Our departure from Verdun for Bitche—Mars-la-Tour, Metz, and Sarrelouis—I receive a very useful present from Mr. Brown—Sarreguemines—A last chance—A mounted guard—Thoughts of an escape—Calculations upon a chase in a wood between horse-soldiers and prisoners on foot—Attempt resolved upon—Signal given—Flight from the prison caravan to the wood—French pursuit—A prisoner recaptured—My escape from the wood into another—My companions, I fear, less fortunate—My concealment—A swampy bed, and a stormy sky, with a torrent of rain, for a canopy—A prospective flight of nearly 800 miles—The misery of a fruitless search for lost companions—Feeding on haws, and herding with quadrupeds and vermin—A hut discovered—Hunger compels me to enter—A compromise, a bribe, female advocacy, and an escape—On the road to the Rhine—A preparation to sell life dearly—A narrow escape—Living on cabbage-stalks and raw turnips—Bad feet and worse health—A lonely house near a wood—Strong temptations to enter—A brutal host, extreme danger, and a narrow escape—Bad specimens of human nature.
Our departure from Verdun for Bitche—Mars-la-Tour, Metz, and Sarrelouis—I receive a very useful present from Mr. Brown—Sarreguemines—A last chance—A mounted guard—Thoughts of an escape—Calculations upon a chase in a wood between horse-soldiers and prisoners on foot—Attempt resolved upon—Signal given—Flight from the prison caravan to the wood—French pursuit—A prisoner recaptured—My escape from the wood into another—My companions, I fear, less fortunate—My concealment—A swampy bed, and a stormy sky, with a torrent of rain, for a canopy—A prospective flight of nearly 800 miles—The misery of a fruitless search for lost companions—Feeding on haws, and herding with quadrupeds and vermin—A hut discovered—Hunger compels me to enter—A compromise, a bribe, female advocacy, and an escape—On the road to the Rhine—A preparation to sell life dearly—A narrow escape—Living on cabbage-stalks and raw turnips—Bad feet and worse health—A lonely house near a wood—Strong temptations to enter—A brutal host, extreme danger, and a narrow escape—Bad specimens of human nature.
Onthe morning of our departure we were joined by eight culprits at twilight, and were placed in a large waggon, under a very strong escort ofgendarmerie, with a brigadier to command it. We were confined the first night in a most miserable dungeon, in a village called Mars-la-Tour. It was so very small, and there were so many of us, that we could scarcely breathe. Our allowance of straw,a pound and a half each, was given us to lie on: this strawwas so short that it had exactly the appearance of so many bundles of toothpicks. The following night we were lodged in Metz gaol. We remained here several days. At last an order came for half our number to proceed towards our destination: two others, with us four, were accordingly commanded to get ready. We were now in the hope of having another chance of getting out of the clutches of our keepers, but were much mistaken; our guard watched us closely, and we were so well secured with handcuffs and with chains that it was impossible to attempt it. We were therefore safely lodged in Sarrelouis gaol. This was a depot for captured seamen, and one of punishment for officers who might transgress prison rules; but it was many degrees superior to Bitche. Several of our countrymen obtained permission to see us; and from one (Mr. Brown, master of H.M. gun-brigMallard, lately wrecked on the coast) I received a small map of Germany, torn out of an old book of geography, which I carefully stitched in the lining of my waistcoat. We were now joined by those left in Metz prison, and were soon again on the march towards our destined habitation. The same precautions were taken for securing us, and but little or no hopes were left of our escaping. We arrived at Sarreguemines, only six or seven leagues from Bitche, and were secured, as usual, in the gaol. The next day, at about four in the afternoon, we expected to arrive at our horrible abode. In the morning our guards came with a large waggon, in which we were placed, and, to my great astonishment and delight, we were not chained. I considered this as a most wonderful circumstance, and as a favourable opportunity of escape that ought to be embraced, particularly as there could be no hopes of anyother chance; indeed, it appeared an interposition of Divine Providence in our favour. I communicated my intentions to my companions; and, after we had got out of the town, we descended from our waggon, observing to the guards that we preferred walking a little. Mr. Essel remained in the waggon. Messrs. Ashworth and Tuthill, and Baker, of the merchant service, with myself, were walking ahead of the waggon. We had not got more than two or three miles when I discovered a wood at about one hundred and fifty yards from the road: our guards were about fifty yards behind us, and were on horseback. In so unequal a chase, a chase between man and horse, we might be overtaken in our run to the wood; but if we could once reach that point, we were safe, for, although there were no leaves on the trees, we were certain that our mounted guards could not pursue us without a great deal of difficulty, owing to the branches and underwood; and, should they dismount, accoutred as they were, and with their heavy boots, we knew that we could outrun them with the greatest ease.
At length the most interesting and anxious moment arrived. We were on the spot where the attempt could be made better than at any other. I gave my friends the signal—a loud cheer. Away we ran: the startled guards dug their spurs into their horses, and galloped at our heels with the utmost speed. The ground was very heavy, a ploughed field being the space between the road and wood. Poor Baker fell, and was instantly seized and conducted back to the waggon with a sabre over him, and a pistol ready to do its office, should he attempt again to escape. We were more fortunate. We got into the wood, dodging thegendarmesthrough brier, brake, and
Escape of the Author and his Companions. London. Edward Arnold. 1902.Escape of the Author and his Companions. London. Edward Arnold. 1902.London Edward Arnold, 1902.
entanglement. I and my companions crossed each other several times, out of breath, and I could barely cry to them to keep behind trees and avoid pistol-shots; for the guards were leaping, plunging, and riding in all directions, roaring out, in the greatest rage, the words, “Arrétez, coquins!” etc. These not very agreeable epithets, in hoarse French, assailed our ears from every point. At length my pursuers gave up the chase of me to follow my companions; and, fortunately, finding a good tree between me and the foe, I sat down to catch my breath and consider what I should do. The moment I lost sight of thegendarmes, I bounded towards the side of the wood opposite to the direction they had taken, and I perceived an extensive plain, terminating in one direction in a wood, which seemed not much more than a mile off. Without any more deliberation I darted into the plain; its extent was about a mile; and by the time I had reached the middle I was so out of breath that I was obliged to stop a few minutes, and I therefore fell flat on my face, with my mouth open, and close to the earth; and the relief was astonishing. I lay close to the ground, that I might not be discovered. However, another run brought me to the wood. Having thus far so providentially escaped, I began to consider what steps I had better take next; and, after resting a few minutes again to recover my exhausted strength, I determined on quitting this wood, and at the extremity opposite to that at which I calculated my pursuers might be looking out for me, as I thought they would naturally take that direction, when a diligent search had convinced them that I was not in the wood into which we had first entered. Besides, I saw that the first wood was now entirely surrounded by the peasantry;for, it being Sunday, all had been idle, and men, women, and children caught the alarm, and hurried like wolves to the chase. The French Government at this time gave a reward of fifty livres, or £2. 1s. 8d., to any person who should recapture a prisoner of war that had escaped from prison or from an escort, and this brought out such a prodigious concourse of eager people, as to leave me but very little hope of remaining in safety in any place where it could be even suspected that a man might be concealed.
On quitting this wood I conjectured that I was about three or four miles from the road from which I had at first escaped. Immense plains, stubble ground, meadows, fields fallow and ploughed, presented themselves to my view, with the river Sarre close to the southward of me, but extremely rapid, and no part of it fordable. My case appeared desperate; and, to avoid suspicion, I thought the best method would be to walk deliberately across those plains, taking a different direction from that of every other person in them, but without appearing to avoid any. I put a night-cap on, which I had in my pocket, instead of the beaver-cap I usually wore—the night-cap being a common dress with the peasantry of Lorraine. I passed several of them at very short distances, stopping frequently, and seeming to walk very carelessly. At length I found myself in a small vale, through which ran two small rivulets, forming a little kind of island, that was covered with one hawthorn-bush, briers, etc., sufficiently large to conceal one man. This I considered admirably well calculated for a hiding-place; for, as it was so excessively small and wet, I was of opinion nobody would even think of searching it. I entered it, and was so completelycovered as to be scarcely able to discern the part through which I had first penetrated. I found it in one sense very uncomfortable—I mean with respect to the mud, wet, and dirt that I was obliged to wallow in; but otherwise it was a perfect paradise to me; and all I regretted was not having my poor comrades somewhere near me, although I comforted myself in feeling assured that they must all have escaped, even those who did not run in the beginning, as they were left with only the waggoner, the guards having gone in pursuit of us. I was, indeed, some time afterwards informed that not one of the remaining eight ever attempted to quit the waggoner, but were quietly conducted to Bitche, where, as the reader will find, I was again compelled to rejoin them.[12]
This was Sunday, 15th November 1807, and I lay cold and quietly enough in my wet and muddy bed, anxiously wishing night to arrive, and dispel part of my apprehensions. I was obliged frequently to shift from one side to the other, the cold and moisture becoming extremely severe and distressing. In a short time I was wet through in every part of my body, and found the cold intense, for when I lay down in the mud I was in a profuse state of perspiration. It did not relieve my miseries to hear either the alarm-bells ringing in the adjacent villages, or the whistling, howling, and shouting of the peasantry: what was still worse, I was frequently startled by voices close to me.
But now the much-desired moment of darkness drewnear: the sun was descending; but, to my great discomfiture and mortification, with every appearance of bad weather. It already began to rain very hard, which obscured the moon, then about eight or nine days old. Reflecting on my present state, I found it truly pitiable. I had only the small old map I have already mentioned, to direct my course; and I was without compass, guide, clothes, meat, drink, or companion, and the dreary month of November was setting in with more than its usual inclemency. The nearest friendly town was Salzburg, in Austria, and that was between seven and eight hundred miles distant. This was enough to chill the ardour and paralyse the exertions of the most dauntless; nevertheless, my having escaped from the grasp of tyrants, and become my own master, more than compensated, in my estimation, for a thousand hardships, sufferings, and dangers.
About half-past seven I ventured out, shook, cleaned, and washed the mud off my clothes as well as I could, and recommending myself to a merciful Creator, by whose bountiful clemency I had been this day so miraculously protected, I proceeded with great caution towards the wood in which I had separated from my companions, for I supposed that they would keep in it, or perhaps return there to meet me. It rained very hard, and everything was profoundly silent. I traversed the woods for three or four miles in different directions; but all to no purpose. Now and then I ventured to whistle, which was the signal formerly established amongst us, but all without success. I remained alone, dispirited, hungry, cold, fatigued, and drenched with rain. The risk was too great to venture on the high-road; and yet I was so nearly perishing withcold and wet that it was impossible to remain in my place of concealment. I therefore kept running and walking onward during the night, frequently impeded by the course of the Sarre, which confused me greatly. At length, being very much fatigued, and finding a convenient wood, though destitute of leaves, I got into it, and concealed myself in a tolerably good part, a little before daylight. I never recollect feeling or suffering so much from cold: it had rained incessantly all this day. The whole of this day (the 16th) I was surrounded by moles, rats, and other small animals somewhat like squirrels; the rats often approached so near as to lick my shoes. Their tricks and advances rather amused me, and abated in some measure the lowness and disquietude of my mind. At the close of the evening a swineherd passed by, conducting his hogs near my hiding-place. I saw him very distinctly. One of the pigs took flight exactly towards me: he sent his dog in pursuit of it; which, providentially, turned it back, otherwise it would have absolutely run over me.
About eight o’clock I quitted my retreat. The night was again very bad. It kept blowing and raining very hard, and I was at a loss to know what direction to take; for never did darker and thicker clouds obscure the light of heaven. About nine o’clock I discovered a small hut, and I imagined that I had an opportunity of endeavouring to procure a morsel of food of some kind. I reconnoitred it with a trembling earnestness, and at last most cautiously approached the door. The struggle between my eager desire to procure some sustenance, without which I must perish, and the dread of being arrested in the attempt, may be conceived, but cannot be described. After deliberating some length of time, hunger preponderated over eventhe dread of my being again led to my dungeon; and, with a trembling hand, I at length knocked at the door. It was opened by a woman. I humbly asked for some bread in German, which is the language spoken by the peasantry of Lorraine. She made signs for me to enter, which I did.
There were three men and another woman in the house. An elderly man, who was the only one of the party that could speak French, instantly told me, “He was certain that I was one of the English prisoners who had escaped from the guard on the preceding day.” He added, “That one of the guard had just quitted the hut: he had been in search of the fugitives all day, and had called on his way home to give the present company information.” I did not dispute who or what I was. The fellow proceeded to dwell on the reward offifty livreswhich the Government gave for arresting a prisoner of war. “Fifty livres,” he added, “was an object to poor people like them.” I perfectly understood his drift, and merely observed, “That, although the Government promised the reward, they were not certain when it might be paid.” I afterwards appealed to his honour and feelings, and asked him, “What honest man, for so paltry a recompense or amount, would prevent a poor prisoner of war, who had been guilty of no crime whatever, from revisiting his wife, and everything that was dear to him, after a close imprisonment for four or five years?” He explained all that I had said to the others; and I found that the women took my views of the subject, and were advocates for me. Upon this, I addressed the old man again, and said, “As you appear to me to be very worthy, honest people, accept of this trifle amongst you;” and I gave him alouis d’or. I next presentedthe women with six livres, as a mark of my respect for them, and they received the money very graciously. I saw that matters now bore, or were beginning to bear, a favourable aspect, and I accordingly took the first favourable opportunity to assure them how very sorry I was that I had not more money to give them. I next requested that they would show me the nearest way to Bitche, as I had friends there who would supply me with a little cash to enable me to proceed on my long journey. After a long discussion in German, during which I perfectly discovered their uneasiness at not having received more than thirty livres, the old man observed, “As there is but one of them, it is of no great consequence; but if they all were here, it would have been well worth while.” I could not help thinking to myself that if we had all been present we should have been such an over-match for them as to prevent their making the attempt, and I might have kept my money in my pocket. I again repeated my wish to be directed towards Bitche. I knew that there was a direct road from Bitche to the Rhine, and this was my reason for wishing to go that way. The women again pleaded in my favour, and at length the two young men got up and offered their services. I accepted the offer, and they equipped themselves, and announced that they were ready. I took a most joyful leave of the women and old man, and followed my guides, inexpressibly rejoiced at getting out of this danger; though I did not consider myself perfectly safe whilst I remained with these men.
My suspicions and alarm grew stronger and stronger; for they conducted me through very narrow, intricate ways, through deserted places, and over heaths and commons; and they generally kept behind me; while Iobserved they were always whispering together. I had, at the best, no great opinion of them; and these circumstances were so suspicious that I feigned occasion to remain behind a little while; and this time I occupied in concealing my watch, money, and the small map, all of which had hitherto been in a pocket of my pantaloons. This being done, I advanced, assumed a light and satisfied air, but took good care not again to take the lead of them. About midnight the men left me, on a pathway to the road to Bitche, and took their leave. I felt much pleased at so happy a deliverance, and continued in that direction until about three o’clock; when, supposing myself near enough to that unhappy mansion (Bitche), I directed my course (as I thought) towards the Rhine. Some time before daylight it ceased raining; the stars showed themselves, and I had the mortification of discovering that I had been going diametrically opposite to my proper course.
In this unhappy dilemma I kept advancing, being confident that I had passed no secure retreat. At length, some time after daylight, I discovered a very thin wood on the side of a hill, which I immediately betook myself to, and there I remained until night. Here I managed to get a dry shave. My gold watch, hung upon a bush, was my only looking-glass; but the razor was a tolerablygood one. There was a drizzling rain the whole of the day, and the cold was extreme.
At night, about the usual time, I commenced my journey, and took the direction back, going over the ground which I had followed the preceding morning; and I confess, notwithstanding my disappointment, I felt some consolation in knowing I was at length in the right track. During the whole of this night, my escapes from beingdashed to pieces by repeated falls down precipices, which the darkness concealed, were quite incredible. About eleven I felt very much harassed, from crossing fields, morasses, gullies, and ditches; and happening to hit the high-road, I resolved to follow it for some time, especially as I thought it my direct way, but could not be certain, as the moon and stars were still obscured. I supposed it was too late for travellers to interrupt me. However, after quitting a wood on the side of the road, whence I had to crawl up a sort of gravel-pit to get on it, imagine my astonishment!—I had no sooner stepped on the road than I was challenged—“Qui vive?” (“Who goes there!”) in an audible voice, by agendarmeon horseback. I made but one jump down the gravel-pit, and crawled thence back into the wood; where I remained for some time to gather strength, being sadly exhausted. I then proceeded along the wood, without having any idea where I was going, the night still very dark, wet, and inclement. I fortunately fell in with a cabbage-garden, close to a cottage near the wood, and ate plentifully, and I stowed a good supply in my pockets for the ensuing day. Afterwards I re-entered the wood, in which I remained all day. After dark I recommenced my journey. This was the most severe night, if possible, I had yet experienced: the roads, pathways, and fields were deep and heavy from the constant rains; rivulets had become dangerous rivers, and I had to wade through several. I had an opportunity again this night of feasting upon cabbage-stalks, leaves, and turnips, and filled my pockets plentifully.
My feet now began to blister and to get very sore; and I was likewise becoming emaciated and very weak—it being my fifth day of living upon cabbage leaves, stalks,and raw turnips. In my first attempt at flight our food used to be occasionally nuts, apples, and grapes; now turnips and cabbages were my only resource.
About half-past two in the morning I perceived a small lonely house on the side of the wood. My necessities induced me to imagine that I might approach it without danger, and endeavour to procure some refreshment. I saw a light in the window, got close to the door, peeped through the keyhole and window alternately, and at last saw a woman spinning by a rousing fire. The effect was electrical. What could be more thrilling to a man in my deplorable state than to behold the cleanly hearth, the blazing fire, and happy industry, amidst the comforts and simple ornaments of the cottage? Oh, how anxiously did I wish to be seated by that brilliant fire! The physical wants of drooping nature prevailed, and seizing the knocker, my astonished ears heard its sound. The door was opened by a man, who surveyed me from top to toe. I was covered all over with mud, nor was there a thread about me that was not saturated with rain. He could clearly perceive from my miserable appearance and woeful aspect that I had been for a long time secluded from my fellow-creatures, and had been doomed to associate, or rather herd, with the animals that inhabit the caves and forests. Whilst the fellow remained with his eyes riveted upon me, I assured him in French that I was thirsty, and asked him if he would have the kindness to give me something to drink. He could not speak French, but he made me understand that he had nothing whatever to give me. I discovered a pail of water, and pointing to it with a supplicating gesture, the churl brought me a ladleful of it. I then took the liberty of sitting down by the fire, thoughthe inhospitable boor or wife never asked me. I as little liked the appearance of the place as I did that of its brutal owner; and as it presented to my view not a single thing, except the fire, that could be of the slightest service to me, I resolved to take my departure. I asked him the road to Strasbourg, and the reply was that it was close by. I was about to quit the fireside, when a tailor arrived to work for the family. He also began to survey me closely, and having examined me from head to foot, I heard him whisper to the man of the house, and clearly distinguished the wordsEngländerandBitche. In fact, the uncharitable varlet had revealed the truth, that I was an Englishman escaping from Bitche. He then addressed me, and asked if I were a person authorised to travel?—whether I had a passport?—with several other questions of the same tendency.
Exhausted as I was, I saw that boldness in this case was my only buckler; so turning fiercely upon him, I replied that he must be a very impudent fellow to take the liberty of asking such questions,—that I should not condescend to answer an inquisitive gossiping rascal of his description; and I wished to know by what authority he could presume to interrogate me in so unhandsome a manner. The fellow pretended to smile; but he had not expected a retort so vigorous, as I saw evidently that he was disconcerted, if not frightened. I next observed to the landlord that the extreme inclemency of the weather alone had occasioned my stopping at his house, particularly as I had seen neither town, village, nor public-house contiguous to it. I added that as there were no hopes of the weather clearing up, I should continue my road to Strasbourg, which the fellow assured me was twelveleagues off, whilst Bitche was only three. At this information I was distressed and mortified to find what little progress I had made in so many days, or rather nights. The whole party sat down to breakfast without asking the weather-beaten, way-bewildered stranger to partake of their meal; so he, of course, took his leave of these selfish and unfeeling specimens of human nature; and exchanging the blazing fire for the unpitying elements, he pursued his solitary journey, disgusted that aught so base as what he had witnessed could be found under the human form.
An inclement season—A retreat in a cavern—Somnambulism—The discovery of a shepherd’s hut—A traveller put out of a wrong road—Swimming in a winter’s night—Passing through a mill—A suspicious traveller may be an honest man—A Lorraine cottage seen through a fog—Dangers from over-kind people—Repugnance to be introduced to a mayor or any other good society—Concealment in a hollow willow—An honest fellow-traveller of fugitive reminiscences—An ingenious fiction—A perspective of Strasbourg.
An inclement season—A retreat in a cavern—Somnambulism—The discovery of a shepherd’s hut—A traveller put out of a wrong road—Swimming in a winter’s night—Passing through a mill—A suspicious traveller may be an honest man—A Lorraine cottage seen through a fog—Dangers from over-kind people—Repugnance to be introduced to a mayor or any other good society—Concealment in a hollow willow—An honest fellow-traveller of fugitive reminiscences—An ingenious fiction—A perspective of Strasbourg.
Theinauspicious month of November 1807 seemed to take a malignant cognisance of my enterprises, and to visit me with more than its usual severities. To prevent suspicion, I walked boldly on the road. It rained excessively heavy, and I was sure that nobody who had any possibility of remaining under cover would be in the way to interrupt me. After advancing a short distance, on turning back I observed myfriendthe tailor, with all the rest, watching which way I went. I therefore continued the road until I lost sight of the house, and proceeded, hungry and wet, but tolerably well pleased at getting so well off. I now discovered a high mountain with rocks and pines, contiguous to the road; and I imagined I might find a more hospitable retreat in some cavern amongst those rocks than in the house which my fellow-creatures occupied. Not wishing to remain exposed anylonger on the highway, I scrambled up, and reached the summit. There I found an excellent dry cavern under an immense rock. I crept into it and shortly fell into a profound sleep; in which state I remained until I was disturbed by the grunting of wild hogs that came to banish the unfortunate and forlorn usurper who had so illegally taken possession of their habitation. I found it quite dusk, and about the time I should recommence my journey. I descended on the Strasbourg road, and kept running with little intermission the whole of the night, notwithstanding the excruciating pain I felt from my blistered feet.
About midnight, having halted to listen if there were any noise or footsteps to be heard on the road, I plainly discovered, by the cracking of whips, that a coach or waggon was advancing. I therefore retired a few steps from the roadside and lay close down. It passed, and, as far as I dared to peep at it, appeared to be a diligence, or a very heavy travelling coach. I then resumed my route; kept running on, and passed several villages, until a little before daylight, conjecturing that I could not be far from the Rhine. I secured my lodging in a wood for the ensuing day.
Looking about for the best shelter and accommodation, I perceived a cavern under a rock far above me. It was apparently formed by the hand of nature and time; and the rock, from its stupendous summit, displayed an immense precipice, well calculated to inspire the feelings of awe and admiration which are derived from the view of beautiful and sublime scenery. But I was in no mood to contemplate scenery, or to enjoy either beauty or sublimity. My thoughts were all absorbed in procuring shelter from bittercold, from piercing winds and drenching rain, and, from what was worse than all these, the hostile hand of unfeeling man.
I determined, if possible, to scale this alarming height. It was still dark, and this added to my perils and difficulties. In this exertion I climbed on my knees, clinging to roots, clumps of dwarf trees, or to tufts of the thick, coarse herbage; and if a single hold had given way, I must have been dashed to pieces. Panting, and nearly exhausted, I at last reached the top; and recovering my breath, I refreshed myself with the few cabbage stumps which I had procured in passing the villages; and entering the cavern, I threw myself on the ground, and instantly fell into what may be almost called a stupor rather than a sleep.
My spirits were extremely agitated during the whole of the time I was in this lurking-place. I awoke frequently, talking quite loud, and naming the gentlemen that had been my former companions, holding conversation with them as if they were actually present. Some time after I had experienced a short and disturbed repose, I started up all of a sudden, and desired my companions to rise and renew their journey; when, on recovering from my delirium, and looking round, to my inexpressible amazement I discovered than I was actually at the bottom of the precipice, and that it was quite daylight. This precipice was very steep, and, I repeat it, alarmingly dangerous, even to a man with all his senses collected, and in the open day; and how I came again to the bottom of it alive, I am utterly unable to explain. After collecting my scattered ideas, which was no easy task, I hastened into the wood again, for it rained very heavily, and prostrated myself in the most humble, devout, and, I trust, sinceremanner, before the great Disposer of all events, offering up my most earnest and heartfelt thanks for the great mercies and protection so bountifully bestowed upon me on this most marvellous occasion. During this day I crossed several mountains covered with trees, and at length found a very comfortable cave, full of nice dry leaves, on the declivity of a hill. From the continued chain of lofty, wild, and barren mountains that surrounded me, I had very serious apprehensions that this might be the lair of wolves or of some wild beasts; but I entered it, and found it lofty enough to sit upright in. I took off my coat, squeezed out the water, and, after refreshing myself with my usual fare, I lay down on the earth, and covering myself with leaves, and my coat over all, I went to sleep.
About dusk I was awakened by the chattering of a jay at the mouth of the cavern. The image of this bird is now fresh in my recollection, and will remain so as long as I live. I crawled out of this, which proved to me so safe a retreat, shook myself, and put on my wet coat. It had every appearance of a fine night, with an inclination to frost. I consoled myself with the calculation that I could not be more than three leagues from Strasbourg. After descending the mountain, I discovered a peasant’s hut in the vale; and, let the danger be what it might, I determined at all hazards to ascertain at this place what was really my distance from the Rhine. I accordingly entered, and found a young man, woman, and child sitting round a fire. Unfortunately they could speak nothing butpatoisGerman, and I was about to retreat, vexed in the extreme that we were unintelligible to each other; when, just as I was leaving the hut, an old man met me at the door. He stared at me with his eyes full of wonder, and as soon ashe recovered his self-possession he asked me if I were a Frenchman. “Yes,” I replied; “and I have missed my way in crossing the mountains; and I will be obliged to you if you will put meen routeto Strasbourg.” The fellow was kind of heart and civil of manners. He put me on the right road, and gave me the names of all the villages I should have to pass through; but my spirits sank within me when he concluded by saying that I was only twelve leagues from Strasbourg. “Twelve leagues!” I exclaimed, with dismay; but I took my leave of this old man, and proceeded, heavy of heart, on my apparently interminable journey. I could not account for this great distance, except on the ground of my having been directed wrong by the former inhospitable wretches that had driven me from their fireside.
My humble hosts on this occasion had nothing to give me to eat, and they really appeared sorry for it; but before my departure they offered me some brandy and water, for which I was grateful, got change for a Napoleon, and paid them liberally.
At this time my feet were so very much swollen and very sore that I could not wear my shoes; but I kept my stockings on until the foot parts of them were worn out, and even then I found their legs of great service in frosty weather. So far from refreshing me, the brandy and water I had taken made me very ill.
The grateful idea of being at last in a fair way of succeeding and overcoming all difficulties began now to be highly cherished. I found myself on an excellent road, got a supply of very fine turnips out of an adjoining garden, and discovered regular posts on the roadside. I kept running all night, with very little intermission,resolved, at all events, to get near the Rhine before morning. The road continued for about four leagues through a wood. On leaving this wood I was brought to a stand all of a sudden by the walls of a town, which, according to the names I had received from the old man, was Haguenau; but I had never supposed that the road led through it, or that it was walled in. It was also surrounded by a river, which appeared an insurmountable barrier to my proceeding. It required much resolution (owing to the frost) to take to the water; however, there was no alternative, necessity has no law, so I stripped, and, fortunately, swam and waded through one branch of it. On the other branch I observed a mill, with the house built on an arch, so as to let the water flow under it. Upon a strict survey, I perceived that if I could pass this branch, I should be able to make a circuit round the town, and to get clear off. I approached, saw the mill-door open, and the road on the opposite side. I was naked, ready to plunge in this stream as I had into the other, had necessity required it; but I retired to a shelter, put on my clothes, and, with a palpitating heart, I passed through the mill, without hearing any noise but that of the works. The passage seemed to me to be a thoroughfare for the people who brought their corn to be ground, if not for the population generally.
I now walked towards Strasbourg, with the cheering confidence that I was on the proper road. At about half-past three I was a little startled by hearing a man cough at a short distance behind me. I did not quicken my pace; but, on the contrary, in order to avoid suspicion, I rather slackened it. He soon overtook me, saluted me civilly in very broken French, and expressed his surprisethat I had been able to get out of town so early. This was a shrewd, and to me a very unpleasant, observation.
I told my most unwelcome companion that I believed I was the first out of the town that morning. I pretended to be of opinion that it was past five o’clock, and said that I believed it was usual to open the gates of the town about that hour. He rejoined, “That it was more likely to be nearer three than five;” and added, “that he wondered to see me barefooted.” I began to dislike the style of conversation exceedingly; but I assumed tranquillity, if I had it not; and I told him I was a soldier, and that, after the severe campaigns we lately had had in Prussia and against the Russians, we were insensible to cold and indifferent to all weathers. He assented to all I said, commending my zeal, and declaring that “we soldiers were wonderful fellows.” I was glad to hear him say that he was a butcher, going to purchase cattle; and still more glad when he told me that “he could not bear me company for more than two miles farther.” Strasbourg was about three leagues off. At the distance he had named he took leave of me, inviting me to accept a dram from him at a public-house on the roadside. I excused myself, observing, “That I had never been accustomed to drink so early.” The excuse had at least a military probability about it, for in France I found the soldiers remarkably sober.
The day was breaking fast, and I was approaching a large town, which made it necessary to get off the highway; so I took the first path to the right, determining to leave Strasbourg on the left, as it was my intention to proceed to Switzerland, if I found any considerable obstacle in attempting to cross the Rhine. I advanced about two or three miles through the fields, then sat down, wiped myfeet, and got my shoes (with the legs of my stockings) on, though with great difficulty, as my feet were still very much swelled, and the skin had been partly peeled off. I limped on in great pain, the morning was very hazy and disagreeable, and I felt excessively weak. The heat of my feet parched the upper leather of the shoes to that degree that I was frequently obliged to stand in a pool or wet place to cool and soften them. Roving about in the open fields, in excruciating pain and under the greatest dejection of spirits, without being able to discover a hiding-place, I remained for some time undetermined how to act.
At length I heard a bell ring, and conjectured it must be in some small village. The fog was so thick that I could not see any distance. I directed my course towards the sound, and found what I had supposed. The village appeared to be a very poor one. After a great deal of hesitation I resolved to approach the next house, or cottage, to me. My pretext was, to inquire my distance from the road to Strasbourg. This I accordingly did. I found two young women spinning flax, dressed genteelly, after the German manner. They could not understand me. I made signals that I was thirsty; when one of them brought me some milk, which I swallowed with great eagerness. I offered payment, but she would not take any, and made me understand how sorry they were that they could not speak French. After this, one went out, and shortly returned with a man, who spoke a little broken French: the less, and the more broken, the better for me, for this excused me from being too explicit or communicative. I could willingly have declined her well-meant but officious services.
What were my feelings may be easily imagined, whenmy civil instructor engagingly informed me that the mayor of the village was the only man amongst them who spoke my language correctly. At that moment I entertained a most uncharitable wish as to the locality in which his worship might be confined, at least until I could escape. Imagine then what my sensations were when my most officiously kind communicant politely assured me, “That the young woman had been in search of the mayor; that his worship was not at home: he was, however, expected every minute; and that immediately he returned he would do himself the pleasure of coming and conversing with me.” He concluded by assuring me that the mayor delighted in paying his respects to strangers. I almost wished that Beelzebub himself had had this polite mayor in his clutches, or that his worship was thrice triply surrounded by the fairies, by the demons of Freischütz, if not by the worse imps of another place. All the visions of a good cheer, an excellent fire, repose and concealment amongst apparently some of “the best people in the world,” were destroyed in a moment. I suddenly arose, and assuming a tone of great gratitude and a sense of obligations, I thanked them cordially for their hospitality, and thanked them most hypocritically for their extreme goodness in wishing to procure me the honour of a visit from the mayor; and I expressed my great regret that I could not wait to receive his worship, as I was in the greatest haste to get to Strasbourg. Saying this, I left the house.
I limped on through the fields as fast as I could, every now and then looking behind me to see if these well-intentioned people were watching which way I took; or rather, whether their officious kindness had led to a pursuit of me. The weather was, fortunately, thick andhazy, and I advanced through the fields, carefully avoiding those in which I could perceive people at work. I had an opportunity this day of getting an excellent supply of turnips. This part of the country abounds in them; they are the principal food of their cattle; and the peasantry were busily employed in piling them in heaps, and covering them with earth, as the winter store of provender. In one respect, at least, I might have thought myself reduced very much to the condition of Nebuchadnezzar, for both my food and shelter resembled those of four-footed animals. My punishment, however, was not to be so long. “My poverty, and not my will, consented.”
After a long state of suspense I descried a kind of shrubbery about a mile off, and I instantly bent my steps towards it. I found it was a thick enclosure, and well adapted for a hiding-place. Though wet to the skin, I immediately began my preparations for the night. My feet were so much worse that it was utterly impossible to get my shoes on. However, I thought I might be able to limp on by some means or other to the Rhine that night. At my usual time I hobbled forth. The night set in with incessant rain, and I found myself in a short time surrounded with marshes and rivers, and in total darkness. After wading through a multiplicity of bogs, I at length found myself in a tolerably clear country, and my feet felt better from the moisture. It was, however, useless to keep walking on, as I might increase the distance I had to go, instead of diminishing it. I therefore resolved, if I could get a convenient place, to halt until it should clear up. I espied a house at some distance and made for it, hoping to find shelter near it. It proved to be a large farmhouse. It was now about midnight. I got into theyard, and could hear the cattle in the stables and cow-houses feeding. I could not help envying the beasts that were so comfortably provided for, but my fears deterred me from attempting to join them, and I proceeded to some distance from the dwelling, into the open fields, where I discovered a few willow-trees by a large dyke, one of which was of a tolerably good size, and its trunk afforded me shelter. It was close to a pathway, which was no small encouragement, as I expected it led my way. I sat down by the willow, and earnestly prayed that the clouds might disperse, and the stars show themselves and guide me out of the misery I was overwhelmed with. Being excessively faint, I fell into a kind of slumber; and some time had elapsed, when, on a sudden, I was startled at hearing the footsteps of a man. As information was actually indispensable, and as I might not have any other opportunity of obtaining it, I determined to accost the passenger, got up, and followed him. He walked so exceedingly fast that I had to hobble, or even run, to overtake him, though the pain occasioned by doing so was excruciating. On coming up I accosted him in French, and he answered me very civilly. He was in a peasant’s garb, but I much feared that this might be merely a disguise. With some little preamble and circumlocution, I asked him my way to Strasbourg. He replied that I was on the right road, and that, as he was going there, we could accompany each other. Heaven forgive me for hypocrisy, when I assured him I should be glad of his company.
Although he spoke French tolerably well, I perceived that he had a German accent. This pleased me much, and I began to hope that by devising some very plausible tale, and by feigning to make him my confidant, he mightbe so well deceived, and so much flattered, as not to betray me, even if he were agendarmein disguise.
Putting on suitable looks and gestures, I began my story. I told him that as he appeared to be a friendly, honest kind of man, I wished to disclose to him what I was and where I was going, and that I earnestly begged for his advice. He listened to me with much complacency. I continued my narrative, and with as pathetic a tone as I could assume. I told him that I was an unfortunate conscript, a native of Switzerland; that I had lately received an account of the death of my parents, in consequence of which I had become possessed of a small independence, and that I had applied for permission to go and settle my affairs, and had been refused. My companion heard all this with such an appearance of honest sympathy that I came to my climax, and divulged that this cruel refusal had induced me to desert, and that I had determined never more to serve the French nation. I told him that I should feel quite secure if I could only get the other side of the Rhine; and concluded by saying that I relied upon his goodness to direct me, and that I had three crowns which were at his service, if he would only procure me a passage across the river. How fertile are necessity and danger in giving a poor mortal a faculty for invention!
The man continued to the last to listen to me attentively, every now and then stopping and surveying me earnestly. I did not much like his scrutinising looks. At last he desired me to be of good cheer, and said that my confidence in him was not by any means misplaced; there could not be much risk in crossing the Rhine, and he would direct me how to proceed and where to procure aboat. We had passed a small village about a mile, when he halted quite short or suddenly, felt for his tobacco-box, and exclaimed, “My God, I have lost it!” He thought he recollected where he must have dropped it. I wished to know if it was of any value, otherwise it was not worth turning back for it. He answered, “Yes, my friend, it cost me twenty sols” (tenpence). I endeavoured to dissuade him from going back, but all my entreaties proved useless. The fact was, I dreaded this was only a pretext to return to the village, in order to give information and have me arrested. He advised me to remain in a place which he pointed out until he came back. I informed him I would; yet I had no intention to keep my promise. He then quitted me, and I directed my course towards the appointed spot; but when I had lost sight of him I changed my position, and, after a severe struggle, in the most excruciating agony, I got on the legs of my stockings, my old shoes, and an old pair of gaiters which I managed to button over all. I then placed myself in a tolerably good thicket, where I could see him without being seen. Here I remained in a state of uncertainty very near a hour, when, to my great satisfaction, I saw him returning by himself. I therefore regained the appointed place before he arrived, lest he might discover my suspicions. He had not found the box, and regretted very much its loss. We were now approaching the ancient and well-known city of Strasbourg, and could very plainly see its steeples, the principal one of which is acknowledged to be one of the highest and most beautiful in Europe. But, whatever admiration I may feel for works of art, I was in that condition which disqualified me for enjoying the sight of church steeples.
The stranger now began his own history, as a return for my communicative confidence. He informed me that he was a Russian by birth, had been a long time in the French army, and had deserted the service. A Russian in the French service struck me as improbable. He then dwelt greatly on the timidity ofyoungdeserters. He when he first deserted, thought he should be arrested if he but saw the top of a steeple, and advised me to advance boldly to a part of the Rhine which he would point out, where there were fishermen that would instantly put me across for a mere trifle. I wished him to accompany me to the place, offering him two of the crowns which he had already refused. He would neither accompany me nor receive the money, but contented himself with assuring me that there was no danger. Close to the gates of this renowned city he told me that he must quit me. I therefore begged of him to accept one crown, which he received with great pleasure. I then shook hands with him, and proceeded in the direction he had pointed out. I have always since considered my meeting with this kind stranger as a providential interference in my favour, at a moment when I was quite at a loss to direct myself, and did not know which way to turn or what on earth to do.
I had proceeded about half a mile, when, from the number of country people I met going into the city, and from the singularity of my appearance and dress, particularly on a Sunday, I thought it most prudent to get off the highway, and as quickly as possible. I accordingly got into a garden hard by, and seated myself by a brook, in which, cold and unpleasant as it felt, I washed off the mud and dirt, and I scraped and cleaned myself in the best manner I could, I then advanced, passing throughseveral little villages, and crossed the river Ill in a fisherman’s small boat, and for twosols. This extraordinary success cheered and emboldened me amazingly. I afterwards proceeded eagerly to the place that had been pointed out by my providential guide, whilst my passage of the Ill gave me a new confidence in his counsel, with respect to feeling, or at least assuming assurance and composure.
In a short time I caught a view of the broad and majestic river. My heart palpitated with joy, and at length I found myself on the banks of the Rhine.