CHAPTER VI. 'THE ARMY SIXTY YEARS SINCE'
I followed the soldiers as they marched beyond the outer boulevard andgained the open country. Many of the idlers dropped off here; othersaccompanied us a little farther; but at length, when the drums ceasedto beat, and were slung in marching order on the backs of thedrummers, when the men broke into the open order that French soldiersinstinctively assume on a march, the curiosity of the gazers appearedto have nothing more to feed upon, and one by one they returned to thecapital, leaving me the only lingerer.
To any one accustomed to military display, there was little to attractnotice in the column, which consisted of detachments from various corps,horse, foot, and artillery; some were returning to their regiments aftera furlough; some had just issued from the hospitals, and were seated in_charrettes_, or country cars; and others, again, were peasant boys onlya few days before drawn in the conscription. There was every variety ofuniform, and, I may add, of raggedness, too--a coarse blouse and a pairof worn shoes, with a red or blue handkerchief on the head, being thedress of many among them. The Republic was not rich in those days,and cared little for the costume in which her victories were won. Theartillery alone seemed to preserve anything like uniformity in dress.They wore a plain uniform of blue, with long white gaiters cominghalf-way up the thigh; a low cocked-hat, without feather, but with thetricoloured cockade in front. They were mostly men middle aged, or pastthe prime of life, bronzed, weather-beaten, hardy-looking fellows, whosewhite moustaches contrasted well with their sun-burned faces. All theirweapons and equipments were of a superior kind, and showed the carebestowed upon an arm whose efficiency was the first discovery of therepublican generals. The greater number of these were Bretons, andseveral of them had served in the fleet, still bearing in their looksand carriage something of that air which seems inherent in the seaman.They were grave, serious, and almost stern in manner, and very unlikethe young cavalry soldiers, who, mostly recruited from the south ofFrance, many of them Gascons, had all the high-hearted gaiety andreckless levity of their own peculiar land. A campaign to these fellowsseemed a pleasant excursion; they made a jest of everything, from thewan faces of the invalids to the black bread of the commissary; theyquizzed 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 officerscame in for a share of their ridicule. The Grenadiers, however, werethose who especially were made the subject of their sarcasm. They weregenerally from the north of France, and the frontier country towardFlanders, whence they probably imbibed a portion of that phlegm andmoroseness so very unlike the general gaiety of French nature; andwhen assailed by such adversaries, were perfectly incapable of reply orretaliation.
They all belonged to the army of the 'Sambre et Meuse,' which, althoughat the beginning of the campaign highly distinguished for its successes,had been latterly eclipsed by the extraordinary victories on the UpperRhine and in Western Germany; and it was curious to hear with whatintelligence and interest the greater questions of strategy werediscussed by those who carried their packs as common soldiers in theranks. Movements and manoeuvres were criticised, attacked, defended,ridiculed, and condemned, with a degree of acuteness and knowledge thatshowed the enormous progress the nation had made in military science,and with what ease the Republic could recruit her officers from theranks of her soldiers.
At noon the column halted in the wood of Belleville; and while the menwere resting, an express arrived announcing that a fresh body of troopswould soon arrive, and ordering the others to delay their march tillthey came up. The orderly who brought the tidings could only say thathe believed some hurried news had come from Germany, for before he leftParis the rappel was beating in different quarters, and the rumourran that reinforcements were to set out for Strasbourg with the utmostdespatch.
'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 forcertain are coming,' said the orderly, 'and they spoke of a battalion ofgrenadiers.'
'What! do these Germans need another lesson?' said the cannonier. 'Ithought Fleurus had taught them what our troops were made of.'
'How you talk of Fleurus!' interrupted a young hussar of the south. 'Ihave just come from the army of Italy, and, _ma foi!_ we should neverhave mentioned such a battle as Fleurus in a despatch. Campaigningamongst dikes and hedges--fighting with a river on one flank and afortress on t'other--parade manoeuvres--where, at the first check, theenemy retreats, and leaves you free, for the whole afternoon, to writeoff your successes to the Directory. Had you seen our fellows scalingthe Alps, with avalanches of snow descending at every fire of the greatguns--forcing pass after pass against an enemy, posted on every cliffand crag above us--cutting our way to victory by roads the hardiesthunter had seldom trod--I call that war.'
'And I call it the skirmish of an outpost!' said the gruff veteran, ashe smoked away in thorough contempt for the enthusiasm of the other. 'Ihave served under Kleber, Hoche, and Moreau, and I believe they are thefirst generals of France.'
'There is a name greater than them all,' cried the hussar, witheagerness.
'Let us hear it, then--you mean Pichegru, perhaps, or Massena?'
'No, I mean Bonaparte!' said the hussar triumphantly.
'A good officer, and one of us,' said the artilleryman, touching hisbelt to intimate the arm of the service the general belonged to. 'Hecommanded the siege-train at Toulon.'
'He belongs to all,' said the other. 'He is a dragoon, a voltigeur, anartillerist, a pontonnier--what you will--he knows everything, as I knowmy 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 theyundertook to defend, the dispute attracted a large circle of listeners,who, either seated on the green sward, or lying at full length, formeda picturesque group under the shadow of the spreading oak-trees.Meanwhile, the cooking went speedily forward, and the camp-kettlessmoked with a steam whose savoury odour was not a little tantalising toone 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 ata little distance off, and affecting--but I fear very ill--a totalindifference to what went forward.
'He is asking to what corps thou belong'st?' said another, seeing thatthe question puzzled me.
'I Unfortunately I have none,' said I. 'I merely followed the march forcuriosity.'
'And thy father and mother, child--what will they say to thee on thyreturn home?'
'I have neither father, mother, nor home,' said I promptly.
'Just like myself,' said an old red-whiskered sapeur; 'or if I ever hadparents they never had the grace to own me. Come over here, child, andtake 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, myboy, and tell us how art called.'
'Maurice Tiernay.'
'Maurice will do; few of us care for more than one name, except in thedead muster they like to have it in full. Help thyself, my lad, andhere's the wine-flask beside thee.'
'How comes it thou hast this old uniform, boy?' said he, pointing to mysleeve.
'It was one they gave me in the Temple,' said I. 'I was a _rat duprison_ for some time.'
'Thunder of war!' exclaimed the cannonier, 'I had rather stand a wholeplatoon-fire than see what thou must have seen, child.'
'And hast heart to go back there, boy,' said the corporal, 'and live thesame life again?'
'No, I 'll never go back,' said I. 'I 'll be a soldier.'
'Well said, _mon brave_--thou'lt be a hussar, I know.'
'If nature has given thee a good head, and a quick eye, my boy, thoumight even do better, and in time, perhaps, wear a coat like mine,' saidthe cannonier.
'And be a drummer, like thee?' said the cannonier.
'Just so, like me, and like Massena--he was a drummer, too.'
'No, no!' cried a dozen voices together; 'that's not true.'
'He's right; Massena 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 thedress of a _tambour_; and is it a disgrace to be the first to face theenemy?'
'And the first to turn his back to him, comrade,' cried another.
'Not always---not always,' said the little fellow, regardless of thelaugh against him. 'Had it been so, I had not gained the battle ofGrandrengs 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 gounacknowledged--and Kleber got all the credit that belonged to PierreCanot.'
'Let us hear about it, Pierre, for even thy victory is unknown by nameto 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.'
'_Voila!_ exclaimed Pierre, in contemptuous triumph. 'And these are thefellows that pretend to feel their country's glory, and take pride inher conquests. Where hast thou been, lad, not to hear of places thatevery child syllables nowadays?'
'I will tell you where I've been,' said the hussar haughtily, anddropping at the same time the familiar 'thee' and 'thou' of soldierintercourse--'I've been at Montenotte, at Millesimo, at Mondove---
'_Allons, donc!_ with your disputes,' broke in an old grenadier; 'as ifFrance was not victorious whether the enemies were English or German.Let us hear how Pierre won his battle at--at----'
'At Grandrengs,' said Pierre. 'They call it in the despatch the "actionof the Sambre," because Kleber came up there--and Kleber being a greatman, and Pierre Canot a little one, you understand, the glory attachesto the place where the bullion epaulettes are found--just as the oldKing of Prussia used to say, "Le bon Dieu est toujours a cote des grosbataillons."'
'I see we'll never come to this same victory of Grandrengs, with allthese 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'llnot weary the honourable company with any description of the battlegenerally, but just confine myself to that part of it in which I wasmyself in action. It is well known, that though we claimed the victoryof the 10th May, we did little more than keep our own, and were obligedto cross the Sambre, and be satisfied with such a position as enabled usto hold the two bridges over the river--and there we remained for fourdays; some said preparing for a fresh attack upon Kaunitz, who commandedthe allies; some, and I believe they were right, alleging thatour generals were squabbling all day, and all night, too, with twocommissaries that the Government had sent down to teach us how to winbattles. _Ma foi!_ we had had some experience in that way ourselves,without learning the art from two citizens with tricoloured scarfs roundtheir waists, and yellow tops to their boots! However that might be,early on the morning of the 20th we received orders to cross the riverin two strong columns, and form on the opposite side; at the same timethat 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 inflank, when they believed that all the force was in the front.'
'_Sacre tonnerre!_ I believe that our armies of the Sambre and theRhine never have any other notion of battles than that eternal flankmovement!' cried a young sergeant of the voltigeurs, who had just comeup from the army of Italy. 'Our general used to split the enemy by thecentre, cut him piecemeal by attack in columns, and then mow him downwith artillery at short range--not leaving him time for a retreat inheavy masses----'
'Silence, silence, and let us hear Petit Pierre!' shouted a dozenvoices, who cared far more for an incident than a scientific discussionabout manoeuvres.
'The plan I speak of was General Moreau's,' continued Pierre; 'and Ifancy that your Bonaparte has something to learn ere he be his equal!'
This rebuke seeming to have engaged the suffrages of the company, hewent on: 'The boat division consisted of four battalions of infantry,two batteries of light artillery, and a voltigeur company of the"Regiment de Marboeuf"--to which I was then, for the time, attached as_tambour en chef_. What fellows they were--the greatest devils inthe whole army! They came from the Faubourg St. Antoine, and were asreckless and undisciplined as when they strutted the streets of Paris.When they were thrown out to skirmish, they used to play as many tricksas schoolboys: sometimes they 'd run up to the roof of a cabin or ahut--and they could climb like cats--and, sitting down on the chimney,begin firing away at the enemy as coolly as if from a battery; sometimesthey'd capture half-a-dozen asses, and ride forward as if to charge, andthen, affecting to tumble off, the fellows would pick down any of theenemy's officers that were fools enough to come near--scampering back tothe 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 temptthe Germans to come out of their lines. It was with these blessed youthsI was now to serve, for the _tambour_ of the "Marboeuf" was drowned incrossing the Sambre a few days before. Well, we passed the river safely,and, unperceived by the enemy, gained the pine wood, where we formedin two columns, one of attack, and the other of support--the voltigeursabout five hundred paces in advance of the leading files. The morningwas dull and hazy, for a heavy rain had fallen during the night; andthe country is flat, and so much intersected with drains, and dikes, andditches, that, after rain, the vapour is too thick to see twenty yardson 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'sflank in the thickest of the engagement. As we advanced, we foundourselves in a kind of marshy plain, planted with willows, and sothick that it was often difficult for three men to march abreast. Thisextended for a considerable distance; and on escaping from it we sawthat we were not above a mile from the enemy's left, which rested on alittle 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 ofthe place was stockaded, as if they expected an attack. Still, thereare no vedettes, nor any lookout party, so far as we could see; and ourcommanding officer didn't well know what to make of it, whether it wasa point of concealed strength, or a position they were about to withdrawfrom. At all events, it required caution; and, although the battle hadalready begun on the right--as a loud cannonade and a heavy smoketold us--he halted the brigade in the wood, and held a council of hisofficers to see what was to be done. The resolution come to was, thatthe voltigeurs should advance alone to explore the way, the rest of theforce 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 went--and it was now a racewho should be earliest up and exchange first shot with the enemy. Somedashed forward over the open field in front; others skulked along bydikes and ditches; some, again, dodged here and there, as cover offeredits shelter; but about a dozen, of whom I was one, kept the track of alittle cart-
road, which, half concealed by high banks and furze, ran ina zigzag line towards the village. I was always smart of foot; and now,having newly joined the voltigeurs, was naturally eager to show myselfnot unworthy of my new associates. I went on at my best pace, and beinglightly equipped--neither musket nor ball cartridge to carry--I soonoutstripped them all; and, after about twenty minutes' brisk running,saw in front of me a long, low farmhouse, the walls all pierced formusketry, and two small eight-pounders in battery at the gate. I lookedback for my companions, but they were not up--not a man of them to beseen. "No matter," thought I, "they'll be here soon; meanwhile, I'llmake for that little copse of brushwood"; for a small clump of low furzeand 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, andthe guns, as they were pointed. At a distance all would seem like anordinary 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 footcaught in a branch. I stumbled and pitched forward; and trying to savemyself, I grasped a bough above me; it smashed suddenly, and down Iwent. Ay! down sure enough--for I went right through the furze, and intoa well--one of those old, walled wells they have in these countries,with a huge bucket that fills up the whole space, and is worked by achain. Luckily, the bucket was linked up near the top, and caught me, orI should have gone where there would have been no more heard of PierreCanot; as it was, I was sorely bruised by the fall, and didn't recovermyself for full ten minutes after. Then I discovered that I was sittingin a large wooden trough, hooped with iron, and supported by two heavychains that passed over a windlass, about ten feet above my head.
'I was safe enough for the matter of that; at least, none were likelyto discover me, as I could easily see by the rust of the chain and thegrass-grown edges, that the well had been long disused. Now the positionwas far from being pleasant. There stood the farmhouse full of soldiers,the muskets ranging over every approach to where I lay. Of my comradesthere was nothing to be seen--they had either missed the way orretreated; and so time crept on, and I pondered on what might be goingforward elsewhere, and whether it would ever be my own fortune to see mycomrades again.
'It might be an hour--it seemed three or four to me--after this, as Ilooked over the plain, I saw the caps of our infantry just issuingover the brushwood, and a glancing lustre of their bayonets, as the suntipped them. They were advancing, but, as it seemed, slowly--haltingat times, and then moving forward again--just like a force waiting forothers to come up. At last they debouched into the plain; but, to mysurprise, they wheeled about to the right, leaving the farmhouse ontheir flank, as if to march beyond it. This was to lose their waytotally; nothing would be easier than to carry the position of thefarm, for the Germans were evidently few, had no vedettes, and thoughtthemselves in perfect security. I crept out from my ambush, and, holdingmy cap on a stick, tried to attract notice from our fellows, but nonesaw 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 caringwhat might come of it, for I was half mad with vexation as well asdespair. They heard me now; I saw a staff-officer gallop up to the headof the leading division and halt them; a volley came peppering frombehind me, but without doing me any injury, for I was safe once more inmy bucket. Then came another pause, and again I repeated my manouvre,and to my delight perceived that our fellows were advancing at quickmarch. I beat harder, and the drums of the grenadiers answered me. Allright now, thought I, as, springing forward, I called out--"This way,boys, the wall of the orchard has scarcely a man to defend it!" and Irattled out the _pas de charge_ with all my force. One crashing fire ofguns and small-arms answered me from the farmhouse, and then away wentthe Germans as hard as they could!--such running never was seen! One ofthe guns they carried off with them; the tackle of the other broke, andthe drivers, jumping off their saddles, took to their legs at once. Ourlads were over the walls, through the windows, between the stockades,everywhere, in fact, in a minute, and, once inside, they carried allbefore them. The village was taken at the point of the bayonet, and inless than an hour the whole force of the brigade was advancing in fullmarch 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 cutto pieces.'
The cannonier nodded, as if in full assent, and Pierre looked around himwith the air of a man who has vindicated his claim to greatness.
'Of course,' said he, 'the despatch said little about Pierre Canot, buta great deal about Moreau, and Kleber, and the rest of them.'
While some were well satisfied that Pierre had well established hismerits as the conqueror of 'Grandrengs,' others quizzed him about theheroism of lying hid in a well, and owing all his glory to a skin ofparchment.
'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 likea mole.'
'I am tired of your song about this army of Italy,' broke in thecannonier; 'we who have served in La Vendee and the North know whatfighting means as well, mayhap, as men whose boldest feats are scalingrocks and clambering up precipices. Your Bonaparte is more like one ofthose Guerilla chiefs they have in the "Basque," than the general of aFrench 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 defiancearound him.
'And then?'--asked the other.
'And then--if he be a French soldier, he knows what should follow.'
'_Parbleu!_' said the cannonier coolly, 'there would be little glory incutting you down, and even less in being wounded by you; but if youwill have it so, it's not an old soldier of the artillery will balk yourhumour.'
As he spoke, he slowly arose from the ground, and tightening hiswaist-belt, seemed prepared to follow the other. The rest sprang totheir feet at the same time, but not, as I anticipated, to offer afriendly mediation between the angry parties, but in full approval oftheir readiness to decide by the sword a matter too trivial to be calleda quarrel.
In the midst of the whispering conferences as to place and weapons--forthe short straight sword of the artillery was very unlike the curvedsabre of the hussar--the quick tramp of horses was heard, and suddenlythe head of a squadron was seen, as, with glancing helmets andglittering equipments, they turned off the highroad and entered thewood.
'Here they come!--here come the troops!' was now heard on every side;and all question of the duel was forgotten in the greater interestinspired by the arrival of the others. The sight was strikinglypicturesque; for, as they rode up, the order to dismount was given, andin an instant the whole squadron was at work picketing and unsaddlingtheir horses; forage was shaken out before the weary and hungry beasts,kits were unpacked, cooking utensils produced, and every one busy inpreparing for the bivouac. An infantry column followed close upon theothers, which was again succeeded by two batteries of field-artilleryand some squadrons of heavy dragoons; and now the whole wood, far andnear, was crammed with soldiers, waggons, caissons, and camp equipage.To me the interest of the scene was never-ending--life, bustle, andgaiety on every side. The reckless pleasantry of the camp, too, seemedelevated by the warlike accompaniments of the picture--the caparisonedhorses, the brass guns, blackened on many a battlefield, theweather-seamed faces of the hardy soldiers themselves, all conspiring toexcite a high enthusiasm for the career.
Most of the equipments were new and strange to my eyes. I had neverbefore seen the grenadiers of the Republican Guard, with their enormousshakos, and their long-flapped vests, descending to the middle of thethigh; neither had I seen the 'Hussars de la mort,' in their richlybraided uniform of black, and their long hair curled in ringletsat either side of the face. The cuirassiers,
too, with theirlow 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 seenby me for the first time. But of all the figures which amused me most byits singularity, was that of a woman, who, in a short frock-coat anda low-crowned hat, carried a little barrel at her side, and led an assloaded with two similar but rather larger casks. Her air and gaitwere perfectly soldierlike; and as she passed the different posts andsentries, she saluted them in true military fashion. I was not long toremain in ignorance of her vocation nor her name; for scarcely did shepass a group without stopping to dispense a wonderful cordial that shecarried; and then I heard the familiar title of 'La Mere Madou,' utteredin 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 pleasingcountenance, with good teeth, and black eyes, a merry voice, and a readytongue, were qualities more than sufficient to make her a favouritewith the soldiers, whom I found she had followed to more than onebattlefield.
'_Peste!_ cried an old grenadier, as he spat out the liquor on theground. 'This is one of those sweet things they make in Holland; itsmacks 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 curacoa.'
'What, curacoa! Mere Madou, has got curacoa there?' cried agrey-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 mere_,' said he, as he wiped his thick moustache;'that liquor is another reason for extending the blessings of liberty tothe brave Dutch.'
'Didn't I tell you so?' said she, refilling the glass; 'but, holloa,there goes Gregoire at full speed. Ah, scoundrels that ye are, I seewhat ye 've done.' And so was it; some of the wild young voltigeurfellows had fastened a lighted furze-bush to the beast's tail, and hadset him at a gallop through the very middle of the encampment, upsettingtents, scattering cooking-pans, and tumbling the groups, as they sat, inevery direction.
The confusion was tremendous, for the picketed horses jumped about, andsome, breaking loose, galloped here and there, while others set off withhalf-unpacked waggons, scattering their loading as they went.
It was only when the blazing furze had dropped off, that the whole causeof the mischance would suffer himself to be captured and led quietlyback 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 tastefor fire when the day comes that ye should face it! _Pauvre_ Gregoire,they've left thee a tail like a tirailleur's feather! Plagues lighton 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 shecontemptuously; 'there are no pockets to pick here; and if there were,thou 'd lose thy ears for the doing it. Be off, then--back with theeto Paris and all its villainies. There are twenty thousand of thy tradethere, but there's work for ye all.'
'Nay, mere, don't be harsh with the boy,' said a soldier; 'you can seeby his coat that his heart is with us.'
'And he stole that, I'll be sworn,' said she, pulling me round, by thearm, full in front of her. 'Answer me, _gamin_, where didst find thatold 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 bythe 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 withridicule, 'or is it a family dress made after thy father's?'
'My father wore a soldier's coat, and bravely, too,' said I, withdifficulty 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 alludeto 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."'
'No--no, he 's thinking of the 9th, that got so roughly handled atFontenoy,' said another.
'Of neither,' said I; 'I am speaking of those who have left nothing buta name behind them--the Garde du Corps of the king.'
'_Voila!_ cried Madou, clapping her hands in astonishment at myimpertinence; 'there's an aristocrat for you! Look at him, _mes braves!_it's not every day we have the grand seigneurs condescending to comeamongst us! You can learn something of courtly manners from the polisheddescendant of our nobility. Say, boy, art a count, or a baron, orperhaps a duke?'
'Make way there--out of the road, Mere Madou,' cried a dragoon,curveting his horse in such a fashion as almost to upset ass and_cantiniere_ together, 'the staff is coming.'
The mere mention of the word sent numbers off in full speed to theirquarters; and now all was haste and bustle to prepare for the cominginspection. The mere's endeavours to drag her beast along were not verysuccessful, for, with the peculiar instinct of his species, the morenecessity there was of speed, the lazier he became; and as every one hadhis own concerns to look after, she was left to her own unaided effortsto drive him forward.
'Thou'lt have a day in prison if thou'rt found here, Mere Madou,' said adragoon, 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 bridlewhile I whip him on.'
I was at first disposed to refuse, but her pitiful face and sad plightmade me think better of it, and I seized the bridle at once; but just asI had done so, the escort galloped forward, and the dragoons comingon the flank of the miserable beast, over he went, barrels and all,crushing me beneath him as he fell.
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'Is the boy hurt?' were the last words I heard, as I fainted; but a fewminutes after I found myself seated on the grass, while a soldier wasstanching the blood that ran freely from a cut in my forehead.
'It is a trifle, general--a mere scratch,' said a young officer to anold man on horseback beside him, 'and the leg is not broken.'
'Glad of it,' said the old officer; 'casualties are insufferable, exceptbefore 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,' saidthe old general, as he threw me a small piece of money.
I looked up, and, straight before me, saw the same officer who had givenme the assignat the night before.
'General Lacoste!' cried I, in delight, for I thought him already afriend.
'How is this--have I an acquaintance here?' said he, smiling; 'on mylife! it's the young rogue I met this morning. Eh! art not thou theartillery-driver I spoke to at the barrack?'
'Yes, general, the same.'
'_Diantre!_ It seems fated, then, that we are not to part company soeasily; for hadst thou remained in Paris, lad, we had most probablynever met again.'
'_Ainsi, je suis bien tombe, 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 toone of the staff, said--
'I spoke to Bertholet about this boy already; see that they take him inthe 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 thehappiest heart that beat in all the crowded host.
Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune Page 6