The whole way I thought of nothing but the cuirassiers. This order to
march immediately appeared to me to betoken no good: something serious
must have occurred; and as, upon the stroke of eleven, I was putting my
horses up, after having put my cart under its shed, the idea came into
my head that it was time now to hide my money. I was bringing back
from Saverne sixteen hundred livres: this heavy leathern purse in my
pocket was perhaps what reminded me. I remembered what Cousin George
had said about Uhlans and other scamps of that sort, and I felt a cold
shiver come over me.
Having, then, gone upstairs very softly, I awoke my wife: "Get up,
Catherine."
"What is the matter?"
"Get up: it is time to hide our money."
"But what is going on?"
"Nothing. Be quiet--make no noise--Gredel is asleep. You will carry
the basket: put into it your ring and your ear-rings, everything that
we have got. You hear me! I am going to empty the ditch, and we will
bury everything at the bottom of it."
Then, without answering, she arose.
I went down to the mill, opened the back-door softly, and listened.
Nothing was stirring in the village; you might have heard a cat moving.
The mill had stopped, and the water was pretty high. I lifted the
mill-dam, the water began to rush, boiling, down the gulley; but our
neighbors were used to this noise even in their sleep, so all remained
quiet.
Then I went in again, and I was busy emptying into a corner the little
box of oak in which I kept my tools--the pincers, the hammer, the
screw-driver, and the nails, when my wife, in her slippers, came
downstairs. She had the basket under her arm, and was carrying the
lighted lantern. I blew it out in a moment, thinking: Never was a
woman such a fool.
Downstairs I asked Catherine if everything was in the basket.
"Yes."
"Right. But I have brought from Saverne sixteen hundred francs: the
wheat and the flour sold well."
I had put some bran into the box; everything was carefully laid in the
bottom; and then I put on a padlock, and we went out, after having
looked to see if all was quiet in the neighborhood. The sluice was
already almost empty; there was only one or two feet of water. I
cleared away the few stones which kept the rest of the water from
running out, and went into it with my spade and pickaxe as far as just
beneath the dam, where I began to make a deep hole; the water was
hindering me, but it was flowing still.
Catherine, above, was keeping watch: sometimes she gave a low "Hush!"
Then we listened, but it was nothing--the mewing of a cat, the noise of
the running water--and I went on digging. If anyone had had the
misfortune to surprise us, I should have been capable of doing him a
mischief. Happily no one came; and about two o'clock in the morning
the hole was three or four feet deep. I let down the box, and laid it
down level, first stamping soil down upon it with my heavy shoes, then
gravel, then large stones, then sand; the mud would cover all over of
itself: there is always plenty of mud in a millstream.
After this I came out again covered with mud. I shut down the dam, and
the water began to rise. About three o'clock, at the dawn of day, the
sluice was almost full. I could have begun grinding again; and nobody
would ever have imagined that in this great whirling stream, nine feet
under water and three feet under ground, lay a snug little square box
of oak, clamped with iron, with a good padlock on it, and more than
four thousand livres inside. I chuckled inwardly, and said: "Now let
the rascals come!"
And Catherine was well pleased too. But about four, just as I was
going up to bed again, comes Gredel, pale with alarm, crying: "Where is
the money!"
She had seen the cupboard open and the basket empty. Never had she had
such a fright in her life before. Thinking that her marriage-portion
was gone, her ragged hair stood upon end; she was as pale as a sheet.
"Be quiet," I said, "the money is in a safe place."
"Where?"
"It is hidden."
"Where?"
She looked as if she was going to seize me by the collar, but her
mother said to her: "That is no business of yours."
Then she became furious, and said, that if we came to die, she would
not know where to find her marriage-portion.
This quarrelling annoyed me, and I said to her: "We are not going to
die; on the contrary, we shall live a long while yet, to prevent you
and your Jean Baptiste from inheriting our goods."
And thereupon I went to bed, leaving Gredel and her mother to come to a
settlement together.
All I can say is that girls, when they have got anything into their
heads, become too bold with their parents, and all the excellent
training they have had ends in nothing. Thank God, I had nothing to
reproach myself with on that score, nor her mother either. Gredel had
had four times as many blows as Jacob, because she deserved it, on
account of her wanting to keep everything, putting it all into her own
cupboard, and saying, "There, that's mine!"
Yes, indeed, she had had plenty of correction of that kind: but you
cannot beat a girl of twenty: you cannot correct girls at that age; and
that was just my misfortune: it ought to go on forever!
Well, it can't be helped.
She upset the house and rummaged the mill from top to bottom, she
visited the garden, and her mother said to her, "You see, we have got
it in a safe place; since you cannot find it, the Uhlans won't."
I remember that just as we were going up to sleep, that day, the 5th of
August, early in the morning, Catherine and I had seen Cousin George in
his char-a-banc coming down the valley of Dosenheim, and it seemed to
us that he was out very early. The village was waking up; other
people, too, were going to work: I lay down, and about eight o'clock my
wife woke me to tell me that the postman, Michel, was there. I came
down, and saw Michel standing in our parlor with his letter-bag under
his arm. He was thoughtful, and told me that the worst reports were
abroad; that they were speaking of the great battle near Wissembourg,
where we had been defeated; that several maintained that we had lost
ten thousand men, and the Germans seventeen thousand; but that there
was nothing certain, because it was not known whence these rumors
proceeded, only that the commanding officer of Phalsbourg, Taillant,
had proclaimed that morning that the inhabitants would be obliged to
lay in provisions for six weeks. Naturally, such a proclamation set
people a-thinking, and they said: "Have we a siege before us? Have we
gone back to the times of the great retreat and downfall of the first
Emperor? Ought things forever to end in the same fashion?"
My wife, Gredel, and I, stood listening to Michel, with lips
compressed, without interrupting him.
"And you, Michel," said I, when he had done, "what do you think of it
all?"
"Monsieur le Maire, I am a poor postman; I want my place; and if my
five hundred francs a year were taken from me, what would become of my
wife and children?"
Then I saw that he considered our prospects were not good. He handed
me a letter from Monsieur le Sous-prefet--it was the last--telling me
to watch false reports; that false news should be severely punished, by
order of our prefet, Monsieur Podevin.
We could have wished no better than that the news had been false! But
at that time, everything that displeased the sous-prefets, the prefets,
the Ministers, and the Emperor, was false, and everything that pleased
them, everything that helped to deceive people--like that peaceful
Plebiscite--was truth!
Let us change the subject: the thought of these things turns me sick!
Michel went away, and all that day might be noticed a stir of
excitement in our village; men coming and going, women watching, people
going into the wood, each with a bag, spade, and pickaxe; stables
clearing out; a great movement, and all faces full of care: I have
always thought that at that moment every one was hiding, burying
anything he could hide or bury. I was sorry I had not begun to sell my
corn sooner, when my cousin had cautioned me a week before; but my
duties as mayor had prevented me: we must pay for our honors. I had
still four cart-loads of corn in my barn--now where could I put them?
And the cattle, and the furniture, the bedding, provisions of every
sort? Never will our people forget those days, when every one was
expecting, listening, and saying: "We are like the bird upon the twig.
We have toiled, and sweated, and saved for fifty years, to get a little
property of our own; to-morrow shall we have anything left? And next
week, next month--shall we not be starving to death? And in those days
of distress, shall we be able to borrow a couple of liards upon our
land, or our house? Who will lend to us? And all this on account of
whom? Scoundrels who have taken us in."
Ah! if there is any justice above, as every honest man believes, these
abominable fellows will have a heavy reckoning to pay. So many
miserable men, women, children await them there; they are there to
demand satisfaction for all their sufferings. Yes, I believe it. But
they--oh! they believe in nothing! There are, indeed, dreadful
brigands in this world!
All that day was spent thus, in weariness and anxiety. Nothing was
known. We questioned the people who were coming from Dosenheim,
Neuviller, or from farther still, but they gave no answer but this:
"Make your preparations! The enemy is advancing!"
And then my stupid fool of a deputy, Placiard, who for fifteen years
did nothing but cry for tobacco licenses, stamp offices, promotion for
his sons, for his son-in-law, and even for himself--a sort of beggar,
who spent his life in drawing up petitions and denunciations--he came
into the mill, saying, "Monsieur le Maire, everything is going on
well--camarche--the enemy are being drawn into the plain: they are
coming into the net. To-morrow we shall hear that they are all
exterminated, every one!"
And the municipal councillors, Arnold, Frantz, Sepel, Baptiste Dida,
the wood-monger, came crowding in, saying that the enemy must be
exterminated; that fire must be set to the forest of Haguenau to roast
them, and so on! Every one had his own plan. What fools men can be!
But the worst of it was when my wife, having learned from Michel the
proclamations in the town, went up into our bacon stores, to send a few
provisions to Jacob; and she perceived our two best hams were missing,
with a pig's cheek, and some sausages which had been smoked weeks.
Then you should have seen her flying down the stairs, declaring that
the house was full of thieves; that there was no trusting anybody; and
Gredel, crying louder than she, that surely Frantz, that thief of a
Badener, had made off with them. But mother had visited the bacon-room
a couple of days after Frantz had left; she had seen that everything
was straight; and her wrath redoubled.
Then said Gredel that perhaps Jacob, before leaving home, had put the
hams into his bag with all the rest; but mother screamed, "It is a
falsehood! I should have seen it. Jacob has never taken anything
without asking for it. He is an honest lad."
The clatter of the mill was music compared to this uproar: I could have
wished to take to flight.
About seven my cousin came back upon his char-a-banc. He was returning
from Alsace; and I immediately ran into his house to hear what news he
had. George, in his large parlor, was pulling off his boots and
putting on his blouse when I entered.
"Is that you, Christian?" said he. "Is your money safe?"
"Yes."
"Very well. I have just heard fine news at Bouxviller. Our affairs
are in splendid order! We have famous generals! Oh, yes! here is
rather a queer beginning; and, if matters go on in this way, we shall
come to a remarkable end."
His wife, Marie Anne, was coming in from the kitchen: she set upon the
table a leg of mutton, bread, and wine. George sat down, and whilst
eating, told me that two regiments of the line, a regiment of Turcos, a
battalion of light infantry, and a regiment of light horse, with three
guns, had been posted in advance of Wissembourg, and that they were
there quietly bathing in the Lauter, and washing their clothes, right
in front of fifty thousand Germans, hidden in the woods; not to mention
eighty thousand more on our right, who were only waiting for a good
opportunity to cross the Rhine. They had been posted, as it were, in
the very jaws of a wolf, which had only to give a snap to catch them,
every one--and this had not failed to take place!
The Germans had surprised our small army corps the morning before;
fierce encounters had taken place in the vines around Wissembourg; our
men were short of artillery; the Turcos, the light-armed men, and the
line had fought like lions, one to six: they had even taken eight guns
in the beginning of the action; but German supports coming up in heavy
masses had at last cut them to pieces; they had bombarded Wissembourg,
and set fire to the town; only a few of our men had been able to
retreat to the cover of the woods of Bitche going up the Vosse. It was
said that a general had been killed, and that villages were lying in
ruins.
It was at Bouxviller that my cousin had heard of this disaster, some of
the light horsemen having arrived the same evening. There was also a
talk of deserters; as if soldiers, after being routed, without
knowledge of a woody country full of mountains, going straight before
them to escape from the enemy, should be denounced as deserters. This
is one of the abominations that we have seen since that time. Many
heartless people preferred crying out that these poor soldiers had
deserted rather than give them bread and wine: it was more convenient,
and cheaper.
"Now," said George, "all the army of Strasbourg, and that of the
interior, who should have been in perfect order, fresh, rested, and
provided with everything at Haguenau, but the rear of which is still
lagging behind on the railways as far as Luneville; all these are
running down there, to check the invasion. Fourteen regiments of
cavalry, principally cuirassiers and chasseurs, are assembling at
Brumath. Something is expected there; MacMahon is already on the
heights of Reichshoffen, with the commander of engineers, Mohl, of
Haguenau, and other staff officers, to select his position. As fast as
the troops arrive they extend before Mederbronn. I heard this from
some people who were flying with wives and children, their beds and
other chattels on carts, as I was leaving Bouxviller about three
o'clock. They wanted to reach the fort of Petite Pierre; but hearing
that the fort is occupied by a company, they have moved toward
Strasbourg. I think they were right. A great city, like Strasbourg,
has always more resources than a small place, where they have only a
few palisades stuck up to hide fifty men."
This was what Cousin George had learned that very day.
Hearing him speak, my first thought was to run to the mill, load as
much furniture as I could upon two wagons, and drive at once to
Phalsbourg; but my cousin told me that the gates would be closed; that
we should have to wait outside until the reopening of the barriers, and
that we must hope that it would be time enough to-morrow.
According to him, the great battle would not be fought for two or three
days yet, because a great number of Germans had yet to cross the river,
and they would, no doubt, be opposed. It is true that the fifty
thousand men who had made themselves masters of Wissembourg might
descend the Sauer; but then we should be nearly equal, and it was to
the interest of the Germans only to fight when they were three to one.
George had heard some officers discussing this point at the inn, in the
presence of many listeners, and he believed, according to this, that
the 5th army corps, which was extending in the direction of Metz, by
Bitche and Sarreguemines, under the orders of General de Failly, would
have time to arrive and support MacMahon. I thought so, too: it seemed
a matter of course.
We talked over these miseries till nine o'clock. My wife and Gredel
had come to carry their quarrels even to my Cousin Marie Anne's, who
said to them: "Oh! do try to be reasonable. What matter two or three
hams, Catherine? Perhaps you will soon be glad to know that they have
done good to Jacob, instead of seeing them eaten up by Uhlans under
your own eyes."
You may be sure that my wife did not agree with this. But at ten
o'clock, Cousin Marie Anne, full of thought, having said that her
husband was tired and that he had need of rest, we left, after having
wished him good-evening, and we returned home.
That night--if my wife had not awoke from time to time, to tell me that
we were robbed, that the thieves were taking everything from us, and
that we should be ruined at last--I should have slept very well; but
there seemed no end to her worrying, and I saw that she suspected
Gredel of having given the hams to Michel for Jean Baptiste Werner,
without, however, daring to say so much. I was thinking of other
things, and was glad to see her go down in the morning to attend to her
kitchen; not till then did I get an hour or two of sleep.
The next day all was quiet in the village; everybody had hid his
valuables, and they only feared one thing, and that was a sortie from
Phalsbourg to carry off our cattle. All the children were set to watch
in the direction of Wechem; and if anything had stirred in that
quarter, all the cattle would have been driven into the woods in ten
minutes.
But there was no movement. All the soldiers of the line had gone, and
the commanding officer, Taillant, could not send the lads of our
village to carry away their own parents' cattle. So all this day, the
10th of August, was quiet enough in our mountains.
About twelve o'clock some wood-cutters of Krappenfelz came to tell us
that they could hear cannon on the heights of the Falberg, in the
direction of Alsace; but they were not believed, and it was said:
"These are inventions to frighten us." For many people take a pleasure
in frightening others.
All was quiet until about ten o'clock at night. It was very warm; I
was sitting on a bench before my mill, in my shirt-sleeves, thinking of
all my troubles. From time to time a thick cloud overshadowed the
moon, which had not happened for a long time, and rain was hoped for.
Gredel was washing the plates and dishes in the kitchen; my wife was
trotting up and down, peeping into the cupboards to see if anything
else had been stolen besides her hams; in the village, windows and
shutters were closing one after another; and I was going up to bed too,
when a kind of a rumor rose from the wood and attracted my attention;
it was a distant murmuring; something was galloping there, carts were
rolling, a gust of wind was passing. What could it be? My wife and
Gredel had gone out, and were listening too. At that moment, from the
other end of the village, arose a dispute which prevented us from
making out this noise any longer, which was approaching from the
mountain, and I said to Catherine: "The drunkards at the 'Cruchon d'Or'
begin these disturbances every night. I must put an end to that, for
it is a disgrace to the parish."
But I had scarcely said this when a crowd of people appeared in the
street opposite the mill, shouting, "A deserter! a deserter!"
And the shrill voice of my deputy Placiard rose above all the rest,
crying: "Take care of the horse! Mind you don't let him escape!"
A tall cuirassier was moving quietly in the midst of all this mob,
every man in which wanted to lay hold of him--one by the arm, another
by the collar. He was making no resistance, and his horse followed him
limping, and hanging his head; the _bangard_ was leading him by the
bridle.
Placiard then seeing me at the door, cried: "Monsieur le Maire, I bring
you a deserter, one of those who fled from Wissembourg, and who are now
prowling about the country to live and glut at the expense of the
country people. He is drunk even now. I caught him myself." All the
rest, men and women, shouted: "Shut him up in a stable! Send for the
gendarmes to fetch him away! Do this--do that"--and so on.
I was much astonished to see this fine tall fellow, with his helmet and
his cuirass, who could have shouldered his way in a minute through all
these people, going with them like a lamb. Cousin George had come up
at the same moment. We hardly knew what to do about this business, for
man and horse were standing there perfectly still, as if stupefied.
At last I felt I must say something, and I said: "Come in."
The _bangard_ tied up the horse to the ring in the barn, and we all
burst in a great crowd into my large parlor downstairs, slamming the
door in the face of all those brawlers who had nothing to do in the
house; but they remained outside, never ceasing for a moment to shout:
"A deserter!" And half the village was coming: in all directions you
could hear the wooden clogs clattering.
Once in the room, my wife fetched a candle from the kitchen. Then,
catching sight of this strong and square-built man, with his thick
mustaches, his tall figure, his sword at his side, his sleeves and his
cuirass stained with blood, and the skin on one side of his face torn
away and bruised all round to the back of the head, we saw at once that
he was not a deserter, and that something terrible had happened in our
neighborhood; and Placiard having again begun to tell us how he had
himself caught this soldier in his garden, where the poor wretch was
going to hide, George cried indignantly: "Come now, does a man like
that hide himself? I tell you, M. Placiard, that it would have taken
twenty like you to hold him, if he had chosen to resist."
The cuirassier then turned his head and gazed at George; but he spoke
not a word. He seemed to be mute with stupefaction.
"You have come from a fight, my friend, haven't you?" said my cousin,
gently.
"Yes, sir."
"So they have been fighting to-day?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
The cuirassier pointed in the direction of the Falberg, on the left by
the saw-mills. "Down there," he said, "behind the mountains."
"At Reichshoffen?"
"Yes, that is it: at Reichshoffen."
"This man is exhausted," said George: "Catherine, bring some wine." My
wife took the bottle out of the cupboard and filled a glass; but the
cuirassier would not drink: he looked on the ground before him, as if
something was before his eyes. What he had just told us made us turn
pale.
"And," said George, "the cuirassiers charged?"
"Yes," said the soldier, "all of them."
"Where is your regiment now?" He raised his head.
"My regiment? it is down there in the vineyards, amongst the hops, in
the river...."
"What! in the river?"
"Yes: there are no more cuirassiers!"
"No more cuirassiers?" cried my cousin; "the six regiments?"
"Yes, it is all over!" said the soldier, in a low voice: "the grapeshot
has mown them down. There are none left!"
[Illustration: "THE GRAPESHOT HAS MOWN THEM DOWN. THERE ARE NONE
LEFT!"]
"Oh!" cried Placiard, "now you see: what did I say? He is one of those
villains who propagate false reports. Can six regiments be mown down?
Did you not yourself say, Monsieur le Maire, that those six regiments
alone would bear down everything before them?"
I could answer nothing; but the perspiration ran down my face.
"You must lock him up somewhere, and let the gendarmes know," continued
Placiard. "Such are the orders of Monsieur le Sous-prefet."
The cuirassier wiped with his sleeves the blood which was trickling
upon his cheek; he appeared to hear nothing.
Out of all the open windows were leaning the forms of the village
people, with attentive ears.
George and I looked at each other in alarm.
"You have blood upon you," said my cousin, pointing to the soldier's
cuirass, who started and answered:
"Yes; that is the blood of a white lancer: I killed him!"
"And that wound upon your cheek?"
"That was given me with a sword handle. I got that from a Bavarian
officer--it stunned me--I could no longer see--my horse galloped away
with me."
"So you were hand-to-hand?"
"Yes, twice; we could not use our swords: the men caught hold of one
another, fought and killed one another with sword hilts."
Placiard was again going to begin his exclamations, when George became
furious: "Hold your tongue, you abominable toady! Are you not ashamed
of insulting a brave soldier, who has fought for his country?"
"Monsieur le Maire," cried Placiard, "will you suffer me to be insulted
under your roof while I am fulfilling my duties as deputy?"
I was much puzzled: but George, looking angrily at him, was going to
answer for me; when a loud cry arose outside in the midst of a furious
clattering of horses: a terrible cry, which pierced to the very marrow
of our bones.
"The Prussians! The Prussians!"
At the same moment a troop of disbanded horsemen were flying past our
windows at full speed: they flashed past us like lightning; the crowd
fell back; the women screamed: "Lord have mercy upon us! we are all
lost!"
After these cries, and the passage of these men, I stood as if rooted
to the floor, listening to what was going on outside; but in another
minute all was silence. Turning round, I saw that everybody,
neighbors, men and women, Placiard, the rural policeman, all had
slipped out behind. Gredel, my wife, George, the cuirassier, and
myself, stood alone in the room. My cousin said to me: "This man has
told you the truth; the great battle has been fought and lost to-day!
These are the first fugitives who have just passed. Now is the time
for calmness and courage; let everybody be prepared: we are going to
witness terrible things."
And turning to the soldier: "You may go, my friend," he said, "your
horse is there; but if you had rather stay----"
"No; I will not be made prisoner!"
"Then come, I will put you on the way."
We went out together. The horse before the barn had not moved; I
helped the cuirassier to mount: George said to him: "Here, on the
right, is the road to Metz; on the left to Phalsbourg; at Phalsbourg,
by going to the right, you will be on the road to Paris."
And the horse began to walk, dragging itself painfully. Then only did
we see that a shred of flesh was hanging down its leg, and that it had
lost a great deal of blood. My cousin followed, forgetting to say
good-night. Was it possible to sleep after that?
From time to time during the night horsemen rode past at the gallop.
Once, at daybreak, I went to the mill-dam, to look down the valley;
they were coming out of the woods by fives, sixes, and tens, leaping
out of the hedges, smashing the young trees; instead of following the
road, they passed through the fields, crossed the river, and rode up
the hill in front, without troubling about the corps. There seemed no
end of them!
About six the bells began to ring for matins. It was Sunday, the 7th
August, 1870; the weather was magnificent. Monsieur le Cure crossed
the street at nine, to go to church, but only a few old women attended
the service to pray.
Then commenced the endless passage of the defeated army retreating upon
Sarrebourg, down the valley; a spectacle of desolation such as I shall
never forget in my life. Hundreds of men who could scarcely be
recognized as Frenchmen were coming up in disordered bands; cavalry,
infantry, cuirassiers without cuirasses, horsemen on foot, foot
soldiers on horseback, three-fourths unarmed! Crowds of men without
officers, all going straight on in silence.
What has always surprised me is that no officers were to be seen. What
had become of them? I cannot say.
No more singing. No more cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" "A Berlin! a
Berlin!"
Dismay and discouragement were manifest in every countenance.
Those who shall come after will see worse things than this: since men
are wolves, foxes, hawks, owls, all this must come round again: a
hundred times, a thousand times; from age to age, until the
consummation of time: it is the glory of kings and emperors passing by!
They all cry, "Jesus, have pity upon us, miserable sinners! Jesus,
Saviour, bless us!"
But all this time they are hard at work with the hooked bill and the
sharp claws upon the unhappy carcass of mankind. Each tears away his
morsel! And yet they all have faith, Lutherans and Catholics: they are
all worthy people! And so on forever.
Thus passed our army after the battle of Reichshoffen; and the others
the Germans were following: they were at Haguenau, at Tugwiller, at
Bouxviller; they were advancing from Dosenheim, to enter our valley;
very soon we were to see them!