+ ~ -
 
Please report pronunciation problems here. Select and sample other voices. Options Pause Play
 
Report an Error
Go!
 
Go!
 
TOC
 

"Age?" " Three-and-twenty." "Your last
domicile?" "London." "London?" "Yes,
Monsieur." " Why did you not present yourself
before for the conscription?" " I was ignorant
of my liability to be called out." " No one
may ignore the law!" " But, Monsieur le
Colonel, I have been in England all my life!"
"Oh! Doe yo sbeek Inglis?" " I do, colonel,
having been so many years in England"
(I answered in English). "Doe not sbeek
zo rapidement, Mister, an' I will you
understand perfectly." I thanked my lucky stars
this gentleman had learnt what English he knew,
for things had been taking an ill turn. He
uttered the last sentence with the former affable
smile on his face, and seemed quite willing to be
amiable in English, though when he spoke French,
it was in a very bull-doggy tone of voice. From
vinegar my colonel became syrup. He asked me
a few more questions, all in English, and then
opened a door communicating with another
office, and called out " Major!" A jolly little fat
man, with big epaulettes, and a waist like a
ripe gooseberry, trotted in.

I went through very nearly the same introduction
with the major as with the colonel.

"Major," said the colonel, "this gentleman
comes from England."

"Honoured to make your acquaintance," said
the major to me, and he put his little fat warm
hand, thumb first, into mine.

"He is a refractory recruit," continued the
colonel. The major looked at his superior; he
thought he had not heard aright, so he asked:

"What did you say, colonel?"

"I said, this gentleman is a refractory recruit!"

The little man grew redder than his pantaloons,
and uttered a phrase I should not like to
transcribe here, but plentifully interspersed with Rs,
alluding to " a hundred thousand million bombs
and bayonets." I wondered where it all came
from, and the colonel laughed heartily, but
quickly reassured him by saying that mine was a
case of force majeurethe effects of unavoidable
circumstances.

And the colonel added, in a half whisper, " Now
I'll prove to you that I can talk English," so he
began talking to me, and as I felt he was showing
off to the major, who was watching us
curiously to see whether I understood clearly the
colonel's gibberish, I affected to listen without
effort, answered quickly and without hesitation,
and never allowed the conversation to flag for
one moment. The end of all this was, that the
colonel was delighted, and the major astonished.
I was assured that the law would not go very hard
with me; that providing I could bring any officer
forward willing to vouch for my respectability,
I should suffer no imprisonment before trial.
I took a letter out of my pocket from Captain
Gerard, my father's friend, and that was deemed
sufficient, as the captain was garrisoned in Paris,
and said he would be responsible for my appearance
before the colonel of the recruiting-office.

But, there was a matter of form to be gone
through. Two gendarmes were called up, and
ordered to arrest me, to report the arrest with all
the attendant motives and circumstances, and to
immediately set me free on parole. Papers were
signed and countersigned. I was marched down
to the prison and delivered to the head jailer.
Here a member of the "Council of Revision"
made me strip, to see that I was fit for service,
and was pleased to observe that " I must have
been well fed in England." The jailer addressed
me as "prisoner," and finally congratulated me
on having got parole.

A few days afterwards, I was summoned to
undergo a preliminary examination, and to give the
name of the advocate who would defend me. I then
stated all I knew about myself, and informed the
colonel that I intended defending myself. He
strongly recommended me to have a lawyer to
watch my case for me, and said that if I could
not afford to pay one, the state would furnish me
with one in office. I still declined, stating that
my case was simple and straightforward. When
I had made my depositions, I was told that
as there were no cases to be tried then, and
as I was allowed parole, it would probably be
several days before a court-martial assembled,
and that, therefore, I was at liberty to roam
where I pleased until I should receive a notice to
appear before the court.

About ten days afterwards, I received a printed
notice, filled in with sundry scratches, to the
effect that I must present myself next morning,
at nine o'clock, at the Rue Cherche Midi. On
my arrival there, I was locked up in a little cell
about five yards square, and in which there were
a bed of deal planks and a bundle of straw.
Taking my seat on the corner of one of the planks,
which tipped and almost threw me, I looked
around me and deciphered some inscriptions
rudely scratched upon the walls. The first one
was evidently sarcastic. It was the first verse of
the favourite air in Boildieu's opera, La Dame
Blanche, beginning, "Ah quel plaisir d'être
soldat!" Ah, what pleasure to be a soldier!
Alongside of it was something written by a
Breton; the Bretons, poor fellows, never forget
their religion. It was the Ave Maria, written
over what pretended to be a faithful representation
of a colonel on an impossible horse, in the
act of charging Sebastopol all by himself. And
there, up in a corner, was an inscription written
in miniature, acquainting prisoners that " by a
judicious investment of a franc, it was just
possible to obtain sundry little luxuries through
the jailer." Perhaps the jailer had written this
himself. A prisoner, at any rate, was sure to
find it out when looking around his cell in search
of something to amuse him.

At a quarter to ten, my door was unlocked, and
I was placed, along with seven other prisoners,
between some twenty grenadiers. We were
marched through the yard, up a wide staircase,
into a large lofty room. At one end of the room,
and on a platform elevated about two feet from