Since you wish to know about the blockade of Phalsburg in 1814, I will
tell you all about it, said Father Moses of the Jews' street.
I lived then in the little house on the corner, at the right of the
market. My business was selling iron by the pound, under the arch
below, and I lived above with my wife Sorle (Sarah) and my little
Safel, the child of my old age.
My two other boys, Itzig and Fromel, had gone to America, and my
daughter Zeffen was married to Baruch, the leather-dealer, at Saverne.
Besides my iron business, I traded in old shoes, old linen, and all the
articles of old clothing which conscripts sell on reaching the depot,
where they receive their military outfit. Travelling pedlers bought
the old linen of me for paper-rags, and the other things I sold to the
country people.
This was a profitable business, because thousands of conscripts passed
through Phalsburg from week to week, and from month to month. They
were measured at once at the mayoralty, clothed, and filed off to
Mayence, Strasburg, or wherever it might be.
This lasted a long time; but at length people were tired of war,
especially after the Russian campaign and the great recruiting of 1813.
You may well suppose, Fritz, that I did not wait till this time before
sending my two boys beyond the reach of the recruiting officers'
clutches. They were boys who did not lack sense. At twelve years old
their heads were clear enough, and rather than go and fight for the
King of Prussia, they would see themselves safe at the ends of the
earth.
At evening, when we sat at supper around the lamp with its seven
burners, their mother would sometimes cover her face and say:
"My poor children! My poor children! When I think that the time is
near when you will go in the midst of musket and bayonet fire--in the
midst of thunder and lightning!--oh, how dreadful!"
And I saw them turn pale. I smiled at myself and thought: "You are no
fools. You will hold on to your life. That is right!"
If I had had children capable of becoming soldiers, I should have died
of grief. I should have said, "These are not of my race!"
But the boys grew stronger and handsomer. When Itzig was fifteen he
was doing a good business. He bought cattle in the villages on his own
account, and sold them at a profit to butcher Borich at Mittelbronn;
and Fromel was not behind him, for he made the best bargains of the old
merchandise, which we had heaped in three barracks under the market.
I should have liked well to keep the boys with me. It was my delight
to see them with my little Safel--the curly head and eyes bright as a
squirrel's--yes, it was my joy! Often I clasped them in my arms
without a word, and even they wondered at it; I frightened them; but
dreadful thoughts passed through my mind after 1812. I knew that
whenever the Emperor had returned to Paris, he had demanded four
hundred millions of francs and two or three hundred thousand men, and I
said to myself:
"This time, everybody must go, even children of seventeen and eighteen!"
As the tidings grew worse and worse, I said to them one evening:
"Listen! you both understand trading, and what you do not yet know you
can learn. Now, if you wait a few months, you will be on the
conscription list, and be like all the rest; they will take you to the
square and show you how to load a gun, and then you will go away, and I
never shall hear of you again!"
Sorle sighed, and we all sighed together. Then, after a moment, I
continued:
"But if you set out at once for America, by the way of Havre, you will
reach it safe and sound; you will do business there as well as here;
you will make money, you will marry, you will increase according to the
Lord's promise, and you will send me back money, according to God's
commandment, 'Honor thy father and thy mother.' I will bless you as
Isaac blessed Jacob, and you will have a long life. Choose!"
They at once chose to go to America, and I went with them myself as far
as Sorreburg. Each of them had made twenty louis in his own business
so that I needed to give them nothing but my blessing.
And what I said to them has come to pass; they are both living, they
have numerous children, who are my descendants, and when I want
anything they send it to me.
Itzig and Fromel being gone, I had only Safel left, my Benjamin, dearer
even, if possible, than the others. And then, too, I had my daughter
Zeffen, married at Saverne to a good respectable man, Baruch; she was
the oldest, and had already given me a grandson named David, according
to the Lord's will that the dead should be replaced in his own family,
and David was the name of Baruch's grandfather. The one expected was
to be called after my father, Esdras.
You see, Fritz, how I was situated before the blockade of Phalsburg, in
1814. Everything had gone well up to that time, but for six weeks
everything had gone wrong in town and country. We had the typhus;
thousands of wounded soldiers surrounded the houses; the ground had
lacked laborers for the last two years, and everything was dear--bread,
meat, and drink. The people of Alsace and Lorraine did not come to
market; our stores of merchandise did not sell; and when merchandise
does not sell, it might as well be sand or stones; we are poor in the
midst of abundance. Famine comes from every quarter.
Ah, well! in spite of it all, the Lord had a great blessing in store
for me, for just at this time, early in November, came the news that a
second son was born to Zeffen, and that he was in fine health. I was
so glad that I set out at once for Saverne.
You must know, Fritz, that if I was very glad, it was not only on
account of the birth of a grandson, but also because my son-in-law
would not be obliged to leave home, if the child lived. Baruch had
always been fortunate; at the moment when the Emperor had made the
Senate vote that unmarried men must go, he had just married Zeffen; and
when the Senate voted that married men without children must go, he had
his first child. Now, after the bad news, it was voted that married
men with only one child should go, all the same, and Baruch had two.
At that time it was a fortunate thing to have quantities of children,
to keep you from being massacred; no greater blessing could be desired!
This is why I took my cane at once, to go and find out whether the
child were sound and healthy, and whether it would save its father.
But for long years to come, if God spares my life, I shall remember
that day, and what I met upon my way.
Imagine the road-side blocked, as it were, with carts filled with the
sick and wounded, forming a line all the way from Quatre-Vents to
Saverne.
The peasants who, in Alsace, were required to transport these poor
creatures, had unharnessed their horses and escaped in the night,
abandoning their carts; the hoar-frost had passed over them; there was
not motion or sign of life--all dead, as it were one long cemetery!
Thousands of ravens covered the sky like a cloud; there was nothing to
be seen but wings moving in the air, nothing to be heard but one murmur
of innumerable cries. I would not have believed that heaven and earth
could produce so many ravens. They flew down to the very carts; but
the moment a living man approached, all these creatures rose and flew
away to the forest of La Bonne-Fontaine, or the ruins of the old
convent of Dann.
As for myself, I lengthened my steps, feeling that I must not stop,
that the typhus was marching at my heels.
Happily the winter sets in early at Phalsburg. A cold wind blew from
the Schneeberg, and these strong draughts of mountain air disperse all
maladies, even, it is said, the Black Plague itself.
What I have now told you is about the retreat from Leipsic, in the
beginning of November.
When I reached Saverne, the city was crowded with troops, artillery,
infantry, and cavalry, pell-mell.
I remember that, in the principal street, the windows of an inn were
open, and a long table with its white cloth was seen, all laid, within.
All the guard of honor stopped there. These were young men of rich
families, who had money in spite of their tattered uniforms. The
moment they saw this table in passing, they leaped from their horses
and rushed into the hall. But the innkeeper, Hannes, made them pay
five francs in advance, and just as the poor things began to eat, a
servant ran in, crying out, "The Prussians! the Prussians!" They
sprang up at once and mounted their horses like madmen, without once
looking back, and in this way Hannes sold his dinner more than twenty
times.
I have often thought since that such scoundrels deserve hanging; yes,
this way of making money is not lawful business. It disgusted me.
But if I should describe the rest--the faces of the sick, the way in
which they lay, the groans they uttered, and, above all, the tears of
those who tried in vain to go on--if I should tell you this, it would
be still worse, it would be too much. I saw, on the slope of the old
tan-house bridge, a little guardsman of seventeen or eighteen years,
stretched out, with his face flat upon the stones. I have never
forgotten that boy; he raised himself from time to time, and showed his
hand as black as soot: he had a ball in the back, and his hand was half
gone. The poor fellow had doubtless fallen from a cart. Nobody dared
to help him because they heard it said, "He has the typhus! he has the
typhus." Oh, what misery! It is too dreadful to think of!
Now, Fritz, I must tell you another thing about that day, and that is
how I saw Marshal Victor.
It was late when I started from Phalsburg, and it was dark when, on
going up the principal street of Saverne, I saw all the windows of the
Hotel du Soleil illuminated from top to bottom. Two sentinels walked
to and fro under the arch, officers in full uniform went in and out,
magnificent horses were fastened to rings all along the walls; and,
within the court, the lamps of a calash shone like two stars.
The sentinels kept the street clear, but I must pass, because Baruch
dwelt farther on. I was going through the crowd, in front of the
hotel, and the first sentinel was calling out to me, "Back! back!" when
an officer of hussars, a short, stout man, with great red whiskers,
came out of the arch, and as he met me, exclaimed,
"Ah! is it you, Moses! I am glad to see you!"
He shook hands with me.
I opened my eyes with amazement, as was natural: a superior officer
shaking hands with a plain citizen is not an every-day occurrence. I
looked at him in astonishment, and recognized Commandant Zimmer.
Thirty years before we had been at Father Genaudet's school, and we had
scoured the city, the moats, and the glacis together, as children. But
since then Zimmer had been a good many times in Phalsburg, without
remembering his old comrade, Samuel Moses.
"Ho!" said he, smiling, and taking me by the arm, "come, I must present
you to the marshal."
And, in spite of myself, before I had said a word, I went in under the
arch, into a large room where two long tables, loaded with lights and
bottles, were laid for the staff-officers.
A number of superior officers, generals, colonels, commanders of
hussars, of dragoons and of chasseurs, in plumed hats, in helmets, in
red shakos, their chins in their huge cravats, their swords dragging,
were walking silently back and forth, or talking with each other, while
they waited to be called to table.
It was difficult to pass through the crowd, but Zimmer kept hold of my
arm, and led me to the end of the room, to a little lighted door.
We entered a high room, with two windows opening upon the gardens.
The marshal was there, standing, his head uncovered; his back was
toward us, and he was dictating orders which two staff-officers were
writing.
This was all which I noticed at the moment, in my confusion.
Just after we entered, the marshal turned; I saw that he had the good
face of an old Lorraine peasant. He was a tall, powerful man, with a
grayish head; he was about fifty years old, and very heavy for his age.
"Marshal, here's our man!" said Zimmer. "He is one of my old
school-mates, Samuel Moses, a first-rate fellow, who has been
traversing the country these thirty years, and knows every village in
Alsace and Lorraine."
The marshal looked at me a few steps off. I held my hat in my hand in
great fear. After looking at me a couple of seconds, he took the paper
which one of the secretaries handed him, read and signed it, then
turned back to me:
"Well, my good man," said he, "what do they say about the last
campaign? What do the people in your village think about it?"
On hearing him call me "my good man," I took courage, and answered
"that the typhus had made bad work, but the people were not
disheartened, because they knew that the Emperor with his army was at
hand."
And when he said abruptly: "Yes! But will they defend themselves?" I
answered: "The Alsatians and the Lorraines are people who will defend
themselves till death, because they love their Emperor, and they would
all be willing to die for him!"
I said that by way of prudence; but he could plainly see in my face
that I was no fighting man, for he smiled good-humoredly, and said:
"That will do, commandant, that is enough!"
The secretaries had kept on writing. Zimmer made a sign to me and we
went out together. When we were outside he called out:
"Good-by, Moses, good-by!"
The sentinels let me pass, and still trembling, I continued my journey.
I was soon knocking at the little door of Baruch's house at the end of
the lane where the cardinal's old stables were.
It was pitch dark.
What a joy it was, Fritz, after having seen all these terrible things,
to come to the place where those I loved were resting! How softly my
heart beat, and how I pitied all that power and glory which made so
many people miserable!
After a moment I heard my son-in-law enter the passage and open the
door. Baruch and Zeffen had long since ceased expecting me.
"Is it you, my father?" asked Baruch.
"Yes, my son, it is I. I am late. I have been hindered."
"Come!" said he.
And we entered the little passage, and then into the chamber where
Zeffen, my daughter, lay pale and happy, upon her bed.
She had recognized my voice. As for me, my heart beat with joy; I
could not speak; and I embraced my daughter, while I looked around to
find the little one. Zeffen held it in her arms under the coverlet.
"There he is!" she said.
Then she showed him to me in his swaddling-clothes. I saw at once that
he was plump and healthy, with his little hands closed tight, and I
exclaimed:
"Baruch, this is Esdras, my father! Let him be welcome!"
I wanted to see him without his clothes, so I undressed him. It was
warm in the little room from the lamp with seven burners. Tremblingly
I undressed him; he did not cry, and my daughter's white hands assisted
me:
"Wait, my father, wait!" said she.
My son-in-law looked on behind me. We all had tears in our eyes.
At last I had him all undressed; he was rosy, and his large head tossed
about, sleeping the sleep of centuries. Then I lifted him above my
head; I looked at his round thighs all in creases, at his little
drawn-up feet, his broad chest and plump back, and I wanted to dance
like David before the ark; I wanted to chant: "Praise the Lord! Praise
him ye servants of the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord! Blessed be
the name of the Lord from this time forth and forever more! From the
rising of the sun, unto the going down of the same, the Lord's name is
to be praised! The Lord is high above all nations, and his glory above
the heavens! Who is like unto the Lord our God, who raiseth up the
poor out of the dust, who maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to
be a joyful mother of children? Praise ye the Lord!"
Yes, I felt like chanting this, but all that I could say was: "He is a
fine, perfect child! He is going to live! He will be the blessing of
our race and the joy of our old age!"
And I blessed them all.
Then giving him back to his mother to be covered, I went to embrace the
other who was sound asleep in his cradle.
We remained there together a long time, to see each other, in this joy.
Without, horses were passing, soldiers shouting, carriages rolling by.
Here all was quiet: the mother nursed her infant.
Ah! Fritz, I am an old man now, and these far-off things are always
before me, as at the first; my heart always beats in recalling them,
and I thank God for His great goodness,--I thank Him. He has loaded me
with years, He has permitted me to see the third generation, and I am
not weary of life; I should like to live on and see the fourth and the
fifth--His will be done!
I should have liked to tell them of what had just happened to me at the
Hotel du Soleil, but everything was insignificant in comparison with my
joy; only after I had left the chamber, while I was taking a mouthful
of bread and drinking a glass of wine in the side hall so as to let
Zeffen sleep, I related the adventure to Baruch, who was greatly
surprised.
"Listen, my son," said I, "this man asked me if we want to defend
ourselves. That shows that the allies are following our armies, that
they are marching by hundreds of thousands, and that they cannot be
hindered from entering France. So you see that, in the midst of our
joy, there is danger of terrible evils; you see that all the harm which
we have been doing to others for these last ten years may return upon
us. I fear so. God grant that I may be mistaken!"
After this we went to bed. It was eleven o'clock, and the tumult
without still continued.