A FRENCH VOLUNTEER.*

MR. DOUGLAS, who is known to readers as the author of The Life and Times of Madame du Barry, is to be congratulated on the translation of this lively and entertaining volume. The Chevalier de Pontgiband "was one of the gallant little band of Frenchmen who, sick for breathing and exploit,' crossed the Atlantic to aid the American colonists to gain their independence." He was a mere lad at the time, and more than forty years passed away before, in 1828, he under- took to write the story of his adventures. There are indica- tions that the Chevalier's memory did not always stand him in good stead, and the interest of the book is also slightly lessened by a paucity of dates ; but the editor has in some measure remedied these deficiencies by his serviceable notes. The storms of life, the Chevalier informs us, began to beat upon him when he was a boy of sixteen. His mother

was dead, his father lived in his old castle, and his two uncles, with one of whom the youth lived in Paris, " with the best intentions in the world, did him all the harm they could." An aunt too, for family reasons, wished him out of the way, and ere long the boy's faults were magnified into crimes. A family council met, with the father at the head of it, while the aunt, who was bent on his destruction, went "wheezing up and down the corridor." As a result of this conference the Chevalier, charged with being of a violent character, and with refusing to do any work, was sent to the State prison, Pierre-en-Cize, with the pleasant prospect before him "of remaining locked up for the remainder of his life." No sooner had the youth set foot in his miserable cell than he resolved at any cost to escape from it. The prison regulations could not have been strict, for he was able to buy knives and to obtain, through his laundress, bullets, gunpowder, and a double-barrelled pistol. "Trust in women," the Chevalier writes, "and you will never have cause to repent it. If they consent to help you they will never betray you." About six weeks were spent in working a passage through the wall at the back of the prisoner's bed, and then seeing his way to liberty, the Chevalier sought to give his fellow-prisoners an equal chance of escape, but in this he was not successful. The scene that followed when De Pontgibaud descended by the help of sheets into the court below has more resemblance to an Adelphi melodrama than to real life. When the prisoner reached the ground the guard awaited him. The commander

was there also, and on the Chevalier presenting a pistol, ordered the soldiers to fire :— " I fancy I can still see the old sergeant, who was a friend of mine, his musket levelled, but trembling in his hands, and hear him beg of me to go back. I took no notice ; we were at fifteen paces from each other. I advanced boldly—ten or twelve muskets went off at the same moment ;—I replied with a single shot, and charged furiously into the midst of them. I heard on all sides cries of Bravo! Bravo ! ' and applause at the windows. I was assailed with the butts of muskets, and received blows of which my ribs showed the marks for long afterwards."

He escaped into a narrow lane between two walls, closely pursued by soldiers ; but on putting his back against the wall, like Scott's James Fitz-James, and telling them he

would never be taken alive, one of them said :—" Good-bye ; you are a brave young fellow. A pleasant journey, and

good luck to you." And they retreated forthwith. Some years later, after the Chevalier's exploits in America, he visited his former prison, dined with the Governor, and was

warmly received by the soldiers, who recited verses in his honour.

The Marquis de la Fayette had sailed for America to assist the Colonies in their war with England, and it was now arranged that the family scapegrace should try his fortune in the same field. His first experiences were unfortunate. The vessel was shipwrecked in Chesapeake Bay, his property

• A French Volunteer of the War of Independence. Translated and edited by Robert LI. Douglao. Patio ; Charles Carrington.

was stolen, and with a single shirt, a flask of gin, a hunk of bread, and a certificate from Mr. Jefferson, he started on foot for a journey of two hundred miles to Valley Forges, near Philadelphia, where the army was encamped. The Marquis appointed him one of his aides-de-camp, with the rank of Major, and presented him to Washington, who "possessed all those external advantages which a man born to command should have." The Chevalier's estimate of the Commander-in- Chief agrees, it is almost needless to say, with the verdict of all historians, and in his praise of La Fayette he observes that, like Washington, he incurred great expense, purchasing with his own money all that was necessary to clothe, equip, and arm his men. "The war in America," he writes, "only offered a chance of danger, privations, fatigues, and difficulties; the Marquis de la Fayette was the only one of all the young lords of the Court of France who had the courage and determination to leave the pleasures of the palace and travel eighteen hundred leagues to obtain glory without profit." While the Americans were encamped at Valley Forges and the British were passing the winter in pleasant idleness at Philadelphia, the Chevalier relates that one day a fine sporting dog came to ask for some dinner. "On its collar were the words General Howe.' It was the British commander's dog. It was sent back under a flag of truce, and General Howe replied by a warm letter of thanks to this act of courtesy on the part of his enemy, our General." The Chevalier was present at the discovery of Arnold's treachery and the capture of Major Andre. At first it was thought that the suspicious-looking person arrested was an ordinary spy, and when Colonel Hamilton was ordered to examine the accused man and to bring back a report, De Pontgiband followed the Colonel. "The low room was very dark, and as night was falling a light was brought. The Colonel sprang back in astonishment and dismay on recognising at the first glance the unfor- tunate Major Andre. The prisoner wore no military in- signia — a regimental jacket under his countryman's coat might perhaps have saved him. Deeply pained by the recog- nition, Colonel Hamilton ordered the militiamen not to lose eight of the prisoner for a moment, and hurried back to the General. 'It is Major Andre,' he cried in a tone of despair.

Washington's first words were, Take fifty horse and bring me Arnold dead or alive.' Then be at once gave orders for all the army to be under arms." It is unnecessary to repeat the details of a story so familiar. It has been said that the execution of Andre is a blot on Washington's fame, but under the circumstances justice was perhaps all that the brave young soldier could expect even from a General so merciful as Washington, since, as De Pontgiband truly states, the loss of the Fort of West Point would have proved an incalculable misfortune to the American cause.

Some of the Chevalier's notes of what he heard and saw are apt to tax the credulity of his readers. One day on being billeted at a farmer's house in New England he received a warm welcome, the owner observing that his barber lived a long way off and De Pontgiband would be able to shave him.

" Bat I cannot even shave myself," I replied, "my servant shaves me, and he will shave you also if you like."—" That's very odd," said he, "I was told that all Frenchmen were barbers and fiddlers." Here is another illustration of American simplicity :—

"When M. de la Rouarie presented himself before Congress he was attended by his valet, a tall, handsome, and very brave man named Lefevre. M. de la Rouarie at once received his commission as colonel, and so simple and inexperienced were the members of the Committee that they offered a similar commission to the valet on the strength of his good looks."

On returning to France the Chevalier was received with open arms by his father, who discovered that he had been the victim of a sordid conspiracy. He also gained a commission, and was sent to Lorient by the Marquis de la Fayette with instructions to wait there for orders :—

"During the six weeks that I spent in idleness at Lorient I was eyewitness of a most curious, ridiculous, and incredible incident. A man in uniform dashed up the staircase, rushed into the room where I was sitting, and begged me to protect him. He looked scared and anxious. It was no other than our brave—indeed, more than brave—Commodore, the famous Paul Tones. Shut the door,' he cried. That scoundrel Captain Landais met me III the town, and wants to fight me. He is pursuing me from street to street, sword in hand. I do not know how to fence, and I do not want to be killed by that rascal.' I closed the door and

double-locked it, but the Captain never came. Certainly Paul Jones acted very sensibly, for the match was not equal ; Landais. with his drawn sword, would have made short work of him, and Paul Jones had nothing but blows to gain by the encounter."

Once more the Chevalier sailed for America, and he was present when the Marquis Cornwallis found it necessary to

capitulate, although the English had "fought like devils."

In his opinion, the French officers acquired in the States those false ideas of government and philanthropy which were afterwards propagated with "such deplorable success" in France. De Pontgibaud was one of the first to gain the Order of Cincinnatus from the Republic after the recognition of the independence of the United States, and thought that this was all the reward he should receive. He was wrong, however, in this belief, and discovered afterwards that he had lost nothing "by fighting for honest people."