The Erckmann-Chatrian Megapack: 20 Classic Novels and Short Stories

by Émile Erckmann

  We went into our room. I sat down and began to praise Zeffen’s baby. Sorlé listened with delight, looking at me with her great black eyes, and wiping my forehead, for I had walked fast, and could hardly breathe.

  And then, all of a sudden, our Sâfel came in. I had not time to turn my head before he was on my knees, with his hands in my pockets. The child knew that his sister Zeffen never forgot him; and Sorlé, too, liked to bite an apple.

  You see, Fritz, when I think of these things, everything comes back to me; I could talk to you about it forever.

  It was Friday, the day before the Sabbath; the Schabbés-Goïe* was to come in the afternoon. While we were still alone at dinner, and I related for the fifth and sixth time how Zimmer had recognized me, how he had taken me into the presence of the Duke of Bellune, my wife told me that the marshal had made the tour of our ramparts on horseback, with his staff-officers; that he had examined the advanced works, the bastions, the glacis, and that he had said, as he went down the college street, that the place would hold out for eighteen days, and that it must be fortified immediately.

  * Woman, not Israelite, who on Saturday performs in a Jewish household the labors forbidden by the law of Moses.

  I remembered at once that he had asked me if we wished to defend ourselves, and I exclaimed: “He is sure that the enemy is coming; since he is going to put cannon upon the ramparts, it is because there will be need of them. It is not natural to make preparations which are not to be used. And, if the allies come, the gates will be shut. What will become of us without our business? The country people can neither go in nor out, and what will become of us?”

  Then Sorlé showed her good sense, for she said:

  “I have already thought about this, Moses; it is only the peasants who buy iron, old shoes, and our other things. We must undertake a city business for all classes—a business which will oblige citizens, soldiers and workmen to buy of us. That is what we must do.”

  I looked at her in surprise. Sâfel, with his elbow on the table, was also listening.

  “It is all very well, Sorlé,” I replied, “but what business is there which will oblige citizens, soldiers, everybody to buy of us—what business is there?”

  “Listen,” said she; “if the gates are shut and the country people cannot enter, there will be no eggs, butter, fish, or anything in the market. People will have to live on salt meats and dried vegetables, flour, and all kinds of preserved articles. Those who have bought up these can sell them at their own price; they will grow rich.”

  As I listened I was struck with astonishment.

  “Ah, Sorlé! Sorlé!” I exclaimed, “for thirty years you have been my comfort. Yes, you have crowned me with all sorts of blessings, and I have said a hundred times, ‘A good wife is a diamond of pure water, and without flaw. A good wife is a rich treasure for her husband.’ I have repeated it a hundred times. But now I know still better what you are worth, and esteem you still more highly.”

  The more I thought of it, the more I perceived the wisdom of this advice. At length I said:

  “Sorlé, meat and flour, and everything which can be kept, are already in the storehouses, and the soldiers will not need such things for a long time, because their officers will have provided them. But what will be wanted is brandy, which men must have to massacre and exterminate each other in war, and brandy we will buy! We will have plenty of it in our cellar, we will sell it, and nobody else will have it. That is my idea!”

  “It is a good idea, Moses!” said she; “your reasons are good; I approve of them.”

  “Then I will write,” said I, “and we will invest everything in spirits of wine. We will add water ourselves, in proportion as people wish to pay for it. In this way the freight will be less than if it were brandy, for we shall not have to pay for the transportation of the water, which we have here.”

  “That is well, Moses,” she said.

  And so we agreed.

  Then I said to Sâfel:

  “You must not speak of this to any one.”

  She answered for him:

  “There’s no need of telling him that, Moses. Sâfel knows very well that this is between ourselves, and that our well-being depends upon it.”

  The child for a long time resented my words: “You must not speak of this to any one.” He was already full of good sense, and said to himself:

  “So my father thinks I am an idiot.”

  This thought humiliated him. Some years afterward he told me of it, and I perceived that I had been wrong.

  Everybody has his notions. Children should not be humiliated in theirs, but rather upheld by their parents.

  CHAPTER III

  A CIRCUMCISION FEAST

  So I wrote to Pézenas. This is a southern city, rich in wools, wines, and brandies. The price of brandies at Pézenas controls that of all Europe. A trading man ought to know that, and I knew it, because I had always liked to read the list of prices in the newspapers. I sent to M. Quataya, at Pézenas, for a dozen pipes of spirits of wine. I calculated that, after paying the freight, a pipe would cost me a thousand francs, delivered in my cellar.

  As I had sold no iron for a year, I disposed of my merchandise without asking anything for it; the payment of the twelve thousand francs did not trouble me. Only, Fritz, those twelve thousand francs were half my fortune, and you may suppose that it required some courage to risk in one venture the gains of fifteen years.

  As soon as my letter was gone, I wished I could bring it back, but it was too late. I kept a good face before my wife, and said, “It will all do well! We shall gain double, triple, etc.”

  She, too, kept a good face, but we both had misgivings; and during the six weeks necessary for the receipt of the acknowledgment and acceptance of my order, and the arrival of the spirits of wine, every night I lay awake, thinking, “Moses, you have lost everything! You are ruined from top to toe!”

  The cold sweat would cover my body. Still, if any one had come to me and said, “Be easy, Moses, I will relieve you of this business,” I should have refused, because my hope of gain was as great as my fear of loss. And by this you may know who are the true merchants, the true generals, and all who accomplish anything. Others are but machines for selling tobacco, or filling glasses, or firing guns.

  It all comes to the same thing. One man’s glory is as great as another’s. This is why, when we speak of Austerlitz, Jena or Wagram, it is not a question of Jean Claude or Jean Nicholas, but of Napoleon alone; he alone risked everything, the others risked only being killed.

  I do not say this to compare myself with Napoleon, but the buying of these twelve pipes of spirits of wine was my battle of Austerlitz.

  And when I think that, on reaching Paris, Napoleon had demanded four hundred and forty millions of money, and six hundred thousand men! and that then everybody, understanding that we were threatened with an invasion, undertook to sell and to make money at any cost, while I bought, unhampered by the example of others—when I think of this, I am proud of it still and congratulate myself.

  It was in the midst of these disquietudes that the day for the circumcision of little Esdras arrived. My daughter Zeffen had recovered, and Baruch had written to us not to trouble ourselves, for they would come to Phalsburg.

  My wife then hastened to prepare the meats and cakes for the festival: the bie-kougel, the haman, and the schlachmoness, which are great delicacies.

  On my part, I had tested my best wine on the old Rabbi Heymann, and I had invited my friends, Leiser of Mittelbronn and his wife Boûné, Senterlé Hirsch, and Professor Burguet. Burguet was not a Jew, but he was worthy of being one on account of his genius and extraordinary talents.

  When a speech was wanted in the Emperor’s progress, Burguet made it; when songs were needed for a national festival, Burguet composed them between two sips of beer; when a young candidate for law or medicine was perplexed in writing his thesis, he went to Burguet, who wrote it for him, whether in French or in Latin; when fathers and moth
ers were to be moved to tears at the distribution of school prizes, Burguet was the man to do it; he would take a blank sheet of paper, and read them a discourse on the spot, such as nobody else could have written in ten years; when a petition was to be made to the Emperor or prefect, Burguet was the first man thought of; and when Burguet took the trouble to defend a deserter before the court-martial at the mayoralty, the deserter, instead of being shot on the bastion of the barracks, was pardoned.

  After all this, Burguet would return and take his part in piquet with the little Jew, Solomon, at which he always lost; and people troubled themselves no more about him.

  I have often thought that Burguet must have greatly despised those to whom he took off his hat. Yes, to see the fellows putting on important airs because they were rural guard or secretary of the mayoralty, must have made a man like him laugh in his sleeve. But he never told me so; he knew the ways of the world too well.

  He was an old constitutional priest, a tall man, with a noble figure and very fine voice; the very tones of it would move you in spite of yourself. Unfortunately, he did not take care of his own interests; he was at the mercy of the first comer. How many times I have said to him:

  “Burguet, in heaven’s name, don’t get mixed up with thieves! Burguet, don’t let yourself be robbed by simpletons! Trust me about your college expenses. When anybody comes to impose upon you I will be on the spot; I will pay the bills and hand you the account.”

  But he did not think of the future, and lived very carelessly.

  I had thus invited all my old friends for the morning of the twenty-fourth of November, and they all came to the festival.

  The father and mother, with the little infant, and its godfather and godmother, came early, in a large carriage. By eleven the ceremony had taken place in our synagogue, and we all, in great joy and satisfaction, for the child had not uttered a cry, returned together to my house, which had been made ready beforehand—the large table on the first floor, the meats in their pewter dishes, the fruits in their baskets—and we had begun in great glee to celebrate the happy day.

  The old Rabbi Heymann, Leiser, and Burguet sat at my right, my little Sâfel, Hirsch, and Baruch at my left, and the women Sorlé, Zeffen, Jételé, and Boûné, facing us on the other side, according to the command of the Lord, that men and women should be separate at festivities.

  Burguet, with his white cravat, his handsome maroon coat and his ruffled shirt, did me honor. He made a speech, raising his voice and making fine gestures like a great orator—telling of the ancient customs of our nation, of our religious ceremonies, of Paeçach (the feast of Passover), of Rosch-haschannah (the New Year), of Kippour (the day of expiation), like a true Ied (Jew), thinking our religion very beautiful and glorifying the genius of Moses.

  He knew the Lochene Koïdech (Chaldaic) as well as a bal-kebolé (cabalistic doctor).

  The Saverne people turned to their neighbors and asked in a whisper:

  “Pray, who is this man who speaks with authority, and says such fine things? Is he a rabbi? Is he a schamess (Jewish beadle)? or is he the parness (civil head) of your community?”

  And when they learned he was not one of us, they were astonished. The old Rabbi Heymann alone was able to answer him, and they agreed on all points, like learned men talking on familiar subjects and conscious of their own learning.

  Behind us, on its grandmother’s bed, inside of the curtains, slept our little Esdras, with his sweet face and little clinched hands—slept so soundly, that neither our shouts of laughter, nor the talking, nor the sound of the glasses could wake him. Sometimes one, sometimes another, went to look at him, and everybody said:

  “What a beautiful child! He looks like his grandfather Moses!”

  That pleased me, of course; and I would go and look at him, bending over him for a long while, and finding a still stronger resemblance to my father.

  At three o’clock, the meats having been removed and the delicacies spread upon the table, as we came to the dessert, I went down to find a bottle of better wine, an old bottle of Rousillon which I dug out from under the others, all covered with dust and cobwebs. I took it up carefully and placed it among the flowers on the table, saying:

  “You thought the other wine very good; what will you say to this?”

  Then Burguet smiled, for old wine was his special delight; he stretched up his hand and exclaimed:

  “Oh! noble wine, the consoler, the restorer and benefactor of poor men in this vale of misery! Oh, venerable bottle, thou bearest all the signs of old nobility!”

  He said this with his mouth full, and everybody laughed.

  I asked Sorlé to bring the corkscrew.

  As she was rising, suddenly trumpets sounded without, and we all listened and asked, “What is that?”

  At the same time the sound of many horses’ steps came up the street, and the earth and the houses trembled under an enormous weight.

  Everybody sprang up, throwing down their napkins and rushing to the windows.

  And from the French gate to the little square we saw trains of artillerymen advancing, with their great shakos covered with oil-cloth, and their saddles in sheepskins and driving caissons full of round shot, shells and intrenching tools.

  Imagine, Fritz, my thoughts at that moment!

  “This is war, my friends!” said Burguet. “This is war! It is coming! Our turn has come, at the end of twenty years!”

  I stood leaning down with my hand on the stone, and thought:

  “Now the enemy cannot delay coming. These are sent to fortify the place. And what if the allies surround us before I have received my spirits of wine? What if the Austrians or Russians should stop the wagons and seize them? I should have to pay for it all the same, and I should not have a farthing left!”

  I turned pale at the thought. Sorlé looked at me, undoubtedly having the same fears, but she said nothing.

  We stood there till they all passed by. The street was full. Some old soldiers, Desmarets the Egyptian, Paradis the gunner, Rolfo, Faisard the sapper, of the Beresina, as he was called, and some others, cried “Vive l’Empereur!”

  Children ran behind the wagons, repeating the cry, “Vive l’Empereur!” But the greater number, with closed lips and serious faces, looked on in silence.

  When the last carriage had turned the Fouquet corner, all the crowd returned with bowed heads; and we in the room looked at each other, with no wish to continue the feast.

  “You are not well, Moses,” said Burguet. “What is the matter?”

  “I am thinking of all the evils which are coming to the city.”

  “Bah! don’t be afraid,” he replied. “We shall be strongly defended! And then, God help us! what can’t be cured must be endured! Come! cheer up; this old wine will keep up our spirits.”

  We resumed our places. I opened the bottle, and it was as Burguet said. The old Rousillon did us good, and we began to laugh.

  Burguet called out:

  “To the health of the little Esdras! May the Lord cover him with his right hand!”

  And the glasses clinked. Some one exclaimed: “May he long rejoice the hearts of his grandfather Moses and his grandmother Sorlé! To their health!”

  We ended by looking at everything in rose-color, and glorifying the Emperor, who was hastening to defend us, and was soon going to crush all the beggars beyond the Rhine.

  But it is equally true that, when we separated about five o’clock, everybody had become serious, and Burguet himself, when he shook hands with me at the foot of the stairs, looked anxious.

  “We shall have to send home our pupils,” said he, “and we must sit with our arms folded.”

  The Saverne people, with Zeffen, Baruch, and the children, got into their carriage, and started silently for home.

  IV

  FATHER MOSES COMPELLED TO BEAR ARMS

  All this, Fritz, was but the beginning of troubles.

  You should have seen the city the next morning, at about eleven o’clock,
when the engineering officers had finished inspecting the ramparts, and the tidings suddenly spread that there were needed seventy-two platforms inside the bastions, three bomb-proof block-houses, for thirty men each, at the right and left of the German gate, ten palankas with battlements forming stronghold intrenchments for forty men, and four blindages upon the great square of the mayoralty to shelter each a hundred and ten men; and when it was known that the citizens would be obliged to work at all these, to provide themselves with shovels, pickaxes, and wheelbarrows, and the peasants to bring trees with their own horses!

  As for Sorlé, Sâfel, and myself, we did not even know what blindages and palankas were; we asked our neighbor Bailly, an old armorer, what they were for, and he answered with a smile:

  “You will find out, neighbor, when you hear the balls roar and the shells hiss. It would take too long to explain. You will see, by and by; never too late to learn.”

  Imagine how the people looked! I remember that everybody ran to the square, where our mayor, Baron Parmentier, made a speech. We ran there with all the rest.

  Sorlé held me by the arm, and Sâfel by the skirt of my coat.

  There, in front of the mayoralty, the whole city, men, women, and children, formed in a semicircle, and listened in the deepest silence, now and then crying all together, “Vive l’Empereur!”

  Parmentier, a tall, thin man, in a sky-blue dress-coat, a white cravat, and the tri-colored sash around his waist, stood on the top of the steps of the guard-house, with the members of the municipal council behind him, under the arch, and shouted out:

  “Phalsburgians! The time has come in which to show your devotion to the Empire. A year ago all Europe was with us, now all Europe is against us. We should have everything to fear without the energy and power of the people. He who will not do his duty now will be a traitor to his country! Inhabitants of Phalsburg, show what you are! Remember that your children have perished through the treachery of the allies. Avenge them! Let every one be obedient to the military authority, for the sake of the safety of France,” etc.

  Only to hear him made one’s flesh creep, and I said to myself: