Produced by Al Haines










[Frontispiece: HE ROBBED YOU, THAT'S ALL.]




HISTORICAL ROMANCES OF FRANCE


THE PLÉBISCITE

OR

A MILLER'S STORY OF THE WAR


BY ONE OF THE 7,500,000 WHO VOTED "YES"




TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF

ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN




ILLUSTRATED




CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

NEW YORK::::::::::::::::::::::1911




COPYRIGHT, 1889, 1898

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS




ILLUSTRATIONS


"_He robbed you, that's all_" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

"_The grapeshot has mown them down. There are none left_"

_They drew two poor old men from their cellar_

_There he was, leaning forward to listen_

"_Good-by, my father!  Good-by, my mother!_"




INTRODUCTORY NOTE

The present volume serves to emphasize the important connection, so
generally now lost sight of, between the _plébiscite_ of 1870 in France
and the war with Prussia which so speedily followed.  Under the
administration of Ollivier, which promised an attractive extension of
popular liberties, it will be remembered, the _plebiscitum_ of the
Roman Constitution was borrowed, to give an air of popular approval to
the strongly attacked Imperial régime by taking the sense of the people
through universal suffrage as to the continuance of the Imperial
authority on its then existing basis.  Of the web of chicane and
corruption by which the election was brought out an overwhelming
triumph for Imperialism, MM. Erckmann-Chatrian give a clearer and more
impressive notion in this book than could be obtained from entire
volumes of parliamentary reports and whole files of newspapers.  But
they make it especially clear how the people were persuaded to return a
majority of "yeses" so enormous as to make it impossible to account for
it on the theory of mere corruption and chicane.  It is evident from
this narrative that the people were made to believe that the Empire
meant peace abroad and freedom from foreign complications then
threatening, as well as tranquillity at home, and that therefore one of
the profoundest instincts of twenty millions of peasantry was utilized
in order to be subsequently betrayed.

No authors could have been so happily chosen to write the story of the
struggle which followed.  Alsace and Lorraine, at once the scene of the
earliest campaign of the war and the victims of its result, furnish the
most appropriate background of such a picture.  In reading these
adventures, sufferings, meditations, and discussions of the simple yet
shrewd Alsatian miller and his neighbors, the reader will take in
almost at a glance the causes, incidents, and consequences of one of
the greatest of modern wars.  The corruption of the office-holding
classes, the ignorance of the army officers whose ranks had been filled
by favoritism, the bravery of the private soldier ill-equipped,
ill-fed, and disastrously led, the contrasting system and discipline of
the Prussians, the awakening by Gambetta of the national enthusiasm,
and the determined and dogged fighting under Chanzy, Faidherbe, and
Bourbaki, how the peasants fared at the hands of the enemy, and how the
enemy conducted themselves during the brief campaign are all unfolded
before the reader with a combined fulness and incisiveness difficult to
encounter elsewhere in narratives of this momentous conflict.




THE PLÉBISCITE

OR

A MILLER'S STORY OF THE WAR



CHAPTER I

I am writing this history for sensible people.  It is my own story
during the calamitous war we have just gone through.  I write it to
show those who shall come after us how many evil-minded people there
are in the world, and how little we ought to trust fair words; for we
have been deceived in this village of ours after a most abominable
fashion; we have been deceived by all sorts of people--by the
sous-préfets, by the préfets, and by the Ministers; by the curés, by
the official gazettes; in a word, by each and all.

Could any one have imagined that there are so many deceivers in this
world?  No, indeed; it requires to be seen with one's own eyes to be
believed.

In the end we have had to pay dearly.  We have given up our hay, our
straw, our corn, our flour, our cattle; and that was not enough.
Finally, they gave up _us_, our own selves.  They said to us: "You are
no longer Frenchmen; you are Prussians!  We have taken your young men
to fight in the war; they are dead, they are prisoners: now settle with
Bismarck any way you like; your business is none of ours!"

But these things must be told plainly: so I will begin at the
beginning, without getting angry.

You must know, in the first place, that I am a miller in the village of
Rothalp, in the valley of Metting, at Dosenheim, between Lorraine and
Alsace.  It is a large and fine village of 130 houses, possessing its
curé Daniel, its school-master Adam Fix, and principal inhabitants of
every kind--wheelwrights, blacksmiths, shoemakers, tailors, publicans,
brewers, dealers in eggs, butter, and poultry; we even have two Jews,
Solomon Kaan, a pedler, and David Hertz, cattle-dealer.

This will show you what was our state of prosperity before this war;
for the wealthier a village is, the more strangers it draws: every man
finds a livelihood there, and works at his trade.

We had not even occasion to fetch our butcher's-meat from town.  David
killed a cow now and then, and retailed all we wanted for Sundays and
holidays.

I, Christian Weber, have never been farther than thirty leagues from
this commune.  I inherited my mill from my grandfather, Marcel
Desjardins, a Frenchman from the neighborhood of Metz, who had built it
in the time of the Swedish war, when our village was but a miserable
hamlet.  Twenty-six years ago I married Catherine Amos, daughter of the
old forest-ranger.  She brought me a hundred louis for her dowry.  We
have two children--a daughter, Grédel, and a son, Jacob, who are still
with us at home.

I have besides a cousin, George Weber, who went off more than thirty
years ago to serve in the Marines in Guadeloupe.  He has even been on
active service there.  It was he who beat the drum on the forecastle of
the ship _Boussole_, as he has told me a hundred times, whilst the
fleet was bombarding St. John d'Ulloa.  Afterward he was promoted to be
sergeant; then he sailed to North America, for the cod fisheries; and
again into the Baltic, on board a small Danish vessel engaged in the
coal-trade.  George was always intent upon making a fortune.  About
1850 he returned to Paris, and established a manufactory of matches in
the Rue Mouffetard in Paris; and as he is really a very handsome tall
man, with a dark complexion, bold looking, and with a quick eye, he at
last married a rich widow without children, Madame Marie Anne Finck,
who was keeping an inn in that neighborhood.  They grew rich.  They
bought land in our part of the country through the agency of Monsieur
Fingado, the solicitor, to whom he sent regularly the price of every
piece of land.  At last, on the death of the old carpenter, Joseph
Briou, he became the purchaser of his house, to live there with his
wife, and to keep a public-house on the road to Metting.

This took place last year, during the time of the Plébiscite, and
Cousin George came to inspect his house before taking his wife, Marie
Anne, to it.

I was mayor; I had received orders from M. le Sous-préfet to give
public notice of the Plébiscite, and to request all well-disposed
persons to vote "_Yes,_" _if they desired to preserve peace_; because
all the ruffians in the country were going to vote _No_, to have war.

This is exactly what I did, by making everybody promise to come without
fail, and sending the _bangard_* Martin Kapp to carry the voting
tickets to the very farthest cottages up the mountains.


* An old word, probably from _ban garde_; now _garde champêtre_, a kind
of rural policeman.


Cousin George arrived the evening before the Plébiscite.  I received
him very kindly, as one ought to receive a rich relation who has no
children.  He seemed quite pleased to see us, and dined with us in the
best of tempers.  He carried with him in a small leathern trunk
clothes, shoes, shirts--everything that he required.  He was short of
nothing.  That day everything went on well; but the next day, hearing
the notices cried by the rural policeman, he went off to Reibell's
brewery, which was full of people, and began to preach against the
Plébiscite.

I was just then at the mayoralty house wearing my official scarf
receiving the tickets, when suddenly my deputy Placiard came to tell
me, in high indignation, that certain miserable wretches were attacking
the rider; that one of them was at the "Cruchon d'Or," and that half
the village were very nearly murdering him.

Immediately I went down and ran to the public-house, where my cousin
was calling them all asses, affirming that the Plébiscite was for war;
that the Emperor, the Ministers, the prefects, the generals, and the
bishops were deceiving the people; that all those men were acting a
part to get our money from us, and much besides to the same purpose.

I, from the passage, could hear him shouting these things in a terrible
voice, and I said to myself, "The poor fellow has been drinking."

If George had not been my cousin; if he had not been quite capable some
day of disinheriting my children, I should certainly have arrested him
at once, and had him conveyed under safe keeping to Sarrebourg; but, on
giving due weight to these considerations, I resolved to put an end to
this awkward business, and I cried to the people who were crowding the
passage, "Make room, you fellows, make room!"

Those enraged creatures, seeing the scarf, gave way in all directions;
and then discovering my cousin, seated at a table in the right-hand
corner, I said: "Cousin! what are you thinking of, to create such a
scandal?"

He, too, was abashed at the sight of the scarf, having served in the
navy, and knowing that there is no man who claims more respect than a
mayor; that he has a right to lay hands upon you, and send you to the
lock-up, and, if you resist, to send you as far as Sarrebourg and
Nancy.  Reflecting upon this, he calmed down in a moment, for he had
not been drinking at all, as I supposed at first, and he was saying
these things without bitterness, without anger, conscientiously, and
out of regard for his fellow-citizens.

Therefore, he replied to me, quietly: "Mr. Mayor, look after your
elections!  See that certain rogues up there--as there are rogues
everywhere--don't stuff into the ballot-box handfuls of _Yeses_ instead
of _Noes_ while your back is turned.  This has often happened!  And
then pray don't trouble yourself about me.  In the Government Gazette,
it is declared that every man shall be free to maintain his own
opinions, and to vote as he pleases; if my mouth is stopped, I shall
protest in the newspapers."

Hearing that he would protest, to avoid a worse scandal I answered him:
"Say what you please; no one shall declare that we have put any
constraint upon the elections; but, you men, you know what you have to
do."

"Yes, yes," shouted all the people in the room and down the passage,
lifting their hats.  "Yes, Monsieur le Maire; we will listen to nothing
at all.  Whether they talk all day or say nothing, it is all the same
to us."

And they all went off to vote, leaving George alone.

M. le Curé Daniel, seeing them coming out, came from his parsonage to
place himself at their head.  He had preached in the morning in favor
of the Plébiscite, and there was not a single _No_ in the box.

If my cousin had not had the large meadow above the mill, and the
finest acres in the country, he would have been an object of contempt
for the rest of his days; but a rich man, who has just bought a house,
an orchard, a garden, and has paid ready money for everything, may say
whatever he pleases: especially when he is not listened to, and the
people go and do the very opposite of what he has been advising them.

Well, this is the way with the elections for the Plébiscite with us,
and just the same thing went on throughout our canton: at
Phalsbourg--which had been abundantly placarded against the Plébiscite,
and where they carried their audacity even to watching the mayor and
the ballot-box--out of fifteen hundred electors, military and civil,
there were only thirty-two _Noes_.

It is quite clear that things were making favorable progress, and that
M. le Sous-préfet could not be otherwise than perfectly satisfied with
our behavior.

I must also mention that we were in want of a parish road to
Hangeviller; that we had been promised a pair of church-bells, and the
_Glandée_, or right of feeding our hogs upon the acorns in autumn; and
that we were aware that all the villages which voted the wrong way got
nothing, whilst the others--in consideration of the good councillors
they had sent up, either to the arrondissement or the department--might
always reckon upon a little money from the tax-collector for the
necessities of their parish.  Monsieur le Sous-préfet had pointed out
these advantages to me; and naturally a good mayor will inform his
subordinates.  I did so.  Our deputies, our councillors-general, our
councillors of the arrondissement, were all on the right side!  By
these means we have already gained the right to the dead leaves and our
great wash-houses.  We only sought our own good, and we much preferred
seeing other villages pay the ministers, the senators, the marshals,
the bishops, and the princes, to paying them ourselves.  So that all
that Cousin George could say to us about the interest of all, and the
welfare of the nation, made not the least impression upon us.

I remember that that very day of the Plébiscite, when it was already
known that we had all voted right, and that we should get our two bells
with the parish road--I remember that my cousin and I had, after
supper, a great quarrel, and that I should certainly have put him out,
if it had not been he.

We were taking our _petit verre_ of _kirsch_, smoking our pipes, with
our elbows on the table; my wife and Grédel had already gone to bed,
when all at once he said to me: "Listen to me, Christian.  Save the
respect I owe you as mayor, you are all a set of geese in this village,
and it is a very fortunate thing that I am come here, that you may
have, at least, one sensible man among you."

I was going to get angry, but he said:

"Just let me finish; if you had but spent a couple of years at Paris,
you would see things a little plainer; but at this moment, you are like
a nest of hungry jays, blind and unfeathered; they open their bills,
and they cry 'Jaques,' to call down food from heaven.  Those who hear
them climb up the tree, twist their necks, put them into the pot and
laugh.  That is your position.  You have confidence in your enemies,
and you give them power to pluck you just as they please.  If you
appointed upright men in your districts as deputies,
councillors-general, instead of taking whoever the préfecture
recommends, would not the Emperor and the other honorable men above be
obliged then to leave you the money which the tax-collector makes you
pay in excess?  Could all those people then enrich themselves at your
expense, and amass immense fortunes in a few years?  Would you then see
old baskets with their bottoms out, fellows whom you would not have
trusted with a halfpenny before the _coup-d'état_--would you see them
become millionnaires, rolling in gold, gliding along in carriages with
their wives, their children, their servants, and their ballet-dancers?
The préfets, the sous-préfets say to you: 'Go on voting right, and you
shall have this, you shall have that'--things which you have a right to
demand in virtue of the taxes you pay, but which are granted to you as
favors--roads, wash-houses, schools, etc.  Would you not be having them
in your own right, if the money which is taken from you were left in
the commune?  What does the Emperor do for you?  He plunders you--that
is all.  Your money, he shows it to you before each election, as they
show a child a stick of sugar-candy to make it laugh; and when the
election is over he puts it back into his pocket.  The trick is played."

"How can he put that money into his pocket?" I asked, full of
indignation.  "Are not the accounts presented every year in the
Chambers?"

Upon this he shrugged his shoulders and answered: "You are not sharp,
Christian; it is not so difficult to present accounts to the Chambers.
So many chassepots--which have no existence!  So much munition of war,
of which no one knows anything.  So much for retiring pensions; so much
for the substitutes' fund; so much for changes of uniform.  The
uniforms are changed every year; that is good for business.  Do the
deputies inquire into these matters?  Who checks the Ministers'
budgets?  And the deputies whom the Minister of the Interior has
recommended to you, whom you have appointed like fools, and whom the
Emperor would throw up at the very first election, if those gentlemen
breathed a syllable about visiting the arsenals and examining into the
accounts--what a farce it is!  Why, yesterday, passing through
Phalsbourg, I got upon the ramparts, and I saw there guns of the time
of Herod, upon gun-carriages eaten up by worms and painted over to
conceal the rottenness.  These very guns, I do believe, are recast
every third or fourth year--upon paper--with your money.  Ah, my poor
Christian, you are not very sharp, nor the other people in our village
either.  But the men you send as deputies to Paris--they _are_ sharp,
too sharp."

He broke out into a laugh, and I could have sent him back to Paris.

"Do you know what you want?" said he then, filling his pipe and
lighting it, for I made no reply, being too much annoyed; "what you
want is not good sense, it is not honesty.  All of us peasants, we
still possess some good sense and honesty.  And we believe, moreover,
in the honesty of others, which proves that we ourselves have a little
left!  No, what you want is education; you have asked for bells, and
bells you will get; but all the school you have is a miserable shed,
and your only school-master is old Adam Fix, who can teach his children
nothing because he knows nothing himself.  Well now, if you were to ask
for a really good school, there would be no money in the public funds.
There is money enough for bells, but for a good school-master, for a
large, well-ventilated room, for deal benches and tables, for pictures,
slates, maps, and books, there is nothing; for if you had good schools,
your children could read, write, keep accounts; they would soon be able
to look into the Ministers' budgets, and that is exactly what his
Majesty wishes to avoid.  You understand now, cousin; this is the
reason why you have no school and you have bells."

Then he looked knowingly at me:

"And, do you know," said he, after a few moments' thought, "do you know
how much all the schools in France cost?  I am not referring to the
great schools of medicine, and law, and chemistry, the colleges, and
the lyceums, which are schools for wealthy young men, able to keep
themselves in large cities, and to pay for their own maintenance.  I am
speaking of schools for the people, elementary schools, where reading
and writing are taught: the two first things which a man must know, and
which distinguish him from the savages who roam naked in the American
forests?  Well, the deputies whom the people themselves send to protect
their interests in Paris, and whose first thought, if they are not
altogether thieves, ought to be to discharge their duty toward their
constituencies--these deputies have never voted for the schools of the
people a larger sum than seventy-five millions.  The state contributes
ten millions as its share; the commune, the departments, the fathers
and mothers do the rest.  Seventy-five millions to educate the people
in a great country like ours! it is a disgrace.  The United States
spends six times the amount.  But on the other hand, for the war budget
we pay five hundred millions; even that would not be too much if we had
five hundred thousand men under arms, according to the calculation
which has been made of what it costs per diem for each man; but for an
army of two hundred and fifty thousand men, it is too much by half.
What becomes of the other three hundred millions?  If they were made
available to build schools, to pay able masters, to furnish retreats
for workmen in their declining days, I should have nothing to say
against it; but to jingle in the pockets of MM. the senators and to
ring the bells of MM. the curés, I consider that too dear."

As Cousin George bothered my mind with all his arguments, I felt a wish
to go to bed, and I said to him:

"All that, cousin, is very fine, but it is getting late: and besides it
has nothing to do with the Plébiscite."

I had risen; but he laid his hand upon my arm and said: "Let us talk a
little longer--let me finish my pipe.  You say that this has nothing to
do with the Plébiscite; but that Plébiscite is for all this nice
arrangement of things to go on.  If the nation believes that all is
right, that enough money is left to it, and that it can even spare a
little more; that the ministers, the senators, and the princes are not
yet sufficiently fat and flourishing; that the Emperor has not bought
enough in foreign countries; well, it will say with this Plébiscite,
'Go on, pray go on--we are quite satisfied.'  Does that suit your
ideas?"

"Yes.  I had rather that than war," said I, in a very bad temper.  "The
Empire is peace; I vote for peace."

Then George himself rose up, emptying his pipe on the edge of the
table, and said: "Christian, you are right.  Let us go to bed.  I
repent having bought old Briou's house; decidedly the people in these
parts are too stupid.  You quite grieve me."

"Oh, I don't want to grieve you," said I, angrily; "I have quite as
much sense as you."

"What!" said he, "you the mayor of Rothalp, in daily communication with
the sous-préfet, you believe that the object of this Plébiscite is to
confirm peace?"

"Yes, I do."

"What, you believe that?  Come now.  Have we not peace at the present
moment?  Do we want a Plébiscite to preserve it?  Do you suppose that
the Germans are taken in by it?  Our peasants, to be sure, are misled;
they are indoctrinated at the curé's house, at the mayoralty-house, at
the sous-préfecture; but not a single workman in Paris is a dupe of
this pernicious scheming.  They all know that the Emperor and the
Ministers want war; that the generals and the superior officers demand
it.  Peace is a good thing for tradesmen, for artisans, for peasants;
but the officers are tired of being cramped up in the same rank
perpetually without a rise.  Already the inferior officers have been
disgusted with the profession through the crowds of nobles, Jesuits,
and canting hypocrites of all sorts who are thrust into the army.  The
troops are not animated with a good spirit; they want promotion, or
they will end by rousing themselves into a passion: especially when
they see the Prussians under our noses helping themselves to everything
they please without asking our leave.  You don't understand that!
There," said he, "I am sleepy.  Let us go to bed."

Then I began to understand that my cousin had learned many things in
Paris, and that he knew more of politics than I did.  But that did not
prevent me from being in a great rage with him, for the whole of that
day he had done nothing but cause trouble; and I said to myself that it
was impossible to live with such a brute.

My wife, at the top of the landing, had heard us disputing; but as we
were going upstairs, she came all smiles to meet us, holding the
candle, and saying: "Oh, you have had a great deal to tell each other
this evening!  You must have had enough.  Come, cousin, let me take you
to your room; there it is.  From your window you may see the woods in
the moonlight; and here is your bed, the best in the house.  You will
find your cotton nightcap under the pillow."

"Very nice, Catherine, thank you," said George.

"And I hope you will sleep comfortably," said she, returning to me.

This wise woman, full of excellent good sense, then said to me, while I
was undressing: "Christian! what were you thinking of, to contradict
your cousin?  Such a rich man, and who can do us so much good by and
by!  What does the Plébiscite signify?  What can that bring us in?
Whatever your cousin says to you, say 'Amen' after it.  Remember that
his wife has relations, and she will want to get everything on her
side.  Mind you don't quarrel with George.  A fine meadow below the
mill, and an orchard on the hill-side, are not found every day in the
way of a cow."

I saw at once that she was right, and I inwardly resolved never to
contradict George again: he might himself alone be worth to us far more
than the Emperor, the Ministers, the senators, and all the
establishment together; for everyone of those people thought of his own
interests alone, without ever casting a thought upon us.  Of course we
ought to do the same as they did, since they had succeeded so well in
sewing gold lace upon all their seams, fattening and living in
abundance in this world; not to mention the promises that the bishops
made to them for the next.

Thinking upon these things, I lay calmly down, and soon fell asleep.




CHAPTER II

The next day early, Cousin George, my son Jacob, and myself, after
having eaten a crust of bread and taken a glass of wine standing,
harnessed our horses, and put them into our two carts to go and fetch
my cousin's wife and furniture at the Lützelbourg station.

Before coming into our country, George had ordered his house to be
whitewashed and painted from top to bottom; he had laid new floors, and
replaced the old shingle roof with tiles.  Now the paint was dry, the
doors and windows stood open day and night; the house could not be
robbed, for there was nothing in it.  My cousin, seeing that all was
right, had just written to his wife that she might bring their goods
and chattels with her.

So we started about six in the morning; upon the road the people of
Hangeviller, of Metting, and Véchem, and those who were going to market
in the town, were singing and shouting "Vive l'Empereur!"

Everywhere they had voted "Yes," for peace.  It was the greatest fraud
that had ever been perpetrated: by the way in which the Ministers, the
prefects, and the Government newspapers had explained the Plébiscite,
everybody had imagined that he had really voted peace.

Cousin George hearing this, said, "Oh, you poor country folks, how I
pity you for being such imbeciles!  How I pity you for believing what
these pickpockets tell you!"

That was how he styled the Emperor's government, and naturally I felt
my indignation rise; but Catherine's sound advice came back into my
mind, and I thought, "Hold your tongue, Christian; don't say a
word--that's your best plan."

All along the road we saw the same spectacle; the soldiers of the 84th,
garrisoned at Phalsbourg, looked as pleased as men who have won the
first prize in a lottery; the colonel declared that the men who did not
vote "Yes" would be unworthy of being called Frenchmen.  Every man had
voted "Yes;" for a good soldier knows nothing but his orders.

So having passed before the gate of France, we came down to the
Baraques, and then reached Lützelbourg.  The train from Paris had
passed a few minutes before; the whistle could yet be heard under the
Saverne tunnel.

My cousin's wife, with whom I was not yet acquainted, was standing by
her luggage on the platform; and seeing George coming up, she joyfully
cried, "Ah! is that you? and here is cousin."

She kissed us both heartily, gazing at us, however, with some surprise,
perhaps on account of our blouses and our great wide-brimmed black
hats.  But no! it could not be that; for Marie Anne Finck was a native
of Wasselonne, in Alsace, and the Alsacians have always worn the blouse
and wide-brimmed hat as long as I can remember.  But this tall, thin
woman, with her large brown eyes, as bustling, quick, and active as
gunpowder, after having passed thirty years at Paris, having first been
cook at Krantheimer's, at a place called the Barrière de Montmartre,
and then in five or six other inns in that great city, might well be
somewhat astonished at seeing such simple people as we were; and no
doubt it also gave her pleasure.

That is my idea.

"The carts are there, wife," cried George, in high spirits.  "We will
load the biggest with as much furniture as we can, and put the rest
upon the smaller one.  You will sit in front.  There--look up
there--that's the Castle of Lützelbourg, and that pretty little wooden
house close by, covered all over with vine, that is a châlet, Father
Hoffman-Forty's châlet, the distiller of cordials, you know the cordial
of Phalsbourg."

He showed her everything.

Then we began to load; that big Yéri, who takes the tickets at the gate
and who carries the parcels to Monsieur André's omnibus, comes to lend
us a hand.  The two carts being loaded about twelve o'clock, and my
cousin's wife seated in front of the foremost one upon a truss of
straw, we started at a quiet pace for the village, where we arrived
about three o'clock.  But I remember one thing, which I will not omit
to mention.  As we were coming out of Lützelbourg, a heavy wagon-load
of coal was coming down the hill, a lad of sixteen or seventeen leading
the horse by the bridle; at the door of the last house, a little child
of five years old, sitting on the ground, was looking at our carts
passing by; he was out of the road, he could not be in any one's way,
and was sitting there perfectly quiet, when the boy, without any
reason, gave him a lash with his whip, which made the child cry aloud.

My cousin's wife saw that.

"Why did that boy strike the child?" she inquired.

"That's a coal-heaver," George answered.  "He comes from Sarrebrück.
He is a Prussian.  He struck the child because he is a French child."

Then my cousin's wife wanted to get down to fall upon the Prussian; she
cried to him, "You great coward, you lazy dog, you wicked wretch, come
and hit me."  And the boy would have come to settle her, if we had not
been there to receive him; but he would not trust himself to us, and
lashed his horses to get out of our reach, making all haste to pass the
bridge, and turning his head round toward us, for fear of being
followed.

I thought at the time that Cousin George was wrong in saying this boy
had a spite against the French because he was a Prussian; but I learned
afterward that he was right, and that the Germans have borne ill-will
against us for years without letting us see it--like a set of sulky
fellows waiting for a good opportunity to make us feel it.

"It is our _good man_ that we have to thank for this," said George.
"The Germans fancy that we have named him Emperor to begin his uncle's
tricks again; and now they look upon our Plébiscite as a declaration of
war.  The joy of our sous-préfets, our mayors, and our curés, and of
all those excellent people who only prosper upon the miseries of
mankind, proves that they are not very far out."

"Yes, indeed," cried his wife; "but to beat a child, that is cowardly."

"Bah! don't let us think about it," said George.  "We shall see much
worse things than this; and we shall have deserved it, through our own
folly.  God grant that I may be mistaken!"

Talking so, we arrived home.

My wife had prepared dinner; there was kissing all round, the
acquaintance was made; we all sat round the table, and dined with
excellent appetites.  Marie Anne was gay; she had already seen their
house on her way, and the garden behind it with its rows of gooseberry
bushes and the plum-trees full of blossom.  The two carts, the horses
having been taken out, were standing before their door; and from our
windows might be seen the village people examining the furniture with
great interest, hovering round and gazing with curiosity upon the great
heavy boxes, feeling the bedding, and talking together about this great
quantity of goods, just as if it was their own business.

They were remarking no doubt that our cousin George Weber and his wife
were rich people, who deserved the respectful consideration of the
whole country round; and I myself, before seeing these great chests,
should never have dreamed that they could have so much belonging
entirely to themselves.

This proved to me that my wife was perfectly right in continuing to pay
every respect to my cousin; she had also cautioned our daughter Grédel:
as for Jacob, he is a most sensible lad, who thinks of everything and
needs not to be told what to do.

But what astonished us a great deal more, was to see arriving about
half-past three two other large wagons from the direction of Wéchem,
and hearing my cousin cry, "Here comes my wine from Barr!"

Before coming to Rothalp he had himself gone to Barr, in Alsace, to
taste the wine and to make his own bargains.

"Come, Christian," said he, rising, "we have no time to lose if we mean
to unload before nightfall.  Take your pincers and your mallet; you
will also fetch ropes and a ladder to let the casks down into the
cellar."

Jacob ran to fetch what was wanted, and we all came out together--my
wife, my daughter, cousin, and everybody.  My man Frantz remained alone
at the mill, and immediately they began to undo the boxes, to carry the
furniture into the house: chests of drawers, wardrobes, bedsteads, and
quantities of plates, dishes, soup-tureens, etc., which were carried
straight into the kitchen.

My cousin gave his orders: "Put this down in a corner; set that in
another corner."

The neighbors helped us too, out of curiosity.  Everything went on
admirably.

And then arrived the wagons from Barr; but they were obliged to be kept
waiting till seven o'clock.  Our wives had already set up the beds and
put away the linen in the wardrobes.

About seven o'clock everything was in order in the house.  We now
thought of resting till to-morrow, when George said to us, turning up
his sleeves, "Now, my friend, here comes the biggest part of the work.
I always strike the iron while it's hot.  Let all the men who are
willing help me to unload the casks, for the drivers want to get back
to town, and I believe they are right."

Immediately the cellar was opened, the ladder set up against the first
wagon, the lanterns lighted, the planks set leaning in their places,
and until eleven o'clock we did nothing but unload wine, roll down
casks, let them down with my ropes, and put them in their places.

Never had I worked as I did on that day!

Not before eleven o'clock did Cousin George, seeing everything settled
to his satisfaction, seem pleased; he tapped the first cask, filled a
jug with wine, and said, "Now, mates, come up; we will have a good
draught, and then we will get to bed."

The cellar was shut up, so we drank in the large parlor, and then all,
one after another, went home to bed, upon the stroke of midnight.

All the villagers were astonished to see how these Parisians worked:
they were all the talk.  At one time it was how cousin had bought up
all the manure at the gendarmerie; then how he had made a contract to
have all his land drained in the autumn; and then how he was going to
build a stable and a laundry at the back of his house, and a distillery
at the end of his yard: he was enlarging his cellars, already the
finest in the country.  What a quantity of money he must have!

If he had not paid his architect, the carpenters, and the masons cash
down, it would have been declared that he was ruining himself.  But he
never wanted a penny; and his solicitor always addressed him with a
smiling face, raising his hat from afar off, and calling him "my dear
Monsieur Weber."

One single thing vexed George: he had requested at the préfecture, as
soon as he arrived, a license to open his public-house at the sign of
"The Pineapple."  He had even written three letters to Sarrebourg, but
had received no answer.  Morning and evening, seeing me pass by with my
carts of grain and flour, he called to me through the window, "Hallo,
Christian, this way just a minute!"

He never talked of anything else; he even came to tease me at the
mayoralty-house, to indorse and seal his letters with attestations as
to his good life and character; and yet no answer came.

One evening, as I was busy signing the registration of the reports
drawn up in the week by the school-master, he came in and said,
"Nothing yet?"

"Cousin, I don't know the meaning of it."

"Very well," said he, sitting before my desk.  "Give me some paper.
Let me write for once, and then we will see."

He was pale with excitement, and began to write, reading it as he went
on:


"MONSIEUR LE SOUS-PRÉFET,--I have requested of you a license to open a
public-house at Rothalp.  I have even had the honor of writing you
three letters upon the subject, and you have given me no answer.
Answer me--yes or no!  When people are paid, and well paid, they ought
to fulfil their duty.

"Monsieur le Sous-préfet, I have the honor to salute you.

  "GEORGE WEBER,
"_Late Sergeant of Marines._"


Hearing this letter, my hair positively stood on end.

"Cousin, don't send that," said I; "the sous-préfet would very likely
put you under arrest."

"Pooh!" said he, "you country people, you seem to look upon these folks
as if they were demi-gods; yet they live upon our money.  It is we who
pay them: they are for our service, and nothing more.  Here, Christian,
will you put your seal to that?"

Then, in spite of all that my wife might say, I replied, "George, for
the love of Heaven, don't ask me that.  I should most assuredly lose my
place."

"What place?  Your place as mayor," said he, "in which you receive the
commands of the sous-préfet, who receives the commands of the préfet,
who receives the orders of a Minister, who does everything that our
_honest man_ bids him.  I had rather be a ragman than fill such a
place."

The school-master, who happened to be there, seemed as if he had
suddenly dropped from the clouds; his arms hung down the sides of his
chair, and he gazed at my cousin with big eyes, just as a man stares at
a dangerous lunatic.

I, too, was sitting upon thorns on hearing such words as these in the
mayoralty-house; but at last I told him I had rather go myself to
Sarrebourg and ask for the permission than seal that letter.

"Then we will go together," said he.

But I felt sure that if he spoke after this fashion to Monsieur le
Sous-préfet, he would lay hands upon both of us; and I said that I
should go alone, because his presence would put a constraint upon me.

"Very well," he said; "but you will tell me everything that the
sous-préfet has been saying to you."

He tore up his letter, and we went out together.

I don't remember that I ever passed a worse night than that.  My wife
kept repeating to me that our Cousin George had the precedence over the
sous-préfet, who only laughed at us; that the Emperor, too, had
cousins, who wanted to inherit everything from him, and that everybody
ought to stick to their own belongings.

Next day, when I left for Sarrebourg, my head was in a whirl of
confusion, and I thought that my cousin and his wife would have done
well to have stayed in Paris rather than come and trouble us when we
were at peace, when every man paid his own rates and taxes, when
everybody voted as they liked at the préfecture.  I could say that
never was a loud word spoken at the public-house; that people attended
with regularity both mass and vespers; that the gendarmes never visited
our village more than once a week to preserve order; and that I myself
was treated with consideration and respect: when I spoke but a word,
honest men said, "That's the truth; that's the opinion of Monsieur le
Maire!"

Yes, all these things and many more passed through my mind, and I
should have liked to see Cousin George at Jericho.

This is just how we were in our village, and I don't know even yet by
what means other people had made such fools of us.  In the end, we have
had to pay dearly for it; and our children ought to learn wisdom by it.

At Sarrebourg, I had to wait two hours before I could see Monsieur le
Sous-préfet, who was breakfasting with messieurs the councillors of the
arrondissement, in honor of the Plébiscite.  Five or six mayors of the
neighborhood were waiting like myself; we saw filing down the passage
great dishes of fish and game, notwithstanding that the fishing and
shooting seasons were over; and then baskets of wine; and we could hear
our councillors laughing, "Ha! ha! ha!"  They were enjoying themselves
mightily.

At last Monsieur le Sous-préfet came out; he had had an excellent
breakfast.

"Ha! is that you, gentlemen?" said he; "come in, come into the office."

And for another quarter of an hour we were left standing in the office.
Then came Monsieur le Sous-préfet to get rid of the mayors, who wanted
different things for their villages.  He looked delighted, and granted
everything.  At last, having despatched the rest, he said to me, "Oh!
Monsieur le Maire, I know the object of your coming.  You are come to
ask, for the person called George Weber, authorization to open a
public-house at Rothalp.  Well, it's out of the question.  That George
Weber is a Republican; he has already offered opposition to the
Plébiscite.  You ought to have notified this to me: you have screened
him because he is your cousin.  Authorizations to keep public-houses
are granted to steady men, devoted to his Majesty the Emperor, and who
keep a watch over their customers; but they are never granted to men
who require watching themselves.  You should be aware of that."

Then I perceived that my rascally deputy, that miserable Placiard, had
denounced us.  That old dry-bones did nothing but draw up perpetual
petitions, begging for places, pensions, tobacco excise offices,
decorations for himself and his honorable family; speaking incessantly
of his services, his devotion to the dynasty, and his claims.  His
claims were the denunciations, the informations which he laid before
the sous-préfecture; and, to tell the truth, in those days these were
the most valid claims of all.

I was indignant, but I said nothing; I simply added a few words in
favor of Cousin George, assuring Monsieur le Sous-préfet that lies had
been told about him, that one should not believe everything, etc.  He
half concealed a weary yawn; and as the councillors of the
arrondissement were laughing in the garden, he rose and said politely,
"Monsieur le Maire, you have your answer.  Besides, you already have
two public-houses in your village; three would be too many."

It was useless to stay after that, so I made a bow, at which he seemed
pleased, and returned quietly to Rothalp.  The same evening I went to
repeat to George, word for word, the answer of the sous-préfet.
Instead of getting angry, as I expected, my cousin listened calmly.
His wife only cried out against that bad lot--she spoke of all the
sous-préfets in the most disrespectful manner.  But my cousin, smoking
his pipe after supper, took it all very easily.

"Just listen to me, Christian," said he.  "In the first place, I am
much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken.  All that you tell
me I knew beforehand; but I am not sorry to know it for certain.  Yet I
could wish that the sous-préfet had had my letter.  As it is, since I
am refused a license to sell a few glasses of wine retail, I will sell
wine wholesale.  I have already a stock of white wine, and no later
than to-morrow I am off to Nancy.  I buy a light cart and a good horse;
thence I drive to Thiancourt, where I lay in a stock of red wine.
After that I rove right and left all over the country, and I sell my
wine by the cask or the quarter-cask, according to the solvency of my
customers: instead of having one public-house, I will have twenty.  I
must keep moving.  With an inn, Marie Anne would still have been
obliged to cook; she has quite enough to do without that."

"Oh! yes," she said; "for thirty years I have been cooking dishes of
sauerkraut and sausage at Krantheimer's, at Montmartre, and at Auber's,
in the cloister St. Benoit."

"Exactly so," said George; "and now you shall cook no longer; but you
shall look after the crops, the stacking of the hay, the storage of
fruit and potatoes.  We shall get in our dividends, and I will trot
round the country with my little pony from village to village.
Monsieur le Sous-préfet shall know that George Weber can live without
him."

Hearing this, I learned that they had money in the funds, besides all
the rest; and I reflected that my cousin was quite right to laugh at
all the sous-préfets in the world.

He came with me to the door, shaking hands with me; and I said to
myself that it was abominable to have refused a publican's license to
respectable persons, when they gave it to such men as Nicolas Reiter
and Jean Kreps, whom their own wives called their best customers
because they dropped under the table every evening and had to be
carried to bed.

On the other hand, I saw that it was better for me; for if my cousin
had been found infringing the law, I should have had to take
depositions, and there would have been a quarrel with Cousin George.
So that all was for the best; the wholesale business being only the
exciseman's affair.

What George had said, he did next day.  At six o'clock he was already
at the station, and in five or six days he had returned from Nancy upon
his own char-à-banc, drawn by a strong horse, five or six years old, in
its prime.  The char-à-banc was a new one; a tilt could be put up in
wet weather, which could be raised or lowered when necessary to deliver
the wine or receive back the empty casks.

The wine from Thiancourt followed.  George stored it immediately, after
having paid the bill and settled with the carter.  I was standing by.

As for telling you how many casks he had then in the house, that would
be difficult without examining his books; but not a wine-merchant in
the neighborhood, not even in town, could boast of such a vault of wine
as he had, for excellence of quality, for variety in price, both red
and white, of Alsace and Lorraine.

About that time, my cousin sent for me and Jacob to make a list of safe
customers.  He wrote on, asking us, "How much may I give to So-and-So?"

"So much."

"How much to that man?"

"So much."

In the course of a single afternoon we had passed in review all the
innkeepers and publicans from Droulingen to Quatre Vents, from Quatre
Vents to the Dagsberg.  Jacob and I knew what they were worth to the
last penny; for the man who pays readily for his flour, pays well for
his wine; and those who want pulling up by the miller are in no hurry
to open their purses to the others.

That was the way Cousin George conducted his business.

He took a lad from our place, the son of the cooper Gros, to drive; and
he himself was salesman.

From that day he was only seen passing through Rothalp at a quick trot,
his lad loading and unloading.

My cousin, also, had a notion of distilling in the winter.  He bought
up a quantity of old second-hand barrels to hold the fruits which he
hoped to secure at a cheap rate in autumn, and laid up a great store of
firewood.  Our country people had nothing to do but to look at him to
learn something; but the people down our way all think themselves so
amazingly clever, and that does not help to make folks richer.

Well, it is plain to you that our cousin's prospects were looking very
bright.  Every day, returning from his journey to Saverne or to
Phalsbourg, he would stop his cart before my door, and come to see me
in the mill, crying out: "Hallo! good afternoon, Christian.  How are
you to-day?"

Then we used to step into the back parlor, on account of the noise and
the dust, and we talked about the price of corn, cattle, provender, and
everything that is interesting to people in our condition.

What astonished him most of all was the number of Germans to be met
with in the mountains and in the plains.

"I see nobody else," said he; "wood-cutters, brewers' men, coopers,
tinkers, photographers, contractors.  I will lay a wager, Christian,
that your young man Frantz is a German, too."

"Yes; he comes from the Grand Duchy of Baden."

"How does this happen?" asked George.  "What is the meaning of it all?"

"They are good workmen," said I, "and they ask only half the wages."

"And ours--what becomes of them?"

"Ah, you see, Cousin George, that is their business."

"I understand," he said, "that we are making a great mistake.  Even in
Paris, this crowd of Germans--crossing-sweepers, shop and warehousemen,
carters, book-keepers, professors of every kind--astonished me; and
since Sadowa, there are twice as many.  The more territory they annex,
the farther they extend their view.  Where is the advantage of our
being Frenchmen--paying every year heavier taxes; sending our children
to be drawn for the conscription, and paying for their exemption;
bearing all the expenses of the State, all the insults of the préfets,
the sous-préfets, and the police-inspectors, and the annoyances of
common spies and informers, if those fellows, who have nothing at all
to bear, enjoy the same advantages with ourselves, and even greater
ones; since our own people are sent off to make room for these, who by
their great numbers lower the price of hand-labor?  This benefits the
manufacturers, the contractors, the bourgeois class, but it is misery
for the mass of the people.  I cannot understand it at all.  Our
rulers, up there, must be losing their senses.  If that goes on, the
working-men will cease to care for their country, since it cares so
little for them; and the Germans who are favored, and who hate us, will
quietly put us out of our own doors."

Thus spoke my cousin, and I knew not what answer to make.

But about this time I had a great trouble, and although this affair is
my private business alone, I must tell you about it.

Since the arrival of George, my daughter Grédel, instead of looking
after our business as she used to do, washing clothes, milking cows,
and so on, was all the blessed day at Marie Anne's.  Jacob complained,
and said: "What is she about down there?  By and by I shall have to
prepare the clothes for the wash and hang them upon the hedges to dry,
and churn butter.  Cannot Grédel do her own work?  Does she think we
are her servants?"

He was right.  But Grédel never troubled herself.  She never has
thought of any one besides herself.  She was down there along with
George's wife, who talked to her from morning till night about Paris,
the grand squares, the markets, the price of eggs and of meat, what was
charged at the barrières; of this, that, and the other: cooking, and
what not.

Marie Anne wanted company.  But this did not suit me at all; and the
less because Grédel had had a lover in the village for some time, and
when this is the case, the best thing to be done is always to keep your
daughter at home and watch her closely.

It was only a common clerk at a stone-quarry in Wilsberg, a late
artillery sergeant, Jean Baptiste Werner, who had taken the liberty to
cast his eyes upon our daughter.  We had nothing to say against this
young man.  He was a fine, tall man, thin, with a bold expression and
brown mustaches, and who did his duty very well at the quarry by Father
Heitz; but he could earn no more than his three francs a day: and any
one may see that the daughter of Christian Weber was not to be thrown
away upon a man who earns three francs a day.  No, that would never do.

Nevertheless, I had often seen this Jean Baptiste Werner going in the
morning to his work with his foot-rule under his arm, stopping at the
mill-dam, as if to watch the geese and the ducks paddling about the
sluice or the hens circling around the cock on the dunghill; and at the
same moment Grédel would be slowly combing her hair at her window
before the little looking-glass, leaning her head outside.  I had also
noticed that they said good-morning to each other a good way off, and
that that clerk always looked excited and flurried at the sight of my
daughter; and I had even been obliged to give Grédel notice to go and
comb her hair somewhere else when that man passed, or to shut her
window.

This is my case, simply told.

That young man worried me.  My wife, too, was on her guard.

You may now understand why I should have preferred to have seen our
daughter at home; but it was not so easy to forbid her to go to my
cousin's.  George and his wife might have been angry; and that troubled
us.

Fortunately about that time the eldest son of Father Heitz,* the owner
of the quarry, asked for Grédel in marriage.


* It is usual there for fathers of families to be distinguished as
Father So-and-So.


For a long while, Monsieur Mathias Heitz, junior, had come every Sunday
from Wilsberg to the "Cruchon d'Or," to amuse himself with Jacob, as
young men do when they have intentions with regard to a family.  He was
a fine young man, fat, with red cheeks and ears, and always well
dressed, with a flowered velvet waistcoat, and seals to his
watch-chain; in a word, just such a young man as a girl with any good
sense would be glad to have for a husband.

He had property too; he was the eldest of five children.  I reckoned
that his own share might be fifteen to twenty thousand francs after the
death of his parents.

Well, this young man demanded Grédel in marriage, and at once Jacob, my
wife, and myself were agreed to accept him.

Only my wife thought that we ought to consult Cousin George and Marie
Anne.  Grédel was just there when I went in with Catherine; but behold!
on the first mention of the thing she began to melt into tears, and to
say she would rather die than marry Mathias Heitz.  You may imagine how
angry we were.  My wife was going to slap her face or box her ears; but
my cousin became angry now, and told us that we ought never to oblige a
girl to marry against her will, because this was the way to make
miserable households.  Then he led us out into the passage, telling us
that he took the responsibility of this affair: that he wished to
obtain information, and that we were to tell the young man that we
required a month for reflection.

We could not refuse him that.  Grédel would no longer come home; my
cousin's wife begged us not to plague her, and we had to give way to
them; but it was one of the greatest troubles of my life.  And I
thought: "Now you cannot give your daughter to whoever you like; is not
this really abominable?"

I felt angry with myself for having listened to my cousin: but,
nevertheless, Grédel stayed with them a whole week, in consequence of
which we were obliged to hire a charwoman; and Jacob exclaimed that
Grédel could not have offered him a worse insult than to refuse his
best comrade, a rich fellow, who boldly paid down his money for ten,
fifteen, and twenty bottles at the club without winking.

However, he never mentioned it to Cousin George, for whom he felt the
greatest respect on account of his expectations from him, and whose
strong language dismayed him.

At last my wife found that Grédel was staying too long away from home;
the people of the village would talk about it; so one evening I went to
see George, to ask him what he had learned about Heitz's son.

It was after supper.  Grédel, seeing me come in, slipped out into the
kitchen, and my cousin said to me frankly: "Listen, Christian: here is
the matter in two words--Grédel loves another."

"Whom?"

"Jean Baptiste Werner."

"Father Heitz's clerk? the son of the woodward Werner, who has never
had anything but potatoes to eat?  Is she in love with him?  Let the
wretch come--let him come and ask her!  I'll kick him down the stairs!
And Grédel to grieve me so?  Oh!  I should never have believed it of
her!"

I could have cried.

"Come, Christian," said my cousin, "you must be reasonable."

"Reasonable! she deserves to have her neck wrung!"

I was in a fury; I wanted to lay hold on her.  Happily, she had gone
into the garden, and George held me back.  He obliged me to sit down
again, and said: "What is Mathias Heitz? a fat fool who knows nothing
but how to play at cards and drink.  He was put to college at
Phalsbourg, at M. Verrot's, like all the other respectable young men in
the district; but he now drives about in a char-à-banc in a flowered
waistcoat, with jingling seals: he could not possibly earn a couple of
pence--and the old man would like to be rid of him by marrying him.  I
have obtained information about him.  He may come in for from fifteen
to twenty thousand francs some day; but what are fifteen thousand
francs for an ass?  He will eat them, he will drink them--perhaps he
has already swallowed half--and if there is a family, what are fifteen
or even twenty thousand francs between five or six children?  Formerly,
when girls used to have an outfit for a marriage portion, and the
eldest son succeeded his father, things went on pretty well.  It did
not want much talent to carry on a well-established business, or to
follow up a trade from father to son.  But at the present day,
mother-wit and good sense stand in the foremost rank.  Grandfather
Heitz was an industrious man; he made money; but Father Mathias has
never added a sou to his property, and the son has not a grain of good
sense."

"But the other fellow--why he has nothing at all."

"The other, Jean Baptiste Werner, is a good man, who has done his duty
by Father Heitz; he knows everything, manages everything, takes in
orders, makes all the arrangements for the carriage of stone by carts
or by railway.  Heitz puts the money into his pocket, and Werner has
all the work, for want of a little capital to set himself up in
business.  He has seen foreign service.  I have seen his certificates
of character in Africa, in Mexico: they are excellent.  If I were in
your place, I would give Grédel to him."

"Never!" cried I, thumping upon the table; "I had rather drown her."

Half the wine-glasses were shattered on the floor; but my cousin was
not angry.

"Well, Christian," said he, "you are wrong.  Think it over.  Grédel
will remain here.  I will answer for her.  You must not take her away
at present.  You would be very likely to ill-treat her, and then you
would repent of it."

"Let her stay as long as you like!" said I, taking up my hat; "let her
never darken my doors again."  And I rushed out.

Never in my life had I been so angry and so grieved.  At home I did not
even dare to say what I had learned; but Jacob suspected it, and one
day, as Werner was stopping in front of the mill, he shook his
pitchfork at him, shouting: "Come on!"  But Werner pretended not to
hear him, and went on his way.

I was at last, however, obliged to tell my wife the whole matter.  At
first she was near fainting; but she soon recovered, and said to me:
"Well, if Grédel won't have young Mathias, we shall keep our hundred
louis, and we shall have no need to hire a new servant.  I should
prefer that, for one cannot trust strange servants in a house."

"Yes; but how can we declare to Mathias Heitz that Grédel refuses his
son?"

"Oh, don't trouble yourself, Christian," said she; "leave me alone, and
don't let us quarrel with Cousin George: that's the principal thing.  I
will say that Grédel is too young to be married; that is the proper
thing to say, and nobody can answer that."

Catherine quieted me in this way.  But this business was still racking
my brain, when extraordinary things came to pass, which we were far
from expecting, and which were to turn our hair gray, and that of many
others with us.




CHAPTER III

One morning the secretary of the sous-préfet wrote to me to come to
Sarrebourg.  From time to time we used to receive orders, as
magistrates, to go and give an account at the sous-préfecture of what
was going on in our district.

I said to myself, immediately on receiving this letter from Secretary
Gérard, that it was something about our Agricultural Society, which had
not yet delivered the prizes gained by the ducks and the geese a few
weeks before.

It was true that the Paris newspapers had for three days past been
discussing a Prince of Hohenzollern, who had just been named King of
Spain; but what could that signify to us at Rothalp, Illingen,
Droulingen, and Henridorf, whether the King of Spain was called
Hohenzollern or by any other name?

In my opinion, it could not be about that affair that Monsieur le
Sous-préfet wanted to talk to us, but about the old or a new
Agricultural Society, or something at least which concerned us in
particular.  The idea of the parish road and the bells came also into
my mind; perhaps that was the object we were sent for.

At last I took up my staff and started for Sarrebourg.

Arriving there, I found the whole length of the principal street
crowded with mayors, police-inspectors, and _juges-de-paix_.* Mother
Adler's inn and all the little public-houses were so full that they
could not have held another customer.


* Magistrates.


Then I said to myself, no doubt something quite new is in the wind: as,
for instance; a fête like that when her Majesty the Empress and the
Prince Imperial, three years before, passed through Nancy to celebrate
the union of Lorraine with France.  Thereupon I went to the
sous-préfecture, where I found already several mayors of the
neighborhood talking at the door.  They were discussing the price of
corn, the high price of cattle food; they were called in one after
another.

In half an hour my turn came; Monsieur Christian Weber's name was
called, and I entered with my hat in my hand.

Monsieur le Sous-préfet with his secretary Gerard, with his pen stuck
behind his ear, were seated there: the secretary began to mend his pen;
and Monsieur le Sous-préfet asked me what was going on in my part of
the country?

"In our country, Monsieur le Sous-préfet? why, nothing at all.  There
is a great drought; no rain has fallen for six weeks; the potatoes are
very small, and..."

"I don't mean that, Monsieur le Maire: what do they think of the Prince
Hohenzollern and the Crown of Spain?"

On hearing this I scratched my head, saying to myself, "What will you
answer to that now?  What must you say?"

Then Monsieur le Sous-préfet asked: "What is the spirit of your
population?"

The spirit of our population?  How could I get out of that?

"You see, Monsieur le Sous-préfet, in our villages the people are no
scholars; they don't read the papers."

"But tell me, what do they think of the war?"

"What war?"

"If, now, we should have war with Germany, would those people be
satisfied?"

Then I began to catch a glimpse of his meaning, and I said: "You know,
Monsieur le Sous-préfet, that we have voted in the Plébiscite to have
peace, because everybody likes trade and business and quietness at
home; we only want to have work and..."

"Of course, of course, that is plain enough; we all want peace: his
Majesty the Emperor, and her Majesty the Empress, and everybody love
peace!  But if we are attacked: if Count Bismarck and the King of
Prussia attack us?"

"Then, Monsieur le Sous-préfet, we shall be obliged to defend ourselves
in the best way we can; by all sorts of means, with pitchforks, with
sticks..."

"Put that down, Monsieur Gérard, write down those words.  You are
right, Monsieur le Maire: I felt sure of you beforehand," said Monsieur
le Sous-préfet, shaking hands with me: "You are a worthy man."

Tears came into my eyes.  He came with me to the door, saying: "The
determination of your people is admirable; tell them so: tell them that
we wish for peace; that our only thought is for peace; that his Majesty
and their excellencies the Ministers want nothing but peace; but that
France cannot endure the insults of an ambitious power.  Communicate
your own ardor to the village of Rothalp.  Good, very good.  _Au
revoir_, Monsieur le Maire, farewell."

Then I went out, much astonished; another mayor took my place, and I
thought, "What! does that Bismarck mean to attack us!  Oh, the villain!"

But as yet I could tell neither why nor how.

I repaired to Mother Adler's, where I ordered bread and cheese and a
bottle of white wine, according to custom, before returning home; and
there I heard all those gentlemen, the Government officials, the
controllers, the tax-collectors, the judges, the receivers, etc.,
assembled in the public room, telling one another that the Prussians
were going to invade us; that they had already taken half of Germany,
and that they were wanting now to lay the Spaniards upon our back in
order to take the rest: just as they had put Italy upon the back of the
Austrians, before Sadowa.

All the mayors present were of the same opinion; they all answered that
they would defend themselves, if we were attacked; for the Lorrainers
and the Alsacians have never been behindhand in defending themselves:
all the world knows that.

I went on listening; at last, having paid my bill, I started to return
home.

I went out of Sarrebourg, and had walked for half an hour in the dust,
reflecting upon what had just taken place, when I heard a conveyance
coming at a rapid rate behind me.  I turned round.  It was Cousin
George upon his char-à-banc, at which I was much pleased.

"Is that you, cousin?" said he, pulling up.

"Yes; I am just come from Sarrebourg, and I am not sorry to meet with
you, for it is terribly warm."

"Well, up with you," said he.  "You have had a great gathering to-day;
I saw all the public-houses full."

I was up, I took my seat, and the conveyance went off again at a trot.

"Yes," said I; "it is a strange business; you would never guess why we
have been sent for to the sous-préfecture."

"What for?"

Then I told him all about it; being much excited against the villain
Bismarck, who wanted to invade us, and had just invented this
Hohenzollern pretext to drive us to extremities.

George listened.  At last he said: "My poor Christian! the sous-préfet
was quite right in calling you a worthy fellow; and all those other
mayors that I saw down there, with their red noses, are worthy men; but
do you know my opinion upon all those matters?"

"What do you think, George?"

"Well, my belief is, that they are leading you like a string of asses
by the bridle.  That sous-préfet will present his report to the préfet,
the préfet to the Minister of the Interior, Monsieur Chevandier de
Valdrôme,--the organizer of the Plébiscite--he who told you to vote
'Yes' to have peace--and that Minister will present his report to the
Emperor.  They all know that the Emperor desires war, because he needs
it for his dynasty."

"What! he wants war?"

"No doubt he does.  In spite of all, forty-five thousand soldiers have
voted against the Plébiscite.  The army is turning round against the
dynasty.  There is no more promotion: medals, crosses, promotions were
distributed in profusion at first, now all that has stopped; the
inferior officers have no more hope of passing into the higher ranks,
because the army is filled with nobles, with Jesuits from the schools
of the Sacred College: in the Court calendars nothing is seen but
_de_'s.  The soldiers, who spring from the people, begin to discern
that they are being gradually extinguished: they are not in a pleasant
temper.  But war may put everything straight again: a few battles are
wanted to throw light upon the malcontents; there must be a victory to
crush the Republicans, for the Republicans are gaining confidence: they
are lifting up their heads.  After a victory, a few thousand of them
can be sent to Lambessa and to Cayenne, just as after the Second of
December.  At the same time, the Jesuits will be placed at the head of
the schools, as they were under Charles X., the Pope will be restored,
Italy and Germany will be dismembered, and the dynasty will be placed
on a strong foundation for twenty years.  Every twenty years they will
begin again, and the dynasty will strike deep root.  But war there must
be."

"But what do you mean?  It is Bismarck who is beginning it," said I:
"it is he who is picking a German quarrel."

"Bismarck," replied my cousin, "is well acquainted with everything that
is going on, and so are the very lowest workmen in Paris; but you, you
know nothing at all.  Your only talk is about potatoes and cabbages:
your thoughts never go beyond this.  You are kept in ignorance.  You
are, as it were, the dung of the Empire--the manure to fatten the
dynasty.  Bismarck is aware that our _honest man_ wants war, to temper
his army afresh, and shut the mouths of those whose talk is of economy,
liberty, honor, and justice; he knows that never will Prussia be so
strong again as she is now--she already covers three-fourths of
Germany; all the Germans will march at her side to fight against
France: they can put more than a million of men in the field in fifteen
days, and they will be three or four against one; with such odds there
is no need of genius, the war will go forward of itself--they are sure
of crushing the enemy."

"But the Emperor must know that as well as you, George," said I;
"therefore he will be for peace."

"No, he is relying upon his mitrailleuses: and then he wants to
strengthen his dynasty--what does the rest matter to him?  To establish
his dynasty he took an oath before God and man to the Republic, and
then he trampled upon his oath and the Republic; he brought destruction
upon thousands of good men, who were defending the laws against him; he
has enriched thousands of thieves who uphold him; he has corrupted our
youth by the evil example of the prosperity of brigands, and the
misfortunes of the well-disposed; he has brought low everything that
was worthy of respect, he has exalted everything which excites disgust
and contempt.  All the men who have approached this pestilence have
been contaminated, to the very marrow of their bones.  You, Christian,
evidently cannot comprehend these abominable things; but the worst
rogues in this country, the wildest vagabonds among your peasants,
could never form an opinion of the villany of this _honest man_: they
are saints compared with him; at the very sight of him the heart of
every true Frenchman rises up against him: for the sake of his dynasty
he would sell and sacrifice us all to the last man."

George, in uttering these words, was trembling with excitement: I saw
that he was convinced to the bottom of his heart of what he said.
Fortunately we were alone on the road, far from any village; no one
could hear us.

"But that Hohenzollern," I said, after a few minutes' silence, "that
Leopold Hohenzollern--is not he the cause of all that is going on?"

"No," said George; "if misfortunes come upon us, the _honest man_ alone
will be the cause of it.  If you did but read a newspaper, you would
see that the Spaniards wanted for their king, Montpensier, a son of
Louis Philippe; that could only have turned out to our good:
Montpensier would naturally have become the ally of France.  But that
was against the interests of the Napoleon dynasty; so the _honest man_
threatened Spain; then the Spaniards nominated this Prussian prince in
the place of Montpensier; a prince who could not stand alone, but whom
a million of Germans would support if necessary.  They fixed upon him
to annoy our gentleman; of course they had no need to ask for his
advice.  Did France consult any one? did she trouble herself about
England, Spain, or Germany, when she proclaimed the Republic, or when
she proclaimed Louis Bonaparte Emperor?  Has he then a right to thrust
his nose into their affairs?  No; it is unpleasant for us; but the
Spaniards were right; there was no need for them to put themselves out
to please our _worthy man_ and his fine family.  And now--happen what
may--I look no longer for peace; the Germans are withdrawing from our
country in all directions--they are joining their regiments; the order
has been given, and they obey; it is a bad sign.  In all the villages
that I have been passing through, and upon every road, I have seen
these fine fellows, their bundles over their shoulders--they are off
home!"

Thus spoke Cousin George to me.  I thought this was a little too bad;
but, on arriving home, the first thing my wife said to me was, "Do you
know that Frantz is going?"

"Our young man?"

"Yes, he wants his wages."

"Ah, indeed.  Let him come here at the back, and we will have a talk."

I was much surprised, and I made him come into my room at the bottom of
the mill, where I keep my papers and my books.  His cow-skin pack was
already fastened upon his shoulder.

"Are you going away, Frantz?  Have you anything to complain of?"

"No, nothing at all, Monsieur Weber.  But I am obliged to go; for I
have received orders to join my regiment."

"Are you a soldier, then?"

"Yes, in the Landwehr.  We are all soldiers in Germany."

"But if you liked to stay here, who would come and fetch you?"

"That is an impossibility, M. Weber.  I should be declared a deserter.
I could never return home again.  They would take away all my property,
present and to come; my brothers and sisters would come in for it."

"Ah, that is a different thing!  Now I understand.  There--there's your
certificate of character."

I had written a good certificate for him, for he was a good workman.  I
paid him what I owed him to the last farthing, and wished him a
prosperous journey.

Cousin George was right; those Germans were all moving homeward.  You
would never have thought there were so many in the country; some had
passed themselves off for Swiss, some for Luxemburgers; others had
quite settled down, and no one would ever have suspected that they owed
two or three more years' service to their country.  This gave rise to
disputes.  Those whose situations they had taken, and who bore ill-will
against them, fell upon them; the _gendarmerie_ beat up the mountains;
things were taking an ugly turn.

It was in vain that I affirmed at the mayoralty-house that the Emperor
breathed only peace; for the Gazettes of the préfecture talked of
nothing but the insults we had had to endure, the ambition of Prussia,
revenge for Sadowa, the Catholic nations who were going to declare _en
masse_ in our favor, and all the powers which affirmed the justice of
our cause: the enthusiasm for war grew higher and higher day by day;
especially that of the pedlers, the tinkers, the small dealers, and all
those good fellows who come out of the prisons, and who are continually
seeking for work without finding any; though they do find walls to get
over, doors to break in, cupboards to plunder.  All these excellent
people declared that it was for the honor of France to make war upon
Germany.

And then the Paris newspapers in the pay of the Government, as we have
more recently learned, continued arriving and were circulated gratis,
saying that our ambassador Benedetti had gone to see Frederick William
at the waters of Ems, to entreat him not to precipitate us into the
horrors of war; that the King had answered that all that was nothing to
him, for his Cousin Leopold of Hohenzollern had only consulted him out
of respect, as head of the family; that he was too good a relation to
advise him not to accept so good a windfall, which was coming down to
him out of the clouds.

Then, indeed, did the indignation of the Gazettes burst upon the
Germans: they must, by all means, be brought to their senses.  Now,
fancy the position of a mayor, who only two months before had made all
his village vote in the Plébiscite, promising them peace, and who saw
clearly at last how they had only made use of him as a tool to dupe his
people!  I dared no longer look my cousin in the face, for he had
warned me of the thing; and now I knew what to think of the honorable
members of the Government.

Affairs were going on so badly that war seemed imminent, when one fine
morning we learned that Hohenzollern had waived his right to be King of
Spain.  Ah! now we were out of the mess: now we could breathe more
freely.  That day my cousin himself was smiling; he came to the mill
and said to me: "The Emperor and his Ministers, his préfets and
sous-préfets, have not such long noses after all!  How well things were
going on too!  And now they will be obliged to wait for another
opportunity to begin.  How they must feel sold!"

We both laughed with delight.

More than twenty-five of the principal inhabitants came that day to
shake hands with me at the mayoralty-house.  It was concluded that his
excellency, Monsieur Emile Ollivier, would never be able to tinker this
war again, and that peace would be preserved in spite of him: in spite
of the Emperor, in spite of Marshal Leboeuf, who had declared to the
Senate _that we were ready--five times ready, and that during the whole
campaign we should never be short of so much as a gaiter button_.

Hohenzollern was praised up to the skies for having shown such good
sense; and as the reserves had been called out, many young men were
glad to be able to remain in the bosom of their families.

In a word, it was concluded that the whole affair was at an end; when
our _good man_ and his honorable Minister informed us that we had begun
to rejoice too soon.  All at once, the report ran that Frederick
William had shown our ambassador the door, saying something so terribly
strong against the honor of his Majesty Napoleon III., that nobody
dared repeat it.  It appeared that his Majesty the Emperor, seeing that
the King of Prussia had withdrawn his authorization from the Prince of
Hohenzollern to accept the Crown of Spain, had not been satisfied with
that; and that he had given orders to his ambassador to demand,
furthermore, his renunciation of any crown, whatever that the Spaniards
might offer him in all time to come--for himself or his family; and
that this King, who does not enjoy at all times the best of tempers,
had said something very strong touching _our honest man_.

That day I was at the mayoralty-house about eleven o'clock.  I had just
celebrated the marriage of André Fix with Kaan's daughter, and the
wedding-party had started for church, when the postman Michel comes in
and throws down the little _Moniteur_ upon the table.  Then I sat down
to read about the great battle in the Legislative Chambers, fought by
Thiers, Gambetta, Jules Favre, Glais-Bizoin and others, against the
Ministers, in defence of peace.

It was magnificent.  But this had not prevented the majority, appointed
to do everything, from declaring war against the Germans, on account of
what the King of Prussia had said.

What could he then have said?  His excellency Emile Ollivier has never
dared to repeat it!  My Cousin George declared that he had said
something that was right, and naturally very unpleasant: but it is
known now, by the reports of our ambassador, that the King of Prussia
had said _nothing at all_, and that the indignation of M. Ollivier was
nothing but a disgraceful sham to deceive the Chambers, and make them
vote for war.

Well, this was the commencement of our calamities; and; for my part, I
find that this did not present a cheerful prospect.  No!  After having
endured such miseries, it is not pleasant to remember that we owe them
all to M. Emile Ollivier, to Monsieur Leboeuf, to Monsieur Bonaparte,
and to other men of that stamp, who are living at this moment
comfortably in their country-houses in Italy, in Switzerland, in
England; whilst so many unhappy creatures have had their lives
sacrificed, or have been utterly ruined; have lost father, children,
and friends: but we Alsacians and Lorrainers have lost more than
all--our own mother-country.




CHAPTER IV

The day following this declaration, Cousin George, who could never look
upon anything cheerfully, started for Belfort.  He had ordered some
wine at Dijon, and he wished to stop it from coming.  It was the 22d
July.  George only returned five days later, on the 27th, having had
the greatest difficulty in getting there in time.

During these five days I had a hard time.  Orders were coming every
hour to hurry on the reserves and the Gardes Mobiles, and to cancel
renewable furloughs; the gendarmerie had no rest.  The Government
gazette was telling us of the enthusiasm of the nation for the war.  It
was pitiable; can you imagine young men sitting quietly at home,
thinking: "In five or six months I shall be exempt from service, I may
marry, settle, earn money," all at once, without either rhyme or
reason, becoming enthusiastic to go and knock over men they know
nothing of, and to risk their own bones against them.  Is there a
shadow of good sense in such notions?

And the Germans!  Will any one persuade us that they were coming for
their own pleasure--all these thousands of workmen, tradesmen,
manufacturers, good citizens, who were living in peace in their towns
and their villages?  Will any one maintain that they came and drew up
in lines facing our guns for their private satisfaction, with an
officer behind them, pistol in hand, to shoot them in the back if they
gave way?  Do you suppose they found any amusement in that?  Come now,
was not his excellency Monsieur Ollivier the only man who went into
war, as he himself said, "with a light heart?"  He was safe to come
back, he was: he had not much to fear; he is quite well; he made a
fortune in a very short time!  But the lads of our neighborhood,
Mathias Heitz, Jean Baptiste Werner, my son Jacob, and hundreds of
others, were in no such hurry: they would much rather have stayed in
their villages.

Later on it was another matter, when you were fighting for your
country; then, of course, many went off as a matter of duty, without
being summoned, whilst Monsieur Ollivier and his friends were hiding,
God knows where!  But at that particular moment when all our
misfortunes might have been averted, it is a falsehood to say that we
went enthusiastically to have ourselves cut to pieces for a pack of
intriguers and stage-players, whom we were just beginning to find out.

When we saw our son Jacob, in his blouse, his bundle under his arm,
come into the mill, saying, "Now, father, I am going; you must not
forget to pull up the dam in half an hour, for the water will be up:"
when he said this to me, I tell you my heart trembled; the cries of his
mother in the room behind made my hair stand on end.  I could have
wished to say a few words, to cheer up the lad, but my tongue refused
to move; and if I had held his excellency, M. Ollivier, or his
respected master, by the throat in a corner, they would have made a
queer figure: I should have strangled them in a moment!  At last Jacob
went.

All the young men of Sarrebourg, of Château Salins, and our
neighborhood, fifteen or sixteen hundred in number, were at Phalsbourg
to relieve the 84th, who at any moment might expect to be called away,
and who were complaining of their colonel for not claiming the foremost
rank for his regiment.  The officers were afraid of arriving too late;
they wanted promotion, crosses, medals: fighting was their trade.

What I have said about enthusiasm is true; it is equally true of the
Germans and the French; they had no desire to exterminate one another.
Bismarck and our _honest man_ alone are responsible: at their door lies
all the blood that has been shed.

Cousin George returned from Belfort on the 27th, in the evening.  I
fancy I still see him entering our room at nightfall; Grédel had
returned to us the day before, and we were at supper, with the tin lamp
upon the table; from my place, on the right, near the window, I was
able to watch the mill-dam.  George arrived.

"Ah! cousin, here you are back again!  Did you get on all right?"

"Yes, I have nothing to complain of," said he, taking a chair.  "I
arrived just in time to countermand my order; but it was only by good
luck.  What confusion all the way from Belfort to Strasbourg! the
troops, the recruits, the guns, the horses, the munitions of war, the
barrels of biscuits, all are arriving at the railway in heaps.  You
would not know the country.  Orders are asked for everywhere.  The
telegraph-wires are no longer for private use.  The commissaries don't
know where to find their stores, colonels are looking for their
regiments, generals for their brigades and divisions.  They are seeking
for salt, sugar, coffee, bacon, meat, saddles and bridles--and they are
getting charts of the Baltic for a campaign in the Vosges!  Oh!" cried
my cousin, uplifting his hands, "is it possible?  Have we come to
that---we! we!  Now it will be seen how expensive a thing is a
government of thieves!  I warn you, Christian, it will be a failure!
Perhaps there will not even be found rifles in the arsenals, after the
hundreds of millions voted to get rifles.  You will see; you will see!"

He had begun to stride to and fro excitedly, and we, sitting on our
chairs, were looking at him open-mouthed, staring first right and then
left.  His anger rose higher and higher, and he said, "Such is the
genius of our honest man, he conducts everything: he is our
commander-in-chief!  A retired artillery captain, with whom I travelled
from Schlestadt to Strasbourg, told me that in consequence of the bad
organization of our forces, we should be unable to place more than two
hundred and fifty thousand men in line along our frontier from
Luxembourg to Switzerland; and that the Germans, with their superior
and long-prepared organization, could oppose to us, in eight days, a
force of five to six hundred thousand men; so that they will be more
than two to one at the outset, and they will crush us in spite of the
valor of our soldiers.  This old officer, full of good sense, and who
has travelled in Germany, told me, besides, that the artillery of the
Prussians carries farther and is worked more rapidly than ours; which
would enable the Germans to dismount our batteries and our
mitrailleuses without getting any harm themselves.  It seems that our
great man never thought of that."

Then George began to laugh, and, as we said nothing, he went on: "And
the enemy--the Prussians, Bavarians, Badeners, Wurtembergers, the
_Courrier du Bas-Rhin_ declares that they are coming by regiments and
divisions from Frankfort and Munich to Rastadt, with guns, munitions,
and provisions in abundance; that all the country swarms with them,
from Karlsruhe to Baden; that they have blown up the bridge of Kehl, to
prevent us from outflanking them; that we have not troops enough at
Wissembourg.  But what is the use of complaining?  Our
commander-in-chief knows better than the _Courrier du Bas-Rhin_; he is
an iron-clad fellow, who takes no advice: a man must have some courage
to offer him advice!"

And all at once, stopping short, "Christian," he said, "I have come to
give you a little advice."

"What?"

"Hide all the money you have got; for, from what I have seen down
there, in a few days the enemy will be in Alsace."

Imagine my astonishment at hearing these words.  George was not the man
to joke about serious matters, nor was he a timid man: on the contrary,
you would have to go far to find a braver man.  Therefore, fancy my
wife's and Grédel's alarm.

"What, George," said I, "do you think that possible?"

"Listen to me," said he.  "When on the one side you see nothing but
empty beings, without education, without judgment, prudence, or method;
and on the other, men who for fifty years have been preparing a mortal
blow--anything is possible.  Yes, I believe it; in a fortnight the
Germans will be in Alsace.  Our mountains will check them; the
fortresses of Bitche, of Petite Pierre, of Phalsbourg and Lichtenberg;
the abatis, and the intrenchments which will be formed in the passes;
the ambuscades of every kind which will be set, the bridges and the
railway tunnels that they will blow up--all this will prevent them from
going farther for three or four months until winter; but, in the
meantime, they will send this way reconnoitring parties--Uhlans,
hussars, brigands of every kind--who will snap up everything, pillage
everywhere--wheat, flour, hay, straw, bacon, cattle, and principally
money.  War will be made upon our backs.  We Alsacians and Lorrainers,
we shall have to pay the bill.  I know all about it.  I have been all
over the country-side; believe me.  Hide everything; that is what I
mean to do; and, if anything happens, at least it will not be our
fault.  I would not go to bed without giving you this warning; so
good-night, Christian; good-night, everybody!"

He left us, and we sat a few moments gazing stupidly at each other.  My
wife and Grédel wanted to hide everything that very night.  Grédel,
ever since she had got Jean Baptiste Werner into her head, was thinking
of nothing but her marriage-portion.  She knew that we had about a
hundred louis in cent-sous pieces in a basket at the bottom of the
cupboard; she said to herself, "That's my marriage-portion!"  And this
troubled her more than anything: she even grew bolder, and wanted to
keep the keys herself.  But her mother is not a woman to be led: every
minute she cried: "Take care, Grédel! mind what you are about!"

She looked daggers at her; and I was continually obliged to come to
preserve peace between them; for Catherine is not gifted with patience.
And so all our troubles came together.

But, in spite of what George had just been saying, I was not afraid.
The Germans were less than sixteen leagues from us, it is true, but
they would have first to cross the Rhine; then we knew that at
Mederbronn the people were complaining of the troops cantoned in the
villages: this was a proof that there was no lack of soldiers; and then
MacMahon was at Strasbourg; the Turcos, the Zouaves, and the Chasseurs
d'Afrique were coming up.

So I said to my wife that there was no hurry yet; that Cousin George
had long detested the Emperor; but that all that did not mean much, and
it was better to see things for one's self; that I should go to Saverne
market, and if things looked bad, then I would sell all our corn and
flour, which would come to a hundred louis, and which we would bury
directly with the rest.

My wife took courage; and if I had not had a great deal to grind for
the bakers in our village, I should have gone next day to Saverne and
should have seen what was going on.  Unfortunately, ever since Frantz
and Jacob had left, the mill was on my hands, and I scarcely had time
to turn round.

Jacob was a great trouble to me besides, asking for money by the
postman Michel.  This man told me that the Mobiles had not yet been
called out, and that they were lounging from one public-house to
another in gangs to kill time; that they had received no rifles; that
they were not chartered in the barracks; and that they did not get a
farthing for their food.

This disorder disgusted me; and I reflected that an Emperor who sends
for all the young men in harvest-time, ought at least to feed them, and
not leave them to be an expense to their parents.  For all that I sent
money to Jacob: I could not allow him to suffer hunger.  But it was a
trouble to my mind to keep him down there with my money, sauntering
about with his hands in his pockets, whilst I, at my age, was obliged
to carry sacks up into the loft, to fetch them down again, to load the
carts alone, and, besides, to watch the mill; for no one could be met
with now, and the old day-laborer, Donadieu, quite a cripple, was all
the help I had.  After that, only imagine our anxiety, our fatigue, and
our embarrassment to know what to do.

The other people in the village were in no better spirits than
ourselves.  The old men and women thought of their sons shut up in the
town, and the great drought continuing: we could rely upon nothing.
The smallpox had broken out, too.  Nothing would sell, nothing could be
sent by railway: planks, beams, felled timber, building-stone, all lay
at the saw-pits or the stone-quarry.  The sous-préfet kept on troubling
me to search and find out three or four scamps who had not reported
themselves, and the consequence of all this was that I did not get to
Saverne that week.

Then it was announced that at last the Emperor had just quitted Paris,
to place himself at the head of his armies; and five or six days after
came the news of his great victory at Sarrebrück, where the
mitrailleuses had mown down the Prussians; where the little Prince had
picked up bullets, "which made old soldiers shed tears of emotion."

On learning this the people became crazy with joy.  On all sides were
heard cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" and Monsieur le Curé preached the
extermination of the heretic Prussians.  Never had the like been seen.
That very day, toward evening, just after stopping the mill, all at
once I heard in the distance, toward the road, cries of "_Aux armes,
citoyens! formez vos bataillons!_"

The dust from the road rose up into the clouds.  It was the 84th
departing from Phalsbourg; they were going to Metz, and the people who
were working in the fields near the road, said, on returning at night,
that the poor soldiers, with their knapsacks on their shoulders, could
scarcely march for the heat; that the people were treating them with
eau-de-vie and wine at all the doors in Metting, and they said,
"Good-by! long life to you!" that the officers, too, were shaking hands
with everybody, whilst the people shouted, "Vive l'Empereur!"

Yes, this victory of Sarrebrück had changed the face of things in our
villages; the love of war was returning.  War is always popular when it
is successful, and there is a prospect of extending our own territory
into other peoples' countries.

That night about nine o'clock I went to caution my cousin to hold his
tongue; for after this great victory one word against the dynasty might
send him a very long way off.  He was alone with his wife, and said to
me, "Thank you, Christian, I have seen the despatch.  A few brave
fellows have been killed, and they have shown the young Prince to the
army.  That poor little weakly creature has picked up a few bullets on
the battle-field.  He is the heir of his uncle, the terrible captain of
Jena and Austerlitz!  Only one officer has been killed; it is not much;
but if the heir of the dynasty had had but a scratch, the gazettes
would have shed tears, and it would have been our duty to fall
fainting."

"Do try to be quiet," said I, looking to see if the windows were all
close.  "Do take care, George.  Don't commit yourself to Placiard and
the gendarmes."

"Yes," said he, "the enemies of the dynasty are at this moment in worse
danger than the little Prince.  If victories go on, they will run the
risk of being plucked pretty bare.  I am quite aware of that, my
cousin; and so I thank you for having come to warn me."

This is all that he said to me, and I returned home full of thoughts.

Next day, Thursday, market-day, I drove my first two wagon-loads of
flour to Saverne, and sold them at a good figure.  That day I observed
the tremendous movement along the railroads, of which Cousin George had
spoken; the carriage of mitrailleuses, guns, chests of biscuits, and
the enthusiasm of the people, who were pouring out wine for the
soldiers.

It was just like a fair in the principal street, from the chateau to
the station--a fair of little white loaves and sausages; but the
Turcos, with their blue jackets, their linen trousers, and their
scarlet caps, took the place of honor: everybody wanted to treat them.

I had never before seen any of these men; their yellow skins, their
thick lips, the conspicuous whites of their eyes, surprised me; and I
said to myself, seeing the long strides they took with their thin legs,
that the Germans would find them unpleasant neighbors.  Their officers,
too, with their swords at their sides, and their pointed beards, looked
splendid soldiers.  At every public-house door, a few Chasseurs
d'Afrique had tied their small light horses, all alike and beautifully
formed like deer.  No one refused them anything; and in all directions,
in the inns, the talk was of ambulances and collections for the
wounded.  Well, seeing all this, George's ideas seemed to me more and
more opposed to sound sense, and I felt sure that we were going to
crush all resistance.

About two o'clock, having dined at the Boeuf, I took the way to the
village through Phalsbourg, to see Jacob in passing.  As I went up the
hill, something glittered from time to time on the slope through the
woods, when all at once hundreds of cuirassiers came out upon the road
by the Alsace fountain.  They were advancing at a slow pace by twos,
their helmets and their cuirasses threw back flashes of light upon all
the trees, and the trampling of their hoofs rolled like the rush of a
mighty river.

Then I drew my wagon to one side to see all these men march past me,
sitting immovable in their saddles as if they were sleeping, the head
inclined forward, and the mustache hanging, riding strong, square-built
horses, the canvas bag suspended from the side, and the sabre ringing
against the boot.  Thus they filed past me for half an hour.  They
extended their long lines, and stretched on yet to the Schlittenbach.
I thought there would be no end to them.  Yet these were only two
regiments; two others were encamped upon the glacis of Phalsbourg,
where I arrived about five in the afternoon.  They were driving the
pickets into the turf with axes; they were lighting fires for cooking;
the horses were neighing, and the townspeople--men, women, and
children--were standing gazing at them.

I passed on my way, reflecting upon the strength of such an army, and
pitying, by anticipation, the ill-fated Germans whom they were going to
encounter.  Entering through the gate of Germany, I saw the officers
looking for lodgings, the Gardes Mobiles, in blouses, mounting guard.
They had received their rifles that morning; and the evening before,
Monsieur le Sous-préfet of Sarrebourg had come himself to appoint the
officers of the National Guard.  This is what I had learned at the
Vacheron brewery, where I had stopped, leaving my cart outside at the
corner of the "Trois Pigeons."

Everybody was talking about our victory at Sarrebrück, especially those
cuirassiers, who were emptying bottles by the hundred, to allay the
dust of the road.  They looked quite pleased, and were saying that war
on a large scale was beginning again, and that the heavy cavalry would
be in demand.  It was quite a pleasure to look on them, with their red
ears, and to hear them rejoicing at the prospect of meeting the enemy
soon.

In the midst of all these swarms of people, of servants running,
citizens coming and going, I could have wished to see Jacob; but where
was I to look for him?  At last I recognized a lad of our
village--Nicolas Maïsse--the son of the wood-turner, our neighbor, who
immediately undertook to find him.  He went out, and in a quarter of an
hour Jacob appeared.

The poor fellow embraced me.  The tears came into my eyes.

"Well now," said I, "sit down.  Are you pretty well?"

"I had rather be at home," said he.

"Yes, but that is impossible now; you must have patience."

I also invited young Maïsse to take a glass with us, and both
complained bitterly that Mathias Heitz, junior, had been made a
lieutenant, who knew no more of the science of war than they did, and
who now had ordered of Kuhn, the tailor, an officer's uniform,
gold-laced up to the shoulders.  Yet Mathias was a friend of Jacob's.
But justice is justice.

This piece of news filled me with indignation: what should Mathias
Heitz be made an officer for?  He had never learned anything at
college; he would never have been able to earn a couple of
_liards_--whilst our Jacob was a good miller's apprentice.

It was abominable.  However, I made no remark; I only asked if Jean
Baptiste Werner, who had a few days before joined the artillery of the
National Guard, was an officer too?

Then they replied angrily that Jean Baptiste Werner, in spite of his
African and Mexican campaigns, was only a gunner in the Mariet battery,
behind the powder magazines.  Those who knew nothing became officers;
those who knew something of war, like Mariet and Werner, were privates,
or at the most sergeants.  All this showed me that Cousin George was
right in saying that we should be driven like beasts, and that our
chiefs were void of common-sense.

Looking at all these people coming and going, the time passed away.
About eight o'clock, as we were hungry, and I wished to keep my boy
with me as long as I could, I sent for a good salad and sausages, and
we were eating together, with full hearts, to be sure, but with a good
appetite.  But a few moments after the retreat, just when the
cuirassiers were going to camp out, and their officers, heavy and
weary, were going to rest in their lodgings, a few bugle notes were
sounded in the _place d'armes_, and we heard a cry--"To horse! to
horse!"

Immediately all was excitement.  A despatch had arrived; the officers
put on their helmets, fastened on their swords, and came running out
through the gate of Germany.  Countenances changed; every one asked,
"What is the meaning of this?"

At the same time the police inspector came up; he had seen my cart, and
cried, "Strangers must leave the place--the gates are going to be
closed."

Then I had only just time to embrace my son, to press Nicolas's hand,
and to start at a sharp gallop for the gate of France.  The drawbridge
was just on the rise as I passed it; five minutes after I was galloping
along the white high-road by moonlight, on the way to Metting.  Outside
on the glacis, there was not a sound; the pickets had been drawn, and
the two regiments of cavalry were on the road to Saverne.

I arrived home late: everybody was asleep in our village.  Nobody
suspected what was about to happen within a week.




CHAPTER V

The whole way I thought of nothing but the cuirassiers.  This order to
march immediately appeared to me to betoken no good: something serious
must have occurred; and as, upon the stroke of eleven, I was putting my
horses up, after having put my cart under its shed, the idea came into
my head that it was time now to hide my money.  I was bringing back
from Saverne sixteen hundred livres: this heavy leathern purse in my
pocket was perhaps what reminded me.  I remembered what Cousin George
had said about Uhlans and other scamps of that sort, and I felt a cold
shiver come over me.

Having, then, gone upstairs very softly, I awoke my wife: "Get up,
Catherine."

"What is the matter?"

"Get up: it is time to hide our money."

"But what is going on?"

"Nothing.  Be quiet--make no noise--Grédel is asleep.  You will carry
the basket: put into it your ring and your ear-rings, everything that
we have got.  You hear me!  I am going to empty the ditch, and we will
bury everything at the bottom of it."

Then, without answering, she arose.

I went down to the mill, opened the back-door softly, and listened.
Nothing was stirring in the village; you might have heard a cat moving.
The mill had stopped, and the water was pretty high.  I lifted the
mill-dam, the water began to rush, boiling, down the gulley; but our
neighbors were used to this noise even in their sleep, so all remained
quiet.

Then I went in again, and I was busy emptying into a corner the little
box of oak in which I kept my tools--the pincers, the hammer, the
screw-driver, and the nails, when my wife, in her slippers, came
downstairs.  She had the basket under her arm, and was carrying the
lighted lantern.  I blew it out in a moment, thinking: Never was a
woman such a fool.

Downstairs I asked Catherine if everything was in the basket.

"Yes."

"Right.  But I have brought from Saverne sixteen hundred francs: the
wheat and the flour sold well."

I had put some bran into the box; everything was carefully laid in the
bottom; and then I put on a padlock, and we went out, after having
looked to see if all was quiet in the neighborhood.  The sluice was
already almost empty; there was only one or two feet of water.  I
cleared away the few stones which kept the rest of the water from
running out, and went into it with my spade and pickaxe as far as just
beneath the dam, where I began to make a deep hole; the water was
hindering me, but it was flowing still.

Catherine, above, was keeping watch: sometimes she gave a low "Hush!"

Then we listened, but it was nothing--the mewing of a cat, the noise of
the running water--and I went on digging.  If anyone had had the
misfortune to surprise us, I should have been capable of doing him a
mischief.  Happily no one came; and about two o'clock in the morning
the hole was three or four feet deep.  I let down the box, and laid it
down level, first stamping soil down upon it with my heavy shoes, then
gravel, then large stones, then sand; the mud would cover all over of
itself: there is always plenty of mud in a millstream.

After this I came out again covered with mud.  I shut down the dam, and
the water began to rise.  About three o'clock, at the dawn of day, the
sluice was almost full.  I could have begun grinding again; and nobody
would ever have imagined that in this great whirling stream, nine feet
under water and three feet under ground, lay a snug little square box
of oak, clamped with iron, with a good padlock on it, and more than
four thousand livres inside.  I chuckled inwardly, and said: "Now let
the rascals come!"

And Catherine was well pleased too.  But about four, just as I was
going up to bed again, comes Grédel, pale with alarm, crying: "Where is
the money!"

She had seen the cupboard open and the basket empty.  Never had she had
such a fright in her life before.  Thinking that her marriage-portion
was gone, her ragged hair stood upon end; she was as pale as a sheet.
"Be quiet," I said, "the money is in a safe place."

"Where?"

"It is hidden."

"Where?"

She looked as if she was going to seize me by the collar, but her
mother said to her: "That is no business of yours."

Then she became furious, and said, that if we came to die, she would
not know where to find her marriage-portion.

This quarrelling annoyed me, and I said to her: "We are not going to
die; on the contrary, we shall live a long while yet, to prevent you
and your Jean Baptiste from inheriting our goods."

And thereupon I went to bed, leaving Grédel and her mother to come to a
settlement together.

All I can say is that girls, when they have got anything into their
heads, become too bold with their parents, and all the excellent
training they have had ends in nothing.  Thank God, I had nothing to
reproach myself with on that score, nor her mother either.  Grédel had
had four times as many blows as Jacob, because she deserved it, on
account of her wanting to keep everything, putting it all into her own
cupboard, and saying, "There, that's mine!"

Yes, indeed, she had had plenty of correction of that kind: but you
cannot beat a girl of twenty: you cannot correct girls at that age; and
that was just my misfortune: it ought to go on forever!

Well, it can't be helped.

She upset the house and rummaged the mill from top to bottom, she
visited the garden, and her mother said to her, "You see, we have got
it in a safe place; since you cannot find it, the Uhlans won't."

I remember that just as we were going up to sleep, that day, the 5th of
August, early in the morning, Catherine and I had seen Cousin George in
his char-à-banc coming down the valley of Dosenheim, and it seemed to
us that he was out very early.  The village was waking up; other
people, too, were going to work: I lay down, and about eight o'clock my
wife woke me to tell me that the postman, Michel, was there.  I came
down, and saw Michel standing in our parlor with his letter-bag under
his arm.  He was thoughtful, and told me that the worst reports were
abroad; that they were speaking of the great battle near Wissembourg,
where we had been defeated; that several maintained that we had lost
ten thousand men, and the Germans seventeen thousand; but that there
was nothing certain, because it was not known whence these rumors
proceeded, only that the commanding officer of Phalsbourg, Taillant,
had proclaimed that morning that the inhabitants would be obliged to
lay in provisions for six weeks.  Naturally, such a proclamation set
people a-thinking, and they said: "Have we a siege before us?  Have we
gone back to the times of the great retreat and downfall of the first
Emperor?  Ought things forever to end in the same fashion?"

My wife, Grédel, and I, stood listening to Michel, with lips
compressed, without interrupting him.

"And you, Michel," said I, when he had done, "what do you think of it
all?"

"Monsieur le Maire, I am a poor postman; I want my place; and if my
five hundred francs a year were taken from me, what would become of my
wife and children?"

Then I saw that he considered our prospects were not good.  He handed
me a letter from Monsieur le Sous-préfet--it was the last--telling me
to watch false reports; that false news should be severely punished, by
order of our préfet, Monsieur Podevin.

We could have wished no better than that the news had been false!  But
at that time, everything that displeased the sous-préfets, the préfets,
the Ministers, and the Emperor, was false, and everything that pleased
them, everything that helped to deceive people--like that peaceful
Plébiscite--was truth!

Let us change the subject: the thought of these things turns me sick!

Michel went away, and all that day might be noticed a stir of
excitement in our village; men coming and going, women watching, people
going into the wood, each with a bag, spade, and pickaxe; stables
clearing out; a great movement, and all faces full of care: I have
always thought that at that moment every one was hiding, burying
anything he could hide or bury.  I was sorry I had not begun to sell my
corn sooner, when my cousin had cautioned me a week before; but my
duties as mayor had prevented me: we must pay for our honors.  I had
still four cart-loads of corn in my barn--now where could I put them?
And the cattle, and the furniture, the bedding, provisions of every
sort?  Never will our people forget those days, when every one was
expecting, listening, and saying: "We are like the bird upon the twig.
We have toiled, and sweated, and saved for fifty years, to get a little
property of our own; to-morrow shall we have anything left?  And next
week, next month--shall we not be starving to death?  And in those days
of distress, shall we be able to borrow a couple of liards upon our
land, or our house?  Who will lend to us?  And all this on account of
whom?  Scoundrels who have taken us in."

Ah! if there is any justice above, as every honest man believes, these
abominable fellows will have a heavy reckoning to pay.  So many
miserable men, women, children await them there; they are there to
demand satisfaction for all their sufferings.  Yes, I believe it.  But
they--oh! they believe in nothing!  There are, indeed, dreadful
brigands in this world!

All that day was spent thus, in weariness and anxiety.  Nothing was
known.  We questioned the people who were coming from Dosenheim,
Neuviller, or from farther still, but they gave no answer but this:
"Make your preparations!  The enemy is advancing!"

And then my stupid fool of a deputy, Placiard, who for fifteen years
did nothing but cry for tobacco licenses, stamp offices, promotion for
his sons, for his son-in-law, and even for himself--a sort of beggar,
who spent his life in drawing up petitions and denunciations--he came
into the mill, saying, "Monsieur le Maire, everything is going on
well--çamarche--the enemy are being drawn into the plain: they are
coming into the net.  To-morrow we shall hear that they are all
exterminated, every one!"

And the municipal councillors, Arnold, Frantz, Sépel, Baptiste Dida,
the wood-monger, came crowding in, saying that the enemy must be
exterminated; that fire must be set to the forest of Haguenau to roast
them, and so on!  Every one had his own plan.  What fools men can be!

But the worst of it was when my wife, having learned from Michel the
proclamations in the town, went up into our bacon stores, to send a few
provisions to Jacob; and she perceived our two best hams were missing,
with a pig's cheek, and some sausages which had been smoked weeks.

Then you should have seen her flying down the stairs, declaring that
the house was full of thieves; that there was no trusting anybody; and
Grédel, crying louder than she, that surely Frantz, that thief of a
Badener, had made off with them.  But mother had visited the bacon-room
a couple of days after Frantz had left; she had seen that everything
was straight; and her wrath redoubled.

Then said Grédel that perhaps Jacob, before leaving home, had put the
hams into his bag with all the rest; but mother screamed, "It is a
falsehood!  I should have seen it.  Jacob has never taken anything
without asking for it.  He is an honest lad."

The clatter of the mill was music compared to this uproar: I could have
wished to take to flight.

About seven my cousin came back upon his char-à-banc.  He was returning
from Alsace; and I immediately ran into his house to hear what news he
had.  George, in his large parlor, was pulling off his boots and
putting on his blouse when I entered.

"Is that you, Christian?" said he.  "Is your money safe?"

"Yes."

"Very well.  I have just heard fine news at Bouxviller.  Our affairs
are in splendid order!  We have famous generals!  Oh, yes! here is
rather a queer beginning; and, if matters go on in this way, we shall
come to a remarkable end."

His wife, Marie Anne, was coming in from the kitchen: she set upon the
table a leg of mutton, bread, and wine.  George sat down, and whilst
eating, told me that two regiments of the line, a regiment of Turcos, a
battalion of light infantry, and a regiment of light horse, with three
guns, had been posted in advance of Wissembourg, and that they were
there quietly bathing in the Lauter, and washing their clothes, right
in front of fifty thousand Germans, hidden in the woods; not to mention
eighty thousand more on our right, who were only waiting for a good
opportunity to cross the Rhine.  They had been posted, as it were, in
the very jaws of a wolf, which had only to give a snap to catch them,
every one--and this had not failed to take place!

The Germans had surprised our small army corps the morning before;
fierce encounters had taken place in the vines around Wissembourg; our
men were short of artillery; the Turcos, the light-armed men, and the
line had fought like lions, one to six: they had even taken eight guns
in the beginning of the action; but German supports coming up in heavy
masses had at last cut them to pieces; they had bombarded Wissembourg,
and set fire to the town; only a few of our men had been able to
retreat to the cover of the woods of Bitche going up the Vosse.  It was
said that a general had been killed, and that villages were lying in
ruins.

It was at Bouxviller that my cousin had heard of this disaster, some of
the light horsemen having arrived the same evening.  There was also a
talk of deserters; as if soldiers, after being routed, without
knowledge of a woody country full of mountains, going straight before
them to escape from the enemy, should be denounced as deserters.  This
is one of the abominations that we have seen since that time.  Many
heartless people preferred crying out that these poor soldiers had
deserted rather than give them bread and wine: it was more convenient,
and cheaper.

"Now," said George, "all the army of Strasbourg, and that of the
interior, who should have been in perfect order, fresh, rested, and
provided with everything at Haguenau, but the rear of which is still
lagging behind on the railways as far as Luneville; all these are
running down there, to check the invasion.  Fourteen regiments of
cavalry, principally cuirassiers and chasseurs, are assembling at
Brumath.  Something is expected there; MacMahon is already on the
heights of Reichshoffen, with the commander of engineers, Mohl, of
Haguenau, and other staff officers, to select his position.  As fast as
the troops arrive they extend before Mederbronn.  I heard this from
some people who were flying with wives and children, their beds and
other chattels on carts, as I was leaving Bouxviller about three
o'clock.  They wanted to reach the fort of Petite Pierre; but hearing
that the fort is occupied by a company, they have moved toward
Strasbourg.  I think they were right.  A great city, like Strasbourg,
has always more resources than a small place, where they have only a
few palisades stuck up to hide fifty men."

This was what Cousin George had learned that very day.

Hearing him speak, my first thought was to run to the mill, load as
much furniture as I could upon two wagons, and drive at once to
Phalsbourg; but my cousin told me that the gates would be closed; that
we should have to wait outside until the reopening of the barriers, and
that we must hope that it would be time enough to-morrow.

According to him, the great battle would not be fought for two or three
days yet, because a great number of Germans had yet to cross the river,
and they would, no doubt, be opposed.  It is true that the fifty
thousand men who had made themselves masters of Wissembourg might
descend the Sauer; but then we should be nearly equal, and it was to
the interest of the Germans only to fight when they were three to one.
George had heard some officers discussing this point at the inn, in the
presence of many listeners, and he believed, according to this, that
the 5th army corps, which was extending in the direction of Metz, by
Bitche and Sarreguemines, under the orders of General de Failly, would
have time to arrive and support MacMahon.  I thought so, too: it seemed
a matter of course.

We talked over these miseries till nine o'clock.  My wife and Grédel
had come to carry their quarrels even to my Cousin Marie Anne's, who
said to them: "Oh! do try to be reasonable.  What matter two or three
hams, Catherine?  Perhaps you will soon be glad to know that they have
done good to Jacob, instead of seeing them eaten up by Uhlans under
your own eyes."

You may be sure that my wife did not agree with this.  But at ten
o'clock, Cousin Marie Anne, full of thought, having said that her
husband was tired and that he had need of rest, we left, after having
wished him good-evening, and we returned home.

That night--if my wife had not awoke from time to time, to tell me that
we were robbed, that the thieves were taking everything from us, and
that we should be ruined at last--I should have slept very well; but
there seemed no end to her worrying, and I saw that she suspected
Grédel of having given the hams to Michel for Jean Baptiste Werner,
without, however, daring to say so much.  I was thinking of other
things, and was glad to see her go down in the morning to attend to her
kitchen; not till then did I get an hour or two of sleep.

The next day all was quiet in the village; everybody had hid his
valuables, and they only feared one thing, and that was a sortie from
Phalsbourg to carry off our cattle.  All the children were set to watch
in the direction of Wéchem; and if anything had stirred in that
quarter, all the cattle would have been driven into the woods in ten
minutes.

But there was no movement.  All the soldiers of the line had gone, and
the commanding officer, Taillant, could not send the lads of our
village to carry away their own parents' cattle.  So all this day, the
10th of August, was quiet enough in our mountains.

About twelve o'clock some wood-cutters of Krappenfelz came to tell us
that they could hear cannon on the heights of the Falberg, in the
direction of Alsace; but they were not believed, and it was said:

"These are inventions to frighten us."  For many people take a pleasure
in frightening others.

All was quiet until about ten o'clock at night.  It was very warm; I
was sitting on a bench before my mill, in my shirt-sleeves, thinking of
all my troubles.  From time to time a thick cloud overshadowed the
moon, which had not happened for a long time, and rain was hoped for.
Grédel was washing the plates and dishes in the kitchen; my wife was
trotting up and down, peeping into the cupboards to see if anything
else had been stolen besides her hams; in the village, windows and
shutters were closing one after another; and I was going up to bed too,
when a kind of a rumor rose from the wood and attracted my attention;
it was a distant murmuring; something was galloping there, carts were
rolling, a gust of wind was passing.  What could it be?  My wife and
Grédel had gone out, and were listening too.  At that moment, from the
other end of the village, arose a dispute which prevented us from
making out this noise any longer, which was approaching from the
mountain, and I said to Catherine: "The drunkards at the 'Cruchon d'Or'
begin these disturbances every night.  I must put an end to that, for
it is a disgrace to the parish."

But I had scarcely said this when a crowd of people appeared in the
street opposite the mill, shouting, "A deserter! a deserter!"

And the shrill voice of my deputy Placiard rose above all the rest,
crying: "Take care of the horse!  Mind you don't let him escape!"

A tall cuirassier was moving quietly in the midst of all this mob,
every man in which wanted to lay hold of him--one by the arm, another
by the collar.  He was making no resistance, and his horse followed him
limping, and hanging his head; the _bangard_ was leading him by the
bridle.

Placiard then seeing me at the door, cried: "Monsieur le Maire, I bring
you a deserter, one of those who fled from Wissembourg, and who are now
prowling about the country to live and glut at the expense of the
country people.  He is drunk even now.  I caught him myself."  All the
rest, men and women, shouted: "Shut him up in a stable!  Send for the
gendarmes to fetch him away!  Do this--do that"--and so on.

I was much astonished to see this fine tall fellow, with his helmet and
his cuirass, who could have shouldered his way in a minute through all
these people, going with them like a lamb.  Cousin George had come up
at the same moment.  We hardly knew what to do about this business, for
man and horse were standing there perfectly still, as if stupefied.

At last I felt I must say something, and I said: "Come in."

The _bangard_ tied up the horse to the ring in the barn, and we all
burst in a great crowd into my large parlor downstairs, slamming the
door in the face of all those brawlers who had nothing to do in the
house; but they remained outside, never ceasing for a moment to shout:
"A deserter!"  And half the village was coming: in all directions you
could hear the wooden clogs clattering.

Once in the room, my wife fetched a candle from the kitchen.  Then,
catching sight of this strong and square-built man, with his thick
mustaches, his tall figure, his sword at his side, his sleeves and his
cuirass stained with blood, and the skin on one side of his face torn
away and bruised all round to the back of the head, we saw at once that
he was not a deserter, and that something terrible had happened in our
neighborhood; and Placiard having again begun to tell us how he had
himself caught this soldier in his garden, where the poor wretch was
going to hide, George cried indignantly: "Come now, does a man like
that hide himself?  I tell you, M. Placiard, that it would have taken
twenty like you to hold him, if he had chosen to resist."

The cuirassier then turned his head and gazed at George; but he spoke
not a word.  He seemed to be mute with stupefaction.

"You have come from a fight, my friend, haven't you?" said my cousin,
gently.

"Yes, sir."

"So they have been fighting to-day?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

The cuirassier pointed in the direction of the Falberg, on the left by
the saw-mills.  "Down there," he said, "behind the mountains."

"At Reichshoffen?"

"Yes, that is it: at Reichshoffen."

"This man is exhausted," said George: "Catherine, bring some wine."  My
wife took the bottle out of the cupboard and filled a glass; but the
cuirassier would not drink: he looked on the ground before him, as if
something was before his eyes.  What he had just told us made us turn
pale.

"And," said George, "the cuirassiers charged?"

"Yes," said the soldier, "all of them."

"Where is your regiment now?"  He raised his head.

"My regiment? it is down there in the vineyards, amongst the hops, in
the river...."

"What! in the river?"

"Yes: there are no more cuirassiers!"

"No more cuirassiers?" cried my cousin; "the six regiments?"

"Yes, it is all over!" said the soldier, in a low voice: "the grapeshot
has mown them down.  There are none left!"

[Illustration: "THE GRAPESHOT HAS MOWN THEM DOWN.  THERE ARE NONE
LEFT!"]

"Oh!" cried Placiard, "now you see: what did I say?  He is one of those
villains who propagate false reports.  Can six regiments be mown down?
Did you not yourself say, Monsieur le Maire, that those six regiments
alone would bear down everything before them?"

I could answer nothing; but the perspiration ran down my face.

"You must lock him up somewhere, and let the gendarmes know," continued
Placiard.  "Such are the orders of Monsieur le Sous-préfet."

The cuirassier wiped with his sleeves the blood which was trickling
upon his cheek; he appeared to hear nothing.

Out of all the open windows were leaning the forms of the village
people, with attentive ears.

George and I looked at each other in alarm.

"You have blood upon you," said my cousin, pointing to the soldier's
cuirass, who started and answered:

"Yes; that is the blood of a white lancer: I killed him!"

"And that wound upon your cheek?"

"That was given me with a sword handle.  I got that from a Bavarian
officer--it stunned me--I could no longer see--my horse galloped away
with me."

"So you were hand-to-hand?"

"Yes, twice; we could not use our swords: the men caught hold of one
another, fought and killed one another with sword hilts."

Placiard was again going to begin his exclamations, when George became
furious: "Hold your tongue, you abominable toady!  Are you not ashamed
of insulting a brave soldier, who has fought for his country?"

"Monsieur le Maire," cried Placiard, "will you suffer me to be insulted
under your roof while I am fulfilling my duties as deputy?"

I was much puzzled: but George, looking angrily at him, was going to
answer for me; when a loud cry arose outside in the midst of a furious
clattering of horses: a terrible cry, which pierced to the very marrow
of our bones.

"The Prussians!  The Prussians!"

At the same moment a troop of disbanded horsemen were flying past our
windows at full speed: they flashed past us like lightning; the crowd
fell back; the women screamed: "Lord have mercy upon us! we are all
lost!"

After these cries, and the passage of these men, I stood as if rooted
to the floor, listening to what was going on outside; but in another
minute all was silence.  Turning round, I saw that everybody,
neighbors, men and women, Placiard, the rural policeman, all had
slipped out behind.  Grédel, my wife, George, the cuirassier, and
myself, stood alone in the room.  My cousin said to me: "This man has
told you the truth; the great battle has been fought and lost to-day!
These are the first fugitives who have just passed.  Now is the time
for calmness and courage; let everybody be prepared: we are going to
witness terrible things."

And turning to the soldier: "You may go, my friend," he said, "your
horse is there; but if you had rather stay----"

"No; I will not be made prisoner!"

"Then come, I will put you on the way."

We went out together.  The horse before the barn had not moved; I
helped the cuirassier to mount: George said to him: "Here, on the
right, is the road to Metz; on the left to Phalsbourg; at Phalsbourg,
by going to the right, you will be on the road to Paris."

And the horse began to walk, dragging itself painfully.  Then only did
we see that a shred of flesh was hanging down its leg, and that it had
lost a great deal of blood.  My cousin followed, forgetting to say
good-night.  Was it possible to sleep after that?

From time to time during the night horsemen rode past at the gallop.
Once, at daybreak, I went to the mill-dam, to look down the valley;
they were coming out of the woods by fives, sixes, and tens, leaping
out of the hedges, smashing the young trees; instead of following the
road, they passed through the fields, crossed the river, and rode up
the hill in front, without troubling about the corps.  There seemed no
end of them!

About six the bells began to ring for matins.  It was Sunday, the 7th
August, 1870; the weather was magnificent.  Monsieur le Curé crossed
the street at nine, to go to church, but only a few old women attended
the service to pray.

Then commenced the endless passage of the defeated army retreating upon
Sarrebourg, down the valley; a spectacle of desolation such as I shall
never forget in my life.  Hundreds of men who could scarcely be
recognized as Frenchmen were coming up in disordered bands; cavalry,
infantry, cuirassiers without cuirasses, horsemen on foot, foot
soldiers on horseback, three-fourths unarmed!  Crowds of men without
officers, all going straight on in silence.

What has always surprised me is that no officers were to be seen.  What
had become of them?  I cannot say.

No more singing.  No more cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" "À Berlin! à
Berlin!"

Dismay and discouragement were manifest in every countenance.

Those who shall come after will see worse things than this: since men
are wolves, foxes, hawks, owls, all this must come round again: a
hundred times, a thousand times; from age to age, until the
consummation of time: it is the glory of kings and emperors passing by!

They all cry, "Jesus, have pity upon us, miserable sinners!  Jesus,
Saviour, bless us!"

But all this time they are hard at work with the hooked bill and the
sharp claws upon the unhappy carcass of mankind.  Each tears away his
morsel!  And yet they all have faith, Lutherans and Catholics: they are
all worthy people!  And so on forever.

Thus passed our army after the battle of Reichshoffen; and the others
the Germans were following: they were at Haguenau, at Tugwiller, at
Bouxviller; they were advancing from Dosenheim, to enter our valley;
very soon we were to see them!




CHAPTER VI

All that day we were in a state of fear, Grédel alone was afraid of
nothing; she came in and out, bringing us the news of Rothalp.

Many people from Tugwiller, Neuwiller, Dosenheim, passed through the
village with carts full of furniture, bedding, mattresses, all in
confusion, shouting, calling to each other, whipping their horses,
turning round to see if the Uhlans were not at their heels; it was the
general flight before the deluge.  These unhappy beings had lost their
heads.  They said that the Prussians were taking possession of all the
boys of fifteen or sixteen to lead their horses or carry their bags.

Two soldiers of the line who passed about twelve were still carrying
their rifles; they were white with dust.  I called them in, through the
window, and gave them a glass of wine.  They belonged to the 18th, and
told us that their regiment no longer existed; that all their officers
were killed or wounded; that another regiment, I cannot remember which,
had fired upon them for a long time; that at last ammunition was
wanting; that at the fort of La Petite Pierre the garrison had refused
to receive them; and that the 5th army corps, commanded by General de
Failly, posted in the neighborhood of Bitche, might have come in time
to fall into position; and a good deal more besides.

These were brave men, whose hearts had not failed them.  They started
again in the direction of Phalsbourg, and we wished them good luck.

In the afternoon Marie Anne came to see us.  Her husband had started
for the town early, saying that nothing positive could be learned in
our place; that the soldiers saw nothing but their own little corner of
the battle-field, without troubling themselves about the rest, and that
he would learn exactly down there if we had any hope left.

George was to return for dinner; but at seven o'clock he was not home
yet.  His wife was uneasy.  Bad news kept coming in; peasants were
arriving from Neuwiller, who said that the Prussians were already
marching upon Saverne, and were making requisitions as they went.  The
peasants were flying to Dabo in the mountains; the women, through force
of habit, were telling their beads as they walked; whilst the men,
great consumers of eau-de-vie, were flourishing their sticks, and
looking in their rear with threatening gestures, which did not hinder
them from stepping out rapidly.

One of these men, whom I asked if he had seen the battle, told me that
the dead were heaped up in the fields like sacks of flour in my mill.
I think he was inventing that, or he had heard it from others.

Night was coming on, and Cousin Marie Anne was going home, when all at
once George came in.

"Is my wife here, Christian?" he asked.

"Yes; you will sup with us?"

"No; I have had something to eat down there.  But what sights I have
seen!  It is enough to drive one mad."

"And Jacob?" asked my wife.

"Jacob is learning drill.  He got a rifle the day before yesterday, and
to-morrow he will have to fight."

George sat down in the window-corner while we were at supper, and he
told us that on his arrival at Phalsbourg, about six in the morning,
the gate of France had just been opened, but that that of Germany,
facing Saverne, remained closed; that in that direction from the
outposts to Quatre Vents, nothing was to be seen but fugitives,
calling, and firing pistol-shots to get themselves admitted; that he
had had time to put up his horse and cart at the Ville de Bâle, and to
go upon the ramparts to witness this spectacle, when at the same
instant the drawbridge fell, and the crowd of Turcos, Zouaves,
foot-soldiers, officers, generals, all in a confused mass, had rushed
through the gate; in the whole number, he had seen but one flag,
surrounded by about sixty men of the 55th, commanded by a lieutenant;
the rest were mingled together, in hopeless confusion, the most part
without arms, and under no sort of discipline; they had lost all
respect for their chiefs.  It was a rout--a complete rout.

He had seen superior officers invaded at their own tables under the
tent of the Café Meyer, by private soldiers, and veterans throwing
themselves back in their chairs with elbows squared in the presence of
their officers, looking defiantly upon them, and shouting, "A bottle!"
The waiters came obsequiously to wait upon them for fear of a scene,
whilst the officers pretending to hear and see nothing, seemed to him
the worst thing he had seen yet.  Yet it was deserved; for these
officers--officers of rank--knew no more about the roads, paths,
streams and rivers of the country than their soldiers, who knew nothing
at all.  They did not even know the way from Phalsbourg to Sarrebourg
by the high-road, which a child of eight might know.

He had heard a staff-officer ask if Sarrebourg was an open town; he had
seen whole battalions halting upon that road, not knowing whether they
were right.

We should ourselves see these deplorable things next day, for our
retreating soldiers did nothing but turn and turn again ten times upon
the same roads, around the same mountains, and ended by returning to
the same spot again so tired, exhausted, and starved, that the
Prussians, if they had come, would only have had to pick them up at
their leisure.

Yet George had one moment's satisfaction in this melancholy
disorganization; it was to see, as he told us, those sixty men of the
56th halt in good order upon the _place_, and there rest their flag
against a tree.  The lieutenant who commanded them made them lie on the
ground, near their rifles, and almost immediately they fell asleep in
the midst of the seething crowd.  The young officer himself went
quietly to sit alone at a small table at the café.

"He," said my cousin, "had a map cut into squares, which he began to
study in detail.  It gave me pleasure to look at him; he reminded me of
our naval officers.  He knew something!  And whilst his men were
asleep, and his rescued flag was standing there, he watched, after all
this terrible defeat.  Colonels, commanders, were arriving depressed
and wearied; the lieutenant did not stir.  At last he folded up his map
and put it back into his pocket, then he went to lie down in the midst
of his men, and soon fell asleep too.  He," said my cousin, "_was_ an
officer!  As for the rest, I look upon them as the cause of our ruin:
they have never commanded, they have never learned.  There is no want
of able men in the artillery and engineers; but they are only there to
do their part: they command only their own arm, and are compelled to
obey superior orders, even when those orders have no sense in them."

One thing which made my cousin tremble with anger, was to learn that
the Emperor had the supreme command, and that nothing might be done
without taking his Majesty's instructions at headquarters: not a bridge
might be blown up, not a tunnel, before receiving his Majesty's
permission!

"What is the use of sending or receiving despatches?" said George.  "I
only hope our _honest man_ will be found to have given orders to blow
up the Archeviller tunnel, or the Prussians will overrun the whole of
France; they will convey their guns, their munitions of war, their
provisions, and their men by railway, whilst our poor soldiers will
drag along on foot and perish miserably!"

Listening to him our distress increased more and more.

He had seen in the place a few guns saved from capture, with their
horses fearfully mangled, and already so thin with overwork, that one
might have thought they had come from the farthest end of Russia.  And
all these men, coming and going, laid themselves down in a line under
the walls to sleep, at the risk of being run over a hundred times.

The doors and windows of all the houses were open; the soldiers might
be seen densely crowded in the side streets, the passages, the rooms,
the vestibules and yards, busily eating.  The townspeople gave them all
they had; the poorest shed tears that they had nothing to give, so many
poor wretches inspired pity; they were so commiserated that they had
been beaten.  In richer houses they were cooking from morning till
night; when one troop was satisfied another took their place.

George, relating these things, had his eyes filled with tears.

"Well, there are a good many kind people in the world yet," said he.
"Very soon those poor Phalsbourgers, when they are blockaded, will have
nothing to put into their own mouths; their six weeks' victuals are
already consumed, without mentioning their other provisions.  Compared
with these poor townspeople, we peasants are selfish monsters."

He fixed his eyes upon us, and we answered nothing.  I had already
driven our cows into the wood, with the flocks of the village.
Doubtless he knew of it!  But surely we must keep something to eat!
George was right; but one cannot help thinking of the morrow: those who
do not are sure to repent sooner or later.

Well, well--all the same, it was very fine of these townspeople; but
they have suffered heavily for it: during four months the officer in
command kept everything for his soldiers, and took away from the
inhabitants all that they had whether they were willing or not.

I do affirm these things.  People will take them for what they are
worth; but it is only the simple truth!  What afflicted us still more
was to hear what George had to tell us of the battle.

In the midst of that great crowd he had long sought for some one to
tell him all about it.  At last the sight of an old sergeant of
_chasseurs-à-pied_, thin and tough as whip-cord, his sleeve covered
with stripes, and with a bright eye, made him think: "There's my man!
I am sure he has had a clear insight into things; if he will talk to
me, I shall get at the bottom of the story."

So he had invited him into the inn, to take a glass of wine.  The
sergeant examined him for a moment, accepted, and they entered together
the Ville de Bâle at the end of the court, for all the rooms were full
of people; and there, eating a slice of ham and drinking a couple of
bottles of Lironcourt, the sergeant having his heart opened, and
receiving, moreover, a cent-sous piece, had declared that all our
misfortunes arose from two causes: first, that a height on the right
had not been occupied, whence the Germans had made their appearance
only about twelve o'clock, and from which they could not be dislodged
because they commanded the whole field of battle; and because their
artillery, more numerous and better than ours, searched us through and
through with shell and grape; their practice was so admirable that it
was no use falling back, or bearing to the right or the left: at the
first shot their balls fell into the midst of our ranks.  We have since
heard that the heights to which the sergeant referred were those of
Gunstedt.

He then told George that the 5th corps, commanded by De Failly, which
was expected from hour to hour, never appeared at all; that even if he
had come, we probably should not have won the battle, for the Germans
were three or four to one--but that we might have effected a retreat in
good order by Mederbronn upon Saverne.

This old sergeant was from the Nièvre; George has often spoken to me of
him since, and told me that, in his opinion, he knew much more than
many of MacMahon's officers; that he possessed good sense, and had a
clear perception of things.  George was of opinion that, with a little
training, many Frenchmen of the lower ranks would be found to possess
military genius, and that they might be confidently relied upon; but
that our love of dancing and plays had done us harm, since it was
supposed that good dancers and good actors would be able men: which
would be the cause of our ruin if we did not abandon such notions.

My cousin told me many other things that evening which have escaped my
memory; our terrible anxiety for the future prevented me from listening
properly.  But all the misfortunes in the world have not the power of
depriving a man of sleep; though for the last two days we had never
slept.  George and his wife went home about ten, and we went to bed.

Next day I had to celebrate the marriage of Chrétien Richi with his
first cousin Lisbette; notice had been given for a week, and when
invitations are sent out such things cannot be postponed.  I should
have liked to be carrying my hay and straw into the wood, for cattle
cannot live upon air; and as I was pressed, for time, I sent for
Placiard to take my place.  But he could nowhere be found; he had gone
into hiding like all the functionaries of the Empire, who are always
ready to receive their salaries and to denounce people in quiet times,
and very sharp in taking themselves off the moment they ought to be at
their posts.

At ten o'clock, then, I was obliged to put on my sash and go; the
wedding party were waiting, and I went up into the hall with them.  I
sat in the armchair, telling the bridegroom and bride to draw near,
which of course they did.

I was beginning to read the chapter on the duties of husband and wife,
when in a moment a great shouting arose outside: "The Prussians! the
Prussians!"  One of the groomsmen, with his bunch of roses, left;
Chrétien Richi turned round, the bride and the rest looked at the door;
and I stood there, all alone, stuck fast with the clerk, Adam Fix.  In
a moment the groomsman returned, crying out that the people of
Phalsbourg were making a sortie into the wood to lift our cattle; and
that they were coming too to search our houses.  Then I could have sent
all the wedding-party to Patagonia, when I fancied the position of my
wife and Grédel in such a predicament; but a mayor is obliged to keep
his dignity, and I cried out: "Do you want to be married?  Yes or no?"

They returned in a moment, and answered "Yes!"

"Well, you _are_ married!"

And I went out while the witnesses signed, and ran to the mill.

Happily this report of a sortie from Phalsbourg was false.  A gendarme
had just passed through the village, bearing orders from MacMahon, and
hence came all this alarm.

Nothing new happened until seven in the evening.  A few fugitives were
still gaining the town; but at nightfall began the passage of the 5th
army corps, commanded by General de Failly.

So, then, these thirty thousand men, instead of descending into Alsace
by Niederbronn, were now coming behind us by the road to Metz, on this
side of the mountains.  They were not even thinking of defending our
passes, but were taking flight into Lorraine!

Half our village had turned out, astonished to see this army moving in
a compact mass, upon Sarrebourg and Fénétrange.  Until then it had been
thought that a second battle would be fought at Saverne.  People had
been speaking of defending the Falberg, the Vachberg, and all the
narrow, rock-strewn passes; the roads through which might have been
broken up and defended with abatis, from which a few good shots might
have kept whole regiments in check; but the sight of these thousands of
men who were forsaking us without having fought--their guns, their
mitrailleuses, and the cavalry galloping and rolling in a cloud along
the highway, to get farther out of the enemy's reach--made our hearts
bleed.  Nobody could understand it.

Then a poor disabled soldier, lying on the grass, told me that they had
been ordered from Bitche to Niederbronn, from Niederbronn to Bitche,
and then from Bitche to Petersbach and Ottwiller, by dreadful roads,
and that now they could hold on no longer: they were all exhausted!
And in spite of myself, I thought that if men worn out to this degree
were obliged to fight against fresh troops continually reinforced, they
would be beaten before they could strike a blow!  Yes, indeed, the want
of knowledge of the country is one of the causes of our miseries.

Grédel, Catherine, and I, returned to the mill in the greatest distress.

It had at last begun to rain, after two months' drought.  It was a
heavy rain, which lasted all the night.

My wife and Grédel had gone to bed, but I could not close my eyes.  I
walked up and down in the mill, listening to this down-pour, the heavy
rumbling of the guns, the pattering of endless footsteps in the mud.
It was march, march--marching without a pause.

How melancholy! and how I pitied these unhappy soldiers, spent with
hunger and fatigue, and compelled to retreat thus.

Now and then I looked at them through the window-panes, down which the
rain was streaming.  They were marching on foot, on horseback, one by
one, by companies, in troops, like shadows.  And every time that I
opened the window to let in fresh air, in the midst of this vast
trampling of feet, those neighings, and sometimes the curses of the
soldiers of the artillery-train, or the horseman whose horse had
dropped from fatigue or refused to move farther, I could hear in the
far distance, across the plain two or three leagues from us, the
whistle of the trains still coming and going in the passes.

Then noticing upon the wall one of those maps of the theatre of war
which the Government had sent us three weeks ago, and which extended
from Alsace as far as Poland, I tore it down, crumpled it up in my
hand, and flung it out.  Everything came back to me full of disgust.
Those maps, those fine maps, were part of the play; just like the
conspiracies devised by the police, and the explanations of the
sous-préfets to make us vote "Yes" in the Plébiscite.  Oh, you
play-actors! you gang of swindlers!  Have you done enough yet to lead
astray your imbecile people?  Have you made them miserable enough with
your ill-contrived plays?

And it is said that the whole affair is going to be played over again:
that they mean to put a ring through our noses to lead us along; that
many rogues are reckoning upon it to settle their little affairs, to
slip back into their old shoes and get fat again by slow degrees,
humping their backs just like our curé's cat when she has found her
saucer again after having taken a turn in the woods or the garden: it
is possible, indeed!  But then France will be an object of contempt;
and if those fellows succeed, she will be worse than contemptible, and
honorable men will blush to be called Frenchmen!

At daybreak I went to raise the mill-dam, for this heavy rain had
overflowed the sluice.  The last stragglers were passing.  As I was
looking up the village, my neighbor Ritter, the publican, was coming
out from under the cart-shed with his lantern; a stranger was following
him--a young man in a gray overcoat, tight trousers, a kind of leather
portfolio hanging at his side, a small felt hat turned up over his
ears, and a red ribbon at his button-hole.

This I concluded was a Parisian; for all the Parisians are alike, just
as the English are: you may tell them among a thousand.

I looked and listened.

"So," said this man, "you have no horse?"

"No, sir; all our beasts are in the wood, and at such a time as this we
cannot leave the village."

"But twenty francs are pretty good pay for four or five hours."

"Yes, at ordinary times; but not now."

Then I advanced, asking: "Monsieur offers twenty francs to go what
distance?"

"To Sarrebourg," said the stranger, astonished to see me.

"If you will say thirty, I will undertake to convey you there.  I am a
miller; I always want my horses; there are no others in the village."

"Well, do; put in your horses."

These thirty francs for eight leagues had flashed upon me.  My wife had
just come down into the kitchen, and I told her of it; she thought I
was doing right.

Having then eaten a mouthful, with a glass of wine, I went out to
harness my horses to my light cart.  The Parisian was already there
waiting for me, his leather portmanteau in his hand.  I threw into the
cart a bundle of straw; he sat down near me, and we went off at a trot.

This stranger seeing my dappled grays galloping through the mud, seemed
pleased.  First he asked me the news of our part of the country, which
I told him from the beginning.  Then in his turn he began to tell me a
good deal that was not yet known by us.  He composed gazettes; he was
one of those who followed the Emperor to record his victories.  He was
coming from Metz, and told me that General Frossard had just lost a
great battle at Forbach, through his own fault in not being in the
field while his troops were fighting, but being engaged at billiards
instead.

You may be sure I felt that to be impossible; it would be too
abominable; but the Parisian said so it was, and so have many repeated
since.

"So that the Prussians," said he, "broke through us, and I have had to
lose a horse to get out of the confusion: the Uhlans were pursuing;
they followed nearly to a place called Droulingen."

"That is only four leagues from this place," said I.  "Are they already
there?"

"Yes; but they fell back immediately to rejoin the main body, which is
advancing upon Toul.  I had hoped to recover lost ground by telling of
our victories in Alsace; unfortunately at Droulingen, the sad news of
Reichshoffen,* and the alarm of the flying inhabitants, have informed
me that we are driven in along our whole line; there is no doubt these
Prussians are strong; they are very strong.  But the Emperor will
arrange all that with Bismarck!"


* Called generally by us, the Battle of Woerth.


Then he told me there was an understanding between the Emperor and
Bismarck; that the Prussians would take Alsace; that they would give us
Belgium in exchange; that we should pay the expenses of the war, and
then things would all return into their old routine.

"His Majesty is indisposed," said he, "and has need of rest; we shall
soon have Napoleon IV., with the regency of her Majesty the Empress,
the French are fond of change."

Thus spoke this newspaper-writer, who had been decorated, who can tell
why?  He thought of nothing but of getting safe into Sarrebourg, to
catch the train, and send a letter to his paper; nothing else mattered
to him.  It is well that I had taken a pair of horses, for it went on
raining.  Suddenly we came upon the rear of De Failly's army; his guns,
powder-wagons, and his regiments so crowded the road, that I had to
take to the fields, my wheels sinking in up to the axle-trees.

Nearing Sarrebourg, we saw also on our left the rear of the other
routed army, the Turcos, the Zouaves, the chasseurs, the long trains of
MacMahon's guns; so that we were between the two fugitive routs: De
Failly's troops, by their disorder, looked just as if they had been
defeated, like the other army.  All the people who have seen this in
our country can confirm my account, though it seems incredible.

At last, I arrived at the Sarrebourg station, when the Parisian paid me
thirty francs, which my horses had fairly earned.  The families of all
the railway _employés_ were just getting into the train for Paris; and
you may be sure that this Government newspaper-writer was delighted to
find himself there.  He had his free pass: but for that the unlucky man
would have had to stay against his will; like many others who at the
present time are boasting loudly of having made a firm stand, waiting
for the enemy.

I quickly started home again by cross-roads, and about twelve I reached
Rothalp.  The artillery was thundering amongst the mountains; crowds of
people were climbing and running down the little hill near the church
to listen to the distant roar.  Cousin George was calmly smoking his
pipe at the window, looking at all these people coming and going.

"What is going on?" said I, stopping my cart before his door.

"Nothing," said he; "only the Prussians attacking the little fort of
Lichtenberg.  But where are you coming from?"

"From Sarrebourg."

And I related to him in a few words what the Parisian had told me.

"Ah! now it is all plain," said he.  "I could not understand why the
5th corps was filing off into Lorraine, without making one day's stand
in our mountains, which are so easily defended: it did really seem too
cowardly.  But now that Frossard is beaten at Forbach, the thing is
explained: our flank is turned.  De Failly is afraid of being taken
between two victorious armies.  He has only to gain ground, for the
cattle-dealer David has just told me that he has seen Uhlans behind
Fénétrange.  The line of the Vosges is surrendered; and we owe this
misfortune to Monsieur Frossard, tutor to the Prince Imperial!"

The school-master, Adam Fix, was then coming down from the hill with
his wife, and cried that a battle was going on near Bitche.  He did not
stop, on account of the rain.  George told me to listen a few minutes.
We could hear deep and distant reports of heavy guns, and others not so
loud.

"Those heavy reports," said George, "come from the great siege-guns of
the fort; the others are the enemy's lighter artillery.  At this
moment, the German army, at six leagues from us, victorious in Alsace,
is on the road from Woerth to Siewettler, to unite with the army that
is moving on Metz; it is defiling past the guns of the fort.  To-morrow
we shall see their advanced guard march past us.  It is a melancholy
story, to be defeated through the fault of an imbecile and his
courtiers; but we must always remember, as a small consolation, to
every man his turn."  He began again to smoke, and I went on my way
home, where I put up my horses.  I had earned my thirty francs in six
hours; but this did not give me complete satisfaction.  My wife and
Grédel were also on the hill listening to the firing; half the village
were up there; and all at once I saw Placiard, who could not be found
the day before, jumping through the gardens, puffing and panting for
breath.

"You hear, Monsieur le Maire," he cried--"you hear the battle?  It is
King Victor Emmanuel coming to our help with a hundred and fifty
thousand men!"

At this I could no longer contain myself, and I cried, "Monsieur
Placiard, if you take me for a fool, you are quite mistaken; and if you
are one, you had better hold your tongue.  It is no use any longer
telling these poor people false news, as you have been doing for
eighteen years, to keep up their hopes to the last moment.  This will
never more bring tobacco-excise to you, and stamp-offices to your sons.
The time for play-acting is over.  You are telling me this through love
of lying; but I have had enough of all these abominable tricks; I now
see things clearly.  We have been plundered from end to end by fellows
of your sort, and now we are going to pay for you, without having had
any benefit ourselves.  If the Prussians become our masters, if they
bestow places and salaries, you will be their best friend; you will
denounce the patriots in the commune, and you will have them to vote
plébiscites for Bismarck!  What does it matter to you whether you are a
Frenchman or a German?  Your true lord, your true king, your true
emperor, is the man who pays!"

As fast as I spoke my wrath increased, and all at once I shouted:
"Wait, Monsieur l'Adjoint, wait till I come out; I will pay you off for
the Emperor, for his Ministers, and all the infamous crew of your sort
who have brought the Prussians into France!"  But I had scarcely
reached the door, when he had already turned the corner.




CHAPTER VII

On that day we had yet more alarms.

Between one and two o'clock, standing before my mill, I fancied I could
hear a drum beating up the valley.  All the village was lamenting, and
crying, "Here are the Prussians!"

All along the street, people were coming out, gazing, listening; boys
ran into the woods, mothers screamed.  A few men more fearful than the
rest went off too, each with a loaf under his arm; women, raised their
hands to Heaven, calling them back and declaring they would go with
them.  And whilst I was gazing upon this sad spectacle, suddenly two
carts came up, full gallop, from the valley of Graufthal.

It was the noise of these two vehicles that I had mistaken for drums
approaching.  A week later I should not have made this mistake, for the
Germans steal along like wolves: there is no drumming or bugling, as
with us; and you have twenty thousand men on your hands before you know
it.

The people riding in the carts were crying, "The Prussians are at the
back of the saw-mills!"

They could be heard afar off; especially the women, who were raising
themselves in the cart, throwing up their hands.

At a hundred yards from the mill the cart stopped, and recognizing
Father Diemer, municipal councillor, who was driving, I cried to him,
"Hallo, Diemer! pull up a moment.  What is going on down there?"

"The Prussians are coming, Monsieur le Maire," he said.

"Oh, well, well, if they must come sooner or later, what does it
signify?  Do come down."

He came down, and told me that he had been that morning to the
forest-house of Domenthal in his conveyance, to fetch away his wife and
daughter who had been staying there with relations for a few days; and
that on his way back he had seen in a little valley, the Fischbachel,
Prussian infantry, their arms stacked, resting on the edge of the wood,
making themselves at home; which had made him gallop away in a hurry.

That was what he had seen.

Then other men came up, woodmen, who said that they were some of our
own light infantry, and that Diemer had made a mistake; then more
arrived, declaring that they _were_ Prussians; and so it went on till
night.

About seven o'clock I saw an old French soldier, the last who came
through our village; his leg was bandaged with a handkerchief, and he
sat upon the bench before my house asking me for a piece of bread and a
glass of water, for the love of God!  I went directly and told Grédel
to fetch him bread and wine.  She poured out the wine herself for this
poor fellow, who was suffering great pain.  He had a ball in his leg;
and, in truth, the wound smelt badly, for he had not been able to dress
it, and he had dragged himself through the woods from Woerth.

He had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours, and told us that the
colonel of his regiment had fallen, crying, "Friends, you are badly
commanded!  Cease to obey your generals!"

He only rested for a few minutes, not to let his leg grow stiff, and
went on his weary way to Phalsbourg.

He was the last French soldier that I saw after the battle of
Reichshoffen.

At night we were told that the peasants of Graufthal had found a gun
stuck fast in the valley; and two hours later, whilst we were supping,
our neighbor Katel came in pale as death, crying, "The Prussians are at
your door!"

Then I went out.  Ten or fifteen Uhlans were standing there smoking
their short wooden pipes, and watering their horses at the mill-stream.

Imagine my surprise, especially when one of these Uhlans began to greet
me in bad Prussian-German: "Oho! good-evening, Monsieur le Maire!  I
hope you have been pretty well, Monsieur le Maire, since I last had not
the pleasure of seeing you?"

He was the officer of the troop.  My wife, and Grédel, too, were
looking from the door.  As I made no answer, he said, "And Mademoiselle
Grédel! here you are, as fresh and as happy as ever.  I suppose you
still sing morning and evening, while you are washing up?"

Then Grédel, who has good eyes, cried, "It is that great knave who came
to take views in our country last year with his little box on four long
legs!"

And, even in the dusk, I could recognize one of those German
photographers who had been travelling about the mountains a few months
before, taking the likenesses of all our village folks.  This man's
name was Otto Krell; he was tall, pale, and thin, his nose was like a
razor back, and he had a way of winking with his left eye while paying
you compliments.  Ah! the scoundrel! it was he, indeed, and now he was
an Uhlan officer: when Grédel had spoken, I recognized him perfectly.

"Exactly so, Mademoiselle Grédel," said he, from his tall horse.  "It
is I myself.  You would have made a good gendarme; you would have known
a rogue from an honest man in a moment."

He burst out laughing, and Grédel said, "Speak in a language I can
understand; I cannot make out your patois."

"But you understand very well the patois of Monsieur Jean Baptiste
Werner," answered this gallows-bird, making a grimace.  "How is good
Monsieur Jean Baptiste?  Is he in as good spirits as ever?  Have you
still got your little likeness of him, you know, close to your
heart--that young gentleman, I mean, that I had to take three times,
because he never came out handsome enough?"

Then Grédel, ashamed, ran into the house, and my wife took refuge in
her room.

Then he said to me, "I am glad to see you, Monsieur le Maire, in such
excellent health.  I came to you, first of all, to wish you
good-morning; but then, I must acknowledge, my visit has another
object."

And as I still answered nothing, being too full of indignation, he
asked me:

"Have you still got those nice Swiss cows? splendid animals? and the
twenty-five sheep you had last year?"

I understood in a moment what he was driving at, and I cried: "We have
nothing at all; there is nothing in this village; we are all ruined; we
cannot furnish you a single thing."

"Oh! come now, please don't be angry, Monsieur Weber.  I took your
likeness, with your scarlet waistcoat and your great square-cut coat; I
know you very well, indeed! you are a fine fellow!  I have orders to
inform you that to-morrow morning 15,000 men will call here for
refreshments; that they are fond of good beef and mutton, and not above
enjoying good white bread, and wine of Alsace, also vegetables, and
coffee, and French cigars.  On this paper you will find a list of what
they want.  So you had better make the necessary arrangements to
satisfy them; or else, Monsieur le Maire, they will help themselves to
your cows, even if they have to go and look for them in the woods of
the Biechelberg, where you have sent them; they will help themselves to
your sacks of flour, and your wine, that nice, light wine of Rikevir;
they will take everything, and then they will burn down your house.
Take my advice, welcome them as German brothers, coming to deliver you
from French bondage: for you are Germans, Monsieur Weber, in this part
of the country.  Therefore prepare this requisition yourself.  If you
want a thing done well, do it yourself; you will find this plan most
advantageous.  It is out of friendship to you, as a German brother, and
in return for the good dinner you gave me last year that I say this.
And now, good-night."

He turned round to his men, and all together filed off in the darkness,
going up by the left toward Berlingen.

Then, without even going into my own house, I ran to my cousin's, to
tell him what had happened.  He was going to bed.

"Well, what is the matter?" said he.

Completely upset, I told him the visit I had had from these robbers,
and what demands they had made.  My cousin and his wife listened
attentively; then George, after a minute's thought, said: "Christian,
force is force!  If 15,000 men are to pass here, it means that 15,000
will pass by Metting, 15,000 by Quatre Vents, 15,000 by Lützelbourg,
and so forth.  We are invaded; Phalsbourg will be blockaded, and if we
stir, we shall be knocked on the head without notice before we can
count ten.  What would you have?  It's war!  Those who lose must pay
the bill.  The good men who have been plundering us for eighteen years
have lost for us, and we are going to pay for them; that is plain
enough.  Only, if we make grimaces while we pay, they ask more; and if
we go to work without much grumbling, they will shave us not quite so
close: they will pretend to treat us with consideration and indulgence;
they won't rob quite so roughly; they will be a little more gentle, and
strip you with more civility.  I have seen that in my campaigns.  Here
is the advice which I give, for your own and everybody else's interest.
First of all, this very evening, you must send for your cows from the
Biechelberg; you will tell David Hertz to drive the two best to his
slaughter-house; and when the Prussians come and they have seen these
two fine animals, David will kill them before their eyes.  He will
distribute the pieces under the orders of the commanders.  That will
just make broth in the morning for the 15,000 men, and if that is not
enough, send for my best cow.  All the village will be pleased, and
they will say, 'The mayor and his cousin are sacrificing themselves for
the commune.'

"That will be a very good beginning; but then as we shall have begun
with ourselves, and nobody can make any objection after that, you had
better put an ox of Placiard's under requisition, then a cow of Jean
Adam's, then another of Father Diemer's, and so on, in proportion to
their wants; and that will go on till the end of the cows, the oxen,
the pigs, the sheep and the goats.  And you must do the same with the
bread, the flour, the vegetables, the wine; always beginning at you and
me.  It is sad; it is a great trouble; but his Majesty the Emperor, his
Ministers, his relations, his friends and acquaintances have gambled
away our hay, our straw, our cattle, our money, our meadows, our
houses, our sons, and ourselves, pretending all the while to consult
us; they have lost like fools: they never kept their eye on the game,
because their own little provision was already laid by, somewhere in
Switzerland, in Italy, in England, or elsewhere; and they risked
nothing but that vast flock which they were always accustomed to shear,
and which they call the people.  Well, my poor Christian, that flock is
ourselves--we peasants!  If I were younger; if I could make forced
marches as I did at thirty, I should join the army and fight; but in
the present state of things, all I can do is, like you, to bow down my
back, with a heart full of wrath, until the nation has more sense, and
appoints other chiefs to command."

The advice of George met with my approbation, and I sent the herdsmen
to fetch my cows at the Biechelberg.  I told him, besides, to give
notice to the principal inhabitants that if they did not bring back
their beasts to the village, the Prussians would go themselves and
fetch them, because they knew the country roads better than ourselves;
and that they would put into the pot first of all the cattle of those
who did not come forward willingly.

My wife and Grédel were standing by as I gave this order to Martin
Kopp: they exclaimed against it, saying that I was losing my senses;
but I had more sense than they had, and I followed the advice of
George, who had never misled me.

It was on the night of the 9th to the 10th of August that the small
fortress of Lichtenberg, defended by a few veterans without ammunition,
opened its gates to the Prussians; that MacMahon left Sarrebourg with
the remainder of his forces, without blowing up the tunnel at
Archeviller, because his Majesty's orders had not arrived; that the
Germans, concentrated at Saverne, after extending right and left from
Phalsbourg, sent first their Uhlans by the valley of Lützelbourg to
inspect the railway, supposing that it would be blown up, then sent an
engine through the tunnel, then ventured a train laden with stones, and
were much astonished to find it arriving in Lorraine without
difficulty; that MacMahon made his retreat on foot, whilst they
advanced on trucks and carriages: and that they were able to send on
their guns, their stores, their provisions, their horses and their men
toward Paris; maintaining their troops by exhausting the provisions of
Alsace and the other side of the Vosges.  These things we learned
afterward.

That same night the Prussians put their first guns into battery at the
Quatre Vents to bombard the town, whilst they went completely round to
the other side, by the fine road over the Falberg, which seemed to have
been constructed through the forest expressly for their convenience.

They lost no time, examined and inspected everything, and found
everything in perfect order to suit their convenience.

That night passed away quietly; they had too many things to look after
to trouble themselves about our little village hidden in the woods,
knowing well that we could neither run away nor defend ourselves; for
all our young men were in the town, and we were unarmed and without any
material of war.  They left us to be gobbled up whenever they liked.

Many have asserted, and still believe, that we have been delivered up
to the Germans in exchange for Belgium; because Alsace, according to
the Emperor, was a German and Lutheran country, and Belgium, French and
Catholic.  But Cousin George has always said that these conjectures
were erroneous, and that our misfortunes arose entirely from the
thievishness of the Government; and chiefly of those who, under color
of upholding the dynasty, were making a good bag, granted themselves
pensions, enriched themselves by sweeping strokes of cunning, and
became great men at a cheap rate: and also from the folly of the
people, who were kept steeped in ignorance, to make them praise the
tricks and the robberies of the rest.

My opinion is the same.

It was the cupidity of some in depriving the country of a powerful and
numerous army, able to defend us; whilst, on the other hand, they
deprived what army there was of provisions, arms, and munitions of war:
surely this was enough!  There is no need to go further to seek for the
causes of our shame and our miseries.

Therefore our cattle returned from the Biechelberg in obedience to my
orders; and my two best cows waited in the stable, eating a few
handfuls of hay, until the first requisition of the Prussians should
arrive.

The village people who saw this highly approved of my conduct, never
imagining that their turn would come so soon.

Time passed away, and it was supposed that this quiet might last a good
while, when a squadron of Prussian lancers, and, a little farther on, a
squadron of hussars, appeared at the bottom of our valley.

For an advanced guard they had a few Uhlans--an order which we have
since noticed they observed constantly; three hundred paces to the
front rode two horsemen, each with a pistol in his hand resting on the
thigh, and who halted from time to time to question people, threatening
to kill them if they did not give plain answers to their questions; and
behind them came the main body, always at the same distance.

We, standing under our projecting eaves, or leaning out of our windows,
men, women, and children, gazed upon the men who were coming to devour
us, to ruin us, and strip the very flesh off our bones.  It was, as it
were, the Plébiscite advancing upon us under our own eyes, armed with
pistol and sword, the guns and the bayonets behind.

First, the cavalry extended from the hill at Berlingen to the
Graufthal, to Wéchem, to Mittelbronn, and farther still; then marched
up several regiments of infantry, their black and white standards
flying.

We were watching all this without stirring.  The officers, in spiked
helmets, were galloping to and fro, carrying orders; the curé Daniel,
in his presbytery, had lifted his little white blinds, and our neighbor
Katel exclaimed, "Dear, dear, one would never have thought there could
be so many heretics in the world."

This is exactly the state of ignorance that had been kept up amongst us
from generation to generation: making people believe that there was
nobody in the universe besides themselves; that we were a thousand to
one, and that our religion was universal.  Pure and simple folly,
upheld by lies!

It was a great help to us to have such grand notions about ourselves!
It made us feel enormously strong!

But hypocrites can always get out of their scrapes: they vanish in the
distance with well-lined pockets, and their victims are left behind
sticking in the mud up to the chin!

Since our reverend fathers the Jesuits have so many spies posted about
in the world, they should have told us how strong the heretics were,
and not suffered us to believe until the last that we were the only
masters of the earth.  But they considered: "These French fools will
allow themselves to be hacked down to the very last man for our honor;
they will drive back the Lutherans; and then we shall make a great
figure: the Holy Father will be infallible, and we shall rule under his
name."

These things are so evident now, that one is almost ashamed to mention
them.

As soon as the cavalry were posted on the heights of the place, at the
rear of the hills, the infantry regiments, standing with ordered arms,
began to march off.

I could hear from my door the loud voices of the officers, the neighing
of the horses, and the departure of the battalions, which filed off,
keeping step in admirable order.  Ah! if our officers had been as
highly trained, and our soldiers as firmly disciplined as the Germans,
Alsace and Lorraine would still have been French.

I may be told that a good patriot ought to refrain from saying such
things; but what is the use of hiding facts?  Would hiding them prevent
them from being true?  I say these things on purpose to open people's
eyes.  If we want to recover what we have lost, everything must be
changed; our officers must be educated, our soldiers disciplined, our
contractors must supply stores, clothing, and provisions without
blunders and deficiencies, or if they fail they must be shot; the life
of a brave and generous nation is better worth than that of a knave,
whose ignorance, laziness, or cupidity may cause the loss of provinces.

We must have a large, national army, like that of the Germans, and, to
possess this army, every man must serve; the cripples and deformed in
offices; every man besides, in the ranks.  Full permission must be
given to wear spectacles, which do not hinder a man from fighting; and
citizens, as well as workmen and peasants, must come under fire.
Unless we do this, we shall be beaten--beaten again, and utterly ruined!

And above all, as Cousin George said, we must place at the head of
affairs a man with a cool head, a warm heart, and great experience; in
whose eyes the honor of the nation shall be above his own interest, and
on whose word all men may rely, because he has already proved that his
confidence in himself will not desert him, even in the most perilous
times.

But we are yet very far from this; and one would really believe, in
looking at the conceited countenances of the fugitives who are
returning from England, Belgium, Switzerland, and farther yet, that
they have won important victories, and that the country does them
injustice in not hailing them as deliverers.

And now I will quietly pursue this history of our village; whoever
wants to come round me again with hypocritical pretences of honesty,
will have to get up very early in the morning indeed.

After the Germans had posted their infantry within the squares formed
by the cavalry, they dragged guns and ammunition up the height of
Wéchem, in the rear of our hills.  Then the thoughts of Jacob, and all
our poor lads, whom they were going to shell, came upon us, and mother
began to cry bitterly.  Grédel, too, thinking of her Jean Baptiste, had
become furious; if, by misfortune, we had had a gun in the house, she
would have been quite capable of firing upon the Prussians, and so
getting us all exterminated; she ran upstairs and downstairs, put her
head out at the window, and a German having raised his head, saying,
"Oh! what a pretty girl!" she shouted, "Be sure always to come out ten
against one, or it will be all up with you!"

I was downstairs, and you may imagine my alarm.  I went up to beg her
to be quiet, if she did not want the whole village to be destroyed; but
she answered rudely, "I don't care--let them burn us all out!  I wish I
was in the town, and not with all these thieves."

I went down quickly, not to hear more.

The rain had begun to fall again, and these Prussians kept pouring in,
by regiments, by squadrons: more than forty thousand men covered the
plain; some formed in the fields, in the meadows, trampling down the
second crop of grass and the potatoes--all our hopes were there under
their feet! others went on their way; their wheels sunk into the clay,
but they had such excellent horses that all went on under the lashes of
their long whips, as the Germans use them.  They climbed up all the
slopes; the hedges and young trees were bent and broken everywhere.

When might is right, and you feel yourself the weakest, silence is
wisdom.

The report ran that they were going to attack Phalsbourg in the
afternoon; and our poor Mobiles, and our sixty artillery recruits
pressed to serve the guns, were about to have a dreadful storm falling
upon them, as a beginning to their experience.  Those heaps of shells
they were hurrying up to Wéchem forced from us all cries of "Poor town!
poor townspeople! poor women! poor children!"

The rain increased, and the river overflowed its banks down all the
valley from Graufthal to Metting.  A few officers were walking down the
street to look for shelter; I saw a good number go into Cousin
George's, principally hussars, and at the same moment a gentleman in a
round hat, black cloak and trousers, stepped before the mill and asked
me: "Monsieur le Maire?"

"I am the mayor."

"Very good.  I am the army chaplain, and I am come to lodge with you."

I thought that better than having ten or fifteen scoundrels in my
house; but he had scarcely closed his lips when another came, an
officer of light horse, who cried: "His highness has chosen this house
to lodge in."

Very good--what could I reply?

A brigadier, who was following this officer, springs off his horse,
goes under the shed, and peeps into the stable.  "Turn out all that,"
said he.

"Turn out my horses, my cattle?" I exclaimed.

"Yes--and quickly too.  His highness has twelve horses: he must have
room."

I was going to answer, but the officer began to swear and storm so
loudly, without listening to anything I could plead, shouting at me
that every one of my beasts would be driven to be slaughtered
immediately if I made any difficulty, that without saying another word,
I drove them all out, my heart swelling, and my head bowed with
despair.  Grédel, watching from her window, saw this, and coming down,
red with anger, said to the officer: "You must be a great coward to
behave so roughly to an old man who cannot defend himself."

My hair stood on end with horror; but the officer vouchsafed not a
word, and went off instantly.

Then the chaplain whispered in my ear: "You are going to have the honor
of entertaining Monseigneur, the reigning Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, and
you must call him 'Your highness.'"

I thought with myself: "You, and your highness, and all the highnesses
in the world, I wish you were all of you five hundred thousand feet in
the bowels of the earth.  You are a bad lot.  You came into the world
for the misery of mankind.  Thieves! rogues!"

I only thought these things: I would not have said them for the world.
Several persons had been shot in our mountains the last two
days--fathers of families--and the remembrance of these things makes
one prudent.

As I was reflecting upon our misfortunes, his highness arrived, with
his aides-de-camp and his servants.  They alighted, entered the house,
hung up their wet clothes against the wall, and filled the kitchen.  My
wife ran upstairs, I stood in a corner behind the stove: we had nothing
left to call our own.

This Duke of Saxe was so tall that he could scarcely walk upright under
my roof.  He was a handsome man, covered with gold-lace ornaments; and
so were the two great villains who followed him--Colonel Egloffstein
and Major Baron d'Engel.  Yes, I could find no fault with them on
account of their height or their appetites; nor did they seem to mind
us in the least.  They laughed, they chatted, they swung themselves
round in my room, jingling their swords on the stone floor, on the
stairs, everywhere, without paying the smallest attention to me--I
seemed to be in _their_ house.

From their arrival until their departure, the fire never once went out
in my kitchen; my wood blazed; my pans and kettles, my roasting-jack,
went on with their business; they twisted the necks of my fowls, my
ducks, my geese, plucked them, and roasted them: they fetched splendid
pieces of beef, which they minced to make rissoles, and sliced to make
what they called "biftecks"; then they opened my drawers and cupboards,
spread my tablecloths on my table, rinsed out my glasses and my
bottles, and fetched my wine out of my cellar.

They waited upon his highness and his officers; the doors and windows
stood open, the rain poured in; orderlies came on horseback to receive
orders, and darted away; and about five o'clock the guns began to
thunder and roar at Quatre Vents.  The bombardment was beginning in
that direction; the two bastions of the arsenal and the bakery answered.

That was the bombardment of the 11th, in which Thibaut's house was
delivered to the flames.  It would be long before we should see the
last of it; but as we had never before heard the like, and these
rolling thunders filled our valley between the woods and the rocks of
Biechelberg, we trembled.

Grédel, every time that our heavy guns replied, said: "Those are ours;
we are not all dead yet!  Do you hear that?"

I pushed her out, and his highness asked, "What is that?"

"Nothing," said I; "it is only my daughter: she is crazy."

About a quarter to seven the firing ceased.

The Baron d'Engel, who had gone out a few minutes before, came back to
say that a flag of truce had gone to summon the place to surrender; and
that on its refusal the bombardment would re-open at once.

There was a short silence.  His highness was eating.

Suddenly entered a colonel of hussars--a hideous being, with a
retreating forehead, a squint in his eye, and red hair--decorated all
over with ribbons and crosses, like a North American Indian.  He walks
in.  Salutations, hand-shaking all round, and a good deal of laughing.
They seat themselves again, they devour--they swallow everything!  And
that hussar begins telling that he has taken MacMahon's tent--a
magnificent tent, with mirrors, china, ladies' hats and crinolines.  He
laughed, grinning up to his ears; and his highness was highly
delighted, saying that MacMahon would have given a representation of
his victory to the great ladies of Paris.

Of course this was an abominable lie; but the Prussians are not afraid
of lying.

That hussar--whose name I cannot remember, although I have often heard
it from others--said besides, that, after having ridden a couple of
hours through the forest of Elsashausen, he had fallen upon the village
of Gundershoffen, where a few companies of French infantry had
established themselves, and that he had surprised and massacred them
all to the last man, without the loss of a single horseman!

Then he began to laugh again, saying that in war you often might have
an agreeable time of it, and that this would be among his most cheerful
reminiscences.

Hearing him from my seat behind the stove, I said: "And are these men
called Christians?  Why, they are worse than wolves!  They would drink
human blood out of skulls, and boast of it!"

They went on talking in this fashion, when a very young officer came to
say that the defenders of Phalsbourg refused to surrender, and that
they were going to shell the town, to set fire to it.

I could listen no longer.  Grédel and my wife went to shut themselves
in upstairs, and I went out to breathe a different air from these wild
monsters.

It was raining still.  I wanted fresh air--I should have liked to throw
myself into the river with all my clothes on.

Fresh regiments were passing.  Now it was white cuirassiers; they
extended along the meadows below Metting; other regiments in dense
masses advanced on Sarrebourg.  Down there the bayonets and the helmets
sparkled and glistened in the setting sun, in spite of the torrents of
rain.  It was easy to see that our unfortunate army of two hundred
thousand men could not resist such a deluge.

But the three hundred thousand other soldiers that we should have had,
and which we had been paying for the last eighteen years, where then
were they?  They were in the reports presented by the Ministers of War
to the Legislative Assembly; and the money which should have paid for
their complete equipment and their armament, that was in London, put
down to his Majesty's account: the _honest man_, he had laid up savings.

All these Germans, encamped as far as the eye could see under the rain,
were beginning to cut down our fruit-trees to warm themselves; in all
directions our beautiful apple-trees, our pear-trees, still laden with
fruit, came to the ground; then they were stripped bare, chopped to
pieces, and burnt with the sap in them: the falling rain did not
prevent the wood from lighting, on account of the quantity underneath
which the fire dried at last.

The whole plain and the table-land above were in a blaze with these
fires.

What a loss for the country!

It had taken fifty-six years, since 1814, to grow these trees; they
were in full bearing; for fifty years our children and grand-children
will not see their equals around our village; the whole are destroyed!
With this spectacle before my eyes, indignation stifled my voice; I
turned my eyes away, and went to Cousin George's, hoping to hear there
a few words of encouragement.

I was right; the house was full; Cousin Marie Anne, a bold and
unceremonious woman, was busy cooking for all her lodgers.  Amongst the
number were two of her old customers at the Rue Mouffetard; a Jew, who
had come to Paris to learn gardening at the Jardin des Plantes, and a
saddler, both seated near the hearth with an appearance of shame and
melancholy in their countenances.  The soldiers, who were crowding even
the passage, smoked, and examined now and then to see if the meat and
potatoes looked promising in the big copper in the washhouse: there was
no other in the house large enough to boil such a large quantity of
provisions.

Every soldier had an enormous slice of beef, a loaf, a portion of wine,
and even some ground coffee; some had under their arms a rope of
onions, turnips, a head of cabbage, stolen right and left.  These were
the hussars.

In the large parlor were the officers, who had just returned in
succession from their reconnaissances; as they went up into the room,
you could hear the clanking of their swords and their huge boots making
the staircase shake.

As I was coming in by the back door, not having been able to make way
through the passage, George was coming out of the room; he saw me above
the helmets of all these people, and cried to me: "Christian! stay
outside; I am stifled here!  I am coming!"

Room was made for him, and we went down together into the garden, under
the shelter of his stack of wood.  Then he lighted a pipe, and asked
me: "Well, how are you going on down there?"

I told him all.

"I," said he, "have already had to receive the colonel of the hussars
last night.  An hour after the visit of the Uhlans, there is a tap on
the shutters; I open.  Two squadrons of hussars were standing there,
round the house; there was no way of escape."

"'Open!'

"I obey.  The colonel, a sort of a wolf, whom I saw just now going to
your house, enters the first, pistol in hand; he examines all round:
'You are alone?'

"'Yes; with my wife.'

"'Very well!'

"Then he went into the passage, and called an aide-de-camp.  Three or
four soldiers came in; they carry chairs and a table into the kitchen.
The colonel unfolds a large map upon the floor; he takes off his boots,
and lays himself upon it.  Then he calls: 'Such a one, are you here?'

"'Present, colonel.'

"Then six or seven captains and lieutenants enter.

"'Such an one, do you see the road to Metting!'

"They had all taken small maps out of their pockets.

"'Yes, colonel.'

"'And from Metting to Sarrebourg?'

"'Yes, colonel.'

"'Tell me the names.'

"And the officer named the villages, the farms, the streams, the
rivers, the clumps of wood, the curves in the road, and even the
intersection of footpaths.

"The colonel followed with his nail.

"'That will do!  Now go and take twenty men and push on as far as St.
Jean, by such a road.  You will see!  In case of resistance, you will
inform me.  Come, sharp!'

"And the officer goes off.

"The colonel, still lying upon his map, calls another.

"'Present, colonel.'

"'You see Lixheim?'

"'Yes, colonel.'

"And so on.

"In half an hour's time, he had sent off a whole squadron on
reconnaissances to Sarrebourg, Lixheim, Diemeringen, Lützelbourg,
Fénétrange, everywhere in that direction.  And when they had all
started, except twenty or thirty horses left behind, he got up from the
floor, and said to me: 'You will give me a good bed, and you will
prepare breakfast for to-morrow at seven o'clock; all those officers
will breakfast with me: they will have good appetites.  You have
poultry and bacon.  Your wife is a good cook, I know; and you have good
wine.  I require that everything shall be good.  You hear me!'

"I made no answer, and I went out to tell my wife, who had just dressed
and was coming downstairs.  She had heard what was said, and answered,
'Yes, we will obey, since the robbers have the power on their side.'

"That knave of a colonel could hear perfectly well; but it was no
matter to him: his business was to get what he wanted.

"My wife took him upstairs and showed him his bed.  He looked
underneath it, into all the cupboards, the closet; then he opened the
two windows in the corner to see his men below at their posts; and then
he lay down.

"Until morning all was quiet.

"Then the others came back.  The colonel listened to them; he
immediately sent some of the men who had stayed behind to Dosenheim, in
the direction of Saverne; and about a couple of hours after these same
hussars returned with the advanced guard of the army corps.  The
colonel had ascertained that all the mountain passes were abandoned,
and that Lorraine might be entered without danger; that MacMahon and De
Failly had arrived in the open plain, and that there would be no battle
in our neighborhood."

This is all that Cousin George told me, smoking his pipe.

They had just thrown open the door which opens into the garden, to let
air into the kitchen, and we looked from our retreat upon all those
Germans with their helmets, their wet clothes, their strings of
vegetables, and their joints of meat under their arms.  As fast as it
was cooked Marie Anne served out the broth, the meat, and the
vegetables to those who presented themselves with their basins; when
they went out, others came.  Never could fresher meat be seen, and in
such quantities: one of their pieces would have sufficed four or five
Frenchmen.

How sad to think that our own men had suffered hunger in our own
country, both before and after the battle!  How it makes the heart sink!

Without having said a word, George and I had thought the same thing,
for all at once he said: "Yes, those people have managed matters better
than we have.  That meat is not from this country, since they have not
yet requisitioned the cattle.  It has come by rail; I saw that this
morning on the arrival of the gun-carriages.  They have also received
for the officers large puddings, bullocks' paunches stuffed with minced
meats, and other eatables that I am not acquainted with; only their
bread is black, but they seem to enjoy it.  Their contractors don't
come from the clouds, like ours; they may not set rows of figures quite
so straight even as ours; but their soldiers get meat, bread, wine, and
coffee, whilst ours are starving, as we ourselves have seen.  If they
had received half the rations of these men, the peasants of Mederbronn
would never have complained of them: they could still have fed the
unfortunate men upon their retreat."

About eleven at night I returned to the mill a little calmer.  The
sentinels knew me already.  His highness was asleep; so were also his
two aides-de-camp and the chaplain: they had taken possession of our
beds without ceremony.  The servants had gone to sleep in the barn upon
my straw; and as for me, I did not know where to go.  Still, I was a
little more composed in thinking upon what my cousin had told me.  If
these Germans received their provisions by railway, all might be well;
I hoped we might yet keep our cattle, and that then these people would
proceed farther.  With this hope I lay on the flour-sacks in the mill
and fell fast asleep.

But next day I saw how completely mistaken George was in the matter of
provisions.  I am not speaking only of all that was stolen in our
village; every moment people came to me with complaints, as if I was
responsible for everything.

"Monsieur le Maire, they have taken the bacon out of my chimney."

"Monsieur le Maire, they have stolen the boots from under my bed."

"Monsieur le Maire, they have given my hay to their horses.  What must
I do to feed my cow?"

And so on.

The Prussians are the worst thieves in the world; they have no shame;
they would take the bread out of your very mouth to swallow it.

These complaints made me so angry that I took courage to speak to his
highness, who listened very kindly, and said it was very unfortunate,
but that I should remember the French proverb, "À la guerre, comme à la
guerre;" and that this proverb applied to peasants as well as to
soldiers.

I could have borne all this if the requisitions had not begun; but now
the quartermasters were making their appearance, to settle with me, as
they said.

It was of no use to urge that we were poor people, already
three-fourths ruined; they answered: "Settle your own business.  We
must have so many tons of hay; so many bushels of oats, barley, flour;
so much of meat, both beef and mutton, of good quality; or else,
Monsieur le Maire, we will burn down your village."

His highness the Duke of Saxe and his officers had just gone to inspect
the camp around the place; I was left alone.  I wanted to ring the
church bells to assemble the municipal council, but all bell-ringing
was forbidden.  Then I sent round the rural policeman to summon each
councillor, one after the other; but the councillors did not stir: they
thought that by remaining at home they would prevent the Prussians from
doing anything.

In this extremity I made Martin Kopp publish by beat of drum the list
of all that the village had to supply in provisions and articles of
every kind, before eleven in the morning; entreating all honest people
to make haste, if they did not want to see their houses in flames from
one end of the village to the other.

Scarcely had this notice been given out, when everybody made haste to
bring all they could.

The quartermasters made out an inventory; they carried away my best
cow, and gave me a receipt for everything in the name of his Majesty
the King of Prussia.

The general indignation was terrible.

Such was the robbery and violence, in those earlier days, that not so
much as a pound of salt meat could have been bought by us in the whole
country; and as for fresh meat, it was no use thinking of it.  Well,
when the Prussians resorted to requisition, everything was obtained, by
means of that threat of _fire_!  It was known what they had done in
Alsace, and, of course, they were supposed easily capable of beginning
again.

After these requisitions, which might be regarded as a little bouquet
for his highness, the Prussians raised their camp, announcing to us the
arrival of new-comers.  I also heard M. le Baron d'Engel command one of
his orderlies to order at Sarrebourg six thousand rations of bread and
of coffee.  Then I saw clearly that it was intended we should feed all
these fellows till the end of the campaign, and my sad reflections may
easily be imagined.  The German commissariat no longer seemed to me so
admirable.  I could see that it was simply organized robbery and
pillage.

The Duke and his followers had scarcely departed, when a captain of
blue hussars, Monsieur Collomb, came to take his place, with six
horses, and his adjutant, the Count Bernhardy, with three more horses.
They came from Saverne wet through, having spent the night in the open
air, and this gave them a terrible appetite.

I explained that everything had been taken from us--that we had nothing
left to eat for ourselves; but they would not believe me, and my wife
was obliged to turn the house topsy-turvy to find something for them to
eat.

While eating and drinking enough for four, these two gentlemen found
time to tell us that they had hung eleven peasants of Gunstedt on the
day of the battle of Reichshoffen!  They also told us, what was quite
true, that next day provisions would arrive in our village.  Unhappily,
this long train of provisions, which seemed endless, passed on direct
to Sarrebourg.

This was the 12th of August.

We had, then, this captain, his adjutant, their servants, and their
horses on our shoulders; all of whom we had to feed to the full until
the day of their departure.

The batteries of Phalsbourg had dismounted the German guns at the
Quatre Vents.  Sick and wounded in great numbers had been sent to the
great military hospital at Saverne; there were a few left in the
school-room of Pfalsweyer: this annoyed the Prussians.  One would have
thought that it was our duty to let them come and rob, pillage, and
bombard and burn us, without defending ourselves; that we were guilty
of crimes against them, and that they had rights over us, as a nation
of valets.

They actually thought this.

And I have always heard these Germans making such complaints: whether
they took us for fools, or were fools themselves, I do not know exactly
which; but I think there was something of both.

After the passage of a convoy of provisions, which went past us for two
hours, came cannon, powder-wagons, and shells.  Never had our poor
village heard such a noise; it was like a torrent roaring over the
rocks.

The 11th corps was passing.  There were twelve like it, each from
eighty to ninety thousand men.

We now knew nothing whatever about our own troops, nor our relations
and friends in the town.  We were shut up as in an island, in the midst
of this deluge of Prussians, Bavarians, Wurtemburgers, Badeners, who
streamed through in long, interminable columns, and seemed to have no
end.

It appears that the requisitions which had been made the night before,
and that immense convoy of provisions, were not enough for their army,
so they no longer cared to address themselves to Monsieur le Maire; for
the officers whom we lodged having left us early in the morning, all at
once, about seven o'clock, loud cries arose in the village: the
Prussians were coming to carry off all our remaining cattle at one
swoop.  But this time they had not taken their measures so cleverly;
they had not guarded the backs of our houses, and every one began to
drive his beasts into the wood--oxen, cows, goats, all were clambering
up the hill, the women and the girls, the old men and children behind.

Thus they caught scarcely anything.

From that hour, in spite of their threats, our cattle remained in the
woods; and it was also known that we had _francs-tireurs_ traversing
the country.  Some said that they were Turcos escaped from Woerth,
others that they were French chasseurs; but the Prussians no longer
ventured out of the high-roads in small parties; and this is, no doubt,
the reason why they did not go to find our cattle in the Krapenfelz.

The next day, the 13th of August, the Prussians were seen in motion in
the direction of Wéchem.  A Prussian prince, advanced in years, with
long nose and chin, and always on horseback, was at Metting; and the
rumor ran that the great bombardment of Phalsbourg was going to begin,
and that more than sixty guns were in position above the mill at
Wéchem: that they were throwing up earthworks to cover the guns, and
that it was going to be very serious.

That very day, when I was least expecting it, the quartermasters came
back to requisition meat.  But I told them that all the beasts were in
the wood, through their own fault; that they had insisted on taking
everything at once, and now they would get nothing.

On hearing these perfectly correct observations of mine, they tried
threats.  Then I said to them: "Take me--eat me--I am old and lean.
You will not get much out of me."

However, as they threatened us with fire, I gave public notice that the
Prussians still claimed, in the name of the King of Prussia, ten
hundred-weight of oats and of barley, three thousand of straw, and as
much of hay; and that if the whole was not delivered in the market
square on the stroke of twelve, they would set fire to the place
without compassion.

And this time, too, it all came.

These Germans had found out the way to compel people to strip
themselves even of their very shirts!  Fire! fire!  There lies the true
genius of the Prussians.  No one had imagined _fire_--the power of
_fire_, like these brigands.  God alone had brought down fire hitherto
upon His miserable creatures to punish heavy crimes, as at Sodom and
Gomorrah; they resorted to it to rob and plunder us!  It was the
punishment of our folly.

But let us hope that nations will not always be so wicked.  God will
take pity upon us.  I do not say the God of the Jesuits, nor of the
Prussians, who are Protestant Jesuits!  But He whom, every man feels in
his own heart; He who draws from us the tears of pity and compassion,
which we drop upon our brothers unjustly slain; He is the God of whom I
speak, and it is to Him that I cry when I say: "Look upon our
sufferings!  Have we deserved them? are we accountable for our
ignorance?  If so, then punish us!  But if others are to blame: if they
have refused us schools; if they have never taught us anything that we
ought to know; if they have profited by our credulity to impose upon
us, oh!  God, pardon us, and restore to us our country, our dear
country, Alsace and Lorraine!  Let us not be reduced to receiving blows
like the German soldiers!  Degrade not our children, our poor children,
to become servants and beasts of burden to the German nobles!  My God!
we have been verily guilty in believing our 'honest man,' who swore to
Thee with full intent to break his oath: and his Ministers, who plunged
into war 'with a light heart!' after having promised us peace, and who
first secured their own safety and well-lined pockets!  Nevertheless,
we of Alsace and Lorraine, the most faithful children of the Great
Revolution, have not deserved that we should become Germans and
Prussians!  Alas! what a calamity! ..."

I have just been weeping!  After such a flood of miseries and
abominable acts my heart over flows!

Now I pursue my sad story; and I will try never to forget that I am
relating a true history, which everybody knows; which all the world has
seen.

That same day, toward evening, several vans full of Alsacians,
returning from Blamont, passed through our village to return home.  The
Prussians had obliged them to walk; their horses were nothing but bags
of bones; and the people, emaciated, yellow-looking, had been so
battered with blows, so famished with hunger, that they staggered at
every step.

They had not received so much as a ration of bread on the whole
journey; the Germans devoured everything!  They would have seen our
poor fellows--whom they had compelled to bear the burden of their
baggage--they would have seen them drop with weariness and starvation
before their eyes, without giving them a drop of water!  But for our
unhappy invaded Lorraine brothers, who fed them out of their own
poverty, they would have perished, every one.

This is the truth!  We experienced it ourselves not long afterward; for
the same fate was reserved to us.

After the passage of these miserable creatures, to whom I gave a little
bread--though we had scarcely any left, since the Germans, only two
days before, had robbed us of twenty-seven loaves just fresh out of the
oven--after this melancholy sight, we saw coming with a terrible
clatter and ringing of sabres, one after the other, three Prussian
aides-de-camp, who were announced to us; the first as a colonel, the
second a general, and the third I cannot remember what--a duke, a
prince, something of that kind!

It was the colonel whom I had the honor, as they called it, to
entertain, Colonel Waller, of the 10th regiment of Silesian grenadiers;
and then followed the general, who did me the honor to sup at my house
at my expense.  This man's name was Macha-Cowsky.  They had the
pleasure of informing us that that very night Phalsbourg was going to
be thoroughly shelled.  Those gentlemen are full of the greatest
delicacy; they imagined that this good news was going to delight me, my
wife, and my daughter!

The flag of the Silesian grenadiers was brought into the colonel's
apartment.  This regiment was arriving from the Austrian frontier; it
had waited for the declaration of neutrality of the good Catholics down
there, to come by rail and unite with the twelve army corps which were
invading us with so much glory.

I learned this by overhearing their conversation.

That was a very bad night for us.  The officers wanted to be waited on
separately, one after the other; my poor wife was obliged to cook for
them, to bring them plates--in a word, to be their servant; and Grédel,
in spite of her indignation, was helping her mother, pale with passion
and biting her lips to keep it down.

The general and the colonel took their supper at nine, the aide-de-camp
at ten; and so forth all the night through, without giving a thought to
the exhaustion and trouble of the poor women.

They were laughing a good deal over what Monsieur le Curé of Wilsberg
had said the night before; who had told them that the misfortunes of
Napoleon had arisen from his withdrawing his troops from Rome, and that
"whoever ate of the Pope would burst asunder!"

They enjoyed these words and had great fun over them.

I, in my corner, came to the conclusion that from a fool you must
expect nothing but folly.

At last I dropped off to sleep, with my head upon my knees; but
scarcely had daylight appeared when the house was filled with the
ringing of spurs and steel scabbards, and above all rose the loud voice
of the aide-de-camp: "Where are you, you scoundrel! will you come, ass!
fool! brute! come this way, will you!"

This is the way he called his servant!  This is exactly the way they
treat their soldiers, who listen to them gravely, the hand raised
beside the ear, eyes looking right before them, without uttering a
sound!  He is lucky, too, if the speech finishes without a smart box on
the ears or a kick in the rear!  This is what they hope to see us
coming to some day; this is what they call "instructing us in the noble
virtues of the Germans."

The colonel breakfasted at about five in the morning; a company came
for the flag, and the regiments marched off.  We were rejoicing, when
about seven, the bombardment opened with an awful crashing noise.
Sixty guns at Wéchem were firing at the same time.

The town replied; but at half-past eight a heavy cloud of smoke was
already overhanging Phalsbourg; the heavy guns of the fortress only
replied with the more spirit; the shells whizzed, the bombs burst upon
the hill-side, and the thunders of the bastion of Wilsenberg roared and
rolled in echoing claps to the remotest ends of Alsace.

My wife and Grédel, seated opposite each other, looked silently in each
other's faces; I paced up and down with my head bowed, thinking of
Jacob, and of all those good people who at that moment had before their
eyes the spectacle of their burning houses and furniture, the fruit of
their fifty years of labor.

At ten I came out; the dense column of smoke had spread wider and
wider; it extended toward the hospital and the church; it seemed like a
vast black flag which drooped low from time to time and rose again to
meet the clouds.

A squadron of cuirassiers, and behind them another of hussars, dashed
past up the face of the hill; but they came down again with lightning
speed in the direction of Metting, where the Prussian prince had his
head-quarters.

The shells of the sixty guns went on their way rising through the air
and falling into the smoke; the bombs and the shells from the town
dropped behind the Prussian batteries, and exploded in the fields.

The echoes could be heard from the Lützelbourg, thundering from one
moment to another.  The old castle down below must have shaken and
trembled upon its rock.

In the midst of all this terrible din the pillage was beginning afresh;
bands of robbers were breaking from their ranks, and whilst the
officers were admiring the burning town through their field-glasses,
_they_ were running from house to house, pointing their bayonets at the
women and demanding eau-de-vie, butter, eggs, cheese, anything that
they expected to find according to the inspector's reports.  If you
kept bees, they must have honey; if you kept poultry, it must be fowls
or eggs.  And these brigands, in bands of five or six, rummaged and
plundered everywhere.  They committed other horrible deeds, which it is
not fit even to mention.

These are your good old German manners!

And they reproach us with our Turcos; but the Turcos are saints
compared with these filthy vagabonds, who are still polluting our
hospitals.

Coming nearer to us, these robbers found a man awaiting them firmly at
his door; I had grasped a pitchfork, Grédel stood behind with an axe.
Then, having, I suppose, no written order to rob, and fearful lest my
neighbors should come to my side, they sneaked away farther.

But about eleven, a lieutenant, with a canteen woman, came to order me
to give up to him a few pints of wine; saying that he would pay me
every sou, by and by.  This was a polite way of robbing; for who would
be such a fool as to refuse credit to a man who has you by the throat.
I took them down to the cellar, the woman filled her two little
barrels, and then they departed.

About one the colonel returned at the head of his regiment, and
advanced as far as the door without alighting from his horse, asking
for a glass of wine and a piece of bread, which my wife presented him.
He could not stop another moment.

Scarcely had he left us, when again the canteen woman's barrels had to
be replenished.  This time it was an ensign, who swore that the debt
should be fully paid that very night.  He emptied my cask, and went off
with a conceited strut.

Whilst all this was going on, the cannon were thundering, the smoke
rising higher and thicker.  The bombs from Phalsbourg burst on the
plateau of Berlingen.  At half-past four half the town was blazing; at
five the flames seemed spreading farther yet; and the church steeple,
which was built of stone, seemed still to be standing erect, but as
hollow as a cage; the bells had melted, the solid beams and the roof
fallen in; from a distance of five miles you could see right through
it.  About ten, the people in our village, standing before their houses
with clasped hands, suddenly saw the flames pierce to an immense height
through the dense smoke into the sky.

The cannon ceased to roar.  A flag of truce had just gone forward once
more to summon the place to surrender.  But our lads are not of the
sort who give themselves up; nor the people of Phalsbourg either: on
the contrary, the more the fire consumed, the less they had to lose;
and fortunately, the biscuit and the flour which had been intended for
Metz, since the battle of Reichshoffen had remained at the storehouses,
so that there were provisions enough for a long while.  Only meat and
salt were failing: as if people with any sense ought not to have a
stock of salt in every fortified town, kept safe in cellars, enough to
last ten years.  Salt is not expensive; it never spoils; at the end of
a century it is found as good as at first.  But our commissaries of
stores are so perfect!  A poor miller could not presume to offer this
simple piece of advice.  Yet the want of salt was the cause of the
worst sufferings of the inhabitants during the last two months of the
siege.

The flag of truce returned at night, and we learned that there was no
surrender.

Then a few more shells were fired, which killed some of those who had
already left the shelter of the casemates--some women, and other poor
creatures.  At last the firing ceased on both sides.  It was about
nine.  The profound silence after all this uproar seemed strange.  I
was standing at my own door looking round, when suddenly, in the dark
street, my cousin appeared.

"Is anybody there?"

"No."

And we entered the room, where were Grédel and my wife.

"Well," said he, laughing and winking, "our boys won't give in.  The
commanding officer is a brave fellow."

"Yes," said my wife, "but what has become of Jacob?"

"Pooh!" said George, "he is perfectly well.  I have seen very different
bombardments from these; at Saint Jean d'Ulloa they fired upon us with
shells of a hundred-and-twenty pounds; these are only sixes and
twelves.  Well, after all when a man has seen his thirtieth or fortieth
year, it is a good deal to say.  Don't be uneasy; I assure you that
your boy is quite well: besides, are not the ramparts the best place?"

Then he sat down and lighted his pipe.  The blazing town sent out such
a glow of light that the shadows of our casements were quivering on the
illumined bed-curtains.

"It is burning fiercely," said my cousin.  "How hot they must be down
there!  But how unfortunate that the Archeviller tunnel should not have
been blown up! and that the orders of his Majesty; did not arrive to
apply the match to the train that was ready laid.  What a misfortune
for France to have such an incompetent man at her head!  The town holds
out; if the tunnel had only been blown up, the Germans would have been
obliged to take the town!  The bombardment makes no impression; they
would have been obliged to proceed by regular approaches, by digging
trenches, and then make two or three assaults.  This would have
detained them a fortnight, three weeks, or a month; and during this
interval, the country might have taken breath.  I know that the
Prussians have a road by Forbach and Sarre Union to hold the railway at
Nancy; but Toul is there!  And then there is a wide difference between
marching on foot one day's march, and then another day's march with
guns, and ammunition, and all sorts of provisions dragging after you,
convoys to be escorted and watched for fear of sudden attacks; and
holding a perfect railroad which brings everything quietly under your
hands!  Yes, it is indeed a misfortune to be ruled by an idiot, who has
people around him declaring he is an eagle."

Thus spoke my cousin; and my wife informed him that it would please her
much better to see the Germans pass by than to have to entertain them.

"You speak just like a woman," answered George.  "No doubt we are
suffering losses; but do you suppose that France will not indemnify us?
Do you think we shall always be having idiots and sycophants for our
deputies?  If we are not paid for this, who, in future, will think of
defending his country?  We should all open our doors to the enemy: this
would be the destruction of France.  Get these notions out of your
head, Catherine, and be sure that the interest of the individual is
identical with that of the nation.  Ah! if that tunnel had been blown
up the Germans would have been in a very different position!"

Thereupon, my cousin fixed his eyes upon that unhappy town, which
resembled a sea of fire; out of two hundred houses, fifty-two, besides
the church, were a prey to the flames.  No noise could be heard on
account of the distance, but sometimes a red glare shot even to us, and
the moon, sailing through the clouds on our left peacefully went on her
way as she has done since the beginning of the world.  All the hateful
passions, all the fearful crimes of men never disturb the stars of
heaven in their silent paths!  George, having gazed with teeth set and
lips compressed, left us without another word.

We sat up all that night.  You may be sure that no one slept in the
whole village; for every one had there a son, a brother, or a friend.

The next day, the 15th of August, when the morning mists had cleared
away, the smoke was rising still, but it was not so thick.  Then the
main body of the German army proceeded on their march to Nancy; and the
lieutenant, who, the night before, had promised to pay me for my wine,
had stepped out left foot foremost, having forgotten to say good-by to
me.  If the rest of the German officers are at all like that fellow, I
would strongly recommend no one ever to trust them even with a single
_liard_ on their mere word.

After the departure of this second army, came the 6th corps; the next
day, Sunday, and the day after there passed cavalry regiments:
chasseurs, lancers, hussars, brown, green, and black, without number.
They all marched past us down our valley, and their faces were toward
the interior of France.  Yet there remained a force of infantry and
artillery around Phalsbourg, at Wéchem, Wilsberg, at Biechelberg, the
Quatre Vents, the Baraques, etc.  The rumor ran that they were to be
reinforced with heavier artillery, to lay regular siege to the place;
but what they had was just sufficient to secure the railroad, the
Archeviller tunnel, and in our direction the pass of the Graufthal.

The provisions, the stores, the spare horses, and the infantry followed
the valley of Lützelbourg; their cavalry were in part following after
ours.

Since that time we have seen no bombardments, except on a small scale.
Sorties might easily have been made by the townspeople, for all
right-minded people would rather have given their cattle to the town
than see them requisitioned by the Prussians.

Yes, indeed, it was those requisitions which tormented us the most.
Oh, these requisitions!  The seven or eight thousand men who were
blockading the town lived at our expense, and denied themselves nothing.

But a little later, during the blockade of Metz, we were to experience
worse miseries yet.




CHAPTER VIII

A few days after the passage of the last squadrons of hussars, we
learned that the Phalsbourgers had made a sortie to carry off cattle
from the Biechelberg.  That night we might have captured the whole of
the garrison of our village; but the officer in command of the party
was a poor creature.  Instead of approaching in silence, he had ordered
guns to be fired at two hundred paces from the enemy's advanced posts,
to frighten the Prussians!  But they, in great alarm, had sprung out of
their beds, where they lay fast asleep, and had all decamped, firing
back at our men; and the peasants lost no time in driving their cattle
into the woods.

From this you may see what notions our officers had about war.

"The men of 1814," said our old forester, Martin Kopp, "set to work in
a different way; they were sure to fetch back bullocks, cows, and
prisoners into the town."

When Cousin George was spoken to of these matters, he shrugged his
shoulders and made no remark.

Worse than all, the Prussians made fun of us unlucky villagers of
Rothalp, calling us "_la grande nation!_"  But was it our fault if our
officers, who had almost all been brought up by the Jesuits, knew
nothing of their profession?  If our lads had been drilled, if every
man had been compelled to serve, as they are in Germany; and if every
man had been given the post for which he was best fitted, according to
his acquirements and his spirit, I don't think the Prussians would have
got so much fun out of "_la grande nation_."

This was the only sortie attempted during the siege.  The commander,
Talliant, who had plenty of sense, was quite aware that with officers
of this stamp, and soldiers who knew nothing of drill, it was better to
keep behind the ramparts and try to live without meat.

About the same time the officer in command of the post of the Landwehr
at Wéchem, the greatest drunkard and the worst bully we have ever seen
in our part of the country, came to pay me his first visit, along with
fifteen men with fixed bayonets.

His object was to requisition in our village three hundred loaves of
bread, some hay, straw, and oats in proportion.

In the first place he walked into my mill, crying, "Hallo!
good-morning, M. le Maire!"

Seeing those bayonets at my door, a fidgety feeling came over me.

"I am come to bring you a proclamation from his Majesty the King of
Prussia.  Read that!"

And I read the following proclamation:

"We, William, King of Prussia, make known to the inhabitants of the
French territory that the Emperor Napoleon III., having attacked the
German nation by sea and by land, whose desire was and is to live at
peace with France, has compelled us to assume the command of our
armies, and, consequently upon the events of war, to cross the French
frontier; but that I make war upon soldiers and not upon French
citizens, who shall continue to enjoy perfect security, both as regards
their persons and their property, as long as they shall not themselves
compel me, by hostile measures against the German troops, to withdraw
my protection from them."

"You will post up this proclamation," said the lieutenant to me, "upon
your door, upon that of the mayoralty-office, and upon the church-door.
Well! are you glad?"

"Of course," said I.

"Then," he replied, "we are good friends; and good friends must help
one another.  Come, my boys," he cried to his soldiers, with a loud
laugh, "come on--let us all go in.  Here you may fancy yourselves at
home.  You will be refused nothing.  Come in!"

And these robbers first entered the mill; then they passed on into the
kitchen; from the kitchen into the house, and then they went down into
the cellar.

My wife and Grédel had sought safety in flight.

Then commenced a regular organized pillage.

They cleared out my chimney of its last hams and flitches of bacon,
they broke in my last barrel of wine; they opened my wardrobe--scenting
down to the very bottom like a pack of hounds.  I saw one of these
soldiers lay hands even upon the candle out of the candlestick and
stuff it into his boot.

One of my lambs having begun to bleat:

"Hallo!" cried the lieutenant.  "Sheep! we want mutton."

And the infamous rascals went off to the stable to seize upon my sheep.

When there was nothing left to rob, this gallant officer handed me the
list of regular requisitions, saying, "We require these articles.  You
will bring the whole of them this very evening to Wéchem, or we shall
be obliged to repeat our visit: you comprehend, Monsieur le Maire?
And, especially, do not forget the proclamations, his Majesty's
proclamations; that is of the first importance: it was our principal
object in coming.  Now, Monsieur le Maire, _au revoir, au revoir_!"

The abominable brute held out his hand to me in its coarse leather
glove--I turned my back upon him; he pretended not to see it, and
marched off in the midst of his soldiers, all loaded like pack-horses,
laughing, munching, tippling; for every man had filled his tin flask
and stuffed his canvas bag full.

Farther on they visited several of the other principal houses--my
cousin's, the curé Daniel's.  They were so loaded with plunder that,
after their last visit, they halted to lay under requisition a horse
and cart, which seemed to them handier than carrying all that they had
stolen.

War is a famous school for thieves and brigands; by the end of twenty
years mankind would be a vast pack of villains.

Perhaps this may yet be our fate; for I remember that the old
school-master at Bouxviller told us that there had been once in ancient
times populous nations, richer than we are, who might have prospered
for thousands of years by means of commerce and industry, but who had
been so madly bent upon their own extermination by means of war, that
their country became at last sandy wastes, where not a blade of grass
grows now and nothing is found but scattered rocks.

This is our impending fate; and I fear I may see it before I die, if
such men as Bismarck, Bonaparte, William, De Moltke, and all those
creatures of blood and rapine do not swiftly meet with their deserved
retribution.

The pillaging lieutenant that I told you of just now was made a captain
at the end of the war--the reward of his merit.  I cannot just now
recollect his name; but when I mention that he used to roam from
village to village, from one public-house to another, soaking in, like
a sand-bank, wine, beer, and ardent spirits; that he bellowed out songs
like a bull-calf; that he used in a maudlin way to prate about little
birds; that he levied requisitions at random; and that he used to
return to his quarters about one, or two, or three o'clock in the
morning, so intoxicated that it was incredible that a human being in
such a state could keep his seat on horseback, and yet was ready to
begin again next morning; yes, I need but mention these circumstances,
and everybody will recognize in a minute the big German brute!

The other Landwehr officers, in command at Wilsberg, Quatre Vents,
Mittelbronn, and elsewhere, were scarcely better.  After the departure
of the princes, the dukes, and the barons, these men looked upon
themselves as the lords of the land.  Every day we used to hear of
fresh crimes committed by them upon poor defenceless creatures.  One
day, at Mittelbronn, they shot a poor idiot who had been running
barefoot in the woods for ten years, hurting nobody; the next day, at
Wilsberg, they stripped naked a poor boy who unfortunately had come too
near their batteries, and the officer himself, with his heavy boots
kicked him till the blood ran; and then, at the Quatre Vents, they
pulled out of the cellar two feeble old men, and exposed them two days
and nights to the rain and the cold, threatening to kill them if they
did but stir; they pillaged oxen, sheep, hay, straw, smashed furniture,
burst in windows, day after day, for the mere pleasure of killing and
destroying.

[Illustration: THEY DREW TWO POOR OLD MEN FROM THEIR CELLAR.]

Sometimes they found amusement in threatening to make the curés and the
Maires drive the cattle which they themselves had lifted.  And as the
Germans enjoy the reputation with us of being very learned, I feel
bound to declare that I have never seen one, whether officer or
private, with a book in his hand.

Cousin George said, with good reason, that all their learning bears
upon their military profession: the spy system, and the study of maps
for officers, and discipline under corporal punishment for the rest.
The only clear notion they have in their heads is that they must obey
their chiefs and calmly receive slaps in the face.

The young men employed in trade are great travellers.  They get
information in other countries; they are sly; they never answer
questions; they are good servants, and cheap; but at the first signal,
back they go to get kicked; and they think nothing of shooting their
old shopmates, and those whose bread they have been eating for years.

In their country some are born to slap, others to be slapped.  They
regard this as a law of nature; a man is honorable or not according as
he may be the son of a nobleman or a tradesman, a baron or a workman.
With them, the less honorable the man the better the soldier; he is
only expected to obey, to black boots, and to rub down the officer's
horse when he is ordered: a banker's, or a rich citizen's son obeys
just like any one else!  Hence there is no doubt that their armies are
well disciplined.  George said that their superior officers handled a
hundred thousand men with greater ease than ours could manage ten
thousand, and that, for that purpose, less talent was needed.  No
doubt!  If I, who am only a miller, had by chance been born King of
Prussia, I should lead them all by the bridle, like my horses, and
better.  I should simply be careful, on the eve of any difficult
enterprise, to consult two or three clever fellows who should clear up
my ideas for me, and engage in my service highly educated young men to
look after affairs.  Then the machine would act of itself, just like my
mill, where the cogs work into each other without troubling me.  The
machinery does everything; genius, good sense, and good feeling are not
wanted.

These ideas have come into my mind, thinking upon what I have observed
since the opening of this campaign; and this is why I say we must have
discipline to play this game over again; only, as the French possess
the sentiment of honor, they must be made to understand that he who has
no discipline is wanting in honor, and betrays his country.  Then,
without kicking and slapping, we shall obtain discipline; we may handle
vast masses, and shall beat the Germans, as we have done hundreds of
times before.

These things should be taught in every school, and the schools should
be numberless; at the very head of the catechism should be written:
"The first virtue of the citizen under arms is obedience; the man who
disobeys is a coward, a traitor to the Republic."

These were my thoughts; and now I continue my story.

After the passage of the German armies, our unhappy country was, as it
were, walled round with a rampart of silence; for all the men who were
blockading Phalsbourg, and the few detachments which were still passing
with provisions, stores, flocks of sheep, and herds of oxen through the
valley, were under orders not to speak to us, but leave us to the
influence of fear.  We received no more newspapers, no more letters,
nor the least fragment of intelligence from the interior.  We could
hear the bombardment of Strasbourg when the wind blew from the Rhine.
All was in flames down there; but, as no one dared to come and go, on
account of the enemy's posts placed at every point, nothing was known.
Melancholy and grief were killing us.  No one worked.  What was the use
of working, when the bravest, the most industrious, the most thrifty
saw the fruit of their labor devoured by innumerable brigands?  Men
almost regretted having done their duty by their children, in depriving
themselves of necessaries, to feed in the end such base wretches as
these.  They would say: "Is there any justice left in the world?  Are
not upright men, tender mothers of families, and dutiful children,
fools?  Would it not be better to become thieves and rogues at once?
Do not all the rewards fall to the brutish?  Are not those hypocrites
who preach religion and mercy?  Our only duty is to become the
strongest.  Well, let us be the strongest; let us pass over the bodies
of our fellow-creatures, who have done us no harm; let us spy, cheat,
and pillage: if we are the strongest, we shall be in the right."

Here is the list of the requisitions, made in the poorest cabins, for
every Prussian who lodged there: judge what must have been our misery.

"For every man lodging with you, you will have to furnish daily 750
grammes of bread, 500 grammes of meat, 250 grammes of coffee, 60
grammes of tobacco, or five cigars, a half litre of wine, or a litre of
beer, or a tenth part of a litre of eau-de-vie.  Besides, for every
horse, twelve kilos of oats, five kilos of hay, and two and a half
kilos of straw."*


* Bread, about 2 lbs.; meat, 1-½ lbs.; coffee, 8 oz.; tobacco, 2 oz.;
wine, ¾ pint; or beer, 1-½ pints; oats, 26 lbs., etc.


Every one will say, "How was it possible for unfortunate peasants to
supply all that?  It is impossible."

Well, no.  The Prussians did get it, in this wise: They made excursions
to the very farthest farms, they carried off everything, hay, straw;
elsewhere they carried off the cattle; elsewhere, corn; elsewhere,
again, wine, eau-de-vie, beer; elsewhere they demanded contributions in
money.  Every man gave up what he had to give, so that by the end of
the campaign there was nothing left.

Yes, indeed!  We were comfortable before this war; we were rich without
knowing it.  Never had I supposed that we had in our country such
quantities of hay, so many head of cattle.

It is true that, at the last, they gave us bonds; but not until
three-quarters and more of our provisions had been consumed.  And now
they make a pretence of indemnifying us; but in thirty years, supposing
there is peace--in thirty years our village will not possess what it
had last year.

Ah! vote, vote in plébiscites, you poor, miserable peasants!  Vote for
bonds for hay, straw, and meat, milliards and provinces for the
Prussians!  Our _honest man_ promises peace; he who has broken his
oath--trust in his word!

Whenever I think on these things, my hair stands on end.  And those who
voted against the Plébiscite, they have had to pay just as dearly.  How
bitterly they must feel our folly; and how anxious they must be to
educate us!

Imagine the condition of my wife and of my daughter seeing us so
denuded! for women cleave to their savings much more closely than men;
and then mother was only thinking of Jacob, and Grédel of her Jean
Baptiste.

Cousin George knew this.  He tried several times to get news of the
town.  A few Turcos, who had escaped from the carnage of Froeschwiller,
had remained in town, and every day a few got through the postern to
have a shot at the Germans.  On the other hand, as the attack on the
place had been sudden and unforeseen, there had been no time to throw
down the trees, the hedges, the cottages, and the tombstones in the
cemetery.  So this work began afresh: everything within cannon-shot was
razed without mercy.

George tried to reach these men, but the enemy's posts were still too
close.  At last he got news, but in a way which can scarcely be
told--by an abandoned woman, who was allowed in the German lines.  This
creditable person told us that Jacob was well; and, no doubt, she also
brought some kind of good news to Grédel, who from that moment was
another woman.  The very next day she began to talk to us about her
marriage-portion, and insisted upon knowing where we had hidden it.  I
told her that it was in the wood, at the foot of a tree.  Then she was
in alarm lest the Prussians should have discovered it, for they
searched everywhere; they had exact inventories of what was owned by
every householder.  They had gone even to the very end of our cellars
to discover choice wines: for instance, at Mathis's, at the saw-mills,
and at Frantz Sépel's, at Metting.  Nothing could escape them, having
had for years our own German servants to give them every information,
who privately kept an account of our cattle, hay, corn, wine, and
everything every house could supply.  These Germans are the most
perfect spies in the world; they come into the world to spy, as birds
do to thieve: it is part of their nature.  Let the Americans and all
the people who are kind enough to receive them think of this.  Their
imprudence may some day cost them dearly.  I am not inventing.  I am
not saying a word too much.  We are an example.  Let the world profit
by it.

So Grédel feared for our hoard.  I told her I had been to see, and that
nothing in the neighborhood had been disturbed.

But, after having quieted her, I myself had a great fright.

One Sunday evening, about thirty Prussians, commanded by their famous
lieutenant, came to the mill, striking the floor with the butt-ends of
their muskets, and shouting that they must have wine and eau-de-vie.

I gave them the keys of the cellar.

"That is not what I want," said the lieutenant.  "You took sixteen
hundred livres at Saverne last month; where are they?"

Then I saw that I had been denounced.  It was Placiard, or some of that
rabble; for denunciations were beginning.  _All who have since declared
for the Germans were already beginning this business_.  I could not
deny it, and I said: "It is true.  As I was owing money at Phalsbourg,
I paid what I owed, and I placed the rest in safety under the care of
lawyer Fingado."

"Where is that lawyer?"

"In the town guarded by the sixty big guns that you know of."

Then the lieutenant paced up and down, growling, "You are an old fox.
I don't believe you.  You have hid your money somewhere.  You shall
send in your contribution in money."

"I will furnish, like others, my contribution for six men with what I
have got.  Here are my hay, my wheat, my straw, my flour.  Whatever is
left you may have; when there is nothing left, you may seek elsewhere.
You may kill the people; you may burn towns and villages; but you
cannot take money from those who have none."

He stared at me, and one of the soldiers, mad with rage, seized me by
the collar, roaring, "Show us your hoard, old rascal!"

Several others were pushing me out of doors; my wife came crying and
sobbing; but Grédel darted in, armed with a hatchet, crying to these
robbers, "Pack of cowards!  You have no courage--you are all like
Schinderhannes!"

She was going to fall upon them; but I bade her: "Grédel, go in again."

At the same time I threw open my waistcoat, and told the brute who was
pointing his bayonet at my breast: "Now thrust, wretch; let it be over!"

It seems that there was something at that moment in my attitude which
awed them; for the lieutenant, who did nothing but scour the country
with his band, exclaimed: "Come, let us leave monsieur le maire alone.
When we have taken the place, we shall find his money at the lawyer's.
Come, my lads, come on; let us go and look elsewhere.  His Majesty
wants crown-pieces: we will find them.  Good-by, Monsieur le Maire.
Let us bear no malice."

He was laughing; but I was as pale as death, and went in trembling.

I fell ill.

Many people in the country were suffering from dysentery, which we owe
again to these gormandizers, for they devoured everything; honey,
butter, cheese, green fruit, beef, mutton, everything was ingulfed
anyhow down their huge swallows.  At Pfalsweyer they had even swallowed
vinegar for wine.  I cannot tell what they ate at home, but the
voracity of these people would make you suppose that at home they knew
no food but potatoes and cold water.

In their sanitary regulations there was plenty of room for improvement;
health and decency were alike disregarded.

That year the crows came early; they swept down to earth in great
clouds.  But for this help, a plague would have fallen upon us.

I cannot relate all the other torments these Prussians inflicted upon
us; such as compelling us to cut down wood for them in the forest, to
split it, to pile it up in front of their advanced posts; threatening
the peasants with having to go to the front and dig in the trenches.
On account of this, whole villages fled without a minute's warning, and
the Landwehr took the opportunity to pillage the houses without
resistance.  Worse than all, they polluted and desecrated the
churches--to the great distress of all right-minded people, whether
Catholics, Protestants, or Jews.  This proved that these fellows
respected nothing; that they took a pleasure in humiliating the souls
of men in their tenderest and holiest feelings; for even with ungodly
men a church, a temple, a synagogue are venerable places.  There our
mothers carried us to receive the blessing of God; there we called God
to witness our love for her with whom we had chosen to travel together
the journey of life; thither we bore father and mother to commend their
souls to the mercy of God after they had ceased to suffer in this world.

These wretched men dared do this; therefore shall they be execrated
from generation to generation, and our hatred shall be inextinguishable!

Whilst all these miseries were overwhelming us, rumors of all sorts ran
through the country.  One day Cousin George came to tell us that he had
heard from an innkeeper from Sarrebourg that a great battle had been
fought near Metz; that we might have been victorious, but that the
Emperor, not knowing where to find his proper place, got in everybody's
way; that he would first fly to the right, then to the left, carrying
with him his escort of three or four thousand men, to guard his person
and his ammunition-wagons; that it had been found absolutely necessary
to declare his command vacant, and to send him to Verdun to get rid of
him; for he durst not return to Paris, where indignation against his
dynasty broke out louder and louder.

"Now," said my cousin, "Bazaine is at the head of our best army.  It is
a sad thing to be obliged to intrust the destinies of our country to
the hands of the man who made himself too well known in Mexico; whilst
the Minister of War, old De Montauban, has distinguished himself in
China, and in Africa in that Doineau affair.  Yes, these are three men
worthy to lay their heads close together--the Emperor, Bazaine, and
Palikao!  Well, let us hope on: hope costs nothing!"

Thus passed away the month of August--the most miserable month of
August in all our lives!

On the first of September, about ten o'clock at night, everybody was
asleep in the village, when the cannon of Phalsbourg began to roar: it
was the heavy guns on the bastion of Wilschberg, and those of the
infantry barracks.  Our little houses shook.

All rose from their beds and got lights.  At every report our windows
rattled.  I went out; a crowd of other peasants, men and women, were
listening and gazing.  The night was dark, and the red lightning
flashes from the two bastions lighted up the hills second after second.

Then curiosity carried me away.  I wished to know what it was, and in
spite of all my wife could say, I started with three or four neighbors
for Berlingen.  As fast as we ascended amongst the bushes, the din
became louder; on reaching the brow of this hill, we heard a great stir
all round us.  The people of Berlingen had fled into the wood: two
shells had fallen in the village.  It was from this height that I
observed the effect of the heavy guns, the bombs and shells rushing in
the direction where we stood, hissing and roaring just like the noise
of a steam-engine, and making such dreadful sounds that one could not
help shrinking.

At the same time we could hear a distant rolling of carriages at full
gallop; they were driving from Quatre Vents to Wilschberg: no doubt it
was a convoy of provisions and stores, which the Phalsbourgers had
observed a long way off: the moon was clouded; but young people have
sharp eyes.  After seeing this, we came down again, and I recognized my
cousin, who was walking near me.

"Good-evening, Christian," said he, "what do you think of that?"

"I am thinking that men have invented dreadful engines to destroy each
other."

"Yes, but this is nothing as yet, Christian; it is but the small
beginning of the story: in a year or two peace will be signed between
the King of Prussia and France; but eternal hatred has arisen between
the two nations--just, fearful, unforgiving hatred.  What did we want
of the Germans?  Did we want any of their provinces?  No, the majority
of Frenchmen cared for no such thing.  Did we covet their glory?  No,
we had military glory enough, and to spare.  So that they had no
inducement to treat us as enemies.  Well, whilst we were trying, in the
presence of all Europe, the experiment of universal suffrage at our own
risk and peril--and this step so fair, so equitable, but still so
dangerous with an ignorant people, had placed a bad man at the
helm--these _good Christians_ took advantage of our weakness to strike
the blow they had been fifty-four years in preparing.  They have
succeeded!  But woe to us! woe to them!  This war will cost more blood
and tears than the Zinzel could carry to the Rhine!"

Thus spoke Cousin George: and, unhappily, from that day I have had
reason to acknowledge that he was right.  Those who were far from the
enemy are now close, and those who are farther off will be forced to
take a part.  Let the men of the south of France remember that they are
French as well as we, and if they don't want to feel the sharp claw of
the Prussian upon their shoulders, let them rise in time: next to
Lorraine comes Champagne; next to Alsace comes Franche Comté and
Burgundy; these are fertile lands, and the Germans are fond of good
wine.  Clear-sighted men had long forewarned us that the Germans wanted
Alsace and Lorraine: we could not believe it; now the same men tell us,
"The Germans want the whole of France!  This race of slappers and
slapped want to govern all Europe!  Hearken!  The day of the Chambords,
upheld by the Jesuits, and of the Bonapartes, supported by spies and
fools, has gone by forever!  Let us be united under the Republic, or
the Germans will devour us!"  I think the men who tender this advice
have a claim to be heard.

The day after the cannonade we learned that some carts had been upset
and pillaged near Berlingen.  Then the Prussian major declared that the
commune was responsible for the loss, and that it would have to pay up
five hundred francs damages.

Five hundred francs!  Alas! where could they be found after this
pillage?

Happily, the Mayor of Berlingen succeeded in making the discovery that
the sentinels who had the charge of the carts had themselves committed
the robbery, to make presents to the depraved creatures who infested
the camp, and the general contributions went on as before.

Early in September the weather was fine; and I shall always remember
that the oats dropped by the German convoys began to grow all along the
road they had taken.  No doubt there was a similar green track all the
way from Bavaria far into the interior of France.

What a loss for our country! for it always fell to our share to replace
anything that was lost or stolen.  Of course the Prussians are too
honorable to pick or steal anywhere!

In that comparatively quiet time by night we could hear the bombardment
of Strasbourg.  About one in the morning, while the village was asleep,
and all else in the distance was wrapped in silence, then those deep
and loud reports were heard one by one.  The citadel alone received
five shells and one bomb per minute.  Sometimes the fire increased in
intensity; the din became terrible; the earth seemed to be trembling
far away down there: it sounded like the heavy strokes of the
gravedigger at the bottom of a grave.

And this went on forty-two days and forty-two nights without
intermission: the new Church, the Library, and hundreds of houses were
burned to the ground; the Cathedral was riddled with shot; a shell even
carried away the iron cross at its summit.  The unhappy Strasbourgers
cast longing eyes westward; none came to help.  The men who have told
me of these things when all was over could not refrain from tears.

Of Metz we heard nothing; rumors of battles, combats in Lorraine, ran
through the country: rumors of whose authenticity we knew nothing.

The silence of the Germans was maintained; but one evening they burst
into loud hurrahs from Wéchem to Biechelberg, from Biechelberg to
Quatre Vents.  George and his wife came with pale faces.

"Well, you know the despatch?"

"No; what is it?"

"The _honest man_ has just surrendered at Sedan with eighty thousand
Frenchmen!  From the beginning of the world the like of it has never
been seen.  He has given up his sword to the King of Prussia--his
famous sword of the 2d December.  He thought more of his own safety and
his ammunition-wagons than of the honor of his name and of the honor of
France!  Oh, the arch-deceiver! he has deceived me even in this: I did
think he was brave!"

George lost all command over himself.

"There," said he, "that was to be the end of it!  His own army was
those ten or fifteen thousand Decemberlings supplied by the Préfecture
of Police, armed with loaded staves and life-preservers to break the
heads of the defenders of the laws.  He thought himself able to lead a
French army to victory, as if they were his gang of thieves; he has let
them into a sort of a sink, and there, in spite of the valor of our
soldiers, he has delivered them up to the King of Prussia: in exchange
for what?  We shall know by and by.  Our unhappy sons refused to
surrender: they would have preferred to die sword in hand, trying to
fight their way out; it was his Majesty who, three times, gave orders
to hoist the white flag!"

Thus spoke my cousin, and we, more dead than alive, could hear nothing
but the shouts and rejoicings outside.

A flag of truce had just been despatched to the town.  The Landwehr,
who for some time had been occupying the place of the troops of the
line with us--men of mature age, more devoted to peace than to the
glory of King William--thought that all was over; that the King of
Prussia would keep his word; that he would not continue against the
nation the war begun against Bonaparte, and that the town would be sure
to surrender now.

But the commander, Taillant, merely replied that the gates of
Phalsbourg would be opened whenever he should receive his Majesty's
written commands; that the fact of Napoleon's having given up his sword
was no reason why he should abandon his post; and that every man ought
to be on his guard, in readiness for whatever might happen.

The flag of truce returned, and the joy of the Landwehr was calmed down.

At this time I saw something which gave me infinite pleasure, and which
I still enjoy thinking of.

I had taken a short turn to Saverne by way of the Falberg, behind the
German posts, hoping to learn news.  Besides, I had some small debts to
get in; money was wanted every day, and no one knew where to find it.

About five o'clock in the evening, I was returning home; the weather
was fine; business had prospered, and I was stepping into the wayside
inn at Tzise to take a glass of wine.  In the parlor were seated a
dozen Bavarians, quarrelling with as many Prussians seated round the
deal tables.  They had laid their helmets on the window-seats, and were
enjoying themselves away from their officers; no doubt on their return
from some marauding expedition.

A Bavarian was exclaiming: "We are always put in the front, we are.
The victory of Woerth is ours; but for us you would have been beaten.
And it is we who have just taken the Emperor and all his army.  You
other fellows, you do nothing but wait in the rear for the honor and
glory, and the profit, too!"

"Well, now," answered the Prussian, "what would you have done but for
us?  Have you got a general to show?  Tell me your men.  You are in the
front line, true enough.  You bear your broken bones with patience--I
don't deny that.  But who commands you?  The Prince Royal of Prussia,
Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia, our old General de Moltke, and his
Majesty King William!  Don't tell us of your victories.  Victories
belong to the chiefs.  Even if you were every one killed to the last
man, what difference would that make?  Does an architect owe his fame
to his materials?  What have picks, and spades, and trowels to do with
victory?"

"What! the spades!" cried a Bavarian; "do you call us spades?"

"Yes, we do!" shouted the Prussian, arrogantly thumping the table.

Then, bang, bang went the pots and the bottles; and I only just had
time to escape, laughing, and thinking: "After all, these poor
Bavarians are right--they get the blows, and the others get the glory.
Bismarck must be sly to have got them to accept such an arrangement.
It is rather strong.  And, then, what is the use of saying that the
King of Bavaria is led by the Jesuits."

About the 8th or 10th of September, the report ran that the Republic
had been proclaimed at Paris; that the Empress, the Princess Mathilde,
Palikao, and all the rest had fled; that a Government of National
Defence had been proclaimed; that every Frenchman from twenty to forty
years of age had been summoned to arms.  But we were sure of nothing,
except the bombardment of Strasbourg and the battles round Metz.

Justice compels me to say that everybody looked upon the conduct of
Bazaine as admirable--that he was looked upon as the saviour of France.
It was thought that he was bearing the weight of all the Germans upon
his shoulders, and that, finally, he would break out, and deliver Toul,
Phalsbourg, Bitche, Strasbourg, and crush all the investing armies.

Often at that time George said to me: "It will soon be our turn.  We
shall all have to march.  My plans are already made; my rifle and
cartridge-box are ready.  You must have the alarm-bell sounded as soon
as we hear the cannon about Sarreguemines and Fénétrange.  We shall
take the Germans between two fires."

He said this to me in the evening, when we were alone, and I am sure I
could have wished no better; but prudence was essential: the Landwehr
kept increasing in number from day to day.  They used to come and sit
in our midst around the stove; they smoked their long porcelain pipes,
with their heads down, in silence.  As a certain number understood
French, without telling us so, there was no talking together in their
presence: every one kept his thoughts to himself.

All these Landwehr from Baden, Wurtemberg, and Bavaria, were commanded
by Prussian officers, so that Prussia supplied the officers, and the
German States the soldiers: by these means they learn obedience to
their true lords and masters.  The Prussians were made to command, the
others humbly to obey: thus they gained the victory.  And now it must
remain so for ages; for the Alsacians and Lorrainers might revolt,
France might rise, and troubles might come in all directions.  Yes, all
these good Landwehr will remain under arms from father to son; and the
more numerous their victories, the higher the Prussians will climb upon
their backs, and keep them firmly down.

One thing annoyed them considerable; this was a stir in the Vosges, and
a talk of francs-tireurs, and of revolted villages about Epinal.  Of
course this stirred us up too.  These Landwehr treated the
francs-tireurs as brigands in ambush to shoot down respectable fathers
of families, to rob convoys, and threatened to hang them.

For all that, many thought--"If only a few came our way with powder and
muskets, we would join them and try to get rid of our troubles
ourselves."

Hope rose with these francs-tireurs; but the requisitions harassed us
all the more.

The pillage was not quite so bad, but it went on still.  When our
Landwehr, whom we were obliged to lodge and keep, went off to mount
guard at Phalsbourg, others came in troops from the neighboring
villages, shouting, storming, and bawling for oxen, sheep, bacon!  And
when they had terribly frightened the women, these fellows, after all,
were satisfied with a few eggs, a cheese, or a rope of onions; and then
they would take their departure quite delighted.

Our own Landwehr no doubt did the same, for they never seemed short of
vegetables to cook; and these good fathers of families conscientiously
divided it with all the abominable creatures who followed them and had
no other way of living.  How else could it be?  It takes time to turn a
man into a beast, but a few months of war soon bring men back into the
savage state.




CHAPTER IX

On the 29th of September, a Prussian vaguemestre* brought me some
proclamations with orders to make them public.


* The person in command of a wagon train--also an Army letter-carrier.


These proclamations declared that we were now part of the department of
La Moselle, and that we were under a Prussian prefect, the Count Henkel
de Bonnermark, who was himself under the orders of the Governor-General
of Alsace and Lorraine, the Count Bismarck-Bohlen, provisionally
residing at Haguenau.

I cannot tell what evil spirit then laid hold of me; the Landwehr had
brought us the day before the news of the capitulation of Strasbourg; I
had been worried past all endurance by all the requisitions which I was
ordered to call for, and I boldly declared my refusal to post that
proclamation: that it was against my conscience; that I looked upon
myself as a Frenchman still, and they need not expect an honest man to
perform such an errand as that.

The vaguemestre seemed astonished to hear me.  He was a stout man, with
thick brown mustaches, and prominent eyes.

"Will you be good enough to write that down, M. le Maire?" he said.

"Why not?  I am tired out with all these vexatious acts.  Let my place
be given to your friend, M. Placiard: I should be thankful.  Let him
order these requisitions.  I look upon them as mere robbery."

"Well, write that down," said he.  "I obey orders: I have nothing to do
with the rest."

Then, without another thought, I opened my desk, and wrote that
Christian Weber, Mayor of Rothalp, considered it against his conscience
to proclaim Bismarck-Bohlen Governor of a French province, and that he
refused absolutely.

I signed my name to it, with the date, 29th September, 1870; and it was
the greatest folly I ever committed in my life: it has cost me dear.

The vaguemestre took the paper, put it in his pocket, and went away.
Two or three hours after, when I had thought it over a little, I began
to repent, and I wished I could have the paper back again.

That evening, after supper, I went to tell George the whole affair; he
was quite pleased.

"Very good, indeed, Christian," said he.  "Now your position is clear.
I have often felt sorry that you should be obliged, for the interest of
the commune and to avoid pillage, to give bonds to the Prussians.
People are so absurd!  Seeing the signature of the mayor, they make
him, in a way, responsible for everything; every one fancies he is
bearing more than his share.  Now you are rid of your burden; you could
not go so far as to requisition in the name of Henkel de Bonnermark,
self-styled prefect of La Moselle; let some one else do that work; they
will have no difficulty in finding as many ill-conditioned idiots as
they want for that purpose."

My cousin's approbation gave me satisfaction, and I was going home,
when the same vaguemestre, in whose hands I had placed my resignation
in the morning, entered, followed by three or four Landwehr.

"Here is something for you," said he, handing me a note, which I read
aloud:


"The persons called Christian Weber, miller, and George Weber,
wine-merchant, in the village of Rothalp, will, to-morrow, drive to
Droulingen, four thousand kilos of hay and ten thousand kilos of straw,
without fail.  By order--FLOEGEL."


"Very well," I replied.  For although this requisition appeared to me
to be rather heavy, I would not betray my indignation before our
enemies; they would have been too much delighted.  "Very well, I will
drive my hay and my straw to Droulingen."

"You will drive it yourself," said the vaguemestre, brutally.  "All the
horses and carts in the village have been put into requisition; you
have too often forgotten your own."

"I can prove that my horses and my carts have been worked oftener than
any one's," I replied, with rising wrath.  "There are your receipts; I
hope you won't deny them!"

"Well, it doesn't matter," said he.  "The horses, the carts, the hay
and straw are demanded; that is plain."

"Quite plain," said Cousin George.  "The strongest may always command."

"Exactly so," said the vaguemestre.

He went out with his men, and George, without anger, said, "This is
war!  Let us be calm.  Perhaps our turn will come now that the _honest
man_ is no longer in command of our armies.  In the meantime the best
thing we can do, if we do not want to lose our horses and our carts
besides, will be to load to-night, and to start very early in the
morning.  We shall return before seven o'clock to supper; and then they
won't be able to take any more of our hay and straw, because we shall
have none left."

For my part, I was near bursting with rage; but, as he set the example,
by stripping off his coat and putting on his blouse, I went to wake up
old Father Offran to help me to load.

My wife and Grédel were expecting me: for the vaguemestre and his men
had called at the mill, before coming to George's house, and they were
trembling with apprehension.  I told them to be calm; that it was only
taking some hay and straw to Droulingen, where I should get a receipt
for future payment.

Whether they believed it or not, they went in again.

I lighted the lantern, Offran mounted up into the loft and threw me
down the trusses, which I caught upon a fork.  About two in the
morning, the two carts being loaded, I fed the horses and rested a few
minutes.

At five o'clock, George, outside, was already calling "Christian, I am
here!"

I got up, put on my hat and my blouse, opened the stable from the
inside, put the horses in, and we started in the fresh and early
morning, supposing we should return at night.

In all the villages that we passed through, troops of Landwehr were
sitting before their huts, ragged, with patched knees and filthy
beards, like the description of the Cossacks of former days, smoking
their pipes; and the cavalry and infantry were coming and going.

Those who remained in garrison in the villages were obliged by their
orders to give up their good walking-boots to the others, and to wear
their old shoes.

Mounted officers, with their low, flat caps pulled down upon their
noses, were skimming along the paths by the road-side like the wind.
In the old wayside inns, in the corners of the yards the dung-hills
were heaped up with entrails and skins of beasts: hides, stuffed with
straw, were hanging also from the banisters of the old galleries, where
we used to see washed linen hanging out to dry.  Misery, unspeakable
misery, and gnawing anxiety were marked upon the countenances of the
people.  The Germans alone looked fat and sleek in their broken boots;
they had good white bread, good red wine, good meat, and smoked good
tobacco or cigars: they were living like fighting-cocks.

At a certain former time, these people had complained bitterly of our
invasion of their country, without remembering that they had begun by
invading ourselves.  And yet they were right.  At the close of the
First Empire, the French were only fighting for one man; but the
Germans had since had their revenge twice, in 1814 and 1815, and for
fifty years they had always been coming to us as friends, and were
received like brothers: we bore no malice against them, and they seemed
to bear none against us; peace had softened us.  We only wished for
their prosperity, as well as for our own; for nations are really happy
only when their neighbors are prospering: then business and industry
all move hand in hand together.  That was our position!  We said
nothing more of our victories; we talked of our defeats, so as to do
full justice to their courage and their patriotism; we acknowledged our
faults; they pretended to acknowledge theirs, and talked of fraternity.
We believed in their uprightness, in their candor and frankness: we
were really fond of them.

Now hatred has arisen between us.

Whose the fault?

First, our stupidity, our ignorance.  We all believed that the
Plébiscite was for peace; the Ministers, the préfets, the sous-préfets,
the magistrates, the commissioners of police, everybody in authority
confirmed this.  A villain has used it to declare war!  But the Germans
were glad of the war; they were full of hatred, and malice, and envy,
without betraying it: they had long watched us and studied us; they
endured everlasting drill and perpetual fatigue to become the
strongest, and sought with pains for an opportunity to get war declared
against themselves, and so set themselves right in the eyes of Europe.
The Spanish complication was but a trap laid by Bismarck for Bonaparte.
The Germans said to one another: "We have twelve hundred thousand men
under arms; we are four to one.  Let us seize the opportunity!  If the
French Government take it into their heads to organize and discipline
the Garde Mobile, all might be lost....  Quick, quick!"

This is the uprightness, frankness, and fraternity of the Germans!

Our idiot fell into the trap.  The Germans overwhelmed us with their
multitudes.  They are our masters; they hold our country; we are paying
them milliards! and now they are coming back, just as before, into our
towns and cities in troops, smiling upon us, extending the right hand:
"Ha! ha! how are you now?  Have you been pretty well all this long
while?  What! don't you know me?  You look angry!  Ah! but you really
shouldn't.  Such friends, such good old friends!  Come, now! give me a
small order, only a small one; and don't let us think of that unhappy
war!"

Faugh!  Let us look another way; it is too horrible.

To excuse them, I say (for one must always seek excuses for everything)
man is not by nature so debased; there must be causes to explain, so
great a want of natural pride; and I say to myself--that these are poor
creatures trained to submission, and that these unfortunate beings do
as the birds do that the birdcatcher holds captives in his net; they
sing, they chirp, to decoy others.

"Ah! how jolly it is here! how delightful here in Old Germany, with an
Emperor, kings, princes, German dukes, grand-dukes, counts, and barons!
What an honor to fight and die for the German Fatherland!  The German
is the foremost man in the world."

Yes.  Yes.  Poor devils!  We know all about that.  That is the song
your masters taught you at school!  For the King of Prussia and his
nobility you work, you spy, you have your bones broken on the
battle-field!  They pay you with hollow phrases about the noble German,
the German Fatherland, the German sky, the German Rhine; and when you
sing false, with rough German slaps upon your German faces.

No; no! it is of no use; the Alsacians and the Lorrainers will never
whistle like you: they have learned another tune.

Well! all this did not save us from being nipped, George and me, and
from being made aware that at the least resistance they would wring our
necks like chickens.  So we put a good face upon a bad game, observing
the desolation of all this country, where the cattle plague had just
broken out.  At Lohre, at Ottviller, in a score of places, this
terrible disease, the most ruinous for the peasantry, was already
beginning its ravages; and the Prussians, who eat more than four times
the quantity of meat that we do--when it belongs to other people--were
afraid of coming short.

Their veterinary doctors knew but one remedy; when a beast fell ill,
refused its fodder, and became low-spirited, they slaughtered it, and
buried it with hide and horns, six feet under ground.  This was not
much cleverer than the bombardment of towns to force them to surrender,
or the firing of villages to compel people to pay their requisitions.
But then it answered the purpose!

The Germans in this campaign have taught us their best inventions!
They had thought them over for years, whilst our school-masters and our
gazettes were telling us that they were passing away their time in
dreaming of philosophy, and other things of so extraordinary a kind
that the French could not understand the thing at all.

About eleven we were at Droulingen, where was a Silesian battalion
ready to march to Metz.  It seems that some cavalry were to follow us,
and that the requisitions had exhausted the fodder in the country, for
our hay and straw were immediately housed in a barn at the end of the
village, and the major gave us a receipt.  He was a gray-bearded
Prussian, and he examined us with wrinkled eyes, just like an old
gendarme who is about to take your description.

This business concluded, George and I thought we might return at once;
when, looking through the window, we saw them loading our carts with
the baggage of the battalion.  Then I came out, exclaiming: "Hallo!
those carts are ours!  We only came to make a delivery of hay and
straw!"

The Silesian commander, a tall, stiff, and uncompromising-looking
fellow, who was standing at the door, just turned his head, and, as the
soldiers were stopping, quietly said: "Go on!"

"But, captain," said I, "here is my receipt from the major!"

"Nothing to me," said he, walking into the mess-room, where the table
was laid for the officers.

We stood outside in a state of indignation, as you may believe.  The
soldiers were enjoying the joke.  I was very near giving them a rap
with my whip-handle; but a couple of sentinels marching up and down
with arms shouldered, would certainly have passed their bayonets
through me.  I turned pale, and went into Finck's public-house, where
George had turned in before me.  The small parlor was full of soldiers,
who were eating and drinking as none but Prussians can eat and drink;
almost putting it into their noses.

The sight and the smell drove us out, and George, standing at the door,
said to me: "Our wives will be anxious; had we not better find somebody
to tell them what has happened to us?"

But it was no use wishing or looking; there was nobody.

The officers' horses along the wall, their bridles loose, were quietly
munching their feed, and ours, which were already tired, got nothing.

"Hey!" said I to the _feld-weibel_, who was overlooking the loading of
the carts; "I hope you will not think of starting without giving a
handful to our horses?"

"If you have got any money, you clown," said he, grinning, "you can
give them hay, and even oats, as much as you like.  There, look at the
sign-board before you: 'Hay and oats sold here.'"

That moment I heaped up more hatred against the Prussians than I shall
be able to satiate in all my life.

"Come on," cried George, pulling me by the arm; for he saw my
indignation.

And we went into the "Bay Horse," which was as full of people as the
other, but larger and higher.  We fed our horses; then, sitting alone
in a corner we ate a crust of bread and took a glass of wine, watching
the movements of the troops outside.  I went out to give my horses a
couple of buckets of water, for I knew that the Germans would never
take that trouble.

George called to him the little pedler Friedel, who was passing by with
his pack, to tell him to inform our wives that we should not be home
till to-morrow morning, being obliged to go on to Sarreguemines.
Friedel promised, and went on his way.

Almost immediately, the word of command and the rattle of arms warned
us that the battalion was about to march.  We only had the time to pay
and to lay hold of the horses' bridles.

It was pleasant weather for walking--neither too much sun nor too much
shade; fine autumn weather.

And since, in comparing the Germans with our own soldiers as to their
marching powers, I have often thought that they never would have
reached Paris but for our railroads.  Their infantry are just as
conspicuous for their slowness and their heaviness as their cavalry are
for their swiftness and activity.  These people are splay-footed, and
they cannot keep up long.  When they are running, their clumsy boots
make a terrible clatter; which is perhaps the reason why they wear
them: they encourage each other by this means, and imagine they dismay
the enemy.  A single company of theirs makes more noise than one of our
regiments.  But they soon break out in a perspiration, and their great
delight is to get up and have a ride.

Toward evening, by five o'clock, we had only gone about three leagues
from Droulingen, when, instead of continuing on their way, the
commander gave the battalion orders to turn out of it into a parish
road on the left.  Whether it was to avoid the lodgings by the way,
which were all exhausted, or for some other reason, I cannot say.

Seeing this, I ran to the commanding officer in the greatest distress.

"But in the name of heaven, captain," said I, "are you not going on to
Sarreguemines?  We are fathers of families; we have wives and children!
You promised that at Sarreguemines we might unload and return home."

George was coming, too, to complain; but he had not yet reached us,
when the commander, from on horseback, roared at us with a voice of
rage: "Will you return to your carts, or I will have you beaten till
all is blue?  Will you make haste back?"

Then we returned to take hold of our bridles, with our heads hanging
down.  Three hours after, at nightfall, we came into a miserable
village, full of small crosses along the road, and where the people had
nothing to give us; for famine had overtaken them.

We had scarcely halted, when a convoy of bread, meat, and wine arrived,
escorted by a few hussars.  No doubt it came from Alberstoff.  Every
soldier received his ration, but we got not so much as an onion: not a
crust of bread--nothing--nor our horses either.

That night George and I alone rested under the shelter of a deserted
smithy, while the Prussians were asleep in every hut and in the barns,
and the sentinels paced their rounds about our carts, with their
muskets shouldered; we began to deliberate what we ought to do.

George, who already foreboded the miseries which were awaiting us,
would have started that moment, leaving both horses and carts; but I
could not entertain such an idea as that.  Give up my pair of beautiful
dappled gray horses, which I had bred and reared in my own orchard at
the back of the mill!  It was impossible.

"Listen to me," said George.  "Remember the Alsacians who have been
passing by us the last fortnight: they look as if they had come out of
their graves; they had never received the smallest ration: they would
have been carried even to Paris if they had not run away.  You see that
these Germans have no bowels.  They are possessed with a bitter hatred
against the French, which makes them as hard as iron; they have been
incited against us at their schools; they would like to exterminate us
to the last man.  Let us expect nothing of them; that will be the
safest.  I have only six francs in my pocket; what have you?"

"Eight livres and ten sous."

"With that, Christian, we cannot go far.  The nearer we get to Metz,
the worse ruin we shall find the country in.  If we were but able to
write home, and ask for a little money! but you see they have sentinels
on every road, at all the lane ends: they allow neither
foot-passengers, nor letters, nor news to pass.  Believe me, let us try
to escape."

All these good arguments were useless.  I thought that, with a little
patience, perhaps at the next village, other horses and other carriages
might be found to requisition, and that we might be allowed quietly to
return home.  That would have been natural and proper; and so in any
country in the world they would have done.

George, seeing that he was unable to shake my resolution, lay down upon
a bench and went to sleep.  I could not shut my eyes.

Next day, at six o'clock, we had to resume the march; the Silesians
well-refreshed, we with empty stomachs.

We were moving in the direction of Gros Tenquin.  The farther we
advanced, the less I knew of the country.  It was the country around
Metz, le pays Messin, an old French district, and our misery increased
at every stage.  The Prussians continued to receive whatever they
required, and took no further trouble with us than merely preventing us
from leaving their company: they treated us like beasts of burden; and,
in spite of all our economy, our money was wasting away.

Never was so sad a position as ours; for, on the fourth or fifth day,
the officer, guessing from our appearance that we were meditating
flight, quite unceremoniously said in our presence to the sentinels:
"If those people stir out of the road, fire upon them."

We met many others in a similar position to ours, in the midst of these
squadrons and these regiments, which were continually crossing each
other and were covering the roads.  At the sight of each other, we felt
as if we could burst into tears.

George always kept up his spirits, and even from time to time he
assumed an air of gayety, asking a light of the soldiers to light his
pipe, and singing sea-songs, which made the Prussian officers laugh.
They said: "This fellow is a real Frenchman: he sees things in a bright
light."

I could not understand that at all: no, indeed!  I said to myself that
my cousin was losing his senses.

What grieved me still more was to see my fine horses perishing--my poor
horses, so sleek, so spirited, so steady; the best horses in the
commune, and which I had reared with so much satisfaction.  Oh, how
deplorable! ... Passing along the hedges, by the roadside, I pulled
here and there handfuls of grass, to give them a taste of something
green, and in a moment they would stare at it, toss up their heads, and
devour this poor stuff.  The poor brutes could be seen wasting away,
and this pained me more than anything.

Then the thoughts of my wife and Grédel, and their uneasiness, what
they were doing, what was becoming of the mill and our village--what
the people would say when they knew that their mayor was gone, and then
the town, and Jacob--everything overwhelmed me, and made my heart sink
within me.

But the worst of all, and what I shall never forget, was in the
neighborhood of Metz.

For a fortnight or three weeks there had been no more fighting; the
city and Bazaine's army were surrounded by huge earthworks, which the
Prussians had armed with guns.  We could see that afar off, following
the road on our right.  We could see many places, too, where the soil
had been recently turned over; and George said they were pits, in which
hundreds of dead lay buried.  A few burnt and bombarded villages,
farms, and castles in ruins, were also seen in the neighborhood.  There
was no more fighting; but there was a talk of francs-tireurs, and the
Silesians looked uncomfortable.

At last, on the tenth day since our departure, after having crossed and
recrossed the country in all directions, we arrived about three o'clock
at a large village on the Moselle, when the battalion came to a halt.
Several detachments from our battalion had filled up the gaps in other
battalions, so that there remained with us only the third part of the
men who had come from Droulingen.

After the distribution of provender, seeing that the officers' horses
had been fed, and that they were putting their bridles on, I just went
and picked up a few handfuls of hay and straw which were lying on the
ground, to give to mine.  I had collected a small bundle, when a
corporal on guard in the neighborhood, having noticed what I was doing,
came and seized me by the whiskers, shaking me, and striking me on the
face.

"Ah! you greedy old miser!  Is that the way you feed your beasts?"

I was beside myself with rage, and had already lifted my whip-handle to
send the rascal sprawling on the earth, when Cousin George precipitated
himself between us, crying: "Christian! what are you dreaming of?"

He wrested the whip from me, and whilst I was quivering in every limb,
he began to excuse me to the dirty Prussian; saying that I had acted
hastily, that I had thought the hay was to be left, that it ought to be
considered that our horses too followed the battalion, etc.

The fellow listened, drawn up like a gendarme, and said: "Well, then, I
will pass it over this time; but if he begins his tricks again, it will
be quite another thing."

Then I went into the stable and stretched myself in the empty rack, my
hat drawn over my face, without stirring for a couple of hours.

The battalion was going to march again.  George was looking for me
everywhere.  At last he found me.  I rose, came out, and the sight of
all these soldiers dressed in line, with their rifles and their
helmets, made my blood run cold: I wished for death.

George spoke not a word, and we moved forward; but from that moment I
had resolved upon flight, at any price, abandoning everything.

The same evening, an extraordinary event happened; we received a little
straw!  We lay in the open air, under our carts, because the village at
which we had just arrived was full of troops.  I had only twelve sous
left, and George but twenty or thirty.  He went to buy a little bread
and eau-de-vie in a public-house; we dipped our bread in it, and in
this way we were just able to sustain life.

Every time the corporal passed, who had laid his hand upon me, my knife
moved of its own accord in my pocket, and I said to myself: "Shall an
Alsacian, an old Alsacian, endure this affront without revenge?  Shall
it be said that Alsacians allow themselves to be knocked about by such
spawn as these fellows, whom we have thrashed a hundred times in days
gone by, and who used to run away from us like hares?"

George, who could see by my countenance what I was thinking of, said:
"Christian!  Listen to me.  Don't get angry.  Set down these blows to
the account of the Plébiscite, like the bonds for bread, flour, hay,
meat, and the rest.  It was you who voted all that: the Germans are not
the causes!  They are brute beasts, so used to have their faces
slapped, that they catch every opportunity to give others the like,
when there is no danger, and when they are ten to one.  These slaps
don't produce the same effect on them as on us; they are felt only on
the surface, no farther!  So comfort yourself; this monstrous beast
never thought he was inflicting any disgrace upon you: he took you for
one of his own sort."

But, instead of pacifying me, George only made me the more indignant;
especially when he told me that the Germans, talking together, had told
how Queen Augusta of Prussia had just sent her own cook to the Emperor
Napoleon to cook nice little dishes for him, and her own band to play
agreeable music under his balcony!

I had had enough!  I lay under our cart, and all that night I had none
but bad dreams.

We had always hoped that, on coming near a railway, the remains of the
battalion would get in, and that we should be sent home; unhappily our
men were intended to fill up gaps in other battalions: companies were
detached right and left, but there were always enough left to want our
conveyances, and to prevent us from setting off home.

We had not had clean shirts for a fortnight; we had not once taken off
our shoes, knowing that we should have too much difficulty in getting
them on again; we had been wetted through with rain and dried by the
sun five and twenty times; we had suffered all the misery and
wretchedness of hunger, we were reduced to scarecrows by weariness and
suffering; but neither cousin nor I suffered from dysentery like those
Germans; the poorest nourishment still sustained us; but the bacon, the
fresh meat, the fruits, the raw vegetables, devoured by these creatures
without the least discretion, worked upon them dreadfully: no
experience could teach them wisdom; their natural voracity made them
devoid of all prudence.

As a climax to our miseries, the officers of our battalion were talking
of marching on Paris.

The Prussians knew a month beforehand that Bazaine would never come out
of his camp, and that he would finally surrender after he had consumed
all the provisions in Metz; they said this openly, and looked upon
Marshal Bazaine as our best general: they praised and exalted him for
his splendid campaign.  The only fault they could find was, that he had
not shut himself up sooner; because then things would have been settled
much earlier.  They complained, too, of our Emperor, and affirmed that
the best thing we could do would be to set him on his throne again.

George and I heard these things repeated a hundred times at the inns
and public-houses where we halted.  The French innkeepers made us sit
behind the stove, and for pity, passed us sometimes the leavings of the
soup; but for this, we should have perished of hunger.  They asked us
in whispers what the Germans were saying, and when we repeated their
sayings, the poor people said to us: "Really, how fond the Prussians
are of us!  Certainly they do owe some comfort to the men who have
surrendered!  Every brave deed deserves to be rewarded."

One of the Lorraine innkeepers said this to us; he was also the first
to tell us that Gambetta, having escaped from Paris in a balloon, was
now at Tours with Glais-Bizoin and several others, to raise a powerful
army behind the Loire.  In these parts they got the Belgian papers, and
whenever we heard a bit of good news it screwed up our courage a little.

Quantities of provisions and stores were passing: immense flocks of
sheep and herds of oxen, cases of sausages, barrels of bread, wine, and
flour; sometimes regiments also.  The trains for the East were carrying
wounded in heaps, stretched one over another in the carriages upon
mattresses, their pale faces seeking fresh air and coolness at all the
windows.  German doctors with the red cross upon their arms were
accompanying them, and in every village there were ambulances.

The heavy rains and the first frosts had come.  A thousand rumors were
afloat of great battles under the walls of Paris.  The Prussians were
especially wroth with Gambetta: "that Gambetta! the bandit!" as they
called him, who was preventing them from having peace and bringing back
Napoleon.  Never have I seen men so enraged with an enemy because he
would not surrender.  The officers and soldiers talked of nothing else.

"That Gambetta," said they, "is the cause of all our trouble.  His
francs-tireurs deserve to be strung up.  But for him, peace would be
made.  We should already have got Alsace and Lorraine; and the Emperor
Napoleon, at the head of the army of Metz, would have been on his way
to restore order at Paris."

At every convoy of wounded their indignation mounted higher.  They
thought it perfectly natural and proper that _they_ should set fire to
us, devastate our country, plunder and shoot us; but for us to defend
ourselves, was infamous!

Is it possible to imagine a baser hypocrisy?  For they did not think
what they were saying; they wanted to make us believe that our cause
was a bad one; yet how could there be a holier and a more glorious one?

Of course every Frenchman, from the oldest to the youngest--and
principally the women--prayed for Gambetta's success, and more than
once tears of emotion dropped at the thought that, perhaps, he might
save us.  Crowds of young men left the country to join him, and then
the Prussians burdened their parents with a war contribution of fifty
francs a day.  They were ruining them; and yet this did not prevent
others from following in numerous bands.

The Prussians threatened with the galleys whosoever should connive at
the flight, as they called it, of these volunteers, whether by giving
them money, or supplying them with guides, or by any other means.
Violence, cruelty, falsehood--all sorts of means seemed good to the
Germans to reduce us to submission; but arms were the least resorted to
of all these means, because they did not wish to lose men, and in
fighting they might have done so.

We had stopped three days at the village of Jametz, in the direction of
Montmédy.  It was in the latter part of October; the rain was pouring;
George and I had been received by an old Lorraine woman, tall and
spare, Mother Marie-Jeanne, whose son was serving in Metz.  She had a
small cottage by the roadside, with a little loft above which you
reached by a ladder, and a small garden behind, entirely ravaged.  A
few ropes of onions, a few peas and beans in a basket, were all her
provisions.  She concealed nothing; and whenever a Prussian came in to
ask for anything she feigned deafness and answered nothing.  Her
misery, her broken windows, her dilapidated walls and the little
cupboard left wide open, soon induced these greedy gluttons to go
somewhere else, supposing there was nothing for them there.

This poor woman had observed our wretched plight; she had invited us
in, asking us where we were from, and we had told her of our
misfortunes.  She herself had told us that there remained a few bundles
of hay in the loft and that we might take them, as she had no need for
them; the Germans having eaten her cow.

We climbed up there to sleep by night and drew up the ladder after us,
listening to the rain plashing on the roof and running off the tiles.

George had but ten sous left and I had nothing, when, on the third day,
as we were lying in the hayloft, about two in the morning, the bugle
sounded.  Something had happened: an order had come--I don't know what.

We listened attentively.  There were hurrying footsteps; the butts of
the muskets were rattling on the pavement: they were assembling,
falling in, and in all directions were cries:

"The drivers! the drivers! where are they?"

The commander was swearing: he shouted furiously,

"Fetch them here! find them! shoot the vagabonds."

We did not stir a finger.

Suddenly the door burst open.  The Prussians demanded in German and in
French: "Where are the drivers--those Alsacian drivers?"

The aged dame answered not a word; she shook her head, and looked as
deaf as a post, just as usual.  At last, out they rushed again.  The
rascals had indeed seen the trap-door in the ceiling, but it seems they
were in a hurry and could not find a ladder without losing time.  At
last, whether they saw it or not, presently we heard the tramping of
the men in the mud, the cracking of the whips, the rolling of the
carts, and then all was silent.

The battalion had disappeared.

Then only, after they had left half an hour, the kind old woman below
began to call us.  "You can come down," she said; "they are gone now."

And we came down.

The poor woman said, laughing heartily, "Now you are safe!  Only you
must lose no time; there might come an order to catch you.  There, eat
that."

She took out of the cupboard a large basin full of soup made of
beans--for she used to cook enough for three or four days at a
time--and warmed it over the fire.

"Eat it all; never mind me!  I have got more beans left."

There was no need for pressing, and in a couple of minutes the basin
was empty.

The good woman looked on with pleasure, and George said to her: "We
have not had such a meal for a week."

"So much the better!  I am glad to have done you any service!  And now
go.  I wish I could give you some money; but I have none."

"You have saved our lives," I said.  "God grant you may see your son
again.  But I have another request to make before we go."

"What is it, then?"

"Leave to give you a kiss."

"Ah, gladly, my poor Alsacians, with all my heart!  I am not pretty as
I used to be; but it is all the same."

And we kissed her as we would a mother.

When we went to the door, the daylight was breaking.

"Before you lies the road to Dun-sur-Meuse," she said, "don't take
that; that is the road the Prussians have taken: no doubt the commander
has given a description of you in the next village.  But here is the
road to Metz by Damvillers and Etain; follow that.  If you are stopped
say that your horses were worked to death, and you were released."

This poor old woman was full of good sense.  We pressed her hand again,
with tears in our eyes, and then we set off, following the road she had
pointed out to us.

I should be very much puzzled now to tell you all the villages we
passed between Jametz and Rothalp.  All that country between Metz,
Montmédy and Verdun was swarming with cavalry and infantry, living at
the expense of the people, and keeping them, as it were, in a net, to
eat them as they were wanted.  The troops of the line, and especially
the gunners, kept around the fortresses; the rest, the Landwehr in
masses, occupied even the smallest hamlets and made requisitions
everywhere.

In one little village between Jametz and Damvillers, we heard on our
right a sharp rattle of musketry along a road, and George said to me:
"Behind there our battalion is engaged.  All I hope is that the brave
commander who talked of shooting us may get a ball through him, and
your corporal too."

The village people standing at their doors said, "It is the
francs-tireurs!"

And joy broke out in every countenance, especially when an old man ran
up from the path by the cemetery, crying: "Two carriages, full of
wounded, are coming--two large Alsacian wagons; they are escorted by
hussars."

We had just stopped at a grocer's shop in the market square, and were
asking the woman who kept this little shop if there was no watchmaker
in the place--for my cousin wished to sell his watch, which he had
hidden beneath his shirt, since we had left Droulingen--and the woman
was coming down the steps to point out the spot, when the old man began
to cry, "Here come the Alsacian carts!"

Immediately, without waiting for more, we set off at a run to the other
end of the village; but near to a little river, whose name I cannot
remember, just over a clump of pollard willows, we caught the glitter
of a couple of helmets, and this made us take a path along the
river-side, which was then running over in consequence of the heavy
rains.  We went on thus a considerable distance, having sometimes the
water up to our knees.

In about half an hour we were getting out of these reed beds, and had
just caught sight, above the hill on our left, of the steeple of
another village, when a cry of "Wer da!"* stopped us short, near a
deserted hut two or three hundred paces from the first house.  At the
same moment a Landwehr started out of the empty house, his rifle
pointed at us; and his finger on the trigger.


* "Who goes there?"


George seeing no means of escape, answered, "Guter freund!"*


* "A friend."


"Stand there," cried the German: "don't stir, or I fire."

We were, of course, obliged to stop, and only ten minutes afterward, a
picket coming out of the village to relieve the sentinel, carried us
off like vagrants to the mayoralty-house.  There the captain of the
Landwehr questioned us at great length as to who we were, whence we
came, the cause of our departure, and why we had no passes.

We repeated that our horses were dead of overwork, and that we had been
told to return home; but he refused to believe us.  At last, however,
as George was asking him for money to pursue our journey, he began to
exclaim: "To the ---- with you, scoundrels!  Am I to furnish you with
provisions and rations!  Go; and mind you don't come this way again, or
it will be worse for you!"

We went out very well satisfied.

At the bottom of the stairs, George was thinking of going up again to
ask for a pass; but I was so alarmed lest this captain should change
his mind, that I obliged my cousin to put a good distance between that
fellow and ourselves with all possible speed; which we did, without any
other misadventure until we came to Etain.  There George sold his gold
watch and chain for sixty-five francs; making, however, the watchmaker
promise that if he remitted to him seventy-five francs before the end
of the month, the watch and chain should be returned to him.

The watchmaker promised, and cousin then taking me by the arm, said:
"Now, Christian, come on; we have fasted long enough, let us have a
banquet."

And a hundred paces farther on, at the street corner, we went into one
of those little inns where YOU may have a bed for a few sous.

The men there, in a little dark room, were not gentlemen; they were
taking their bottles of wine, with their caps over one ear, and shirt
collars loose and open; but seeing us at the door, ragged as we were,
with three-weeks' shirts, and beards and hats saturated and out of all
shape and discolored with rain and sun, they took us at first for
bear-leaders, or dromedary drivers.

The hostess, a fat woman, came forward to ask what we wanted.

"Your best strong soup, a good piece of beef, a bottle of good wine,
and as much bread as we can eat," said George.

The fat woman gazed at us with winking eyes, and without moving, as if
to ask: "All very fine! but who is going to pay me?"

George displayed a five-franc piece, and at once she replied, smiling:
"Gentlemen, we will attend to you immediately."

Around us were murmurings: "They are Alsacians! they are Germans! they
are this, they are that!"

But we heeded nothing, we spread our elbows upon the table; and the
soup having appeared in a huge basin, it was evident that our appetites
were good; as for the beef, a regular Prussian morsel, it was gone in a
twinkling, although it weighed two pounds, and was flanked with
potatoes and other vegetables.  Then, the first bottle having
disappeared, George had called for a second; and our eyes were
beginning to be opened; we regarded the people in another light; and
one of the bystanders having ventured to repeat that we were Germans,
George turned sharply round and cried: "Who says we are Germans?  Come
let us see!  If he has any spirit, let him rise.  We Germans!"

Then he took up the bottle and shattered it upon the table in a
thousand fragments.  I saw that he was losing his head, and cried to
him: "George, for Heaven's sake don't: you will get us taken up!"

But all the spectators agreed with him.

"It is abominable!" cried George.  "Let the man who said we are Germans
stand out and speak; let him come out with me; let him choose sabre, or
sword, whatever he likes, it is all the same to me."

The speaker thus called upon, a youth rose and said: "Pardon me, I
apologize; I thought----"

"You had no right to think," said George; "such things never should be
said.  We are Alsacians, true Frenchmen, men of mature age; my
companion's son is at Phalsbourg in the Mobiles, and I have served in
the Marines.  We have been carried away, dragged off by the Germans; we
have lost our horses and our carriages, and now on arriving here, our
own fellow-countrymen insult us in this way because we have said a few
words in Alsacian, just as Bretons would speak in Breton and Provençals
in Provençal."

"I ask your pardon," repeated the young man.  "I was in the wrong--I
acknowledge it.  You are good Frenchmen."

"I forgive you," said George, scrutinizing him; "but how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Well, go where you ought to be, and show that you, too, are as good a
Frenchman as we are.  There are no young men left in Alsace.  You
understand my meaning."

Everybody was listening.  The young man went out, and as cousin was
asking for another bottle, the landlady whispered to him over his
shoulder: "You are good Frenchmen; but you have spoken before a great
many people--strangers, that I know nothing of.  You had better go."

Immediately, George recovered his senses; he laid a cent-sous piece on
the table, the woman gave him two francs fifty centimes change, and we
went out.

Once out, George said to me: "Let us step out: anger makes a fool of a
man."

And we set off down one little street, then up another, till we came
out into the open fields.  Night was approaching; if we had been taken
again, it would have been a worse business than the first; and we knew
that so well, that that night and the next day we dared not even enter
the villages, for fear of being seized and brought back to our
battalion.

At last, fatigue obliged us to enter an enclosure.  It was very cold
for the season; but we had become accustomed to our wretchedness, and
we slept against a wall, upon a bit of straw matting, just as in our
own beds.  Rising in the morning at the dawn of day, we found ourselves
covered with hoar-frost, and George, straining his eyes in the
distance, asked: "Do you know that place down there, Christian?"

I looked.

"Why, it is Château-Salins!"

Ah! now all was well.  At Château-Salins lived an old cousin,
Desjardins, the first dyer in the country: Desjardins's grandfather and
ours had married sisters before the Revolution.  He was a Lutheran, and
even a Calvinist; we were Catholics; but nevertheless, we knew each
other, and were fond of each other, as very near relations.




CHAPTER X

We arrived at the door of Jacques Desjardins about seven in the
morning; he had just got up, and was taking coffee with his wife and
his children.

At the first sight of us, Desjardins stood with his mouth wide open,
and his wife and his children were preparing for flight, or to call for
help; but when I said: "Good-morning, cousin; it is we," Desjardins
cried: "Good heavens! it is Christian and George Weber!  What has
happened?"

"Yes, it is we, indeed, cousin," said George.  "See what a condition
the Prussians have brought us to."

"The Prussians!  Ah, the brigands!" said Desjardins.  "Lise, send to
the butcher for some chops--get some wine up.  Ah! my poor cousins.  I
think you must want to change your clothes, too."

"Yes," said George; "and to shave."

"Well, come then.  While your breakfast is getting ready, you will
change your shirts and clothes.  You will put on mine, until yours have
been washed.  Good gracious! is it possible?"

He took us into a beautiful room upstairs; he opened the linen drawers.
Cousin Lise was coming to fill our basins with clean warm water.

"Put on my shoes and stockings, too," said Desjardins.  "Here are my
razors.  Make yourselves comfortable.  Ah! those thieves and rogues of
Germans!  Did they, indeed, treat you in that way--a mayor, and a
person of such respectability?"

Then she left the room, and we began to throw off our clothes.  The
sight of our stockings, our neckerchiefs, and our shirts, made this
kind old Father Desjardins groan; for he was one of the best of men.
He could hardly believe his eyes, and said: "My poor cousins! you have
had a dreadful bad time."

Our first business was to get a good wash.  The nice, clean white
shirts were already spread open upon the bed; and I cannot tell you
what pleasure I experienced in feeling this nice fresh linen next to my
skin.

After this I shaved, while George was recounting our misfortunes to our
cousin, who interrupted him at every moment, crying: "What! what!  Did
the barbarous creatures carry their cruelty to such a point?  Then they
are bandits indeed!  Never has the like been seen!"

I wiped myself dry and comfortable, even to behind the ears, and passed
the razor to George.  Our Cousin Desjardins lent me a pair of
stockings, trousers, a blouse, and nice dry shoes.  We were about the
same height, and never had I been more comfortable in my life.

Then George dressed; and just as we were finishing, the servant came
tapping at the door, to announce breakfast; and we came down full of
grateful feelings.

Cousin Lise and the children were waiting to embrace us; for they did
not dare come near us before, and now they were anxious to excuse
themselves for having received us so badly.  But it was natural enough,
and we did not feel hurt.

I need not tell you with what appetites we breakfasted.  George began
again the story of our misfortunes for Cousin Lise and the children,
who were listening with eyes wide open with amazement, and cried: "Is
it really possible?  How much you must have suffered, and how happy you
must be now you are safe!"

When we had finished she told us that all this was the doing of the
Jesuits; that those people had sent abroad evil reports of the
Protestants, and that now, the Prussians having proved victorious, they
were preaching against Gambetta and Garibaldi.  She told us that it was
those people who had excited the Emperor to declare war, supposing that
their Society would have nothing to lose and everything to gain by it;
that if the French should conquer, they would crush the Lutherans; and
that if the French lost, Chambord would be set up again, to restore to
the Pope the ancient patrimony of St. Peter.

Thus spoke Cousin Lise, an elderly woman with hair turning gray, and
who took a pleasure in discussing these subjects.

But George, after emptying his glass, answered that the true cause of
all our misfortunes was the army; that that army was not the army of
the nation, but of the Emperor, who bestowed rank, honors, pensions,
and grants of money; that the interests of such an army is ever opposed
to that of the country and the people, because the army wants war, to
get promotion; but the people want peace, to work, bring up their
children, and gain a livelihood.

Cousin Desjardins agreed with him; and when coffee was brought, Lise
and her children went out.  Pipes were lighted, and our cousin told us
the latest news.

Desjardins had many books, like most of the Protestants, and received
newspapers from all quarters; first of all, the _Indépendance Belge_,
then papers from Cologne, Frankfort, Berne in Switzerland, Geneva, and
elsewhere.  At his age--having a son fifty years old--he did not
trouble himself much now about dyeing or business, and spent his time
in reading.

He was therefore a better-informed man than we were, and one in whom we
could place full confidence.  It was from him that we heard of the
splendid defence of Chateaudun, the landing of Garibaldi at Marseilles,
and his appointment as General of the Army of the Vosges, the march of
the Bavarians under Von der Tann upon the Loire, and the arrival of the
francs-tireurs in our mountains, in the direction of Epinal and
Raon-l'Etape.  He read to us that fine proclamation of Gambetta to the
French people, setting forth the high purpose of the inhabitants of
Paris, their inexhaustible means of defence, the organization of the
citizens as National Guards, the union and harmony of all in this
moment of difficulty, and the victualling of the city for several
months, which would raise the spirit of the provinces and give them
courage to follow so noble an example.

I still remember this passage, which stirred me like a trumpet:

"Citizens of the departments, this position of affairs imposes
important duties upon you.  The first of all is to allow no other
occupation whatever to divert your attention from the war--from a
struggle to the very last extremity; the second is, until peace shall
be made, loyally to accept the Republican power, which has sprung
equally from necessity and from right principle.  You must have but one
thought: to rescue France from the abyss into which it has been plunged
by the Empire.  There is no want of men: all that is wanting is
determination, decision, and continuity in the execution of plans; what
we have lost by the disgraceful capitulation of Sedan is arms.  The
whole of the resources of our nation had been directed upon Sedan,
Metz, and Strasbourg; and we might justly conclude that by one final
and guilty plot, the author of all our disasters had schemed, in
falling, to deprive us of all means of repairing the ruin he had
caused!"

"He is quite capable," cried George.  "Yes, I am sure the _honest man_
contrived to leave himself a back door into Prussia."

Cousin Desjardins continued: "At this moment, thanks to the
extraordinary exertions of patriotic men, arrangements have been
concluded, the end and object of which is to draw to ourselves all the
disposable muskets in all the markets of the globe.  The difficulty of
effecting this negotiation was very serious: it is now overcome.  With
regard to equipments and clothing, manufactories and workshops will be
multiplied, and materials laid under requisition wherever needed;
neither hands nor zeal on the part of workers are wanting, nor will
money be lacking.  All our immense resources must be called into play,
the lethargy of the rural districts shaken into activity, partisan
warfare spread in all directions.  Let us, therefore, rise as one man,
and suffer death rather than submit to the disgrace of a partition of
our country."

The enthusiasm of George rose with every sentence.

"Good! good!" cried he, "this is speaking to some purpose.  Once give
the impulse, and the object will soon be gained.  Our youths will take
up arms _en masse_.  One victory, only one, and all France would rise;
we should fall like hail on the backs of the scoundrels; they would be
looked out for at every corner in the woods: not a man would live to
get back again!"

Cousin Desjardins, having folded up his papers, said nothing; I, too,
was full of my own thoughts.

"And you, cousin," said I, "have you any confidence?"

And only after a minute's silence, and having taken a good pinch of
snuff, to waken up his ideas--for he took snuff, like all the old
folks, but did not smoke; after a minute he said: "No, Christian, I
have no hope; but it is not the Germans that I fear: they have taken
Strasbourg; after a time they will have Metz by starvation--that is
already settled.  They are besieging Verdun; Soissons has just fallen
into their hands; they have invested Paris; they are advancing upon
Orleans.  Well, in spite of all this, it is not the Germans that I
fear."

"Who then?" asked George.

Without noticing the question, he continued: "France is so strong, so
brave, so rich, so intelligent, that in a few months she could have
flung these barbarians across the Rhine again; but what alarms me, is
the enemies in our midst."

"Nobody is moving," said I.

"It is just because no one is moving that the Germans are on the
Loire," said he, fixing his clear, gray eyes upon me.  "If the question
was to restore Chambord, Ferdinand Philippe, or even Bonaparte IV., you
would see all the old councillors-general, all the councillors of the
arrondissements, all the old préfets, sous-préfets, magistrates, police
inspectors, receivers of taxes, comptrollers, _gardes généraux_,
mayors, and deputy mayors in the field.  No matter which of the three,
for the principal object is to have a Monsieur who has crosses,
promotions, pensions, and perquisites to give: whichever of the lot, it
is all the same to them; they only want just one such man!  These
people would move heaven and earth for their man: they would put the
peasants into lines by thousands, they would sing the Marseillaise,
they would shout the 'country is in danger!'  And the bishops, the
priests, the curés, the vicars, would preach the holy war; France would
drive the Prussians to the farthest corner of Prussia; arms, munitions
of war, stores would be found for every day!  But as it is a Republic,
and as the Republic demands the separation of Church and State, free
education, compulsory military service; as it declares that all must
contribute to the public good, that a rich fool is not a better man
than a poor but able man; and because, on this principle, merit would
be everything, and intrigues and knavery go to the wall, they had
rather see France dismembered than consent to a Republic!  What would
become of the good places of the senators, the peers of France,
prefects, chamberlains, squires, receivers-general, stewards, marshals,
influential deputies, and bishops under a Republic?  They would all be
put into one basket: and they don't want that.  They would rather the
King of Prussia than the Republic, if the King of Prussia would only
engage to keep all the good places for them.  Yes, in their eyes _la
patrie_ means lucrative places and pensions.  It is not the first time
that the Germans have been relied upon to restore order in France.
Marie Antoinette had already ceded Alsace to Austria, to have her
antechambers filled again with smooth-faced, obsequious old servitors.
Passing events bring back those times again.  Formerly the hunters
after pensions, the egotists who wanted to snap up everything and leave
nothing for the people, were called _nobles_; now it is the _bourgeois_
trained by the Jesuits.  But at that time the chiefs of the Republic
were resolved upon the triumph of justice.  They did not leave the
functionaries and the generals of Louis XVI. at the head of the
administrations and of the armies.  These great patriots had
common-sense.  They established Republican municipalities in every
commune; they gave the command of our armies to Republican generals;
they restrained the reactionnaires; and having cleared our territory of
Germans, they judged those who had called them in; and France was saved.

"The same thing would happen to-day, in spite of all the preparations
of Germany, in spite of the treason of Bonaparte, who, seeing his
dynasty sacrificed by his own incapacity, gave up our last army at
Sedan to stay the victory of the Republic.

"Yes, notwithstanding the egotism of this unhappy man, we might yet
beat the Germans, if the Royalists were not at the head of our affairs;
but they are everywhere.  In Paris, they command the National Guard and
the army; in the provinces, they are forming those famous
councils-general, whence have been drawn the juries to acquit Pierre
Bonaparte, and who would without shame sentence Gambetta to death if
they were assembled to try him.  Instead of helping this brave man,
this good patriot, to save France, they will obstruct him; they will
run sticks between the spokes of his wheels; they will hinder him from
getting the necessary levies; they will clamp the enthusiasm of the
people.  See what all these German papers say: they cannot sufficiently
abuse Gambetta, who is defending his country, nor sufficiently flatter
the councils-general named under the Empire."

"But, then," said George, "must we surrender?"

"No," replied Desjardins.  "Although we are sure of being vanquished,
we must show that we are still the old race: that its roots are not
dead, and that the tree will sprout again.  If we had reeled and fallen
under the blow of Sedan, the contempt of Europe and of the whole world
would have covered us forever.  The nation has risen since.  It seems
incredible.  Without armies, or guns, or muskets, or victuals, or
military stores, betrayed, surprised, overrun in all directions, this
nation has risen again!  It defends itself!  One brave man has been
found sufficient to raise its courage.  What other nation would have
done as much?  I am, therefore, of opinion that the struggle must be
maintained to the end, that the Germans may be made, as it were,
ashamed of their victory.  They have been fifty years preparing; they
have hidden themselves from us, to spy upon us in time of peace; they
have dissembled their hatred; they have brought their whole power to
bear upon us; they have studied the question under every aspect; they
threw against us, at the opening of the campaign, 600,000 men against
220,000; they are going to attack our raw conscripts with their best
troops; they will be five and six against one; they will call Russia to
their help if they want it; and then they will proclaim, 'We are the
conquerors!'  They will not be ashamed to say, 'We have vanquished
France.  Now it is we who are _La Grande Nation_!'"

"All that," said George, "is possible.  But in the meantime, we may win
a battle; and, if we gain a victory, things will be different.  We
shall gain fresh courage, and the Landwehr who are sent against
us--almost all fathers of families--will ask no better than to return
home."

"The Landwehr have not a word to say," replied Desjardins: "they are
not consulted; those fellows march where they are ordered; they have
long been subject to military discipline.  It is a machine: nothing but
a machine; but a machine of crushing weight."

Then Cousin Desjardins told us that, having travelled long in Germany
before and after 1848, on business, he had seen how these people
detested us: that they envied us; that we were an offence to them; that
hatred of the French was taught in their schools; that they thought
themselves our superiors, on account of their religion, which is simple
and natural; while ours, with all its ceremonies, its Latin chants, its
tapers and its tinsel, induced them to look upon us as an inferior
race, like the negroes, who are only fond of red, and hang rings in
their noses; that, especially, they deemed their women more virtuous
and more worthy of respect than ours: this they attribute also to their
superior religion, which keeps them at home, while ours pass their time
in all sorts of ceremonies, and neglect their first duties.

Desjardins had even had a serious dispute upon this subject with a
school-master, being unable to hear an open avowal of such an opinion
of Frenchwomen; amongst whom we number Jeanne d'Arc and other heroines,
whose grandeur of character German women are unable to comprehend.

He told us that, from this point of view, the Germans, and especially
the Prussians, considered us Alsacians and Lorrainers as exiles from
fatherland, and unfortunate in being under the dominion of a debased
race kept in ignorance by the priests.

George, on hearing this, became furious, and cried that we had more
intelligence and more sense than all the Germans put together.

"Yes, I believe so, too," replied Cousin Desjardins; "only we ought to
use it; we ought to set up schools everywhere; the lowest Frenchman
should be able to read and write our own language; and this is exactly
what the lovers of good places don't wish for.  If the people had been
educated, we should have known what was going on upon the other side of
the Rhine; we should have had national armies, able generals, a
watchful commissariat, a sound organization, enlightened and
conscientious deputies; we should have had all that we are now wanting;
we should not have placed the power of making war or peace in the hands
of an imbecile; we should not have stupidly attacked the Germans, and
the Germans, seeing us ready to receive them, would have been careful
not to attack us.  All our defeats, all our divisions, our internal
troubles, our revolutions, our battles and massacres in the streets;
the transportations, the hatred between classes--all this comes of
ignorance; and this abominable ignorance is the doing of the selfish
statesmen who have governed us for seventy years.  Good sense, justice,
and patriotism would lead them to inform the people; they preferred an
alliance with the Jesuits to degrade the people; can any treason be
worse?"

George, who had long entertained the same view, had nothing to add; but
he still argued that we might gain a victory, and that then we should
be saved.

Cousin Desjardins shook his head, saying: "Our forces are of too
inferior a quality; Gambetta will never have time to organize them; and
if the traitors thought that he would, they would deliver up Metz at
once, in order that the second German army, Prince Frederick Charles's,
might reach the Loire in time to prevent our army from raising the
siege of Paris: for then, I think, the country might be saved.  But
this will not come to pass.  When I saw generals coming out of Metz to
go and consult the Empress in England, I knew that our cause was lost.
And then the forces of King William are immense.  Those 300,000
Russians who, as the papers tell us, are ready to march upon
Constantinople, are only waiting the nod of the King of Prussia to
start by the railways and come to overwhelm us, if the Germans don't
think themselves numerous enough to vanquish us with 1,200,000 men.
The decisive opinion of Europe is that there shall be no republic in
France--no, not at any price; for, if the republic was established
here, every monarchy would be shaken; the nations would all follow our
example, and there would be an end of war; we should have a European
confederation; kings, emperors, princes, courtiers, and professional
soldiers might all be bowed off the stage.  Only commerce, industry,
science and arts would be thought of; to be anything, a man would have
to know something.  The talent of drawing up men in line to be mown
down by cannon and mitrailleuses, would be relegated to the rear ranks;
and a hundred years hence, men would hardly believe that such things
have ever been; it would be too stupid."

Desjardins then told us how, in 1830, travelling about Solingen to buy
dye-stuffs, he had noticed that the Prussians thought of nothing but
war.  From that very time they exhausted themselves to keep on foot,
and ready to march, an army of 400,000 disciplined men.  Since then,
after their fusion with the forces of North Germany, Bavaria,
Wurtemberg, and Baden, the total would amount to more than a million of
men, without reckoning the landsturm: composed, it is true, of men in
years, but who have all served, and can handle a rifle, load a gun, and
ride well.

"Here, then, is what Monsieur Bonaparte has brought upon our shoulders
without necessity," said he; "and it is against such a power that
Gambetta is undertaking to organize in haste the youth that are left,
and of whom the greater part have never served.  I confess my hopes are
small.  God grant that I may be mistaken; but I fear that Alsace and
Lorraine are for the time ingulfed in Germany.  The war will continue
for a time; treachery will go on working; and, finally, after all our
sufferings, messieurs the sometime Ministers and councillors-general,
the former préfets and sous-préfets, the old functionaries of every
grade, in a word, all the egotists will be on the look-out, and will
say: 'Let us make an arrangement with Bismarck.  Let us make peace at
the expense of Alsace and Lorraine; and let us name a king who shall
find us first-rate places; France will still be rich enough to find us
salaries and pensions.'"

Thus spoke Cousin Desjardins; and George, growing more and more angry,
striking the table with his fist, said, "What I cannot understand is
that the English desert us, and that they should allow the Prussians to
extend their territory as they like."

"Ah," said Desjardins, smiling, "the English are not what they once
were.  They have become too rich; they cling to their comforts.  Their
great statesmen are no longer Pitts and Chathams, who looked to the
future greatness of their nation and took measures to secure it:
provided only that business prospers from day to day, future
generations and the greatness of Britain give them no concern."

"Just so," said George.  "If you had sailed, as I have done, in the
North Sea and the Baltic, if you had seen what an enormous maritime
power North Germany may possibly become in a few years, with her
hundred and sixty leagues of seacoast, her harbors of Dantzig, Stettin,
Hamburg, and Bremen, whither the finest rivers bring all the best
products of Central Europe, all kinds of raw material, not only from
Germany and Poland, but also from Russia; if you had seen that
population of sailors, of traders, which increases daily, you would be
unable to understand the indifference of the English.  Have they lost
the use of their eyes?  Has the love of Protestantism and comfort
deprived them of all discernment?  I cannot tell; but they must see
that if King William and Bismarck want Alsace and Lorraine, it is not
exactly for the love of us Alsacians and Lorrainers, but to hold the
course of the Rhine from its source in the German cantons of
Switzerland down to its outfall at Rotterdam; and that in holding this
great river they will control all the commerce of our industrial
provinces and be able to feed the Dutch colonies with their produce,
which will make them the first maritime power on the Continent; and
that, to carry out their purpose without being molested--whilst the
Russians are attacking Constantinople, they will install themselves
quietly in the Dutch ports, as they did in the case of Hanover, and
will offer us Belgium, and perhaps even something more!  All this is
evident."

"No doubt, cousin," said Desjardins.  "I also believe that every fault
brings its own punishment: the English will suffer for their faults, as
we are doing for ours; and the Germans, after having terrified the
world with their ambition, will one day be made to rue their cruelty,
their hypocrisy, and their robberies.  God is just!  But in the
meantime, until that day shall arrive, we are confiscated, and all our
observations are useless."

And so the conversation went on: I cannot remember it entirely, but I
have given you the substance of it.




CHAPTER XI

We remained with Cousin Desjardins all that day.  Cousin Lise had our
shirts washed, our clothes cleaned, and our shoes dried before the
fire, after having first filled them with hot embers; and the next day
we took our leave of these excellent people, thanking them from the
bottom of our hearts.

We were very impatient to see our native place again, of which we had
had no news for a month; and especially our poor wives, who must have
supposed us lost.

The weather was damp; there were forebodings of a hard winter.

At Dieuze the rumor reached us that Bazaine had just surrendered Metz,
with all his army, his flags, his guns, rifles, stores, and wounded,
unconditionally!

The Prussian officers were drinking champagne at the inn where we
halted.  They were laughing!  George was pale; I felt an oppression on
my heart.

Some people who were there, carriers--German Jews, who followed their
armies with carts, to load them with the clocks, the pots and pans, the
linen, the furniture, and everything which the officers and soldiers
sold them after having pillaged them in our houses--told us how horses
were given away round Metz for nothing; that Arab horses were sold for
a hundred sous, but that nobody would have them, horses' provender
selling at an exorbitant price; that these poor beasts were eating one
another--they devoured each other's hair to the quick, and even gnawed
the bark off trees to which they were tied; that our captive soldiers
dropped down with hunger in the ditches by the roadside, and then the
Prussians abused them for drunkards.  We heard, also, that the
inhabitants of Metz, on hearing the terms of capitulation, had meant to
rise and put Bazaine to death, but that all through the siege three
mitrailleuses had been placed in front of his head-quarters, and that
he had escaped the day before this shameful capitulation was to take
place.

All this appeared to us almost impossible.  Metz surrender
unconditionally!  Metz, the strongest town in France, defended by an
army of a hundred thousand well-seasoned troops: the last army left to
us after Sedan!

But it was true, nevertheless!

And in spite of all that can be said of the ignorance and the folly of
the chiefs, to account for this terrible disaster, I cannot but believe
that our _honest man_ gave his orders to the very last; that Bazaine
obeyed, and that they did everything together.  Besides, Bazaine went
to join him immediately at Wilhelmshöhe, where the cuisine was so
excellent; there they reposed after their toils, until the opportunity
should return of recommencing a campaign after the fashion of the 2d of
December, in which men were entrapped by night in their beds, while
they were relying upon _the honest man's_ oath; or in the style of the
Mexican war, where he ran away, deserting the men he had sworn to
defend!  In this sort of campaign, and if the people continue to have
confidence in such men, as many assert will happen, they may begin
again some fine morning, and once more get hold of the keys of the
treasury; they will once more distribute crosses, and salaries, and
pensions to their friends and acquaintances; and in a few years
Bismarck will discover that the Germans possess claims upon Champagne
and Burgundy.

Well, everything is possible; we have seen such strange things these
last twenty years.

At Fénétrange, through which we passed about two o'clock, nothing was
known.

At six in the evening we arrived upon the plateau of Metting, near the
farm called Donat, and saw in the dim distance, two leagues from us,
Phalsbourg, without its ramparts, and its demilunes; its church and its
streets in ashes!  The Germans were hidden by the undulations of the
surrounding country, their cannon were on the hill-sides, and sentinels
were posted behind the quarries.

There was deep silence: not a shot was heard: it was the blockade!
Famine was doing quietly what the bombardment had been unable to effect.

Then, with heads bowed down, we passed through the little wood on our
left, full of dead leaves, and we saw our little village of Rothalp,
three hundred paces behind the orchards and the fields; it looked dead
too: ruin had passed over it--the requisitions had utterly exhausted
it; winter, with its snow and ice, was waiting at every door.

The mill was working; which astonished me.

George and I, without speaking, clasped each other's hands; then he
strode toward his house, and I passed rapidly to mine, with a full
heart.

Prussian soldiers were unloading a wagon-load of corn under my shed;
fear laid hold of me, and I thought, "Have the wretches driven away my
wife and daughter?"

Happily Catherine appeared at the door directly; she had seen me
coming, and extended her arms, crying, "Is it you, Christian?  Oh! what
we have suffered!"

She hung upon my neck, crying and sobbing.  Then came Grédel; we all
clung together, crying like children.

The Prussians, ten paces off, stared at us.  A few neighbors were
crying, "Here is the old mayor come back again!"

At last we entered our little room.  I sat facing the bed, gazing at
the old bed-curtains, the branch of box-tree at the end of the alcove,
the old walls, the old beams across the ceiling, the little
window-panes, and my good wife and my wayward daughter, whom I love.
Everything seemed to me so nice.  I said to myself, "We are not all
dead yet.  Ah! if now I could but see Jacob, I should be quite happy."

My wife, with her face buried in her apron between her knees, never
ceased sobbing, and Grédel, standing in the middle of the room, was
looking upon us.  At last she asked me: "And the horses, and the carts,
where are they?"

"Down there, somewhere near Montmédy."

"And Cousin George?"

"He is with Marie Anne.  We have had to abandon everything--we escaped
together--we were so wretched!  The Germans would have let us die with
hunger."

"What! have they ill-used you, father?"

"Yes, they have beaten me."

"Beaten you?"

"Yes, they tore my beard--they struck me in the face."

Grédel, hearing this, went almost beside herself; she threw a window
open, and shaking her fist at the Germans outside, she screamed to
them, "Ah, you brigands!  You have beaten my father--the best of men!"

Then she burst into tears, and came up to kiss me, saying, "They shall
be paid out for all that!"  I felt moved.

My wife, having become calmer, began to tell me all they had suffered:
their grief at receiving no news of us since the third day after the
passage of the pedler; then the appointment of Placiard in my place,
and the load of requisitions he had laid upon us, saying that I was a
Jacobin.

He associated with none but Germans now; he received them in his house,
shook hands with them, invited them to dinner, and spoke nothing but
Prussian German.  He was now just as good a servant of King William as
he had been of the Empire.  Instead of writing letters to Paris to get
stamp-offices and tobacco-excise-offices, he now wrote to
Bismarck-Bohlen, and already the good man had received large promises
of advancement for his sons, and son-in-law.  He himself was to be made
superintendent of something or other, at a good salary.

I listened without surprise; I was sure of this beforehand.

One thing gave me great pleasure, which was to see the mill-dam full of
water: so the chest was still at the bottom.  And Grédel having left
the room to get supper, that was the first thing I asked Catherine.

She answered that nothing had been disturbed: that the water had never
sunk an inch.  Then I felt easy in my mind, and thanked God for having
saved us from utter ruin.

The Germans had been making their own bread for the last fortnight;
they used to come and grind at my mill, without paying a liard.  How to
get through our trouble seemed impossible to find out.  There was
nothing left to eat.  Happily the Landwehr had quickly become used to
our white bread, and, to get it, they willingly gave up a portion of
their enormous rations of meat.  They would also exchange fat sheep for
chickens and geese, being tired of always eating joints of mutton, and
Catherine had driven many a good bargain with them.  We had, indeed,
one cow left in the Krapenfelz, but we had to carry her fodder every
day among these rocks, to milk her, and come back laden.

Grédel, ever bolder and bolder, went herself.  She kept a hatchet under
her arm, and she told me smiling that one of those drunken Germans
having insulted her, and threatened to follow her into the wood, she
had felled him with one blow of her hatchet, and rolled his body into
the stream.

Nothing frightened her: the Landwehr who lodged with us--big, bearded
men--dreaded her like fire; she ordered them about as if they were her
servants: "Do this! do that!  Grease me those shoes, but don't eat the
grease, like your fellows at Metting; if you do, it will be the worse
for you!  Go fetch water!  You sha'n't go into the store-room straight
out of the stable! your smell is already bad enough without horse-dung!
You are every one of you as dirty as beggars, and yet there is no want
of water: go and wash at the pump."

And they obediently went.

She had forbidden them to go upstairs, telling them, "_I_ live up
there! that's my room.  The first man who dares put his foot there, I
will split his head open with my hatchet."

And not a man dared disobey.

Those people, from the time they had set over us their governor
Bismarck-Bohlen, had no doubt received orders to be careful with us, to
treat us kindly, to promise us indemnities.  Captain Floegel went on
drinking from morning till night, from night till morning; but instead
of calling us rascals, wretches! he called us "his good Germans, his
dear Alsacian and Lorraine brothers," promising us all the prosperity
in the world, as soon as we should have the happiness of living under
the old laws of Fatherland.

They were already talking of dismissing all French school-masters, and
then we began to see the abominable carelessness of our government in
the matter of public education.  Half of our unhappy peasants did not
know a word of French: for two hundred years they had been left
grovelling in ignorance!

Now the Germans have laid hands upon us, and are telling them that the
French are enemies of their race; that they have kept them in bondage
to get all they could out of them, to live at their cost, and to use
their bodies for their own protection in time of danger.  Who can say
it is not so?  Are not all appearances against us?  And if the Germans
bestow on the peasants the education which all our governments have
denied them, will not these people have reason to attach themselves to
their new country?

The Germans having altered their bearing toward us, and seeking to win
us over, lodged in our houses.  They were Landwehr, who thought only of
their wives and children, wishing for the end of the war, and much
fearing the appearance of the francs-tireurs.

The arrival of Garibaldi in the Vosges with his two sons was announced,
and often George, pointing from his door at the summit of the Donon and
the Schneeberg, already white with snow, would say: "There is fighting
going on down there!  Ah, Christian, if we were young again, what a
fine blow we might deliver in our mountain passes!"

Our greatest sorrow was to know that famine was prevailing in the town,
as well as small-pox.  More than three hundred sick, out of fifteen
hundred inhabitants, were filling the College, where the hospital had
been established.  There was no salt, no tobacco, no meat.  The flags
of truce which were continually coming and going on the road to
Lützelbourg, reported that the place could not hold out any longer.

There had been a talk of bringing heavy guns from Strasbourg and from
Metz, after the surrender of these two places; but I remember that the
_Hauptmann_ who was lodging with the curé, M. Daniel, declared that it
was not worth while; that a fresh bombardment would cost his Majesty
King William at least three millions; and that the best way was to let
these people die their noble death quietly, like a lamp going out for
want of oil.  With these words the _Hauptmann_ put on airs of humanity,
continually repeating that we ought to save human life, and economize
ammunition.

And what had become of Jacob in the midst of this misery?  And Jean
Baptiste Werner?  I am obliged to mention him too, for God knows what
madness was possessing Grédel at the thought that he might be suffering
hunger: she was no longer human; she was a mad creature without control
over herself, and she often made me wonder at the meek patience of the
Landwehr.  When one or another wanted to ask her for anything, she
would show them the door, crying: "Go out; this is not your place!"

She even openly wished them all to be massacred; and then she would say
to them, in mockery: "Go, then! attack the town! ... go and storm the
place! ... You don't dare! ... You are afraid for your skin!  You had
rather starve people, bombard women and children, burn the houses of
poor creatures, hiding yourselves behind your heaps of clay!  You must
be cowards to set to work that way.  If ours were out, and you were in,
they would have been a dozen times upon the walls: but you are afraid
of getting your ribs stove in!  You are prudent men!"

And they, seated at our door, with their heads hanging down, spoke not
a word, but went on smoking, as if they did not hear.

Yet one day these peaceable men showed a considerable amount of
indignation, not against Grédel or us, but against their own generals.

It was some time after the capture of Metz.  The cold weather had set
in.  Our Landwehr returning from mounting guard were squeezed around
the stove, and outside lay the first fall of snow.  And as they were
sitting thus, thinking of nothing but eating and drinking, the bugle
blew outside a long blast and a loud one, the echoes of which died far
away in the distant mountains.

An order had arrived to buckle on their knapsacks, shoulder their
rifles, and march for Orleans at once.

You should have seen the long, dismal faces of these fellows.  You
should have heard them protesting that they were Landwehr, and could
not be made to leave German provinces.  I believe that if there had
been at that moment a sortie of fifty men from Phalsbourg, they would
have given themselves up prisoners, every one, to remain where they
were.

But Captain Floegel, with his red nose and his harsh voice, had come to
give the word of command, "Fall in!"

They had to obey.  So there they stood in line before our mill, three
or four hundred of them, and were then obliged to march up the hill to
Mittelbronn, whilst the villagers, from their windows, were crying, "A
good riddance!"

It was supposed, too, that the blockade of Phalsbourg would be raised,
and everybody was preparing baskets, bags, and all things needful to
carry victuals to our poor lads.  Grédel, who was most unceremonious,
had her own private basket to carry.  It was quite a grand removal.

But where did this order to march come from?  What was the meaning of
it all?

I was standing at our door, meditating upon this, when Cousin Marie
Anne came up, whispering to me, "We have won a great battle: all the
men at Metz are running to the Loire."

"How do you know that, cousin?"

"From an Englishman who came to our house last night."

"And where has this battle taken place?"

"Wait a moment," said she.  "At Coulmiers, near Orleans.  The Germans
are in full retreat; their officers are taking refuge in the
mayoralty-office with their men, to escape being slaughtered."

I asked no more questions, and I ran to Cousin George's, very curious
to see this Englishman and hear what he might have to tell us.

As I went in, my cousin was seated at the table with this foreigner.
They had just breakfasted, and they seemed very jolly together.  Marie
Anne followed me.

"Here is my cousin, the former mayor of this village," said George,
seeing me open the door.

Immediately the Englishman turned round.  He was a young man of about
five and thirty, tall and thin, with a hooked nose, hazel eyes full of
animation, clean shaved, and buttoned up close in a long gray surtout.

"Ah, very good!" said he, speaking a little nasally, and with his teeth
close, as is the habit of his countrymen.  "Monsieur was mayor?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you refused to post the proclamations of the Governor,
Bismarck-Bohlen?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good--very good."

I sat down, and, without any preamble, this Englishman ran on with
eight or ten questions: upon the requisitions, the pillaging, the
number of carriages and horses carried away into the interior; how many
had come back since the invasion; how many were still left in France;
what we thought of the Germans; if there was any chance of our agreeing
together: had we rather remain French, or become neutral, like the
Swiss.

He had all these questions in his head, and I went on answering,
without reflecting that it was a very strange thing to interrogate
people in this way.

George was laughing, and, when it was over, he said, "Now, my lord, you
may go on with your article."

The Englishman smiled, and said, "Yes, that will do!  I believe you
have spoken the truth."

We drank a glass of wine together, which George had found somewhere.

"This is good wine," said the Englishman.  "So the Prussians have not
taken everything."

"No, they have not discovered everything; we have a few good
hiding-places yet."

"Ah! exactly so--yes--I understand."

George wanted to question him too, but the Englishman did not answer as
fast as we; he thought well over his answers, before he would say yes
or no!

It was not from him that Cousin George had learned the latest
intelligence; it was from a heap of newspapers which the Englishman had
left upon the table the night before as he went to bed--English and
Belgian newspapers--which George had read hastily up to midnight: for
he had learned English in his travels, which our friend was not aware
of.

Besides the battle of Coulmiers, he had learned many other things: the
organization of an army in the North under General Bourbaki; the march
of the Germans upon Dijon; the insurrection at Marseilles; the noble
declaration of Gambetta against those who were accusing him of throwing
the blame of our disasters upon the army, and not upon its chiefs; and
especially the declaration of Prince Gortschakoff "that the Emperor of
Russia refused to be bound any longer by the treaty which was to
restrain him from keeping in the Black Sea more than a certain number
of large ships of war."

The Englishman had marked red crosses down this article; and George
told me by and by that these red crosses meant something very serious.

The Englishman had a very fine horse in the stable; we went out
together to see it; it was a tall chestnut, able no doubt to run like a
deer.

If I tell you these particulars, it is because we have since seen many
more English people, both men and women, all very inquisitive, and who
put questions to us, just like this one; whether to write articles, or
for their own information, I know not.

George assured me that the article writers spared no expense to earn
their pay honorably; that they went great distances--hundreds of
leagues--going to the fountain-head; that they would have considered
themselves guilty of robbing their fellow-countrymen, if they invented
anything: which, besides, would very soon be discovered, and would
deprive them of all credit in England.

I believe it; and I only wish news-hunters of equal integrity for our
country.  Instead of having newspapers full of long arguments, which
float before you like clouds, and out of which no one can extract the
least profit, we should get positive facts that would help us to clear
up our ideas: of which we are in great need.

So we thought we were rid of our Landwehr, when presently they
returned, having received counter orders, which seemed to us a very bad
sign.

George, who had just accompanied his Englishman back to Sarrebourg,
came into our house, and sat by the stove, deep in thought.  He had
never seemed to me so sad; when I asked him if he had received any bad
news, he answered: "No, I have heard nothing new; but what has happened
shows plainly that the German army of Metz has arrived in time to
prevent our troops from raising the blockade of Paris after the victory
of Coulmiers."

And all at once his anger broke out against the Dumouriez and the
Pichegrus, men without genius, who were selling their country to serve
a false dynasty.

"A week or a fortnight more, and we should have been saved."

He smote the table with his fist, and seemed ready to cry.  All at once
he went out, unable to contain himself any longer, and we saw him in
the moonlight cross the meadow behind and disappear into his house.

It was the middle of November; the frost grew more intense and hardened
the ground everywhere: every morning the trees were covered with
hoar-frost.

We were now compelled to do forced labor; not only to supply wood, but
also to go and cleave it for the Landwehr.  I paid Father Offran, who
supplied my place; it was an additional expense, and the day of ruin,
utter ruin, was drawing close.

Of course the Landwehr, offended at having been hissed all through the
village, had lost all consideration for us, and but for stringent
orders, they would have wrung our necks on the spot; every time they
were able to tell us a piece of bad news, they would come up laughing,
dropping the butt-ends of their rifles on the stone floor, and crying:
"Well, now, here's another crash!  There goes another stampede of
Frenchmen!  Orleans evacuated!  Champigny to be abandoned!  Capital!
all goes on right!  Now, then, you people, is that soup ready?  Hurry!
good news like these give one a good appetite!"

"Try to hold your tongues, if you can, pack of beggars," cried Grédel;
"we don't believe your lies."

Then they grinned again, and said: "There is no need you should believe
us, if only you get put into our basket; when you are there you will
believe!  Then look out!  If you stir a finger we'll nail you to the
wall like mangy cats.  Aha! did you laugh and hiss when you saw us
going? but there are more yet to come.  You will regret us,
Mademoiselle Grédel; you will regret us some day; you will cry, 'if we
had but our good Landwehr again!' but it will be too late."

What surprises me is that Grédel never seems to have thought of
poisoning them; luckily it was not the time of the year for the red
toadstools: besides, we were obliged to boil our soup in the same
kettle; or these wary people would have had their suspicions, and
obliged us to taste their meat, as they did at the Quatre Vents, the
Baraques du Bois de Chênes, and in several other places.

They then drew their lines closer and closer round the place: upon all
the roads which led to the advanced posts they placed guns, and watched
by them day and night; they regulated their range and line of fire by
day with pickets and with grooves cut in the ground, to enable them to
change its direction and sweep the roads and paths, even in the dark
nights, in case of an attack.

The snow was then falling in great flakes; all the country was covered
with snow, and often at midnight or at one or two in the morning, the
musketry opened, and they cried in the street: "A sortie! a sortie!"

And all the villagers, who still kept their cattle at home by order of
the new mayor Placiard, were compelled to drive them to a distance,
into the fields, to prevent the French, if they reached us, from
finding anything in the stables.

Ah! that abominable, good-for-nothing scoundrel Placiard, that famous
pillar of the Empire, what abominations he has perpetrated, what toils
has he undergone to merit the esteem of the Prussians!

Does it not seem sad that such thieves should sometimes quietly
terminate their existence in a good bed?




CHAPTER XII

About the end of November there happened an extraordinary thing, of
which I must give you an account.

On the first fall of snow, our Landwehr had built on the hill, in the
rear of their guns, huts of considerable size, covered with earth, open
to the south and closed against the north wind.  Under these they
lighted great fires, and every hour relieved guard.

They had also received from home immense packages of warm clothing,
blankets, cloaks, shirts, and woollen stockings; they called these
love-gifts.  Captain Floegel distributed these to his men, at his
discretion.

Now, it happened that one night, when the Landwehr lodging with us were
on guard, that I, knowing they would not return before day, had gone
down to shut the back door which opens upon the fields.  The moon had
set, but the snow was shining white, streaked with the dark shadows of
the trees; and just as I was going to lock up, what do I see in my
orchard behind the large pear-tree on the left?  A Turco with his
little red cap over his ear, his blue jacket corded and braided all
over, his belt and his gaiters.  There he was, leaning in the attitude
of attention, the butt-end of his rifle resting on the ground, his eyes
glowing like those of a cat.

[Illustration: THERE HE WAS, LEANING FORWARD TO LISTEN.]

He heard the door open, and turned abruptly round.

Then, glad to see one of our own men again, I felt my heart beat, and
gazing stealthily round for fear of the neighbors, I signed to him to
draw near.

All were asleep in the village; no lights were shining at the windows.

He came down in four or five paces, clearing the fences at a bound, and
entered the mill.

Immediately I closed the door again, and said: "Good Frenchman?"

He pressed my hand in the dark, and followed me into the back room,
where my wife and Grédel were still sitting up.

Imagine their astonishment!

"Here is a man from the town," I said: "he's a real Turco.  We shall
hear news."

At the same moment we observed that the Turco's bayonet was red, even
to the shank, and that the blood had even run down the barrel of his
rifle; but we said nothing.

This Turco was a fine man, dark brown, with a little curly beard, black
eyes, and white teeth, just as the apostles are painted.  I have never
seen a finer man.

He was not sorry to feel the warmth of a good fire.  Grédel having made
room for him, he took a seat, thanking her with a nod of his head, and
repeating: "Good Frenchman!"

I asked him if he was hungry; he said yes; and my wife immediately went
to fetch him a large basin of soup, which he enjoyed greatly.  She gave
him also a good slice of bread and of beef; but instead of eating it he
dropped it into his bag, asking us for salt and tobacco.

He spoke as these people all do--thou-ing us.  He even wanted to kiss
Grédel's hand.  She blushed, and asked him, without any ceremony,
before our faces, if he knew Jean Baptiste Werner?

"Jean Baptiste!" said he.  "Bastion No. 3--formerly African gunner.
Yes, I know him.  Good man! brave Frenchman!"

"He is not wounded?"

"No."

"Not ill?"

"No."

Then Grédel began to cry in her apron; and mother asked the Turco if he
knew Jacob Weber, of the 3d company of Mobiles; but the Turco did not
know our Jacob; he could only tell us that the Mobiles had lost very
few men, which comforted my wife and me.  Then he told us that a
captain in the Garde Mobile, a Jew named Cerfber, sent as a flag of
truce to Lützelbourg, had taken the opportunity to desert, and that the
German general, being disgusted at his baseness, had refused to receive
him, upon which the wretch had gone into Germany.  I was nowise
surprised at this.  I knew Cerfber; he was mayor of Niederwillen, at
four leagues from us, and more Bonapartist than Bonaparte himself.
Unable to surrender the rest, as his master had done at Sedan, he had
surrendered himself.

Grédel had gone out while the Turco was telling us these news; she
returned presently with a large quantity of provisions.  She had taken
all my tobacco, and begged the Turco to take it to Jean Baptiste and
Jacob.  She had not quite the face to say before me that it was for
Jean Baptiste alone; that would have been going a little too far; but
she said, "It is for the two."  The Turco promised to perform this
commission; then Grédel gave him several things for himself; but he
wanted especially salt, and fortunately we possessed enough to fill his
bag.  My wife stood sentinel in the passage.  Thank God there was no
stir for a whole hour; during which this Turco answered, as well as he
was able, all the questions we asked him.

We understood that there was much sickness in the town; that several
articles of consumption were utterly exhausted, among others, meat,
salt, and tobacco; and that the inhabitants were weary of being shut in
without any news from outside.

About one in the morning, the wind, having risen, was shaking the door,
and we fancied we could hear the Landwehr returning.  The Turco noticed
it, and made signs to us that he would go.

We could have wished to detain him, but the danger was too great.  He
therefore took up his rifle again, and asked to kiss my wife's hand,
just as the gypsies do in our country.  Then pointing to his bag, he
said: "For Jacob and Jean Baptiste!"

I took him back through the orchard.  The weather was frightful; the
air was full of snow, whirled into drifts by a stormy wind; but he knew
his way, and began by running with his body bending low as far as the
tall hedge on the left; a moment after he was out of sight.  I listened
a long while.  The watch-fires of the Landwehr were shining on the
hill, above Wéchem; their sentinels were challenging and answering each
other in the darkness; but not a shot was fired.

I returned.  My wife and Grédel seemed happy; and we all went to bed.

Next day we learned that two Landwehr had been found killed--one near
the Avenue des Dames, between the town and the Quatre Vents, the other
at the end of Piquet, both fathers of families.  The unfortunate men
had been surprised at their posts.

What a miserable thing is war!  The Germans have lost more men than we
have; but we will not be so cruel as to rejoice over this.

And now, if I am asked my opinion about the Turcos, against whom the
Germans have raised such an outcry, I answer that they are good men and
true!  Jacob and Jean Baptiste have received everything that we sent to
them.  This Turco's word was worth more than that of the lieutenant and
the feld-weibel who had promised to pay me for my wine.

No doubt, amongst the Turcos there are some bad fellows; but the
greater part are honest men, with a strong feeling of religion: men who
have known them at Phalsbourg and elsewhere acknowledge them to be men
of honor.  They have stolen nothing, robbed nobody, never insulted a
woman.  If they had campaigned on the other side of the Rhine, of
course they would have twisted the necks of ducks and hens, as all
soldiers do in an enemy's country: the Landwehr put no constraint upon
themselves in our country.  But the idea would never have occurred to
the Turcos, as it had to German officers and generals, of sending for
packs of Jews to follow them and buy up, wholesale, the linen,
furniture, clocks--in a word, anything they found in private
individuals' houses.  This is simple truth!  Monsieur de Bismarck may
insult the Turcos as much as he pleases before his German Parliament,
which is ready to say "Amen" every time he opens his mouth.  He might
as well not talk at all.  Thieves are bad judges of common honesty!  I
am aware that Monsieur le Prince de Bismarck thinks himself the first
politician in the world, because he has deceived a simpleton; but there
is a wide difference between a great man and a great dishonest man.  By
and by this will be manifest, to the great misfortune of Europe.

But it was a real comfort to have seen this Turco; and for several
days, when we were alone, my wife and Grédel talked of nothing else;
but sad reflections again got the upper hand.

No one can form an idea of the misery, the feeling of desolation which
takes possession of you, when days and weeks pass by in the midst of
enemies without the least word reaching you from the interior; then you
feel the strength of the hold that your native land has upon you.  The
Germans think to detach us from it by preventing us from learning what
is taking place there; but they are mistaken.  The less you speak the
more you think; and your indignation, your disgust, your hatred for
violence, force, and injustice is ever on the increase.  You conceive a
horror for those who have been the cause of such sufferings.  Time
brings no change; on the contrary, it deepens the wound: one curse
succeeds another; and the deepest desire left is either for an end of
all, or vengeance.

Besides, it is perfectly evident the Lorrainers and the Alsacians are a
bold, brave nation; and all the fine words in the world will not make
them forget the treatment they have suffered, after being surprised
defenceless.  They would reproach themselves as cowards, did they cease
to hope for their revenge.  I, Christian Weber, declare this, and no
honest man can blame me for it.  Abject wretches alone accept injustice
as a final dispensation; and we have ever God over us all, who forbids
us to believe that murder, fire, and robbery may and ought to prevail
over right and conscience.

Let us return to our story.

Cousin George had seen in the Englishman's newspapers that the
circulation of the _Indépendance Belge_ and the _Journal de Genève_ had
doubled and trebled since the commencement of the war, because they
filled the place of all the other journals which used to be received
from Paris; and without loss of time he had written to Brussels to
subscribe.

The first week, having received no answer, he had sent the money in
Prussian notes in a second letter; for we had at that time only
Prussian thalers in paper, with which the Landwehr paid us for whatever
they did not take by force.  We had no great confidence in this paper,
but it was worth the trial.

The newspaper arrived.  It was the first we had seen for four months,
and any one may understand the joy with which George came to tell me
this good news.

Every evening from that time I went to hear the newspapers read at
Cousin George's.  We could hardly understand anything at first, for at
every line we met with new names.  Chanzy had the chief command upon
the Loire, Faidherbe in the north.  And these two men, without any
soldiers besides Mobiles and volunteers, held the open country.  They
even gained considerable advantages over an enemy that far outnumbered
them; whilst the marshals of the Empire had suffered themselves to be
vanquished and annihilated in three weeks, with our best troops.

This shows that, in victories, generals have no more than half the
credit.

Of all the old generals, Bourbaki was the only one left.

As for Garibaldi, we knew him, and we could tell by the restless
movements of our Landwehr that he was approaching our mountains about
Belfort.  He was the hope of our country: all our young men were going
to join him.

We also learned that the Government was divided between Tours and
Paris; that Gambetta was bearing all the burden of the defence of the
country, as Minister of War; that he was everywhere at once, to
encourage the dispirited; that he had set up the chief place of
instruction for our young soldiers at Toulouse, and that the Prussians
were pursuing their horrible course in the invaded countries with
renewed fury; that a party of francs-tireurs having surprised a few
Uhlans at Nemours, a column of Germans had surrounded the town on the
next day, and set fire to it to the music of their bands, compelling
the members of the committee for the defence to be present at this
abominable act; that M. de Bismarck had laid hands upon certain
bourgeois of the interior, in reprisal for the captures made by our
ships five hundred leagues away in the North Sea; that Ricciotti
Garibaldi, having defeated the Prussians at Chatillon-sur-Seine, those
atrocious wretches had delivered the innocent town over to plunder, and
laid it under contribution for a million of francs; that respectable
persons belonging to the Grand Duchy of Baden, private individuals,
were crossing the Rhine with horses and carts to come and pillage
Alsace with impunity--all the towns and villages being occupied by
their troops.  In a word, many other things of the kind; which plainly
prove that with the Prussians, war is an honest means of growing rich,
and getting possession of the property of the inoffensive inhabitants.

At St. Quentin, one of their chiefs, the Colonel de Kahlden, gave
public notice to the inhabitants, that "if a shot was fired upon a
German soldier, _six inhabitants should be shot_; and that every
individual compromised or _suspected_ would be punished with death."

Everywhere, everywhere these great philosophers plundered and burned
without mercy whatever towns or villages dared resist!

George said that these beings were not raised above the beasts of prey,
and that education only does for them what spiked collars do for
fighting dogs.

We also heard of the capitulation of Thionville, after a terrible
bombardment, in which the Prussians had refused to allow the women and
children to leave the place!  We heard of the first encounters of
Faidherbe in the north with Manteuffel; and the battles of Chanzy with
Frederick Charles, near Orleans.

In spite of the inferiority of our numbers, and the inexperience of our
troops, we often got the upper hand.

These news had restored us to hope.  Unhappily, the heaviest blow of
all was to come.  Phalsbourg, utterly exhausted by famine, was about to
surrender, after a resistance of five months.

Oh! my ancient town of Phalsbourg, what affliction sank into our
hearts, when, on the evening of the 9th December, we heard your heavy
guns fire one after another, as if for a last appeal to France to come
to your rescue!  Oh! what were then our sufferings, and what tears we
shed!

"Now," said George, "it is all over!  They are calling aloud to France,
our beloved France, unable to come!  It is like a ship in distress, by
night, in the open sea, firing her guns for assistance, and no one
hears: she must sink in the deep."

Ah! my old town of Phalsbourg, where we used to go to market; where we
used to see our own soldiers--our red-trousered soldiery, our merry
Frenchmen!  We shall never more see behind our ramparts any but heavy
Germans and rough Prussians!  And so it is over!  The earth bears no
longer the same children; and men whom we never knew tell us, "You are
in our custody: we are your masters!"

Can it be possible?  No! ancient fortress of Vauban, you shall be
French again: "Nursery of brave men," as the first Bonaparte called
you.  Let our sons come to manhood, and they shall drive from thy walls
these lumpish fellows who dare to talk of Germanizing you!

But how our hearts bled on that day!  Every one went to hide himself as
far back in his house as he could, murmuring, "Oh! my poor Phalsbourg,
we cannot help thee; but if our life could deliver thee, we would give
it."

Yes!  I have lived to behold this, and it is the most terrible
sensation I have ever experienced: the thought of meeting Jacob again
was no comfort; Grédel herself was listening with pale cheeks, and
counting the reports from second to second; and then the tears fell and
she cried: "It is over!"

Next day, all the roads were covered with German and Prussian officers
galloping rapidly to the place; the report ran that the entry would
take place the same evening; every one was preparing a small stock of
provisions for his son, his relations, his friends, whom he dreaded
never more to see alive.

On the morning of the 11th of December, leave was given to start for
the town; the sentinels posted at Wéchem had orders to allow
foot-passengers to pass.

Phalsbourg, with its fifteen hundred Mobiles and its sixty gunners,
disdained to capitulate; it surrendered no rifles, no guns, no military
stores, no eagles, as Bazaine had done at Metz!  The Commander Taillant
had not said to his men: "Let us, above all, for the reputation of our
army, avoid all acts of indiscipline, such as the destruction of arms
and material of war; since, according to military usage, strong places
and arms will return to France when peace is signed."  No! quite the
contrary; he had ordered the destruction of whatever might prove useful
to the enemy: to drown the gunpowder, smash rifles, spike the guns,
burn up the bedding in the casemates; and when all this was done, he
had sent a message to the German general: "We have nothing left to eat!
To-morrow I will open the gates!  Do what you please with me!"

Here was a man, indeed!

And the Germans ran, some laughing, others astonished, gazing at the
walls which they had won without a fight: for they have taken almost
every place without fighting; they have shelled the poor inhabitants
instead of storming the walls; they have starved the people.  They may
boast of having burnt more towns and villages, and killed more women
and children in this one campaign, than all the other nations in all
the wars of Europe since the Revolution.

But, to be sure, they were a religious people, much attached to the
doctrines of the Gospel, and who sing hymns with much feeling.  Their
Emperor especially, after every successive bombardment, and every
massacre--whilst women, children, and old men are weeping around their
houses destroyed by the enemy's shells, and from the battle-fields
strewn with heaps of dead are rising the groans and cries of thousands
and thousands of sufferers whose lives are crushed, whose flesh is
torn, whose bodies are rent and bleeding!'--their Emperor, the
venerable man, lifts his blood-stained hands to heaven and thanks God
for having permitted him to commit these abominable deeds!  Does he
look upon God as his accomplice in crime?

Barbarian! one day thou shalt know that in the sight of the Eternal,
hypocrisy is an aggravation of crime.

On the 11th of December, then, early in the morning, my wife, Grédel,
Cousin George, Marie Anne and myself, having locked up our houses,
started, each carrying a little parcel under our arms, to go and
embrace our children and our friends--if they yet survived.

The snow was melting, a thick fog was covering the face of the country,
and we walked along in single file and in silence, gazing intently upon
the German batteries which we saw for the first time, in front of
Wéchem, by Gerbershoff farm, and at the _Arbre Vert_.

Such desolation!  Everything was cut down around the town; no more
summer-arbors, no more gardens or orchards, only the vast, naked
surface of snow-covered ground, with its hollows all bare; the bullet
marks on the ramparts, the embrasures all destroyed.

A great crowd of other village people preceded and followed us; poor
old men, women, and a few children; they were walking straight on
without paying any attention to each other: all thought of the fate of
those they loved, which they would learn within an hour.

Thus we arrived at the gate of France; it stood open and unguarded.
The moment we entered, the ruins were seen; houses tottering, streets
demolished, here a window left alone, there up in the air a chimney
scarcely supported; farther on some doorsteps and no door.  In every
direction the bombshells had left their tracks.

God of heaven! did we indeed behold such devastation? we did in truth.
We all saw it: it was no dream!

The cold was piercing.  The townspeople, haggard and pale, stared at us
arriving; recognitions took place, men and women approached and took
each other by the hand.

"Well?"  "Well," was the reply in a hollow whisper, in the midst of the
street encumbered with blackened beams of wood.  "Have you suffered
much?"  "Ah! yes."

This was enough: no need for another word; and then we would proceed
farther.  At every street corner a new scene of horror began.

Catherine and I were seeking Jacob; no doubt Grédel was looking for
Jean Baptiste.

We saw our poor Mobiles passing by, scarcely recognizable after those
five months.  All through the fearful cold these unhappy men had had
nothing on but their summer blouses and linen trousers.  Many of them
might have escaped and gained their villages, for the gates had stood
open since the evening before; but not a man thought of doing so; it
was not supposed that Mobiles would be treated like regular soldiers.

On the _place_, in front of the fallen church filled with its own
ruins, we heard, for the first time, that the garrison were prisoners
of war.

The cafés Vacheron, Meyer, and Hoffmann, riddled with balls, were
swarming with officers.

We were gazing, not knowing whom to ask after Jacob, when a cry behind
us made us turn round; and there was Grédel in the arms of Jean
Baptiste Werner!  Then I kept silence; my wife also.  Since she would
have it so, well, so let it be; this matter concerned her much more
than it did us.

Jean Baptiste, after the first moment, looked embarrassed at seeing us;
he approached us with a pale face, and as we spoke not a word to him,
George shook him by the hand, and cried: "Jean Baptiste, I know that
you have behaved well during this siege; we have learned it all with
pleasure: didn't we, Christian? didn't we, Catherine?"

What answer could we make?  I said "yes"--and mother, with tears in her
eyes, cried: "Jean Baptiste, is Jacob not wounded?"

"No, Madame Weber; we have always been very comfortable together.
There is nothing the matter.  I'll fetch him: only come in somewhere."

"We are going to the Café Hoffmann," said she.  "Try to find him, Jean
Baptiste."  And as he was turning in the direction of the
mayoralty-house:

"There," said he, "there he is coming round the corner by the chemist
Rèbe's shop."  And we began, to cry "Jacob!"

And our lad ran, crossing the _place_.

A minute after, we were in each other's arms.

He had on a coarse soldier's cloak, and canvas trousers; his cheeks
were hollow; he stared at us, and stammered: "Oh, is it you?  You are
not all dead?"

He looked stupefied; and his mother, holding him, murmured: "It is he!"

She would not relinquish her hold upon him, and wiped her eyes with her
apron.

Grédel and Jean Baptiste followed arm-in-arm, with George and Marie
Anne.  We entered the Café Hoffmann together; we sat round a table in
the room at the left, and George ordered some coffee, for we all felt
the need of a little warmth.

None of us wished to speak; we were downcast, and held each other by
the hand, gazing in each other's faces.

The young officers of the Mobiles were talking together in the next
room; we could hear them saying that not one would sign the engagement
not to serve again during the campaign; that they would all go as
prisoners of war, and would accept no other lot than that of their men.

This idea of seeing our Jacob go off as a prisoner of war, almost broke
our hearts, and my wife began to sob bitterly, with her head upon the
table.

Jacob would have wished to come back to the mill along with us; I could
see this by his countenance; but he was not an officer, and his
_parole_ was not asked for.  And, in spite of all, hearing those
spirited young men, who were sacrificing their liberty to discharge a
duty, I should myself have said "No: a man must be a man!"

Werner was talking with my cousin: they spoke in whispers; having, no
doubt, secret matters to discuss.  I saw George slip something into his
hand.  What could it be?  I cannot say; but all at once Jean Baptiste
rising from his seat and kissing Grédel without any ceremony before our
faces, said that he was on service; that he would not see us again very
soon, as after the muster their march would begin, so that we should
have to say good-by at once.

He held out both his hands to my wife and then to Marie Anne, after
which he went out with George and Grédel, leaving us much astonished.

Jacob and Marie Anne remained with us; in a couple of minutes Grédel
and my cousin returned; Grédel, whose eyes were red, sat by the side of
Marie Anne without speaking, and we saw that her basket of provisions
was gone.

The stir upon the _place_ became greater and greater.  The drums beat
the assembly, the officers of the Mobiles were coming out.  I then
thought I would ask Jacob what had become of Mathias Heitz; he told us
that the wretched coward had been trembling with fright the whole time
of the siege, and that at last he had fallen ill of fear.  Grédel did
not turn her head to listen; she would have nothing to do with him!
And, in truth, on hearing this, I felt I should prefer giving our
daughter to our ragman's son than to this fellow Mathias.

The review was then commencing under the tall trees on the _place_, and
Jacob appeared with his comrades.  No sadder spectacle will ever be
seen than that of our poor lads, about half a hundred Turcos and a few
Zouaves, the remnants of Froeschwiller, all haggard and pale, and their
clothes falling to pieces.  They were unarmed, having destroyed their
arms before opening the gates.

Presently Jacob ran to us, crying that they were ordered to their
barracks, and that they would have to start next day before twelve.

Then his eyes filled with tears.  His mother and I handed him our
parcels, in which we had enclosed three good linen shirts, a pair of
shoes almost new, woollen stockings, and a strong pair of trousers.

I was wearing upon my shoulders my travelling cape; I placed it upon
his.  Then I slipped into his pocket a small roll of thalers, and
George gave him two louis.  After this, the tears and lamentations of
the women recommenced; we were obliged to promise to return on the
morrow.

The garrison was defiling down the street; Jacob ran to fall in, and
disappeared with the rest, near the barracks.

As for Jean Baptiste Werner, we saw him no more.

The German officers were coming and going up and down the town to
distribute their troops amongst the townspeople.  It was twelve
o'clock, and we returned to our village, sadder and more distressed
than ever.

And now we knew that Jacob was safe; but we knew also that he was going
to be carried, we could not tell where, to the farthest depths of
Germany.

My wife arrived home quite ill; the damp weather, her anxiety, her
anguish of mind, had cast her down utterly.  She went to bed with a
shivering fit, and could not return next day to town, nor Grédel, who
was taking care of her, so I went alone.

Orders had come to take the prisoners to Lützelbourg.  On reaching the
square, near the chemist Rèbe's shop, I saw them all in their ranks,
moving by twos down the road.  The inhabitants had closed their
shutters, not to witness this humiliation; for Hessian soldiers, with
arms shouldered, were escorting them: our poor boys were advancing
between them, their heads hanging sorrowfully down.

I stopped at the chemist's corner, and waited, being unable to discern
Jacob in the midst of that crowd.  All at once I recognized him, and I
cried, "Jacob!"  He was going to throw himself into my arms; but the
Hessians repulsed me.  We both burst into tears, and I went on walking
by the side of the escort, crying, "Courage! ... Write to us....  Your
mother is not quite well....  She could not come....  It is not much!"

He answered nothing; and many others who were there had their friends
and relations before or behind them.

We wanted to accompany them to Lützelbourg; unhappily, at the gate the
Prussians had posted sentinels, who stopped us, pointing their bayonets
at us.  They would not even allow us to press our children's hands.

On all sides were cries: "Adieu, Jean!" "Adieu, Pierre!" and they
replied: "Adieu!  Farewell, father!"  "Adieu!  Farewell, mother!" and
then the sighs, the sobs, the tears....

[Illustration: "GOOD-BY, MY FATHER!  GOOD-BY, MY MOTHER!"]

Ah! the Plébiscite, the Plébiscite!

I was compelled to stay there an hour; at last they allowed me to pass.
I resumed my way home, my heart rent with anguish.  I could see, hear
nothing but the cry, "Adieu!  Adieu!" of all that crowd; and I thought
that men were made to make each other miserable; that it was a pity we
were ever born; that for a few days' happiness, acquired by long and
painful toil, we had years of endless misery; and that the people of
the earth, through their folly, their idleness, their wickedness, their
trust in consummate rogues, deserved what they got.

Yes, I could have wished for another deluge: I should have cared less
to see the waters rise from the ends of Alsace and cover our mountains,
than to be bound under the yoke of the Germans.

In this mood I reached home.

I took care not to tell my wife all that had happened; on the contrary
I told her that I had embraced Jacob in my arms for her and for us all;
that he was full of spirits, and that he would soon write to us.




CHAPTER XIII

We were now rid of our Landwehr, who were garrisoned at Phalsbourg, but
a part of whom were sent off into the interior.  They were indignant,
and declared that if they had known that they were to be sent farther,
the blockade would have lasted longer; that they would have let the
cows, the bullocks, and the bread find their way in, many a time, in
spite of their chiefs; and that it was infamous to expose them to new
dangers when every man had done his part in the campaign.

There was no enthusiasm in them; but, all the same, they marched in
step in their ranks, and were moved some on Belfort, some on Paris.

We learned, through the German newspapers, that they had severer
sufferings to endure round Belfort than with us; that the garrison made
sorties, and drove them several leagues away; that their dead bodies
were rotting in heaps, behind the hedges, covered with snow and mud;
that the commander, Denfert, gave them many a heavy dig in the ribs;
and every day people coming from Alsace told us that such an one of the
poor fellows whom we had known had just been struck down by a ball,
maimed by a splinter or a shell, or bayoneted by our Mobiles.  We could
not help pitying them, for they all had five or six children each, of
whom they were forever talking; and naturally, for when the parent-bird
dies the brood is lost.

And all this for the honor and glory of the King of Prussia, of
Bismarck, of Moltke, and a few heroes of the same stamp, not one of
whom has had a scratch in the chances of war.

How can one help shrugging one's shoulders and laughing inwardly at
seeing these Germans, with all their education, greater fools than
ourselves?  They have won!  That is to say, the survivors; for those
who are buried, or who have lost their limbs, have no great gain to
boast of, and can hardly rejoice over the success of the enterprise.
They have gained--what?  The hatred of a people who had loved them;
they have gained that they will be obliged to fight every time their
lords or masters give the order; they have gained that they can say
Alsace and Lorraine are German, which is absolutely no gain whatever;
and besides this they have gained the envy of a vast number of people,
and the distrust of a vast many more, who will end by agreeing together
to fall upon them in a body, and treat them to fire and slaughter and
bombardment, of which they have set us the example.

This is what the peasants, the artisans, and the bourgeois have gained:
as for the chiefs, they have won some a title, some a pension or an
épaulette: others have the satisfaction of saying, "I am the great
So-and-So!  I am William, Emperor of Germany; a crown was set on my
head at Versailles, whilst thousands of my subjects were biting the
dust!"

Alas! notwithstanding all this, these people will die, and in a hundred
years will be recognized as barbarians; their names will be inscribed
on the roll of the plagues of the human race, and there they will
remain to the end of time.

But what is the use of reasoning with such philosophers as these?  In
time they will acknowledge the truth of what I say!

Now to our story again.

They were fighting furiously round Belfort; our men did not drop off
asleep in casements; they occupied posts at a distance all round the
place: their sortie from Bourcoigne, and their slaughter of the
Bavarians at Haute-Perche, were making a great noise in Alsace.

We learned from the _Indépendance_ the battles of Chanzy at Vendôme
against the army of Mecklenburg; the fight by General Crémer at Nuits
against the army of Von Werder; the retreat of Manteuffel toward
Amiens, after having overwhelmed Rouen with forced contributions; the
bayonet attack upon the villages around Pont-Noyelles, in which
Faidherbe had defeated the enemy; and especially the grand measures of
Gambetta, who had at last dissolved the Councils-General named by the
Prefects of the Empire, and replaced them by really Republican
departmental commissions.

Cousin George highly approved of this step.  This was of more
importance in his eyes than the decrees of our Prussian Préfet Henckel
de Bonnermark; though he had inflicted heavy fines upon the fathers and
mothers of the young men who had left home to join the French armies,
and had laid Lorraine, already ruined by the invasion, under a
contribution of 700,000 livres to compensate the losses suffered by the
German mercantile marine; plundering decrees which went nigh to tearing
the bread out of our mouths.

Then George passed on to the campaign of Chanzy; for what could be
grander than this struggle of a young, inexperienced army, scarcely
organized, against forces double their number, commanded by the great
Prussian general who had been victorious at Woerth, Sedan, and Metz,
over the whole of the Imperial troops?

George especially admired the noble protest of Chanzy, proclaiming to
the world the ferocity of the Germans, and pointing out with pride the
falsehoods of their generals, who invariably claimed the victory.

"The Commander-in-Chief lays before the army the subjoined protest,
which he transmits, under a flag of truce, to the commander of the
Prussian troops at Vendôme, with the assurance that his indignation
will be shared by all, as well as his desire to take signal revenge for
such insults.

"To the Prussian commander at Vendôme:

"I am informed that unjustifiable acts of violence have been committed
by troops under your orders upon the unoffending inhabitants of St.
Calais.  In spite of our humane treatment of your sick and wounded,
your officers have exacted money and commanded pillage.  Such conduct
is an abuse of power, which will weigh heavily upon your consciences,
and which the patriotism of our people will enable them to endure; but
what I cannot permit is, that you should add to these injuries insults
which you know full well to be entirely gratuitous.

"You have asserted that we were defeated; that assertion is false.  We
have beaten you and held you in check since the 4th of this month.  You
have presumed to attach the name of coward to men who are prevented
from answering you; pretending that they were coerced by the Government
of National Defence, which, as you said, compelled them to resist when
they wanted peace, and you were offering it.  I deny this: I deny it by
the right given me by the resistance of entire France and this army
which confronts you, and which you have been hitherto unable to
vanquish.  This communication reaffirms what our resistance ought
already to have taught you.  Whatever may be the sacrifices still left
us to endure, we will struggle to the very end, without truce or pity;
since now we are resisting the attacks not of loyal and honorable
enemies but of devastating bands who aim solely at the ruin and
disgrace of a nation, which itself is striving to maintain its honor,
rank, and independence.  To the generous treatment we have accorded to
your prisoners and wounded, your reply is insolence, fire, and plunder.
I therefore protest, with deep indignation, in the name of humanity and
the rights of men, which you will trample underfoot.

"The present order will be read before the troops at three consecutive
muster-calls.

"CHANZY, _Commander-in-Chief_,
  "HEAD-QUARTERS, _Le Mans, 26th December, 1870._"


These are the words of an honorable man and a patriot, words to make a
man lift up his head.

And as Manteuffel, whose only merit consists in having been during his
youth the boon companion of the pious William; as this old courtier
followed the same system as Frederick Charles and Mecklenburg, of
lowering us to raise themselves, and to get their successes cheap;
General Faidherbe also obliged him to abate his pride after the affair
of Pont-Noyelles.

"The French army have left in the hands of the enemy only a few
sailors, surprised in the village of Daours.  It has kept its
positions, and has waited in vain for the enemy until two o'clock in
the afternoon of the next day."

This was plain speaking, and it was clear on which side good faith was
to be looked for.

Thus, after having opposed a million of men to 300,000 conscripts,
these Germans were even now obliged to lie in order not to discourage
their armies.

Of course they could not but prevail in the end: France had had no time
to prepare anew, to arm, and to recover herself after this disgraceful
capitulation of the _honest man_ and his friend Bazaine; but still she
resisted with terrible energy, and the Prussians at last became anxious
for peace too, and wished for it, perhaps, even more than ourselves.

The proof of this is the numberless petitions of the Germans entreating
King William to bombard Paris.

Humane Germans, fathers of families, pious men, seated quietly by their
counters at Hamburg, Cologne, or Berlin, in every town and village of
Germany, eating and drinking heartily, warming their fat legs before
the fire during this winter of unexampled severity, cried to their king
at Christmas time to bombard Paris, and set fire to the houses--to kill
and burn fathers and mothers of families like themselves, but reduced
to famine in their own dwellings!

Have any but the Germans ever done the like?

We too have besieged German towns, but never have petitions been sent
up like this under the Republic, or under the Empire, to ask our
soldiers to do more injury than war between brave men requires.  And
since that period we have never uselessly shelled houses inhabited by
inoffensive persons; and even when we have had to bombard walled towns,
warning was given, as at Odessa and everywhere else, to give helpless
people time to depart for the interior, if they did not want to run the
risk of meeting with stray bullets; and permission was given to old
men, women, and children to come out--a privilege never granted by the
Prussians.

Ah! the French may not be so pious, so learned, and so good as the
_good German people_, but they have better hearts and feelings of
compassion; they have less of the Gospel upon their lips, but they have
it in the bottoms of their souls.  They are not hypocrites, and
therefore we Alsacians and Lorrainers had rather remain French than
belong to the _good German people_, and be like them.

Indignities without a precedent have been committed by them:
"Shell--bombard--burn, in the name of Heaven!  Set fire everywhere with
petroleum bombs!--You are too gracious a king!--Your scruples betray
too much weakness for this Babylon: Bombard quick: Bombardments have
succeeded better than anything else.  Sire, your good and faithful
people entreat you to bombard everything--leave nothing standing!"

Oh! scoundrels!--rascals!--if you have so often played the saint for
fifty years; if you have talked so edifyingly about friendship,
brotherhood, and the alliance of nations, it was because you did not
then think yourselves the strongest; now that you think you are, you
piously bombard women, old men, and children, in the name of the
Saviour!  Faugh! it is simply disgusting!

Every time that Cousin George read these assassins' petitions, he would
spring off his chair and cry: "Now I know what to think of fanatics of
every religion.  These men have no need to play the hypocrite: their
religion does not oblige them to it.  Well, they play the Jesuit for
the love of it, better than we do by profession.  May they be execrated
and despised perpetually."

Then he dilated with much warmth of feeling upon the kind reception
which the Parisians, in former days, used to accord to the Germans, for
forty years and more.  Men who came to seek a livelihood among us,
without a penny, lean, humble, half-clad, with a little bundle of old
rags under their arms, asking for credit, even in George's and Marie
Anne's little inn, for a basin of broth, a bit of meat, and a glass of
wine, were kindly received; they were cheered up, and situations found
for them: everybody was anxious to put them in the right way, to
explain to them what they did not know.  Soon they grew fat and
flourishing, and gained assurance; by servility they would win the
confidence of the head-clerk, who showed them all about the business;
and then some fine morning it was noised about that the head-clerk was
discharged and the German was in his place.  He had had a private
interview with the head partner, and had proposed to do the work for
half the salary.  Of course the partners are always glad to have good
workmen, humble and obsequious, and, above all, cheap.  George had
witnessed this fifty times.

But people did not get angry; they would say,

"The poor fellow must earn a living somehow.  The other is a Frenchman:
he will very soon secure another place."

And it was thus that the Germans slipped quietly into the shoes of
those who had received them kindly and taught them their trade.

A few old clerks used to get angry; but they were always held to be in
the wrong.  "_That good German_" was justified!  He had not meddled;
everything had gone on simply and naturally.

And twenty, thirty, fifty thousand Germans used thus to come and
prosper in Paris; and then they would get a holiday to take a turn home
and exhibit the flesh and fat they had gained, and their gold trinkets.

If they happened to be professors of languages or newspaper
correspondents, they were sure to break out down there against the
corruption of manners in this "modern Babylon."  Great hulking fellows
they were, with long hooded cloaks, and gold or silver spectacles, who
had scandalized even their doorkeepers by bringing home night after
night "princesses" of Mabile and elsewhere, singing, drinking like a
sponge, shaking all the house, and preventing people from sleeping;
bringing, besides, other colleagues of the same stamp, and leading
disgraceful lives!

But it is the fashion in Germany to cry out against "modern Babylon."
It flatters the secret envy of the Germans, and establishes the
character of the speaker for seriousness, gravity, and influence; as a
man worthy of every consideration, and who may hope--if his situation
in Paris is permanent--for the hand of "Herr Rector's" or "Herr
Doctor's" fair daughter: for in that country they are all doctors in
something or other.  He had gone off as cold and comfortless as the
stones in the street; he would have become a school-master, or a small
clerk at a couple of hundred thalers all his life, in old Germany.  He
weighed heavily upon his poor father, encumbered with a dozen children;
but he had grown fat, well-feathered, and well-trained in Paris; and
there he is now virtuously indignant against our own townswomen:
against the degenerate race which has given him his daily bread, and
pulled him out of the mire, instead of kicking him downstairs.

This German fellow used to be republican, socialist, communist, etc.
He had fled from Cologne, or elsewhere, in consequence of the events of
1848.  Nothing in our opinion was sufficiently strong, decided, or
advanced for him.  He spouted about his sacrifices for the universal
Republic, his terrible campaign in the Duchy of Baden against the
Prussians, the loss of his place, of his property.  We thought, what
sufferings he has endured!  Surely, the Germans are the first Democrats
in the world!

But now this very same gentleman is the most faithful servant of his
Majesty William, King of Prussia, Emperor of Germany.  No doubt he
talks at Berlin of the sacrifices which he has made to the noble cause
of Germany, the battles he has fought in the public-houses amongst the
broken bottles of beer which he has been swallowing by the dozen, to
reclaim old Alsace, where lie deep the roots of the Germanic tongue.
He abounds in indignation against the "modern Babylon;" his name stands
at the head of the earliest petitions that Babylon should be burned,
till nothing but ashes were left: that that race of madmen should be
exterminated; and as during his residence in France he has rendered
police services to Bismarck, he is pretty sure to obtain a post in
Alsace-Lorraine, where all these old German spies are swooping down to
Germanize us.

Thus spoke George, in his indignation; and Marie Anne, after listening
to him, said: "Ah, it is too true!  Those men did deceive us; and they
did not even pay their debts.  Some fine morning, when their bill had
run up, three-fourths of them would make a start, and they were never
heard of again.  I have never had any confidence in any of them, except
the crossing-sweepers and the shoe-blacks: one knew where to find them;
but as for the professors, the newspaper correspondents, the inventors,
the book-worms--they have done us too many bad turns; and they were too
overbearing.  They were filled with hatred and envy of our nation."

Since the departure of the Landwehr, we were able to speak more freely:
those sulky eavesdroppers were no longer spying upon us, and we felt
the relief.

Paris, as we saw in the _Indépendance_, was making sorties.  The Gardes
Mobiles and the National Guards were being drilled and becoming better
skilled in the use of arms.  Our sailors, in the forts, were admirable.
But the Germans grew stronger from day to day; they had brought such
enormous guns--called Krupp's--that the railways were unable to bear
them, the tunnels were not high enough to give them passage, and the
bridges gave way under their ponderous mass.  This proves that if the
bombardment had not yet commenced, in spite of the innumerable
petitions of _the good Germans_, it was not for want of will on the
part of his Majesty King William, Messieurs Moltke, Bismarck, and all
those good men.  Oh, no! our forts and our sorties hampered them a good
deal in gaining their positions!

At last, about the end of December, "by the grace of God," as the
Emperor William said, they began by bombarding a few forts, and were
soon enabled to reach houses, hospitals, churches, and museums.

George and Marie Anne knew all these places by name, and these
ferocious acts drew from them cries of horror.  I, my wife, and Grédel
could not understand these accounts: having never been in Paris, we
could not form an idea of it.

The German news-writers knew them, however; for daily they told us how
great a misfortune it was to be obliged to shell such rich libraries,
such beautiful galleries of pictures, such magnificent monuments, and
gardens so richly stocked with plants and rare collections; that it
made their hearts bleed: they professed themselves inconsolable at
being driven to such an extremity by the evil dispositions of those who
presumed to defend their property, their homes, their wives, their
children, contrary to every principle of justice!  They pitied the
French for their want of common-sense; they said that their brains were
addled; that they were in their dotage, and uttered similar absurdities.

But every time that they lost men, their fury rose: "The Germans are a
sacred race!  Kill Germans! a superior race! it is a high crime.  The
French, the Swiss, the Danes, the Dutch, Belgians, Poles, Hungarians,
even the Russians, are destined to be successively devoured by the
Germans."  I have heard this with my own ears!  Yes, the Russians, too,
they cannot dispense with the Germans; their manufactures, their trade,
their sciences come to them from Germany; they, too, belong to an
inferior race.  The renowned Gortschakoff is unworthy to dust the boots
of Monsieur Bismarck, and the Emperor of Russia is most fortunate in
being allied by marriage to the Emperor William: it is a glorious
prerogative for him!

The captain, Floegel, used often to repeat these things; and besides,
the Germans all say the same at this time; you have but to listen to
them: they are too strong now to need to hide their ambition.  They
think they are conferring a great honor upon us Alsacians and
Lorrainers in acknowledging us as cousins, and gathering us to
themselves out of love.  We were a superior race in "that degenerate
France;" but we are about to become little boys again amongst the noble
German people.  We are the last new-comers into Germany, and shall
require time to acquire the noble German virtues: to become hypocrites,
spies, bombarders, plunderers; to learn to receive slaps and kicks
without winking.  But what would you have?  You cannot regenerate a
people in a day.

The Prussians had announced that Paris would surrender after an
eight-days' bombardment; but as the Parisians held out; as there were
passing by Saverne innumerable convoys of wounded, scorched, maimed,
and sick by thousands; as General Faidherbe had gained a victory in the
North, the victory of Bapaume, in which we had driven the Prussians
from the field of battle all covered with their dead, and in which the
enemy had left in our hands not only all their wounded, but a great
number of prisoners; as the inhabitants of Paris had only one fault to
find with General Trochu, that he did not lead them out to the great
battle, and they were raising the cry of "victory or death;" since
Chanzy, repulsed at Le Mans, was falling back in good order, while in
the midst of the deep snows of January and the severest cold, Bourbaki
was still advancing upon Belfort; and Garibaldi with his francs-tireurs
was not losing courage; since the Germans were suffering from
exhaustion; and it takes but an hour, a minute, to turn all the chances
against one; and if Faidherbe had gained his victory nearer to Paris a
great sortie would have ensued, which might have entirely changed the
face of things--for these and other reasons, I suppose, all at once
there was much talk of humanity, mildness, peace; of the convocation of
an assembly at Bordeaux, where the true representatives of the nation
might settle everything, and restore order to our unhappy France.

As soon as these rumors began to spread, George said that Alsace and
German Lorraine were to be sacrificed; that our egotists had come to an
understanding with the Germans; that all our defeats had been unable to
cast us down, and the Prussians were better pleased than ourselves to
come to an end of it, for they needed peace, having no reserves left to
throw into the scale; that Gambetta's enthusiasm and courage might at
once win over the most timid, and that then the Germans would be lost,
because a people that rises in a body, and at the same time possesses
arms and munitions of war in a third of our provinces, such a nation in
the long run would crush all resistance.

I could say nothing.  Even to-day I do not know what might have
happened.  When Cousin George spoke, I was of his opinion; and then,
left to my own reflections, when I saw that immense body of prisoners
delivered by Bonaparte and Bazaine all at once; all our arms
surrendered at Metz and Strasbourg, and our fortresses fallen one after
another; then the ill-will, to say the least of all the former
place-holders under the Empire, three-fourths of whom were retaining
their posts--I thought it quite possible that we might wage against the
Germans a war much more dangerous than the first; that we might destroy
many more of the enemy at the same time with ourselves; but, if I had
been told to choose, I should have found it hard to decide.

Of course, if the Prussians had been defeated in the interior, before
abandoning our country, they would have ruined us utterly, and set fire
to every village.  I have myself several times heard a _Hauptmann_ at
Phalsbourg say, "You had better pray for us!  For woe to you, if we
should be repulsed!  All that you have hitherto suffered would be but a
joke.  We would not leave one stone upon another in Alsace and
Lorraine.  That would be our defensive policy.  So pray for the success
of our armies.  If we should be obliged to retire, you would be much to
be pitied!"

I can hear these words still.

But I would not have minded even that: I would have sacrificed house,
mill, and all, if we could only have finally been victorious and
remained French; but I was in doubt.  Misery makes a man lose, not
courage, but confidence; and confidence is half the battle won.

About that time we received Jacob's first letter; he was at Rastadt,
and I need not tell you what a relief it was to his mother to think
that she could go and see him in one day.

Here is the letter, which I copy for you:


"MY DEAR FATHER AND MY DEAR MOTHER,--

"Thank God, I am not dead yet; and I should be glad to hear from you,
if possible.  You must know that, on arriving at Lützelbourg, we were
sent off by railway in cattle-trucks.  We were thirty or forty
together; and we were not so comfortable as to be able to sit, since
there were no seats, nor to breathe the air, as there was only a small
hole to each side.  Those of us who wanted to breathe or to drink,
found a bayonet before our noses, and charitable souls were forbidden
to give us a glass of water.  We remained in this position more than
twenty hours, standing, unable even to stoop a little.  Many were taken
ill; and as for me, my thigh bones seemed to run up into my ribs, so
that I could scarcely breathe, and I thought with my comrades that they
had undertaken to exterminate us after some new fashion.

"During the night we crossed the Rhine, and then we went on rolling
along the line, and travelling along the other side as far as Rastadt,
where we are now.  The hindmost trucks, where I was, remained; the
others went on into Germany.  We were first put into the casemates
under the ramparts; damp, cold vaults, where many others who had
arrived before us were dying like flies in October.  The straw was
rotting--so were the men.  The doctors in the town and those of the
Baden regiments were afraid of seeing sickness spreading in the
country; and since the day before yesterday those who are able to walk
have been made to come out.  They have put us into large wooden huts
covered in with tarred felt, where we have each received a fresh bundle
of straw.  Here we live, seated on the ground.  We play at cards, some
smoke pipes, and the Badeners mount guard over us.  The hut in which I
am--about three times as large as the old market-hall of Phalsbourg--is
situated between two of the town bastions; and if by some evil chance
any of us took a fancy to revolt, we should be so overwhelmed with shot
and shell that in ten minutes not a man would be left alive.  We are
well aware of this, and it keeps our indignation within bounds against
these Badeners, who treat us like cattle.  We get food twice a day--a
little haricot or millet soup, with a very small piece of meat about
the size of a finger: just enough to keep us alive.  After such a
blockade as ours, something more is wanted to set us up; our noses
stand out of our faces like crows' bills, our cheeks sink in deeper and
deeper; and but for the guns pointed at us, we should have risen a
dozen times.

"I hope, however, I may get over it; father's cloak keeps me warm, and
Cousin George's louis are very useful.  With money you can get
anything; only here you have to pay five times the value of what you
want, for these Badeners are worse than Jews; they all want to make
their fortunes in the shortest time out of the unhappy prisoners.

"I use my money sparingly.  Instead of smoking, I prefer buying from
time to time a little meat or a very small bottle of wine to fortify my
stomach; it is much better for my health, and is the more enjoyable
when your appetite is good.  My appetite has never failed.  When the
appetite fails, comes the typhus.  I do not expect I shall catch
typhus.  But, if it please God to let me return to Rothalp, the very
first day I will have a substantial meal of ham, veal pie, and red
wine.  I will also invite my comrades, for it is a dreadful thing to be
hungry.  And now, to tell you the truth, I repent of having never given
a couple of sous to some poor beggar who asked me for alms in the
winter, saying that he had nothing, I know what hunger is now, and I
feel sorry.  If you meet one in this condition, father or mother,
invite him in, give him bread, let him warm himself, and give him two
or three sous when he goes.  Fancy that you are doing it for your son;
it will bring me comfort.

"Perhaps mother will be able to come and see me: not many people are
allowed to come near us; a permit must be had from the commandant at
Rastadt.  These Badeners and these Bavarians, who were said to be such
good Catholics, treat us as hardly as the Lutherans.  I remember now
that Cousin George used to say that was only part of the play: he was
right.  Instead of only praising and singing to our Lord, they would
much better follow His example.

"Let mother try!  Perhaps the commandant may have had a good dinner;
then he will be in a good temper, and will give her leave to come into
the huts: that is my wish.  And now, to come to an end, I embrace you
all a hundred times; father, mother, Grédel, Cousin George, and Cousin
Marie Anne.

"Your son,
  "JACOB WEBER.

"I forgot to tell you that several out of our battalion escaped from
Phalsbourg before and after the muster-call of the prisoners: in the
number was Jean Baptiste Werner.  It is said that they have joined
Garibaldi: I wish I was with them.  The Germans tell us that if they
can catch them they will shoot them down without pity; yes, but they
won't let themselves be caught; especially Jean Baptiste; he is a
soldier indeed!  If we had but two hundred thousand of his sort, these
Badeners would not be bothering us with their haricot-soup, and their
cannons full of grape-shot.

"RASTADT, _January_ 6, 1871."


From that moment my wife only thought of seeing Jacob again; she made
up her bundle, put into her basket sundry provisions, and in a couple
of days started for Rastadt.

I put no hindrance in her way, thinking she would have no rest until
she had embraced our boy.

Grédel was quite easy, knowing that Jean Baptiste Werner was with
Garibaldi.  I even think she had had news from him; but she showed us
none of his letters, and had again begun to talk about her
marriage-portion, reminding me that her mother had had a hundred louis,
and that she ought to have the same.  She insisted upon knowing where
our money was hidden, and I said to her, "Search; if you can find it,
it is yours."

Girls who want to be married are so awfully selfish; if they can only
have the man they want, house, family, native land, all is one to them.
They are not all like that; but a good half.  I was so annoyed with
Grédel that I began to wish her Jean Baptiste would come back, that I
might marry them and count out her money.

But more serious affairs were then attracting the eyes of all Alsace
and France.

Gambetta had been blamed for having detached Bourbaki's army to our
succor by raising the blockade of Belfort.  It has been said that this
movement enabled the combined forces of Prince Frederick Charles, and
of Mecklenburg, to fall upon Chanzy and overwhelm him, and that our two
central armies ought to have naturally supported each other.  Possibly!
I even believe that Gambetta committed a serious error in dividing our
forces: but, it must be acknowledged, that if the winter had not been
against us--if the cold had not, at that very crisis of our fate,
redoubled in intensity, preventing Bourbaki from advancing with his
guns and warlike stores with the rapidity necessary to prevent De
Werder from fortifying his position and receiving
reinforcements--Alsace would have been delivered, and we might even
have attacked Germany itself by the Grand Duchy of Baden.  Then how
many men would have risen in a moment!  Many times George and I,
watching these movements, said to each other: "If they only get to
Mutzig, we will go!"

Yes, in war everything cannot succeed; and when you have against you
not only the enemy, but frost, ice, snow, bad roads; whilst the enemy
have the railroads, which they had been stupidly allowed to take at the
beginning of the campaign, and are receiving without fatigue or danger,
troops, provisions, munitions of war, whatever they want; then if good
plans don't turn out successful, it is not the last but the first
comers who are to be blamed.

But for the heavy snows which blocked up the roads, Bourbaki would have
surprised Werder.  The Germans were expecting this, for all at once the
requisitions began again.  The Landwehr, this time from Metz, and
commanded by officers in spectacles, began to pass through our
villages; they were the last that we saw; they came from the farthest
extremity of Prussia.  I heard them say that they had been three days
and three nights on the railway; and now they were continuing their
road to Belfort by forced marches, because other troops from Paris were
crowding the Lyons railway.

George could not understand how men should come from Paris, and said:
"Those people are lying!  If the troops engaged in the siege were
coming away, the Parisians would come out and follow them up."

At the same time we learned that the Germans were evacuating Dijon,
Gray, Vesoul, places which the francs-tireurs of Garibaldi immediately
occupied; that Werder was throwing up great earthworks against Belfort;
things were looking serious; the last forces of Germany were coming
into action.

Then, too, the _Indépendance_ talked of nothing but peace, and the
convocation of a National Assembly at Bordeaux; the English newspapers
began again to commiserate our loss, as they had done at the beginning
of the war, saying that after the first battle her Majesty the Queen
would interpose between us.  I believe that if the French had
conquered, the English Government would have cried, "Halt--enough! too
much blood has flown already."

But as we were conquered, her Majesty did not come and separate us; no
doubt she was of opinion that everything was going on very favorably
for her son-in-law, the good Fritz!

So all this acting on the part of the newspapers was beginning again;
and if Bourbaki's attempt had prospered, the outcries, the fine
phrases, the tender feelings for our poor human race, civilization and
international rights would have redoubled, to prevent us from pushing
our advantages too far.

Unhappily, fortune was once more against us.  When I say fortune, let
me be understood: the Germans, who had no more forces to draw from
their own country, still had some to spare around Paris, which they
could dispose of without fear: they felt no uneasiness in that quarter,
as we have learned since.

If General Trochu had listened to the Parisians, who were unanimous in
their desire to fight, Manteuffel could not have withdrawn from the
besieging force 80,000 men to crush Bourbaki, 120 leagues away; nor
General Van Goeben 40,000 to fall upon Faidherbe in the north; nor
could others again have joined Frederick Charles to overwhelm Chanzy.
This is clear enough!  The fortune of the Germans at this time was not
due to the genius of their chiefs, or the courage and the number of
their men; but to the inaction of General Trochu!  Yes, this is the
fact!  But it must also be owned that Gambetta, Bourbaki, Faidherbe,
and Chanzy ought to have allowed for this.

However, France has not perished yet; but she has been most unfortunate!

The cold was intense.  Bourbaki was approaching Belfort; he took
Esprels and Villersexel at the point of the bayonet; then all Alsace
rejoiced to hear that he was at Montbéliard, Sar-le-Château, Vyans,
Comte-Hénaut and Chusey; retaking all this land of good people, more
ill-fated still than we, since they knew not a word of German, and that
bad race bore them ill-will in consequence.

Our confidence was returning.  Every evening George and I, by the
fireside, talked of these affairs; reading the paper three or four
times over, to get at something new.

My wife had returned from Rastadt full of indignation against the
Badeners, for not having allowed her to see Jacob, or even to send him
the provisions she had brought.  She had only seen, at a distance, the
wooden huts, with their four lines of sentinels, the palisades, and the
ditches that surrounded them.  Grédel, Marie Anne, and she, talked only
of these poor prisoners; vowing to make a pilgrimage to Marienthal if
Jacob came back safe and sound.

Fatigue, anxiety, the high price of provisions, the fear of coming
short altogether if the war went on, all this gave us matter for
serious reflection; and yet we went on hoping, when the _Indépendance_
brought us the report of General Chanzy upon the combats at Montfort,
Champagne, Parigne, l'Eveque, and other places where our columns,
overpowered by the 120,000 men of Frederick Charles and the Duke of
Mecklenburg, had been obliged to retire to their last lines around Le
Mans.  That evening, as we were going home upon the stroke of ten,
George said: "I don't believe much in pilgrimages, although several of
my old shipmates in the _Boussole_ had full confidence in our Lady of
Good Deliverance: I have never made any vows; these are no part of my
principles; but I promise to drink two bottles of good wine with
Christian in honor of the Republic, and to distribute one for every
poor man in the village if we gain the great battle of to-morrow.
According to Chanzy our army is driven to bay; it has fallen back upon
its last position, and the great blow will be struck.  Good-night."

"Good-night, George and Marie Anne."

We went out by moonlight, the hoar-frost was glittering on the ground;
it was the 15th of January, 1871.

The next day no _Indépendance_ arrived, nor the next day; it often had
missed, and would come three or four numbers together.  Fresh rumors
had spread; there was a report of a lost battle; the Landwehr at
Phalsbourg were rejoicing and drinking champagne.

On the 18th, about two in the afternoon, the foot-postman Michel
arrived.  I was waiting at my cousin's.  We were walking up and down,
smoking and looking out of the windows; Michel was still in the
passage, when George opened the door and cried: "Well?"  "Here they
are, Monsieur Weber."

My cousin sat at his desk.  "Now we will see," said he, changing color.

But instead of beginning with the first, he opened the second, and read
aloud that report of Chanzy's in which he said that all was going on
well the evening before; but that a panic which seized upon the Breton
Mobiles had disordered the army, without the possibility of either he
or the Vice-Admiral Jaurréguiberry being able to check or stop it; so
that the Prussians had rushed pell-mell into the unhappy city of Le
Mans, mingled with our own troops, and taken a large body of prisoners.

I saw the countenance of my cousin change every moment; at last, he
flung the journal upon the table, crying: "All is lost!"

It was as if he had pierced my heart with a knife.  Yet I took up the
paper and read to the end.  Chanzy had not lost all hope of rallying
his army at Laval, and Gambetta was hastening to join him, to support
him with his courageous spirit.

"There now," said George, "look at that!"

Placiard was passing the house arm-in-arm with a Landwehr officer,
followed by a few men; they were making requisitions, and entered the
house opposite.  "There is the Plébiscite in flesh and blood.  Now that
scoundrel is working for his Imperial Majesty William I., for the
Germans have their emperor, as we have had ours; they will soon learn
the cost of glory; each has his turn!  By and by, when the reins are
tightened, these poor Germans will be looking in every direction to see
if the French are not revolting; but France will be tranquil: they
themselves will have riveted their own chains, and their masters will
draw the reins tighter and tighter, saying: 'Now, then, Mechle!*
Attention! eyes right; eyes left.  Ah! you lout, do you make a wry
face?  I will show you that might is right in Germany, as everywhere
else, if you don't know it already.  Whack! how do you like that,
Mechle?  Aha! did you think you were getting victories for German
Fatherland and German liberty, idiot?  You find out now that it was to
put yourself again under the yoke, as after 1815; just to show you the
difference between the noble German lord and a brute of your own sort.
Get on, Mechle!'"


* Nickname for the Germans, answering to the English "John Bull," and
the French "Jaques Bonhomme."


George exclaimed: "How miserable to be surprised and deluged as we have
been daily by six hundred thousand Germans, and to have our hands bound
like culprits, without arms, munitions, orders, chiefs, or anything!
Ah! the deputies of the majority who voted for war would not demand
compulsory service; they feared to arm the nation.  They would not risk
the bodies of their own sons; the people alone should fight to defend
their places, their salaries, their châteaux, their property of every
sort!  Miserable self-seekers! they are the cause of our ruin! their
names should be exposed in every commune, to teach our children to
execrate them."

He was becoming embittered, and it is not surprising, for every day we
heard of fresh reverses: first the surrender of Veronne, just when
Faidherbe was coming to deliver it, and the retreat of our army of the
North upon Lille and Cambrai, before the overwhelming forces of Van
Goeben, fresh from Paris; then the grand attack of Bourbaki from
Montbéliard to Mont Vaudois, which he had pursued three successive
days, the 15th, 16th, and 17th January without success, on account of
the reinforcements which Werder had received, and the horrible state of
the roads, broken up by the rain and the snow; lastly, the arrival of
Manteuffel, with his 80,000 men, also from Paris--to cut off his
retreat.

Then we understood that the Landwehr had been right in telling us that
they were getting reinforcements from Paris; and George, who understood
such things better than I, suddenly conceived a horror for those who
were commanding there.

"Either," he said, "the Parisians are afraid to fight--which I cannot
believe, for I know them--or the men in command are incapable--or
traitors.  Hitherto relieving armies have been sent in support of a
besieged city; now we see the besiegers of a city twice as strong as
themselves in men, arms, and munitions of every kind, detaching whole
armies to crush our troops fighting in the provinces: the thing is
incredible!  I am certain that the Parisians are demanding to be led
out, especially as they are suffering from famine.  Well, if sorties
were taking place, the Germans would want all their men down there, and
would be unable to come and overwhelm our already overtasked armies."

Let them explain these things as they will, George was right.  Since
the Germans were able to send away from Paris 40,000 men in one
direction, and 80,000 in another, evidently they were free to undertake
what they pleased; instead of surrounding the city with troops, they
might have set helmets and cloaks upon sticks all round, for
scarecrows, as they do to keep sparrows out of a corn-field.

Here, then, is how we have lost: it was the incapacity of the man who
was commanding at Paris, and the weakness of the Government of
Defence--and especially of Monsieur Jules Favre!--who, when they ought
to have replaced this orator by a man of action, as Gambetta demanded,
had not the courage to fulfil their duty.  Everybody knows this; why
not say it openly?

The only thing which cheered us a little about the end of this terrible
month of January, was to learn that the francs-tireurs had blown up the
bridge of Fontenoy, on the railroad between Nancy and Toul.  But our
joy was not of long duration; for three or four days after,
proclamations posted at the door of the mayoralty-house gave notice
that the Germans had utterly consumed the village of Fontenoy, to
punish the inhabitants for not having denounced the francs-tireurs; and
that all we Lorrainers were condemned, for the same offence, to pay an
extraordinary contribution of ten millions to his Majesty, the Emperor
of Germany.  At the same time, as the French workmen were refusing to
repair this bridge, the Prussian prefect of La Menotte wrote to the
Mayor of Nancy:

"If to-morrow, Tuesday, January 24, at twelve o'clock, five hundred men
from the dockyards of the city are not at the station, first the
foremen, then a certain number of the workmen, will be arrested and
shot immediately."

This prefect's name was Renard--"Count Renard."

I mention this that his name may not be forgotten.

But all this was nothing, compared with what was to follow.  One
morning the Prussians had given me a few sacks of corn to grind; I
dared not refuse to work for them, as they would have crushed me with
blows and requisitions: they might have carried me off nearly to Metz
again, they might even have shot me.  I had pleaded the snow, the ice,
the failure of the water, which prevented me from grinding;
unfortunately, rain had fallen in abundance, the snow was melting, the
mill-dam was full, and on the 2d or 3d of February (I am not sure
which, I am so confused) I was piling up the sacks of that wicked set
in my mill; Father Offran and Catherine were helping; Grédel, upstairs,
was dressing herself, after sweeping the house and lighting the kitchen
fire.  It was about eight o'clock in the morning, when looking out into
the street by chance, where the water was rattling down the gutters, I
saw George and Marie Anne coming.

My cousin was taking long strides, his wife coming after him; farther
on a Landwehr was coming too: the people were sweeping before their
doors, without caring how they bespattered the passers-by.  George,
near the mill, cried out, "Do you know what is going on?"

"No--what?"

"Well, an armistice has been concluded for twenty-one days; the Paris
forts are given up: the Prussians may set fire to the city when they
please.  Now they may send all their troops and all their artillery
against Bourbaki; for the armistice does not extend to the operations
in the east."

George was pale with excitement, his voice shook.  Grédel, at the top
of the stairs, was hastily twisting her hair into a knot.

"Look, Christian," said my cousin, pulling a paper out of his pocket;
"the armies of Bourbaki and Garibaldi are surrendered by this
armistice.  Manteuffel has come down from Paris with 80,000 men to
occupy the passes of the Jura in their rear: the unfortunate men are
caught as in a vice, between him and Werder; and all who have escaped
from the hands of the Prussians and taken service again, like our poor
Mobiles of Phalsbourg, will be shot!"

While cousin was speaking, Grédel had come downstairs, without even
putting on her slippers; she was leaning against him, as pale as death,
trying to read over his shoulder; when suddenly she tore the paper from
his hands.  George wished he had said nothing; but it was too late!

Grédel, after having read with clinched teeth, ran off like a mad
woman, uttering fearful screams: "Oh! the wretches! ... Oh! my poor
Jean Baptiste! ... Oh! the thieves! ... Oh! my poor Jean Baptiste!"

She seemed to be seeking something to fight with.  And as we stood
confounded at her outcries, I said: "Grédel, for Heaven's sake don't
scandalize us in this way.  The people will hear you from the other end
of the village!"  She answered in a fury: "Hold your tongue!  You are
the cause of it all!"

"I!" said I, indignantly.

"Yes, you!" she shrieked, with a terrible flashing in her eyes: "you,
with your Plébiscite; deceiving everybody by promising them peace!  You
deserve to be along with Bazaine and the rest of them."

And my wife cried: "That girl will be the death of us."

She had sat down upon the stairs.  Marie Anne, with her hands clasped,
said: "Do forgive her; her mind is going."

Never had I felt so humbled; to be treated thus by my own daughter!
But Grédel respected nothing now; and Cousin George, trying to get in a
word, she exclaimed: "You! you! an old soldier!  Are you not ashamed of
staying here, instead of going to fight?  The Landwehr are as old as
you, with their gray hairs and their spectacles; they don't make
speeches; they all march.  And that's why we are beaten!"

At last I became furious; and I was looking for my cowhide behind the
door, to bring her to her senses, when, unfortunately, a Landwehr came
in to ask if the flour was ready.  The moment Grédel caught sight of
him, she uttered such a savage shriek that my ears still tingle with
it, and in a second she had laid hold of her hatchet; George had
scarcely time to seize her by her twisted back hair, when the hatchet
had flown from her hand, whizzing through the air, and was quivering
three inches deep in the door-post.

The Landwehr, an elderly man, with great eyes and a red nose, had seen
the steel flash past close to his ear; he had heard it whiz, and as
Grédel was struggling with George, crying: "Oh, the villain; I have
missed him!" he turned, and ran off at the top of his speed.  I ran to
the mill-dam, supposing he was going to the mayor's, but no, he ran a
great deal farther than that, and never stopped till he reached Wéchem.

Then Grédel became aware that she had made a mistake; she went up into
her room, put on her shoes, took her basket, went into the kitchen for
a knife and a loaf, and then she left the house; running down the other
side of the hill to gain the Krapenfelz, where our cow was with several
others, under the charge of the old rag-dealer.

"This is a very bad business," said George, fixing his eyes upon me;
"that Landwehr will denounce you: this evening the Prussian gendarmes
will be here.  I'm sure I don't know, my poor Christian, where you got
that girl from; amongst those who have gone before us, there must have
been some very different from your poor mother, and grandmother
Catherine."

"What would you have," said Marie Anne; "she is fond of her Jean
Baptiste."  And I thought: "If he but had her now; it is not I would
refuse them permission to marry now; no, not I.  I only wish they were
married already!"

I was thinking how I might settle this dangerous business.  George said
we must overtake the Landwehr, and slip three or four cent-sous pieces
in his hand, to induce him to hold his tongue: the Prussians are
softened with money.  But where could he be found now?  How was he to
be overtaken?  I had no longer my two beautiful nags.  So I resolved to
leave it all to Providence.

To my great surprise, the Landwehr never returned.  That same day two
other Germans, with Lieutenant Hartig, came to take an invoice of the
flour, without mentioning that affair: one would have thought that
nothing had occurred.  The next day, and the day after that, we were
still in painful expectation; but that man gave no sign of appearing.
No doubt he must have been a marauder; one of those base fellows who
enter houses without orders, to receive requisitions of every kind, to
sell again in the neighboring villages; such things had been done more
than once since the arrival of the Germans.  This is the conclusion I
came to by and by; but at that time the fear of seeing that fellow
returning with the gendarmes, left me no peace; every minute my wife,
standing at the door, would say: "Christian, run!  Here are the
Prussian gendarmes coming!"

For a cow, or a Jew astride upon a donkey at the end of the road, she
would throw one into fits.

Grédel remained a week in the woods in the Krapenfelz.  Every day the
woodman brought her news of what was going on in the village.  At last
she came back, laughing; she went up into her room to change her
clothes, and resumed her work without any allusion to the past.  We did
not want to start the subject of Jean Baptiste again; but she herself,
seeing us dispirited, at last said to us: "Pooh! it's all right now.
There; look at that!"

It was a letter from Jean Baptiste Werner, which she had received among
the rocks on the Krapenfelz.  In that letter, which I read with much
astonishment, Werner related that he had at first wished to join
Garibaldi at Dijon; but that for want of money he had been obliged to
stop at Besançon, where the volunteers of the Vosges and of Alsace were
being organized; that upon the arrival of Bourbaki, he had enlisted as
a gunner in the 20th corps.  Two days after there were engagements at
Esprels and Villersexel, where more than four thousand Prussians had
remained on the field.  The cold was extraordinary.  The Prussians,
repulsed by our columns, had retired from village to village, on the
other side of the Lisaine, between Montbéliard and Mont Vaudois.  There
Werner, behind a deep ravine, had mounted batteries of
twenty-four-pounders, well protected, on three stages, one over
another; his army and his reinforcements were concentrated and securely
intrenched.  In spite of this, Bourbaki, wanting to relieve Belfort and
descend into Alsace, had given orders for a general assault, and all
that country, for three days, resembled a sea of smoke and flame under
the tremendous fire of the hostile armies.  Unhappily, the passage
could not be forced; and the exhaustion of munitions, the fatigue, the
sharp sufferings of cold and hunger--for there were no stores of
clothing and provisions in our rear--all these causes had compelled us
to retire, but in the hope of renewing the assault; when all at once
the news spread that another German army was standing in our line of
retreat, near Dôle: a considerable army, from Paris.  They had hurried
to get clear as far as possible by gaining Pontarlier; but these fresh
troops had a great advantage over us.  Werder, also, was following us
up; and we were going to be surrounded on all sides around Besançon.
Jean Baptiste went on to say that then Bourbaki had attempted his own
life, and was seriously wounded; that General Clinchamp had then
assumed the command-in-chief; but that all these disasters would not
have hindered us from arriving at Lyons, across the Jura, if the Maires
of the villages had not published the armistice, causing the army to
neglect to secure a line of retreat; that a great number had even lain
down their arms and withdrawn into the villages; that the Prussians had
kept advancing, and that only in the evening, when they had occupied
all the passes, General Manteuffel declared that the armistice did not
extend to operations in the east, and that our army must lay down their
arms, as those of Sedan and Metz had done!  But the soldiers of the
Republic refused to surrender, and they had made a passage through the
ice, the snow, and thousands of Prussian corpses, to Switzerland.

Jean Baptiste Werner related, in this long letter, full particulars of
all that he had suffered; the attacks delivered by the corps of General
Billot, who was charged to protect the retreat, upon the rocks, at the
foot of precipices, in all the deep passes where the enemy lay in wait
to cut off our retreat; how many of our poor fellows had perished of
cold and hunger!  And then the admirable reception given to our unhappy
soldiers by the noble Swiss, who had received them not as strangers,
but as brothers: every town, village, and house, was opened to them
with kindness.  It is manifest that the Swiss are a great people; for
greatness is not to be measured by the extent of a country, and the
number of the inhabitants, as the Germans suppose; but by the humanity
of the people, the elevation of their character, their respect for
unsuccessful courage, their love of justice and of liberty.

How much help have the Swiss sent us in succor, in money, in clothing,
in food, in seed corn, for our poor fellow-countrymen ruined by the
war!  It came to Saverne, to Phalsbourg, to Petite Pierre--everywhere.
Ah, we perceived then that heaven and earth had not altogether deserted
us; we saw that there were yet brave hearts, true republicans; that all
men were not born for fire, pillage, and slaughter; that there are men
in the world besides hypocrites--true Christians, inspired by Him who
said to men: "love one another; ye are brethren."  He would not have
invented petroleum bombshells, or declared that brute-force dominated
over right, like those barbarians from the other side of the Rhine.

That letter of Jean Baptiste Werner's pleased me; it was clear that he
was a brave man and a good patriot.  But in the meanwhile, the policy
of Bismarck and Jules Favre went on its way.  The order of the day was,
"elect deputies to sit in the assembly at Bordeaux," which was to
decide for peace, or the continuance of the war: the twenty-one days'
armistice had no other object, it was said.

So those who did not care to become Prussians took up arms, George and
I the first; myself with the greatest zeal, for every day I reproached
myself with that abominable Plébiscite as a crime.  And now began the
old story again: no Legitimists, no Bonapartists, no Orleanists could
be found; all cried: "We are Republicans.  Vote for us!"

But in every part of the country through which the Prussians had gone,
the Plébiscite was remembered; the people were beginning to understand
that this unworthy farce was our ruin, and that men should be judged by
their actions, not their words.

At Strasbourg, at Nancy, all who desired to remain French nominated two
lists of old republicans, who immediately started for Bordeaux.
Gambetta was elected by us and by La Meurthe; he was also elected in
many other departments, with Thiers, Garibaldi, Faidherbe, Chanzy, etc.

These elections once more revived our hopes.  We supposed that
everything had taken place in the West and the South as with us.

Gambetta, who never lost his sound judgment in critical moments, had
declared that all the old official deputies of Bonaparte, all the
senators, councillors of State, and prefects of the Empire, were
disqualified for election.  George commended him.  "When a spendthrift
devours all his living in debauchery, he is put under restraint; much
more, therefore," he urged, "ought men to be restrained who have
devoured the wealth of the nation and put our two finest provinces in
jeopardy.  All these men ought forever to be held incapable of
exercising political functions."

But Bismarck, who relied chiefly on the old Imperial functionaries, by
way of testifying his gratitude to the _honest man_ for all he had done
for Prussia--for his noble behavior at Sedan, and his gift of Metz to
his Majesty, William--protested against this manifesto by Gambetta: he
declared that the elections would not then be free, and that liberty
was so dear to his heart, that he had rather break the armistice than
in any way cramp the freedom of the elections.

George, on hearing this, broke out into a rage.  "What," he cried,
"this Bismarck, who has warned the Prussian deputies to be careful of
their expressions in speaking of the nobleness and the majesty of King
William, 'because laws exist in Prussia against servants who presume to
insult their masters'--this very Bismarck comes here to defend liberty,
and support the accomplices of Bonaparte!  Oh! these defenders of
liberty!"

Unhappily, all this was useless; the Prussians were already in the
forts of Paris, and the menaces of Bismarck had more weight in France
than the words of Gambetta.  Therefore, once more we had to yield to
his Majesty, William, and many of our deputies are indebted to him for
their admission into the Chambers of Bordeaux.

These defenders of the Republic immediately showed that they were not
ungrateful to Bismarck; for they hissed Garibaldi, who had come from
Italy, old, sick, and infirm, with his two sons, to fight the enemies
of France, and uphold justice, when all Europe held aloof!

Garibaldi was not even allowed to reply: these representatives of the
people hissed him down!  He calmly withdrew!

The Sunday following--I am ashamed to say it--our curé Daniel, and many
other curés in our neighborhood, preached that Garibaldi was a
_canaille_.  I am not condemning them; I am simply stating a fact.
They had received orders from their bishops, and they obeyed; for the
poor country priest is at his bishop's mercy, and under his orders,
like a whip in a driver's hand; if he disobeys, he is turned out!  I
know that many would rather have been silent than said such things, and
I pity them!

Well, Bismarck might well laugh; he had more friends among us than was
believed.  Those who want to make their profits out of nations, always
come to an understanding; their interests and their enemies are the
same.

Then the Assembly of Bordeaux voted peace.  No hard matter; only
involving the sacrifice of Alsace and Lorraine, and five milliards as
an indemnity for the trouble which the Prussians had taken in
bombarding, devastating, and stripping us!

Then our unhappy deputies of Alsace and Lorraine were declared to be
German by their French brothers, against every feeling of justice; for
nobody in the world had the right to make Germans of us; to rend us
from the body of our French mother-country, and fling us bleeding into
the barbarian's camp, as a lump of living flesh is thrown to a wild
beast, to satisfy it; no, no one in the world had this right.  We alone
freely ought to choose, and decide by our own votes, whether we would
become Germans or remain French.  But with Bismarck and William, right,
liberty, and justice are powerless; might is everything.  Our sorrowing
deputies at last protested:

"The representatives of Alsace and Lorraine, previous to any
negotiations for peace, have laid upon the table of the National
Assembly a declaration, by which they affirm, in the clearest and most
emphatic language, that their will and their right is to remain
Frenchmen.

"Delivered up, in contempt of justice, and by a hateful exercise of
power, to the dominion of the foreigner, we have one last sad duty to
fulfil.

"We again declare null and void a compact which disposes of us against
our consent.

"The revindication of our rights remains forever open to each and all,
after the form and in the measure which our consciences may dictate.

"In taking leave of this Chamber, in which it would be a lowering of
our dignity to sit longer, and in spite of the bitterness of our
sorrow, our last impulse is one of gratitude for the men who for six
months have never ceased to defend us; and we are filled with a deep
and unalterable love for our mother-country, from which we are
violently torn.

"We will ever follow you with our prayers; and with unshaken confidence
we await the future day when regenerated France shall resume the course
of her high destiny.

"Your brothers of Alsace and Lorraine, separated at this moment from
the common family, away from their home, will ever cherish a filial
affection for their beloved France, until the day when she shall come
to reclaim her place among us."

These were their words.

Monsieur Thiers asked them if they knew any other way of saving France?
No reply was made.  Unfortunately there was none: after the
capitulation of Paris, the sacrifice of an arm was needful to save the
body.

Half the deputies were already thinking of other things; peace made,
they only thought of naming a king, and of decapitalizing Paris, as the
newspapers said, to punish it for having proclaimed the Republic!  All
these people, who had presented themselves before the electors with
professions of republicanism, were royalists.

Gambetta, having accepted the representation of the Bas Rhin (Alsace),
left the chamber with the deputies; and other old republicans,
contemptuously hissed whenever they opened their mouths, gave in their
resignations.

Paris was agitated.  A rising was apprehended.

About that time, early in March, 1871, Prussian tax-collectors,
controllers, _gardes généraux_, and other functionaries, came to
replace our own; we were warned that the French language would be
abolished in our schools, and that the brave Alsacians who felt any
wish to join the armies of the King of Prussia, would be met with every
possible consideration; they might even be admitted into the guard of
his Royal and Imperial Majesty.  About this time, an old friend of
Cousin George's, Nicolas Hague, a master saddler, a wealthy and highly
respectable man, came to see him from Paris.

Nicolas Hague had bought many vineyards in Alsace; he had planned,
before the war, to retire amongst us, as soon as he had settled his
affairs; but after all the cruelties perpetrated by the Germans, and
seeing our country fallen into their hands, he was in haste to sell his
vineyards again, not caring to live amongst such barbarians.

George and Marie Anne were delighted to receive this old friend; and
immediately an upstairs room was got ready for him, and he made himself
at home.

He was a man of fifty, with red ears, a kind of collar of beard around
his face, large, velvet waistcoat adorned with gold chains and seals; a
thorough Alsacian, full of experience and sound common-sense.

His wife, a native of Bar-le-Duc, and his two daughters were staying
with their relations; they were resting, and recruiting their strength
after the sufferings and agonies of the siege; he was as busy as
possible getting rid of his property; for he looked upon it as a
disgrace to bring into the world children destined to have their faces
slapped, in honor of the King of Prussia.

I remember that on the second day after his arrival, as we were all
dining together at my cousin's, after having explained to us his views,
Nicolas Hague began telling us the miseries of the siege of Paris.  He
told us that during the whole of that long winter, every day, were seen
before the bakers' shops and the butchers' stalls strings of old men
half clothed, and poor women holding their children, discolored with
the cold, close in their arms, waiting three or four hours in rain,
snow, and wind, for a small piece of black bread, or of horse flesh;
which often never came!  Never had he heard any of these unhappy people
expressing any desire to surrender; but superior officers and staff
officers had shamelessly declared, from the earliest days of the siege,
that Paris could not hold out!  And these men, formerly so proud of
their rank, their epaulettes, and their titles, who were solely charged
to defend us, and to uphold the honor of the nation, discouraged by
their language those who were trusting in them, and whose bread they
had eaten for years passed in useless reviews and parades, in frivolous
fêtes at St. Cloud, at Compiègne, the Tuileries, and elsewhere.

According to Nicolas Hague, all our disasters, from Sedan to the
capitulation of Paris, were attributable to the disaffection of the
staff officers, the committees, and those former Bonapartist
place-holders, who knew well that if the Republic drove out the
Prussians, nobody in the world would be able to destroy it; and as they
did not care for the Republic, they acted accordingly.

"There is a great outcry at the present moment against General Trochu,"
said he, "principally got up by the Bonapartists, who, in their hearts,
reproach him with having supported France rather than their dynasty.
They make him responsible for all our calamities; and many Republicans
are simple enough to believe them.  But, when it is remembered that
this man arrived only at the last moment, when all was lost already;
when the Prussians were advancing by forced marches upon Paris; when
MacMahon was forsaking the capital, _by order of the Emperor_, to go to
Sedan, to get the army crushed down there which was to have covered us;
when it is remembered that at that moment Paris had no arms, no
munitions of war, no provisions, no troops; that the whole
neighborhood, men, women, and children, were taking refuge in the city;
that wagons full of furniture, hay, and straw were choking the streets;
that order had to be restored amidst this abominable confusion, the
forts armed, the National Guard organized, the inhabitants put upon
rations, etc.; and, then, that all those thousands of men, who did not
know even how to keep in ranks, were to be taught to handle a musket,
to march, and, finally, led under fire;--when all these things are
remembered, it must be acknowledged that, for one man, it was too much,
and that, if faults have been committed, it is not General Trochu who
is to be blamed, but the miserable men who brought us to such a pass.
Above all, let us be just.  It is quite clear that, if General Trochu
had had under his orders real soldiers, commanded by real officers, he
might have made great sorties, broken the lines, or at least kept the
Germans busy round the place.  But how could I, Nicolas Hague, saddler,
Claude Frichet, the grocer round the corner, and a couple of hundred
thousand others like us, who did not even know the word of command--how
could we fight like old troops?  We were not wanting in good will, nor
in courage; but every man to his trade.  As for our percussion rifles,
and our flint locks, and a hundred other discouraging things, you feel
utterly cast down when you know that the enemy are well armed and
supported by a terrible artillery.  Trochu was well aware of these
things; and I believe that neither he, nor Jules Favre, nor Gambetta,
nor any of those who declared themselves Republicans on the 4th of
September, are responsible for our misfortunes, but only Bonaparte and
his crew!"

At last, having heard Nicolas Hague explain his views, seeing that we
had been delivered up by selfish men--as Cousin Jacques Desjardins had
foreseen four months before--but that the Republic was in existence,
and that no doubt justice would be done upon all who had brought us
into this sad condition, by which means we might rise some day and get
our turn, I had resolved to sell my mill, my land, and everything that
belonged to me in the country, and go and settle in France; for the
sight of Placiard and the other Prussian functionaries, who were
fraternizing together, and shouting, "Long live old Germany!" made my
blood boil.  I could not stand it.

Cousin George, to whom I mentioned my design, said: "Then, if all the
Alsacians and Lorrainers go, in five or six years all our country will
be Prussian.  Instead of going to America, the Germans will pour in
here by hundreds of thousands; they will find in our country, almost
for nothing, fields, meadows, vineyards, hop-grounds, noble forests,
the finest lands, the richest and most productive in Central Europe.
How delighted would Bismarck and William be if they saw us decamping!
No, no; I'll stay.  But this does not mean that I am becoming a
Prussian--quite the contrary.  But in this ill-drawn treaty there are
two good articles; the first affirms that the Alsacians and the
Lorrainers, dwelling in Alsace and Lorraine, may, up to the month of
October, 1872, declare their intention of remaining French, on
condition of possessing an estate in France; the second affirms that
the French may retain their landed estates in Germany.

"Well, I at once elect to remain a Frenchman, and I take up my abode in
Paris with my friend Nicolas Hague, who will be happy to do me this
service.  I don't want to become a burgomaster, a municipal councillor,
or anything of that kind; it will be enough for me to possess good
land, a thriving business, and a pleasant house.  Yes--I intend to
declare at once; and if all who are able to secure an abode in France
will do as I am doing, we shall have German authorities over us, it is
true, but the land and the people will remain French and the land and
the men are everything.

"Were not the old préfets and sous-préfets of the _honest man_
intruders, just as much as these men are?  Did they care for anything
but making us pay what the chambers had voted, and compelling us to
elect for deputies old fogies who would be safe to vote whichever way
the Emperor required them?  Did they trouble themselves about us, our
commerce, our trade, any farther than merely to draw from us the best
part of our profits for themselves, their friends, their acquaintances,
and all the supporters of the dynasty of the perjurer?

"These new préfets, these _kreis-directors_, these burgomasters, set
over us to defend the Prussian dynasty, will not concern us much more
than the others did.  At first they will try mildness; and as we have
been well able to remain French under the préfets of Bonaparte, so we
may live and remain French under those of Emperor William.

"My principal concern is that a large majority should declare as I am
about to do.  The fear is lest the Placiards, and other mayors of the
Empire kept in their places by the Prussians, will be able to turn
aside the people from declaring themselves as Frenchmen, by
intimidating them with threats of being looked upon suspiciously, or
even of being expelled; the fear is lest these fellows should keep back
day after day those who are afraid of deciding: for when once the day
is past, those who have not declared for France will be
Prussians--their children will serve and be subject to blows at the age
of twenty, for old Germany; and those who have already fled into France
will be forced to return or renounce their inheritance forever.

"My chief hope now is that the French journals, which are always so
busy saying useless things, will now, without fail, warn the Alsacians
and Lorrainers of their danger, and explain to them that if they
declare for France their persons and their property will be guaranteed
in safety by the treaty; but if they neglect to do so, their persons
and their property fall under the Prussian laws.  They would even do
well to furnish a clear and simple form of declaration.  By this step,
all who are interested would be clearly informed, and these papers
would have done the greatest service to France.

"As for me, here I stay!  I am here upon my own land; I have bought it;
I have paid for it with the sweat of my brow.  I will pay the taxes; I
will hold my tongue, that I may be neither worried nor driven away.  I
will sell my crops to the Germans as dearly as I can; I will employ
none but Frenchmen; and if the Republic acquires strength, as I hope it
will--for now the people see what Monarchies have been able to do for
us--if the nation transacts its own business wisely, sensibly, with
moderation, good order, and reflection, she will soon rise again, and
will once more become powerful.  In ten years our losses will be
repaired: we shall possess well-informed constituencies, national
armies, upright administrations, a commissariat, and a staff very
different from that which we have known.

"Then let the French return; they will find us, as before, ready to
receive them with open arms, and to march at their sides.

"But if they pursue their old course of _coups d'état_ and revolutions;
if the adventurers, the Jesuits, and the egotists form another
coalition against justice; if they recommence their disgraceful farces
of plébiscites and constitutions by yes and no, with bayonets pointed
at people's throats and with electors of whom one-half cannot read; if
they bestow places again by patronage and recommendation of friends,
instead of honestly throwing them open to competition; if they refuse
elementary education and compulsory military service; if they will
have, as in past times, an ignorant populace, and an army filled with
mercenaries, in order that the sons of nobles and bourgeois may remain
peaceably at home, whilst the poor labor like beasts of burden, and go
and meet their deaths upon battle-fields for masters they have no
concern with:--in a word, if they overthrow the Republic and set up
Monarchy again, then what miseries may we not expect?  Poor France,
rent by her own children, will end like Poland; all our conquests of
'89 will be lost.  Switzerland, Italy, Belgium, Holland, all the free
nations of the Continent will share our fate; the great splay feet of
the Germans will overspread Europe, and we unhappy Alsacians and
Lorrainers will be forced to bow the head under the yoke, or go off to
America."

This speech of George's made me reflect, and I resolved to wait.

Many Alsacians and Lorrainers have thought the same; and this is why M.
Thiers was right in saying that the Republic is the form of government
which least divides us: it is also the only one which can save us.  Any
other form of government upon which Legitimists, Orleanists, and
Bonapartists could well meet on common ground, would end in our
destruction.  If it should happen that one of these parties succeeds in
placing its prince upon the throne, the next day all the others would
unite and overthrow it; and the Germans, taking advantage of our
division, would seize upon the Franche Comté and Champagne.

The Deputies of the Eight ought to reflect well upon this.  It is to
reinstate the country, not a party, that they are at Versailles; it is
to restore harmony to our distracted country, and not to sow fresh
dissensions.  I appeal to their patriotism, and, if this is not enough,
to their prudence.  New _coups d'état_ would precipitate us into fresh
revolutions more and more terrible.  The nation, whose desire is for
peace, labor, order, liberty, education, and justice for all, is weary
of seeing itself torn to pieces by Emperors and Kings; the nation might
become exasperated against these anglers after Kings in troubled
waters, and the consequences might become terrible indeed.

Let them ponder well; it is their duty to do so.

And all these princes, too--all these shameless pretenders, who make no
scruple of coming to divide us at the crisis when union alone can save
us--when the German is occupying all the strong places on the frontier,
and is watching the opportunity to rend away another portion of our
country!  These men who slip into the army through favor; whose
disaffected newspapers impede the revival of trade, in the hope of
disgusting the people with the Republic!  These princes who one day
pledge their word of honor, and the day after withdraw it, and who are
not ashamed to claim millions in the midst of the general ruin.  Yes,
these men must conduct themselves differently, if they don't wish to
call to remembrance their father Louis Philippe, intriguing with the
Bonapartists to dethrone his benefactor Charles X.; and their
grandfather, Philippe Egalité, intriguing with the Jacobins and voting
the death of Louis XVI. to save his fortune, whilst his son was
intriguing in the army of the North with the traitor Dumouriez to march
upon Paris and overthrow the established laws.

But the day of intrigues has passed by!

Bonaparte has stripped many besides these Princes of Orleans; he has
shot, transported, totally ruined fathers of families by thousands;
their wives and their children have lost all!  Not one of these unhappy
creatures claim a farthing; they would be ashamed to ask anything of
their country at such a time as this: the Princes of Orleans, alone,
claim their millions.

Frankly, this is not handsome.

I am but a plain miller; by hard work I have won the half of what I
possess: but if my little fortune and my life could restore Alsace and
Lorraine to France, I would give them in a moment; and if my person
were a cause of division and trouble, and dangerous to the peace of my
country, I would abandon the mill built by my ancestors, the lands
which they have cleared, those which I have acquired by work and by
saving, and I would go!  The idea that I was serving my country, that I
was helping to raise it, would be enough for me.  Yes, I would go, with
a full heart, but without a backward glance.

And now let us finish the story of the Plébiscite.

Jacob returned to work at the mill; Jean Baptiste Werner also came back
to demand Grédel in marriage.  Grédel consented with all her heart; my
wife and I gave our consent cordially.

But the dowry?  This was on Grédel's mind.  She was not the girl to
begin housekeeping without her hundred livres!  So I had again to run
the water out of the sluice to the very bottom, get into the mud again,
and once more handle the pick and spade.

Grédel watched me; and when the old chest came to the light of day with
its iron hoops, when I had set it on the bank, and opened the rusty
padlock, and the crowns all safe and sound glittered in her eyes, then
she melted; all was well now; she even kissed me and hung upon her
mother's neck.

The wedding took place on the 1st of July last; and in spite of the
unhappy times, was a joyful one.

Toward the end of the fête, and when they were uncorking two or three
more bottles of old wine, in honor of M. Thiers and all the good men
who are supporting him in founding the Republic in France, Cousin
George announced to us that he had taken Jean Baptiste Werner into
partnership in his stone quarry.  Building stone will be wanted; the
bombardments and the fires in Alsace will long furnish work for
architects, quarrymen, and masons: it will be a great and important
business.

My cousin declared, moreover, that he, George Weber, would supply the
money required; that Jean Baptiste should travel to take orders and
work the quarries, and they would divide the profits equally.

M. Fingado, notary, seated at the table, drew the deeds out of his
pocket, and read them to us, to the satisfaction of all.

And now things are in order, and we will try to regain by labor,
economy, and good conduct, what Bonaparte lost for us by his Plébiscite.

My story is ended; let every one derive from it such reflections and
instruction as he may.