CHAPTER XLVII. THE VILLAGE OP SCHWARTZ-ACH
I was destitute enough when I quitted the Temple, a few days back; butmy condition now was sadder still, for, in addition to my poverty andfriendlessness, I had imbibed a degree of distrust and suspicion thatmade me shun my fellow-men, and actually shrink from the contact of astranger. The commonest show of courtesy, the most ordinary exerciseof politeness, struck me as the secret wiles of that police whosemachinations, I fancied, were still spread around me. I had conceiveda most intense hatred of civilisation, or, at least, of what I rashlysupposed to be the inherent vices of civilised life. I longed for whatI deemed must be the glorious independence of a savage. If I could butdiscover this Paradise beyond seas, of which the marquise raved so much;if I only could find out that glorious land which neither knew secretintrigues nor conspiracies, I should leave France for ever, taking anycondition, or braving any mischances fate might have in store for me.
There was something peculiarly offensive in the treatment I hadmet with. Imprisoned on suspicion, I was liberated without anyamende--neither punished like a guilty man, nor absolved as an innocentone. I was sent out upon the world as though the State would not ownnor acknowledge me--a dangerous practice, as I often thought, ifonly adopted on a large scale. It was some days before I could summonresolution to ascertain exactly my position. At last I did muster upcourage, and, under pretence of wishing to address a letter to myself, Iapplied at the Ministry of War for the address of Lieutenant Tiernay,of the 9th Hussars. I was one of a large crowd similarly engaged, someinquiring for sons that had fallen in battle, or husbands or fathers infaraway countries. The office was only open each morning for two hours,and consequently, as the expiration of the time drew nigh, the eagernessof the inquirers became far greater, and the contrast with the coldapathy of the clerks the more strongly marked. I had given way to many,who were weaker than myself, and less able to buffet with the crowdabout them; and at last, when, wearied by waiting, I was drawing nighthe table, my attention was struck by an old, a very old man, who,with a beard white as snow, and long moustaches of the same colour, wasmaking great efforts to gain the front rank. I stretched out my hand,and caught his, and by considerable exertion at last succeeded inplacing him in front of me.
He thanked me fervently, in a strange kind of German, a patois I hadnever heard before, and kissed my hand three or four times over in hisgratitude; indeed, so absorbed was he for the time in his desire tothank me, that I had to recall him to the more pressing reason of hispresence, and warn him that but a few minutes more of the hour remainedfree.
'Speak up,' cried the clerk, as the old man muttered something in a lowand very indistinct voice; 'speak up, and remember, my friend, that wedo not profess to give information further back than the times of "LouisQuatorze."'
This allusion to the years of the old man was loudly applauded by hiscolleagues, who drew nigh to stare at the cause of it.
'Sacrebleu! he is talking Hebrew,' said another, 'and asking for afriend who fell at Ramoth-Gilead.'
'He is speaking German,' said I peremptorily, 'and asking for a relativewhom he believes to have embarked with the expedition to Egypt.'
'Are you a sworn interpreter, young man?' asked an older and moreconsequential-looking personage.
I was about to return a hasty reply to this impertinence, but I thoughtof the old man, and the few seconds that still remained for his inquiry,and I smothered my anger, and was silent.
'What rank did he hold?' inquired one of the clerks, who had listenedwith rather more patience to the old man. I translated the question forthe peasant, who, in reply, confessed that he could not tell. Theyouth was his only son, and had left home many years before, and neverwritten. A neighbour, however, who had travelled in foreign parts, hadbrought tidings that he had gone with the expedition to Egypt, and wasalready high in the French army.
'You are not quite certain that he did not command the army of Egypt?'said one of the clerks, in mockery of the old man's story.
'It is not unlikely,' said the peasant gravely; 'he was a brave and abold youth, and could have lifted two such as you with one hand, andhurled you out of that window.'
'Let us hear his name once more,' said the elder clerk--'it is worthremembering.'
'I have told you already. It was Karl Kleher.'
'The General--General Kleher!' cried three or four in a breath.
'Mayhap,' was all the reply.
'And are you the father of the great general of Egypt?' asked the elder,with an air of deep respect.
'Kleher is my son; and so that he is alive and well, I care little if ageneral or simple soldier.'
Not a word was said in answer to this speech, and each seemed to feelreluctant to tell the sad tidings. At last the elder clerk said, 'Youhave lost a good son, and France one of her greatest captains. TheGeneral Kleher is dead.'
'Dead!' said the old man slowly.
'In the very moment of his greatest glory, too, when he had won thecountry of the Pyramids, and made Egypt a colony of France.'
'When did he die?' said the peasant.
'The last accounts from the East brought the news; and this very day theCouncil of State has accorded a pension to his family of ten thousandlivres.'
'They may keep their money. I am all that remains, and have no want ofit; and I should be poorer still before I'd take it.'
These words he uttered in a low, harsh tone, and pushed his way backthrough the crowd.
One moment more was enough for my inquiry.
'Maurice Tiernay, of the 9th--_destitue_,' was the short and stunninganswer I received.
'Is there any reason alleged---is there any charge imputed to him?'asked I timidly.
'_Ma foi!_ you must go to the Minister of War with that question.Perhaps he was paymaster, and embezzled the funds of the regiment;perhaps he liked Royalist gold better than Republican silver; or perhapshe preferred the company of the baggage-train and the ambulances, whenhe should have been at the head of his squadron.'
I did not care to listen longer to this impertinence, and making my wayout I gained the street. The old peasant was still standing there, likeone stunned and overwhelmed by some great shock, and neither heeding thecrowd that passed, nor the groups that halted occasionally to stare athim.
'Come along with me,' said I, taking his hand in mine. 'Your calamity isa heavy one, but mine is harder to bear up against.'
He suffered himself to be led away like a child, and never spoke a wordas we walked along towards the _barriere_, beyond which, at a shortdistance, was a little ordinary, where I used to dine. There we had ourdinner together, and as the evening wore on, the old man rallied enoughto tell me of his son's early life, and his departure for the army. Ofhis great career I could speak freely, for Kleber's name was, in soldieresteem, scarcely second to that of Bonaparte himself. Not all thepraises I could bestow, however, were sufficient to turn the old manfrom his stern conviction, that a peasant in the 'Lech Thai' was a morenoble and independent man than the greatest general that ever marched tovictory.
'We have been some centuries there,' said he, 'and none of our name hasincurred a shadow of disgrace. Why should not Karl have lived like hisancestors?'
It was useless to appeal to the glory his son had gained--the noblereputation he had left behind him. The peasant saw in the soldier butone who hired out his courage and his blood, and deemed the calling alow and unworthy one. I suppose I was not the first who, in the effortto convince another, found himself shaken in his own convictions; for Iown before I lay down that night many of the old man's arguments assumeda force and power that I could not resist, and held possession of mymind even after I fell asleep. In my dreams I was once more beside theAmerican lake, and that little colony of simple people, where I had seenall that was best of my life, and learned the few lessons I had everreceived of charity and good-nature.
From what the peasant said, the primitive habits of the Lech Thai mustbe almost alike those of that little colony, and
I willingly assented tohis offer to accompany him in his journey homeward. He seemed to feel akind of satisfaction in turning my thoughts away from a career that heheld so cheaply, and talked enthusiastically of the tranquil life of theBregenzerwald.
We left Paris the following morning, and, partly by diligence, partly onfoot, reached Strasbourg in a few days; thence we proceeded by Kehl toFreyburg, and, crossing the Lake of Constance at Rorschach, we enteredthe Bregenzerwald on the twelfth morning of our journey. I suppose thatmost men preserve fresher memory of the stirring and turbulent scenes oftheir lives than of the more peaceful and tranquil ones, and I shallnot be deemed singular when I say that some years passed over me inthis quiet spot, and seemed as but a few weeks. The old peasant was the_Vorsteher_, or ruler of the village, by whom all disputes were settled,and all litigation of a humble kind decided--a species of voluntaryjurisdiction maintained to this very day in that primitive region. Myoccupation there was as a species of secretary to the court, an officequite new to the villagers, but which served to impress them morereverentially than ever in favour of this rude justice. My legal dutiesover, I became a vine-dresser, a wood-cutter, or a deer-stalker, asseason and weather dictated--my evenings being always devoted to thetask of schoolmaster. A curious seminary was it, too, embracing everyclass from childhood to advanced age, all eager for knowledge, and allsubmitting to the most patient discipline to attain it. There was muchto make me happy in that humble lot. I had the love and esteem of allaround me; there was neither a harassing doubt for the future, nor therich man's contumely to oppress me; my life was made up of occupationswhich alternately engaged mind and body, and, above all and worth allbesides, I had a sense of duty, a feeling that I was doing that whichwas useful to my fellow-men; and however great may be a man's stationin life, if it want this element, the humblest peasant that rises to hisdaily toil has a nobler and a better part.
As I trace these lines, how many memories of the spot are rising beforeme!--scenes I had long forgotten--faces I had ceased to remember! Andnow I see the little wooden bridge--a giant tree, guarded by a singlerail, that crossed the torrent in front of our cottage; and I beholdonce more the little waxen image of the Virgin over the door, in whoseglass shrine at nightfall a candle ever burned! and I hear the low humof the villagers' prayer as the 'Angelus' is singing, and see on everycrag or cliff the homebound hunter kneeling in his deep devotion!
Happy people, and not less good than happy! Your bold and barrenmountains have been the safeguard of your virtue and your innocence!Long may they prove so, and long may the waves of the world's ambitionbe stayed at their rocky feet!
I was beginning to forget all that I had seen of life, or, if notforget, at least to regard it as a wild and troubled dream, when anaccident, one of those things we always regard as the merest chances,once more opened the floodgates of memory, and sent the whole past in astrong current through my brain.
In this mountain region the transition from winter to summer is effectedin a few days. Some hours of a scorching sun and south wind swell thetorrents with melted snow; the icebergs fall thundering from cliff andcrag, and the sporting waterfall once more dashes over the precipice.The trees burst into leaf, and the grass springs up green and fresh fromits wintry covering; and from the dreary aspect of snow-capped hills andleaden clouds. Nature changes to fertile plains and hills, and a sky ofalmost unbroken blue.
It was on a glorious evening in April, when all these changes werepassing, that I was descending the mountain above our village after ahard day's chamois-hunting. Anxious to reach the plain before nightfall,I could not, however, help stopping from time to time to watch thegolden and ruby tints of the sun upon the snow, or see the turquoiseblue which occasionally marked the course of a rivulet through theglaciers. The Alp-horn was sounding from every cliff and height, andthe lowing of the cattle swelled into a rich and mellow chorus. It wasa beautiful picture, realising in every tint and hue, in every sound andcadence, all that one can fancy of romantic simplicity, and I surveyedit with a swelling and a grateful heart.
As I turned to resume my way, I was struck by the sound of voicesspeaking, as I fancied, in French, and before I could settle the doubtwith myself, I saw in front of me a party of some six or seven soldiers,who, with their muskets slung behind them, were descending the steeppath by the aid of sticks.
Weary-looking and footsore as they were, their dress, their bearing,and their soldierlike air, struck me forcibly, and sent into my heart athrill I had not known for many a day before. I came up quickly behindthem, and could overhear their complaints at having mistaken the road,and their maledictions, uttered in no gentle spirit, on the stupidmountaineers who could not understand French.
'Here comes another fellow, let us try him,' said one, as he turned andsaw me near. 'Schwartz-Ach, Schwartz-Ach,' added he, addressing me, andreading the name from a slip of paper in his hand.
'I am going to the village,' said I in French, 'and will show the waywith pleasure.'
'How! what! are you a Frenchman, then?' cried the corporal, inamazement.
'Even so,' said I.
'Then by what chance are you living in this wild spot? How, in the nameof wonder, can you exist here?'
'With venison like this,' said I, pointing to a chamois buck on myshoulder, 'and the red wine of the Lech Thai, a man may manage to forgetVeray's and the "Dragon Vert," particularly as they are not associatedwith a bill and a waiter!'
'And perhaps you are a Royalist,' cried another, 'and don't like howmatters are going on at home?'
'I have not that excuse for my exile,' said I coldly.
'Have you served, then?'
I nodded.
'Ah, I see,' said the corporal, 'you grew weary of parade and guardmounting.'
'If you mean that I deserted,' said I, 'you are wrong there also; andnow let it be my turn to ask a few questions. What is France about? Isthe Republic still as great and victorious as ever?'
'_Sacrebleu_, man, what are you thinking of? We are an Empire some yearsback, and Napoleon has made as many kings as he has got brothers andcousins to crown.'
'And the army, where is it?'
'Ask for some half-dozen armies, and you'll still be short of themark. We have one in Hamburg, and another in the far North, holding theRussians in check; we have garrisons in every fortress of Prussia andthe Rhine Land; we have some eighty thousand fellows in Poland andGalicia--double as many more in Spain. Italy is our own, and so will heAustria ere many days go over.'
Boastfully as all this was spoken, I found it to be not far from truth,and learned, as we walked along, that the Emperor was, at that verymoment, on the march to meet the Archduke Charles, who, with a numerousarmy, was advancing on Ratishon, the little party of soldiers beingportion of a force despatched to explore the passes of the 'Vorarlberg,'and report on how far they might be practicable for the transmissionof troops to act on the left flank and rear of the Austrian army. Theirsuccess had up to this time been very slight, and the corporal wasmaking for Schwartz-Ach, as a spot where he hoped to rendezvous withsome of his comrades. They were much disappointed on my telling themthat I had quitted the village that morning, and that not a soldier hadbeen seen there. There was, however, no other spot to pass the nightin, and they willingly accepted the offer I made them of a shelter and asupper in our cottage.
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