When my eyes opened the following morning, it was quite pardonable in me
if I believed I was still dreaming. The room, which I had scarcely time
to look at the previous evening, now appeared handsomely, almost richly
furnished. Books in handsome bindings covered the shelves, prints in
gilded frames occupied the walls, and a large mirror filled the space
above the chimney. Various little articles of taste, in bronze and
marble, were scattered about, and a silver tea equipage of antique
pattern graced a small table near the fire. A pair of splendidly mounted
pistols hung at one side of the chimney glass, and a gorgeously gilt
sabre occupied the other.
While I took a patient survey of all these, and was deliberately
examining myself as to how and when I had first made their acquaintance,
a voice from an adjoining room, the door of which lay open, exclaimed,--
“_Sacristi! quel mauvais temps!_” and then broke out into a little
French air, to which, after a minute, the singer appeared to move, in a
kind of dancing measure. “Qui, c'est ça!” exclaimed he, in rapture, as
he whirled round in a pirouette, overturning a dressing-table and its
contents with a tremendous crash upon the floor.
I started up, and without thinking of what I was doing, rushed in.
“Ha! bonjour,” said he, gayly, stretching out two fingers of a hand
almost concealed beneath a mass of rings. And then suddenly changing to
English, which he spoke perfectly, saving with a foreign accent,--“How
did you sleep? I suppose the _tintamarre_ awoke you.”
I hastened to apologize for my intrusion; which he stopped at once by
asking if I had passed a comfortable night, and had a great appetite for
breakfast.
Assuring him of both facts, I retreated into the sitting room, where he
followed me, laughing heartily at his mishap, which he confessed he
had not patience to remedy. “And what 's worse,” added he; “I have no
servant. But here 's some tea and coffee; let us chat while we eat.”
I drew over my chair at his invitation, and found myself--before half
an hour went by--acted on by that strange magnetism which certain
individuals possess, to detail to my new friend the principal events
of my simple story, down to the very moment in which we sat opposite to
each other. He listened to me with the greatest attention, occasionally
interposing a question, or asking an explanation of something which he
did not perfectly comprehend; and when I concluded, he paused for some
minutes, and then, with a slight laugh, said:--
“You don't know how you disappointed the people here. Your travelling
companion had given them to understand that you were some other Burke,
whose alliance they have been long desiring. In fact, they were certain
of it; but,” said he, starting up hastily, “it is far better as it is.
I suspect, my young friend, the way in which you have been entrapped.
Don't fear; we are perfectly safe here. I know all the hackneyed
declamations about wrongs and slavery that are in vogue; and I know,
too, how timidly they shrink from every enterprise by which their cause
might be honorably, boldly asserted. I am myself another victim to the
assumed patriotism of this party. I came over here two years since to
take the command. A command,--but in what an army! An undisciplined
rabble, without arms, without officers, without even clothes; their only
notion of warfare, a midnight murder, or a reckless and indiscriminate
slaughter. The result could not be doubtful,--utter defeat and
discomfiture. My countrymen, disgusted at the scenes they witnessed, and
ashamed of such _confrerie_; accepted the amnesty, and returned to France.
I--”
Here he hesitated, and blushed slightly; after which he resumed:--
“I yielded to a credulity for which there was neither reason nor excuse:
I remained. Promises were made me, oaths were sworn, statements were
produced to show how complete the organization of the insurgents really
was, and to what purpose it might be turned. I drew up a plan of a
campaign; corresponded with the different leaders; encouraged the
wavering; restrained the headstrong; confirmed the hesitating; and, in
fact, for fourteen months held them together, not only against their
opponents, but their own more dangerous disunion. And the end is,--what
think you? I only learned it yesterday, on my return from an excursion
in the West which nearly cost me my life. I was concealed in a cabin in
woman's clothes--”
“At Malone's, in the Glen?”
“Yes; how did you know that?”
“I was there. I saw you captured and witnessed your escape.”
“_Diantre_! How near it was!”
He paused for a second, and I took the opportunity to recount to him
the dreadful issue of the scene, with the burning of the cabin. He grew
sickly pale as I related the circumstance; then flushing as quickly, he
exclaimed,--
“We must look to this; these people must be taken care of, I 'll speak
to Dalton; you know him?”
“No; I know not one here.”
“It was he who met you last night; he is a noble fellow. But stay; there
's a knock at the door.”
He approached the fireplace, and taking down the pistols which hung
beside it, walked slowly towards the door.
“'Tis Darby, sir,--Darby the Blast, coming to speak a word to Mister
Burke,” said a voice from without.
The door was opened at once, and Darby entered. Making a deep reverence
to the French officer, in whose presence he seemed by no means at his
ease. Darby dropped his voice to its most humble cadence, and said,--
“Might I be so bould as to have a word with ye, Master Tom?”
There was something in the way this request was made that seemed to
imply a desire for secrecy,--so, at least, the Frenchman understood
it,--and turning hastily rounds he said,--
“Yes, to be sure. I 'll go into my dressing-room; there is nothing to
prevent your speaking here.”
No sooner was the door closed, than Darby drew a chair close to me, and
bending down his head, whispered,--
“Don't trust him,--not from here to that window. They 're going to do it
without him; Mahony told me so himself. But my name was not drawn, and I
'm to be off to Kildare this evening. There 's a meeting of the boys at
the Curragh, and I want you to come with me.”
The state of doubt and uncertainty which had harassed my mind for
the last twenty-four hours was no longer tolerable; so I boldly asked
M'Keown for an explanation as to the people in whose house I was,--their
objects and plans, and how far I was myself involved in their designs.
In fewer words than I could convey it. Darby informed me that the house
was the meeting place of the United Irishmen, who still cherished the
hope of reviving the scenes of '98; that, conscious the failure before
was attributable to their having taken the field as an army when
they should have merely contented themselves with secret and indirect
attacks, they had resolved to adopt a different tactique. It was, in
fact, determined that every political opponent to their party should be
marked,--himself, his family, and his property; that no opportunity was
to be lost of injuring him or his, and, if need be, of taking away his
life; that various measures were to be propounded to Parliament by their
friends, to the maintenance of which threats were to be freely used to
the Government members; and with respect to the great measure of the
day,--the Union,--it was decided that on the night of the division a
certain number of people should occupy the gallery above the Ministerial
benches, armed with hand-grenades and other destructive missiles; that,
on a signal given, these were to be thrown amongst them, scattering
death and ruin on all sides.
“It will be seen, then,” said Darby, with a fiendish grin, “how the
enemies of Ireland pay for their hatred of her! Maybe they 'll vote away
their country after that!”
Whether it was the tone, the look, or the words that suddenly awoke me
from my dreamy infatuation, I know not; but coming so soon after the
Frenchman's detail of the barbarism of the party, a thorough disgust
seized me, and the atrocity of this wholesale murder lost nothing of its
blackness from being linked with the cause of liberty.
With ready quickness, Darby saw what my impression was, and hastily
remarked:--
“We 'll be all away out of this, Master Tom, you know, before that. We
'll be up in Kildare, where we 'll see the boys exercising and marching;
that's what 'ill do your heart good to look at. But before we go, you
'll have to take the oath, for I'm answerable for you all this time with
my own head; not that I care for that same, but others might mistrust
ye.”
“Halloo!” cried the Frenchman, from within; “I hope you have finished
your conference there, for you seem to forget there's no fire in this
room.”
“Yes, sir; and I beg a thousand pardons,” said Darby, servilely. “And
Master Tom only wants to bid you goodby before he goes.”
“Goes! goes where? Are you so soon tired of me?” said he, in an accent
of most winning sweetness.
“He's obliged to be at the Curragh, at the meeting there,” said Darby,
answering for me.
“What meeting? I never heard of it.”
“It 's a review, sir, of the throops, that 's to be by moonlight.”
“A review!” said the Frenchman, with a scornful laugh. “And do you call
this midnight assembly of marauding savages a review?”
Darby's face grew dark with rage, and for a second I thought he would
have sprung on his assailant; but with a fawning, shrewd smile he lisped
out,--
“It's what they call it. Captain; sure the poor boys knows no better.”
“Are you going to this review?” said the Frenchman, with an ironical
pronunciation of the word.
“I scarce know where to go, or what to do,” said I, in a tone of
despairing sadness; “any certainty would be preferable to the doubts
that harass me.”
“Stay with me,” said the Frenchman, interrupting me and laying his hand
on my shoulder; “we shall be companions to each other. Your friend here
knows I can teach you many things that may be useful to you hereafter;
and perhaps, with all humility I may say, your stay will be as
profitable as at the camp yonder.”
“I should not like to desert one who has been so kind to me as Darby;
and if he wishes--”
Before I could finish my sentence, the door was opened by a key from
without, and Dalton, as he was called, stood amongst us.
“What, Darby!” said he, in a voice of something like emotion; “not gone
yet! You know I forbid you coming up here; I suspected what you would be
at. Come, lose no more time; we 'll take care of Mr. Burke for you.”
Darby hung his head sorrowfully, and left the room without speaking,
followed by Dalton, whose voice I heard in a tone of anger as he
descended the stairs.
There was a certain openness, an easy air of careless freedom, in the
young Frenchman, which made me feel at home in his company almost the
very moment of our acquaintance; and when he asked some questions about
myself and my family, I hesitated not to tell him my entire history,
with the causes which had first brought me into Darby's society, and led
me to imbibe his doctrines and opinions. He paused when I finished, and
after reflecting for some minutes, he looked me gravely in the face, and
said,--
“But you are aware of the place you are now in?”
“No,” said I; “further than the fact of my having enjoyed a capital
night's rest and eaten an excellent breakfast, I know nothing about it.”
A hearty burst of laughter from my companion followed this very candid
acknowledgment on my part.
“Then, may I ask, what are your intentions for the future? Have you
any?”
“At least one hundred,” said I, smiling; “but every one of them has
about as many objections against it. I should like much, for instance,
to be a soldier,--not in the English service though. I should like to
belong to an army where neither birth nor fortune can make nor mar a
man's career. I should like, too, to be engaged in some great war of
liberty, where with each victory we gained the voices of a liberated
people would fall in blessings upon us. And then I should like to raise
myself to high command by some great achievement.”
“And then,” said the Frenchman, interrupting, “to come back to Ireland,
and cut off the head of this terrible Monsieur Basset. N'est-ce pas,
Tom?”
I could not help joining in his laugh against myself; although in good
truth I had felt better pleased if he had taken up my enthusiasm in a
different mood.
“So much for mere dreaming!” said I, with half a sigh, as our laughter
subsided.
“Not so,” said he, quickly,--“not so; all you said is far more
attainable than you suspect. I have been in such a service myself. I won
my 'grade' as officer at the point of my sword, when scarcely your age;
and before I was fifteen, received this.”
He took down the sword that hung over the chimney as he said these
words, and drawing it from the scabbard, pointed to the inscription,
which in letters of gold adorned the blade,--“Rivoli,” “Arcole;” then
turning the reverse, I read,--“Au Lieutenant Charles Gustave de Meudon,
Troisième Cuirassiers.”
“This, then, is your name?” said I, repeating it half aloud.
“Yes,” replied he, as he drew himself up, and seemed struggling to
repress a feeling of pride that sent the blood rushing to his cheek and
brow.
“How I should like to be you!” was the wish that burst from me at that
moment, and which I could not help uttering in words.
“Hélas, non!” said the Frenchman, sorrowfully, and turning away to
conceal his agitation; “I have broken with fortune many a day since.”
The tone of bitter disappointment in which these words were spoken left
no room for reply, and we were both silent.
Charles--for so I must now call him to my reader, as he compelled me to
do so with himself--Charles was the first to speak.
“Not many months ago my thoughts were very like your own; but since then
how many disappointments! how many reverses!”
He walked hurriedly up and down the room as he said this; then stopping
suddenly before me, laid his hand on my shoulder, and with a voice of
impressive earnestness said:--
“Be advised by me: join not with these people; do not embark with them
in their enterprise. Their enterprise!” repeated he, scornfully: “they
have none. The only men of action here are they with whom no man of
honor, no soldier, could associate; their only daring, some deed of
rapine and murder. No! liberty is not to be achieved by such hands as
these. And the other,--the men of political wisdom, who prate about
reform and the people's rights, who would gladly see such as me
adventure in the cause they do not care themselves to advocate,--they
are all false alike. Give me,” cried he, with energy, and stamping his
foot upon the ground,--“give me a demibrigade of ours, some squadrons
of Milhaud's cavalry, and trois bouches a feu to open the way before us.
But why do I speak of this? Some midnight burning, some savage murder,
some cowardly attack on unarmed and defenceless people,--these are our
campaigns here. And shall I stain this blade in such a conflict?”
“But you will go back to France?” said I, endeavoring to say something
that might rally him from his gloom.
“Never,” replied he, firmly, “never! I alone, of all my countrymen,
maintained, that to leave the people here at such a crisis was unfair
and unmanly. I alone believed in the representations that were made
of extended organization, of high hopes, and ardent expectations. I
accepted the command of their army. Their army! what a mockery! When
others accepted the amnesty, I refused, and lived in concealment, my
life hanging upon the chance of being captured. For fourteen months I
have wandered from county to county, endeavoring to rally the spirit
I had been taught to think only needed restraint to hold back its
impetuous daring. I have spent money largely, for it was largely placed
at my disposal; I have distributed places and promises; I have accepted
every post where danger offered; and in return, I hoped that the hour
was approaching when we should test the courage of our enemies by such
an outbreak as would astonish Europe. And what think you has all ended
in? But my cheek burns at the very thought! An intended attack on the
Government Members of Parliament,--an act of base assassination,--a
cowardly murder! And for what, too?--to prevent a political union
with England I Have they forgotten that our cause was total rupture!
independence! open enmity with England! But, c'est fini, I have given
them my last resolve. Yesterday evening I told the delegates the only
chance that, in my opinion, existed of their successfully asserting
their own independence. I gave them the letters of French officers, high
in command and station, concurring with my own views; and I have pledged
myself to wait one month longer,--if they deem my plans worthy of
acceptance,--to consider all the details, and arrange the mode of
proceeding. If they refuse, then I leave Ireland forever within a week.
In America, the cause I glory in is still triumphant; and there,
no prestige of failure shall follow me to damp my own efforts, nor
discourage the high hopes of such as trust me. But you, my poor
boy,--and how have I forgotten you in all this sad history I--I will not
suffer you to be misled by false representations and flattering offers.
It may be the only consolation I shall carry with me from this land of
anarchy and misfortune. But even that is something,--if I rescue one
untried and uncorrupted heart from the misery of such associates. You
shall be a soldier,--be my companion here while I stay. I 'll arrange
everything for your comfort; we 'll read and talk together; and I will
endeavor to repay the debt I owe to France, by sending back there one
better than myself to guard her eagles.”
The tears ran fast down my cheeks as I heard these words; but not one
syllable could I utter.
“You do not like my plan. Well--”
Before he could conclude, I seized his hand with rapture within both of
mine, and pressed it to my lips.
“It is a bargain, then,” said he, gayly. “And now let us lose no more
time; let us remove this breakfast-table, and begin at once.”
Another table was soon drawn over to the fire, upon which a mass of
books, maps, and plates were heaped by my companion, who seemed to act
in the whole affair with all the delight of a schoolboy in some exploit
of amusement.
“You are aware, Tom, that this place is a prison to me, and therefore I
am not altogether disinterested in this proposal. You, however, can go
out when you please; but until you understand the precautions necessary
to prevent you from being traced here, it is better not to venture into
the city.”
“I have no wish whatever to leave this,” said I, quickly, while I ranged
my eye with delight over the pile of books before me, and thought of all
the pleasure I was to draw from their perusal.
“You must tell me so three weeks hence, if you wish to flatter me,”
replied Charles, as he drew over his chair, and pointed with his hand to
another.
It needed not the pleasing and attractive power of my teacher to make my
study the most captivating of all amusements. Military science, even in
its gravest forms, had an interest for me such as no other pursuit
could equal. In its vast range of collateral subjects, it opened an
inexhaustible mine to stimulate industry and encourage research. The
great wars of the world were the great episodes in history, wherein
monarchs and princes were nothing, if not generals. With what delight,
then, did I hang over the pages of Carnot and Jomini! With what an
anxious heart would I read the narrative of a siege, where, against
every disadvantage of numbers and munitions of war, some few resisted
all the attacks of the adverse forces, with no other protection save
that of consummate skill! With what enthusiasm did I hear of Charles the
Twelfth, of Wallenstein, of the Prince Eugene! And how often-times did
I ask myself in secret, Why had the world none such as these to boast of
now?--till at last the name of Bonaparte burst from my companion's lips,
as, with a torrent of long-restrained devotion, he broke forth into an
eloquent and impassioned account of the great general of his age!
That name once heard, I could not bear to think or speak of any other.
How I followed him,--from the siege of Toulon, as he knelt down beside
the gun which he pointed with his own hand, to the glorious battlefields
of Italy,--and heard, from one who listened to his shout of
“Suivez-moi” on the bridge of Lodi, the glorious heroism of that day! I
tracked him across the pathless deserts of the East,--beneath the shadow
of the Pyramids, whose fame seems somehow to have revived in the history
of that great man. And then I listened to the stories--and how numerous
were they!--of his personal daring; the devotion and love men bore him;
the magic influence of his presence; the command of his look. The very
short and broken sentences he addressed to his generals were treasured
up in my mind, and repeated over and over to myself. Charles possessed
a miniature of the First Consul, which he assured me was strikingly
like him; and for hours long I could sit and gaze upon that cold,
unimpassioned brow, where greatness seemed to sit enthroned. How I
longed to look upon that broad and massive forehead,--the deep-set,
searching eye,--the mouth, where sweetness and severity seemed
tempered,--and that finely rounded chin, that gave his head so much the
character of antique beauty! His image filled every avenue of my brain;
his eye seemed on me in my waking moments, and I thought I heard his
voice in my dream. Never did lover dwell more rapturously on the memory
of his mistress than did my boyish thoughts on Bonaparte. What would I
not have done to serve him? What would I not have dared to win one word,
one look of his, in praise? All other names faded away before his;--the
halo around him paled every other star; the victories! had thought
of before with admiration I now only regarded as trifling successes,
compared with the overwhelming torrent of his conquests. Charles saw my
enthusiasm, and ministered to it with eager delight. Every trait in his
beloved leader that could stimulate admiration or excite affection, he
dwelt on with all the fondness of a Frenchman for his idol; till at last
the world seemed to my eyes but the theatre of his greatness, and
men the mere instruments of that commanding intellect that ruled the
destinies and disposed of the fortunes of nations.
In this way, days and weeks, and even months rolled on, for Charles's
interest in my studies had induced him to abandon his former intention
of departure; and he now scarcely took any part in the proceedings of
the delegates, and devoted himself almost exclusively to me. During the
daytime we never left the house; but when night fell we used to walk
forth, not into the city, but by some country road, often along
the canal-side,--our conversation on the only topic wherein we felt
interested. And these rambles still live within my memory with all
the vivid freshness of yesterday; and while my heart saddens over the
influence they shed upon my after life, I cannot help the train of
pleasure with which even yet I dwell upon their recollection. How
guarded should he be who converses with a boy, forgetting with what
power each word is fraught by the mere force of years,--how the
flattery of equality destroys judgment, and saps all power of
discrimination,--and, more than all, how dangerous it is to graft upon
the tender sapling the ripe fruits of experience, not knowing how, in
such, they may grow to very rankness! Few are there who cannot look
back to their childhood for the origin of opinions that have had their
influence over all their latter years; and when these have owed their
birth to those we loved, is it wonderful that we should cling to faults
which seemed hallowed by friendship?
Meanwhile I was becoming a man, if not in years, at least in spirit
and ambition. The pursuits natural to my age were passed over for the
studies of more advanced years. Military history had imparted to me a
soldier's valor, and I could take no pleasure in anything save as it
bore upon the one engrossing topic of my mind. Charles, too, seemed to
feel all his own ambition revived in mine, and watched with pride the
progress I was making under his guidance.