The Zou-Zous have a marvellous capacity for physical endurance. Some black coffee, and a biscuit or piece of hard ammunition bread steeped in it, generally formed their breakfast, and then they were able and willing to march with their very heavy knapsacks a whole day in the broiling sun before dining. A Zouave’s knapsack is full of a wonderful variety of articles, and, when in marching order, he actually carries the enormous weight of sixty pounds! But Zou-Zou is not an anchorite; he does not voluntarily endure hunger when he can lawfully, or (as some whisper) even unlawfully, obtain an appetizing addition to his rations. At Palestro, the Zouaves drolly distinguished themselves, by marching with a pleasing variety of edible prizes secured about their persons. They bore quarters of lamb, immense pieces of raw meat, salad, cabbage, and all kinds of vegetables; upon the shoulder of one was perched an old cock, tied by the foot by way of precaution! All the world knows how omnivorous Zouaves are; and, by way of illustration, we will only mention the astounding fact, that at Solferino they daintily feasted on fillets cut from the backs of the horses killed in that tremendous battle!
The Austrians sent some daring spies into the Zouave camp, fully and carefully dressed as Zou-Zous, speaking French, and affecting in all respects the habits and language of the men among whom they treacherously stole. But, as an old soldier observed, “the asses who wear lions’ skins are recognized, not by the dress, but by the language.” So it was with these Austrian spies. The touch-stone which infallibly detected them was the Arab, or rather the Sabir tongue. The Sabir is a dialect used by the Zouaves and the Turcos, and is a singular mixture of French, Italian, Maltese, Spanish and Arabian. Let us see what the Sabir can do with the wicked hawk who has stolen into the Zouave dovecot, disguised in innocent plumage like their own.
“A spy, dressed as a Zouave, holding his cap behind him, accosts other Zouaves, (true ones these). They talk of war, ambuscades, battles; they drink and sing. An old Zouave addresses the spy: ‘Didou, camarade, gib el touchran; j’ai laisse mon sipsi dans la gitoun.’ This, in Sabir, signifies, ‘Comrade, hand me some tobacco; I have forgotten my pipe in the tent.’ The spy, surprised, does not reply. ‘Enta machache narl el Arabi?’ (Dost thou not understand Arabian?) continues the Zouave. The same silence. Suspicions are aroused: the pretended Zouave is closely questioned. He is confused; he confounds Blidah with Orléansville: finally he is seized, and duly shot.”
No body of men attracted more notice, on first landing in Italy, than the 3rd Zouaves. Nearly all the officers had risen from the ranks, or, at any rate, all had been sub-officers, and had won their epaulettes and crosses in Africa. The men could reckon a number of years’ service, both in Africa and the Crimea. Their flag was in tatters, and tied together with shoemaker’s thread.
At Palestro, these 3rd Zouaves performed a brilliant feat of arms. A wounded Zou-Zou subsequently described it most graphically. “We were,” said he, “very tranquilly opposite a rivulet; we beheld five or six horsemen upon an eminence; it was said that they must be enemy’s hussars, watching us, and the word passed to prepare to have a chat with them. But all in a moment, and without a note of warning, a parcel of bullets, accompanied by a hail of cannon balls, saluted us. The rogues had mounted cannon on the hills, and their tirailleurs skulked in the corn, where one could not see them. Whilst we looked out, the mitraille[45] mingled in the conversation. The colonel saw whence it came by the smoke. The officers turned towards us. ‘Eh Zouaves!’ cried they, ‘to the cannon!’ We leapt in the stream. There was water up to our elbows, and so our cartridge boxes took a bath; we were no longer able to fire a single charge. From the stream to the batteries we had to run about 300 metres. Ah, we already surpass the pas gymnastique!
The mitraille mowed the grass around our feet. In the twinkling of an eye we carried the guns!”
Among the wounded Austrians taken prisoners, was a young man of twenty-two, who had previously studied at Paris five or six years. He fought at Palestro, and when he saw the Zouaves running and leaping with bayonets in advance, he cried, “Comrades! they are Zouaves! We are lost!”
An Austrian officer related that General Jellachich, struck with astonishment at sight of the Zouaves in action, exclaimed, “They are not men, they are tigers!” And then he muttered, “They told me so, but I did not believe it.” A good many others of his countrymen had reason to think and speak very much the same. Yet, even among the Zouaves there are some who pre-eminently distinguish themselves by their surpassing activity, daring, and successful valour.
Zou-Zou has a humour of his own even in the heat of battle—grimmest of all grim humours! Endless anecdotes are told of their strange speeches and stranger deeds in the midst of the storm of battle. Many of these would be painful to our readers, but the following give relief to the stern cruelties of war. Would that the kindly or generous feelings which they record could be displayed on more peaceful scenes!
During a bayonet fight, a Zouave fought against an Austrian, and broke his thigh with a violent butt-end blow; the Austrian, in falling, broke the arm of the Zouave. There they lay side by side, their mutual fury extinguished. The Zouave, who had a smattering of Italian, said to the Austrian, “Thou art brave, and I will not leave thee to die like a dog. I have yet an arm and a pair of good legs, and I will carry thee to the ambulance.” He was as good as his word. When he arrived with his burthen, he said to the surgeon-major. “You see, major, that we are on a level; cure us quickly, that we may do our duty afresh.” We will add, that the compassion and kindness manifested after a battle by the erewhile fierce Zouaves towards their wounded enemies, is a fine trait in their character. Like our own matchless seamen, the Zouaves, are lions whilst the battle rages, and lambs after it is ended.