The Erckmann-Chatrian Megapack: 20 Classic Novels and Short Stories
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“Now there will not be time for the spirits of wine to get here—that is plain! The allies are on their way!”
Elias the butcher, and Kalmes Levy the ribbon-merchant, were standing near us. Instead of crying “Vive l’Empereur!” with the rest, they said to each other:
“Good! we are not barons, you and I! Barons, counts, and dukes have but to defend themselves. Are we to think only of their interests?”
But all the old soldiers, and especially those of the Republic, old Goulden, the clockmaker, Desmarels, the Egyptian—creatures with not a hair left on their heads, nor as much as four teeth to hold their pipes—these creatures fell in with the mayor, and cried out:
“Vive la France! We must defend ourselves to the death!”
I saw several looking askance at Kalmes Levy, and I whispered to him:
“Keep still, Kalmes! For heaven’s sake, keep still! They will tear you in pieces!”
It was true. The old men gave him terrible looks; they grew pale, and their cheeks shook.
Then Kalmes stopped talking, and even left the crowd to return home. But Elias stayed till the end of the speech, and, as the whole mass of people were going down the main street, shouting “Vive l’Empereur!” he could not help saying to the old clockmaker:
“What! you, Mr. Goulden, a reasonable man, who have never wanted anything of the Emperor, you are now going to take his part, and cry out that we must defend ourselves till death! Is it our business to be soldiers? Have not we furnished enough soldiers to the Empire these last ten years? Have not enough men been killed? Must we give, besides, our own blood to support barons, counts, and dukes?”
But old Goulden did not let him finish, and replied, as if indignant: “Listen, Elias! try to keep still! The thing now to be done is not to know what is right or wrong—it is to save France. I warn you, that if you try to discourage others, it will be bad for you. Believe me—go!”
Already a number of superannuated soldiers were gathered round us, and Elias had only time to retreat by the opposite lane.
From this time public notices, requisitions, forced labors, domiciliary visits for tools and wheelbarrows, came one after another, incessantly. A man was nothing in his own house; the officers of the place assumed authority over everything: only to be sure, they gave receipts.
All the tools from my storehouse of iron were in use on the ramparts. Fortunately I had sold a good many beforehand, for these tickets in place of my wares would have ruined me.
From time to time the mayor made a speech, and the governor, a fat man, covered with pimples, expressed his satisfaction to the citizens; that made up for their money!
When my time came to take the pickaxe and draw the wheelbarrow, I arranged with Carabin, the wood-sawyer, to take my place for thirty sous. Ah, what misery! Such a time will never come again.
While the governor commanded us within the city, the soldiers were always outside to superintend the peasants. The road to Lutzelburg was but one line of carts, laden with old oaks for building blockhouses. These are large sentry-boxes, or turrets, built up of solid trunks of trees, laid crosswise one upon another, and then covered with earth. These are more solid than an arch. Shells and bombs might rain upon them without disturbing anything within, as I found afterward.
These trees were also used to make lines of enormous palisades, pointed and pierced with holes for firing; these are what they call palankas.
I seem still to hear the shouts of the peasants, the neighing of the horses, the strokes of the whips, and all the other noises, which never stopped, day or night.
My only consolation was in thinking, “If the spirits of wine comes now, it will be well defended; the Austrians, Prussians, and Russians will not drink it here!”
Every morning Sorlé expected to receive the invoice.
One Sabbath day we had the curiosity to go and see the works of the bastions. Everybody was talking about it, and Sâfel kept coming to me, saying: “The work is going on; they are filling the shells in front of the arsenal; they are taking out the cannon; they are mounting them on the ramparts!”
We could not keep the child away. He had nothing to sell now under the market, and it would be too tedious for him to stay at home. He scoured the city, and brought us back the news.
On this day, then, having heard that forty-two pieces were ranged in battery, and that they were continuing the work upon the bastion of the infantry-barracks, I told Sorlé to bring her shawl, and we would go and see.
We first went down to the French gate. Hundreds of wheelbarrows were going up the ramparts of the bastion, from which could be seen the road to Metz on the right and the road to Paris on the left.
There, above, crowds of laborers, soldiers and citizens, were heaping up a mass of earth in the form of a triangle, at least twenty-five feet in height, and two hundred in length and breadth.
An engineering officer had discovered with his spy-glass that this bastion was commanded by the hill opposite, and so everybody was set to work to place two pieces on a level with the hill.
It was the same everywhere else. The interiors of these bastions, with their platforms, were shut in all around, for seven feet from the ground, like rooms. Nothing could fall into them except from the sky. In the turf, however, were dug narrow openings, larger without, like funnels; the mouths of the cannon, which were raised upon immense carriages, were drawn out through these apertures; they could be pushed forward and backward, and turned in all directions, by means of great levers passed in rings over the hind wheels of the carriages.
I had not yet heard the sound of these forty-eight pounders. But the mere sight of them on their platforms gave me a terrible idea of their power. Even Sorlé said: “It is fine, Moses; it is well done!”
She was right, for within the bastions all was in complete order; not a weed remained, and upon the sides were piled great bags filled with earth to protect the artillerymen.
But what lost labor! and to think that every firing of these large guns costs at least a louis—money spent to kill our fellow-men!
In fine the people worked at these things with more enthusiasm than if they were gathering in their own harvests. I have often thought that if the French bestowed as much pains, good sense, and courage upon matters of peace, they would be the richest and happiest people in the world. Yes, they would long ago have surpassed the English and Americans. But when they have toiled and economized, when they have opened roads everywhere, built magnificent bridges, dug out harbors and canals, and riches come to them from all quarters, suddenly the fury of war possesses them, and in three or four years they ruin themselves with grand armies, with cannon, with powder, with bullets, with men, and become poorer than before. A few soldiers are their masters, and look down upon them. This is all it profits them!
In the midst of all this, news from Mayence, from Strasburg, from Paris, came by the dozens; we could not go into the street without seeing a courier pass. They all stopped before the Bockhold house, near the German gate, where the governor lived. A circle formed around the house, the courier mounted, then the news spread through the city that the allies were concentrated at Frankfort, that our troops guarded the islands of the Rhine; that the conscripts from 1803 to 1814 were recalled; that those of 1815 would form the reserve corps at Metz, at Bordeaux, at Turin; that the deputies were going to assemble; then, that the gates had been shut upon them, etc., etc.
There came also smugglers of all sorts from Graufthal, Pirmasens, and Kaiserslautern, with Franz Sepel, the one-armed man, at their head, and others from the villages around, who secretly scattered the proclamations of Alexander, Francis Joseph and Frederic William, saying “that they did not make war upon France, but upon the Emperor alone to prevent his further desolation of Europe.” They spoke of the abolition of duties, and of taxes of all sorts. The people at night did not know what to think.
But one fine morning it was all explained. It was the eighth or ninth of December. I had just risen, and was putti
ng on my clothes, when I heard the rolling of a drum at the corner of the main street.
It was cold, but nevertheless I opened the window and leaned out to hear the announcements. Parmentier opened his paper, young Engelheider kept up his drum-beating, and the people assembled.
Then Parmentier read that the governor of the place ordered all citizens to present themselves at the mayoralty between eight in the morning and six in the evening, without fail, to receive their muskets and cartridge-boxes, and that those who did not come, would be court-martialed.
There was the end at last! Every one who was able to march was on his way, and the old men were to defend the fortifications; sober-minded men—citizens—men accustomed to living quietly at home, and attending to their own affairs! now they must mount the ramparts and every day run the risk of losing their lives!
Sorlé looked at me without a word, and indignation made me also speechless. Not till after a quarter of an hour, when I was dressed, did I say:
“Make the soup ready. I am going to the mayoralty to get my musket and cartridge-box.”
Then she exclaimed: “Moses, who would have believed that you would have to go and fight at your age? Oh! what misery!”
And I answered: “It is the Lord’s will.”
Then I started with a sad heart. Little Sâfel followed me.
As I arrived at the corner of the market, Burguet was coming down the mayoralty steps, which swarmed with men; he had his musket on his shoulder, and said with a smile:
“Ah, well, Moses! We are going to turn Maccabees in our old age?”
His cheerfulness encouraged me, and I replied:
“Burguet, how is it they can take rational men, heads of families, and make them destroy themselves? I cannot comprehend it; no, there is no sense in it!”
“Ah,” said he, “what would you have? If they can’t get thrushes, they must take blackbirds.”
I could not smile at his pleasantries, and he said:
“Come, Moses, don’t be so disconsolate; this is only a formality. We have troops enough for active service; we shall have only to mount guard. If sorties are to be made, or attacks repulsed, they will not take you; you are not of an age to run, or to give a bayonet stroke! You are gray and bald. Don’t be troubled!”
“Yes,” I said, “that is very true, Burguet, I am broken down—more so, perhaps, than you think.”
“That is well,” said he, “but go and take your musket and cartridge-box.”
“And are we not going to stay in the barracks?”
“No, no!” he cried, laughing aloud, “we are going to live quietly at home.”
He shook hands with me, and I went under the arch of the mayoralty. The stairway was crowded with people, and we heard names called out.
And there, Fritz, you should have seen the looks of the Robinots, the Gourdiers, the Mariners, that mass of tilers, knife-grinders, house-painters, people who, every day, in ordinary times, would take off their caps to you to get a little work—you should have seen them straighten themselves up, look at you pityingly over the shoulder, blow in their cheeks, and call out:
“Ah, Moses, is it thou? Thou wilt make a comical soldier. He! he! he! They will cut thy mustaches according to regulation!”
And such-like nonsense.
Yes, everything was changed; these former bullies had been named in advance sergeants, sergeant-majors, corporals, and the rest of us were nothing at all. War upsets everything; the first become last, and the last first. It is not good sense but discipline which carries the day. The man who scrubbed your floor yesterday, because he was too stupid to gain a living any other way, becomes your sergeant, and if he tells you that white is black, you must let it be so.
At last, after waiting an hour, some one called out, “Moses!” and I went up.
The great hall above was full of people. They all exclaimed:
“Moses! Wilt thou come, Moses? Ah, see him! He is the old guard! Look now, how he is built! Thou shalt be ensign, Moses! Thou shalt lead us on to victory!”
And the fools laughed, nudging each others’ elbows. I passed on, without answering or even looking at them.
In the room at the farther end, where the names were drawn at conscriptions, Governor Moulin, Commandant Petitgenet, the mayor, Frichard, secretary of the mayoralty, Rollin, captain of apparel, and six or seven other superannuated men, crippled with rheumatism, brought from all parts of the world, were met in council, some sitting, the rest standing.
These old ones began to laugh as they saw me come in. I heard them say to one another: “He is strong yet! Yes, he is all right.”
So they talked, one after another. I thought to myself: “Say what you like, you will not make me think that you are twenty years old, or that you are handsome.”
But I kept silence.
Suddenly the governor, who was talking with the mayor in a corner, turned around, with his great chapeau awry, and looking at me, said:
“What do you intend to do with such a patriarch? You see very well that he can hardly stand.”
I was pleased, in spite of it all, and began to cough.
“Good, good!” said he, “you may go home; take care of your cold!”
I had taken four steps toward the door, when Frichard, the secretary of the mayoralty, called out:
“It is Moses! The Jew Moses, colonel, who has sent his two boys off to America! The oldest should be in the service.”
This wretch of a Frichard had a grudge against me, because we had the same business of selling old clothes under the market, and the country people almost always preferred buying of me; he had a mortal grudge against me, and that is why he began to inform against me.
The governor exclaimed at once: “Stop a minute! Ah ha, old fox! You send your boys to America to escape conscription! Very well! Give him his musket, cartridge-box, and sabre.”
Indignation against Frichard choked me. I would have spoken, but the wretch laughed and kept on writing at the desk; so I followed the gendarme Werner to a side room, which was filled with muskets, sabres, and cartridge-boxes.
Werner himself hung a cartridge-box crosswise on my back, and gave me a musket, saying:
“Go, Moses, and try always to answer to the call.”
I went down through the crowd so indignant that I heard no longer the shouts of laughter from the rabble.
On reaching home I told Sorlé what had happened. She was very pale as she listened. After a moment, she said: “This Frichard is the enemy of our race; he is an enemy of Israel. I know it; he detests us! But just now, Moses, do not say a word; do not let him see that you are angry; it would please him too much. By and by you can have your revenge! You will have a chance. And if not yourself, your children, your grandchildren; they shall all know what this wretch has done to their grandfather—they shall know it!”
She clinched her hand, and little Sâfel listened.
This was all the comfort she could give me. I thought as she did, but I was so angry that I would have given half my fortune to ruin the wretch. All that day, and in the night, too, I exclaimed more than twenty times:
“Ah, the scoundrel!—I was going—they had said to me, ‘You may go!’—He is the cause of all my misery!”
You cannot imagine, Fritz, how I have always hated that man. Never have my wife and I forgotten the harm he did us—never shall my children forget it.
CHAPTER V
FATHER MOSES RECEIVES WELCOME NEWS
The next day we must answer to the call before the mayoralty. All the children in town surrounded us and whistled. Fortunately, the blindages of the Place d’Armes were not finished, so that we went to learn our exercises in the large court of the college, near the chemin de ronde at the corner of the powder-house. As the pupils had been dismissed for some time, the place was at liberty.
Imagine to yourself this large court filled with citizens in bonnets, coats, cloaks, vests, and breeches, obliged to obey the orders of their former tinkers, chimney-sweeps, sta
ble-boys, now turned into corporals, sergeants, and sergeant-majors. Imagine these peaceable men, in fours, in sixes, in tens, stretching out their legs in concert, and marching to the step, “One—two! One—two! Halt! Steady!” while others, marching backward, frowning, called out insolently: “Moses, dress thy shoulders!” “Moses, bring thy nose into line!” “Attention, Moses! Carry arms! Ah, old shoe, thou’lt never be good for anything! Can any one be so stupid at his age? Look—just look! Thunder! Canst thou not do that? One—two! What an old blockhead! Come, begin again! Carry arms!”
This is the way my own cobbler, Monborne, ordered me about. I believe he would have beaten me if it had not been for Captain Vigneron.
All the rest treated their old patrons in the same way. You would have said that it had always been so—that they had always been sergeants and we had always been soldiers. I heaped up gall enough against this rabble to last fifty years.
They in fine were the masters! And the only time that I remember ever to have struck my own son, Sâfel, this Monborne was the cause of it. All the children climbed upon the wall of the chemin de ronde to look at us and laugh at us. On looking up, I saw Sâfel among them, and made a sign of displeasure with my finger. He went down at once; but at the close of the exercise, when we were ordered to break ranks before the town-house, I was seized with anger as I saw him coming toward me, and I gave him two good boxes on the ear, and said: “Go—hiss and mock at your father, like Shem, instead of bringing a garment to cover his nakedness—go!”
He wept bitterly, and in this state I went home. Sorlé seeing me come in looking very pale, and the little one following me at a distance, sobbing, came down at once to the door, and asked what was the matter. I told her how angry I was, and went upstairs.
Sorlé reproved Sâfel still more severely, and he came and begged my pardon. I granted it with all my heart, as you may suppose. But when I thought that the exercises were to be repeated every day, I would gladly have abandoned everything if I could possibly have taken with me my house and wares.
Yes, the worst thing I know of is to be ordered about by bullies who cannot restrain themselves when chance sets them up for a moment, and who are not capable of receiving the idea that in this life everybody has his turn.