Read The Plébiscite; or, A Miller's Story of the War Page 5


  CHAPTER V

  The whole way I thought of nothing but the cuirassiers. This order tomarch immediately appeared to me to betoken no good: something seriousmust have occurred; and as, upon the stroke of eleven, I was putting myhorses up, after having put my cart under its shed, the idea came intomy head that it was time now to hide my money. I was bringing backfrom Saverne sixteen hundred livres: this heavy leathern purse in mypocket was perhaps what reminded me. I remembered what Cousin Georgehad said about Uhlans and other scamps of that sort, and I felt a coldshiver 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--Gredel is asleep. You will carrythe basket: put into it your ring and your ear-rings, everything thatwe have got. You hear me! I am going to empty the ditch, and we willbury 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 themill-dam, the water began to rush, boiling, down the gulley; but ourneighbors were used to this noise even in their sleep, so all remainedquiet.

  Then I went in again, and I was busy emptying into a corner the littlebox of oak in which I kept my tools--the pincers, the hammer, thescrew-driver, and the nails, when my wife, in her slippers, camedownstairs. She had the basket under her arm, and was carrying thelighted lantern. I blew it out in a moment, thinking: Never was awoman such a fool.

  Downstairs I asked Catherine if everything was in the basket.

  "Yes."

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

  I had put some bran into the box; everything was carefully laid in thebottom; and then I put on a padlock, and we went out, after havinglooked to see if all was quiet in the neighborhood. The sluice wasalready almost empty; there was only one or two feet of water. Icleared away the few stones which kept the rest of the water fromrunning out, and went into it with my spade and pickaxe as far as justbeneath the dam, where I began to make a deep hole; the water washindering 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 ofthe running water--and I went on digging. If anyone had had themisfortune to surprise us, I should have been capable of doing him amischief. Happily no one came; and about two o'clock in the morningthe hole was three or four feet deep. I let down the box, and laid itdown level, first stamping soil down upon it with my heavy shoes, thengravel, then large stones, then sand; the mud would cover all over ofitself: there is always plenty of mud in a millstream.

  After this I came out again covered with mud. I shut down the dam, andthe water began to rise. About three o'clock, at the dawn of day, thesluice was almost full. I could have begun grinding again; and nobodywould ever have imagined that in this great whirling stream, nine feetunder water and three feet under ground, lay a snug little square boxof oak, clamped with iron, with a good padlock on it, and more thanfour thousand livres inside. I chuckled inwardly, and said: "Now letthe rascals come!"

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

  She had seen the cupboard open and the basket empty. Never had she hadsuch a fright in her life before. Thinking that her marriage-portionwas 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 hermother said to her: "That is no business of yours."

  Then she became furious, and said, that if we came to die, she wouldnot know where to find her marriage-portion.

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

  And thereupon I went to bed, leaving Gredel and her mother to come to asettlement together.

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

  Yes, indeed, she had had plenty of correction of that kind: but youcannot beat a girl of twenty: you cannot correct girls at that age; andthat 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, shevisited the garden, and her mother said to her, "You see, we have gotit 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 ofAugust, early in the morning, Catherine and I had seen Cousin George inhis char-a-banc coming down the valley of Dosenheim, and it seemed tous that he was out very early. The village was waking up; otherpeople, too, were going to work: I lay down, and about eight o'clock mywife woke me to tell me that the postman, Michel, was there. I camedown, and saw Michel standing in our parlor with his letter-bag underhis arm. He was thoughtful, and told me that the worst reports wereabroad; that they were speaking of the great battle near Wissembourg,where we had been defeated; that several maintained that we had lostten thousand men, and the Germans seventeen thousand; but that therewas nothing certain, because it was not known whence these rumorsproceeded, only that the commanding officer of Phalsbourg, Taillant,had proclaimed that morning that the inhabitants would be obliged tolay in provisions for six weeks. Naturally, such a proclamation setpeople a-thinking, and they said: "Have we a siege before us? Have wegone back to the times of the great retreat and downfall of the firstEmperor? Ought things forever to end in the same fashion?"

  My wife, Gredel, and I, stood listening to Michel, with lipscompressed, without interrupting him.

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

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

  Then I saw that he considered our prospects were not good. He handedme a letter from Monsieur le Sous-prefet--it was the last--telling meto watch false reports; that false news should be severely punished, byorder of our prefet, Monsieur Podevin.

  We could have wished no better than that the news had been false! Butat that time, everything that displeased the sous-prefets, the prefets,the Ministers, and the Emperor, was false, and everything that pleasedthem, everything that helped to deceive people--like that peacefulPlebiscite--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 ofexcitement in our village; men coming and going, women watching, peoplegoing into the wood, each with a bag, spade, and pickaxe; stablesclearing out; a great movement, and all faces full of care: I havealways thought that at that moment every one was hiding, buryinganything he could hide or bury. I was sorry I had not begun to sell mycorn sooner, when my cousin had cautioned me a week before; but myduties as mayor had prevented me: we must pay for our honors. I hadstill four cart-loads of corn in my barn--now where could I put them?And the cattle, and the furniture, the bedding, provisions of everysort? Never will our people forget those days, when every one wasexpecting, listening, and sayin
g: "We are like the bird upon the twig.We have toiled, and sweated, and saved for fifty years, to get a littleproperty of our own; to-morrow shall we have anything left? And nextweek, next month--shall we not be starving to death? And in those daysof distress, shall we be able to borrow a couple of liards upon ourland, or our house? Who will lend to us? And all this on account ofwhom? Scoundrels who have taken us in."

  Ah! if there is any justice above, as every honest man believes, theseabominable fellows will have a heavy reckoning to pay. So manymiserable men, women, children await them there; they are there todemand satisfaction for all their sufferings. Yes, I believe it. Butthey--oh! they believe in nothing! There are, indeed, dreadfulbrigands in this world!

  All that day was spent thus, in weariness and anxiety. Nothing wasknown. 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 yearsdid nothing but cry for tobacco licenses, stamp offices, promotion forhis 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 cameinto the mill, saying, "Monsieur le Maire, everything is going onwell--camarche--the enemy are being drawn into the plain: they arecoming into the net. To-morrow we shall hear that they are allexterminated, every one!"

  And the municipal councillors, Arnold, Frantz, Sepel, Baptiste Dida,the wood-monger, came crowding in, saying that the enemy must beexterminated; that fire must be set to the forest of Haguenau to roastthem, 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 theproclamations in the town, went up into our bacon stores, to send a fewprovisions 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 thatthe house was full of thieves; that there was no trusting anybody; andGredel, crying louder than she, that surely Frantz, that thief of aBadener, had made off with them. But mother had visited the bacon-rooma couple of days after Frantz had left; she had seen that everythingwas straight; and her wrath redoubled.

  Then said Gredel that perhaps Jacob, before leaving home, had put thehams into his bag with all the rest; but mother screamed, "It is afalsehood! I should have seen it. Jacob has never taken anythingwithout asking for it. He is an honest lad."

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

  About seven my cousin came back upon his char-a-banc. He was returningfrom Alsace; and I immediately ran into his house to hear what news hehad. George, in his large parlor, was pulling off his boots andputting 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 affairsare in splendid order! We have famous generals! Oh, yes! here israther a queer beginning; and, if matters go on in this way, we shallcome to a remarkable end."

  His wife, Marie Anne, was coming in from the kitchen: she set upon thetable a leg of mutton, bread, and wine. George sat down, and whilsteating, told me that two regiments of the line, a regiment of Turcos, abattalion of light infantry, and a regiment of light horse, with threeguns, had been posted in advance of Wissembourg, and that they werethere quietly bathing in the Lauter, and washing their clothes, rightin front of fifty thousand Germans, hidden in the woods; not to mentioneighty thousand more on our right, who were only waiting for a goodopportunity to cross the Rhine. They had been posted, as it were, inthe 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; ourmen were short of artillery; the Turcos, the light-armed men, and theline had fought like lions, one to six: they had even taken eight gunsin the beginning of the action; but German supports coming up in heavymasses 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 toretreat to the cover of the woods of Bitche going up the Vosse. It wassaid that a general had been killed, and that villages were lying inruins.

  It was at Bouxviller that my cousin had heard of this disaster, some ofthe light horsemen having arrived the same evening. There was also atalk of deserters; as if soldiers, after being routed, withoutknowledge of a woody country full of mountains, going straight beforethem to escape from the enemy, should be denounced as deserters. Thisis one of the abominations that we have seen since that time. Manyheartless people preferred crying out that these poor soldiers haddeserted rather than give them bread and wine: it was more convenient,and cheaper.

  "Now," said George, "all the army of Strasbourg, and that of theinterior, who should have been in perfect order, fresh, rested, andprovided with everything at Haguenau, but the rear of which is stilllagging behind on the railways as far as Luneville; all these arerunning down there, to check the invasion. Fourteen regiments ofcavalry, principally cuirassiers and chasseurs, are assembling atBrumath. Something is expected there; MacMahon is already on theheights of Reichshoffen, with the commander of engineers, Mohl, ofHaguenau, and other staff officers, to select his position. As fast asthe troops arrive they extend before Mederbronn. I heard this fromsome people who were flying with wives and children, their beds andother chattels on carts, as I was leaving Bouxviller about threeo'clock. They wanted to reach the fort of Petite Pierre; but hearingthat the fort is occupied by a company, they have moved towardStrasbourg. I think they were right. A great city, like Strasbourg,has always more resources than a small place, where they have only afew 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 asmuch furniture as I could upon two wagons, and drive at once toPhalsbourg; but my cousin told me that the gates would be closed; thatwe should have to wait outside until the reopening of the barriers, andthat we must hope that it would be time enough to-morrow.

  According to him, the great battle would not be fought for two or threedays 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 fiftythousand men who had made themselves masters of Wissembourg mightdescend the Sauer; but then we should be nearly equal, and it was tothe 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 thepresence of many listeners, and he believed, according to this, thatthe 5th army corps, which was extending in the direction of Metz, byBitche and Sarreguemines, under the orders of General de Failly, wouldhave time to arrive and support MacMahon. I thought so, too: it seemeda matter of course.

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

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

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

  The next day all was quiet in the village; everybody had hid hisvaluables, and they only feared one thing, and that was a sortie fromPhalsbourg to carry off our cattle. All the children were set to watchin the direction of Wechem; and if anything had stirred in thatquarter, all the cattle would have been driven into the woods in tenminutes.

  But there was no movement. All the soldiers of the line had gone, andthe commanding officer, Taillant, could not send the lads of ourvillage to carry away their own parents' cattle. So all this day, the10th of August, was quiet enough in our mountains.

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

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

  All was quiet until about ten o'clock at night. It was very warm; Iwas sitting on a bench before my mill, in my shirt-sleeves, thinking ofall my troubles. From time to time a thick cloud overshadowed themoon, which had not happened for a long time, and rain was hoped for.Gredel was washing the plates and dishes in the kitchen; my wife wastrotting up and down, peeping into the cupboards to see if anythingelse had been stolen besides her hams; in the village, windows andshutters 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 wererolling, a gust of wind was passing. What could it be? My wife andGredel had gone out, and were listening too. At that moment, from theother end of the village, arose a dispute which prevented us frommaking out this noise any longer, which was approaching from themountain, and I said to Catherine: "The drunkards at the 'Cruchon d'Or'begin these disturbances every night. I must put an end to that, forit is a disgrace to the parish."

  But I had scarcely said this when a crowd of people appeared in thestreet 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, anotherby the collar. He was making no resistance, and his horse followed himlimping, and hanging his head; the _bangard_ was leading him by thebridle.

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

  I was much astonished to see this fine tall fellow, with his helmet andhis cuirass, who could have shouldered his way in a minute through allthese people, going with them like a lamb. Cousin George had come upat the same moment. We hardly knew what to do about this business, forman 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 allburst in a great crowd into my large parlor downstairs, slamming thedoor in the face of all those brawlers who had nothing to do in thehouse; but they remained outside, never ceasing for a moment to shout:"A deserter!" And half the village was coming: in all directions youcould 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 thickmustaches, his tall figure, his sword at his side, his sleeves and hiscuirass stained with blood, and the skin on one side of his face tornaway and bruised all round to the back of the head, we saw at once thathe was not a deserter, and that something terrible had happened in ourneighborhood; and Placiard having again begun to tell us how he hadhimself caught this soldier in his garden, where the poor wretch wasgoing to hide, George cried indignantly: "Come now, does a man likethat hide himself? I tell you, M. Placiard, that it would have takentwenty like you to hold him, if he had chosen to resist."

  The cuirassier then turned his head and gazed at George; but he spokenot 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 bythe 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." Mywife took the bottle out of the cupboard and filled a glass; but thecuirassier would not drink: he looked on the ground before him, as ifsomething was before his eyes. What he had just told us made us turnpale.

  "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, inthe 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 grapeshothas mown them down. There are none left!"

  "THE GRAPESHOT HAS MOWN THEM DOWN. THERE ARE NONELEFT!"]

  "Oh!" cried Placiard, "now you see: what did I say? He is one of thosevillains who propagate false reports. Can six regiments be mown down?Did you not yourself say, Monsieur le Maire, that those six regimentsalone 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," continuedPlaciard. "Such are the orders of Monsieur le Sous-prefet."

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

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

  George and I looked at each other in alarm.

  "You have blood upon you," said my cousin, pointing to the soldier'scuirass, 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 Bavarianofficer--it stunned me--I could no longer see--my horse galloped awaywith me."

  "So you were hand-to-hand?"

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

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

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

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

  "The Prussians! The Prussians!"

  At the same moment a troop of disbanded horsemen were flying past ourwindows at full speed: they flashed past us like lightning; the crowdfell back; the women screamed: "Lord have mercy upon us! we are alllost!"

  After these cries, and the passage of these men, I stood as if rootedto the floor, listening to what was going on outside; but in anotherminute all was silence. Turning round, I saw that everybody,neighbors, men and w
omen, Placiard, the rural policeman, all hadslipped out behind. Gredel, my wife, George, the cuirassier, andmyself, stood alone in the room. My cousin said to me: "This man hastold 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 timefor calmness and courage; let everybody be prepared: we are going towitness terrible things."

  And turning to the soldier: "You may go, my friend," he said, "yourhorse 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; Ihelped the cuirassier to mount: George said to him: "Here, on theright, 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 didwe see that a shred of flesh was hanging down its leg, and that it hadlost a great deal of blood. My cousin followed, forgetting to saygood-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, leapingout of the hedges, smashing the young trees; instead of following theroad, they passed through the fields, crossed the river, and rode upthe hill in front, without troubling about the corps. There seemed noend of them!

  About six the bells began to ring for matins. It was Sunday, the 7thAugust, 1870; the weather was magnificent. Monsieur le Cure crossedthe street at nine, to go to church, but only a few old women attendedthe service to pray.

  Then commenced the endless passage of the defeated army retreating uponSarrebourg, down the valley; a spectacle of desolation such as I shallnever forget in my life. Hundreds of men who could scarcely berecognized as Frenchmen were coming up in disordered bands; cavalry,infantry, cuirassiers without cuirasses, horsemen on foot, footsoldiers on horseback, three-fourths unarmed! Crowds of men withoutofficers, all going straight on in silence.

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

  No more singing. No more cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" "A Berlin! aBerlin!"

  Dismay and discouragement were manifest in every countenance.

  Those who shall come after will see worse things than this: since menare wolves, foxes, hawks, owls, all this must come round again: ahundred times, a thousand times; from age to age, until theconsummation 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 thesharp claws upon the unhappy carcass of mankind. Each tears away hismorsel! And yet they all have faith, Lutherans and Catholics: they areall worthy people! And so on forever.

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