Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  Turning then to me, Tetrik said affectionately:

  “Greeting to the best, the most faithful friend of the woman whom I most love and venerate in the world; greeting to Victoria’s foster-brother.”

  “Your speech is true. I am the obscurest but also the most devoted friend of Victoria,” I answered looking fixedly at Tetrik, “and it is the duty of a friend to unmask scamps and traitors.”

  “I am of your opinion, friend Schanvoch,” Tetrik answered with simplicity. “A friend’s first duty is to unmask scamps and traitors. I fear the roaring lion with its jaws wide open less than the serpent that creeps in the dark.”

  “Now, then, I, Schanvoch, have this to say to you, Tetrik. You are one of the dangerous reptile that you have just mentioned. I consider you a traitor! And I purpose to unmask your treason!”

  “Schanvoch!” cried Victoria interrupting me in a reproachful tone.

  “I perceive that the old Gallic love for raillery, one of our franchises, has returned with our gods and our freedom,” replied the governor smiling.

  And turning to Victoria he added:

  “Our friend Schanvoch possesses the art of dry humor — the most amusing of all—”

  “My brother speaks seriously and out of an honorable impulse,” the Mother of the Camps broke in saying. “And I grieve thereat, since I know that he is mistaken; but he is sincere in his error—”

  Tetrik let his eyes wander alternately from Victoria to me with no little amazement; for a moment he was silent; thereupon he said in a serious and penetrating voice:

  “All faithful friends are quick to suspect. Good Schanvoch, your distrust is inexplicable to me; but it must have its reason. The attack was frank, frank shall be the answer. Let us settle the question. What is your charge against me?”

  “About a month ago you came to Mayence. A man of your retinue, your secretary, Morix by name and well supplied with money, gave the soldiers to drink and at the same time endeavored to irritate them against Victorin, saying to them that it was disgraceful that their general, one of the two chiefs of regenerated Gaul, should be a drunkard and a profligate. Did your secretary hold such language, yes or no? I wait for your answer.”

  “Proceed, friend Schanvoch, proceed—”

  “Your secretary told a story that, being subsequently spread through the camp, has greatly irritated the soldiers against Victorin. This was the story: A few months ago, Victorin and several officers went to a tavern on one of the isles in the Rhine; after having drunk copiously, Victorin, excited by the wine, violated the innkeeper’s wife, and she thereupon killed herself in despair—”

  “Calumny!” cried Victoria. “I know and condemn my son’s faults — but he is incapable of such an infamous act!”

  The governor listened to me without betraying the slightest emotion. Presently he said with a smile and his habitual placidity of countenance:

  “So, then, good Schanvoch, it is your opinion that, obedient to orders received from me, my secretary spread unworthy calumnies in the camp?”

  “Yes. It is all done with your knowledge and consent.”

  “And what could be my motive?”

  “You are ambitious—”

  “And in what manner could such calumnies subserve my ambition?”

  “If the dissatisfaction of the soldiers with Victorin, whom they elected, continues, you would then use your influence with Victoria to the end of inducing her to propose you to the soldiers as Victorin’s successor in the government of Gaul.”

  “A mother! Did you stop to consider that, good Schanvoch?” Tetrik answered looking at Victoria. “A mother sacrifice a son to a friend!”

  “In the greatness of her love for her country, Victoria would certainly sacrifice her son to your elevation if the measure became necessary to the welfare of Gaul. Am I mistaken, sister?”

  “No,” Victoria answered me evidently grieved at my accusations against her relative; “in that you say the truth, but as to the inferences that you draw therefrom, I reject them.”

  “And that heroic sacrifice, good Schanvoch,” resumed the governor, “Victoria is expected to make knowing that it was through my underground calumnies that her son’s reputation was blasted with the soldiers?”

  “My sister would not have been aware of your intrigues had I not unmasked them. Besides, more than once did I hear her say, and justly say, that in case peace was established, it would be better for the country if its chief, instead of being ever prone to battle, gave serious thought to the healing of the wounds inflicted by the past wars. She often mentioned you as one of the men who wisely prefer peace to war.”

  “It is true, I hold that the sword, good to destroy, is impotent to reconstruct,” remarked Victoria; “and the freedom of Gaul once firmly established, I would prefer to see my son give more thought to peace than to war. It was, therefore, Schanvoch, that I commissioned you with one last attempt with the Franks, looking to the restoration of peace.”

  “Allow that I interrupt you, Victoria,” put in Tetrik, “and that I ask our friend Schanvoch whether he has any other charges against me.”

  “I charge you with being either the secret agent of the Roman Emperor Galien, or the agent of the chief of the new creed, Roman Catholicism.”

  “I!” cried the governor. “I the agent of the Christians!”

  “I said the agent of the chief of the new creed. I refer to the Bishop of Rome, who entitles himself ‘Sovereign Pontiff.’”

  “I the agent of Etienne, the Bishop of Rome, and fourteenth Pope of the new church? — of that Pope, of whom Firmilien, the Bishop of Caesarea, wrote to Cyprian, the presiding officer of the Spanish council, composed of twenty-eight bishops: ‘Would one believe that that man (Pope Etienne) had a soul in his body? Evidently his body is but ill conducted, and his soul is in a disordered condition. Etienne does not stick at calling his brother Cyprian a false Christ, a false apostle, a fraudulent artisan; in order to forestall having these things said of himself, he has the audacity to make the accusation against others.’ And can I be the agent of that ambitious pontiff! Of that simoniacal bishop, who is given over to all manner of vices!”

  “Yes — unless that, deceiving at once both the Roman Emperor and the Pope of Rome, you are serving both, ready to sacrifice the one or the other, according as your ambition may require.”

  “That I serve the Romans is a thing that I am ready to admit,” Tetrik answered with his unalterable placidity. “However unjust your suspicion towards me, it may be understood, as an instance of extreme patriotism. We are well aware that, although we have succeeded, by force of arms, to reconquer during nearly three centuries, inch by inch the full freedom once enjoyed by old Gaul, the Roman Emperors have seen with sorrow our country slip from their dominion. Accordingly, I can understand, Schanvoch, how you might accuse me of desiring to arrive at power in Gaul, with the end in view of sooner or later restoring the country to the Romans, although in doing so I would be betraying it most infamously. But is it imaginable that I act in the interest of the Pope of the Christians, of those unhappy people who are everywhere persecuted and martyrized? It is not a sane thought! What could I do for them? What could they do for me?”

  Schanvoch was about to answer. Victoria interrupted him with a gesture and said to Tetrik while she pointed to the cross of black wood, the emblem of the death of Jesus, that was placed near the brass vase with the seven twigs of mistletoe, a druid symbol much in use among the Gauls:

  “Look at that cross, Tetrik, it tells you that, without infidelity to our own gods, I nevertheless venerate him who said that no man has the right to oppress his fellows; that the guilty merit pity and consolation, not contempt and severity; and that the irons of the slave should be stricken off. Blessed be these maxims, Tetrik; the wisest of our druids have accepted them as holy; accordingly, you may judge how dearly I love the gentle and pure morality of that young man of Nazareth. But listen, Tetrik,” Victoria added pensively, “there is something unexplainab
le, strange and mysterious that makes me shudder. Yes, many a time and oft, during my long watches beside the cradle of my grandson, and when I pondered the present and the past, tormenting thoughts crowded upon my mind concerning the future of our well-beloved Gaul.”

  “And whence does your terror proceed?” Tetrik asked. “What is its cause?”

  “That for three successive centuries Rome was the implacable foe of Gaul,” Victoria answered; “that for so many centuries Rome was the merciless scourge of the world!”

  “Rome?” replied the governor. “Pagan Rome?”

  “Yes. The tyranny that weighed down upon the world had its seat in Rome,” rejoined Victoria. “Now, then, I ask myself, by what strange fatality have the bishops, the Popes of the new creed, who aspire to reign over the universe by ruling the sovereigns of the world, been led to establish the seat of their empire in Rome? Jesus of Nazareth branded the high priests as liars and hypocrites. He preached above all, humility, forgiveness, equality, fraternity among men, and lo! in his apotheosized name, we now see a new hierarchy of high priests arising, pretending to be the rulers of the world, and already, as Pope Etienne, meriting the charges of ambition, deception and intolerance, even from their fellow Christian bishops!”

  “Is it you, Victoria, who hold such language?” Tetrik interrupted her saying: “You so wise, so enlightened — can you fear the future of Gaul to be endangered by those unhappy people who bear witness to their faith by their martyrdom?”

  “Oh!” cried the Mother of the Camps with exaltation. “I love, I admire those poor Christians who die in torture while proclaiming the equality of man before God, the liberation of the slaves, the community of goods, love and forgiveness for the guilty! I love, I admire those poor Christians who die on the scaffold and proclaim in the name of Jesus: ‘Those are monsters of iniquity who hold their brothers in bondage, who leave them to suffer in cold and hunger, instead of sharing with them their bread and their cloak.’ Oh! pity and veneration for those heroic martyrs! But I stand in dread of those people who call themselves the chiefs, the Popes of the Christians. Yes, I stand in dread of those high priests who have fixed upon Rome as the seat of their mysterious empire! — in that city, the center of the most frightful tyranny that has ever crushed down the human race! I fear for the future of Gaul from that quarter.”

  “Victoria,” again Tetrik interrupted, saying: “You exaggerate the power of those Christian pontiffs. Have not large numbers of them, persecuted by the Roman Emperors, undergone martyrdom, like any other neophytes?”

  “Every battle has its dead, and the Popes struggle with the Emperors in order to wrench from these the dominion over the world! Among those bishops there have been many who have spoken and died like Jesus. But if there are some worthy pontiffs among them, and they are few, the domination of the priests is not, for that, any the less dread a visitation upon the people. Has not the government of our own priests been despotic and merciless? Did not the druids leave the people for over ten centuries steeped in crassest ignorance, governing them with the instruments of barbarism — superstition and terror? Did not those days of oppression and debasement last until the glorious and prosperous epoch when, merged in the body of the nation as citizens, fathers and soldiers, our druids took part in the common life of the people, in the joys of the family, and in the national wars against the foreigner? What I apprehend for the future of the nations is that some day there may be established in Rome a murky alliance between the Pope and the most powerful Emperors and Kings of the world! Unhappy will that day be for the peoples! From such an alliance a frightful political and religious tyranny will be born, and it will be watered with the blood of fresh martyrs! Woe, then, to the peoples! They will once more be made to bend under a pitiless theocratic yoke!”

  As she uttered these words, Victoria seemed inspired by the prophetic genius of the female druids of olden times. Tetrik listened to her in silence, but instead of answering, he resumed with a smile:

  “See how far we have wandered from the charges that our friend Schanvoch has preferred against me — and yet, Victoria, your words, regarding the apprehension that the Christian high priests, as you style them, fill you with for the future, in a manner bring us back to the charges. So, then, Schanvoch, the purpose of the perfidies that you charge me with is to arrive at power in Gaul, to the end of betraying the country to pagan or to Catholic Rome?”

  “Yes, that is my opinion.”

  “Schanvoch, I shall not need many words for my defense. One of my secretaries did seek to arouse the hostility of our soldiers against Victorin. Your revelation comes rather late—”

  “I learned the facts only yesterday.”

  “That is of no consequence,” he replied, “that secretary was dismissed by me just because I learned that, irritated at Victorin for having railed at him several times, he sought to revenge himself by spreading against the general calumnies that were even more ridiculous and odious. But let us drop these petty matters. I am ambitious, you say, friend Schanvoch! I aim at the government of Gaul, even if, in order to accomplish my purpose, I should have to resort to unworthy intrigues! Now, ask Victoria what errand brings me back to Mayence.”

  “Tetrik believes that the peace and prosperity of Gaul require that the soldiers be induced to proclaim my son’s son the heir of his father’s office. Tetrik believes he can count upon the consent of Emperor Galien.”

  “Tetrik must, then, anticipate the speedy death of Victorin,” I answered looking fixedly at the governor.

  He, however, whose eyes were rarely met, seeing he kept them habitually lowered, answered:

  “The Franks are on the other side of the Rhine — and Victorin is of temerarious bravery. My ardent wish is that he may live many more years; but death has no respect even for the most valuable life. It is my opinion that Gaul would find a pledge of security for the future if it knew that after Victorin the power would remain with the son of him whom the army acclaimed its chief, especially seeing that the child would have for his instructress Victoria, the Mother of the Camps.”

  “But in case Victoria were to die, who tells me, Tetrik, that you would not have yourself appointed the child’s tutor, exercise the power in his name, and in that manner arrive at the government of Gaul?”

  “Are you speaking seriously, Schanvoch?” Tetrik replied. “Ask Victoria whether she needs my help in order to render her grandson worthy of her and of the country? Do you imagine she is one of those weak women who feel forced to share a glorious task with others? Is not the idolatry that the soldiers entertain for her a sufficient guarantee that, in the event of Victorin’s premature death, she could preserve alone the wardship of her grandson and govern in his name?”

  Victoria shook her head thoughtfully and sadly, and said:

  “I do not like your project of transmitting the office by inheritance, Tetrik. What! Shall a child, still in his cradle, be designated to the soldiers for their choice! Who knows what may become of this child?”

  “Has he not you for his teacher?” asked Tetrik.

  “Have I not been the teacher and instructress of Victorin also?” the Mother of the Camps answered sadly. “And yet, despite all my vigilant cares, my son has defects that serve as the basis for frightful calumnies. But of these, I sincerely assure you, Tetrik, I hold you guiltless; and I now hope that my brother Schanvoch will join me in doing justice to your loyalty.”

  “I said so before, I repeat it now — I suspect this man!” I answered Victoria.

  She replied with impatience: “And I said so before and repeat it now — you are a head of iron, a genuine Breton head, rebellious to all reason, the moment a notion takes root in your brain.”

  Instinctively convinced of Tetrik’s perfidy, but having no more proofs against him, I said nothing more.

  But Tetrik resumed with a smile, and without betraying the slightest perturbation:

  “Neither you nor I, Victoria, could convince our good Schanvoch of his error. Let us le
ave that to an irresistible seductress — Truth. It will with time furnish the evidence of my loyalty. We shall return later, Victoria, to your repugnance in the matter of causing the army to acclaim your grandson the heir of his father’s office. I still expect to overcome your scruples. But as I came in I saw one of your officers who seemed to await his turn for an audience. Do you not think it well to let him come in? It is Captain Marion, the old blacksmith, whom you introduced to me at my first trip to the camp as one of the bravest men in the army.”

  “His valor matches his disposition and good judgment,” replied the Mother of the Camps. “The man has a noble heart and is a faithful friend. Despite his promotion, he has continued to love as a brother one of the old companions of his trade, who remained a simple soldier.”

  “Even at the risk of being again taken for an iron head, I am of the opinion that in the matter of this affection the good heart of Captain Marion misleads his judgment. I can only hope, Victoria, that your blindness may not be as complete as Captain Marion’s.”

  “Do you mean that the faithful companion of Captain Marion is his enemy?” queried Victoria. “You are singularly mistrustful to-day, brother!”

  When I alluded to Captain Marion and his friend I again sought to catch the eyes of the Governor of Gascony, but in vain. Nevertheless it was with no slight surprise that I noticed him slightly start with joy when I asserted that Captain Marion had a secret foe in his camp companion. Ever master over himself, Tetrik doubtlessly feared that slight as was his manifestation of joy it might not have escaped me. He said:

  “Envy is so revolting a feeling that I can never hear it mentioned without it makes a painful impression upon me. I feel positively grieved at what Schanvoch, who in this respect also, I hope, may be mistaken, tells us of the comrade of Captain Marion. But, should my presence prevent you from receiving the captain, Victoria, I shall withdraw.”

  “On the contrary, I wish you to be present at the interview that I am to have with Marion and my brother Schanvoch. They were given important commissions by my son, and yet,” she added with a sigh, “the morning is passing, and my son is not yet home!”