So far none of the _Volontaires_ had been punished, and it fell to my
lot to be the first to become acquainted with the _Salle de Police_. I
had been ordered to ride that evening the kicking mare I described just
now, but the revengeful beast, remembering the lesson I had given her
on the previous day, let out with her hind legs the moment she saw me
coming near her stall with a saddle. I laid it on the ground and tried
to get into the stall in order to tie her head up before saddling her.
Try as I would, I could not possibly manage to get alongside of her,
the stalls being very narrow, and consisting of wooden partitions hung
up by a chain fixed to the ceiling. These partitions, which are two
feet broad, stand about four feet from the ground, so, getting into the
next stall, I climbed over the partition and got alongside the charger
and caught her by the head-stall. A more vicious beast I never came
across; not only did she try to bite me, but she also tried to stamp
on my foot, then she kicked me with her near hind leg, and while I was
tying her head up she gave me a forward kick with her foreleg; and when
I brought the saddle to put it on her back, she lashed out so furiously
that she broke the rope by which I had tied her head high up and bit
me viciously. She was Titi's charger, and he alone was able to manage
her, so I sent a trooper to call him to help me. Titi came, and I was
holding the mare's head while he was putting the saddle on her back
when the Sergeant-major suddenly appeared.
"What are you doing there?" he asked Titi.
"Sergeant-major," I replied, "I could not manage to saddle the beast,
and as I have to ride her to-night, I asked Titi to help me."
"Very well," answered the Sergeant-major, "you will both have eight
days' _Salle de Police_, and if I catch you another time," he went on,
addressing Titi, "it's eight days' prison _you_ will get." So saying he
walked away pompously, evidently well pleased with himself.
"Well, old chap," said Titi to me, "so you've got it at last."
I felt very crestfallen, but I had no time to think much about the
matter, as I was already late and had to rush to riding-school. The
drill over, I hastened to De Lanoy's room and asked him to intercede
for me with the Sergeant-major. He promised to do so at once, and I
anxiously awaited the result of his interview. At the end of a few
minutes I was called into the Sergeant-major's room.
"I am very sorry for you, Decle," said the latter; "de Lanoy has
spoken to me on your behalf, and if he had done so sooner I might
have overlooked the matter this time, on account of the special
circumstances, but your punishment has already been put down on the
report, so the best thing you can do is to go through it with good
grace."
When I returned to my room all the other troopers chaffed me
unmercifully, but Titi was practical and sympathetic. "Now look here,
old man," said he, "let me give you a few tips. First of all, as you've
got warm drawers I advise you to put on two or three pairs one on the
top of the other, and I also advise you to wear two or three thick
vests, because you know you'll have to be searched before you go to
the cells, and you are not allowed to wear any regimentals under your
canvas trousers and blouse. You'll have to put on your clogs, and all
the covering you are allowed is your bread-bag" (a canvas bag I have
already described, and called a bread-bag because it is generally used
for fetching the loaves of bread from the bakery. It afforded very
little covering, being only about four feet by two). At a quarter to
eight the trumpeters called "The men under punishment," and I went down
with Titi to the guard-room. There were a dozen troopers punished with
_Salle de Police_ that evening, and we were drawn up in front of the
guard-room. The Sergeant came out with a lantern, and having called
out our names he began to search us. He felt us all over to see that
we had neither matches, tobacco, candles, nor spirits concealed under
our clothes. But he was a good fellow, and did not make as thorough a
search as I have seen made by some others.
One trooper only, who had his riding trousers under his canvas ones,
was ordered to pull them off, getting two days more for wearing them.
We were then marched off to the cells. We first reached a huge door
which the Sergeant opened with an enormous key. This door led into a
passage, on the left of which were five heavily bolted doors leading
into the cells reserved to the men punished with solitary confinement.
At the end of the corridor stood a solid door reminding one of the
traditional prison portal of the old melodrama; it was locked with two
gigantic iron bolts, each one closing with a key; when these had been
drawn, a key half a foot long and more than an inch thick was inserted
in the centre lock, in which it turned with a grating noise. The door
itself was at least six inches thick and covered with heavy iron nails.
We had to stoop to pass through the doorway, and were immediately
greeted by a dreadful stench. The light of the lantern being turned on
our faces we could hardly see where we were going, but when we had all
marched in the Sergeant gave a look round with his lantern and thus
enabled me to get a glance at the place. The room, a kind of cellar,
was about twenty feet square. On each side of it ran a sloping wooden
platform about seven feet broad, its base standing a couple of feet
above the cement floor; at the top of the platform was a raised board
about two inches high and one foot broad, which was meant as a pillow;
this platform was our bed. The room was about ten feet high, and at the
extremity of it, near the ceiling, was a small window, perhaps three
square feet in area, strongly and closely barred. The only furniture
consisted of an earthenware jug containing water and an iron cup. In a
corner of the room, in a small recess, stood a large barrel about four
feet high, with two steps leading to the top of it, and with two iron
handles on each side. This, in regimental slang, is called "Jules," and
is the only sanitary (?) convenience at the disposal of the prisoners.
The whole place, having no means of ventilation, was musty and slimy.
We all stretched ourselves on the platform, and the Sergeant, having
seen us thus comfortably settled for the night, retired.
[Illustration: THE PLANK BED]
As soon as the key had been removed from the outer door I heard the
cracking of a match, and a candle was lit by my friend Titi.
Having stuck the candle on the flat edge at the top of the bed he
at once jumped to the floor and addressed us. "Look here, boys," he
began, "I am the chairman of this 'ere meeting, as I hold the record
for attendance in this hall, where I have already presided over many
a merry gathering. As chairman, and as your senior, I must warn you
that my authority has to be recognised by every one of you, and in my
capacity of commander of the place, I may as well remind you of the
regulations. Remember that 'refusal to obey is a most heinous crime,
the offender being liable to be tried by court-martial.' As I notice
that there are a few uninitiated members here to-night, I will let them
know what are the rules and regulations of the place. I will first
proceed to the inspection."
So saying, he ordered us to stand in a single file in the middle of
the room; and all the troopers, scenting fun, readily obeyed. He then
commanded four of us, who were making our first appearance in the
place, to step forward, allowing the others to sit down. "Troopers," he
said, addressing us and mimicking the Colonel capitally, "you have the
honour of being admitted for the first time to these ancient precincts,
which have sheltered many a great man, and it now becomes necessary
that you should pay due homage to our military patron, the great and
noble Jules. In order not to interrupt the sanctity of your devotions,
we shall leave you in _tête-à-tête_ with our noble patron, whom you
will have at the same time to guard. Trooper Decle," he concluded,
"right turn by the left, quick march!" Having been warned beforehand
of this traditional farce, I executed the movement, and when I came
within a step of "Jules" was ordered to halt. "Now," said Titi, closing
the door upon me, here are your orders: "In case any one knocks at the
door you are to challenge the fellow and inquire what he wants, and
you must also see that Jules does not run away." The door was then
closed upon me, and I was nearly stifled. At the end of a minute or
two came a knock. "Who goes there?" I said. "Your commander," replied
Titi from outside; "have you followed my instructions, and has Jules
inspired you?" he went on. "Yes," I replied, "he told me that the
distinguished company would feel thirsty in the morning, and he advised
me to allay their thirst." "That's right," answered Titi, opening the
door; I then handed over to him a five-franc piece to pay my footing.
"Boys," he exclaimed, "'tis a hind wheel" (_une roue de derrière_--the
slang word for a silver dollar). "Three cheers for Decle." The cheers
were duly given. The three other recruits were still standing in the
middle of the room. "Now what may your name be, you pug-nosed, carroty
villain?" demanded Titi, addressing one of the fellows standing up--a
recruit. "Dieudonné, _présent_," shouted the boy, adding to his name
the answer given at a roll-call. Promptly he was marched to Jules as
I had been, and locked in, but he was left there for ten minutes at
least. When Titi went to release him the lad only offered one franc.
"It won't do, my boy," said Titi. The fellow replied that this was
all he possessed; but on his promising to give fifty centimes more
in the morning, "to make up the price of a quart of brandy," he was
released. Then came the turn of the third recruit: he was a tall and
magnificently built fellow, 6 feet 1 inch high. "Now, you _Colonne de
la Bastille_,[18] what name has your father transmitted to his pillar
of a son?" "Look 'ere you," cried the recruit, "don't imagine that I
am going to let myself be bullied like those two other idiots." "I
say, Tommy," remarked an old trooper of four years' standing, "don't
be an ass; we're having a bit of fun, and even the _Volontaire_ has
played the game like a man: we've all been through it; if you don't go
willing, you'll be made to go unwilling. Go on, old chap." It was of no
use; the man sulked and would not budge. Thereupon Titi began another
speech, giving this time an imitation of one of our lieutenants.
"Ahem, I warned you, my friend, of the--as I might say--disastrous;
yes, disastrous consequences of disobedience; you, er--understand
well--disobedience--well, as I said, I shall have you removed where
you won't--or, rather, where you decline to--go. Now, boys," he added,
turning towards the other men. Four of them had already jumped up, and
among them a certain Piatte, a kind-hearted, clumsy-looking chap, but
a most powerful man. The first who approached the recruit were knocked
down, but Piatte, catching him by the legs from behind, brought him to
the floor. The three others at once seized him by the arms and head,
while Piatte held his legs, and so carried he was roughly bundled into
Jules' corner, and the door locked upon him.
To make it the more secure the door was then tightly held by four
men, while the recruit inside kicked and hammered at it in vain. "You
cowards," he howled, with curses; "you took me unawares, four to one,
and from behind too; wait until I get out! You don't know who I am. I
am _Jeannot the butcher, the Terror of Belleville_!"
"Shut up, Jeannot, and listen one minute," cried Piatte, in his deep
bass voice. "If you like I'll stand up to you; fair fight, mind you;
square fall, both shoulders touching. Is that a go?"
Jeannot ceased hammering upon the door. "All right," he shouted. "Now,
you fellows, open the door!"
"Let go, boys," said Piatte.
Slowly the tall recruit stepped out; his face was flushed, his eyes
bloodshot. Folding his arms on his chest he looked round. "Where's the
idiot who dares challenge me?" he said, surveying us with contempt.
"I am that 'ere idiot," said Piatte, good-naturedly.
Jeannot looked at him and laughed. "So," he said, "you want me to crush
your bones? You fancy yourself pretty strong, but presently you'll be
sorry you spoke, putty-face!"
"Very well, my boy, very well," quietly replied Piatte, beginning to
strip.
Jeannot followed his example, and as he had but a shirt under his
blouse, he was soon naked to the waist. He was a magnificent specimen
of humanity. His muscles looked as if made of cast-iron; his chest was
broad, his body supple, and his wrists and hands were not coarse like
those usually found among the labouring classes.
Piatte took longer to strip, having a couple of flannel shirts and
three heavy vests to remove. When he was bare to the waist, he appeared
immensely powerful indeed, but lacking the manly beauty of Jeannot.
He was thick set, with a short neck, breasts like a woman's, and a
tendency to stoop. His hands were enormous (he could not get on No. 9
gloves). He was fully two inches shorter than his opponent. Both men
were, however, equally matched in weight, each being about 14 stone,
but at first sight I felt sure that Jeannot would easily win the day.
"Who is to be umpire?" said Jeannot.
"Titi, of course," answered Piatte.
"Titi? Who is Titi?"
My chum came forward. "You don't know me, old fellow," he began, "but
you've often heard my name. I was one year with old Blanc the wrestler.
'Titi de la Villette,' don't you remember now?"
"What," cried Jeannot, "Titi de la Villette, the champion
light-weight? Shake hands," and so saying he extended his palm, which
Titi firmly grasped.
"Now, boys," said Titi, addressing the adversaries, "here are the
conditions of the match: No grasping below the waist or by the clothes;
no foul tripping, and both shoulders to touch the ground."
"Right you are--agreed," answered Piatte and Jeannot simultaneously.
The two adversaries shook hands, and immediately stood in an attitude
of attack, with their knees bent, and both arms half extended forward
with open hands. Then Titi gave the signal "Go!"
Jeannot thereupon advanced towards Piatte, who did not shift his
position. The assailant then laid one hand on Piatte's shoulder, while
he tried to get his left arm round his adversary's waist, but every
feint was baffled by Piatte, who still remained on the defensive.
Not a whisper could be heard, but only the loud breathing of the two
wrestlers, and the sound of flesh striking flesh.
All of a sudden Jeannot sprang back, and immediately rushing once more
upon his adversary, caught hold of him round the waist with his left
arm, putting his right arm over Piatte's left shoulder. Piatte stood
the shock without flinching, and with a rapid movement he brought
Jeannot's right arm down, allowing him to pass it under his own arm
so that Jeannot was grasping Piatte round the body, while Piatte was
encircling him over the arms.
Under ordinary circumstances Piatte would have been at a disadvantage,
but so powerful was his grasp that Jeannot, though the taller man,
could not bend to catch his opponent round the waist, while Piatte
fairly encircled his man--over the arms, it is true, but under the
elbows. For a few seconds the two men held each other in a grip of
iron, but I noticed that, while Jeannot was panting, Piatte did not
seem out of breath. Then Piatte, with a tremendous effort, lifted
Jeannot slightly from the ground; but, as he did so, Jeannot arched
himself to regain his footing, and both men crashed heavily to the
floor: they both fell on the side without loosening their grip, but
Piatte quickly disengaged his left hand from under his adversary's
body, with the evident intention of using his two hands to force his
shoulders down. Taking advantage of the movement, Jeannot, arching
himself on his head and feet, so that his two shoulders should not
touch the ground, succeeded in turning Piatte a little round, and
nearly managed to get on the top of him. Before he could do so,
however, Piatte had slipped one hand on Jeannot's shoulder, and placed
his other hand against his waist, thus pushing him away. Jeannot was
still holding Piatte round the body, but the moment Piatte slipped his
hand on to his shoulder he let go, and, with one hand on the ground,
pushed himself away from Piatte, and the next instant both men were
kneeling alongside each other. With a hand planted firmly on the
ground, each one tried in turn to grasp the other by the waist, but in
vain.
It was a fine sight to see these two powerful athletes rooted to the
ground in grim silence, broken only by the impact of hands against
muscular backs. At last Jeannot managed to encircle Piatte's waist,
but, before he had succeeded in doing so, Piatte had caught him round
the neck; for a second they were entangled, but Jeannot threw his legs
up, and, turning a back somersault, slipped his hand from Piatte's
arm and fell on his feet, standing in front of his adversary. Piatte
had meanwhile remained on his knees, and, with tremendous efforts,
Jeannot tried to move him, first by seizing him by the waist, then by
the shoulders. But Piatte remained immovable as a rock. He told me
afterwards that his chief object was to let Jeannot exhaust himself
while he was saving his own wind.
This struggle lasted for a few minutes more, when Jeannot suddenly
slipped on the damp cement floor, and, to save himself from being
seized by Piatte, he flung himself away, and rolled behind his
adversary. In an instant both men were on their legs once more, Piatte
as cool as when he had first begun, Jeannot panting heavily. For a
short time they both stood feinting, when Piatte, changing his tactics,
made a rush at the Parisian giant, and, before the latter knew where he
was, he had been lifted in the air and heavily thrown on his back with
Piatte on the top of him. In order to well assert his victory, Piatte
twice lifted Jeannot bodily, and made his two shoulders touch the
ground. Then the victor stood up, greeted by our unanimous applause.
Titi handed over to him a flask of brandy he had managed to smuggle
in, and, after taking a long pull, Piatte wiped his mouth and, turning
round, said, "Now it's your turn, Jeannot." It was only then that we
noticed that Jeannot was lying where he had been felled, and we all
feared that he might be seriously injured. Piatte hastened to his side,
and was about to lift him when Jeannot opened his eyes and jumped up
unaided. Turning towards Piatte, he extended his hand to him. "Shake
hands," he said; "you are the first man who has ever felled Jeannot the
butcher; but you're a good 'un; you fight fair, and I like that; but
you fairly took the wind out of me that last go. Now, boys," he went
on, "to show you that I don't bear any grudge, I'll pay my footing,
and I'll be as generous as that blasted millionaire of a _Volontaire_.
Here goes 'a hind wheel,' and good health to you all." So saying, he
took a long pull at the flask which Titi had handed over to him. The
combatants then wiped off the blood that ran from a good many scratches
on their bodies, and donned their garments once more. In the excitement
of the contest the fourth recruit was forgotten, and, as he hailed from
Normandy (the Scotland of France), he kept cannily in the background,
and so avoided paying his footing.
Titi then suggested that we should have a song or two, and it was
fully midnight when, the candle having died out, we all tried to go
to sleep. The night was bitterly cold, and as we had no blankets to
cover ourselves with, we all slept huddled together like sardines in
a tin. Having been awake since 5 A.M., I was quite exhausted, and
soon dropped off to sleep, but only to wake up almost immediately with
a horrid sensation that something had run over my face. I awoke my
faithful Titi, who was sleeping beside me.
"Got any matches?" I asked hurriedly.
"Yes, why--want a smoke?" he replied, handing me a match.
Just as I was going to sit up to strike the match something else
stirred my hair. When I had obtained a light I looked round, and to my
disgust I saw half a dozen huge rats running about over my companions'
bodies.
"Ah, it's the rats that worry you," said Titi; "you'll soon get
accustomed to them--the place swarms with those fellows."
A nice prospect indeed! Every time I tried to go to sleep I was aroused
by a rat cantering over my face, so at last I determined to sit up,
gladly accepting Titi's offer of tobacco and cigarette-papers.
"The Sergeant of the Guard to-night is a good sort," Titi told me, "and
he won't say anything if he smells a whiff of smoke."
At 2.30 A.M. the Sergeant turned up, and when he ordered us to get up
and to clear out, I was already rejoicing at the idea that I should be
able to spend a few hours in bed: but I was sorely disappointed when we
were taken to the pump and ordered to fill the two huge tanks where the
chargers had to be watered in the morning. The night--it was early in
December--was a bitterly cold one, and the nipping wind pierced us to
the bones in the intervals between our turns at the pump.
It was nearly five o'clock before we had concluded our work: I rushed
to my bed, and when, a few minutes later, the Corporal called out for
the names of the sick men who wanted to go to the medical visit, I put
mine down, notwithstanding Titi's warning that if the Surgeon-major did
not consider me ill, I should get an extra four days _Salle de Police_
for malingering.
At 6 A.M., after _réveille_, the Sergeant-major came to the room and
called me.
"Look here," he said, "you are not going to begin these tricks with
me--to report yourself sick just because you have slept in the _Salle
de Police_."
I assured him that I was really ill.
"So much the better for you, if you really are," he replied; "but mind
you, I shall warn the Surgeon-major, and if he finds that you are
shamming there'll be another eight days for you. And, by-the-by," he
added, "I want to warn you that troopers who are punished with _Salle
de Police_ are not allowed to use the canteen, and if I find that
you've set foot there--God help you! You will also, during the two
hours of rest you get every day, have to do _corvées_ (hard work, such
as cleaning the cells, carrying _jules_ about, and doing any unpleasant
jobs that have to be performed in the barracks)."
With this intimation he walked away.
Need I say that, now I knew all that _Salle de Police_ implied, it was
not without dread that I looked forward to the seven days I had still
to undergo.
Although the description of my adventures has been but just begun,
enough has, perhaps, already been said to indicate that the military
training which might be made of real educational value to French
youngsters is but a sordid and degrading experience, to be remembered
with loathing, or forgotten--if possible.
FOOTNOTE:
[18] A high monument in Paris, somewhat like the Nelson Column.