THE BLUE MARE

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXIV, Issue 19, 10 May 1906, Page 23

THE BLUE MARE

' Be sure to take your cloak, little one, for fear of catching cold.' ' I have it on my arm.' 1 Take your wooden shoes.' ' They are hanging around my neck.' ' Take your whip, for fear of the prowling wolves.' ' Mother, it is tied to my wrist, and is as last as one of my fingers.' ' Good-night, my son.' ' Good-night, mother.' Every evening when Jean-Marie Benic, of the shore country, started out with his mares his mother never tailed to giive him these injunctions. She was a widow with five sons, of wh^m he was the last. The iarm, sheltered by a belt of woods, which the winds tossed about, was only separated by these woods from the beaches where the waves foamed and thundered and leaped during three seasons of the year. The farm was called the Granary,, and it might have been sa^d that it was very ill-mamed, for grain grew but pooily in those salt* fields. The only fine harvest there was that of the buckwheat, which grew luxurianitlv, raising up ita red stalks and its snowy blossoms, where the bees gathered their honey. Besides this, there was a great deal of broom, a great deal of furze, and some marshes and waste lands, where all sorts of useless weeda were sown by the wind and har\ested by the winter's frost. But the meadows were siiperb, thickly planted with vigorous grass, which gave a second and a third crop of hay, without counting five months oi pasturage. They were moist fields, it is needlcsis to say; meadows which were surrounded by wooded hillsides and ciossed by a little brook scarcely as l|ig as your finder in summer, which spread out into a sheet of water and formed a lake after the rains o>[ autumn. In those fields the six marea, which were the pride and wealth of the Granary, lhed in freedom from the end of June until the middle of November. It was impossible, to sec finer mares in all the shore country, which, 'howe\er, £;-» famous for its breed of horses. A tall man did not come up to their shoulders. Their trot equalled the gallop of many other horses. Aa to their coats, although they were somewhat varied, it approached slato color, and there was one three-year-old Jilly, Jean-Marie Benic's favorite, whose coat was really blue, with a star in the middle of her forehead. The horse dealers all) said, ' Are you going to sell your filly, Mistress Benic ? ' 1 No, no, good people ; you will not have her.' ' Then the Empt-ror will take her.' ' lie is tco far oft.' ' The Emperor is never far off, Mistress Bcnic. He needs mem. lie knows, ai Paris, your mare's age, her name, her coat. Trust me and sell her.' She refuaed, for she was .sure that they would not take away Nielle* her b^autitul blue filly, who already began tc draw the plough, and could trot for three hours without resting/. To be sure, she. knew that the Emperor took men and sent them to the war ; one of her sons was upon the banks of the Rhine ; another upon the Spanish frontier. Every day she heard them talk of battles won, of cities 'taken, of canrtons carried off, of thanksgiving, massacres, and booty. At the bottom of her neart she wished an end of these victories, which ccst the lives of thousands, and which letft the most) fortunate without help, with fields ttfo big for them, with crops which perished for lack of hands to harvest them ; but she did not believe that the Emperor knew about Nielle's beauty, nor atrout her speed, nor about her blue coat and the white star upon her forehead. ' Good-night to you, my boy,' she said. 'Go carefully, and jfcjpware af the wrlf.' And Jean-Marie, mounted upon the oldest of the mares, went off whistling to pass the night in the meadows. He loved this. He had built himself a cabin of boughs upon a slope backed by a wood, from which he could see nearly all the meadow ; and there, covered by aw old cloak, with his dog, Fineears, at his feet, he slept a sleep broken by the slightest noise. The night wrapped him up in darkness and fog, but even then he recognised the presence cf his horses and the place where they pastured by their neighing and by Ihe slow rhythmic sound of their pawirua;. When the wind was cold he led therm into< a willow cons©, the loaves of 'which never moved, save in the days of tempest. Whatever th© weather might be, he made three rounds before sunrise, so that? his mares! should not rest Iving upen their sides in grass wet -with the rain or the dew. A whinnying

awakened him, or a bird's cry, or the stamping of, the animals, who gathered together at the approach of danger ; and, all alone, he would go out ot the cabin, . switching his whip in a peculiar way which frightened the wolves and reassured the mares. They ran to him Us soon as they saw him, and he stroked them. The blue filly sometimes placed her head upon the young fellow's shoulder, and he fondled her, saying, ' Upon my -word of honor, Nielle, you shall always stay at the Granary ; you are too beautiful for the war.' He deceived himself. The time for this separation came very soon. An order was published commanding that all horses and mares four years old should be brought to the city to be examined by a commission of olficers. Nielle was a few weeks more than four years old. The last days of March, drenched by rains and by tempests of snow and hail, rendered the roads almost impassable. For a whole week desolation reigined at the widow's home, the Granary. Her three remaining sons surrounded her one evening, by the light of the candle, and discussed what cught to be done. The two elder sons, already growing gray, advised hiding Nielle in the deep wood without any opening which surrounded the farm. The younger son had nothing to say. Stall, upon the evening of the day appointed for the conscription of the horses, his mother said to him : 1 Young one, you do not say anything, tout you must ha\e some notion.' 1 I "have, indeed, b",iit it is a notion quite different from my brothers.' ' Tell me what it is, young one.' 1 Mother, I am too much afraid of making you cry.' ' Poor young on?,' said his mother, kissing him. ' Those who cry are not the most unhappy ; the most unhappy are those who do not love each other.' ' Well, then, mother, 1 think that we cannot hide Nielle for a long timo in the woods : she will be found, and perhaps my elder brother will go to prison. It will be better to give her to the Emperor, who needs her. And as my turn to do service will soon come, it is my opinion that Nielle and I might better go together. 1 will watch over her. I will take care of her.' 'My boy, you talk, foolishly. A common soldier will never mount the blue mare. She will be given to an officer, and I shall lose everything — my son and my NielJe.' ' Let me go ; 1 have considered everything] at nigh ti while I was guarding, my animals. Some day you will see Nielle come back again with Jean-Marie Benic, who will have chevrons on his sleeves. I feel that lam a soldier, and I swear >to you, from having led) her against the wolves, that Nielle, too, is courageous.' Ho spoke so firmly and decidedly that tlic widow, without having the courage to say yes, did not think it wise to say no. She wept, as Jean-Marie had foreseen that she would' do, and she stayed for a long time seated upon the bench in the large room of tlie Granary giving adivice to her son, and repeating several times the same advice, tout each time with more love and more \tears. As to the 'brothers, who had good hearts im spite of their rough looks, they watched their mother and younger brother for more than half an hour without saying a word, and wc-rut to bed, leaving -upon the table their two bowls of cider quite full. The next momma; before daybreak, Jean-Marie Benic went into the stable to untie Nielle, and, lumping upon the beautiful maro's bad:, pressing her with his heels, he took her to the meadow for the last time. ' I want you to eat Once more our girass, ' he said. ' And I want to see again the place where I have so often guarded you, and to say farewell to it.' No one had risen, even at this farm, where the cock was not generally the first to rise. The low country was white with mist, and the wooda, at the two ends of the meadow, looked as if seen through a veil c[ gauze. Jean-Marie, who had put neither bridle nor halter upon his) mare, led her beside the b»ro»ok where the mint and the clover sprouted as high as his knee, and, letting the animal browse, he looked with emotion at the fine meadow grass which he would not mow or stack for several years, and those dark woods, like smoke wreaths in the mist, which would have lost their leaves several times and have grown and sprouted before his return ; and behind the woods his memory pictured all the farm which he had never left, the fields where the oats sown by his own hand already rose abjnve t«he eariHv and waved in the wind- from the sea ,; Ihe fallow fields, the moors, the clump of pines upon the dune, the paths around the meadows, deserted and covered with spiders 1 webs. ' Eat yfrur* fill, INiere.' he said, ■' for y.ou will have no more mint or clover in the Erhneror's army.' This was a pretext not to sl>art yet. TTe thought he was staying) for the mare's sake, when in truth his heart failed him. As the sun rose and the tops of the oaka became rosy on the crests of the hills, Jean-Marie

stood up upon Nielle so as to, see further off. Afterward he drank a little of the brook water, so a to remember its taste, and when the lirst sunbeam touched Ahe grass in the meadow the young man, with a wild cry li-ivie) a woundjed miaOi, put the mare into, a gaMop arid sped away toward the city. At 2 o'clock he presented himself before the "buying commission, under the trees upon the public promenade. There were hundreds of peasants there holding their horses by the. bridles, and bemoaning the war while t/hey counted their money. Several of them said : ' See the mare from the Granary — the Emperor has none prettier. She will be riddled by the balls. Oh, this misera-ble war ! She will be killed by the bullets. Look at her, how she goes along with pride in her eyes ! ' Nielle indeed raised her head, whinnied and pranced. The officer commanding the commission saw her coming in the midst of the accl am actions, and also admired Jean Marie's fi'gaire and his bold air. 'An officer's mare,' he said. ' A mare for >a colonel, at the very least. 1 will give you the highest price allowed, my boy. Are you satisfied ? ' ' No.' 1 What do you want ? ' ' To enlistj in the regiment in which Nielle will serve. I don't want to leave her.' The officer, who had a terrible while moustache and a child-lik© air, burst out laughing ; then all at once tears came to his eyes, and he said, stretching out his hand to Jiean-Marie, ' There's a bra\e fellow, I'll take my oath of it.. 'We will do our best, Nielle and I,' answered the young fellow. Four days later they were in the same regiment, far from the shore cruntry, far from the Brittany farm where they had grown up together. He made a good soldier, and she a good war-horse. Nielle had fallen to the Colonel of the regiment, a young man whom the Emperor took with him everywhere in his suite. What fine journeys he had made during the past ten years. He had seen all Europe, except the islands ; he l-new the colors of all the flags. His hand had received the keys of several cities. He had come back from twenty charges, unwounded, at the head of his lancers, and regularly, each time, he had been advanced in rank by older of him who knew everything and forgot no one' — corporal, quartermaster, second lieutenant, captain, major, colonel. He had won every chevron — sometimes of wool, sometimes of silver — at the point of his lance. He only awaited his twenty-first charge to become a general. Ten horses had been killed "under him. Nielle carried him proudly, as if she understood. In the silent watches, from time tc time, he leaned forward upon tho animal's neck and stroked the white star upon her forehead. Jean-I\larie, bearded, bronzed, broad-shouldered, and as spruce as any, had aged \ery fast out of Fiance, and had the look of an old soldier, 'lie loved war, and, above all things, he loved Nielle. More than once he had cut grass or oats for her with his sabre in frorrl of a hostile camp undeT bullets which whistled about him in the hay. He himself decked the beautiful imare's headstall upon days when she was to enter a conquered city, and if it were a capital, he ga\e her a large bunch of flowers,. She recognised his voice ; she pranced joyfully when she passed near him upon review. The Emperor commanded liis lancers to attack a country. The lancers, who were in Italy, p&ssied over the mountains. \Miile they descended the f-tlopes one might have thought them bushes marching ; but the white spots were neither dew nor snow. The country folk saw them, from the hollow valleys and were afraid. ' May the wrath of the Emperor be far from us,' they said. His wrath passed them by. In the evening they saw the regiments ascend the opposite mountains. Nielle went steadily, never tired, always in advance. And when the hour for the battle came the Emperor was there. No one knew how he had come.. 1 have never seen a battle. I cannot even remember the name of this one ; but I have been told by my uncle, who is dead, and who was present, that it 'was terrible. The dead lay in the opem field, and the wounded could not be counted. Amone; them Jean Marie had fallen across' a ridge cf ripei grain with a ball in his shovlJer. The blue mare had carried the colonel to the bottom of the nlain, into the smoke of the cannons. The poor fellow thought of the Granary. The sun was so hot that it dried the blood which flowed from bis wound ; and from fatigue and pain Jean-Marie Benic, of the shore country, berfan to lose consciousness, when he saw in front a blue point which came toward him. It was like a cannon ball, with two puffs of flame to the right and to the left. Soon he distinguished the ears, the feet, a mane, a rider ; he recognised Nielle— Nielie in flight, carrying, half-falling backward, the col-

onel, from whose hands the reins had escaped. She cios«sed a ditch, she entered the, ripe grain, she passed at full speed, but the wounded man had time to cry, * Nielle ! ' Then, like a great winter crow which makes a circuit before alighting, Jean-Marie saw the b.eautiful warhorse run arcund the field, come back to him and stop, stretching out her neck. ' Benic,' said the colonel, ' have you still your two legs ? ' 4 Yes, Colonel.' ' Have you your two arms ? ' 1 I have only one which is good for anything.' 'My hands are broken. Get up behind me. We will charge at once. My lancers have given way. Do you see how they are soattering . ' ' Yes, Cclonel.' ' Ah, Benic, if I only had my two hands ! ' 1 I have one hand for both of us'; that is enough. Charge the enemy, blue Nielle ! ' Th» lancers were really fleeing, having believed that the colonel himself had fled. But upon the road, as they fled against their will, when they saw Nielle's breast in the midst of the dust, the two men mounted upon her back, gaUopiing, they turned, and, setting their lances again, they also charged. Jeaor-Marie Benic and Nielle won the battle. The Emperor was satisfied. That evening, while making his bivouac rcund, he come upon Jeam-Marie, who was weeping, seated upon the ground and holding with his remaining hand the blue mare's bridle. Surprised, he went up to him. ' A laraeer of my guard ! You are weeping upon, the day of a great victory ! Are ye v wounded*.' ' ' Yes, my Emperor ; that is not what troubles me.' "What I* the matter with you ? ' ' My colonel is dead.' ' I know it ; I regret him more than you dc . I saw you charp;*. What else troubles you "' ' ' My mare, she that I raised at the Granary, in the shorej country— — ' He could sayi no more ; he went. The Emperor saw, by the, li^i.t* of the camp Jires Having, on all $iides, that Nielle had been struck upon the left side by the splinter of a shell. He crossed his handfi behind his back, xmder the flaps of his long coat, and said : ' Get well,, both of you— l wish it ! When you are well agiain go to your shore country ; you have served me well. I only claim the mare's first colt for my guard ; and, twenty years from now, you will send your son to me and I will make an officer of him.' ' Yes, my Emperor.' That day made Jean-Marie a proud man for all his life, which was a long one. He saw the Granary again, the woods, the meadows, the brook where the mint. drank the fce;s, and the old mother who had prayerfully awaited him. He had but one arm, as Nielle had but three legs ; hut that arm could still hold the plough, drive the oxen, and drain a glass. The men of his age saluted his useless shoulder as he passed 'upon the road. Upon the market days, when a tall peasant with a worn face came to the village upon a mare who limped badly, the fathers and mothers pointed them out to the children, saying : ' That is Jean-Marie Benic, tkat is line Nielle, the two who were wounded for the Emperor ! ' — ' Catholic Standard.'