Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  “You double rustic! I charge you with speaking when I order you to hold your tongue! Head and bowels! Forward, or I shall knock you down!” cried the petty officer brutally, raising his cane; and stroking his moustache he proceeded:

  “Oh, there is the wedding! The bride may, perhaps, be worth rumpling! Bah! She probably is but one of their big flat-footed wenches! And yet, who knows! We shall see! Drummers, beat the march!”

  When Paskou the Long heard the sergeant’s allusions to the bride, he raised his two long arms to heaven; Madok the miller, a resolute man, clenched his fists, and casting a defiant look at the soldier, was about to explode, when he was restrained by a sign from Salaun. Madok yielded to his friend, realizing that it would be an act of madness to attempt, under the circumstances, a struggle against the armed men. Surrounded by these, the three Bretons resigned themselves to move forward, leading their mounts by the bridle. The detachment resumed its march, drums beating and bell ringing, towards the nuptial procession. The sergeant walked ahead.

  Such was the terror with which the soldiers of Louis XIV inspired the poor folks of our country districts, that at the first sight of the red-coats the children threw themselves weeping into their mothers’ arms; the young girls drew timidly close to their parents; and a good number of the vassals began to tremble, while the blacksmith and other determined men of his stamp could hardly control their anger. At this place the road was narrowed between two bluffs topped with brush. The detachment divided in two. One-half halted at the head of the procession in order to bar its passage, should it attempt to proceed; the other half marched on to the rear in order to cut off the retreat.

  Kept as hostages in the midst of the rear guard platoon, Salaun Lebrenn, Paskou the Long and Madok the miller were unable to approach their friends. Nominoë, with his wife on the crupper of his horse, saw with as much surprise as anxiety his father a prisoner of the soldiers.

  “Let none of you budge or breathe, ye rustics! If you do, by God’s death! my men will open fire, and will rip you open with their bayonets!” cried Sergeant La Montagne, stepping with his cane raised towards the peasants, who crowded back upon one another in order to make room for him.

  Turning thereupon to the bailiff and the usher:

  “Do your work! I shall in the meantime step over to the bride and inspect her,” added the swash-buckler, looking to the right and to the left.

  It did not take the sergeant long to discover the charming face of the bride, who, moreover, was recognizable by the nuptial ribbons, and was all the more in evidence being on horseback behind Nominoë.

  “God’s blood! The handsome girl! The lassie is too dainty a morsel for that clod-hopping husband!” exclaimed the sergeant, and he took several steps to draw nearer to Tina.

  A heavy roll of the drum, accompanied by the repeated ringing of the bell, drowned the last words of the impudent soldier. After that signal for silence, the bailiff of the very high, very powerful, very honorable and very redoubtable Seigneur Justin-Dominic-Raoul Neroweg, Count of Issoire in Auvergne; Baron of Nointel, Valdeuil and other places in Beauvoisis; Seigneur of Plouernel and Mezlean in Brittany, etc., etc., announced:

  “That the said Gildas Lebrenn, vassal and lease-holder of the fief of Mezlean, having, with evil intent and for other reasons, put off, beyond the only and last term, the payment of the taxes, imposts and duties, which it had pleased the very high and very powerful and very redoubted seigneur, etc., etc., to assess upon his vassals of Mezlean, therefore, the furniture, crops, cattle, domestic and field animals, household utensils, etc., etc., of the said Gildas Lebrenn are hereby ordered to be seized and sold by virtue of military constraint. And if the said goods and chattels of the said Gildas shall not suffice to meet his obligations, then action shall be instituted against a house, to him belonging as the property of his wife, and the said house, in default of a purchaser in block, shall be demolished, and its doors, windows, beams, rafters and other debris shall be sold to the highest bidder at the option of the said bailiff, who, having presented himself at the said farm, called Karnak, in order to execute the orders herein contained and to effect the seizure, found the house closed and the stable empty, the latter of which should have contained especially two yokes of white and orange oxen, the which, being exposed by the malignity of the said Gildas to being kept out of the farm in the evening and to being surreptitiously sold during the day, the said usher now came to seize them bodily, hic et nunc, without prejudice to the other seizures which he reserves the right of operating on the said farm, including the materials that may proceed from the demolition of the house above referred to.

  “The bailiff, being also vested with the powers of the very respectable, discreet, pious and venerable curate of the parish, shall collect by force of the same seizures, an arrear of tithes due to the said venerable person by the said Gildas Lebrenn and other vassals herein below named, etc., etc.

  “The said bailiff also comes to proceed against one Tankeru, a blacksmith, charged with and convicted of having poached in the confines of the forest of Mezlean, in order, wickedly and of deliberate purpose, to interfere with the pleasures of the very high, very redoubted and very powerful seigneur, etc., etc., by killing his game, notably a ten-pronged deer, in the course of the night of the 5th day of the present month, as appears from the deposition of one of the forester-watchers of the said seigneur, etc., etc. By reason of the said crime, the said Tankeru, a blacksmith, is ordered to be apprehended in body, and taken to the seigniorial jail, in order there to undergo the preliminary punishment of the whip, without prejudice to further imprisonment and fines to be paid, etc., etc.”

  The complaints of the bailiff having been made known amid the mournful silence of the nuptial party, the drum was once more beaten, the bell was once more rung, and then the usher of the fisc spoke in turn:

  “A requisition against the same Gildas Lebrenn and five other leasehold peasants, hereinbelow named, etc., etc., who, with evil intent, or for other wrongful cause, having paid neither the taxes, nor the tithes, nor the capitation, etc., etc., furtively left their houses before the said usher could present himself there this morning, taking with them their spans of oxen, their wagons and their horses, the same being the most important part of the havings of the said peasants; and, fearing lest they may profit by the market day of Bezenek, which is to begin early to-morrow morning, and surreptitiously make away with their said oxen, wagons and horses, the said usher now comes to operate illico the seizure of the said animals and wagons, without prejudice of other recuperations, etc., etc.”

  The peasants listened to the reading of the preceding jargon with increasing consternation and rage, but without astonishment, similar seizures being matters of daily recurrence in Brittany and in all the other provinces of France. But what, on that day, drove the indignation of the peasants to the point of rage was the insolence of Sergeant La Montagne. While the bailiff and the usher reeled off their legal jargon, the insolent swash-buckler approached Tina, and, with his plumage dangling over his ear, stretching out his legs, arching himself in his gallooned coat, and stroking his moustache with one hand, while with the other he caressed the hilt of his sword, he pursued the young bride with his brazen looks. Tina turned her head away, and took shelter behind the back of Nominoë, who, outraged by the soldier’s audacity, was livid with anger. Nevertheless, he restrained himself; in order to preserve his self-control all the more fully, he sought to move a little further to the rear; but the moment he made his horse take a few steps backward, the sergeant seized the bridle rudely and kept the animal motionless. The peasants who saw the sergeant’s conduct, began to grumble. But he, casting a disdainful look at them and brandishing his cane, shouted:

  “Head and bowels! Meseems these rustics are raising objections! By God’s death, I’ll know how to bring you to your senses!”

  “Think of your wives — your daughters — your children! Patience! patience!” cried Salaun Lebrenn in a loud voice from among
the platoon of soldiers who held him, Paskou the Long and the miller at a distance. “All keep cool, and have patience, my friends!”

  The wise warning of Salaun Lebrenn was hearkened to. The grumbling ceased. La Montagne, attributing the resignation of the peasants to the fear that he inspired, redoubled in audacity. Brutally placing one hand upon Tina’s knees, who sat upon the crupper of Nominoë’s horse, he said to her:

  “God’s blood! Look at me, my pretty lassie! Fear not, my pretty maid — my moustache causes only men to tremble,” he added, fastening a look of contempt upon Nominoë.

  Thereupon, carrying outrage to its climax, the sergeant raised himself on tip-toe, passed his arm around Tina’s waist, and drawing her to him, said: “Give me a sweet kiss! God’s death! it is the meed of the brave!”

  Nominoë was without arms; but with a movement that was swifter than thought, he drew his foot from the stirrup, and with a kick of his heel, vigorously planted in the sergeant’s chest, he hurled him reeling upon Tankeru, who was rushing to the defense of his daughter. The blacksmith gripped the swash-buckler by the neck and threw him flat upon the ground.

  “Help, soldiers!” bellowed the sergeant as Tankeru threw him down. “To the rescue!”

  Those of the soldiers who happened to be near their chief sought to rush to his aid, but finding themselves quickly surrounded and closely hemmed in by the more resolute of the peasants, they were unable to ply their bayonets.

  The blacksmith cried:

  “Let us disarm the red-coats!”

  The cry, being repeated by the other peasants, reached the ears of the platoon of soldiers that blocked the head of the procession. These rushed back to the aid of their comrades, driving aside the women and children with the butts of their guns. The mass of people, thus pushed back and crowded closely in the middle of the road, emitted shrieks of fright. All was confusion.

  At the thickest of the turmoil a lackey on horseback rode up from the direction the procession was headed in, preceding by about twenty paces two other personages, also on horseback. The lackey reined in his mount, cracked his whip and cried:

  “Room! Room for Mademoiselle Plouernel! Room for the sister of Monseigneur Neroweg of Plouernel! Make room! Make room, there!”

  CHAPTER IV.

  DESERTED!

  IT WAS, IN fact, Mademoiselle Plouernel, who, coming from the manor of Mezlean, was approaching the spot of the tumult. She wore an elegant riding habit — a long skirt and closely fitting jacket of a pearl-grey material, trimmed with knots of ribbon of the same azure-blue color as her shoulder knot and the feathers in her broad-brimmed black felt hat. She rode with ease a palfrey white as snow, and richly caparisoned with a saddle-cloth of blue velvet trimmed in silver. An old equerry with grey hair and dressed, like the lackey, in the Plouernel livery — green, orange and silver — accompanied Bertha. Her beautiful, yet pale and delicate face, revealed the ravages of a protracted illness from which she was only recently recovered. The thinness of her cheeks imparted the appearance of abnormal size to her black and feverishly brilliant eyes. The melancholy of her physiognomy, coupled with a slight suggestion of despondency in her bearing, gave an irresistible charm to her person. Surprised at the cries and the clamor which she heard proceeding from the concourse ahead of her, from which she was still some hundred paces distant, she sent her equerry forward to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. He obeyed, and, arriving near a group of weeping women, was acquainted by them with the events that preceded. The equerry returned to his mistress and informed her that the bailiff of the Count of Plouernel had come to seize the teams and wagons of several peasants who were on their way to the temple in order to celebrate a wedding; that the bride’s father was to be arrested for poaching; and that a quarrel had broken out between the peasants and the soldiers of the Crown Regiment who came to support the demands made by the Count’s bailiff and the usher of the fisc. Seized with pity, Mademoiselle Plouernel whipped up her palfrey, and rode at a gallop towards the very center of the crowd, despite the humbly expressed apprehensions of her equerry.

  Succumbing to the influence of the terror which they felt for the soldiers, most of the peasants had responded but hesitantly to Tankeru’s call of “Let us disarm the red-coats!” The consequence of their irresolution was that the three or four soldiers, who were at first disarmed, were able to recover their weapons, to charge upon the Bretons, several of whom they wounded with their bayonets, and immediately to disengage their sergeant. Seeing the turn affairs were taking, Tankeru yielded to the entreaties of his daughter and friends, clambered up the bluff that bordered the road, glided through the hedges, and took flight across-field. He was out of danger.

  The bailiff and the usher, on their part, had, since the start of the melee, endeavored to escape. They were in full flight when they encountered Mademoiselle Plouernel as she arrived at a gallop on her palfrey, which she immediately reined in upon recognizing them by their black habit and short cloak.

  “Bailiff!” cried Bertha, warmly, “I order you, in the name of the Count of Plouernel, my brother, to renounce the seizure which you have effected. I order you to set at liberty the poacher whom you arrested!”

  Aware of the recent arrival of Mademoiselle Plouernel at the manor of Mezlean, and seeing her accompanied by an equerry in the Count’s livery, the bailiff did not question the young lady’s identity. Respectfully bowing before her he answered:

  “Mademoiselle’s orders shall be executed.”

  “And you are the usher?” added Mademoiselle Plouernel, addressing the man of the fisc. “You also are to make a seizure against a poor family of peasants?”

  “Yes, mademoiselle—”

  “You shall relinquish your pursuit. How much is due you?”

  “Item, three francs; item, sixty-seven francs; item, seven francs, eight sous and six deniers; item, two hundred — I can state each item with costs and accessories.”

  “Enough! Du Buisson, pay this man,” said Bertha to her equerry, passing to him a purse which she took from her pocket.

  And turning again to the usher:

  “Having received the money, you shall discontinue your pursuit of these people.”

  “Certainly, mademoiselle, and I shall immediately notify the sergeant who is charged to exercise the military constraint that I no longer need his services, and that he can return to his quarters with his soldiers.”

  Judging Mademoiselle Plouernel’s generous nature by these first evidences, and anxious to ingratiate himself with his master’s sister by seeming also to take an interest in the peasants, the bailiff put in:

  “I feel bound to inform mademoiselle, in all justice, the vassals of monseigneur are not wholly to blame in the matter of the scuffle with the soldiers of the Crown Regiment. The reason of the trouble was a joviality of the sergeant’s, who wished forcibly to embrace the bride. His joviality was altogether foreign to his office.”

  “Oh! These men of war — they always take themselves to be in a conquered country,” observed Mademoiselle Plouernel bitterly.

  And addressing the bailiff:

  “Go and fetch me the sergeant — I wish to speak to him; — instantly!”

  The bailiff departed to execute the order. A group of women and children, witnesses of the scene, and as touched as they were surprised by the generosity of Mademoiselle Plouernel — alas! the seigneurs and their families usually showed themselves harsh and contemptful towards the poor — showered blessings upon the young lady; they surrounded her horse; and, in the effusiveness of their gratitude, asked her the favor of allowing them to kiss her hands. Moved to tears by the attitude of the good people, Bertha answered them by pointing to the little girl who had performed the role of the “eglantine bud” at the nuptial ceremonies, and saying:

  “Bring yonder little girl to me.”

  And leaning forward on her saddle and stretching out her arms to receive the child, she added:

  “In embracing this child, I am embracing you
all, my dear women.”

  The radiant mother raised her little girl up in her hands. Bertha took her, placed her on her pommel, and tenderly kissed the child’s rosy cheeks. Charmed by these caresses, the child threw her arms around the neck of Mademoiselle Plouernel, who responded to the affectionate familiarity by embracing the child again, and again.

  Bertha then turned to her equerry:

  “Is there any money left in my purse?”

  “Yes, mademoiselle, there are seven louis left.”

  Bertha took the purse, and putting it in the hands of the little girl, said: “Take this, dear child; the gift will alleviate the misery of your parents. Give them this purse.”

  Giving the child a parting kiss, Mademoiselle Plouernel returned her to her mother, who, breaking into tears, knelt down upon the ground, and clasping her hands, cried:

  “Oh, our demoiselle! Blessings upon you! We shall ever love you!”

  “Yes, yes; blessings upon you, our demoiselle! We shall ever love you! Blessings upon you!” repeated and re-echoed a large number of women, their voices tremulous with admiration at the scene they had just witnessed.

  Little by little, and from mouth to mouth, the report of Mademoiselle Plouernel’s magnanimity, and the charitable orders that she issued to the bailiff, spread among the peasants. Many of these, having joined their wives and children, stood in a circle around the young lady as the bailiff returned, followed by Sergeant La Montagne, who was pale with rage. The man’s insolent brutality did not seem to be ready to bend before the rank of Mademoiselle Plouernel. No sooner had he arrived in her presence than he ejaculated:

  “By God’s death, mademoiselle, I am neither a bailiff nor an usher! I am a sergeant in the Crown Regiment. I receive orders from my colonel only. Several of the rustics have dared to lay hands upon me, and to disarm me! They are now in the hands of my soldiers, who will take them to Vannes. If you love pretty sights, mademoiselle, I shall afford you the pleasure of seeing the brigands hang by the neck. It is the will of Sergeant La Montagne that those rustics be hanged!”