Child of the Regiment Part 1

Child of the Regiment.

by Anonymous.

LITTLE MARY.

Not many years ago a terrible battle was fought between the soldiers of Napoleon Bonaparte and the Austrians, at a small village in Italy. The Austrians were severely beaten, and the houses of the village were set on fire by the cannon, and all burned or torn down; the poor villagers were driven from their homes, and thousands of soldiers were killed or wounded, and left to die on the ground; the Austrians tried to get away from the French, but the furious soldiers of Napoleon pursued them with their bayonets, or trampled them to death with their horses.

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In the French army was a regiment of soldiers who were called _guards_; they were all dressed alike, in blue coats and white pantaloons, trimmed with crimson and gold: they were terrible fellows to fight, and their enemies were very much afraid of them, or they were always in the thickest of the battle, clearing their way with the points of their bayonets. While this regiment was pursuing the Austrians, near the burning village, one of the Guards, an old man, saw a sweet little girl who could scarcely walk; her papa and mama had been driven from their homes, and her papa, who carried her in his arms, was killed by the soldiers. Mary, for that was her name, held up her little hands crying bitterly, as she lay among the killed and wounded; and the Old Guard, who was a brave but kind soldier, pitied her, and took her in his arms, and when the battle was ended, carried her to his tent, and calling his comrades together, told them of the little girl he had found; and no one knowing who she was, or who her parents were, they called her Mary, the Child of the Regiment, and agreed to take care of her as well as they could. Poor little Mary, she had no mama to undress her at night, and make her a little bed, but the good old Guard, gave her some of his supper and laid her down on some straw, for the soldiers have no other beds in their tents; and after laying his coat over her to keep her warm, and his haversack under her head, she sobbed awhile, and fell asleep to forget the scenes of that dreadful day. The next morning the old Guard awoke little Mary, and washed her face, and combed her hair as well as he could, for he had never taken care of a child in his life, and was almost afraid to touch her with his hard and rough hands, which he thought only fit to shoulder arms or charge bayonet with; and after taking some dried meat and hard bread for breakfast, he took her out to let her see the soldiers: they were delighted with Mary, and many of them ran to take her up in their arms, but she liked the Old Guard best, and wanted to be with him, for she was afraid of their glittering muskets, as she remembered how terrible they looked only the day before, when the noise of their guns, and deafening hurrahs had almost frightened her to death; but they were kind to her, and she afterwards loved them very much, for she said the whole of the twenty-first regiment was her father, as they called her their child, and took care of her.

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The old Guard then took little Mary to live with him, and she learned to sew and play with her doll, which he had bought for her; and delighted in filling his canteen with water, and polis.h.i.+ng his epaulettes; she would also sing and dance with him; which pleased him very much, for he loved no body but her; as he was a great many miles from his home, and had marched all the way with the army.

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At other times, when the old Guard was not with her, she amused herself by rambling through the fields gathering wild flowers, or climbing the mountains to see the army in the valley below.

At length the regiment was ordered home, and took little Mary with them.

She suffered many hards.h.i.+ps in travelling so great a journey, for sometimes she had to walk a long way, or ride on a baggage waggon, which was no better than a cart; and in crossing the Alps, they frequently slept on the cold ground, without any fire or even their suppers; and as the mountains were covered with snow and ice, poor little Mary pa.s.sed many bitter nights and tedious days; and often thought of the peaceful and happy home she had lost for ever; but the old Guard was kind to her, and often carried her on his back or in his arms a great way: and after many lone weeks, during which time a great number of the poor soldiers died from suffering and toil, they arrived in France.

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By this time she had grown up to be a fine girl; she always lived with the regiment, and had almost forgotten her papa and mama, and the battle. The old Guard had never tried to find any of her friends, for he thought they were all killed when the village was destroyed; at any rate n.o.body had ever enquired for her; and they had no hopes of finding out who she was or who her parents were. While the regiment stayed in France they were quartered near a large city, where Mary used to buy fruit and flowers for herself, and many things to please the Old Guard. She was delighted with the town, and wished to live there very much; upon which the regiment agreed to send her to a boarding school, where she soon became acquainted with many little girls who were amiable and kind, and much amused with her stories about the army, particularly the battle and her journey across the Alps.

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During Mary's stay in the town she became acquainted with a school-boy named Rodolph, who was in the same cla.s.s with her. He was a sprightly, daring little fellow, and on one occasion threw himself between Mary and a mad ox that was rus.h.i.+ng furiously along the street, and would probably have gored her to death but for the courage of Rodolph, who succeeded in rescuing her. From this time Mary became much attached to him, and they frequently took many pleasant rambles together, and the Old Guard called him a little corporal, and said he might one day be an officer.

Rodolph was the son of a poor widow, who had lost her husband in battle, and was in consequence reduced in circ.u.mstances, and scarcely able to support herself and send him to school; but more misfortunes came upon them, and they were at a loss what to do to save themselves from the poor-house. Rodolph was proud, and could not bear the thought of poverty and want, and was determined to do something to relieve the distress of his mother.

One day, while occupied with these thoughts, the fife and drum of a recruiting party met his ears, and as a large sum of money was offered to those who would join the army, and a military life (as related by little Mary) he thought would be the most likely to suit him, he stepped forward to the ranks, took his gun, held up his head, and became a soldier in a minute.

Rodolph rushed home to present the money to his mother, who was almost distracted when she heard what he had done; as the regiment he had joined was ordered into immediate service, and he would soon be in all the hards.h.i.+ps and horrors of war, from which she never expected he would return.

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War is a horrible thing, and Rodolph before long was seen upon the field of victory; here he behaved so bravely that he was made a corporal, and afterwards a sergeant; and at another hard fought battle attracted the notice of his officer, and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant.

But good fortune was in store for the young soldier, in a way that he would never have thought of; it happened that the wife of the colonel of the regiment to which Rodolph belonged, who had followed her husband to the field of battle, was surprised one day while alone, by two stragglers from the enemy who were proceeding to rob and perhaps murder her; when very fortunately Rodolph and another soldier who happened near the spot, and drawing their swords, attacked the robbers boldly; Rodolph's comrade however received a severe wound, and he was therefore left alone to defend himself and the lady against the ruffians; but Rodolph was fearless and fought desperately; he wounded the two villains, and conveyed the lady in safety to the tent of the officer.

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The colonel scarcely knew how to show his grat.i.tude; he gave Rodolph a large sum of money which he immediately sent home to his mother, and gave him also the command of a company of soldiers, after raising him to the rank of captain.

How happy was Rodolph when he was thus raised from a common soldier and many hards.h.i.+ps, to independence and honour, notwithstanding all the dangers and sufferings he had encountered. Another officer was, however, very much displeased with the good fortune which had attended one whom he considered to be so much below him, and took every opportunity to insult and injure him. Rodolph bore this for some time with great patience, but at last the gentleman became so ugly and troubled him so much, that he could not bear it any longer; and the consequence was, though he knew it was very wrong, that he was forced to fight a duel, or else be looked upon as a coward by the rest of his companions in arms.

They at length met to fight, and Rodolph not wis.h.i.+ng to harm his enemy, fired his pistol in the air, but the other taking advantage of Rodolph, severely wounded him. It was sometime before Rodolph recovered, but he did at last, and by earnestly entreating the officers to save the man who had thus acted treacherously towards him, he escaped a severe punishment which he otherwise would have met with. The n.o.ble conduct of Rodolph filled him with grat.i.tude; he asked his forgiveness, which was instantly granted, and they became the best of friends.

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After the war was over, the army returned to France, and great was the joy of Rodolph at the thought of once more beholding his mother, and to think he had now the means of rendering her comfortable for life.

On entering the town he flew to the home of his parent, for he had been away a long while; and he was so altered with his splendid uniform, bright sword and epaulettes, that his mother scarcely knew him; but her joy at once more seeing him, knew no bounds.

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Rodolph had been home but a short time, when the thoughts of his little companion would not let him remain long without trying to see her. He repaired immediately to the school, but all were strange faces, and n.o.body seemed to know him or little Mary either. He next visited the camp, but found the regiment had gone back to Italy a long time since, and Mary of course was with them. Poor Rodolph returned, with bitter disappointment, and determined to join the army again, and die on the field of battle. With this resolution, after taking an affectionate leave of his mother, he returned to tent, and was soon again amid the roar of cannon and the clash of arms; for Rodolph had been so long surrounded by danger and the busy scenes of a soldier's life, that the peaceful home of his boyhood seemed wearisome to him.

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We now return to little Mary, who was at school, making friends of every one she became acquainted with, and carefully studying her lessons, and most always at the head of her cla.s.s. On entering the room one morning, and looking round, she saw that Rodolph was not there. He staid away the next day, and the next; when Mary heard he had been seen in company with some recruiting soldiers, and she trembled for fear he had gone with them. She immediately hastened to the camp, and almost the first thing she saw was Rodolph, with his musket shouldered, and the perspiration streaming down his cheeks, while the rough, harsh voice of an old corporal ordered him instantly to his quarters.

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Mary waved her hand to him, but he did not see her. The tears rolled down from her eyes, as she turned from him--for she knew the hards.h.i.+ps he would have to suffer--and hurrying home, threw herself in the arms of the Old Guard, and wept as though she had lost her only friend. The next day she heard of his departure, and went to her studies, with the hope that he might return and spend some happy hours with her once more.

After the regiment had stayed a long-time in France, it returned to Italy again; and coming to a beautiful village, the Old Guard told Mary it was the place where the battle was fought, and showed her the place where he found her. Mary could not remember the spot nor any thing else which she saw, for it was a long while ago, and she was a very little girl at that time. The houses which had been burned down were all built up again, and the little boys and girls were all playing about as though nothing had ever happened. On the arrival of the soldiers, they all ran to look at the Guards and hear the drums.

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It soon became known that a young lady was with the regiment, and the story of her and the Old Guard was told to almost every one, and that she once lived in that beautiful village, and was found on the battle-field and carried off by the French soldiers. It was not long before the story of little Mary was told to a lady, who lived in a beautiful mansion or villa near the quarters of the regiment. Her husband, who was an officer, was killed in battle, and her little child lost in the crowd of people and soldiers who were trying to save themselves, on that terrible day the French soldiers came to fight the Austrians. The dead body of her husband was found, but nothing was ever known of the little child. The more she thought of the story of Mary the more she thought of her own little girl; and ordering her carriage directed it to be driven to the camp; where she found the tent of the Old Guard, and inquired for little Mary. When the lady saw her she was surprised, to see such a beautiful girl with the soldiers--for Mary was now a young lady, and had been many years with the regiment. She asked the Old Guard many questions concerning the battle; and heard how she was found on the field, surrounded by cannons, and horses, and killed and wounded soldiers; that she was crying bitterly, and sat by the side of a dead officer. The lady heard the Old Guard, and wept while he was telling the story, for she began to think that Mary was her long lost little girl. But when the Old Guard brought the dress, and a necklace and locket which she had on her neck, all of which he had carefully kept, and showed them to the lady, she cried for joy, and clasped Mary in her arms; for it was indeed her little Mary; and she kissed her over and over again. The dress was the same she had worn on the morning of the battle, and the necklace was a present from her papa, the officer who was killed; and the letters on it were for her name, which was Mary St. Clair. The Old Guard was surprised and delighted to know that little Mary was an officer's daughter, and that her parents were so rich and great; but the tears came in the old soldier's eyes when he thought she must leave him; and Mary could not bear the thought of parting with him forever. But Mrs. St. Clair, Mary's mother, was determined they should not be separated, when she heard how kind the Old Guard had been to her; and, after procuring his discharge, invited him to live with them. The party at length set out for the villa, and the soldiers of the Guards took leave of her with tears in their eyes, and rushed from the ranks to kiss her for the last time.

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Mary was delighted with her ride, but more pleased with her beautiful home, and the splendid apartments, and the costly furniture. Mary was immediately introduced to many young ladies and gentlemen, and soon became one of the liveliest and most beautiful women in Italy. The Old Guard dressed himself in his best uniform, which he would never exchange for any other dress: for although Mrs. St. Clair wanted to have him dress like a gentleman, he always refused, saying he had always lived and was determined to die a soldier. Not long after this, a great Ball was given by some of the n.o.bility, and all the officers of the army, far and near, were invited. The a.s.sembly was brilliant, and imposing; the bright uniforms and gay dresses glittered by the light of chandeliers, and music and festivity seemed to delight them all. As Mary was leaning on the arm of the Old Guard, she noticed a young captain of infantry continually gazing on her, whose face appeared familiar. He stepped forward and mentioned her name, and in an instant they were in each other's arms; it was Rodolph. The wars were ended, and in travelling about the country, he had accidentally received an invitation. As soon as Mary entered the room, he remembered her, and after making himself known, enjoyed her society for the evening. The Old Guard died at the villa, and Mary and Rodolph were married, and lived at the village the rest of their lives.

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