Part 10

“By my soul! Sergeant, we had a throublesome job, I assure you. You know Andrews’s quarthers. Well, I was down there, taking tay with his wife, when the Sergeant-major came running down, and orther’d me out with my squad immajetly. So I had my men out while you’d say ‘thrapstick;’ an’ Liftinent Morris, of our company, with Sergeant M’Fadgen, myself, and twenty-five men, march’d off in the dark, along with two excisemen, down the narrow lane which lades towards the windmill. The lane was rough an’ muddy, an’ it was horrid dark; but the excisemen had lantherns in their pockets, which they pull’d out as soon as we were out o’ the town. When we got about a mile on, we filed off into a narrow path, which ran up the side o’ the hill, upon which that house that’s burning stands, an’ followed the excisemen in single files, through bushes an’ briars, like goats--climbing an’ slipping--till we came to a sort of open space, undther another hill; an’ from this we could see a gleam o’ twilight in the sky, as if the moon was just washing her face, to pay us a visit. Here we were halted, an’ orther’d to keep a sthrict silence. The excisemen shut up their lantherns. Ensign Morris now stooped down, to catch a glimpse o’ the house in front between him an’ the twilight; an’ then both he and the excisemen went on--down the slope o’ the hill. It got a little bit lighter, an’ we could see that the big stone house (more like a castle) was situated between us and another hill on our left, in a wide sloping place, and surrounded with fir-threes. There was no light at all in the windows. ’Pon my sowl, when I looked about at the dark scene, as it was--we dthrawn up undther a steep rock, an’ the roots o’ the big threes out over our heads,--all of us as silent as stones--I couldn’t help thinking o’ the night we were dthrawn up on the advanced posts in the Pyrenees, Sergeant,--just half an hour before the attack. Well--in about ten minutes, Liftinent Morris an’ the excisemen returned. Misther Morris immajetly addthress’d us in a sort o’ whisper, ‘Tention!’ says he. “Now, men, you are about to be employed in a juty which may call upon every individual of you to use his judgment and discretion. You may be required to spill the blood of your countrymen; but it is in support o’ the laws, and you are bound to do it, if necessity calls upon you. These revenue officers are going to make a sazure of a private still in that house, an’ in case our assistance is wanted, we must give it at all hazards; but to those men who will be posted by themselves, I have particularly to remark that they are to allow none to pass them--but, at the same time, not to fire, unless undther the most urgent circumstances. To those men undther my own eye, I say observe my ordthers--our object is to avoid bloodshed, but, at the same time, support the revenue officers in doing their juty.” He then ordthered Sergeant M’Fadgen to post two men at the pass we had just come down; and this being done, three more were sent round to about fifty yards distance, an’ posted at different points, while four others were placed at each flank o’ the big house on the side o’ the hill--all ordthered to allow nobody to pass in or out; an’ not to move from their posts till further ordthers, unless obliged by force. Ensign Morris then marched the remaining twelve, and the Sergeant and myself, down the slope for about a hundthred yards, an’ halted us undther cover o’ the wail, close to the gate o’ the house.

“The excisemen now went softly into the yard o’ the house--for there was no gate--an’ in about five minutes they came out again, to say that there were at least eight or ten men in the house--they saw through a crack in the wall. I must tell ye that the excisemen said they had been in the house twice, but it was in the day time, an’ if they were to be d----d for it, they could not find either still or one o’ the men,--it was so sacretly done between ’em; so they came to-night from information they had received, that a grate quantity o’ potyeen was to be sent out about twelve o’clock; an’ we were to wait ’till they began to load their cars with the stuff.--‘The cars are all harnessed,’ says one o’ the Excisemen, coming out o’ the yard, ’an’ I hard a dale o’ voices inside--so they will soon come out.’

“Here we waited for a little time, when a light from the door stramed out across the road through the gateway, and the excisemen got on their hands an’ feet, an’ kept watching the fellows coming out o’ the house to load the stuff. We heard the cars dthrawing up before the door, and in about five minutes the excisemen got up, and said that they would creep inside o’ the gate, an’ round the wall to the door, so as to get into the house before any alarm was given; an’ that the word “Captain!” roared out by one o’ them, would be the signal for our party to advance an’ support them. So in they crept, like cats, while the men were loading the cars: and we were expecting the signal every instant, when we sees a fellow’s head poking out o’ the gate: at first he didn’t see us, but walked softly out (I suppose to see was the ground clear), when he turned round an’ spies us, an’ immajetly bawled out, as loud as he could, ‘Murther! Dinis, shut the door; here’s the sodgers!’ The signal was instantly given; we didn’t mind the fellow at the gate, but advanced at double quick, right into the yard--Ensign Morris at our head. The door was open--a woman held a light, an’ was pulling in a man, while the excisemen were both knocked down like cocks before our faces. We were dthrawn up in line about ten yards from the door, while Ensign Morris ran forward, undther one o’ the horses’ heads, calling out he would fire if they would not surrendther; but the men were all in, an’ the door slapped right into his face, just as he was grabbing howld o’ one o’ them. You know Misther Morris is a slapping able fellow, that ought to be a Captain long ago--before he left Spain. The excisemen got up--not much worse o’ the wear--an’ Misther Morris ordthered me to remove the cars an’ horses, which we did to one side o’ the yard. He then called to the men to aim at the door when they got the word, and desired the Excisemen to pull out their lantherns, one of which he took, an’ threw the light on the door. “Now men:--ready--present--fire!” says he. Slap went a dozen bullets into the door. “Load!” was given, an’ the officer, with the Excisemen, went forward,--the men marched afther him,--ordthered to butt the door with their muskets; which they did: but neither the balls nor the butting had any effect whatever; for the door was as thick double oak as ever was; an’ well made too--one o’ the owld times.”

The prisoners smiled with satisfaction, as the Corporal observed upon the door.

“Well,” continued O’Callaghan, “we were dthrawn up a little distance from the house again, an’ another volley was sent right at one o’ the windows o’ the first floor. In went the wooden shutthers in smithereens about the ground, an’ slap comes a shot out at us. “Load!”--again--and again. Six men were ordthered to take post on our flank with the Sergeant, and the others with Misther Morris himself:--away went six bullets more into the same window, from the Sergeant’s party, while ours was ordthered to pop one by one, as Misther Morris directed. Another shot was now fired at us from the window, an’ knocked poor Hall head over heels.”

“What! is Hall killed?” demanded the Serjeant and the men of the guard.

“‘Faith! poor fellow he is--or all as one; the ball enthered his breast, an’ he was taken away to the surgeon with very little hopes o’ life.”

At this information of the Corporal’s there was a general murmur of regret.

O’Callaghan continued--“Misther Morris now says to the men, ‘Come--ready lads--an’ when the party on the other side fires, watch the window, while I throw the light right on it; which, when you see, fire at once--the whole of you.’ We then moved in the dark to six or eight paces farther out, an’ more in front. The smoke was now getting away--for a blast o’ wind just then came. In about a minuet or two, slap went the Serjeant’s party--a volley into the window. ‘Steady!’ says the Liftinent; ‘good aim lads’; an’ in less than a minuet he claps the light on the window. There was the fellow with a blundtherbush up to his shouldther, an’ he let fly just as we fired--the light was kept steady on him--I’m sure every man could see him. Rattle went the lead into him:--he jumped like a hopping ball up against the window top, an’ out fell his dead body across the ledge:--there he hung with his head an’ shoulders out. A most dthreadful cloud o’ smoke came now over the house, an’ almost stifled us; at which Misther Morris ordthered me to go round to the rear an’ see what was the matther. I went, an’ the sentheries there tould me the house was o’ fire--’faith! I soon saw it was; for the flames were bursting out o’ the windows; so I ran back to tell the Liftinent. We were all astonishment. What was to become o’ the men inside?

“There was no more firing from the party: the Serjeant was ordthered to remain at his post in front, with his six men, while Misther Morris an’ I ran round to the rear; but before we went, the flames came fleaking out of every window--even over the dead man that was lying stretched out over the ledge. It’s all up, thinks I, for they must ha’ spilt their potyeen, an’ set fire to it; otherwise the house could never be so suddenly in flames.

“Faith an’ you’re just right,” sneered the wounded prisoner; “We wasn’t a goin’ to let the d----d Exciseman taste a dthrop o’ it.”

“By my sowl! ye’re nice boys. I wish ye had been out at Badajoz, an’ may be ye’d ha’ had enough o’ such business,” said Corporal O’Callaghan, and then resumed his narrative. “Well,” said he, “we got round as fast as possible to the rear o’ the house, an’ just as we were approaching it, we sees the senthries--three o’ them--running towards the hill to stop three or four fellows who were galloping up it like monkies, an’ calling out that they would fire; while six or eight fellows made a rush by a hedge close to us, down the hill like devils, an’ we afther them--officer an’ all. I’m a good runner--an’ by my sowl! I could not do much with them fellows; they were like Leberacawns--we had scarcely time to wink our eyes, when they were gone--hooh! off they were like birds.”

“But didn’t Lieutenant Morris order you to fire, Corporal?” said Serjeant Dobson.

“Fire! not he. Why should he, Serjeant? You know what the Liftenant is,--he’ll not dthraw blood in such a case as that--the poor devils were running away. We couldn’t have much glory in killing one o’ them, I’m sure. One o’ the senthries fired though, an’ shot this nate-looking gentleman here getting up the hill, an’ made him prisoner; the other lad there fell right on his head and rowled down; so that he was also caught.”

“And is the house burnt?” demanded the Serjeant.

“Burnt!” replied O’Callaghan, “’faith it is--an’ well burnt too. It’s all in a hape o’ ruins. An’ afther all, the Exciseman didn’t get the still.”

“No, by J----s! they didn’t nor never will,” exclaimed the wounded prisoner with exultation.

“But what made you burn the house?” said Serjeant Dobson to the prisoner.

“I’ll say no more,” replied he; “it’s done now--an’ I’m not sorry; except for the brave fellow that lost his life.”

At this moment, the Sentry at the guard-house door challenged; and in a few seconds Lieutenant Morris with a magistrate of the town, and the gaoler, arrived. Handcuffs were placed upon the prisoner who was not wounded, and the Corporal with two men, were directed to take charge of the delinquents, and march them to gaol; which they did, accompanied by the Lieutenant, the magistrate, and the gaoler.

HOLY ORDERS.

“O! Father, must I then confess?”

They say that “a frank confession is good for the soul,” but who ever said it was good for a military _body_? Even the confessors themselves, enthusiastic as they may be about the salvation of souls, through the means of contrition and atonement, show but little disposition to trouble the army, or expect that the army will ever trouble them by kneeling at their confessionals. However, the military in France are subject to the civil laws; and, as a holy order has been issued from the Court of Charles X., imposing the necessity of confession as a preparatory step to the celebration of marriage, the soldier who wishes to enter into the bonds of Hymen, must, like his civil brethren, confess his naughty doings to his pastor. Without a certificate of having duly done this, he must be contented with single cursedness.

A Colonel who fought for France in the days of her triumph--a pupil of that revolutionary school which gave its best moral lesson in its downfall--presented himself at the house of the Priest who held the sacerdotal command of the town in which the _militaire_ was quartered, and informed him that he was desirous of entering into the married state next day; adding, that he wished to give his reverence the preference in the performance of the ceremony. _Monsieur le Prêtre_ bowed, and thanked the Colonel for the honour conferred upon him, and the hour was appointed for the marriage. The Colonel, not aware that anything more was officially required of him, than to present himself with his intended _cara esposa_, before the altar on the following day, was about to take his leave, when the Priest informed him that he must confess before he could be eligible to the dignity of wearing the matrimonial collar.--Only fancy a tall, bony, mustachioed Colonel of French Infantry, about forty-five years of age--a sort of half devil, half republican,--with ear-rings and bald temples--a ruddy brown face, that spoke of many a hot sun and strong vintage--with an eye like Mars, and an air like Robin Hood:--only fancy such a man called upon by a Priest, to kneel down and confess his sins in an audible voice, that he might be qualified to enter into the holy state of marriage;--and then fancy his gaze of astonishment at the holy man’s summons! For such a rough personage as this was the Colonel;--a fellow who, during his military life, had little to do with priests, except to lay them under contribution, and knew no more about the merits of confession than he did about the Evidences of Christianity, or the Decalogue itself.

“_Sacre!_” replied the Colonel; “What’s the meaning of this? Confession! what have I to do with confession?”

The Priest, who was a man as liberal as might be, consistent with his office, informed the Colonel that by a late law, no marriage could be celebrated in France between Catholics, unless the parties had first obtained a certificate of confession; but gave him to understand that he would make it easy to him.

“_Eh bien!_--very well, very well,” said the Colonel; “but what am I to do?”

“Very little, very little. Merely sit down, and tell me what sins you have committed in your life-time.”

“_Parbleu!_” replied the Colonel; “How am I to do that? I don’t know that I ever did any great harm.”

“Well then,” returned the Priest, “merely speak to the best of your recollection.”

Here he gave the Colonel his benediction.

“I never injured any one in my life--except, perhaps, running a few dozen Prussians and Spaniards through the body.--I have killed a few Englishmen too.”

“_Ce n’est rien!_ that’s nothing.”

“I assisted in pillaging several towns, and burnt one or two villages.”

“_Ce n’est rien!_ that’s nothing at all.”

“I have sometimes had an affair with the ladies.”

“_Oh, pour cela, ce n’est rien--ce n’est rien!_ All in the way of your profession. Did you ever kill a priest?”

“No!--I--a--a--don’t think I ever _killed_ one.”

“Very well--very well! Did you ever assault a nun?”

“O never,--no necessity! Always found the nuns very agreeable women.”

“You never robbed a church, Colonel?”

“We melted down the golden candlesticks, and removed a few of the pictures; but this was by our General’s orders.”

“You did not rob anybody?”

“Never--except the Spaniards and Portuguese.--O--yes, we did a little amongst the Prussians.”

“Ah! that was, as I said before, merely in the way of your profession. Very good--very good, Colonel, I think that will do. Now I will give you absolution, and your certificate of purity.”

The Colonel received the paper, and was about to depart, when the Priest informed him that there was something more to be done:--A small fee was necessary. The Colonel cheerfully put his hand in his pocket, and presented the clergyman with two Napoleons, one of which his reverence returned, observing that he was amply remunerated for his trouble by the other. “Yet,” said he, “there is something more to be done: you must have a mass celebrated, to complete the marriage and render it legal.”

“_Parbleu!_ mass!” exclaimed the Colonel, “what is the use of mass to me?”

He was again told that it was necessary, and he agreed to have it performed; “But,” said he, “what is the expense?”

“You can have it done in a superior manner--full high-mass--for two hundred francs.”

“_Ah, mon Dieu!_ two hundred francs! what!--for a mass?”

“Yes; but, Colonel, you can have it done so low as ten francs.”

“Can I?” said the Colonel, “and is the ten franc-mass equally good in point of law, with that for two hundred?”

“Yes, Colonel; but not so respectable.”

“_Sacre!_ never mind the respectability of the matter; I’l have ten francs worth of mass--that will do for me.”

The marriage was accordingly celebrated next day in due form, the Colonel having purchased the confessor’s certificate and ten francs worth of mass; and he solemnly declared, on the day after his wedding, that he could not have felt more happy, even if he had purchased the highest priced mass in France.[11]

A LITTLE CONSEQUENCE;

OR, A

SMALL DIFFERENCE IN RIGHT TO QUARTERS.

My consequence--my consequence--my consequence!

MUNDEN’s _Sir Anthony Absolute_

A certain little gentleman attached to the army of Lord Wellington, while on the march in Portugal, once took up his quarters in the best house he could find, and having seen his horses well put up in the rear of it, retired to the best apartment to indulge himself in a cup of coffee; which luxury, with many others, he was, from the nature of his situation, enabled to carry with him, while others, his superiors, were obliged to put up with what they could procure _en passant_. Scarcely had his _rapaz_ drawn off his boots and re-covered his feet with slippers, when it was announced to him, that an officer was below examining the stables, and had ordered his horses to be put up in them--that the officer’s baggage was already unloading at the door of the house--and that the officer himself had selected the quarters in preference to any other in the village.

The slippered possessor, in all the consequence of his _grade_, immediately determined that no man should turn him out of his quarters, unless he could establish fully a claim to a rank superior to his own--and that too pretty clearly; in which resolution he began to stride across the chamber with becoming dignity. At this moment the officer in question entered the apartment, and proceeded to inspect its conveniencies without observing the occupier, who with three formidable strides approached the intruder, and demanded what he wanted: which question was answered by the officer’s saying, that he wished to have the quarters in which he then stood.

“You shall _not_ have them, Sir,” replied the little gentleman; (he was about four feet four inches in height; but a very respectable and dapper member of the army.) “You shall not have them, Sir--I am determined on that.”

“Pray Sir,” demanded the stranger with astonishment, “may I be permitted to inquire what is your _rank_ in the army?”

“_My_ rank, Sir,” replied the little disputant, considerably irritated; “_my_ rank, Sir!”--At this moment he put his two hands into his side pockets in a style that perfectly astonished the listener--“I am, Sir--since you must know my rank--I am, Sir, MR. LEWIS, APOTHECARY TO THE FORCES!”

“Indeed!” replied the stranger, “that rank, I presume, in taking quarters is equivalent to a Lieutenant’s?”

“Yes, Sir, it is, Sir,” rejoined the Apothecary to the Forces; “and now, Sir, let me ask you, Sir, what is _your_ rank, Sir?”

“The only difference between our respective ranks is this,” said the stranger, “that you are Apothecary to the Forces;--I am _Commander-in-Chief_ of the same forces; and now, Sir, I order you, to be out of these quarters in half an hour!”

The tiny gentleman stared; and with the most polite and submissive bow, (when he had recovered from the consternation into which the explanation had thrown him,) pulled out his watch and said, “_Half an hour?_ your lordship--_half an hour?_ that’s very short notice indeed:--say _thirty-five_ minutes, and it shall be done.”

The Commander-in-Chief nodded assent, and laughing heartily, left the little gentleman to take _his own time_ in removing.

THE HUSSAR AND THE COMMISSARY;

OR,

“MY COUSIN,” THE MARQUIS.

It is an even chance That bridegrooms, after they are fairly _groom’d_, May retrograde a little in the _dance_.

BYRON.

That “_a cobler should stick to his last_,” is a homely old saying, of infinite worth, were men to act upon the spirit which it inculcates; but, unfortunately, like many other wholesome things, it is too often rejected as unpalatable, if not neglected altogether. The danger of the infraction of this maxim, however, has been proved by men of every grade, from the highest to the lowest--from Cobler Buonaparte down to Cobler Cobbett--the one marched to Russia, and lost the world by it; the other trudged to Windsor, and gained but a laugh for his pains. Ambition is at the bottom of all this: that passion which killed alike the Roman Cato and the London Daw. The one slew himself that he might not witness his rival’s success; the other died of grief because he could not bear to see his _walk_ upon the stage usurped by an understrapper. Poor Daw had played for many years the fore leg of the elephant in Blue Beard with _éclat_--he was the _original_ leg; and it broke his heart to find himself thrown into the background, by being obliged to take the _hind_,[12] instead of his foremost character. But this is a digression; let us return to our adage--“A cobler should stick to his last,” and proceed to an illustration of it in an affair which happened at Lisbon, in 1813.