Only then, a little recovered from my fright, I noticed that our master
had on his new green overcoat, his fine plaited frill, and the
embroidered black skull-cap which he put on for the inspection days or
the prize distributions. Besides, all the class wore a curious solemn
look. But what surprised me most of all was to see at the end of the
room, on the seats which were usually empty, a number of the village
elders seated and silent like the rest of us; old Hansor with his
cocked hat, the former mayor, the old postman, and a lot of other
people. Everybody looked melancholy; and Hansor had brought an old
spelling book, ragged at the edges, which he held wide open on his
knees, with his big spectacles laid across the pages.
While I was wondering over all this, M. Hamel had placed himself in his
chair, and with the same grave, soft voice in which he had spoken to
me, he addressed us:--
"My children, it is the last time that I shall hold class for you. The
order is come from Berlin that only German is to be taught in the
schools of Alsace and Lorraine from now on. The new master arrives
tomorrow. Today is your last lesson in French. I ask you to be very
attentive."
These words quite upset me. Ah, the wretches! this then was what they
had posted up at the town hall.
My last lesson in French!
And I who hardly knew how to write. I should never learn then! I must
stop where I was! How I longed now for the wasted time, for the
classes when I played truant to go birds'-nesting, or to slide on the
Saar! The books which I was used to find so wearisome, so heavy to
carry--my grammar, my history--now seemed to me old friends whom I was
very sorry to part with. The same with M. Hamel. The idea that he was
going away, that I should never see him again, made me forget the
punishment and the raps with the ruler.
Poor man!
It was in honor of this last class that he had put on his Sunday
clothes, and now I understood why the elders of the village had come
and seated themselves in the schoolroom. That meant that they were
grieved not to have come oftener to the school. It was a sort of way
of thanking our master for his forty years of good service, and of
showing their respect for their country that was being taken from them.
I had come as far as this in my reflections when I heard my name
called. It was my turn to recite. What would I not have given to have
been able to say right through that famous rule of the participles,
quite loud and very clear, without a stumble; but I bungled at the
first word, and stopped short, balancing myself on my bench, with
bursting heart, not daring to raise my head. I heard M. Hamel speak to
me:--
"I shall not scold thee, my little Franz, thou must be punished enough
without that. See how it is. Every day one says, 'Bah! There is time
enough. I shall learn tomorrow.' And then see what happens. Ah! that
has been the great mistake of our Alsace, always to defer its lesson
until tomorrow. Now those folk have a right to say to us, 'What! you
pretend to be French and you cannot even speak or write your language!'
In all that, my poor Franz, it is not only thou that art guilty. We
must all bear our full share in the blame. Your parents have not cared
enough to have you taught. They liked better to send you to work on
the land or at the factory to gain a few more pence. And I too, have I
nothing to reproach myself with? Have I not often made you water my
garden instead of learning your lessons? And when I wanted to fish for
trout, did I ever hesitate to dismiss you?"
Then from one thing to another M. Hamel began to talk to us about the
French language, saying that it was the most beautiful language in the
world, the clearest, the most forceful; that we must guard it among us
and never forget it, because when a people falls into slavery, as long
as it holds firmly to its own tongue, it holds the key of its prison.
Then he took a grammar and gave us our lesson. I was astonished to
find how well I understood. All he said seemed to me so easy, so easy.
I think, too, that I never listened so hard, and that he had never
taken such pains to explain. One would have said that before going
away the poor man wished to give us all his knowledge, to ram it all
into our heads at one blow.
That lesson finished, we passed to writing. For that day M. Hamel had
prepared for us some quite fresh copies, on which was written in
beautiful round hand: _France, Alsace, France, Alsace_. They looked
like little banners floating round the class room on the rail of our
desks. To see how hard every one tried! And what a silence there was!
One could hear nothing but the scraping of the pens on the paper. Once
some cock-chafers flew in; but nobody took any heed, not even the
little ones, who worked away at their pothooks with such enthusiasm and
conscientiousness as if feeling there was something French about them.
On the roof of the school the pigeons cooed softly, and I thought to
myself, hearing them:--
"Are they to be forced to sing in German too?"
From time to time, when I raised my eyes from the page, I saw M. Hamel
motionless in his chair, looking fixedly at everything round him, as if
he would like to carry away in his eyes all his little schoolhouse.
Think of it! For forty years he had been in the same place, in his
court outside or with his class before him. Only the benches and the
desks had grown polished by the constant rubbing; the walnut trees in
the courtyard had grown up, and the honeysuckle, which he had planted
himself, now garlanded the windows up to the roof. What a heart-break
it must be for this poor man to leave all these things, and to hear his
sister coming and going in the room above, packing up their boxes, for
they were to go the next day--to leave the country forever.
All the same, what courage he had to carry out the class to the end!
After the writing we had our history lesson; then the little ones sang
all together their Ba, Be, Bi, Bo, Bu. There at the end of the room,
old Hansor put on his spectacles, and holding his spelling-book with
both hands, he spelt the letters with them. One could see that he too
did his best; his voice trembled with emotion, and it was so funny to
hear him that we all wanted to laugh and cry at once. Ah! I shall
always remember that class.
Suddenly the clock of the church rang for noon, then for the Angelus.
At the same moment, the trumpets of the Prussians returning from drill
pealed out under our windows. M. Hamel rose from his chair, turning
very pale. Never had he looked to me so tall.
"My friends," he said, "my friends, I--I--" But something choked him.
He could not finish the sentence.
Then he turned to the blackboard, took a piece of chalk, and pressing
with all his might, he wrote as large as he could:--