ONRUSH OF THE REVOLUTION.
The army was to move at break of day. Before dawn John Lebrenn and
Castillon dug Victoria's grave on the heights of Geisberg. Thither she
was carried on a funeral litter borne by Captain Martin, Castillon,
Duchemin and Oliver. John Lebrenn, leaning because of his wounded knee
upon the arm of the young volunteer Duresnel, followed his sister's bier
in deep grief. It was snowing, and Victoria's last resting place soon
disappeared beneath the white blanket that fell upon the heights as the
army marched from its bivouac to advance upon Weissenburg, which might
still be defended by the Austrian army. But the Austrians left their
trenches during the night; they evacuated Weissenburg; the hordes of the
monarchs fled before the legions of the Republic.
Oliver was made under-lieutenant in the Third Hussars. Captain Martin
was elected commander of the battalion of Paris Volunteers, succeeding
the former commander, who was killed in the siege of Geisberg. The
standard captured from the Gerolstein Cuirassiers was carried to General
Hoche by John Lebrenn, who received from the hands of the young general,
in honor and memory of the glorious defense, a sword taken from the
enemy on that day.
On the 10th Nivose, General Donadieu, denounced before the revolutionary
tribunal, and convicted of treason, was condemned to death, a penalty
which he paid on the scaffold.
Hoche's victory, of the Lines of Weissenburg, decided the success of the
whole campaign. On the 12th Nivose the Convention, upon motion of
Barrere, rendered this decree:
The National Convention decrees:
The Armies of the Rhine and of the Moselle, and the citizens and
garrison of Landau, have deserved well of the fatherland.
John Lebrenn, accordingly, being a soldier of the Army of the Rhine and
Moselle, engraved these words on the blade of the sword presented to him
by Hoche--JOHN LEBRENN HAS DESERVED WELL OF THE FATHERLAND.
The war continued. As soon as his wound had closed, Lebrenn wished to
rejoin the Army of the Rhine and the Moselle. But the cut, hardly
healed, opened again, and grew worse under the fatigues of a new
campaign. He was invalided to the hospital at Strasburg late in the
month of Germinal of the year II (March, 1794).
During her husband's absence Charlotte Lebrenn continued to live with
her mother in the house on Anjou Street. Master Gervais consented to
resume the direction of the smithy he had sold to Lebrenn, until the
latter's return from the army. Charlotte, as previously, kept the books
of the house. On this task she was engaged on the 23rd Prairial, year II
(June 11, 1794). The young woman, now nearing her confinement, was still
dressed in mourning for Victoria, her sister-in-law. Madam Desmarais
was employed about some dressmaking.
Having finished her accounts, Charlotte closed her books, took out a
portfolio of white paper, and prepared to write.
"I must seem very curious, my dear daughter," said Madam Desmarais, "but
I am piqued about these sheets of paper which you fill with manuscript
every night, and which will soon make a book."
"It is a surprise I am preparing for John upon his return, good mother."
"May he be able, for his sake and for ours, to enjoy the surprise soon!
His last letter gave us at least the hope of seeing him any moment. He
wrote in the same tenor to Monsieur Billaud-Varenne, who came to see us
day before yesterday expecting to find your husband here."
"John awaited only the permission of his surgeon to set out on his way,
for the results of his wound made great precautions imperative. Ah,
mother! How proud I am to be his wife! With what joy and honor I will
embrace him!"
"Alas, that pride costs dear. My fear is that our poor John will be
crippled all his life. Ah, war, war," sighed Madam Desmarais, her eyes
moistening with tears. "Poor Victoria--what a terrible end was hers!"
"Valiant sister! She lived a martyr, and died a heroine. Never was I so
moved as when reading the letter John wrote us from Weissenburg the day
after Victoria expired in his arms prophecying the Universal Republic,
the Federation of the Nations." Then smiling faintly and indicating to
her mother the papers scattered over the table Charlotte added: "And
that brings us back to the surprise I am getting ready for our dear
John. Read the title of this page."
Madam Desmarais took the sheet which her daughter held out to her, and
read upon it, traced in large characters, "TO MY CHILD!"
"So!" began Madam Desmarais, much moved, "these pages you have been at
work on so many days--"
"Are addressed, in thought, to my child. The babe will see the light
during a terrible period. If it is a boy, I can not hold before him a
better example than that of his own father; if it is a girl--" and
Charlotte's voice changed slightly, "I shall offer her as a model that
courageous woman whom chance gave me to know, to love, and to admire for
a short while before her martyrdom."
"Lucile!" cried Madam Desmarais, shuddering at the recollection. "The
unfortunate wife of Camille Desmoulins! Poor Lucile! So beautiful, so
modest, so good--and a young mother, too! Nothing could soften the
monsters who sat upon the revolutionary tribunal; they sent that
innocent young woman of twenty to the scaffold!"
"Alas, the eve of her death, she sent to Madam Duplessis, her mother,
this letter of two lines:
"Good mother; a tear escapes my eye; it is for you. I go to sleep
in the calmness of innocence.
"LUCILE.[16]
"Touching farewell!" continued Charlotte. "I also, shall know how to
die."
"You frighten me!" exclaimed Madam Desmarais, trembling. "But no; you
are a mother, and women in your condition escape the scaffold."
"The child protects the mother. So I address this writing to my child,
to whom, perchance, I may owe my life. Camille Desmoulins, Danton, those
illustrious men, those lofty patriots, were all sacrificed yesterday. My
husband has equalled them in civic virtue, he may be judged and
guillotined to-morrow. Sad outlook!"
"Ah, blood, always blood!" murmured Madam Desmarais, her heart sinking
within her. "Good God, have pity on us."
"Good mother, let me read you a few lines from the memoirs I have
written for my child on the events of our times:
"'You are born, dear child, in times without their like in the world.
And when your reason is sufficiently grown, you will read these pages
written by me under the eyes of a loving mother, while your father was
gone to fight for the independence of our country, and for the safety of
the Revolution and the Republic.
"'Perhaps some day you will hear curses and calumnies leveled at this
heroic epoch in which you were born. Perhaps for a day, but for a day
only, you will see walk again the phantoms of the Church of Rome and of
royalty.
"'Christ, the proletarian of Nazareth said, _The chains of the slaves
will be broken; all men shall be united in one fraternal equality; the
poor, the widows and the orphans shall be succored_.
"'And now the time has arrived.
"'Those who called themselves the ministers of God continued, for
eighteen centuries, to possess slaves, serfs and vassals. In one day
the Revolution has realized the prophecy of Christ, misconstrued by the
priests.'"
"True, true, my daughter," assented Madam Desmarais, "the Republic did
in one day what the Church had for centuries refused to do. It was the
place of the Church at least to set the example in freeing the slaves,
the serfs and the vassals who belonged to it before the Revolution. May
it be accursed for its failure to do so."
"You recognize, then, dear mother, that in these troublous times the
good still outdistances the bad;" and Charlotte resumed her reading:
"'Church and royalty purposely kept the people in profound ignorance, in
order to render them more docile to exploitation. On the other hand,
behold what the Republic decreed, on the 8th Nivose, year II (December
28, 1793):
"'The National Convention decrees:
"'Instruction is unrestricted and shall be gratuitous and
compulsory. The Convention charges its Committee on Instruction to
draw up for it elementary text books for the education of the
citizens. The first of these books shall have in them the
Declaration of the Rights of Man, the Constitution, the Table of
Virtuous or Heroic Deeds, and the Principles of Eternal Morality.
"'This it followed up by two other decrees, the first under date of the
28th Nivose, year II (January 17, 1794):
"'The National Convention decrees:
"'A competition shall be opened for works treating of;
"'Instruction on preserving the health of children, from the moment
of conception till their birth, and on their physical and moral
training until their entrance into the national schools.
"'The National Convention decrees:
"'There shall be established in each district within the territory
of the Republic a national public library'!"
"These are, as you say, my daughter, great and useful things."
Charlotte continued reading:
"'The National Convention, upon a report of the Committee of Public
Safety, adopted also this resolution:
"'The National Convention decrees:
"'There shall be opened in each department a register entitled the
Book of National Benefits.
"'The first division therein shall be for old and infirm farmers;
"'The second, for old or infirm mechanics;
"'The third shall be set apart for mothers and widows as well as
unmarried mothers, who have children in the country districts.
"'These decrees prove that the Republic, in its commiseration for the
unfortunate, consecrates to them a sort of religious care; not only does
it relieve the miseries of the people, but it honors their misfortune.
It is not a degrading alms which it throws them, it is the debt of the
country which it seeks to pay off to the aged who have used up their
lives in toil upon the land or in trades. This debt the Republic also
pays off to the poor widows who can not undertake the care of their
young family. The aged, the child, and the woman, are the constant
objects of the solicitude of the Republic.'"
Just then Gertrude the serving maid ran quickly into the room. Her
countenance was at once joyous and pained. Charlotte sprang from her
seat, and cried,
"My husband has come!"
"Madam--that is to say--but pray, madam, in your condition do not
agitate yourself too greatly--" replied Gertrude. "Monsieur John is,
indeed, come, if you please--but--"
Charlotte and her mother were both about to rush to meet their returning
soldier when he appeared on the threshold, supported on Castillon's arm.
The two men were dressed in the uniform of the volunteers of the
Republic. John embraced his wife and her mother rapturously, and wiped
from his eyes the happy tears which his wife's approaching motherhood
caused him. Then seeing that Castillon stood aside, with tears in his
eyes also, John said:
"A hug for Castillon, too. In this campaign he has been to me not a
comrade, but a brother."
"I knew it by your letters," replied Charlotte, as she warmly embraced
the foreman.
"You will sup with us, Citizen Castillon--you would not leave us to
celebrate my husband's return alone?"
"You are very kind, Citizeness Lebrenn. I accept your offer
gratefully--my day will then be complete," answered the foreman. "I
shall just run out and say good-day to my comrades in the shop. But do
not forget--friend John must be kept from walking, if he is not to
remain a cripple." And Castillon stepped out of the room.
"My child," said Madam Desmarais, "your husband must get off his uniform
and lie down. Besides, his wound no doubt needs dressing. Let us attend
to it."
Several hours later John and his wife were sitting together, still
drinking in the delicious raptures which follow long separations. Day
was nearly done.
"When I left you," John was saying, "you were the dearest and best of
wives. I return to find you the noblest of mothers. Words fail me to
express how moved I am by the sentiment which dictated to you that
address to our child which you have just read me. I, too, am affrighted,
not for the future but for the present, for the present generation. The
most upright spirits seem now to be stricken with a sort of mad vertigo;
and still the republican arms are everywhere victorious, everywhere the
oppressed peoples stretch out their hands to us. The Terror has become a
fatal necessity. The Convention, having restored the public credit and
assured the livelihood of the people, continues daily to issue decrees
as generous and lofty in sentiment and as practical in operation as
those you have embodied in your pages to our child. The national wealth
still opens to the country enormous financial resources. The people,
calm and steady, has cast the slough, so to speak, of its effervescence
and political inexperience. It now shows itself full of respect for the
law, and for the Convention, in which it sees the incarnation of its own
sovereignty. And yet, it is at this supreme moment that the best
patriots are decimating, mowing one another down, with blind fury.
Anacharsis Clootz, Herault of Sechelles, Camille Desmoulins, Danton, and
many others, the best and most illustrious citizens, are sent to the
scaffold."
"Eh! no doubt; and if there is anything surprising, it is your own
astonishment, my dear Lebrenn!" suddenly put in a voice.
Charlotte and her husband turned quickly around, to see Billaud-Varenne
standing in the open doorway. For some moments he had been a party to
Lebrenn's confidences; an indiscretion almost involuntary on Billaud's
part, for the young couple, absorbed in their conversation, had not
noticed his entrance. Now stepping forward, he said to Charlotte:
"Be so good as to excuse me, madam, for having listened. Your door was
open, and that circumstance should mitigate my 'spying'." Then with a
friendly gesture preventing John's rising from the reclining chair where
he half sat, half lay, Billaud-Varenne added, as he affectionately
pressed the hand of Charlotte's husband: "Do not move, my dear invalid.
You have won the right to remain on your stretcher. Your worthy wife
must have written to you what interest I took in all that concerned you
since your departure for the army."
"My wife has often given me intimation of your affectionate remembrance,
my dear Billaud; and further, I know it is through your intervention
that Citizen Hubert, my mother-in-law's brother, has been mercifully
forgotten in the prison of Carmes, where he has long been held as a
suspect. Thanks to you, his life is no longer in danger."
"Enough, too much, on that subject," declared Billaud-Varenne, half
smiling, half serious. "Do not awaken in me remorse for a slip. Citizen
Hubert has ever been, and ever will be, one of the bitterest enemies of
the Republic. For that reason, he should never have been spared. I
should have ordered his head to fall."