the mud and wet, the soldiers all over the fields were dancing and kicking about, gay, good-humored, and frolicking, dancing with a vim and enjoyment such as only Frenchmen can exhibit. An hour passed amid such scenes, when the bugles sounded. The men instantly fell in behind the stacks, knapsacks were slung, the piles of arms broken, and immediately the utmost order and quiet reigned where less than a minute before everything had been confusion. The column moved into the road, and we were again tramping through the mire toward Yvetot. An hour or two of marching brought us to a little village, a suburb of the town, where the advance of the infantry, which I had been accompanying, halted, and I took leave of them, pushing forward alone the music of their bands as regiment after regiment arrived and was dismissed. The troops were billeted on the inhabitants, and the streets were crowded with soldiers, in groups of two or three together, their paper billets in their hands, seeking their quarters, which were easily found, as the quartermasters had been in the town in advance, and on every door-post was chalked the number of the company and regiment, and of the men who were to be quartered in the house. This is considered by no means a hardship by the inhabitants, and the soldiers were hospitably received. Military and civil life in France are closely allied, and nearly every one of the people has some relative, a son, a brother, a husband, in the army, for, as is generally known, service for a time in the in search of quarters for the night. The way led through a long ugly street, bordered with unsightly trees and small detached houses. I passed an occasional cavalryman sitting on his horse at a street corner for our cavalry, moving ahead of us, had already occupied the town-and in a few minutes reached the door of a comfortable hotel, where I was fortunate enough to find a room. It was not long, however, before the troops followed, and the air was full of land or naval forces of France is compulsory to every citizen, no matter what his position in civil life may be, and so all realize that at some time their loved ones will be cared for in the same manner in some other part of the land; therefore, as a rule, they give what they can, cheerfully and even gladly, making of the arrival of their soldier guests in their midst a sort of little fête. Place is made for them everywhere, carts and horses are unceremoniously put aside to accommodate the cav alry and artillery, and usually peaceful stable and barn yards are speedily converted into impromptu barrack grounds. The infantry had nearly all arrived, when the rumbling of heavy wheels, the clatter of iron hoofs on the paved streets, and the cracking of whips announced the approach of the artillery. Twenty-four pieces, with a like number of caissons, and the necessary wagons and forges for four batteries, the horses and guns covered with mud, the men tired and wet, wheeled up the street in front of the hotel, and went into park on the market-place. Here all was life and commotion. The guard had been told off, and occupied the Town-hall; the men for this duty were already lying on the benches under the arches of the building, while the sentry stood outside in front of the row of stacks, THE PATROL. up to his ankles in a heap of straw to keep his feet out of the mud. At one end of the house the surgeons' offices and ambulances were established. The wagons were backed up against the walls, and the ambulance tenders, hospital stewards, etc., were moving about on various errands. Through the open doorway I could see the doctor, with his assistants, examining the invalids, there being naturally a few cases of sickness among such a large number of men. There were not many, however, and the cases seemed to be light ones, for the doctor soon left, and a younger surgeon remained in charge. Under the market sheds on the opposite side of the place the rations of fresh meat were being distributed, the details taking it away in huge canvas bags, preparatory to converting it into soup. In the court-yards and gardens numerous fires were going, men of the infantry were cleaning their arms and accoutrements, cavalry and artillery men in linen jackets and overalls were taking the mud off their harness and horses. Forage for the latter was being dealt out from the wagons, the men staggering off toward the temporary stables with enormous bundles of hay or sacks of oats on their heads. Towns-people and peasants from the surrounding country were mingled with the troops, and a brisk trade in butter, eggs, poultry, and like delicacies was rapidly developed. As I left the market-place and crossed the main street on my way to the railway station, a company of troops under arms passed by. It was the detail for the grand guard and for the pickets, for now we were near the enemy, and the same precautions were taken as in actual warfare. Poor fellows, they did not look particularly cheerful at the prospect of spending the night in the open country while their comrades had such a comfortable billet as Yvetot. At the railway station the commissaries had established their head-quarters. This duty is performed by a special corps in the French service, having their own officers and training. Here the bakeries were in full operation. The bread is baked in cylindrical iron ovens, mounted on four-wheeled carriages, which accompany the troops wherever they go. The flour in this case had been brought to them by the railway, and the bakers were kneading the dough under some tents that had been pitched by the side of the track. A number of cattle were herded near, under the charge of some soldiers of the subsistence department, and some had been slaughtered but a short time ago, the meat with monsieur. There was no tattoo that night, for it is against regulations to make more noise than absolutely necessary when near the enemy. The patrol goes round, the last party of merry-makers is turned out of the cafés, and by half from which I had just seen distributed. The sun was setting as I returned to my hotel, and its rays, striking behind the trees up against the evening sky, cast long shadows on the glistening wet streets, and bathed the rows of houses in a strong flood of light. Relieving dark against their white walls were lines of troops, their forms reflected in the wet mud, standing silently and almost motionless, save for the quick movements of the manual of arms as their officers passed along their lines inspecting their pieces and accoutrements. The roll was called, the ranks were broken, and the labor of the soldiers, excepting those detailed for special duties, was over for the day. Then, as the evening advanced, the cafés filled, the click of billiard balls or the rattle of dominoes on the wooden tables, an occasional song or shout of laughter, were heard. Some of the soldiers were to be seen at the doors of their billets playing with the children, chatting with madame, or smoking an evening pipe THE SCOUT. past nine the tired soldiers, from the general down to the lowest teamster, are all in their quarters. Several days passed. We had frequent encounters with the enemy, and many interesting events took place. The day after our arrival at Yvetot was one of comparative quiet, and was passed by both parties in tactical formations and reconnoissances. On the following morning we attacked our opponents, but were repulsed, falling back upon Yvetot, and occupying a strong position on the line of hills in front of that town, where we in turn were attacked. This time, however, we had the pleasure of not only repulsing Bright and early the next morning I was up and ready for my modest share of the day's work. Although it was but a few minutes after five o'clock when I passed into the village street, not a soldier was to be seen, nor was there the slightest indication that when I went to bed the night before there had been three or four thousand infantry and half a regiment of artillery in the town. One early riser, a peasant, of whom I inquired, informed me that the troops had left before sunrise almost without a sound, and had gone up the highway back of the town, where, after a few minutes' walk and with the aid of my glass, I discovered their line, their numbers greatly increased by the arrival of numerous other detachments from the adjacent villages, extended for some distance on some hills that ran nearly due east and west of the road. They were strongly posted, their infantry occupying two villages and all the outlying farms, and their artillery massed on their right and left. With my glass I could distinctly make out their guns in battery, and the white shakos of their advanced cavalry pickets. Knowing my friends would soon be on the move, I walked back through the village to meet them. I had not long to wait, for as I scanned the edge of the forest I soon saw one or two dark objects, which I made out to be horsemen, moving out of the shadow of the trees into the fields, while simultaneously a group of a dozen or more appeared on the highway. They moved slowly forward a little way, and then halted. One or two trotted off to little eminences, stopped for a moment, and then returned to the squad still standing in the road. Then one horseman detached himself from the group, and came galloping toward me, while the others moved slowly along at a walk, those whom I had seen emerging from the woods into the fields, and whose line had since been lengthened by the arrival of others, keeping pace with them. I watched the rider as he came up the road, his half-Arab horse moving with easy strides. As they approached, the gallop subsided into a trot, and the man, rising in his stirrups, peered over the hedges into the yards and orchards at his sides, and I knew him for one of the soldiers of a troop of chasseurs-à-cheval the officers of which had been most kind and polite in their behavior toward me. Then a small body of the enemy's cavalry trotted out from behind a little farmhouse. The soldier wheeled his horse, and giving it the spurs, dashed off to rejoin his comrades, who had evidently also perceived the others, for they again halted, and one of them galloped back toward some squads of infantry that had also debouched from the woods. These latter formed a line of skirmishers on the run, and advanced across the fields until within about a thousand feet of the enemy's troopers, who, not waiting to receive their fire, turned their horses, and slowly disappeared behind the town. Again the chasseurs advanced, at first cautiously and then more boldly, until they reached the first houses, where the young lieutenant in command halted his troops, and sent half a dozen of his men scurrying round the edges of the town on both sides. They returned in a minute. or two, reporting the place evidently unoccupied and the way clear. Meanwhile we heard desultory firing over on our right and beyond our position, so pushed up the main street and out on the road to the point where I had first seen the enemy's line. My friends the chasseurs had not arrived a moment too soon, for not a hundred yards from us, crossing a wide field of turnips, we saw a number of the enemy's infantry advancing as skirmishers, with the evident intention of occupying a row of hedges and earthen walls which skirted the road, and from there delay the progress of our troops through the town. Our infantry, however, were right on our heels, and quickly seizing the hedges, at once opened fire. The enemy replied sharply, but fell back toward their main line, taking a position about half-way between it and us, and in front of a large farm surrounded by high walls and deep ditches. The firing on our right had gradually increased, and developed into a sharp skirmish fire. We could see the enemy's first line of skirmishers slowly falling back, kneeling to load and deliver their fire, and then retreating a short distance to repeat the same manoeuvre. As the houses masked the view of the approach of our troops, I made my way toward our right by a road that ran along the edge of the grounds of a fine old château, the inmates of which, ladies, children, and all, were perched on the walls of the garden enjoying the novel sight. |