‘The advanced guard is picketed in yonder pine wood, if you have any curiosity to inspect them; you’ll find them a little disorderly, perhaps, like all newly-raised levies, but I hope not discreditable allies for the great army.’
The syndic protested his sense of the favour, but begged to take all their good qualities on trust.
I then went on to assure him that I should recommend the Government to permit the range of frontier towns to preserve a complete neutrality; by scarcely any possibility could the war come to their doors; and that there was neither sound policy nor humanity in sending them to seek it elsewhere. I will not stop to recount all the arguments I employed to enforce my opinions, nor how learnedly I discussed every question of European politics. The syndic was amazed at the vast range of my acquirements, and could not help confessing it.
My interview ended by persuading him not to send on his levies of men till he had received further instructions from Munich; to supply my advanced guards with the rations and allowances intended for the others; and lastly, to advance me the sum of one hundred and seventy crown thalers, on the express pledge that the main body of my ‘marauders,’ as I took opportunity to style them, should take the road by Kempen and Durcheim, and not touch on the village of Wangheim at all.
When discussing this last point, I declared to the syndic that he was depriving himself of a very imposing sight; that the men, whatever might be said of them in point of character, were a fine-looking, daring set of rascals, neither respecting laws nor fearing punishment, and that our band, for a newly-formed one, was by no means contemptible. He resisted all these seducing prospects, and counted down his dollars with the air of a man who felt he had made a good bargain. I gave him a receipt in all form, and signed Maurice Tiernay at the foot of it as stoutly as though I had the Grand Livre de France at my back.
Let not the reader rashly condemn me for this fault, nor still more rashly conclude that I acted with a heartless and unprincipled spirit in this transaction. I own that a species of Jesuistry suggested the scheme, and that while providing for the exigencies of my own comrades, I satisfied my conscience by rendering a good service in return. The course of war, as I suspected it would, did sweep past this portion of the Bavarian Tyrol without inflicting any heavy loss. Such of the peasantry as joined the army fought under Austrian banners, and Wangheim and the other border villages had not to pay the bloody penalty of a divided allegiance. I may add, too, for conscience’ sake, that while travelling this way many years after, I stopped a day at Wangheim to point out its picturesque scenery to a fair friend who accompanied me. The village inn was kept by an old, venerable-looking man, who also discharged the functions of Vorsteher—the title Syndicus was abolished. He was, although a little cold and reserved at first, very communicative after a while, and full of stories of the old campaigns of France and Austria; amongst which he related one of a certain set of French freebooters that once passed through Wangheim, the captain having actually breakfasted with himself, and persuaded him to advance a loan of nigh two hundred thalers on the faith of the Bavarian Government.
‘He was a good-looking, dashing sort of fellow,’ said he, ‘that could sing French love-songs to the piano and jodle Tyroler Lieder for the women. My daughter took a great fancy to him, and wore his sword-knot for many a day after, till we found that he had cheated and betrayed us. Even then, however, I don’t think she gave him up, though she did not speak of him as before. This is the fellow’s writing,’ added he, producing a much-worn and much-crumpled scrap of paper from his old pocket-book, ‘and there’s his name. I have never been able to make out clearly whether it was Thierray or Iierray.’
‘I know something about him,’ said I, ‘and, with your permission, will keep the document and pay the debt. Your daughter is alive still?’
‘Ay, and married, too, at Bruck, ten miles from this.’
‘Well, if she has thrown away the old sword-knot, tell her to accept this one in memory of the French captain, who was not, at least, an ungrateful rogue’; and I detached from my sabre the rich gold tassel and cord which I wore as a general officer.