The next day we must answer to the call before the mayoralty. All the
children in town surrounded us and whistled. Fortunately, the
blindages of the Place d'Armes were not finished, so that we went to
learn our exercises in the large court of the college, near the _chemin
de ronde_ at the corner of the powder-house. As the pupils had been
dismissed for some time, the place was at liberty.
Imagine to yourself this large court filled with citizens in bonnets,
coats, cloaks, vests, and breeches, obliged to obey the orders of their
former tinkers, chimney-sweeps, stable-boys, now turned into corporals,
sergeants, and sergeant-majors. Imagine these peaceable men, in fours,
in sixes, in tens, stretching out their legs in concert, and marching
to the step, "One--_two_! One--_two_! Halt! Steady!" while others,
marching backward, frowning, called out insolently: "Moses, dress thy
shoulders!" "Moses, bring thy nose into line!" "Attention, Moses!
Carry arms! Ah, old shoe, thou'lt never be good for anything! Can any
one be so stupid at his age? Look--just look! Thunder! Canst thou
not do that? One--_two_! What an old blockhead! Come, begin again!
Carry arms!"
This is the way my own cobbler, Monborne, ordered me about. I believe
he would have beaten me if it had not been for Captain Vigneron.
All the rest treated their old patrons in the same way. You would have
said that it had always been so--that they had always been sergeants
and we had always been soldiers. I heaped up gall enough against this
rabble to last fifty years.
They in fine were the masters! And the only time that I remember ever
to have struck my own son, Safel, this Monborne was the cause of it.
All the children climbed upon the wall of the _chemin de ronde_ to look
at us and laugh at us. On looking up, I saw Safel among them, and made
a sign of displeasure with my finger. He went down at once; but at the
close of the exercise, when we were ordered to break ranks before the
town-house, I was seized with anger as I saw him coming toward me, and
I gave him two good boxes on the ear, and said: "Go--hiss and mock at
your father, like Shem, instead of bringing a garment to cover his
nakedness--go!"
He wept bitterly, and in this state I went home. Sorle seeing me come
in looking very pale, and the little one following me at a distance,
sobbing, came down at once to the door, and asked what was the matter.
I told her how angry I was, and went upstairs.
Sorle reproved Safel still more severely, and he came and begged my
pardon. I granted it with all my heart, as you may suppose. But when
I thought that the exercises were to be repeated every day, I would
gladly have abandoned everything if I could possibly have taken with me
my house and wares.
Yes, the worst thing I know of is to be ordered about by bullies who
cannot restrain themselves when chance sets them up for a moment, and
who are not capable of receiving the idea that in this life everybody
has his turn.
I should say too much if I continued on this head. I would rather go
on.
The Lord granted me a great consolation. I had scarcely laid aside my
cartridge-box and musket, so as to sit at the table, when Sorle
smilingly handed me a letter.
"Read that, Moses," said she, "and you will feel better."
I opened and read it. It was the notice from Pezenas that my dozen
pipes of spirits were on their way. I drew a long breath.
"Ah! that is good, now!" I exclaimed; "the spirits are coming by the
ordinary conveyance; they will be here in three weeks. We hear nothing
from the direction of Strasburg and Sarrebruck; the allies are
collecting still, but they do not move; my spirits of wine are safe!
They will sell well! It is a grand thing!"
I smiled, and was quite myself again, when Sorle pushed the arm-chair
toward me, saying: "And what do you think of _that_, Moses?"
She gave me, as she spoke, a second letter, covered with large stamps,
and at the first glance I recognized the handwriting of my two sons,
Fromel and Itzig.
It was a letter from America! My heart swelled with joy, and I
silently thanked the Lord, deeply moved by this great blessing. I
said: "The Lord is good. His understanding is infinite. He delighteth
not in the strength of a horse; he taketh not pleasure in the legs of a
man. He taketh pleasure in those that hope in his mercy."
Thus I spoke to myself while I read the letter, in which my sons
praised America, the true land of commerce, the land of enterprising
men, where everything is free, where there are no taxes or impositions,
because people are not brought up for war, but for peace; the land,
Fritz, where every man becomes, through his own labor, his
intelligence, his economy, and his good intentions, what he deserves to
be, and every one takes his proper place, because no important matter
is decided without the consent of all;--a just and sensible thing, for
where all contribute, all should give their opinions.
This was one of their first letters. Fromel and Itzig wrote me that
they had made so much money in a year, that they need no longer carry
their own packs, but had three fine mules, and that they had just
opened at Catskill, near Albany, in the State of New York, an
establishment for the exchange of European fabrics with cow-hides,
which were very abundant in that region.
Their business was prospering, and they were respected in the town and
its vicinity. While Fromel was travelling on the road with their three
mules, Itzig stayed at home, and when Itzig went in his turn his
brother had charge of the shop.
They already knew of our misfortunes, and thanked the Lord for having
given them such parents, to save them from destruction. They would
have liked to have us with them, and after what had just happened, in
being maltreated by a Monborne, you can believe that I should have been
very glad to be there. But it was enough to receive such good news,
and in spite of all our misfortunes, I said to myself, as I thought of
Frichard: "But it is only to me that you can be an ass! You may harm
me here, but you can't hurt my boys. You are nothing but a miserable
secretary of mayoralty, while I am going to sell my spirits of wine. I
shall gain double and treble. I will put my little Safel at your side,
under the market, and he will beckon to everybody that is going into
your shop; and he will sell to them at cost price rather than lose
their custom, and he will make you die of anger."
The tears came into my eyes as I thought of it, and I ended by
embracing Sorle, who smiled, full of satisfaction.
We pardoned Safel over again, and he promised to go no more with the
cursed race. Then, after dinner, I went down to my cellar, one of the
finest in the city, twelve feet high and thirty-five feet long, all
built of hewn stone, under the main street. It was as dry as an oven,
and even improved wine in the long run.
As my spirits of wine might arrive before the end of the month, I
arranged four large beams to hold the pipes, and saw that the well, cut
in the rock, had enough water for mixing it.
On going up about four o'clock, I perceived the old architect, Kromer,
who was walking across the market, his measuring-stick under his arm.
"Ah!" said I, "come down a minute into my cellar; do you think it will
be safe against the bombs?"
We went down together. He examined it, measured the stones and the
thickness of the arch with his stick, and said: "You have six feet of
earth over the key-stone. When the bombs enter here, Moses, it will be
all over with all of us. You may sleep with both ears shut."
We took a good drink of wine from the spout, and went up in good
spirits.
Just as we set foot on the pavement, a door in the main street opened
with a crash, and there was a sound of glass broken. Kromer raised his
nose, and said: "Look yonder, Moses, at Camus's steps! Something is
going on."
We stopped and saw at the top of the railed staircase a sergeant of
veterans, in a gray coat, with his musket dangling, dragging Father
Camus by the collar. The poor old man clung to the door with both
hands to keep himself from falling; he succeeded at last in getting
loose, by tearing the collar from his coat, and the door shut with a
noise like thunder.
"If war begins now between citizens and soldiers," said Kromer, "the
Germans and Russians will have fine sport."
The sergeant, seeing the door shut and bolted within, tried to force it
open with blows from the butt-end of his musket, which caused a great
uproar; the neighbors came out, and the dogs barked. We were watching
it all, when we saw Burguet come along the passage in front, and begin
to talk vehemently with the sergeant. At first the man did not seem to
hear him, but after a moment he raised his musket to his shoulder with
a rough movement, and went down to the street, with his shoulders up
and his face dark and furious. He passed by us like a wild boar. He
was a veteran with three chevrons, sunburnt, with a gray mustache,
large straight wrinkles the whole length of his cheeks, and a square
chin. He muttered as he passed us, and went into the little inn of the
Three Pigeons.
Burguet followed at a distance, with his broad hat down to his
eyebrows, wrapped in his beaver-cloth great-coat, his head thrown back,
and his hands in his pockets. He smiled.
"Well," said I, "what has been going on at Camus's?"
"Oh!" said he, "it is Sergeant Trubert, of the fifth company of
veterans, who had just been playing his tricks. The old fellow wants
everything to go by rule and measure. In the last fortnight he has had
five different lodgings, and cannot get along with anybody. Everybody
complains of him, but he always makes excuses which the governor and
commandant think excellent."
"And at Camus's house?"
"Camus has not too much room for his own family. He wished to send the
sergeant to the inn; but the sergeant had already chosen Camus's bed to
sleep in, had spread his cloak upon it, and said, 'My billet is for
this place. I am very comfortable here, and do not wish to change.'
Old Camus was vexed, and finally, as you have just seen, the sergeant
tried to pull him out, and beat him."
Burguet smiled, but Kromer said: "Yes, all that is laughable. And yet
when we think of what such people must have done on the other side of
the Rhine!"
"Ah!" exclaimed Burguet, "it was not very pleasant for the Germans, I
am sure. But it is time to go and read the newspaper. God grant that
the time for paying our old debts may not have come! Good-evening,
gentlemen."
He continued his walk on the side of the square. Kromer went toward
his own house, while I shut the two doors of my cellar; after which I
went home.
This was the tenth of December. It was already very cold. Every
night, after five or six o'clock, the roofs and pavements were covered
with frost. There was no more noise without, because people kept at
home, around their stoves.
I found Sorle in the kitchen, preparing our supper. The red flame
flickered upon the hearth around the saucepan. These things are now
before my eyes, Fritz--the mother, washing the plates at the stone
sink, near the gray window; little Safel blowing in his big iron pipe,
his cheeks round as an apple, his long curly hair all disordered, and
myself sitting on the stool, holding a coal to light my pipe. Yes, it
all seems here present!
We said nothing. We were happy in thinking of the spirits of wine that
were coming, of the boys who were doing so well, of the good supper
that was cooking. And who would ever have thought, then, that
twenty-five days afterward the city would be surrounded by enemies, and
shells hissing in the air?