Two days afterward I was married to Catherine at Aunt Gredel's at
Quatre Vents. Mr. Goulden represented my father. Zebede was my best
man, and some old comrades remaining from the battalion were also at
the wedding. The next day we were installed in our two little rooms
over the workshop at Father Goulden's, Catherine and I. Many years
have rolled away since then! Mr. Goulden, Aunt Gredel, and the old
comrades have all passed away, and Catherine's hair is as white as
snow! Yet often, even now, when I look at her, those times come back
again, and I see her as she was at twenty, fresh and rosy, I see her
arrange the flower-pots in the chamber-window, I hear her singing to
herself, I see the sun opposite, and then we descend the steep little
staircase and say together, as we go into the workshop: "Good-morning,
Mr. Goulden;" he turns, smiles, and answers, "Good-morning, my
children, good-morning!" Then he kisses Catherine and she commences to
sweep and rub the furniture and prepare the soup, while we examine the
work we have to do during the day.
Ah, those beautiful days, that charming life. What joy in being young
and in having a simple, good, and industrious wife! How our hearts
rejoice, and the future spreads out so far--so far--before us! We
shall never be old; we shall always love each other, and always keep
those we love! We shall always be of good heart; we shall always take
our Sunday walk arm in arm to Bonne-Fontaine; we shall always sit on
the moss in the woods, and hear the bees and May bugs buzzing in the
great trees filled with light; we shall always smile! What a life!
what a life!
And at night we shall go softly home to the nest, as we silently look
at the golden trains which spread over the sky from Wecham to the
forests of Mittelbronn, we shall press each other's hand when we hear
the little clock at Pfalzbourg ring out the "Angelus," and those of all
the villages will respond through the twilight. Oh, youth! oh, life!
All is before me just as it was fifty years ago; but other sparrows and
larks sing and build in the spring, other blossoms whiten the great
apple-trees. And have we changed too, and grown old like the old
people of those days? That alone makes me believe that we shall become
young again, that we shall renew our loves and rejoin Father Goulden
and Aunt Gredel and all our dear friends. Otherwise we should be too
unhappy in growing old. God would not send us pain without hope. And
Catherine believes it too. Well! at that time we were perfectly happy,
everything was beautiful to us, nothing troubled our joy.
It was when the allies were passing through our city by hundreds of
thousands on their way home. Cavalry, artillery, infantry, foot and
horse, with oak leaves in their shakos, on their caps, and on the ends
of their muskets and lances. They shouted so that you could hear them
a league away. Just as you hear the chaffinches, thrushes, and
blackbirds, and thousands of other birds in the autumn. At any other
time this would have made me sad, because it was the sign of our
defeat, but I consoled myself by thinking that they were going away,
never to return. And when Zebede came to tell me that every day the
Russian, Austrian, Prussian, and Bavarian officers crossed the city to
visit our new commandant, Mons. de la Faisanderie, who was an old
emigre, and who covered them with honors--that such an officer of the
battalion had provoked one of these strangers, and that such another
half-pay officer had killed two or three in duels at the "Roulette," or
the "Green Tree," or the "Flower Basket," for they were everywhere--our
soldiers could not bear the sight of the foreigners, there were fights
everywhere, and the litters of the hospital were constantly going and
coming--when Zebede told me all these things, and when he said that so
many officers had been put upon half-pay in order to replace them by
officers from Coblentz, and that the soldiers were to be compelled to
go to mass in full uniform, that the priests were everything and
epaulettes nothing any more; instead of being vexed, I only said, "Bah!
all these things will get settled by and by. So long as we can have
quiet, and can live and labor in peace, we will be satisfied."
I did not think that it is not enough that one is satisfied; to
preserve peace and tranquillity, all must be so likewise. I was like
Aunt Gredel, who found everything right now that we were married. She
came very often to see us, with her basket full of fresh eggs, fruits,
vegetables, and cakes for our housekeeping, and she would say:
"Oh! Mr. Goulden, there is no need to ask if the children are well,
you have only to look at their faces."
And to me she would say: "There is some difference, Joseph, between
being married, and trudging along under a knapsack and musket at
Lutzen!"
"I believe you, Mamma Gredel," I would answer.
Then she would sit down, with her hands on her knees, and say: "All
this comes from peace; peace makes everybody happy, and to think of
that mob of barefoot beggars who shout against the King!"
At first Mr. Goulden, who was at work, would say nothing, but when she
kept on he would say, "Come, Mother Gredel, a little moderation, you
know that opinion is free now, we have two chambers and constitution,
and each one has a voice."
"But it is also true," said aunt looking at me maliciously, "that one
must hold his tongue from time to time, and that shows a difference
too."
Mr. Goulden never went farther than this, for he looked upon aunt as a
good woman, but who was not worth the trouble of converting. He would
only laugh when she went too far, and matters went on without jarring
until something new happened. At first there was an order from Nancy
to compel the people to close all their shutters during service on
Sunday--Jews, Lutherans, and all. There was no more noise in the inns
and wine-shops, it was still as death in the city during mass and
vespers. The people said nothing, but looked at each other as if they
were afraid.
The first Sunday that our shutters were closed, Mr. Goulden seemed very
sad, and said, as we were dining in the dark, "I had hoped, my
children, that all this was over, and that people would have
common-sense, and that we should be tranquil for years, but unhappily I
see that these Bourbons are of the same race as Dagobert. Affairs are
growing serious."
He did not say anything else on this Sunday, and went out in the
afternoon to read the papers. Everybody who could read went, while the
peasants were at mass, to read the papers after shutting their shops.
The citizens and master-workmen then got in the habit of reading the
papers, and a little later they wanted a Casino. I remember that
everybody talked of Benjamin Constant and placed great confidence in
him. Mr. Goulden liked him very much, and as he was accustomed to go
every evening to Father Colin's, to read of what had taken place, we
also heard the news. He told us that the Duke d'Angouleme was at
Bordeaux, the Count d'Artois at Marseilles, they had promised this, and
they had said that.
Catherine was more curious than I, she liked to hear all the news there
was in the country, and when Mr. Goulden said anything, I could see in
her eyes that she thought he was right. One evening he said, "The Duke
de Berry is coming here."
We were greatly astonished. "What is he going to do here, Mr.
Goulden?" asked Catherine.
"He is coming to review the regiment," he answered, "I have a great
curiosity to see him. The papers say that he looks like Bonaparte, but
that he has a great deal more mind. It is not astonishing for if a
legitimate prince had no more sense than the son of a peasant it would
be a great pity. But you have seen Bonaparte, Joseph, and you can
judge of the matter."
You can imagine how this news excited the country. From that day
nothing was thought of but erecting triumphal arches, and making white
flags, and the people from all the villages kept coming with their
carts covered with garlands. They raised a triumphal arch at
Pfalzbourg and another near Saverne. Every evening after supper
Catherine and I went out to see how the work progressed. It was
between the hotel "de la Ville de Metz" and the shop of the
confectioner Duerr, right across the street. The old carpenter Ulrich
and his boys built it. It was like a great gate covered with garlands
of oak leaves, and over the front were displayed magnificent white
flags.
While they were doing this, Zebede came to see us several times. The
prince was to come from Metz, the regiment had received letters, which
represented him as being as severe as if he had gained fifty battles.
But what vexed Zebede most was, that the prince called our old
officers, "Soldiers of fortune."
He arrived the 1st of October, at six in the evening, we heard the
cannon when he was at Gerberhoff. He alighted at the "Ville de Metz,"
without going under the arch. The square was crowded with officers in
full uniform, and from all the windows the people shouted, "Long live
the King, Long live the Duke de Berry," just as they cried in the time
of Napoleon, "Long live the Emperor."
Mr. Goulden and Catherine and I could not get near because of the
crowd, and we only saw the carriages and the hussars file past. A
picket near our house cut off all communication. That same evening he
received the corps of officers and condescended to accept a dinner
offered to him by the Sixth, but he only invited Colonel Zaepfel.
After the dinner, from which they did not rise till ten o'clock, the
principal citizens gave a ball at the college. All the officers and
all the friends of the Bourbons were present in black coats, and
breeches and stockings of white silk, to meet the prince, and the young
girls of good families were there in crowds, dressed in white. I still
seem to hear the horses of the escort as they passed in the middle of
the night amid the thousands shouting "Vive le Roi! Vive le Duc de
Berry!"
All the windows were illuminated, and before those of the commandant
there was a great shield of sky blue, and the crown and the three
fleur-de-lis in gold, sparkled in the centre. The great hall of the
college echoed with the music of the regimental band.
Mademoiselle Bremer, who had a very fine voice, was to sing the air of
"Vive Henri IV." before the prince. But all the village knew the next
day, that she had been so confused by the sight of the prince, that she
could not utter a word, and everybody said, "Poor Mademoiselle
Felicite, poor Mademoiselle Felicite."
The ball lasted all night. We--Mr. Goulden, Catherine, and I--were
asleep, when about three in the morning we were wakened by the hussars
going by and the shouts of "Vive le Duc de Berry." These princes must
have excellent health to be able to go to all the balls and dinners
which are offered to them on their journeys. And it must become very
tiresome at last to be called "Your Majesty," "Your Excellence," "Your
Goodness," and "Your Justice," and everything else that can be thought
of, that is new and extraordinary, in order to make them believe that
the people adore them and look upon them as gods. If they do despise
the men at last it is not astonishing. If the same thing were done to
us we might think ourselves eagles too.
What I have told you is exactly the truth. I have exaggerated nothing.
The next day they began again with new enthusiasm. The weather was
very fine, but as the prince had slept badly, and the children who
wished to imitate the court without succeeding, annoyed him, and he
thought perhaps, that they had not done him sufficient honor and had
not shouted "Vive le Roi, Vive le Duc de Berry" loud and long
enough--for all the _soldiers_ kept silent--he was in a very bad humor.
I saw him very well that day, while the review was taking place--the
soldiers occupied the sides of the square, we were at Wittman's, the
leather merchant, on the first floor--and also during the consecration
of the flag and the Te Deum at the church, for we had the fourth pew in
front of the choir. They said he looked like Napoleon, but it was not
true; he was a good-looking fat fellow, short and thick, and pale with
fatigue, and not at all lively, quite the contrary. During the service
he did nothing but yawn and rock back and forth like a pendulum. I am
telling you what I saw myself, and that shows how blind people are,
they want to find resemblances everywhere.
During the review, too, I remembered that the Emperor always came on
horseback, and so would discover at a glance if everything was in
order; instead of this, the duke came along the ranks on foot, and two
or three times he found fault with old soldiers, examining them from
head to foot. That was the worst. Zebede was one of these men, and he
never could forgive him.
That was well enough for the review, but a more serious thing was the
distribution of the crosses and the fleur-de-lis. When I tell you that
all the mayors and their assistants, the councillors from the
Baraques-d'en-Haut and the Baraques-du-bois-de-Chenes, from Holderloch
and Hirschland, received the fleur-de-lis because they headed their
village deputations with a white flag, and that Pinacle received the
cross of honor, for having arrived first with the band of the Bohemian,
Waldteufel, who played "Vive Henri IV.," and had five or six white
flags larger than the others; when I tell you that, you will understand
what reasonable people thought. It was a real scandal!
In the afternoon about four o'clock, the prince left for Strasbourg,
accompanied by all the royalists in the country on horseback, some on
good mounts, and others, like Pinacle, on old hacks.
One event the Pfalzbourgers of that day remember until this, and that
is, that after the prince was seated in his carriage and was driving
slowly away, one of the emigre officers with his head uncovered and in
uniform, ran after him, crying in a pitiful voice, "Bread, my prince,
bread for my children!" That made the people blush, and they ran away
for shame.
We went home in silence, Father Goulden was lost in thought, when Aunt
Gredel arrived.
"Well! Mother Gredel, you ought to be satisfied," said he.
"And why?"
"Because Pinacle has been decorated."
She turned quite livid, and said after a minute:
"That is the greatest trumpery that ever was seen. If the prince had
known what he is, he would have hung him rather than decorate him with
the cross of honor."
"That is just the trouble," said Mr. Goulden, "those people do many
such things without knowing it, and when they do know, it is too late."