CHAPTER V
The journey pursued—A bivouac in a wood—Dangers of being shot—Making free with an orchard—Crossing the Oise—A mode of obtaining provisions—A cabaret and a village fête—Kindness of the peasantry—Petit Essigny—Wringing drenched garments, and drying them over fading embers—A miserable landlord—A change of quarters—Luxuries of a hay-loft—A Samaritan of a hostess—Wretched sufferings of Mr. Essel—Resort to another village—A kind landlord—Sympathies for deserters—“A fellow-feeling makes men wondrous kind”—The luxuries of a clean bed—Resort to another village—A motherly hostess—A lucky road-acquaintance—Virtue and happiness in humble life—The charitable baker—Dangers from sportsmen to gentlemen hiding in woods—Mr. Essel’s illness disappearing—Increased speed not always safe to fugitives—Coldness of the weather—An hospitable farmer—A French harvest-home—Hesdin—Nieuville—Étaples—Turned out of a straw-bed—A new inn, with a gendarme in disguise in the kitchen—Bribing a landlord—No boat to be had—An old shepherd too cunning for a young lieutenant and midshipmen—Extreme difficulties—High hopes—Despondency and resources.
During the next day, the 5th of September, nothing particular occurred. At dawn, having found a convenient wood, we concealed ourselves, as usual, during the day. At night we resumed our journey, and at about eleven we came to an immensely broad road.
About midnight we found ourselves all of a sudden at the beginning of a street, the buildings of which were large, and the town surrounding it appeared considerable. This discovery astonished us the more, as the place had neither rampart nor fortification of any description, and hitherto we had been of opinion that there was not in France a town of this magnitude that was not well fortified. However, we had no time for debate or consideration, for we perceived lights in many of the windows; dogs were barking; we heard human voices in different directions; and our danger was extreme. Luckily at this moment we happened to perceive an opening, towards which we instantly made, and found it a by-lane which conducted us clear out of the town; but we still remained entirely ignorant as to what place this was, which made us determine to inquire at the first house we should approach, and in a few minutes an opportunity offered.
We perceived several huts on the roadside. Mr. Ashworth and myself advanced, leaving our companions concealed; and, knocking at the door of one of the huts, a man (as we supposed, in bed) asked what we wanted. We answered we were poor, distressed travellers, quite hungry and faint, and should be glad to know what distance we were from the next town. He told us, not above a mile from Montcornet.[11] We then proceeded, anxiously wishing for daylight, that we might ascertain on the map whereabouts Montcornet was situated.
A little before daylight, on Sunday the 6th, having crossed an inconsiderable river called the Serre, we halted in a wood not more than three leagues from this town. It was very thin, which made us shift and change our position many times before we could find any part calculated to conceal us. At last we selected a spot, which we made tolerably comfortable by breaking branches and placing them all round us.
At about two in the afternoon we were alarmed by a fowler and his pointer. The dog approached us very near, and as soon as he perceived us began to bark and yell. The master came also close to us, and kept whistling and calling to his dog, which at this time was a great distance from him, having retired precipitately on discovering us. The man kept on in a direct line in pursuit of the pointer: we perceived his legs and feet distinctly as he passed; but, from our position, were certain he did not see us. Our trepidation may easily be imagined, as well as our extreme joy at our hair-breadth escape.
At the usual hour we quitted our lair, and had the happiness to find that some apple-trees just outside the wood were covered with very excellent fruit; with which, I need scarcely observe, we all filled our pockets and knapsacks. What little biscuit we had now remaining was literally crumbled to dust, which made this supply of a juicy fruit almost a luxury. The night was excessively dark, and we had a number of awkward and severe falls.
Lieutenant Essel was now getting very much exhausted. His fatigue was extreme, and he became unable to keep up with us. From the great alteration which we had observed in his appearance during the last two or three days, we began to apprehend that he would not much longer be able to pursue the journey at any pace, and would be obliged to stop on the way. We resolved, however, at all events, to keep with him as long as possible. The alternative would be very painful.
On the next day, Monday the 7th, we surveyed our stock of provisions, and found it miserably low. We were alarmed at the discovery that of biscuit, or rather biscuit-dust, we had not even a pound, and of our only remaining article of food, sausage, our store was about in proportion. What to do in this critical situation we were very much at a loss to know. One thing, at least, was certain, that to exist we must eat, and that to eat we must have food; and hence the conclusion was evident, that our plan, in which consisted our safety—the system of avoiding towns, keeping away from houses, and shunning the approach of anything connected with human nature—could not be adhered to much longer, whilst it was difficult to conceive what other scheme could be adopted.