CHAPTER XVII.

OUGHT WATERLOO TO BE APPLAUDED?

There exists a highly respectable liberal school, which does not

detest Waterloo, but we do not belong to it. For us Waterloo is

only the stupefied date of liberty; for such an eagle to issue

from such a shell is assuredly unexpected. Waterloo, if we place

ourselves at the culminating point of the question, is intentionally

a counter-revolutionary victory,--it is Europe against France; it

is Petersburg, Berlin, and Vienna against Paris; it is the _statu

quo_ opposed to the initiative; it is the 14th July, 1789, attacked

through March 20, 1815; it is all the monarchies clearing the decks

to conquer the indomitable French spirit of revolt. The dream was to

extinguish this vast people which had been in a state of eruption

for six-and-twenty years; and for this purpose, Brunswick, Nassau,

the Romanoffs, Hohenzollern, and the Hapsburger coalesced with the

Bourbons, and Waterloo carries divine right on its pillion. It is true

that as the Empire was despotic, Royalty, by the natural reaction

of things, was compelled to be liberal, and a constitutional order

issued from Waterloo, much to the regret of the conquerors. The fact

is, that the Revolution can never be really conquered, and being

providential and absolutely fatal, it constantly reappears,--before

Waterloo in Napoleon overthrowing the old thrones; after Waterloo in

Louis XVIII. granting and enduring the charter. Bonaparte places a

postilion on the throne of Naples, and a sergeant on the throne of

Sweden, employing inequality to demonstrate equality; Louis XVIII. at

St. Ouen countersigns the declaration of the rights of man. If you

wish to understand what revolution is, call it progress; and if you

wish to understand what progress is, call it to-morrow. To-morrow ever

does its work irresistibly and does it to-day, and it ever strangely

attains its object. It employs Wellington to make an orator of Foy who

was only a soldier. Foy falls at Hougomont and raises himself in the

tribune. Such is the process of progress, and that workman has no bad

tools: it fits to its divine work the man who bestrode the Alps and the

old tottering patient of Père Élysée, and it employs both the gouty man

and the conqueror,--the conqueror externally, the gouty man at home.

Waterloo, by cutting short the demolition of thrones by the sword, had

no other effect than to continue the revolutionary work on another

side. The sabres have finished, and the turn of the thinkers arrives;

the age which Waterloo wished to arrest marched over it, and continued

its route, and this sinister victory was gained by liberty.

Still it is incontestable that what triumphed at Waterloo; what smiled

behind Wellington; what procured him all the marshals' staffs of

Europe, including, by the way, that of Marshal of France; what rolled

along joyously the wheelbarrows of earth mingled with bones to erect

the foundation for the lion, on whose pedestal is inscribed the date

June 18, 1815; what encouraged Blücher in cutting down the routed army;

and what from the plateau of Mont St. Jean hovered over France like a

prey,--was the counter-revolution. It is the counter-revolution that

muttered the hideous word "Dismemberment"; but on reaching Paris it had

a close view of the crater, it felt that the ashes burned its feet, and

it reflected. It went back to the job of stammering a charter.

Let us only see in Waterloo what there really is in it. There is no

intentional liberty, for the counter-revolution was involuntarily

liberal in the same way as Napoleon, through a corresponding

phenomenon, was involuntarily a Revolutionist. On June 18, 1815,

Robespierre on horseback was thrown.

Les Misérables, v. 2/5: Cosette · 第 17 / 22 章