The Aerial Valley

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by Brian Stableford


  “I was fifteen years old at the moment of that augmentation of fortune. The virtuous education I had received had fortified the innocence and purity of my inclinations, and I as only sensible to the wealth because it furnished me with more means to instruct myself and to help the unfortunate.

  “Some time after our establishment in Touraine, my mother had a desire to see Paris. It is rare that a woman, enjoying such great opulence, does not yield at least once in her life to the curiosity to visit the capital of Europe, enriched by the glory of so many great men and ornamented by the graces of so many beautiful women; but she did not think that she ought to undertake the voyage without having obtained the agreement of her husband. The latter, having become the prime minister,37 consented to my mother’s request, but under the most rigorous condition of the profoundest discretion regarding everything concerning him.

  “On arrival in Paris, my mother, in conformity with the Cardinal’s order, took the title of Comtesse, and I was known as Monsieur le Comte. We had a town house, two carriage and numerous domestics.

  “Among the people attracted by our fortune was a very discreet and guileful abbé, who exposed with a great deal of artistry the traps that were extended for me in society, and ended up proposing that he serve as my guide therein. Fortunately, that proposal was not at all to my mother’s liking, for, although I was too young to judge men accurately, the man displeased me precisely by virtue of the efforts he made to please me. She replied that her son, never quitting her, was not running any risk of taking a false route.

  “The abbé insisted that at least I should go to visit the Cardinal; it was, he said, an indispensable duty for any distinguished man arriving in Paris, and offered to introduce me to His Eminence, with whom he had the honor of being acquainted. That priest, so great in terms of his position was so discredited by his conduct, and was so notorious throughout France for combining the most abject baseness with the most impudent pride and the most crapulous libertinage, that the second proposal displeased my young and simple innocence as much as the other, but the abbé caused dangers to be glimpsed in my refusal, and my mother, alarmed, demanded the sacrifice of my repugnance.

  “To begin with, we were introduced into a drawing room where several individuals of the highest rank were assembled. The abbé whispered in the ear of an usher, and Monsieur le Comte de Ville-Franche was soon called. The abbé went with me into the cardinal’s study.

  “I expected to see the face of a monster who bore all his vices written in his features, but I perceived, on the contrary, a mild face, a fine and intelligent gaze, and the most affable welcome. After having considered me with a great deal of attention, he asked whether I did not want to acquire a position, either in the army or the magistracy.

  “I stammered a few words in a timid tone. He came closer and patted me on the cheeks with the flat of his hand. ‘Come, come, my young friend,’ he said. ‘You have need of a support; regard me as your father, I am absolutely of a mind to serve you.’

  “I said: ‘Monsieur…’ and stopped short. I was torn between two conflicting sentiments. When I looked at him I was tempted to take him for the most honest man in the world, but when, reentering into myself, I recalled what I had been told about him, he filled me with horror, and I was impatient to get away. The abbé strove to make me listen by signs that he was my best friend, and I might perhaps have allowed myself to be gained by his concern, when the Maréchal de Villeroi was announced.38

  “At that name, the Cardinal’s face suddenly changed. So mild and cheerful before, it was alternately animated by anger and baseness, vengeance and perfidy. The mask had fallen and I saw, in all his ugliness, the scoundrel that had been described to me.

  “We left without being noticed, so preoccupied was he by receiving the visit of a man that he detested, and whom he would have liked to strangle while embracing him.

  “I shall not tell you, Messieurs, what happened during the fifteen years39 that I spent in Paris. A stranger in the midst of the events and tumult of the capital, my ardent mind was at first entirely absorbed by a single chimera: the quest for the perfectibility of the human species. The attentive study I had made of the writings of philosophers, ancient and modern, had convinced me that a means existed of raising humankind above the limits within which it had thus far been confined. I thought that it was uniquely for want of searching for it where it was that the means in question had not been found. The glory, intoxicating at my age, of such a sublime discovery, filled all my faculties.

  “It seemed to me that the three constitutive parts of our being—the body, the mind and the heart—ought to collaborate equally in the acquisition that that perfectibility. From that derived the necessity of perfect health, a broad education and the purest morality. All my research tended toward those three objectives, and you can imagine how much work was involved; but the results were very different from what I had hoped. Obstinate in improving my physical existence to an ever greater degree, I fell ill; I became almost stupid by dint of trying to elevate my mind; and the profound study of morality perhaps ended up even taking away the sentiment of the just and the unjust.

  “There is no point in telling you about the various follies that occupied me thereafter; I am in haste to arrive at the event that determined the rest of my life.

  “The Cardinal was afflicted by a malady, the fruit of his debauchery, which took him to the grave. Before then he underwent an operation, which, far from returning him to health, accelerated his terminal decline. In those dire moments, he summoned me, but when I arrived in his presence he was already no longer able to speak. He recognized me, however, and he put in my hands a sealed paper, which he indicated by signs that I ought to take away with me. It was addressed to my mother.

  “I took it to her, but instead of telling me what it contained, as she habitually did with everything she received, she maintained the most profound mystery with regard to that writing. Her health, which was already depleted, deteriorated day by day after that event.

  “When she sensed her last moment approaching, she summoned me to her bedside, and revealed to me the sad secret of my existence. She told me that my father—and you have doubtless suspected it, Messieurs, since the beginning of the story—was that same prime minister, Cardinal Dubois, too unfortunately celebrated thought France. She unveiled to me at the same time her husband’s intrigues to remove and destroy the evidence of his marriage and oblige her to silence regarding that circumstance. Finally, she confided to me that the letter that I had given to her was a testament by the Cardinal, which assured her of the possession of immense wealth.

  “My mother’s sole inheritor after her death, which followed shortly after that revelation, I found myself the possessor of a fortune that would have sufficed for the subsistence of a province. I detested its origin, and seemed to hear myself incessantly reproaching myself for enjoying the fruits of the sale of my fatherland to its enemies, of that of the functions of government, of financial positions, of the dignities of the church, of the infamous traffic of modesty and innocence. Even if it had not been impossible for me to return all those stolen goods to their various original sources, I would not have been able to repair the harm he had done, and it not have lessened or reduced the term of the chagrins attached to their possession.

  “What made matters worse was that the secret of the marriage, which had been so well hidden during the Cardinal’s life, became public, and the subject of conversations, as soon as he was dead. How can one confront such a tempest? How can one bear the all-too-just reproaches of a host of victims, and the even more bitter censure of so-called patriots? How, in sum, can only be impudent when one is not culpable? I preferred to disappear from the midst of humankind and to make restitution, by means of an invisible hand, of the wealth whose enjoyment seemed to me to be a crime.

  “When that project was settled in my mind, I founded, without making myself known, a hospice for indigent orphans and another for the elderly. After havi
ng dismissed all my domestics, while assuring them of bread for the rest of their lives, I took a public carriage in the name of Renou, carrying in my modest luggage, in diamonds and other precious stones, the remains of an odious fortune that I have consecrated entirely to the relief of misfortune.

  XVI

  “My design, in leaving Paris, was to bury myself in some corner of the Pyrenees, in order to associate myself with the wretched and peaceful mountain folk, and share the favors of Providence with them, of which they are so often deprived. On arriving here, however, I learned that the snow was already obstructing several of the roads leading to those frontiers. Thus, I was forced to spend the winter in Toulouse.

  “I devoted all of my leisure time to the study of natural history. What a vast field of meditation! I went all the way back to the birth of the world in order to contemplate the picture of nature.

  “In that primal epoch, when evil did not yet exist, the tiger was devoid of rage, the serpent had no venom and the earth was a paradise covered in fruits and flowers; thus, hand of God continued to direct his work, and in that Golden Age, the memory of which is celebrated, under different names, by all peoples, the excellence of the human race would never have had occasion to be observed in their own works. But if, in this age of iron, humans were suddenly to disappear from the earth, the brambles, the vipers and all the destructive animals would immediately take possession of their empire, and life would be nothing but an animate death.

  “In the midst of that frightful chaos, let humankind be manifest for a second time; they speak, and all order is restored; the monsters of the forest flee, the earth is embellished by the flowers of spring and the treasures of autumn; they are the envoys of Providence; the miracles without number they produce are evident proof of their mission. It is in vain that the legislator of Parnassus has conspired against that sovereign of the Universe.

  “The beautiful verses of Boileau charm the ear without obtaining the suffrage of the mind. As long as reason holds sway over instinct, the preeminence over all the creatures of the earth will belong to humankind. All beings are submissive to them. There is none, however wild it might be, that does not faithfully obey human will, when it is able to make itself heard. There is sufficient proof of that in my experience alone. I have domesticated the most apparently indocile quadrupeds and insects; for instance, these bees, which humans sometimes treat in such a barbaric manner, for which they sometimes avenge themselves so furiously, I have made my most zealous servants; they come to me and go away at my command, caressing me, kissing me and taking their nourishment from my lips.”

  At those words, Monsieur Renou perceived on our faces a few marks of surprise and curiosity, and was immediately disposed to convince us of the reality of what he had just said. From a hothouse in his garden he took an unctuous white paste, and rubbed it on his face, neck and hands.

  Immediately, the bees emerged from their hive in a host. He drew away; they followed him, heaping themselves up on his face and all over his body. He could have transported them like that to the ends of the earth. When he wanted to send his guests away he uncorked a little bottle that he was holding in his hand and poured out a few drops of the liquid that it contained. Immediately, the penetrating odor that it exhaled served as a signal for retreat; without exception, all the bees returned to the hive.

  After that experiment, Monsieur Renou continued in these terms:

  “For some time I have been absorbed in the study and the concerns of that single insect species; I have saved it from cruel proscriptions. Before me it was common practice to destroy the entire population in order to collect the produce of its labor; I have found the means of obtaining the same result without committing murder, and I believe that I have benefited humans and bees equally.

  “These solitary occupations have prolonged my sojourn in Toulouse, and I had almost decided to end my days here, if I were still able to remain unknown—but for some time, people have been observing me with more attention; someone has doubtless discovered who I am. Thus, instead of an object of esteem, I shall become one of scorn.

  “Save me, for pity’s sake, from that infamy. Take me into the most obscure depths of the Pyrenees. I only ask one thing from people, for the good that I can still do them, and that is that they do me no harm.”

  We consented to his desires, which procured our hermitage the double acquisition, equally precious, of a useful insect and a brother, in accordance with our heart, endowed with a perfect vocation.

  We were constrained to suspend our return journey until the first frosts of winter, in order to be able to transport the hives without fear of losing the inhabitants. We employed the time that elapsed before that season in visiting the useful or simply objects that were to be found in Toulouse. We have brought with us all those that appeared to us to be susceptible of some utility in our solitude.

  Among those objects is a plant of the greatest value, the potato. The root in question, which was unknown in France when our fathers left, has been introduced there since, with great success. It furnishes a very healthy aliment and resists almost all the bad weather that causes other productions to perish. Thus, it is an inappreciable aid in years of dearth. With that generous supplement, we would not have suffered the horrors of famine ten years ago.

  With regard to items of pure pleasure, they are only suitable to a people composed of two distinct classes, one very numerous that labors, and the other very small, which enjoys and only occupies itself with pleasures. Those things have been brought to a point of perfection that can perhaps only be appreciated and savored by that small class of rich people. Can you, inhabitants of a world that has nothing in common with the earth, conceive of the importance of dancing, the luxury of garments, of carriages, of furniture and a host of similar superfluities?

  I confess, however, that there are in the fine arts cultivated down below parts that would be susceptible of pleasing you. I have brought engravings and a few statues that will give you some idea of the art of painting and that of sculpture; but what will interest you most of all is a few pieces of religious music that will suit our celebrations.

  I would also like to talk to you about the theatrical performances of the beautiful tragedies of Corneille and Racine; another writer, Monsieur Voltaire, marches close on the heels of those great men. I have seen the masterpieces of those poets played. The pleasure of hearing the beautiful lines of Iphigénie, Cinna, Oedipus and Brutus from actors who know how to make their magic felt is beyond any idea that I can give you.

  When the flowers nourishing the bees had withered and the lack of nourishment in the surroundings, with the return of the frosts, confined them to their houses, to live on the provisions that they had amassed during the summer, Monsieur Renou occupied himself with their transportation, and we set forth.

  The day of our departure from the earth for our heaven was the most beautiful of our lives. Adieu, superb and unfortunate earth, abode of pride and poverty, accumulation of gold and mud, atmosphere of perfumes and smoke; be proud of your arts and your genius; all the masterpieces of your great men are not worth the innocence and peace of our Valley.

  It results from our voyage that if our population is augmented to the point of being obliged to end a colony outside, the only place that is suitable for its establishment is the one where our fathers once lived. It is the only one where their descendants will still find friends and brothers.

  Here ends the journal of the travelers returned to our midst. After having transcribed it, I am taking up the pen in order to deplore the terrible consequences of that unfortunate voyage.

  XVII

  Until that day, we only knew by the tradition of our fathers the malady that attacks all nascent generations on earth, and harvests such a great number of them every year. Smallpox was as foreign to us as the plague or war. One of our voyagers, our governor, brought us the germ of that cruel scourge; it developed almost immediately after his return. We succeeded in saving his life, but that
new poison has spread through our population; it has already cut back a large part of the excess by reason of which we had sought another abode in advance. What completes our chagrin is that it will be a source of destruction for our posterity that it will be impossible ever to exclude.

  To that physical evil, a moral evil was joined, perhaps more deadly still. That Monsieur Renou, who had desired with so much ardor to join our society, and who, in accordance with the report of our voyagers, we considered at first as one of our most cherished brothers, suddenly changed his language and his conduct. He became somber and misanthropic, living alone in the woods outside of the time necessary for the care of his bees. He even ceased to take his meals in common with us, and, taking with him the nourishment necessary for the day, often only reappeared in the evening to sleep in his cabin.

  When bad weather or some accident forced him to remain among us, he occupied himself solely in castigating our conduct and customs; inveighing against the doctrine of our catechism, he preached another, which he claimed to be wiser. His zeal was bitter, and his egotistical and concentrated philosophy tended to isolate human beings instead of identifying them with their peers.

  We discovered, however, that that grim man had a great penchant for women, and from that moment, we thought that we were assured of being able to cure him, for it is impossible for the most obstinate man, if he has a sensible heart, to resist the ascendancy of the truth when it is presented to him by a sex that ornaments it with its own charms. If it is from the thought of man that reason emanates, but it is the grace of woman that ensures its triumph. Wisdom might have been astonishing, emerging fully armed from the brain of Jupiter, but she only obtained the homage of the earth be appearing in the features of a goddess.

 

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