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on the 31st December, 1839; and thus, having wandered far, he returned to us like the prodigal son, groaning over his follies, and praying to be received as a common French soldier. When any one spoke to him of returning to the legion, “Oh, no," said he, “send me not back to the legion, I pray: let me enter a French regiment, or be enrolled among your Zouaves, whose name is known all over Europe. You will be content with me I am sure.” He is now on the muster roll of that regiment, as a native, under the name of Joussef. He is but twenty-one years of age, as fresh as a child, as timid as a young girl, and altogether marvellously simple both in manners and speech.*
* The close of the history of Glockner is worthy of its commencement. Among the Zouaves his conduct was admirable. In every action at which he was present he deserved honourable mention of his name. He first became corporal, afterwards sergeant, and was sent to Tlemcen when the 3rd battalion was forming. Recommended by Colonel Cavagnac to General Bedeau, he rendered great service by his intelligence, and by his knowledge of the Arab language. His father, who had been written to in Bavaria, had confirmed the truth of his story. He was now in prosperous circumstances, and treated with great consideration by every one, when one fine day he decamped with a political prisoner just set at liberty, and betook himself to Morocco. He sojourned there a long time. He was at last discovered at Tangiers and sen
We are on the tiptoe of expectation. The city has an unaccustomed look; a festive expression is on all faces. Every one is engaged in collecting together his little all, especially the Zouaves, who, like the Greek philosopher, are ready to carry all their worldly possessions away on their backs; the meaning of all which is, that a telegraphic dispatch has announced the speedy arrival of General Bugeaud, the end of our exile, and our return to human life.
On the 3rd of April, after five months of isolation, we again rejoined our friends and comrades. General Bugeaud, reviewing our ranks, and noticing the energetic attitude of our soldiers, charged Colonel Cavaignac to thank us, in the name of the army, for the new proofs given of Zouave courage and devotion. The greater part of this praise is well due to Colonel Cavaignac, for in the firmness of his conduct, his noble example, and his paternal encouragement, we found our most powerful support.
as a deserter by our Consul back to the army. He would have been tried by a court martial, had he not, in consideration of his former services, been allowed to plead his adopted character of Arab. His mania for travelling is really extraordinary; he never sees, he declares, an unknown place, without a passion to explore it taking possession of him.
Our trumpets have sounded the march, and our battalions are in movement to resume their place in the column, where one can still speak of nothing but the wound General Changarnier received two days ago. The regulars had had rather a sharp engagement with our troops near the Olive wood. The horse of the Commandant Latour Dupin had just been killed. A second afterwards, when General Changarnier was explaining a movement to one of his officers, he was struck by a ball just under the shoulder. He owes his life to a thick Tunis cape (caban), which deadened the force of the shot. The face of Doctor Ciccaldi when on the news of this wound he hastened to the General, was, I am told, curious to behold. The General had dismounted under a large olive tree. “Well, doctor, tell me your opinion, and put on your dressings quick, for the affair still continues, and I have orders to give." The doctor tried to hide his anxiety, though his face fully expressed it; he sounded, however, the wound, and no sooner had he done so, than a frank honest smile succeeded the fictitious one he had been endeavouring to assume. “General, it is nothing," he exclaimed quite joyously; "the bone is not touched, and in two months you may be on horseback.” “I shall be there, I hope, my dear sir, sooner than that.” And the wound being dressed and the doctor thanked, the General remounted his horse, and gave his last orders with his habitual sang froid and energy.
His reception of us is full of cordiality. He hopes that we shall be recompensed for all that we have gone through for five months, by brilliant combats yet in store for us. It is impossible to describe our emotions; there is a confusion of news, of questions, and of answers; we know as yet nothing; we have every thing to learn, · In the evening we felt as much fatigued as if we had had a long march.
This morning, just after the reveillie, whilst the 53rd were taking up their quarters at Medeah, the head of our column was moving in the direction of the hill. In two days we shall be at Blidah.
Here I am in a little room, quite astonished at not seeing the rain fall through the roof—in a house so solidly built, that it may set storms at defiance. Whilst endeavouring to gather up my souvenirs, I hear all around me the songs and loud hoarse laughs of those unshipped Corsairs, our Zouaves. All their back pay has been paid up to them. For five months they have been
without wine, without brandy, almost without tobacco, not even having white bread to soak in their soup; and now three days are given them to forget their privations, or to drown the recollection of them in copious libations. Since yesterday no reveillie, no retreat, no service; all the men are brothers. They embrace each other and roll together under tables, where in a single repast they will probably spend the forced savings of a whole winter. The day after to-morrow, inexorable discipline will resume its sway; every one will forget the licence he now enjoys, and in a week's time, our equipments being repaired, we shall be soon ready for new expeditions already announced to us.