According to the doctor's orders I went to the medical visit in the
morning. Being a Sunday, there were but a few men who had reported
themselves, but besides myself there were two _Volontaires_, one of
them being the poor fellow of whom I spoke when I described our first
riding-lesson under Sergeant Legros; the inside of his knee had been so
badly scraped that further riding had caused extensive inflammation,
and he was ordered to the _Infirmerie_ (a kind of hospital ward in the
barracks, where sick soldiers who want special attention, but are not
ill enough to go to hospital, are kept). As before, the doctor kept me
waiting until he had disposed of the other cases, and then exempted me
from duty for two days. I was thus excused from all work, and, what I
still more appreciated, had not to sleep in the _Salle de Police_.
The doctor also inquired very kindly how we were treated by our
Sergeant. I frankly told him the truth. "I am not astonished," he
said; "I know the man and I pity you." He then went on to tell me
how different had been the treatment of the _Volontaires_ under the
previous Colonel; my friend, de Lanoy, was then in charge of them,
and none of the bullying we were subject to ever occurred, or would
have been tolerated then. The doctor further allowed me to make use
of the dispensary if I cared to read or write while off duty, and,
as will be seen, I owe an immense debt of gratitude to him, as well
as to the other Surgeon-major of my regiment, Dr. Lesage, who was
Surgeon-captain, Dr. Chatelain holding only the rank of Lieutenant.
In the afternoon I availed myself of the permission which had been
granted me of using the dispensary, and I was sitting there sketching
when Surgeon-major Lesage stepped into the room. He was a brisk and
restless little man, very stern in appearance, but with the kindest of
hearts.
"What the deuce are you doing there?" he asked, as I rose to salute him
and stood at attention. I explained matters to him. "Yes," he said, "I
know; Dr. Chatelain has spoken to me about you, but you're a bit of a
_pricotteur_,[37] aren't you?"
"No, sir," I replied.
"Never mind, never mind," he said in his brusque way. "When you are
ill, I'll look after you, but don't come to me when you aren't--I don't
like it."
He hurried out of the room, and went to visit the troopers in the sick
ward.
When I resumed work on the Tuesday it had been snowing hard during the
night, and the cold was such that our fingers soon became benumbed
through contact with our carbines. I have omitted to mention that in
the cavalry white doeskin gloves are always worn at drill; and we were
even allowed during the winter months to wear white woollen gloves.
In the infantry the men drill without gloves, and only wear them on
parade, or when they go out of barracks, their gloves being of white
cotton.[38]
Before drilling us Sergeant Legros carefully examined our carbines, and
gave _Salle de Police_ "_à l'oeil_" to three of us. As I have already
explained, _à l'oeil_ means that the punishment is not reported to
the officers, and therefore is not recorded. In my time this led to
monstrous abuse, as neither the Captains nor the Colonel were aware of
the number of men who were daily punished.
It was so cold that we felt quite delighted when we were commanded to
start at _pas gymnastique_ (a quick run), the Sergeant and the Corporal
running with us for a couple of hundred yards, when they fell out. We
soon, however, began to feel exhausted, but Legros noticing this called
out to us: "You d---- lazy brutes, keep your distances, or I'll leave
you on the run for half an hour longer." First one, then another, fell
out, utterly unable to go on, each one of them being told that he would
sleep in the _Salle de Police_ that night; then came my turn, with the
same result, but little did I care for the punishment, as I had to
sleep in the den in any case. Altogether six of us were punished after
we had been kept on the run for more than a quarter of an hour!
We were kept drilling on foot for half an hour longer, and during that
time our Sergeant took a delight in making us "Shoulder arms," "Slope
arms," "Present arms," and leaving us in the same position for three
or four minutes at a time, while if a single one of us wavered in the
least he never failed to make us repeat the movement. Day after day the
same thing occurred, until the two hours of foot drill became a daily
terror to us.
Sergeant Legros took also special pleasure in the _voltige_. The few
of us who, like myself, had soon learnt to run alongside the horse
while cantering in a circle and to jump on his back facing the head or
the tail, or to jump on the horse and then to alight by passing the
leg over the neck jumping up once more astride the animal, were seldom
called. The Sergeant's delight was to get a _Volontaire_ who could just
manage to jump on the cantering horse, and then to order another clumsy
chap to jump behind him: if the man succeeded in doing so without
bringing the first rider to the ground, the Sergeant whipped the horse
until both riders fell off, and in that case he usually gave each of
them one or two days' _Salle de Police_.
Another trick he was particularly fond of making us perform was "the
scissors." This was usually done on the circus saddle, although some of
us could do it on the bareback horse with only a surcingle. It may be
thus described:
[Illustration: EXERCISE IN RIDING SCHOOL (VAULTING)]
Being on the horse you seize the iron handles fixed on each side in
front of the saddle, then putting your weight on your wrists you throw
your legs high up in the air, bending forward as much as you can; you
then cross your legs, and letting the handles go you drop back into
the saddle facing the horse's tail. To face once more the horse's
head you repeat the movement, laying hold of two leather loops fixed
at the back of the saddle, but you must be careful to bend your head
downwards towards the outside of the circle described by the horse,
or else instead of falling on the saddle you are violently jerked to
the ground. A fairly good rider can soon learn to perform this trick
bareback, throwing himself back with the aid of the handles fixed on
to the surcingle, while to face once more the horse's head he pushes
himself well forward towards the withers, and placing his hand on the
animal's back he vaults with the weight of his body thrown well towards
the inside of the circle.
Had we had a different Sergeant who, instead of having but one object
in view--to punish us--had put us on our mettle and developed a spirit
of emulation, we would have soon proved the pick of the regiment. One
or two of the _Volontaires_ were splendid athletes, two of us at least
being able to jump over the whole length of a horse leap-frog fashion,
leaping from behind and landing in front of the animal's head. Most
of us could in the same way jump standing on to the horse's back,
my friend Delbruck being among the best athletes of our lot. It is
true that his mother was English and that he had received an English
education.
That evening it was freezing so hard that we were allowed to take our
great-coats to the _Salle de Police_, and the Sergeant of the Guard
being a friend of de Lanoy's I was excused from pumping water, and
sent to my bed at 3 A.M. The following day I was still more lucky, for
de Lanoy having taken the guard, allowed me to sleep in the stables
instead of the _Salle de Police_. I made myself snug alongside my
mare, and the dear little beast cannot have moved for hours, for I
slept beside her from 8.30 P.M. till 3 A.M. I was awakened by a great
commotion: one of the chargers had kicked in such a way as to get
astride the partition of his stall, where he got stuck. I arose to help
the stable guard, and with the handle of a broom we managed after a
good deal of trouble to unhook the partition, which fell to the ground,
releasing the unfortunate horse.
I then returned to my own charger's stall, and passed a most
comfortable night. I had once more to sleep in the _Salle de Police_,
but, fortunately, that was my last day of it for the time being.
The frost was getting more intense every day, and it has, indeed, been
recorded that the winter of 1879 was one of the severest within the
memory of man. The cold at last was such that orders were given by
various Captains that we should drill in the stables instead of out of
doors; this at least saved us from having to run round a yard until we
were completely exhausted.
As we began to know Sergeant Legros better we were able to realise
into what hands we had fallen: some days he was in a good humour and
none of us would be punished; at other times he would only put in an
appearance when we were assembled for drill on foot; but when he failed
to appear at morning school, which in his absence was presided over
by a Corporal, we were certain that it was a bad sign. The moment he
appeared he looked sulky, with a heavy cloud over his face, and his
first words to us usually were, "I am going to stick four of you in the
_Salle de Police_ to-night, so you had better look out." This promise
he never failed to keep, and four of us invariably slept in the lock-up.
We were already in the middle of December, and Christmas was fast
approaching, so that we all looked forward to the few days' leave we
hoped to get at that festive season; but, alas, I little suspected what
was about to befall me. The Colonel seemed to have taken an increased
dislike to _Volontaires_. First came a regimental order by which the
_Volontaires_ were strictly forbidden to mess at the canteen. As,
however, he could not stretch regulations far enough to prevent us from
using the canteen, he worded the order thus: "In future," he said, "the
_Volontaires_ will have to go and fetch their rations from the kitchen
like other troopers; Corporals are enjoined to report any _Volontaire_
failing to obey this order." This was all very well, but he could not
compel us to eat if we were not hungry. Still, the result of this order
was great inconvenience to us, as it meant our being detained in the
room until our _gamelle_ had been brought by the orderly.
On the Sunday before Christmas I was expecting a party of friends who
had promised to come and look me up, and had asked me to dinner. At
afternoon "Stables" I therefore went to the officer of the week, and
asked him for ten o'clock leave, as I said some members of my family
were coming to see me. Immediately after "Stables," donning one of
the uniforms I had had specially made of better cloth, I went to the
station to await my friends' arrival. They were artists, and were
accompanied by two music-hall stars of the day. I waited for them on
the platform, and when they alighted from their compartment, one of the
ladies complained that an old gentleman, whom she pointed out to me,
had been rubbing his foot against hers in so persistent and insulting
a manner that she was compelled to request him to desist. I had a good
stare at the old man, and made some uncomplimentary remark to the lady
about him. We then proceeded to take our seats in a four-in-hand brake
I had hired for the occasion, and drove off merrily to the forest, a
few miles from the town. I was driving, and on the way I observed that
we passed in one of the streets the old gentleman of the train. We
spent a most pleasant afternoon, and were enjoying our dinner when my
friend de Lanoy sent word that he wanted to speak to me. I asked him
to join us, but he declined to do so, and insisted upon the waiter
telling me that it was most important that I should come out to him at
once. Accordingly I went, and, at de Lanoy's request, we adjourned to
my room.
"What the deuce have you been doing, old chap?" he began; "Major Vian
has just been to the barracks, fuming with rage, and ordered me to
mount my horse and look for you all over the town, and when I had found
you, I was to bring you back with me, and stick you straight off in
prison."
I simply could not understand what it meant, and told him exactly how
the case stood: that some friends, whose names I mentioned, as he knew
them also, had come to spend the afternoon with me, and that before
dinner we had driven in a brake to the forest. I asked de Lanoy whether
by so doing I had in any way infringed the regulations; but he told
me that he did not see anything irregular in my proceedings. He then
inquired whether I had met the Major on the way and failed to salute
him; but I was able to assure him that I was quite certain that I had
duly saluted every officer I came across. "Well," he said, "I cannot
understand it; but I will tell you what I will do for you: I will tell
the Major that I couldn't find you; so go on with your dinner, and,
as you have ten o'clock leave, enjoy yourself till then; but you must
expect to be locked up the moment you return to barracks." De Lanoy
then expressed his regret at being unable to join us, explaining that
being on duty he could not possibly do so. This occurrence naturally
marred the gaiety of the following proceedings, but my friends tried
to cheer me up, and affected to treat the adventure as a joke. At ten
o'clock I returned to barracks and reported myself to the Sergeant of
the Guard. The Sergeant, a friend of mine, told me that "I had put my
foot in it," and that he had strict orders to march me to the cells
then and there. At the same time, with some curiosity, he asked me what
I had been doing. I was as ignorant as he was of my supposed crime, and
could supply him with no information. I handed my sword over to one of
the troopers of the guard, and asked him to take it to my room with my
helmet. I was then marched off to the cells. Between ten o'clock and
midnight five more troopers were brought into the prison, all of them
in full uniform, and in a disgusting state of drunkenness; of course
they kicked up an awful row, and there was no sleep for me, as may well
be imagined. At half-past twelve we heard a tremendous disturbance
outside the cell door, and the moment it was opened a trooper, mad with
drink, struggling, kicking, and swearing, was chucked inside. As soon
as the door had been closed upon him he rushed to it, and for fully a
quarter of an hour went on hammering and kicking at it like a maniac;
realising then that his efforts were all in vain, he tottered towards
the camp bed and threw himself bodily on two or three men who were
lying on it. He was received with curses, and violently thrown off,
dropping with a tremendous thud on to the pavement of the cell. He
arose, however, madder than ever, and, with oaths and curses, declared
that he was going to rip open the whole b---- lot of us.
Unfortunately at that moment one of the troopers struck a match and
lit a candle. This only added to the fellow's drunken fury, and to our
horror we saw him pull a huge clasp-knife from one of his pockets.
We all sprang to our feet, but the drunken man, selecting a trooper
against whom he evidently had a grudge, made a rush for him; at the
same time the candle was upset, and in the dark we could hear the two
men struggling and rushing about the cell. "Who has got a match?" I
shouted. As ill luck would have it, nobody could find one for the
moment, so, unwilling to be ripped open in the dark, I groped my way
towards a recess where "_jules_" stood, and closed the door behind
me. A few minutes, perhaps but a few seconds, later I heard Piatte's
deep bass voice saying, "No you don't, my children, no you don't!" I
carefully peeped out, slightly opening the door. The candle had been
re-lighted, and in the middle of the cells stood Piatte, in uniform,
holding two men, one by his coat-collar, and the other by the wrist.
It appears that Piatte had returned to barracks drunk that night, and
had been taken to the lock-up, but, being in a very quiet mood when
"boozed," he had merely gone to lie down in a corner. He had been
aroused by the noise of the fight, and had immediately jumped up to
separate the belligerents. It was dark when he first tackled them, and
in the struggle he had been stabbed through the arm. In the meantime
some one had found a match and re-lighted the candle just as I emerged
from my place of safety. It was superb to see the Hercules Piatte
holding these two men, absolutely frenzied as they were, as easily as
if they had been mere babies. "Put down your knives, you beggars," he
said to them, and as the man who had begun the row, and whose wrist he
held, swore that he would do no such thing, but that he would soon have
his knife through Piatte's digestive organs, the latter gave a wrench
to his wrist which made the weapon drop to the ground. Some of us had
in the meantime disarmed the other fellow, and Piatte then addressed
them:
"Are you going to be quiet and go to sleep, you silly beggars?"
A torrent of abuse was the only reply, and the two combatants continued
to swear they would have one another's blood.
"Very well!" said Piatte. "If you are so anxious to knock each other
about here goes!" and so saying, he banged the two men one against the
other half a dozen times as if they had been mere puppets. He then let
them go. "Got enough of it, my boys?" he asked grimly.
They had apparently had quite enough of it, for they both went to
lie down moaning heavily. Curiously enough, neither of them had been
stabbed, and they had only received some insignificant scratches.
Beckoning to Piatte to come to me, I examined his wound; luckily for
him he was wearing his uniform coat, and the thickness of the cloth
had partly stopped the knife, and it had only penetrated slightly into
the flesh of his arm. It was with difficulty that I induced him to let
me bind it up with my pocket handkerchief, a trifling service which
the kind-hearted fellow never forgot, and which he repaid in more ways
than one. When the Sergeant of the Guard came at 3 A.M. to take the men
to the pump, I was ordered to stop in the cells, the Sergeant having
received special instructions to keep me there until the Major turned
up in the morning. There were two prisoners to keep me company, but
dog-tired as I was, I soon dropped off to sleep, and did not awake
till half-past six, when my friend de Lanoy came to look me up. He had
tried to find out what I was charged with, but had failed to do so; he
promised, however, to come and let me know as soon as he obtained any
information, so that I should be prepared to face the Major, before
whom I was to be brought at 10 A.M. De Lanoy also kindly suggested
sending me my washing materials and a razor, in order that I should
not look the disgraceful object I then did. Shortly afterwards the
Corporal of the Guard brought me my things, as well as a bucket and a
looking-glass, and while I was making my toilet he chattered with me
about my case.
"You're in a nice hole, old boy," he said, "and I shouldn't like to
stand in your shoes. What on earth have you been doing?"
I assured him that this was the very thing I did not know myself.
"Now that is all rot," he replied. "It must have been something, jolly
serious, too, for when the Major came to the barracks yesterday he was
in a greater rage than I have ever seen him in before. Yes," he went
on, "I really thought he would have had a fit."
I once more renewed my assurance that I was absolutely unconscious of
having done anything wrong.
"Get along with you," said the Corporal; "you won't get me to believe
that, but if you choose to keep it to yourself, do so, by all means, I
don't care." He then took my things away, and I was soon left to my own
thoughts, the two prisoners being taken out to do work. At 9 o'clock
de Lanoy returned, and told me that so far all he knew was that I had
been given four days' _Salle de Police_ by the Lieutenant who had given
me ten o'clock leave the previous day. At 10.30 A.M. the door of the
cells once more opened, and the Corporal of the Guard ordered me to
step out, whereupon I was marched off between two of the troopers of
the guard, who, with drawn swords, escorted me as far as the _Salle de
Rapport_. The _Adjudant_ soon came to the door and ordered me to walk
in, stepping out himself at the same time, and closing the door behind
him. The room was a spacious one, with a large table in the middle of
it, at which a small bald-headed man sat signing documents; his back
was turned to me whilst I stood near the door at attention. After a few
minutes' silence, only interrupted by the grating of his pen upon the
paper, the little man, without turning round, called out:
"Trooper Decle, come here."
I advanced, turned round to face him, and, as I saluted, what was my
horror at discovering that the enterprising old gentleman whose foot
had annoyed one of my lady friends in the train on the previous day,
and about whom I had passed some rather uncivil remarks, was ... my
Major!! The reason I had not recognised him as an officer was that
since I had joined the regiment he had been away on leave, and he had
only just returned. I stood at "Attention," my heart beating fast, but
the old gentleman (his age was perhaps fifty-six or fifty-seven) did
not speak a word, but stared at me from head to foot with a look that
seemed to pierce me.
"So," he said, after a few minutes' time, "we are one of these
_Volontaires_, one of these dashing _Volontaires_, who, although
they wear a Dragoon uniform, are nothing after all but dirty _petits
crêvés_. We invite painted females, who are nothing but low _cocottes_,
to come and visit us, and we parade them about the streets in a
four-horse brake when our officers are content to walk on foot! Trooper
Decle," he proceeded in a stern voice, "you are a disgrace to the
50th Dragoons. You have disgraced your uniform by a contact with such
creatures, you have disgraced yourself by passing uncalled-for remarks
on your betters, and although you are a _Volontaire_ you are a liar,
and nothing but a b---- _maquereau_."
I turned pale under the insult, but as I had determined to keep my
temper, I made no reply. This seemed to excite the gradually rising
fury of the Major, who had now risen from his chair and was pacing up
and down the room livid with rage.
"Why don't you answer?" he cried; "what have you got to say, dirty
swine that you are! I suppose you belong to the class of youngsters who
are proud to be seen in the company of _cocottes_, and afterwards leave
those ladies to settle the bill for them."
This I confess was too much for me, but still determined to outwardly
restrain my temper, I took two steps towards the Major, and crossing my
arms on my chest, looked him straight in the eyes.
"I have let you insult me, sir," I said slowly, "in order to see how
far you would go. The ladies of whom you have just spoken are, I know,
far above your contempt, and it strikes me that if they had cared to
accept your senile advances, you would probably have thought them most
divine creatures. I need not defend them, they are too well known to
require such defence," I continued, mentioning their names.
"As for myself," I went on, "you have accused me of playing the basest
part a man can play in this world. It was not through respect for the
gold stripes you wear on your sleeve that I kept silent, but through
respect for your white hairs. In a few months' time I shall no longer
be a Dragoon, and I hope that in a few years I shall be somebody, while
you will be--yourself: nothing else but one of the mass of retired
Majors whose intelligence and means will limit them to a glass of
absinthe, and a game of dominoes before dinner, and the company of a
local bailiff, or the constable of their native village. You called me
a _maquereau_ just now, and you seem to be so well acquainted with the
habits of that class, that I can only conclude that you gained that
knowledge personally at a time when nature made you more attractive
than you are now."
The Major, who had been too dumbfounded to answer a word so far, turned
pale when I uttered those words, and, seizing his riding-whip, which
lay on the table, lifted it as though about to strike me, shouting at
the same time, in a voice choked with rage, "_Misérable!_" I wrenched
the whip from his hands, and replacing it on the table stood once more
at "Attention."
"I will court-martial you," went on the Major; "you shall have ten
years for this!"
"I may or may not, sir," I replied; "but supposing I am
court-martialled, I shall bring witnesses to expose the way in which
you behaved in the train yesterday, and you may regret the step you
have taken. As to our present conversation there is only your word
against mine, but I suppose that being only a trooper my word will
stand for nothing; still, as I told you before, think well over the
matter before you do anything rash."
The Major said nothing, but went on feverishly pacing up and down the
room, he at last stopped, and sat down at the table.
"Decle," he said, "Lieutenant Riel has given your four days' _Salle
de Police_ for having told him a lie in asking for ten o'clock leave
on the pretence that you were going to meet your family, and your
punishment will be increased to fifteen days' _Salle de Police_ for
having been seen driving a four-in-hand through the town in fancy
uniform. Now, go!"
I did not wait to ask for any further explanation, being only too glad
to escape as I had. I must add that the Major was evidently persuaded
that he had put himself in the wrong, for I was never afterwards
punished by him, and in no case did he increase any punishment given to
me. The whole thing was pretty rough on me, however, as those fifteen
days meant my spending Christmas and New Year in the cells while all
my comrades were enjoying a well-deserved leave. After the eight days'
cells I had previously had, those fifteen days given to me within the
first two months of my service branded me as a bad character, and I
fully realised that in future punishments would be showered upon me.
FOOTNOTES:
[37] A fellow who shirks work.
[38] The regulation gloves for officers are brown driving-gloves,
except on special occasions, such as reviews, official calls, &c., when
white gloves have to be worn.