The Erckmann-Chatrian Megapack: 20 Classic Novels and Short Stories (162 page)

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!”