common-room, and dining-hall; not by any means a sanitary arrangement, yet far better than that of prisoners of war in some other parts of the country.
Soon after the new-comers had arrived, supper was served, and as the older prisoners had waited for their arrival, they all sat down together. We will not say the tables groaned under the profusion of viands, but there certainly was enough. Every man had half a pound of beef, together with salt and vegetables, and a pound and a half of bread. The cooks were appointed from among the prisoners, and were paid by the English Government, and so we may be sure they were Frenchmen, and that those two grand features of good cookery were manifested—the most was made of what they had, and all was savoury. Being officers, too, some well supplied with money, they had wine on the table, and any other luxury they could meet with.
“To your health, my friends,” said a fine-looking
Frenchman, who had been longest in prison, and though well-dressed in civilian clothes, bore unmistakable traces of his depressing life. “We drink to your health. We have all heard of your bravery: how you did all that men could do at Vimiero, but were overwhelmed by numbers. Never mind. There are yet more than enough of Frenchmen in the Peninsula to drive the English into the sea. Let me beg a favour of you. We are very dull in this place, and need cheering. Relate to us, if you please, any individual acts of bravery that came to your notice. It will do us good, and perhaps make us dream to-night we are living soldiers again, not dead ones.”
At this, a little man from among the new arrivals, with nothing heroic about him, either in face, or mien, or stature, jumped on his legs, and with great volubility and much gesticulation, began as follows:
“You are right, monsieur, that is just what we want. I will tell you now what I myself did.
“My regiment formed part of General Brennier’s brigade, and we were ordered to attack the English left, which we did with incredible fury. We had to ascend what we thought was an accessible ridge, but we had not got far when we came to a deep ravine with rocks and water courses all about, and could only get on with extreme difficulty and much delay. From my own experience, I should say the battle ought to have been called the battle of ‘Les Sauteurs.’ [17] I did never jump so much in my life. Every step was a leap in that terrible ravine. We were just like a brigade of frogs. At last we cleared it, when we suddenly came upon a sight that made my blood boil. Six of our guns were there, captured, and guarded by a very large number. ‘Au secours!’ I roared. I am not very big, but my voice is loud. We all shouted and rushed upon the enemy. I was
the first to cut a man down at the guns, and we retook them all.”
“Bravo, bravo!” echoed around.
And then the little man added, in a much more subdued tone, “However, the English—I heard since there were two regiments of them—reformed higher up the hill, and poured a deadly volley into us, and after hard fighting got the guns back from us: and I was taken prisoner. So was also my brave general, and wounded too.”