EUGENE DE BEAUHARNAIS
At the call of her "little Charles" as she called him, Madame Teutch
came out of a little dining-room which opened upon the courtyard and
entered the kitchen. "Ah, there you are, thank God!" she cried. "Then
the ogre did not eat you, poor little Tom Thumb!"
"He was charming, on the contrary; and I don't believe that his teeth
are as long as they say."
"God grant that you never feel them! But if I heard right, yours are the
long ones. Come in here, and I will go call your future friend, who is
working as usual, poor child!"
And the citizeness Teutch ran upstairs with a youthfulness which
indicated an excess of exuberant force.
In the meantime Charles examined the preparations for one of the most
appetizing breakfasts that had ever been placed before him. He was
diverted from his occupation by the sound of the door opening. It
admitted the youth of whom the citizeness Teutch had spoken. He was a
lad of fifteen, with black eyes and curly black hair which fell over his
shoulders. His attire was elegant, and his linen of unusual whiteness.
In spite of the efforts that had evidently been made to disguise it,
everything in him betrayed the aristocrat. He approached Charles
smilingly and held out his hand to him.
"Our good hostess tells me, citizen," he said, "that I am to have the
pleasure of spending some time with you; and she added that you had
promised to like me a little. I am very glad of that, for I am sure I
shall become very much attached to you."
"And I, too," cried Charles, "with all my heart."
"Bravo, bravo!" cried Madame Teutch, coming in at this juncture. "And
now that you have greeted each other like two gentlemen--a very
dangerous thing to do in these days--embrace each other like two
comrades."
"I ask nothing better," said Eugene; and Charles sprang into his arms.
The two boys embraced with the cordiality and frankness of youth.
"Now," continued the elder of the two, "I know that your name is
Charles; mine is Eugene. I hope that since we know each other's name
there will be no more monsieur or citizen between us. Shall I set you
the example? Will you come to table, my dear Charles? I am dying of
hunger and I heard Madame Teutch say that you also had a good appetite."
"Heigho!" said Madame Teutch, "how well that was said, my little
Charles. These aristocrats, these aristocrats, they know what is right!"
"Do not say such things, my dear Madame Teuton," said Eugene, laughing;
"a worthy inn like yours should lodge nothing but sans-culottes."
"In that case I should have to forget that I had the honor of lodging
your worthy father, Monsieur Eugene; and, God knows, I pray night and
morning for him."
"You may pray for my mother at the same time, good Madame Teutch," said
the youth, wiping away a tear, "for my sister Hortense writes me that
she has been arrested and confined in the prison of the Carmelites. I
received the letter, this morning."
"My poor friend," said Charles.
"How old is your sister?" asked Madame Teutch.
"Ten."
"Poor child! send for her to come to you at once; and we will take care
of her. She can't stay alone in Paris."
"Thanks, Madame Teutch, thanks; but fortunately she is not alone. She is
with my grandmother at our Château de la Ferté-Beauharnais. But here I
have made you all sad, and I had resolved to keep this news to myself."
"Monsieur Eugene," said Charles, "when one has such notions one does not
ask for people's friendship. Now, to punish you, you are to talk of
nothing but your father and your mother and sister during all the
breakfast."
The two boys sat down at table, Madame Teutch remaining to serve them.
The task imposed on Eugene was an easy one for him. He told his young
friend that he was the last descendant of a noble family of Orléanais;
that one of his ancestors, Guillaume de Beauharnais, had married
Marguerite de Bourges in 1398; that another, Jean de Beauharnais, had
been a witness at the trial of La Pucelle (Joan of Arc); that in 1764
their estate of la Ferté-Aurain had been elevated to a marquisate under
the name of la Ferté-Beauharnais; that his uncle François had emigrated
in 1790, had become a major in the army of Condé, and had offered
himself to the president of the Convention to defend the king. As for
his father, who was at the present time under arrest on charge of
conspiracy with the enemy, he had been born at Martinique, and there had
married Mademoiselle Tascher de la Pagerie, and had brought her to
France, where they had been received at court.
Elected to the States-General by the jurisdiction of Blois, he had, on
the night of the 4th of August, been one of the first to favor the
suppression of titles and privileges. Elected a secretary of the
National Assembly, and a member of the military commission, he had,
during the preparation of the Federation, worked eagerly at the
levelling of the Champ de Mars, harnessed to the same cart as the Abbé
Sièyes. Finally he had been detailed to the Army of the North as
adjutant-general; he had commanded the camp of Soissons, refused the
Ministry of War, and accepted the fatal command of the Army of the
Rhine. The rest is known.
But it was when he spoke of the beauty, goodness, and grace of his
mother that the youth was most eloquent; and he declared that he would
now work all the more eagerly for the Marquis de Beauharnais, because in
so doing he was also working for his good mother, Josephine.
Charles, who felt a deep affection for his own parents, found infinite
delight in listening to his young companion, and did not tire of asking
him about his mother and sister. But in the midst of this conversation,
a dull report shook the window-panes of the hotel, and was immediately
followed by others.
"The cannon! the cannon!" cried Eugene, who was more accustomed to the
sounds of war than his young companion. And leaping from his chair, he
cried: "Alarm! alarm! the city is attacked!" Just then they heard the
beating of drums in several directions.
The two youths ran to the door, where Madame Teutch had preceded them.
There were already signs of great disturbance in the streets. Riders,
dressed in different uniforms, crossed each other in all directions,
probably carrying orders, while the townsfolk, armed with pikes, sabres,
and pistols, were rushing toward the Haguenau gate, crying: "Patriots,
to arms! the enemy is upon us!"
From moment to moment came the dull roar of the cannon, signalling
better than the human voice could have done that the city was in danger,
and its inhabitants had need to defend it.
"Come to the ramparts, Charles!" said Eugene, darting out into the
street; "and if we can't fight ourselves, we can at least watch the
battle."
Charles caught his enthusiasm and followed his companion, who, more
familiar than himself with the topography of the city, led him by the
shortest way to the Haguenau gate. As they passed a gunsmith's shop,
Eugene paused.
"Wait," said he, "I have an idea." He entered the shop, and asked the
master, "Have you a good rifle?"
"Yes," replied the latter, "but it is dear."
"How much?"
"Two hundred livres."
The youth drew a handful of paper money from his pocket and threw it on
the counter.
"Have you ball and powder?"
"Yes."
"Give me some."
The gunsmith chose twenty balls that fitted the rifle, and weighed out a
pound of powder which he put in a powder-flask, while Eugene counted out
the two hundred livres in assignats, and six more for the powder and
ball.
"Do you know how to use a gun," Eugene asked Charles.
"Alas! no," replied the boy, ashamed of his ignorance.
"Never mind," said Eugene, laughing, "I will fight for us both." And he
hastened on toward the threatened spot, loading his rifle as he went.
For the rest, it was curious to see how every one, no matter what his
opinion, seemed fairly to spring upon the foe. From each gate came armed
men; the magic cry, "The enemy! the enemy!" seemed to evoke defenders on
the spot.
Near the gate the crowd was so dense that Eugene saw he could never gain
the rampart except by making a detour. He hastened to the right and soon
found himself on that part of the rampart which was opposite
Schiltigheim.
A great number of patriots were gathered here discharging their guns.
Eugene had much difficulty in making his way to the front, but at last
he succeeded, and Charles followed him.
The road and the plain presented the appearance of a battlefield in the
greatest confusion. French and Austrians were fighting pell-mell with
indescribable fury. The enemy, in pursuit of a French corps which had
been seized with one of those unaccountable panics which the ancients
attributed to the fury of the gods, had almost succeeded in forcing an
entrance into the city with the fleeing Frenchmen. The gates, shut just
in time, had left part of the latter outside, and it was they who had
turned with fury against their assailants, while the cannon thundered
and the rifles cracked from the summit of the ramparts.
"Ah!" cried Eugene, waving his rifle, joyously, "I knew a battle would
be a fine sight!"
Just as he said this a ball passed between Charles and himself, cutting
off one of his curls and making a hole in his hat; then it stretched in
death a patriot who had stood just behind them. The wind of its passage
blew upon the face of each.
"Oh! I know who it was. I saw him! I saw him!" cried Charles.
"Who, who?" asked Eugene.
"There, that one there, the one who is tearing his cartridge in order to
reload his gun."
"Wait! wait! Are you perfectly sure?"
"I should think so!"
"Well, then, look!"
The youth fired. The dragoon's horse leaped forward; he had no doubt
involuntarily put spurs to it.
"Hit! hit!" cried Eugene.
And, indeed, the dragoon tried to sling his musket into place, but in
vain; the weapon soon slipped from his grasp. He put one hand to his
side, and trying to guide his horse with the other endeavored to escape
from the combat; but after a few steps he swayed backward and forward
and then fell headlong to the ground. One of his feet caught in the
stirrup, and the frightened horse set off at a gallop, dragging him
along. The two boys followed him with their eyes for a moment, but both
horse and rider soon disappeared in the smoke.
Just then the gates opened and the garrison marched forth with drums
beating and bayonets levelled. It was the final effort of the patriots
and the enemy had not expected it. The trumpets sounded the retreat, and
the cavalry, scattered over the plain, formed together at the road, and
galloped off toward Kilstett and Gambelheim. The cannon were fired
awhile longer at the fugitives, but the rapidity of their retreat soon
put them out of range.
The two boys returned to the city exultant, Charles at having seen a
battle, Eugene at having taken part in one. Charles made Eugene promise
that he would teach him to use the rifle which he handled so skilfully.
And then, for the first time, did they learn the cause of this alarm.
General Eisemberg, an old German campaigner of the school of Luckner,
who had waged a war of partisans with a certain success, had been
charged by Pichegru with the defence of the advance-post of Bischwiller.
Either through carelessness, or a desire to oppose Saint-Just, instead
of taking the precautions directed by the representatives of the people,
he had allowed his troops and himself to be surprised, and he and his
staff had barely saved themselves by flight. At the foot of the walls,
finding himself supported, he had turned, but too late; the alarm had
been given in the city, and every one knew that the unfortunate officer
might just as well die or let himself be taken prisoner, as to seek
safety in a city where Saint-Just commanded. And in fact he had scarcely
entered the gates before he, and all his staff, were arrested by order
of the Representative of the People.
When they returned to the Hôtel de la Lanterne, the two young friends
found poor Madame Teutch in a state of the greatest anxiety. Eugene was
beginning to be known in the town where he had spent a month, and some
one had told her that the young fellow had been seen near the Haguenau
gate with a rifle in his hand. At first she had not believed it, but
when she saw him return with the rifle, she was seized with a
retrospective terror that doubled the interest of Charles' story. The
boy was as enthusiastic as a conscript who has just seen his first
battle.
But all this enthusiasm did not make Charles forget that he was to dine
with citizen Euloge Schneider at two o'clock. At five minutes of two,
having ascended the steps more slowly than he had descended them in the
morning, he knocked at the little door to which they led.