About the end of November there happened an extraordinary thing, of
which I must give you an account.
On the first fall of snow, our Landwehr had built on the hill, in the
rear of their guns, huts of considerable size, covered with earth, open
to the south and closed against the north wind. Under these they
lighted great fires, and every hour relieved guard.
They had also received from home immense packages of warm clothing,
blankets, cloaks, shirts, and woollen stockings; they called these
love-gifts. Captain Floegel distributed these to his men, at his
discretion.
Now, it happened that one night, when the Landwehr lodging with us were
on guard, that I, knowing they would not return before day, had gone
down to shut the back door which opens upon the fields. The moon had
set, but the snow was shining white, streaked with the dark shadows of
the trees; and just as I was going to lock up, what do I see in my
orchard behind the large pear-tree on the left? A Turco with his
little red cap over his ear, his blue jacket corded and braided all
over, his belt and his gaiters. There he was, leaning in the attitude
of attention, the butt-end of his rifle resting on the ground, his eyes
glowing like those of a cat.
[Illustration: THERE HE WAS, LEANING FORWARD TO LISTEN.]
He heard the door open, and turned abruptly round.
Then, glad to see one of our own men again, I felt my heart beat, and
gazing stealthily round for fear of the neighbors, I signed to him to
draw near.
All were asleep in the village; no lights were shining at the windows.
He came down in four or five paces, clearing the fences at a bound, and
entered the mill.
Immediately I closed the door again, and said: "Good Frenchman?"
He pressed my hand in the dark, and followed me into the back room,
where my wife and Gredel were still sitting up.
Imagine their astonishment!
"Here is a man from the town," I said: "he's a real Turco. We shall
hear news."
At the same moment we observed that the Turco's bayonet was red, even
to the shank, and that the blood had even run down the barrel of his
rifle; but we said nothing.
This Turco was a fine man, dark brown, with a little curly beard, black
eyes, and white teeth, just as the apostles are painted. I have never
seen a finer man.
He was not sorry to feel the warmth of a good fire. Gredel having made
room for him, he took a seat, thanking her with a nod of his head, and
repeating: "Good Frenchman!"
I asked him if he was hungry; he said yes; and my wife immediately went
to fetch him a large basin of soup, which he enjoyed greatly. She gave
him also a good slice of bread and of beef; but instead of eating it he
dropped it into his bag, asking us for salt and tobacco.
He spoke as these people all do--thou-ing us. He even wanted to kiss
Gredel's hand. She blushed, and asked him, without any ceremony,
before our faces, if he knew Jean Baptiste Werner?
"Jean Baptiste!" said he. "Bastion No. 3--formerly African gunner.
Yes, I know him. Good man! brave Frenchman!"
"He is not wounded?"
"No."
"Not ill?"
"No."
Then Gredel began to cry in her apron; and mother asked the Turco if he
knew Jacob Weber, of the 3d company of Mobiles; but the Turco did not
know our Jacob; he could only tell us that the Mobiles had lost very
few men, which comforted my wife and me. Then he told us that a
captain in the Garde Mobile, a Jew named Cerfber, sent as a flag of
truce to Luetzelbourg, had taken the opportunity to desert, and that the
German general, being disgusted at his baseness, had refused to receive
him, upon which the wretch had gone into Germany. I was nowise
surprised at this. I knew Cerfber; he was mayor of Niederwillen, at
four leagues from us, and more Bonapartist than Bonaparte himself.
Unable to surrender the rest, as his master had done at Sedan, he had
surrendered himself.
Gredel had gone out while the Turco was telling us these news; she
returned presently with a large quantity of provisions. She had taken
all my tobacco, and begged the Turco to take it to Jean Baptiste and
Jacob. She had not quite the face to say before me that it was for
Jean Baptiste alone; that would have been going a little too far; but
she said, "It is for the two." The Turco promised to perform this
commission; then Gredel gave him several things for himself; but he
wanted especially salt, and fortunately we possessed enough to fill his
bag. My wife stood sentinel in the passage. Thank God there was no
stir for a whole hour; during which this Turco answered, as well as he
was able, all the questions we asked him.
We understood that there was much sickness in the town; that several
articles of consumption were utterly exhausted, among others, meat,
salt, and tobacco; and that the inhabitants were weary of being shut in
without any news from outside.
About one in the morning, the wind, having risen, was shaking the door,
and we fancied we could hear the Landwehr returning. The Turco noticed
it, and made signs to us that he would go.
We could have wished to detain him, but the danger was too great. He
therefore took up his rifle again, and asked to kiss my wife's hand,
just as the gypsies do in our country. Then pointing to his bag, he
said: "For Jacob and Jean Baptiste!"
I took him back through the orchard. The weather was frightful; the
air was full of snow, whirled into drifts by a stormy wind; but he knew
his way, and began by running with his body bending low as far as the
tall hedge on the left; a moment after he was out of sight. I listened
a long while. The watch-fires of the Landwehr were shining on the
hill, above Wechem; their sentinels were challenging and answering each
other in the darkness; but not a shot was fired.
I returned. My wife and Gredel seemed happy; and we all went to bed.
Next day we learned that two Landwehr had been found killed--one near
the Avenue des Dames, between the town and the Quatre Vents, the other
at the end of Piquet, both fathers of families. The unfortunate men
had been surprised at their posts.
What a miserable thing is war! The Germans have lost more men than we
have; but we will not be so cruel as to rejoice over this.
And now, if I am asked my opinion about the Turcos, against whom the
Germans have raised such an outcry, I answer that they are good men and
true! Jacob and Jean Baptiste have received everything that we sent to
them. This Turco's word was worth more than that of the lieutenant and
the feld-weibel who had promised to pay me for my wine.
No doubt, amongst the Turcos there are some bad fellows; but the
greater part are honest men, with a strong feeling of religion: men who
have known them at Phalsbourg and elsewhere acknowledge them to be men
of honor. They have stolen nothing, robbed nobody, never insulted a
woman. If they had campaigned on the other side of the Rhine, of
course they would have twisted the necks of ducks and hens, as all
soldiers do in an enemy's country: the Landwehr put no constraint upon
themselves in our country. But the idea would never have occurred to
the Turcos, as it had to German officers and generals, of sending for
packs of Jews to follow them and buy up, wholesale, the linen,
furniture, clocks--in a word, anything they found in private
individuals' houses. This is simple truth! Monsieur de Bismarck may
insult the Turcos as much as he pleases before his German Parliament,
which is ready to say "Amen" every time he opens his mouth. He might
as well not talk at all. Thieves are bad judges of common honesty! I
am aware that Monsieur le Prince de Bismarck thinks himself the first
politician in the world, because he has deceived a simpleton; but there
is a wide difference between a great man and a great dishonest man. By
and by this will be manifest, to the great misfortune of Europe.
But it was a real comfort to have seen this Turco; and for several
days, when we were alone, my wife and Gredel talked of nothing else;
but sad reflections again got the upper hand.
No one can form an idea of the misery, the feeling of desolation which
takes possession of you, when days and weeks pass by in the midst of
enemies without the least word reaching you from the interior; then you
feel the strength of the hold that your native land has upon you. The
Germans think to detach us from it by preventing us from learning what
is taking place there; but they are mistaken. The less you speak the
more you think; and your indignation, your disgust, your hatred for
violence, force, and injustice is ever on the increase. You conceive a
horror for those who have been the cause of such sufferings. Time
brings no change; on the contrary, it deepens the wound: one curse
succeeds another; and the deepest desire left is either for an end of
all, or vengeance.
Besides, it is perfectly evident the Lorrainers and the Alsacians are a
bold, brave nation; and all the fine words in the world will not make
them forget the treatment they have suffered, after being surprised
defenceless. They would reproach themselves as cowards, did they cease
to hope for their revenge. I, Christian Weber, declare this, and no
honest man can blame me for it. Abject wretches alone accept injustice
as a final dispensation; and we have ever God over us all, who forbids
us to believe that murder, fire, and robbery may and ought to prevail
over right and conscience.
Let us return to our story.
Cousin George had seen in the Englishman's newspapers that the
circulation of the _Independance Belge_ and the _Journal de Geneve_ had
doubled and trebled since the commencement of the war, because they
filled the place of all the other journals which used to be received
from Paris; and without loss of time he had written to Brussels to
subscribe.
The first week, having received no answer, he had sent the money in
Prussian notes in a second letter; for we had at that time only
Prussian thalers in paper, with which the Landwehr paid us for whatever
they did not take by force. We had no great confidence in this paper,
but it was worth the trial.
The newspaper arrived. It was the first we had seen for four months,
and any one may understand the joy with which George came to tell me
this good news.
Every evening from that time I went to hear the newspapers read at
Cousin George's. We could hardly understand anything at first, for at
every line we met with new names. Chanzy had the chief command upon
the Loire, Faidherbe in the north. And these two men, without any
soldiers besides Mobiles and volunteers, held the open country. They
even gained considerable advantages over an enemy that far outnumbered
them; whilst the marshals of the Empire had suffered themselves to be
vanquished and annihilated in three weeks, with our best troops.
This shows that, in victories, generals have no more than half the
credit.
Of all the old generals, Bourbaki was the only one left.
As for Garibaldi, we knew him, and we could tell by the restless
movements of our Landwehr that he was approaching our mountains about
Belfort. He was the hope of our country: all our young men were going
to join him.
We also learned that the Government was divided between Tours and
Paris; that Gambetta was bearing all the burden of the defence of the
country, as Minister of War; that he was everywhere at once, to
encourage the dispirited; that he had set up the chief place of
instruction for our young soldiers at Toulouse, and that the Prussians
were pursuing their horrible course in the invaded countries with
renewed fury; that a party of francs-tireurs having surprised a few
Uhlans at Nemours, a column of Germans had surrounded the town on the
next day, and set fire to it to the music of their bands, compelling
the members of the committee for the defence to be present at this
abominable act; that M. de Bismarck had laid hands upon certain
bourgeois of the interior, in reprisal for the captures made by our
ships five hundred leagues away in the North Sea; that Ricciotti
Garibaldi, having defeated the Prussians at Chatillon-sur-Seine, those
atrocious wretches had delivered the innocent town over to plunder, and
laid it under contribution for a million of francs; that respectable
persons belonging to the Grand Duchy of Baden, private individuals,
were crossing the Rhine with horses and carts to come and pillage
Alsace with impunity--all the towns and villages being occupied by
their troops. In a word, many other things of the kind; which plainly
prove that with the Prussians, war is an honest means of growing rich,
and getting possession of the property of the inoffensive inhabitants.
At St. Quentin, one of their chiefs, the Colonel de Kahlden, gave
public notice to the inhabitants, that "if a shot was fired upon a
German soldier, _six inhabitants should be shot_; and that every
individual compromised or _suspected_ would be punished with death."
Everywhere, everywhere these great philosophers plundered and burned
without mercy whatever towns or villages dared resist!
George said that these beings were not raised above the beasts of prey,
and that education only does for them what spiked collars do for
fighting dogs.
We also heard of the capitulation of Thionville, after a terrible
bombardment, in which the Prussians had refused to allow the women and
children to leave the place! We heard of the first encounters of
Faidherbe in the north with Manteuffel; and the battles of Chanzy with
Frederick Charles, near Orleans.
In spite of the inferiority of our numbers, and the inexperience of our
troops, we often got the upper hand.
These news had restored us to hope. Unhappily, the heaviest blow of
all was to come. Phalsbourg, utterly exhausted by famine, was about to
surrender, after a resistance of five months.
Oh! my ancient town of Phalsbourg, what affliction sank into our
hearts, when, on the evening of the 9th December, we heard your heavy
guns fire one after another, as if for a last appeal to France to come
to your rescue! Oh! what were then our sufferings, and what tears we
shed!
"Now," said George, "it is all over! They are calling aloud to France,
our beloved France, unable to come! It is like a ship in distress, by
night, in the open sea, firing her guns for assistance, and no one
hears: she must sink in the deep."
Ah! my old town of Phalsbourg, where we used to go to market; where we
used to see our own soldiers--our red-trousered soldiery, our merry
Frenchmen! We shall never more see behind our ramparts any but heavy
Germans and rough Prussians! And so it is over! The earth bears no
longer the same children; and men whom we never knew tell us, "You are
in our custody: we are your masters!"
Can it be possible? No! ancient fortress of Vauban, you shall be
French again: "Nursery of brave men," as the first Bonaparte called
you. Let our sons come to manhood, and they shall drive from thy walls
these lumpish fellows who dare to talk of Germanizing you!
But how our hearts bled on that day! Every one went to hide himself as
far back in his house as he could, murmuring, "Oh! my poor Phalsbourg,
we cannot help thee; but if our life could deliver thee, we would give
it."
Yes! I have lived to behold this, and it is the most terrible
sensation I have ever experienced: the thought of meeting Jacob again
was no comfort; Gredel herself was listening with pale cheeks, and
counting the reports from second to second; and then the tears fell and
she cried: "It is over!"
Next day, all the roads were covered with German and Prussian officers
galloping rapidly to the place; the report ran that the entry would
take place the same evening; every one was preparing a small stock of
provisions for his son, his relations, his friends, whom he dreaded
never more to see alive.
On the morning of the 11th of December, leave was given to start for
the town; the sentinels posted at Wechem had orders to allow
foot-passengers to pass.
Phalsbourg, with its fifteen hundred Mobiles and its sixty gunners,
disdained to capitulate; it surrendered no rifles, no guns, no military
stores, no eagles, as Bazaine had done at Metz! The Commander Taillant
had not said to his men: "Let us, above all, for the reputation of our
army, avoid all acts of indiscipline, such as the destruction of arms
and material of war; since, according to military usage, strong places
and arms will return to France when peace is signed." No! quite the
contrary; he had ordered the destruction of whatever might prove useful
to the enemy: to drown the gunpowder, smash rifles, spike the guns,
burn up the bedding in the casemates; and when all this was done, he
had sent a message to the German general: "We have nothing left to eat!
To-morrow I will open the gates! Do what you please with me!"
Here was a man, indeed!
And the Germans ran, some laughing, others astonished, gazing at the
walls which they had won without a fight: for they have taken almost
every place without fighting; they have shelled the poor inhabitants
instead of storming the walls; they have starved the people. They may
boast of having burnt more towns and villages, and killed more women
and children in this one campaign, than all the other nations in all
the wars of Europe since the Revolution.
But, to be sure, they were a religious people, much attached to the
doctrines of the Gospel, and who sing hymns with much feeling. Their
Emperor especially, after every successive bombardment, and every
massacre--whilst women, children, and old men are weeping around their
houses destroyed by the enemy's shells, and from the battle-fields
strewn with heaps of dead are rising the groans and cries of thousands
and thousands of sufferers whose lives are crushed, whose flesh is
torn, whose bodies are rent and bleeding!'--their Emperor, the
venerable man, lifts his blood-stained hands to heaven and thanks God
for having permitted him to commit these abominable deeds! Does he
look upon God as his accomplice in crime?
Barbarian! one day thou shalt know that in the sight of the Eternal,
hypocrisy is an aggravation of crime.
On the 11th of December, then, early in the morning, my wife, Gredel,
Cousin George, Marie Anne and myself, having locked up our houses,
started, each carrying a little parcel under our arms, to go and
embrace our children and our friends--if they yet survived.
The snow was melting, a thick fog was covering the face of the country,
and we walked along in single file and in silence, gazing intently upon
the German batteries which we saw for the first time, in front of
Wechem, by Gerbershoff farm, and at the _Arbre Vert_.
Such desolation! Everything was cut down around the town; no more
summer-arbors, no more gardens or orchards, only the vast, naked
surface of snow-covered ground, with its hollows all bare; the bullet
marks on the ramparts, the embrasures all destroyed.
A great crowd of other village people preceded and followed us; poor
old men, women, and a few children; they were walking straight on
without paying any attention to each other: all thought of the fate of
those they loved, which they would learn within an hour.
Thus we arrived at the gate of France; it stood open and unguarded.
The moment we entered, the ruins were seen; houses tottering, streets
demolished, here a window left alone, there up in the air a chimney
scarcely supported; farther on some doorsteps and no door. In every
direction the bombshells had left their tracks.
God of heaven! did we indeed behold such devastation? we did in truth.
We all saw it: it was no dream!
The cold was piercing. The townspeople, haggard and pale, stared at us
arriving; recognitions took place, men and women approached and took
each other by the hand.
"Well?" "Well," was the reply in a hollow whisper, in the midst of the
street encumbered with blackened beams of wood. "Have you suffered
much?" "Ah! yes."
This was enough: no need for another word; and then we would proceed
farther. At every street corner a new scene of horror began.
Catherine and I were seeking Jacob; no doubt Gredel was looking for
Jean Baptiste.
We saw our poor Mobiles passing by, scarcely recognizable after those
five months. All through the fearful cold these unhappy men had had
nothing on but their summer blouses and linen trousers. Many of them
might have escaped and gained their villages, for the gates had stood
open since the evening before; but not a man thought of doing so; it
was not supposed that Mobiles would be treated like regular soldiers.
On the _place_, in front of the fallen church filled with its own
ruins, we heard, for the first time, that the garrison were prisoners
of war.
The cafes Vacheron, Meyer, and Hoffmann, riddled with balls, were
swarming with officers.
We were gazing, not knowing whom to ask after Jacob, when a cry behind
us made us turn round; and there was Gredel in the arms of Jean
Baptiste Werner! Then I kept silence; my wife also. Since she would
have it so, well, so let it be; this matter concerned her much more
than it did us.
Jean Baptiste, after the first moment, looked embarrassed at seeing us;
he approached us with a pale face, and as we spoke not a word to him,
George shook him by the hand, and cried: "Jean Baptiste, I know that
you have behaved well during this siege; we have learned it all with
pleasure: didn't we, Christian? didn't we, Catherine?"
What answer could we make? I said "yes"--and mother, with tears in her
eyes, cried: "Jean Baptiste, is Jacob not wounded?"
"No, Madame Weber; we have always been very comfortable together.
There is nothing the matter. I'll fetch him: only come in somewhere."
"We are going to the Cafe Hoffmann," said she. "Try to find him, Jean
Baptiste." And as he was turning in the direction of the
mayoralty-house:
"There," said he, "there he is coming round the corner by the chemist
Rebe's shop." And we began, to cry "Jacob!"
And our lad ran, crossing the _place_.
A minute after, we were in each other's arms.
He had on a coarse soldier's cloak, and canvas trousers; his cheeks
were hollow; he stared at us, and stammered: "Oh, is it you? You are
not all dead?"
He looked stupefied; and his mother, holding him, murmured: "It is he!"
She would not relinquish her hold upon him, and wiped her eyes with her
apron.
Gredel and Jean Baptiste followed arm-in-arm, with George and Marie
Anne. We entered the Cafe Hoffmann together; we sat round a table in
the room at the left, and George ordered some coffee, for we all felt
the need of a little warmth.
None of us wished to speak; we were downcast, and held each other by
the hand, gazing in each other's faces.
The young officers of the Mobiles were talking together in the next
room; we could hear them saying that not one would sign the engagement
not to serve again during the campaign; that they would all go as
prisoners of war, and would accept no other lot than that of their men.
This idea of seeing our Jacob go off as a prisoner of war, almost broke
our hearts, and my wife began to sob bitterly, with her head upon the
table.
Jacob would have wished to come back to the mill along with us; I could
see this by his countenance; but he was not an officer, and his
_parole_ was not asked for. And, in spite of all, hearing those
spirited young men, who were sacrificing their liberty to discharge a
duty, I should myself have said "No: a man must be a man!"
Werner was talking with my cousin: they spoke in whispers; having, no
doubt, secret matters to discuss. I saw George slip something into his
hand. What could it be? I cannot say; but all at once Jean Baptiste
rising from his seat and kissing Gredel without any ceremony before our
faces, said that he was on service; that he would not see us again very
soon, as after the muster their march would begin, so that we should
have to say good-by at once.
He held out both his hands to my wife and then to Marie Anne, after
which he went out with George and Gredel, leaving us much astonished.
Jacob and Marie Anne remained with us; in a couple of minutes Gredel
and my cousin returned; Gredel, whose eyes were red, sat by the side of
Marie Anne without speaking, and we saw that her basket of provisions
was gone.
The stir upon the _place_ became greater and greater. The drums beat
the assembly, the officers of the Mobiles were coming out. I then
thought I would ask Jacob what had become of Mathias Heitz; he told us
that the wretched coward had been trembling with fright the whole time
of the siege, and that at last he had fallen ill of fear. Gredel did
not turn her head to listen; she would have nothing to do with him!
And, in truth, on hearing this, I felt I should prefer giving our
daughter to our ragman's son than to this fellow Mathias.
The review was then commencing under the tall trees on the _place_, and
Jacob appeared with his comrades. No sadder spectacle will ever be
seen than that of our poor lads, about half a hundred Turcos and a few
Zouaves, the remnants of Froeschwiller, all haggard and pale, and their
clothes falling to pieces. They were unarmed, having destroyed their
arms before opening the gates.
Presently Jacob ran to us, crying that they were ordered to their
barracks, and that they would have to start next day before twelve.
Then his eyes filled with tears. His mother and I handed him our
parcels, in which we had enclosed three good linen shirts, a pair of
shoes almost new, woollen stockings, and a strong pair of trousers.
I was wearing upon my shoulders my travelling cape; I placed it upon
his. Then I slipped into his pocket a small roll of thalers, and
George gave him two louis. After this, the tears and lamentations of
the women recommenced; we were obliged to promise to return on the
morrow.
The garrison was defiling down the street; Jacob ran to fall in, and
disappeared with the rest, near the barracks.
As for Jean Baptiste Werner, we saw him no more.
The German officers were coming and going up and down the town to
distribute their troops amongst the townspeople. It was twelve
o'clock, and we returned to our village, sadder and more distressed
than ever.
And now we knew that Jacob was safe; but we knew also that he was going
to be carried, we could not tell where, to the farthest depths of
Germany.
My wife arrived home quite ill; the damp weather, her anxiety, her
anguish of mind, had cast her down utterly. She went to bed with a
shivering fit, and could not return next day to town, nor Gredel, who
was taking care of her, so I went alone.
Orders had come to take the prisoners to Luetzelbourg. On reaching the
square, near the chemist Rebe's shop, I saw them all in their ranks,
moving by twos down the road. The inhabitants had closed their
shutters, not to witness this humiliation; for Hessian soldiers, with
arms shouldered, were escorting them: our poor boys were advancing
between them, their heads hanging sorrowfully down.
I stopped at the chemist's corner, and waited, being unable to discern
Jacob in the midst of that crowd. All at once I recognized him, and I
cried, "Jacob!" He was going to throw himself into my arms; but the
Hessians repulsed me. We both burst into tears, and I went on walking
by the side of the escort, crying, "Courage! ... Write to us.... Your
mother is not quite well.... She could not come.... It is not much!"
He answered nothing; and many others who were there had their friends
and relations before or behind them.
We wanted to accompany them to Luetzelbourg; unhappily, at the gate the
Prussians had posted sentinels, who stopped us, pointing their bayonets
at us. They would not even allow us to press our children's hands.
On all sides were cries: "Adieu, Jean!" "Adieu, Pierre!" and they
replied: "Adieu! Farewell, father!" "Adieu! Farewell, mother!" and
then the sighs, the sobs, the tears....
[Illustration: "GOOD-BY, MY FATHER! GOOD-BY, MY MOTHER!"]
Ah! the Plebiscite, the Plebiscite!
I was compelled to stay there an hour; at last they allowed me to pass.
I resumed my way home, my heart rent with anguish. I could see, hear
nothing but the cry, "Adieu! Adieu!" of all that crowd; and I thought
that men were made to make each other miserable; that it was a pity we
were ever born; that for a few days' happiness, acquired by long and
painful toil, we had years of endless misery; and that the people of
the earth, through their folly, their idleness, their wickedness, their
trust in consummate rogues, deserved what they got.
Yes, I could have wished for another deluge: I should have cared less
to see the waters rise from the ends of Alsace and cover our mountains,
than to be bound under the yoke of the Germans.
In this mood I reached home.
I took care not to tell my wife all that had happened; on the contrary
I told her that I had embraced Jacob in my arms for her and for us all;
that he was full of spirits, and that he would soon write to us.