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

by Émile Erckmann

  At last, fatigue obliged us to enter an enclosure. It was very cold for the season; but we had become accustomed to our wretchedness, and we slept against a wall, upon a bit of straw matting, just as in our own beds. Rising in the morning at the dawn of day, we found ourselves covered with hoar-frost, and George, straining his eyes in the distance, asked: “Do you know that place down there, Christian?”

  I looked.

  “Why, it is Château-Salins!”

  Ah! now all was well. At Château-Salins lived an old cousin, Desjardins, the first dyer in the country: Desjardins’s grandfather and ours had married sisters before the Revolution. He was a Lutheran, and even a Calvinist; we were Catholics; but nevertheless, we knew each other, and were fond of each other, as very near relations.

  CHAPTER X

  We arrived at the door of Jacques Desjardins about seven in the morning; he had just got up, and was taking coffee with his wife and his children.

  At the first sight of us, Desjardins stood with his mouth wide open, and his wife and his children were preparing for flight, or to call for help; but when I said: “Good-morning, cousin; it is we,” Desjardins cried: “Good heavens! it is Christian and George Weber! What has happened?”

  “Yes, it is we, indeed, cousin,” said George. “See what a condition the Prussians have brought us to.”

  “The Prussians! Ah, the brigands!” said Desjardins. “Lise, send to the butcher for some chops—get some wine up. Ah! my poor cousins. I think you must want to change your clothes, too.”

  “Yes,” said George; “and to shave.”

  “Well, come then. While your breakfast is getting ready, you will change your shirts and clothes. You will put on mine, until yours have been washed. Good gracious! is it possible?”

  He took us into a beautiful room upstairs; he opened the linen drawers. Cousin Lise was coming to fill our basins with clean warm water.

  “Put on my shoes and stockings, too,” said Desjardins. “Here are my razors. Make yourselves comfortable. Ah! those thieves and rogues of Germans! Did they, indeed, treat you in that way—a mayor, and a person of such respectability?”

  Then she left the room, and we began to throw off our clothes. The sight of our stockings, our neckerchiefs, and our shirts, made this kind old Father Desjardins groan; for he was one of the best of men. He could hardly believe his eyes, and said: “My poor cousins! you have had a dreadful bad time.”

  Our first business was to get a good wash. The nice, clean white shirts were already spread open upon the bed; and I cannot tell you what pleasure I experienced in feeling this nice fresh linen next to my skin.

  After this I shaved, while George was recounting our misfortunes to our cousin, who interrupted him at every moment, crying: “What! what! Did the barbarous creatures carry their cruelty to such a point? Then they are bandits indeed! Never has the like been seen!”

  I wiped myself dry and comfortable, even to behind the ears, and passed the razor to George. Our Cousin Desjardins lent me a pair of stockings, trousers, a blouse, and nice dry shoes. We were about the same height, and never had I been more comfortable in my life.

  Then George dressed; and just as we were finishing, the servant came tapping at the door, to announce breakfast; and we came down full of grateful feelings.

  Cousin Lise and the children were waiting to embrace us; for they did not dare come near us before, and now they were anxious to excuse themselves for having received us so badly. But it was natural enough, and we did not feel hurt.

  I need not tell you with what appetites we breakfasted. George began again the story of our misfortunes for Cousin Lise and the children, who were listening with eyes wide open with amazement, and cried: “Is it really possible? How much you must have suffered, and how happy you must be now you are safe!”

  When we had finished she told us that all this was the doing of the Jesuits; that those people had sent abroad evil reports of the Protestants, and that now, the Prussians having proved victorious, they were preaching against Gambetta and Garibaldi. She told us that it was those people who had excited the Emperor to declare war, supposing that their Society would have nothing to lose and everything to gain by it; that if the French should conquer, they would crush the Lutherans; and that if the French lost, Chambord would be set up again, to restore to the Pope the ancient patrimony of St. Peter.

  Thus spoke Cousin Lise, an elderly woman with hair turning gray, and who took a pleasure in discussing these subjects.

  But George, after emptying his glass, answered that the true cause of all our misfortunes was the army; that that army was not the army of the nation, but of the Emperor, who bestowed rank, honors, pensions, and grants of money; that the interests of such an army is ever opposed to that of the country and the people, because the army wants war, to get promotion; but the people want peace, to work, bring up their children, and gain a livelihood.

  Cousin Desjardins agreed with him; and when coffee was brought, Lise and her children went out. Pipes were lighted, and our cousin told us the latest news.

  Desjardins had many books, like most of the Protestants, and received newspapers from all quarters; first of all, the Indépendance Belge, then papers from Cologne, Frankfort, Berne in Switzerland, Geneva, and elsewhere. At his age—having a son fifty years old—he did not trouble himself much now about dyeing or business, and spent his time in reading.

  He was therefore a better-informed man than we were, and one in whom we could place full confidence. It was from him that we heard of the splendid defence of Chateaudun, the landing of Garibaldi at Marseilles, and his appointment as General of the Army of the Vosges, the march of the Bavarians under Von der Tann upon the Loire, and the arrival of the francs-tireurs in our mountains, in the direction of Epinal and Raon-l’Etape. He read to us that fine proclamation of Gambetta to the French people, setting forth the high purpose of the inhabitants of Paris, their inexhaustible means of defence, the organization of the citizens as National Guards, the union and harmony of all in this moment of difficulty, and the victualling of the city for several months, which would raise the spirit of the provinces and give them courage to follow so noble an example.

  I still remember this passage, which stirred me like a trumpet:

  “Citizens of the departments, this position of affairs imposes important duties upon you. The first of all is to allow no other occupation whatever to divert your attention from the war—from a struggle to the very last extremity; the second is, until peace shall be made, loyally to accept the Republican power, which has sprung equally from necessity and from right principle. You must have but one thought: to rescue France from the abyss into which it has been plunged by the Empire. There is no want of men: all that is wanting is determination, decision, and continuity in the execution of plans; what we have lost by the disgraceful capitulation of Sedan is arms. The whole of the resources of our nation had been directed upon Sedan, Metz, and Strasbourg; and we might justly conclude that by one final and guilty plot, the author of all our disasters had schemed, in falling, to deprive us of all means of repairing the ruin he had caused!”

  “He is quite capable,” cried George. “Yes, I am sure the honest man contrived to leave himself a back door into Prussia.”

  Cousin Desjardins continued: “At this moment, thanks to the extraordinary exertions of patriotic men, arrangements have been concluded, the end and object of which is to draw to ourselves all the disposable muskets in all the markets of the globe. The difficulty of effecting this negotiation was very serious: it is now overcome. With regard to equipments and clothing, manufactories and workshops will be multiplied, and materials laid under requisition wherever needed; neither hands nor zeal on the part of workers are wanting, nor will money be lacking. All our immense resources must be called into play, the lethargy of the rural districts shaken into activity, partisan warfare spread in all directions. Let us, therefore, rise as one man, and suffer death rather than submit to the disgrace of a partition of our c
ountry.”

  The enthusiasm of George rose with every sentence.

  “Good! good!” cried he, “this is speaking to some purpose. Once give the impulse, and the object will soon be gained. Our youths will take up arms en masse. One victory, only one, and all France would rise; we should fall like hail on the backs of the scoundrels; they would be looked out for at every corner in the woods: not a man would live to get back again!”

  Cousin Desjardins, having folded up his papers, said nothing; I, too, was full of my own thoughts.

  “And you, cousin,” said I, “have you any confidence?”

  And only after a minute’s silence, and having taken a good pinch of snuff, to waken up his ideas—for he took snuff, like all the old folks, but did not smoke; after a minute he said: “No, Christian, I have no hope; but it is not the Germans that I fear: they have taken Strasbourg; after a time they will have Metz by starvation—that is already settled. They are besieging Verdun; Soissons has just fallen into their hands; they have invested Paris; they are advancing upon Orleans. Well, in spite of all this, it is not the Germans that I fear.”

  “Who then?” asked George.

  Without noticing the question, he continued: “France is so strong, so brave, so rich, so intelligent, that in a few months she could have flung these barbarians across the Rhine again; but what alarms me, is the enemies in our midst.”

  “Nobody is moving,” said I.

  “It is just because no one is moving that the Germans are on the Loire,” said he, fixing his clear, gray eyes upon me. “If the question was to restore Chambord, Ferdinand Philippe, or even Bonaparte IV., you would see all the old councillors-general, all the councillors of the arrondissements, all the old préfets, sous-préfets, magistrates, police inspectors, receivers of taxes, comptrollers, gardes généraux, mayors, and deputy mayors in the field. No matter which of the three, for the principal object is to have a Monsieur who has crosses, promotions, pensions, and perquisites to give: whichever of the lot, it is all the same to them; they only want just one such man! These people would move heaven and earth for their man: they would put the peasants into lines by thousands, they would sing the Marseillaise, they would shout the ‘country is in danger!’ And the bishops, the priests, the curés, the vicars, would preach the holy war; France would drive the Prussians to the farthest corner of Prussia; arms, munitions of war, stores would be found for every day! But as it is a Republic, and as the Republic demands the separation of Church and State, free education, compulsory military service; as it declares that all must contribute to the public good, that a rich fool is not a better man than a poor but able man; and because, on this principle, merit would be everything, and intrigues and knavery go to the wall, they had rather see France dismembered than consent to a Republic! What would become of the good places of the senators, the peers of France, prefects, chamberlains, squires, receivers-general, stewards, marshals, influential deputies, and bishops under a Republic? They would all be put into one basket: and they don’t want that. They would rather the King of Prussia than the Republic, if the King of Prussia would only engage to keep all the good places for them. Yes, in their eyes la patrie means lucrative places and pensions. It is not the first time that the Germans have been relied upon to restore order in France. Marie Antoinette had already ceded Alsace to Austria, to have her antechambers filled again with smooth-faced, obsequious old servitors. Passing events bring back those times again. Formerly the hunters after pensions, the egotists who wanted to snap up everything and leave nothing for the people, were called nobles; now it is the bourgeois trained by the Jesuits. But at that time the chiefs of the Republic were resolved upon the triumph of justice. They did not leave the functionaries and the generals of Louis XVI. at the head of the administrations and of the armies. These great patriots had common-sense. They established Republican municipalities in every commune; they gave the command of our armies to Republican generals; they restrained the reactionnaires; and having cleared our territory of Germans, they judged those who had called them in; and France was saved.

  “The same thing would happen to-day, in spite of all the preparations of Germany, in spite of the treason of Bonaparte, who, seeing his dynasty sacrificed by his own incapacity, gave up our last army at Sedan to stay the victory of the Republic.

  “Yes, notwithstanding the egotism of this unhappy man, we might yet beat the Germans, if the Royalists were not at the head of our affairs; but they are everywhere. In Paris, they command the National Guard and the army; in the provinces, they are forming those famous councils-general, whence have been drawn the juries to acquit Pierre Bonaparte, and who would without shame sentence Gambetta to death if they were assembled to try him. Instead of helping this brave man, this good patriot, to save France, they will obstruct him; they will run sticks between the spokes of his wheels; they will hinder him from getting the necessary levies; they will clamp the enthusiasm of the people. See what all these German papers say: they cannot sufficiently abuse Gambetta, who is defending his country, nor sufficiently flatter the councils-general named under the Empire.”

  “But, then,” said George, “must we surrender?”

  “No,” replied Desjardins. “Although we are sure of being vanquished, we must show that we are still the old race: that its roots are not dead, and that the tree will sprout again. If we had reeled and fallen under the blow of Sedan, the contempt of Europe and of the whole world would have covered us forever. The nation has risen since. It seems incredible. Without armies, or guns, or muskets, or victuals, or military stores, betrayed, surprised, overrun in all directions, this nation has risen again! It defends itself! One brave man has been found sufficient to raise its courage. What other nation would have done as much? I am, therefore, of opinion that the struggle must be maintained to the end, that the Germans may be made, as it were, ashamed of their victory. They have been fifty years preparing; they have hidden themselves from us, to spy upon us in time of peace; they have dissembled their hatred; they have brought their whole power to bear upon us; they have studied the question under every aspect; they threw against us, at the opening of the campaign, 600,000 men against 220,000; they are going to attack our raw conscripts with their best troops; they will be five and six against one; they will call Russia to their help if they want it; and then they will proclaim, ‘We are the conquerors!’ They will not be ashamed to say, ‘We have vanquished France. Now it is we who are La Grande Nation!’”

  “All that,” said George, “is possible. But in the meantime, we may win a battle; and, if we gain a victory, things will be different. We shall gain fresh courage, and the Landwehr who are sent against us—almost all fathers of families—will ask no better than to return home.”

  “The Landwehr have not a word to say,” replied Desjardins: “they are not consulted; those fellows march where they are ordered; they have long been subject to military discipline. It is a machine: nothing but a machine; but a machine of crushing weight.”

  Then Cousin Desjardins told us that, having travelled long in Germany before and after 1848, on business, he had seen how these people detested us: that they envied us; that we were an offence to them; that hatred of the French was taught in their schools; that they thought themselves our superiors, on account of their religion, which is simple and natural; while ours, with all its ceremonies, its Latin chants, its tapers and its tinsel, induced them to look upon us as an inferior race, like the negroes, who are only fond of red, and hang rings in their noses; that, especially, they deemed their women more virtuous and more worthy of respect than ours: this they attribute also to their superior religion, which keeps them at home, while ours pass their time in all sorts of ceremonies, and neglect their first duties.

  Desjardins had even had a serious dispute upon this subject with a school-master, being unable to hear an open avowal of such an opinion of Frenchwomen; amongst whom we number Jeanne d’Arc and other heroines, whose grandeur of character German women are unable to comprehen
d.

  He told us that, from this point of view, the Germans, and especially the Prussians, considered us Alsacians and Lorrainers as exiles from fatherland, and unfortunate in being under the dominion of a debased race kept in ignorance by the priests.

  George, on hearing this, became furious, and cried that we had more intelligence and more sense than all the Germans put together.

  “Yes, I believe so, too,” replied Cousin Desjardins; “only we ought to use it; we ought to set up schools everywhere; the lowest Frenchman should be able to read and write our own language; and this is exactly what the lovers of good places don’t wish for. If the people had been educated, we should have known what was going on upon the other side of the Rhine; we should have had national armies, able generals, a watchful commissariat, a sound organization, enlightened and conscientious deputies; we should have had all that we are now wanting; we should not have placed the power of making war or peace in the hands of an imbecile; we should not have stupidly attacked the Germans, and the Germans, seeing us ready to receive them, would have been careful not to attack us. All our defeats, all our divisions, our internal troubles, our revolutions, our battles and massacres in the streets; the transportations, the hatred between classes—all this comes of ignorance; and this abominable ignorance is the doing of the selfish statesmen who have governed us for seventy years. Good sense, justice, and patriotism would lead them to inform the people; they preferred an alliance with the Jesuits to degrade the people; can any treason be worse?”

  George, who had long entertained the same view, had nothing to add; but he still argued that we might gain a victory, and that then we should be saved.