CHAPTER XIX. A RECONNAISSANCE
From the little creek where we landed, a small zigzag path led up thesides of the cliff, the track by which the peasants carried the sea-weedwhich they gathered for manure, and up this we now slowly wended ourway.
Stopping for some time to gaze at the ample bay beneath us, thetall-masted frigates floating so majestically on its glassy surface--itwas a scene of tranquil and picturesque beauty with which it would havebeen almost impossible to associate the idea of war and invasion. Inthe lazy bunting that hung listlessly from peak and mast-head--in thecheerful voices of the sailors, heard afar off in the stillness--inthe measured plash of the sea itself, and the fearless daring of thesea-gulls, as they soared slowly above our heads--there seemedsomething so suggestive of peace and tranquillity, that it struck us asprofanation to disturb it.
As we gained the top and looked around us, our astonishment became evengreater. A long succession of low hills, covered with tall ferns orheath, stretched away on every side; not a house, nor a hovel, nor aliving thing to be seen. Had the country been one uninhabited sincethe Creation, it could not have presented an aspect of more thoroughdesolation! No road-track, nor even a footpath, led through the drearywaste before us, on which, to all seeming, the foot of man had neverfallen. And as we stood for some moments, uncertain which way to turn, asense of the ridiculous suddenly burst upon the party, and we all brokeinto a hearty roar of laughter.
'I little thought,' cried Charost, 'that I should ever emulate "LaPerouse," but it strikes me that I am destined to become a greatdiscoverer.'
'How so, colonel?' asked his aide-de-camp.
'Why, it is quite clear that this same island is uninhabited; and if itbe all like this, I own I'm scarcely surprised at it.'
'Still, there must be a town not far off, and the residence of thatbishop we heard of this morning.'
A half-incredulous shrug of the shoulders was all his reply, as hesauntered along with his hands behind his back, apparently lost inthought; while we, as if instinctively partaking of his gloom, followedhim in total silence.
'Do you know, gentlemen, what I'm thinking?' said he, stopping suddenlyand facing about. 'My notion is, that the best thing to do here would beto plant our tricolour, proclaim the land a colony of France, and taketo our boats again.'
This speech, delivered with an air of great gravity, imposed upon usfor an instant; but the moment after, the speaker breaking into a heartylaugh, we all joined him, as much amused by the strangeness of oursituation, 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 clayeysurface.
'If we could ever land them at all!' muttered he, half aloud; thenadded, 'But for what object should we? Believe me, gentlemen, if we areto 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 sheepfeeding in that little glen?'
'Yes,' cried I, 'and a man herding them, too. See, the fellow has caughtsight of us, and he's off as fast as his legs can carry him.' And so wasit: the man had no sooner seen us than he sprang to his feet and hurrieddown the mountain at full speed.
Our first impulse was to follow and give him chase, and even without aword we all started off in pursuit; but we soon saw how fruitless wouldbe the attempt, for, even independent of the start he had got of us, thepeasant's speed was more than the double of our own.
'No matter,' said the colonel, 'if we have lost the shepherd we haveat least gained the sheep, and so I recommend you to secure mutton fordinner 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. Wewere reckoning without our host, however, for the animals, after onestupid stare at us, set off in a scamper that soon showed their mountainbreeding, keeping all together like a pack of hounds, and really notvery inferior in the speed they displayed.
A little gorge led between the hills, and through this they rushedmadly, and with a clatter like a charge of cavalry. Excited by thechase, and emulous each to outrun the other, the colonel threw off hisshako, and Briolle his sword, in the ardour of pursuit. We now gainedon them rapidly, and though, from a winding in the glen, they hadmomentarily got out of sight, we knew that we were close upon them. Iwas about thirty paces in advance of my comrades, when, on turning anangle of the gorge, I found myself directly in front of a group of mudhovels, near which were standing about a dozen ragged, miserable-lookingmen, armed with pitchforks and scythes, while in the rear stood thesheep, blowing and panting from the chase.
I came to a dead stop; and although I would have given worlds to havehad my comrades at my side, I never once looked back to see if they werecoming; but, putting a bold face on the matter, called out the only fewwords I knew of Irish, 'Go de-mat ha tu.'
The peasants looked at each other; and whether it was my accent, myimpudence, or my strange dress and appearance, or altogether, I cannotsay, but after a few seconds' pause they burst out into a roar oflaughter, in the midst of which my two comrades came up.
'We saw the sheep feeding on the hills yonder,' said I, recoveringself-possession, 'and guessed that by giving them chase they'd lead usto 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, whowas wiping his forehead and face after his late exertion.
The information, far from producing the electric effect of pleasure Ihad 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 ismutual.'
'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'snever too late to assert a good cause; that we have got arms for twentythousand, if they have but hands and hearts to use them. Tell him thata French army is now lying in that bay yonder, ready and able toaccomplish the independence of Ireland.'
I delivered my speech as pompously as it was briefed to me; and althoughI was listened to in silence, and respectfully, it was plain my wordscarried little or no conviction with them. Not caring to waste more ofour time in such discourse, I now inquired about the country--in whatdirections lay the highroads, and the relative situations of the townsof Killala, Gastlebar, and Ballina, the only places of comparativeimportance in the neighbourhood. I next asked about the landing-places,and learned that a small fishing-harbour existed, not more than half amile from the spot where we had landed, from which a little countryroad lay to the village of Palmerstown. As to the means of transportingbaggage, guns, and ammunition, there were few horses to be had, butwith money we might get all we wanted; indeed, the peasants constantlyreferred to this means of success, even to asking 'What the French wouldgive a man that was to join them?' If I did not translate the demandwith fidelity to my colonel, it was really that a sense of shameprevented me. My whole heart was in the cause; and I could not endurethe thought of its being degraded in this way. It was growing duskish,and the colonel proposed that the peasant should show us the way tothe fishing-harbour he spoke of, while some other of the party might goround to our boat, and direct them to follow us thither. The arrangementwas soon made, and we all sauntered down towards the shore, chattingover the state of the country, and the chances of a successful rising.From the specimen before me, I was not disposed to be over sanguineabout the peasantry. The man was evidently disaffected towards England.He bore her neither good-will nor love, but his fears were greater thanall else. He had never heard of a
nything but failure in all attemptsagainst her, and he could not believe in any other result. Even the aidand alliance of France inspired no other feeling than distrust, forhe said more than once, 'Sure what can harm yez? Haven't ye yer shipsbeyant, to take yez away, if things goes bad?'
I was heartily glad that Colonel Charost knew so little English, thatthe greater part of the peasant's conversation was unintelligible tohim, since, from the first, he had always spoken of the expedition interms of disparagement; and certainly what we were now to hear was notof 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 whenasking us about France and her prospects, than when the conversationconcerned his own country. It appeared as though, in the one case,distance gave grandeur and dimensions to all his conceptions, whilefamiliarity with home scenes and native politics had robbed them ofall their illusions. He knew well that there were plenty of hardships,abundance of evils, to deplore in Ireland: rents were high, taxes andtithes oppressive, agents were severe, bailiffs were cruel Social wrongshe could discuss for hours, but of political woes, the only ones wecould be expected to relieve or care for, he really knew nothing. ''Tistrue,' he repeated, 'that what my honour said was all right, Ireland wasbadly treated,' and so on; 'liberty was an elegant thing if a body hadit,' and such like; but there ended his patriotism.
Accustomed for many a day to the habits of a people where all werepoliticians, where the rights of man and the grand principles ofequality 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 beenconveying a rather rose-coloured version of my friend's talk.
'Oh, begorra! we 'll fight sure enough!' said he, with a half-doggedscowl beneath his brows.
'What number of them may we reckon on in the neighbourhood?' repeatedthe colonel.
''Tis mighty hard to say; many of the boys were gone over to England forthe harvest; some were away to the counties inland, others were workingon the roads; but if they knew, sure they 'd be soon back again.'
'Might they calculate on a thousand stout, effective men?' askedCharost.
'Ay, twenty, if they were at home,' said the peasant, less a liar byintention than from the vague and careless disregard of truth so commonin all their own intercourse with each other.
I must own that the degree of credit we reposed in the worthy man'sinformation was considerably influenced by the state of facts beforeus, inasmuch as that the 'elegant, fine harbour' he had so gloriouslydescribed--'the beautiful road'--'the neat little quay' to land upon,and the other advantages of the spot, all turned out to be most grievousdisappointments. That the people were not of our own mind on thesematters, was plain enough from the looks of astonishment our discontentprovoked; and now a lively discussion ensued on the relative merits ofvarious bays, creeks, and inlets along the coast, each of which, withsome unpronounceable name or other, was seen to have a special advocatein its favour, till at last the colonel lost all patience, and jumpinginto the boat, ordered the men to push off for the frigate.
Evidently out of temper at the non-success of his reconnaissance, and aslittle pleased with the country as the people, Gharost did not speak aword as we rowed back to the ship. Our failure, as it happened, was oflittle moment, for another party, under the guidance of Madgett, hadalready discovered a good landing-place at the bottom of the Bay ofRathfran, and arrangements were already in progress to disembark thetroops at daybreak. We also found that, during our absence, some of the'chiefs' had come off from shore, one of whom, named Neal Kerrigan, wasdestined to attain considerable celebrity in the rebel army. He was atalkative, vulgar, presumptuous fellow, who, without any knowledge orexperience whatever, took upon him to discuss military measures andstrategy with all the assurance of an old commander.
Singularly enough, Humbert suffered this man to influence him in a greatdegree, and yielded opinion to him on points even where his own judgmentwas directly opposed to the advice he gave.
If Kerrigan's language and bearing were directly the reverse ofsoldierlike, his tawdry uniform of green and gold, with massiveepaulettes and a profusion of lace, were no less absurd in our eyes,accustomed as we were to the almost puritan plainness of militarycostume. His rank, too, seemed as undefined as his information; forwhile he called himself 'General,' his companions as often addressedhim 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 thepeasantry, or reduce them to anything like habits of military obedience.Were the effort to be made, it would prove a total failure; for theywould either grow disgusted with the restraint, and desert altogether,or so infect the other troops with their own habits of disorder, thatthe whole force would become a mere rabble. Arm them well, let them haveplenty of ammunition, and free liberty to use it in their own way andtheir own time, and we should soon see that they would prove a greaterterror to the English than double the number of trained and disciplinedtroops.'
In some respects this view was a correct one; but whether it was awise counsel to have followed, subsequent events gave us ample cause todoubt.
Kerrigan, however, had a specious, reckless, go-a-head way with him thatsuited well the tone and temper of Humbert's mind. He never looked toofar into consequences, but trusted that the eventualities of the morrowwould always suggest the best course for the day after; and this alonewas so akin to our own general's mode of proceeding, that he speedilywon his confidence.
The last evening on board was spent merrily on all sides. In the generalcabin, where the staff and all the _chefs de brigade_ were assembled,gay songs, and toasts, and speeches succeeded each other till nighmorning. The printed proclamations, meant for circulation among thepeople, were read out, with droll commentaries; and all imaginablequizzing and jesting went on about the new government to be establishedin Ireland, and the various offices to be bestowed upon each. Had thewhole expedition been a joke, the tone of levity could not have beengreater. Not a thought was bestowed, not a word wasted, upon any ofthe graver incidents that might ensue. All were, if not hopeful andsanguine, utterly reckless, and thoroughly indifferent to the future.