"Frederick, let me look once more at those good creatures. Oh! poor
Bellotte! Poor Blanchette! I will never see you again!"
It was a heartrending spectacle, and the people dispersed quickly,
turning away their heads, for the sight of such iniquities is the most
abominable thing on earth. At last, however, we were obliged to ascend
to our wretched little rooms, and think over our desolation; we had to
think how we should live, now that all our resources were taken away.
You know, George, what a cow is worth to a peasant; with a cow in the
stable one has butter, milk, cheese, all the necessaries of life; to
possess a cow is to be in easy circumstances, two are almost wealth. Up
to the present time we could sell the produce and make a few _sous_ in
that way; now we would have to buy everything at this time of dearth,
while the enemy fattened on our poverty.
Ah! what a terrible time it was! Those who come after us will have no
idea of it.
*XXVIII*
All that we had left were five or six hundred weight of hay and
potatoes. Ykel, who sympathized with all our griefs, said to me the
same day:
"Look here, brigadier; what I predicted has come to pass. The Germans
hate you, because you refused to serve under them, and because your
son-in-law has gone to join the republicans. If they could drive you
away, or even kill you, they would do it; but they want still to give
themselves airs of justice and highmindedness; for that reason they will
strip you of everything to force you to leave the country, as they say
'of your own free will!' Take my advice, get rid of your fodder as
quickly as possible, for one of these fine mornings they will come to
requisition it, saying that those who have no cows have no need of
fodder. And, above all, do not say that I gave this advice!"
I knew that he was right; the next day my hayloft was empty; Gaspard,
Hulot, Diederick, Jean Adam, big Starck, all the neighbours came that
evening and carried off our provision of hay by bundles, and in this way
I had a few francs in reserve. Starck even gave up to me one of his
goats, which was of the greatest use to us; at least the grandmother had
a little milk, morning and evening, that prolonged her life; but after
so many shocks the poor old woman was terribly weakened, she trembled
like a leaf, and no longer left her bed, dreaming always, murmuring
prayers, talking of Burat, her husband; of Grandfather Duchene, of all
the old people that returned to her memory. Marie-Rose spun beside her,
and sat up till late at night, listening to her laboured breathing and
her complaints.
I sat alone in the side room, near the little windows, almost blocked
with snow, my legs crossed, my unlighted pipe between my teeth, thinking
of all the acts of injustice, of all the thefts, of those abominations
that took place every day; I began to lose confidence in the Almighty!
Yes, it is a sad thing to think of, but by dint of suffering I said to
myself that among men many resemble the sheep, the geese, and the
turkeys, destined to feed the wolves, the foxes and the hawks, who feast
themselves at their expense. And I pushed my indignation so far as to
say to myself that our holy religion had been invented by malicious
people to console fools for being preyed upon by others. You see,
George, to what excesses injustice drives us. But the worst of all was,
that there was bad news from the interior. A party of Germans came from
Wechem to confiscate my hay and found the loft empty; they were
indignant at it; they asked me what had become of the fodder, and I told
them that the station-master's cows had eaten it. My goat happened
fortunately to be among those of Starck, or the _bandits_ would
certainly have carried it off with them.
This troop of brawlers, then going into the inn, related how the
republicans had been beaten; that they had left thousands of corpses on
the field of battle; that they had been repulsed from Orleans, and that
they were still pursuing them; they laughed and boasted among
themselves. We did not believe one quarter of what they said, but their
good-humoured air and their insolence in speaking of our generals,
forced us to think that it was not all a lie.
As to Jean, no letters, no news! What had become of him? This
question, which I often asked myself, troubled me. I was careful not to
speak of it to Marie-Rose; but I saw by her pallor that the same thought
followed her everywhere.
It was now December. For some time the cannon of Phalsbourg had been
silenced, it was said that at night flames had been seen to rise
suddenly from the ramparts; we wondered what it could be. We have since
learned that they were burning the powder and breaking up the artillery
material, and they were spiking the cannon, for the provisions were
running out and they were about to be forced to open the gates.
This misfortune happened on the thirteenth of December, after six
bombardments and a hundred and twenty days of siege. Half the city was
in ruins; at the bombardment of the fourteenth of August alone eight
thousand five hundred shells had laid whole streets in ruins; and the
poor fellows picked up hastily in the suburbs at the time of the
terrible heat and sent into the city, with nothing but the blouses on
their backs and their shoes on their feet, after having passed that
fearful winter on the ramparts, were carried off again as prisoners of
war, some to Rastadt, others to Prussia, through the snow. On hearing
this news the consternation became universal. As long as the cannon of
Phalsbourg thundered we had kept up our hopes. We said from time to
time, "France still speaks!" And that made us lift up our heads again;
but then the silence told us that the Germans were really our masters,
and that we must make ourselves small so as not to draw down their anger
upon us.
From that day, George, our sadness knew no bounds. To add to our
misfortune, the grandmother grew much worse. One morning when I entered
her room, Marie-Rose said to me in a low voice:
"Father, grandmother is very sick. She does not sleep any more. She
seems suffocating! You ought to go for the doctor."
"You are right, my daughter," said I; "perhaps we have waited too long
as it is."
And, in spite of the pain of seeing our old fortress in the enemy's
hands, I determined to go to Phalsbourg in search of a physician. That
day the country was nothing but mud and clouds. I went straight
forward, with drooping head, walking on the slope at the edge of the
road, my mind a blank, from having thought for so many months of our
abasement, and so downcast that I would have given my life for nothing.
On the plateau of Bugelberg, just outside of the forest, seeing before
me about three leagues distant the little city looking as if crushed
under the gloomy sky, its burned houses, its ruined church, its ramparts
levelled with the ground, I stopped for a moment, leaning on my stick
and recalling bygone days.
How many times during the past twenty-five years I had gone there on
Sundays and holidays with my poor wife, Catherine, and my daughter,
either to go to mass, or to see the booths of the fair, or to shake
hands with some old comrades, laughing, happy, thinking that everything
would continue that way till the end of our days! And all the vanished
joys, the old friends, who, in their little gardens at the foot of the
glacis, called to us to come to pick currants or to gather a bunch of
flowers, seemed to return. How many recollections returned to me! I
could not remember them all, and I cried to myself:
"Oh! how distant those things are! Oh! who would ever have believed
that this misfortune would come upon us, that we, Frenchmen and
Alsatians, should be obliged to bow our necks to the Prussian yoke!"
My sight grew dim, and I set out again on my journey, murmuring in my
soul the consolation of all the wretched:
"Bah! life is short. Soon, Frederick, all will be forgotten. So take
courage, you have not much longer to suffer."
I seemed also to hear the trumpet of our joyous soldiers; but at the
gate, a squad of Germans, in big boots, and their sentinel, with
bow-legs, his gun on his shoulder, his helmet on the back of his neck,
and, walking to and fro in front of the guard-house, recalled to me our
position. My old comrade, Thome, city overseer and collector of the
city duties, beckoned to me to come in. We talked over our misfortunes;
and, seeing that I was looking at a company of Prussians crossing the
bridge, who, holding themselves erect, were keeping step, he said:
"Do not look at them, Frederick, they are proud when one looks at them;
they think that we are admiring them."
Then I turned away my eyes, and having rested for a few minutes I
entered the city.
*XXIX*
Do I need to describe to you now the desolation of that poor Phalsbourg,
formerly so neat, the little houses so well built, the large parade
ground, so gay on review day? Must I tell you of the houses fallen over
on each other, the gables overturned, the chimneys in the air amid the
ruins; and of the taverns filled with Germans, eating, drinking and
laughing, while we, with long faces, looking scared, wretched and ragged
after all these disasters, saw these intruders enjoying themselves with
their big pay taken out of our pockets? No, only at the thought of it,
my heart sickens; it is a thousand times worse than all that people
relate.
As I reached the corner of the parade ground, opposite the church tower,
which was still standing, with its cracked bells and its virgin with
uplifted arms, a harsh voice called from the state-house:
"_Heraus_!"[#]
[#] Get out.
It was the sergeant of the station who was ordering his men to go out;
the patrolling officer was coming, the others hastened from the
guard-house and formed the ranks; it was noon. I had halted in
consternation before the Cafe Vacheron. A crowd of poor people,
homeless, without work and without food, were walking backward and
forward, shivering with their hands in their pockets up to the elbows;
and I, knowing from what Thome had said that the military hospital and
the college were crowded with the sick, asked myself if I could find a
doctor to visit at Graufthal a poor old woman at the point of death. I
was overwhelmed with sadness and doubt. I did not know to whom to
address myself or what to do, when an old friend of the forest house,
Jacob Bause, the first trout fisher of the valley, began to call behind
me:
"Hallo! it is Father Frederick? Then you are still in the land of the
living?"
He shook hands and seemed so glad to see me that I was touched by it.
"Yes," said I, "we have escaped, thank God. When one meets people now
one almost thinks that they have been resuscitated. Unfortunately
grandmother is very ill and I do not know where to find a doctor in the
midst of this confusion."
He advised me to go to Dr. Simperlin, who lived on the first floor of
the Cafe Vacheron, saying that he was a good and learned man, and a true
Frenchman, who would not refuse to accompany me, in spite of the length
of the road and the work he had in the town, at the time of this
extraordinary press of business. So I went up stairs; and Dr.
Simperlin, who was just sitting down to dinner, promised to come as soon
as he had finished his repast. Then, feeling a little more easy, I went
down stairs into the large coffee room, to take a crust of bread and a
glass of wine, while waiting for him. The room was filled with
_landwehr_; fat citizens in uniform, brewers, architects, farmers,
bankers, and hotel-keepers, come to take possession of the country under
the command of the Prussian chiefs, who made them march like puppets.
All these people had their pockets full of money, and to forget the
unpleasantness of their discipline they ate as many sausages with
sauerkraut, and as much ham and salad with cervelats as our veterans
used formerly to drink glasses of brandy. Some drank beer, others
champagne or burgundy, each according to their means, of course without
offering any to their comrades--that is understood; they all ate with
two hands, their mouths open to the ears, and their noses in their
plates; and all that I say to you is, that as this muddy, rainy weather
prevented us from opening the windows, one had sometimes to go outside
in order to breathe.
I seated myself in one corner with my mug of beer, looking at the
tobacco smoke curling round the ceiling, and the servants bringing in
what was wanted, thinking of the sick grandmother, of the ruins that I
had just seen, listening to the Germans, whom I did not understand, for
they spoke an entirely different tongue from that of Alsace; and at the
other end of the room some Phalsbourgers were talking of an assistance
bureau that was being organized at the State House, of a soup kitchen
that they wished to establish in the old cavalry barracks, for the poor;
of the indemnities promised by the Prussians, and on which they counted
but little.
The time passed slowly. I had ended by not listening at all, thinking
of my own misery, when a louder, bolder voice drew me from my
reflections; I looked: it was Toubac, the station-master of Bockberg,
who was interrupting the conversation of the Phalsbourgers, who cried,
audaciously thumping the table with his big fist:
"It is all very well for you, city people, to talk now about the
miseries of war. You were behind your ramparts, and when the shells
came you ran into your casemates. No one could take anything from you.
Those whose houses are burned will receive larger indemnities than they
are worth; the old, worm-eaten furniture will be replaced by new, and
more than one whose tongue was hanging before the campaign can rub his
hands and stick out his stomach, saying: 'The war has made me a solid
citizen; I have paid my debts and I pass for a famous warrior because my
cellar was bullet proof. I will devote myself to staying in my country
to buy cheap the goods of those who are going away with the money from
my indemnities; I will sacrifice myself to the end as I have done from
the beginning.' Yes, that kind of war is agreeable; behind strong walls
all goes well. While we poor peasants, we were obliged to feed the
enemies, to give them hay, straw, barley, oats, wheat, and even our
cattle, do you hear?--our last resource. They took my two cows, and now
who shall I ask to repay me for them?"
This was too much. When he said that, the effrontery of the rascal made
me so indignant that I could not help calling to him from my place:
"Ah! wicked scoundrel, do you dare to boast of your sufferings and of
your noble conduct during our misfortunes? Speak of your sacrifices and
the good example that your daughters set. Tell those gentlemen how,
having searched the country with a squad of Germans, who gave you your
choice among all the animals of the mountains and the plain, to replace
your wretched beasts, after having stolen, by this means, my two
beautiful Swiss cows, you are not yet satisfied. You dare to complain,
and to undervalue honest folk who have done their duty?"
As I spoke, thinking that this rascal was the cause of the grandmother's
illness, I grew more and more angry; I would have restrained myself, but
it was too much for me, and all at once, seizing my stick with both
hands, I rushed upon him to knock him down.
Fortunately, Fixeri, the baker, who was sitting beside this rascal,
seeing my uplifted stick, parried the blow with his chair, saying:
"Father Frederick, what are you thinking about?"
This had a terrible effect; all the room was in a commotion and trying
to separate us. He, the thief, finding himself behind the others, shook
his fist at me and cried:
"Old rascal! I will make you pay for that! The Germans would have
nothing to do with you. The Oberfoerster turned you out. You would have
liked to have served under them, but they knew you; they slammed the
door in your face. That annoys you. You insult honest people; but look
out, you will hear from me soon."
These astounding lies made me still more furious; it took five or six
men to hold me, so as to prevent me from getting at him.
I should have ended by turning everything upside down, if the _landwehr_
had not called a party of watchmen who were passing along the road.
Then, hearing the butt ends of the muskets as they were grounded at the
door, and seeing the helmets in front of the window, I sat down again,
and everything calmed down.
The corporal came in; Mme. Vacheron made him take a glass of wine at the
bar, and as the noise had ceased, after wiping his mustaches, he went
out, making the military salute. But Toubac and I looked at each other
with sparkling eyes and quivering lips. He knew, the wretch, that now
his shame would be discovered all through the city, and that made him
beside himself with rage.
As for me, I thought, "Only manage to be in my way going to Biechelberg;
I will pay you off for all that you have done; the poor grandmother will
be avenged."
He, doubtless, had the same thoughts, for he looked at me sideways, with
his rascally smile. I was very glad when Dr. Simperlin appeared on the
threshold of the room, making me a sign to follow him.
I left at once, after having paid for my glass of wine, and we set out
for Graufthal.
*XXX*
You know, George, how much bad weather adds to one's melancholy. It was
sleeting, the great ruts full of water were ruffled by the wind. Dr.
Simperlin and I walked for a long time in silence, one behind the other,
taking care to avoid the puddles in which one could sink up to his
knees.
Farther on, after having passed the Biechelberg, on the firmer ground of
the forest, I told the doctor about the offers that the Oberfoerster had
made to us, and the refusal of all our guards except Jacob Hepp; of our
leaving the forest house, and of our little establishment at Ykel's, in
a cold corner of the wretched inn, under the rocks, where the
grandmother had not ceased to cough for six weeks.
He listened to me with bent head, and said at the end that it was very
hard to leave one's home, one's fields, one's meadows, and the trees
that one has planted; but that one should never draw back before one's
duty; and that he also was about to leave the country with his wife and
children, abandoning his practice, the fruit of his labour for many
years, so as not to become one of the herd of King William.
Talking thus, about three o'clock, we reached the wretched tavern of
Graufthal. We ascended the little staircase. Marie-Rose had heard us;
she was at the door, and hastened to offer a chair to Dr. Simperlin.
The doctor looked at the black beams of the ceiling, the narrow windows,
the little stove, and said:
"It is very small and very dark for people accustomed to the open air."
He was thinking of our pretty house in the valley, with its large,
shining windows, its white walls. Ah! the times had changed sadly.
At last, having rested for a few minutes, to get his breath, he said:
"Let us go see the invalid."
We entered the little side room together. The day was declining; we had
to light the lamp, and the doctor, leaning over the bed, looked at the
poor old woman, saying:
"Well, grandmother Anne, I was passing by Graufthal, and Father
Frederick beckoned me in; he told me that you were not very well."
Then the grandmother, entirely aroused, recognised him and answered:
"Ah! it is you, M. Simperlin. Yes, yes; I have suffered, and I suffer
still. God grant it will soon be over!"
She was so yellow, so wrinkled and so thin, that one thought when one
looked at her:
"Good heavens, how can our poor lady continue to exist in such a
condition!"
And her hair, formerly gray, now white as snow, her hollow cheeks, her
eyes glittering, and a forehead all shrivelled with wrinkles, made her,
so to speak, unrecognisable.
The doctor questioned her; she answered very well to all his questions.
He listened with his ear at her chest, and then at her back, while I
held her up. At last he said, smiling:
"Well, well, grandmother, we are not yet in danger. This bad cold will
pass away with the winter; only you must keep yourself warm, and not
give way to sad thoughts. You will soon return to the forest house; all
this cannot last."
"Yes, yes," said she, looking at us. "I hope that all will come right;
but I am very old."
"Bah! when one has kept up like you, is one old? All this has been
caused by a draught; you must take care of draughts, Mlle. Marie-Rose.
Come, keep up your courage, grandmother."
So said the doctor; the grandmother seemed a little reassured.
We left the room, and outside, when I was questioning him and my
daughter was listening, Dr. Simperlin asked me:
"Shall I speak before Mlle. Marie-Rose?"
"Yes," I answered, "for my poor daughter takes care of the invalid, and
she ought to know all; if the illness is serious, if we are to lose the
last creature who loves us and whom we love--well, it is always best to
know it beforehand, than to be struck by the misfortune without having
been warned."
"Well," said he, "the poor woman is ill not only because of her old age,
but principally because of the grief which is sapping her constitution.
She has something preying upon her mind, and it is that which makes her
cough. Take care not to grieve her; hide your troubles from her. Always
look gay before her. Tell her that you have strong hopes. If she looks
at you, smile at her. If she is uneasy, tell her it is nothing. Let no
one come in, for fear they should tell her bad news; that is the best
remedy I can give you."
While he spoke, Marie-Rose, who was very much alarmed, was coughing
behind her hand, with a little hacking cough; he interrupted himself,
and, looking at her, he said:
"Have you coughed like that for any length of time, Mlle. Marie-Rose?"
"For some time," she answered, flushing.
Then he took her arm and felt her pulse, saying as he did so:
"You must be careful and look after yourself, too; this place is not
healthy. Have you fever at nights?"
"No, sir."
"Well, so much the better; but you must take care of yourself; you must
think as little as possible of sad things."
Having said that, he took his hat from my bed and his cane from the
corner, and said to me, as we were descending the stairs together:
"You must come to the city to-morrow, and you will find a little bottle
at the shop of Reeb, the apothecary; you must give three drops of it, in
a glass of water, morning and evening, to the grandmother; it is to calm
that suffocating feeling; and look after your daughter, too; she is very
much changed. When I remember Marie-Rose, as fresh and as healthy as
she was, six months ago, it makes me uneasy. Take care of her."
"Gracious Heavens!" said I to myself, in despair; "take care of her!
Yes, yes, if I could give her my own existence; but how take care of
people who are overwhelmed by fears, grief, and regrets?"
And, thinking of it, I could have cried like a child. M. Simperlin saw
it, and, on the threshold, shaking my hand, he said:
"We, too, are very sick; is it not so, Father Frederick? Yes, terribly
sick. Our hearts are breaking; each thought kills us; but we are men;
we must have courage enough for everybody."
I wanted to accompany him at least to the end of the valley, for the
night had come; but he refused, saying:
"I know the way. Go up stairs, Father Frederick, and be calm before
your mother and your daughter; it is necessary."
He then went away and I returned to our apartments.
*XXXI*
Two or three days passed away. I had gone to the town to get the potion
that the doctor had ordered from Reeb, the apothecary; the grandmother
grew calmer; she coughed less; we talked to her only of peace,
tranquility, and the return of Jean Merlin, and the poor woman was
slowly recovering; when, one morning, two Prussian _gens-d'armes_
stopped at the inn; as those people usually passed on without halting,
it surprised me, and, a few moments later, Father Ykel's daughter came
to tell me to go down stairs, that some one was asking for me.
When I went down, I found those two tall fellows, with jack-boots,
standing in the middle of the room; their helmets almost touched the
ceiling. They asked me if they were speaking to the person known as
Frederick, formerly the brigadier forester of Toementhal. I answered in
the affirmative; and one of them, taking off his big gloves, in order to
fumble in his knapsack, gave me a letter, which I read at once.
It was an order from the commander of Phalsbourg to leave the country
within twenty-four hours!
You understand, George, what an impression that made on me; I turned
pale and asked what could have drawn upon me so terrible a sentence.
"That is no affair of ours," answered one of the _gens-d'armes_. "Try
to obey, or we will have to take other measures."
Thereupon they mounted their horses again and rode off; and Father Ykel,
alone with me, seeing me cast down and overwhelmed by such an
abomination, not knowing himself what to say, or to think, cried out:
"In the name of Heaven, Frederick, what have you been doing? You are
not a man of any importance, and, in our little village, I should have
thought they would have forgotten you long ago!"
I made no reply; I remembered nothing; I thought only of the grief of my
daughter and of the poor old grandmother when they learned of this new
misfortune.
However, at last I remembered my imprudent words at the Cafe Vacheron,
the day of my dispute with Toubac; and Father Ykel at the first word
told me that it all came from that; that Toubac had certainly denounced
me; that there was only one thing left for me to do, and that was to go
at once to the commander and beg him to grant me a little time, in
consideration of the grandmother, over eighty years of age, seriously
ill, and who would certainly die on the road. He also sent for the
schoolmaster, and gave me, as Mayor of the parish, a regular attestation
concerning my good qualities, my excellent antecedents, the unhappy
position of our family; in short, he said all the most touching and the
truest things that could be said on such an occasion. He also
recommended me to go to M. Simperlin, too, and get a certificate of
illness, to confirm his attestation, thinking that thus the commander
would be touched and would wait till the poor old woman was well enough
to travel.
In my trouble, seeing nothing else to do, I set out. Marie-Rose knew
nothing of it, nor the grandmother, either; I had not the courage to
announce the blow that was threatening us. To set out alone, to fly far
away from those savages, who coolly plunged us into all sorts of
miseries, would have been nothing to me; but the others! Ah! I dared
not think of it!
Before noon I was at Phalsbourg, in a frightful state of wretchedness;
all the misfortunes that crushed us rose before my eyes.
I saw the doctor, who declared simply in his certificate that the
invalid, who was old, weak, and, moreover, entirely without resources,
could not stand a journey, even of two hours, without dying.
"There," said he, giving me the paper, "that is the exact truth. I
might add that your departure will kill her also, but that would be
nothing to the commander; if this does not touch his heart, the rest
would be useless also."
I went then to the commander's quarters, which were in the old
government house, in the Rue du College. The humiliation of addressing
supplications to rascals whom I detested was not the least of my
sorrows; that I, an old French forester, an old servant of the state,
gray-headed and on the point of retiring on a pension, should stoop to
implore compassion from enemies as hard-hearted, as proud of their
victories, gained by sheer force of numbers, as they were! However, for
the grandmother, for the widow of old Burat, I could bear everything.
A tall rogue, in uniform, and with red whiskers, made me wait a long
time in the vestibule; they were at breakfast, and only about one
o'clock was I allowed to go up stairs. Up there another sentinel
stopped me, and then, having received permission to enter a rather large
room, opening on the garden of the Arsenal, I knocked at the commander's
door, who told me to come in. I saw a large, red-faced man, who was
walking to and fro, smoothing down the sleeves of his uniform and
puffing out his cheeks in an ill-natured way. I told him humbly of my
position, and gave him my certificates, which he did not even take the
trouble to read, but flung them on the table.
"That has nothing at all to do with it," said he sharply; "you are
described as a dangerous person, a determined enemy of the Germans. You
prevented your men from entering our service; your son-in-law has gone
to join the bandits of Gambetta. You boasted openly in a restaurant of
having refused the offers of the Oberfoerster of Zornstadt; that is four
times more than is necessary to deserve being turned out of doors."