REUNION OF THE NOBLES.
Jacob, impressed by Gromof's words, sought an interview with Kruder or
Ivas. The first was out, and the second he could not find. Returning
from his search he learned that the people were assembled for the
funerals of the previous night's victims. An irresistible impulse
seized him, and he arrived, he hardly knew how, at the spot where the
five victims had fallen. The place, after the murder, had been
completely deserted. In the souls of the people surged an exaltation, a
virility, a confidence which only demanded a signal of authority to
become a revolution. They had lacked arms, but they had torn them from
the Russian troops.
Soldiers and officers seemed ashamed of the attack. The government
itself, after so cold-blooded an act, hesitated. Orders were received
from Petersburg to display a pitiless firmness, but they dared not
execute them. It almost seemed as if remorse had overtaken the
representatives of the Czar at Warsaw. Was it really remorse? No, it
was rather a ruse.
Clubs gathered in the open air and met everywhere without being
disturbed by the police. For the first time in Poland they enjoyed
under Muscovite rule a semblance of liberty. The capital was under the
control of its inhabitants; in the circle of commerce delegates were
chosen, whose duty was to present to Prince Gortchakof, Namiestnik of
the kingdom, the will of the people. This removal of the yoke of the
oppressor lasted for several days,--from March to April. Sad as its
beginning had been, the nation breathed; she was free for the moment.
Those who took part in the deeds of these days guard them in their
memory as the most memorable episode of their lives. I doubt if it has
ever been given a man to see twice, anything as imposing.
Jacob walked about the city, his heart filled with sweet emotions; a
single thought occupied him, that of the fusion of the Israelites with
the rest of the nation. The hour was propitious, the moment was
decisive. In spite of little sympathy for Mann, he realized that he
could undertake nothing without his influence. Mann had not been chosen
a delegate, for the Jews were represented to their satisfaction in the
person of the wealthy and honourable Matthieu Rosen, a man of rare
merit. He urged his people and their rabbis to join in the patriotic
movement, for by that means they would share in a union of sentiments
and aspirations with the Christian population and their clergy. A
similar union had occurred in 1848, at Cracow. At that time the coffins
of the massacred Jews were stationed before the church of Sainte Marie.
At present they must guard against the pride and fanaticism of the
Christians on one side, and the narrow-minded selfishness of the Jews
on the other. Jacob hastened to consult Mann on this subject, but found
him absent. But the young man's wishes, expressed at the late council
of his brethren, were soon realized by an administrative decree.
Jacob went to see the delegates, who in the silence of the night were
occupied arranging for the funerals. They had at this time all
authority concentrated in their hands. The Jew foresaw how fleeting
this authority would be. These men were honest, but without the energy
required for such a crisis, and they would in a short time lose their
wits and abdicate the popular sovereignty confided to their keeping.
The funeral details were arranged. Even the most intolerant of the
Christians felt the necessity, in spite of their prejudices, of uniting
for the time being with the Jews in perfect fraternity. Jacob passed a
sleepless night on one of the benches of the assembly room. At daybreak
he again hastened to Mann's house. He found him a little irritated that
the popular vote had preferred Rosen to himself, and he had retired
like Achilles to his tent. The pompous old fellow was awake and already
surrounded with visitors, although he had not finished his toilet.
Booted, but in his shirt, he presented a laughable spectacle on account
of his extreme corpulence. He, no doubt, noticed this himself, for he
interrupted himself in the middle of a heated harangue, to which his
visitors listened respectfully, to throw over his shoulders a cotton
dressing-gown.
"Ah!" said he, "our friends the nobles have become, then, meek as
lambs. It is they who first ask to embrace us. One sees that they know
the proverb,--
'Dans l'embarras
Va chez Judas.'
It is for us to remember the other part of the verse:--
'Plus d'embarras
Va t'en, Judas.'"
"The harmony is well established," said Bartold. "It is sincere; we
must take advantage of it."
"No; it is not peace, it is only a truce. The Agricultural Society,
representative of the nobles, continues to repulse us. Its secretary
has sent Matthieu Rosen a letter, which leaves no doubt of their
malevolence towards us. They wish, they say, that we should merit our
right as citizens, as if we had not deserved that title since we were
established on Polish soil. Feudalists, ultramontanes, fanatics, they
desire war; let them go to the war, then. Let us not mix with them.
Every one to his own interest."
Thus spake the fiery Achilles, Mann, whom Henri Segel tried to calm.
"You must admit, however," said he, "that Matthieu Rosen, though
treated with little consideration by the secretary of the Agricultural
Society, has been named a delegate. Let us strike while the iron is
hot."
"From this iron there can only come new chains for us," said Mann.
"They are incorrigible, these nobles, eaten up by pride of long
descent. We shall have conciliations when Dumah has thrown them all
into hell; not before."
"The Russian government agrees with you there," remarked Bartold; "but
the nobility is capable of regeneration, of amending. They commence to
understand their interests better, and if they hold out their hands to
us, we should not refuse them."
"No! the nobles are blind!" cried Mann, in a loud voice. "Give up all
thoughts of alliance with them. What matters it to us what happens to
them?"
"If we keep aloof now," said Jacob, "it is the same as taking sides
with the Russians. Let us go, my friends; when we are called in the
spirit of sacrifice, the cause of the weak and the oppressed ought to
be ours."
"It is utterly useless to reason with you, dear Jacob. Men of your
stamp go to their ruin and perish. I will not oppose you, though I
deplore your fate. As for the mass of our people, they should look out
for their own interests and for the country."
"Let the majority remain conservative, but not for that alone; they
should escape death in order to console and succour those who survive
the catastrophe."
"There will be time enough to speak of that," said Mann, with a
disdainful gesture.
"It is probable," replied Bartold, "that the burial of the victims of
yesterday will be a European manifestation of the regeneration of
Poland. Ought we to be indifferent lookers on? to take no part
ostensibly in the procession? in a word, to wash our hands of it all?"
"This burial does not concern us," cried Mann. "None of our people have
been killed. Why should we thrust ourselves into the quarrel?"
"It is not merely a burial, it is a grand political manifestation,"
said Jacob. "Before those coffins there will be a national appeal for
vengeance against the assassins; and we"--
"We? Let it suffice us to behold from afar that manifestation! And you,
Jacob, who preach with so much warmth a good understanding with the
Christians, as you are at the same time a fervent and orthodox Jew, you
cannot ask us to march behind the coffins, side by side with the
Christian clergy. That would be breaking one of our laws, which
commands all kohen to keep at a distance from bodies of the dead. How
much worse the impure corpses of men of another belief, another race."
"I know well that the kohenin ought to abandon even their dying wives,
if they are not of Jewish origin. Their contact becomes impure. But I
also know that the law, formerly so vigorous, and not without a wise
motive, is indulgent under exceptional circumstances. A kohen who, in
order to accomplish a good deed, touches a corpse is, according to the
conclusion of all rabbis, exempt from sin."
"I do not think that can be the opinion of all the rabbis. However, we
can easily ascertain."
By a strange coincidence, the door opened and admitted a dignified old
man with a long white beard, clad in the ancient costume of a Polish
Jew. All saluted him respectfully. He was a rabbi, generally esteemed
for his learning and his honourable and upright character. His face
denoted the serenity of a soul untroubled by terrestrial cares.
Mann hastened to repeat what he had said to Jacob, and, wishing above
all to have the approbation of the rabbi for his doctrine of hatred and
vengeance, he added:--
"Ought we to forgive the nobles? Ought we to overlook the evils done us
by them? The justice of God is implacable, and the hour approaches when
we shall be avenged upon our secular oppressors."
The old man listened attentively, then replied slowly and solemnly:--
"The Rabbi Ichochua ben Levi had for a neighbour a Sadducee, who had
insulted him in many ways. Weary of enduring these affronts, he
resolved to pray to God for vengeance. As he was preparing to go to the
temple to accomplish his design, he was overcome by a profound slumber.
On awakening, he said: 'The sweet sleep into which God plunged me so
suddenly is a warning from on high; a just man never invokes divine
vengeance against his enemies.'"
Then the venerable man arose, bowed, and went out. Mann shrugged his
shoulders, and was silent. His guests, most of whom were not very
devout, took their hats, considering the question decided by the text
of the law. In the Talmud, as in books of a character still more
sacred, each interprets as he wishes. The passage proved Jacob in the
right, but could have been perhaps contradicted by another passage
which would put him in the wrong. Mann, fortunately, was not
sufficiently familiar with the literature of Judaism to recall a text
adapted to his argument. Jacob, triumphant, rapidly followed the rabbi,
and kissed his hand with gratitude.
He returned to the city, where he found that there had been a change in
favour of the Jews. Their adversaries were silent, and public opinion
approved their admittance on a fraternal footing, although the nobles
still opposed it. Twenty-four hours had sufficed not to efface, but to
mask, the prejudices of both parties,--prejudices of which they were
ashamed, and which they concealed in an obscure corner of the soul and
dared no longer show in daylight.
The nobles were not in perfect harmony even with each other. Like the
Jews, they held diverse opinions. Those among them who were the most
obstinate were those who were not well informed as to the actual
situation, who had learned nothing, forgotten nothing, and who had
intrenched themselves in an exclusive adherence and devotion to the
past. These were called on the streets ultramontanes, on account of
their importation of foreign Catholicism,--a Catholicism which was
monarchical and legitimist, an enemy of progress. Essentially different
was it from Polish Catholicism, which was conciliatory toward
republican ideas, but did not take sides with either party, and, with
Copernicus, had left its luminous traces in the ascendant march of
humanity.
This group was Polish in its own way, perhaps by its attachment to the
privileges of the nobility; but it was by no means patriotic in its
alliance in heart or spirit with the political reaction in Europe,
which weighed so heavily on Poland.
It was not easy to be conservative in Poland. It was to condemn one's
self to incessant contradictions of conscience and of conduct. How can
one be at the same time a patriot, and submit to a foreign yoke? to be
a Catholic, and prostrate one's self before a foreign authority which
persecuted Catholicism? Weary of conflict, the conservative finishes by
thinking only of saving his fortune and his social position, and pays
no attention to the rest.
Jacob, in wandering over the city from house to house, with the
familiarity which always prevails in times of revolution, entered a
circle of ultramontanes. The master of the house, who was seated in an
easy-chair, which he never quitted on account of an incurable malady,
had still more nerve and energy than most of the visitors assembled in
his rooms. Here were genuine counts, specimens of the ancient
aristocracy of orthodox Catholicism, and many young nobles fresh from
the Jesuit colleges of Belgium and Bavaria. Among all these the most
remarkable was a man of gigantic height, of irreproachable character,
of rare eloquence, who, on account of his habit of repeating the
popular proverb, _Jak Boga Kocham_ (as true as that I love God), had
received the not very euphonious sobriquet of Boakoam.
He was a descendant of a very aristocratic family, deprived of its
former splendour by the prodigality of its ancestors. He lived
ordinarily in the country on a small estate, all that remained of his
fortune.
The conversation was on the events of the day, and the social equality
accorded to the Israelites.
"In a hundred years," said Boakoam, "the Counts Z., P., and B. will
have become coachmen, and their palaces will have passed into the hands
of the R.'s, the K.'s, and the E.'s."
"It is possible," replied the master of the house, who belonged to one
of the families designated; "above all, if we make many more false
steps like this one. It will be our own fault. We shall foolishly ruin
ourselves. We have an aversion to work, while the Jews are economical,
laborious, and persevering."
"Thus, that the Jews may not devour us, my dear count, you wish we may
be transformed into Jews. Pretty advice! If we must perish, let us
perish at least as we are. Experience has demonstrated to us our
inaptitude as financiers. To what end have come our navigation
companies, or our industrial or commercial associations? We have lost
money on all our undertakings. Distasteful as it is to admit, I must
confess that we have arrived at a point of irresistible decadence. We
have organic vices, we have attained the height of moral weakness. I
would, nevertheless, like to believe that we shall yet regain our
old-time vigour."
"To rise again," said a country gentleman, "we must have several
chiefs, several guides in whom we can place confidence, as in you,
Monsieur le Comte."
"You could not have a better chief than Count Andre Zamoyski, whose
name is on every lip. Virtue, reason, grandeur of soul, patriotism, all
these qualities he possesses."
"Certainly Count Andre is the right man, he is honourable and worthy;
but let us talk no more of politics just now," said Boakoam.
"God preserve us from this mania of politics, unreasonable and
inopportune! We can gain nothing by it, and it has already been the
cause of many evils. True politics are agriculture, science, economy,
and the amelioration of morals."
"You are right, Monsieur le Comte," said a listener. "But what is to be
done when, in spite of ourselves, the youth and the city rise in arms
and draw us in?"
"Youth has courage and action. Imitate them. If you do not wish a
revolution, proclaim it loudly; not in any half way. I understand
perfectly the blind but heroic ardour of these young men who offer
their blood for their country. It is necessary that we have equal
energy to arrest this patriotic uprising, that we do not give them
encouragement by our inertia, our weakness."
"Then we are lost," cried a voice.
"Oh, not when we have just concluded an alliance with the Jews!"
replied Boakoam. "The Jews will certainly save us."
This pleasantry caused a ripple of laughter.
"That which is certain," gravely replied the invalid, "is that they
have more sense than we. They have proved it."
"They will not lend us their good sense as they have loaned us their
money," remarked Boakoam. "They know that it is a capital which we
lack, and on which we could not pay them interest."
"Where is the time when we did not know the Jews save as stewards and
brokers! One could then pluck the extortioner by the beard."
"Those times, alas! will never return," said one of the company in a
sad voice.
"The world is degenerating," added another.
"Have you remarked, gentlemen," said a solemn personage with black hair
and the Oriental type, "that everything is being gradually monopolized
by the Israelites? They are the masters of the Bourse. Now the Bourse
directs the world and governs the State. Without it, no loans and no
wars. They manage public opinion through the press, the principal
organs of which belong to them. In Prussia, in the rest of Germany, and
in Belgium, journalism is in their hands. In France every newspaper has
one or more Jews connected with it. Many have seats in Parliament and
the German Reichstag. Some are ministers or ambassadors."
"The reason is easily to be seen," replied Boakoam. "The Polish nobles
could not exist without Jewish factors, and took them everywhere with
them on their travels. Europe is like us, morally and physically
declined; the governments are in decadence, and the factors do as they
like."
"French masonry," added the country gentleman, "and democracy have the
Jews for their firm supporters."
"But that does not agree with the Bourse, whose principals are far from
revolutionary," objected some one.
"They are," replied the gentleman, "both liberals and conservatives,
but only in a measure. Liberals when they wish to undermine
Catholicism, and conservatives when they have other ends to serve; but
when it is a question of war, they are always conservatives, for they
do not wish war at any price."
"Never," said Boakoam, "shall we be able to get rid of the Jews, and
they will yet ruin us."
"If one is ruined it is usually his own fault," replied his friend.
"True. But how can we change now? We, who are accustomed to a life of
ease and to liberty of action, is it possible for us to become
tradesmen? The Jews understand business, have money, skill, and
avarice. And we? Nothing!"
"Let us try to acquire these qualities."
"How can we? The government oppresses us and seeks to crush us out of
existence. We are weakened by this cruel oppression; where can we find
strength for the struggle?"
"In a sentiment of duty."
"Too late to lift the burden now. I know not if the _Finis Poloniae_
will be accomplished, but the end of the Polish nobility is certain. I
am afraid that we are doomed."
"Listen to me, messieurs," said the master of the house solemnly. "I
have not long to live. Every day death draws nearer to me, as you
perceive. As the time to leave the world approaches, a man does not
lie. Well, on the border of the tomb I adjure you not to lose faith in
yourselves, for you who prophesy your own fall are the ones who hasten
it. What have the nobles done since 1791? Where are their labours,
their efforts, their sacrifices? Behold them unbalanced, their
fortunes, activity, existence, entirely and foolishly dissipated in
libertinage and idleness. Immutable laws regulate everything in nature.
Once withered, the leaf falls; once unfaithful to its mission, every
class of society is condemned to disappear. If, as you predict, the
Jews are destined to supersede us, it will be owing to our improvidence
and their superior virtue."
"Frightful perspective!" cried the country gentleman piteously. "Do you
say that my son may perhaps become steward for a Kronenberg or a
Rosen?"
"Perhaps he would be lucky to get that position. If I were a Kronenberg
or a Rosen I would not think of employing so incapable a steward as
your son."
Boakoam put an end to the conversation by this sally, which was a
little brutal. Jacob, unable to contain himself longer, believed it a
duty to reveal his identity.
"Messieurs," said he, "pardon me for interrupting this discussion, but
I feel it my duty to confess that I am a Jew."
All eyes were turned toward him in astonishment. The least surprised
was Boakoam and their host. The former burst out laughing, and cried:--
"In that case, my dear sir, you have heard many curious things about
your race."
"Very curious, and I shall profit by them. As for your pleasantries,
they have not wounded me. I could form some idea of how you spoke of
us, by the way that we speak of you at our meetings. For compensation,
you have finished by praising our qualities in such a manner as to make
me very grateful. But your praises are more than we deserve. If we
possess some good qualities, we have also many faults, and I ought to
acknowledge them. This alliance with us seems repugnant to you; but,
believe me, it will be for your advantage in the end. It is repugnant
to you because, as some one here has said, we smell of garlic and old
clothes; but just now you cannot have too many friends and allies."
"As true as I love God," cried Boakoam, "your morals are golden. But I
do not believe that we can trust in your friendship. You will be with
us as long as we are standing, but you will go over to the enemy when
we fall. You will then feel only contempt for us, and the thirst for
vengeance will awaken in your hearts."
"Never! I promise it in my name, and in the names of those who think as
I do. We will remain united in misfortune as in fortune."
"So as to profit equally by our success or our misfortunes? I am frank,
and now that we are on this subject, permit me to finish. I am ready to
acknowledge my fault, to avow all the vices and all the errors imputed
to the nobles, but I cannot see that your rich men are any better. You
accuse us of foolish vanity and aristocratic pride; your bankers have
as much. The Count Andre, who comes from a long line of illustrious
ancestors, is much more polite, more affable, more simple, than"--
"I do not deny it. Money often renders men impertinent. I have only one
excuse to offer for my co-religionists: it is, that repulsed by the
elegant society, overwhelmed with sarcasm, we have not had the
opportunity to profit by the same schooling as yourselves. You must
civilize us by your good examples."
"Hear! Hear!" cried Boakoam. "We will teach you our refined manners in
return for your practical spirit."
"I consent," replied Jacob smiling. "One word more: you have alluded to
some of us as rude and having repulsive manners. Very well; even among
these men, vain, proud, and gross, there are some who are benevolent;
though their appearance does not indicate it. I have not finished. In
the presence of the representatives of the past I know not whether I
shall be permitted to express my ideas. Behold them, if you will be
kind enough to listen. Humanity will not retrograde. She has ceased to
be led by a privileged class; she feels her strength and will walk
alone. The feudal privileges are dead, very dead."
"You avow, however," said the dark man with Oriental features, "that
society, freed from privileges and belonging to itself, will still
admit a certain division of classes."
"Yes; but admittance to these classes will be given by personal merit,
and not by birth."
"Then we shall all be in the same boat," cried Boakoam
laughing,--"peasants, Jews, gypsies, bourgeoisie, pell-mell with us the
fine flower of the aristocracy."
"Modern theories, fatal doctrines born of revolutionary folly,"
remarked a pupil of the Jesuits, fresh from Belgium. "I believe neither
in progress nor a new order of things. All that I see in this accursed
age is the hand of God, which chastises us and plunges us into
confusion and chaos."
Saying this the disciple of Loyola took his departure, furious. Many
followed his example, while Jacob was making his final remarks thus:--
"We are new citizens, but rest assured that in recovering our rights of
citizenship after so long ostracism we will not refuse the accompanying
duties. If until the present the Jew has not considered himself a Pole,
the fault has not been with him nor with Poland herself, but with the
barbarity of past ages, to the shadows of a prolonged epoch of
darkness. 'Light, light, still more light!' as said the dying Goethe,
and the world will move on in the sight of God."
"As true as I love God," said Boakoam, "these are holy words. And I
must save myself, for my confessor would refuse absolution because I
had dealings with the Old Testament, in the absence of the New.
Good-evening."