‘So I have, general—this will show you where I have been’; and I handed him the livret which every soldier carries of his conduct and career.
He took the book, and casting his eyes hastily over it, exclaimed—
‘Why, what’s this, lad? You’ve been at Kehl, at Emmendingen, at Rorschach, at Huningen, through all that Black Forest affair with Moreau! You have seen smoke, then. Ay! I see honourable mention of you besides, for readiness in the field and zeal during action. What! more brandy, Girard. Why, our Irish friends must have been exceedingly thirsty. I’ve given them credit for something like ten thousand “velts” already! No matter, the poor fellows may have to put up with short rations for all this yet—and there goes my signature once more. What does that blue light mean, Girard?’ said he, pointing to a bright blue star that shone from a mast of one of the ships of war.
‘That is the signal, general, that the embarkation of the artillery is complete.’
‘Parbleu!’ said he with a laugh, ‘it need not have taken long; they’ve given in two batteries of eights, and one of them has not a gun fit for service. There goes a rocket, now. Isn’t that a signal to heave short on the anchors? Yes, to be sure. And now it is answered by the other! Ha! lads, this does look like business at last!’
The door opened as he spoke, and a naval officer entered.
‘The wind is drawing round to the south, general; we can weigh with the ebb if you wish it.’
‘Wish it!—if I wish it! Yes, with my whole heart and soul I do! I am just as sick of La Rochelle as is La Rochelle of me. The salute that announces our departure will be a feu de joie to both of us! Ay, sir, tell your captain that I need no further notice than that he is ready. Girard, see to it that the marauders are sent on board in irons. The fellows must learn at once that discipline begins when we trip our anchors. As for you,’ said he, turning to me, ‘you shall act upon my staff with provisional rank as sous-lieutenant: time will show if the grade should be confirmed. And now hasten down to the quay, and put yourself under Colonel Serasin’s orders.’
Colonel Serasin, the second in command, was, in many respects, the very opposite of Humbert Sharp, petulant, and irascible, he seemed quite to overlook the fact, that, in an expedition which was little better than a foray, there must necessarily be a great relaxation of the rules of discipline, and many irregularities at least winked at, which, in stricter seasons, would call for punishment. The consequence was, that a large proportion of our force went on board under arrest, and many actually in irons. The Irish were, without a single exception, all drunk; and the English soldiers, who had procured their liberation from imprisonment on condition of joining the expedition, had made sufficiently free with the brandy-bottle, to forget their new alliance, and vent their hatred of France and Frenchmen in expressions whose only alleviation was, that they were nearly unintelligible.
Such a scene of uproar, discord, and insubordination never was seen. The relative conditions of guard and prisoner elicited national animosities that were scarcely even dormant, and many a bloody encounter took place between those whose instinct was too powerful to feel themselves anything but enemies. A cry, too, was raised, that it was meant to betray the whole expedition to the English, whose fleet, it was asserted, had been seen off Oleron that morning; and although there was not even the shadow of a foundation for the belief, it served to increase the alarm and confusion. Whether originating or not with the Irish, I cannot say, but certainly they took advantage of it to avoid embarking; and now began a schism which threatened to wreck the whole expedition, even in the harbour.