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Page 6
Is it too late to tell again the story of the origin of "The
Marseillaise"?
[Illustration: ON THE QUAYHEAD AT MARSEILLES.]
Its author and composer (or it might be more correct to say composer and
author, for in this case music preceded words), Rouget de Lisle--a young
aristocrat and an artillery officer--had as a friend a citizen of
Strasbourg, to whose house, in the early days of the Revolution, he came
on a visit one evening. The tired guest was cordially welcomed by the
citizen and his wife and daughter. To celebrate the occasion his friend
sent the daughter into the cellar to bring up wine. Exhausted as he was,
de Lisle drank freely, and, sitting up late with his host, did not
trouble to go to bed. He had been amusing the family by playing some of
his original compositions on the spinnet. When the host retired for the
night he left de Lisle asleep with his head resting on the instrument.
In the early hours of the morning the young officer awoke, and running
through his head was a melody which, in his semi-drunken state the
evening before, he had been attempting to extemporise. It seemed to
haunt him, and, piecing it together as it came back to his memory, he
played it over. Then, feeling inspired, he immediately set words to it.
When the family came down he played and sang it to them, and his host
was so moved by it that he became quite excited and called in the
neighbours. The instrument was wheeled out into the garden, and in the
open air young de Lisle sang the song that was to become the national
air of his country to this local audience. The effect upon them was
"terrific," and from that moment the song became the rage. It seemed to
embody the whole spirit of the Revolutionists, and spread like wildfire
throughout France. It was to this song that the unbridled spirits of
Marseilles marched to Paris, hence its name, "The Marseillaise." Shortly
after this, de Lisle received a letter from his mother, the Baroness,
dated from her chateau, saying, "What is this dreadful song we hear?"
Fearing that his own life might be in danger, he being an aristocrat and
a suspect, he had before long to take flight across the mountains. As he
went from valley to crag, and crag to valley, he time after time heard
the populace singing his song, frequently having to hide behind rocks
lest they discovered him. It sounded to him like a requiem, for he knew
that many of his friends were being marched to the scaffold to his own
impassioned strains.
[Illustration: QUAYSIDE, MARSEILLES.]
CHAPTER III.
FROM MARSEILLES TO ARMENTI�RES.
The incidents of the railway journey from Marseilles to Etaples, _en
route_ to Armenti�res, told in detail, would fill a book. It was made in
ordinary cattle trucks, in which, packed forty to a truck, we spent four
days and a half at one stretch. Yet was it a bright and merry trip, for
our spirits were raised to the highest by the thought that we were going
into action, and we were at all sorts of expedients to make ourselves
comfortable. For instance, before we started the Stationmaster's Office
was ransacked, and every available nail pulled out to make coat and hat
pegs of in the cattle trucks. We had to sleep on the floor. Our
corporal, who was an old soldier of many campaigns, of iron physique
and a perfect Goliath, and the life and soul of our party, was so tired
when he got aboard the train, after strenuous efforts, that he fell dead
asleep on the floor, and there was so little available space, and his
massive form took up so much of what there was, that no fewer than nine
men, as they became tired and dropped down from the walls of the truck,
fell on him and went to sleep on the top of him. However, that corporal
slept the sleep of the just for four or five hours, and even then did
not awaken until, the train halting and somebody mentioning wine, there
was a scuffle, and another man stepped on his head, whereupon he flung
him off and made a good first out of the train.
[Illustration: FORTY PASSENGERS IN EACH CATTLE TRUCK.]
We were regaled at each station by the populace, who brought us cakes
and wine, small flags, toys, tin trumpets, oranges, and other fruits,
and we parted with nearly all our buttons as souvenirs.
TUB, TEA AND A HALT.
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