Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune

  CHAPTER IV. 'THE NIGHT OF THE NINTH THERMIDOR'

  I had agreed with the Pere Michel to rendezvous at the garden of thelittle chapel of St. Blois, and thitherward I now turned my steps.

  The success which followed this my first enterprise in life had alreadyworked a wondrous change in all my feelings. Instead of looking up tothe poor cure for advice and guidance, I felt as though our parts wereexchanged, and that it was I who was now the protector of the other. Theoft-repeated sneers at _les bons Pretres_, who were good for nothing,must have had a share in this new estimate of my friend, but a certainself-reliance just then springing up in my heart effectually completedthe change.

  The period was essentially one of action and not of reflection. Eventsseemed to fashion themselves at the will of him who had daring andcourage to confront them, and they alone appeared weak and poor-spiritedwho would not stem the tide of fortune. Sentiments like these were not,as may be supposed, best calculated to elevate the worthy pere in myesteem, and I already began to feel how unsuited was such companionshipfor me, whose secret promptings whispered ever, 'Go forward.'

  The very vagueness of my hopes served but to extend the horizon offuturity before me, and I fancied a thousand situations of distinctionthat might yet be mine. Fame--or its poor counterfeit, notoriety--seemedthe most enviable of all possessions. It mattered little by what meritsit was won, for, in that fickle mood of popular opinion, great viceswere as highly prized as transcendent abilities, and one might be asillustrious by crime as by genius. Such were not the teachings ofthe pere; but they were the lessons that Paris dinned into my earsunceasingly. Reputation, character, was of no avail, in a socialcondition where all was change and vacillation. What was idolised oneday was execrated the next day. The hero of yesterday was the objectof popular vengeance to-day. The success of the passing hour waseverything.

  The streets were crowded as I passed along; although a drizzling rainwas falling, groups and knots of people were gathered together at everycorner, and, by their eager looks and gestures, showed that some eventof great moment had occurred. I stopped to ask what it meant, andlearned that Robespierre had been denounced in the Assembly, and thathis followers were hastening, in arms, to the Place de Greve. As yet,men spoke in whispers, or broken phrases. Many were seen affectionatelyembracing and clasping each other's hands in passionate emotion; butfew dared to trust themselves to words, for none knew if the peril werereally passed, or if the power of the tyrant might not become greaterthan ever. While I yet listened to the tidings, which, in half-sentencesand broken words, reached my ears, the roll of drums, beating the_generale_, was heard, and suddenly the head of a column appeared,carrying torches, and seated upon ammunition-waggons and caissons, andchanting in wild chorus the words of the 'Marseillaise.' On they came,a terrible host of half-naked wretches, their heads bound inhandkerchiefs, and their brawny arms bare to the shoulders.

  The artillery of the Municipale followed, many of the magistrates ridingamongst them dressed in the tricoloured scarfs of officers. As theprocession advanced, the crowds receded, and gradually the streets wereleft free to the armed force.

  While, terror-struck, I continued to gaze at the countenances overwhich the lurid torchlight cast a horrid glare, a strong hand grasped mycollar, and by a jerk swung me up to a seat on one of the caissons; andat the same time a deep voice said, 'Come, youngster, this is more inthy way than mine,' and a black-bearded _sapeur_ pushed a drum beforeme, and ordered me to beat the _generale_. Such was the din and uproarthat my performance did not belie my uniform, and I beat away manfully,scarcely sorry, amid all my fears, at the elevated position from which Inow surveyed the exciting scene around me.

  As we passed, the shops were closed on either side in haste, and acrossthe windows of the upper storeys beds and mattresses were speedilydrawn, in preparation for the state of siege now so imminent. Lightsflickered from room to room, and all betokened a degree of alarm andterror. Louder and louder pealed the 'Marseillaise,' as the columnsdeployed into the open Place, from which every street and lanenow poured its crowds of armed men. The line was now formed by theartillery, which, to the number of sixteen pieces, ranged from end toend of the square, the dense crowd of horse and foot forming behind, themass dimly lighted by the waving torches that here and there marked thepresence of an officer. Gradually the sounds of the 'Marseillaise' grewfainter and fainter, and soon a dreary silence pervaded that variedhost, more terrible now, as they stood speechless, than in all thetumultuous din of the wildest uproar. Meanwhile, from the streets whichopened into the Place at the farthest ends, the columns of the NationalGuard began to move up, the leading files carrying torches; behindthem came ten pieces of artillery, which, as they issued, were speedilyplaced in battery, and flanked by the heavy dragoons of the Guard; andnow, in breathless silence, the two forces stood regarding each other,the cannoniers with lighted matches in their hands, the dragoons firmlyclasping their sabres--all but waiting for the word to plunge into thedeadliest strife. It was a terrible moment--the slightest stir in theranks--the rattling of a horse's panoply--the clank of a sabre--fellupon the heart like the toll of a death-bell. It was then that two orthree horsemen were seen to advance from the troops of the Convention,and, approaching the others, were speedily lost among their ranks. Alow and indistinct murmur ran along the lines, which each momentgrew louder, till at last it burst forth into a cry of '_Vive laConvention!_' Quitting their ranks, the men gathered around a general ofthe National Guard, who addressed them in words of passionate eloquence,but of which I was too distant to hear anything. Suddenly the ranksbegan to thin; some were seen to pile their arms, and move away insilence; others marched across the Place, and took up their positionbeside the troops of the National Guard; of the cannoniers, many threwdown their matches, and extinguished the flame with their feet, whileothers 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 allthat went forward so eagerly, that I never noticed the departure of mycompanions, nor perceived that I was left by myself. I know not how muchlater this discovery might have been deferred to me had not an officerof the Guard ridden up to where I was, and said, 'Move up, move up, mylad; keep close to the battery.' He pointed at the same time with hissabre in the direction where a number of guns and carriages were alreadyproceeding.

  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 properplaces, soon found myself in the line, which now drew up in the rear ofthe artillery of the Guard, separated from the front by a great mass ofhorse and foot. I knew nothing of what went forward in the Place;from what I gathered, however, I could learn that the artillery wasin position, the matches burning, and everything in readiness for acannonade. Thus we remained for above an hour, when the order was givento march. Little knew I that, in that brief interval, the whole fortunesof France--ay, of humanity itself--had undergone a mighty change--thatthe terrible reign of blood, the tyranny of Robespierre, had closed,and that he who had sent so many to the scaffold now lay bleeding andmutilated upon the very table where he had signed the death-warrants.

  The day was just beginning to dawn as we entered the barracks of theConciergerie, and drew up in a double line along its spacious square.The men dismounted, and stood 'at ease,' awaiting the arrival of thestaff of the National Guard, which, it was said, was coming; and now thethought occurred to me of what I should best do, whether make my escapewhile it was yet time, or remain to see by what accident I had comethere. If a sense of duty to the Pere Michel urged me on one side, theglimmering hope of some opening to fortune swayed me on the other. Itried to persuade myself that my fate was bound up with his, and thathe should be my guide through the wild waste before me; but theseconvictions could not stand against the very scene in which I stood. Theglorious panoply of war--the harnessed team--the helmeted dragoon--theproud stee
d in all the trappings of battle! How faint were the pleadingsof duty against such arguments! The pere, too, designed me for a priest.The life of a seminarist in a convent was to be mine! I was to wear thered gown and the white cape of an acolyte!--to be taught how to swing acenser, or snuff the candles of the high altar--to be a train-bearerin a procession, or carry a relic in a glass-case! The hoarse bray of atrumpet that then rung through the court routed these ignoble fancies,and as the staff rode proudly in, my resolve was taken. I was determinedto be a soldier.

  The day, I have said, was just breaking, and the officers wore theirdark-grey capotes over their uniforms. One, however, had his coat partlyopen, and I could see the blue and silver beneath, which, tarnished andworn 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 showedthat he was the chief of the staff. This was General Lacoste, at thattime _en mission_ from the army of the Rhine, and now sent by theConvention to report upon the state of events among the troops. Slowlypassing along the line, the old general halted before each gun, pointingout to his staff certain minutiae, which, from his gestures and manner,it was easy to see were not the subject of eulogy. Many of the pieceswere ill slung, and badly balanced on the trucks; the wheels, in somecases, were carelessly put on, their tires worn, and the iron shoeingdefective. The harnessing, too, was patched and mended in a slovenlyfashion; the horses lean and out of condition; the drivers awkward andinexperienced.

  'This is all bad, gentlemen,' said he, addressing the officers, but in atone to be easily heard all around him, 'and reflects but little creditupon the state of your discipline in the capital. We have been nowseventeen months in the field before the enemy, and not idle either; andyet I would take shame to myself if the worst battery in our artillerywere not better equipped, better horsed, better driven, and betterserved, than any I see here.'

  One who seemed a superior officer here appeared to interpose someexplanation or excuse, but the general would not listen to him, andcontinued his way along the line--passing around which he now enteredthe space between the guns and the caissons. At last he stopped directlyin front of where I was, and fixed his dark and penetrating eyessteadily on me. Such was their fascination that I could not look fromhim, but continued to stare as fixedly at him.

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  'Look here, for instance,' cried he, as he pointed to me with hissword, 'is that _gamin_ yonder like an artillery-driver? or is it to adrummer-boy you intrust the caisson of an eight-pounder gun? Dismount,sirrah, and come hither,' cried he to me, in a voice that sounded likean order for instant execution. 'This popinjay dress of yours must havebeen the fancy of some worthy shopkeeper of the 'Quai Lepelletier'; itnever could belong to any regular corps. Who are you?'

  'Maurice Tiernay, sir,' said I, bringing my hand to my cap in militarysalute.

  'Maurice Tiernay,' repeated he, slowly, after me. 'And have you no moreto say for yourself than your name?'

  'Very little, sir,' said I, taking courage from the difficulty in whichI 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 hissnuff-box to cover his confusion; the next moment, however, he hadregained his self-possession, and continued: 'And since that event--Imean since you lost your father--what have you been doing? How have yousupported yourself?'

  'In various ways, sir, said I, with a shrug of the shoulders, to implythat the answer was too tedious to listen to. 'I have studied to be apriest, 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 asoldier?'

  'Even so, sir,' said I easily. 'It was a mere accident that mounted meupon this caisson, but I am quite ready to believe that Fortune intendedme 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 aplace for you, where, if you cannot serve the Republic better, youwill, at least, do her less injury than as a driver in her artillery.Bertholet, let him be enrolled in your detachment of the gendarme, andgive him my address--I wish to speak to him to-morrow.'

  'At what hour, general?' said I promptly.

  'At eight, or half-past--after 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 othersmiled, and said, 'Let him come somewhat earlier--say eight o'clock.'

  'You hear that, boy?' said the aide-de-camp to me, while with aslight gesture he intimated that I might retire. Then, as if suddenlyremembering that he had not given me the address of the general, he tooka scrap of crumpled paper from his pocket-book, and wrote a few wordshastily on it with his pencil. 'There,' cried he, throwing it towardsme, 'there is your billet for this day, at least.' I caught the scrapof paper, and, after deciphering the words, perceived that they werewritten on the back of an assignat for forty sous.

  It was a large sum to one who had not wherewithal to buy a morsel ofbread; and as I looked at it over and over, I fancied there would be noend to the pleasures such wealth could purchase. I can breakfast onthe Quai Voltaire, thought I--ay, and sumptuously too, with coffee andchestnuts, and a slice of melon, and another of cheese, and a _petitegoutte_ to finish, for five sous. The panther, at the corner of thePont Neuf, costs but a sou; and for three one can see the brown bearof America, the hyaena, and another beast whose name I forget, but whoseimage, as he is represented outside, carrying off a man in his teeth, Ishall 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 aterrible-looking soldier in a red cap and a tricoloured scarf. Afterthat, there's the parade at the 'Carrousel'; and mayhap something moresolemn still at the 'Greve'; but there was no limit to the throng ofenjoyments which came rushing to my imagination, and it was in a kind ofecstasy of delight I set forth on my voyage of pleasure.