MARIK TETE DE BOIS, THE SUTTLER. 65 



of the author of her existence. Marie was always to be found at the 

 head of the regiment of her adoption. On the day of battle hers was 

 always the post of danger for the word danger was not in her vo- 

 cabulary. More than twenty times she had seen renewed the demie 

 brigade in which she served; for Marie was a good shot, and could 

 at a pinch handle the bayonet with the best of them. With these 

 warlike predilections, it is not surprising that she held in the most 

 sovereign contempt those of her companions who, during the short 

 intervals of peace that Napoleon left Europe, had so little respect for 

 themselves as to exercise the trade of washerwomen. Marie took to 

 herself a husband at Verona, during the campaign of 1805. This 

 happy mortal was a grenadier and a philosopher, for he never aimed 

 at any higher distinction in this world. Passionately fond of the 

 merchandize in which his wife traded, he was her best customer ; and 

 the height of his ambition was to resign himself to its influence, 

 whenever Marie would allow him. Such was the empire she exer- 

 cised over this worthy man, that fierce as he was with his comrades, 

 and brave in the presence of the Austrians, with her he was gentle as 

 a lamb. When he married her she changed not her name ; on the 

 contrary, she gave hers to her husband, who was very seriously 

 called " Monsieur Marie." 



The result of this tender union was an interesting addition to the 

 bivouac at Marengo. He was an honour to his parents, and in due 

 time was made a drummer. At ten years of age he began to threaten 

 his father with his drum-sticks, and reimbursed, in good style, his 

 mother for the blows she so liberally bestowed upon her husband 

 when he was drunk. At fifteen years he received a firelock of honour ; 

 and at twenty, a sub-lieutenant's commission for a brilliant exploit. 

 From that moment he was observed to reform. When her trade was 

 dull, he shared his pay with his mother, and always filled her keg 

 with brandy, if she was without the means of procuring it. 



One day Monsieur Marie had the singular mal-adresse to allow 

 himself to be killed ; this unhappy bereavement occurred at Mont- 

 mirael, in 1814. Marie had long lost both her parents ; but a more 

 terrible blow was reserved for her by cruel fate. Her son was cut 

 in two by a cannon-ball, in the same year, under the walls of Paris. 

 When the fatal intelligence reached her, she was dealing out brandy 

 to the troops on the heights of Montmatre. Overwhelmed with grief, 

 she rushed to the spot where her child had fallen, and finding his 

 dissevered remains, she took them upon her shoulders, with the in- 

 tention of carrying them for interment to the nearest church. On 

 her way thither she was struck by a musket-ball, and remained upon 

 the field. Fortunately she was discovered by some soldiers, who 

 conveyed her, with her melancholy relics, to the nearest f( ambulance." 

 She recovered; and from that period Marie, who was not proud, used 

 to show, with exultation, the place that bore the scar of the wound 

 she had received. 



France was restored, and Marie ruined by the peace deprived of 

 every resource she was at last obliged to overcome her aversion to 

 the trade of washerwoman ; but in order not to entirely lose her old 

 customers, she took up her quarters near one of the barracks of the 



M. M. No. 97- K 



