The southern press. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1850-1852, 1851-03-07

WEEKLY, W
Shades OF Military Life.
work under the title Of lights and Shades
of military Life" written BY two French mill
t.rv man. and edited by Sir c. J. Napier, the
prsseut British communicated in india, has
recently reached second edition in London
The first portion of the book is from the pen Of
the Count do Vigny an officer who has never
seen much service. He entered the army just
AS that human comet, Napolean, who heralded
war to Europe for so many years, was cast from
the heaven Of power, and the French armies
ceased TO feast the military spirit Of the nation
with glory. He had little Of the enthusiastic
love for his profession which usually character
ICES the soldier, but was disappointed, devoured
by ennui and finally driven by his feelings from
service whiehin his opinion offered few induce
ments to man Of intellect and was associated
with so much of misery and suffering as the
tales Of his older companions in arms unveiled.
One OF two Of these we will condense, so as to
bring them within tho limits our space neces-
sarily enforces upon us:
In his frat march, with his ambition glowing
as brightly as his maiden sword, and his hopes
vet fresh as his untarnished epauettes, M. de
Vigny falls in with an old chef de 5aitailion.-
tall and stout, his back curved, after the manner
of old infantry officers who have carried the
knapsack. His features were hard but benevo-
emit, such as you often meet with in the army,
indicating, at the same time, the natural good
ness of the heart of the man, and the callousness
induced by long use to scenes Of blood and earn
age. This old soldier of the empire is march
ing along beside little cart, drawn by sorry
mule, in which sits woman--a maniac-whose
story he tells with soldiers frankness, as a
part of his own history. The old man had
been a sailor in his youth, and at the time OF
the Directory was captain of a merchantmen
From that situation he was promoted, aristocracy
being at discount, to command the Marat, a
brig of war, and one of his first duties was to
sail with two political prisoners, young French
man and his wife. He supposed that he was to
land them at Cayenne,to which place other exiles
had previously been despatched mother vessels;
but he carried scaled orders from the Directory,
hitch were not to be opened till the vessel
reached the Equator.
On the passage, the captain and his young
passengers became greatly attached to each other
80 much SO that he wished to leave the ser
ice, and, with what fortune he had. share and
Elevate their fate. In their youth and inno-
nee, and earnest love for each other, the young
'nfortunates had twined themselves about the
ough heart of the sailor, and he regarded them
8 his children. But there was the ominous
,etter, bearing the red seals of the Directory,
which was to decide their fate-and the time ar
rived for it to be opened The seals were
broken, and what was the captains horror to
find that it contained an order for him to have
the young husband shot, and then to return
with the wife to France After he had read the
paper, he rubbed his eyes, thinking that they
must have deceived him. He could not trust
his senses. His limbs trembled beneath him
He could not trust himself to 60 near the fir
young Laura, who looked SO happy. with tidings
that would blight her existence. What was he
to do? He never seems to have thought Of
leaving the order unexecuted the iron of un
reasoning obedience had scared his soul toe
deeply for that. The horrid task, revolt at it as
he might, was duty, because he had been or
dered to do it. He communicated the order t.
his victim, who heard his fate with a stocisn
worthy of an old Roman. His only though
was for his poor young wife, so far and fond
and gentle. He said with voice as mild a,
usual ask no favoHcaptain. | should neve]
forgive myself if were to cause you to violati
your duty. | should merely like to say few
words for Laura, and / beg you to protect her
in case she should survive me, which do moi
think she will"
1t is arranged between the victim of slavsh
obedience, and the victim of the cruelty of the
reign of terror, that poor Laura should know
nothing of what was to be her husbands fate
She is put into boat at night and rowed from
the ship while the tragedy is being acted out
but she sees the flash Of the muskets, her heart
tells her too plainly what has happened, and her
reason fails under the shock. "At the moment
Of firing, she clasped her hand on her head, as
if ball had struck her brow, and sat down in
the boat without fainting, without shrieking,
without speaking, and returned to the brig with
the crew when they pleased and how they
pleased" The old captain spoke to her, but
sic did not understand him. She was mute,
rubbing her pale forehead, and trembling as
though she were afraid of everybody, and thus
remained an idiot for life. The captain returned
to France with his charge, got himself removed
into the land forces, for the sea-into which he
had cast innocent blood-was unbearable to
him; and had continued to watch over the poor
imbecile as father over his child.
NJ de Vigny saw the poor woman. He says:
f" saw two blue eyes of extraordinary size, ad-
mirabe in point of form, starting from a long,
pale, emaciated face, inundated by perfectly
straight fair hair. / saw, in truth, nothing but
Iiose Two eyes, WHICH were all Lnat was lett OF
that poor woman, for the rest of her was dead
Her forehead was red, her cheeks hollow and
white, and blush on the cheek bones. She was
crouched among the straw, so that one could
Just see her two knees rising above it. and on
them she was playing all alone at dominoes.
She looked at us for moment, trembled long
lime, smiled at me little, and began to play
again. 1t seemed to me that she was trying to
make out how her right hand bent her left" 1t
was the wreck of love and beauty, torn by the
blind slave obedience, at the bidding Of ven
geance and hate. M. de vigny was a young
and thoughtless soldier; but young and thought
less as he was, the phantom glory must have
beamed brightly indeed, to prevent him from
seeing the gloomy darkness of such shade of
military life as this, and keep him from shaking
the letters of blind obedience from intellect and
mercy. He never saw the old chef and his charge
again but he heard Of them In speaking to n
brother officer one day of the sod story, his CON-
panion in arms replied" Ah,. my dear fellow, |
knew that poor devil well. A brave man he
vas too; he was taken off by cannon ball at
Waterloo. He had, in fact, left along with the
baggage sort of crazy girl, whom we took to