ginal two hundred men instead of the large band now under arms. Anything like order or discipline was completely unknown in the force; and the first advice given me by my friends upon my arrival, was to bring my bag, coat, saddle, and everything belonging to me into the colonel's tent, and give them into the charge of the sentry, for otherwise they were sure to be stolen. It would seem that even the colonel's tent was during dark nights not always a safe place, notwithstanding a sentry staying at it, for on several occasions property disappeared there as easily as it sometimes disappears in certain quarters of London; the most tempting objects were, apparently, always eatables and boots. And when one has seen what franc-tireurs had to eat, and how badly they were booted, one was forced to allow that sheer necessity played a serious part in this chronic breach of the seventh commandment.

The increase of the legion had acted unfavorably, not only upon the discipline of the force, but also on its armament and external appearance: for as long as it consisted only of genuine Bretons there was some sort of communistic friendship among the rank and file. What belonged, to one belonged to a great extent to all the others. But when strange elements introduced themselves, all feelings of fraternity disappeared. The incorporation of the company of Provence, and of an American one, changed even the uniformity in the costume of the legion. The Breton franc-tireur, who had a plain black coat, black hat and trousers, with a blue scarf for the neck, was now mixed with the more soldier-like, red-trimmed costume of the Provence company, and with the variegated and quite unsettled dress and accoutrements of the Americans. The Provence men, as well as the "American cousins" (of whom it must be said a great number were of French extraction), brought, besides, as great a variety in the songs which were constantly sung in the camp, as in the offences committed there. The grave, melancholy airs of the Breton were now mixed with jolly melodies of the South, with loose chansons of Paris, and with that sort of American music which the continental mind does not know where to class-either with that of the Christy's Minstrels, or of the Church.

As soon as darkness began to fall

in the forest, which was usually very early, thanks to the thickness of the wood and the lateness of the season, picturesque groups were assembled round the fires, and improvised choruses resounded for a mile round the camp. About six or seven at night, the companies that were sent out in the morning in search of the enemy usually reached the camp, and, unless they had only a useless day's march to perform, every group had some more or less jocular stories to listen to about the chase given to the enemy. The Germans abhor the franc-tireurs so much, and have spoken of them in such terms, and treated them in such a manner, that there is a general belief in England that the franc-tireurs are all some sort of savages. Yet such is by no means the case. The franc-tireur legions contain only just the same amount of savages that can be found among the Mobiles and the line, and certainly less than can be be found among the zouaves. The real weakness of the franc-tireurs is that they could never manage to constitute themselves a part of a regular force, and that they were constantly used in small detachments, merely as skirmishers or partisans. Besides this, being seldom provided for by the French commissariat, even in that unsatisfactory way in which the line was provided for, they were naturally forced to provide for themselves in the best way they could. Consequently the provision-wagons, as well as the purses and articles of clothing of the enemy, were the first things for which an average franc-tireur was looking out; and on some occasions I heard, after an engagement, great discussion among the privates as to who killed this or that man, and who had a right, therefore, to take possession of the property of the deceased. Goliath (the man who prepared our coffee) seems to have been particularly lucky in this respect, for he had killed, since the formation of the legion, a considerable number of Prussian soldiers and officers, upon some of whom there was no less than five or six hundred francs; and upon one Prussian private he found even three thousand francs in French gold. But Goliath was still in despair, for he could not get a pair of boots, his foot being so enormous that he could not purchase such as would fit him;

he had never time to order any, as the legion was constantly moving about, and finally it turned out that even on the big-footed Prussians no suitable pair could be found. Goliath had only one competitor in skill in shooting, and that was the lieutenant-colonel, or, as he is called in France, Commandant of the Légion, a tall, handsome gentleman, strikingly English-looking, not only by his face and beard, but also by the quietness of his temper, and his passion for shooting and sport. There has never been any engagement of the legion, however small, in which the commandant has not taken part, even though his position did not require his presence. His carabine Minié or his Remington on his shoulder, he went out quite as a young English landlord goes out grouse-shooting; and if any Prussians or Bavarians were met with, the first of the killed was sure to be so by the commandant. He was supposed in the legion to be a thorough Republican; but thorough Republicans I spoke to among the privates said the commandant had no very precise idea of what Republicanism was, and that he was too much of a swell to be a Republican. Yet his personal courage, the, fabulous health which enabled him to endure every possible privation and discomfort, the imperturbability of his temper, and the extreme reserve of his manner, made him not only respected but ad mired by the whole legion. The colonel himself, valiant as he was, seemed to be perfectly aware of the difference which existed between his nature, that of a fils de bonne maison, whom life at sea had made romantic, and life in Paris had tired, and the nature of the tall and quiet commandant, whom habits of sport had transformed into a figure much more likely to be met with in the romances of medieval chivalry than in the reality of the present days.

Although the word franc-tireur implies always more or less good shooting on the part of the men engaged in the force, it must not be supposed that all of them are really good shots, for many an officer as well as private was never able to kill anything at all. One of my best friends in the legion, a very popular captain amongst his men, was constantly carrying his gun with him even on a mere walk; but I never saw him really killing any thing even in the shape of game, much

less in the shape of a Prussian. On one occasion, when we were following on horseback the companies which had just marched out, we had taken a shorter path, impracticable for the companies. The captain was quietly discussing with me the chances of France in the struggle in which she was engaged, when he stopped abruptly, whispering that there was a splendid piece of game crossing the path within a short distance of us, and with these words jumped off his horse and disappeared in the thick of the forest. In a few minutes I heard a shot, and saw at the same moment a small red dog, fearfully frightened, running straight in my direction. I could not help bursting into a most hearty laugh, when I saw what my friend had taken for game, at which he had so unsuccessfully shot. To his credit as a sportsman and marksman, it must be said, however, that he laughed at the blunder he made just as heartily as myself.

Generally speaking, this tendency to acknowledge their own errors, and to be able to laugh at them, seems to be a peculiar characteristic of the franc-tireurs. The rude life they lead has accustomed them to see chiefly the defects and shortcomings of human nature, and they seem to have given up every sort of illusion upon this subject. If a man is doing his duty, and does not shamefully run away in the presence of the enemy, he is sure to have at once his rights of citizenship in the legion; and all that a man may show beyond that is always welcomed, always acknowledged as a satisfactory fact, but never extolled as heroism or virtue. I have formerly noticed this peculiarity in forces voluntarily constituted in time of war, but was greatly astonished at seeing it repeated even among self-extolling Frenchmen. Breton Legion I soon saw that this prosaic turn of mind was partly due to the influence of the surgeon of the legion, an old but valiant nephew of Kléber, and a few months ago surgeon to one of the greatest industrial establishments in France. An Alsatian by birth, looking much like a German both in the face and by the manners which his profession and long stay in Germany had engendered, the doctor was constantly taken by the peasantry for a Prussian spy; and after each occurrence of that sort, angry as

In the

he was, he constantly repeated that it was only the fougue of the French people which was the cause of all the stupidities they are guilty of; that it was only the same fougue which caused their illsuccess; that it was the same fougue which caused them to overthrow a government without knowing whether they could get a better one; and that it was the same fougue again that caused them to overlook real danger, and to be struck with panic when there was no danger at all. The doctor always said that he was fully convinced at the outset that the regular French army must be beaten, and that this was the chief reason why he did not wish to take office in the regular forces. "Here at least I can make my coup de feu as well," said he. "I know that we shall never retreat unless it is absolutely impossible to hold out. While in the army I should never have anything else to do than to execute the stupid orders of a corrupted imperial istic general, and to retreat when I would be sure that both common sense and necessity required me to go forward, or at least to stay in the same place." Slightly hump-backed, dressed like an Esquimaux about to start upon a voyage round the Cape, with face and hair which would both be of a pea-soup color, if the first was not strongly reddened by a three months' exposure to the inclemency of the season, and if the latter was not already turning considerably gray, the doctor appeared always the most angry and discontented human being that ever lived; and when he looked at one over his big spectacles, one would never have thought that he was in the presence of the most good-natured fellow that could be met with. The care he took of his sick and wounded was beyond all praise, although there was neither in his manner, nor in the arrangements which he made for them, anything that could suggest the idea of what is called "kind treatment." His opinion was that in the rude circumstances to which the men were exposed, the best way was to treat them as rudely as the state of their health would allow. "It could only increase their courage and their endurance," said he; "as to the wounds, they cannot get much worse, when a man is lying in a wood, often without even straw under him, in a rainy or frosty November night."

One evening, when this bourru bienfaisant was exposing to me his philosophy, and developing the idea that the chief duty of man is constantly to prove to his fellow-beings that bad as their position may be, there might be a worse one; and that the greatest merit and the greatest virtue in men is never to complicate the circumstances in which they are placed-Goliath approached our fire and began to complain to the doctor of the wounds he had on his feet, and which had been caused by the absence of boots, or from the necessity of wearing those that were too small for him. "Well," said the doctor to me, "I just told you that the worst thing in life was to complicate a position. This fool, you see, instead of walking barefooted for a short time, has created two distinct sets of wounds on his feet, which makes the treatment more difficult and doubles the unfitness of his feet for service. Are they not a miserable set of people here? I don't know where they get them from. Look at this monstrous figure, and fancy that a man like him, weighing some five hundred kilos, is simply a poule mouillée, weeping boo! boo! at wounds he has got by his own fault. Put your stupid feet into cold water!" turned he to the poor fellow, astonished at such a reception, "and go to the d-l." And on the next morning I saw the doctor quite busy inventing some sort of sandals for Goliath

sandals of such a solid nature that I fancy the giant wears them still.

The attitude of the doctor to the moral diseases of mankind did not differ much from his attitude with regard to the physical. Meeting with a man guilty of a breach of discipline or any other offence, he was sure to assail him not less vigorously than an English policeman would have done a burglar in those rare cases when he succeeds in catching hold of one. But when the doctor had to speak of an offence without seeing the offender, the severe chastiser seemed to have completely transformed himself. I was present in the colonel's tent at a discussion which took place amongst the officers on the necessity of cashiering a sub-lieutenant of an American company, who was accused of having appropriated to himself some one else's ham and bottle of brandy. The doctor, on making himself acquainted with the facts, broke off all relations with the accused officer, treating him personally

with an open contempt amounting almost to insult; but at the discussion which was going on in the colonel's tent he expressed his opinion that there was no need whatever of cashiering the man, as the privates did not know anything about it, and therefore it could not serve them as an example. The Americans, argued he, were so much accustomed to ham and brandy that the man could not withstand the temptation of enjoying these things. "You ought to know," said he to the council sitting on the boxes and shaky camp-stools and the still more shaky bed of the colonel, "that a man of Anglo-Saxon blood cannot live without these necessaries; and you ought to have provided him with them. If you neglected this, you must not be discontented if the man takes what he wants by force or stratagem. I had better settle this affair, and simply say that we all know what he has done, and that the only way to restore his reputation is to fight twice as bravely as he did previously."

The doctor did so; and on the next day, when the legion had a rather sharp engagement at Boiscommun, one of the first men I saw wounded was the American sub-lieutenant; he was shot through the chest, and had besides a ball-wound in the shoulder. But he was still alive. The doctor attended to him as far as it was possible under a strong musketry fire, and ordered him at once to be carried back to the camp. "It is all over with the poor fellow," said he to the men who were to carry the officer back. "But do not put him into the cart. He would die on the way. Carry him gently on the stretcher." And the doctor again took his gun and began to shoot as a common private. On that day the doctor felt himself particularly happy, as the wounded were very few, and he consequently had opportunities of using up all his cartridges in the intervals of his professional work.

When the fighting was over the legion remained encamped in the neighborhood of Boiscommun and Chambon; but the doctor had to return to the forest where the wounded had been transported, and where a reserve company still remained in charge of the camp. We both started on horseback, accompanied by several officers who had to return either to arrange some affairs of their own or to provide for the provisions and ammunition of those marching out. All the small vil

lages and farms on our way were in a state of the greatest excitement on account of the fighting which had taken place, and of which they had not yet heard the result. Seeing this, the doctor said it was the best time to provide ourselves with poultry, eggs, and kindred delicacies; for as long as the Prussians were not in the neighborhood, and no fighting was going on, the peasants refused to sell anything of that sort, the whole of their surplus stock having been (they said) sold long ago. But now that the Prussians were near, they were afraid that they would lose everything. And the doctor, anticipating these thoughts of the peasants, caused us to call at several houses as we passed on our return, and at nearly every one of them we got either a couple of rabbits or a pair of fowls, our pockets and wallets being filled with eggs. The rabbits were killed before being hung to the saddle, but the poultry were tied by the legs alive and hung on each side of the pommel. We attached them the best way we could with handkerchiefs, straps, and whatever else we could get; but the fowls had a great facility in escaping from their bonds, and there was a constant hunt after fugitives. The doctor being much irritated at these mishaps, swore at the poor chickens in a most unceremonious manner. He said he was sure it was quite a natural thing to them to be carried head downwards, and he did not see what objection they could have against this manner of travelling.

Late at night, when arrived at the camp, we were assembled for a supper which Goliath speedily prepared for us of the eggs and rabbits we had brought with us; but the doctor was missing. Several men went in search of him, but unsuccessfully; and the forest being in complete darkness, and some six or eight hundred empty tents giving a fair opportunity to any one of being left in peace, if he wished so, we were forced to suppose that the doctor, being very tired, had gone to sleep in one of the empty tents. Goliath, however, who seemed to know the doctor better than any of us, at once found him when his culinary occupations were over. He discovered the brave nephew of Kléber in a tent which usually served as a club for a few citizens of Belleville and La Villette, and which bore on one of its sides the following inscription in charcoal :