"Pray, come in, sir!" cried
Jacquotte. "A pretty time the
gentlemen have been waiting for
you! It is always the way! You
always manage to spoil the dinner
for me whenever it ought to be
particularly good. Everything
is cooked to death by this time----"
"Oh! well, here we are," answered
Benassis with a smile.
The two horsemen dismounted,
and went off to the salon, where
the guests invited by the doctor
were assembled.
"Gentlemen," he said taking
Genestas by the hand, "I have
the honor of introducing you
to M. Bluteau, captain of a regiment
of cavalry stationed at Grenoble--an
old soldier, who has promised
me that he will stay among us
for a little while."
Then, turning to Genestas,
he presented to him a tall, thin,
gray- haired man, dressed in
black.
"This gentleman," said Benassis, "is
M. Dufau, the justice of the
peace of whom I have already
spoken to you, and who has so
largely contributed to the prosperity
of the Commune." Then he led
his guest up to a pale, slight
young man of middle height, who
wore spectacles, and was also
dressed in black. "And this is
M. Tonnelet," he went on, "M.
Gravier's son-in-law, and the
first notary who came to the
village."
The doctor next turned to a
stout man, who seemed to belong
half to the peasant, half to
the middle class, the owner of
a rough-pimpled but good-humored
countenance.
"This is my worthy colleague
M. Cambon," he went on, the timber-
merchant, to whom I owe the confidence
and good-will of the people here.
He was one of the promoters of
the road which you have admired.
I have no need to tell you the
profession of this gentleman," Benassis
added, turning to the curate. "Here
is a man whom no one can help
loving."
There was an irresistible attraction
in the moral beauty expressed
by the cure's countenance, which
engrossed Genestas' attention.
Yet a certain harshness and austerity
of outline might make M. Janvier's
face seem unpleasing at a first
glance. His attitude, and his
slight, emaciated frame, showed
that he was far from strong physically,
but the unchanging serenity of
his face bore witness to the
profound inward peace of heart.
Heaven seemed to be reflected
in his eyes, and the inextinguishable
fervor of charity which glowed
in his heart appeared to shine
from them. The gestures that
he made but rarely were simple
and natural, his appeared to
be a quiet and retiring nature,
and there was a modesty and simplicity
like that of a young girl about
his actions. At first sight he
inspired respect and a vague
desire to be admitted to his
friendship.
"Ah! M. le Maire," he
said, bending as though to
escape from
Benassis' eulogium.
Something in the cure's tones
brought a thrill to Genestas'
heart, and the two insignificant
words uttered by this stranger
priest plunged him into musings
that were almost devout.
"Gentlemen," said Jacquotte,
who came into the middle of the
room, and there took her stand,
with her hands on her hips, "the
soup is on the table."
Invited by Benassis, who summoned
each in turn so as to avoid questions
of precedence, the doctor's five
guests went into the dining-room;
and after the cure, in low and
quiet tones, had repeated a Benedicite,
they took their places at table.
The cloth that covered the table
was of that peculiar kind of
damask linen invented in the
time of Henry IV. by the brothers
Graindorge, the skilful weavers,
who gave their name to the heavy
fabric so well known to housekeepers.
The linen was of dazzling whiteness,
and fragrant with the scent of
the thyme that Jacquotte always
put into her wash-tubs. The dinner
service was of white porcelain,
edged with blue, and was in perfect
order. The decanters were of
the old-fashioned octagonal kind
still in use in the provinces,
though they have disappeared
elsewhere. Grotesque figures
had been carved on the horn handles
of the knives. These relics of
ancient splendor, which, nevertheless,
looked almost new, seemed to
those who scrutinized them to
be in keeping with the kindly
and open- hearted nature of the
master of the house.
The lid of the soup-tureen
drew a momentary glance from
Genestas; he noticed that it
was surmounted by a group of
vegetables in high relief, skilfully
colored after the manner of Bernard
Palissy, the celebrated sixteenth
century craftsman.
There was no lack of character
about the group of men thus assembled.
The powerful heads of Genestas
and Benassis contrasted admirably
with M. Janvier's apostolic countenance;
and in the same fashion the elderly
faces of the justice of the peace
and the deputy-mayor brought
out the youthfulness of the notary.
Society seemed to be represented
by these various types. The expression
of each one indicated contentment
with himself and with the present,
and a faith in the future. M.
Tonnelet and M. Janvier, who
were still young, loved to make
forecasts of coming events, for
they felt that the future was
theirs; while the other guests
were fain rather to turn their
talk upon the past. All of them
faced the things of life seriously,
and their opinions seemed to
reflect a double tinge of soberness,
on the one hand, from the twilight
hues of well-nigh forgotten joys
that could never more be revived
for them; and, on the other,
from the gray dawn which gave
promise of a glorious day.
"You must have had a very tiring
day, sir?" said M. Cambon, addressing
the cure.
"Yes, sir," answered M. Janvier, "the
poor cretin and Pere Pelletier
were buried at different hours."
"Now we can pull down all the
hovels of the old village," Benassis
remarked to his deputy. "When
the space on which the houses
stand has been grubbed up, it
will mean at least another acre
of meadow land for us; and furthermore,
there will be a clear saving
to the Commune of the hundred
francs that it used to cost to
keep Chautard the cretin."
"For the next three years we
ought to lay out the hundred
francs in making a single-span
bridge to carry the lower road
over the main stream," said M.
Cambon. "The townsfolk and the
people down the valley have fallen
into the way of taking a short
cut across that patch of land
of Jean Francois Pastoureau's;
before they have done they will
cut it up in a way that will
do a lot of harm to that poor
fellow."
"I am sure that the money could
not be put to a better use," said
the justice of peace. "In my
opinion the abuse of the right
of way is one of the worst nuisances
in a country district. One-tenth
of the cases that come before
the court are caused by unfair
easement. The rights of property
are infringed in this way almost
with impunity in many and many
a commune. A respect for the
law and a respect for property
are ideas too often disregarded
in France, and it is most important
that they should be inculcated.
Many people think that there
is something dishonorable in
assisting the law to take its
course. 'Go and be hanged somewhere
else,' is a saying which seems
to be dictated by an unpraiseworthy
generosity of feeling; but at
the bottom it is nothing but
a hypocritical formula--a sort
of veil which we throw over our
own selfishness. Let us own to
it, we lack patriotism! The true
patriot is the citizen who is
so deeply impressed with a sense
of the importance of the laws
that he will see them carried
out even at his own cost and
inconvenience. If you let the
criminal go in peace, are you
not making yourself answerable
for the crimes he will commit?"
"It is all of a piece," said
Benassis. "If the mayors kept
their roads in better order,
there would not be so many footpaths.
And if the members of Municipal
Councils knew a little better,
they would uphold the small landowner
and the mayor when the two combine
to oppose the establishment of
unfair easements. The fact that
chateau, cottage, field, and
tree are all equally sacred would
then be brought home in every
way to the ignorant; they would
be made to understand that Right
is just the same in all cases,
whether the value of the property
in question be large or small.
But such salutary changes cannot
be brought about all at once.
They depend almost entirely on
the moral condition of the population,
which we can never completely
reform without the potent aid
of the cures. This remark does
not apply to you in any way,
M. Janvier."
"Nor do I take it to myself," laughed
the cure. "Is not my heart set
on bringing the teaching of the
Catholic religion to co-operate
with your plans of administration?
For instance, I have often tried,
in my pulpit discourses on theft,
to imbue the folk of this parish
with the very ideas of Right
to which you have just given
utterance. For truly, God does
not estimate theft by the value
of the thing stolen, He looks
at the thief. That has been the
gist of the parables which I
have tried to adapt to the comprehension
of my parishioners."
"You have succeeded, sir," said
Cambon. "I know the change you
have brought about in people's
ways of looking at things, for
I can compare the Commune as
it is now with the Commune as
it used to be. There are certainly
very few places where the laborers
are as careful as ours are about
keeping the time in their working
hours. The cattle are well looked
after; any damage that they do
is done by accident. There is
no pilfering in the woods, and
finally you have made our peasants
clearly understand that the leisure
of the rich is the reward of
a thrifty and hard-working life."
"Well, then," said Genestas, "you
ought to be pretty well pleased
with your infantry, M. le Cure."
"We cannot expect to find angels
anywhere here below, captain," answered
the priest. "Wherever there is
poverty, there is suffering too;
and suffering and poverty are
strong compelling forces which
have their abuses, just as power
has. When the peasants have a
couple of leagues to walk to
their work, and have to tramp
back wearily in the evening,
they perhaps see sportsmen taking
short cuts over ploughed land
and pasture so as to be back
to dinner a little sooner, and
is it to be supposed that they
will hesitate to follow the example?
And of those who in this way
beat out a footpath such as these
gentlemen have just been complaining
about, which are the real offenders,
the workers or the people who
are simply amusing themselves?
Both the rich and the poor give
us a great deal of trouble these
days. Faith, like power, ought
always to descend from the heights
above us, in heaven or on earth;
and certainly in our times the
upper classes have less faith
in them than the mass of the
people, who have God's promise
of heaven hereafter as a reward
for evils patiently endured.
With due submission to ecclesiastical
discipline, and deference to
the views of my superiors, I
think that for some time to come
we should be less exacting as
to questions of doctrine, and
rather endeavor to revive the
sentiment of religion in the
hearts of the intermediary classes,
who debate over the maxims of
Christianity instead of putting
them in practice. The philosophism
of the rich has set a fatal example
to the poor, and has brought
about intervals of too long duration
when men have faltered in their
allegiance to God. Such ascendency
as we have over our flocks to-day
depends entirely on our personal
influence with them; is it not
deplorable that the existence
of religious belief in a commune
should be dependent on the esteem
in which a single man is held?
When the preservative force of
Christianity permeating all classes
of society shall have put life
into the new order of things,
there will be an end of sterile
disputes about doctrine. The
cult of a religion is its form;
societies only exist by forms.
You have your standard, we have
the cross----"
"I should very much like to
know, sir," said Genestas, breaking
in upon M. Janvier, "why you
forbid these poor folk to dance
on Sunday?"
"We do not
quarrel with dancing in itself,
captain; it is forbidden
because it leads to immorality,
which troubles the peace of the
countryside and corrupts its
manners. Does not the attempt
to purify the spirit of the family
and to maintain the sanctity
of family ties strike at the
root of the evil?"
"Some irregularities are always
to be found in every district,
I know," said M. Tonnelet, "but
they very seldom occur among
us. Perhaps there are peasants
who remove their neighbor's landmark
without much scruple; or they
may cut a few osiers that belong
to some one else, if they happen
to want some; but these are mere
peccadilloes compared with the
wrongdoing that goes on among
a town population. Moreover,
the people in this valley seem
to me to be devoutly religious."
"Devout?" queried the cure
with a smile; "there is no fear
of fanaticism here."
"But," objected Cambon, "if
the people all went to mass every
morning, sir, and to confession
every week, how would the fields
be cultivated? And three priests
would hardly be enough."
"Work is prayer," said the
cure. "Doing one's duty brings
a knowledge of the religious
principles which are a vital
necessity to society."
"How about patriotism?" asked
Genestas.
"Patriotism can only inspire
a short-lived enthusiasm," the
curate answered gravely; "religion
gives it permanence. Patriotism
consists in a brief impulse of
forgetfulness of self and self-interest,
while Christianity is a complete
system of opposition to the depraved
tendencies of mankind."
"And yet, during
the wars undertaken by the
Revolution, patriotism----"
"Yes, we worked wonders at
the time of the Revolution," said
Benassis, interrupting Genestas; "but
only twenty years later, in 1814,
our patriotism was extinct; while,
in former times, a religious
impulse moved France and Europe
to fling themselves upon Asia
a dozen times in the course of
a century."
"Maybe it is easier for two
nations to come to terms when
the strife has arisen out of
some question of material interests," said
the justice of the peace; "while
wars undertaken with the idea
of supporting dogmas are bound
to be interminable, because the
object can never be clearly defined."
"Well, sir, you are not helping
any one to fish!" put in Jacquotte,
who had removed the soup with
Nicolle's assistance. Faithful
to her custom, Jacquotte herself
always brought in every dish
one after another, a plan which
had its drawbacks, for it compelled
gluttonous folk to over-eat themselves,
and the more abstemious, having
satisfied their hunger at an
early stage, were obliged to
leave the best part of the dinner
untouched.
"Gentlemen," said the cure,
with a glance at the justice
of the peace, "how can you allege
that religious wars have had
no definite aim? Religion in
olden times was such a powerful
binding force, that material
interests and religious questions
were inseparable. Every soldier,
therefore, knew quite well what
he was fighting for."
"If there has been so much
fighting about religion," said
Genestas, "God must have built
up the system very perfunctorily.
Should not a divine institution
impress men at once by the truth
that is in it?"
All the guests looked at the
cure.
"Gentlemen," said M. Janvier, "religion
is something that is felt and
that cannot be defined. We cannot
know the purpose of the Almighty;
we are no judges of the means
He employs."
"Then, according to you, we
are to believe in all your rigmaroles," said
Genestas, with the easy good-humor
of a soldier who has never given
a thought to these things.
"The Catholic
religion, better than any other,
resolves men's
doubts and fears; but even were
it otherwise, I might ask you
if you run any risks by believing
in its truths."
"None worth speaking of," answered
Genestas.
"Good! and
what risks do you not run by
not believing? But
let us talk of the worldly aspect
of the matter, which most appeals
to you. The finger of God is
visible in human affairs; see
how He directs them by the hand
of His vicar on earth. How much
men have lost by leaving the
path traced out for them by Christianity!
So few think of reading Church
history, that erroneous notions
deliberately sown among the people
lead them to condemn the Church;
yet the Church has been a pattern
of perfect government such as
men seek to establish to-day.
The principle of election made
it for a long while the great
political power. Except the Catholic
Church, there was no single religious
institution which was founded
upon liberty and equality. Everything
was ordered to this end. The
father-superior, the abbot, the
bishop, the general of an order,
and the pope were then chosen
conscientiously for their fitness
for the requirements of the Church.
They were the expression of its
intelligence, of the thinking
power of the Church, and blind
obedience was therefore their
due. I will say nothing of the
ways in which society has benefited
by that power which has created
modern nations and has inspired
so many poems, so much music,
so many cathedrals, statues,
and pictures. I will simply call
your attention to the fact that
your modern systems of popular
election, of two chambers, and
of juries all had their origin
in provincial and oecumenical
councils, and in the episcopate
and college of cardinals; but
there is this difference,--the
views of civilization held by
our present-day philosophy seem
to me to fade away before the
sublime and divine conception
of Catholic communion, the type
of a universal social communion
brought about by the word and
the fact that are combined in
religious dogma. It would be
very difficult for any modern
political system, however perfect
people may think it, to work
once more such miracles as were
wrought in those ages when the
Church as the stay and support
of the human intellect."
"Why?" asked
Genestas.
"Because, in
the first place, if the principle
of election
is to be the basis of a system,
absolute equality among the electors
is a first requirement; they
ought to be 'equal quantities,'
things which modern politics
will never bring about. Then,
great social changes can only
be effected by means of some
common sentiment so powerful
that it brings men into concerted
action, while latter-day philosophism
has discovered that law is based
upon personal interest, which
keeps men apart. Men full of
the generous spirit that watches
with tender care over the trampled
rights of the suffering poor,
were more often found among the
nations of past ages than in
our generation. The priesthood,
also, which sprang from the middle
classes, resisted material forces
and stood between the people
and their enemies. But the territorial
possessions of the Church and
her temporal power, which seemingly
made her position yet stronger,
ended by crippling and weakening
her action. As a matter of fact,
if the priest has possessions
and privileges, he at once appears
in the light of an oppressor.
He is paid by the State, therefore
he is an official: if he gives
his time, his life, his whole
heart, this is a matter of course,
and nothing more than he ought
to do; the citizens expect and
demand his devotion; and the
spontaneous kindliness of his
nature is dried up. But, let
the priest be vowed to poverty,
let him turn to his calling of
his own free will, let him stay
himself on God alone, and have
no resource on earth but the
hearts of the faithful, and he
becomes once more the missionary
of America, he takes the rank
of an apostle, he has all things
under his feet. Indeed, the burden
of wealth drags him down, and
it is only by renouncing everything
that he gains dominion over all
men's hearts."
M. Janvier had compelled the
attention of every one present.
No one spoke; for all the guests
were thoughtful. It was something
new to hear such words as these
in the mouth of a simple cure.
"There is one serious error,
M. Janvier, among the truths
to which you have given expression," said
Benassis. "As you know, I do
not like to raise discussions
on points of general interest
which modern authorities and
modern writers have called in
question. In my opinion, a man
who has thought out a political
system, and who is conscious
that he has within him the power
of applying it in practical politics,
should keep his mind to himself,
seize his opportunity and act;
but if he dwells in peaceful
obscurity as a simple citizen,
is it not sheer lunacy to think
to bring the great mass over
to his opinion by means of individual
discussions? For all that, I
am about to argue with you, my
dear pastor, for I am speaking
before sensible men, each of
whom is accustomed always to
bring his individual light to
a common search for the truth.
My ideas may seem strange to
you, but they are the outcome
of much thought caused by the
calamities of the last forty
years. Universal suffrage, which
finds such favor in the sight
of those persons who belong to
the constitutional opposition,
as it is called, was a capital
institution in the Church, because
(as you yourself have just pointed
out, dear pastor) the individuals
of whom the Church was composed
were all well educated, disciplined
by religious feeling, thoroughly
imbued with the spirit of the
same system, well aware of what
they wanted and whither they
were going. But modern Liberalism
rashly made war upon the prosperous
government of the Bourbons, by
means of ideas which, should
they triumph, would be the ruin
of France and of the Liberals
themselves. This is well known
to the leaders of the Left, who
are merely endeavoring to get
the power into their own hands.
If (which Heaven forbid) the
middle classes ranged under the
banner of the opposition should
succeed in overthrowing those
social superiorities which are
so repugnant to their vanity,
another struggle would follow
hard upon their victory. It would
not be very long before the middle
classes in their turn would be
looked upon by the people as
a sort of noblesse; they would
be a sorry kind of noblesse,
it is true, but their wealth
and privileges would seem so
much the more hateful in the
eyes of the people because they
would have a closer vision of
these things. I do not say that
the nation would come to grief
in the struggle, but society
would perish anew; for the day
of triumph of a suffering people
is always brief, and involves
disorders of the worst kind.
There would be no truce in a
desperate strife arising out
of an inherent or acquired difference
of opinion among the electors.
The less enlightened and more
numerous portion would sweep
away social inequalities, thanks
to a system in which votes are
reckoned by count and not by
weight. Hence it follows that
a government is never more strongly
organized, and as a consequence
is never more perfect than when
it has been established for the
protection of Privilege of the
most restricted kind. By Privilege
I do not at this moment mean
the old abuses by which certain
rights were conceded to a few,
to the prejudice of the many;
no, I am using it to express
the social circle of the governing
class. But throughout creation
Nature has confined the vital
principle within a narrow space,
in order to concentrate its power;
and so it is with the body politic.
I will illustrate this thought
of mine by examples. Let us suppose
that there are a hundred peers
in France, there are only one
hundred causes of offence. Abolish
the peerage, and all the wealthy
people will constitute the privileged
class; instead of a hundred,
you will have ten thousand, instead
of removing class distinctions,
you have merely widened the mischief.
In fact, from the people's point
of view, the right to live without
working is in itself a privilege.
The unproductive consumer is
a robber in their eyes. The only
work that they understand has
palpable results; they set no
value on intellectual labor--the
kind of labor which is the principal
source of wealth to them. So
by multiplying causes of offence
in this way, you extend the field
of battle; the social war would
be waged on all points instead
of being confined within a limited
circle; and when attack and resistance
become general, the ruin of a
country is imminent. Because
the rich will always be fewer
in number, the victory will be
to the poor as soon as it comes
to actual fighting. I will throw
the burden of proof on history.
"The institution
of Senatorial Privilege enabled
the Roman Republic
to conquer the world. The Senate
preserved the tradition of authority.
But when the equites and the
novi homines had extended the
governing classes by adding to
the numbers of the Patricians,
the State came to ruin. In spite
of Sylla, and after the time
of Julius Caesar, Tiberius raised
it into the Roman Empire; the
system was embodied in one man,
and all authority was centered
in him, a measure which prolonged
the magnificent sway of the Roman
for several centuries. The Emperor
had ceased to dwell in Rome when
the Eternal City fell into the
hands of barbarians. When the
conqueror invaded our country,
the Franks who divided the land
among themselves invented feudal
privilege as a safeguard for
property. The hundred or the
thousand chiefs who owned the
country, established their institutions
with a view to defending the
rights gained by conquest. The
duration of the feudal system
was co-existent with the restriction
of Privilege. But when the leudes
(an exact translation of the
word GENTLEMEN) from five hundred
became fifty thousand, there
came a revolution. The governing
power was too widely diffused;
it lacked force and concentration;
and they had not reckoned with
the two powers, Money and Thought,
that had set those free who had
been beneath their rule. So the
victory over the monarchical
system, obtained by the middle
classes with a view to extending
the number of the privileged
class, will produce its natural
effect--the people will triumph
in turn over the middle classes.
If this trouble comes to pass,
the indiscriminate right of suffrage
bestowed upon the masses will
be a dangerous weapon in their
hands. The man who votes, criticises.
An authority that is called in
question is no longer an authority.
Can you imagine a society without
a governing authority? No, you
cannot. Therefore, authority
means force, and a basis of just
judgement should underlie force.
Such are the reasons which have
led me to think that the principle
of popular election is a most
fatal one for modern governments.
I think that my attachment to
the poor and suffering classes
has been sufficiently proved,
and that no one will accuse me
of bearing any ill-will towards
them, but though I admire the
sublime patience and resignation
with which they tread the path
of toil, I must pronounce them
to be unfit to take part in the
government. The proletariat seem
to me to be the minors of a nation,
and ought to remain in a condition
of tutelage. Therefore, gentlemen,
the word ELECTION, to my thinking,
is in a fair way to cause as
much mischief as the words CONSCIENCE
and LIBERTY, which ill-defined
and ill-understood, were flung
broadcast among the people, to
serve as watchwords of revolt
and incitements to destruction.
It seems to me to be a right
and necessary thing that the
masses should be kept in tutelage
for the good of society."
"This system of yours runs
so clean contrary to everybody's
notions nowadays, that we have
some right to ask your reasons
for it," said Genestas, interrupting
the doctor.
"By all means,
captain."
"What is this the master is
saying?" cried Jacquotte, as
she went back to her kitchen. "There
he is, the poor dear man, and
what is he doing but advising
them to crush the people! And
they are listening to him----"
"I would never have believed
it of M. Benassis," answered
Nicolle.
"If I require that the ignorant
masses should be governed by
a strong hand," the doctor resumed,
after a brief pause, "I should
desire at the same time that
the framework of the social system
should be sufficiently yielding
and elastic to allow those who
have the will and are conscious
of their ability to emerge from
the crowd, to rise and take their
place among the privileged classes.
The aim of power of every kind
is its own preservation. In order
to live, a government, to-day
as in the past, must press the
strong men of the nation into
its service, taking them from
every quarter, so as to make
them its defenders, and to remove
from among the people the men
of energy who incite the masses
to insurrection. By opening out
in this way to the public ambition
paths that are at once difficult
and easy, easy for strong wills,
difficult for weak or imperfect
ones, a State averts the perils
of the revolutions caused by
the struggles of men of superior
powers to rise to their proper
level. Our long agony of forty
years should have made it clear
to any man who has brains that
social superiorities are a natural
outcome of the order of things.
They are of three kinds that
cannot be questioned--the superiority
of the thinker, the superiority
of the politician, the superiority
of wealth. Is not that as much
as to say, genius, power, and
money, or, in yet other words--the
cause, the means, and the effect?
But suppose a kind of social
tabula rasa, every social unit
perfectly equal, an increase
of population everywhere in the
same ratio, and give the same
amount of land to each family;
it would not be long before you
would again have all the existing
inequalities of fortune; it is
glaringly evident, therefore,
that there are such things as
superiority of fortune, of thinking
capacity, and of power, and we
must make up our minds to this
fact; but the masses will always
regard rights that have been
most honestly acquired as privileges,
and as a wrong done to themselves.
"The SOCIAL
CONTRACT founded upon this
basis will be a perpetual
pact between those who have and
those who have not. And acting
on these principles, those who
benefit by the laws will be the
lawmakers, for they necessarily
have the instinct of self-preservation,
and foresee their dangers. It
is even more to their interest
than to the interest of the masses
themselves that the latter should
be quiet and contented. The happiness
of the people should be ready
made for the people. If you look
at society as a whole from this
point of view, you will soon
see, as I do, that the privilege
of election ought only to be
exercised by men who possess
wealth, power, or intelligence,
and you will likewise see that
the action of the deputies they
may choose to represent them
should be considerably restricted.
"The maker
of laws, gentlemen, should
be in advance of his age.
It is his business to ascertain
the tendency of erroneous notions
popularly held, to see the exact
direction in which the ideas
of a nation are tending; he labors
for the future rather than for
the present, and for the rising
generation rather than for the
one that is passing away. But
if you call in the masses to
make the laws, can they rise
above their own level? Nay. The
more faithfully an assembly represents
the opinions held by the crowd,
the less it will know about government,
the less lofty its ideas will
be, and the more vague and vacillating
its policy, for the crowd is
and always will be simply a crowd,
and this especially with us in
France. Law involves submission
to regulations; man is naturally
opposed to rules and regulations
of all kinds, especially if they
interfere with his interests;
so is it likely that the masses
will enact laws that are contrary
to their own inclinations? No.
"Very often
legislation ought to run counter
to the prevailing
tendencies of the time. If the
law is to be shaped by the prevailing
habits of thought and tendencies
of a nation, would not that mean
that in Spain a direct encouragement
would be given to idleness and
religious intolerance; in England,
to the commercial spirit; in
Italy, to the love of the arts
that may be the expression of
a society, but by which no society
can entirely exist; in Germany,
feudal class distinctions would
be fostered; and here, in France,
popular legislation would promote
the spirit of frivolity, the
sudden craze for an idea, and
the readiness to split into factions
which has always been our bane.
"What has happened
in the forty years since the
electors took
it upon themselves to make laws
for France? We have something
like forty thousand laws! A people
with forty thousand laws might
as well have none at all. Is
it likely that five hundred mediocrities
(for there are never more than
a hundred great minds to do the
work of any one century), is
it likely that five hundred mediocrities
will have the wit to rise to
the level of these considerations?
Not they! Here is a constant
stream of men poured forth from
five hundred different places;
they will interpret the spirit
of the law in divers manners,
and there should be a unity of
conception in the law.
"But I will
go yet further. Sooner or later
an assembly of
this kind comes to be swayed
by one man, and instead of a
dynasty of kings, you have a
constantly changing and costly
succession of prime ministers.
There comes a Mirabeau or a Danton,
a Robespierre or a Napoleon,
or proconsuls, or an emperor,
and there is an end of deliberations
and debates. In fact, it takes
a determinate amount of force
to raise a given weight; the
force may be distributed, and
you may have a less or greater
number of levers, but it comes
to the same thing in the end:
the force must be in proportion
to the weight. The weight in
this case is the ignorant and
suffering mass of people who
form the lowest stratum of society.
The attitude of authority is
bound to be repressive, and great
concentration of the governing
power is needed to neutralize
the force of a popular movement.
This is the application of the
principle that I unfolded when
I spoke just now of the way in
which the class privileged to
govern should be restricted.
If this class is composed of
men of ability, they will obey
this natural law, and compel
the country to obey. If you collect
a crowd of mediocrities together,
sooner or later they will fall
under the dominion of a stronger
head. A deputy of talent understands
the reasons for which a government
exists; the mediocre deputy simply
comes to terms with force. An
assembly either obeys an idea,
like the Convention in the time
of the Terror; a powerful personality,
like the Corps Legislatif under
the rule of Napoleon; or falls
under the domination of a system
or of wealth, as it has done
in our own day. The Republican
Assembly, that dream of some
innocent souls, is an impossibility.
Those who would fain bring it
to pass are either grossly deluded
dupes or would- be tyrants. Do
you not think that there is something
ludicrous about an Assembly which
gravely sits in debate upon the
perils of a nation which ought
to be roused into immediate action?
It is only right of course that
the people should elect a body
of representatives who will decide
questions of supplies and of
taxation; this institution has
always existed, under the sway
of the most tyrannous ruler no
less than under the sceptre of
the mildest of princes. Money
is not to be taken by force;
there are natural limits to taxation,
and if they are overstepped,
a nation either rises up in revolt,
or lays itself down to die. Again,
if this elective body, changing
from time to time according to
the needs and ideas of those
whom it represents, should refuse
obedience to a bad law in the
name of the people, well and
good. But to imagine that five
hundred men, drawn from every
corner of the kingdom, will make
a good law! Is it not a dreary
joke, for which the people will
sooner or later have to pay?
They have a change of masters,
that is all.
"Authority
ought to be given to one man,
he alone should have
the task of making the laws;
and he should be a man who, by
force of circumstances, is continually
obliged to submit his actions
to general approbation. But the
only restraints that can be brought
to bear upon the exercise of
power, be it the power of the
one, of the many, or of the multitude,
are to be found in the religious
institutions of a country. Religion
forms the only adequate safeguard
against the abuse of supreme
power. When a nation ceases to
believe in religion, it becomes
ungovernable in consequence,
and its prince perforce becomes
a tyrant. The Chambers that occupy
an intermediate place between
rulers and their subjects are
powerless to prevent these results,
and can only mitigate them to
a very slight extent; Assemblies,
as I have said before, are bound
to become the accomplices of
tyranny on the one hand, or of
insurrection on the other. My
own leanings are towards a government
by one man; but though it is
good, it cannot be absolutely
good, for the results of every
policy will always depend upon
the condition and the belief
of the nation. If a nation is
in its dotage, if it has been
corrupted to the core by philosophism
and the spirit of discussion,
it is on the high-road to despotism,
from which no form of free government
will save it. And, at the same
time, a righteous people will
nearly always find liberty even
under a despotic rule. All this
goes to show the necessity for
restricting the right of election
within very narrow limits, the
necessity for a strong government,
the necessity for a powerful
religion which makes the rich
man the friend of the poor, and
enjoins upon the poor an absolute
submission to their lot. It is,
in fact, really imperative that
the Assemblies should be deprived
of all direct legislative power,
and should confine themselves
to the registration of laws and
to questions of taxation.
"I know that
different ideas from these
exist in many minds.
To-day, as in past ages, there
ware enthusiasts who seek for
perfection, and who would like
to have society better ordered
than it is at present. But innovations
which tend to bring about a kind
of social topsy- turvydom, ought
only to be undertaken by general
consent. Let the innovators have
patience. When I remember how
long it has taken Christianity
to establish itself; how many
centuries it has taken to bring
about a purely moral revolution
which surely ought to have been
accomplished peacefully, the
thought of the horrors of a revolution,
in which material interests are
concerned, makes me shudder,
and I am for maintaining existing
institutions. 'Each shall have
his own thought,' is the dictum
of Christianity; 'Each man shall
have his own field,' says modern
law; and in this, modern law
is in harmony with Christianity.
Each shall have his own thought;
that is a consecration of the
rights of intelligence; and each
shall have his own field, is
a consecration of the right to
property that has been acquired
by toil. Hence our society. Nature
has based human life upon the
instinct of self-preservation,
and social life is founded upon
personal interest. Such ideas
as these are, to my thinking,
the very rudiments of politics.
Religion keeps these two selfish
sentiments in subordination by
the thought of a future life;
and in this way the harshness
of the conflict of interests
has been somewhat softened. God
has mitigated the sufferings
that arise from social friction
by a religious sentiment which
raises self-forgetfulness into
a virtue; just as He has moderated
the friction of the mechanism
of the universe by laws which
we do not know. Christianity
bids the poor bear patiently
with the rich, and commands the
rich to lighten the burdens of
the poor; these few words, to
my mind, contain the essence
of all laws, human and divine!"
"I am no statesman," said the
notary; "I see in a ruler a liquidator
of society which should always
remain in liquidation; he should
hand over to his successor the
exact value of the assets which
he received."
"I am no statesman either," said
Benassis, hastily interrupting
the notary. "It takes nothing
but a little common sense to
better the lot of a commune,
of a canton, or of an even wider
district; a department calls
for some administrative talent,
but all these four spheres of
action are comparatively limited,
the outlook is not too wide for
ordinary powers of vision, and
there is a visible connection
between their interests and the
general progress made by the
State.
"But in yet
higher regions, everything
is on a larger scale,
the horizon widens, and from
the standpoint where he is placed,
the statesman ought to grasp
the whole situation. It is only
necessary to consider liabilities
due ten years hence, in order
to bring about a great deal of
good in the case of the department,
the district, the canton, or
the commune; but when it is a
question of the destinies of
a nation, a statesman must foresee
a more distant future and the
course that events are likely
to take for the next hundred
years. The genius of a Colbert
or of a Sully avails nothing,
unless it is supported by the
energetic will that makes a Napoleon
or a Cromwell. A great minister,
gentlemen, is a great thought
written at large over all the
years of a century of prosperity
and splendor for which he has
prepared the way. Steadfast perseverance
is the virtue of which he stands
most in need; and in all human
affairs does not steadfast perseverance
indicate a power of the very
highest order? We have had for
some time past too many men who
think only of the ministry instead
of the nation, so that we cannot
but admire the real statesman
as the vastest human Poetry.
Ever to look beyond the present
moment, to foresee the ways of
Destiny, to care so little for
power that he only retains it
because he is conscious of his
usefulness, while he does not
overestimate his strength; ever
to lay aside all personal feeling
and low ambitions, so that he
may always be master of his faculties,
and foresee, will, and act without
ceasing; to compel himself to
be just and impartial, to keep
order on a large scale, to silence
his heart that he may be guided
by his intellect alone, to be
neither apprehensive nor sanguine,
neither suspicious nor confiding,
neither grateful nor ungrateful,
never to be unprepared for an
event, nor taken unawares by
an idea; to live, in fact, with
the requirements of the masses
ever in his mind, to spread the
protecting wings of his thought
above them, to sway them by the
thunder of his voice and the
keenness of his glance; seeing
all the while not the details
of affairs, but the great issues
at stake--is not that to be something
more than a mere man? Therefore
the names of the great and noble
fathers of nations cannot but
be household words for ever."
There was silence for a moment,
during which the guests looked
at one another.
"Gentlemen, you have not said
a word about the army!" cried
Genestas. "A military organization
seems to me to be the real type
on which all good civil society
should be modeled; the Sword
is the guardian of a nation."
The justice of the peace laughed
softly.
"Captain," he said, "an
old lawyer once said that empires
began with the sword and ended
with the desk; we have reached
the desk stage by this time."
"And now that we have settled
the fate of the world, gentlemen,
let us change the subject. Come,
captain, a glass of Hermitage," cried
the doctor, laughing.
"Two, rather than one," said
Genestas, holding out his glass. "I
mean to drink them both to your
health--to a man who does honor
to the species."
"And who is dear to all of
us," said the cure in gentle
tones.
"Do you mean
to force me into the sin of
pride, M. Janvier?"
"M. le Cure has only said in
a low voice what all the canton
says aloud," said Cambon.
"Gentlemen,
I propose that we take a walk
to the parsonage
by moonlight, and see M. Janvier
home."
"Let us start," said
the guests, and they prepared
to accompany
the cure.
"Shall we go to the barn?" said
the doctor, laying a hand on
Genestas' arm. They had taken
leave of the cure and the other
guests. "You will hear them talking
about Napoleon, Captain Bluteau.
Goguelat, the postman, is there,
and there are several of his
cronies who are sure to draw
him out on the subject of the
idol of the people. Nicolle,
my stableman, has set a ladder
so that we can climb up on to
the hay; there is a place from
which we can look down on the
whole scene. Come along, an up-sitting
is something worth seeing, believe
me. It will not be the first
time that I have hidden in the
hay to overhear a soldier's tales
or the stories that peasants
tell among themselves. We must
be careful to keep out of sight
though, as these folk turn shy
and put on company manners as
soon as they see a stranger."
"Eh! my dear sir," said Genestas, "have
I not often pretended to be asleep
so as to hear my troopers talking
out on bivouac? My word, I once
heard a droll yarn reeled off
by an old quartermaster for some
conscripts who were afraid of
war; I never laughed so heartily
in any theatre in Paris. He was
telling them about the Retreat
from Moscow. He told them that
the army had nothing but the
clothes they stood up in; that
their wine was iced; that the
dead stood stock-still in the
road just where they were; that
they had seen White Russia, and
that they currycombed the horses
there with their teeth; that
those who were fond of skating
had fine times of it, and people
who had a fancy for savory ices
had as much as they could put
away; that the women were generally
poor company; but that the only
thing they could really complain
of was the want of hot water
for shaving. In fact, he told
them such a pack of absurdities,
that even an old quartermaster
who had lost his nose with a
frost-bite, so that they had
dubbed him Nezrestant, was fain
to laugh."
"Hush!" said Benassis, "here
we are. I will go first; follow
after me."
Both of them scaled the ladder
and hid themselves in the hay,
in a place from whence they could
have a good view of the party
below, who had not heard a sound
overhead. Little groups of women
were clustered about three or
four candles. Some of them sewed,
others were spinning, a good
few of them were doing nothing,
and sat with their heads strained
forward, and their eyes fixed
on an old peasant who was telling
a story. The men were standing
about for the most part, or lying
at full length on the trusses
of hay. Every group was absolutely
silent. Their faces were barely
visible by the flickering gleams
of the candles by which the women
were working, although each candle
was surrounded by a glass globe
filled with water, in order to
concentrate the light. The thick
darkness and shadow that filled
the roof and all the upper part
of the barn seemed still further
to diminish the light that fell
here and there upon the workers'
heads with such picturesque effects
of light and shade. Here, it
shone full upon the bright wondering
eyes and brown forehead of a
little peasant maiden; and there
the straggling beams brought
out the outlines of the rugged
brows of some of the older men,
throwing up their figures in
sharp relief against the dark
background, and giving a fantastic
appearance to their worn and
weather-stained garb. The attentive
attitude of all these people
and the expression on all their
faces showed that they had given
themselves up entirely to the
pleasure of listening, and that
the narrator's sway was absolute.
It was a curious scene. The immense
influence that poetry exerts
over every mind was plainly to
be seen. For is not the peasant
who demands that the tale of
wonder should be simple, and
that the impossible should be
well-nigh credible, a lover of
poetry of the purest kind?
"She did not like the look
of the house at all," the peasant
was saying as the two newcomers
took their places where they
could overhear him; "but the
poor little hunchback was so
tired out with carrying her bundle
of hemp to market, that she went
in; besides, the night had come,
and she could go no further.
She only asked to be allowed
to sleep there, and ate nothing
but a crust of bread that she
took from her wallet. And inasmuch
as the woman who kept house for
the brigands knew nothing about
what they had planned to do that
night, she let the old woman
into the house, and sent her
upstairs without a light. Our
hunchback throws herself down
on a rickety truckle bed, says
her prayers, thinks about her
hemp, and is dropping off to
sleep. But before she is fairly
asleep, she hears a noise, and
in walk two men carrying a lantern,
and each man had a knife in his
hand. Then fear came upon her;
for in those times, look you,
they used to make pates of human
flesh for the seigneurs, who
were very fond of them. But the
old woman plucked up heart again,
for she was so thoroughly shriveled
and wrinkled that she thought
they would think her a poorish
sort of diet. The two men went
past the hunchback and walked
up to a bed that there was in
the great room, and in which
they had put the gentleman with
the big portmanteau, the one
that passed for a negromancer.
The taller man holds up the lantern
and takes the gentleman by the
feet, and the short one, that
had pretended to be drunk, clutches
hold of his head and cuts his
throat, clean, with one stroke,
swish! Then they leave the head
and body lying in its own blood
up there, steal the portmanteau,
and go downstairs with it. Here
is our woman in a nice fix! First
of all she thinks of slipping
out, before any one can suspect
it, not knowing that Providence
had brought her there to glorify
God and to bring down punishment
on the murderers. She was in
a great fright, and when one
is frightened one thinks of nothing
else. But the woman of the house
had asked the two brigands about
the hunchback, and that had alarmed
them. So back they came, creeping
softly up the wooden staircase.
The poor hunchback curls up in
a ball with fright, and she hears
them talking about her in whispers.
" 'Kill her,
I tell you.'
" 'No need
to kill her.'
" 'Kill her!'
" 'No!'
"Then they
came in. The woman, who was
no fool, shuts her eyes
and pretends to be asleep. She
sets to work to sleep like a
child, with her hand on her heart,
and takes to breathing like a
cherub. The man opens the lantern
and shines the light straight
into the eyes of the sleeping
old woman--she does not move
an eyelash, she is in such terror
for her neck.
" 'She is sleeping
like a log; you can see that
quite well,'
so says the tall one.
" 'Old women
are so cunning!' answers the
short man. 'I will
kill her. We shall feel easier
in our minds. Besides, we will
salt her down to feed the pigs.'
"The old woman
hears all this talk, but she
does not stir.
" 'Oh! it is
all right, she is asleep,'
says the short ruffian,
when he saw that the hunchback
had not stirred.
"That is how
the old woman saved her life.
And she may be
fairly called courageous; for
it is a fact that there are not
many girls here who could have
breathed like cherubs while they
heard that talk going on about
the pigs. Well, the two brigands
set to work to lift up the dead
man; they wrap him round in the
sheets and chuck him out into
the little yard; and the old
woman hears the pigs scampering
up to eat him, and grunting,
HON! hon!
"So when morning comes," the
narrator resumed after a pause, "the
woman gets up and goes down,
paying a couple of sous for her
bed. She takes up her wallet,
goes on just as if nothing had
happened, asks for the news of
the countryside, and gets away
in peace. She wants to run. Running
is quite out of the question,
her legs fail her for fright;
and lucky it was for her that
she could not run, for this reason.
She had barely gone half a quarter
of a league before she sees one
of the brigands coming after
her, just out of craftiness to
make quite sure that she had
seen nothing. She guesses this,
and sits herself down on a boulder.
" 'What is
the matter, good woman?' asks
the short one, for
it was the shorter one and the
wickeder of the two who was dogging
her.
" 'Oh! master,'
says she, 'my wallet is so
heavy, and I am
so tired, that I badly want some
good man to give me his arm'
(sly thing, only listen to her!)
'if I am to get back to my poor
home.'
"Thereupon
the brigand offers to go along
with her, and she
accepts his offer. The fellow
takes hold of her arm to see
if she is afraid. Not she! She
does not tremble a bit, and walks
quietly along. So there they
are, chatting away as nicely
as possible, all about farming,
and the way to grow hemp, till
they come to the outskirts of
the town, where the hunchback
lived, and the brigand made off
for fear of meeting some of the
sheriff's people. The woman reached
her house at mid-day, and waited
there till her husband came home;
she thought and thought over
all that had happened on her
journey and during the night.
The hemp-grower came home in
the evening. He was hungry; something
must be got ready for him to
eat. So while she greases her
frying-pan, and gets ready to
fry something for him, she tells
him how she sold her hemp, and
gabbles away as females do, but
not a word does she say about
the pigs, nor about the gentleman
who was murdered and robbed and
eaten. She holds her frying-pan
in the flames so as to clean
it, draws it out again to give
it a wipe, and finds it full
of blood.
" 'What have
you been putting into it?'
says she to her man.
" 'Nothing,'
says he.
"She thinks
it must have been a nonsensical
piece of woman's
fancy, and puts her frying-pan
into the fire again. . . . Pouf!
A head comes tumbling down the
chimney!
" 'Oh! look!
It is nothing more nor less
than the dead man's
head,' says the old woman. 'How
he stares at me! What does he
want!'
" 'YOU MUST
AVENGE ME!' says a voice.
" 'What an
idiot you are!' said the hemp-grower.
'Always
seeing something or other that
has no sort of sense about it!
Just you all over.'
"He takes up
the head, which snaps at his
finger, and pitches
it out into the yard.
" 'Get on with
my omelette,' he says, 'and
do not bother yourself
about that. 'Tis a cat.'
" 'A cat! says
she; 'it was as round as a
ball.'
"She puts back
her frying-pan on the fire.
. . . Pouf! Down
comes a leg this time, and they
go through the whole story again.
The man was no more astonished
at the foot than he had been
at the head; he snatched up the
leg and threw it out at the door.
Before they had finished, the
other leg, both arms, the body,
the whole murdered traveler,
in fact, came down piecemeal.
No omelette all this time! The
old hemp-seller grew very hungry
indeed.
" 'By my salvation!'
said he, 'when once my omelette
is made
we will see about satisfying
that man yonder.'
" 'So you admit,
now, that it was a man?' said
the hunchback
wife. 'What made you say that
it was not a head a minute ago,
you great worry?'
"The woman
breaks the eggs, fries the
omelette, and dishes
it up without any more grumbling;
somehow this squabble began to
make her feel very uncomfortable.
Her husband sits down and begins
to eat. The hunchback was frightened,
and said that she was not hungry.
" 'Tap! tap!'
There was a stranger rapping
at the door.
" 'Who is there?'
" 'The man
that died yesterday!'
" 'Come in,'
answers the hemp-grower.
"So the traveler
comes in, sits himself down
on a three-legged
stool, and says: 'Are you mindful
of God, who gives eternal peace
to those who confess His Name?
Woman! You saw me done to death,
and you have said nothing! I
have been eaten by the pigs!
The pigs do not enter Paradise,
and therefore I, a Christian
man, shall go down into hell,
all because a woman forsooth
will not speak, a thing that
has never been known before.
You must deliver me,' and so
on, and so on.
"The woman,
who was more and more frightened
every minute,
cleaned her frying-pan, put on
her Sunday clothes, went to the
justice, and told him about the
crime, which was brought to light,
and the robbers were broken on
the wheel in proper style on
the Market Place. This good work
accomplished, the woman and her
husband always had the finest
hemp you ever set eyes on. Then,
which pleased them still better,
they had something that they
had wished for for a long time,
to-wit, a man- child, who in
course of time became a great
lord of the king's.
"That is the
true story of The Courageous
Hunchback Woman.
"I do not like stories of that
sort; they make me dream at night," said
La Fosseuse. "Napoleon's adventures
are much nicer, I think."
"Quite true," said the keeper. "Come
now, M. Goguelat, tell us about
the Emperor."
"The evening is too far gone," said
the postman, "and I do not care
about cutting short the story
of a victory."
"Never mind,
let us hear about it all the
same! We know the
stories, for we have heard you
tell them many a time; but it
is always a pleasure to hear
them."
"Tell us about the Emperor!" cried
several voices at once.
"You will have it?" answered
Goguelat. "Very good, but you
will see that there is no sense
in the story when it is gone
through at a gallop. I would
rather tell you all about a single
battle. Shall it be Champ-Aubert,
where we ran out of cartridges,
and furbished them just the same
with the bayonet?"
"No, the Emperor!
the Emperor!"
The old infantry man got up
from his truss of hay and glanced
round about on those assembled,
with the peculiar sombre expression
in which may be read all the
miseries, adventures, and hardships
of an old soldier's career. He
took his coat by the two skirts
in front, and raised them, as
if it were a question of once
more packing up the knapsack
in which his kit, his shoes,
and all he had in the world used
to be stowed; for a moment he
stood leaning all his weight
on his left foot, then he swung
the right foot forward, and yielded
with a good grace to the wishes
of his audience. He swept his
gray hair to one side, so as
to leave his forehead bare, and
flung back his head and gazed
upwards, as if to raise himself
to the lofty height of the gigantic
story that he was about to tell.
"Napoleon,
you see, my friends, was born
in Corsica, which is
a French island warmed by the
Italian sun; it is like a furnace
there, everything is scorched
up, and they keep on killing
each other from father to son
for generations all about nothing
at all--'tis a notion they have.
To begin at the beginning, there
was something extraordinary about
the thing from the first; it
occurred to his mother, who was
the handsomest woman of her time,
and a shrewd soul, to dedicate
him to God, so that he should
escape all the dangers of infancy
and of his after life; for she
had dreamed that the world was
on fire on the day he was born.
It was a prophecy! So she asked
God to protect him, on condition
that Napoleon should re-establish
His holy religion, which had
been thrown to the ground just
then. That was the agreement;
we shall see what came of it.
"Now, do you
follow me carefully, and tell
me whether what you
are about to hear is natural.
"It is certain
sure that only a man who had
had imagination
enough to make a mysterious compact
would be capable of going further
than anybody else, and of passing
through volleys of grape-shot
and showers of bullets which
carried us off like flies, but
which had a respect for his head.
I myself had particular proof
of that at Eylau. I see him yet;
he climbs a hillock, takes his
field-glass, looks along our
lines, and says, 'That is going
on all right.' One of the deep
fellows, with a bunch of feathers
in his cap, used to plague him
a good deal from all accounts,
following him about everywhere,
even when he was getting his
meals. This fellow wants to do
something clever, so as soon
as the Emperor goes away he takes
his place. Oh! swept away in
a moment! And this is the last
of the bunch of feathers! You
understand quite clearly that
Napoleon had undertaken to keep
his secret to himself. That is
why those who accompanied him,
and even his especial friends,
used to drop like nuts: Duroc,
Bessieres, Lannes-- men as strong
as bars of steel, which he cast
into shape for his own ends.
And here is a final proof that
he was the child of God, created
to be the soldier's father; for
no one ever saw him as a lieutenant
or a captain. He is a commandant
straight off! Ah! yes, indeed!
He did not look more than four-and-twenty,
but he was an old general ever
since the taking of Toulon, when
he made a beginning by showing
the rest that they knew nothing
about handling cannon. Next thing
he does, he tumbles upon us.
A little slip of a general-in-chief
of the army of Italy, which had
neither bread nor ammunition
nor shoes nor clothes--a wretched
army as naked as a worm.
" ' Friends,'
he said, 'here we all are together.
Now, get
it well into your pates that
in a fortnight's time from now
you will be the victors, and
dressed in new clothes; you shall
all have greatcoats, strong gaiters,
and famous pairs of shoes; but,
my children, you will have to
march on Milan to take them,
where all these things are.'
"So they marched.
The French, crushed as flat
as a pancake,
held up their heads again. There
were thirty thousand of us tatterdemalions
against eighty thousand swaggerers
of Germans--fine tall men and
well equipped; I can see them
yet. Then Napoleon, who was only
Bonaparte in those days, breathed
goodness knows what into us,
and on we marched night and day.
We rap their knuckles at Montenotte;
we hurry on to thrash them at
Rivoli, Lodi, Arcola, and Millesimo,
and we never let them go. The
army came to have a liking for
winning battles. Then Napoleon
hems them in on all sides, these
German generals did not know
where to hide themselves so as
to have a little peace and comfort;
he drubs them soundly, cribs
ten thousand of their men at
a time by surrounding them with
fifteen hundred Frenchmen, whom
he makes to spring up after his
fashion, and at last he takes
their cannon, victuals, money,
ammunition, and everything they
have that is worth taking; he
pitches them into the water,
beats them on the mountains,
snaps at them in the air, gobbles
them up on the earth, and thrashes
them everywhere.
"There are
the troops in full feather
again! For, look you,
the Emperor (who, for that matter,
was a wit) soon sent for the
inhabitant, and told him that
he had come there to deliver
him. Whereupon the civilian finds
us free quarters and makes much
of us, so do the women, who showed
great discernment. To come to
a final end; in Ventose '96,
which was at that time what the
month of March is now, we had
been driven up into a corner
of the Pays des Marmottes; but
after the campaign, lo and behold!
we were the masters of Italy,
just as Napoleon had prophesied.
And in the month of March following,
in one year and in two campaigns,
he brings us within sight of
Vienna; we had made a clean sweep
of them. We had gobbled down
three armies one after another,
and taken the conceit out of
four Austrian generals; one of
them, an old man who had white
hair, had been roasted like a
rat in the straw before Mantua.
The kings were suing for mercy
on their knees. Peace had been
won. Could a mere mortal have
done that? No. God helped him,
that is certain. He distributed
himself about like the five loaves
in the Gospel, commanded on the
battlefield all day, and drew
up his plans at night. The sentries
always saw him coming; he neither
ate nor slept. Therefore, recognizing
these prodigies, the soldier
adopts him for his father. But,
forward!
"The other
folk there in Paris, seeing
all this, say among themselves:
" 'Here is
a pilgrim who appears to take
his instructions from
Heaven above; he is uncommonly
likely to lay a hand on France.
We must let him loose on Asia
or America, and that, perhaps,
will keep him quiet.
"The same thing
was decreed for him as for
Jesus Christ;
for, as a matter of fact, they
give him orders to go on duty
down in Egypt. See his resemblance
to the Son of God! That is not
all, though. He calls all his
fire-eaters about him, all those
into whom he had more particularly
put the devil, and talks to them
in this way:
" 'My friends,
for the time being they are
giving us Egypt
to stop our mouths. But we will
swallow down Egypt in a brace
of shakes, just as we swallowed
Italy, and private soldiers shall
be princes, and shall have broad
lands of their own. Forward!'
" 'Forward,
lads!' cry the sergeants.
"So we come
to Toulon on the way to Egypt.
Whereupon the English
put to sea with all their fleet.
But when we are on board, Napoleon
says to us:
" 'They will
not see us: and it is right
and proper that you
should know henceforward that
your general has a star in the
sky that guides us and watches
over us!'
"So said, so
done. As we sailed over the
sea we took Malta, by
way of an orange to quench his
thirst for victory, for he was
a man who must always be doing
something. There we are in Egypt.
Well and good. Different orders.
The Egyptians, look you, are
men who, ever since the world
has been the world, have been
in the habit of having giants
to reign over them, and armies
like swarms of ants; because
it is a country full of genii
and crocodiles, where they have
built up pyramids as big as our
mountains, the fancy took them
to stow their kings under the
pyramids, so as to keep them
fresh, a thing which mightily
pleases them all round out there.
Whereupon, as we landed, the
Little Corporal said to us:
" 'My children,
the country which you are about
to conquer
worships a lot of idols which
you must respect, because the
Frenchman ought to be on good
terms with all the world, and
fight people without giving annoyance.
Get it well into your heads to
let everything alone at first;
for we shall have it all by and
by! and forward!'
"So far so
good. But all those people
had heard a prophecy of
Napoleon, under the name of Kebir
Bonaberdis; a word which in our
lingo means, 'The Sultan fires
a shot,' and they feared him
like the devil. So the Grand
Turk, Asia, and Africa have recourse
to magic, and they send a demon
against us, named the Mahdi,
who it was thought had come down
from heaven on a white charger
which, like its master was bullet-proof,
and the pair of them lived on
the air of that part of the world.
There are people who have seen
them, but for my part I cannot
give you any certain informations
about them. They were the divinities
of Arabia and of the Mamelukes
who wished their troopers to
believe that the Mahdi had the
power of preventing them from
dying in battle. They gave out
that he was an angel sent down
to wage war on Napoleon, and
to get back Solomon's seal, part
of their paraphernalia which
they pretended our general had
stolen. You will readily understand
that we made them cry peccavi
all the same.
"Ah, just tell
me now how they came to know
about that compact
of Napoleon's? Was that natural?
"They took
it into their heads for certain
that he commanded
the genii, and that he went from
place to place like a bird in
the twinkling of an eye; and
it is a fact that he was everywhere.
At length it came about that
he carried off a queen of theirs.
She was the private property
of a Mameluke, who, although
he had several more of them,
flatly refused to strike a bargain,
though 'the other' offered all
his treasures for her and diamonds
as big as pigeon's eggs. When
things had come to that pass,
they could not well be settled
without a good deal of fighting;
and there was fighting enough
for everybody and no mistake
about it.
"Then we are
drawn up before Alexandria,
and again at Gizeh,
and before the Pyramids. We had
to march over the sands and in
the sun; people whose eyes dazzled
used to see water that they could
not drink and shade that made
them fume. But we made short
work of the Mamelukes as usual,
and everything goes down before
the voice of Napoleon, who seizes
Upper and Lower Egypt and Arabia,
far and wide, till we came to
the capitals of kingdoms which
no longer existed, where there
were thousands and thousands
of statues of all the devils
in creation, all done to the
life, and another curious thing
too, any quantity of lizards.
A confounded country where any
one could have as many acres
of land as he wished for as little
as he pleased.
"While he was
busy inland, where he meant
to carry out some
wonderful ideas of his, the English
burn his fleet for him in Aboukir
Bay, for they never could do
enough to annoy us. But Napoleon,
who was respected East and West,
and called 'My Son' by the Pope,
and 'My dear Father' by Mahomet's
cousin, makes up his mind to
have his revenge on England,
and to take India in exchange
for his fleet. He set out to
lead us into Asia, by way of
the Red Sea, through a country
where there were palaces for
halting-places, and nothing but
gold and diamonds to pay the
troops with, when the Mahdi comes
to an understanding with the
Plague, and sends it among us
to make a break in our victories.
Halt! Then every man files off
to that parade from which no
one comes back on his two feet.
The dying soldier cannot take
Acre, into which he forces an
entrance three times with a warrior's
impetuous enthusiasm; the Plague
was too strong for us; there
was not even time to say 'Your
servant, sir!' to the Plague.
Every man was down with it. Napoleon
alone was as fresh as a rose;
the whole army saw him drinking
in the Plague without it doing
him any harm whatever.
"There now,
my friends, was that natural,
do you think?
"The Mamelukes,
knowing that we were all on
the sick-list,
want to stop our road; but it
was no use trying that nonsense
with Napoleon. So he spoke to
his familiars, who had tougher
skins than the rest:
" 'Go and clear
the road for me.'
"Junot, who
was his devoted friend, and
a first-class fighter,
only takes a thousand men, and
makes a clean sweep of the Pasha's
army, which had the impudence
to bar our way. Thereupon back
we came to Cairo, our headquarters,
and now for another story.
"Napoleon being
out of the country, France
allowed the people
in Paris to worry the life out
of her. They kept back the soldiers'
pay and all their linen and clothing,
left them to starve, and expected
them to lay down law to the universe,
without taking any further trouble
in the matter. They were idiots
of the kind that amuse themselves
with chattering instead of setting
themselves to knead the dough.
So our armies were defeated,
France could not keep her frontiers;
The Man was not there. I say
The Man, look you, because that
was how they called him; but
it was stuff and nonsense, for
he had a star of his own and
all his other peculiarities,
it was the rest of us that were
mere men. He hears this history
of France after his famous battle
of Aboukir, where with a single
division he routed the grand
army of the Turks, twenty-five
thousand strong, and jostled
more than half of them into the
sea, rrrah! without losing more
than three hundred of his own
men. That was his last thunder-clap
in Egypt. He said to himself,
seeing that all was lost down
there, 'I know that I am the
saviour of France, and to France
I must go.'
"But you must
clearly understand that the
army did not know of
his departure; for if they had,
they would have kept him there
by force to make him Emperor
of the East. So there we all
are without him, and in low spirits,
for he was the life of us. He
leaves Kleber in command, a great
watchdog who passed in his checks
at Cairo, murdered by an Egyptian
whom they put to death by spiking
him with a bayonet, which is
their way of guillotining people
out there; but he suffered so
much, that a soldier took pity
on the scoundrel and handed his
flask to him; and the Egyptian
turned up his eyes then and there
with all the pleasure in life.
But there is not much fun for
us about this little affair.
Napoleon steps aboard of a little
cockleshell, a mere nothing of
a skiff, called the Fortune,
and in the twinkling of an eye,
and in the teeth of the English,
who were blockading the place
with vessels of the line and
cruisers and everything that
carries canvas, he lands in France
for he always had the faculty
of taking the sea at a stride.
Was that natural? Bah! as soon
as he landed at Frejus, it is
as good as saying that he has
set foot in Paris. Everybody
there worships him; but he calls
the Government together.
" 'What have
you done to my children, the
soldiers?' he says
to the lawyers. 'You are a set
of good-for-nothings who make
fools of other people, and feather
your own nests at the expense
of France. It will not do. I
speak in the name of every one
who is discontented.'
"Thereupon
they want to put him off and
to get rid of him;
but not a bit of it! He locks
them up in the barracks where
they used to argufy and makes
them jump out of the windows.
Then he makes them follow in
his train, and they all become
as mute as fishes and supple
as tobacco pouches. So he becomes
Consul at a blow. He was not
the man to doubt the existence
of the Supreme Being; he kept
his word with Providence, who
had kept His promise in earnest;
he sets up religion again, and
gives back the churches, and
they ring the bells for God and
Napoleon. So every one is satisfied:
primo the priests with whom he
allows no one to meddle; segondo,
the merchant folk who carry on
their trades without fear of
the rapiamus of the law that
had pressed too heavily on them;
tertio, the nobles; for people
had fallen into an unfortunate
habit of putting them to death,
and he puts a stop to this.
"But there
were enemies to be cleared
out of the way, and
he was not the one to go to sleep
after mess; and his eyes, look
you, traveled all over the world
as if it had been a man's face.
The next thing he did was to
turn up in Italy; it was just
as if he had put his head out
of the window and the sight of
him was enough; they gulp down
the Austrians at Marengo like
a whale swallowing gudgeons!
Haouf! The French Victories blew
their trumpets so loud that the
whole world could hear the noise,
and there was an end of it.
" 'We will
not keep on at this game any
longer!' say the Germans.
" 'That is
enough of this sort of thing,'
say the others.
"Here is the
upshot. Europe shows the white
feather, England
knuckles under, general peace
all round, and kings and peoples
pretending to embrace each other.
While then and there the Emperor
hits on the idea of the Legion
of Honor. There's a fine thing
if you like!
"He spoke to
the whole army at Boulogne.
'In France,' so
he said, 'every man is brave.
So the civilian who does gloriously
shall be the soldier's sister,
the soldier shall be his brother,
and both shall stand together
beneath the flag of honor.'
"By the time
that the rest of us who were
away down there
in Egypt had come back again,
everything was changed. We had
seen him last as a general, and
in no time we find that he is
Emperor! And when this was settled
(and it may safely be said that
every one was satisfied) there
was a holy ceremony such as was
never seen under the canopy of
heaven. Faith, France gave herself
to him, like a handsome girl
to a lancer, and the Pope and
all his cardinals in robes of
red and gold come across the
Alps on purpose to anoint him
before the army and the people,
who clap their hands.
"There is one
thing that it would be very
wrong to keep back
from you. While he was in Egypt,
in the desert not far away from
Syria, the Red Man had appeared
to him on the mountain of Moses,
in order to say, 'Everything
is going on well.' Then again,
on the eve of victory at Marengo,
the Red Man springs to his feet
in front of the Emperor for the
second time, and says to him:
" 'You shall
see the world at your feet;
you shall be Emperor
of the French, King of Italy,
master of Holland, ruler of Spain,
Portugal, and the Illyrian Provinces,
protector of Germany, saviour
of Poland, first eagle of the
Legion of Honor and all the rest
of it.'
"That Red Man,
look you, was a notion of his
own, who ran
on errands and carried messages,
so many people say, between him
and his star. I myself have never
believed that; but the Red Man
is, undoubtedly, a fact. Napoleon
himself spoke of the Red Man
who lived up in the roof of the
Tuileries, and who used to come
to him, he said, in moments of
trouble and difficulty. So on
the night after his coronation
Napoleon saw him for the third
time, and they talked over a
lot of things together.
"Then the Emperor
goes straight to Milan to have
himself crowned
King of Italy, and then came
the real triumph of the soldier.
For every one who could write
became an officer forthwith,
and pensions and gifts of duchies
poured down in showers. There
were fortunes for the staff that
never cost France a penny, and
the Legion of Honor was as good
as an annuity for the rank and
file; I still draw my pension
on the strength of it. In short,
here were armies provided for
in a way that had never been
seen before! But the Emperor,
who knew that he was to be Emperor
over everybody, and not only
over the army, bethinks himself
of the bourgeois, and sets them
to build fairy monuments in places
that had been as bare as the
back of my hand till then. Suppose,
now, that you are coming out
of Spain and on the way to Berlin;
well, you would see triumphal
arches, and in the sculpture
upon them the common soldiers
are done every bit as beautifully
as the generals!
"In two or
three years Napoleon fills
his cellars with gold,
makes bridges, palaces, roads,
scholars, festivals, laws, fleets,
and harbors; he spends millions
on millions, ever so much, and
ever so much more to it, so that
I have heard it said that he
could have paved the whole of
France with five-franc pieces
if the fancy had taken him; and
all this without putting any
taxes on you people here. So
when he was comfortably seated
on his throne, and so thoroughly
the master of the situation,
that all Europe was waiting for
leave to do anything for him
that he might happen to want;
as he had four brothers and three
sisters, he said to us, just
as it might be by way of conversation,
in the order of the day:
" 'Children, is it fitting
that your Emperor's relations
should beg their bread? No; I
want them all to be luminaries,
like me in fact! Therefore, it
is urgently necessary to conquer
a kingdom for each one of them,
so that the French nation may
be masters everywhere, so that
the Guard may make the whole
earth tremble, and France may
spit wherever she likes, and
every nation shall say to her,
as it is written on my coins, "God
protects you." '
" 'All right!'
answers the army, 'we will
fish up kingdoms
for you with the bayonet.'
"Ah! there
was no backing out of it, look
you! If he had taken
it into his head to conquer the
moon, we should have had to put
everything in train, pack our
knapsacks, and scramble up; luckily,
he had no wish for that excursion.
The kings who were used to the
comforts of a throne, of course,
objected to be lugged off, so
we had marching orders. We march,
we get there, and the earth begins
to shake to its centre again.
What times they were for wearing
out men and shoe- leather! And
the hard knocks that they gave
us! Only Frenchmen could have
stood it. But you are not ignorant
that a Frenchman is a born philosopher;
he knows that he must die a little
sooner or a litter later. So
we used to die without a word,
because we had the pleasure of
watching the Emperor do THIS
on the maps."
Here the soldier swung quickly
round on one foot, so as to trace
a circle on the barn floor with
the other.
" 'There, that
shall be a kingdom,' he used
to say, and it was a
kingdom. What fine times they
were! Colonels became generals
whilst you were looking at them,
generals became marshals of France,
and marshals became kings. There
is one of them still left on
his feet to keep Europe in mind
of those days, Gascon though
he may be, and a traitor to France
that he might keep his crown;
and he did not blush for his
shame, for, after all, a crown,
look you, is made of gold. The
very sappers and miners who knew
how to read became great nobles
in the same way. And I who am
telling you all this have seen
in Paris eleven kings and a crowd
of princes all round about Napoleon,
like rays about the sun! Keep
this well in your minds, that
as every soldier stood a chance
of having a throne of his own
(provided he showed himself worthy
of it), a corporal of the Guard
was by way of being a sight to
see, and they gaped at him as
he went by; for every one came
by his share after a victory,
it was made perfectly clear in
the bulletin. And what battles
they were! Austerlitz, where
the army was manoeuvred as if
it had been a review; Eylau,
where the Russians were drowned
in a lake, just as if Napoleon
had breathed on them and blown
them in; Wagram, where the fighting
was kept up for three whole days
without flinching. In short,
there were as many battles as
there are saints in the calendar.
"Then it was
made clear beyond a doubt that
Napoleon bore the
Sword of God in his scabbard.
He had a regard for the soldier.
He took the soldier for his child.
He was anxious that you should
have shoes, shirts, greatcoats,
bread, and cartridges; but he
kept up his majesty, too, for
reigning was his own particular
occupation. But, all the same,
a sergeant, or even a common
soldier, could go up to him and
call him 'Emperor,' just as you
might say 'My good friend' to
me at times. And he would give
an answer to anything you put
before him. He used to sleep
on the snow just like the rest
of us--in short, he looked almost
like an ordinary man; but I who
am telling you all these things
have seen him myself with the
grape-shot whizzing about his
ears, no more put out by it than
you are at this moment; never
moving a limb, watching through
his field-glass, always looking
after his business; so we stood
our ground likewise, as cool
and calm as John the Baptist.
I do not know how he did it;
but whenever he spoke, a something
in his words made our hearts
burn within us; and just to let
him see that we were his children,
and that it was not in us to
shirk or flinch, we used to walk
just as usual right up to the
sluts of cannon that were belching
smoke and vomiting battalions
of balls, and never a man would
so much as say, 'Look out!' It
was a something that made dying
men raise their heads to salute
him and cry, 'Long live the Emperor!'
"Was that natural?
Would you have done this for
a mere man?
"Thereupon,
having fitted up all his family,
and things having
so turned out that the Empress
Josephine (a good woman for all
that) had no children, he was
obliged to part company with
her, although he loved her not
a little. But he must have children,
for reasons of State. All the
crowned heads of Europe, when
they heard of his difficulty,
squabbled among themselves as
to who should find him a wife.
He married an Austrian princess,
so they say, who was the daughter
of the Caesars, a man of antiquity
whom everybody talks about, not
only in our country, where it
is said that most things were
his doing, but also all over
Europe. And so certain sure is
that, that I who am talking to
you have been myself across the
Danube, where I saw the ruins
of a bridge built by that man;
and it appeared that he was some
connection of Napoleon's at Rome,
for the Emperor claimed succession
there for his son.
"So, after
his wedding, which was a holiday
for the whole world,
and when they let the people
off their taxes for ten years
to come (though they had to pay
them just the same after all,
because the excisemen took no
notice of the proclamation)--after
his wedding, I say, his wife
had a child who was King of Rome;
a child was born a King while
his father was alive, a thing
that had never been seen in the
world before! That day a balloon
set out from Paris to carry the
news to Rome, and went all the
way in one day. There, now! Is
there one of you who will stand
me out that there was nothing
supernatural in that? No, it
was decreed on high. And the
mischief take those who will
not allow that it was wafted
over by God Himself, so as to
add to the honor and glory of
France!
"But there
was the Emperor of Russia,
a friend of our Emperor's,
who was put out because he had
not married a Russian lady. So
the Russian backs up our enemies
the English; for there had always
been something to prevent Napoleon
from putting a spoke in their
wheel. Clearly an end must be
made of fowl of that feather.
Napoleon is vexed, and he says
to us:
" 'Soldiers!
You have been the masters of
every capital
in Europe, except Moscow, which
is allied to England. So, in
order to conquer London and India,
which belongs to them in London,
I find it absolutely necessary
that we go to Moscow.'
"Thereupon
the greatest army that ever
wore gaiters, and left
its footprints all over the globe,
is brought together, and drawn
up with such peculiar cleverness,
that the Emperor passed a million
men in review, all in a single
day.
" 'Hourra!'
cry the Russians, and there
is all Russia assembled,
a lot of brutes of Cossacks,
that you never can come up with!
It was country against country,
a general stramash; we had to
look out for ourselves. 'It was
all Asia against Europe,' as
the Red Man had said to Napoleon.
'All right,' Napoleon had answered,
'I shall be ready for them.'
"And there,
in fact, were all the kings
who came to lick Napoleon's
hand. Austria, Prussia, Bavaria,
Saxony, Poland, and Italy, all
speaking us fair and going along
with us; it was a fine thing!
The Eagles had never cooed before
as they did on parade in those
days, when they were reared above
all the flags of all the nations
of Europe. The Poles could not
contain their joy because the
Emperor had a notion of setting
up their kingdom again; and ever
since Poland and France have
always been like brothers. In
short, the army shouts, 'Russia
shall be ours!'
"We cross the
frontiers, all the lot of us.
We march and better
march, but never a Russian do
we see. At last all our watch-dogs
are encamped at Borodino. That
was where I received the Cross,
and there is no denying that
it was a cursed battle. The Emperor
was not easy in his mind; he
had seen the Red Man, who said
to him, 'My child, you are going
a little too fast for your feet;
you will run short of men, and
your friends will play you false.'
"Thereupon
the Emperor proposes a treaty.
But before he signs
it, he says to us:
" 'Let us give
these Russians a drubbing!'
" 'All right!'
cried the army.
" 'Forward!'
say the sergeants.
"My clothes
were all falling to pieces,
my shoes were worn
out with trapezing over those
roads out there, which are not
good going at all. But it is
all one. 'Since here is the last
of the row,' said I to myself,
'I mean to get all I can out
of it.'
"We were posted
before the great ravine; we
had seats in
the front row. The signal is
given, and seven hundred guns
begin a conversation fit to make
the blood spirt from your ears.
One should give the devil his
due, and the Russians let themselves
be cut in pieces just like Frenchmen;
they did not give way, and we
made no advance.
" 'Forward!'
is the cry; 'here is the Emperor!'
"So it was.
He rides past us at a gallop,
and makes a sign
to us that a great deal depends
on our carrying the redoubt.
He puts fresh heart into us;
we rush forward, I am the first
man to reach the gorge. Ah! mon
Dieu! how they fell, colonels,
lieutenants, and common soldiers,
all alike! There were shoes to
fit up those who had none, and
epaulettes for the knowing fellows
that knew how to write. . . .
Victory is the cry all along
the line! And, upon my word,
there were twenty-five thousand
Frenchmen lying on the field.
No more, I assure you! Such a
thing was never seen before,
it was just like a field when
the corn is cut, with a man lying
there for every ear of corn.
That sobered the rest of us.
The Man comes, and we make a
circle round about him, and he
coaxes us round (for he could
be very nice when he chose),
and persuades us to dine with
Duke Humphrey, when we were hungry
as hunters. Then our consoler
distributes the Crosses of the
Legion of Honor himself, salutes
the dead, and says to us, 'On
to Moscow!'
" 'To Moscow,
so be it,' says the army.
"We take Moscow.
What do the Russians do but
set fire to their
city! There was a blaze, two
leagues of bonfire that burned
for two days! The buildings fell
about our ears like slates, and
molten lead and iron came down
in showers; it was really horrible;
it was a light to see our sorrows
by, I can tell you! The Emperor
said, 'There, that is enough
of this sort of thing; all my
men shall stay here.'
"We amuse ourselves
for a bit by recruiting and
repairing our
frames, for we really were much
fatigued by the campaign. We
take away with us a gold cross
from the top of the Kremlin,
and every soldier had a little
fortune. But on the way back
the winter came down on us a
month earlier than usual, a matter
which the learned (like a set
of fools) have never sufficiently
explained; and we are nipped
with the cold. We were no longer
an army after that, do you understand?
There was an end of generals
and even of the sergeants; hunger
and misery took the command instead,
and all of us were absolutely
equal under their reign. All
we thought of was how to get
back to France; no one stooped
to pick up his gun or his money;
every one walked straight before
him, and armed himself as he
thought fit, and no one cared
about glory.
"The Emperor saw nothing of
his star all the time, for the
weather was so bad. There was
some misunderstanding between
him and heaven. Poor man, how
bad he felt when he saw his Eagles
flying with their backs turned
on victory! That was really too
rough! Well, the next thing is
the Beresina. And here and now,
my friends, any one can assure
you on his honor, and by all
that is sacred, that NEVER, no,
never since there have been men
on earth, never in this world
has there been such a fricasse
of an army, caissons, transports,
artillery and all, in such snow
as that and under such a pitiless
sky. It was so cold that you
burned your hand on the barrel
of your gun if you happened to
touch it. There it was that the
pontooners saved the army, for
the pontooners stood firm at
their posts; it was there that
Gondrin behaved like a hero,
and he is the sole survivor of
all the men who were dogged enough
to stand in the river so as to
build the bridges on which the
army crossed over, and so escaped
the Russians, who still respected
the Grand Army on account of
its past victories. And Gondrin
is an accomplished soldier," he
went on, pointing to his friend,
who was gazing at him with the
rapt attention peculiar to deaf
people, "a distinguished soldier
who deserves to have your very
highest esteem.
"I saw the Emperor standing
by the bridge," he went on, "and
never feeling the cold at all.
Was that, again, a natural thing?
He was looking on at the loss
of his treasures, of his friends,
and those who had fought with
him in Egypt. Bah! there was
an end of everything. Women and
wagons and guns were all engulfed
and swallowed up, everything
went to wreck and ruin. A few
of the bravest among us saved
the Eagles, for the Eagles, look
you, meant France, and all the
rest of you; it was the civil
and military honor of France
that was in our keeping, there
must be no spot on the honor
of France, and the cold could
never make her bow her head.
There was no getting warm except
in the neighborhood of the Emperor;
for whenever he was in danger
we hurried up, all frozen as
we were--we who would not stop
to hold out a hand to a fallen
friend.
"They say,
too, that he shed tears of
a night over his poor
family of soldiers. Only he and
Frenchmen could have pulled themselves
out of such a plight; but we
did pull ourselves out, though,
as I am telling you, it was with
loss, ay, and heavy loss. The
Allies had eaten up all our provisions;
everybody began to betray him,
just as the Red Man had foretold.
The rattle-pates in Paris, who
had kept quiet ever since the
Imperial Guard had been established,
think that HE is dead, and hatch
a conspiracy. They set to work
in the Home Office to overturn
the Emperor. These things come
to his knowledge and worry him;
he says to us at parting, 'Good-bye,
children; keep to your posts,
I will come back again.'
"Bah! Those
generals of his lose their
heads at once; for
when he was away, it was not
like the same thing. The marshals
fall out among themselves, and
make blunders, as was only natural,
for Napoleon in his kindness
had fed them on gold till they
had grown as fat as butter, and
they had no mind to march. Troubles
came of this, for many of them
stayed inactive in garrison towns
in the rear, without attempting
to tickle up the backs of the
enemy behind us, and we were
being driven back on France.
But Napoleon comes back among
us with fresh troops; conscripts
they were, and famous conscripts
too; he had put some thorough
notions of discipline into them--the
whelps were good to set their
teeth in anybody. He had a bourgeois
guard of honor too, and fine
troops they were! They melted
away like butter on a gridiron.
We may put a bold front on it,
but everything is against us,
although the army still performs
prodigies of valor. Whole nations
fought against nations in tremendous
battles, at Dresden, Lutzen,
and Bautzen, and then it was
that France showed extraordinary
heroism, for you must all of
you bear in mind that in those
times a stout grenadier only
lasted six months.
"We always
won the day, but the English
were always on our
track, putting nonsense into
other nations' heads, and stirring
them up to revolt. In short,
we cleared a way through all
these mobs of nations; for wherever
the Emperor appeared, we made
a passage for him; for on the
land as on the sea, whenever
he said, 'I wish to go forward,'
we made the way.
"There comes
a final end to it at last.
We are back in France;
and in spite of the bitter weather,
it did one's heart good to breathe
one's native air again, it set
up many a poor fellow; and as
for me, it put new life into
me, I can tell you. But it was
a question all at once of defending
France, our fair land of France.
All Europe was up in arms against
us; they took it in bad part
that we had tried to keep the
Russians in order by driving
them back within their own borders,
so that they should not gobble
us up, for those Northern folk
have a strong liking for eating
up the men of the South, it is
a habit they have; I have heard
the same thing of them from several
generals.
"So the Emperor
finds his own father-in-law,
his friends whom
he had made crowned kings, and
the rabble of princes to whom
he had given back their thrones,
were all against him. Even Frenchmen
and allies in our own ranks turned
against us, by orders from high
quarters, as at Leipsic. Common
soldiers would hardly be capable
of such abominations; yet these
princes, as they called themselves,
broke their words three times
a day! The next thing they do
is to invade France. Wherever
our Emperor shows his lion's
face, the enemy beats a retreat;
he worked more miracles for the
defence of France than he had
ever wrought in the conquest
of Italy, the East, Spain, Europe,
and Russia; he has a mind to
bury every foreigner in French
soil, to give them a respect
for France, so he lets them come
close up to Paris, so as to do
for them at a single blow, and
to rise to the highest height
of genius in the biggest battle
that ever was fought, a mother
of battles! But the Parisians
wanting to save their trumpery
skins, and afraid for their twopenny
shops, open their gates and there
is a beginning of the ragusades,
and an end of all joy and happiness;
they make a fool of the Empress,
and fly the white flag out at
the windows. The Emperor's closest
friends among his generals forsake
him at last and go over to the
Bourbons, of whom no one had
ever heard tell. Then he bids
us farewell at Fontainbleau:
" 'Soldiers!'
. . . (I can hear him yet,
we were all crying
just like children; the Eagles
and the flags had been lowered
as if for a funeral. Ah! and
it was a funeral, I can tell
you; it was the funeral of the
Empire; those smart armies of
his were nothing but skeletons
now.) So he stood there on the
flight of steps before his chateau,
and he said:
" 'Children,
we have been overcome by treachery,
but we shall meet
again up above in the country
of the brave. Protect my child,
I leave him in your care. LONG
LIVE NAPOLEON II.!'
"He had thought
of killing himself, so that
no one should
behold Napoleon after his defeat;
like Jesus Christ before the
Crucifixion, he thought himself
forsaken by God and by his talisman,
and so he took enough poison
to kill a regiment, but it had
no effect whatever upon him.
Another marvel! he discovered
that he was immortal; and feeling
sure of his case, and knowing
that he would be Emperor for
ever, he went to an island for
a little while, so as to study
the dispositions of those folk
who did not fail to make blunder
upon blunder. Whilst he was biding
his time, the Chinese and the
brutes out in Africa, the Moors
and what-not, awkward customers
all of them, were so convinced
that he was something more than
mortal, that they respected his
flag, saying that God would be
displeased if any one meddled
with it. So he reigned over all
the rest of the world, although
the doors of his own France had
been closed upon him.
"Then he goes
on board the same nutshell
of a skiff that
he sailed in from Egypt, passes
under the noses of the English
vessels, and sets foot in France.
France recognizes her Emperor,
the cuckoo flits from steeple
to steeple; France cries with
one voice, 'Long live the Emperor!'
The enthusiasm for that Wonder
of the Ages was thoroughly genuine
in these parts. Dauphine behaved
handsomely; and I was uncommonly
pleased to learn that people
here shed tears of joy on seeing
his gray overcoat once more.
"It was on
March 1st that Napoleon set
out with two hundred men
to conquer the kingdom of France
and Navarre, which by March 20th
had become the French Empire
again. On that day he found himself
in Paris, and a clean sweep had
been made of everything; he had
won back his beloved France,
and had called all his soldiers
about him again, and three words
of his had done it all--'Here
am I!' 'Twas the greatest miracle
God ever worked! Was it ever
known in the world before that
a man should do nothing but show
his hat, and a whole Empire became
his? They fancied that France
was crushed, did they? Never
a bit of it. A National Army
springs up again at the sight
of the Eagle, and we all march
to Waterloo. There the Guard
fall all as one man. Napoleon
in his despair heads the rest,
and flings himself three times
on the enemy's guns without finding
the death he sought; we all saw
him do it, we soldiers, and the
day was lost! That night the
Emperor calls all his old soldiers
about him, and there on the battlefield,
which was soaked with our blood,
he burns his flags and his Eagles--the
poor Eagles that had never been
defeated, that had cried, 'Forward!'
in battle after battle, and had
flown above us all over Europe.
That was the end of the Eagles--all
the wealth of England could not
purchase for her one tail-feather.
The rest is sufficiently known.
"The Red Man
went over to the Bourbons like
the low scoundrel
he is. France is prostrate, the
soldier counts for nothing, they
rob him of his due, send him
about his business, and fill
his place with nobles who could
not walk, they were so old, so
that it made you sorry to see
them. They seize Napoleon by
treachery, the English shut him
up on a desert island in the
ocean, on a rock ten thousand
feet above the rest of the world.
That is the final end of it;
there he has to stop till the
Red Man gives him back his power
again, for the happiness of France.
A lot of them say that he is
dead! Dead? Oh! yes, very likely.
They do not know him, that is
plain! They go on telling that
fib to deceive the people, and
to keep things quiet for their
tumble-down government. Listen;
this is the whole truth of the
matter. His friends have left
him alone in the desert to fulfil
a prophecy that was made about
him, for I forgot to tell you
that his name Napoleon really
means the LION OF THE DESERT.
And that is gospel truth. You
will hear plenty of other things
said about the Emperor, but they
are all monstrous nonsense. Because,
look you, to no man of woman
born would God have given the
power to write his name in red,
as he did, across the earth,
where he will be remembered for
ever! . . . Long live 'Napoleon,
the father of the soldier, the
father of the people!' "
"Long live General Eble!" cried
the pontooner.
"How did you manage not to
die in the gorge of the redoubts
at Borodino?" asked a peasant
woman.
"Do I know?
we were a whole regiment when
we went down into
it, and only a hundred foot were
left standing; only infantry
could have carried it; for the
infantry, look you, is everything
in an army----"
"But how about the cavalry?" cried
Genestas, slipping down out of
the hay in a sudden fashion that
drew a startled cry from the
boldest.
"He, old boy!
you are forgetting Poniatowski's
Red Lancers, the
Cuirassiers, the Dragoons, and
the whole boiling. Whenever Napoleon
grew tired of seeing his battalions
gain no ground towards the end
of a victory, he would say to
Murat, 'Here, you! cut them in
two for me!' and we set out first
at a trot, and then at a gallop,
ONE, TWO! and cut a way clean
through the ranks of the enemy;
it was like slicing an apple
in two with a knife. Why, a charge
of cavalry is nothing more nor
less than a column of cannon
balls."
"And how about the pontooners?" cried
the deaf veteran.
"There, there! my children," Genestas
went on, repenting in his confusion
of the sally he had made, when
he found himself in the middle
of a silent and bewildered group, "there
are no agents of police spying
here! Here, drink to the Little
Corporal with this!"
"Long live the Emperor!" all
cried with one voice.
"Hush! children," said the
officer, concealing his own deep
sorrow with an effort. "Hush!
HE IS DEAD. He died saying, GLORY,
FRANCE, AND BATTLE,' So it had
to be, children, he must die;
but his memory-- never!"
Goguelat made
an incredulous gesture, then
he whispered to
those about him, "The officer
is still in the service, and
orders have been issued that
they are to tell the people that
the Emperor is dead. You must
not think any harm of him because,
after all, a soldier must obey
orders."
As Genestas
went out of the barn, he heard
La Fosseuse say, "That
officer, you know, is M. Benassis'
friend, and a friend of the Emperor's."
Every soul in the barn rushed
to the door to see the commandant
again; they saw him in the moonlight,
as he took the doctor's arm.
"It was a stupid thing to do," said
Genestas. "Quick! let us go into
the house. Those Eagles, cannon,
and campaigns! . . . I had quite
forgotten where I was."
"Well, what do you think of
our Goguelat?" asked Benassis.
"So long as
such stories are told in France,
sir, she will
always find the fourteen armies
of the Republic within her, at
need; and her cannon will be
perfectly able to keep up a conversation
with the rest of Europe. That
is what I think."
A few moments later they reached
Benassis' dwelling, and soon
were sitting on either side of
the hearth in the salon; the
dying fire in the grate still
sent up a few sparks now and
then. Each was absorbed in thought.
Genestas was hesitating to ask
one last question. In spite of
the marks of confidence that
he had received, he feared lest
the doctor should regard his
inquiry as indiscreet. He looked
searchingly at Benassis more
than once; and an answering smile,
full of a kindly cordiality,
such as lights up the faces of
men of real strength of character,
seemed to give him in advance
the favorable reply for which
he sought. So he spoke:
"Your life,
sir, is so different from the
lives of ordinary men,
that you will not be surprised
to hear me ask you the reason
of your retired existence. My
curiosity may seem to you to
be unmannerly, but you will admit
that it is very natural. Listen
a moment: I have had comrades
with whom I have never been on
intimate terms, even though I
have made many campaigns with
them; but there have been others
to whom I would say, 'Go to the
paymaster and draw our money,'
three days after we had got drunk
together, a thing that will happen,
for the quietest folk must have
a frolic fit at times. Well,
then, you are one of those people
whom I take for a friend without
waiting to ask leave, nay, without
so much as knowing wherefore."
"Captain Bluteau----"
Whenever the doctor had called
his guest by his assumed name,
the latter had been unable for
some time past to suppress a
slight grimace. Benassis, happening
to look up just then, caught
this expression of repugnance;
he sought to discover the reason
of it, and looked full into the
soldier's face, but the real
enigma was well-nigh insoluble
for him, so he set down these
symptoms to physical suffering
and went on:
"Captain, I
am about to speak of myself.
I have had to force
myself to do so already several
times since yesterday, while
telling you about the improvements
that I have managed to introduce
here; but it was a question of
the interests of the people and
the commune, with which mine
are necessarily bound up. But,
now, if I tell you my story,
I should have to speak wholly
of myself, and mine has not been
a very interesting life."
"If it were as uneventful as
La Fosseuse's life," answered
Genestas, "I should still be
glad to know about it; I should
like to know the untoward events
that could bring a man of your
calibre into this canton."
"Captain, for
these twelve years I have lived
in silence;
and now, as I wait at the brink
of the grave for the stroke that
will cast me into it, I will
candidly own to you that this
silence is beginning to weigh
heavily upon me. I have borne
my sorrows alone for twelve years;
I have had none of the comfort
that friendship gives in such
full measure to a heart in pain.
My poor sick folk and my peasants
certainly set me an example of
unmurmuring resignation; but
they know that I at least understand
them and their troubles, while
there is not a soul here who
knows of the tears that I have
shed, no one to give me the hand-clasp
of a comrade, the noblest reward
of all, a reward that falls to
the lot of every other; even
Gondrin has not missed that."
Genestas held out his hand,
a sudden impulsive movement by
which Benassis was deeply touched.
"There is La Fosseuse," he
went on in a different voice; "she
perhaps would have understood
as the angels might; but then,
too, she might possibly have
loved me, and that would have
been a misfortune. Listen, captain,
my confession could only be made
to an old soldier who looks as
leniently as you do on the failings
of others, or to some young man
who has not lost the illusions
of youth; for only a man who
knows life well, or a lad to
whom it is all unknown, could
understand my story. The captains
of past times who fell upon the
field of battle used to make
their last confession to the
cross on the hilt of their sword;
if there was no priest at hand,
it was the sword that received
and kept the last confidences
between a human soul and God.
And will you hear and understand
me, for you are one of Napoleon's
finest sword-blades, as thoroughly
tempered and as strong as steel?
Some parts of my story can only
be understood by a delicate tenderness,
and through a sympathy with the
beliefs that dwell in simple
hearts; beliefs which would seem
absurd to the sophisticated people
who make use in their own lives
of the prudential maxims of worldly
wisdom that only apply to the
government of states. To you
I shall speak openly and without
reserve, as a man who does not
seek to apologize for his life
with the good and evil done in
the course of it; as one who
will hide nothing from you, because
he lives so far from the world
of to-day, careless of the judgements
of man, and full of hope in God."
Benassis stopped,
rose to his feet, and said, "Before
I begin my story, I will order
tea. Jacquotte
has never missed asking me if
I will take it for these twelve
years past, and she will certainly
interrupt us. Do you care about
it, captain?"
"No, thank
you."
In another moment Benassis
returned.
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