Collected Works of Eugène Sue
Page 219
Scarcely had the man Simon been recognized, than several amongst the crowd cried like him, ‘Here, Simon! Simon!’
The latter, at the first appeal of the emissary, had quickened his march, as if he had heard nothing; but when a great number of voices cried out his name, he turned back, advanced to where Jesus was, and approached him with a troubled air.
‘They are about to crucify Jesus of Nazareth, whose words you were so delighted to hear,’ said the banker Jonas to him in a jesting manner; ‘he is your friend, will you not help him to carry his cross?’
‘I will carry it myself,’ replied Simon, having the courage to look with an eye of pity on his young master, who, still kneeling, seemed ready to fall.
Simon, having taken up the cross, walked before Jesus, and the cortege pursued its route.
About a hundred paces further on, at the commencement of the street that leads to the Judicial Gate, in passing before the shop of a vendor of woolen cloths, Genevieve saw a woman of a venerable figure leave the shop. This woman, at the sight of Jesus, pale, exhausted and bleeding, could not restrain her tears; then, for the first time, the slave, who until now, had forgotten that she might be sought after by order of her master the Seigneur Gremion, remembered the address which her mistress Aurelia had given her on the part of Jane, telling her that Veronica, her nurse, keeping a shop near the Judicial Gate, could give her an asylum. But Genevieve at this moment did not think of profiting by this chance of safety. An unconquerable force attached her to the steps of the young man of Nazareth, whom she resolved to follow to the end. She then saw Veronica in tears approach Jesus, whose face was bathed in a bloody sweat, and wipe with a linen towel the face of the poor martyr, who thanked Veronica by a smile of celestial sweetness. A little farther on, and whilst in the street which led to the Judicial Gate, Jesus passed before several women who were weeping; he stopped a moment, and said to these women, with an accent of profound melancholy:
‘Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me! but weep for yourselves, weep for your children; for there will come a time when it shall be said, “Blessed are the barren! Blessed are they who have no children! Blessed are they who have not given suck!”’
Then Jesus, though broken with suffering, drawing himself up with an air of inspiration, his features impressed with a heart-rending grief, as if he had a consciousness of the frightful miseries he foresaw, exclaimed, in a prophetic tone which made the pharisees themselves tremble:
‘Yes, the time approaches in which men, in their fear, will say to the mountains, “fall upon us!” and to the hills, “cover us!”’
And Jesus, bowing his head on his bosom, painfully pursued his march amidst the silence of stupor and alarm which had succeeded his prophetic words. The cortege continued to climb the steep street that leads to the Judicial Gate, under which you pass to ascend to Golgotha, a little hill situated outside the city, and at the summit of which are erected the crosses of the condemned.
Genevieve remarked that the crowd, at first so basely hostile to Jesus, began, as the hour of execution approached, to be moved, and to lament the fate of the victim. These unfortunate people comprehended, no doubt, but, alas, too late, that in allowing the friend of the poor and afflicted to be put to death, they not only deprived themselves of a defender, but that by their shameful ingratitude they froze up, for the future, the generous hearts that would have devoted themselves to their cause. When the Judicial Gate was passed, they commenced ascending Mount Calvary. This ascent was so steep, that frequently Simon the Cyrenean, still carrying Jesus’ cross, was obliged to stop, as well as the young man himself. The latter seemed to have preserved scarcely sufficient strength to enable him to reach the summit of this barren hill, covered with rolling stones, and where a few blades of sickly verdure alone grew. The sky was covered with thick clouds; the day being gloomy and funereal, threw a veil of sadness over all things. Genevieve, to her great surprise, observed, towards the summit of Calvary, two other crosses erected besides the one intended to be erected for Jesus. In her astonishment, she inquired of a person in the crowd, who replied to her:
‘These crosses are intended for two thieves, who are to be crucified at the same time as the Nazarene.’
‘And why do they execute these thieves at the same moment as the Nazarene?’ inquired the slave.
‘Because the pharisees, men of justice, wisdom, and piety, have resolved that the Nazarene shall be accompanied even in death, by the miserable wretches whose company he frequented during his life.’
Genevieve turned round to ascertain who had made her this reply; she recognized one of the two emissaries. ‘Oh! the merciless wretches!’ thought she; ‘they find means of outraging Jesus even in his death.’
When the Roman soldiers who had escorted the young man arrived, followed by the crowd, more and more silent and mournful, at the summit of Calvary, as also Doctor Baruch, Jonas the banker, and Caiphus the high priest, all three, anxious to assist at the agony and death of their victim, Genevieve perceived the two thieves destined to be crucified, bound and surrounded with guards; they were livid, and awaited their fate with a terror mingled with an impotent rage. At a sign from the Roman officer, chief of the escort, the executioners drew the two crosses from the holes in which they had been erected, and threw them on the ground; then seized the condemned, despite their cries, their blasphemies and desperate resistance, they stripped them of their garments and extended them on the crosses; then, whilst the soldiers held them there, the executioners, armed with long nails and heavy hammers, nailed to the crosses, by the feet and hands, these poor wretches who howled with pain. By this refinement of cruelty they made the young man of Nazareth a witness of the torture he was himself about to suffer; consequently, at sight of the sufferings of these two companions of punishment, Jesus could not restrain his tears; he then buried his face in his hands to shut out the painful vision.
The two thieves crucified, the executioners again erected their crosses, on which they writhed and groaned, thrust them some way into the ground, and strengthened them by means of stones and piles.
‘Come, Nazarene,’ said one of the executioners to Jesus, approaching him, holding in one hand his heavy hammer, and in the other several long nails. ‘Come, are you ready? Must we use violence to you, as to your two companions?’
‘What can they complain of?’ replied the other executioner; ‘we are so much at our ease on a cross, with our arms extended, for all the world like a man stretching himself after a long nap!’
Jesus made no reply; he stripped off his garments, placed himself on the instrument of death, extended his arms on the cross, and turned toward heaven his eyes drowned in tears.
Genevieve then saw the two executioners kneel on each side of the young man of Nazareth, and seize their long nails and heavy hammers. The slave closed her eyes, but she heard the dull sounds of the hammers, as they drove the nails into the living flesh, whilst the two crucified thieves continued their cries. The blows of the hammer ceased — Genevieve opened her eyes: the cross to which they had attached the Nazarene had just been erected between those of the two crucified thieves. Jesus, his head crowned with thorns, his long chestnut hair glued to his temples by a mixture of blood and sweat, his face livid and impressed with fearful agony, his lips blue; seemed about to expire; the whole weight of his body resting on his two hands nailed to the cross, as also his feet, from whence the blood trickled; his arms stiffened by violent convulsive movements, whilst his knees, half bent, occasionally knocked against each other. Genevieve then heard the almost dying voice of the two thieves who, addressing Jesus, said to him: ‘Cursed be thou, Nazarene! cursed be thou, who told us that the first should be last, and the last first? Behold us crucified, what can’st thou do for us?’
‘Cursed be thou, who told us that they alone who were sick had need of the physician: behold us ill; where is the physician?’
‘Cursed be thou who told us that the good shepherd abandons his flock to find a sing
le sheep that has strayed! we have strayed, and thou, the good shepherd, leave us in the hands of butchers.’
And these wretched men were not the only ones to insult the agony of Jesus; for, horrible as it is, and which Genevieve whilst writing this can hardly believe, Doctor Baruch, Jonas the banker, and Caiphus the high priest, joined the two thieves in assailing and outraging Jesus, at the moment he was about to render up his soul.
‘Oh! Jesus of Nazareth! Jesus the Messiah! Jesus the prophet? Jesus, the Savior of the world!’ said Caiphus: ‘how was it you did not prophesy your own fate? Why did you not commence by saving yourself, you who were to save the world?’
‘You call yourself the son of God, O Nazarene the divine!’ added the banker Jonas: ‘we will believe in your celestial power if you descend from your cross. We only ask of you this little prodigy! Come, son of God, descend! descend then! Ah! you prefer resting nailed on that beam, like a bird of night at a barn-door? Free thyself: you might be called Jesus the crucified, but never Jesus the son of God!’
‘You appear to have much confidence in the Almighty!’ added Doctor Baruch: ‘call on him then to assist you! If he protects you, if you are really his son, why does he not thunder against us, your murderers? Why does he not change this cross into a bed of roses, from whence you could fly in a glory to heaven?’
The shouts and jests of the soldiers accompanied these disgraceful outrages of the pharisees; suddenly Genevieve saw Jesus stiffen in all his limbs, make a last effort to lift up his bleeding and wearied head to heaven: a last ray seemed to illumine his celestial expression; a heart-rending smile contracted his lips, and he murmured in a faint voice: ‘My God! my God! take pity on me!’
His head then fell on his bosom, the friend of the poor and afflicted had ceased to live!
Genevieve knelt down and burst into tears. At this moment she heard a voice exclaim behind her:
‘Ah! here is the fugitive slave! Ah! I was certain of finding her in the traces of this cursed Nazarene, on whom they have at length done justice. Seize her! bind her hands behind her back. Oh! this time my vengeance shall be terrible!’
Genevieve turned round and saw her master, the Seigneur Gremion.
‘Now,’ said Genevieve, ‘I can die; since he, alas, who promised slaves to break their chains is dead.’
* * *
Although I had to endure the most cruel torments on the part of my master, I did not die, since I wrote this narrative for my husband Fergan.
After having thus recounted what I knew and what I had seen of the life and death of the young man of Nazareth, I would think it impious to speak of what has happened to myself from the sad day when I saw the friend of the poor and the afflicted expire on the cross. I will only say, taking as an example the resignation of Jesus on the cross, I will endure patiently the cruelties of Seigneur Gremion, from attachment to my mistress Aurelia; suffering all in order not to quit her; so that I remained the slave of Gremion’s wife during the two years she was in Judea. Thanks to human ingratitude, six months after the death of the young man of Nazareth, his remembrance was effaced from the memory of man. A few of his disciples only preserved a pious recollection of him.
When after two years passed in Judea with my mistress Aurelia, I returned amongst the Gauls, I found them still in slavery, as frightful, perhaps more so, than in times past.
I have added to this narrative, which I have written for my husband Fergan, a small silver cross, which was given me by Jane, wife of the Seigneur Chusa, a short time after the death of the young man of Nazareth. Some persons (and Jane amongst them), who preserved a pious respect for the memory of the friend of the afflicted, had some small crosses made in remembrance of the instrument of Jesus’s death, and wore them or distributed them, after having deposited them on Mount Calvary, on the ground whereon the blood of Jesus had streamed.
I know not if I am to be one day a mother; if I have this happiness (is it a happiness for a slave to bring into the world other slaves?) I will add this little silver cross to the family relics which ought to transmit from generation to generation the history of the family of Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak. May this little cross be the symbol of the enfranchising of the old and heroic Gallic race! May those words of Jesus be one day realized for the children of our children: ‘The chains of the slave shall be broken!’
THE END
The Casque’s Lark
OR, VICTORIA, THE MOTHER OF THE FIELDS. A TALE OF THE FRANKISH INVASION OF GAUL
Translated by Daniel de Leon
With this story we return to the Gallic tribes, as the narrative concerns a descendant of Joel and also the slave Genevieve. Schanvoch tells his story two hundred and sixty-four years after his ancestress Genevieve travelled to Judea. We learn that from the death of Joel down to the great grandfather of Schanvoch, the family were enslaved for seven generations. His grandfather and father worked their way to freedom once more and Rome is the ally of the Gauls now, rather than their master. Schanvoch has long nurtured a secret love for his foster sister, Victoria, who has been appointed joint ruler of Gaul with a Roman official. He is her chosen warrior in times of unrest and her secretary in peace. Victoria’s grandson, Victorin, is a successful warrior in his own right, but tends to over-indulge in alcohol and handles his mistresses too roughly. However, Schanvoch is still shocked to learn of a viable rumour that his beloved Victorin has raped a woman in a drunken rage; she, overcome with shame, has committed suicide. It would seem that the young soldier’s behaviour is spiralling out of control, yet many of the stories in circulation have been first put forward by just one man, a secretary. With this sad news playing on his mind, Schanvoch must now focus on the forthcoming struggle against the Franks. From the tales he has heard, he expects the Franks to be ugly and bestial, but when he is captured and brought before the priestess Elwig, a surprise awaits him…
CONTENTS
TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE
INTRODUCTION.
PART I. FOREIGN FOES.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
PART II. DOMESTIC TRAITORS.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
EPILOGUE.
TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE
THE FIRST FOUR stories of Eugène Sue’s series of historic novels — The Mysteries of the People; or, History of a Proletarian Family Across the Ages — are properly introductory to the wondrous drama in which, as indicated in the preface to the first story of the series, “one family, the descendants of a Gallic chief named Joel, typifies the oppressed; one family, the descendants of a Frankish chief named Neroweg, typifies the oppressor; and across and adown the ages, the successive struggles between oppressors and oppressed — the history of civilization — is thus represented in a majestic allegory.” That wondrous drama opens with this, the fifth of the stories — The Casque’s Lark; or, Victoria, the Mother of the Camps.
Here, for the first time, does a descendant of Joel, the Breton chief, encounter a Neroweg, the representative of the conquering race. Here they cross swords for the first time, their descendants meeting again and again in the course of the subsequent narratives, almost always in deadly encounter, each typical of the advancing stage of civilization in which the succeeding encounters occur.
In point of time, the scene of this story is about the third century of the Christian era. The great historic epoch which it describes is that in which, the star of the Roman Empire being in the decline an
d the Empire’s hold upon Gaul having been greatly relaxed, the flood of the barbarian migration of nations flowed westward from the primeval forests and frozen fields of Germania, attempting to cross the Rhine and enter Gaul. Foremost among these hordes were the savage and warlike Franks, led by a number of independent chiefs. The present story describes the two forces — Franks and Gauls, the latter supported by the Romans — facing each other, frequently crossing swords in bloody encounters and holding each other in check. Out of this material, into which the thin thread of the initial introduction of Christianity in Gaul is woven in the woof, Sue constructed the present superb narrative — a fit overture for the following and successive fourteen acts.
Daniel De Leon.
Milford, Conn., August, 1909.
INTRODUCTION.
I, SCHANVOCH, A descendant of Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak; I, Schanvoch, now a freeman, thanks to the valor of my father Ralf and the bold Gallic insurrections that continued unabated from century to century; I, Schanvoch, write the following narrative two hundred and sixty-four years after my ancestress Genevieve, the wife of Fergan, witnessed in Judea the death of the poor carpenter Jesus of Nazareth.
I write the following account thirty-four years after Gomer, the son of Judicaël and grandson of Fergan, who was a slave like his father and grandfather, wrote to his son Mederik that he had nothing to add to the family annals but the monotonous account of his life as a slave.
Neither did my ancestor Mederik contribute aught to our family history, and his son Justin contented himself with having a stranger’s hand enter these short lines:
“My father Mederik died a slave, fighting as a Son of the Mistletoe for the freedom of Gaul; he told me that he was driven to revolt against the foreign oppression by the narrative of the bravery of our free ancestors and by the description of the sufferance of our enslaved fathers. I, his son Justin, a colonist, and no longer a slave of the fisc, have caused this fact to be entered upon our family parchments, which I shall faithfully transmit to my son Aurel, together with their accompanying emblems, the gold sickle, the little brass bell, the fragment of the iron collar and the little silver cross, all of which I have carefully preserved.”