Kitabı oku: «Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune», sayfa 38

It was thus I rode into Wangheim, saluting the people as I passed up the street, and with the short dry greeting of ‘Tag,’ and a nod as brief, playing Tyroler to the top of my bent. The ‘Syndicus,’ or the ruler of the village, lived in a good-sized house in the ‘Platz,’ which, being market-day, was crowded with people, although the articles for sale appeared to include little variety, almost every one leading a calf by a straw rope, the rest of the population contenting themselves with a wild turkey, or sometimes two, which, held under the arms, added the most singular element to the general concert of human voices around. Little stalls for rustic jewellery and artificial flowers, the latter in great request, ran along the sides of the square, with here and there a booth where skins and furs were displayed – more, however, as it appeared, to give pleasure to a group of sturdy Jagers, who stood around, recognising the track of their own bullets, than from any hope of sale. In fact, the business of the day was dull, and an experienced eye would have seen at a glance that turkeys were ‘heavy,’ and calves ‘looking down.’ No wonder that it should be so, the interest of the scene being concentrated on a little knot of some twenty youths, who, with tickets containing a number in their hats, stood before the syndic’s door. They were fine-looking, stalwart, straight fellows, and became admirably the manly costume of their native mountains; but their countenances were not without an expression of sadness, the reflection, as I soon saw, of the sadder faces around them. For so they stood, mothers, sisters, and sweethearts, their tearful eyes turned on the little band. It puzzled me not a little at first to see these evidences of a conscription in a land where hitherto the population had answered the call to arms by a levy en masse, while the air of depression and sadness seemed also strange in those who gloried in the excitement of war. The first few sentences I overheard revealed the mystery. Wangheim was Bavarian; although strictly a Tyrol village, and Austrian Tyrol, too, it had been included within the Bavarian frontier, and the orders had arrived from Munich at the Syndicate to furnish a certain number of men by a certain day. This was terrible tidings; for although they did not as yet know that the war was against Austria, they had heard that the troops were for foreign service, and not for the defence of home and country, the only cause which a Tyroler deems worthy of battle. As I listened, I gathered that the most complete ignorance prevailed as to the service or the destination to which they were intended. The Bavarians had merely issued their mandates to the various villages of the border, and neither sent emissaries nor officers to carry them out. Having seen how the ‘land lay,’ I pushed my way through the crowd, into the hall of the Syndicate, and by dint of a strong will and stout shoulder, at length gained the audience-chamber, where, seated behind an elevated bench, the great man was dispensing justice. I advanced boldly, and demanded an immediate audience in private, stating that my business was most pressing, and not admitting of delay. The syndic consulted for a second or two with his clerk, and retired, beckoning me to follow.

‘You’re not a Tyroler,’ said he to me, the moment we were alone.

‘That is easy to see, Herr Syndicus,’ replied I. ‘I’m an officer of the staff, in disguise, sent to make a hasty inspection of the frontier villages, and report upon the state of feeling that prevails amongst them, and how they stand affected towards the cause of Bavaria.’

‘And what have you found, sir?’ said he, with native caution; for a Bavarian Tyroler has the quality in a perfection that neither a Scotchman nor a Russian can pretend to.

‘That you are all Austrian at heart,’ said I, determined to dash at him with a frankness that I knew he could not resist. ‘There’s not a Bavarian amongst you. I have made the whole tour of the Vorarlberg – through the Bregenzer-wald, down the valley of the Lech, by Immenstadt, and Wangheim – and it’s all the same. I have heard nothing but the old cry of “Gott und der Kaiser!”’

‘Indeed!’ said he, with an accent beautifully balanced between sorrow and astonishment.

‘Even the men in authority, the syndics, like yourself, have frankly told me how difficult it is to preserve allegiance to a Government by whom they have been so harshly treated. ‘I’m sure I have the “grain question,” as they call it, and the “Freiwechsel” with South Tyrol, off by heart,’ said I, laughing. ‘However, my business lies in another quarter. I have seen enough to show me that save the outcasts from home and family, that class so rare in the Tyrol, that men call adventurers, we need look for no willing recruits here; and you’ll stare when I say that I ‘m glad of it – heartily glad of it.’

The syndic did, indeed, stare, but he never ventured a word in reply.

‘I’ll tell you why, then, Herr Syndicus. With a man like yourself one can afford to be open-hearted. Wangheim, Luttrich, Kempenfeld, and all the other villages at the foot of these mountains, were never other than Austrian. Diplomatists and map-makers coloured them pale blue, but they were black and yellow underneath; and what’s more to the purpose, Austrian they must become again. When the real object of this war is known, all Tyrol will declare for the House of Hapsburg. We begin to perceive this ourselves, and to dread the misfortunes and calamities that must fall upon you and the other frontier towns by this divided allegiance; for when you have sent off your available youth to the Bavarians, down will come Austria to revenge itself upon your undefended towns and villages.’

The syndic apparently had thought of all these things exactly with the same conclusions, for he shook his head gravely, and uttered a low, faint sigh.

‘I’m so convinced of what I tell you,’ said I, ‘that no sooner have I conducted to headquarters the force I have under my command – ’

‘You have a force, then, actually under your orders?’ cried he, starting.

‘The advanced guard is picketed in yonder pine wood, if you have any curiosity to inspect them; you’ll find them a little disorderly, perhaps, like all newly-raised levies, but I hope not discreditable allies for the great army.’

The syndic protested his sense of the favour, but begged to take all their good qualities on trust.

I then went on to assure him that I should recommend the Government to permit the range of frontier towns to preserve a complete neutrality; by scarcely any possibility could the war come to their doors; and that there was neither sound policy nor humanity in sending them to seek it elsewhere. I will not stop to recount all the arguments I employed to enforce my opinions, nor how learnedly I discussed every question of European politics. The syndic was amazed at the vast range of my acquirements, and could not help confessing it.

My interview ended by persuading him not to send on his levies of men till he had received further instructions from Munich; to supply my advanced guards with the rations and allowances intended for the others; and lastly, to advance me the sum of one hundred and seventy crown thalers, on the express pledge that the main body of my ‘marauders,’ as I took opportunity to style them, should take the road by Kempen and Durcheim, and not touch on the village of Wangheim at all.

When discussing this last point, I declared to the syndic that he was depriving himself of a very imposing sight; that the men, whatever might be said of them in point of character, were a fine-looking, daring set of rascals, neither respecting laws nor fearing punishment, and that our band, for a newly-formed one, was by no means contemptible. He resisted all these seducing prospects, and counted down his dollars with the air of a man who felt he had made a good bargain. I gave him a receipt in all form, and signed Maurice Tiernay at the foot of it as stoutly as though I had the Grand Livre de France at my back.

Let not the reader rashly condemn me for this fault, nor still more rashly conclude that I acted with a heartless and unprincipled spirit in this transaction. I own that a species of Jesuistry suggested the scheme, and that while providing for the exigencies of my own comrades, I satisfied my conscience by rendering a good service in return. The course of war, as I suspected it would, did sweep past this portion of the Bavarian Tyrol without inflicting any heavy loss. Such of the peasantry as joined the army fought under Austrian banners, and Wangheim and the other border villages had not to pay the bloody penalty of a divided allegiance. I may add, too, for conscience’ sake, that while travelling this way many years after, I stopped a day at Wangheim to point out its picturesque scenery to a fair friend who accompanied me. The village inn was kept by an old, venerable-looking man, who also discharged the functions of Vorsteher– the title Syndicus was abolished. He was, although a little cold and reserved at first, very communicative after a while, and full of stories of the old campaigns of France and Austria; amongst which he related one of a certain set of French freebooters that once passed through Wangheim, the captain having actually breakfasted with himself, and persuaded him to advance a loan of nigh two hundred thalers on the faith of the Bavarian Government.

‘He was a good-looking, dashing sort of fellow,’ said he, ‘that could sing French love-songs to the piano and jodle Tyroler Lieder for the women. My daughter took a great fancy to him, and wore his sword-knot for many a day after, till we found that he had cheated and betrayed us. Even then, however, I don’t think she gave him up, though she did not speak of him as before. This is the fellow’s writing,’ added he, producing a much-worn and much-crumpled scrap of paper from his old pocket-book, ‘and there’s his name. I have never been able to make out clearly whether it was Thierray or Iierray.’

‘I know something about him,’ said I, ‘and, with your permission, will keep the document and pay the debt. Your daughter is alive still?’

‘Ay, and married, too, at Bruck, ten miles from this.’

‘Well, if she has thrown away the old sword-knot, tell her to accept this one in memory of the French captain, who was not, at least, an ungrateful rogue’; and I detached from my sabre the rich gold tassel and cord which I wore as a general officer.

This little incident I may be pardoned for interpolating from a portion of my life of which I do not intend to speak further, as with the career of the Soldier of Fortune I mean to close these memoirs of Maurice Tiernay.

CHAPTER XLIX. A LUCKY MEETING

The reader will probably not complain if, passing over the manifold adventures and hair-breadth ‘scapes of my little party, I come to our arrival at Ingoldstadt, where the headquarters of General Vandamme were stationed. It was just as the recall was beating that we rode into the town, where, although nearly eight thousand men were assembled, our somewhat singular cavalcade attracted no small share of notice. Fresh rations for ‘man and beast’ slung around our very ragged clothing, and four Austrian grenadiers tied by a cord, wrist to wrist, as prisoners behind us, we presented, it must be owned, a far more picturesque than soldierlike party.

Accepting all the attentions bestowed upon us in the most flattering sense, and affecting not to perceive the ridicule we were exciting on every hand, I rode up to the état-major and dismounted. I had obtained from ‘my prisoners’ what I deemed a very important secret, and was resolved to make the most of it by asking for an immediate audience of the general.

‘I am the officier d ordonnance,’ said a young lieutenant of dragoons, stepping forward; ‘any communications you have to make must be addressed to me.’

‘I have taken four prisoners, Monsieur le lieutenant,’ said I, ‘and would wish to inform General Vandamme on certain matters they have revealed to me.’

‘Are you in the service?’ asked he, with a glance at my incongruous equipment.

‘I have served, sir,’ was my reply.

‘In what army of brigands was it, then?’ said he, laughing, ‘for, assuredly, you do not recall to my recollection any European force that I know of.’

‘I may find leisure and inclination to give you the fullest information on this point at another moment, sir; for the present, my business is more pressing. Can I see General Vandamme?’

‘Of course you cannot, my worthy fellow! If you had served, as you say you have, you could scarcely have made so absurd a request. A French general of division does not give audience to every tatterdemalion who picks up a prisoner on the highroad.’

‘It is exactly because I have served that I do make the request,’ said I stoutly.

‘How so, pray?’ asked he, staring at me.

‘Because I know well how often young staff-officers, in their self-sufficiency, overlook the most important points, and, from the humble character of their informants, frequently despise what their superiors, had they known it, would have largely profited by. And, even if I did not know this fact, I have the memory of another one scarcely less striking, which was, that General Masséna himself admitted me to an audience when my appearance was not a whit more imposing than at present.’

‘You knew General Masséna, then? Where was it, may I ask?’

‘In Genoa, during the siege.’

‘And what regiment have you served in?’

‘The Ninth Hussars.’

‘Quite enough, my good fellow. The Ninth were on the Sambre while that siege was going on,’ said he, laughing sarcastically.

‘I never said that my regiment was at Genoa. I only asserted that I was,’ was my calm reply, for I was anxious to prolong the conversation, seeing that directly over our heads, on a balcony, a number of officers had just come out to smoke their cigars after dinner, amongst whom I recognised two or three in the uniform of generals.

‘And now for your name; let us have that,’ said he, seating himself, as if for a lengthy cross-examination.

I stole a quick glance overhead, and seeing that two of the officers were eagerly listening to our colloquy, said aloud —

‘I’ll tell you no more, sir. You have already heard quite enough to know what my business is. I didn’t come here to relate my life and adventures.’

‘I say, Lestocque,’ cried a large, burly man, from above, ‘have you picked up Robinson Crusoe, there?’

‘He’s far more like the man Friday, mon général,’ said the young lieutenant, laughing, ‘although even a savage might have more deference for his superiors.’

‘What does he want, then?’ asked the other.

‘An audience of yourself, mon général– nothing less.’

‘Have you told him how I am accustomed to reward people who occupy my time on false pretences, Lestocque?’ said the general, with a grin. ‘Does he know that the “Salle de Police” first, and the “Prévôt” afterwards, comprise my gratitude?’

‘He presumes to say, sir, that he knows General Masséna,’ said the lieutenant.

‘Diable! He knows me, does he say – he knows me? Who is he – what is he?’ said a voice I well remembered; and at the same instant the brown, dark visage of General Masséna peered over the balcony.

‘He’s a countryman of yours, Masséna,’ said Vandamme, laughing. ‘Eh, are you not a Piémontais?’

Up to this moment I had stood silently listening to the dialogue around me, without the slightest apparent sign of noticing it. Now, however, as I was directly addressed, I drew myself up to a soldierlike attitude, and replied —

‘No, sir. I am more a Frenchman than General Vandamme, at least.’

‘Send that fellow here; send him up, Lestocque, and have a corporal’s party ready for duty,’ cried the general, as he threw the end of his cigar into the street, and walked hastily away.

It was not the first time in my life that my tongue had brought peril on my head; but I ascended the stairs with a firm step, and if not with a light, at least with a resolute, heart, seeing how wonderfully little I had to lose, and that few men had a smaller stake in existence than myself.

The voices were loud, and in tones of anger, as I stepped out upon the terrace.

‘So we are acquaintances, it would appear, my friend?’ said Masséna, as he stared fixedly at me.

‘If General Masséna cannot recall the occasion of our meeting,’ said I proudly, ‘I ‘ll scarcely remind him of it.’

‘Come, come,’ said Vandamme angrily, ‘I must deal with this gaillard myself. Are you a French soldier?’

‘I was, sir – an officer of cavalry.’

‘And were you broke? did you desert? or what was it?’ cried he impatiently.

‘I kept better company than I believe is considered safe in these days, and was accidentally admitted to the acquaintance of the Prince de Condé – ’

‘That’s it!’ said Vandamme, with a long whistle; ‘that’s the mischief, then. You are a Vendéan?’

‘No, sir; I was never a Royalist, although, as I have said, exposed to the very society whose fascinations might have made me one.’

‘Your name is Tiernay, monsieur, or I mistake much?* said a smart-looking young man in civilian dress.

I bowed in assent, without expressing any sentiment of either fear or anxiety.

‘I can vouch for the perfect accuracy of that gentleman’s narrative,’ said Monsieur de Bourrienne, for I now saw it was himself. ‘You may possibly remember a visitor – ’

‘At the Temple,’ said I, interrupting him. ‘I recollect you perfectly, sir, and thank you for this recognition.’

Monsieur de Bourrienne, however, did not pay much attention to my gratitude, but proceeded, in a few hurried words, to give some account of me to the bystanders.

‘Well, it must be owned that he looks devilish unlike an officer of hussars,’ said Masséna, as he laughed, and made others laugh, at my strange equipment.

‘And yet you saw me in a worse plight, general,’ said I coolly.

‘How so – where was that?’ cried he.

‘It will be a sore wound to my pride, general,’ said I slowly, ‘if I must refresh your memory.’

‘You were not at Valenciennes,’ said he, musing. ‘No, no; that was before your day. Were you on the Meuse, then? No. Nor in Spain? I’ve always had hussars in my division, but I confess I do not remember all the officers.’

‘Will Genoa not give the clue, sir?’ said I, glancing at him a keen look.

‘Least of all,’ cried he. ‘The cavalry were with Soult. I had nothing beyond an escort in the town.’

‘So there’s no help for it,’ said I, with a sigh. ‘Do you remember a half-drowned wretch that was laid down at your feet in the Annunziata Church one morning during the siege?’

‘A fellow who had made his escape from the English fleet, and swam ashore? What I are you – By Jove! so it is, the very same. Give me your hand, my brave fellow. I’ve often thought of you, and wondered what had befallen you. You joined that unlucky attack on Monte Faccio; and we had warm work ourselves on hand the day after. I say, Vandamme, the first news I had of our columns crossing the Alps were from this officer – for officer he was, and shall be again, if I live to command a French division.’

Masséna embraced me affectionately, as he said this; and then turning to the others, said —

‘Gentlemen, you see before you the man you have often heard me speak of – a young officer of hussars, who, in the hope of rescuing a division of the French army, at that time shut up in a besieged city, performed one of the most gallant exploits on record. Within a week after he led a storming-party against a mountain fortress; and I don’t care if he lived in the intimacy of every Bourbon prince, from the Count D’Artois downwards, he’s a good Frenchman, and a brave soldier. Bourrienne, you’re starting for headquarters? Well, it is not at such a moment as this you can bear these matters in mind, but don’t forget my friend Tiernay; depend upon it, he’ll do you no discredit. The Emperor knows well both how to employ and how to reward such men as him.’

I heard these flattering speeches like one in a delicious dream. To stand in the midst of a distinguished group, while Masséna thus spoke of me, seemed too much for reality, for praise had indeed become a rare accident to me; but from such a quarter it was less eulogy than fame. How hard was it to persuade myself that I was awake, as I found myself seated at the table, with a crowd of officers, pledging the toasts they gave, and drinking bumpers in friendly recognition with all around me.

Such was the curiosity to hear my story, that numbers of others crowded into the room, which gradually assumed the appearance of a theatre. There was scarcely an incident to which I referred, that some one or other of those present could not vouch for; and whether I alluded to my earlier adventures in the Black Forest, or the expedition of Humbert, or to the latter scenes of my life, I met corroboration from one quarter or another. Away as I was from Paris and its influences, in the midst of my comrades, I never hesitated to relate the whole of my acquaintance with Fouché – a part of my narrative which, I must own, amused them more than all the rest. In the midst of all these intoxicating praises, and of a degree of wonder that might have turned wiser heads, I never forgot that I was in possession of what seemed to myself at least a very important military fact – no less than the mistaken movement of an Austrian general, who had marched his division so far to the southward as to leave an interval of several miles between himself and the main body of the Imperial forces. This fact I had obtained from the grenadiers I had made prisoners, and who were stragglers from the corps I alluded to.

The movement in question was doubtless intended to menace the right flank of our army, but every soldier of Napoleon well knew that so long as he could pierce the enemy’s centre such flank attacks were ineffectual, the question being already decided before they could be undertaken.

My intelligence, important as it appeared to myself, struck the two generals as of even greater moment; and Masséna, who had arrived only a few hours before from his own division to confer with Vandamme, resolved to take me with him at once to headquarters.

‘You are quite certain of what you assert, Tiernay?’ said he; ‘doubtful information, or a mere surmise, will not do with him before whom you will be summoned. You must be clear on every point, and brief – remember that – not a word more than is absolutely necessary.’

I repeated that I had taken the utmost precautions to assure myself of the truth of the men’s statement, and had ridden several leagues between the Austrian left and the left centre. The prisoners themselves could prove that they had marched from early morning till late in the afternoon without coming up with a single Austrian post.

The next question was to equip me with a uniform – but what should it be? I was not attached to any corps, nor had I any real rank in the army. Massena hesitated about appointing me on his own staff without authority, nor could he advise me to assume the dress of my old regiment. Time was pressing, and it was decided – I own to my great discomfiture – that I should continue to wear my Tyroler costume till my restoration to my former rank was fully established.

I was well tired, having already ridden thirteen leagues of a bad road, when I was obliged to mount once more, and accompany General Massena in his return to headquarters. A good supper, and some excellent Bordeaux, and, better than either, a light heart, gave me abundant energy; and after the first three or four miles of the way I felt as if I was equal to any fatigue.

As we rode along, the general repeated all his cautions to me in the event of my being summoned to give information at headquarters – the importance of all my replies being short, accurate, and to the purpose; and, above all, the avoidance of anything like an opinion or expression of my own judgment on passing events. I promised faithfully to observe all his counsels, and not bring discredit on his patronage.