Martyrs of Science

by S. Henry Berthoud

  “Diane was only sixteen and, although she was one of the prettiest girls in Rouen, thanks to the way her mother had brought her up, she wasn’t a coquette. Her greatest joys were going to hear mass on Sunday and playing battledore and shuttlecock with one of her father’s apprentices. The latter, the poor son of a peasant, used to being harshly treated by the other apprentices, nevertheless gave evidence on all occasions of a intelligence that Maître Daupats didn’t take long to notice.

  “The apothecary tried him out. Satisfied with the manner in which Salomon de Caus passed the various tests to which he was subjected, he appointed him his senor apprentice and gave him full authority over those who had previously crushed him under their domination.

  “The young man didn’t abuse that power, not subjecting the two fellows to the vexations that they had heaped on him, and ended up being almost forgiven for the favor he had enjoyed.

  “That favor, I can tell you, wasn’t limited to concocting, under his master’s supervision, the complicated potions and medicaments of which medicine made lavish use in those days. Madame Daupats treated him benevolently, and Diane found that no one knew how to handle a racket and launch a shuttlecock like Salomon. Gradually, the apothecary and his wife became accustomed to regarding the young man as a member of the family. So, when they saw him gradually falling into a profound sadness, he experienced a veritable distress. Maître Daupats had recourse to all the elixirs most likely to triumph over that melancholy, which he attributed to peccant humors, and Madame Gertrude exhausted all her ruses and all her womanly perspicacity trying the penetrate the reason for that mysterious chagrin. The apothecary’s drugs only served to render the invalid’s complexion even paler, and the good woman’s inquisition only drove Salomon into an even more absolute reserve.

  “One morning, Salomon went to find his master and declared, stammering all the while, that it was his intention to leave Rouen and go seek his fortune in Paris. Maître Daupats looked at him with the cold and bitter gaze that the presence and bad behavior of an ingrate excites.

  “‘You’re free to go whenever you please,’ he replied to Salomon’s request.

  “Salomon wiped away a tear and went out without saying another word.

  “When the rest of the household learned about the departure of everyone’s favorite apprentice, everyone became emotional and shared Maître Daupats’ sentiments regarding an apprentice who, with no apparent reason and for the hazardous lure of a risky fortune, was leaving the people who had treated and loved him like their own child.

  “He supported the mute reproaches of the wounded family without trying to justify himself and without going back on his determination.

  “However, Maître Daupats, ordinarily so just, began grumbling at his apprentices without any reason; Madame Gertrude let the roast burn that a maidservant was cooking under her direction; and finally, Diane wept and hid her tears by pretending to read prayers in her Book of Hours.

  “When evening arrived in the desolate household, Madame Gertrude, going along the corridor where the apprentices’ bedrooms were, heard sobs coming from one of the rooms and pricked up her ears. It was Salomon who as crying.

  “Moved to pity, she opened the door and found the apprentice giving evidence of the most violent despair. At the sight of Madame Gertrude, he tried to suppress his dolor, but he couldn’t do it, and his tears flowed in even greater abundance

  “‘My child,’ she said. ‘if you’re regretting a moment of error, it’s not necessary for a false shame to prevent you from going back on a resolution you regret. Youth merits indulgence, and we’re ready to forget a foolish thought, quite natural at your age.’

  “‘I don’t merit the happiness that you’ve heaped upon me,’ he said. ‘I have to go. By going, I’m giving you proof of my devotion and my gratitude.’

  “‘Then it’s necessary to go,’ replied Madame Gertrude, almost as emotional as the young man. ‘Adieu, Salomon; may God watch over you and may his bounty protect you.’

  “She left the apprentice and went to find her husband. She told him what Salomon had just said and added: ‘Do you understand now, my love, why your apprentice wants to go?’

  “‘I only understand one thing, which is that he’s being stupid as a result of the consciousness of his fault.’

  “‘I can see into all this more clearly than you,’ Madame Gertrude told him, ‘and if you let me take care of it, I don’t think that anyone will be weeping in the house any longer—for Salomon isn’t the only one who’s shedding tears.’

  “‘Eh? Who else is weeping, then?’

  “‘Our daughter Diane,’

  “The apothecary, absorbed by the preparation of the most difficult medicaments to concoct, raised his head and looked his wife in the face. Then he let slip one of those exclamations which cannot be translated, in any language, by any combination of the letters of the alphabet.

  “‘Do as you wish,’ he added, after a moment’s reflection, when he had recovered from his initial surprise.

  “Madame Gertrude threw her arms around her husband’s neck and went back up to Salomon’s room. He was busy packing in clothes into a haversack. ‘Salomon, she said, ‘you’ll have to postpone your journey for a week. My husband needs you here until then; you’ll be free thereafter to leave, if you persist in your resolution and still think you ought to quit Rouen.’

  “Salomon seemed both sad and glad to have to defer his departure. He took out the clothes and underclothes that he had put in his haversack and replaced the objects one by one, tidily, in the little cupboard of his room.

  “Afterwards, he went downstairs to the pharmacy and resumed his customary station.”

  At this point, Jean interrupted his story and pointed at the bottle. I poured out everything it still contained for him; he sighed on seeing it empty, put his glass to his lips and slowly drank the foam-crowned wine. He drank it to the last drop, clicked his tongue against his palate in order to savor the aroma better, sighed again, and looked at me.

  Jean looked once more at the emptiness of his glass, started to smile with the disdainful irony of a fashionable individual deigning to sit down at a poorly-served bourgeois table, and shrugged his shoulders slightly. Then, crossing his legs and moving closer to the fire, almost all of whose heat he appropriately casually for himself.

  “Where the Devil was I up to?” he asked me, in a cavalier manner. “Oh, I remember now.

  “I have no need to tell you what thoughts of every nature assailed and preoccupied Salomon during the rest of the day and that night. The next morning, the old apothecary summoned his apprentice and, after having carefully closed the door of his laboratory, so that no one could hear what he was about to say, he murmured in a sacredly audible voice: ‘Salomon, a great misfortune has struck me. In the desire to increase my fortune considerably, I chartered a ship to go to the Indies to fetch a cargo of medicinal plants. Not only was all my fortune engaged in the enterprise, but I had to resort to loans. Well, the ship, on its return journey, has just sunk off the coast of Normandy; my ruination is complete; there’s no more bread for my old age. As soon as my misfortune become known, my creditors will have me thrown into prison. It’s not my own fate that I deplore; my imprudence has merited it—but what will become of my wife and my daughter?’

  “Salomon looked at the old chemist with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. The old man hid his face in his hands and seemed to be shedding bitter tears. ‘Master,’ he replied, then, ‘I’m only a poor apprentice who possesses nothing in the world. An interior voice, however, tells me that I shall be able to protect your wife and daughter against adversity. Let me make a confession that I had resolved to hide from you by my departure. I love Diane. Without the fatal blow that has struck you, the secret would never have escaped from my heart. Let me marry Diane.’

  “‘Alas, my friend, your generosity is deceiving you; you have no idea what suffering poverty brings to the father of a family. My boy, when people make fu
n of you, and laugh in your face, one bears those blows cheerfully, to which one can riposte with insouciance and courage—but one cannot be insouciant regarding the dolors of a wife and child! Don’t waste your youth and your future in such an existence.’

  “‘I’m young and I feel strong,” cried Salomon, enthusiastically. ‘I’ll be able to conquer my wife a fortune in exchange for the one that fate has stolen from her,’

  “The old man reflected for a few moments. ‘Your confidence in the future has won me over,’ he said. ‘Become my daughter’s husband. A month will doubtless go by before anyone learns of my ruination; let’s take advantage of it to complete your marriage; that space of time will also permit me to arrange my affairs in such a way as to be able to leave you my pharmacy. Undoubtedly it will be shackled by enormous mortgages that will absorb almost all the profits, but at least you won’t remain in the grip of adversity and without arms with which the combat it.’

  “He held out his hand to Salomon, who raised it respectfully to his lips. At the same moment, Madame Gertrude and Diane came into the laboratory. ‘Daughter,’ said the apothecary, ‘I’ve just betrothed you to my apprentice Salomon de Caus.’

  “Diane’s charming face was covered by a blush; she lowered her eyes and made no reply. Madame Gertrude took her daughter’s hand and placed it in that of the happy apprentice.

  “He fell at the knees of his promised beauty. ‘Won’t you,’ he asked, in a voice trembling with emotion, ‘ratify my happiness with a word, or a sign?’

  “She ran to take refuge in her mother’s arms with a delicious shame. As Salomon seemed sad and anxious, she detached the blessed rosary that she wore suspended from her waist and slipped it into her mother’s hand. Madame Gertrude took it to Salomon; Salomon would not have exchanged his happiness for that of the angels.

  “He was, moreover, like all men whose foreheads are marked by the ardent seal true love in their youth, a serious fellow of great intelligence, who felt called to success by a superior organization, and full of energy. In making the resolution to marry a poor wife, he had not hidden the extent and the consequences of such an engagement from himself. He therefore set about studying the resources that he might create and organizing the means of remaining victorious in the struggle that he was about to undertake against fate. His passion for Diane raised him above all difficulties, and he was already glimpsing in the distance the fortune that was holding out a golden crown to him.

  Meanwhile, the preparations for the marriage were made in the house as if nothing had changed in Maître Daupats’ situation. Everyone in Rouen was astonished that the rich apothecary was giving his daughter to the son of a peasant with no money, when the most eligible suitors had offered themselves for Diane. A thousand suppositions were already being made, such as are always prodigal among townsfolk, especially the women, and even ladies of the highest rank.

  “In spite of the respect he had for Madame Gertrude and her husband, Salomon could not help being secretly critical of their imprudent conduct; his bride’s rich trousseau, the wedding feast that was to bring together a hundred guests, among the richest and most highly-reputed people in the town, seemed to him to be veritable extravagances. He did not understand how anyone could throw money around with open hands when conscious of imminent ruin and the scandal that would soon be produced by the public divulgence of such terrible news. He was afflicted by it, and tried on more than one occasion to talk about it to his father-in-law and Madame Gertrude.

  “They were both obstinate in changing the topic of conversation, and continued in their prodigality.

  “The exaggeration of a fault rarely fails to throw those who suffer from it into a contrary excess. A chatterbox renders people silent, a prodigal drives them to avarice. That is exactly what happened to Salomon. He started secretly organizing his future household, and did so with an economy so prudent as to be almost excessive. He had recourse to second-hand dealers to buy furniture, and thought he was concluding an excellent bargain when he paid a few sous less than it would have cost from the manufacturer for an object that had already been used. So, morning and evening, he roamed the poorest streets, hunting high and low for old items and haggling over every farthing.

  “One day, Salomon perceived at the door of a coppersmith a copper cooking-pot in good condition, the dimensions of which seemed to him to be appropriate for a young household. An old woman was holding it in her hands and examining it with minute attention. She felt it all over—inside, outside and round the sides—caused the copper to ring, and made sure that nothing impeded the movement of the lid, after which she offered the merchant a price.

  “The merchant raised his eyes to the heavens as if he had heard a blasphemy uttered, swore that he would be losing more than half, and refused the old woman’s proposition.

  “The latter persisted, and made concessions.

  “The coppersmith, for his part, dropped his price slightly, and was perhaps about to concede when he saw Salomon darting one of those covetous glances at the cooking-pot which merchants hardly ever misinterpret. Immediately, he became more demanding than ever; acrimony entered into the bargaining; the old woman moved away, discontented and as if to give up the game.

  “Immediately, Salomon, who thought that a good thing, ran up to the merchant, gave him the last price that the latter had demanded from the woman, and was just about to carry off his acquisition when the old woman came back.

  “On seeing the cooking-pot in someone else’s hands she went pale with anger, and her eyes seemed to swell up with venom, like those of a poisonous animal. ‘That cooking-pot’s mine,’ she said, in a hoarse and menacing voice. ‘I was haggling over the price before you.’

  “‘Yes, but I bought it before you,’ Salomon replied, sarcastically, irritated by his adversary’s brutal tone.

  “‘I want it! I must have that cooking-pot!’ she repeated, reaching for the object of her covetousness with two long stiff hands, which reminded Salomon involuntarily of the claws into Medieval sculptors formed the hands of the evil angel.

  “Salomon retreated automatically, put the cooking-pot under his arm, covered it with his cloak and carried it away.

  “The old woman followed him.

  “‘That cooking-pot is very fine,’ she said, in a low voice, croaking like a crow tearing at a cadaver, ‘but it isn’t the first time I’ve seen it. Did you know that, my handsome young man?’

  “Salomon made no reply.

  “‘I knew it; I saw it often in the hands of Catherine Lestoquoy. Catherine placed it at a crossroads at eleven o’clock at night, on pieces of wood that she’d taken from the remains of a coffin in a cemetery To set the wood alight she went to fetch fire from the lanterns on the gibbet, after which the flames emerged long and devouring—except that instead of raising their ardent tongues toward the heavens, they licked the earth and seemed to want to enter into it. You’ve got a fine cooking-pot there, my handsome young man.

  “‘When the wood was ablaze, Catherine threw water into it taken from a marsh covered with fire-follets, in which the corpse of an unbaptized child had been buried. After which she added many other things, which I won’t name for you, profane, but of which I know the mysterious recipe. You’ve got a fine cooking-pot there, young man!

  “Then plaintive voices came out of the cooking-pot, and other voices replied to them from the bosom of the earth, the gibbet and the cemetery itself. The moon was hidden by a bloody cloud, the signpost at the crossroads trembled on its stone base and phantoms flew through the air. You’ve got a fine cooking-pot there, young man!

  “‘Joyfully, Catherine took off one of her shoes, took a dead man’s bone and stirred the water in the cooking-pot. Midnight sounded then, and a circle of mysterious beings came to dance around the fire. When Catherine shouted three times: To me, Master, to me! they clapped their hands and stamped their feet, and the they all went away; everything disappeared; silence fell. You’ve got a fine cooking-pot there, young man!
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  “‘A fine cooking-pot for a witch, for an old witch like me! It would have served me until the day when, put on a pyre like my Mistress Catherine Lestoquoy, I would have called Satan to my aid, and demanded a good place in Hell, among the Devils and their wives. You’ve got a fine cooking-pot there, young man!

  “But for a fiancé, for a Christian who dreams of dying with his hands together on a bed with his eyes turned to Heaven, it’s a fatal talisman. It summons demons, it attracts misfortune, it casts fatality everywhere. You’ll weep more than once for possessing it; you’ll struggle more than once under the vengeance of the witch from whom you’ve stolen it. You’ve got a fine cooking-pot there, young man!’

  “Salomon hastened his steps in order to get away from the woman’s pursuit and threats. The more he hurried, the more she increased her pace; nothing could free the apprentice from that sinister and pitiless murmur, every word of which struck his heart with an invisible whip.

  “Several times, he felt that he was ready to hurl the cooking-pot she was claiming with such threats at the old woman. A sentiment of false shame always prevented him. He would have blushed to yield like that to puerile threats, unworthy of a man, a Christian and a scientist.

  “Still talking, still cursing, the witch only stopped outside the apothecary’s house. When she saw Salomon, with the cooking-pot, go through the low-set door ornamented with sculptures, she threw back the ragged cloak she was wearing, raised her arms to the sky, lowered them toward the ground, and seemed to trace a mysterious circle with one of her fingers. Salomon, under the influence of a kind of fascination, watched her through the window. He saw the hideous creature devoted herself to bizarre gestures, appealing by cabalistic signs to invisible beings and fulfilling all the reproved rites of a conjuration.

  “Then she put her hands around her mouth, and shouted with all the might of her shrill and piercing voice: ‘You’ve got a very fine cooking-pot there, young man!’