In spite of the means that the governors have established to develop and cultivate the intelligence of the colony, there remains an ineradicable line of demarcation between the individuals who have not been subjected since birth by the need for physical labor and those whom fortune has condemned to it. They are two different species, who cannot be fused together into a common society; thought, language and everything make them distinct. They would both experience a mortal ennui if they were continually united.
In consequence of that law of nature, the two governors, their two children, the old officer, the former minister of the gospel and I assemble together every evening.
On one of those evenings, the officer told us the story of his life in these terms.
VI
“I was born in the Palatinate. My father was one of the most illustrious scholars in Germany; he had made his studies at the university of Gottingen. The Elector, who loved and cultivated letters, invited him to his Estates and appointed him director of the College of Worms.
“A short while after that establishment, my father married a young woman from one of the foremost families in the land. Four children were the fruits of that union; two boys and two girls. As the eldest, I was destined in childhood to replace my father, and made in consequence al the studies relative to his profession. My natural tastes seconded by a few dispositions, enabled me to make rapid progress. Having only attained the age of twenty-two, I was teaching literature in the college, of which I had already been named as heir to the directorship.
“A young Frenchwoman, passing through our city by chance with her mother, was curious to hear me. I had the misfortune to please her, to get to know her, to love him and be loved by her. Birth, education, tastes and fortune all seemed to unite us; only the difference of fatherland erected an insurmountable barrier between us. My father was one of those patriots who, like those of the early days of ancient Rome, adored his country and detested everything that was foreign to it, but his strongest aversion was to the French, whose light and frivolous character forced a perfect contrast with his own.
“That contradiction only augmented my amour, for it irritated my vanity, and I conceived almost as much pleasure in triumphing over an unjust prejudice as in possessing the hand of my beloved. It was not the same for the young woman. Women’s hearts are, on that matter, generally diametrically opposed to ours. There is no honest maiden who, in my position, would not have regarded the resistance as a shameful defeat, and flight as a striking victory.
“The regrets of my young inamorata, in quitting a man whose desires she had welcomed, were doubtless as keen as they were sincere, but they were stifled by the pride of her mother, and they both departed without my being able to obtain any other information than that they were returning to Paris, their birthplace.
“You know, my friends, what a first love is, and the dolor of a first separation. Every man, in such circumstances, seeks subjects of consolation analogous to his tastes, a hunter in pursuing wild beasts in the forest, a warrior in launching himself into the midst of battles. For me, nourished on the charms of study, I only found relief in reading the poets who had best given voice to the language of love: Catullus, Tibullus and, above all, Virgil in the fourth song of the Aeneid. I made their harmonious lines resound, not from the hills and the valleys, but from the walls and ceilings of my classroom.
“I taught my young pupils to respond to my tones, and had it only depended on me they too would have becomes Timaretes and Tircis. The shadow would perhaps have replaced the reality, and my heart, by virtue of being softened to fictions, would have ceased at length to be sensible, but a cruel mockery escaping the mouth of my father suddenly dissipated the illusion that was consoling me. From that moment on, the enchanting dreams vanished, never to return; the awakening was frightful, and it was henceforth impossible for me to sense my loss without an unbearable laceration of the heart.
“After futile combats, my feeble reason was finally forced to give in, and I quit the paternal roof in order to try to find the person from whom I could not live apart. I arrived in Paris and tried to pick up her trail. Having no idea of that great city, I imagined that simply by pronouncing the name of Madame Delaplace, which was that of the mother of my beloved, anyone would be able to indicate her residence to me. I therefore descended from the coach after having passed through the walls in order to seek information regarding her dwelling at the city gate, but no one knew her.
“Still led by hope, I went from door to door asking for Madame Delaplace. My foreign accent, very remarkable then, often excited nothing but laughter and astonishment. Twice, however, I thought I had finally found the person for whom I was searching so ardently, but, either in good faith or out of malice, it was the dwelling of prostitutes that had been indicated to me. That scorn, which could not have any unfortunate consequence for a heart filled with veritable love, ended up making my renounce me vain research. My only hope for success then was chance. But when I had exhausted the money I had brought with me I found myself no further advanced than the first day, and it was necessary for me to make a serious decision.
“After Mademoiselle Delaplace, the Muses were the unique object of my amour, and I flattered myself that I was one of their favorites. It was, therefore, from them that I sought some consolation, but the extreme penury of my finances did not permit me to pay gratuitous court to them. Convinced that my literary knowledge merited being distinguished in Paris, as they had been in Worms, I went to offer myself to the Royal College as a professor of philosophy. I was asked whether I was in favor of Descartes or Aristotle. On my response, which clearly demonstrated that the philosophy of the Stagirite was mistaken, and that I was for truth and against error, the door was slammed in my face.
“The same question having been asked of me in the other colleges at which I presented myself, I received a similar welcome for the same reply that I gave. I finally understood, after so many disgraces, that it was necessary for me to renounce the state of professor of philosophy. As long exercise had nevertheless rendered me philosophical, before deciding on another course of action, I reflected on those that were on offer.
“Among all estates, two in particular were distinguished to my eyes; the object of one was to spread enlightenment, the object of the other to extinguish it. By embracing the first, that of a man of letters, I would be exercising the most beautiful of all magistracies. Elevated above all the professions, and all the classes of society, everything would be submitted to my examination and censure, from the scepter to the crosier. I would identify evil, I would indicate good, I would spread enlightenment and the love of humanity everywhere.
Thus passionate for higher learning, I attributed an exaggerated influence to it in my youth. At the age when the senses have the greatest empire, I devoted them entirely to thought. I imagined that genius emanating from and participating in the divine essence, must dispose of events, and bring about those that we desire most ardently. Age and experience have certainly disillusioned me; it has been incontestably proven to me that a host of occult causes determines the affairs of this world, and that in that upheaval, it is not the man of intelligence but the fool most often triumphs. Poor petty beings that we are! We read the heavens, we know the courses of the stars, we can trace their daily march several centuries on advance, but we are incapable of being assured of our own from the present moment to the one that will follow it!
“How could I foresee in my noble enthusiasm that the rival of Demosthenes and Virgil was about to fall to the rank of a simple soldier?”
“What are you calling a fall?” asked Dom Antonin. “After the rank of legislator, I know of none finer than that of defender of the fatherland.”
“Undoubtedly,” replied the old soldier, “a brave soldier is a precious citizen. But you will agree that it is very cruel for a man who loves justice and humanity to serve as an instrument of injustice and tyranny. It is to that, however, that the military man is most frequently exposed, bec
ause, for every reasonable war commanded for the salvation of the state there are ten criminal ones that are only ignited by ambition and the foolish ardor for conquests. I served under the two greatest captains of the century, Turenne and Condé; both were distinguished by their probity, and yet both have not only torn the bosom of their fatherland but have undertaken and sustained foreign wars that, if they had been submitted to the judgment of an impartial tribunal, would only ever have made a noise in the council by which they would have been rejected.
“Condemned by my birth to serve in the humblest ranks, it was only after fifteen years of service that I was made an officer, and you shall see by the action that obtained me the recompense in question and the one that nearly lost it for me, how different civil virtues are from military virtues.24
“You will recall that during invasion of Holland, the enemy lowered arms when we had passed the Rhine after the atrocious words of the Duc de Longueville: No quarter for that rabble,25 for which he justly paid with his death. The following day, I was sent to reconnoiter the country at the head of a detachment. On arriving in a village, without having encountered a single armed man, we perceived a crowd of women and children, who ran away from us and took refuge in a church, The detachment wanted to set fire to it, but I opposed it with all my might, and it was not without danger to my life that I saved those unfortunates. Would you believe that I was denounced as a traitor for that act of humanity, and the command of the detachment was taken away from me in the following expedition?
“In despair at such bloodthirsty ingratitude, I sought death, and in an engagement that happened not long afterwards I launched myself at a battery of six cannons that was protecting a defile. By an extraordinary good luck, the blast did not hit me, and, hurling myself on the battery I took possession of it before a second discharge. The finest deeds of a soldier, if they are not witnessed by a leader worthy to appreciate them, are lost in the obscurity of his rank. Fortunately, that one was noticed by Monsieur de Turenne, and I was immediately promoted to lieutenant.
“In the next campaign I captured an enemy flag and was elevated to the rank of captain. In the absence of a talent or extraordinary hazard, that grade was the nec plus ultra of officers of fortune, but, far from being ambitious for a superior position, I only hoped to retire from the service. I had only embraced that estate by necessity; it was becoming more odious to me from day to day. That unjust and cruel war in Holland filled me with horror, but I only wanted to leave with honor, and for that it was necessary for me to wait for peace. It was still a long way off, and shortly after the flooding of Holland I was obliged to march, still under the orders of Monsieur de Turenne, to the burning of the Palatinate.
“Imagine my state of mind when, having returned to the gates of my native city, which I had not seen for twenty years, I was commanded, along with the regiment of which I was a part, to burn it. I ran to throw myself at Monsieur de Turenne’s feet, imploring him to spare my homeland, or, at the very least, the roof under which I was born, where my family dwelt. ‘This is impossible,’ he said to me, coldly, ‘but I hold you in esteem and I will compensate you for your loss. I only recommend you not to say anything about it, for I am not in a position to do as much for everyone.’
“Less touched by the Maréchal’s generosity than his refusal, I replied to him curtly that I did not want anything, and ran inside the city wall. I launched myself through the tumult, the blood, the fire and the most frightful and frantic disorder; I reached the paternal house. What a spectacle was presented to my eyes! My two sisters were fleeing through the flames, their children in their arms, and my brother was striving, with my old father, to save his daughter from the brutality of the soldiers.
“One of those wretches was about to thrust his bayonet into my father’s breast when I laid him at my feet with my saber, and tried, by having myself recognized, to arrest the fury of the others. A vain effort! Intoxication and rage was at their peak, and no longer knew any brake. Reduced to defending my life, I succumbed to the weight of numbers and fell, pierced by several bayonet-thrusts.
“I was carried unconscious to the general headquarters. The men of the art judged my wounds to be very grave; they orders me to the waters at Barèges, and on their report that I would never be in a fit state to resume service, I obtained my retirement with the pension of my rank.
“My father, already infirm and languishing, died of the effects of that horrible scene. The rest of my family, having had the good luck to escape and to rejoin me, had not left me. I recommended them to the Maréchal, who came to visit me several times. He promised to realize in their favor the offer he had made to me, and as soon as I was in a condition to support the fatigue of the journey, I left for the Pyrenees.
“Since that time on I have lived there, in summer at the waters and in winter in the village nearby, which I preferred to any other refuge. The good air and the mild tranquility, for which I sighed for such a long time, the assurance of the return of my family to its hearth, the reestablishment of its property and its former fortune, thanks to the cares of the good Monsieur de Turenne, all completed my cure and contributed to rendering my retirement delightful. I had resolved to finish my life there, if cruel politics had not chased me away with the worthy villagers who formed my new family.
“A few good books, a beautiful countryside and peace—that was the happiest thought that was present in my reveries after the tumultuous years of military service. All that my felicity lacked, which I have found since I have been with you, was the society of amiable and educated individuals.”
VII
Several inhabitants returning from cutting wood on the mountain came to tell us that they had seen bear tracks in the snow. We thought at first that they were mistaken, because the governors had assured us that after the rupture of the cornice, none of those animals, nor any wolves, remained in the Valley, and it was certain that none could have been introduced after the rupture. However, we investigated the tracks in question, and verified that they were, indeed, the footprints of a bear. In consequence, the governors charge five men, among the most expert and bravest hunters, to complete the destruction of what still remained of those harmful animals. I was appointed head of the expedition.
We left at first light, each of us armed with a good rifle and four cartridges. After an hour’s march following the animal’s racks, we perceived it in the distance, retreating at a slow pace. Judging that it was near to its lair, where we would trap it more easily, one of us climbed a tree in order to observe its direction. He saw it go into a cavern. I then ordered three of our men to go around the cavern by way of a long detour, and to approach it when we did, so as to catch the bear at the same distance between two fires when it emerged from its shelter.
The order was executed perfectly. We all stopped some twenty paces away to either side of the cavern. In response to the shouts we uttered the animal appeared, roaring. It was immediately felled by three rifle shots. The noise of the discharge drew another bear out of the cave, at which three further shots were aimed. The latter, less grievously wounded, got up from its fall and hurled itself in our direction, but we had had time to reload, and it was finished by a second fusillade.
Two little cubs, barely able to walk, then appeared at the entrance to the cavern. We approached them cautiously, and having assured ourselves that the two animals we had killed were a male and a female, and that none remained but the two cubs, still being nursed by their mother, we took them away.
The education of those animals has confirmed the opinion that I have held for a long time, than in general, the instinct of carnivorous animals is far superior to that of herbivores. Our bears are perfectly domesticated, as faithful and as vigilant as the best guard dogs. They protect our sheep from attack by eagles, the only enemy that we now have to fear. They acquit that function all the better because an eagle has no adversary more redoubtable than a bear; they flee at top sped as soon as they perceive or hear one.
T
hat superiority of instinct in the animals that live on flesh is necessary in order that they can find and surprise their prey. If the wolf were not more cunning than the ewe, the species would not have been able to survive. I am thus disposed to believe that the most intelligent of animals is not, as is claimed, the strongest of the class of herbivores—to wit, the elephant—but the most redoubtable of carnivores, to wit, the lion.
Several facts come to the support of this opinion. It is known that in Asia, lions are trained for hunting, and that no other animal can compare with it for skill. Who does not know the story of the hungry lion, launched into the arena against a slave, whose feet it came to lick, recognizing in that wretch, who was expecting to be devoured, the benefactor who had once cured it of a dolorous wound? The ancients possessed the art of taming that terrible animal. Those enjoying triumphs harnessed them to their chariots; they have been seen following their masters like dogs, and perhaps one might succeed, with time, patience and a few precautions, in making that class of animals domestic, attached to the service of humans like that of dogs, which were originally savage and ferocious, and still are in some countries.
That occasion was the last on which use was made of firearms for hunting. The governors, judging that some need more important for their employment might arise, had all the powder and al the rifles that remained in the valley collected and locked away. The bow has been substituted for the rifle. The use of that weapon, so widespread before the discovery of gunpowder, was initially very awkward, but in a short time, exercise and competition produced archers who would have been able to match themselves against the most celebrated in Crete.
The Aerial Valley Page 8