Already the cheers of my gallant countrymen were within my hearing, and amid all the misery and danger around me my heart rose proudly at the glorious victory they had gained.
Meanwhile my escort, whose feeling towards me became more brutal as their defeat was more perceptible, urged me forward with many an oath and imprecation. Leaving the main road, we took the fields, already crowded with the infantry. At last, as the charges of the English came closer, my escort seemed to hesitate upon being any longer burdened by me, and one, after interchanging some angry words with his companion, rode off, leaving me to the care of him who pa.s.sed the cord round my wrist. For a second or two this fellow seemed to waver whether he might not dispose of me more briefly, and once he half withdrew his pistol from the holster, and turned round in his saddle to regard me more steadily. A better feeling, however, gained the mastery; the hope, too, of promotion, could he bring in an officer his prisoner, had doubtless its share in his decision. He ordered me to jump up behind him, and, dashing spurs into his troop-horse, rode forward.
I have, perhaps, lingered too long in my recollections of this eventful night; it was, however, the last striking incident which preceded a long captivity. On the third day of the retreat I was joined to a band of Spanish prisoners marching towards Bayonne. Of the glorious victory which rescued the Peninsula from the dominion of the French, and drove their beaten armies beyond the Pyrenees, or of the great current of events which followed the battle of Vittoria, I do not purpose to speak. Neither will I trouble my reader with a narrative of hardship and suffering; it is enough to mention that my refusal to give my parole subjected me in all cases to every indignity. Wearied out at length, however, I accepted this only chance of rendering life endurable; and on reaching Bayonne I gave my word not to attempt my escape, and was accordingly separated from my companions in misfortune, and once more treated as a gentleman.
The refusal to accept "parole," I learned afterwards, was invariably construed by the French authorities of the day into a direct avowal not only to attempt escape by any means that might present themselves, but was also deemed a rejection of the hospitality of the country, which placed the recusant beyond the pale of its courtesy. No sooner had I complied with this necessity--for such it was--than I experienced the greatest kindness and politeness in every quarter. Through every village in the south, the house of the most respectable inhabitant was always opened to me; and with a delicacy it would be difficult to match elsewhere, although the events of the Spanish war were the subjects of general interest wherever we pa.s.sed, not a word was spoken nor a hint dropped before the "prisoner" which could in the slightest degree offend his nationality or hurt his susceptibility as an enemy.
I shall now beg of my reader to pa.s.s over with me a long interval of time, during which my life presented nothing of interest or incident, and accompany me to the environs of St. Omer, where, in the commencement of the year 1814 I found myself domesticated as a prisoner of war on parole. During the long period that had elapsed since the battle of Vittoria, I had but once heard from home. Matters there were pretty much as I had left them. My father had removed to a colonial appointment, whence he transmitted the rich revenues of his office to my mother, whose habitual economy enabled her to dispense hospitality at Bath, much in the same kind of way as she had formerly done at London. My lovely cousin--in the full possession of her beauty and a large fortune--had refused some half-dozen brilliant proposals, and was reported to have an unswerving attachment to some near relative--which happy individual, my mother suggested, was myself. Of the Bellews, I learned from the newspapers that Sir Simon was dead; and Miss Bellew, having recovered most of the great estates of her family through the instrumentality of a clever attorney (whom I guessed to be my friend Paul), was now the great belle and fortune of Dublin. I had frequently written home, and once or twice to the Rooneys and the Major, but never received any answer; so that at last I began to think myself forgotten by every one, and dreamed away my life in a state almost of apathy--dead to the exciting events of the campaign, which, even in the seclusion where I lived, were from time to time reported. The brilliant march of our victorious troops through the Pyrenees and the south of France, Nivelle, Orthez, and Toulouse, I read of as people read of long past events. Life to me appeared to have run out; and my thoughts turned ever backward to the bright morning of my career in Ireland--my early burst of manhood, my first and only pa.s.sion.
The old royalist seigneur upon whom I was billeted could evidently make nothing of the stolid indifference with which I heard him and his antiquated spouse discuss the glorious prospect of a restoration of the Bourbons: even the hope of liberty was dying away within me. One ever-present thought had damped all ardour and all ambition--I had done nothing as a soldier; my career had ended as it begun; and, while others had risen to fame and honour, _my_ name had won nothing of distinction and repute. Instead of anxiously looking forward to a meeting with Louisa Bellew, I dreaded the very thoughts of it. My mother"s fashionable _morgue_ and indifference I should now feel as a sarcasm on my own failure; and as to my cousin Julia, the idea alone of her raillery was insufferable. The only plan I could devise for the future was, as soon as I should recover my liberty, to exchange into some regiment in the East Indies, and never to return to England.
It was, then, with some surprise and not much sympathy that I beheld my venerable host appear one morning at breakfast with a large white c.o.c.kade in the breast of his frock-coat, and a huge white lily in a winegla.s.s before him. His elated manner and joyous looks were all so many riddles to me; while the roll of drums in the peaceful little town, the ringing of bells, and the shouts of the inhabitants were all too much even for apathy like mine.
"What is the _tintamarre_ about?" said I pettishly, as I saw the old gentleman fidget from the table to the window and then back again, rubbing his hands, admiring his c.o.c.kade, and smelling at the lily, alternatively.
"Tintamarre!" said he indignantly, "savez-vous, monsieur? Ce n"est pas le mot, celui-la. We are restored, sir! we have regained our rightful throne! we are no longer exiles!"
"Yes!" said the old lady, bursting into the room, and throwing herself into her husband"s arms, and then into mine, in a rapture of enthusiasm--"yes, brave young man! to you and your victorious companions in arms we owe the happiness of this moment. We are restored!"
"Yes! restored! restored!" echoed the old gentleman, throwing open the window, and shouting as though he would have burst a blood-vessel; while the mob without, catching up the cry, yelled it louder than ever.
"These people must be all deranged," thought I, unable to conjecture at the moment the reasons for such extravagant joy. Meanwhile, the room became crowded with townspeople in holiday costume, all wearing the white c.o.c.kade, and exchanging with one another the warmest felicitations at the happy event.
I now soon learned that the Allies were in the possession of Paris, that Napoleon had abdicated, and the immediate return of Louis xviii. was already decided upon. The trumpets of a cavalry regiment on the march were soon added to the uproar without, accompanied by cries of "The English! The brave English!" I rushed to the door, and to my astonishment beheld above the heads of the crowd the tall caps of a British dragoon regiment towering aloft. Their band struck up as they approached; and what a sensation did my heart experience as I heard the well-remembered air of "Garryowen" resound through the little streets of a French village!
"An Irish regiment!" said I, half aloud.
The word was caught by a bystander, who immediately communicated it to the crowd, adding, by way of explanation, "Les Irlandois! oui, ces sont les Cossaques d"Angleterre."
I could not help laughing at the interpretation, when suddenly my own name was called out loudly by some person from the ranks. I started at the sound, and forcing my way through the crowd I looked eagerly on every side, my heart beating with anxiety lest some deception might have misled me.
"Hinton! Jack Hinton!" cried the voice again. At the head of the regiment rode three officers, whose looks were bent steadily on me, while they seemed to enjoy my surprise and confusion. The oldest of the party, who rode between the two others, was a large swarthy-looking man, with a long drooping moustache, at that time rarely worn by officers of our army. His left arm he wore in a sling; but his right was held in a certain easy, jaunty manner I could not soon forget. A burst of laughter broke from him at length, as he called out--" Come, Jack, you must remember me!" "What!" cried I," O"Grady! Is it possible?" "Even so, my boy," said he, as throwing his reins on his wrist he grasped my hand and shook it with all his heart. "I knew you were here, and I exerted all my interest to get quartered near you. This is my regiment--eh?--not fellows to be ashamed of, Jack? But come along with us; we mustn"t part company now."
Amid the wildest cries of rejoicing and frantic demonstrations of grat.i.tude from the crowd, the regiment moved on to the little square of the village. Here the billets were speedily arranged; the men betook themselves to their quarters, the officers broke into small parties, and O"Grady and myself retired to the inn, where, having dined _tete-a-tete_, we began the interchange of our various adventures since we parted.
CHAPTER LV. THE FOUR-IN-HAND
My old friend, save in the deeper brown upon his cheek and some scars from French sabres, was nothing altered from the hour in which we parted; the same bold, generous temperament, the same blending of recklessness and deep feeling, the wild spirit of adventure, and the gentle tenderness of a child were all mixed up in his complex nature, for he was every inch an Irishman. While the breast of his uniform glittered with many a cross and decoration, he scarcely ever alluded to his own feats in the campaign; nor did he more than pa.s.singly mention the actions where his own conduct had been most conspicuous. Indeed, there was a reserve in his whole manner while speaking of the Peninsular battles which I soon discovered proceeded from delicacy towards me, knowing how little I had seen of service owing to my imprisonment, and fearing lest in the detail of the glorious career of our armies he might be inflicting fresh wounds on one whose fortune forbade him to share in it. He often asked me about my father, and seemed to feel deeply the kindness he had received from him when in London. Of my mother, too, he sometimes spoke, but never even alluded to Lady Julia; and when once I spoke of her as the protector of Corny, he fidgeted for a second or two, seemed uneasy and uncomfortable, and gave me the impression that he felt sorry to be reduced to accept a favour for his servant, where he himself had been treated with coldness and distance.
Apart from this--and it was a topic we mutually avoided--O"Grady"s spirits were as high as ever. Mixing much with the officers of his corps, he was actually beloved by them. He joined in all their schemes of pleasure and amus.e.m.e.nt with the zest of his own buoyant nature; and the youngest cornet in the regiment felt himself the Colonel"s inferior in the gaiety of the mess as much as at the head of the squadrons.
At the end of a few days I received from Paris the papers necessary to relieve me from the restraint of my parole, and was concerting with O"Grady the steps necessary to be taken to resume my rank in the service, when an incident occurred which altered all our plans for the moment, and, by one of those strange casualties which so often occur in life, gave a new current to my own fate for ever.
I should mention here, that, amid all the rejoicings which ushered in the restoration, amid all the flattery by which the allied armies were received, one portion of the royalists maintained a dogged, ungenial spirit towards the men by whom their cause was rendered victorious, and never forgave them the honour of reviving a dynasty to which they themselves had contributed nothing. These were the old _militaires_ of Louis xviii.--the men who, too proud or too good-for-nothing to accept service under the Emperor, had lain dormant during the glorious career of the French armies, and who now, in their hour of defeat and adversity, started into life as the representatives of the military genius of the country. These men, I say, hated the English with a vindictive animosity which the old Napoleonists could not equal. Without the generous rivalry of an open foe, they felt themselves humbled by comparison with the soldiers whose weather-beaten faces and shattered limbs bore token of a hundred battles, and for the very cause, too, for which they themselves were the most interested. This ungenerous spirit found vent for itself in a thousand petty annoyances, which were practised upon our troops in every town and village of the north of France; and every officer whose billet consigned him to the house of a royalist soldier would gladly have exchanged his quarters for the companionship of the most inveterate follower of Napoleon. To an instance of what I have mentioned was owing the incident which I am about to relate.
To relieve the ennui of a French village, the officers of the Eighteenth had, with wonderful expenditure of skill and labour, succeeded in getting up a four-in-hand drag, which, to the astonishment and wonder of the natives, was seen daily wending its course through the devious alleys and narrow streets of the little town, the roof covered with dashing dragoons, whose laughing faces and loud-sounding bugles were all deemed so many direct insults by the ill-conditioned section I have mentioned. The unequivocal evidences of dislike they exhibited to this dashing "turn-out" formed, I believe, one of its great attractions to the Eighteenth, who never omitted an occasion, whatever the state of the weather, to issue forth every day, with all the noise and uproar they could muster.
At last, however, the old _commissaire de police_, whose indignation at the proceeding knew no bounds, devised an admirable expedient for annoying our fellows--one which, supported as it was by the law of the country, there was no possibility of evading. This was to demand the pa.s.sport of every officer who pa.s.sed the _barriere_, thus necessitating him to get down from the roof of the coach, present his papers, and have them carefully conned and scrutinised, their _vises_ looked into, and all sorts of questions propounded.
When it is understood that the only drive led through one or other of these barriers, it may be imagined how provoking and vexatious such a course of proceeding became. Representations were made to the mayor ever and anon, explaining that the pa.s.sports once produced no further inconvenience should be incurred; but all to no purpose. Any one who knows France will acknowledge how totally inadequate a common-sense argument is in the decision of a question before a government functionary. The mayor, too, was a royalist, and the matter was decided against us.
Argument and reason having failed, the gallant Eighteenth came to the resolution to try force; and accordingly it was decided that next morning we should charge the _barriere_ in full gallop, as it was rightly conjectured that no French employe would feel disposed to encounter the rush of a four-in-hand, even with the law on his side. To render the _coup de main_ more brilliant, and perhaps, too, to give an air of plausibility to the infraction, four dashing thoroughbred light chestnuts--two of the number having never felt a collar in their lives--were harnessed for the occasion. A strong force of the wildest spirits of the regiment took their places on the roof; and amid a cheer that actually made the street ring, and a tantarara from the trumpets, the equipage dashed through the town, the leaders bounding with the swingle-bars every moment over their backs. Away we went, the populace flying in terror on every side, and every eye turned towards the _barriere_, where the dignified official stood, in the calm repose of his station, as if daring us to transgress his frontier. Already had he stepped forward with his accustomed question. The words, "Messieurs, je vous demande," had just escaped his lips, when he had barely time to spring into his den as the furious leaders tore past, the pavement crashing beneath their hoofs, and shouts of laughter mingling with the uproar.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 3-132]
Having driven for a league or so at a slow pace, to breathe our cattle, we turned homewards, rejoicing in the success of our scheme, which had fully satisfied our expectations. What was our chagrin, however, as we neared the _barriere_, to discover that a strong force of mounted gendarmes stopped the way, their drawn sabres giving us plainly to understand the fate that awaited our horses if we persisted in our plan!
What was to be done? To force a pa.s.sage under the circ.u.mstances was only to give an opportunity to the gendarmerie they were long anxious for, to cut our whole equipage in pieces. To yield was the only alternative; but what an alternative!--to be laughed at by the whole town on the very day of our victory!
"I have it!" said O"Grady, who sat on the box beside the driver--"I have it, lads! Pull up when they tell you, and do as they direct."
With some difficulty the four dashing nags were reined in as we came up to the _barriere_; and the commissaire, bursting with pa.s.sion, appeared at the door of the lodge, and directed us to get down.
"Your pa.s.sports will avail little on the present occasion," said he insolently, as we produced our papers. "Your carriage and horses are confiscated. St. Omer has now privilege as a fortified town. The fortresses of France enforce a penalty of forty thousand francs----"
A burst of laughter from the bystanders at our rueful faces prevented us hearing the remainder of the explanation. Meanwhile, to our horror and disgust, some half-dozen gendarmes, with their long caps and heavy boots, were crawling up the sides of the drag, and taking their seats upon the top. Some crept into the interior, and showed their grinning faces at the windows; others mounted into the rumble; and two more aspiring spirits ascended to the box, by one of whom O"Grady was rudely ordered to get down, a summons enforced by the commissaire himself in a tone of considerable insolence. O"Grady"s face for a minute or two seemed working with a secret impulse of fun and devilment which I could not account for at such a moment, as he asked, in a voice of much humility--
"Does Monsieur the Commissaire require me to come down?"
"Instantly," roared the Frenchman, whose pa.s.sion was now boiling over.
"In that case, gentlemen, take charge of the team." So saying, he handed the reins to the pa.s.sive gendarmes, who took them, without well knowing why. "I have only a piece of advice," continued Phil, as he slowly descended the side--"keep a steady hand on the near-side leader, and don"t let the bar strike her; and now, good-bye."
He flourished his four-in-hand whip as he spoke, and with one tremendous cut came down on the team, from leader to wheeler, accompanying the stroke with a yell there was no mistaking. The heavy carriage bounded from the earth as the infuriated cattle broke away at full gallop. A narrow street and a sharp angle lay straight in front; but few of those on the drag waited for the turn, as at every step some bearskin shako shot into the air, followed by a tall figure, whose heavy boots seemed ill-adapted for flying in. The corporal himself had abandoned the reins, and held on manfully by the rail of the box. On every side they fell, in every att.i.tude of distress. But already the leaders had reached the corner; round went the swingle-bars, the wheelers followed, the coach rocked to one side, sprang clean off the pavement, came down with a crash, and then fell right over, while the maddened horses, breaking away, dashed through the town, the harness in fragments behind them, and the pavement flying at every step.
The immediate consequences of this affair were some severe bruises, and no small discouragement to the gendarmerie of St. Omer; the remoter ones, an appeal from the munic.i.p.al authorities to the Commander-in-chief, by whom the matter was referred for examination to the Adjutant-General. O"Grady was accordingly summoned to Paris to explain, if he could, his conduct in the matter. The order for his appearance there came down at once, and I, having nothing to detain me at St. Omer, resolved to accompany my friend for a few days at least, before I returned to England. Our arrangements were easily made; and the same night we received the Adjutant-General"s letter we started by post for Paris.
CHAPTER LVI. ST. DENIS
We were both suddenly awakened from a sound sleep in the _caleche_ by the loud cracking of the postillion"s whip, the sounds of street noises, and the increased rattle of the wheels over the unequal pavement. We started up just as, turning round in his saddle and pointing with his long whip to either side of him, the fellow called out--
"Paris, Messieurs, Paris! This is Faubourg St. Denis; there before you lies the Rue St. Denis. _Sacristi!_ the streets are as crowded as at noonday."
By this time we had rubbed the sleep from our eyelids and looked about us, and truly the scene before us was one to excite all our astonishment. The Quartier St. Denis was then in the occupation of the Austrian troops, who were not only billeted in the houses, but bivouacked in the open streets--their horses picketed in long files along the _pave_, the men asleep around their watch-fires, or burnishing arms and accoutrements beside them. The white-clad cuira.s.sier from the Danube, the active and sinewy Hungarian, the tall and swarthy Croat were all there, mixed up among groups of peasant girls coming in to market with fowls and eggs. Carts of forage and waggons full of all manner of provisions were surrounded by groups of soldiers and country-people, trading amicably with one another as though the circ.u.mstances which had brought them together were among the ordinary events of commerce.
Threading our way slowly through these, we came upon the Jager encampment, their dark-green uniform and brown carbines giving that air of _sombre_ to their appearance so striking after the steel-clad cuira.s.sier and the bright helmets of the dragoons. Farther on, around a fountain, were a body of dismounted dragoons, their tall colbacks and scarlet trousers bespeaking them Polish lancers; their small but beautifully formed white horses pawed the ground, and splashed the water round them, till the dust and foam rose high above them. But the strangest of all were the tall, gigantic figures, who, stretched alongside of their horses, slept in the very middle of the wide street.
Lifting their heads lazily for a moment, they gazed on us as we pa.s.sed, and then lay down again to sleep. Their red beards hung in ma.s.ses far down upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and their loose trousers of a reddish dye but half concealed boots of undressed skin. Their tall lances were piled around them; but these were not wanting to prove that the savage, fierce-looking figures before us were the Cossacks of the Don, thus come for many a hundred mile to avenge the slaughter of Borodino and the burning of Moscow. As we penetrated farther into the city, the mixture of nation and costume became still more remarkable. The erect and soldierlike figure of the Prussian; the loose, wild-eyed Tartar; the brown-clad Russian, with russet beard and curved sabre; the stalwart Highlander, with nodding plume and waving tartan; the Bashkir, with naked scimitar; the gorgeous hussar of Hungary; the tall and manly form of the English guardsman--all pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed before us, adding, by the babel of discordant sound, to the wild confusion of the scene.
It was a strange sight to see the savage soldier from the steppes of Russia, the dark-eyed, heavy-browed Gallician, the yellow-haired Saxon, the rude native of the Caucasus, who had thus given themselves a rendezvous in the very heart of European civilisation, wandering about--now stopping to admire some magnificent palace, now gazing with greedy wonder at the rich display of some jeweller, or the costly and splendid dresses which were exhibited in the shop windows; while here and there were gathered groups of men whose looks of undisguised hate and malignity were bent unceasingly upon the moving ma.s.s. Their _bourgeois_ dress could not conceal that they were the old soldiers of the Empire--the men of Wagram, of Austerlitz, of Jena, and of Wilna--who now witnessed within their own capital the awful retribution of their own triumphant aggressions.
As the morning advanced the crowds increased, and as we approached the Place du Carrousel, regiments poured in from every street to the morning parade. Among these the Russian _garde_--the _Bonnets d"or_--were conspicuous for the splendour of their costume and the soldierlike precision of their movements, the clash of their bra.s.s cymbals and the wild strains of their martial music adding indescribably to their singular appearance. As the infantry drew up in line, we stopped to regard them, when from the Place Louis Quinze the clear notes of a military band rang out a quick step, and the Twenty-eighth British marched in to the air of "The Young May Moon." O"Grady"s excitement could endure no longer. He jumped up in the _caleche_, and, waving his hat above his head, gave a cheer that rang through the long corridor beneath the Louvre. The Irish regiment caught up the cry, and a yell as wild as ever rose above the din of battle shook the air. A Cossack picket then cantering up suddenly halted, and, leaning down upon their horses" manes, seemed to listen; then dashing spurs into their horses"
flanks they made the circuit of the Place at full gallop, while their "Hurra!" burst forth with all the wild vehemence of their savage nature.