CHAPTER V.
FIGHTING AT TOULON--TERRIBLE SORTIES--EVACUATION--OFF TO CORSICA--CAPTURED BY BRIGANDS--CAPTAIN DRAKE'S FIRST FIGHT.
"Well, John, lad," Captain Drake went on, "when I embarked for the fair land of France, soon after the declaration of war, though many years older than you are now, I had never seen a shot fired in anger in all my life.
"With the 2nd battalion of our Royal Scots I embarked at Toulon.
"This great seaport was then held by the Royalists of France. Held against the army of the French Republic I mean, and held, I fear, in a somewhat shaky way.
"These Royalists had gone so far as to proclaim a successor to their murdered prince, and they prayed the British to come to their assistance.
"This we speedily did, Lord Hood taking possession of the place, to have and to hold in behalf of 'Louis XVII.'
"But, not long after this, it was entirely invested by the Republican forces. A stern and obstinate resistance was made, and for a time we were, as a rule successful.
"Sortie after sortie was made, and successfully too, and the Royalists behaved with the greatest gallantry, as they have always done, my boy, and ever will."
"Were you in those sorties?" asked John.
"No, lad; I was kept engaged behind the ramparts, for my first fight had not yet come.
"But the Republicans got so numerous, and our forces were so small compared to the great extent of fortification we had to protect, that it was at last deemed expedient to evacuate the place.
"If the whole truth must be told, as it always should be, even at the expense of one's _amour propre_, the loss of Toulon was mainly caused by the terrible artillery-fire conducted by a young officer called Napoleon Bonaparte."
"_The_ Napoleon Bonaparte?"
"No other, lad. No other."
"Then we were beaten at Toulon?"
"Certainly; that is plain English.
"Hood was obliged to evacuate. Discretion is the best part of valour, and, had he not done so, the Republicans would soon have seized the place, and not a French Royalist or a Royal Scot would have been left alive.
"But we embarked the Royalists on board our ships. We fired the Trench shipping, and blew up the magazines and arsenals.
"Ay, boy, and that was a sight I am not likely to forget till my dying day.
"But all were got safely on board at last, my own company, or rather the company to which I belonged, being the very last to leave the dockyard gates.
"It was about a year after this that an expedition was fitted out to go to Corsica. The Corsicans, as I have already told you, assented in a half-hearted kind of way to be under the dominion of the French Republic, but some of them now saw the error of their ways, and would rather hand the island over to Britain. These were in the minority, however, so we prepared to fight.
"In addition to the 1st Royals, we had six good regiments along with us.
"Well, I wasn't much of a sailor just then, and the first part of the voyage, anyhow, was far from agreeable. We were in troopers, guarded by ships of war, which kept a good look-out, I can assure you. The French had still some craft afloat, and I, for one, had no great wish to take part in a naval engagement. I hardly know, indeed, what part we would have taken; I dare say it would have been the part of 'cut and run.'
"However, we saw no foe except the elements. Crossing the Bay of Biscay was a fearful experience. The Bay has a bad name, anyhow, and this time it appeared determined to maintain it. It was not that the wind was terribly boisterous, but the waves were hills high--a seething, boiling, foaming mass. I dare say that if I were a sailor I could describe it in more nautically romantic language. It seemed to me, however, that when we got between two seas we would wallow there for a time, and then founder. Then, when we got on top of a billow, and could see about us a bit, that billow behaved in the most heartless manner, shook itself, in fact, and shook us too, then kicked us down once more into the trough of the ocean to wallow once more. Our ship rolled at times till her yard-arms stirred up the water as a Highland bull tosses a bundle of hay; then she would pretend she was going down, head first, like a sea-unicorn, scaring me out of my wits; after this, by way of a change, she would cock herself up on one end--the stern, I think seamen call it--like a poodle begging with a bit of bread on its nose.
"You may smile, John, lad, but it was no smiling matter to us. If that be the way Britannia rules the waves, I'd rather stay at home, I thought, and keep a farm. But we got into beautiful water after we passed Gibraltar. Beautiful weather, too. The poet calls the Mediterranean the Blue Levant, and no sky was ever bluer than the ocean around us was now. The worst of it was that it fell dead calm. For my part, I thought that was the best of it--I wasn't in any great hurry to fight the Corsicans.
"We got there at last all the same, and on the 22nd of May our guns shook the town of Bastia like a select assortment of juvenile earthquakes, and there was some fighting. They told me after the battle that we had taken the town in fine style, though, for the life of me, I couldn't see where the fine style came in.
"But there was more to be done yet. As for the Bastians, they were like a parcel of well-whipped schoolboys, and ready to promise anything. They gave over not only the city, but all the island, to the British. A rough lot they were, but they gave us fairly good dinners and dances. Then there was very beautiful and wild scenery further inland, and we got up shooting parties, though--bar rats, and rabbits, and half-wild pigs--there wasn't much to shoot.
"One day I got separated from my companions, and lost myself in a wood. I wandered on and on till nightfall, when I found myself in a kind of rocky glen, and close to a rude sort of a cottage without a chimney. Smoke was curling up through the roof, though, and some goats and a cow were near by.
"I was very hungry, and here I thought was a chance of getting a bite and sup, so I went boldly up and knocked.
"The door was opened after a time, but only just a little way, and one of the most awful-looking faces I have ever seen peeped round the edge. It was that of a blear-eyed hag, with dark, dishevelled rags of hair, a nose that had been smashed, and a huge cavern of a mouth, studded, apparently, with rusty nails instead of teeth.
"I suppose I didn't look very terrible; anyhow, seeing it was 'only me,' she threw the door quickly open, seized my rifle with one hand, and clapped a pistol to my brow with the other.
[Illustration: "A bleared-eyed hag clapped a pistol to my brow."]
"She speedily disarmed me, and then dragged me in and pointed to a stone in a corner near the fire. Of course I sat down, and as I didn't understand a word she said, I made signs that this Corsican lady understood, for she handed me a huge bowl of milk and some fruit.
"After this I made up my mind that it was time to go. My rifle stood near the door, and I made for that. But I never reached it. The hag seized me by the coat-tails and seated me again so roughly on the stone that I believed a bone was broken. I was a prisoner, evidently, and guarded by a woman. What a humiliating position for an officer of the 1st Royal Scots!
"But the worst was to come.
"I could see that she expected company. She stuck an extra pistol in her leathern cingle, and gave me a nod, as much as to say, 'That's for you, my pretty boy, unless you're good.' Then she set about cooking a savoury stew.
"In about a couple of hours' time I heard voices singing in the distance. They had lit two huge lamps, and immediately after the door was opened, and in walked three brigands, armed with knives and shooting-irons.
"I thought they would despatch me at once, but instead of that they stuck their hands to their sides and laughed till the shanty shook again.
"They ate like ogres, but every now and then they looked at me and laughed again. Well, there was no laughing in my heart, especially when they took to drinking next.
"But my time soon came. One fellow advanced and pulled my hat off and placed it on his own dirty head, another took my necktie, and the third my boots. Thus by degrees they stripped me naked, and that old hag looking on and enjoying the fun.
"I was afraid they would now turn me out of doors, and had made up my mind to struggle and die first. But this was not to be my fate.
"For, still laughing as if it were the best joke on earth, they rigged me out as a brigand, though a very ragged one, and stuck a huge broad-brimmed hat jauntily on my head.
"I was next led to the door, and a fellow beckoned me to follow him.
"It was a lovely star-lit and moon-lit night, with never a breath of air, a night that under other circumstances I would have enjoyed to the full.
"My guide led me on and on for nearly an hour, till at last, coming to the brow of a hill, I saw the lights of Bastia and our ships far down beneath. Then the guide disappeared.
"I had to make the best of a bad job now. So I hurried off down towards the town. Luckily our temporary barracks lay on the outskirts, for if I had been obliged to walk through the town, my adventures might have ended by someone shooting me.
"The windows of our mess-place were all open wide, and two figures were walking on the grass, Dr. McLeod and Lieutenant O'Reilly, both smoking.
"I ran towards them.
"The doctor clubbed his big fist to knock me down.
"'It's only me,' I cried; 'for goodness' sake go and tell my servant I want him at once.'
"Instead of doing anything of the sort, the doctor seized me by the shoulder, while O'Reilly caught me by the hand, and thus they ran me right into the mess-room.
"Everybody, including the colonel, was on foot in a moment; and when they saw it was only me, why the laughter of those brigands was nothing to be compared to the chorus that rang out now on all sides of me.
"When they had nearly finished, I told my dismal story, and glad enough I was to get away at last, throw off my brigand rags, and have a bath.
"But my strange story ran all through our little army--a dozen different editions of it--and it was months before I heard the last of it.
"But to return to our Corsican war, John, and my first real fight. Though the Bastians there were agreeable to give over the island to Britain, a town called Calvi still held out. It stands at the head of one of the best of Corsican harbours, and commands it.
"Calvi was going to fight. Calvi did fight, and as it could not be taken from the sea front, General Stuart determined to storm it from one side.
"A battalion of picked men was therefore formed, and embarked on board our ships with artillery and war material of every kind.
"Our Royal Scots were among the chosen, and hard indeed was the work before us.
"We were landed quite three miles from Calvi, which was as well fortified by Nature as by art.
"The road to the town and its outworks, which we had to make, led along the mountain-sides. These ended in precipices. But over these hills, and along the edge of fearful chasms, our guns had to be dragged, and batteries constructed on the very top.
"Then our fire began, and continued until at last we effected a breach in the walls of the biggest and strongest outwork, called the Morello.
"The storming of this tower and wall was entrusted to the Royals.
"The Corsicans could fight well behind walls, and the evening before the attack nothing was spoken of in our mess except the coming battle, and engagements of a similar kind that older officers than I had taken part in.
"'Ah!' said a grey-haired major, 'your work to-morrow will be mere child's play to some of the experiences I had when a youngster out in America. Driven back pell-mell again and again, sometimes under a _feu d'enfer_ that decimated our brave lads, and tore whole regiments almost to pieces.'
"This didn't tend to raise my spirits, anyhow, and I did not sleep a very great deal. When I did doze off, it was to dream I was storming terrible heights and facing fearful odds, with guns roaring around me, and men falling dead or wounded on every side. The guns in my dreams, however, were real enough, for our artillery were firing at the breach--though with uncertain aim--to prevent the enemy from repairing it.
"Next day was one of trial for me. That is for a time, and so it may be with you, lad, when you first come under fire.
"I told you I was scared, and now I'll tell you where and when the fright and nervousness came in. It was before we rushed on to the storming, and while we stood to arms, waiting for a whole hour before the signal to engage came.
"I pretended to laugh and chaff lightly with my fellow-officers. I dare say older heads saw through this mean pretence of courage and _sang-froid_. Perhaps I was a bit white about the gills. Well, there were several men in the ranks, probably, whiter than I was.
"But the signal came at last.
"'On, lads!' shouted the officer in command, drawing his sword, and pointing to the breach.
"There was a wild cheer, and our fellows rushed forwards with bayonets fixed. But the climb took the wind out of us, and silence succeeded the cheering.
"As our men began to fall here and there, and the guns roared loud in front of us, I think my heart made several attempts to jump out of my mouth.
"Then came the main charge--in the deadly breach. Our fellows did not cheer now. It was a slogan, a wild yell, that we uttered as we ran in and on.
"Now all fear had vanished. I only saw the foe in front of me. I heeded not the volleys, the blood, the clash of steel; I had no thought but that of getting hand-to-hand with the fierce defenders.
"They were borne backwards at last by the fury of our attack. Then, all at once, the cheering was renewed, and I knew we were victorious. When I looked up I saw our flag fluttering in the breeze, and, though very much out of breath, I felt not only exceedingly happy, but proud as well.
"Perhaps my pride was excusable, for I had done my share, despite the restless night I had passed, and my absurd state of 'funk' while waiting for the order to advance.
"But I had no more fighting for two years, during which time our Royals held the stronghold.
"And now, lad, off you trot, for there goes the first bugle for dinner."