-trees, stunted and ill-thriven, as the nature of the soil might
imply. Still, for the sake of the few berries, or the sapless fruit
they bore, the soldiers of the garrison were accustomed to creep out
from the embrasures and descend the steep cliffsa peril great enough
in itself, but terribly increased by the risk of exposure to the
enemy's tirailleurs, as well as the consequences such indiscipline
would bring down on them.
So frequent, however, had been these infractions, that little
footpaths were worn bare along the face of the cliff, traversing in
many a zigzag a surface that seemed like a wall. It was almost
incredible that men would brave such peril for so little, but famine
had rendered them indifferent to death; and although debility exhibited
itself in every motion and gesture, the men would stand unshrinking and
undismayed beneath the fire of a battery. At one spot, near the angle
of a bastion, and where some shelter from the north winds protected the
place, a little clump of orange-trees stood; and towards these, though
fully a mile off, many a foot-track led, showing how strong had been
the temptation in that quarter. To reach it, the precipice should be
traversed, the gorge beneath and a considerable ascent of the opposite
mountain accomplished; and yet all these dangers had been successfully
encountered, merely instigated by hunger!
High above this very spot, at a distance of perhaps eight hundred
feet, stood the Monte Facciothe large black and yellow banner of
Austria floating from its walls, as if amid the clouds. I could see the
muzzles of the great guns protruding from the embrasures; and I could
even catch glances of a tall bearskin, as some soldier passed or
repassed behind the parapet, and I thought how terrible would be the
attempt to storm such a position. It was, indeed, true, that if I had
the least conception of the strength of the fort, I never should have
dared to talk of a coup de main. Still I was in a manner pledged
to the suggestion. I had perilled my life for it, and few men do as
much for an opinion; for this reason I resolved, come what would, to
maintain my ground, and hold fast to my conviction. I never could be
called upon to plan the expedition, nor could it by any possibility be
confided to my guidance; responsibility could not, therefore, attach to
me. All these were strong arguments, at least quite strong enough to
decide a wavering judgment.
Meditating on these things, I strolled back to my quarters. As I
entered the garden, I found that several officers were assembled, among
whom was Colonel de Barre, the brother of the general of that name who
afterwards fell at the Borodino. He was chef d'état-major to
Masséna, and a most distinguished and brave soldier. Unlike the fashion
of the day, which made the military man affect the rough coarseness of
a savage, seasoning his talk with oaths, and curses, and low
expressions, De Barre had something of the petit-maître in his
address, which nothing short of his well-proved courage would have
saved from ridicule. His voice was low and soft, his smile perpetual;
and although well bred enough to have been dignified and easy, a
certain fidgety impulse to be pleasing made him always appear affected
and unnatural. Never was there such a contrast to his chief; but indeed
it was said, that to this very disparity of temperament he owed all the
influence he possessed over Masséna's mind.
I might have been a general of division at the very least, to judge
from the courteous deference of the salute with which he approached
mea politeness the more striking, as all the others immediately fell
back, to leave us to converse together. I was actually overcome with
the flattering terms in which he addressed me on the subject of my
escape.
'I could scarcely at first credit the story,' said he, 'but when
they told me that you were a Ninth man, one of the old Tapageurs, I
never doubted it more. You see what a bad character is, Monsieur de
Tiernay!' It was the first time I had ever heard the prefix to my name,
and I own the sound was pleasurable. 'I served a few months with your
corps myself, but I soon saw there was no chance of promotion among
fellows all more eager than myself for distinction. Well, sir, it is
precisely to this reputation I have yielded my credit, and to which
General Masséna is kind enough to concede his own confidence. Your
advice is about to be acted on, Monsieur de Tiernay.'
'The coup de main'
'A little lower, if you please, my dear sir. The expedition is to be
conducted with every secrecy, even from the officers of every rank
below a command. Have the goodness to walk along with me this way. If I
understand General Masséna aright, your information conveys no details,
nor any particular suggestions as to the attack.'
'None whatever, sir. It was the mere talk of a gunroomthe popular
opinion among a set of young officers.'
'I understand,' said he, with a bow and a smile'the suggestion of
a number of high-minded and daring soldiers, as to what they deemed
practicable.'
'Precisely, sir.'
'Neither could you collect from their conversation anything which
bore upon the number of the Austrian advance guard, or their state of
preparation?'
'Nothing, sir. The opinion of the English was, I suspect, mainly
founded on the great superiority of our forces to the enemy's in all
attacks of this kind.'
'Our esprit tapageur eh?' said he, laughing, and pinching
my arm familiarly, and I joined in the laugh with pleasure. 'Well,
Monsieur de Tiernay, let us endeavour to sustain this good impression.
The attempt is to be made to-night.'
'To-night!' exclaimed I, in amazement, for everything within the
city seemed tranquil and still.
'To-night, sir; and, by the kind favour of General Masséna, I am to
lead the attackthe reserve, if we are ever to want it, being under
his own command It is to be at your own option on which staff you will
serve.'
'On yours, of course, sir,' cried I hastily. 'A man who stands
unknown and unvouched for among his comrades, as I do, has but one way
to vindicate his claim to creditby partaking the peril he counsels.'
'There could be no doubt either of your judgment, or the sound
reasons for it,' replied the colonel; 'the only question was, whether
you might be unequal to the fatigue.'
'Trust me, sir, you'll not have to send me to the rear,' said I,
laughing.
'Then you are extra on my staff, Monsieur de Tiernay.'
As we walked along, he proceeded to give me the details of our
expedition, which was to be on a far stronger scale than I anticipated.
Three battalions of infantry, with four light batteries, and as many
squadrons of dragoons, were to form the advance.
'We shall neither want the artillery nor cavalry, except to cover a
retreat,' said he; 'I trust, if it come to that, there will not be many
of us to protect; but such are the general's orders, and we have but to
obey them.'
With the great events of that night on my memory, it is strange that
I should retain so accurately in my mind the trivial and slight
circumstances, which are as fresh before me as if they had occurred but
yesterday.
It was about eleven o'clock, of a dark but starry night, not a
breath of wind blowing, that, passing through a number of gloomy,
narrow streets, I suddenly found myself in the courtyard of the Balbé
Palace. A large marble fountain was playing in the centre, around which
several lamps were lighted; by these I could see that the place was
crowded with officers, some seated at tables drinking, some smoking,
and others lounging up and down in conversation. Huge loaves of black
bread, and wicker-covered flasks of country wine, formed the
entertainment; but even these, to judge from the zest of the guests,
were no common delicacies. At the foot of a little marble group, and
before a small table, with a map on it, sat General Masséna himself, in
his grey overcoat, cutting his bread with a case-knife, while he talked
away to his staff.
'These maps are good for nothing, Bressi,' cried he. 'To look at
them, you 'd say that every road was practicable for artillery, and
every river passable, and you find afterwards that all these fine
chaussées are bypaths, and the rivulets downright torrents. Who
knows the Chiavari road?'
'Giorgio knows it well, sir,' said the officer addressed, and who
was a young Piedmontese from Massena's own village.
'Ah, Birbante!' cried the general, 'are you here again?' and he
turned laughingly towards a little bandy-legged monster, of less than
three feet high, who, with a cap stuck jauntily on one side of his
head, and a wooden sword at his side, stepped forward with all the
confidence of an equal.
'Ay, here I am,' said he, raising his hand to his cap, soldier
fashion; 'there was nothing else for it but this trade,' and he placed
his hand on the hilt of his wooden weapon. 'You cut down all the
mulberries and left us no silkworms; you burned all the olives, and
left us no oil; you trampled down our maize crops and our vines. Per
Baccho! the only thing left was to turn brigand like yourself, and
see what would come of it.'
'Is he not cool to talk thus to a general at the head of his staff?'
said Masséna, with an assumed gravity.
'I knew you when you wore a different-looking epaulette than that
there,' said Giorgio, 'and when you carried one of your father's
meal-sacks on your shoulder instead of all that bravery.'
'Parbleu! so he did,' cried Masséna, laughing heartily. 'That
scoundrel was always about our mill, and, I believe, lived by
thieving!' added he, pointing to the dwarf.
'Every one did a little that way in our village,' said the dwarf;
'but none ever profited by his education like yourself.'
If the general and some of the younger officers seemed highly amused
at the fellow's impudence and effrontery, some of the others looked
angry and indignant. A few were really well born, and could afford to
smile at these recognitions; but many who sprung from an origin even
more humble than the general's could not conceal their angry
indignation at the scene.
'I see that these gentlemen are impatient of our vulgar
recollections,' said Masséna, with a sardonic grin; 'so now to
business, Giorgio. You know the Chiavari roadwhat is't like?'
'Good enough to look at, but mined in four places.'
The general gave a significant glance at the staff, and bade him go
on.
'The white-coats are strong in that quarter, and have eight guns to
bear upon the road, where it passes beneath Monte Ratte.'
'Why, I was told that the pass was undefended!' cried Masséna
angrily'that a few skirmishers were all that could be seen near it.'
'All that could be seen!so they are; but there are eight
twelve-pounder guns in the brushwood, with shot and shell enough to be
seen, and felt too.'
Masséna now turned to the officers near him, and conversed with them
eagerly for some time. The debated point I subsequently heard was how
to make a feint attack on the Chiavari road, to mask the coup de
main intended for the Monte Faccio. To give the false attack any
colour of reality, required a larger force and greater preparation than
they could afford, and this was now the great difficulty. At last it
was resolved that this should be a mere demonstration, not to push far
beyond the walls, but, by all the semblance of a serious advance, to
attract as much attention as possible from the enemy.
Another and a greater embarrassment lay in the fact, that the troops
intended for the coup de main had no other exit than the gate
which led to Chiavari, so that the two lines of march would intersect
and interfere with each other. Could we even have passed out our
tirailleurs in advance, the support would easily follow; but the enemy
would, of course, notice the direction our advance would take, and our
object be immediately detected.
'Why not pass the skirmishers out by the embrasures, to the left
yonder,' said I; 'I see many a track where men have gone already.'
'It is steep as a wall,' cried one.
'And there's a breast of rock in front that no foot could scale.'
'You have at least a thousand feet of precipice above you, when you
reach the glen, if ever you do reach it alive.'
'And this to be done in the darkness of a night!' Such were the
discouraging comments which rattled, quick as musketry, around me.
'The lieutenant's right, nevertheless,' said Giorgio. 'Half the
voltigeurs of the garrison know the path well already; and as to
darknessif there were a moon you dared not attempt it.'
'There's some truth in that,' observed an old major.
'Could you promise to guide them, Giorgio?' said Masséna.
'Yes, every step of the wayup to the very walls of the fort.'
'There, then,' cried the general, 'one great difficulty is got over
already.*
'Not so fast, générale mio,' said the dwarf; 'I said I could,
but I never said that I would.'
'Not for a liberal present, Giorgio; not if I filled that leather
pouch of yours with five-franc pieces, man?'
'I might not live to spend it, and I care little for my next of
kin,' said the dwarf dryly.
'I don't think that we need his services, general,' said I; 'I saw
the place this evening, and however steep it seems from the walls, the
descent is practicable enoughat least I am certain that our
tirailleurs, in the Black Forest, would never have hesitated about it.'
I little knew that when I uttered this speech I had sent a shot into
the very heart of the magazine, the ruling passion of Masséna's mind
being an almost insane jealousy of Moreau's military famehis famous
campaign of Southern Germany, and his wonderful retreat upon the Rhine,
being regarded as achievements of the highest order.
'I've got some of those regiments you speak of in my brigade here,
sir,' said he, addressing himself directly to me, and I must own that
their discipline reflects but little credit on the skill of so great an
officer as General Moreau; and as to light troops, I fancy Colonel de
Vallence yonder would scarcely feel it a flattery were you to tell him
to take a lesson from them.'
'I have just been speaking to Colonel de Vallence, general,' said
Colonel de Barre. 'He confirms everything Monsieur de Tiernay tells us
of the practicable nature of these paths; his fellows have tracked them
at all hours, and neither want guidance nor direction to go.'
'In that case I may as well offer my services,' said Giorgio,
tightening his belt; 'but I must tell you that it is too late to begin
to-nightwe must start immediately after nightfall. It will take from
forty to fifty minutes to descend the cliff, a good two hours to climb
the ascent, so that you 'll not have much time to spare before
daybreak.'
Giorgio's opinion was backed by several others, and it was finally
resolved upon that the attempt should be made on the following evening.
Meanwhile, the dwarf was committed to the safe custody of a sergeant,
affectedly to look to his proper care and treatment, but really to
guard against any imprudent revelations that he might make respecting
the intended attack.
CHAPTER XXXVI. GENOA DURING THE
SIEGE
If the natural perils of the expedition were sufficient to suggest
grave thoughts, the sight of the troops that were to form it was even a
stronger incentive to fear. I could not believe my eyes, as I watched
the battalions which now deployed before me. Always accustomed,
whatever the hardships they were opposed to, to see French soldiers
light-hearted, gay, and agile, performing their duties in a spirit of
sportive pleasure, as if soldiering were but fun, what was the shock I
received at sight of these careworn, downcast, hollow-cheeked fellows,
dragging their legs wearily along, and scarcely seeming to hear the
words of command; their clothes, patched and mended, sometimes too big,
sometimes too little, showing that they had changed wearers without
being altered; their tattered shoes, tied on with strings round the
ankles; their very weapons dirty and uncared for; they resembled rather
a horde of bandits than the troops of the first army of Europe. There
was, besides, an expression of stealthy, treacherous ferocity in their
faces, such as I never saw before. To this pitiable condition had they
been brought by starvation. Not alone the horses had been eaten, but
dogs and cats; even the vermin of the cellars and sewers was consumed
as food. Leather and skins were all eagerly devoured; and there is but
too terrible reason to believe that human flesh itself was used to
prolong for a few hours this existence of misery.
As they defiled into the 'Piazza,' there seemed a kind of effort to
assume the port and bearing of their craft; and although many stumbled,
and some actually fell, from weakness, there was an evident attempt to
put on a military appearance. The manner of the adjutant, as he passed
down the line, revealed at once the exact position of affairs. No
longer inspecting every little detail of equipment, criticising this,
or remarking on that, his whole attention was given to the condition of
the musket, whose lock he closely scrutinised, and then turned to the
cartouch-box. The ragged uniforms, the uncouth shakos, the belts dirty
and awry, never called forth a word of rebuke. Too glad, as it seemed,
to recognise even the remnants of discipline, he came back from his
inspection apparently well satisfied and content.
'These fellows turn out well,' said Colonel de Barre, as he looked
along the line; and I started to see if the speech were an unfeeling
jest. Far from it; he spoke in all seriousness. The terrible scenes he
had for months been witnessing; the men dropping from hunger at their
posts; the sentries fainting as they carried arms, and borne away to
the hospital to die; the bursts of madness that would now and then
break forth from men whose agony became unendurable, had so steeled him
to horrors, that even this poor shadow of military display seemed
orderly and imposing.
'They are the 22nd, colonel,' replied the adjutant, proudly, 'a
corps that always have maintained their character, whether on parade or
under fire!'
'Ah! the 22nd, are they? They have come up from Ronco, then?'
'Yes, sir; they were all that General Soult could spare us.'
'Fine-looking fellows they are,' said De Barre, scanning them
through his glass. 'The third company is a little, a very little to the
reardon't you perceive it?and the flank is a thought or so restless
and unsteady.'
'A sergeant has just been carried to the rear ill, sir,' said a
young officer, in a low voice.
'The heat, I have no douht; a colpo di sole, as they tell us
everything is,' said De Barre. 'By the way, is not this the regiment
that boasts the pretty vivandière? What's this her name is?'
'Lela, sir.'
'Yes, to be sure, Lela. I'm sure I've heard her toasted often enough
at cafés and restaurants.'
'There she is, sir, yonder, sitting on the steps of the fountain';
and the officer made a sign with his sword for the girl to come over.
She made an effort to arise at the order, but tottered back, and would
have fallen if a soldier had not caught her. Then suddenly collecting
her strength, she arranged the folds of her short scarlet jupe, and
smoothing down the braids of her fair hair, came forward, at that
sliding, half-skipping pace that is the wont of her craft.
The exertion, and possibly the excitement, had flushed her cheek, so
that as she came forward her look was brilliantly handsome; but as the
colour died away, and a livid pallor spread over her jaws, lank and
drawn in by famine, her expression was dreadful. The large eyes,
lustrous and wild-looking, gleaming with the fire of fever, while her
thin nostrils quivered at each respiration.
Poor girl, even then, with famine and fever eating within her, the
traits of womanly vanity still survived, and as she carried her hand to
her cap in salute, she made a faint attempt at a smile.
'The 22nd may indeed be proud of their vivandière,* said De Barre
gallantly.
'What hast in the tonnslet, Lela?' continued he, tapping the
little silver-hooped barrel she carried at her back.
'Ah, que voulez-vous? cried she laughing, with a low, husky
sound, the laugh of famine.
'I must have a glass of it to your health, ma belle Lela, if
it cost me a crown-piece'; and he drew forth the coin as he spoke.
'For such a toast, the liquor is quite good enough,' said Lela,
drawing back at the offer of money; while slinging the little cask in
front, she unhooked a small silver cup, and filled it with water.
'No brandy, Lela?'
'None, colonel,' said she, shaking her head; 'and if I had, those
poor fellows yonder would not like it so well.'
'I understand,' said he significantly; 'theirs is the thirst of
fever.'
A short, dry cough, and a barely perceptible nod of the head, was
all her reply; but their eyes met, and any so sad an expression as they
interchanged I never beheld! it was a confession in full of all each
had seen of sorrow, of suffering, and of deaththe terrible events
three months of famine had revealed, and all the agonies of pestilence
and madness.
'That is delicious water, Tiernay,' said the colonel, as he passed
me the cup, and thus trying to get away from the sad theme of his
thoughts.
'I fetch it from a well outside the walls every morning,' said Lela;
'ay, and within gunshot of the Austrian sentries, too.'
'There's coolness for you, Tiernay,' said the colonel; 'think what
the 22nd are made of when their vivandière dares to do this!'
'They'll not astonish him,' said Lela, looking steadily at me
'And why not, ma belle?' cried De Barre. 'He was a Tapageur,
one of the Naughty Ninth, as they called them.'
'How do you know that, Lela? Have we ever met before?' cried I
eagerly.
'I've seen you, sir,' said she slyly. 'They used to call you the
corporal that won the battle of Kehl. I know my father always said so.'
I would have given worlds to have interrogated her further; so
fascinating is selfishness, that already at least a hundred questions
were presenting themselves to my mind. Who could Lela be? and who was
her father? and what were these reports about me? Had I really won fame
without knowing it? and did my comrades indeed speak of me with honour?
All these, and many more inquiries, were pressing for utterance, as
General Masséna walked up with his staff. The general fully
corroborated De Barre's opinion of the '22nd.' They were, as he
expressed it, a 'magnificent body.' It was a perfect pleasure to see
such troops under arms.' 'Those fellows certainly exhibited few traces
of a starved-out garrison.'
Such and such like were the observations bandied from one to the
other, in all the earnest seriousness of truth What more terrible
evidence of the scenes they had passed through, than these convictions!
What more stunning proof of the condition to which long suffering had
reduced them!
'Where is our pleasant friend, who talked to us of the Black Forest
last night? Ah, there he is; well, Monsieur Tiernay, do you think
General Moreau's people turned out better than that after the retreat
from Donau-eschingen?'
There was no need for any reply, since the scornful burst of
laughter of the staff already gave the answer he wanted; and now he
walked forward to the centre of the piazza, while the troops proceeded
to march past.
The band, a miserable group, reduced from fifty to thirteen in
number, struck up a quick step, and the troops, animated by the sounds,
and more still, perhaps, by Masséna's presence, made an effort to step
out in quick time; but the rocking, wavering motion, the clinking
muskets and uncertain gait, were indescribably painful to a soldier's
eye. Their colonel, De Vallence, however, evidently did not regard them
thus, for as he joined the staff, he received the general's compliments
with all the good faith and composure in the world.
The battalions were marched off to barracks, and the group of
officers broke up to repair to their several quarters. It was the hour
of dinner, but it had been many a day since that meal had been heard of
amongst them. A stray café here and there was open in the city, but a
cup of coffee, without milk, and a small roll of black bread, a horrid
compound of rye and cocoa, was all the refreshment obtainable; and yet,
I am bold to say that a murmur or a complaint was unheard against the
general or the Government. The heaviest reverses, the gloomiest hours
of ill fortune, never extinguished the hope that Genoa was to be
relieved at last, and that all we had to do was to hold out for the
arrival of Bonaparte. To the extent of this conviction is to be
attributed the wide disparity between the feeling displayed by the
military and the townsfolk.
The latter, unsustained by hope, without one spark of speculation to
cheer their gloomy destiny, starved, and sickened, and died in masses.
The very requirements of discipline were useful in averting the
despondent vacuity which comes of hunger. Of the sanguine confidence of
the soldiery in the coming of their comrades, I was to witness a strong
illustration on the very day of which I have been speaking.
It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, the weather had been
heavy and overcast, and the heat excessive, so that all who were free
from duty had either lain down to sleep, or were quietly resting within
doors, when a certain stir and movement in the streets, a rare event
during the hours of the siesta, drew many a head to the windows. The
report ran, and like wildfire it spread through the city, that the
advanced guard of Bonaparte had reached Ronco that morning, and were
already in march on Genoa. Although nobody could trace this story to
any direct source, each believed and repeated it; the tale growing more
consistent and fuller at every repetition. I need not weary my reader
with all the additions and corrections the narrative received, nor
recount how now it was Moreau with the right wing of the army of the
Rhine; now it was Kellermann's brigade; now it was Macdonald, who had
passed the Ticino; and last of all, Bonaparte. The controversy was
often even an angry one, when, finally, all speculation was met by the
official report, that all that was known lay in the simple fact, that
heavy guns had been heard that morning, near Ronco, and as the
Austrians held no position with artillery there, the firing must needs
be French.
This very bare announcement was, of course, a great 'come down' for
all the circumstantial detail with which we had been amusing ourselves
and each other, but yet it nourished hope, and the hope that was
nearest to all our hearts, too! The streets were soon filled; officers
and soldiers hastily dressed, and with many a fault of costume were all
commingled, exchanging opinions, resolving doubts, and even bandying
congratulations. The starved and hungry faces were lighted up with an
expression of savage glee. It was like the last flickering gleam of
passion in men whose whole vitality was the energy of fever! The heavy
debt they owed their enemy was at last to be paid, and all the
insulting injury of a besieged and famine-stricken garrison to be
avenged. A surging movement in the crowd told that some event had
occurred; it was Masséna and his staff, who were proceeding to a
watch-tower in the bastion, from whence a wide range of country could
be seen. This was reassuring. The general himself entertained the
story, and here was proof that there was 'something in it.' All the
population now made for the walls; every spot from which the view
towards Ronco could be obtained was speedily crowded, every window
filled, and all the housetops crammed. A dark mass of inky cloud
covered the tops of the Apennines, and even descended to some distance
down the sides. With what shapes and forms of military splendour did
our imaginations people the space behind that sombre curtain! What
columns of stern warriors, what prancing squadrons, what earth-shaking
masses of heavy artillery! How longingly each eye grew weary
watchingwaiting for the veil to be rent, and the glancing steel to be
seen glistening bright in the sun-rays!
As if to torture our anxieties, the lowering mass grew darker and
heavier, and, rolling lazily adown the mountain, it filled up the
valley, wrapping earth and sky in one murky mantle.
'There, did you hear that?' cried one; 'that was artillery.'
A pause followed, each ear was bent to listen, and not a word was
uttered for full a minute or more; the immense host, as if swayed by
the one impulse, strained to catch the sounds, when suddenly, from the
direction of the mountain top, there came a rattling, crashing noise,
followed by the dull, deep booming that every soldier's heart responds
to What a cheer then burst forth! never did I hearnever may I
hearsuch a cry as that was; it was like the wild yell of a
shipwrecked crew, as some distant sail hove in sight; and yet, through
its cadence, there rang the mad lust for vengeance! Yes, in all the
agonies of sinking strength, with fever in their hearts, and the death
sweat on their cheeks, their cry was Blood! The puny shout, for such it
seemed now, was drowned in the deafening crash that now was heard; peal
after peal shook the air, the same rattling, peppering noise of
musketry continuing through all.
That the French were in strong force, as well as the enemy, there
could now be no doubt. Nothing but a serious affair and a stubborn
resistance could warrant such a fire. It had every semblance of an
attack with all arms. The roar of the heavy guns made the air vibrate,
and the clatter of small-arms was incessant. How each of us filled up
the picture from the impulses of his own fancy! Some said that the
French were still behind the mountain, and storming the heights of the
Borghetto; others thought that they had gained the summit, but not
en force, and were only contesting their position there; and a few,
more sanguine, of whom I was one myself, imagined that they were
driving the Austrians down the Apennines, cleaving their ranks, as they
went, with their artillery.
Each new crash, every momentary change of direction of the sounds,
favoured this opinion or that, and the excitement of partisanship rose
to an immense height. What added indescribably to the interest of the
scene, was a group of Austrian officers on horseback, who, in their
eagerness to obtain tidings, had ridden beyond their lines, and were
now standing almost within musket range of us. We could see that their
telescopes were turned to the eventful spot, and we gloried to think of
the effect the scene must have been producing on them.
'They've seen enough!' cried one of our fellows, laughing, while he
pointed to the horsemen, who, suddenly wheeling about, galloped back to
their camp at full speed.
'You 'll have the drums beat to arms now; there's little time to
lose. Our cuirassiers will soon be upon them,' cried another, in
ecstasy.
'No, but the rain will, and upon us, too,' said Giorgio, who had now
come up; 'don't you see that it's not a battle yonder, it's a
burrasca. There it comes.' And as if the outstretched finger of the
dwarf had been the wand of a magician, the great cloud was suddenly
torn open with a crash, and the rain descended like a deluge, swept
along by a hurricane wind, and came in vast sheets of water, while high
over our heads, and moving onward towards the sea, growled the distant
thunder. The great mountain was now visible from base to summit, but
not a soldier, not a gun, to be seen! Swollen and yellow, the gushing
torrents leaped madly from crag to crag, and crashing trees, and
falling rocks, added their wild sounds to the tumult.
There we stood, mute and sorrow-struck, regardless of the seething
rain, unconscious of anything save our disappointment. The hope we
built upon had left us, and the dreary scene of storm around seemed but
a type of our own future! And yet we could not turn away, but with eyes
strained and aching, gazed at the spot from where our succour should
have come.
I looked up at the watch-tower, and there was Massena still, his
arms folded, on a battlement; he seemed to be deep in thought. At last
he arose, and, drawing his cloak across his face, descended the
winding-stair outside the tower. His step was slow, and more than once
he halted, as if to think. When he reached the walls, he walked rapidly
on, his suite following him.
'Ah, Monsieur Tiernay,' said he, as he passed me, 'you know what an
Apennine storm is now; but it will cool the air and give us delicious
weather'; and so he passed on with an easy smile.
CHAPTER XXXVII. MONTE DI PACCIO
The disappointment we had suffered was not the only circumstance
adverse to our expedition. The rain had now swollen the smallest
rivulets to the size of torrents; in many places the paths would be
torn away and obliterated, and everywhere the difficulty of a night
march enormously increased. Giorgio, however, who was, perhaps, afraid
of forfeiting his reward, assured the general that these mountain
streams subside even more rapidly than they rise; that such was the
dryness of the soil, no trace of rain would be seen by sunset, and that
we should have a calm, starry night; the very thing we wanted for our
enterprise.
We did not need persuasion to believe all he saidthe opinion
chimed in with our own wishes, and, better still, was verified to the
very letter by a glorious afternoon. Landward, the spectacle was
perfectly enchanting; the varied foliage of the Apennines, refreshed by
the rain, glittered and shone in the sun's rays, while in the bay, the
fleet, with sails hung out to dry, presented a grand and an imposing
sight. Better than all, Monte Faccio now appeared quite near us; we
could, even with the naked eye, perceive all the defences, and were
able to detect a party of soldiers at work outside the walls, clearing,
as it seemed, some watercourse that had been impeded by the storm.
Unimportant as the labour was, we watched it anxiously, for we thought
that perhaps before another sunset many a brave fellow's blood might
dye that earth. During the whole of that day, from some cause or other,
not a shot had been fired either from the land-batteries or the fleet,
and as though a truce had been agreed to, we sat watching each other's
movements peacefully and calmly.
'The Austrians would seem to have been as much deceived as
ourselves, sir,' said an old artillery sergeant to me, as I strolled
along the walls at nightfall. 'The pickets last night were close to the
glacis, but see, now they have fallen back a gunshot or more.'
'But they had time enough since to have resumed their old position,'
said I, half doubting the accuracy of the surmise.
'Time enough, parbleu! I should think so too! but when the
white-coats manoeuvre, they write to Vienna to ask, What's to be done
next?'
This passing remark, in which, with all its exaggeration, there lay
a germ of truth, was the universal judgment of our soldiers on those of
the Imperial army; and to the prevalence of the notion may be ascribed
much of that fearless indifference with which small divisions of ours
attacked whole army corps of the enemy. Bonaparte was the first to
point out this slowness, and to turn it to the best advantage.
'If our general ever intended a sortie, this would be the night for
it, sir,' resumed he; 'the noise of those mountain streams would mask
the sounds of a march, and even cavalry, if led with caution, might be
in upon them before they were aware.'
This speech pleased me, not only for the judgment it conveyed, but
as an assurance that our expedition was still a secret in the garrison.
On questioning the sergeant further, I was struck to find that he
had abandoned utterly all hope of ever seeing France again; such, he
told me, was the universal feeling of the soldiery. 'We know well, sir,
that Massena is not the man to capitulate, and we cannot expect to be
relieved' And yet with this stern, comfortless conviction on their
mindswith hunger, and famine, and pestilence on every sidethey
never uttered one word of complaint, not even a murmur of remonstrance.
What would Moreau's fellows say of us? What would the army of the Meuse
think? These were the ever-present arguments against surrender; and the
judgment of their comrades was far more terrible to them than the
grapeshot of the enemy.
'But do you not think, when Bonaparte crosses the Alps, he will
hasten to our relief?'
'Not he, sir! I know him well. I was in the same troop with him, a
bombardier at the same gun. Bonaparte will never go after small game
where there's a nobler prey before him. If he does cross the Alps,
he'll be for a great battle under Milan; or, mayhap, march on Venice.
He's not thinking of our starved battalions here; he's planning some
great campaign, depend on it. He never faced the Alps to succour
Genoa.'
How true was this appreciation of the great general's ambition, I
need scarcely repeat; but so it was at the time; many were able to
guess the bold aspirings of one who, to the nation, seemed merely one
among the numerous candidates for fame and honours.
It was about an hour after my conversation with the sergeant, that
an orderly came to summon me to Colonel de Barres quarters; and with
all my haste to obey, I only arrived as the column was formed. The plan
of attack was simple enough. Three Voltigeur companies were to attempt
the assault of the Monte Facoio, under De Barre; while, to engage
attention, and draw off the enemy's force, a strong body of infantry
and cavalry was to debouch on the Chiavari road, as though to force a
passage in that direction. In all that regarded secrecy and despatch
our expedition was perfect; and as we moved silently through the
streets, the sleeping citizens never knew of our march. Arrived at the
gate, the column halted, to give us time to pass along the walls and
descend the glen, an operation which, it was estimated, would take
forty-five minutes; at the expiration of this they were to issue forth
to the feint attack.
At a quick step we now pressed forward towards the angle of the
bastion, whence many a path led down the cliff in all directions. Half
a dozen of our men, well acquainted with the spot, volunteered as
guides, and the muskets being slung on the back, the word was given to
'move on,' the rallying-place being the plateau of the orange-trees I
have already mentioned.
'Steep enough this,' said De Barre to me, as, holding on by briers
and brambles, we slowly descended the gorge; 'but few of us will ever
climb it again.'
'You think so?' asked I, in some surprise.
'Of course, I know it,' said he. 'Vallence, who commands the
battalions below, always condemned the scheme; rely on it, he's not the
man to make himself out a false prophet. I don't pretend to tell you
that in our days of monarchy there were neither jealousies nor party
grudges, and that men were above all small and ungenerous rivalry; but,
assuredly, we had less of them than now. If the field of competition is
more open to every one, so are the arts by which success is won; a
preeminence in a republic means always the ruin of a rival If we fail,
as fail we must, he'll be a general.'
'But why must we fail?'
'For every reason; we are not in force; we know nothing of what we
are about to attack; and, if repulsed, have no retreat behind us.'
'Then why?' I stopped, for already I saw the impropriety of my
question.
'Why did I advise the attack?' said he mildly, taking up my
half-uttered question. 'Simply because death outside these walls is
quicker and more glorious than within them. There's scarcely a man who
follows us has not the same sentiment in his heart. The terrible scenes
of the last five weeks have driven our fellows to all but mutiny.
Nothing indeed maintained discipline but a kind of tigerish thirst for
vengeancea hope that the day of reckoning would come round, and one
fearful lesson teach these same white-coats how dangerous it is to
drive a brave enemy to despair.'
De Barre continued to talk in this strain as we descended, every
remark he made being uttered with all the coolness of one who talked of
a matter indifferent to him. At length the way became too steep for
much converse, and slipping and scrambling we now only interchanged a
chance word as we went. Although two hundred and fifty men were around
and about us, not a voice was heard; and, except the occasional
breaking of a branch, or the occasional fall of some heavy stone into
the valley, not a sound was heard. At length a long, shrill whistle
announced that the first man had reached the bottom, which, to judge
from the faintness of the sound, appeared yet a considerable distance
off. The excessive darkness increased the difficulty of the way, and De
Barre continued to repeat'that we had certainly been misinformed, and
that even in daylight the descent would take an hour.'
It was full half an hour after this when we came to a small rivulet,
the little boundary line between the two steep cliffs. Here our men
were all assembled, refreshing themselves with the water, still muddy
from recent rain, and endeavouring to arrange equipments and arms,
damaged and displaced by many a fall.
'We 've taken an hour and twenty-eight minutes,' said De Barre, as
he placed a firefly on the glass of his watch, to see the hour. 'Now,
men, let us make up for lost time. En avant!
'En avant!,' was quickly passed from mouth to mouth, and
never was a word more spirit-stirring to Frenchmen! With all the
alacrity of men fresh and 'eager for the fray,' they began the ascent,
and such was the emulous ardour to be first, that it assumed all the
features of a race.
A close pine wood greatly aided us now, and, in less time than we
could believe it possible, we reached the plateau appointed for our
rendezvous. This being the last spot of meeting before our attack on
the fort, the final dispositions were here settled on, and the orders
for the assault arranged. With daylight, the view from this terrace,
for such it was in reality, would have been magnificent, for even now,
in the darkness, we could track out the great thoroughfares of the
city, follow the windings of the bay and harbour, and, by the lights on
board, detect the fleet as it lay at anchor. To the left, and for many
a mile, as it seemed, were seen twinkling the bivouac fires of the
Austrian army; while directly above our heads, glittering like a red
star, shone the solitary gleam that marked out the 'Monte Faccio.'
I was standing silently at De Barre's side, looking on this sombre
scene, so full of terrible interest, when he clutched my arm violently,
and whispered'Look yonder; see, the attack has begun.'
The fire of the artillery had flashed as he spoke, and now, with his
very words, the deafening roar of the guns was heard from below.
'I told you he'd not wait for us, Tiernay. I told you how it would
happen!' cried he; then suddenly recovering his habitual composure of
voice and manner, he said, 'Now for our part, men; forwards!'
And away went the brave fellows, tearing up the steep mountain-side,
like an assault party at a breach. Though hidden from our view by the
darkness and the dense wood, we could hear the incessant din of large
and small arms; the roll of the drums summoning men to their quarters,
and what we thought were the cheers of charging squadrons.
Such was the mad feeling of excitement these sounds produced, that I
cannot guess what time elapsed before we found ourselves on the crest
of the mountain, and not above three hundred paces from the outworks of
the fort. The trees had been cut away on either side, so as to offer a
species of glacis, and this must be crossed under the fire of the
batteries, before an attack could be commenced. Fortunately for us,
however, the garrison was too confident of its security to dread a
coup de main from the side of the town, and had placed all their
guns along the bastion, towards Borghetto, and this De Barre
immediately detected. A certain 'alert' on the walls, however, and a
quick movement of lights here and there, showed that they had become
aware of the sortie from the town, and gradually we could see figure
after figure ascending the walls, as if to peer down into the valley
beneath.
'You see what Vallence has done for us,' said De Barre bitterly;
'but for him we should have taken these fellows, en flagrant délit, and carried their walls before they could turn out a captain's guard.'
As he spoke a heavy crashing sound was heard, and a wild cheer.
Already our pioneers had gained the gate, and were battering away at
it; another party had reached the walls, and thrown up their
rope-ladders, and the attack was opened. In fact, Giorgio had led one
division by a path somewhat shorter than ours, and they had begun the
assault before we issued from the pine wood.
We now came up at a run, but under a smart fire from the walls,
already fast crowding with men. Defiling close beneath the wall, we
gained the gate, just as it had fallen beneath the assaults of our men.
A steep covered way led up from it, and along this our fellows rushed
madly; but suddenly from the gloom a red glare flashed out, and a
terrible discharge of grape swept all before it. 'Lie down!' was now
shouted from front to rear, but even before the order could be obeyed
another and more fatal volley followed.
Twice we attempted to storm the ascent; but wearied by the labour of
the mountain passworn out by fatigueand, worse still, weak from
actual starvation, our men faltered! It was not fear, nor was there
anything akin to it; for even as they fell under the thick fire their
shrill cheers breathed stern defiance. They were utterly exhausted, and
failing strength could do no more! De Barre took the lead, sword in
hand, and with one of those wild appeals that soldiers never hear in
vain, addressed them; but the next moment his shattered corpse was
carried to the rear. The scaling party, alike repulsed, had now defiled
to our support; but the death-dealing artillery swept through us
without ceasing. Never was there a spectacle so terrible as to see men,
animated by courageous devotion, burning with glorious zeal, and yet
powerless from very debilityactually dropping from the weakness of
famine! The staggering stepthe faint shoutthe powerless chargeall
showing the ravages of pestilence and want!
Some sentiment of compassion must have engaged our enemies'
sympathy, for twice they relaxed their fire, and only resumed it as we
returned to the attack. One fearful discharge of grape, at pistol
range, now seemed to have closed the struggle; and as the smoke cleared
away, the earth was seen crowded with dead and dying. The broken ranks
no longer showed disciplinemen gathered in groups around their
wounded comrades, and, to all seeming, indifferent to the death that
menaced them. Scarcely an officer survived, and, among the dead beside
me, I recognised Giorgio, who still knelt in the attitude in which he
had received his death-wound.
I was like one in some terrible dream, powerless and
terror-stricken, as I stood thus amid the slaughtered and the wounded.
'You are my prisoner,' said a gruff-looking old Groat grenadier, as
he snatched my sword from my hand by a smart blow on the wrist; and I
yielded without a word.
'Is it over?' said I; 'is it over?'
'Yes, parbleu! I think it is,' said a comrade, whose cheek
was hanging down from a bayonet wound. 'There are not twenty of us
remaining, and they will do very little for the service of the Great
Republic'
CHAPTER XXXVIII. A ROYALIST 'DE LA
VIEILLE ROCHE'
On a hot and sultry day of June I found myself seated in a country
cart, and under the guard of two mounted dragoons, wending my way
towards Kuffstein, a Tyrol fortress, to which I was sentenced as a
prisoner. A weary journey was it; for in addition to my now sad
thoughts I had to contend against an attack of ague, which I had just
caught, and which was then raging like a plague in the Austrian camp.
One solitary reminiscence, and that far from a pleasant one, clings to
this period. We had halted on the outskirts of a little village called
'Broletto,' for the siesta, and there, in a clump of olives, were
quietly dozing away the sultry hours, when the clatter of horsemen
awoke us; and on looking up, we saw a cavalry escort sweep past at a
gallop. The corporal who commanded our party hurried into the village
to learn the news, and soon returned with the tidings that 'a great
victory had been gained over the French, commanded by Bonaparte in
person; that the army was in full retreat; and this was the despatch an
officer of Melas' staff was now hastening to lay at the feet of the
emperor.'
'I thought several times this morning,' said the corporal, 'that I
heard artillery; and so it seems I might, for we are not above twenty
miles from where the battle was fought.'
'And how is the place called?' asked I, in a tone sceptical enough
to be offensive.
'Marengo,' replied he; 'mayhap, the name will not escape your
memory.'
How true was the surmise, but in how different a sense from what he
uttered it! But so it was; even as late as four o'clock the victory was
with the Austrians. Three separate envoys had left the field with
tidings of success; and it was only late at night that the general,
exhausted by a disastrous day, and almost broken-hearted, could write
to tell his master that 'Italy was lost.'
I have many a temptation here to diverge from a line that I set down
for myself in these memoirs, and from which as yet I have not
wanderedI mean, not to dwell upon events wherein I was not myself an
actor; but I am determined still to adhere to my rule, and, leaving
that glorious event behind me, plod wearily along my journey.
Day after day we journeyed through a country teeming with abundance:
vast plains of corn and maize, olives and vines, everywhereon the
mountains, the crags, the rocks, festooned over cliffs, and spreading
their tangled networks over cottages; and yet everywhere poverty,
misery, and debasement, ruined villages, and a half-naked, starving
populace, met the eye at every turn. There was the stamp of slavery on
all, and still more palpably was there the stamp of despotism in the
air of their rulers.
If any spot can impress the notion of impregnability it is
Kuffstein. Situated on an eminence of rock over the Inn, three sides of
the base are washed by that rapid river. A little village occupies the
fourth; and from this the supplies are hoisted up to the garrison above
by cranes and pulleysthe only approach being by a path wide enough
for a single man, and far too steep and difficult of access to admit of
his carrying any burthen, however light. All that science and skill
could do is added to the natural strength of the position, and from
every surface of the vast rock itself the projecting mouths of guns and
mortars show resources of defence it would seem madness to attack.
Three thousand men, under the command of General Urleben, held this
fortress at the time I speak of, and by their habits of discipline and
vigilance showed that no over-security would make them neglect the
charge of so important a trust. I was the first French prisoner that
had ever been confined within the walls, and to the accident of my
uniform was I indebted for this distinction. I have mentioned that in
Genoa they gave me a staff-officer's dress and appointments, and from
this casual circumstance it was supposed that I should know a great
deal of Masséna's movements and intentions, and that by judicious
management I might be induced to reveal it.
General Urleben, who had been brought up in France, was admirably
calculated to have promoted such an object were it practicable. He
possessed the most winning address as well as great personal
advantages, and although now past the middle of life, was reputed one
of the handsomest men in Austria. He at once invited me to his table,
and having provided me with a delightful little chamber, from whence
the view extended for miles along the Inn, he sent me stores of books,
journals, and newspapers, French, English, and German, showing by the
very candour of their tidings a most flattering degree of confidence
and trust.
If imprisonment could ever be endurable with resignation, mine ought
to have been so. My mornings were passed in weeding or gardening a
little plot of ground outside my window, giving me ample occupation in
that way, and rendering carnations and roses dearer to me, through all
my after-life, than without such associations they would ever have
been. Then I used to sketch for hours, from the walls, bird's-eye
views, prisoner's glimpses, of the glorious Tyrol scenery below us.
Early in the afternoon came dinner; and then, with the general's
pleasant converse, a cigar, and a chess-board, the time wore smoothly
on till nightfall.
An occasional thunderstorm, grander and more sublime than anything I
have ever seen elsewhere, would now and then vary a life of calm but
not unpleasant monotony; and occasionally, too, some passing escort, on
the way to or from Vienna, would give tidings of the war; but except in
these, each day was precisely like the other, so that when the almanac
told me it was autumn, I could scarcely believe a single month had
glided over. I will not attempt to conceal the fact, that the
inglorious idleness of my life, this term of inactivity at an age when
hope, and vigour, and energy were highest within me, was a grievous
privation; but, except in these regrets, I could almost call this time
a happy one. The unfortunate position in which I started in life gave
me little opportunity, or even inclination for learning. Except the
little Père Michel had taught me, I knew nothing. I need not say that
this was but a sorry stock of education, even at that period, when, I
must say, the sabre was more in vogue than the grammar.
I now set steadily about repairing this deficiency. General Urleben
lent me all his aid, directing my studies, supplying me with books, and
at times affording me the still greater assistance of his counsel and
advice. To history generally, but particularly that of France, he made
me pay the deepest attention, and seemed never to weary while
impressing upon me the grandeur of our former monarchies, and the
happiness of France when ruled by her legitimate sovereigns.
I had told him all that I knew myself of my birth and family, and
frequently would he allude to the subject of my reading, by saying,
'The son of an old Garde du Corps needs no commentary when perusing
such details as these. Your own instincts tell you how nobly these
servants of a monarchy bore themselveswhat chivalry lived at that
time in men's hearts, and how generous and self-denying was their
loyalty.'
Such and such like were the expressions which dropped from him from
time to time; nor was their impression the less deep when supported by
the testimony of the memoirs with which he supplied me. Even in deeds
of military glory the Monarchy could compete with the Republic, and
Urleben took care to insist upon a fact I was never unwilling to
concedethat the well born were ever foremost in danger, no matter
whether the banner was a white one or a tricolour.
'Le bon sang ne peut pas mentir' was an adage I never disputed,
although certainly I never expected to hear it employed to the
disparagement of those to whom it did not apply.
As the winter set in I saw less of the general. He was usually much
occupied in the mornings, and at evenings he was accustomed to go down
to the village, where, of late, some French émigré families had
settledunhappy exiles, who had both peril and poverty to contend
against! Many such were scattered through the Tyrol at that period,
both for the security and the cheapness it afforded. Of these, Urleben
rarely spoke; some chance allusion, when borrowing a book or taking
away a newspaper, being the extent to which he ever referred to them.
One morning, as I sat sketching on the walls, he came up to me and
said, 'Strange enough, Tiernay, last night I was looking at a view of
this very scene, only taken from another point of sight; both were
correct, accurate in every detail, and yet most dissimilarwhat a
singular illustration of many of our prejudices and opinions! The
sketch I speak of was made by a young countrywoman of yoursa highly
gifted lady, who little thought that the accomplishments of her
education were one day to be the resources of her livelihood. Even so,'
said he, sighing, 'a marquise of the best blood of France is reduced to
sell her drawings!'
As I expressed a wish to see the sketches in question, he
volunteered to make the request if I would send some of mine in return;
and thus accidentally grew up a sort of intercourse between myself and
the strangers, which gradually extended to books and music, and,
lastly, to civil messages and inquiries of which the general was ever
the bearer.
What a boon was all this to me! What a sun-ray through the bars of a
prisoner's cell was this gleam of kindness and sympathy! The very
similarity of our pursuits, too, had something inexpressibly pleasing
in it, and I bestowed ten times as much pains upon each sketch, now
that I knew to whose eyes it would be submitted.
'Do you know, Tiernay,' said the general to me, one day, 'I am about
to incur a very heavy penalty in your behalfI am going to contravene
the strict orders of the War Office, and take you along with me this
evening down to the village.'
I started with surprise and delight together, and could not utter a
word.
'I know perfectly well,' continued he, 'that you will not abuse my
confidence. I ask, then, for nothing beyond your word, that you will
not make any attempt at escape; for this visit may lead to others, and
I desire, so far as possible, that you should feel as little constraint
as a prisoner well may.'
I readily gave the pledge required, and he went on'I have no
cautions to give you, nor any counselsMadame d'Aigreville is a
Royalist.'
'She is madame, then!' said I, in a voice of some disappointment.
'Yes, she is a widow, but her niece is unmarried,' said he, smiling
at my eagerness. I affected to hear the tidings with unconcern, but a
burning flush covered my cheek, and I felt as uncomfortable as
possible.
I dined that day as usual with the general, adjourning after dinner
to the little drawing-room, where we played our chess. Never did he
appear to me so tedious in his stories, so intolerably tiresome in his
digressions, as that evening. He halted at every movehe had some
narrative to recount, or some observation to make, that delayed our
game to an enormous time; and at last, on looking out of the window, he
fancied there was a thunderstorm brewing, and that we should do well to
put off our visit to a more favourable opportunity.
'It is little short of half a league,' said he, 'to the village, and
in bad weather is worse than double the distance.'
I did not dare to controvert his opinion, but, fortunately, a gleam
of sunshine shot, the same moment, through the window, and proclaimed a
fair evening.
Heaven knows I had suffered little of a prisoner's durancemy life
had been one of comparative freedom and ease; and yet, I cannot tell
the swelling emotion of my heart with which I emerged from the deep
archway of the fortress, and heard the bang of the heavy gate as it
closed behind me. Steep as was the path, I felt as if I could have
bounded down it without a fear! The sudden sense of liberty was
maddening in its excitement, and I half suspect that had I been on
horseback in that moment of wild delight, I should have forgotten all
my plighted word and parole, though I sincerely trust that the madness
would not have endured beyond a few minutes. If there be among my
readers one who has known imprisonment, he will forgive this confession
of a weakness, which to others of less experience will seem unworthy,
perhaps dishonourable.
Dorf Kuffstein was a fair specimen of the picturesque simplicity of
a Tyrol village. There were the usual number of houses, with carved
galleries and quaint images in wood, the shrines and altars, the little
'platz,' for Sunday recreation, and the shady alley for rifle practice.
There were also the trellised walks of vines, and the orchards; in
the midst of one of which we now approached a long, low farmhouse,
whose galleries projected over the river. This was the abode of Madame
d'Aigreville.
A peasant was cleaning a little mountain pony, from which a
side-saddle had just been removed as we came up, and he, leaving his
work, proceeded to ask us into the house, informing us, as he went,
that the ladies had just returned from a long ramble, and would be with
us presently.
The drawing-room into which we were shown was a perfect picture of
cottage elegance; all the furniture was of polished walnut-wood, and
kept in the very best condition. It opened by three spacious windows
upon the terrace above the river, and afforded a view of mountain and
valley for miles on every side. An easel was placed on this gallery,
and a small sketch in oils of Kuffstein was already nigh completed on
it. There were books, too, in different languages, and, to my
inexpressible delight, a piano!
The reader will smile, perhaps, at the degree of pleasure objects so
familiar and everyday called forth; but let him remember how removed
were all the passages of my life from such civilising influenceshow
little of the world had I seen beyond camps and barrack-rooms, and how
ignorant I was of the charm which a female presence can diffuse over
even the very humblest abode.
Before I had well ceased to wonder, and admire these objects, the
marquise entered.
A tall and stately old lady, with an air at once haughty and
gracious, received me with a profound curtsy, while she extended her
hand to the salute of the general She was dressed in deep mourning, and
wore her white hair in two braids along her face. The sound of my
native language, with its native accent, made me forget the almost
profound reserve of her manner, and I was fast recovering from the
constraint her coldness imposed, when her niece entered the room.
Mademoiselle, who was at that time about seventeen, but looked older by
a year or two, was the very ideal of brunette beauty; she was dark-eyed
and black-haired, with a mouth the most beautifully formed; her figure
was light, and her foot a model of shape and symmetry. All this I saw
in an instant, as she came, half-sliding, half-bounding, to meet the
general; and then turning to me, welcomed me with a cordial warmth,
very different from the reception of Madame la Marquise.
Whether it was the influence of her presence, whether it was a
partial concession of the old lady's own, or whether my own awkwardness
was wearing off by time, I cannot saybut gradually the stiffness of
the interview began to diminish. From the scenery around us we grew to
talk of the Tyrol generally, then of Switzerland, and lastly of France.
The marquise came from Auvergne, and was justly proud of the lovely
scenery of her birthplace.
Calmly and tranquilly as the conversation had been carried on up to
this period, the mention of France seemed to break down the barrier of
reserve within the old lady's mind, and she burst out in a wild flood
of reminiscences of the last time she had seen her native village. 'The
Blues,' as the revolutionary soldiers were called, had come down upon
the quiet valley, carrying fire and carnage into a once peaceful
district. The château of her family was razed to the ground; her
husband was shot upon his own terrace; the whole village was put to the
sword; her own escape was owing to the compassion of the gardener's
wife, who dressed her like a peasant boy, and employed her in a menial
station, a condition she was forced to continue so long as the troops
remained in the neighbourhood. 'Yes,' said she, drawing off her silk
mittens, 'these hands still witness the hardships I speak of. These are
the marks of my servitude.'
It was in vain the general tried at first to sympathise, and then
withdraw her from the theme; in vain her niece endeavoured to suggest
another topic, or convey a hint that the subject might be unpleasing to
me. It was the old lady's one absorbing idea, and she could not
relinquish it. Whole volumes of the atrocities perpetrated by the
revolutionary soldiery came to her recollection; each moment as she
talked, memory would recall this fact or the other, and so she
continued rattling on with the fervour of a heated imagination, and the
wild impetuosity of a half-crazed intellect. As for myself, I suffered
far more from witnessing the pain others felt for me, than from any
offence the topic occasioned me directly. These events were all 'before
my time.' I was neither a Blue by birth nor by adoption; a child during
the period of revolution, I had only taken a man's part when the
country, emerging from its term of anarchy and blood, stood at bay
against the whole of Europe. These consolations were, however, not
known to the others, and it was at last, in a moment of unendurable
agony, that mademoiselle rose and left the room.
The general's eyes followed her as she went, and then sought mine
with an expression full of deep meaning. If I read his look aright, it
spoke patience and submission; and the lesson was an easier one than he
thought.
'They talk of heroism,' cried she frantically'it was massacre! And
when they speak of chivalry they mean the slaughter of women and
children!' She looked round, and seeing that her niece had left the
room, suddenly dropped her voice to a whisper, and said, 'Think of her
mother's fate, dragged from her home, her widowed, desolate home, and
thrown into the Temple, outraged and insulted, condemned on a mock
trial, and then carried away to the guillotine! Ay, and even then, on
that spot which coming death might have sanctified, in that moment when
even fiendish vengeance can turn away and leave its victim at liberty
to utter a last prayer in peace, even then, these wretches devised an
anguish greater than all death could compass. You will scarcely believe
me,' said she, drawing in her breath, and talking with an almost
convulsive effort, 'you will scarcely believe me in what I am now about
to tell you, but it is the truththe simple but horrible truth. When
my sister mounted the scaffold there was no priest to administer the
last rites. It was a time, indeed, when few were left; their hallowed
heads had fallen in thousands before that. She waited for a few
minutes, hoping that one would appear; and when the mob learned the
meaning of her delay, they set up a cry of fiendish laughter, and with
a blasphemy that makes one shudder to think of, they pushed forward a
boy, one of those blood-stained gamins of the streets, and made
him gabble a mock litany! Yes, it is truea horrible mockery of our
service, in the ears and before the eyes of that dying saint.'
'When? in what year? in what place was that?' cried I, in an agony
of eagerness.
'I can give you both time and place, sir,' said the marquise,
drawing herself proudly up, for she construed my question into a doubt
of her veracity. 'It was in the year 1703, in the month of August; and
as for the place, it was one well seasoned to bloodthe Place de Grève
at Paris.'
A fainting sickness came over me as I heard these words; the
dreadful truth flashed across me that the victim was the Marquise
d'Estelles, and the boy on whose infamy she dwelt so strongly, no other
than myself. For the moment, it was nothing to me that she had not
identified me with this atrocity; I felt no consolation in the thought
that I was unknown and unsuspected. The heavy weight of the indignant
accusation almost crushed me. Its falsehood I knew, and yet could I
dare to disprove it? Could I hazard the consequences of an avowal,
which all my subsequent pleadings could never obliterate. Even were my
innocence established in one point, what a position did it reduce me to
in every other!
These struggles must have manifested themselves strongly in my
looks, for the marquise, with all her self-occupation, remarked how ill
I seemed. 'I see sir,' cried she, 'that all the ravages of war have not
steeled your heart against true piety; my tale has moved you strongly.'
I muttered something in concurrence, and she went on. 'Happily for you,
you were but a child when such scenes were happening. Not, indeed, that
childhood was always unstained in those days of blood; but you were, as
I understand, the son of a Garde du Corps, one of those loyal men who
sealed their devotion with their life. Were you in Paris then?'
'Yes, madam,' said I briefly.
'With your mother, perhaps?'
'I was quite alone, madaman orphan on both sides.'
'What was your mother's family name?'
Here was a puzzle; but at a hazard I resolved to claim her who
should sound best to the ears of La Marquise. 'La Lasterie, madam,'
said I.
'La Lasterie de la Vignoblea most distinguished house, sir.
Provencal, and of the purest blood. Auguste de la Lasterie married the
daughter of the Duke de Miriancourt, a cousin of my husband's, and
there was another of them who went as ambassador to Madrid.'
I knew none of them, and I suppose I looked as much.
'Your mother was, probably, of the elder branch, sir?' asked she.
I had to stammer out a most lamentable confession of my ignorance.
'Not know your own kinsfolk, sirnot your nearest of blood!' cried
she, in amazement. 'General, have you heard this strange avowal? or is
it possible that my ears have deceived me?'
'Please to remember, madam,' said I submissively, 'the circumstances
in which I passed my infancy. My father fell by the guillotine.'
'And his son wears the uniform of those who slew him!'
'Of a French soldier, madam, proud of the service he belongs to;
glorying to be one of the first army in Europe.'
'An army without a cause is a banditti, sir. Your soldiers, without
loyalty, are without a banner.'
'We have a country, madam.'
'I must protest against this discussion going further,' said the
general blandly, while in a lower tone he whispered something in her
ear.
'Very true, very true,' said she; 'I had forgotten all that.
Monsieur de Tiernay, you will forgive me this warmth. An old woman, who
has lost nearly everything in the world, may have the privilege of bad
temper accorded her. We are friends now, I hope,' added she, extending
her hand, and, with a smile of most gracious meaning, beckoning to me
to sit beside her on the sofa.
Once away from the terrible theme of the Revolution, she conversed
with much agreeability; and her niece having reappeared, the
conversation became animated and pleasing. Need I say with what
interest I now regarded mademoisellethe object of all my boyish
devotion, the same whose pale features I had watched for many an hour
in the dim half-light of the little chapel, her whose image was never
absent from my thoughts waking or sleeping, and now again appearing
before me in all the grace of coming womanhood!
Perhaps to obliterate any impression of her aunt's severityperhaps
it was mere mannerbut I thought there was a degree of anxiety to
please in her bearing towards me. She spoke, too, as though our
acquaintance was to be continued by frequent meetings, and dropped
hints of plans that implied constant intercourse. Even excursions into
the neighbourhood she spoke of; when, suddenly stopping, she said, 'But
these are for the season of spring, and before that time Monsieur de
Tiernay will be far away.'
'Who can tell that?' said I. 'I would seem to be forgotten by my
comrades.'
'Then you must take care to do that which may refresh their memory,'
said she pointedly; and before I could question her more closely as to
her meaning, the general had risen to take his leave.
'Madame la Marquise was somewhat more tart than usual,' said he to
me, as we ascended the cliff; 'but you have passed the ordeal now, and
the chances are, she will never offend you in the same way again. Great
allowances must be made for those who have suffered as she has.
Familyfortunestationeven countryall lost to her; and even hope
now dashed by many a disappointment.'
Though puzzled by the last few words, I made no remark on them, and
he resumed
'She has invited you to come and see her as often as you are at
liberty; and, for my part, you shall not be restricted in that way. Go
and come as you please, only do not infringe the hours of the fortress;
and if you can concede a little now and then to the prejudices of the
old lady, your intercourse will be all the more agreeable to both
parties.'
'I believe, general, that I have little of the Jacobin to recant,'
said I, laughing.
'I should go further, my dear friend, and say, none,' added he.
'Your uniform is the only tint of blue about you.' And thus chatting,
we reached the fortress, and said good-night.
I have been particular, perhaps tiresomely so, in retelling these
broken phrases and snatches of conversation; but they were the first
matches applied to a train that was long and artfully laid.
CHAPTER XXXIX. A SORROWFUL PARTING
The general was as good as his word, and I now enjoyed the most
unrestricted liberty; in fact, the officers of the garrison said truly,
that they were far more like prisoners than I was. As regularly as
evening came, I descended the path to the village, and, as the bell
tolled out the vespers, I was crossing the little grass-plot to the
cottage. So regularly was I looked for, that the pursuits of each
evening were resumed as though only accidentally interrupted. The
unfinished game of chess, the half-read volume, the newly-begun
drawing, were taken up where we had left them, and life seemed to have
centred itself in those delightful hours between sunset and midnight.
I suppose there are few young men who have not, at some time or
other of their lives, enjoyed similar privileges, and known the
fascination of intimacy in some household, where the affections became
engaged as the intellect expanded, and, while winning another's heart,
have elevated their own. But to know the full charm of such
intercourse, one must have been as I wasa prisoneran orphanalmost
friendless in the worlda very 'waif' upon the shore of destiny. I
cannot express the intense pleasure these evenings afforded me. The
cottage was my home, and more than my home. It was a shrine at which my
heart worshippedfor I was in love! Easy as the confession is to make
now, tortures would not have wrung it from me then!
In good truth, it was long before I knew it; nor can I guess how
much longer the ignorance might have lasted, when General Urleben
suddenly dispelled the clouds, by informing me that he had just
received from the Minister of War at Vienna a demand for the name,
rank, and regiment of his prisoner, previous to the negotiation for his
exchange.
'You will fill up these blanks, Tiernay,' said he, 'and within a
month, or less, you will be once more free, and say adieu to
Kuffstein.'
Had the paper contained my dismissal from the service, I shame to
own it would have been more welcome! The last few months had changed
all the character of my life, suggested new hopes and new ambitions.
The career I used to glory in had grown distasteful; the comrades I
once longed to rejoin were now become almost repulsive to my
imagination. The marquise had spoken much of emigrating to some part of
the new world beyond seas, and thither my fancy alike pointed. Perhaps
my dreams of a future were not the less rose-coloured that they
received no shadow from anything like a 'fact.' The old lady's
geographical knowledge was neither accurate nor extensive, and she
contrived to invest this land of promise with old associations of what
she once heard of Pondicherrywith certain features belonging to the
United States. A glorious country it would indeed have been, which,
within a month's voyage, realised all the delights of the tropics, with
the healthful vigour of the temperate zone, and where, without an
effort beyond the mere will, men amassed enormous fortunes in a year or
two. In a calmer mood, I might, indeed must, have been struck with the
wild inconsistency of the old lady's imaginings, and looked with
somewhat of scepticism on the map for that spot of earth so richly
endowed; but now I believed everything, provided it only ministered to
my new hopes. Laura evidently, too, believed in the 'Canaan' of which,
at last, we used to discourse as freely as though we had been there.
Little discussions would, however, now and then vary the uniformity of
this creed, and I remember once feeling almost hurt at Laura's not
agreeing with me about zebras, which I assured her were just as
trainable as horses, but which the marquise flatly refused ever to use
in any of her carriages. These were mere passing clouds: the regular
atmosphere of our wishes was bright and transparent. In the midst of
these delicious daydreams, there came one day a number of letters to
the marquise by the hands of a courier on his way to Naples. What their
contents I never knew, but the tidings seemed most joyful, for the old
lady invited the general and myself to dinner, when the table was
decked out with white lilies on all sides; she herself, and Laura also,
wearing them in bouquets on their dresses.
The occasion had, I could see, something of a celebration about it.
Mysterious hints to circumstances I knew nothing of were constantly
interchanged, the whole ending with a solemn toast to the memory of the
'Saint and Martyr'; but who he was, or when he lived, I knew not one
single fact about.
That eveningI cannot readily forget itwas the first I had ever
an opportunity of being alone with Laura! Hitherto the marquise had
always been beside us; now she had all this correspondence to read over
with the general, and they both retired into a little boudoir for the
purpose, while Laura and myself wandered out upon the terrace, as
awkward and constrained as though our situation had been the most
provoking thing possible. It was on that same morning I had received
the general's message regarding my situation, and I was burning with
anxiety to tell it, and yet knew not exactly how. Laura, too, seemed
full of her own thoughts, and leaned pensively over the balustrade and
gazed on the stream.
'What are you thinking of so seriously?' asked I, after a long
pause.
'Of long, long ago,' said she, sighing, 'when I was a little child.
I remember a little chapel like that yonder, only that it was not on a
rock over a river, but stood in a small garden; and though in a great
city, it was as lonely and solitary as might bethe Chapelle de St.
Blois.'
'St. Blois, Laura!' cried I; 'oh, tell me about that!'
'Why, you surely never heard of it before,' said she, smiling. 'It
was in a remote quarter of Paris, nigh the outer Boulevard, and known
to but a very few. It had once belonged to our family; for in olden
times there were châteaux and country-houses within that space, which
then was part of Paris, and one of our ancestors was buried there. How
well I remember it all! The dim little aisle, supported on wooden
pillars; the simple altar, with the oaken crucifix, and the calm,
gentle features of the poor curé.'
'Can you remember all this so well?' asked I eagerly, for the theme
was stirring my very heart of hearts.
'Alleverythingthe straggling, weed-grown garden, through which
we passed to our daily devotions, the congregation standing
respectfully to let us walk by, for my mother was still the great
Marquise d'Estelles, although my father had been executed, and our
estates confiscated. They who had known us in our prosperity were as
respectful and devoted as ever; and poor old Richard, the lame
sacristan, that used to take my mother's bouquet from her, and lay it
on the altar; how everything stands out clear and distinct before my
memory! Nay, Maurice, but I can tell you more, for strangely enough,
certain things, merely trifles in themselves, make impressions that
even great events fail to do. There was a little boy, a child somewhat
older than myself, that used to serve the mass with the père, and he
always came to place a footstool or a cushion for my mother. Poor
little fellow, bashful and diffident he was, changing colour at every
minute, and trembling in every limb; and when he had done his duty, and
made his little reverence, with his hands crossed on his bosom, he used
to fall back into some gloomy corner of the church, and stand watching
us with an expression of intense wonder and pleasure! Yes, I think I
see his dark eyes, glistening through the gloom, ever fixed on me! I am
sure, Maurice, that little fellow fancied he was in love with me!'
'And why not, Laura? was the thing so very impossible? was it even
so unlikely?'
'Not that,' said she archly; 'but think of a mere child; we were
both mere children; and fancy him, the poor little boy, of some humble
house, perhapsof course he must have been thatraising his eyes to
the daughter of the great marquise; what energy of character there
must have been to have suggested the feeling! how daring he was, with
all his bashfulness!'
'You never saw him afterwards?'
'Never!'
'Never thought of him, perhaps?'
'I'll not say that,' said she, smiling. 'I have often wondered to
myself if that hardihood I speak of had borne good or evil fruit. Had
he been daring or enterprising in the right, or had he, as the sad
times favoured, been only bold and impetuous for the wrong!'
'And how have you pictured him to your imagination?' said I, as if
merely following out a fanciful vein of thought.
'My fancy would like to have conceived him a chivalrous adherent to
our ancient royalty, striving nobly in exile to aid the fortunes of
some honoured house, or daring, as many brave men have dared, the
heroic part of La Vendée. My reason, however, tells me that he was far
more likely to have taken the other part.'
'To which you will concede no favour, Laura; not even the love of
glory.'
'Glory, like honour, should have its fountain in a monarchy,' cried
she proudly. 'The rude voices of a multitude can confer no meed of
praise. Their judgments are the impulses of the moment. But why do we
speak of these things, Maurice? nor have I, who can but breathe my
hopes for a cause, the just pretension to contend with you, who shed
your blood for its opposite.'
As she spoke, she hurried from the balcony, and quitted the room. It
was the first time, as I have said, that we had ever been alone
together, and it was also the first time she had ever expressed herself
strongly on the subject of party. What a moment to have declared her
opinions, and when her reminiscences, too, had recalled our infancy!
How often was I tempted to interrupt that confession by declaring
myself, and how strongly was I repelled by the thought that the avowal
might sever us for ever! While I was thus deliberating, the marquise,
with the general, entered the room, and Laura followed in a few
moments.
The supper that night was a pleasant one to all save me. The rest
were gay and high-spirited. Allusions, understood by them but not by
me, were caught up readily, and as quickly responded to. Toasts were
uttered, and wishes breathed in concert, but all was like a dream to
me. Indeed my heart grew*heavier at every moment. My coming departure,
of which I had not yet spoken, lay drearily on my mind, while the bold
decision with which Laura declared her faith showed that our destinies
were separated by an impassable barrier.
It may be supposed that my depression was not relieved by
discovering that the general had already announced my approaching
departure, and the news, far from being received with anything like
regret, was made the theme of pleasant allusion, and even
congratulation. The marquise repeatedly assured me of the delight the
tidings gave her, and Laura smiled happily towards me, as if echoing
the sentiment.
Was this the feeling I had counted on? were these the evidences of
an affection for which I had given my whole heart? Oh, how bitterly I
reviled the frivolous ingratitude of woman! how heavily I condemned
their heartless, unfeeling nature! In a few days, a few hours, perhaps,
I shall be as totally forgotten here as though I had never been, and
yet these are the people who parade their devotion to a fallen
monarchy, and their affection for an exiled house. I tried to arm
myself with every prejudice against Royalism. I thought of Santron and
his selfish, sarcastic spirit. I thought of all the stories I used to
hear of cowardly ingratitude and noble infamy, and tried to persuade
myself that the blandishments of the well born were but the gloss that
covered cruel and unfeeling natures.
For very pride s sake, I tried to assume a manner cool and
unconcerned as their own. I affected to talk of my departure as a
pleasant event, and even hinted at the career that Fortune might
hereafter open to me. In this they seemed to take a deeper interest
than I anticipated, and I could perceive that more than once the
general exchanged looks with the ladies most significantly. I fear I
grew very impatient at last. I grieve to think that I fancied a hundred
annoyances that were never intended for me, and, when we arose to take
leave, I made my adieux with a cold and stately reserve, intended to be
strongly impressive and cut them to the quick.
I heard very little of what the general said as we ascended the
cliff. I was out of temper with him, and myself, and all the world; and
it was only when he recalled my attention to the fact, for the third or
fourth time, that I learned how very kindly he meant by me in the
matter of my liberation; for while he had forwarded all my papers to
Vienna, he was quite willing to set me at liberty on the following day,
in the perfect assurance that my exchange would be confirmed.
'You will thus have a full fortnight at your own disposal, Tiernay,'
said he, 'since the official answer cannot arrive from Vienna before
that time, and you need not report yourself in Paris for eight or ten
days after.'
Here was a boon now thrown away! For my part, I would a thousand
times rather have lingered on at Kuffstein than have been free to
travel Europe from one end to the other. My outraged pride, however,
put this out of the question. La Marquise and her niece had both
assumed a manner of sincere gratification, and I was resolved not to be
behindhand in my show of joy. I ought to have known it, said I again
and again. I ought to have known it. These antiquated notions of birth
and blood can never co-exist with any generous sentiment. These
remnants of a worn-out monarchy can never forgive the vigorous energy
that has dethroned their decrepitude. I did not dare to speculate on
what a girl Laura might have been under other auspices; how nobly her
ambition would have soared; what high-souled patriotism she could have
felt; how gloriously she would have adorned the society of a
regenerated nation. I thought of her as she was, and could have hated
myself for the devotion with which my heart regarded her.
I never closed my eyes the entire night. I lay down and walked about
alternately, my mind in a perfect fever of conflict. Pride, a false
pride, but not the less strong for that, alone sustained me. The
general had announced to me that I was free. Be it so; I will no longer
be a burden on his hospitality. La Marquise hears the tidings with
pleasure. Agreed, then, we part without regret. Very valorous
resolutions they were, but come to, I must own, with a very sinking
heart and a very craven spirit.
Instead of my full uniform, that morning, I put on half dress,
showing that I was ready for the road; a sign, I had hoped, would have
spoken unutterable things to La Marquise and Laura.
Immediately after breakfast, I set out for the cottage. All the way,
as I went, I was drilling myself for the interview by assuming a tone
of the coolest and easiest indifference. They shall have no triumph
over me in this respect, muttered I. Let us see if I cannot be as
unconcerned as they are! To such a pitch had I carried my zeal for
flippancy, that I resolved to ask them whether they had no commission I
could execute for them in Paris or elsewhere. The idea struck me as
excellent, so indicative of perfect self-possession and command. I am
sure I must have rehearsed our interview at least a dozen times,
supplying all the stately grandeur of the old lady and all the quiet
placitude of Laura.
By the time I reached the village I was quite strong in my part, and
as I crossed the Platz I was eager to begin it. This energetic spirit,
however, began to waver a little as I entered the lawn before the
cottage, and a most uncomfortable throbbing at my side made me stand
for a moment in the porch before I entered. I used always to make my
appearance unannounced, but now I felt that it would be more dignified
and distant were I to summon a servant, and yet I could find none. The
household was on a very simple scale, and in all likelihood the labours
of the field or the garden were now employing them. I hesitated what to
do, and after looking in vain around the cour and the
stable-yard, I turned into the garden to seek for some one.
I had not proceeded many paces along a little alley, flanked by two
close hedges of yew, when I heard voices, and at the same instant my
own name uttered.
'You told him to use caution, Laura; that we know little of this
Tiernay beyond his own narrative'
'I told him the very reverse, aunt. I said that he was the son of a
loyal Garde du Corps, left an orphan in infancy, and thrown by force
of events into the service of the Republic; but that every sentiment he
expressed, every ambition he cherished, and every feeling he displayed,
was that of a gentleman; nay, further' But
I did not wait for more, for, striking my sabre heavily on the
ground to announce my coming, I walked hurriedly forward towards a
small arbour where the ladies were seated at breakfast.
I need not stop to say how completely all my resolves were routed by
the few words I had overheard from Laura, nor how thoroughly I recanted
all my expressions concerning her. So full was I of joy and gratitude,
that I hastened to salute her before ever noticing the marquise, or
being conscious of her presence.
The old lady, usually the most exacting of all beings, took my
omission in good part, and most politely made room for me between
herself and Laura at the breakfast-table.
'You have come most opportunely, Monsieur de Tiernay,' said she;
'for not only were we just speaking of you, but discussing whether or
not we might ask of you a favour.'
'Does the question admit of a discussion, madame?' said I, bowing.
'Perhaps not, in ordinary circumstances, perhaps not; but-' she
hesitated, seemed confused, and looked at Laura, who went on'My aunt
would say, sir, that we may be possibly asking too muchthat we may
presume too far.'
'Not on my will to serve you,' I broke in, for her looks said much
more than her words.
'The matter is this, sir,' said the aunt: 'we have a very valued
relative'
'Friend,' interposed Laura, 'friend, aunt.'
'We will say friend, then,' resumed she; 'a friend in whose welfare
we are deeply interested, and whose regard for us is not less powerful,
has been for some years back separated from us by the force of those
unhappy circumstances which have made so many of us exiles! No means
have existed of communicating with each other, nor of interchanging
those hopes or fears for our country's welfare which are so near to
every French heart! He is in Germany, we are in the wild Tyrol,
one-half the world apart, and dare not trust to a correspondence the
utterance of those sympathies which have brought so many to the
scaffold!'
'We would ask of you to see him, Monsieur de Tiernay, to know him,'
burst out Laura; 'to tell him all that you can of Franceabove all, of
the sentiments of the army; he is a soldier himself, and will hear you
with pleasure.'
'You may speak freely and frankly,' continued the marquise; 'the
count is man of the world enough to hear the truth even when it gives
pain. Your own career will interest him deeply; heroism has always had
a charm for all his house. This letter will introduce you; and as the
general informs us you have some days at your own disposal, pray give
them to our service in this cause.'
'Willingly, madame,' replied I, 'only let me understand a little
better'
'There is no need to know more,' interrupted Laura; 'the Count de
Marsanne will himself suggest everything of which you will talk. He
will speak of us, perhapsof the Tyrolof Kuffstein; then he will
lead the conversation to Francein fact, once acquainted, you will
follow the dictates of your own fancy.'
'Just so, Monsieur de Tiernay; it will be a visit with as little of
ceremony as possible'
'Aunt!' interrupted Laura, as if recalling the marquise to caution;
and the old lady at once acknowledged the hint by a significant look.
I see it all, thought I De Marsanne is Laura's accepted lover, and I
am the person to be employed as go-between. This was intolerable, and
when the thought first struck me, I was beside myself with passion.
'Are we asking too great a favour, Monsieur de Tiernay?' said the
marquise, whose eyes were fixed upon me during this conflict.
'Of course not, madame,' said I, in an accent of almost sarcastic
tone. 'If I am not wrong in my impressions, the cause might claim a
deeper devotion; but this is a theme I would not wish to enter upon.'
'We are aware of that,' said Laura quickly; 'we are quite prepared
for your reserve, which is perfectly proper and becoming.'
'Your position being one of unusual delicacy,' chimed in the
marquise.
I bowed haughtily and coldly, while the marquise uttered a thousand
expressions of gratitude and regard to me.
'We had hoped to have seen you here a few days longer, monsieur,'
said she, 'but perhaps, under the circumstances, it is better as it
is.'
'Under the circumstances, madame,' repeated I, 'I am bound to agree
with you'; and I turned to say farewell.
'Rather, au revoir, Monsieur de Tiernay,' said the marquise;
'friendship, such as ours, should at least be hopeful; say then au
revoir.'
'Perhaps Monsieur de Tiernay's hopes run not in the same channel as
our own, aunt,' said Laura, 'and perhaps the days of happiness that we
look forward to would bring far different feelings to his heart.'
This was too pointedthis was insupportably offensive I and I was
only able to mutter, 'You are right, mademoiselle'; and then,
addressing myself to the marquise, I made some blundering apologies
about haste and so forth; while I promised to fulfil her commission
faithfully and promptly.
'Shall we not hear from you?' said the old lady, as she gave me her
hand. I was about to say, 'Under the circumstances, better not'; but I
hesitated, and Laura, seeing my confusion, said, 'It might be unfair,
aunt, to expect it; remember how he is placed.'
'Mademoiselle is a miracle of forethought and candour too,' said I.
'Adieu! adieu for ever!' The last word I uttered in a low whisper.
'Adieu, Maurice,' said she, equally low, and then turned away
towards the window.
From that moment until the instant when, out of breath and
exhausted, I halted for a few seconds on the crag below the fortress, I
knew nothing; my brain was in a whirl of mad, conflicting thought.
Every passion was working within me, and rage, jealousy, love, and
revenge were alternately swaying and controlling me. Then, however, as
I looked down for the last time on the village and the cottage beside
the river, my heart softened, and I burst into a torrent of tears.
There, said I, as I arose to resume my way, there! one illusion is
dissipated; let me take care that life never shall renew the
affliction! Henceforth I will be a soldier, and only a soldier.
CHAPTER XL. THE CHATEAU OF ETTENHEIM
I now come to an incident in my life, which, however briefly I may
speak, has left the deepest impression on my memory. I have told the
reader how I left Kuffstein fully satisfied that the Count de Marsanne
was Laura's lover, and that in keeping my promise to see and speak with
him, I was about to furnish an instance of self-denial and fidelity
that nothing in ancient or modern days could compete with.
The letter was addressed, 'The Count Louis de Marsanne, Château
d'Ettenheim, à Baden,' and thither I accordingly repaired, travelling
over the Arlberg to Bregenz, and across the Lake of Constance to
Freyburg; my passport containing a very few words in cipher, which
always sufficed to afford me free transit and every attention from the
authorities. I had left the southern Tyrol in the outburst of a
glorious spring, but as I journeyed northward I found the rivers
frozen, the roads encumbered with snow, and the fields untilled and
dreary-looking. Like all countries which derive their charms from the
elements of rural beauty, foliage and verdure, Germany offers a sad
coloured picture to the traveller in winter or wintry weather.
It was thus, then, that the Grand-Duchy, so celebrated for its
picturesque beauty, struck me as a scene of dreary and desolate
wildness, an impression which continued to increase with every mile I
travelled from the highroad.
A long unbroken flat, intersected here and there by stunted willows,
traversed by a narrow earth road, lay between the Rhine and the Taunus
Mountains, in the midst of which stood the village of 'Ettenheim.'
Outside the village, about half a mile off, and on the border of a vast
pine forest, stood the château.
It was originally a hunting-seat of the Dukes of Baden, but from
neglect, and disuse, gradually fell into ruin, from which it was
reclaimed, imperfectly enough, a year before, and now exhibited some
remnants of its former taste, along with the evidences of a far less
decorative spirit; the lower rooms being arranged as a stable, while
the stair and entrance to the first storey opened from a roomy
coach-house. Here some four or five conveyances of rude construction
were gathered together, splashed and unwashed, as if from recent use;
and at a small stove in a corner was seated a peasant in a blue frock,
smoking as he affected to clean a bridle which he held before him.
Without rising from his seat he saluted me, with true German phlegm,
and gave me the 'Guten Tag,' with all the grave unconcern of a
'Badener.' I asked if the Count de Marsanne lived there. He said yes,
but the 'Graf' was out hunting. When would he be back? By nightfall.
Could I remain there till his return? was my next question; and he
stared at me as I put it, with some surprise. 'Warum nicht?' 'Why not?'
was at last his sententious answer, as he made way for me beside the
stove. I saw at once that my appearance had evidently not entitled me
to any peculiar degree of deference or respect, and that the man
regarded me as his equal. It was true I had come some miles on foot,
and with a knapsack on my shoulder, so that the peasant was fully
warranted in his reception of me. I accordingly seated myself at his
side, and lighting my pipe from his, proceeded to derive all the profit
I could from drawing him into conversation. I might have spared myself
the trouble. Whether the source lay in stupidity or sharpness, he
evaded me on every point. Not a single particle of information could I
obtain about the count, his habits, or his history. He would not even
tell me how long he had resided there, nor whence he had come. He liked
hunting, and so did the other 'Herren.' There was the whole I could
scan; and to the simple fact that there were others with him, did I
find myself limited.
Curious to see something of the count's 'interior,' I hinted to my
companion that I had come on purpose to visit his master, and suggested
the propriety of my awaiting his arrival in a more suitable place; but
he turned a deaf ear to the hint, and dryly remarked that the 'Graf
would not be long a-coming now.' This prediction was, however, not to
be verified; the dreary hours of the dull day stole heavily on, and
although I tried to beguile the time by lounging about the place, the
cold ungenial weather drove me back to the stove, or to the dark
precinct of the stable, tenanted by three coarse ponies of the mountain
breed.
One of these was the Grafs favourite, the peasant told me; and
indeed here he showed some disposition to become communicative,
narrating various gifts and qualities of the unseemly looking animal,
which, in his eyes, was a paragon of horse-flesh. 'He could travel from
here to Kehl and back in a day, and has often done it,' was one meed of
praise that he bestowed; a fact which impressed me more as regarded the
rider than the beast, and set my curiosity at work to think why any man
should undertake a journey of nigh seventy miles between two such
places and with such speed. The problem served to occupy me till dark,
and I know not how long after. A stormy night of rain and wind set in,
and the peasant, having bedded and foraged his cattle, lighted a
rickety old lantern and began to prepare for bed; for such I at last
saw was the meaning of a long crib, like a coffin, half filled with
straw and sheep-skins. A coarse loaf of black bread, some black forest
cheese, and a flask of Kleinthaler, a most candid imitation of vinegar,
made their appearance from a cupboard, and I did not disdain to partake
of these delicacies.
My host showed no disposition to become more communicative over his
wine, and, indeed, the liquor might have excused any degree of reserve;
and no sooner was our meal over than, drawing a great woollen cap half
over his face, he rolled himself up in his sheep-skins, and betook
himself to sleep, if not with a good conscience, at least with a sturdy
volition that served just as well.
Occasionally snatching a short slumber, or walking to and fro in the
roomy chamber, I passed several hours, when the splashing sound of
horses' feet, advancing up the miry road, attracted me. Several times
before that I had been deceived by noises which turned out to be the
effects of storm, but now, as I listened, I thought I could hear
voices. I opened the door, but all was dark outside; it was the inky
hour before daybreak, when all is wrapped in deepest gloom. The rain,
too, was sweeping along the ground in torrents. The sounds came nearer
every instant, and, at last, a deep voice shouted out, 'Jacob.' Before
I could awaken the sleeping peasant, to whom I judged this summons was
addressed, a horseman dashed up to the door and rode in; another as
quickly followed him, and closed the door.
'Parbleu! D'Egville,' said the first who entered, 'we have
got a rare peppering!'
'Even so,' said the other, as he shook his hat, and threw off a
cloak perfectly soaked with rain; 'à la guerre comme à la guerre.'
This was said in French, when, turning towards me, the former said
in German, 'Be active, Master Jacob; these nags have had a smart ride
of it.' Then, suddenly, as the light flashed full on my features, he
started back, and said, 'How is thiswho are you?'
A very brief explanation answered this somewhat un-courteous
question, and, at the same time, I placed the marquise's letter in his
hand, saying, 'The Count de Marsanne, I presume.'
He took it hastily, and drew nigh to the lantern to peruse it. I had
now full time to observe him, and saw that he was a tall and well-built
man, of about seven or eight-and-twenty. His features were remarkably
handsome, and although slightly flushed by his late exertion, were as
calm and composed as might be; a short black moustache gave his
upper-lip a slight character of 'scorn, but the brow, open, frank and
good-tempered in its expression, redeemed this amply. He had not read
many lines when, turning about, he apologised in the most courteous
terms for the manner of my reception. He had been on a shooting
excursion for a few days back, and taken all his people with him, save
the peasant, who looked after the cattle. Then, introducing me to his
friend, whom he called Count d'Egville, he led the way upstairs.
It would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast to the dark and
dreary coach-house than the comfortable suite of apartments which we
now traversed on our way to a large, well-furnished room, where a table
was laid for supper, and a huge wood fire blazed brightly on the
hearth. A valet, of most respectful manner, received the count's orders
to prepare a room for me, after which my host and his friend retired to
change their clothes.
Although D'Egville was many years older, and of a graver, sterner
fashion than the other, I could detect a degree of deference and
respect in his manner towards him, which De Marsanne accepted like one
well accustomed to receive it. It was a time, however, when, in the
wreck of fortune, so many men lived in a position of mere dependence,
that I thought nothing of this, nor had I even the time, as Count de
Marsanne entered. From my own preconceived notions as to his being
Laura's lover, I was quite prepared to answer a hundred impatient
inquiries about the marquise and her niece, and as we were now alone, I
judged that he would deem the time a favourable one to talk of them.
What was my surprise, however, when he turned the conversation
exclusively to the topic of my own journey, the route I had travelled.
He knew the country perfectly, and spoke of the various towns and their
inhabitants with acuteness and tact.
His Royalist leanings did not, like those of the marquise, debar him
from feeling a strong interest respecting the success of the Republican
troops, with whose leaders he was thoroughly acquainted, knowing all
their peculiar excellences and defaults as though he had lived in
intimacy with them. Of Bonaparte's genius he was the most enraptured
admirer, and would not hear of any comparison between him and the other
great captains of the day. D'Egville at last made his appearance, and
we sat down to an excellent supper, enlivened by the conversation of
our host, who, whatever the theme, talked well and pleasingly.
I was in a mood to look for flaws in his charactermy jealousy was
still urging me to seek for whatever I could find fault with; and yet
all my critical shrewdness could only detect a slight degree of pride
in his manner, not displaying itself by any presumption, but by a
certain urbanity that smacked of condescension. But even this at last
went off, and before I wished him good-night I felt that I had never
met any one so gifted with agreeable qualities, nor possessed of such
captivating manners, as himself. Even his Royalism had its
fascinations, for it was eminently national, and showed at every moment
that he was far more of a Frenchman than a Monarchist. We parted
without one word of allusion to the marquise or to Laura! Had this
singular fact any influence upon the favourable impression I had
conceived of him, or was I unconsciously grateful for the relief thus
given to all my jealous tormentings? Certain is it that I felt
infinitely happier than I ever fancied I should be under his roof, and,
as I lay down in my bed, thanked my stars that he was not my rival!
When I awoke the next morning it was some minutes before I could
remember where I was; and as I still lay, gradually recalling myself to
memory, the valet entered to announce the count.
'I have come to say adieu for a few hours,' said he; a very pressing
appointment requires me to be at Pforzheim to-day, and I have to ask
that you will excuse my absence. I know that I may take this liberty
without any appearance of rudeness, for the marquise has told me all
about you. Pray, then, try and amuse yourself till evening, and we
shall meet at supper.'
I was not sorry that D'Egville was to accompany him, and, turning on
my side, dozed off to sleep away some of the gloomy hours of a winter's
day.
In this manner several days were passed, the count absenting himself
each morning, and returning at nightfall, sometimes accompanied by
D'Egville, sometimes alone. It was evident enough, from the appearance
of his horses at his return, as well as from his own jaded looks, that
he had ridden hard and far; but except a chance allusion to the state
of the roads or the weather, it was a topic to which he never referred,
nor, of course, did I ever advert. Meanwhile our intimacy grew closer
and franker. The theme of politics, a forbidden subject between men so
separated, was constantly discussed between us, and I could not help
feeling flattered at the deference with which he listened to opinions
from one so much his junior, and so inferior in knowledge as myself.
Nothing could be more moderate than his views of government, only
provided that it was administered by the rightful sovereign. The claim
of a king to his throne he declared to be the foundation of all the
rights of property, and which, if once shaken or disputed, would
inevitably lead to the wildest theories of democratic equality. 'I
don't want to convert you,' would he say laughingly; 'the son of an old
Garde da Corps, the born gentleman, has but to live to learn. It may
come a little later or a little earlier, but you'll end as a good
Monarchist.'
One evening he was unusually late in returning, and when he came was
accompanied by seven or eight companions, some younger, some older,
than himself, but all men whose air and bearing bespoke their rank in
life, while their names recalled the thoughts of old French chivalry. I
remember among them was a Coigny, a Gramont, and Rochefoucauldthe
last as lively a specimen of Parisian wit and brilliancy as ever
fluttered along the sunny Boulevards.
De Marsanne, while endeavouring to enjoy himself and entertain his
guests, was, to my thinking, more serious than usual, and seemed
impatient at D'Egville's absence, for whose coming we now waited
supper.
'I should not wonder if he was lost in the deep mud of those
cross-roads,' said Coigny.
'Or perhaps he has fallen into the Republic,' said Rochefoucauld;
'it's the only thing dirtier that I know of.'
'Monsieur forgets that I wear its cloth,' said I, in a low whisper
to him; and low as it was, De Marsanne overheard it.
'Yes, Charles,' cried he, 'you must apologise, and on the spot, for
the rudeness.'
Rochefoucauld reddened and hesitated.
'I insist, sir,' cried De Marsanne, with a tone of superiority I had
never seen him assume before.
'Perhaps,' said he, with a half-sneer, 'Monsieur de Tiernay might
refuse to accept my excuses.'
'In that case, sir,' interposed De Marsanne, 'the quarrel will
become mine, for he is my guest, and lives here under the safeguard of
my honour.'
Rochefoucauld bowed submissively, and with the air of a man severely
but justly rebuked; and then advancing to me said, 'I beg to tender you
my apology, monsieur, for an expression which should never have been
uttered by me in your presence.'
'Quite sufficient, sir,' said I, bowing, and anxious to conclude a
scene which for the first time had disturbed the harmony of our
meetings. Slight as was the incident, its effects were yet visible in
the disconcerted looks of the party, and I could see that more than one
glance was directed towards me with an expression of coldness and
distrust.
'Here comes D'Egville at last,' said one, throwing open the window
to listen. The night was starlit, but dark, and the air calm and
motionless. 'I certainly heard a horses tread on the causeway.'
'I hear distinctly the sound of several,' cried Coigny; 'and, if I
mistake not much, so does Monsieur de Tiernay.' This sudden allusion
turned every eye towards me, as I stood still, suffering from the
confusion of the late scene.
'Yes; I hear the tramp of horses, and cavalry too, I should say, by
their measured tread.'
'There was a trumpet-call!' cried Coigny; 'what does that mean?'
'It is the signal to take open order,' said I, answering as if the
question were addressed to myself. 'It is a picket taking a
reconnaissance.'
'How do you know that, sir?' said Gramont sternly.
'Ay! how does he know that?' cried several passionately, as they
closed around me.
'You must ask in another tone, messieurs,' said I calmly, 'if you
expect to be answered.'
'They mean to say, how do you happen to know the German
trumpet-calls, Tiernay,' said De Marsanne mildly, as he laid his hand
on my arm.
'It's a French signal,' said I; 'I ought to know it well.'
Before my words were well uttered the door was thrown open, and
D'Egville burst into the room, pale as death, his clothes all
mud-stained and disordered. Making his way through the others, he
whispered a few words in De Marsanne's ear.
'Impossible!' cried the other; 'we are here in the territory of the
Margrave.'
'It is as I say,' replied D'Egville; 'there's not a second to
loseit may be too late even nowby Heavens it is!they've drawn a
cordon round the château.'
'What's to be done, gentlemen?' said De Marsanne, seating himself
calmly, and crossing his arms on his breast.
'What do you say, sir?' cried Gramont, advancing to me with an air
of insolent menace; 'you, at least, ought to know the way out of this
difficulty.'
'Or, by Heaven, his own road shall be one of the shortest,
considering the length of the journey,' muttered another; and I could
hear the sharp click of a pistol-cock as he spoke the words.
'This is unworthy of you, gentlemen, and of me,' said De Marsanne
haughtily; and he gazed around him with a look that seemed to abash
them; 'nor is it a time to hold such disputation. There is another and
a very difficult call to answer. Are we agreed?' Before he could finish
the sentence the door was burst open, and several dragoons in French
uniforms entered, and ranged themselves across the entrance, while a
colonel, with his sabre drawn, advanced in front of them.
'This is brigandage,' cried De Marsanne passionately, as he drew his
sword, and seemed meditating a spring through them; but he was
immediately surrounded by his friends and disarmed. Indeed nothing
could be more hopeless than resistance; more than double our number
were already in the room, while the hoarse murmur of voices without,
and the tramp of heavy feet, announced a strong party.
At a signal from their officers the dragoons unslung their carbines,
and held them at the cock, when the colonel called out, 'Which of you,
messieurs, is the Due d'Enghien?'
'If you come to arrest him,' replied De Marsanne, * you ought to
have his description in your warrant.'
'Is the descendant of a Condé ashamed to own his name?' asked the
colonel, with a sneer. 'But we 'll make short work of it, sirs; I
arrest you all My orders are peremptory, messieurs. If you resist, or
attempt to escape' and he made a significant sign with his hand to
finish. The 'Duc'-for I need no longer call him De Marsannenever
spoke a word, but with folded arms calmly walked forward, followed by
his little household. As we descended the stairs, we found ourselves in
the midst of about thirty dismounted dragoons, all on the alert, and
prepared for any resistance. The remainder of a squadron were on
horseback without. With a file of soldiers on either hand, we marched
for about a quarter of a mile across the fields to a small mill, where
a general officer and his staff seemed awaiting our arrival. Here, too,
a picket of gendarmes was stationeda character of force significant
enough of the meaning of the enterprise. We were hurriedly marched into
the court of the mill, the owner of which stood between two soldiers,
trembling from head to foot with terror.
'Which is the Duc d'Enghien?' asked the colonel of the miller.
'That is he with the scarlet vest'; and the prince nodded an assent.
'Your age, monsieur?' asked the colonel of the prince.
'Thirty-twothat is, I should have been so much in August, were it
not for this visit,' said he, smiling.
The colonel wrote on rapidly for a few minutes, and then showed the
paper to the general, who briefly said, 'Yes, yes; this does not
concern you nor me.'
'I wish to ask, sir,' said the prince, addressing the general, 'do
you make this arrest with the consent of the authorities of this
country, or do you do so in defiance of them?'
'You must reserve questions like that for the court who will judge
you, Monsieur de Condé,' said the officer roughly. 'If you wish for any
articles of dress from your quarters, you had better think of them. My
orders are to convey you to Strasbourg. Is there anything so singular
in the fact, sir, that you should look so much astonished?'
'There is, indeed,' said the prince sorrowfully. 'I shall be the
first of my house who ever crossed that frontier a prisoner.'
'But not the first who carried arms against his country,' rejoined
the othera taunt the duke only replied to by a look of infinite scorn
and contempt. With a speed that told plainly the character of the
expedition, we were now placed, two together, on country cars, and
driven at a rapid pace towards Strasbourg. Relays of cattle awaited us
on the road, and we never halted but for a few minutes during the
entire journey. My companion on this dreary day was the Baron de St.
Jacques, the aide-de-camp to the duke; but he never spoke once; indeed
he scarcely lifted his head during the whole journey.
Heaven knows it was a melancholy journey; and neither the country
nor the season were such as to lift the mind from sorrow; and yet,
strange enough, the miles glided over rapidly, and to this hour I
cannot remember by what magic the way seemed so short. The thought that
for several days back I had been living in closest intimacy with a
distinguished prince of the Bourbon family; that we had spent hours
together discussing themes and questions which were those of his own
house, canvassing the chances and weighing the claims of which he was
himself the asserterwas a most exciting feeling. How I recalled now
all the modest deference of his mannerhis patient endurance of my
crude opinionshis generous admissions regarding his adversariesand,
above all, his ardent devotion to France, whatever the hand that swayed
her destinies; and then the chivalrous boldness of his character,
blended with an almost girlish gentleness-how princely were such
traits!
From these thoughts I wandered on to others about his arrest and
capture, from which, however, I could not believe any serious issue was
to come. Bonaparte is too noble-minded not to feel the value of such a
life as this. Men like the prince can be more heavily fettered by
generous treatment than by all the chains that ever bound a felon. But
what will be done with him? what with his followers? and lastly, not at
all the pleasantest consideration, what is to come of Maurice Tiernay,
who, to say the least, has been found in very suspicious company, and
without a shadow of an explanation to account for it? This last thought
just occurred to me as we crossed over the long bridge of boats, and
entered Strasbourg.
CHAPTER XLI. AN 'ORDINARY'
ACQUAINTANCE
The Duc d'Enghien and his aide-de-camp were forwarded with the
utmost speed to Paris; the remainder of us were imprisoned at
Strasbourg. What became of my companions I know not; but I was sent on,
along with a number of others, about a month later, to Nancy, to be
tried by a military commission. I may mention it here as a singular
fact illustrating the secrecy of the period, that it was not till long
after this time I learned the terrible fate of the poor Prince de
Condé. Had I known it, it is more than probable that I should have
utterly despaired of my own safety. The dreadful story of
Vincennesthe mock trial, and the midnight execution, are all too well
known to my readers; nor is it necessary I should refer to an event on
which I myself can throw no new light.
That the sentence was determined on before his arrestand that the
grave was dug while the victim was still sleeping the last slumber
before 'the sleep that knows not waking'the evidences are strong and
undeniable. But an anecdote which circulated at the time, and which, so
far as I know, has never appeared in print, would seem to show that
there was complicity, at least, in the crime, and that the secret was
not confined to the First Consul's breast.
On that fatal night of the 20th March, Talleyrand was seated at a
card-table at Caulaincourt's house at Paris. The party was about to
rise from play, when suddenly the 'pendule' on the chimney-piece struck
two. It was in one of those accidental pauses in the conversation when
any sound is heard with unusual distinctness. Talleyrand started as he
heard it, and then turning to Caulaincourt, whispered, 'Yes; 'tis all
over now!'words which, accidentally overheard, without significance,
were yet to convey a terrible meaning when the dreadful secret of that
night was disclosed.
If the whole of Europe was convulsed by the enormity of this
crimethe foulest that stains the name of Bonapartethe Parisians
soon forgot it in the deeper interest of the great event that was now
approachingthe assumption of the Imperial title by Napoleon.
The excitement on this theme was so great and absorbing, that
nothing else was spoken or thought of. Private sorrows and afflictions
were disregarded and despised, and to obtrude one's hardships on the
notice of others, seemed, at this juncture, a most ineffable
selfishness. That I, a prisoner, friendless and unknown as I was, found
none to sympathise with me, or take interest in my fate, is, therefore,
nothing extraordinary. In fact, I appeared to have been entirely
forgotten; and though still in durance, nothing was said either of the
charge to be preferred against me, nor the time when I should be
brought to trial.
Giacourt, an old lieutenant of the marines, and at that time
Deputy-Governor of the Temple, was kind and good-natured towards me,
occasionally telling of the events which were happening without, and
giving me the hope that some general amnesty would, in all likelihood,
liberate all those whose crimes were not beyond the reach of mercy. The
little cell I occupied (and to Giacourt's kindness I owed the sole
possession of it) looked out upon the tall battlements of the outer
walls, which excluded all view beyond, and thus drove me within myself
for occupation and employment. In this emergency, I set about to write
some notices of my lifesome brief memoirs of those changeful fortunes
which had accompanied me from boyhood. Many of those incidents which I
relate now, and many of those traits of mind or temper that I recall,
were then for the first time noted down, and thus graven on my memory.
My early boyhood, my first experience as a soldier, the campaign of
the 'Schwarzwald,' Ireland, and Genoa, all were mentioned; and writing
as I did solely for myself, and my own eyes, I set down many criticisms
on the generals, and their plans of campaign, which, if intended for
the inspection of others, would have been the greatest presumption and
impertinence. And in this way Moreau, Hoche, Massëna, and even
Bonaparte, came in for a most candid and impartial criticism.
How Germany might have been conquered; how Ireland ought to have
been invaded; in what way Italy should have been treated; and lastly,
the grand political error of the seizure of the Duc d'Enghien, were
subjects that I discussed and determined with consummate boldness and
self-satisfaction. I am almost overwhelmed with shame, even now, as I
think of that absurd chronicle, with its rash judgments, its crude
opinions, and its pretentious decisions.
So fascinated had I become with my task, that I rose early to resume
it each morning, and used to fall asleep cogitating on the themes for
the next day, and revolving within myself all the passages of interest
I should commemorate. A man must have known imprisonment to feel all
the value that can be attached to any object, no matter how mean or
insignificant, that can employ the thoughts, amuse the fancy, or engage
the affections. The narrow cell expands under such magic, the barred
casement is a free portal to the glorious sun and the free air; the
captive himself is but the student bending over his allotted task. To
this happy frame of mind had I come, without a thought or a wish beyond
the narrow walls at either side of me, when a sad disaster befell me.
On awaking one morning, as usual, to resume my labour, my manuscript
was gone! the table and writing materials, all had disappeared, and, to
increase my discomfiture, the turnkey informed me that Lieutenant
Giacourt had been removed from his post, and sent off to some inferior
station in the provinces.
I will not advert to the dreary time which followed this misfortune,
a time in which the hours passed on unmeasured and almost unfelt.
Without speculation, without a wish, I passed my days in a stupid
indolence akin to torpor. Had the prison doors been open, I doubt if I
should have had the energy to make my escape. Life itself ceased to
have any value for me, but somehow I did not desire death. I was in
this miserable mood when the turnkey awoke me one day as I was dozing
on my bed. 'Get up, and prepare yourself to receive a visitor,' said
he. 'There's an officer of the staff without, come to see you'; and as
he spoke, a young, slightly formed man, entered, in the uniform of a
captain, who, making a sign for the turnkey to withdraw, took his seat
at my bedside.
'Don't get up, monsieur; you look ill and weak, so pray let me not
disturb you,' said he, in a voice of kindly meaning.
'I'm not ill,' said I, with an effortbut my hollow utterance and
my sunken cheeks contradicted my words; 'but I have been sleeping; I
usually doze at this hour.'
'The best thing a man can do in prison, I suppose,' said he, smiling
good-naturedly.
'No, not the best,' said I, catching up his words too literally. 'I
used to write the whole day long, till they carried away my paper and
my pens.'
'It is just of that very thing I have come to speak, sir,' resumed
he. 'You intended that memoir for publication?'
'No; never.'
'Then for private perusal among a circle of friends?'
'Just as little. I scarcely know three people in the world who would
acknowledge that title.'
'You had an object, however, in composing it?'
'Yes; to occupy thought; to save me fromfrom'
I hesitated, for I was ashamed of the confession that nearly burst
from me, and, after a pause, I said, 'from being such as I now am!'
'You wrote it for yourself alone, then?'
'Yes.'
'Unprompted; without any suggestion from another?'
'Is it here,' said I, looking around my cell, 'is it here that I
should be likely to find a fellow-labourer?'
'No; but I mean to ask, were the sentiments your own, without any
external influence, or any persuasions from others?'
'Quite my own.'
'And the narrative is true?'
'Strictly so, I believe.'
'Even to your meeting with the Due d'Enghien. It was purely
accidental?'
'That is, I never knew him to be the duke till the moment of his
arrest.'
'Just so; you thought he was merely a Royalist noble. Then, why did
you not address a memoir to that effect to the Minister?'
'I thought it would be useless; when they made so little of a Condé,
what right had I to suppose they would think much about me?'
'If he could have proved his innocence' He stopped, and then in
an altered voice said'But as to this memoir; you assume considerable
airs of military knowledge in it, and many of the opinions smack of
heads older than yours.'
'They are, I repeat, my own altogether; as to their presumption, I
have already told you they were intended solely for my own eye.'
'So that you are not a Royalist?'
'No,'
'Never were one?'
'Never.'
'In what way would you employ yourself if set at liberty to-day?'
I stared, and felt confused; for however easy I found it to refer to
the past, and reason on it, any speculation as to the future was a
considerable difficulty.
'You hesitate; you have not yet made up your mind, apparently.'
'It is not that; I am trying to think of liberty, trying to fancy
myself freebut I cannot!' said I, with a weary sigh. 'The air of this
cell has sapped my courage and my energya little more will finish the
ruin!'
'And yet you are not much above four or five-and-twenty years of
age?'
'Not yet twenty!' said I.
'Come, come, Tiernaythis is too early to be sick of life!' said
he, and the kind tone touched me so that I burst into tears. They were
bitter tears, too; for while my heart was relieved by this gush of
feeling, I was ashamed at my own weakness. 'Come, I say,' continued he,
'this memoir of yours might have done you much mischiefhappily it has
not done so. Give me the permission to throw it in the fire, and,
instead of it, address a respectful petition to the head of the state,
setting forth your services, and stating the casualty by which you were
implicated in Royalism. I will take care that it meets his eye, and, if
possible, will support its prayer. Above all, ask for reinstalment in
your grade, and a return to the service. It may be, perhaps, that you
can mention some superior officer who would vouch for your future
conduct.'
'Except Colonel Mahon'
'Not the Colonel Mahon who commanded the 13th Cuirassiers?'
'The same.'
'That name would little serve you,' said he coldly: 'he has been
placed en retraite some time back; and if your character can
call no other witness than him, your case is not too favourable.' He
saw that the speech had disconcerted me, and soon added, 'Never
mindkeep to the memoir; state your case, and your apology, and leave
the rest to Fortune. When can you let me have it?'
'By to-morrowto-night, if necessary.'
'To-morrow will do well, and so good-bye. I will order them to
supply you with writing materials'; and slapping me good-naturedly on
the shoulder, he cried, 'Courage, my lad!' and departed.
Before I lay down to sleep that night, I completed my 'memoir,' the
great difficulty of which I found to consist in giving it that dry
brevity which I knew Bonaparte would require. In this, however, I
believe I succeeded at last, making the entire document not to occupy
one sheet of paper. The officer had left his card of address, which I
found was inscribed Monsieur Bourrienne, Rue Lafitte, a name that
subsequently was to be well known to the world.
I directed my manuscript to his care, and lay down with a lighter
heart than I had known for many a day. I will not weary my reader with
the tormenting vacillations of hope and fear which followed. Day after
day went over, and no answer came to me. I addressed two notes,
respectful, but urgent, begging for some information as to my
demandnone came. A month passed thus, when, one morning, the governor
of the Temple entered my room, with an open letter in his hand.
'This is an order for your liberation, Monsieur de Tiernay,' said
he; 'you are free.'
'Am I reinstated in my grade?' asked I eagerly.
He shook his head, and said nothing.
'Is there no mention of my restoration to the service?'
'None, sir.'
'Then what is to become of meto what end am I liberated?' cried I
passionately.
'Paris is a great citythere is a wide world beyond it; and a man
so young as you are must have few resources, or he will carve out a
good career for himself.'
'Say, rather, he must have few resentments, sir,' cried I bitterly,
'or he will easily hit upon a bad one'; and with this, I packed up the
few articles I possessed, and prepared to depart.
I remember it well: it was between two and three o'clock of the
afternoon, on a bright day in spring, that I stood on the Quai
Voltaire, a very small packet of clothes in a bundle in one hand, and a
cane in the other, something short of three louis in my purse, and as
much depression in my heart as ever settled down in that of a youth not
full nineteen. Liberty is a glorious thing, and mine had been perilled
often enough to give me a hearty appreciation of its blessing; but at
that moment, as I stood friendless and companionless in a great
thoroughfare of a great city, I almost wished myself back again within
the dreary walls of the Temple, for somehow it felt like home! It is
true, one must have had a lonely lot in life before he could surround
the cell of a prison with such attributes as these. Perhaps I have more
of the catlike affection for a particular spot than most men; but I do
find that I attach myself to walls with a tenacity that strengthens as
I grow older, and, like my brother parasite, the ivy, my grasp becomes
more rigid the longer I cling.
If I know of few merely sensual gratifications higher than a lounge
through Paris, at the flood-tide of its population, watching the varied
hues and complexions of its strange inhabitants, displaying, as they
do, in feature, air, and gesture, so much more of character and purpose
than other people, so also do I feel that there is something
indescribably miserable in being alone, unknown, and unnoticed in that
vast throng, destitute of means for the present, and devoid of hope for
the future.
Some were bent on business, some on pleasure; some were evidently
bent on killing time till the hour of more agreeable occupation should
arrive; some were loitering along, gazing at the prints in
shop-windows, or half listlessly stopping to read at book-stalls. There
was not only every condition of mankind, from wealth to mendicancy, but
every frame of mind, from enjoyment to utter ennui, and yet I thought I
could not hit upon any one individual who looked as forlorn and
cast-away as myself; however, there were many who passed me that day
who would gladly have changed fortune with me, but it would have been
difficult to persuade me of the fact in the mood I then was.
At the time I speak of, there was a species of cheap ordinary held
in the open air on the quay, where people of the humblest condition
used to dine. I need scarcely describe the farethe reader may
conceive what it was, which, wine included, cost only four sous. A rude
table without a cloth, some wooden platters, and an iron rail to which
the knives and forks were chained, formed the 'equipage,' the cookery
bearing a due relation to the elegance of these accessories. As for the
company, if not polite, it was certainly picturesqueconsisting of
labourers of the lowest class, the sweepers of crossings,
hackney-cabmen out of employ, that poorest of the poor who try to earn
a livelihood by dragging the Seine for lost articles, and finally, the
motley race of idlers who vacillate between beggary and ballad-singing,
with now and then a dash at highway robbery for a 'distraction'; a
class, be it said without paradox, which in Paris includes a
considerable number of tolerably honest folk.
The moment was the eventful one in which France was about once more
to become a monarchy, and as may be inferred from the character of the
people, it was a time of high excitement and enthusiasm. The nation,
even in its humblest citizen, seemed to feel some of the reflected
glory that glanced from the great achievements of Bonaparte, and his
elevation was little other than a grand manifestation of national
self-esteem. That he knew how to profit by this sentiment, and
incorporate his own with the country's glory, so that they seemed to be
inseparable, is not among the lowest nor the least of the efforts of
his genius.
The paroxysm of national vanity, for it was indeed no less, imparted
a peculiar character to the period. A vainglorious, boastful spirit was
abroad; men met each other with high-sounding gratulations about French
greatness and splendour, the sway we wielded over the rest of Europe,
and the influence with which we impressed our views over the entire
globe.
Since the fall of the monarchy there had been half-a-dozen national
fevers! There was the great Fraternal and Equality one; there was the
era of classical associations, with all their train of trumpery
affectation in dress and manner. Then came the conquering spirit, with
the flattering spectacle of great armies; and now, as if to complete
the cycle, there grew up that exaggerated conception of 'France and her
Mission,' an unlucky phrase that has since done plenty of mischief,
which seemed to carry the nation into the seventh heaven of overweening
self-love.
If I advert to this here, it is but passingly, neither stopping to
examine its causes, nor seeking to inquire the consequences that ensued
from it, but, as it were, chronicling the fact as it impressed me as I
stood that day on the Quai Voltaire, perhaps the only unimpassioned
lounger along its crowded thoroughfare.
Not even the ordinary 'à quatre sous' claimed exemption from this
sentiment. It might be supposed that meagre diet and sour wine were but
sorry provocatives to national enthusiasm, but even they could minister
to the epidemic ardour, and the humble dishes of that frugal board
masqueraded under titles that served to feed popular vanity. Of this I
was made suddenly aware as I stood looking over the parapet into the
river, and heard the rude voices of the labourers as they called for
cutlets à la Caire, potatoes en Mamelouques, or roast
beef à la Monte-Notte, while every goblet of their wine was
tossed off to some proud sentiment of national supremacy.
Amused by the scene, so novel in all its bearings, I took my place
at the table, not sorry for the excuse to myself for partaking so
humble a repast.
'Sacrebleu!' cried a rough-looking fellow with a red nightcap
set on one side of the head, 'make room there, we have the
aristocrates, coming down among us.'
'Monsieur is heartily welcome,' said another, making room for me;
'we are only flattered by such proofs of confidence and esteem.'
'Ay, parbleu! cried a third. 'The Empire is coming, and we
shall be well bred and well mannered. I intend to give up the river,
and take to some more gentlemanlike trade than dredging for dead men.'
'And I, I'll never sharpen anything under a rapier or a dress sword
for the Court,' said a knife-grinder; 'we have been living like
canaille hithertonothing better.'
'À l'Empire, à l'Empire!' shouted half-a-dozen voices in concert;
and the glasses were drained to the toast with a loud cheer.
Directly opposite to me sat a thin, pale, mild-looking man, of about
fifty, in a kind of stuff robe, like the dress of a village curate. His
appearance, though palpably poor, was venerable and imposingnot the
less so, perhaps, from its contrast with the faces and gestures at
either side of him. Once or twice, while these ebullitions of
enthusiasm burst forth, his eyes met mine, and I read, or fancied that
I read, a look of kindred appreciation in their mild and gentle glance.
The expression was less reproachful than compassionate, as though in
pity for the ignorance rather than in reprobation for the folly. Now,
strangely enough, this was precisely the very sentiment of my own heart
at that moment. I remembered a somewhat similar enthusiasm for
republican liberty, by men just as unfitted to enjoy it; and I thought
to myself, the Empire, like the Convention, or the Directory, is a mere
fabulous conception to these poor fellows, who, whatever may be the
régime, will still be hewers of wood and drawers of water to the end of
all time.
As I was pondering over this, I felt something touch my arm, and, on
turning, perceived that my opposite neighbour had now seated himself at
my side, and, in a low, soft voice, was bidding me 'Good-day.' After
one or two commonplace remarks upon the weather and the scene, he
seemed to feel that some apology for his presence in such a place was
needful, for he said
'You are here, monsieur, from a feeling of curiosity, that I see
well enough; but I come for a very different reason. I am the pastor of
a mountain village of the Ardèche, and have come to Paris in search of
a young girl, the daughter of one of my flock, who, it is feared, has
been carried off, by some evil influence, from her home and her
friends, to seek fortune and fame in this rich capital; for she is
singularly beautiful, and gifted too; sings divinely, and improvises
poetry with a genius that seems inspiration.'
There was a degree of enthusiasm, blended with simplicity, in the
poor cure's admiration of his 'lost sheep' that touched me deeply. He
had been now three weeks in vain pursuit, and was at last about to turn
homeward, discomfited and unsuccessful. 'Lisette' was the very soul of
the little hamlet, and he knew not how life was to be carried on there
without her. The old loved her as a daughter; the young were rivals for
her regard.
'And to me,' said the père, 'whom, in all the solitude of my lonely
lot, literature and especially poetry, consoles many an hour of sadness
or melancholyto me, she was like a good angel, her presence diffusing
light as she crossed my humble threshold, and elevating my thoughts
above the little crosses and accidents of daily life.'
So interested had I become in this tale, that I listened while he
told every circumstance of the little locality; and walking along at
his side, I wandered out of the city, still hearing of 'La Marche,' as
the village was called, till I knew the ford where the blacksmith
lived, and the miller with the cross wife, and the lame schoolmaster,
and Pierre the postmaster, who read out the Moniteur each
evening under the elms, even to Jacques Fulgeron the 'Tapageur,' who
had served at Jemappes, and, with his wounded hand and his waxed
moustache, was the terror of all peaceable folk.
'You should come and see us, my dear monsieur,' said he to me, as I
showed some more than common interest in the narrative. 'You, who seem
to study character, would find something better worth the notice than
these hardened natures of city life. Come, and spend a week or two with
me, and if you do not like our people and their ways, I am but a sorry
physiognomist.'
It is needless to say that I was much flattered by this kind proof
of confidence and good-will; and finally it was agreed upon between us
that I should aid him in his search for three days, after which, if
still unsuccessful, we should set out together for La Marche. It was
easy to see that the poor curé was pleased at my partnership in the
task, for there were several public places of resorttheatres,
'spectacles,' and the liketo which he scrupled to resort, and these
he now willingly conceded to my inspection, having previously given me
so accurate a description of La Lisette, that I fancied I should
recognise her amongst a thousand. If her long black eyelashes did not
betray her, her beautiful teeth were sure to do so; or, if I heard her
voice, there could be no doubt then; and, lastly, her foot would as
infallibly identify her as did Cinderella's.
For want of better, it was agreed upon that we should make the
'Restaurant à Quatre Sous' our rendezvous each day, to exchange our
confidences and report progress. It will scarcely be believed how even
this much of a pursuit diverted my mind from its own dark dreamings,
and how eagerly my thoughts pursued the new track that was opened to
them. It was the utter listlessness, the nothingness of my life, that
was weighing me down; and already I saw an escape from this in the
pursuit of a good object. I could wager that the pastor of La Marche
never thought so intensely, so uninterruptedly, of Lisette as did I for
the four-and-twenty hours that followed! It was not only that I had
created her image to suit my fancy, but I had invented a whole
narrative of her life and adventures since her arrival in Paris.
My firm conviction being that it was lost time to seek for her in
obscure and out-of-the-way quarters of the city, I thought it best to
pursue the search in the thronged and fashionable resorts of the gay
world, the assemblies and theatres. Strong in this conviction, I
changed one of my three gold pieces to purchase a ticket for the opera.
The reader may smile at the sacrifice; but when he who thinks four sous
enough for a dinner, pays twelve francs for the liberty to be crushed
in the crowded parterre of a playhouse, he is indeed buying pleasure at
a costly price. It was something more than a fifth of all I possessed
in the world, but, after all, my chief regret arose from thinking that
it left me so few remaining 'throws of the dice' for 'Fortune.'
I have often reflected since that day by what a mere accident I was
present, and yet the spectacle was one that I have never forgotten. It
was the last time the First Consul appeared in public, before his
assumption of the Imperial title; and at no period through all his
great career was the enthusiasm more impassioned regarding him. He sat
in the box adjoining the stageCambacérès and Lebrun, with a crowd of
others, standing and not sitting, around and behind his chair. When he
appeared, the whole theatre rose to greet him, and three several times
was he obliged to rise and acknowledge the salutations. And with what a
stately condescension did he make these slight acknowledgments!what
haughtiness was there in the glance he threw around him! I have often
heard it said, and I have seen it also written, that previous to his
assumption of the crown, Bonaparte's manner exhibited the mean arts and
subtle devices of a candidate on the hustings, dispensing all the
flatteries and scattering all the promises that such occasions are so
prolific of. I cannot, of course, pretend to contradict this statement
positively; but I can record the impression which that scene made upon
me, as decidedly the opposite of this assumption. I have repeatedly
seen him since that event, but never do I remember his calm, cold
features more impassively stern, more proudly collected, than on that
night.
Every allusion of the piece that could apply to him was eagerly
caught up. Not a phrase nor a chance word that could compliment, was
passed over in silence; and if greatness and glory were accorded, as if
by an instinctive reverence, the vast assemblage turned towards him, to
lay their homage at his feet. I watched him narrowly, and could see
that he received them all as his rightful tribute, the earnest of the
debt the nation owed him. Among the incidents of that night, I remember
one which actually for the moment convulsed the house with its
enthusiasm. One of the officers of his suite had somehow stumbled
against Bonaparte's hat, which, on entering, he had thrown carelessly
beside his chair. Stooping down and lifting it up, he perceived to whom
it belonged, and then, remarking the mark of a bullet on the edge, he
showed it significantly to a general near him. Slight and trivial as
was the incident, it was instantly caught up by the parterre. A low
murmur ran quickly around; and then a sudden cheer burst forth, for
some one remembered it was the anniversary of Marengo! And now the
excitement became madness, and reiterated shouts proclaimed that the
glory of that day was among the proudest memories of France. For once,
and once only, did any trait of feeling show itself on that impassive
face. I thought I could mark even a faint tinge of colour in that
sallow cheek, as in recognition he bowed a dignified salute to the
waving and agitated assembly.
I saw that proud face, at moments when human ambition might have
seemed to have reached its limit, and yet never with a haughtier look
than on that night I speak of. His foot was already on the first step
of the throne, and his spirit seemed to swell with the conscious force
of coming greatness.
And Lisette, all this time? Alas, I had totally forgotten her! As
the enthusiasm around me began to subside, I had time to recover
myself, and look about me. There was much beauty and splendour to
admire. Madame Junot was there, and Mademoiselle de Bessières, with a
crowd of others less known, but scarcely less lovely. Not one, however,
could I see that corresponded with my mind-drawn portrait of the
peasant beauty; and I scanned each face closely and critically. There
was female loveliness of every type, from the dark-eyed beauty of
Spanish race, to the almost divine regularity of a Raphaelite picture.
There was the brilliant aspect of fashion, too; but nowhere could I see
what I sought for; nowhere detect that image which imagination had
stamped as that of the beauty of 'La Marche.' If disappointed in my
great object, I left the theatre with my mind full of all I had
witnessed. The dreadful event of Ettenheim had terribly shaken
Bonaparte in my esteem; yet how resist the contagious devotion of a
whole nationhow remain cold in the midst of the burning zeal of all
France? These thoughts brought me to the consideration of myself. Was
I, or was I not, any longer a soldier of his army? or was I
disqualified for joining in that burst of national enthusiasm which
proclaimed that all France was ready to march under his banner?
To-morrow I 'll wait upon the Minister of War, thought I, or I'll seek
out the commanding officer of some regiment that I know, or at least a
comrade; and so I went on, endeavouring to frame a plan for my
guidance, as I strolled along the streets, which were now almost
deserted. The shops were all closed; of the hotels, such as were yet
open were far too costly for means like mine; and so, as the night was
calm and balmy with the fresh air of spring, I resolved to pass it out
of doors. I loitered then along the Champs-Elysées; and at length
stretching myself on the grass beneath the trees, lay down to sleep.
'An odd bedroom enough,' thought I, 'for one who has passed the evening
at the opera, and who has feasted his ears at the expense of his
stomach.' I remembered, too, another night when the sky had been my
canopy in Paris, when I slept beneath the shadow of the guillotine and
the Place de Grève. 'Well,' thought I, 'times are at least changed for
the better since that day; and my own fortunes are certainly not
lower.'
This comforting reflection closed my waking memories, and I slept
soundly till morning.
CHAPTER XLII. THE 'COUNT DE
MAUREPAS,' ALIAS
There is a wide gulf between him who opens his waking eyes in a
splendid chamber, and with half-drowsy thoughts speculates on the
pleasures of the coming day, and him, who, rising from the
dew-moistened earth, stretches his aching limbs for a second or so, and
then hurries away to make his toilet at the nearest fountain.
I have known both conditions, and yet, without being thought
paradoxical, I would wish to say that there are some sensations
attendant on the latter and the humbler lot which I would not exchange
for all the voluptuous ease of the former. Let there be but youth, and
there is something of heroism, something adventurous in the notion of
thus alone and unaided breasting the wide ocean of life, and, like a
hardy swimmer, daring to stem the roughest breakers without one to
succour him, that is worth all the security that even wealth can
impart, all the conscious ease that luxury and affluence can supply. In
a world and an age like ours, thought I, there must surely be some
course for one young, active and daring as I am. Even if France reject
me, there are countries beyond the seas where energy and determination
will open a path. 'Courage, Maurice,' said I, as I dashed the sparkling
water over my head, 'the past has not been all inglorious, and the
future may prove even better.'
A roll and a glass of iced water furnished my breakfast, after which
I set forth in good earnest on my search. There was a sort of
self-flattery in the thought that one so destitute as I was could
devote his thoughts and energies to the service of another, that
pleased me greatly. It was so 'unselfish'at least I thought so. Alas
and alas! how egotistical are we when we fancy ourselves least so. That
day I visited St. Roch and Notre Dame at early mass, and by noon
reached the Louvre, the gallery of which occupied me till the hour of
meeting the curé drew nigh.
Punctual to his appointment, I found him waiting for me at the
corner of the quay, and although disappointed at the failure of all his
efforts, he talked away with all the energy of one who would not suffer
himself to be cast down by adverse fortune. 'I feel,' said he, 'a kind
of instinctive conviction that we shall find her yet. There is
something tells me that all our pains shall not go unrewarded. Have you
never experienced a sensation of this kind,a species of inward
prompting to pursue a road, to penetrate into a pass, or to explore a
way, without exactly knowing why or wherefore?'
This question, vague enough as it seemed, led me to talk about
myself and my own position; a theme which, however much I might have
shrunk from introducing, when once opened, I spoke of in all the
freedom of old friendship.
Nothing could be more delicate than the priest's manner during all
this time; nor even when his curiosity was highest did he permit
himself to ask a question or an explanation of any difficulty that
occurred; and while he followed my recital with a degree of interest
that was most flattering, he never ventured on a word or dropped a
remark that might seem to urge me to greater frankness. 'Do you know,'
said he, at last, 'why your story has taken such an uncommon hold upon
my attention? It is not from its adventurous character, nor from the
stirring and strange scenes you have passed through; it is because your
old pastor and guide, the Père Delamoy, was my own dearest friend, my
school companion and playfellow from infancy. We were both students at
Louvain together; both called to the priesthood on the same day. Think,
then, of my intense delight at hearing his dear name once moreay, and
permit me to say it, hearing from the lips of another the very precepts
and maxims that I can recognise as his own. Ah, yes! mon cher
Maurice,' cried he, grasping my hand in a burst of enthusiasm,
'disguise it how you may, cover it up under the uniform of a Bleu,
bury it beneath the shako of the soldier of the Republic, but the head
and the heart will turn to the ancient altars of the Church and the
Monarchy. It is not alone that your good blood suggests this, but all
your experience of life goes to prove it. Think of poor Michel,
self-devoted, generous, and noble-hearted; think of that dear cottage
at Kuffstein, where, even in poverty, the dignity of birth and blood
threw a grace and an elegance over daily life; think of Ettenheim and
the glorious princethe last Condéand who now sleeps in his narrow
bed in the fosse of Vincennes!'
'How do you mean?' said I eagerly; for up to this time I knew
nothing of his fate.
'Come along with me, and you shall know it all,' said he; and,
rising, he took my arm, and we sauntered along out of the crowded
street, till we reached the Boulevards. He then narrated to me every
incident of the midnight trial, the sentence, and the execution. From
the death-warrant that came down ready filled from Paris, to the grave
dug while the victim was yet sleepinghe forgot nothing; and I own
that my very blood ran cold at the terrible atrocity of that dark
murder. It was already growing dusk when he had finished, and we parted
hurriedly, as he was obliged to be at a distant quarter of Paris by
eight o'clock, again agreeing to meet, as before, on the Quai Voltaire.
From that moment till we met the following day, the Duc d'Enghien
was never out of my thoughts, and I was impatient for the priest's
presence that I might tell him every little incident of our daily life
at Ettenheim, the topics we used to discuss, and the opinions he
expressed on various subjects. The eagerness of the curé to listen
stimulated me to talk on, and I not only narrated all that I was myself
a witness of, but various other circumstances which were told to me by
the prince himself; in particular, an incident he mentioned to me one
day of being visited by a stranger who came, introduced by a letter
from a very valued friend; his business being to propose to the duke a
scheme for the assassination of Bonaparte. At first the prince
suspected the whole as a plot against himself, but on further
questioning he discovered that the man's intentions were really such as
he professed them, and offered his services in the conviction that no
price could be deemed too high to reward him. It is needless to say
that the offer was rejected with indignation, and the prince dismissed
the fellow with the threat of delivering him up to the Government of
the First Consul. The pastor heard this anecdote with deep attention,
and, for the first time, diverging from his line of cautious reserve,
he asked me various questions as to when the occurrence had taken
place, and whereif the prince had communicated the circumstance to
any other than myself, and whether he had made it the subject of any
correspondence. I knew little more than I had already told him: that
the offer was made while residing at Ettenheim, and during the
preceding year, were facts, however, that I could remember.
'You are surprised, perhaps,' said he, 'at the interest I feel in
all this; but, strangely enough, there is here in Paris at this moment
one of the great 'Seigneurs' of the Ardèche; he has come up to the
capital for medical advice, and he was a great, perhaps the greatest
friend of the poor duke. What if you were to come and pay him a visit
with me, there is not probably one favour the whole world could bestow
he would value so highly. You must often have heard his name from the
prince; has he not frequently spoken of the Count de Maurepas?' I could
not remember having ever heard the name. 'It is historical, however,'
said the curé, 'and even in our own days has not derogated from its
ancient chivalry. Have you not heard how a noble of the Court rode
postillion to the king's carriage on the celebrated escape from
Varennes? Well, even for curiosity's sake, he is worth a visit, for
this is the very Count Henri de Maurepas, now on the verge of the
grave!'
If the good curé had known me all my life, he could not more
successfully have baited a trap for my curiosity. To see and know
remarkable people, men who had done something out of the ordinary route
of everyday life, had been a passion with me from boyhood. Hero-worship
was, indeed, a great feature in my character, and has more or less
influenced all my career, nor was I insensible to the pleasure of doing
a kind action. It was rare, indeed, that one so humbly placed could
ever confer a favour, and I grasped with eagerness the occasion to do
so. We agreed, then, on the next afternoon, towards nightfall, to meet
at the quay, and proceed together to the count's residence. I have
often reflected, since that day, that Lisette's name was scarcely ever
mentioned by either of us during this interview; and yet, at the time,
so preoccupied were my thoughts, I never noticed the omission. The
Château of Ettenheim, and its tragic story, filled my mind to the
exclusion of all else.
I pass over the long and dreary hours that intervened, and come at
once to the time, a little after sunset, when we met at our accustomed
rendezvous.
The curé had provided a fiacre for the occasion, as the
count's residence was about two leagues from the city, on the way to
Belleville. As we trotted along, he gave me a most interesting account
of the old noble, whose life had been one continued act of devotion to
the monarchy.
'It will be difficult,' said he, 'for you to connect the poor,
worn-out, shattered wreck before you, with all that was daring in deed
and chivalrous in sentiment; but the Maurepas were well upheld in all
their glorious renown, by him who is now to be the last of the race!
You will see him reduced by suffering and sickness, scarcely able to
speak, but be assured that you will have his gratitude for this act of
true benevolence. Thus chatting we rattled along over the paved
highway, and at length entered upon a deep clay road which conducted us
to a spacious park, with a long straight avenue of trees, at the end of
which stood what, even in the uncertain light, appeared a spacious
château. The door lay open, and as we descended, a servant in plain
clothes received us, and, after a whispered word or two from the curé,
ushered us along through a suite of rooms into a large chamber
furnished like a study. There were hook-shelves well filled, and a
writing-table covered with papers and letters, and the whole floor was
littered with newspapers and journals.
A lamp, shaded by a deep gauze cover, threw a half-light over
everything, nor was it until we had been nearly a couple of minutes in
the room that we became aware of the presence of the count, who lay
upon a sofa, covered up in a fur pelisse, although the season was far
advanced in spring.
His gentle 'Good-evening, messieurs,' was the first warning we had
of his presence, and the curé, advancing respectfully, presented me as
his young friend, Monsieur de Tiernay.
'It is not for the first time that I hear that name,' said the sick
man, with a voice of singular sweetness. 'It is chronicled in the
annals of our monarchy. Ay, sir, I knew that faithful servant of his
king, who followed his master to the scaffold.'
'My father?' cried I eagerly.
'I knew him well,' continued he; 'I may say, without vaunting, that
I had it in my power to befriend him, too. He made an imprudent
marriage; he was unfortunate in the society his second wife's family
threw him amongst. They were not his equals in birth, and far beneath
him in sentiment and principle. Well, well,' sighed he, 'this is not a
theme for me to speak of, nor for you to hear; tell me of yourself. The
curé says that you have had more than your share of worldly
vicissitudes. There, sit down, and let me hear your story from your own
lips.'
He pointed to a seat at his side, and I obeyed him at once; for,
somehow, there was an air of command even in the gentlest tones of his
voice, and I felt that his age and his sufferings were not the only
claims he possessed to influence those around him.
With all the brevity in my power, my story lasted till above an
hour, during which time the count only interrupted me once or twice by
asking to which Colonel Mahon I referred, as there were two of the
name; and again by inquiring to what circumstances the émigré
family were living as to means, and whether they appeared to derive any
of their resources from France. These were points I could give no
information upon, and I plainly perceived that the count had no
patience for a conjecture, and that, where positive knowledge failed,
he instantly passed on to something else. When I came to speak of
Ettenheim his attention became fixed, not suffering the minutest
circumstance to escape him, and even asking for the exact description
of the locality, and its distance from the towns in the neighbourhood.
The daily journeys of the prince, too, interested him much, and once
or twice he made me repeat what the peasant had said of the horse being
able to travel from Strasbourg without a halt. I vow it puzzled me why
he should dwell on these points in preference to others of far more
interest, but I set them down to the caprices of illness, and thought
no more of them. His daily life, his conversation, the opinions he
expressed about France, the questions he used to ask, were all matters
he inquired into, till, finally, we came to the anecdote of the
meditated assassination of Bonaparte. This he made me tell him twice
over, each time asking me eagerly whether, by an effort of memory, I
could not recall the name of the man who had offered his services for
the deed. This I could not; indeed I knew not if I had ever heard it.
'But the prince rejected the proposal?' said he, peering at me
beneath the dark shadow of his heavy brow; 'he would not hear of it?'
'Of course not,' cried I; 'he even threatened to denounce the man to
the Government.'
'And do you think that he would have gone thus far, sir?' asked he
slowly.
'I am certain of it. The horror and disgust he expressed when
reciting the story were a guarantee for what he would have done.'
'But yet Bonaparte has been a dreadful enemy to his race.' said the
count.
'It is not a Condé can right himself by a murder,' said I, as
calmly.
'How I like that burst of generous Royalism, young man!' said he,
grasping my hand and shaking it warmly. 'That steadfast faith in the
honour of a Bourbon is the very heart and soul of loyalty!'
Now, although I was not, so far as I knew of, anything of a
Royalistthe cause had neither my sympathy nor my wishesI did not
choose to disturb the equanimity of a poor sick man by a needless
disclaimer, nor induce a discussion which must be both unprofitable and
painful.
'How did the fellow propose the act? had he any accomplices? or was
he alone?'
'I believe quite alone.'
'Of course suborned by England? Of that there can be no doubt.'
'The prince never said so.'
'Well, but it is clear enough, the man must have had means; he
travelled by a very circuitous route; he had come from Hamburg
probably?'
'I never heard.'
'He must have done so. The ports of Holland, as those of France,
would have been too dangerous for him. Italy is out of the question.'
I owned that I had not speculated so deeply in the matter.
'It was strange,' said he, after a pause, 'that the duke never
mentioned who had introduced the man to him.'
'He merely called him a valued friend.'
'In other words, the Count d'Artois,' said the count; 'did it not
strike you so?'
I had to confess it had not occurred to me to think so.
'But reflect a little,' said he. 'Is there any other living who
could have dared to make such a proposal but the count? Who, but the
head of his house, could have presumed on such a step? No inferior
could have had the audacity! It must have come from one so highly
placed that crime paled itself down to a mere measure of expediency
under the loftiness of the sanction. What think you?'
'I cannot, I will not think so,' was my answer. 'The very
indignation of the prince's rejection refutes the supposition.'
'What a glorious gift is unsuspectfulness!' said he feelingly. 'I am
a rich man, and you I believe are not so; and yet, I'd give all the
wealth, ay, ten times told, not for your vigour of health, not for the
lightness of your heart, nor the elasticity of your spirits, but for
that one small quality, defect though it be, that makes you trustful
and credulous.'
I believe I would just as soon that the old gentleman had thought
fit to compliment me upon any other quality. Of all my acquisitions
there was not one I was so vain of as my knowledge of life and
character. I had seen, as I thought, so much of life I I had peeped at
all ranks and conditions of men, and it was rather hard to find an old
country gentleman, a Seigneur de Village, calling me credulous
and unsuspecting!
I was much more pleased when he told the cure that a supper was
ready for us in the adjoining room, at which he begged we would excuse
his absence; and truly a most admirable little meal it was, and served
with great elegance.
'The count expects you to stop here; there is a chamber prepared for
you,' said the curé as we took our seats at table. 'He has evidently
taken a fancy to you. I thought, indeed I was quite certain, he would.
Who can tell what good fortune this chance meeting may lead to,
Monsieur Maurice! À votre santé, mon cher!' cried he, as he
clinked his champagne glass against mine; and I at last began to think
that destiny was about to smile on me.
'You should see his château in the Ardèche; this is nothing to it!
There is a forest, too, of native oak, and a chasse such as
royalty never owned!'
Mine were delightful dreams that night; but I was sorely
disappointed on waking to find that Laura was not riding at my side
through a forest-alley, while a crowd of piqueurs and huntsmen
galloped to and fro, making the air vibrate with their joyous bugles.
Still, I opened my eyes in a richly furnished chamber, while a lackey
handed me my coffee on a silver stand, and in a cup of costliest
Sèvres.
CHAPTER XLIII. A FOREST RIDE
While I was dressing, a note was handed to me from the curé,
apologising for his departure without seeing me, and begging, as a
great favour, that I would not leave the château till his return. He
said that the count's spirits had benefited greatly by our agreeable
converse, and that he requested me to be his guest for some time to
come. The postscript added a suggestion that I should write down some
of the particulars of my visit to Ettenheim, but particularly of that
conversation alluding to the meditated assassination of Bonaparte.
There were many points in the arrangement which I did not like. To
begin, I had no fancy whatever for the condition of a dependant, and
such my poverty would at once stamp me. Secondly, I was averse to this
frequent intercourse with men of the Royalist party, whose restless
character and unceasing schemes were opposed to all the principles of
those I had served under; and finally, I was growing impatient under
the listless vacuity of a life that gave no occupation, nor opened any
view for the future. I sat down to breakfast in a mood very little in
unison with the material enjoyments around me. The meal was all that
could tempt appetite; and the view from the open window displayed a
beautiful flower-garden, imperceptibly fading away into a maze of
ornamental planting, which was backed again by a deep forest, the
well-known wood of Belleville. Still I ate on sullenly, scarce noticing
any of the objects around me. I will see the count, and take leave of
him, thought I suddenly; I cannot be his guest without sacrificing
feeling in a dozen ways.
'At what hour does monsieur rise?' asked I of the obsequious valet
who waited behind my chair.
'Usually at three or four in the afternoon, sir; but to-day he has
desired me to make his excuses to you. There will be a consultation of
doctors here; and the likelihood is, that he may not leave his
chamber.'
'Will you convey my respectful compliments, then, to him, and my
regrets that I had not seen him before leaving the château?'
'The count charged me, sir, to entreat your remaining here till he
had seen you. He said you had done him infinite service already; and
indeed it is long since he has passed a night in such tranquillity.'
There are few slight circumstances which impress a stranger more
favourably than any semblance of devotion on the part of a servant to
his master. The friendship of those above one in life is easier to
acquire than the attachment of those beneath. Love is a plant whose
tendrils strive ever upwards. I could not help feeling struck at the
man's manner as he spoke these few words; and insensibly my mind
reverted to the master who had inspired such sentiments.
'My master gave orders, sir,' continued he, 'that we should do
everything possible to contribute to your wishes; that the carriage,
or, if you prefer them, saddle-horses, should be ready at any hour you
ordered. The wood has a variety of beautiful excursions; there is a
lake, too, about two leagues away; and the ruins of Monterraye are also
worth seeing.'
'If I had not engagements in Paris,' muttered I, while I affected to
mumble over the conclusion of the sentence to myself.
'Monsieur has seldom done a greater kindness than this will be,'
added he respectfully; 'but if monsieur's business could be deferred
for a day or two, without inconvenience-'
'Perhaps that might be managed,' said I, starting up, and walking to
the window, when, for the first time, the glorious prospect revealed
itself before me. How delicious, after all, would be a few hours of
such a retreat!a morning loitered away in that beautiful garden, and
then a long ramble through the dark wood till sunset. Oh, if Laura were
but here! if she could be my companion along those leafy alleys! If not
with, I can at least think of her, thought Iseek out spots she would
love to linger in, and points of view she would enjoy with all a
painter's zest. And this poor count, with all his riches, could not
derive in a whole lifetime the enjoyment that a few brief hours would
yield to us! So is it almost ever in this world: to one man the
appliances, to another the faculties for enjoyment.
'I am so glad monsieur has consented,' said the valet joyously.
'Did I say so? I don't know that I said anything.'
'The count will be so gratified,' added he, and hurried away to
convey the tidings.
Well, be it so. Heaven knows my business in Paris will scarcely
suffer by my absence, my chief occupation there being to cheat away the
hours till meal-time. It is an occupation I can easily resume a few
days hence. I took a book, and strolled out into the garden; but I
could not read. There is a gush of pleasure felt at times from the most
familiar objects, which the most complicated machinery of enjoyment
often fails to equal; and now the odour of moss-roses and geraniums,
the rich perfume of orange-flowers, the plash of fountains and the hum
of the summer insects, steeped my mind in delight; and I lay there in a
dream of bliss that was like enchantment. I suppose I must have fallen
asleep, for my thoughts took every form of wildness and incoherency.
Ireland; the campaign; the Bay of Genoa; the rugged height of
Kuff-stein, all passed before my mind, peopled with images foreign to
all their incidents. It was late in the afternoon that I aroused
myself, and remembered where I was. The shadows of the dark forest were
stretching over the plain, and I determined on a ride beneath their
mellow shade. As if in anticipation of my wishes, the horses were
already saddled, and a groom stood awaiting my orders. Oh, what a
glorious thing it is to be rich! thought I, as I mounted; from what an
eminence does the wealthy man view life! No petty cares nor
calculations mar the conceptions of his fancy. His will, like his
imagination, wanders free and unfettered. And so thinking, I dashed
spurs into my horse, and plunged into the dense wood. Perhaps I was
better mounted than the groom, or perhaps the man was scarcely
accustomed to such impetuosity. Whatever the reason, I was soon out of
sight of him. The trackless grass of the alley, and its noiseless turf,
made pursuit difficult in a spot where the paths crossed and recrossed
in a hundred different directions; and so I rode on for miles and miles
without seeing more of my follower.
Forest riding is particularly seductive; you are insensibly led on
to see where this alley will open, or how that path will terminate.
Some of the spirit of discovery seems to seal its attractions to the
wild and devious track, untrodden as it looks; and you feel all the
charm of adventure as you advance. The silence, too, is most striking;
the noiseless footfall of the horse, and the unbroken stillness, add
indescribable charm to the scene, and the least imaginative cannot fail
to weave fancies and fictions as he goes.
Near as it was to a great city, not a single rider crossed my path;
not even a peasant did I meet. A stray bundle of faggots, bound and
ready to be carried away, showed that the axe of the woodman had been
heard within the solitude; but not another trace told that human
footstep had ever pressed the sward.
Although still a couple of hours from sunset, the shade of the wood
was dense enough to make the path appear uncertain, and I was obliged
to ride more cautiously than before. I had thought that by steadily
pursuing one straight track, I should at last gain the open country,
and easily find some road that would reconduct me to the château; but
now I saw no signs of this. 'The alley' was, to all appearance, exactly
as I found itmiles before. A long aisle of beech-trees stretched away
in front and behind me; a short, grassy turf was beneath my feet, and
not an object to tell me how far I had come, or whither I was tending.
If now and then another road crossed the path, it was in all respects
like this one. This was puzzling; and to add to my difficulty, I
suddenly remembered that I had never thought of learning the name of
the château, and well knew that to ask for it as the residence of the
Count de Maurepas would be a perfect absurdity. There was something so
ludicrous in the situation, that I could not refrain from laughing at
first; but a moment's reconsideration made me regard the incident more
gravely. In what a position should I stand, if unable to discover the
château! The curé might have left Paris before I could reach it; all
clue to the count might thus be lost; and although these were but
improbable circumstances, they came now very forcibly before me, and
gave me serious uneasiness.
'I have been so often in false positions in life, so frequently
implicated where no real blame could attach to me, that I shall not be
in the least surprised if I be arrested as a horse-stealer!' The night
now began to fall rapidly, so that I was obliged to proceed at a slow
pace; and at length, as the wood seemed to thicken, I was forced to get
off, and walk beside my horse. I have often found myself in situations
of real peril, with far less anxiety than I now felt. My position
seemed at the time inexplicable and absurd. I suppose, thought I, that
no man was ever lost in the wood of Belleville; he must find his way
out of it sooner or later; and then there can be no great difficulty in
returning to Paris. This was about the extent of the comfort I could
afford myself; for, once back in the capital, I could not speculate on
a single step further.
I was at last so weary with the slow and cautious progression I was
condemned to, that I half determined to picket my horse to a tree, and
lie down to sleep till daylight. While I sought out a convenient spot
for my bivouac, a bright twinkling light, like a small star, caught my
eye. Twice it appeared, and vanished again, so that I was well assured
of its being real, and no phantom of my now over-excited brain. It
appeared to proceed from the very densest part of the wood, and
whither, so far as I could see, no path conducted. As I listened to
catch any sounds, I again caught sight of the faint star, which now
seemed at a short distance from the road where I stood. Fastening my
horse to a branch, I advanced directly through the brushwood for about
a hundred yards, when I came to a small open space, in which stood one
of those modest cottages, of rough timber, wherein, at certain seasons,
the gamekeepers take refuge. A low, square, log-hut, with a single door
and an unglazed window, comprised the whole edifice, being one of the
humblest, even of its humble kind, I had ever seen. Stealing cautiously
to the window, I peeped in. On a stone, in the middle of the earthern
floor, a small iron lamp stood, which threw a faint and fickle light
around. There was no furniture of any kindnothing that bespoke the
place as inhabited; and it was only as I continued to gaze that I
detected the figure of a man, who seemed to be sleeping on a heap of
dried leaves in one corner of the hovel. I own that, with all my
anxiety to find a guide, I began to feel some scruples about obtruding
on the sleeper's privacy. He was evidently no garde-chasse, who
are a well-to-do sort of folk, being usually retired sous-officiers
of the army. He might be a poacher, a robber, or perhaps a dash of both
togethera trade I had often heard of as being resorted to by the most
reckless and abandoned of the population of Paris, when their crimes
and their haunts became too well known in the capital.
I peered eagerly through the chamber to see if he were armed; but
not a weapon of any kind was to be seen. I next sought to discover if
he were quite alone; and although one side of the hovel was hidden from
my view, I was well assured that he had no comrade. Come, said I to
myself, man to man, if it should come to a struggle, is fair enough;
and the chances are I shall be able to defend myself.
His sleep was sound and heavy, like that after fatigue; so that I
thought it would be easy for me to enter the hovel, and secure his
arms, if he had such, before he should awake. I may seem to my reader,
all this time, to have been inspired with an undue amount of caution
and prudence, considering how evenly we were matched; but I would
remind him that it was a period when the most dreadful crimes were of
daily occurrence. Not a night went over without some terrible
assassination; and a number of escaped galley-slaves were known to be
at large in the suburbs and outskirts of the capital. These men, under
the slightest provocation, never hesitated at murder; for their lives
were already forfeited, and they scrupled at nothing which offered a
chance of escape. To add to the terror their atrocities excited, there
was a rumour current at the time that the Government itself made use of
these wretches for its own secret acts of vengeance; and many
implicitly believed that the dark assassinations of the Temple had no
other agency. I do not mean to say that these fears were well founded,
or that I myself partook of them; but such were the reports commonly
circulated, and the impunity of crime certainly favoured the
impression. I know not if this will serve as an apology for the
circumspection of my proceeding, as, cautiously pushing the door, inch
by inch, I at length threw it wide open. Not the slightest sound
escaped as I did so; and yet certainly before my hand quitted the
latch, the sleeper had sprung to his knees, and with his dark eyes
glaring wildly at me, crouched like a beast about to rush upon an
enemy.
His attitude and his whole appearance at that moment are yet before
me. Long black hair fell in heavy masses at either side of his head;
his face was pale, haggard, and hunger-stricken; a deep, drooping
moustache descended from below his chin, and almost touched his
collar-bones, which were starting from beneath the skin; a ragged
cloak, that covered him as he lay, had fallen off, and showed that a
worn shirt and a pair of coarse linen trousers were all his clothing.
Such a picture of privation and misery I never looked upon before nor
since.
'Qui va là?' cried he sternly, and with the voice of one not
unused to command; and although the summons showed his
soldier-training, his condition of wretchedness suggested deep
misgivings.
'Qui va là?' shouted he again, louder and more determinedly.
'A friendperhaps a comrade,' said I boldly.
'Advance, comrade, and give the countersign,' replied he rapidly,
and like one repeating a phrase of routine; and then, as if suddenly
remembering himself, he added, with a low sigh, 'There is none!' His
arms dropped heavily as he spoke, and he fell back against the wall,
with his head drooping on his chest.
There was something so unutterably forlorn in his look, as he sat
thus, that all apprehension of personal danger from him left me at the
moment, and advancing frankly, I told him how I had lost my way in the
wood, and by a mere accident chanced to descry his light as I wandered
along in the gloom.
I do not know if he understood me at first, for he gazed half
vacantly at my face while I was speaking, and often stealthily peered
around to see if others were coming, so that I had to repeat more than
once that I was perfectly alone. That the poor fellow was insane seemed
but too probable; the restless activity of his wild eye, the suspicious
watchfulness of his glances, all looked like madness, and I thought
that he had probably made his escape from some military hospital, and
concealed himself within the recesses of the forest. But even these
signs of overwrought excitement began to subside soon; and as though
the momentary effort at vigilance had been too much for his strength,
he now drew his cloak about him, and lay down once more.
I handed him my brandy flask, which still contained a little, and he
raised it to his lips with a slight nod of recognition. Invigorated by
the stimulant, he supped again and again, but always cautiously, and
with prudent reserve.
'You have been a soldier?' said I, taking my seat at his side.
'I am a soldier,' said he, with a strong emphasis on the verb.
'I too have served,' said I; 'although, probably, neither as long
nor as creditably as you have.'
He looked at me fixedly for a second or two, and then dropped his
eyes without a reply.
'You were probably with the army of the Meuse?' said I, hazarding
the guess, from remembering how many of that army had been invalided by
the terrible attacks of ague contracted in North Holland.
'I served on the Rhine,' said he briefly; 'but I made the campaign
of Jemappes, too. I served the king alsoKing Louis,' cried he
sternly. 'Is that avowal candid enough, or do you want more?'
Another Royalist, thought I, with a sigh. Whichever way I turn they
meet methe very ground seems to give them up.
'And could you find no better trade than that of a mouchard?
'asked he sneeringly.
'I am not a mouchardI never was one. I am a soldier like
yourself; and, mayhap, if all were to be told, scarcely a more
fortunate one.'
'Dismissed the serviceand for what?' asked he bluntly.
'If not broke, at least not employed,' said I bitterly.
'A Royalist?'
'Not the least of one, but suspected.'
'Just so. Your lettersyour private papers ransacked, and brought
in evidence against you. Your conversations with your intimates noted
down and attestedevery word you dropped in a moment of disappointment
or anger; every chance phrase you uttered when provokedall quoted;
wasn't that it?'
As he spoke this, with a rapid and almost impetuous utterance, I,
for the first time, noticed that both the expressions and the accent
implied breeding and education. Not all his vehemence could hide the
evidences of former cultivation.
'How comes it,' asked I eagerly, 'that such a man as you are is to
be found thus? You certainly did not always serve in the ranks?'
'I had my grade,' was his short, dry reply.
'You were a quartermasterperhaps a sous-lieutenant?' said I,
hoping by the flattery of the surmise to lead him to talk further.
'I was the colonel of a dragoon regiment,' said he sternly'and
that neither the least brave nor the least distinguished in the French
army.'
Ah! thought I, my good fellow, you have shot your bolt too high this
time; and in a careless, easy way, I asked, 'What might have been the
number of your corps?'
'How can it concern you?' said he, with a savage vehemence. 'You say
that you are not a spy. To what end these questions? As it is, you have
made this hovel, which has been my shelter for some weeks back, no
longer of any service to me. I will not be tracked. I will not suffer
espionage, by Heaven!' cried he, as he dashed his clenched fist against
the ground beside him. His eyes, as he spoke, glared with all the
wildness of insanity, and great drops of sweat hung upon his damp
forehead.
'Is it too much,' continued he, with all the vehemence of passion,
'is it too much that I was master here? Are these walls too luxurious?
Is there the sign of foreign gold in this tasteful furniture and the
splendour of these hangings? Or is this'and he stretched out his lean
and naked arms as he spoke'is this the garbis this the garb of a
man who can draw at will on the coffers of royalty? Ay!' cried he, with
a wild laugh, 'if this is the price of my treachery, the treason might
well be pardoned.'
I did all I could to assuage the violence of his manner. I talked to
him calmly and soberly of myself and of him, repeating over and over
the assurance that I had neither the will nor the way to injure him.
'You may be poor,' said I, 'and yet scarcely poorer than I
amfriendless, and have as many to care for you as I have. Believe me,
comrade, save in the matter of a few years the less on one side, and
some services the more on the other, there is little to chose between
us.'
These few words, wrung from me in sorrowful sincerity, seemed to do
more than all I had said previously, and he moved the lamp a little to
one side that he might have a better view of me as I sat; and thus we
remained for several minutes staring steadfastly at each other, without
a word spoken on either side. It was in vain that I sought in that
face, livid and shrunk by faminein that straggling matted hair, and
that figure enveloped in rags, for any traces of former condition.
Whatever might once have been his place in society, now he seemed the
very lowest of that miserable tribe whose lives are at once the miracle
and shame of our century.
'Except that my senses are always playing me false,' said he, as he
passed his hand across his eyes, 'I could say that I have seen your
face before. What was your corps?'
'The Ninth Hussars, the Tapageurs, as they called them.'
'When did you joinand where?' said he, with an eagerness that
surprised me.
'At Nancy,' said I calmly.
'You were there with the advanced guard of Moreau's corps,' said he
hastily; 'you followed the regiment to the Moselle.'
'How do you know all this?' asked I, in amazement.
'Now for your name; tell me your name,' cried he, grasping my hand
in both of his'and I charge you by all you care for here or
hereafter, no deception with me. It is not a head that has been tried
like mine can bear a cheat.'
'I have no object in deceiving you; nor am I ashamed to say who I
am,' replied I, 'My name is TiernayMaurice Tiernay.'
The word was but out when the poor fellow threw himself forward, and
grasping my hands, fell upon and kissed them.
'So, then, cried he passionately, 'I am not friendlessI am not
utterly deserted in lifeyou are yet left to me, my dear boy!'
This burst of feeling convinced me that he was deranged; and I was
speculating in my mind how best to make my escape from him, when he
pushed back the long and tangled hair from his face, and staring wildly
at me, said, 'You know me nowdon't you? Oh, look again, Maurice, and
do not let me think that I am forgotten by all the world.
'Good heavens!' cried I, 'it is Colonel Mahon!'
'Ay, Le Beau Mahon,' said he, with a burst of wild laughter; 'Le
Beau Mahon, as they used to call me long ago. Is this a reverse of
fortune, I ask you?' and he held out the ragged remnants of his
miserable clothes. 'I have not worn shoes for nigh a month. I have
tasted food but once in the last thirty hours! I, that have led French
soldiers to the charge full fifty times, up to the very batteries of
the enemy, am reduced to hide and skulk from place to place like a
felon, trembling at the clank of a gendarme's boot, as never the
thunder of an enemy's squadron made me. Think of the persecution that
has brought me to this, and made me a beggar and a coward together!'
A gush of tears burst from him at these words, and he sobbed for
several minutes like a child.
Whatever might have been the original source of his misfortunes, I
had very little doubt that now his mind had been shaken by their
influence, and that calamity had deranged him. The flighty uncertainty
of his manner, the incoherent rapidity with which he passed from one
topic to another, increased with his excitement, and he passed
alternately from the wildest expressions of delight at our meeting, to
the most heart-rending descriptions of his own sufferings. By great
patience and some ingenuity, I learned that he had taken refuge in the
wood of Belleville, where the kindness of an old soldier of his own
brigadenow a garde-chassehad saved him from starvation.
Jacques Gaillon was continually alluded to in his narrative. It was
Jacques sheltered him when he came first to Belleville. Jacques had
afforded him a refuge in the different huts of the forest, supplying
him with foodacts not alone of benevolence, but of daring courage, as
Mahon continually asserted. If it were but known, 'they 'd give him a
peloton and eight paces.' The theme of Jacques' heroism was so
engrossing, that he could not turn from it; every little incident of
his kindness, every stratagem of his inventive good-nature, he dwelt
upon with eager delight, and seemed half to forget his own sorrows in
recounting the services of his benefactor. I saw that it would be
fruitless to ask for any account of his past calamity, or by what
series of mischances he had fallen so low. I sawI will own with some
chagrinthat, with the mere selfishness of misfortune, he could not
speak of anything save what bore upon his own daily life, and totally
forgot me and all about me.
The most relentless persecution seemed to follow him from place to
place. Wherever he went, fresh spies started on his track, and the
history of his escapes was unending. The very faggot-cutters of the
forest were in league against him, and the high price offered for his
capture had drawn many into the pursuit. It was curious to mark the
degree of self-importance all these recitals imparted, and how the poor
fellow, starving and almost naked as he was, rose into all the imagined
dignity of martyrdom, as he told of his sorrows. If he ever asked a
question about Paris, it was to know what people said of himself and of
his fortunes. He was thoroughly convinced that Bonaparte's thoughts
were far more occupied about him than on that empire now so nearly in
his grasp, and he continued to repeat with a proud delight, 'He has
caught them all but me! I am the only one who has escaped him!' These
few words suggested to me the impression that Mahon had been engaged in
some plot or conspiracy, but of what nature, how composed, or how
discovered, it was impossible to arrive at.
'There!' said he, at last, 'there is the dawn breaking! I must be
off. I must now make for the thickest part of the wood till nightfall
There are hiding-places there known to none save myself. The
bloodhounds cannot track me where I go.'
His impatience became now extreme. Every instant seemed full of
peril to him nowevery rustling leaf and every waving branch a
warning. I was unable to satisfy myself how far this might be
well-founded terror, or a vague and causeless fear. At one moment I
inclined to thisat another, to the opposite impression. Assuredly
nothing could be more complete than the precautions he took against
discovery. His lamp was concealed in the hollow of a tree; the leaves
that formed his bed he scattered and strewed carelessly on every side;
he erased even the foot-tracks on the clay, and then gathering up his
tattered cloak, prepared to set out.
'When are we to meet again, and where?' said I, grasping his hand.
He stopped suddenly, and passed his hand over his brow, as if
reflecting. 'You must see Caillon; Jacques will tell you all,' said he
solemnly. 'Good-bye. Do not follow me. I will not be tracked'; and with
a proud gesture of his hand he motioned me back.
Poor fellow! I saw that any attempt to reason with him would be in
vain at such a moment; and determining to seek out the garde-chasse, I turned away slowly and sorrowfully.
'What have been my vicissitudes of fortune compared to his?' thought
I. 'The proud colonel of a cavalry regiment, a beggar and an outcast!'
The great puzzle to me was, whether insanity had been the cause or the
consequence of his misfortunes. Caillon will, perhaps, be able to tell
me his story, said I to myself; and thus ruminating, I returned to
where I had picketed my horse three hours before. My old dragoon
experiences had taught me how to 'hobble' a horse, as it is called, by
passing the bridle beneath the counter before tying it, and so I found
him just as I left him.
The sun was now up, and I could see that a wide track led off
through the forest straight before me. I accordingly mounted, and
struck into a sharp canter. About an hour's riding brought me to a
small clearing, in the midst of which stood a neat and picturesque
cottage, over the door of which was painted the words 'Station de
ChasseNo. 4.' In a little garden in front, a man was working in his
shirt sleeves, but his military trousers at once proclaimed him the
garde. He stopped as I came up, and eyed me sharply.
'Is this the road to Belleville?' said I.
'You can go this way, but it takes you two miles of a round,'
replied he, coming closer, and scanning me keenly.
'You can tell me, perhaps, where Jacques Caillon, garde-chaase, is to be found?'
'I am Jacques Caillon, sir,' was the answer, as he saluted in
soldier fashion, while a look of anxiety stole over his face.
'I have something to speak to you about,' said I, dismounting, and
giving him the bridle of my horse. 'Throw him some corn, if you have
got it, and then let us talk together'; and with this I walked into the
garden, and seated myself on a bench.
If Jacques be an old soldier, thought I, the only way is to come the
officer over him; discipline and obedience are never forgotten, and
whatever chances I may have of his confidence will depend on how much I
seem his superior. It appeared as if this conjecture was well founded,
for as Jacques came back, his manner betrayed every sign of respect and
deference. There was an expression of almost fear in his face as, with
his hand to his cap, he asked 'What were my orders?'
The very deference of his air was disconcerting, and so, assuming a
look of easy cordiality, I said
'First, I will ask you to give me something to eat; and secondly, to
give me your company for half an hour.'
Jacques promised both, and learning that I preferred my breakfast in
the open air, proceeded to arrange the table under a blossoming
chestnut-tree.
'Are you quite alone here?' asked I, as he passed back and forward.
'Quite alone, sir; and e |