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PICTURES OF MY BARRACK LIFE.
BY A GERMAN SOLDIER.
Chapter VII.
VILLAGE QUARTERS AND TOWN ARREST.
After stowing away our horses in what the boor, who came out to receive us, magniloquently denominated "the stable"—a humble shed, romantically situated at the foot of a towering mountain of animal and vegetable débris, surrounded on three sides by a miniature sea, whose colour tempted one to call it the "Red Sea," but whose oderiferous pungency rendered the "Putrid Sea," a more appropriate denomination—four of us, that is to say, Dose, myself, and two cannoniers, marched in grim array towards the house which was destined to receive us during the sojourn of the 9th brigade at Wilhelmstadt. At the door we encountered the boor's better half, who with her knuckles to her sides, and petticoats tucked up to her knees, displayed a far more martial air than her lord and master. He had gazed at the Kriegsleute in silent wonderment, and answered all our interrogatories with a low bow and a scrape; but this bellipotent virago maintained her foot upon the threshold with a never-surrender air, eyed us with considerable hauteur, and asked in an undaunted tone for our quartier-billet.
Dose, who had previously advised me to take note of his conduct on such an emergency, immediately broke ground before this hostile fortress, and began to bluster and rave in a most incoherent manner, and in a style that plainly showed he had taken Captain De Foe as his model orator. Accustomed as I was to his rambling circumlocutions, this time I could not succeed in detecting anything like a glimpse of ratiocination in the vehement apostrophe with which he overwhelmed our audacious antagonist. "Military services!" "Patriotism!" "Prussia!" "Fatherland!" and even "German Unity!" were mingled in an odd farrago with "Schnapps!" "Sausages!" and "Sauerkraut!" But if oratory were to be judged by its effects, and not by style, then Sergeant Dose might be entitled to rank with the first orators of the age. The bewildered woman, assaulted by such a flood of oratory, no doubt the more terrible from its incomprehensibility, by degrees was expelled from the hostile position which she had taken up with so much resolution. One by one her outworks were stormed and demolished by the battery of words, a formidable breach was made in the circumvallations behind which she had entrenched herself, and the assaulting columns were ready to pour with the irresistible force of irrefragable arguments into the centre of her stronghold. So without more ado, she yielded to the overwhelming odds, and delivered her citadel unconditionally into the comqueror's hands.
After this slight passage of arms, and the bloodless victory of our chief in the wordy war, all negotiations were conducted with the greatest civility. The Hausfrau, all complaisance, promised that we should be treated as themselves, should eat out of the same dish with her and her good man, and many other assurances equally satisfactory to our feelings,
