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diff --git a/old/50768-0.txt b/old/50768-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e295e9e..0000000 --- a/old/50768-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,21291 +0,0 @@ -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50768 *** - -MY MEMOIRS - -BY - -ALEXANDRE DUMAS - -TRANSLATED BY - -E. M. WALLER - -WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY - -ANDREW LANG - -IN SIX VOLUMES - -VOL. V - -1831 TO 1832 - -WITH A FRONTISPIECE - -NEW YORK - -THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - -1908 - - - - -CONTENTS - - - BOOK I - - CHAPTER I - - Organisation of the Parisian Artillery--Metamorphosis of my - uniform of a Mounted National Guardsman--Bastide--Godefroy - Cavaignac--Guinard--Thomas--Names of the batteries and - of their principal servants--I am summoned to seize the - _Chamber_--How many of us came to the rendezvous - - CHAPTER II - - Odilon Barrot, Préfet of the Seine--His soirées--His - proclamation upon the subject of riots--Dupont (de l'Eure) - and Louis-Philippe--Resignation of the ministry of Mole and - Guizot--The affair of the forest of Breteuil--The Laffitte - ministry--The prudent way in which registration was carried - out - - CHAPTER III - - Béranger as Patriot and Republican 20 - - CHAPTER IV - - Béranger, as Republican 28 - - CHAPTER V - - Death of Benjamin Constant--Concerning his life--Funeral - honours that were conferred upon him--His funeral--Law - respecting national rewards--The trial of the - ministers--Grouvelle and his sister--M. Mérilhou - and the neophyte--Colonel Lavocat--The Court of - Peers--Panic--Fieschi - - CHAPTER VI - - The artillerymen at the Louvre--Bonapartist plot to take - our cannon from us--Distribution of cartridges by Godefroy - Cavaignac--The concourse of people outside the Luxembourg - when the ministers were sentenced--Departure of the - condemned for Vincennes--Defeat of the judges--La Fayette - and the riot--Bastide and Commandant Barré on guard with - Prosper Mérimée - - CHAPTER VII - - We are surrounded in the Louvre courtyard--Our ammunition - taken by surprise--Proclamation of the Écoles--Letter of - Louis-Philippe to La Fayette--The Chamber vote of thanks to - the Colleges--Protest of the École polytechnique--Discussion - at the Chamber upon the General Commandership of the - National Guard--Resignation of La Fayette--The king's - reply--I am appointed second captain - - CHAPTER VIII - - The Government member--Chodruc-Duclos--His portrait--His - life at Bordeaux--His imprisonment at Vincennes--The - Mayor of Orgon--Chodruc-Duclos converts himself into - a Diogenes--M. Giraud-Savine--Why Nodier was growing - old--Stibert--A lesson in shooting--Death of Chodruc-Duclos - - CHAPTER IX - - Alphonse Rabbe--Madame Cardinal--Rabbe and the Marseilles - Academy--_Les Massénaires_--Rabbe in Spain--His return--The - _Old Dagger_--The Journal _Le Phocéen_--Rabbe in prison--The - writer of fables--_Ma pipe_ - - CHAPTER X - - Rabbe's friends--_La Sœur grise_--The historical résumés--M. - Brézé's advice--An imaginative man--Berruyer's style--Rabbe - with his hairdresser, his concierge and confectioner--_La - Sœur grise_ stolen--_Le Centaure_ - - CHAPTER XI - - Adèle--Her devotion to Rabbe--Strong meat--_Appel à - Dieu_--_L'âme et la comédie humaine_--_La mort_--_Ultime - lettere_--Suicide--_À Alphonse Rabbe_, by Victor Hugo - - CHAPTER XII - - Chéron--His last compliments to Harel--Obituary of - 1830--My official visit on New Year's Day--A striking - costume--Read the _Moniteur_--Disbanding of the Artillery - of the National Guard--First representation of _Napoléon - Bonaparte_--Delaistre--Frédérick-Lemaître - - BOOK II - - CHAPTER I - - The Abbé Châtel--The programme of his church--The Curé of - Lèves and M. Clausel de Montals--The Lévois embrace the - religion of the primate of the Gauls--Mass in French--The - Roman curé--A dead body to inter - - CHAPTER II - - Fine example of religious toleration--The Abbé Dallier--The - Circes of Lèves--Waterloo after Leipzig--The Abbé Dallier is - kept as hostage--The barricades--The stones of Chartres--The - outlook--Preparations for fighting - CHAPTER III - - Attack of the barricade--A sequel to Malplaquet--The - Grenadier--The Chartrian philanthropists--Sack of the - bishop's palace--A fancy dress--How order was restored--The - culprits both small and great--Death of the Abbé - Ledru--Scruples of conscience of the former schismatics--The - _Dies iræ_ of Kosciusko - - CHAPTER IV - - The Abbé de Lamennais--His prediction of the Revolution of - 1830--Enters the Church--His views on the Empire--Casimir - Delavigne, Royalist--His early days--Two pieces of poetry - by M. de Lamennais--His literary vocation--_Essay on - Indifference in Religious Matters_--Reception given to - this book by the Church--The academy of the château de la - Chesnaie - - CHAPTER V - - The founding of l'_Avenir_--L'Abbé Lacordaire--M. - Charles de Montalembert--His article on the sacking - of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--l'_Avenir_ and the new - literature--My first interview with M. de Lamennais--Lawsuit - against l'_Avenir_--MM. de Montalembert and Lacordaire as - schoolmasters--Their trial in the _Cour des pairs_--The - capture of Warsaw--Answer of four poets to a word spoken by - a statesman - - CHAPTER VI - - Suspension of l'_Avenir_--Its three principal editors - present themselves at Rome--The Abbé de Lamennais as - musician--The trouble it takes to obtain an audience of the - Pope--The convent of Santo-Andrea della Valle--Interview - of M. de Lamennais with Gregory XVI.--The statuette of - Moses--The doctrines of l'_Avenir_ are condemned by the - Council of Cardinals--Ruin of M. de Lamennais--The _Paroles - d'un Croyant_ - - CHAPTER VII - - Who Gannot was--Mapah--His first miracle--The wedding - at Cana--Gannot, phrenologist--Where his first ideas on - phrenology came from--The unknown woman--The change wrought - in Gannot's life--How he becomes Mapah - - CHAPTER VIII - - The god and his sanctuary--He informs the Pope of his - overthrow--His manifestoes--His portrait---Doctrine of - escape--Symbols of that religion--Chaudesaigues takes me to - the Mapah--Iswara and Pracriti--Questions which are wanting - in actuality---War between the votaries of _bidja_ and the - followers of _sakti_--My last interview with the Mapah - - CHAPTER IX - - Apocalypse of the being who was once called Caillaux - - BOOK III - - CHAPTER I - - The scapegoat of power--Legitimist hopes--The - expiatory mass--The Abbé Olivier--The Curé of - Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--Pachel--Where I begin - to be wrong--General Jacqueminot--Pillage of - Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--The sham Jesuit and the Préfet of - Police--The Abbé Paravey's room - - CHAPTER II - - The Préfet of Police at the Palais-Royal--The function - of fire--Valérius, the truss-maker--Demolition of the - archbishop's palace--The Chinese album--François Arago--The - spectators of the riot--The erasure of the fleurs-de-lis--I - give in my resignation a second time--MM. Chambolle and - Casimir Périer - - CHAPTER III - - My dramatic faith wavers--Bocage and Dorval reconcile - me with myself--A political trial wherein I deserved to - figure--Downfall of the Laffitte Ministry--Austria and the - Duc de Modena--Maréchal Maison is Ambassador at Vienna--The - story of one of his dispatches--Casimir Périer Prime - Minister--His reception at the Palais-Royal--They make him - the _amende honorable_ - - CHAPTER IV - - Trial of the artillerymen--Procureur-général - Miller--Pescheux d'Herbinville--Godefroy - Cavaignac--Acquittal of the accused--The ovation they - received--Commissioner Gourdin--The cross of July--The red - and black ribbon--Final rehearsals of _Antony_ - - CHAPTER V - - The first representation of _Antony_--The play, the actors, - the public--_Antony_ at the Palais-Royal--Alterations of the - _dénoûment_ - - CHAPTER VI - - The inspiration under which I composed _Antony_--The - Preface--Wherein lies the moral of the piece--Cuckoldom, - Adultery and the Civil Code--_Quem nuptiæ demonstrant_--Why - the Critics exclaimed that my Drama was immoral--Account - given by the least malevolent among them--How prejudices - against bastardy are overcome - - CHAPTER VII - - A word on criticism--Molière estimated by Bossuet, by - Jean-Jacques Rousseau and by Bourdaloue--An anonymous - libel--Critics of the seventeenth and nineteenth - centuries--M. François de Salignac de la Motte de - Fénelon--Origin of the word _Tartuffe_--M. Taschereau and M. - Étienne - - CHAPTER VIII - - Thermometer of Social Crises--Interview with M. Thiers--His - intentions with regard to the Théâtre-Français--Our - conventions--_Antony_ comes back to the rue de - Richelieu--_The Constitutionnel_--Its leader against - Romanticism in general, and against my drama in - particular--Morality of the ancient theatre--Parallel - between the Théâtre-Français and that of the - Porte-Saint-Martin--First suspension of _Antony_ - - CHAPTER IX - - My discussion with M. Thiers--Why he had been compelled - to suspend _Antony_--Letter of Madame Dorval to the - _Constitutionnel_--M. Jay crowned with roses--My lawsuit - with M. Jouslin de Lasalle--There are still judges in - Berlin! - - CHAPTER X - - Republican banquet at the _Vendanges de Bourgogne_--The - toasts--_To Louis-Philippe!_--Gathering of those who were - decorated in July--Formation of the board--Protests--Fifty - yards of ribbon--A dissentient--Contradiction in the - _Moniteur_--Trial of Évariste Gallois--His examination--His - acquittal - - CHAPTER XI - - The incompatibility of literature with riotings--_La - Maréchale d'Ancre_--My opinion concerning that - piece--_Farruck le Maure_--The début of Henry Monnier at the - Vaudeville--I leave Paris--Rouen--Havre--I meditate going - to explore Trouville--What is Trouville?--The consumptive - English lady--Honfleur--By land or by sea - - CHAPTER XII - - Appearance of Trouville--Mother Oseraie--How people are - accommodated at Trouville when they are married--The - price of painters and of the community of martyrs--Mother - Oseraie's acquaintances--How she had saved the life of - Huet, the landscape painter--My room and my neighbour's--A - twenty-franc dinner for fifty sous--A walk by the - sea-shore--Heroic resolution - - CHAPTER XIII - - A reading at Nodier's--The hearers and the - readers--Début--_Les Marrons du feu_--La Camargo and the - Abbé Desiderio--Genealogy of a dramatic idea--Orestes - and Hermione--Chimène and Don Sancho--_Goetz von - Berlichingen_--Fragments--How I render to Cæsar the things - that are Cæsar's - - CHAPTER XIV - - Poetry is the Spirit of God--The Conservatoire and l'École - of Rome--Letter of counsel to my Son--Employment of my - time at Trouville--Madame de la Garenne--The Vendéan - Bonnechose--M. Beudin--I am pursued by a fish--What came of - it - - CHAPTER XV - - Why M. Beudin came to Trouville--How I knew him under - another name--Prologue of a drama--What remained to - be done--Division into three parts--I finish _Charles - VII._--Departing from Trouville--In what manner I learn of - the first performance of _Marion Delorme_ - - CHAPTER XVI - - _Marion Delorme_ - - CHAPTER XVII - - Collaboration - - BOOK IV - - CHAPTER I - - The feudal edifice and the industrial--The workmen of - Lyons--M. Bouvier-Dumolard--General Roguet--Discussion - and signing of the tariff regulating the price of the - workmanship of fabrics--The makers refuse to submit to - it--_Artificial prices_ for silk-workers--Insurrection - of Lyons--Eighteen millions on the civil list--Timon's - calculations--An unlucky saying of M. de Montalivet - - CHAPTER II - - Death of _Mirabeau_--The accessories of _Charles VII._--A - shooting party--Montereau--A temptation I cannot - resist--Critical position in which my shooting companions - and I find ourselves--We introduce ourselves into an empty - house by breaking into it at night--Inspection of the - premises--Improvised supper--As one makes one's bed, so - one lies on it--I go to see the dawn rise--Fowl and duck - shooting--Preparations for breakfast--Mother Galop - - CHAPTER III - - Who Mother Galop was--Why M. Dupont-Delporte was absent-- - How I quarrelled with Viardot--Rabelais's quarter of an - hour--Providence No. I--The punishment of Tantalus--A waiter - who had not read Socrates--Providence No. 2--A breakfast for - four--Return to Paris - - CHAPTER IV - - _Le Masque de fer_--Georges' suppers--The garden - of the Luxembourg by moonlight--M. Scribe and - the _Clerc de la Basoche_--M. d'Épagny and _Le - Clerc et le Théologien_--Classical performances - at the Théâtre-Français--_Les Guelfes_, by M. - Arnault--Parenthesis--Dedicatory epistle to the prompter - - CHAPTER V - - M. Arnault's _Pertinax_--_Pizarre_, by M. Fulchiron--M. - Fulchiron as a politician--M. Fulchiron as magic poet--A - word about M. Viennet--My opposite neighbour at the - performance of _Pertinax_--Splendid failure of the - play--Quarrel with my _vis-à-vis_--The newspapers take it - up--My reply in the _Journal de Paris_--Advice of M. Pillet - - CHAPTER VI - - Chateaubriand ceases to be a peer of France--He leaves - the country--Béranger's song thereupon--Chateaubriand as - versifier--First night of _Charles VII._--Delafosse's - vizor--Yaqoub and Frédérick-Lemaître--_La Reine - d'Espagne_--M. Henri de Latouche--His works, talent and - character--Interlude of _La Reine d'Espagne_--Preface of the - play--Reports of the pit collected by the author - - CHAPTER VII - - Victor Escousse and Auguste Lebras - - CHAPTER VIII - - First performance of _Robert le Diable_--Véron, manager - of the Opéra--His opinion concerning Meyerbeer's - music--My opinion concerning Véron's intellect--My - relations with him--His articles and _Memoirs_--Rossini's - judgment of _Robert le Diable_--Nourrit, the - preacher--Meyerbeer--First performance of the _Fuite de - Law_, by M. Mennechet--First performance of _Richard - Darlington_--Frédérick--Lemaître--Delafosse--Mademoiselle - Noblet - - CHAPTER IX Horace Vernet - - CHAPTER X - - Paul Delaroche - - CHAPTER XI - - Eugène Delacroix - - CHAPTER XII - - Three portraits in one frame - - CHAPTER XIII - - Collaboration--A whim of Bocage--Anicet - Bourgeois--_Teresa_--Drama at the Opéra-Comique--Laferrière - and the eruption of Vesuvius--Mélingue--Fancy-dress ball - at the Tuileries--The place de Grève and the barrière - Saint-Jacques--The death penalty - - CHAPTER XIV - - The peregrinations of Casimir Delavigne--_Jeanne - Vaubernier_--Rougemont--His translation of Cambronne's - _mot_--First representation of _Teresa_--Long and short - pieces--Cordelier Delanoue and his _Mathieu Luc_--Closing - of the Taitbout Hall and arrest of the leaders of the - Saint-Simonian cult - - CHAPTER XV - - Mély-Janin's _Louis XI._ - - CHAPTER XVI - - Casimir Delavigne's _Louis XI._ - - NOTE (Béranger) - - NOTE (de Latouche) - - - - -THE MEMOIRS OF ALEXANDRE DUMAS - - - - -BOOK I - - - - -CHAPTER I - - - Organisation of the Parisian Artillery--Metamorphosis of my - uniform of a Mounted National Guardsman--Bastide--Godefroy - Cavaignac--Guinard--Thomas--Names of the batteries and - of their principal servants--I am summoned to seize the - _Chamber_--How many of us came to the rendezvous - - -I am obliged to retrace my steps, as the putting out to nurse of -_Antony_ at the Porte-Sainte-Martin has carried me further than I -intended. - -Bixio had given me a definite answer with regard to my joining the -artillery, and I was incorporated in the fourth battery under Captain -Olivier. - -Just a word or two upon the constitution of this artillery. - -The order creating the Garde Nationale provided for a legion of -artillery comprised of four batteries. - -General La Fayette appointed Joubert provisional colonel of the -legion, which consisted of four batteries. It was the same Joubert at -whose house, in the Passage Dauphine, a quantity of powder had been -distributed and many bullets cast in the July Days. La Fayette had also -appointed four captains to enlist men. When the men were enlisted, -these captains were replaced by picked officers. - -Arnoux was appointed head captain of the first battery. I have already -mentioned that the Duc d'Orléans was entered in this battery. Guinard -was appointed first captain, and Godefroy Cavaignac second captain, of -the second battery. Bastide was appointed senior captain, and Thomas -junior captain, of the third battery. Finally, Olivier was first -captain, and Saint-Évre second captain, of the fourth battery. - -The first and second battery formed a squadron; the third and fourth a -second squadron. - -The first squadron was commanded by Thierry, who has since become a -municipal councillor, and is now Medical Superintendent of Prisons, I -believe. The second squadron was commanded by a man named Barré, whom I -lost sight of after 1830, and I have forgotten what has become of him. -Finally, the whole were commanded by Comte Pernetti, whom the king had -appointed our colonel. - -I had, therefore, reached the crown of my wishes: I was an artilleryman! - -There only remained for me to exchange my uniform as a mounted national -guardsman for an artillery uniform, and to make myself known to my -commanding officers. My exchange of uniform was not a long job. My -jacket and trousers were of the same style and colour as those of the -artillery, so I only had to have a stripe of red cloth sewed on the -trousers instead of the silver one; then, to exchange my epaulettes -and my silver cross-belt at a military outfitter's for epaulettes and -a red woollen foraging rope. The same with regard to my schako, where -the silver braid and aigrette of cock's feathers had to be replaced by -woollen braiding and a horse-hair busby. We did not need to trouble -ourselves about carbines, for the Government lent us these; "_lent -them_" is the exact truth, for twice they took them away from us! I -lighted upon a very honest military outfitter, who gave me woollen -braid, kept all my silver trimmings, and only asked me for twenty -francs in return; though, it is true, I paid for my sword separately. -The day after I had received my complete costume, at eight o'clock in -the morning, I made my appearance at the Louvre to take my part in -the manœuvres. We had there twenty-four pieces of eight, and twenty -thousand rounds for firing. - -The Governor of the Louvre was named Carrel, but he had nothing in -common with Armand Carrel, and I do not think he was any relation to -him. - -The artillery was generally Republican in tone; the second and third -battery, in particular, affected these views. The first and fourth were -more reactionary; there would be quite fifty men among them who, in the -moment of danger, would unite with the others. - -As my opinions coincided with those of Bastide, Guinard, Cavaignac and -Thomas, it is with them that I shall principally deal; as for Captains -Arnoux and Olivier, I knew them but little then and have never had -occasion to see them again. May I, therefore, be allowed to say a -few words of these men, whose names, since 1830, are to be found in -every conspiracy that arose? Their names have become historic; it is, -therefore, fitting that the men who bore them, or who, perhaps, bear -them still, should be made known in their true light. - -Let us begin with Bastide, as he played the most considerable part, -having been Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1848. Bastide was already -at this time a man of thirty, with an expression of countenance that -was both gentle and yet firm; his face was long and pale, and his black -hair was close cut; he had a thick black moustache, and blue eyes, with -an expression of deep and habitual melancholy. He was tall and thin, -extremely deft-handed, although he looked rather awkward on account of -the unusual length of his neck; in conclusion, he was an adept in the -use of sword and pistol, especially the latter, and in what is called -in duelling terms, _la main malheureuse._[1] - -So much for his physical characteristics. Morally, Bastide was a -thorough Parisian, a thorough native of the rue Montmartre, wedded to -his gutter, and, like Madame de Staël, he preferred it to the lake -of Geneva; unable to do without Paris no matter how dirty it was, -physically, morally, or politically; preferring imprisonment in Paris -to exile in the most beautiful country in the universe. He had been -exiled for several years, and spent two or three years in London. I -have heard him say since, that, rather than return there even for two -or three months, he would let himself get shot. He has a delightful -country house in the neighbourhood of Paris, to which he never goes. -Beneath an extremely unsophisticated manner, Bastide concealed real -knowledge; but you had to discover it for yourself; and, when he took -the trouble to be amusing, his conversation was full of witty sallies -but, as he always spoke very low, only his near neighbour benefited -by it. It must be admitted that this quite satisfied him, for I never -saw a less ambitious man than he in this respect. He was a bundle -of contradictions: he seemed to be nearly always idle, but was, in -reality, nearly always busy, often over trifles, as Horace in the Roman -forum, and, like Horace, he was completely absorbed in his trifling -for the time being; more often still he was occupied over difficult -and serious problems in mathematics or mechanics. He was brave without -being conscious of the fact, so simple and natural a quality did -bravery seem to his temperament and character. I shall have occasion -later to record the miraculous feats of courage he performed, and -the deliciously cool sayings he uttered while actually under fire, -between the years 1830 to 1852. During deliberations Bastide usually -kept silent; if his opinion were asked and he gave it, it was always -to advise that the question in hand be put into execution as promptly -and as openly, and even as brutally, as possible. For example, let -us refer to the interview between the Republicans and the king on 30 -July 1830; Bastide was among them, awaiting the arrival of the king, -just as were the rest. This interval of waiting was put to good use -by the representatives of Republican opinion. Little accustomed to -the presence of crowned heads or of those on the eve of coronation, -they discussed among themselves as to what they ought to do when the -lieutenant-general should appear. Each person gave his opinion, and -Bastide was asked for his. "What must we do?" he said. "Why, open the -window and chuck him into the street." - -If this advice had been as honestly that of the others as it was his -own, he would have put it into execution. He had a facile, and even a -graceful, pen. In the _National_ it was he who had to write impossible -articles; he succeeded, as Méry did, in the matter of bouts-rimés with -an almost miraculous cleverness. When Minister of Foreign Affairs, he -took upon himself the business of everybody else, and he a minister, -not only did his own work, but that, also, of his secretaries. We must -look to diplomatic Europe to pronounce upon the value of his work. - -Godefroy Cavaignac, as he had recalled to the memory of the Duc -d'Orléans, was the son of the member of the convention, Jean Baptiste -Cavaignac; and, we will add, brother to Eugène Cavaignac, then an -officer in the Engineers at Metz, and, later, a general in Algeria, -finally dictator in France from June to December 1848; a noble and -disinterested character, who will remain in history as a glittering -contrast to those that were to succeed him. Godefroy Cavaignac was -then a man of thirty-five, with fair hair, and a long red moustache; -although his bearing was military, he stooped somewhat; smoked -unceasingly, flinging out sarcastic clever sayings between the clouds -of smoke; was very clear in discussion, always saying what he thought, -and expressing himself in the best words; he seemed to be better -educated than Bastide, although, in reality, he was less so; he took -to writing from fancy, and then wrote a species of short poems, or -novelettes, or slight dramas (I do not know what to call them) of -great originality, and very uncommon strength. I will mention two of -these _opuscules_: one that is known to everybody--_Une Guerre de -Cosaques_, and another, which everybody overlooks, which I read once, -and could never come across again: it was called _Est-ce vous!_ One of -his chansons was sung everywhere in 1832, entitled _À la chie-en-lit!_ -which was the funniest thing in the world. Like Bastide he was -extremely brave, but perhaps less determined; there always seemed to -me to be great depths of indifference and of Epicurean philosophy in -his character. After being very intimate, we were ten years without -seeing one another; then, suddenly, one day, without knowing it, -we found ourselves seated side by side at the same table, and the -whole dinner-time was spent in one long happy gossip over mutual -recollections. We separated with hearty handshakes and promises not to -let it be such a long time before seeing one another again. A month -or two after, when I was talking of him, some one said, "But Godefroy -Cavaignac is dead!" I knew nothing of his illness, death or burial. - -Our passage through this world is, indeed, a strange matter, if it be -not merely a preliminary to another life! - -Guinard was notable for his warm-hearted, loyal characteristics; he -would weep like a child when he heard of a fine deed or great misery. A -man of marvellous despatch, you could have said of him, as Kléber did -of Scheswardin. "Go there and get killed and so save the army!" I am -not even sure he would have considered it necessary to answer: "Yes, -general"; he would have said nothing, but he would have gone and got -killed. His life, moreover, was one long sacrifice to his convictions; -he gave up to them all he held most dear--liberty, his fortune and -health. - -From the single sentence we have quoted of Thomas, when he was -accosted by M. Thiers on 30 July, my readers can judge of his mind -and character. Bastide and he were in partnership, and possessed a -woodyard. He was stout-hearted and upright, and had a clever head -for business. Unaided, alone, and simply by his wonderful and honest -industry, he kept the _National_ afloat when it was on the verge of -shipwreck after the death of Carrel, from the year 1836 until 1848, -when the long struggle bore successful fruit for everybody except -himself. - -But now let us pass on from the artillerymen to the composition of -their batteries. - -Each battery was dubbed by a name derived from a special -characteristic. - -Thus the first was called _The Aristocrat._ Its ranks contained, as -we already know, M. le Duc d'Orléans, then MM. de Tracy, Jal, Paravey -(who was afterwards a councillor of state), Étienne Arago, Schoelcher, -Loëve-Weymars, Alexandre Basset and Duvert. - -The second was called _The Republican._ We are acquainted with its -two captains, Guinard and Cavaignac; the principal artillerymen -were--Guiaud, Gervais, Blaize, Darcet fils and Ferdinand Flocon. - -The third was called _La Puritaine_, and it was thus named after its -captain, Bastide. Bastide, who was on the staff of the _National_, was -the champion of the religious questions, which this newspaper had a -tendency to attack after the manner of the _Constitutionnel._ Thence -originated the report of his absolute submission to the practices -of religion. The _Puritaine_ counted amongst its gunners--Carral, -Barthélemy-Saint-Hilaire, Grégoire, Séchan. - -The fourth was called _La Meurtrière_, on account of the large number -of doctors it contained. We have mentioned its captains; these are the -names of the chief "murderers"--Bixio, medical student; Doctors Trélat, -Laussedat, Jules Guyot, Montègre, Jourdan, Houet and Raspail, who was -half a doctor. The others were Prosper Mérimée, Lacave-Laplagne, who -has since become Minister of Finance; Ravoisié, Baltard, the architect; -Desvaux, student, afterwards a lieutenant in the July revolution, -and, later still, one of the bravest and most brilliant officers in -the whole army; lastly, Bocage and myself. Of course, there were many -others in these batteries, for the artillery, I believe, numbered eight -hundred men, but we are here only mentioning those whose names survived. - -The discipline was very strict: three times a week there was drill from -six to ten in the morning, in the quadrangle of the Louvre, and twice a -month shooting practice at Vincennes. - -I had given a specimen of my strength in lifting--with either five, -three, or one other, when the other servants were supposed to be either -killed, or _hors de combat_,-—pieces of eight weighing from three to -four hundred kilogrammes, when, one day, I received an invitation to -be at the Palais-Bourbon at four o'clock in the afternoon, fully armed. -The business in hand was _the taking of the Chamber._ We had taken a -sort of oath, after the manner of Freemasons and Carbonari, by which -we had engaged to obey the commands of our chiefs without questioning. -This one appeared rather high-handed, I must admit; but my oath was -taken! So, at half-past three, I put on my artillery dress, placed six -cartridges in my pouch and one in my carbine, and made my way towards -the pont de la Concorde. I noticed with as much surprise as pride, -that I was the first arrival. I only strutted about the more proudly, -searching along the quays and bridges and streets for the arrival of my -seven hundred and ninety-nine comrades who, four o'clock having struck, -seemed to me to be late in coming, when I saw a blue and red uniform -coming towards me. It was worn by Bixio. Two of us then here alone to -capture four hundred and forty-nine deputies! It was hardly enough; but -patriotism attempts ambitious things! - -Half-past four, five, half-past five and six o'clock struck. - -The deputies came out and filed past us, little suspecting that these -two fierce-eyed artillerymen who watched them pass, as they leant -against the parapet of the bridge, had come to capture them. Behind the -deputies appeared Cavaignac in civilian dress. We went up to him. - -"It will not take place to-day," he said to us; "it is put off until -next week." - -"Good!" I replied; "next week, then!" - -He shook hands and disappeared. I turned to Bixio. - -"I hope this postponement till next week will not prevent us from -dining as usual?" I said. - -"Quite the reverse. I am as hungry as a wolf! Nothing makes one so -empty as conspiring." - -So we went off and dined with that careless appetite which is the -prerogative of conspirators of twenty-eight years of age. - -I have always suspected my new chiefs of wishing to, what they call -in regimental parlance, test me; in which case Cavaignac can only have -come just to make sure of my faithfulness in answering to his summons. - -Was or was not Bixio in his confidence? I never could make out. - - -[1] TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.--Applied to a duellist who always kills or -wounds his opponent. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - - Odilon Barrot, Préfet of the Seine--His soirées--His - proclamation upon the subject of riots--Dupont (de l'Eure) - and Louis-Philippe--Resignation of the ministry of Molé and - Guizot--The affair of the forest of Breteuil--The Laffitte - ministry--The prudent way in which registration was carried - out - - -Now, the session of the Chamber had been an animated one that day, -and if we had burst into the parliament hall we should have found the -deputies in heated discussion over a proclamation issued by Odilon -Barrot. - -It was a singular position for a man, outwardly so upright and -unbending as was Odilon Barrot, which was created by, on the one -hand, his duties as Préfet of the Seine about the person of the king -and, on the other, the good terms of friendship existing between him -and most of us. He held soirées at his house, to which we flocked in -large numbers; at which his wife, then still quite young, who seemed -a more ardent Republican than her husband, did the honours with the -correctness of a Cornelia that was not without a charm of its own. -We of course discussed nothing but politics at these gatherings; and -especially did we urge Odilon Barrot, in his official capacity as -Préfet of the Seine, to hunt for the famous programme of the Hôtel de -Ville, which had disappeared on 2 August, and had become more invisible -even than the famous provisional government which was represented by a -round table, empty bottles and a clerk who never stopped writing except -when the pen was snatched out of his hands. That programme had never -been discovered from that day to this! Our suggestion worried him much, -for our insistence placed him in the following dilemma:-- - -"My dear Odilon" (we would say), "all the strength of the Government -is vested in La Fayette and Dupont (de l'Eure) and yourself; if you, -for instance, were to withdraw, we are persuaded that La Fayette and -Dupont, the two blind men whom you, good dog, lead by the string, will -also retire.... So we are going to compel you to retire." - -"But how?" - -"Oh, it is simple enough! We are going to raise a disturbance to carry -off the king from the Palais-Royal.... Either you fire upon us, in -which case you make yourself unpopular; or you abstain from firing on -us, in which case we carry off the king, take him to Ham and proclaim -the Republic." - -Odilon was well aware that this dilemma was only a joke; but he also -knew that there was a feverish spirit in us which any unlooked for -spark might kindle into a blaze and lead to the maddest enterprises -being attempted. - -One day we drove him into a corner, and he promised that, on the first -opportunity, he would make his views known both to the court and to us. -This opportunity was the procession which, as I have mentioned, marched -through Paris, and proceeded to the Palais-Royal, and to the château de -Vincennes, shouting, "Death to the ministers!" It will be recollected -that the king and Odilon Barrot had appeared upon the terrace, and that -the men who led the procession had thereupon shouted, "Vive Odilon -Barrot!" forgetting to shout "Vive le roi!" Whereat Louis-Philippe, as -we know, had replied: "These are the sons of the men whom, in 1792, I -heard shouting: 'Vive Pétion!'" - -The allusion had annoyed Odilon Barrot considerably, and he decided to -issue a proclamation of his own. He promised to give us this explicit -proclamation. - -It is a mania with every man who wants to be looked upon as a statesman -to produce a proclamation, in fact he does not consider himself -entitled to the name of statesman until he has. His proclamation is -issued and received by the people, who read it and see in it the -sanction of some power or other, which they either obey or disobey -according to their individual views of politics. Unfortunately, this -proclamation, upon which Odilon was counting greatly, demonstrated the -fact that the Préfet of the Seine took a middle course, which offended -at the same time both the Court party and the Republicans. We will -reproduce it here in its entirety. Be it understood that our readers -are free to read only the sentences in italics, or to pass it over -altogether unread-- - - "Citizens, your magistrates are deeply distressed at the - disorders which have recently been disturbing the public - peace, at a time when commerce and industry, which are in - much need of protection, are beginning to rise above a long - crisis of depression. - - "_It is not vengeance that this people of Paris, who are - the bravest and most generous in the world, are demanding, - but justice!_ Justice, in fact, is a right, a necessity, to - strong men; vengeance is but the delight of the weak and - cowardly. _The proposition of the Chamber is an_ INOPPORTUNE - STEP _calculated to make the people imagine that there is - a concerted design to interfere with the ordinary course - of justice with respect to the ex-ministers._ Delays have - arisen, which are merely the carrying out of those forms - which surround justice with greater solemnity of character; - and these delays but sanction and strengthen the opinion - _of which our ungovernable enemies, ever lying in wait to - disunite us_, persistently take advantage. Hence has arisen - that popular agitation, which men of rectitude and good - citizens regard as an actual mistake. I swear to you in all - good faith, fellow-citizens, that the course of justice - has neither been suspended, nor interrupted, nor will it - be. The preparation of the accusation brought against the - ex-ministers still continues: _they have come under the law - and the law alone shall decide their fate._ - - "No good citizen could wish or demand anything else; and - yet cries of "death" are uttered in the streets and public - places; but what are such instigations, such placards, - but violent measures against justice? We merely desire to - do as we would ourselves be done by, namely, be judged - dispassionately and impartially. Well, there are certain - misguided or malevolent persons who threaten the judges - before the trial has begun. People of Paris, you will - not stand by such violent conduct; the accused should be - sacred in your eyes; they are placed under the protection - of the law; to insult them, to hinder their defence, to - anticipate the decrees of justice, is to violate the laws - of every civilised society; it is to be wanting in the - first principles of liberty; it is worse than a crime; - it is cowardly! There is not a single citizen among this - great and glorious people who cannot but feel that it is - his honoured duty to prevent an outrage that will be a blot - upon our Revolution. Let justice be done! But violence - is not justice. And this is the cry of all well-meaning - people, and will be the principle guiding the conduct of our - magistrates. Under these grave circumstances they will count - upon the concurrence and the assistance of all true patriots - to uphold the measures that are taken to bring about public - order." - -This proclamation is, perhaps, a little too lengthy and diffuse and -tedious; but we should remember that Odilon Barrot was a barrister -before he became Préfet of the Seine. However, in the midst of -this ocean of words, a flood of language by which the préfet had, -perhaps, hoped that the king would be mystified, His Majesty noted -this sentence--"_The proposal of the Chamber was an inopportune step -leading people to suppose it was a concerted thing...._" And the -Republicans caught hold of this one--"_Our ungovernable enemies, ever -on the watch to disunite us,_" etc. - -The step that the Préfet of the Seine blamed was the king's own secret -wish, interpreted by the address of the Chamber; so that, by finding -fault with the address of the Chamber, the Préfet of the Seine allowed -himself to blame the secret wish of the king. - -From that moment, the fall of the Préfet of the Seine was decided upon. -How could Louis-Philippe, with his plans for reigning and governing at -the same time, keep a man in his service who dared to find fault with -his own secret wishes? It was useless for M. Odilon Barrot to try to -deceive himself; from that hour dates the king's dislike to him: it was -that proclamation of 1830, which postponed his three hours' ministry -to 1848. Then, on the other hand, he broke with the Republican party -because he spoke of them as his _ungovernable enemies._ - -The same night, or the day after the appearance of this proclamation, -Godefroy Cavaignac cast Odilon Barrot's horoscope in these pregnant -words-- - -"My dear friend, you are played out!" - -This is what really passed at the Palais-Royal. The king was furious -with the audacity of the _pettifogging little lawyer._ The _little -lawyer_, however, was to take his revenge for this epithet two years -later, by annulling the sentence on the young artist Geoffroy, who -had been illegally condemned to death by the court-martial that had -been instituted on account of the state of siege at the time. It was a -splendid and noble method of being revenged, which won back for Odilon -ten years popularity! So his fall was decided at the Palais-Royal. -But it was not a matter that was very painful to the ministry which -was in power in November 1830; this was composed only of M. Molé, a -deserter from the Napoléonic camp; of M. de Broglie, a deserter from -the Royalist camp; of M. Guizot, the man of the _Moniteur de Gand_; -M. Casimir Périer, the banker _whose bank closed at four o'clock_, -and who, up to the last, had struggled against the Revolution; M. -Sébastiani, who, on the 30th, had announced that the white flag was his -standard; and finally, General Gérard, the last minister of Charles X., -who, to keep in power, had only had to get the Ordinance, which the -flight of the Elder Branch left blank, signed by the Younger Branch. -It will be understood that none of these men had the least personal -attachment to Odilon Barrot. So, when the king proposed the dismissal -of the Préfet of the Seine, they all unanimously exclaimed, "Just as -you wish, seigneur!" Only one voice cried, "_Veto!_" that of Dupont -(de l'Eure). Now, Dupont had this one grand fault in the eyes of -politicians (and the king was the foremost politician of his day), he -persisted in sticking both to his own opinions and to his friends. - -"If Odilon Barrot goes, I also depart!" said the honest old man flatly. - -This was a more serious matter, for if the withdrawal of Odilon Barrot -involved that of Dupont (de l'Eure), the withdrawal of Dupont would -also mean that of La Fayette with him. Now, La Fayette's resignation -might very well, in the end, involve that of the king himself. It -would, moreover, cause ill-feeling between the king and Laffitte, who -was another staunch friend of Odilon Barrot. True, the king was not -disinclined for a rupture with Laffitte: there are certain services -so great that they can only be repaid by ingratitude; but the king -only wished to quarrel with Laffitte in his own time and at his own -convenience, when such a course would be expedient and not prejudicial. -The grave question was referred to a consensus of opinion for solution. - -M. Sébastiani won the honours of the sitting by his suggestion of -himself making a personal application to M. Odilon Barrot to obtain his -voluntary resignation. Of course, Dupont (de l'Eure) was not present at -this secret confabulation. They settled to hold another council that -night. The king was late, contrary to his custom. As he entered the -cabinet, he did not perceive Dupont (de l'Eure) talking in a corner of -the room with M. Bignon. - -"Victory, messieurs!" he exclaimed, in an exulting voice; "the -resignation of the Préfet of the Seine is settled, and General La -Fayette, realising the necessity for the resignation, himself consented -to it." - -"What did you say, sire?" said Dupont (de l'Eure) hastily, coming out -of the darkness into the circle of light which revealed his presence to -the king. - -"Oh! you are there, are you, Monsieur Dupont," said the king, rather -embarrassed. "Well, I was saying that General La Fayette has ceased to -oppose the resignation of M. Barrot." - -"Sire," replied Dupont, "the statement your Majesty has done me the -honour to make is quite impossible of belief." - -"I had it from the general's own lips, monsieur," replied the king. - -"Your majesty must permit me to believe he is labouring under a -mistake," insisted Dupont, with a bow; "for the general told me the -very reverse, and I cannot believe him capable of contradicting himself -in this matter." - -A flash of anger crossed the king's face; yet he restrained himself. - -"However," continued Dupont, "I will speak for myself alone ... If M. -Odilon Barrot retires, I renew my request to the king to be good enough -to accept my resignation." - -"But, monsieur," said the king hastily, "you promised me this very -morning, that whatever happened, you would remain until after the trial -of the ministers." - -"Yes, true, sire, but only on condition that M. Barrot remained too." - -"Without any conditions, monsieur." - -It was now Dupont's turn to flush red. - -"I must this time, sire," he said, "with the strength of conviction, -positively assert that the king is in error." - -"What! monsieur," exclaimed the king, "you give me the lie to my face? -Oh! this is really too much! And everybody shall hear how you have been -lacking in respect to me." - -"Take care, sire," replied the chancellor coldly; "when the king says -_yes_ and Dupont (de l'Eure) says _no_, I am not sure which of the two -France will believe." - -Then, bowing to the king, he proceeded to the door of exit. - -But on the threshold the unbending old man met the Duc d'Orléans, who -was young and smiling and friendly; he took him by both hands and would -not let him go further. - -"Father," said the duke to the king, "there has surely been some -misunderstanding ... M. Dupont is so strictly honourable that he could -not possibly take any other course." - -The king was well aware of the mistake he had just made, and held out -his hand to his minister; the Duc d'Orléans pushed him into the king's -open arms, and the king and his minister embraced. Probably nothing was -forgotten on either side, but the compact was sealed. - -Odilon Barrot was to remain Préfet of the Seine, and, consequently, -Dupont (de l'Eure) was to remain chancellor, and La Fayette, -consequently, would remain generalissimo of the National Guard -throughout the kingdom. - -But we shall see how these three faithful friends were politely -dismissed when the king had no further need of them. It will, however, -readily be understood that all this was but a temporary patching up, -without any real stability underneath. M. Dupont (de l'Eure) consented -to remain with MM. de Broglie, Guizot, Molé and Casimir Périer, but -these gentlemen had no intention whatever of remaining in office with -him. Consequently, they sent in their resignation, which involved those -of MM. Dupin and Bignon, ministers who held no offices of state. - -The king was placed in a most embarrassing quandary, and had recourse -to M. Laffitte. M. Laffitte urged the harm that it would do his banking -house, and the daily work he would be obliged to give to public -affairs, if he accepted a position in the Government, and he confided -to the king the worry which the consequences of the July Revolution -had already caused him in his business affairs. The king offered him -every kind of inducement. But, with extreme delicacy of feeling, M. -Laffitte would not hear of accepting anything from the king, unless -the latter felt inclined to buy the forest of Breteuil at a valuation. -The only condition M. Laffitte made to this sale was that it should -be by private deed and not publicly registered, as registration would -naturally reveal the fact of the sale and the seller's difficulties. -They exchanged mutual promises, and the forest of Breteuil was valued -at, and sold for, eight millions, I believe, and the private deeds of -sale and purchase were executed and signed upon this basis. - -M. Laffitte's credit thus made secure, he consented to accept both -the office of Minister for Finance and the Presidency of the Cabinet -Council. - -The _Moniteur_ published, on 2 November, the list of newly elected -ministers. They were--MM. Laffitte, for Finance and President of the -Council; Dupont (de l'Eure), Minister of Justice; Gérard, for War; -Sébastiani, at the Admiralty; Maison, for Foreign Affairs; Montalivet, -at the Home Office; Mérilhou, for Education. - -The king, therefore, had attained his end; _the doctrinaires_ (as -they were nicknamed, probably because they had no real political -principles) had done him great service by their resignation, and given -him the opportunity of forming a ministry entirely devoted to him. In -the new coalition, Louis-Philippe ranked Laffitte as _his friend_, -Sébastiani and Montalivet, as his devoted servants; Gérard and Maison, -his subservient followers; while Mérilhou fell an easy prey to his -influence. There was only Dupont (de l'Eure) left, and he took his cue -from La Fayette. - -Now, do not let us lose sight of the fact that this ministry might be -called _the Trial Ministry (ministère du procès)_, and that La Fayette, -who had been proscribed by M. de Polignac, wanted to take a noble -revenge upon him by saving his life. His speech in the Chamber did not -leave the slightest doubt of his intentions. - -On 4 October, the Chamber of Peers constituted itself a Court of -Justice, ordered the removal of the ex-ministers to the prison of the -petit Luxembourg and fixed 15 December for the opening of the trial. -But between 4 October and 15 December (that is to say, between the -constitution of the Court of Peers and the opening of the trial) M. -Laffitte received the following curt note from Louis-Philippe:-- - - "MY DEAR MONSIEUR LAFFITTE,--After what has been told - me by a mutual friend, of whom I need not say anything - further, you know quite well why I have availed myself, at - M. Jamet's[1] urgent instigation, to whom the secret of - the purchase was entrusted by yourself and not by me, of - taking the opportunity of having the private deed of sale - registered, as secretly as possible.--Yours affectionately, - LOUIS-PHILIPPE." - -M. Laffitte was stunned by the blow; he did not place any belief in the -secrecy of the registration; and he was right. The sale became known, -and M. Laffitte's downfall dated from that moment. But the deed of -sale bore a special date! M. Laffitte took up his pen to send in his -resignation, and this involved that of Dupont (de l'Eure), La Fayette -and Odilon Barrot. He reflected that Louis-Philippe would be disarmed -in face of a future political upheaval. But the revenge appeared too -cruel a one to the famous banker, who now acted the part of king, while -the real king played that of financier. Nevertheless, the wound rankled -none the less deeply in his heart. - - -[1] M. Jamet was the king's private book-keeper. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - - Béranger as Patriot and Republican - - -When Laffitte became minister, he wanted to bear with him up to the -political heights he was himself compelled to ascend, a man who, -as we have said, had perhaps contributed more to the accession of -Louis-Philippe even than had the celebrated banker himself. That man -was Béranger. But Béranger, with his clear-sighted common sense, -realised that, for him as well as for Laffitte, apparent promotion -really meant ultimate downfall. He therefore let all his friends -venture on that bridge of Mahomet, as narrow as a thread of flax, -called power; but shook his head and took farewell of them in the -following verses:-- - - "Non, mes amis, non, je ne veux rien être; - Semez ailleurs places, titres et croix. - Non, pour les cours Dieu ne m'a point fait naître: - Oiseau craintif, je fuis la glu des rois! - Que me faut-il? Maîtresse à fine taille, - Que me faut-il? Maîtresse à fine taille, - Petit repas et joyeux entretien! - De mon berceau près de bénir la paille, - En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!' - - Un sort brillant serait chose importune - Pour moi rimeur, qui vis de temps perdu. - N'est-il tombé, des miettes de fortune, - Tout has, j'ai dit: 'Ce pain ne m'est pas dû. - Quel artisan, pauvre, hélas! quoi qu'il fasse, - N'a plus que moi droit à ce peu de bien? - Sans trop rougir, fouillons dans ma besace. - En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!' - - Sachez pourtant, pilotes du royaume, - Combien j'admire un homme de vertu - Qui, désertant son hôtel ou son chaume, - Monte au vaisseau par tous les vents battu, - De loin, ma vois lui crie: 'Heureux voyage!' - Priant de cœur pour tout grand citoyen; - Mais, au soleil, je m'endors sur la plage - En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!' - - Votre tombeau sera pompeux sans doute; - J'aurai, sous l'herbe, une fosse à l'écart. - Un peuple en deuil vous fait cortège en route; - Du pauvre, moi, j'attends le corbillard. - En vain l'on court ou votre étoile tombe; - Qu'importe alors votre gîte ou le mien? - La différence est toujours une tombe. - En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!' - - De ce palais souffrez donc que je sorte, - À vos grandeurs je devais un salut; - Amis, adieu! j'ai, derrière la porte, - Laissé tantôt mes sabots et mon luth. - Sous ces lambris, près de vous accourue, - La Liberté s'offre à vous pour soutien ... - Je vais chanter ses bienfaits dans la rue. - En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!'" - -So Béranger retired, leaving his friends more deeply entangled in the -web of power than was La Fontaine's raven in the sheep's wool. Even -when he is sentimental, Béranger finds it difficult not to insert a -touch of mischief in his poetry, and, perhaps, while he is singing in -the street the blessings of liberty, he is laughing in his sleeve; -exemplifying that disheartening maxim of La Rochefoucauld, that there -is always something even in the very misfortunes of our best friends -which gives us pleasure. Yet how many times did the philosophic singer -acclaim in his heart the Government he had founded. We say _in his -heart_, for whether distrustful of the stability of human institutions, -or whether he deemed it a good thing to set up kings, but a bad one -to sing their praises in poetry, Béranger never, thank goodness! -consecrated by a single line of praise in verse the sovereignty of -July which he had lauded in his speech. - -Now let us take stock of the length of time his admiration of, and -sympathy with, the royal cause lasted. It was not for long! In six -months all was over; and the poet had taken the measure of the king: -the king was only fit to be put away with Villon's old moons. If my -reader disputes this assertion let him listen to Béranger's own words. -The man who, on 31 July, had flung _a plank across the stream_, as the -_petits Savoyards_ do, is the first to try to push it off into the -water: it is through no fault of his if it do not fall in and drag the -king with it. - - "Oui, chanson, muse, ma fille, - J'ai déclaré net - Qu'avec Charle et sa famille, - On le détrônait; - Mais chaque loi qu'on nous donne - Te rappelle ici: - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - Je croyais qu'on allait faire - Du grand et du neuf, - Même étendre un peu la sphère - De quatre-vingt-neuf; - Mais point: on rebadigeonne - Un troûe noirci! - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - Depuis les jours de décembre,[1] - Vois, pour se grandir, - La chambre vanter la chambre, - La chambre applaudir! - À se prouver qu'elle est bonne, - Elle a réussi ... - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - Basse-cour des ministères - Qu'en France on honnit, - Nos chapons héréditaires, - Sauveront leur nid; - Les petits que Dieu leur donne - Y pondront aussi ... - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - La planète doctrinaire - Qui sur Gand brillait - Vent servir la luminaire - Aux gens de juillet: - Fi d'un froid soleil d'automne - De brume obscurci! - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - _Nos ministres, qu'on peut mettre_ - _Tous au même point,_[2] - Voudraient que la baromètre - Ne variât point: - Pour peu que là-bas il tonne, - On se signe ici ... - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - Pour être en état de grâce - Que de grands peureux - Ont soin de laisser en place - Les hommes véreux! - Si l'on ne touche à personne, - C'est afin que si ... - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - Te voilà donc restaurée, - Chanson mes amours! - Tricolore et sans livrée, - Montre-toi toujours! - Ne crains plus qu'on l'emprisonne, - Du moins à Poissy ... - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci! - - Mais, pourtant, laisse en jachère - Mon sol fatigué; - Mes jeunes rivaux, ma chère, - Ont un ciel si gai! - Chez eux la rose foisonne, - Chez moi le souci. - Chanson, reprends ta couronne! - --Messieurs, grand merci!" - -These verses were nothing short of a declaration of war, but they -escaped unnoticed, and those poets who talked of them seemed to talk of -them as of something fallen from the moon, or some aerolite that nobody -had picked up. - -A song of Béranger? What was it but a song by him? The public had not -read this particular one, though it was aware of the existence of a -poet of that name who had written _Le Dieu des bonnes gens, L'Ange -Gardien, Le Cinq mai, Les Deux Cousins, Le Ventru_, all songs that -more or less attacked Louis XVIII. and Charles X.; but they did not -recognise a poet of the name of Béranger who allowed himself to go -so far as to attack Louis-Philippe. Why this ignorance of the new -Béranger? Why this deafness as to his new song? We will explain. - -There comes a reactionary period after every political change, during -which material interests prevail over national, and shameful appetites -over noble passions; during such a period,--as Louis-Philippe's reign, -for example--that government is in favour which fosters these selfish -interests and surfeits ignoble passions. The acts of such a government, -no matter how outrageously illegal and tyrannical and immoral, are -looked upon as saving graces! They praise and approve them, and make -as much noise at the footstool of power, as the priests of Cybele, -who clashed their cymbals round Jupiter's cradle. Throughout such a -period as this, the only thing the masses fear, who, living by such -a reaction, have every interest in upholding it, is, lest daylight -break on the scene of Pandemonium, and light shine into the sink where -speculators and moneymakers and coiners of crowns and paper money -jostle, and crowd and hustle one another amid that jingling of money -which denotes the work they are engaged in. Whether such a state of -things lasts long or only briefly, we repeat that, while it endures -until an honest, pure and elevated national spirit gets the upper hand, -nothing can be done or said or hoped for; everything else is cried up -and approved and extolled beforehand! It is as though that fine popular -spirit which inspires nations from time to time to attempt great deeds -has vanished, has gone up to the skies, or one knows not where. Weaker -spirits despair of ever seeing it come back, and nobler minds alone, -who share its essence, know that it ever lives, as they possess a spark -of that divine soul, believed to be extinct, and they wait with smiling -lips and calm brow. Then, gradually, they witness this political -phenomenon. Without apparent cause, or deviation from the road it -had taken, perhaps for the very reason that it is still pursuing -it, such a type of government, which cannot lose the reputation it -has never had, loses the factitious popularity it once possessed; -its very supporters, who have made their fortunes out of it, whose -co-operation it has rewarded, gradually fall away from it, and, without -disowning it altogether, already begin to question its stability. From -this very moment, such a government is condemned; and, just as they -used to approve of its evil deeds, they criticise its good actions. -Corruption is the very marrow of its bones and runs through it from -beginning to end and dries up the deadly sap which had made it spread -over a whole nation, branches like those of the upas tree, and shade -like that of the manchineel. Into this atmosphere, which, for five, -ten, fifteen, twenty years, has been full of an impure element that -has been inhaled together with other elements of the air, there comes -something antagonistic to it, something not immediately recognised. -This is the returning spirit of social probity, entering the political -conscience; it is the soul of the nation, in a word, that was thought -to have fainted, risen to the sky, gone, no one knew where, which comes -back to reanimate the vast democratic masses, which it had abandoned -to a lethargy that surrounding nations, jealous and inimical, had been -all too eager to proclaim as the sleep of death! At such a crisis the -government, by the mere returning of the masses to honesty, seems like -a ship that has lost its direction, which staggers and wavers and knows -not where it is going! It has withstood fifteen years of tempests and -storms and now it founders in a squall. It had become stronger by 5 and -6 June, on 13 and 14 April and 15 May, but falls before 24 February. - -Such a government or rather governments show signs of their decline -when men of heart and understanding refuse to rally to their help, or -when those who had done so by mistake quit it from disgust. It does not -follow that these desertions bring about an immediate fall--it may not -be for years after, but it is a certain sign that they will fall some -day, alone, or by their own act, and the public conscience, at this -stage of their decline, needs but to give it a slight push to complete -the ruin! - -Now Béranger, with his fine instinct of right and wrong, of good and -evil, knew all this; not in the self-saving spirit of the rat which -leaves the ship where it has fattened, when it is about to sail. As -we have seen, he would receive nothing at the hands of the Government -or from the friends who formed its crew; but, like the swift, white -sea-bird, which skims the crests of the rising waves, he warned the -sailors of coming storms. From this very moment, Béranger decides that -royalty in France is condemned, since this same royalty, which he has -kneaded with his own hands, with the democratic element of a Jacobin -prince in 1791, a commandant of the National Guard, a Republican in -1789 and a popular Government in 1830, is turning to a middle-class -aristocracy, the last of the aristocracies, because it is the most -selfish and the most narrow-minded,--and he dreams of a Republic! - -But how was he to attack this popular king, this king of the bourgeois -classes and of material interests, the king who had saved society? -(Every form of government in France as it arose has made that claim!) -The king was invulnerable; the Revolution of '89, which was looked upon -as his mother, but was only his nurse, had dipped him in the furnace of -the Three Days, as Thetis dipped her son Achilles in the river Styx; -but he, too, had his weak spot like Homer's hero. - -Is it the head? Is it the heel? Is it the heart? The poet, who will not -lose his time in manufacturing gunpowder, which might easily be blown -away, before it was used, will look for this weak spot, and, never -fear, he will find it. - - -[1] We shall talk about these directly, but, desiring to dedicate a -chapter or two now to Béranger, who, as poet and politician, took a -great part in the Revolution of July, we are obliged to take a step in -advance. - -[2] What would have become of Béranger if he had followed the power of -the ministers who could be put all on the same level? For notice that -the ministers he speaks of here are his friends, who did not send in -their resignation till 13 March. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - - Béranger, as Republican - - -This vulnerable spot was the Republican feeling, ever alert in France, -whether it be disguised under the names of Liberalism, Progress or -Democracy. Béranger discovered it, for, just when he was going to bid -farewell to poetry, he once more took up his song; like the warrior -who, in despair, had flung down his arms, he resumed them; but he has -changed his aim and will slay with principles rather than bullets, he -will no longer try to pierce the velvet of an ancient throne, but he -will set up a new statue of marble upon a brazen altar! That statue -shall be the figure of the Republic. He who was of the advanced school -under the Elder Branch, hangs back under the Younger. But what matters -it! He will accomplish his task and, though it stand alone, it will -be none the less powerful. Listen to him: behold him at his moulding: -like Benvenuto Cellini, he flings the lead of his old cartridges into -the smelting-pot: he will throw in his bronze and even the two silver -dinner-services which he brings out of an old walnut chest on grand -occasions when he dines with Lisette, and which he has once or twice -lent to Frétillon to put in pawn. While he works, he discovers that -those whom he fought in 1830 were in the right, and that it was he -himself who was wrong; he had looked upon them as _madmen_, now he -makes his frank apologies to them in this song-- - - "Vieux soldats de plomb que nous sommes, - Au cordeau nous alignant tous, - Si des rangs sortant quelques hommes, - Tous, nous crions: 'À bas les fous!' - - On les persécute, on les tue, - Sauf, après un lent examen, - À leur dresser une statue - Pour la gloire du genre humain! - - Combien de tempo une pensée. - Vierge obscure, attend son époux! - Les sots la traitent d'insensée, - Le sage lui dit: 'Cachez-vous!' - Mais, la rencontrant loin du monde, - Un fou qui croit au lendemain - L'épouse; elle devient féconde, - Pour le bonheur du genre humain! - - J'ai vu Saint-Simon, le prophète, - Riche d'abord, puis endetté, - Qui, des fondements jusqu'au faite, - Refaisait la société. - Plein de son œuvre commencée, - Vieux, pour elle il tendais la main, - Sur qu'il embrassait la pensée - Qui doit sauver le genre humain! - - Fourier nous dit: 'Sors de la fange, - Peuple en proie aux déceptions! - Travaille, groupé par phalange, - Dans un cercle d'attractions. - La terre, après tant de désastres, - Forme avec le ciel un hymen, - Et la loi qui régit les astres - Donne la paix au genre humain!' - - Enfantin affranchit la femme, - L'appelle à partager nos droits. - 'Fi! dites-vous, sous l'épigramme - Ces fous rêveurs tombent tous trois!' - Messieurs, lorsqu'en vain notre sphère - Du bonheur cherche le chemin, - Honneur au fou qui ferait faire - Un rêve heureux au genre humain! - - Qui découvrit un nouveau monde? - Un fou qu'on raillait en tout lieu! - Sur la croix, que son sang inonde, - Un fou qui meurt nous lègue un Dieu! - - Si, demain, oubliant d'élcore, - Le jour manquait, eh bien! demain, - Quelque fou trouverait encore - Un flambeau pour le genre humain!" - - -You have read this song. What wonderful sense and rhythm of thought and -poetry these lines contain! You say you didn't know it? Really? and -yet you knew all those which, under Charles X., attacked the throne or -the altar. _Le Sacre de Charles le Simple,_ and _L'Ange Gardien._ How -is it that you never knew this one? Because Béranger, instead of being -a tin soldier drawn up to defend public order, as stock-jobbers and -the bourgeois and grocers understand things, was looked upon as one -of those fanatics who leave the ranks in pursuit of mad ideas, which -they take unto themselves in marriage and perforce therefrom bring -forth offspring! Only, Béranger was no longer in sympathy with public -thought; the people do not pick up the arrows he shoots, in order to -hurl them back at the throne; his poems, which were published in 1825, -and again in 1829, and then sold to the extent of thirty thousand -copies, are, in 1833, only sold to some fifteen hundred. But what -matters it to him, the bird of the desert, who sings for the love of -singing, because the good God, who loves to hear him, who prefers his -poetry to that of _missionaries, Jesuits and of those jet-black-dwarfs_ -whom he nourishes, and who hates the smoke of their censers, has said -to him, "Sing, poor little bird, sing!" So he goes on singing at every -opportunity. - -When Escousse and Lebras died, he sang a melancholy song steeped in -doubt and disillusionment; he could not see his way in the chaos of -society. He only felt that the earth was moving like an ocean; that the -outlook was stormy; that the world was in darkness, and that the vessel -called _France_ was drifting further and further towards destruction. -Listen. Was there ever a more melancholy song than this? It is like the -wild seas that break upon coasts bristling with rocks and covered with -heather, like the bays of Morlaix and the cliffs of Douarnenez. - - - "Quoi! morts tous deux dans cette chambre close - Où du charbon pèse encor la vapeur! - Leur vie, hélas! était à peine éclose; - Suicide affreux! triste objet de stupeur! - Ils auront dit: 'Le monde fait naufrage; - Voyez pâlir pilote et matelots! - Vieux bâtiment usé par tous les flots, - Il s'engloutit, sauvons-nous à la nage!' - Et, vers le ciel se frayant un chemin, - Ils sont partis en se donnant la main! - . . . . . . . . . - Pauvres enfants! quelle douleur amère - N'apaisent pas de saints devoirs remplis? - Dans la patrie on retrouve une mère, - Et son drapeau vous couvre de ses plis! - Ils répondaient: 'Ce drapeau, qu'on escorte, - Au toit du chef le protège endormi; - Mais le soldat, teint du sang ennemi, - Veille, et de faim meurt en gardant la porte!' - Et, vers le ciel se frayant un chemin, - Ils sont partis en se donnant la main! - . . . . . . . . . - Dieu créateur, pardonne à leur démence! - Ils s'étaient fait les échos de leurs sous, - Ne sachant pas qu'en une chaîne immense, - Non pour nous seuls, mais pour tous nous naissons. - L'humanité manque de saints apôtres - Qui leur aient dit: 'Enfants, suivez ma loi! - Aimer, aimer, c'est être utile à soi! - Se faire aimer, c'est être utile aux autres!' - Et, vers le ciel se frayant un chemin, - Ils sont partis en se donnant la main!" - -At what a moment,--consider it!--did Béranger prophesy that the world -would suffer shipwreck to the terror of pilots and sailors? When, in -February 1832, the Tuileries was feasting its courtiers; when the -newspapers, which supported the Government, were glutted with praise; -when the citizen-soldiers of the rues Saint-Denis and Saint-Martin -were enthusiastic in taking their turn on guard; when officers were -clamouring for crosses for themselves and invitations to court for -their wives; when, out of the thirty-six millions of the French -people, thirty millions were bellowing at the top of their voices, -"Vive Louis-Philippe, the upholder of order and saviour of society!" -when the _Journal des Débats_ was shouting its HOSANNAHS! and the -_Constitutionnel_ its AMENS! - -By the powers! One would have been out of one's mind to die at such a -time; and only a poet would talk of the world going to wrack and ruin! - -But wait! When Béranger perceived that no one listened to his words, -that, like Horace, he sang to deaf ears, he still went on singing, and -now still louder than before-- - - "Société, vieux et sombre édifice, - Ta chute, hélas! Menace nos abris: - Tu vas crouler! point de flambeau qui puisse - Guider la foule à travers tes débris: - Où courons-nous! Quel sage en proie au doute - N'a sur son front vingt fois passé la main? - C'est aux soleils d'être sûrs de leur route; - Dieu leur a dit: 'Voilà votre chemin!'" - -Then comes the moment when this chaos is unravelled, and the night is -lifted, and the dawn of a new day rises; the poet bursts into a song of -joy as he sees it! What did he see? Oh! be not afraid, he will be only -too ready to tell you-- - - "Toujours prophète, en mon saint ministère, - Sur l'avenir j'ose interroger Dieu. - Pour châtier les princes de la terre, - Dans l'ancien monde un déluge aura lieu. - Déjà près d'eux, l'Océan, sur les grèves, - Mugit, se gonfle, il vient.... 'Maîtres, voyez, - Voyez!' leur dis-je. Ils répondent: 'Tu rêves!' - Ces pauvres rois, ils seront tous noyés! - . . . . . . . . . - Que vous ont fait, mon Dieu, ces bons monarques? - Il en est tant dont on bénit les lois! - De jougs trop lourds si nous portons les marques, - C'est qu'en oubli le peuple a mis ses droits. - Pourtant, les flots précipitent leur marche - Contre ces chefs jadis si bien choyés. - Faute d'esprit pour se construire une arche, - Ces pauvres rois, ils seront tous noyés! - 'Un océan! quel est-il, ô prophète?' - - _Peuples, c'est nous, affranchis de la faim_, - _Nous, plus instruits, consommant la défaite_ - _De tant de rois, inutiles, enfin!..._ - Dieu fait passer sur ces fils indociles - Nos flots mouvants, si longtemps fourvoyés; - Puis le ciel brille, et les flots sont tranquilles. - Ces pauvres rois, ils seront tous noyés!" - -It will be observed that it was not as in _les Deux Cousins_, a simple -change of fortune or of dynasty, but the overturning of every dynasty -that the poet is predicting; not as in _Les Dieu des bonnes gens_, the -changing of destinies and tides, but the revolution of both towards -ultimate tranquillity. The ocean becomes a vast lake, without swell or -storms, reflecting the azure heavens and of such transparent clearness -that at the bottom can be seen the corpses of dead monarchies and the -débris of wrecked thrones. - -Then, what happens on the banks of this lake, in the capital of the -civilised world, in the city _par excellence_, as the Romans called -Rome? The poet is going to tell you, and you will not have long to wait -to know if he speaks the truth: a hundred and sixty-six years, dating -from 1833, the date at which the song appeared. What is a hundred and -sixty-six years in the life of a people? For, note carefully, the -prophecy is for the year 2000, and the date may yet be disputed! - - "Nostradamus, qui vit naître Henri-Quatre, - Grand astrologue, a prédit, dans ses vers, - Qu_'en l'an deux mil, date qu'on peut débattre_, - De la médaille on verrait le revers: - Alors, dit-il, Paris, dans l'allégresse, - Au pied du Louvre ouïra cette voix: - 'Heureux Français, soulagez ma détresse; - Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!' - - Or, cette voix sera celle d'un homme - Pauvre, à scrofule, en haillons, sans souliers, - Qui, _né proscrit_, vieux, arrivant de Rome, - Fera spectacle aux petits écoliers. - Un sénateur crira: 'L'homme à besace, - Les mendiants sont bannis par nos lois! - --Hélas! monsieur, je suis seul de ma race; - Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!' - - 'Es-tu vraiment de la race royale?' - --Oui, répondra cet homme, fier encor; - J'ai vu dans Rome, alors ville papale, - À mon aïeul couronne et sceptre d'or; - Il les vendit pour nourrir le courage - De faux agents, d'écrivains maladroits! - Moi, j'ai pour sceptre un bâton de voyage.... - Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois! - - 'Mon père, âgé, _mort en prison pour dettes_, - D'un bon métier n'osa point me pouvoir; - Je tends la main ... Riches, partout vous êtes - Bien durs au pauvre, et Dieu me l'a fait voir! - Je foule enfin cette plage féconde - Qui repoussa mes aïeux tant de fois! - Ah! par pitié pour les grandeurs du monde, - Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!' - - Le sénateur dira: 'Viens! je t'emmène - Dans mon palais; vis heureux parmi nous. - Contre les rois nous n'avons plus de haine; - Ce qu'il en reste embrasse nos genoux! - En attendant que le sénat décide - À ses bienfaits si ton sort a des droits, - Moi, qui suis né d'un vieux sang régicide, - Je fais l'aumône au dernier de nos rois!' - - Nostradamus ajoute en son vieux style: - 'La _République_ au prince accordera - Cent louis de rente, et, citoyen utile, - Pour maire, un jour, Saint-Cloud le choisira. - Sur l'an deux mil, on dira dans l'histoire, - Qu'assise au trône et des arts et des lois, - La France, en paix, reposant sous sa gloire, - A fait l'aumône au dernier de ses rois!'" - -It is quite clear this time, and the word _Republic_ is pronounced; -the _Republic_ in the year 2000 will give alms to the last of its -kings! There is no ambiguity in the prophecy. Now, how long will this -Republic, strong enough to give alms to the last of its kings, have -been established? It is a simple algebraic calculation which the most -insignificant mathematician can arrive at, by proceeding according to -rule, from the known to the unknown. - -It is in the year 2000 that Paris will hear, at the foot of the Louvre, -the voice of a man in tatters shouting, "Give alms to the last of your -kings!" - - - This voice will belong to a man _born an outlaw, old, - arriving from Rome,_ which leads one to suppose he would - be about sixty or seventy years of age. Let us take a mean - course and say sixty-five @ 65 - - This man, a born outlaw, _saw in Rome, then a papal city, - the crown and golden sceptre of his grandfather._ How long - ago can that have been? Let us say fifty years @ 50 - - For how long had this grandfather been exiled? It cannot - have been long, because he had his sceptre and gold crown - still, and sold them to _feed the courage of false agents - and luckless writers._ Let us reckon it at fifteen years and - say no more about it @ 15 - - Let us add to that the twenty years that have rolled by - since 1833 @ 20 - - And we shall have to take away a total from 166 of 150 - - -Now he who from 166 pays back 150 keeps 16 as remainder,--and yet, -and yet the poet said the year 2000 is _open to doubt._ Do not let us -dispute the question, but let us even allow more time. - -We return thee thanks, Béranger, thou poet and prophet! - -What happened upon the appearance of these prophecies which were -calculated to wound many very different interests? That the people who -knew the old poems of Béranger by heart, because their ambition, their -hopes and desires, had made weapons of them wherewith to destroy the -old throne, did not even read his new songs, whilst those who did read -them said to each other, "Have you read Béranger's new songs? No. Well, -don't read them. Poor fellow, he is going off!" So they did not read -them, or, if they had read them, the word was passed round to say, -that the song-writer was going off. No, on the contrary, the poet was -growing greater, not deteriorating! But just as from song-writer he had -become poet, so, from poet, he was becoming a prophet. I mean that, to -the masses, he was becoming more and more unintelligible. Antiquity has -preserved us the songs of Anacreon, but has forgotten the prophecies of -Cassandra. - -And why? Homer tells us: the Greeks refused to put faith in the -prophetic utterances of the daughter of Priam and Hecuba. - -Alas! Béranger followed her in this and held his peace; and a whole -world of masterpieces on the eve of bursting forth was arrested on his -silent lips. He smiled with that arch smile of his, and said-- - -"Ah! I am declining, am I? Well, then, ask for songs of those who are -rising!" - -Rossini had said the same thing after _Guillaume Tell_, and what was -the result? We had no more operas by him, and no more songs from -Béranger. - -Now it may be asked how it happens that Béranger, a Republican, resides -peacefully in the avenue de Chateaubriand (No. 5), at Paris, whilst -Victor Hugo is living in Marine Terrace, in the island of Jersey. It -is simply a question of age and of temperament. Hugo is a fighter, and -scarcely fifty: while Béranger, take him all in all, is an Epicurean -and, moreover, seventy years of age;[1] an age at which a man begins -to prepare his bed for his eternal sleep, and Béranger (God grant he -may live many years yet, would he but accept some years of our lives!) -wishes to die peacefully upon the bed of flowers and bay leaves that -he has made for himself. He has earned the right to do so--he has -struggled hard enough in the past, and, rest assured, his work will -continue in the future! - -Let us just say, in conclusion, that those who were then spoken of as -the _young school_ (they are now men of forty to fifty) were not fair -to Béranger. After Benjamin Constant had exalted him to the rank of a -great epic poet, they tried to reduce him to the level of a writer of -doggerel verses. By this action, criticism innocently made itself the -accomplice of the ruling powers; it only intended to be severe, but -was, really, both unjust and ungrateful! It needs to be an exile and -a poet living in a strange land, far from that communion of thought -which is the food of intellectual life, to know how essentially French, -philosophical and consolatory, the muse of the poet of Passy really -was. In the case of Béranger, there was no question of exile, and each -exile can, while he sings his songs, look for the realisation of that -prophecy which Nostradamus has fixed for the year 2000. - -But we are a very long way from the artillery, which we were -discussing, and we must return to it again and to the riot in which it -was called upon to play its part. - -Let us, then, return to the riot and to the artillery. But, dear -Béranger, dear poet, dear father, we do not bid you _adieu_, only _au -revoir._ After the storm, the halcyon!--the halcyon, white as snow, -which has passed through all the storms, its swan-like plumage as -spotless as before. - - -[1] See Note A, at end of the volume. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - - Death of Benjamin Constant--Concerning his life--Funeral - honours that were conferred upon him--His funeral--Law - respecting national rewards--The trial of the - ministers--Grouvelle and his sister--M. Mérilhou and the - neophyte--Colonel Lavocat--The Court of Peers--Panic--Fieschi - - -The month of December 1830 teemed with events. One of the gravest -was the death of Benjamin Constant. On the 10th we received orders -to be ready equipped and armed by the 12th, to attend the funeral -procession of the famous deputy. He had died at seven in the evening -of 8 December. His death created a great sensation throughout Paris. -Benjamin Constant's popularity was a strange one, and it would be hard -to say upon what it was founded. He was a Swiss Protestant, and had -been brought up in England and Germany. He could speak English, German -and French with equal ease; but he composed and wrote in French. He -was young, good-looking, strong in body, but weak in character. From -the time he set foot in France, Constant did nothing unless under the -influence of women: they were his rulers in literature and his guides -in politics. He was taken up by three of the most celebrated women of -his time; by Madame Tallien, Madame de Beauharnais and Madame de Staël, -and he was completely under their influence; the latter, especially, -had an immense influence over his life. _Adolphe_ was he himself, and -the heroine in it was Madame de Staël. Besides, the life of Benjamin -was not by any means the life of a man, but that of a woman, that is -to say, a mixture of inconsistencies and weaknesses. Raised to the -Tribunal after the overturning of the Directory, he opposed Bonaparte -when he was First Consul, not, as historians state, because he had no -belief in the durability of Napoléon's good fortune, but because Madame -de Staël, with whom he was then on most intimate terms, detested the -First Consul. He was expelled from the Tribunal in 1801, and exiled -from France in 1802, and went to live near his mistress (or rather -master) at Coppet. About the year 1806 or 1807 this life of slavery -grew insufferable to him, and, weak though he was, he broke his chains. -Read his novel _Adolphe_, and you will see how heavily the chain -galled him! He settled at Hanover, where he married a German lady of -high birth, a relative of the Prince of Hardenberg, and behold him an -aristocrat, moving in the very highest aristocratic circles in Germany, -never leaving the princes of the north, but living in the heart of the -coalition which threatened France, directing foreign proclamations, -writing his brochure, _De l'esprit de conquête et d'usurpation_, upon -the table of the Emperor Alexander; and, finally, re-entering France -with Auguste de Staël, in the carriage of King Charles-John. How can -one escape being a Royalist in such company! - -He was also admitted to the _Journal des Débats_, and became one of -the most active editors of that periodical. When Bonaparte landed -at the gulf of Juan and marched on Paris, Benjamin Constant's first -impulse was to take himself off. He began by hiding himself at the -house of Mr. Crawford, ex-ambassador to the United States; then he -went to Nantes with an American who undertook to get him out of -France. But, on the journey, he learned of the insurrection in the -West and retraced his steps and returned to Paris after a week's -absence. In five more days' time, he went to the Tuileries at the -invitation of M. Perregaux, where the emperor was awaiting an audience -with him in his private room. Benjamin Constant was to be bought by -any power that took the trouble to flatter him; he was in politics, -literature and morality what we will call a courtezan, only Thomas, of -the _National_, used a less polite word for it. Two days later, the -newspaper announced the appointment of Benjamin Constant as a member -of the State Council. Here it was that he drew up the famous _Acte -additionnel_ in conjunction with M. Molé, a minister whom we had just -thrown out of Louis-Philippe's Government. At the Second Restoration, -it was expedient for Benjamin Constant to get himself exiled; and it -regained him his popularity, so great was the public hatred against -the Bourbons! He went to England and published _Adolphe._ In 1816, the -portals of France were re-opened to him and he started the _Minerve_, -and wrote in the _Courrier_ and _Constitutionnel_ and in the _Temps._ -I met him at this time at the houses of Châtelain and M. de Seuven. He -was a tall, well-built man, excessively nervous, pale and with long -hair, which gave his face a strangely Puritanical expression; he was -as irritable as a woman and a gambler to the pitch of infatuation! He -had been a deputy since 1819, and each day he was one of the first -arrivals at the Chamber, punctiliously clad in uniform, with its silver -fleurs-de-lis, and always, summer and winter, carrying a cloak over -his arm; his other hand was always full of books and printer's proofs; -he limped and leant upon a sort of crutch, stumbling along frequently -till he reached his seat. When seated, he began upon his correspondence -and the correcting of his proofs, employing every usher in the place -to execute his innumerable commissions. Ambitious in all directions, -without ever succeeding in anything, nor even getting into the Academy, -where he failed in his first attempt against Cousin, and in the second -against M. Viennet! by turns irresolute and courageous, servile and -independent, he spent his ten years as deputy under every kind of -vacillation. The Monday of the Ordinances he was away in the country, -where he had been undergoing a serious operation; he received a letter -from Vatout, short and significant-- - - "MY DEAR FRIEND,--A terrible game is being played here with - heads as stakes. Be the clever gambler you always are and - come and bring your own head to our assistance." - -The summons was tempting and he went. On the Thursday, he reached -Montrouge, where the barricades compelled him to leave his carriage -and to cross Paris upon the arm of his wife, who was terrified when -she saw what men were guarding the Hôtel de Ville, and frightened her -husband as well as herself. - -"Let us start for Switzerland instantly!" exclaimed Benjamin Constant; -"and find a corner of the earth where not even the cover of a newspaper -can reach us!" - -He was actually on the point of doing so when he was recognised, and -some one called out "Vive Benjamin Constant!" lifted him in his arms -and carried him in triumph. His name was placed last on the list of -the protest of the deputies, and is to be found at the end of Act 30, -conferring the Lieutenant-generalship upon the Duc d'Orléans; these -two signatures, supported by his immense reputation and increasing -popularity, once more took him into the State Council. Meanwhile, he -was struggling against poverty, and Vatout induced the king to allow -him two hundred thousand francs, which Constant accepted on condition, -so he said to him who gave him this payment, that he was allowed the -right of free speech. That's exactly how I understand it, said the -king. At the end of four months, the two hundred thousand francs were -all gambled away, and Constant was poorer than ever. A fortnight before -his death, a friend went to his house, one morning at ten o'clock, and -found him eating dry bread, soaked in a glass of water. That crust of -bread was all he had had since the day before, and the glass of water -he owed to the Auvergnat who had filled his cistern that morning. His -death was announced to the Chamber of Deputies on 9 December. - -"What did he die of?" several members asked. - -And a melancholy accusing voice that none dared contradict replied-- - -"Of hunger!" - -This was not quite the truth, but there was quite enough foundation for -the statement to be allowed to pass unchallenged. - -Then they set to work to arrange all kinds of funeral celebrations; -they brought in a bill respecting the honours that should be bestowed -upon great citizens by a grateful country, and, as this Act could not -be passed by the following day, they bought provisionally a vault in -the Cemetery de l'Est. - -Oh! what a fine thing is the gratitude of a nation! True, it does not -always secure one against death by starvation; but, at all events, it -guarantees your being buried in style when you are dead--unless you die -either in prison or in exile. - -We had the privilege of contributing to the pomp of this cortège formed -of a hundred thousand men; shadowed by flags draped in crêpe; and -marching to the roll of muffled drums, and the dull twangings of the -tam-tams. At one time, the whole boulevard was flooded by a howling -sea like the rising tide, and, soon, the storm burst. As the funeral -procession came out of the church, the students tried to get possession -of the coffin, shouting, "To the Panthéon!" But Odilon Barrot came -forward; the Panthéon was not in the programme, and he opposed their -enthusiasm and, as a struggle began, he appealed to the law. - -"The law must be enforced!" he cried. And he called to his aid -that strength which people in power generally apply less to the -maintenance of law than to the execution of their own desires; which, -unfortunately, is not always the same thing. - -Eighteen months later, these very same words, "The law must be -enforced!" were pronounced over another coffin, but, in that instance, -the law was not enforced until after two days of frightful butchery. - -At the edge of Benjamin Constant's grave, La Fayette nearly fainted -from grief and fatigue, and was obliged to be held up and pulled -backward or he would have lain beside the dead before his time. - -We shall relate how the same thing nearly happened to him at the grave -of Lamarque, but, that time, he did not get up again. - -Every one returned home at seven that evening, imbued with some of the -stormy electricity with which the air during the whole of that day had -been charged. - -Next day, the Chamber enacted a law, which, in its turn, led to serious -disturbances. It was the law relative to national pensions. - -On 7 October, M. Guizot had ascended the tribune and said-- - - "GENTLEMEN,--The king was as anxious as you were to sanction - by a legislative act the great debt of national gratitude, - which our country owes to the victims of the Revolution. - - "I have the honour to put before you a bill to that effect. - Our three great days cost more than _five hundred orphans_ - the loss of fathers, _five hundred widows_ their husbands, - and over _three hundred old people_ have lost the affection - and support of children. _Three hundred and eleven citizens_ - have been mutilated and made incapable of carrying on their - livelihood, and _three thousand five hundred and sixty-four - wounded people_ have had to endure temporary disablement." - -A Commission had been appointed to draw up this bill and, on 13 -December, the bill called the Act of National Recompense was carried. -It fixed the amounts to be granted to the widows, fathers, mothers -and sisters of the victims; and decreed that France should adopt the -orphans made during the Three Days fighting; among other dispositions -it contained the following-- - - "ARTICLE 8.--Resolved that those who particularly - distinguished themselves during the July Days shall be made - noncommissioned officers and sub-lieutenants in the army, if - they are thought deserving of this honour after the report - of the Commission, provided that in each regiment the number - of sub-lieutenants does not exceed the number of two and - that of non-commissioned officers, four. - - "ARTICLE 10.--A special decoration shall be granted to every - citizen who distinguished himself during the July Days; the - list of those who are permitted to wear it shall be drawn up - by the Commission, and _submitted to the King's approval_; - this decoration will rank in the same degree as the Légion - d'honneur." - -This law appeared in the _Moniteur_ on the 17th. - -Just as the bill had been introduced the day after M. de Tracy's -proposition with respect to the death penalty, this bill was adopted -the day before the trial of the ex-ministers. It was as good as -saying--"You dead, what more can you lay claim to? We have given your -widows, fathers, mothers and sisters pensions! You, who live, what -more can you want? We have made you non-commissioned officers and -sub-lieutenants and given you the Cross! You would not have enjoyed -such privileges if the ministers of Charles X. had not passed the -Ordinances; therefore praise them instead of vilifying them!" - -But the public was in no mood to praise Polignac and his accomplices; -instead, it applauded the Belgian revolution and the Polish -insurrection. All eyes were fixed upon the Luxembourg. If the ministers -were acquitted or condemned to any other sentence than that of death, -the Revolution of July would be abjured before all Europe, and by the -king who won his crown by means of the barricades. - -Mauguin, one of the examining judges, when questioned concerning -the punishment that ought to be served to the prisoners, replied -unhesitatingly--"Death!" - -Such events as the violation of our territory by the Spanish army; the -death of Benjamin Constant and refusal to allow his body to be taken -to the Panthéon; the Belgian revolution and Polish insurrection; were -so many side winds to swell the storm which was gathering above the -Luxembourg. - -On 15 December, two days after the vote upon the National Pensions -Bill, and two days before its promulgation in the _Moniteur_, the -prosecutions began. The trial lasted from the 15th to the 21st; for -six days we never changed our uniform. We did not know what we were -kept in waiting for; we were rallied together several times, either -at Cavaignac's or Grouvelle's, to come to some decision, but nothing -definite was proposed, beyond that our common centre should be the -Louvre, where our arms and ammunition were stored, and that we should -be guided by circumstances and act as the impulse of the moment -directed. - -I have already had occasion to mention Grouvelle; but let us dwell for -a moment upon him and his sister. Both were admirable people, with -hearts as devoted to the cause of Republicanism as any Spartan or Roman -citizens. We shall meet them everywhere and in everything connected -with politics until Grouvelle disappears from the arena, at the same -time that his sister dies insane in the hospice de Montpellier. They -were the son and daughter of the Grouvelle who made the first complete -edition of the _Lettres de Madame de Sévigné_, and the same who, as -secretary of the Convention, had read to Louis XVI. the sentence of -death brought him by Garat. At the time I knew him, Grouvelle was -thirty-two or three, and his sister twenty-five, years of age. There -was nothing remarkable in his external appearance; he was very simply -dressed, with a gentle face and scanty fair hair, and upon his scalp he -wore a black band, no doubt to hide traces of trepanning. She, too, was -fair and had most lovely hair, with blue eyes below white eyelashes, -which gave an extremely sweet expression to her face, an expression, -however, which assumed much firmness if you followed the upper lines to -where they met round her mouth and chin. A charming portrait of herself -hung in her house, painted by Madame Mérimée, the wife of the artist -who painted the beautiful picture, _l'innocence et le Serpent_; the -mother of Prosper Mérimée, author of _Le Vase Étrusque, Colomba, Vénus -d'Ile_ and of a score of novels which are all of high merit. The mother -of Laure Grouvelle was a Darcet, sister, I believe, of Darcet the -chemist, who had invented the famous joke about gelatine; consequently, -she was cousin to the poor Darcet who died a horrible death, being -burnt by some new chemical that he was trying to substitute for -lamp-oil; cousin also to the beautiful Madame Pradier, who was then -simply Mademoiselle Darcet or at most called _madame._ They both had a -small fortune, sufficient for their needs, for Laure Grouvelle had none -of the usual feminine coquetry about her, but was something akin to -Charlotte Corday. - -It was a noticeable fact that all the men of 1830 and the Carbonari -of 1821 and 1822 were either wealthy or of independent means, either -from private fortunes or industry or talent. Bastide and Thomas were -wealthy; Cavaignac and Guinard lived on their incomes; Arago and -Grouvelle had posts; Loëve-Weymars possessed talent and Carrel, genius. -I could name all and it would be seen that none of them acted from -selfish ends, or needed to bring about revolutions to enrich himself; -on the contrary, all lost by the revolutions they took part in, some -losing their fortunes, others their liberty, some their lives. - -Mademoiselle Grouvelle had never married, but it was said that Étienne -Arago had proposed to her when she was a young girl; that was a long -while back, in 1821 or 1822. Étienne Arago was then, in 1821, a student -in chemistry at the École polytechnique, and was about twenty years of -age; he made the acquaintance of Grouvelle at Thénard's house. He was a -fiery-hearted son of the South; his friends were anxious to make him a -propagandist, and through his instrumentality principally, to introduce -the secret society of the _Charbonnerie_ into the École; Grouvelle, -Thénard, Mérilhou and Barthe being its chief supporters. - -These germs of Republicanism, sown by the young chemical student, and, -even more, by the influence of Eugène Cavaignac, also a student at -the École at that time, produced in after life such men as Vanneau, -Charras, Lothon, Millotte, Caylus, Latrade, Servient and all that noble -race of young men who, from 1830 to 1848, were to be found at the head -of every political movement. - -A year later, _La Charbonnerie_ was recruited by Guinard, Bastide, -Chevalon, Thomas, Gauja and many more, who were always first in the -field when fighting began. - -The question of how to introduce the principles of _La Charbonnerie_ -into Spain in the teeth of the _cordon sanitaire_ was being debated, in -order to establish relations between the patriots of the army and those -who were taking refuge in the peninsula. Étienne Arago was thought of, -but as he was too poor to undertake the journey, they went to Mérilhou. -Mérilhou, as I have said, was one of the ringleaders of Charbonarism. -He was then living in the rue des Moulins. Cavaignac and Grouvelle -introduced Étienne, and Mérilhou gazed at the neophyte, who did not -look more than eighteen. - -"You are very young, my friend," said the cautious lawyer to him. - -"That may be, monsieur," Étienne responded, "but young though I am, I -have been a Charbonist for two years." - -"Do you realise to what dangers you would expose yourself if you -undertook this propagandist mission?" - -"Certainly, I do; I expose myself to death on the scaffold." - -Whereupon the future minister of Louis-Philippe and peer of France, -and presiding judge at the Barbés' trial, laid his hand upon Étienne's -shoulder, and said, in the theatrical manner barristers are wont to -assume-- - -"_Made animo, generose puer!_" And gave him the necessary money. - -We shall come across M. Mérilhou again at Barbés' trial, and the _made -animo_ will not be thrown away upon us. - -For the moment, however, we must go back to the trial of the ministers. - -La Fayette had declared his views positively; he had offered himself -as guarantee to the High Court; he had sworn to the king to save the -heads of the ministers, if they were acquitted. Thereupon ensued a -strange revival of popularity in favour of the old general; fear made -his greatest enemies sing his praises on all sides; the king and Madame -Adélaïde showered favours upon him; he was indispensable; the monarchy -could not survive without his support.... If Atlas failed this new -Olympus, it would be overthrown! - -La Fayette saw through it all and laughed to himself and shrugged -his shoulders significantly. None of these flatteries and favours -had induced him to act as he did, but simply the dictates of his own -conscience. - -"General," I said to him on 15 December, "you know you are staking your -popularity to save the heads of these ministers?" - -"My boy," he replied, "no one knows better than I the price to be put -upon popularity; it is the richest and most inestimable of treasure, -and the only one I have ever coveted; but, like all other treasures, in -life, when the moment comes, one must strip oneself to the uttermost -farthing in the interest of public welfare and national honour." - -General La Fayette certainly acted nobly, much too nobly, indeed, for -the deserts of those for whom he made the sacrifice, for they only -attributed it to weakness instead of to devotion to duty. - -The streets in the vicinity of the Luxembourg were dreadfully congested -by the crowds waiting during the trial, so that the troops of the -National Guard could scarcely circulate through them. Troops of the -line and National Guards were, at the command of La Fayette, placed -at his disposition with plenary power; he had the police of the -Palais-Royal, of the Luxembourg and of the Chamber of Peers. He had -made Colonel Lavocat second in command at the Luxembourg, with orders -to watch over the safety of the peers; those same peers who had once -condemned Lavocat to death. If he could but have evoked the shade of -Ney, he would have placed him as sentinel at the gates of the palace! - -Colonel Feisthamel was first in command. Lavocat was one of the oldest -members of the Carbonari. Every kind of political party was represented -in the crowd that besieged the gates of the Luxembourg, except -Orléanist; we all rubbed against one another. Republicans, Carlists, -Napoléonists, awaiting events in the hope of being able to further each -his own interests, opinions and principles. We had tickets for reserved -seats. I was present on the last day but one, and heard the pleading of -M. de Martignac and also that of M. de Peyronnet, and I witnessed M. -Sauzet's triumph and saw M. Crémieux fall ill. - -Just at that second the sound of the beating of drums penetrated right -into the Chamber of Peers. They were beating the rappel in a wild sort -of frenzy. - -I rushed from the hall; the sitting was almost suspended, half on -account of the accident that had happened to M. Crémieux, half because -of the terrible noise that made the accused men shiver on their -benches and the judges in their seats. My uniform as artilleryman made -way for me through the crowds, and I gained the courtyard; it was -packed. A coach belonging to the king's printers had come into the -principal court and the multitude had angrily rushed in after it. It -was the sound of their angry growls combined with the drumming which -had reached the hall. A moment of inexpressible panic and confusion -succeeded among the peers, and it was quite useless for Colonel Lavocat -to shout from the door-- - -"Have no fear! I will be answerable for everything. The National Guard -is and will remain in possession of all the exits." - -M. Pasquier could not hear him, and his little thin shrill voice could -be heard saying-- - -"Messieurs les pairs, the sitting is dissolved. M. le Commandant de -la Garde Nationale warns me that it will be unwise to hold a night -sitting." - -It was exactly the opposite of what Colonel Lavocat had said, but, -as most of the peers were just as frightened as their illustrious -president, they rose and left the hall hurriedly, and the sitting was -deferred until the morrow. - -As I went out I pushed against a man who seemed to be one of the most -furious of the rioters; he was shouting in a foreign accent and his -mouth was hideous and his eyes were wild. - -"Death to the ministers!" he was yelling. - -"Oh! by Jove!" I said to the chief editor of _The Moniteur_, a little -white-haired man called Sauvo, who, like myself, was also watching him. -"I bet twenty-five louis that that man is a spy!" - -I don't know whether I was right at the time; but I do know that I -found the very same man again five years later in the dock of the Court -of Peers. He was the Corsican Fieschi. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - - The artillerymen at the Louvre--Bonapartist plot to take - our cannon from us--Distribution of cartridges by Godefroy - Cavaignac--The concourse of people outside the Luxembourg - when the ministers were sentenced--Departure of the - condemned for Vincennes--Defeat of the judges--La Fayette - and the riot--Bastide and Commandant Barré on guard with - Prosper Mérimée - - -I returned to the Louvre to learn news and to impart it. It is quite -impossible to depict the excitement which reigned in this headquarters -of the artillery. Our chief colonel, Joubert, had been taken away from -us, and, as the choice of a colonel was not in our hands, he had been -replaced by Comte Pernetti. - -Comte Pernetti was devoted to the court, and the court, with just -cause, mistrusted us, and looked for a chance to disband us. - -But we, on our side, every minute kept meeting men whom we had seen -upon the barricades, who stopped us to ask-- - -"Do you recognise us? We were there with you...." - -"Yes, I recognise you. What then?" - -"Well, if it came to marching against the Palais-Royal as we did -against the Tuileries, would you desert us?" - -And then we clasped hands and looked at one another with excited eyes -and parted, the artillerymen exclaiming-- - -"The people are rising!" While the populace repeated to one another, -"The artillery is with us!" - -All these rumours were floating in the air, and seemed to stop like -mists at the highest buildings. - -The Palais-Royal was only a hundred and fifty yards from the Louvre, -in which were twenty-four pieces of artillery, twenty thousand rounds -of ammunition, and out of eight hundred artillerymen six hundred were -Republicans. - -No scheme of conspiracy had been arranged; but it was plainly evident -that, if the people rose, the artillery would support them. M. de -Montalivet, brother of the minister, warned his brother, about one -o'clock that afternoon, that there was a plot arranged for carrying -off our guns from us. General La Fayette immediately warned Godefroy -Cavaignac of the information that had been given him. - -Now, we were quite willing to go with the people to manage our own -guns, and incur the risks of a second revolution, as we had run the -risks of the first; but the guns were, in a measure, our own property, -and we felt responsible for their safe keeping, so we did not incline -to have them taken out of our hands. - -This rumour of a sudden attack upon the Louvre gained the readier -credence as, for two or three days past, there had been much talk of -a Bonapartist plot; and, although we were all ready to fight for La -Fayette and the Republic, we had no intentions of risking a hair of -our heads for Napoléon II. Consequently, Godefroy Cavaignac, being -warned, had brought in a bale of two or three hundred cartridges, which -he flung on one of the card-tables in the guardroom. Every man then -proceeded to fill his pouch and pockets. When I reached the Louvre, the -division had been made, but it did not matter, as my pouch had been -full since the day I had been summoned to seize the Chamber. - -As would be expected, we had no end of spies among us, and I could -mention two in particular who received the Cross of the Légion -d'honneur for having filled that honourable office in our ranks. - -An hour after this distribution of cartridges they were warned at the -Palais-Royal. A quarter of an hour after they had been warned there, -I received a letter from Oudard, begging me, if I was at the Louvre, -to go instantly to his office. I showed the letter to our comrades and -asked them what I was to do. - -"Go, of course," answered Cavaignac. - -"But if they question me--?" - -"Tell the truth. If the Bonapartists want to seize our guns we will -fire our last cartridges to defend them; but, if the people rise -against the Luxembourg, _or even against any other palace_, we will -march with them." - -"That suits me down to the ground. I like plain speaking." - -So I went to the Palais-Royal. The offices were crowded with people; -one could feel the excitement running through from the centre to the -outlying extremities, and, judging from the state of agitation of -the extremities, the centre must have been very much excited. Oudard -questioned me; that was the only reason why he had sent for me. I -repeated what Cavaignac had told me, word for word. As far as I can -recollect, this happened on the evening of the 20th. On the 21st I -resumed my post in the rue de Tournon. The crowd was denser than ever: -the rue de Tournon, the rues de Seine, des Fossés-Monsieur-le-Prince, -Voltaire, the places de l'Odéon, Saint-Michel and l'École-de-Médecine, -were filled to overflowing with National Guards and troops of the -line. The National Guard had been made to believe that there was a -plot for plundering the shops; that the people of the July Revolution, -when pulled up by the appointment of the Duc d'Orléans to the -Lieutenant-generalship, had vowed to be revenged; now, the bourgeois, -ever ready to believe rumours of this kind, had rushed up in masses -and uttered terrible threats against pillagers, who had never pillaged -either on the 27th, the 28th, or the 29th, but who would have pillaged -on the 30th, if the creation of the Lieutenant-generalship had not -restored order just in time. - -It is but fair to mention that all those excellent fellows, who were -waiting there, with rifles at rest, would not have put themselves out -to wait unless they had really believed that the trial would end in a -sentence of capital punishment. - -About two o'clock it was announced that the counsels' speeches were -finished and the debates closed, and that sentence was going to be -pronounced. There was an intense silence, as though each person was -afraid that any sound might prevent him from hearing the great voice, -that, no doubt, like that of the angel of the day of judgment, should -pronounce the supreme sentence of that High Court of Justice. - -Suddenly, some men rushed out of the Luxembourg and dashed down the rue -de Tournon crying-- - -"To death! They are sentenced to death!" - -A stupendous uproar went up in response from every ray of that vast -constellation of streets that centres in the Luxembourg. - -Everybody struggled to make a way out to his own quarter and house -to be the first to carry the bitter news. But they soon stayed their -progress and the multitude seemed to be driven back again and to press -towards the Luxembourg like a stream flowing backwards. Another rumour -had got abroad; that the ministers, instead of being condemned to -death, had only been sentenced to imprisonment for life; and that the -report of the penalty of death had been purposely spread to give them a -chance to escape. - -The expression of people's faces changed and menacing shouts began to -resound; the National Guards struck the pavements with the butt-end of -their rifles. They had come to defend the peers but seemed quite ready -when they heard the news of the acquittal (and any punishment short of -death was acquittal) to attack the peers. - -Meanwhile, this is what was happening inside. It was known beforehand, -in the Palais-Royal, that the sentence was to be one of imprisonment -for life. M. de Montalivet, Minister of the Interior, had received -orders from the king to have the ex-ministers conducted safe and -sound to Vincennes. The firing of a cannon when they had crossed the -drawbridge of the château was to tell the king of their safety. M. de -Montalivet had chosen General Falvier and Colonel Lavocat to share this -dangerous honour with him. When he saw the four ministers appearing, -who had been removed from the hall in order that, according to custom, -sentence should be pronounced in their absence-- - -"Messieurs," said General Falvier to Colonel Lavocat, "take heed! we -are going to make history; let us see to it that it redounds to the -glory of France!" - -A light carriage awaited the prisoners outside the wicket-gate of the -petit Luxembourg. It was at this juncture that some men, set there by -M. de Montalivet, rushed through the main gateway, shouting, as we have -mentioned-- - -"Death.... They are sentenced to death!" - -The prisoners could hear the tremendous shout of triumph that went -up at that false report. But the carriage, surrounded by two hundred -horsemen, had already set off, and was driving towards the outlying -boulevards with the speed and noise of a hurricane. - -MM. de Montalivet and Lavocat galloped at each side of the doors. - -The judges assembled in the Rubens gallery to deliberate. From there, -they could see, as far as eye could reach, the bristling of cannons -and bayonets and the seething agitation of the crowds. Night was fast -approaching, but the inmates of every house had put lamps in their -windows and a bright illumination succeeded the waning daylight, adding -a still more lurid character to the scene. - -Suddenly, the peers heard an uproar; they saw, one might almost say -they _felt_, the terrible agitation going on outside: each wave of -that sea, that had broken or was just ready to break, rose higher than -the last; and the tide that one thought was at the ebb, returned with -greater and more threatening force than ever, beating against the -powerfully built walls of the Médicis palace: but the judges were fully -aware that no walls or barriers or ramparts could stand against the -strength of the ocean; they each tried to find some pretext or other -for slipping away: some did not even attempt any excuse for so doing. -M. Pasquier, by comparison, was the bravest, and felt ashamed of their -retreat. - -"It is unseemly!" he exclaimed; "shut the doors!" - -But La Layette was informed, at the same time, that the people were -rushing upon the palace. - -"Messieurs," he said, turning to the three or four persons who awaited -his commands, "will you come with me to see what is going on?" - -Thus, whilst M. Pasquier was returning to the audience chamber, -which was nearly deserted, to pronounce, by the dismal light of a -half-lighted chandelier, the sentence condemning the accused to -imprisonment for life and punishing the Prince de Polignac to civil -death, the man of 1789 and of 1830 was making his appearance in the -streets, as calm on that 21 December, as he announced to the people -the quasi-absolution of the ex-ministers, as he had been forty years -before, when he announced, to the fathers of those who were listening -to him then, the flight of the king to Varennes. - -For a single instant it seemed as though the noble old man had presumed -too much on the magnanimity of the crowd and on his popularity: for -the waves of that ocean which, at first, made way respectfully before -him, now gathered round him angrily. A threatening growl ran through -the multitude, which knew its power and had but to make a move to grind -everything to powder or smash everything like glass. - -Cries of "Death to the ministers! Put them to death! Put them to -death!" were uttered on all sides. - -La Fayette tried to speak but loud imprecations drowned his voice. - -At last he succeeded in being heard, and, "Citizens, I do not recognise -among you the heroes of July!" he said to the people. - -"No wonder!" replied a voice; "how could you, seeing you were not on -their side!" - -It was a critical moment; there were only four or five of us -artillerymen all together. M. Sarrans, who accompanied the general, -signed to us to come up to him, and thanks to our uniform, which the -people held in respect as a sign of the opposition party, we managed to -make our way to the general, who, recognising me, took me by the arm; -other patriots joined us, and La Fayette found himself surrounded by a -party of friends, amongst whom he could breathe freely. - -But, on all sides, the National Guards were furious, and were -deserting their posts, some loading their rifles, others flinging them -down and all crying out treason. - -At this moment, the sound of a cannon pierced the air like the -explosion of a thunderbolt. It was M. de Montalivet's signal announcing -to the king that the ministers were in safety; but we in our ignorance, -thought it was a signal sent us by our comrades in the Louvre; we left -the general and, drawing our poinards, we rushed across the Pont Neuf, -crying: "To arms!" At our shouts and the sight of our uniform and the -naked swords, the people opened way for us at once and soon began -running in all directions, yelling: "To arms!" We reached the Louvre -just as the porters were closing the gates and, pushing back both -keepers and gates, we entered by storm. Let them shut the gates behind -us, once inside what would it matter? There were about six hundred -artillerymen inside the Louvre. I flew into the guardroom on the left -of the entrance by the gateway in the place Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois. - -The news of the discharge of the ministers was already known and had -produced its effect. Every one looked as though he were walking upon a -volcano. I saw Adjutant Richy go up to Bastide and whisper something -into his ear. - -"Impossible!" exclaimed Bastide. - -"See for yourself, then," Richy added. - -Bastide went out hurriedly and, almost immediately after, we heard him -shout: "Help, men of the Third Artillery!" - -But before he had time to cross the threshold of the guardroom he had -climbed over the park chains and was making straight for a group of -men, who, in spite of the sentry's orders, had got into the enclosure -reserved for the guns. - -"Out of the park!" shrieked Bastide; "out of the park instantly or I -will put my sword through the bodies of every one of you!" - -"Captain Bastide," said one of the men to whom he had addressed his -threat, "I am Commandant Barré ..." - -"If you are the very devil himself it makes no difference! Our orders -are that no one shall enter the park, so out you go!" - -"Excuse me," said Barré, "but I should much like to know who is in -command here, you or I?" - -"Whoever is the stronger commands here at present.... I do not -recognise you.... Help, artillerymen!" - -Fifty of us surrounded Bastide with poinards in hand. Several had found -time to take their loaded muskets from their racks. Barré gave in to us. - -"What do you want?" he asked. - -"To take any gun that comes handiest and make it ready for firing!" -exclaimed Bastide. - -We flung ourselves on the first that came; but, at the third revolution -of the wheels, the washer broke and the wheel came off. - -"I want you to fetch me the linch-pins of the guns you have just -carried off." - -"Really ..." - -"Those linch-pins, or, I repeat, I will pass my sword through your -body!" - -Barré emptied a sack in which some ten linch-pins had been already put. -We rushed at them and put our guns in order again. - -"Good," said Bastide. "Now, out of the park!" - -Every one of them went out and Barré went straight off to offer his -command to Comte Pernetti, who declined to take it. - -Bastide left me to keep guard over the park with Mérimée: our orders -were to fire on anybody who came near it, and who, at our second _qui -vive_, did not come up at command. - -From that hour on sentry-duty (they had reduced the length of -sentry hours to one, on account of the gravity of events) dated -my acquaintance with Mérimée; we conversed part of the time, and -strange to say, under those circumstances, of art and literature and -architecture. - -Ten years later, Mérimée, who, no doubt, recollecting what he had -wished to tell me that night, namely, that I had the most dramatic -imagination he had ever come across, thought fit to suggest to M. de -Rémusat, then Minister of the Interior, that I should be asked to write -a comedy for the Théâtre-Français. - -M. de Rémusat wrote to ask me for a play, enclosing an order for an -advance of five thousand francs. A month afterwards, _Un Marriage sous -Louis XV._ was composed, read and rejected by the Théâtre-Français. In -due order, I will relate the story of _Un Manage sous Louis XV._ (the -younger brother of _Antony_) at greater length; it proved as difficult -to launch as _Antony._ But, meanwhile, let us return to that night at -the Louvre. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - - We are surrounded in the Louvre courtyard--Our ammunition - taken by surprise--Proclamation of the Écoles--Letter of - Louis-Philippe to La Fayette--The Chamber vote of thanks to - the Colleges--Protest of the École polytechnique--Discussion - at the Chamber upon the General Commandership of the - National Guard--Resignation of La Fayette--The king's - reply--I am appointed second captain - - -During my hour on sentry-go, a great number of artillerymen had come -in; we were almost our full complement. Some, cloaked in mantles, had -gained entrance by the gate on the Carrousel side, although we had been -told it had been closed by order of the Governor of the Louvre. We were -afterwards assured that the Duc d'Orléans was among the number of the -cloaked artillerymen; doubtless, with his usual courage, he wanted to -judge for himself of the temper of the corps to which he was attached. -Just as I re-entered the guardroom, everything was in a frightful state -of commotion; it looked as though the battle was going to break out -in the midst of the very artillery itself, and as though the first -shots would be exchanged between brothers-in-arms. One artilleryman, -whose name I have forgotten, jumped up on a table and began to read -a proclamation that he had just drawn up: it was an appeal to arms. -Scarcely had he read a line before Grille de Beuzelin, who belonged -to the reactionary party, snatched it from his hands and tore it up. -The artilleryman drew his dagger and the affair would probably have -ended tragically, when one of our number rushed into the guardroom, -shouting-- - -"We are surrounded by the National Guard and troops of the line!" - -There was a simultaneous cry of "To our guns!" - -To make a way through the cordon that surrounded us did not disconcert -us at all, for we had more than once vied in skill and quickness -with the artillerymen of Vincennes. Moreover, at the first gunshot -in Paris, as we knew very well, the people would rally to our side. -They had come to see what terms we could offer. The artillerymen who -were not of our opinion had withdrawn to that portion of the Louvre -nearest the Tuileries: there were about a hundred and fifty of them. -Unfortunately, or, rather, fortunately, we learned all at once that -the cellars where we kept our ammunition were empty. The Governor of -the Louvre, foreseeing the events that I have just related, had had -it all taken away during the day. We had therefore no means of attack -or defence beyond our muskets and six or eight cartridges per man. -But these means of defence would seem to have been formidable enough -to make them do nothing more than surround us. We spent the night in -expectation of being attacked at any moment. Those of us who slept did -so with their muskets between their legs. The day broke and found us -still ready for action. The situation gradually turned from tragedy -to comedy: the bakers, wine-sellers and pork--butchers instantly made -their little speculation out of the position of things and assured us -we should not have to surrender from famine. We might be compared to a -menagerie of wild beasts shut up for the public safety. The resemblance -was the more striking when the people began to gaze at us through the -barred windows. Amongst those who came were friends who brought us the -latest news. Drums were beating in every quarter--though that was not -news to us, for we could hear them perfectly well for ourselves--but -the drummers _did not grow tired._ - -Up to noon, the situation of the king, politically, was serious; at -that hour no decision had been arrived at either for or against him. -General La Fayette had, however, published this proclamation-- - - "_Order of the Day_, 21 _December_ - - "The Commander-in-Chief is unable to find words to express - the feelings of his heart in order to show to his brethren - in arms of the National Guard and of the line his admiration - and his gratitude for the zeal, the steadiness and the - devotion they displayed during the painful events of - yesterday. He was quite aware that his confidence in their - patriotism would be justified on every occasion; but he - regrets exceedingly the toils and discomforts to which they - are exposed; he would gladly forestall them hut he can only - share them. We all of us feel equally the need of protecting - the capital against its enemies and against anarchy, of - assuring the safety of families and property, of preventing - our revolution from being stained by crimes and our honour - impugned. We are all as one man jointly and severally - answerable for the carrying out of these sacred duties; - and, amidst the sorrow which yesterday's disorders and - those promised for to-day cause him, the Commander-in-Chief - finds great consolation and perfect security in the kindly - feelings he bears towards his brave and dear comrades of - liberty and public order. - "LA FAYETTE" - -At one o'clock we learnt that students, with cards in their hats, -and students from the École in uniform were going all over the town -together with the National Guards of the 12th legion, urging all to -moderation. At the same time, placards, signed by four students (one -from each College), were stuck up on all the walls. Here is the literal -rendering of one of them-- - - "Those patriots who have devoted their lives and labours - throughout crises of all kinds to the cause of our - independence are still in our midst standing steadfast in - the path of liberty; they, in common with others, want large - concessions on behalf of liberty; but it is not necessary - to use force to obtain them. Let us do things lawfully and - then--a more Republican basis will be sought for in all our - institutions and we shall obtain it; we shall be all the - more powerful if we act openly. _But if these concessions be - not granted, then all patriots and students who side with - democratic Principles will call upon the people to insist - on gaining their demands._ Remember, though, that foreign - nations look with admiration upon our Revolution because we - have exercised generosity and moderation; let them not say - that we are not yet fit to have liberty in our hands, and by - no means let them profit by our domestic quarrels, of which - they, perhaps, are the authors." - - (Then followed the four signatures.) - -The parade in the streets of Paris and these placards on every wall -about the city had the effect of soothing the public mind. The absence, -too, of the artillery, the reason for which they did not know, -also contributed to re-establish tranquillity. The king received a -deputation from the Colleges with great demonstration of affection, -which sent the deputies home delighted, with full assurance that the -liberties they longed for were as good as granted. That night the -National Guard and troops of the line, who had been surrounding us, -fell into rank and took themselves off; and the gates of the Louvre -opened behind them. We left the ordinary guard by the cannon and all -dispersed to our various homes. Things were settled, at all events, for -the time being. - -Next day, came an "order of the day" from La Fayette containing a -letter from the king. We will put aside the "order of the day" and -quote the letter only. We beg our readers to notice the words that are -italicised:-- - - "TUESDAY MORNING, - "22 _December_ - - "It is to you I address myself, my dear general, to transmit - to our brave and indefatigable National Guard the expression - of my admiration for the zeal and energy with which it - has maintained public order and prevented all trouble. - _But it is you, especially, that I ought to thank, my dear - general, you who have just given a fresh example of courage, - patriotism and respect for law, in these days of trial, - as you have done many times besides throughout your long - and noble career._ Express in my name how much I rejoice - at having seen the revival of that splendid institution, - the National Guard, which had been almost entirely taken - away from us, and which has risen up again brilliantly - powerful and patriotic, finer and more numerous than it - has ever been, as soon as the glorious Days of July broke - the trammels by which its enemies flattered themselves they - had crushed it. It is this great institution to which we - certainly owe the triumph amongst us of the sacred cause of - liberty, which both causes our national independence to be - respected abroad, whilst preserving the action of laws from - all attack at home. Do not let us forget that there is no - liberty without law, and that there can be no laws where any - power of whatever kind succeeds in paralysing its action and - exalting itself beyond the reach of laws. - - "These, my dear general, are the sentiments I beg you to - express to the National Guard on my behalf. I count on the - continuation of its efforts AND ON YOURS, so that nothing - may disturb that public peace which Paris and France need - greatly, and which it is essential to preserve. Receive, at - the same time, my dear general, the assurance of the sincere - friendship you know I hold towards you, LOUIS-PHILIPPE" - -As can be seen, on 22 December, the thermometer indicated gratitude. - -On the 23rd, upon the suggestion of M. Laffitte, the Chamber of -Deputies passed a vote of thanks to the young students, couched in -these terms-- - - "A vote of thanks is given to the students of the College - for the loyalty and noble conduct shown by them the day - before in maintaining public order and tranquillity." - -Unluckily, there was a sentence in M. Laffitte's speech requesting the -Chamber to pass this vote of thanks which offended the feelings of the -École polytechnique. The phrase was still further emphasised by the -remarks he made-- - -"The three Colleges," the minister said, "which sent deputations to -the king displayed very noble sentiments and great courage and entire -subjection to law and order, and have given proof of their intentions -to make every effort to ensure the maintenance of order." - -"On what conditions?" then inquired the deputies, who bore in mind the -sentences that we have underlined in the proclamation issued by the -Colleges. - -"NONE ... NO CONDITIONS WERE MADE AT ALL," M. Laffitte replied. "_If -there were a few individuals who had proposals to make or conditions to -offer, such never came to the knowledge of the Government._" - -The next day a protest, signed by eighty-nine students of the -Polytechnique, replied to the thanks of the Chamber and to M. -Laffitte's denial in the following terms:-- - - "A portion of the Chamber of Deputies has condescended - to pass a vote of thanks to the École polytechnique with - reference to certain facts that were _very accurately_ - reported. - - "We, students of the Polytechnique, the undersigned, deny in - part these facts and we decline to receive the thanks of the - Chamber. - - "The students have been traduced, said the protest issued - by the School of Law; we have been accused of wishing to - place ourselves at the head of malcontent artizans, and of - obtaining by brute force the consequences of principles for - which we have sacrificed our very blood. - - "We have solemnly protested, we who paid cash for the - liberty they are now haggling over; we preached public - order, without which liberty is impossible; but we did - not do so in order to procure the thanks and applause of - the Chamber of Deputies. No, indeed! we only fulfilled - our duty. Doubtless, we ought to be proud and elated at - the gratitude of France, but we look in vain for France - in the Chamber of Deputies, and we repudiate the praises - offered us, the condition of which is the assumed disavowal - of a proclamation, the terms and meaning whereof we - unhesitatingly declare that we adopt in the most formal - manner." - -Of course, the Minister for War at once arrested these eighty-nine -students, but their protest had been issued, and the conditions under -which they had consented to support the Government were kept to -themselves. It will, therefore, be seen that the harmony between His -Majesty Louis-Philippe and the students of the three Colleges was not -of long duration. It was not to last much longer either between His -Majesty and poor General La Fayette, for whom he now had no further -use. He had staked his popularity during the troubles in December and -had lost. From that time, he was of no more use to the king, and what -was the good of being kind to a useless person? Two days after that on -which La Fayette received the letter from the king, thanking him for -his past services and expressing the hope for the _continuance of those -services_, the Chamber proposed this amendment to Article 64 of the law -concerning the National Guard, which the deputies had under discussion-- - - "As the office of commander-general of the National Guard - of the kingdom will cease with the circumstances that - rendered the office necessary, that office can never be - renewed without the passing of a fresh law, and no one shall - be appointed to hold the position without such a special - law." - -This simply meant the deposition of General La Fayette. The blow was -the more perfidious as he was not present at the sitting. His absence -is recorded by this passage from the speech which M. Dupin made in -support of the amendment-- - - "I regret that our illustrious colleague is not present - at the sitting; he would himself have investigated this - question; he would, I have no doubt, have declared, as he - did at the Constituent Assembly, that the general command - of the regiments of the National Guard throughout the - kingdom is an impossible function which he would describe as - dangerous." - -M. Dupin forgot that the Constituent Assembly, at any rate, had had the -modesty to wait until the general sent in his resignation. Now, perhaps -it will be said that it was the Chamber which took the initiative, and -that the Government had nothing to do with this untoward blow given -on the cheek of the living programme going on at the Hôtel de Ville. -This would be a mistake. Here is an article of the bill which virtually -implied the resignation of La Fayette-- - - "ARTICLE 50.--In the communes or cantons _where the - National Guard will form several legions_, the king may - appoint a superior commander; _but a superior commander of - the National Guards of a whole department, or even of an - arrondissement of a sous-préfecture, cannot be appointed._" - -The next day after that scandalous debate in the Chamber, General La -Fayette wrote this letter to the king, in his own handwriting this -time, for I have seen the rough draft-- - - "SIRE,--The resolution passed yesterday by the Chamber of - Deputies _with the consent of the king's ministers_, for the - suppression of the general commandantship of the National - Guards at the very same moment that the law is going to - be voted upon, expresses exactly the feeling of the two - branches of the legislative power, _and in particular that - of the one of which I have the honour of being a member._ I - am of opinion that it would be disrespectful if I awaited - any formal information before sending in my resignation of - the prerogatives entrusted to me by royal command. Your - Majesty is aware, and the staff correspondence bill proves - the fact, if needful, that the exercise of the office down - to the present time has not been such a sinecure as was - stated in the Chamber. The king's patriotic solicitude will - provide for it, and it will be important, for instance, - to set at rest, by Ordinances which the law puts at the - king's disposal, the uneasiness that the sub-dividing of - the provincial battalions and the fear of seeing the highly - valuable institution of the artillery throughout the kingdom - confined to garrison or coast towns. - - "The President of the Council was so good as to offer to - give me the honorary commandership; but he himself and - your Majesty will judge that such nominal honours are not - becoming to either the institutions of a free country or to - myself. - - "In respectfully and gratefully handing back to the king the - only mandate that gives me any authority over the National - Guards, I have taken precautions that the service shall - not suffer. General Dumas[1] will take his orders from the - Minister of the Interior; General Carbonnel will control the - service in the capital until your Majesty has been able to - find a substitute, as he, too, wishes to resign. - - "I beg your Majesty to receive my cordial and respectful - regards, LA FAYETTE" - -Louis Blanc, who is usually well informed, said of General La Fayette -that he was a gentleman even in his scorn, and took care not to let the -monarch detect in his letter his profound feelings of personal injury. - -He would not have said so if he had seen the letter to which he refers, -the one, namely, that we have just laid before our readers. But Louis -Blanc may be permitted not to know the contents of this letter, which -were kept secret, and only communicated to a few of the General's -intimate friends. Louis Philippe sent this reply on the same day-- - - "MY DEAR GENERAL,--I have just received _your letter. The - decision you have taken has surprised me as much as it has - pained me._ I HAVE NOT YET HAD TIME TO READ THE PAPERS. The - cabinet meets at one o'clock; I shall, therefore, be free - between four and five, and I shall hope to see you and to be - able to induce you to withdraw your decision. Yours, my dear - general, etc., LOUIS-PHILIPPE" - -We give this letter as a sequel to that of M. Laffitte, and we give -them without commentary of our own; but we cannot, however, resist the -desire to point out to our readers that King Louis-Philippe must have -read the papers in order to know what was going on in the Chamber, and -that at noon on 25 December he had not yet done so! How can anyone -think after this proof of the king's ignorance of his ministers' doings -that he was anything more than constitutional monarch, reigning but not -ruling! But let us note one fact, as M. de Talleyrand remarks on the -end of the reign of the Bourbon dynasty, that on 25 December 1830 the -political career of General La Fayette was over. Another resignation -there was at this time which made less stir, but which, as we shall see -on 1 January 1831, had somewhat odd consequences for me; it was given -in the same day as General La Fayette's and it was that of one of our -two captains of the fourth battery. - -As soon as this resignation was known, the artillerymen held a special -meeting to appoint another captain and, as the majority of the votes -were in favour of me, I was elected second captain. Within twenty-four -hours my lace, epaulettes and worsted cordings were exchanged for -the same in gold. On the 27th, I took command on parade, clad in the -insignia of my new office. We shall soon see how long I was to wear -them. - - -[1] Mathieu Dumas. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - - The Government member--Chodruc-Duclos--His portrait--His - life at Bordeaux--His imprisonment at Vincennes--The - Mayor of Orgon--Chodruc-Duclos converts himself into - a Diogenes--M. Giraud-Savine--Why Nodier was growing - old--Stibert--A lesson in shooting--Death of Chodruc-Duclos - - -Let us bid a truce to politics of which, I daresay, I am quite as tired -as is my reader. Let us put on one side those brave deputies of whom -Barthélemy makes such a delightful portrait, and return to matters more -amusing and creditable. Still, these Memoirs would fail of their end, -if, in passing through a period, they did not reveal themselves to -the public tinged with the colour of that particular period. So much -the worse when that period be dirty; the mud that I have had beneath -my feet has never bespattered either my hands or my face. One quickly -forgets, and I can hear my reader wondering what that charming portrait -is that Barthélemy drew of the deputy. Alas! it is the misfortune of -political works; they rarely survive the time of their birth; flowers -of stormy seasons, they need, in order to live, the muttering of -thunder, the lightning of tempests: they fade when calm is restored; -they die when the sun re-appears. - -Ah, well! I will take from the middle of _La Némésis_ one of those -flowers which seem to be dead; and, as all poetry is immortal, I hold -that it was but sleeping and that, by breathing upon it, it will come -to life again. Therefore, I shall appeal to the poets of 1830 and 1831 -more than once. - - LE DÉPUTÉ MINISTÉRIEL - - "C'était un citoyen aux manières ouvertes, - Ayant un œil serein sous des lunettes vertes; - Il lisait les journaux à l'heure du courrier; - Et, tous les soirs, au cercle, en jouant cœur ou pique, - Il suspendait le whist avec sa philippique - Contre le système Perrier. - - Il avait de beaux plans dont il donnait copie; - C'était, de son aveu, quelque belle utopie, - Pièce de désespoir pour tous nos écrivains; - Baume qui guérirait les blessures des villes, - En nous sauvant la guerre et la liste civiles, - Et l'impôt direct sur les vins. - - Il disait: 'En prenant mon heureux antidote, - Notre pays sera comme une table d'hôte - Où l'on ne verra plus, après de longs repas, - Quand les repus du centre ont quitté leurs serviettes, - Les affamés venir pour récolter les miettes, - Que souvent ils ne trouvent pas!' - - Les crédules bourgeois, que ce langage tente, - Les rentiers du jury, les hommes à patente, - L'écoutaient en disant: 'Que ce langage est beau! - Voilà bien les discours que prononce un digne homme! - Si pour son député notre ville le nomme, - Il fera pâlir Mirabeau!' - - Il fut nommé! Bientôt, de sa ville natale, - Il ne fit qu'un seul bond jusqu'à la capitale, - S'installant en garni dans le quartier du Bac. - On le vit à la chambre assis au côté gauche, - Muet ou ne parlant qu'à son mouchoir de poche, - Constellé de grains de tabac. - - Grave comme un tribun de notre République, - Parfois il regardait evec un œil oblique - Ce centre où s'endormaient tant d'hommes accroupis. - Quel déchirant tableau pour son cœur patriote! - En longs trépignements les talons de sa botte - Fanaient les roses du tapis. - - Lorsque Girod (de l'Ain), qui si mal les préside, - Disait: 'Ceux qui voudront refuser le subside - Se lèveront debout': le tribun impoli, - Foudroyant du regard le ministre vorace, - Bondissait tout d'un bloc sur le banc de sa place - Comme une bombe à Tivoli. - - Quand il était assis, c'était Caton en buste; - Le peuple s'appuyait sur ce torse robuste; - De tous les rangs du cintre on aimait à le voir ... - Qui donc a ramolli ce marbre de Carrare? - Quel acide a dissous cette perle si rare - Dans la patère du pouvoir? - - Peut-être avez-vous vu, dans le cirque hippodrome, - Martin, l'imitateur de l'Androclès de Rome, - Entre ses deux lions s'avancer triomphant; - Son œil fascinateur domptait les bêtes fauves; - Il entrait, sans pâlir, dans leurs sombres alcôves, - Comme dans un berceau d'enfant. - - Aujourd'hui, nous avons la clef de ces mystères. - Il se glissait, la nuit, au chevet des panthères; - Sous le linceul du tigre il étendait la main; - Il trompait leur instinct dans la nocturne scène, - Et l'animal, sans force, à ce jongleur obscène - Obéissait le lendemain! - - Voilà par quels moyens l'Onan du ministère - Énerve de sa main l'homme le plus austère, - Du tribun le plus chaste assouplit la vertu; - Il vient à lui, les mains pleines de dons infâmes; - 'Que veux-tu? lui dit-il; j'ai de l'or, j'ai des femmes, - Des croix, des honneurs! que veux-tu?' - - Eh! qui résisterait à ces dons magnifiques? - Hélas! les députés sont des gens prolifiques; - Ils ont des fils nombreux, tous visant aux emplois, - Tous rêvant, jour et nuit, un avenir prospère, - Tous, par chaque courrier, répétant: 'O mon père! - Placez-nous en faisant des lois!' - - Et le bon père, ému par ces chaudes missives, - Dépose sur son banc les armes offensives, - Se rapproche du centre, et renonce au combat. - Oh! pour faire au budget une constante guerre, - Il faudrait n'avoir point de parents sur la terre, - Et vivre dans le célibat! - - Ou bien, pour résister à ce coupable leurre, - Il faut aller, le soir, où va Dupont (de l'Eure), - Près de lui retremper sa vertu de tribun; - Là veille encor pour nous une pure phalange, - Cénacle politique où personne ne mange - Au budget des deux cent vingt-un!" - -This _cénacle_ referred to our evenings at La Fayette's. Since his -resignation, the general was to be found amidst his young, warm, and -true friends the Republicans, and, more than once, as said Barthélemy, -our callow wrath invigorated the patriotism of the two old men. - -Another man received his dismissal at the same time as La Fayette: this -was Chodruc-Duclos, the Diogenes of the Palais-Royal, the long-bearded -man of whom we have promised to say a few words. - -One morning, the frequenters of those stone galleries were amazed to -see Chodruc-Duclos go by, clad in shoes and stockings, in a coat only -a very little worn and an almost new hat! We will borrow the portrait -of Chodruc-Duclos from Barthélemy; and complete it by a few anecdotes, -gleaned from personal experience, and by others which we believe are -new. When the poet has described all those starving people who swarm -round the cellars of Véfour and of the Frères-Provençaux, he proceeds -to the king of the beggars--Chodruc-Duclos. These are Barthélemy's -lines; they depict the man with that happy touch and that faithfulness -of description which are such characteristic features of the talented -author of _La Némésis_-- - - "Mais, autant qu'un ormeau s'élève sur l'arbuste, - Autant que Cornuet domine l'homme-buste,[1] - Sur cette obscure plèbe errante dans l'enclos, - Autant plane et surgit l'héroïque Duclos. - Dans cet étroit royaume où le destin les parque, - Les terrestres damnés l'ont élu pour monarque: - C'est l'archange déchu, le Satan bordelais, - Le Juif-Errant chrétien, le Melmoth du palais. - Jamais l'ermite Paul, le virginal Macaire, - Marabout, talapoin, faquir, santon du Caire, - Brahme, Guèbre, Parsis adorateur du feu, - N'accomplit sur la terre un plus terrible vœu! - Depuis sept ans entiers, de colonne en colonne, - Comme un soleil éteint ce spectre tourbillonne; - Depuis le dernier soir que l'acier le rasa, - Il a vu trois Véfour et quatre Corazza; - Sous ses orteils, chaussés d'eternelles sandales, - Il a du long portique usé toutes les dalles; - Être mystérieux qui, d'un coup d'œil glaçant, - Déconcerte le rire aux lèvres du passant, - Sur tant d'infortunés, in fortune célèbre! - Des calculs du malheur c'est la vivante algèbre. - De l'angle de Terris jusqu'à Berthellemot, - Il fait tourner sans fin son énigme sans mot. - Est-il un point d'arrêt à cette ellipse immense? - Est-ce dédain sublime, ou sagesse, ou démence? - Qui sait? Il vent peut-être, au bout de son chemin, - Par un enseignement frapper le genre humain; - Peut-être, pour fournir un dernier épisode, - Il attend que Rothschild, son terrestre antipode, - Un jour, dans le palais, l'aborde sans effroi, - En lui disant: 'Je suis plus malheureux que toi!'" - -We will endeavour to be the Œdipus to that Sphinx, and guess the -riddle, the mystery whereof was hidden for a long time. - -Chodruc-Duclos was born at Sainte-Foy, near Bordeaux. He would be -about forty-eight when the Revolution of July took place; he was tall -and strong and splendidly built; his beard hid features that must -have been of singular beauty; but he used ostentatiously to display -his hands, which were always very clean. By right of courage, if not -of skill, he was looked upon as the principal star of that Pleiades -of duellists which flourished at Bordeaux, during the Empire, under -the title of _les Crânes_ (Skulls). They were all Royalists. MM. -Lercaro, Latapie and de Peyronnet were said to be Duclos' most -intimate friends. These men were also possessed of another notable -characteristic: they never fought amongst themselves. Duclos was -suspected of carrying on relations with Louis XVIII. in the very zenith -of the Empire, and was arrested one morning in his bed by the Chief -of the Police, Pierre-Pierre. He was taken to Vincennes, where he was -kept a prisoner until 1814. Set free by the Restoration, he entered -Bordeaux in triumph, and as, during his captivity, he had come into -a small fortune, he resumed his old habits and interlarded them with -fresh diversions. The Royalist government, which recompensed all its -devoted adherents (a virtue that was attributed to it as a crime), -would, no doubt, have been pleased to reward Duclos for his loyalty, -but it was very difficult to find a suitable way of doing so, for he -had the incurable habits of a peripatetic: he was only accustomed to a -nomadic life of fencing, political intrigue, theatre-going, women and -literature. King Louis XVIII., therefore, could not entrust him with -any other public function than that of an everlasting walker, or, as -Barthélemy dubbed it, "_Chrétien_ _errant._" - -Unfortunately, money, however considerable its quantity, comes to an -end some time. When Duclos had exhausted his patrimony, he recollected -his past services for the Bourbon cause and came to Paris to remind -them. But he had remembered too late and had given the Bourbons time -to forget. The business of soliciting for favours, at all events, -exercised his locomotive faculties to the best possible advantage. So, -every morning, two melancholy looking pleaders could be seen to cross -the Pont Royal, like two shades crossing the river Styx, on their way -to beg a good place in the Elysian fields from the minister of Pluto. -One was Duclos, the other the Mayor of Orgon. What had the latter done? -He had thrown the first stone into the emperor's carriage in 1814, and -had come to Paris, stone in hand, to demand his reward. After years of -soliciting, these two faithful applicants, seeing that nothing was -to be obtained, each arrived at a different conclusion. The Mayor of -Orgon, completely ruined, tied his stone round his own neck and threw -himself into the Seine. Duclos, much more philosophically inclined, -decided upon living, and, in order to humiliate the Government to which -he had sacrificed three years of his liberty, and M. de Peyronnet, -with whom he had had many bouts by the banks of the Garonne, bought -old clothes, as he had not the patience to wait till his new ones -grew old, bashed in the top of his hat, gave up shaving himself, tied -sandals over his old shoes, and began that everlasting promenade up -and down the arcades of the Palais-Royal which exercised the wisdom -of all the Œdipuses of his time. Duclos never left the Palais-Royal -until one in the morning, when he went to the rue du Pélican, where -he lodged, to sleep, not exactly in furnished apartments, but, more -correctly speaking, in _unfurnished_ ones. In the course of his -promenading, which lasted probably a dozen years, Duclos (with only -three exceptions, which we are about to quote, one of them being made -in our own favour) never went up to anyone to speak to him, no matter -who he was. Like Socrates, he communed alone with his own familiar -spirit; no tragic hero ever attempted such a complete monologue!--One -day, however, he departed from his habits, and walked straight towards -one of his old friends, M. Giraud-Savine, a witty and learned man, as -we shall find out later, who afterwards became deputy to the Mayor of -Batignolles. M. Giraud's heart stood still with fright for an instant, -for he thought he was going to be robbed of his purse; but he was -wrong: for Duclos never borrowed anything. - -"Giraud," he asked in a deep bass voice, "which is the best translation -of Tacitus?" - -"There isn't one!" replied M. Giraud. - -Duclos shook his treasured rags in sad dejection, then returned, like -Diogenes, to his tub. Only, his tub happened to be the Palais-Royal. - -On another occasion, whilst I was chatting with Nodier, opposite the -door of the café de Foy, Duclos passed and stared attentively at -Nodier. Nodier, who knew him, thought he must want to speak to him, -and took a step towards him. But Duclos shook his head and went on his -way without saying anything. Nodier then gave me various details of -the life of this odd being; after which we separated. During our talk, -Duclos had had time to make the round of the Palais-Royal; so, going -back by the Théâtre-Français, I met him very nearly opposite the café -Corazza. He stopped right in front of me. - -"Monsieur Dumas," he said to me, "Do you know Nodier?" - -"Very well." - -"Do you like him?" - -"With all my heart I do." - -"Do you not think he grows old very fast?" - -"I must confess I agree with you that he does." - -"Do you know why?" - -"No." - -"Well, I will tell you: _Because he does not take care of himself!_ -Nothing ages a man more quickly than neglecting his health!" - -He continued his walk and left me quite stunned; not by his -observation, sagacious as it was; but by the thought that it was -Chodruc-Duclos who had made it. - -The Revolution of July 1830 had, for the moment, interrupted the -inveterate habits of two men--Stibert and Chodruc-Duclos. - -Stibert was-as confirmed a gambler as Duclos was an indefatigable -walker. Frascati's, where Stibert spent his days and nights, was -closed; the Ordinances had suspended the game of _trente-et-un_, until -the monarchy of July should suppress it altogether. Stibert had not -patience to wait till the Tuileries was taken: on 28 July, at three -in the afternoon, he compelled the concierge at Frascati's to open -its doors to him and to play picquet with him. Duclos, for his part, -coming from his rooms to go to his beloved Palais-Royal, found the -Swiss defending the approaches to it. Some youths had begun a struggle -with them, and one of them, armed with a regulation rifle, was firing -on the red-coats with more courage than skill. Duclos watched him and -then, growing impatient that anyone should risk his life thus wantonly, -he said to the youth-- - -"Hand me your rifle. I will show you how to use it." - -The young fellow lent it him and Duclos took aim. - -"Look!" he said; and down dropped a Swiss. - -Duclos returned the youth his rifle. - -"Oh," said the latter, "upon my word! if you can use it to such good -purpose as that, stick to it!" - -"Thanks!" replied Duclos, "I am not of that opinion," and, putting -the rifle into the youth's hands, he crossed right through the very -centre of the firing and re-entered the Palais-Royal, where he resumed -his accustomed walk past the bronze Apollo and marble Ulysses, the -only society he had the chance of meeting during the 27, 28 and 29 -July. This was the third and last time upon which he opened his -mouth. Duclos, engrossed as he was with his everlasting walk, would, -doubtless, never have found a moment in which to die; only one morning -he forgot to wake up. The inhabitants of the Palais-Royal, astonished -at having been a whole day without meeting the man with the long -beard, learnt, on the following day, from the Cornuet papers, that -Chodruc-Duclos had fallen into the sleep that knows no waking, upon his -pallet bed in the rue du Pélican. - -For three or four years, Duclos, as we have said, had clad himself -in garments more like those of ordinary people. The Revolution of -July, which exiled the Bourbons, and the trial of the ex-ministers, -which ostracised M. de Peyronnet to Ham, removed every reason for his -ragged condition, and set a limit to his revenge. In spite of, perhaps -even on account of, this change of his outward appearance, Duclos, -like Epaminondas, left nothing wherewith to pay for his funeral. The -Palais-Royal buried him by public subscription. - -General La Fayette resigned his position, and Chodruc-Duclos his -revenge. A third notability resigned his life; namely, Alphonse Rabbe, -whom we have already briefly mentioned, and who deserves that we should -dedicate a special chapter to him. - - -[1] Cornuet occupied one of those literary pavilions which were erected -at each end of the garden of the Palais-Royal; the other was occupied -by a dwarf who was all body and seemed to crawl on almost invisible -legs. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - - Alphonse Rabbe--Madame Cardinal--Rabbe and the Marseilles - Academy--_Les Massénaires_--Rabbe in Spain--His return--The - _Old Dagger_--The Journal _Le Phocéen_--Rabbe in prison--The - writer of fables--_Ma pipe_ - - -Alphonse Rabbe was born at Riez, in the Basses-Alpes. As is the case -with all deep and tender-hearted people, he was greatly attached to -his own country; he talked of it on every opportunity, and, to believe -him, its ancient Roman remains were as remarkable as those of Arles -or Nîmes. Rabbe was one of the most extraordinary men of our time; -and, had he lived, he would, assuredly, have become one of the most -remarkable. Alas! who remembers anything about him now, except Méry, -Hugo and myself? As a matter of fact, poor Rabbe gave so many fragments -of his life to others that he had not time, during his thirty-nine -years, to write one of those books which survive their authors; he -whose words, had they been taken down in shorthand, would have made a -complete library; he who brought into the literary and political world, -Thiers, Mignet, Armaud Carrel, Méry and many others, who are unaware of -it, has disappeared from this double world, without leaving any trace -beyond two volumes of fragments, which were published by subscription -after his death, with an admirable preface in verse by Victor Hugo. -Furthermore, in order to quote some portions of these fragments that I -had heard read by poor Rabbe himself, compared with whom I was quite an -unknown boy (I had only written _Henri III._ when he died), I wanted -to procure those two volumes: I might as well have set to work to find -Solomon's ring! But I found them at last, where one finds everything, -in the rue des Cannettes, in Madame Cardinal's second-hand bookshop. -The two volumes had lain there since 1835; they were on her shelves, in -her catalogue, had been on show in the window! but they were not even -cut! and I was the first to insert an ivory paper-knife between their -virgin pages, after eighteen years waiting! Unfortunate Rabbe; this was -the last touch to your customary ill-luck! Fate seemed ever against -him; all his life long he was looking for a revolution. He would have -been as great as Catiline or Danton at such a crisis. When 1830 dawned, -he had been dead for twenty-four hours! When Rabbe was eighteen, he -competed for an academic prize. The subject was a eulogy of Puget. A -noble speech, full of new ideas, a glowing style of southern eloquence, -were quite sufficient reasons to prevent Rabbe being successful, or -from even receiving honourable mention; but, in this failure, his -friends could discern the elements of Rabbe's future brilliancy, should -Fortune's wheel turn in his favour. Alas! fortune was academic in -Rabbe's case, and Rabbe had Orestes for his patron. - -Gifted with a temperament that was carried away by the passion of the -moment, Rabbe took it into his head to become the enemy of Masséna in -1815. Why? No one ever really knew, not even Rabbe! He then published -his _Massénaires_, written in a kind of prose iambics, in red-hot -zeal. This brochure set him in the ranks of the Royalist party. A -fortnight later, he became reconciled with the conqueror of Zurich, and -he set out on a mission to Spain. From thence dated all poor Rabbe's -misfortunes; it was in Spain that he was attacked by a disease which -had the sad defect of not being fatal. What was this scourge, this -plague, this contagious disease? He shall tell us in his own words; we -will not deprive him of his right to give the particulars himself-- - - "Alas! O my mother, thou couldst not make me invulnerable - when thou didst bear me, by dipping me in the icy waters of - the Styx! Carried away by a fiery imagination and imperious - desires, I wasted the treasures and incense of my youth upon - the altars of criminal voluptuousness; pleasure, which - should be the parent of and not the destroyer of human - beings, devoured the first springs of my youth. When I look - at myself, I shudder! Is that image really myself? What - hand has seared my face with those hideous signs?... What - has become of that forehead which displayed the candour of - my once pure spirit? of those bleared eyes, which terrify, - which once expressed the desires of a heart that was full - of hope and without a single regret, and whose voluptuous - yet serious thoughts were still free from shameful trammels? - A kindly tolerant smile ever lighted them up when they - fell on one of my fellows; but, now, my bold and sadly - savage looks say to all: 'I have lived and suffered; I - have known your ways and long for death!' What has become - of those almost charming features which once graced my - face with their harmonious lines? That expression of happy - good nature, which once gave pleasure and won me love and - kindly hearts, is now no longer visible! All has perished in - degradation! God and nature are avenged! When, hereafter, I - shall experience an affectionate impulse, the expression of - my features will betray my soul; and when I go near beauty - and innocence, they will fly from me! What inexpressible - tortures! What frightful punishment! Henceforth, I must - find all my virtues in the remorse that consumes my life; I - must purify myself in the unquenchable fires of never-dying - sorrow; and ascend to the dignity of my being by means of - profound and poignant regret for having sullied my soul. - When I shall have earned rest by my sufferings, my youth - will have gone.... But there is another life and, when I - cross its threshold, I shall be re-clothed in the robe of - immortal youth!" - -Take notice, reader, that, before that unfortunate journey to Spain, -Alphonse Rabbe was never spoken of otherwise than as the _Antinous of -Aix._ An incurable melancholy took possession of him from this period. - -"I have outlived myself!" he said, shaking his head sadly. Only his -beautiful hair remained of his former self. Accursed be the invention -of looking-glasses! By thirty, he had already stopped short of two -attempts at suicide. But his hands were not steady enough and the -dagger missed his heart. We have all seen that dagger to which Rabbe -offered a kind of worship, as the last friend to whom he looked for -the supreme service. He has immortalised this dagger. Read this and -tell me if ever a more virile style sprung from a human pen-- - - THE OLD DAGGER - - "Thou earnest out of the tomb of a warrior, whose fate is - unknown to us; thou wast alone, and without companion of thy - kind, hung on the walls of the wretched haunt of a dealer in - pictures, when thy shape and appearance struck my attention. - I felt the formidable temper of thy blade; I guessed the - fierceness of thy point through the sheath of thick rust - which covered thee completely. I hastened to bargain so as - to have thee in my power; the low-born dealer, who only saw - in thee a worthless bit of iron, will give thee up, almost - for nothing, to my jealous eagerness. I will carry thee - off secretly, pressed against my heart; an extraordinary - emotion, mingled with joy, rage and confidence, shook my - whole being. I feel the same shuddering every time I seize - hold of thee.... Ancient dagger! We will never leave one - another more! - - "I have rid thee of that injurious rust, which, even after - that long interval of time, has not altered thy form. - Here, thou art restored to the glories of the light; thou - flashest as thou comest forth from that deep darkness. I - did not imprudently entrust thee to a mercenary workman to - repair the injustice of those years: I myself, for two days, - carefully worked to repolish thee; it is I who preserved - thee from the injurious danger of being at the first moment - confused with worthless old iron, from the disgrace, - perhaps, of going to an obscure forge, to be transformed - into a nail to shoe the mule of an iniquitous Jesuit. - - "What is the reason that thy aspect quickens the flow of - my blood, in spite of myself?... Shall I not succeed in - understanding thy story? To what century dost thou belong? - What is the name of the warrior whom thou followedst to his - last resting-place? What is the terrible blow which bent - thee slightly?... - - "I have left thee that mark of thy good services: to efface - that imperceptible curve which made thy edge uneven, thou - wouldst have had to be submitted to the action of fire; but - who knows but that thou mightst have lost thy virtue? Who, - then, would have given me back the secret of that blade, - strong and obedient to that which the breastplate did not - always withstand, when the blow was dealt with a valiant arm? - - "Was it in the blood of a newly killed bull that thy point - was buried on first coming out of the fire? Was it in the - cold air of a narrow gorge of mountains? Was it in the syrup - prepared from certain herbs or, perhaps, in holy oil? None - of our best craftsmen, not Bromstein himself, could tell. - - "Tell me whom thou hast comforted and whom punished? Hast - thou avenged the outlaw for the judicial murder of his - father? Hast thou, during the night, engraved on some - granite columns the sentence of those who passed sentence? - Thou canst only have obeyed powerful and just passions; - the intrepid man who wanted to carry thee away with him to - his last resting-place had baptized thee in the blood of a - feudal oppressor. - - "Thou art pure steel; thy shape is bold, but without studied - grace; thou wast not, indeed, frivolously wrought to adorn - the girdle of a foppish carpet-knight of the court of - Francis I., or of Charles-Quint; thou art not of sufficient - beauty to have been thus commonplace; the filigree-work - which ornaments thy hilt is only of red copper, that - brilliant shade of red which colours the summit of the Mont - de la Victoire on long May evenings. - - "What does this broad furrow mean which, a quarter of the - length down thy blade to the hilt, is pierced with a score - of tiny holes like so many loop-holes? Doubtless they were - made so that the blood could drip through, which shoots and - gushes along the blade in smoking bubbles when the blow has - gone home. Oh! if I shed some evil blood I too should wish - it to drain off and not to soil my hands.... If it were the - blood of a powerful enemy to one's country, little would - it matter if it was left all blood smeared; I should have - settled my accounts with this wretched world beforehand, - and then thou wouldst not fail me at need; thou wouldst do - me the same service as thou renderest formerly to him whose - bones the tomb received along with thee. - - "In storms of public misfortunes, or in crises of personal - adversity, the tomb is often the only refuge for noble - hearts; it, at any rate, is impregnable and quiet: there one - can brave accusers and the instruments of despotism, who are - as vile as the accusers themselves! - - "Open the gates of eternity to me, I implore thee! Since - it needs must be, we will go together, my old dagger, thou - and I, as with a new friend. Do not fail me when my soul - shall ask transit of thee; afford to my hand that virile - self-reliance which a strong man has in himself; snatch me - from the outrages of petty persecutors and from the slow - torture of the unknown!" - -Although this dagger was treasured by the unhappy Rabbe, as we have -mentioned, it was not by its means that the _accursed one_, as he -called himself, was to put an end to his miseries. Rabbe was only -thirty and had strength enough in him yet to go on living. - -So, in despair, he dragged out his posthumous existence and flung -himself into the political arena, as a gladiator takes comfort to -himself by showing himself off between two tigers. - -1821 began; the death of the Duc de Berry served as an excuse for many -reactionary laws; Alphonse Rabbe now found his golden hour; he came to -Marseilles and started _Le Phocéen_, in a countryside that was a very -volcano of Royalism. Would you hear how he addresses those in power? -Then listen. Hear how he addressed men of influence-- - - "Oligarchies are fighting for the rays of liberty across the - dead body of an unfortunate prince.... O Liberty! mark with - thy powerful inspirations those hours of the night which - William Tell and his friends used to spend in striking blows - to redress wrongs!..." - -When liberty is invoked in such terms she rarely answers to the call. -One morning, someone knocked at Rabbe's door; he went to open it, -and two policemen stood there who asked him to accompany them to the -prison. When Rabbe was arrested, all Marseilles rose up in a violent -Royalist explosion against him. An author who had written a couple of -volumes of fables took upon himself to support the Bourbon cause in one -of the papers. Rabbe read the article and replied-- - -"Monsieur, in one of your apologues you compare yourself to a sheep; -well and good. Then, _monsieur le mouton_, go on, cropping your tender -grass and stop biting other things!" - -The writer of fables paid a polite call upon Rabbe; they shook hands -and all was forgotten. - -However, the _Phocéen_ had been suspended the very day its chief -editor was arrested. Rabbe was set free after a narrow escape of being -assassinated by those terrible Marseillais Royalists who, during the -early years of the Restoration, left behind them such wide traces -of bloodshed. He went to Paris, where his two friends, Thiers and -Mignet, had already won a high position in the hôtels of Laffite and -of Talleyrand. If Rabbe had preserved the features of Apollo and the -form of Antinous, he would have won all Parisian society by his charm -of manner and his delightful winning mental attainments; but his mirror -condemned him to seclusion more than ever. His sole, his only, friend -was his pipe; Rabbe smoked incessantly. We have read the magnificent -prose ode he addressed to his dagger; let us see how, in another style, -he spoke to his pipe, or, rather, of his pipe. - - MA PIPE - - "Young man, light my pipe; light it and give it to me, so - that I can chase away a little of the weariness of living, - and give myself up to forgetfulness of everything, whilst - this imbecile people, eager after gross emotions, hastens - its steps towards the pompous ceremony of the Sacred-Heart - in opulent and superstitious Marseilles. - - "I myself hate the multitude and its stupid excitement; I - hate these fairs either sacred or profane, these festivals - with all their cheating games, at the cost of which an - unlucky people consents readily to forget the ills which - overwhelm it; I hate these signs of servile respect which - the duped crowd lavishes on those who deceive and oppress - it; I hate that worship of error which absolves crime, - afflicts innocence and drives the fanatic to murder by its - inhuman doctrines of exclusiveness! - - "Let us forgive the dupes! All those who go to these - festivals are promised pleasure. Unfortunate human beings! - We pursue this alluring phantom along all kinds of roads. To - be elsewhere than one is, to change place and affections, - to leave the supportable for worse, to go after novelty - upon novelty, to obtain one more sensation, to grow old, - burdened with unsatisfied desires, to die finally without - having lived, such is our destiny! - - "What do I myself look for at the bottom of thy little - bowl, O my pipe! Like an alchemist, I am searching how to - transmute the woes of the present into fleeting delights; - I inhale thy smoke with hurried draughts in order to carry - happy confusion to my brain, a quick delirium, that is - preferable to cold reflection; I seek for sweet oblivion - from what is, for the dream of what is not, and even for - that which cannot be. - - "Thou makest me pay dear for thy easy consolations; the - brain is possibly consumed and weakened by the daily - repetition of these disordered emotions. Thought becomes - idle, and the imagination runs riot from the habit of - depicting such wandering agreeable fictions. - - "The pipe is the touch-stone of the nerves, the true - dynamometer of slender tissues. Young people who conceal a - delicate and feminine organisation beneath a man's clothing - do not smoke, for they dread cruel convulsions, and, what - would be still more cruel, the loss of the favours of Venus. - Smoke, on the contrary, unhappy lovers, ardent and restless - spirits tormented with the weight of your thoughts. - - "The savants of Germany keep a pipe on their desks; it is - through the waves of tobacco smoke that they search after - truths of the intellectual and the spiritual order. That is - why their works, always a little nebulous, exceed the reach - of our French philosophers, whom fashion, and the salons, - compel to inhale more urbane and gracious perfumes. - - "When Karl Sand, the delegate of the Muses of Erlangen, came - to Kotzebue's house, the old man, before joining him, had - him presented with coffee and a pipe. This token of touching - hospitality did not in the least disarm the dauntless young - man: a tear moistened his eyelid; but he persisted. Why? He - sacrificed himself for liberty! - - "The unhappy man works during the day; and, at night, his - bread earned, with arms folded, before his tumble-down - doorway, with the smoke of his pipe he drives away the few - remaining thoughts that the repose of his limbs may leave - him. - - "O my pipe! what good things I owe to thee! If an - importunate person, a foolish talker, a despicable fanatic, - comes and addresses me, I quickly draw a cigar from my case - and begin to smoke, and, henceforth, if I am condemned to - the affliction of listening, I at least escape the penalty - of replying to him. At intervals, a bitter smile compresses - my lips, and the fool flatters himself that I approve him! - He attributes to the effect of the rash cigar the equivocal - heed I pay to his babble.... He redoubles his loquacity; - but, stifled by his impertinence, I suddenly emit the clouds - of thick smoke which I have collected in my mouth, like the - scorn within my breast. - - "I exhale both at once, burning vapour and repressed - indignation. Oh! how nauseating is the idiocy of others to - him who is already out of love with, and wearied of, his - own burdens!... I smother him with smoke! If only I could - asphyxiate the fool with the lava from my tiny volcano! - - "But when a friend who is lovable alike in mind and heart - comes to me, the pleasure of the pipe quickens the happiness - of the meeting. After the first talk, which rapidly flows - along, whilst the lighted punch scatters the spirituous - particles which abound in the sparkling flame of the - liqueur, the glasses clink together: Friend, from this day - and for a year hence, let us drain the brotherly cup under - the happiest auspices! - - "Then we light two cigars, just alike; incited by my friend - to talk on a thousand different topics, I often let mine go - out, and he gives me a light again from his own.... I am - like an old husband who relights a score of times from the - lips of a young beauty the flame of his passion, as impotent - as many times over. O my friend! when, then, will happier - days shine forth? - - "Tell me, my friend, in those parts from whence thou comest, - are men filled with hope and courage? Do they keep constant - and faithful to the worship of our great goddess, Liberty? - ... Tell me, if thou knowest, how long we must still chafe - at the humiliating bit which condemns us to silence?... - - "How it hinders me from flinging down my part of servitude! - How it delays me from seeing the vain titles of tyranny, - which oppress us, reduced to powder; from seeing the ashes - of a dishonoured diadem scattered at the breath of patriots - as the ashes of my pipe are scattered by mine! My soul is - weary of waiting, friend; I warn thee, and with horror I - meditate upon the doings of such sad waywardness. See how - this people, roused wholly by the infamous sect of Loyola, - rushes to fling itself before their strange processions! - Young and old, men and women, all hasten to receive their - hypocritical and futile benedictions! The fools! if the - plague passed under a canopy they would run to see it pass - by and kneel before it! Tell me, friend, is such a people - fit for liberty? Is it not rather condemned to grow old - and still be kept in the infantine swaddling clothes of a - two-fold bondage? - - "Men are still but children. Nevertheless, the human race - increases and goes on progressing continually, and meanwhile - stretches its bonds till they break. The time draws near - when it will no longer listen to the lame man who calls - upon it to stop, when it will no longer ask its way of - the blind. May the world become enlightened! God desires - it!... And we, my friend, we will smoke whilst we watch - for the coming dawn. Happily, friend, liberty has her - secrets, her resources. This people, which seems to us for - ever brutalised, is, however, educating itself and every - day becomes more enlightened! Friend, we will forgive the - slaves for running after distractions; we will bear with the - immodest mother who prides herself that her daughters will - pass for virgins when they have been blessed. We will not be - surprised that old scoundrels hope to sweat out the seeds - of their crimes, exhausting themselves to carry despicable - images. - - "O my pipe! every day do I owe thee that expressive emblem - of humility which religion only places once a year on - the brow of the adoring Christian: Man is but dust and - ashes.... That, in fact, is all which remains at the last - of the tenderest or most magnanimous heart, of hearts - over-intoxicated with joy or pride, or those consumed with - the bitterest pains. - - "These small remnants of men, these ashes, the lightest - zephyr scatter into the empty air.... Where, then, is the - dust of Alexander, where the ashes of Gengis? They are - nothing more than vain historic phantoms; those great - subduers of nations, those terrible oppressors of men, what - are they but fine-sounding names, objects of vain enthusiasm - or of useless malediction! - - "I, too, shall soon perish; all that makes up my being, my - very name, will disappear like light smoke.... In a few - days' time, perhaps at the very spot where I now write, it - will not even be known that I have ever existed.... Now, - does something imperishable breathe forth and rise up on - high from this perishable body? Does there dwell in man one - spark worthy to light the calumet of the angels upon the - pavements of the heavens?... O my pipe! chase away, banish - this ambitious and baneful desire after the unknown and the - impenetrable!" - -We may be mistaken, but it seems to us that one would search in vain -for anything more melancholy in _Werther_ or more bitter in _Don Juan_, -than the pages we have just read. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - - Rabbe's friends_--La Sœur grise_--The historical résumés--M. - Brézé's advice--An imaginative man--Berruyer's style--Rabbe - with his hairdresser, his concierge and confectioner--_La - Sœur grise_ stolen_--Le Centaure._ - - -Alphonse Rabbe's most assiduous disciples were Thiers and Mignet;[1] -they came to see him most days and treated him with the respect of -pupils towards their master. But Rabbe was independent to the verge -of intractability; and always ready to rear even under the hand that -caressed him. Now, Rabbe discerned that these two writers were already -on the way to become historians, had no desire to make a third in a -trio with them and resolved to be more true to life than the historians -and to write a novel. Walter Scott was then all the rage in London and -Paris. - -Rabbe seized paper and pen and wrote the title of his novel on the -first leaf, _La Sœur grise._ Then he stopped, and I dare go so far even -as to say that this first page was never turned over. True, what Rabbe -did in imagination was much more real to him than what he actually did. - -Félix Bodin had just begun to inaugurate the era of _Résumés -historiques_; the publishers, Lecointe and Roret, went about asking for -summaries from anyone at all approaching an author; résumés showered in -like hail; the very humblest scholar felt himself bound to send in his -résumé. - -There was a regular scourge of them; even the most harmless of persons -were attacked with the disease. Rabbe eclipses all those obscure -writers at abound; he published, successively, résumés of the history -of Spain, of Portugal and of Russia; all extending to several editions. -These three volumes showed admirable talent for the writing of history, -and their only defect was the commonplace title under which they were -published. - -"What are you working at?" Thiers often asked Alphonse Rabbe, as they -saw the reams of paper he was using up. - -"I am at work on my _Sœur grise_," he replied. - -In the summer of 1824, Mignet made a journey to Marseilles where, -before all his friends, he spread the praises of Rabbe's forthcoming -novel, _La Sœur grise_, which Mignet believed to be nearly completed. -Besides these fine books of history, Alphonse Rabbe wrote excellent -articles in the _Courrier-Français_ on the Fine Arts. On this subject, -he was not only a great master but, in addition, a great critic. He was -possibly slightly unfair to Vaudeville drama and a little severe on its -exponents; he carried this injustice almost to the point of hatred. -A droll adventure arose out of his dislike. A compatriot of Rabbe, a -Marseillais named M. Brézé (you see we sometimes put _Monsieur_) was -possessed by an ardent desire for giving Rabbe advice. (Let us here -insert, parenthetically, the observation that the Marseillais are born -advisers, specially when their advice is unsolicited.) - -Well, M. Brézé had given endless advice to Rabbe while he was still at -Marseilles, advice which we can easily guess he took good care not to -follow. M. Brézé came to Paris and met Barthélemy, the poet, at the -Palais-Royal. The two compatriots entered into conversation with one -another-- - -"What is Rabbe doing?" asked M. Brézé. - -"Résumés." - -"Ah! so Rabbe is doing résumés?" repeated M. Brézé. "Hang it all!" - -"Quite so." - -"What are these résumés?" - -"The quintessence of history compressed into small volumes instead of -being spun out into large ones." - -"How many such résumés does he do in the year?" - -"Perhaps one and a half or two at the most." - -"And how much does a résumé bring in?" - -"I believe twelve hundred francs." - -"So, if Rabbe works all the year and has only done one résumé and a -half, he has earned eighteen hundred francs?" - -"Eighteen hundred francs, yes! by Jove!" - -"Hum!" - -And M. Brézé began to reflect. Then, suddenly, he asked--"Do you think -Rabbe is as clever as M. Scribe?" - -The question was so unlooked for and, above all, so inappropriate, that -Barthélemy began to laugh. - -"Why, yes," he said; "only it is cleverness of a different order." "Oh! -that does not matter!" - -"Why does it not matter?" - -"If he has as much talent as M. Scribe it is all that is necessary." - -Again he fell into reflection; then, after a pause he said to -Barthélemy-- - -"Is it true that M. Scribe earns a hundred thousand francs a year?" - -"People say so," replied Barthélemy. - -"Well, then," said M. Brézé, "in that case I must offer Rabbe some -advice." - -"You?" - -"Yes, I." - -"You are quite capable of doing so--what will it be?" - -"I must tell him to leave off writing his résumés and take to writing -vaudevilles." - -The advice struck Barthélemy as a magnificent joke. - -"Say that again," he said to M. Brézé. - -"I must advise Rabbe to leave off writing his résumés and take to -writing vaudevilles." - -"My goodness!" exclaimed Barthélemy, "do offer him that advice, -Monsieur Brézé." - -"I will." - -"When?" - -"The first time I see him." - -"You promise me you will?" - -"On my word of honour." - -"Whatever you do don't forget!" - -"Make your mind quite easy." - -Barthélemy and M. Brézé shook hands and separated. M. Brézé very much -delighted with himself for having conceived such a splendid idea; -Barthélemy with only one regret, that he could not be at hand when he -put his idea into execution. - -As a matter of fact, M. Brézé met Rabbe one day, upon the Pont des -Arts. Rabbe was then deep in Russian history: he was as pre-occupied as -Tacitus. - -"Oh! I am pleased to see you, my dear Rabbe!" said M. Brézé, as he came -up to him. - -"And I to see you," said Rabbe. - -"I have been looking for you for the past week." - -"Indeed." - -"Upon my word, I have!" - -"What for?" - -"My dear Rabbe, you know how attached I am to you?" - -"Why, yes!" - -"Well, then, in your own interest ... you understand? In your interest -..." - -"Certainly, I understand." - -"Well, I have a piece of advice to offer you." - -"To offer me?" - -"Yes, you." - -"Give it me, then," said Rabbe, looking at Brézé over his spectacles, -as he was in the habit of doing, when he felt great surprise or people -began to bore him. - -"Believe me, I speak as a friend." - -"I do not doubt it; but what is the advice?" - -"Rabbe, my friend, instead of making résumés, write vaudevilles!" - -A deep growl sounded from the historian's breast. He seized the offerer -of advice by the arm, and in an awful voice he said to him-- - -"Monsieur, one of my enemies must have sent you to insult me." - -"One of your enemies?" - -"It was Latouche!" - -"Why, no ..." - -"Then it was Santo-Domingo!" - -"No." - -"Or Loëve-Weymars!" - -"I swear to you it was none of them." - -"Tell me the name of the insulting fellow." - -"Rabbe! my dear Rabbe!" - -"Give me his name, monsieur, or I will take you by the heels and pitch -you into the Seine, as Hercules threw Pirithous into the sea." - -Then, perceiving that he had got mixed in his quotation-- - -"Pirithous or some other, it is all the same!" - -"But I take my oath ..." - -"Then it is you yourself?" exclaimed Rabbe, before Brézé had time to -finish his sentence. "Well, monsieur, you shall account to me for this -insult!" - -At this proposition, Brézé gave such a jump that he tore himself from -the pincer-like grip that held him and ran to put himself under the -protection of the pensioner who took the toll at the bridge. - -Rabbe took himself off after first making a gesture significant of -future vengeance. Next day he had forgotten all about it. Brézé, -however, remembered it ten years afterwards! - -Two explanations must follow this anecdote which ought really to have -preceded it. From much study of the _Confessions_ of Jean-Jacques -Rousseau, Rabbe had imbibed something of the character of the -susceptible Genevese; he thought there was a general conspiracy -organised against him: that his Catiline and Manlius and Spartacus were -Latouche, Santo-Domingo and Loëve-Weymars; he even went so far as to -suspect his two Pylades, Thiers and Mignet. - -"They are my d'Alembert and Diderot!" he said. - -It was quite evident he believed Brézé's suggestion was the result of a -conspiracy that was just breaking out. - -Rabbe's life was a species of perpetual hallucination, an existence -made up of dreams; and sleep, itself, the only reality. One day, he -button-holed Méry; his manner was gloomy, his hand on his breast -convulsively crumpled his shirt-front. - -"Well," he exclaimed, shaking his head up and down, "I told you so!" - -"What?" - -"That he was an enemy of mine." - -"Who?" - -"Mignet." - -"But, my dear Rabbe, he is nothing of the kind.... Mignet loves and -admires you." - -"Ah! _he_ love me!" - -"Yes." - -"_He_ admire me!" - -"No doubt of it." - -"Well, do you know what the man who professes to love and admire me -said of me?" - -"What did he say?" - -"Why, he said that I was a man of IMAGINATION, yes, he did." - -Méry assumed an air of consternation to oblige Rabbe. Rabbe, to revenge -himself for Mignet's insult, wrote in the preface of a second edition -of his résumés these crushing words-- - -"The pen of the historian ought not to be like a leaden pipe through -which a stream of tepid water flows on to the paper." - -From this moment, his wrath against historians,--modern historians, -that is, of course: he worshipped Tacitus,--knew no bounds; and, when -there were friends present at his house and all historians were absent, -he would declaim in thunderous tones-- - -"Would you believe it, gentlemen, there are in France, at the present -moment and of our generation and rank, historians who take it into -their heads to copy the style of the veterans, Berruyer, Catrou and -Rouille? Yes, in each line of their modern battles they will tell -you that thirty thousand men were _cut in pieces_, or that they _bit -the dust_, or that they _were left lying strewn upon the scene._ How -behind the times these youngsters are! The other day, one of them, in -describing the battle of Austerlitz, wrote this sentence: 'Twenty-five -thousand Russians were drawn up in battle upon a vast frozen lake; -Napoléon gave orders that firing should be directed against this lake. -Bullets broke through the ice and the twenty-five thousand Russians BIT -THE DUST!'" - -It is curious to note that such a sentence was actually written in -one of the résumés of that date. The second remark that we ought to -have made will explain the comparison that Rabbe had hazarded when -he spoke of himself as Hercules and of Brézé as Pirithous. He had so -effectually contracted the habit of using grand oratorical metaphor and -stilted language, that he could never descend to a more familiar style -of speech in his relations with more ordinary people. Thus, he once -addressed his hairdresser solemnly in the following terms:-- - -"Do not disarrange the economy of my hair too much; let the strokes of -your comb fall lightly on my head, and take care, as Boileau says, that -'L'ivoire trop hâté ne se brise en vos mains!'" - -He said to his porter-- - -"If some friend comes and knocks at my hospitable portal, deal kindly -with him.... I shall soon return: I go to breathe the evening air upon -the Pont des Arts." - -He said to his pastry-cook, Grandjean, who lived close by him in the -rue des Petits-Augustins-- - -"Monsieur Grandjean, the vol-au-vent that you did me the honour to send -yesterday had a crust of Roman cement, obstinate to the teeth; give a -more unctuous turn to your culinary art and people will be grateful to -you." - -While all these things were happening, Rabbe fully imagined that he was -writing his novel, _La Sœur grise._ - -One day, Thiers came in to see him, as was his custom. - -"Well, Rabbe," he said, "what are you at work upon now?" - -"Parbleu!" replied Rabbe, "the same as usual, you know! My _Sœur -grise._" - -"It ought to be nearly finished by now." - -"It is finished." - -"Oh, indeed!" - -"Do you doubt me?" - -"No." - -"But you do doubt it?" - -"Of course not." - -"Stay," he said, picking up an exercise-book full of sheets of paper, -"here it is." - -Thiers took it from him. - -"But what is this? You have given me blank sheets of paper, my dear -fellow!" - -Rabbe sprang like a tiger upon Thiers, and might, perhaps, in 1825, -have demolished the Minister of the First of March, had not Thiers -opened the book and showed him the pages as white as the dress worn by -M. Planard's shepherdess. Rabbe tore his hair with both hands. - -"Do you know what has happened to me?" he shouted. - -"No." - -"Someone has stolen the MS. of my _Sœur grise!_" - -"Oh! my God!" exclaimed Thiers, who did not want to vex him; "do you -know who is the thief?" - -"No ... stay, yes, indeed, I think I do ... it is Loëve-Weymars! He -shall perish by my own hand; I will send him my two seconds!" - -Loëve-Weymars was not in Paris. For upwards of a fortnight Rabbe -laboured under the delusion that he had written _La Sœur grise_ from -cover to cover, and that Loëve-Weymars was jealous of him and had -robbed him of his manuscript. - -When such petulant insults fell upon friends like Loëve-Weymars, -Thiers, Mignet, Armaud Carrel and Méry, it did not matter; but, when -they were directed at strangers less acquainted with Rabbe's follies, -affairs sometimes assumed a more tragic aspect. Thus, about this -period, he had two duels; one with Alexis Dumesnil, the other with -Coste; he received a sword-cut from both of these gentlemen; but these -wounds did not cure him of his passion for quarrelling. He used to say -that, in his youth, he had been very clever at handling the javelin; -unluckily, however, his adversaries always declined that weapon, -which refusal Rabbe, with his enthusiasm for antiquity, never could -understand. - -But if Rabbe admired antiquity madly, it was because he felt it -strongly; his piece, _Le Centaure_, is André Chénier in prose. Let us -give the proof of what we have been stating-- - - - THE CENTAUR - - "Swift as the west wind, amorous, superb, a young centaur - comes to carry off the beauteous Cymothoë from her old - husband. The impotent cries of the old man are heard - afar.... Proud of his prey, impotent with desire, the - ravisher stops beneath the deep shade of the banks of the - river. His flanks still palpitate from the swiftness of his - course; his breath comes hard and fast. He stops; his strong - legs bend under him; he stretches one forth and kneels with - agility on the other. He lovingly raises his beautiful prey - whom he holds trembling across his powerful thighs; he - takes her and presses her against his manly breast, sighs a - thousand sighs and covers her tear-dewed eyelids with kisses. - - "'Fear not,' he says to her, 'O Cymothoë! Be not terrified - of a lover who offers to thy charms the united quality of - both man and war-horse. Believe me! my heart is worth more - than that of a vile mortal who dwells in your towns. Tame my - wild independence; I will bear thee to the freshest rivers, - beneath the loveliest of shade; I will carry thee over the - green prairies, which are bathed by the Pene or patriarchal - Achelous. Seated on my broad back, with thy arms intertwined - in the rings of my black hair, thou canst entrust thy charms - to the gambols of the waves, without fear that a jealous - god will venture to seize thee to take thee to the depths of - his crystal grotto.... I love thee, O young Cymothoë! Drive - away thy tears; thou canst try thy power: thou hast me in - subjection!' - - "'Splendid monster!' replies the weeping Cymothoë, 'I am - struck with amazement. Thy accents are full of gentleness, - and thou speakest words of love! Why, thou talkest like - a man! Thy fearful caresses do not slay me! Tell me why! - But dost thou not hear the cries of Dryas, my old husband? - Centaur, fear for thy life! His kisses are like ice, but his - vengeance is cruel; his hounds are flying in thy tracks; his - slaves follow them; haste thee to fly and leave me!' - - "'I leave thee!' replies the Centaur. And he stifles a - plaintive murmur on the lips of his captive. 'I leave thee! - Where is the Pirithous, the Alcides who dare come to dispute - my conquest with me? Have I not my javelins? Have I not my - heavy club? Have I not my swift speed? Has not Neptune given - to the Centaur the impetuous strength of the storm?' - - "Then suddenly he bounded away full of courage, confidence - and happiness. Cymothoë balanced as if she was hung in a - moving net under these green vaults, or like as though borne - in a chariot of clouds by Zephyrus, henceforth rids herself - of her useless terrors and abandons herself to the raptures - of this strange lover. - - "Again he stops and she admires the way nature has delighted - to mate in him the lovely form of a horse with the majestic - features of a man. Intelligent thought animates his glance, - so proud and yet so gentle; beneath that broad breast dwells - a heart touched by her charms.... What a splendid slave to - Cymothoë and to love! - - "She soon stops looking; a burning blush covers her cheeks - and her eyelids droop; then, as her lover redoubles his - caresses, and unfastens her girdle-- - - "'Stay!' she says to him, 'stay, beauteous Centaur! Dost - thou not hear the fiery pack of hounds? Do not the arrows - whistle in thy ears.... I do not indeed hate thee; but leave - me! Leave me!' - - "But neither Dryas nor his hounds nor slaves come that way, - and those were not the reason of Cymothoë's fears. He, - smiling-- - - "'Calm thy fright; come, let us cross the river, and do not - dread the sacrifice we are about to offer to the-powerful - Venus on the other side!... Soon, alas! the forests will - see no more such nuptials. Our fathers have succumbed, - betrayed by the wedding of Thetis and Peleus; we are now few - in number, solitary, fugitive, not from man, weaker and less - noble than we, but before Death who pursues us. The laws of - a mysterious nature have thus decreed it; the reign of our - race is nearly over! - - "'This globe, deprived of the love of the gods who made - it, must grow old and the weak replace the strong; debased - mortals will have nothing but vain memories of the early - joys of the world. Thou art perhaps the last daughter of men - destined to be allied with our race; but thou wilt at least - have been the most beautiful and the happiest! Come!' - - "Thus speaks the man-horse, and replacing his delightsome - burden on his bare back, he runs to the river and rushes - into the midst of the waves, which sparkle round him in - diamond sheaves burning with the setting fire of a summer - sun. His eyes fixed on those of the beauty which intoxicates - him, he swims across the stream and is lost to sight in the - green depths which stretch from the other side to the foot - of the high mountains...." - -Is this not a genuine bit of antiquity without a modern touch in it, -like a bas-relief taken from the temple of Hercules at Thebes or of -Theseus at Athens? - - -[1] Do not let it be thought for one moment that it is in order to make -out any intimacy whatsoever with the two famous historians, whom I have -several times mentioned, that I say Thiers and Mignet; theirs are names -which have won the privilege of being presented to the public without -the banal title of _monsieur._ - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - - Adèle--Her devotion to Rabbe--Strong meat--_Appel à - Dieu_--_L'âme et la comédie humaine_--_La mort_--_Ultime - lettere_--Suicide_--À Alphonse Rabbe_, by Victor Hugo - - -We have been forgetful, more than forgetful, even ungrateful, in saying -that Rabbe's one and only consolation was his pipe; there was another. - -A young girl, named Adèle, spent three years with him; but those three -happy years only added fresh sorrows to Rabbe, for, soon, the beautiful -fresh girl drooped like a flower at whose roots a worm is gnawing; she -bowed her head, suffered for a year, then died. - -History has made much stir about certain devoted attachments; no -devotion could have been purer or more disinterested than the unnoticed -devotion of this young girl, all the more complete that she crowned it -with her death. - -A subject of this nature is either stated in three brief lines of bald -fact, or is extended over a couple of volumes as a psychological study. -Poor Adèle! We have but four lines, and the memory of your devotion to -offer you! Her death drove Rabbe to despair; from that time dates the -most abandoned period of his life. Rabbe found out not only that the -seeds of destruction were in him, but that they emanated from him. His -wails of despair from that moment became bitter and frequent; and his -thoughts turned incessantly towards suicide so that they might become -accustomed to the idea. Certain memoranda hung always in his sight; -he called them his _pain des forts_; they were, indeed, the spiritual -bread he fed himself on. - -We will give a few examples of his most remarkable thoughts from this -lugubrious diary:-- - - "The whole life of man is but one journey towards death." - - * - - "Man, from whence comes thy pride? It was a mistake for thee - to have been conceived; thy birth is a misfortune; thy life - a labour; thy death inevitable." - - * - - "Thou living corpse! When wilt thou return to the dust? - O solitude! O death! I have drunk deep of thy austere - delights. You are my loves! the only ones that are faithful - to me!" - - * - - "Every hour that passes by drives us towards the tomb and is - hastened by the advance of those that precede it." - - * - - "Bitter and cruel is the absence of God's face from me. How - much longer wilt Thou make me suffer?" - - * - - "Reflect in the morning that by night you may be no longer - here; and at night, that by morning you may have died." - - * - - "Sometimes there is a melancholy remembrance of the glorious - days of youth, of that happiness which never seems so great - or so bitter as when remembered in the days of misfortune; - at times, such collections confront the unfortunate wretch - whose aspirations are towards death. Then, his despair turns - to melancholy--almost even to hope." - - * - - "But these illusions of the beautiful days of youth pass and - vanish away! Oh! what bitterness fills my soul! Inexorable - nature, fate, destiny of providence give me back the cup - of life and of happiness! My lips had scarcely touched it - before you snatched it out of my trembling hands. Give me - back the cup! Give it back! I am consumed by burning thirst; - I have deceived myself; you have deceived me; I have never - drunk, I have never satisfied my thirst, for the liquid - evaporated like blue flame, which leaves behind it nothing - but the smell of sulphur and volcanoes." - - * - - "Lightning from heaven! Why dost thou not rather strike the - lofty tops of those oaks and fir trees whose robust old age - has already braved a hundred winters? They, at least, have - lived; and have satiated themselves with the sweets of the - earth!" - - * - - "I have been struck down in my prime; for nine years I have - been a prey, fighting against death.... Miserable wretch - why has not the hand of God which smote me annihilated me - altogether?" - -Then, in consequence of his pains, the soul of the unhappy Rabbe rises -to the level of prayer; he, the sceptic, loses faith in unbelief and -returns to God-- - - "O my God!" he exclaims in the solitudes of night, which - carries the plaint of his groans and tears to the ears of - his neighbours. "O my God! If Thou art just, Thou must have - a better world in store for us! O my God! Thou who knowest - all the thoughts that I bare here before Thee and the - remorse to which my scalding tears give expression; O my - God! if the groanings of an unfortunate soul are heard by - Thee, Thou must understand, O my God! the heart that Thou - didst give me, thou knowest the wishes it formed, and the - insatiable desires that still possess it. Oh! if afflictions - have broken it, if the absence of all consolation and - tenderness, if the most horrible solitude, have withered it, - O my God! help Thy wretched creature; give me faith in a - better world to come! Oh! may I find beyond the grave what - my soul, unrecognised and bewildered, has unceasingly craved - for on this earth...." - -Then God took pity on him. He did not restore his health or hope, his -youth, beauty and loves in this life; those three illusions vanished -all too soon: but God granted him the gift of tears. And he thanked -God for it. Towards the close of the year 1829, the disease made such -progress that Rabbe resolved he would not live to see the opening of -the year 1830. Thus, as he had addressed God, as he had addressed his -soul, so he now addresses death-- - - - DEATH - - "Thou diest! Thou hast reached the limit to which all things - comes at last; the end of thy miseries, the beginning of - thy happiness. Behold, death stands face to face with thee! - Thou wilt not longer be able to wish for, nor to dread it. - Pains and weakness of body, sad heart-searchings, piercing - spiritual anguish, devouring griefs, all are over! Thou wilt - never suffer them again; thou goest in peace to brave the - insolent pride of the successful evil-doer, the despising - of fools and the abortive pity of those who dare to style - themselves _good._ - - "The deprivation of many evils will not be an evil in - itself; I have seen thee chafing at thy bit, shaking the - humiliating chains of an adverse fate in despair; I have - often heard the distressing complaints which issued from - the depths of thy oppressed heart.... Thou art satisfied at - last. Haste thee to empty the cup of an unfortunate life, - and perish the vase from which thou wast compelled to drink - such bitter draughts. - - "But thou dost stop and tremble! Thou dost curse the - duration of thy suffering and yet dost dread and regret that - the end has come! Thou apprisest without reason or justice, - and dost lament equally both what things are and what they - cease to be. Listen, and think for one moment. - - "In dying, thou dost but follow the path thy forefathers - have trodden; thousands of generations before thee have - fallen into the abyss into which thou hast to descend; - many thousands will fall into it after thee. The cruel - vicissitude of life and death cannot be altered for thee - alone. Onward then towards thy journey's end, follow where - others have gone, and be not afraid of straying from it - or losing thyself when thou hast so many other travelling - companions. Let there be no signs of weakness, no tears! - The man who weeps over his own death is the vilest and - most despicable of all beings. Submit unmurmuringly to the - inevitable; thou must die, as thou hast had to live, without - will of thy own. Give back, therefore, without anxiety, thy - life which thou receivest unconsciously. Neither birth nor - death are in thy power. Rather rejoice, for thou art at - the beginning of an immortal dawn. Those who surround thy - deathbed, all those whom thou hast ever seen, of whom thou - hast heard speak or read, the small number of those thou - hast known especially well, the vast multitude of those who - have lived formerly or been born or are to be born in ages - to come throughout the world, all these have gone or will go - the road thou art going. Look with wise eyes upon the long - caravan of successive generations which have crossed the - deserts of life, fighting as they travel across the burning - sands for one drop of the water which inflames their thirst - more than it appeases it! Thou art swallowed up in the crowd - directly thou fallest: but look how many others are falling - too at the same time with thee! - - "Wouldst thou desire to live for ever? Wouldst thou only - wish thy life to last for a thousand years? Remember the - long hours of weariness in thy short career, thy frequent - fainting under the burden. Thou wast aghast at the limited - horizon of a short, uncertain and fugitive life: what - wouldst thou have said if thou hadst seen an immeasurable, - inevitably long future of weariness and sorrow stretch - before thy eyes! - - "O mortals! you weep over death, as though life were - something great and precious! And yet the vilest insects - that crawl share this rare treasure of life with you! All - march towards death because all yearn towards rest and - perfect peace. - - "Behold! the approach of the day that thou fain wouldst - have tried to bring nearer by thy prayers, if a jealous - fate had not deferred it; for which thou didst often sigh; - behold the moment which is to remove the capricious yoke - of fortune from the trammels of human society, from the - venomous attacks of thy fellow-creatures. Thou thinkest thou - wilt cease to exist and that thought torments thee.... Well, - but what proves to thee that thou wilt be annihilated? All - the ages have retained a hope in immortality. The belief in - a spiritual life was not merely a dogma of a few religious - creeds; it was the need and the cry of all nations that have - covered the face of the earth. The European, in the luxuries - of his capital towns, the aboriginal American-Indian under - his rude huts, both equally dream of an immortal state; all - cry to the tribunal of nature against the incompleteness of - this life. - - "If thou sufferest, it is well to die; if thou art happy - or thinkest thou art so, thou wilt gain by death since thy - illusion would not have lasted long. Thou passest from a - terrestrial habitation to a pure and celestial one. Why look - back when thy foot is upon the threshold of its portals? The - eternal distributor of good and evil, our Sovereign Master, - calls thee to Himself; it is by His desire thy prison flies - open; thy heavy chains are broken and thy exile is ended; - therefore rejoice! Thou wilt soar to the throne of thy King - and Saviour! - - "Ah! if thou art not shackled with the weight of some - unexpiated crime, thou wilt sing as thou diest; and, like - the Roman emperor, thou wilt rise up in thy agony at the - very thought, and thou wouldst die standing with eyes turned - towards the promised land! - - "O Saint Preux and Werther! O Jacob Ortis! how far were you - from reaching such heights as that! Orators even to the - death agony, your brains alone it is which lament; man in - his death throes, this actually dying creature, it is his - heart that groans, his flesh that cries out, his spirit - which doubts. Oh! how well one feels that all that hollow - philosophising does not reassure him as to the pain of - the supreme moment, and especially against that terror of - annihilation, which brought drops of sweat to the brow of - Hamlet! - - "One more cry--the last, then silence shall fall on him who - suffered much." - -Moreover, Alphonse Rabbe wished there to be no doubt of how he died; -hear this, his will, which he signed; there was to his mind no -dishonour in digging himself a grave with his own hands between those -of Cato of Utica and of Brutus-- - - - "31 _December_ 1829 - - "Like Ugo Foscolo, I must write my _ultime lettere._ If - every man who had thought and felt deeply could die before - the decline of his faculties from age, and leave behind him - his _philosophical testament_, that is to say, a profession - of faith bold and sincere, written upon the planks of his - coffin, there would be more truths recognised and saved from - the regions of foolishness and the contemptible opinion of - the vulgar. - - "I have other motives for executing this project. There - are in the world various interesting men who have been my - friends; I wish them to know how I ended my life. I desire - that even the indifferent, namely, the bulk of the general - public (to whom I shall be a subject of conversation for - about ten minutes--perhaps even that is an exaggerated - supposition), should know, however poor an opinion I have of - the majority of people, that I did not yield to cowardice, - but that the cup of my weariness was already filled, when - fresh wrongs came and overthrew it. I wish, in conclusion, - that my friends, those indifferent to me, and even my - enemies, should know that I have but exercised quietly and - with dignity the privilege that every man acquires from - nature--the right to dispose of himself as he likes. This is - the last thing that has interest for me this side the grave. - All my hopes lie beyond it ...if perchance there be anything - beyond." - -Thus, poor Rabbe, after all thy philosophy, sifted as fine as ripe -grain; after all thy philosophising; after many prayers to God and -dialogues with thy soul, and many conversations with death, these -supreme interlocutors have taught thee nothing and thy last thought is -a doubt! - -Rabbe had said he would not see the year 1830: and he died during the -night of the 31 December 1829. - -Now, how did he die? That gloomy mystery was kept locked in the hearts -of the last friends who were present with him. But one of his friends -told me that, the evening before his death, his sufferings were so -unendurable, that the doctor ordered an opium plaster to be put on the -sick man's chest. Next day, they hunted in vain for the opium plaster -but could not find it.... - -On 17 September 1835, Victor Hugo addresses these lines to him - - - À ALPHONSE RABBE - - _Mort le_ 31 _décembre_ 1829 - - "Hélas! que fais tu donc, ô Rabbe, ô mon ami, - Sévère historien dans la tombe endormi? - - Je l'ai pensé souvent dans les heures funèbres, - Seul, près de mon flambeau qui rayait les ténèbres, - O noble ami! pareil aux hommes d'autrefois, - Il manque parmi nous ta voix; ta forte voix, - Pleine de l'équité qui gonflait ta poitrine. - - Il nous manque ta main, qui grave et qui burine, - Dans ce siècle où par l'or les sages sont distraits, - Où l'idée est servante auprès des intérêts; - Temps de fruits avortés et de tiges rompues, - D'instincts dénaturés, de raisons corrompues, - Où, dans l'esprit humain tout étant dispersé, - Le présent au hasard flotte sur le passé! - - Si, parmi nous, ta tête était debout encore, - Cette cime où vibrait l'éloquence sonore, - Au milieu de nos flots tu serais calme et grand; - Tu serais comme un pont posé sur le courant. - Tu serais pour chacun la boix haute et sensée - Qui fait que, brouillard s'en va de la pensée, - Et que la vérité, qu'en vain nous repoussions, - Sort de l'amas confus des sombres visions! - - Tu dirais aux partis qu'ils font trop be poussière - Autour de la raison pour qu'on la voie entière; - Au peuple, que la loi du travail est sur tous, - Et qu'il est assez fort pour n'être pas jaloux; - Au pouvoir, que jamais le pouvoir ne se venge, - Et que, pour le penseur, c'est un spectacle étrange. - Et triste, quand la loi, figure au bras d'airain, - Déesse qui ne doit avoir qu'un front serein, - Sort, à de certains jours, de l'urne consulaire, - L'œil hagard, écumante et folle de colère! - - Et ces jeunes esprits, à qui tu souriais, - Et que leur âge livre aux rêves inquiets, - Tu leur dirais: Amis nés pour des temps prospères, - Oh! n'allez pas errer comme ont erré vos pères! - Laissez murir vos fronts! gardez-vous, jeunes gens, - Des systèmes dorés aux plumages changeants, - Qui, dans les carrefours, s'en vont faire la roue! - Et de ce qu'en vos cœurs l'Amérique secoue, - Peuple à peine essayé, nation de hasard, - Sans tige, sans passé, sans histoire et sans art! - Et de cette sagesse impie, envenimée, - Du cerveau de Voltaire éclose tout armée, - Fille de l'ignorance et de l'orgueil, posant - Les lois des anciens jours sur les mœurs d'à présent; - Qui refait un chaos partout où fut un monde; - Qui rudement enfoncé,--ô démence profonde! - Le casque étroit de Sparte au front du vieux Paris; - Qui, dans les temps passés, mal lus et mal compris, - Viole effrontément tout sage, pour lui faire - Un monstre qui serait la terreur de son père! - Si bien que les héros antiques tout tremblants - S'en sont voilé la face, et qu'après deux mille ans, - Par ses embrassements réveillé sous la pierre, - Lycurgue, qu'elle épouse, enfante Robespierre!" - - Tu nous dirais à tous: 'Ne vous endormez pas! - Veillez et soyez prêts! Car déjà, pas à pas, - La main de l'oiseleur dans l'ombre s'est glissée - Partout où chante un nid couvé par la pensée! - Car les plus nobles fronts sont vaincus ou sont las! - Car la Pologne, aux fers, ne peut plus même, hêlas! - Mordre le pied tartare appuyé sur sa gorge! - Car on voit, chaque jour, s'allonger dans la forge - La chaîne que les rois, craignant la liberté, - Font pour cette géante, endormie à côté! - Ne vous endormez pas! travaillez sans relâche! - Car les grands ont leur œuvre et les petits leur tâche; - Chacun a son ouvrage à faire, chacun met - Sa pierre à l'édifice encor loin du sommet-- - Qui croit avoir fini, pour un roi qu'on dépose, - Se trompe: un roi qui tombe est toujours peu de chose; - Il est plus difficile et c'est un plus grand poids - De relever les mœurs que d'abattre les rois. - Rien chez vous n'est complet: la ruine ou l'ébauche! - L'épi n'est pas formé que votre main le fauche! - Vous êtes encombrés de plans toujours rêvés - Et jamais accomplis ... Hommes, vous ne savez, - Tant vous connaissez peu ce qui convient aux âmes, - Que faire des enfants, ni que faire des femmes! - Où donc en êtes-vous? Vous vous applaudissez - Pour quelques blocs de lois au hasard entassés! - Ah! l'heure du repos pour aucun n'est venue; - Travaillez! vous cherchez une chose inconnue; - Vous n'avez pas de foi, vous n'avez pas d'amour; - Rien chez vous n'est encore éclairé du vrai jour! - Crépuscule et brouillards que vos plus clairs systèmes - Dans vos lois, dans vos mœurs et dans vos esprits - mêmes, - Partout l'aube blanchâtre ou le couchant vermeil! - Nulle part le midi! nulle part le soleil!' - - Tu parlerais ainsi dans des livres austères, - Comme parlaient jadis les anciens solitaires, - Comme parlent tous ceux devant qui l'on se tait, - Et l'on t'écouterait comme on les écoutait; - Et l'on viendrait vers toi, dans ce siècle plein d'ombre, - Où, chacun se heurtant aux obstacles sans nombre - Que, faute de lumière, on tâte avec la main, - Le conseil manque à l'âme, et le guide au chemin! - - Hélas! à chaque instant, des souffles de tempêtes - Amassent plus de brume et d'ombre sur nos têtes; - De moment en moment l'avenir s'assombrit. - Dans le calme du cœur, dans la paix de l'esprit, - Je l'adressais ces vers, où mon âme sereine - N'a laissé sur ta pierre écumer nulle haine, - À toi qui dors couché dans le tombeau profond, - À toi qui ne sais plus ce que les hommes font! - Je l'adressais ces vers, pleins de tristes présages; - Car c'est bien follement que nous nous croyons sages. - Le combat furieux recommence à gronder - Entre le droit de croître et le droit d'émonder; - La bataille où les lois attaquent les idées - Se mêle de nouveau sur des mers mal sondées; - Chacun se sent troublé comme l'eau sous le vent ... - Et moi-même, à cette heure, à mon foyer rêvant, - Voilà, depuis cinq ans qu'on oubliait Procuste, - Que j'entends aboyer, au seuil du drame auguste, - La censure à l'haleine immonde, aux ongles noirs, - Cette chienne au front has qui suit tous les pouvoirs, - Vile et mâchant toujours dans sa gueule souillée, - O muse! quelque pan de ta robe étoilée! - Hélas! que fais-tu donc, ô Rabbe, ô mon ami! - Sévère historien dans la tombe endormi?" - -If anything of poor Rabbe still survives, he will surely tremble with -joy in his tomb at this tribute. Indeed, few kings have had such an -epitaph! - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - - Chéron--His last compliments to Harel--Obituary of - 1830--My official visit on New Year's Day--A striking - costume--Read the _Moniteur_--Disbanding of the Artillery - of the National Guard--First representation of _Napoléon - Bonaparte_--Delaistre--Frédérick Lemaître - - -Meantime, throughout the course of that glorious year of 1830, death -had been gathering in a harvest of celebrated men. - -It had begun with Chéron, the author of _Tartufe de Mœurs._ We learnt -his death in a singular fashion. Harel thought of taking up the only -comedy that the good fellow had written, and had begun its rehearsals -the same time as _Christine._ They rehearsed Chéron's comedy at ten -in the morning and _Christine_ at noon. One morning, Chéron, who was -punctuality itself, was late. Harel had waited a little while, then -given orders to prepare the stage for _Christine._ Steinberg had not -got further than his tenth line, when a little fellow of twelve years -came from behind one of the wings and asked for M. Harel. - -"Here I am," said Harel, "what is it?" - -"M. Chéron presents his compliments to you," said the little man, "and -sends word that he cannot come to his rehearsal this morning." - -"Why not, my boy?" asked Harel. - -"Because he died last night," replied the little fellow. - -"Ah! diable!" exclaimed Harel; "in that case you must take back my best -compliments and tell him that I will attend his funeral to-morrow." - -That was the funeral oration the ex-government inspector to the -Théâtre-Français pronounced over him. - -I believe I have mentioned somewhere that Taylor succeeded Chéron. - -At the beginning of the year, on 15 February, Comte Marie de Chamans -de Lavalette had also died; he it was who, in 1815, was saved by the -devotion of his wife and of two Englishmen; one of whom, Sir Robert -Wilson, I met in 1846 when he was Governor of Gibraltar. Comte de -Lavalette lived fifteen years after his condemnation to death; caring -for his wife, in his turn, for she had gone insane from the terrible -anxiety she suffered in helping her husband to escape. - -On 11 March the obituary list was marked by the death of the -Marquis de Lally-Tollendal, whom I knew well: he was the son of the -Lally-Tollendal who was executed in the place de Grève as guilty of -peculation, upon whom it will be recollected Gilbert wrote lines that -were certainly some of his best. The poor Marquis de Lally-Tollendal -was always in trouble, but this did not prevent him from becoming -enormously stout. He weighed nearly three hundred pounds; Madame de -Staël called him "the fattest of sentient beings." - -Perhaps I have already said this somewhere. If so, I ask pardon for -repeating it. - -The same month Radet died, the doyen of vaudevillists. During the -latter years of his life he was afflicted with kleptomania, but his -friends never minded; if, after his departure they missed anything they -knew where to go and look for the missing article. - -Then, on 15 April, Hippolyte Bendo died. He was behindhand, for death, -who was out of breath with running after him, caught him up at the age -of one hundred and twenty-two. He had married again at one hundred and -one! - -Then, on 23 April, died the Chevalier Sue, father of Eugène Sue; he had -been honorary physician in chief to the household of King Charles X. -He was a man of great originality of mind and, at times, of singular -artlessness of expression; those who heard him give his course of -lectures on conchology will bear me out in this I am very sure. - -On 29 May that excellent man Jérôme Gohier passed away, of whom I -have spoken as an old friend of mine; and who could not forgive -Bonaparte for causing the events of 18 Brumaire, whilst he, Gohier, was -breakfasting with Josephine. - -On 29 June died good old M. Pieyre, former tutor and secretary to the -duc d'Orléans; author of _l'École des pères_; and the same who, with -old Bichet and M. de Parseval de Grandmaison, had shown such great -friendship to me and supported me to the utmost at the beginning of my -dramatic career. - -Then, on 29 July, a lady named Rosaria Pangallo died; she was born on 3 -August 1698, only four years after Voltaire, whom we thought belonged -to a past age, as he had died in 1778! The good lady was 132, ten years -older than her compatriot Hippolyte Bendo, of whom we spoke just now. - -On 28 August Martainville died, hero of the Pont du Pecq, whom we saw -fighting with M. Arnault over _Germanicus._ - -On 18 October Adam Weishaupt died, that famous leader of the Illuminati -whose ashes I was to revive eighteen years later in my romance _Joseph -Balsamo._ - -Then, on 30 November, Pius VIII. passed to his account; he was -succeeded by Gregory XVI., of whom I shall have much to say. - -On 17 December Marmontel's son died in New York, America, in hospital, -just as a real poet might have done. - -Then, on the 31st of the same month, the Comtesse de Genlis died, -that bogie of my childhood, whose appearances at the Château de -Villers-Hellon I related earlier in these Memoirs, and who, before -she died, had the sorrow of seeing the accession to the throne of her -pupil, badly treated by her, as a politician, in a letter which we -printed in our _Histoire de Louis-Philippe._ - -Finally, on the last night of the old year, the artillery came to -its end, killed by royal decree; and, as I had not heard of this -decree soon enough, it led me to make the absurd blunder I am about -to describe, which was probably among all the grievances King -Louis-Philippe believed he had against me the one that made him -cherish the bitterest rancour towards me. The reader will recollect the -resignation of one of our captains and my election to the rank thus -left vacant; he will further remember that, owing to the enthusiasm -which fired me at that period, I undertook the command of a manœuvre -the day but one after my appointment. This made the third change I -had had to make in my uniform in five months: first, mounted National -Guard; then, from that, to a gunner in the artillery; then, from a -private to a captain in the same arm of the service. In due course New -Year's day was approaching, and there had been a meeting to decide -whether we should pay a visit of etiquette to the king or not. In -order to avoid being placed upon the index for no good reason, it -was decided to go. Consequently, a rendezvous was made for the next -day, 1 January 1831, at nine in the morning, in the courtyard of the -Palais-Royal. Whereupon we separated. I do not remember what caused -me to lie in bed longer than usual that New Year's morning 1831; but, -to cut a long story short, when I looked at my watch, I saw that I -had only just time, if that, to dress and reach the Palais-Royal. I -summoned Joseph and, with his help, as nine o'clock was striking, I -flew down stairs four steps at a time from my third storey. I need -hardly say that, being in such a tremendous hurry, of course there was -no cab or carriage of any description to be had. Thus, I reached the -courtyard of the Palais-Royal by a quarter past nine. It was crowded -with officers waiting their turn to present their collective New Year's -congratulations to the King of the French; but, in the midst of all the -various uniforms, that of the artillery was conspicuous by its absence. -I glanced at the clock, and seeing that I was a quarter of an hour -late, I thought the artillery had already taken up its position and -that I should be able to join it either on the staircases or in one of -the apartments. I rushed quickly up the State stairway and reached the -great audience chamber. Not a sign of any artillerymen! I thought that, -like Victor Hugo's kettle-drummers, the artillerymen must have passed -and I decided to go in alone. - -Had I not been so preoccupied with my unpunctuality, I should have -remarked the strange looks people cast at me all round; but I saw -nothing, thanks to my absent-mindedness, except that the group of -officers, with whom I intermingled to enter the king's chamber, made -a movement from centre to circumference, which left me as completely -isolated as though I was suspected of bringing infection of cholera, -which was beginning to be talked about in Paris. I attributed this act -of repulsion to the part the artillery had played during the recent -disturbances, and as I, for my part, was quite ready to answer for -the responsibility of my own actions, I went in with my head held -high. I should say, that out of the score of officers who formed -the group I had honoured with my presence, I seemed to be the only -one who attracted the attention of the king; he even gazed at me -with such surprise that I looked around to find the cause of this -incomprehensible stare. Among those present some put on a scornful -smile, others seemed alarmed; and the expression of others, again, -seemed to say: "Seigneur; pardon us for having come in with that man!" -The whole thing was inexplicable to me. I went up to the king, who was -so good as to speak to me. - -"Ah! good day, Dumas!" he said to me; "that's just like you! I -recognise you well enough! It is just like you to come!" - -I looked at the king and, for the life of me, I could not tell what he -was alluding to. Then, as he began laughing, and all the good courtiers -round imitated his example, I smiled in company with everybody else, -and went on my way. In the next room where my steps led me I found -Vatout, Oudard, Appert, Tallencourt, Casimir Delavigne and a host of -my old comrades. They had seen me through the half-open door and they, -too, were all laughing. This universal hilarity began to confuse me. - -"Ah!" said Vatout. "Well, you have a nerve, my friend!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Why, you have just paid the king a New Year's visit in a dress of -_dissous_." - -By _dissous_ understand _dix sous_ (ten sous). - -Vatout was an inveterate punster. - -"I do not understand you," I said, very seriously. - -"Come now," he said. "You aren't surely going to try to make us believe -that you did not know the king's order!" - -"What order?" - -"The disbandment of the artillery, of course!" - -"What! the artillery is disbanded?" - -"Why, it is in black and white in the _Moniteur!_" - -"You are joking. Do I ever read the _Moniteur?_" - -"You are right to say that." - -"But, by Jove! I say it because it is true!" - -They all began laughing again. - -I will acknowledge that, by this time, I was dreadfully angry; I had -done a thing that, if considered in the light of an act of bravado, -might indeed be regarded as a very grave impertinence, and one in which -I, least of any person, had no right to indulge towards the king. I -went down the staircase as quickly as I had gone up it, ran to the café -_du Roi,_ and asked for the _Moniteur_ with a ferocity that astonished -the frequenters of the café. They had to send out and borrow one from -the café _Minerve._ The order was in a prominent position; it was -short, but explicit, and in these simple words-- - - "LOUIS-PHILIPPE, KING OF THE FRENCH,--To all, now and - hereafter, Greeting. Upon the report of our Minister, the - Secretary of State for Home Affairs, we have ordained and do - ordain as follows:-- - - "ARTICLE I.--The corps of artillery of the National Guard of - Paris is disbanded. - - "ARTICLE 2.--Proceedings for the reorganisation of that - corps shall begin immediately. - - "ARTICLE 3.--A commission shall be appointed to proceed with - that reorganisation." - -After seeing this official document I could have no further doubts upon -the subject. I went home, stripped myself of my seditious clothing, -put on the dress of ordinary folk, and went off to the Odéon for my -rehearsal of _Napoléon Bonaparte_, which was announced for its first -production the next day. As I came away after the rehearsal, I met -three or four of my artillery comrades, who congratulated me warmly. -My adventure had already spread all over Paris; some-thought it a joke -in the worst possible taste, others thought my action heroic. But none -of them would believe the truth that it was done through ignorance. -To this act of mine I owed being made later a member of the committee -to consider the national pensions lists, of the Polish committee and -of that for deciding the distribution of honours to those who took -conspicuous part in the July Revolution, and of being re-elected as -lieutenant in the new artillery,--honours which naturally led to my -taking part in the actions of 5 June 1832, and being obliged to spend -three months' absence in Switzerland and two in Italy. - -But, in the meantime, as I have said, _Napoléon_ was to be acted on -the following day, a literary event that was little calculated to -restore me to the king's political good books. This time, the poor -duc d'Orléans did _not_ come and ask me to intercede with his father -to be allowed to go to the Odéon. _Napoléon_ was a success, but only -from pure chance: its literary value was pretty nearly nil. The rôle -of the spy was the only real original creation; all the rest was done -with paste and scissors. There was some hissing amongst the applause, -and (a rare thing with an author) I was almost of the opinion of those -who hissed. But the expenses, with Frédérick playing the principal -part, and Lockroy and Stockleit the secondary ones; with costumes -and decorations and the burning of the Kremlin, and the retreat of -Bérésina, and especially the passion of five years at Saint Helena, -amounting to a hundred thousand francs; how could it, with all this, -have been anything but a success? Delaistre acted the part of Hudson -Lowe. I remember they were obliged to send the theatre attendants -back with him each night to keep him from being stoned on his way -home. The honours of the first night belonged by right to Frédérick -far more than to me. Frédérick had just begun to make his fine and -great reputation, a reputation conscientiously earned and well -deserved. He had made his first appearances at the Cirque; then, as -we have stated, he came to act at the Odéon, in the part of one of -the brothers in _Les Macchabées_, by M. Guiraud; he next returned to -the Ambigu, where he created the parts of Cartouche and of Cardillac, -and, subsequently, he went to the Porte-Saint-Martin, where his name -had become famous by his Méphistophélès, Marat and Le Joueur. He was -a privileged actor, after the style of Kean, full of defects, but as -full, also, of fine qualities; he was a genius in parts requiring -violence, strength, anger, sarcasm, caprice or buffoonery. At the same -time, in summing up the gifts of this eminent actor, it is useless -to expect of him attributes that Bocage possessed in such characters -as the man _Antony_, and in _La Tour de Nesle._ Bocage and Frédérick -combined gave us the qualities that Talma, in his prime, gave us by -himself. Frédérick finally returned to the Odéon, where he played -le Duresnel in _La Mère et la Fille_ most wonderfully; and where he -next played _Napoléon._ But Frédérick's great dramatic talents do not -stand out most conspicuously in the part of _Napoléon._ To speak of -him adequately, we must dwell upon his _Richard Darlington_, _Lucrèce -Borgia, Kean_ and _Buy Bias._ - -In this manner did I stride across the invisible abyss that divided one -year from another, and passed from the year 1830 to that of 1831, which -brought me insensibly to my twenty-ninth year. - - - - -BOOK II - - - - -CHAPTER I - - - The Abbé Châtel--The programme of his church--The Curé of - Lèves and M. Clausel de Montais--The Lévois embrace the - religion of the primate of the Gauls--Mass in French--The - Roman curé--A dead body to inter - - -A triple movement of a very remarkable character arose at this -time: political, literary and social. It seemed as though after the -Revolution of 1793, which had shaken, overturned and destroyed things -generally, society grew frightened and exerted all its strength upon a -general reorganisation. This reconstruction, it is true, was more like -that of the Tower of Babel than of Solomon's Temple. We have spoken -about the literary builders and of the political too; now let us say -something about the social and religious reconstructors. - -The first to show signs of existence was the Abbé Châtel. - -On 20 February 1831, the French Catholic Church, situated in the -Boulevard Saint-Denis opened with this programme-- - - "The ecclesiastic authorities who constitute the French - Catholic Church propose, among other reforms, to celebrate - all its religious ceremonies, as soon as circumstances - will allow, in the popular tongue. The ministers of this - new church exercise the offices of their ministry without - imposing any remuneration. The offertory is entirely - voluntary; people need not even feel obliged to pay for - their seats. No collection of any kind will disturb the - meditation of the faithful during the holy offices. - - "We do not recognise any other impediments to marriage than - those which are set forth by the civil law. Consequently, - we will bestow the nuptial benediction on all those who - shall present themselves to us provided with a certificate, - proving the marriage to have taken place at the _mairie_, - even in the case of one of the contracting parties being of - the reformed or other religious sect." - -I need hardly say that the Abbé Châtel was excommunicated, put on the -index and pronounced a heretic. But he continued saying mass in French -all the same, and marrying after the civil code and not after the -canons of the Church, and not charging anything for his seats. In spite -of the advantages the new order of religious procedure offered, I do -not know that it made great progress in Paris. As for its growth in the -provinces, I presume it was restricted, or partially so, to one case -that I witnessed towards the beginning of 1833. - -I was at Levéville, staying at the château of my dear and excellent -friend, Auguste Barthélemy, one of those inheritors of an income of -thirty thousand francs, who would have created a revolution in society -in 1852, if society had not in 1851 been miraculously saved by the -_coup d'état_ of 2 December 1851, when news was brought to us that the -village of Lèves was in a state of open revolution. This village stands -like an outpost on the road from Chartres to Paris and to Dreux; so -much for its topography. Now, it had the reputation of being one of the -most peaceful villages in the whole of the Chartrian countryside, so -much for its morality. What unforeseen event could therefore have upset -the village of Lèves? This was what had happened-- - -Lèves possessed that rare article, a curé it adored! He was a fine and -estimable priest of about forty years of age, a _bon vivant_, giving -men handshakes that made them yell with pain; chucking maidens under -their chins till they blushed again; on Sundays being present at the -dances with his cassock tucked up into his girdle; which permitted of -the display, like Mademoiselle Duchesnois in Alzire, of a well-turned -sturdy leg; urging his parishioners to shake off the cares of the week, -to the sound of the violin and clarionet; pledging a health with the -deepest of the drinkers, and playing piquet with great proficiency. -He was called Abbé Ledru, a fine name which, like those of the first -kings of France, seemed to be derived both from his physical and mental -qualities. All these qualities (to which should be added the absence of -the orthodox niece) were extremely congenial to the natives of Lèves, -but were not so fortunate as to be properly appreciated by the Bishop -of Chartres, M. Clausel de Montais. True, the absence of a niece, -which the Abbé Ledru viewed in the light of an advantage, could prove -absolutely nothing, or, rather, it proved this--that the Abbé Ledru had -never regarded the tithes as seriously abolished, and, consequently, -exacted toll with all the goodwill in the world from his parishioners, -or, to speak more accurately, from his female parishioners. M. Clausel -de Montais was then, as he is still, one of the strictest prelates -among the French clergy; only, now he is twenty years older than he -was then, which fact has not tended to soften his rigidness. When -Monseigneur de Montais heard rumours, whether true or false, he -immediately recalled the Abbé Ledru without asking the opinion of the -inhabitants of Lèves, or warning a soul. If a thunderbolt had fallen -upon the village of Lèves out of a cloudless sky it could not have -produced a more unlooked-for sensation. The husbands cried at the top -of their voices that they would keep their curé, the wives cried out -even louder than their husbands and the daughters exclaimed loudest of -all. The inhabitants of Lèves rose up together and gathered in front -of their bereft church; they counted up their numbers, men, women and -children; altogether there were between eleven and twelve hundred -souls. They dispatched a deputation of four hundred to M. Clausel de -Montais. It comprised all the men of between twenty and sixty in the -village. The deputation set out; it looked like a small army, except -that it was without drums or swords or rifles. Those who had sticks -laid them against the town doors lest the sight of them should frighten -Monseigneur, the bishop. The deputies presented themselves at the -bishop's palace and were shown in. They laid the object of their visit -before the prelate and insistently demanded the reinstatement of the -Curé Ledru. M. Clausel de Montais replied after the fashion of Sylla-- - -"I can at times alter my plans--but my decrees are like those of fate, -unalterable!" - -They entreated and implored--it was useless! - -What was the origin of M. de Montal's hatred towards the poor Abbé -Ledru? We will explain it, since these Memoirs were written with the -intention of searching to the bottom of things and of laying bare the -trifling causes that bring about great results. The Abbé Ledru had -subscribed towards those who were wounded during July; he had made a -collection in favour of the Poles; he had dressed the drummer of the -National Guards of his commune out of his own pocket; in brief, the -Abbé Ledru was a patriot; whilst M. de Montals, on the contrary, was -not merely an ardent partisan, but also a great friend, of Charles X., -and, according to report, one of the instigators of the Ordinances of -July. It will be imagined that, after this, the diocese was not large -enough to hold both the bishop and the curé within its boundaries. The -lesser one had to give in. M. de Montals planted his episcopal sandal -upon the Abbé Ledru and crushed him mercilessly! - -The deputies returned to those who had sent them. As the Curé Ledru -was enjoined to leave the presbytery immediately, a rich farmer in the -district offered him a lodging and the church was closed. But, although -the church was shut up, the need was still felt for some sort of -religion. Now, as the peasantry of Lèves were not very particular as to -the sort of religion they had, provided they had something, they made -inquiries of the Abbé Ledru if there existed among the many religions -of the various peoples of the earth one which would allow them to -dispense with M. Clausel de Montals. The Abbé Ledru replied that there -was that form of religion practised by the Abbé Châtel, and asked his -parishioners if that would suit them. They found it possessed one -great advantage in that they could follow the liturgy, which hitherto -they had never done, as it was said, in French instead of Latin. The -inhabitants of Lèves pronounced with one common voice, that it was not -so much the religion they clung to, as the priest, and that they would -be delighted to understand what had hitherto been incomprehensible -to them. The Abbé Ledru went to Paris to take a few lessons of the -leader of the French church, and, when sufficiently initiated into the -new form of religion, he returned to Lèves. His return was made the -occasion of a triumphant fête! A splendid barn just opposite their -old Roman church, which had been closed more out of the scorn of the -Lévois than because of the bishop's anger, was placed at his service -and transformed into a place of worship. Everyone, as for the temporary -altars at the fête of Corpus Christi, brought his share of adornment; -some the covering for the Holy Table, some altar candles, some the -crucifix or the ciborium; the carpenter put up the benches; the glazier -put glass into the windows; the river supplied the lustral water and -all was ready by the following Sunday. - -I have already mentioned that we were staying at the Château de -Levéville. I did not know the Abbé Châtel and was ignorant of his -religious theories; so I thought it a good opportunity for initiating -myself into the doctrine of the primate of the Gauls. I therefore -suggested to Barthélemy that we should go and hear the Châtellaisian -mass; he agreed and we set off. It was somewhat more tedious than in -Latin, as one was almost obliged to listen. But that was the only -difference we could discover between the two forms. Of course we were -not the only persons in the neighbourhood of Chartres who had been -informed of the schism that had broken out between the Church of -Lèves and the Holy Roman Catholic and Apostolic Church; M. de Montals -was perfectly acquainted with what was going on, and had hoped there -would be some scandal during the mass for him to carp at: but the mass -was celebrated without scandal, and the village of Lèves, which had -listened to the whole of the divine office, left the barn quite as much -edified as though leaving a proper church. - -But the result was fatal; the example might become infectious--people -were strongly inclined towards Voltairism in 1830. The bishop was -seized with great anger and, still more, with holy terror. What would -happen if all the flock followed the footsteps of the erring sheep? -The bishop would be left by himself alone, and his episcopal crook -would become useless. A _Roman_ priest must at once be supplied to the -parish of Lèves, who could combat the _French_ curé with whom it had -provided itself. The news of this decision reached the Lévois, who -again assembled together and vowed to hang the priest, no matter who he -was, who should come forward to enter upon the reversion of the office -of the Abbé Ledru. An event soon happened which afforded the bishop tip -opportunity of putting his plan into execution, and for the Lievois to -keep their vow. A Lèves peasant died. This peasant, in spite-of M. de -Montal's declaration, had, before he died, asked for the presence of -a Catholic priest, which consolation had been refused him; but, as he -was not yet buried, the bishop decided that, as compensation, he should -be interred with the full rites of the Latin Church. This happened -on Monday, 13 March 1833. On the 14th, Monseigneur, the Bishop of -Chartres, despatched to Lèves a curate of his cathedral named the Abbé -Duval. The choice was a good one and suitable under the circumstances. -The Abbé Duval was by no means one of that timid class of men who are -soon made anxious and frightened by the least thing; he was, on the -contrary, a man of energetic character with a fine carriage, whose tall -figure was quite as well adapted to the wearing of the cuirass of a -carabinier as of a priest's cassock. So the Abbé Duval started on his -journey. He was not in entire ignorance of the dangers he was about to -incur; but he was unconscious of the fact that no missionary entering -any Chinese or Thibetan town had ever been so near to martyrdom. The -report of the Roman priest's arrival soon spread through the village of -Lèves. Everybody at once retired into his house and shut his doors and -windows. The poor abbé might at first have imagined that he had been -given the cure of a city of the dead like Herculaneum or Pompeii. But, -when he reached the centre of the village, he saw that all the doors -opened surreptitiously and the windows were slily raised a little; and -in a minute he and the mayor, who accompanied him, were surrounded by -about thirty peasants who called upon him to go back. We must do the -mayor and abbé the justice to say that they tried to offer resistance; -but, at the end of a quarter of an hour, the cries became so furious -and the threats so terrible, that the mayor took the advantage of being -within reach of his house to slink away and shut the door behind him, -abandoning the Abbé Duval to his unhappy fate. It was extremely mean on -the part of the mayor, but what can one expect! Every magistrate is not -a Bailly, just as every president is not a Boissy-d'Anglais--consult, -rather, M. Sauzet, M. Buchez and M. Dupin! Luckily for the poor abbé, -at this critical moment a member of the council of the préfecture who -was well known and much respected by the inhabitants of Lèves passed by -in his carriage, inquired the cause of the uproar, pronounced in favour -of the abbé, took possession of him and drove him back to Chartres. - -Meanwhile the dead man waited on! - - - - -CHAPTER II - - - Fine example of religious toleration--The Abbé Dallier--The - Circes of Lèves--Waterloo after Leipzig--The Abbé Dallier is - kept as hostage--The barricades--The stones of Chartres--The - outlook--Preparations for fighting - - -Although the Lévois had liberated their prisoner, they realised, none -the less, that war was declared; threats and coarse words had been -hurled at the bishop's head, but they knew his grace's character too -well to expect that he would consider himself defeated. That did not -matter, though! They had made up their minds to push their faith in -the new religion to the extreme test of martyrdom, if need be! In the -meantime, as there was nothing better to do, they proposed to get rid -of the dead man, the innocent cause of all this rumpus. He had, it -was said, abjured the Abbé Ledru with his last breath; but it was not -an assured fact and the report might even have been set about by the -bishop! moreover, new forms of religion are tolerant: the Abbé Ledru -knew that he must lay the foundations of his on the side of leniency; -he forgave the dead man his momentary defection, supposing he had one, -said a French mass for him and buried him according to the rites of -the Abbé Châtel! Alas! the poor dead man seemed quite indifferent to -the tongue in which they intoned mass over him and the manner in which -they buried him! They waited from 24 March until 29 April--nearly six -weeks--before receiving any fresh attack from high quarters, and before -the bishop showed any signs of his existence. The Abbé Ledru continued -to say mass, and the Lévois thought they were fully authorised to -follow the rite that suited them best for the good of their souls. - -But Sunday, 29 April, came at last, the date which the bishop and -préfet had fixed for the re-opening of the Roman Church and the -installation of a new priest. In the morning, a squadron of the 4th -regiment of rifles and a half section of the gendarmerie came and -took up their position in front of the church. An hour later than the -soldiers, the Préfet of Rigny arrived, also the commander-general of -the department and the chief of the gendarmerie. They brought with them -a new abbé, Abbé Dallier. This priest came supported by a respectable -body of armed force to reinstate the true God in the church. Things -began to wear the look of a parody from the _Lutrin._ Notwithstanding -all this, the whole of the population of Lèves had gradually collected -in the street that we will call La rue des Grands-Prés, although -I am very much afraid that we are really its spouses. To prevent -the re-opening of the Latin Church, the women, who were even more -bitter than the men against the re-opening, had crowded themselves -together under the porch. The préfet tried to break through their -ranks, followed by a locksmith; for the Lévois threw the keys of the -church into the river when the Abbé Duval arrived. As the locksmith -possessed no claims of an administrative nature, it was to him they -addressed their outcries and threats. These rose to such a swelling -diapason that the poor devil took fright and fled. It will be seen -that the protection of the préfet only half assured him. The example -proved contagious: for, whether the préfet in his turn gave way to -fright at these cries, whether, without the locksmith, any attempts -to open the church doors were useless, he too beat a retreat. It is -true, however, that they had just told him that the riflemen--seduced -by the blandishments of the women of Lèves, as the King of Ithaca's -companions were by the witchcraft of Circe--had forgotten themselves -so far before the arrival of the authorities above mentioned, as to -shout: "Vive l'Abbé Ledru!" "Vive l'Église française!" It was rather a -seditious cry, at a period when the army neither voted nor deliberated! -Whatever the cause, the préfet, as we have said, beat a retreat. Just -at this moment the Abbé Ledru appeared at the door of his barn. Four -women at once constituted themselves as alms-collectors, using their -outstretched aprons as alms-boxes. The total of the four collections -was employed in the purchase of eau-de-vie for the soldiers. Was it -the Abbé Ledru who gave such corrupt advice? or was it, indeed, the -alms-collectors' own idea? Woman is ever deceitful and the devil sly! -The soldiers, after shouting "Vive l'Abbé Ledru!" drank to that abbé's -health and to the supremacy of the French Church--this was, indeed, -a serious thing! If he had known how to take advantage of the frame -of mind the soldiers were in, the Abbé Ledru would have been equal -to laying siege to Rome, as did the Constable of Bourbon. But his -ambition, probably, fell short of this and he did not even make the -suggestion. - -Meanwhile, the préfet, the general-commander of the department and -the chief of the gendarmerie were debating at the mairie as to the -action they should take. The officers of the riflemen felt that their -men were almost escaping from their control: the squadron threatened -to appoint the primate of the Gauls as its chaplain, and to proclaim -that, if the Roman Catholic religion was the ritual of the State the -French form should be that of the Army. It was decided to send for the -king's attorney, who was supposed to have a shrewd head. He arrived -an hour later with two deputies and a judge. The squadron of riflemen -continued drinking the health of the Abbé Ledru and to the supremacy -of the French Church. Reinforced by four magistrates, the préfet, -commander-general of the department and chief of the gendarmerie took -their way to the rue des Grands-Prés. The street was now literally -packed. They meant to make a second attempt upon the church. They had -reckoned that this body of military dignitaries, civil and magisterial, -would have an awe-inspiring effect on the crowd. Bah! the people only -began shouting at the top of their voices-- - -"Down with the Carlists!" "Down with the Jesuits!" - -"Down with the bishop!" ... "Long live the King and the French Church!" - -The préfet tried to speak, the king's attorney tried to demand, the -deputies tried threats, the judge to open the code, the general -tried to draw his sword, the chief of the gendarmerie attempted to -flourish his sabre; but every one of their efforts were frustrated and -drowned in the singing of _La Parisienne_ and _La Marseillaise._ These -gentlemen had a good mind to make the call to arms, but the attitude -of the troop was too doubtful for them to risk the chance. The préfet -withdrew a second time, followed by the general, chief of gendarmerie, -king's attorney, deputies and the judge. It was a case of Waterloo -after Leipzig! A minute later, the troop received orders to quit the -rue des Grands-Prés; and, as there was nothing hostile against the -population in such an order, the troop obeyed. Soldiers and inhabitants -embraced and fraternised and drank together for the third time, -then separated. The Lévois believed that the préfet had definitely -renounced the idea of opening the church; but their delusion was not -of long duration. News came to them that an orderly had been sent off -to Chartres, charged with the commission of bringing back another -squadron of rifles and all the reinforcements they could possibly -muster. Whereupon the cry of "To arms!" was set up. At this war cry, -a man in a cassock attempted to fly--it was the Abbé Dallier, who had -been completely forgotten by the préfet, general, chief of gendarmerie, -king's attorney, the two deputies and the judge, in their precipitation -to beat a retreat! The poor abbé was caught by his cassock and made -prisoner and shut up in a cellar, while they announced to him, through -the grating, that he was to be kept as hostage and that if the -slightest injury happened to any inhabitant of the village commune, the -penalty of retaliation would be applied to him in full force. They next -began to construct barricades at each end of the rue des Grands-Prés, -where stood, as we know, both the Latin and French churches. For the -material wherewith to build these barricades, which rose up as quick -as thought, a wooden shoemaker gave three or four beams, a carter -brought two or three waggons, the schoolmaster took his desks and -the inhabitants made an offering of their shutters. The street lads -collected heaps of stones. - -I do not know whether my readers are acquainted with the Chartres -stones; they are pretty ones that vary from the size of a pigeon's egg -to that of an ostrich, and when broken, either by art or nature, they -show an edge as sharp as that of a razor. Chartres is partly paved with -these stones, and the paviors are usually careful to place the sharp -edges upwards so that the pedestrian's boots may come in contact with -them; which makes one think with some justification that the worthy -guild of shoemakers must give the paviors a consideration. One of -my friends, Noël Parfait, a true Chartrian, and jealous, as are all -true-hearted patriots, of the honour of his country, maintains that -Chartres was once a seaport, and that these stones are clearly the -shingle that the ocean swell threw up on the beach in former times. In -an hour's time, there was enough ammunition behind each barricade to -hold a siege for eight days. Projectiles, also, grew under the hands, -or rather, the feet, of the providers. One individual climbed the -church tower, to watch the Chartres road in order to sound the alarm -as soon as the troop appeared in sight. The Abbé Ledru blessed the -fighters, and invoked the God of armies in French; then they waited, -ready for anything that might happen. All these preparations had been -made in sight of the riflemen and gendarmes who, withdrawn to the -Grand-Rue, looked on at all these preparations for fighting without -protest. Truly, the wretched fellows were won over to heresy. - -Ten minutes after the finishing of the barricades, the alarm bell -sounded. It signified that troops had left Chartres. These troops -were preceded by a locksmith, who was brought under the escort of two -gendarmes; but the man was so railed at by the Abbé Ledru's fierce -sectaries, as soon as the first houses in Lèves were reached, that -he took advantage of a momentary hesitation on the part of the two -gendarmes to slip between the legs of the one on his right, reach a -garden and disappear into the fields! This was the second locksmith -that melted away out of the clutch of authority. It reminds one of -those rearguards of the army of Russia which slipped through Ney's -hands! The new troops came on the scene full of alacrity. Care was -taken that they did not come into contact with the disaffected -squadron, and they decided to take the barricades by main force. But, -at the same time, about thirty Chartrain patriots hurried up to the -assistance of the insurgents--amateurs, desirous of taking their part -in the dangers of their brothers of Lèves. They were greeted with -shouts of joy; _La Parisienne_ and _La Marseillaise_ were thundered -forth more loudly, and the tocsin rang more wildly than ever! The -préfet and the general headed the riflemen, and the force marched up to -the barricade. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - - Attack of the barricade--A sequel to Malplaquet--The - Grenadier--The Chartrian philanthropists--Sack of the - bishop's palace--A fancy dress--How order was restored--The - culprits both small and great--Death of the Abbé - Ledru--Scruples of conscience of the former schismatics--The - _Dies iræ_ of Kosciusko - - -At this period it was still usual to summon the insurgents to withdraw, -and this the préfet did. They responded by a hailstorm of stones, -one of them hitting the general. This time, he lost all patience and -shouted-- - -"Forward!" and the men charged the barricade sword in hand. The Lévois -made a splendid resistance, but a dozen or more riflemen managed to -clear the obstacle; however, when they reached the other side of the -barricade, they were overwhelmed with stones, thrown down and disarmed. -Blood had flowed on both sides; and temper was roused to boiling point; -it would have gone badly with the dozen prisoners if some men, who were -either less heated or more prudent than the rest, had not carried them -off and thus saved their lives. Let us confess, with no desire whatever -of casting a slur on the army, which we would uphold at all times, and, -nowadays, more than ever, that, from that moment, every attempt of the -riflemen to take the barricade failed! But what else can be said? It -is a matter of history; as are Poitiers, Agincourt and Malplaquet! A -shower of stones fell, compared with which the one that annihilated the -Amalekites was but an April shower. - -The préfet and the general finally decided to give up the enterprise; -they sounded the retreat and took their road back to Chartres. As the -insurgents did not know what to do with their prisoners, and being -afraid of a siege, and not having any desire to burden themselves with -useless mouths, the riflemen were released on parole. They could not -believe in the retreat of the troops; it was in vain the watchmen in -the tower shouted, "Victory!" The conviction did not really take hold -of the minds of the Lévois until their look-out declared that the -last soldier had entered Chartres. Such being the case, it was but -one step to turn from doubt to boldness: they began by giving aid to -the wounded; then, as no signs of any uniforms reappeared upon the -high road, by degrees they grew bolder, until they arrived at such a -pitch of enthusiasm that one of the insurgents, having ventured the -suggestion that they should march the Abbé Dallier round the walls -of Chartres, as Achilles had led Hector round the walls of Pergamus, -the proposition was received with acclamation. But, as the vanquished -man was alive and not dead, they put a rope round his neck instead of -round his ankles and the other end was placed in the hands of one of -the Abbé Ledru's most excited penitents, who went by the name of the -_Grenadier._ I need hardly add that the penitent's name was, like that -of the Abbé Ledru, conspicuous for the physical and moral qualities of -a virago. Every man filled his pockets with stones in readiness for -attack or defence, and the folk set out for Chartres, escorting the -condemned man, who marched towards martyrdom with visible distaste. -It is half a league between Lèves and Chartres; and that half league -was a real Via Dolorosa to the poor priest. The Lévois had calculated -to perfection what they were doing when they gave the rope's end to -the care of the Grenadier. When the savages of Florida wish to inflict -extreme punishment on any of their prisoners they hand the criminals -over to the women and children. When the victors reached Chartres, -they did not find the opposition they had looked for; but they found -something else equally unexpected: they saw neither préfet, nor -general, nor chief of the gendarmerie, nor king's attorney, neither -deputies nor judges; but several philanthropists approached them and -made them listen to what was styled, at the end of last century, the -language of reason-- - -It was not the poor priest's fault that he had been selected by the -bishop to replace the Abbé Ledru; he did not know in what esteem his -parishioners held him, he was neither more nor less blameworthy than -his predecessor, the Abbé Duval; and when the one had come to a flock -of sheep, why should another priest fall among a band of tigers? It was -the fault of the bishop, who had instantly and brutally deposed the -Abbé Ledru, and then had the audacity to appoint first one and then -another successor! - -Upon this very reasonable discourse, the scales fell from the eyes of -the inhabitants of Lèves, as from Saint Paul's, and they began to see -things in their true light. The effect of their enlightenment was to -make them untie the rope and to let the Abbé Dallier go free with many -apologies. But, at the same time, it was unanimously agreed that, since -there was a rope all ready, the bishop should be hanged with it. - -When people conceive such brilliant ideas, they lose no time in -putting them into execution. So they directed their steps rapidly in -the direction of M. Clausel de Montal's sumptuous dwelling-place. But -although these avenging spirits had made all diligence, M. Clausel -de Montais had made still greater; to such an extent that, when the -hangmen arrived at the bishop's palace, they could nowhere find him -whom they had come to hang: Monseigneur the bishop had departed, -and with very good reason too! We know what happens under such -circumstances; things pay for men, and the bishop's palace had to pay -instead of the bishop. This was the era of sacrilege; the sacking -of the palace of the Archbishop of Paris had set the fashion of the -destruction of religious houses. They broke the window panes and -the mirrors over the mantelpieces, they tore down the curtains, and -transformed them into banners. Finally, they reached the billiard room, -where they fenced with the cues, and threw the balls at each other's -heads, whilst a sailor neatly cut off the cloth from the billiard -table, which he rolled into a ball and tucked under his arm. Three -or four days later, he had made a coat, waistcoat and trousers out -of it, and promenaded the streets of Lèves, amidst the enthusiastic -applause of his fellow-citizens, clad entirely in green cloth, like -one of the Earl of Lincoln's archers! But the life the Lévois led in -the palace was too delightful to last for long; authority bestirred -itself; they brought the riflemen out of their barracks once more, and -beat the rappel, and, a certain number of the National Guard having -taken up arms, they directed their combined forces upon the palace. -The attack was too completely unexpected for the spoilers to dream of -offering resistance. They went further than that, and, instead of the -wise retreat one would have expected from men who had vanquished the -troops which one is accustomed to call the best in the world, they took -to flight as rapidly as possible: leaping out of the windows into the -garden and scaling the walls, they ran across the fields and regained -Lèves in complete disorder. That same night every trace of barricading -disappeared. Next day, each inhabitant of Lèves attended to his work or -play or business. They were thinking nothing about the recent events, -when, suddenly, they saw quite an army arriving at Chartres from -Paris, Versailles and Orléans. This army was carrying twenty pieces -of artillery with it. It was commanded by General Schramm, and was -coming to restore order. Order had been re-established for the last -fortnight, unassisted! That did not matter, however; seeing there had -been disorder, they were marching on Lèves to carry out a razzia. - -The threatened village quietly watched this left-handed justice -approach: its eleven to twelve hundred inhabitants modestly stood at -their doors and windows. Peace and innocence reigned throughout from -east to west, from north to south; anyone entering might have thought -it the valley of Tempe, when Apollo tended the flocks of King Admetus. -The inhabitants of Lèves looked as though they were the actors in -that play (I cannot recall which it is), where Odry had sent for the -commissary at the wrong moment and, when the commissary arrived, -everybody was in unity again; so that everybody asked in profound -surprise-- - -"Who sent for a commissary? Did you? or you? or you?" - -"No.... I asked for a commissionaire," replied Odry; "just an ordinary -messenger, that is all!" and the agent took himself off abashed and -with empty hands. - -That happened in the piece, but not exactly in the same way at Lèves. -A score of persons were arrested, and these were divided into two -categories: the least guilty and the most guilty. The least guilty were -handed over to the jurisdiction of the police; the guiltiest were sent -before the Court of Assizes. A very curious thing resulted from this -separation. At that time, the _police correctionelle_ always sentenced, -whilst the jury acquitted only too eagerly. The least guilty men who -appeared before the _police correctionnelle_ were found guilty, while -the most culpable, who were tried before a jury, were acquitted. The -sailor in the green cloth was one of the most guilty, and was produced -before the jury as an indisputable piece of evidence. The jury declared -that billiard tables had not a monopoly for clothing in green; that -if a citizen liked to dress like a billiard table, why! political -opinions were free, so a man surely might indulge his individual fancy -in his style of dress. The religious question was decided in favour of -the French Church, and this decision lasted as long as the Abbé Ledru -himself, namely, four or five years; during which period of time the -parish of Lèves was separated from the general religion of the kingdom, -in France, without producing any great sensation. At the end of that -time, the Abbé Ledru committed the stupidity of dying. I am unaware -in what tongue and rites he was interred; but I do know that, the day -after his death, the Lévois asked the bishop for another priest, and -this bishop proved a kind father to his prodigal children and sent them -one. - -The third was received with as many honours as the two previously -appointed had been received with insults on their arrival. The French -Church was closed, the Roman Catholic religion re-established, and the -new priest returned to the old presbytery; the Grenadier became the -most fervent and humble of his penitents, and the tongue of Cicero and -Tacitus again became the dominical one of the Lévois, returned to the -bosom of Holy Church. - -But Barthélemy wrote to me, a little time ago, that there were serious -scruples in some weak minds. Were the infants baptised, the adults -married, and the old people buried by the Abbé Ledru during his schism -with Gregory XVI., really properly baptised and married and buried? It -did not matter to the baptised souls, who could return and be baptised -by an orthodox hand; nor again to the married ones, who had but to have -a second mass said over them and to pass under the canopy once more, -but it mattered terribly to the dead; for they could neither be sought -for nor recognised one from another. Happily God will recognise those -whom the blindness of human eyes prevents from seeing, and I am sure -that He will forgive the Lévois their temporary heresy for the sake of -their good intention. - -This event, and the conversion of Casimir Delavigne to the observances -of the French religion, were the culminating points in the fortunes of -the Abbé Châtel, primate of the Gauls. Casimir Delavigne, who gave his -sanction to all new phases of power; who sanctioned the authority of -Louis XVIII. in his play entitled, _Du besoin de s'unir après le depart -des étrangers_; who sanctioned the prerogative of Louis-Philippe in his -immortal, or say rather everlasting, _Parisienne_; Casimir Delavigne -sanctioned the authority of the primate of the Gauls by his translation -of the _Dies irœ, dies ilia_, which was chanted by Abbé Châtel's -choristers at the mass which the latter said in French at the funeral -service of Kosciusko. The Abbé Châtel possessed this good quality, that -he openly declared for the people as against kings. - -Here is the poem; it is little known and deserves to be better known -than it is. It is, therefore, in the hope of increasing its reputation -that we bring it to the notice of our readers. It was sung at the -French Church on 23 February 1831:-- - - - "Jour de colère, jour de larmes, - Où le sort, qui trahit nos armes, - Arrêta son vol glorieux! - - À tes côtés, ombre chérie, - Elle tomba, notre patrie, - Et ta main lui ferma les yeux! - - Tu vis, de ses membres livides, - Les rois, comme des loups avides, - S'arracher les lambeaux épars: - - Le fer, dégouttant de carnage, - Pour en grossir leur héritage, - De son cadavre fit trois parts. - - La Pologne ainsi partagée, - Quel bras humain l'aurait vengée? - Dieu seul pouvait la secourir! - - Toi-même tu la crus sans vie; - Mais, son cœur, c'était Varsovie; - Le feu sacré n'y put mourir! - - Que ta grande ombre se relève; - Secoue, en reprenant ton glaive, - Le sommeil de l'éternité! - - J'entends le signal des batailles, - Et le chant de tes funérailles - Est un hymne de liberté! - - Tombez, tombez, boiles funèbres! - La Pologne sort des ténèbres, - Féconde en nouveaux défenseurs! - - Par la liberté ranimée, - De sa chaîne elle s'est armée - Pour en frapper ses oppresseurs. - - Cette main qu'elle te présente - Sera bientôt libre et sanglante; - Tends-lui la main du haut des deux. - - Descends pour venger ses injures, - Ou pour entourer ses blessures - De ton linceul victorieux. - - Si cette France qu'elle appelle, - Trop loin--ne pent vaincre avec elle, - Que Dieu, du moins, soit son appui. - - Trop haut, si Dieu ne peut l'entendre, - Eh bien! mourons pour la défendre, - Et nous irons nous plaindre à lui!" - -We do not believe to-day that the Abbé Châtel is dead; but, if we judge -of his health by the cobwebs which adorn the hinges and bolts of the -French Church, we shall not be afraid to assert that he is very ill -indeed. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - - The Abbé de Lamennais--His prediction of the Revolution of - 1830--Enters the Church--His views on the Empire--Casimir - Delavigne, Royalist--His early days--Two pieces of poetry - by M. de Lamennais--His literary vocation--_Essay on - Indifference in Religious Matters_--Reception given to this - book by the Church--The academy of the château de la Chesnaie - - -We now ask permission to approach a more serious subject, and to -dedicate this chapter (were it only for the purpose of forming a -contrast with the preceding chapters) to one of the finest and greatest -of modern geniuses, to the Abbé de Lamennais. We speak of a period two -months after the Revolution of 1830. - -Out of the wilds of Brittany, that is, from the château de la Chesnaie, -there appeared a priest of forty, small of stature, nervous and pale, -with stubbly hair, and high forehead, the head compressed at the -sides as though it were enclosed by walls of bone; a sign, according -to Gall, indicative of the absence in man of cupidity, cunning and -acquisitiveness; the nose long, with dilated nostrils, denoting high -intelligence, according to Lavater; and, last, a piercing glance -and a determined chin. Everything connected with the man's external -appearance revealed his Celtic origin. Such was the Abbé DE LA MENNAIS, -whose name was written in three different ways, like that of M. DE -LA MARTINE, each different way in which he wrote it indicating the -different phases of the development of his mind and the progress of -his opinion. We say of his opinion and not opinions, for these three -phases, as in Raphael's three styles, mean, not a change of style, but -a perfecting of style. - -Into the thick of the agitation going on in silent thought or open -speech, the austere Breton came to teach the world a word they had -not expected; in fact at that time M. de la Mennais was looked upon -as a supporter of both _Throne_ and _Church._ The throne had just -fallen, and the Church was shaking violently from the changes which -the events of 1830 had wrought in social institutions. But the world -was mistaken with regard to the views of the great writer, because it -only saw in him the author of _L'Essai sur l'indifférence en matière -de religion_, a strange book, in which that virile imagination strove -against his century, struggling with the spirit of the times, as Jacob -strove with the angel. People forgot that in 1828, during the Martignac -Ministry, the same de Lamennais had hurled a book into the controversy -which had predicted a certain degree of intellectual revival: I refer -to _Du progrès de la Revolution et de la guerre contre l'Église._ In -this book, the Revolution of 1830 was foretold as an inevitable event. -Listen carefully to his words-- - - "And even to-day when there no longer really exists any - government, since it has become the tool and the plaything - of the boldest or of the most powerful; to-day, when - democracy triumphs openly, is there any more calm in its - own breast? Could one find, moreover, no matter what the - nature of his opinions may be, one man, one single man, who - desires what is, and who _desires only that and nothing - more?_ Never, on the other hand, has he more eagerly longed - for a new order of things; _everybody cries out for, the - whole world is calling for, a revolution, whether they admit - it or are conscious of it themselves._ Yes, it will come, - because it is imperative that nations shall be unitedly - educated and chastised; _because, according to the common - laws of Providence, a revolution is indispensable for the - preparation of a true social regeneration. France will not - be the only scene of action: it will extend everywhere where - Liberalism rules either in doctrine or in sentiment; and - under this latter form it is universal._" - -In the preface to the same book, M. de Lamennais had already said-- - - "That France and Europe are marching towards fresh - revolutions is now apparent to everybody. The most - undaunted hopes which have fed themselves for long on - interest or stupidity give way before the evidence of facts, - in the face of which it is no longer possible for anyone to - delude himself. Nothing can remain as it is, everything is - unsettled, totters towards a change. _Conturbatœ sunt gentes - et inclinata sunt regna._" - -We underline nothing in this second paragraph because we should have to -underline the whole. Let us pass on to the last words of the book-- - - "The time is coming when it will be said _to those who are - in darkness_: 'Behold the light!' And they will arise, - and, with gaze fixed on that divine radiance will, with - repentance and surprise, yet filled with joy, worship that - spirit which restores all disorder, reveals all truth, - enlightens every intelligence: _oriens ex alto._" - -The above expressions are those of a prophet as well as of a poet; they -reveal what neither the Guizots, the Molés, the Broglies, nor even the -Casimir Périers saw, nor, indeed, any of those we are accustomed to -style _statesmen_ foresaw. - -In this work M. de Lamennais appealed solemnly "for the alliance of -Catholics with all sincere Liberal spirits." This book is really in -some measure the hinge on which turned the gate through which M. de -Lamennais passed from his first political phase to the second. - -M. de Lamennais was born at St. Malo, in the house next to that in -which Chateaubriand was born, and a few yards only from that in which -Broussais came into the world. So that the old peaceful town gave us, -in less than fifteen years, Chateaubriand, Broussais and Lamennais, -names representative of the better part of the poetry, science and -philosophy of the first half of the nineteenth century. M. de Lamennais -had, like Chateaubriand, passed his childhood by the sea, had listened -to the roar of the ocean, watching the waves which are lost to sight on -infinite horizons, eternally returning to break against the cliffs, as -the human wave returns to break itself against invincible necessity. He -preserved, I recollect (for one feature in my existence coincided with -that of the author of _Paroles d'un Croyant_), he preserved, I repeat, -from his earliest childhood, the vivid and clear recollections which he -connected with the grand and rugged scenery of his beloved Brittany. - -"I can still hear," he said to us, at a dinner where the principal -guests were himself, the Abbé Lacordaire, M. de Montalembert, Listz -and myself--"the cry of certain sea-birds which passed _barking_ over -my head. Some of those rocks, which have looked down pityingly for -numberless centuries upon the angry impotent waves which perish at -their feet, are stocked with ancient legends." - -M. de Lamennais related one of these in his _une Voix de prison._ It is -that of a maiden who, overtaken by the tide, on a reef of rocks, tied -her hair to the stems of sea-weeds to keep herself from being washed -off by the motion of the waves, far away from her native land. - -M. de Lamennais's youth was stormy and undisciplined. He loved physical -exercises, hunting, fencing, racing and riding; strange tastes -these, as preparation for an ecclesiastical career! But it was not -from personal inclination or of his own impulse that he entered the -priesthood, but by compulsion from the noble families in the district. -On his part, the bishop of the diocese discerned in the young man a -superior intellect, a lofty character, a tendency towards meditation -and thoughtfulness, and drew him to himself by all kinds of seductions. -They spared him the trials of an ecclesiastical seminary, at which his -intractable disposition might have rebelled; but, priest though he was, -M. de Lamennais did not discontinue to ride the most fiery horses of -the town, or to practise shooting. It was the Empire, that régime of -glory and of despotism, which wounded the sensitive nerves of the young -priest of stern spirit and Royalist sympathies. Brittany remembered her -exiled princes, and the family of M. de Lamennais was among those which -faithfully preserved the worship of the past; not that their family -was of ancient nobility: the head of the house was a shipowner who had -made his wealth by distant voyages, and who was ennobled at the close -of the last century for services rendered to the town of St. Malo. The -Empire fell, and M. de Lamennais, casting a bird's-eye view over that -stupendous ruin, wrote in 1815-- - - "Wars of extermination sprang up again; despotism counted - her expenditure in men, as people reckon the revenue of an - estate; generations were mowed down like grass; and men - daily sold, bought, exchanged and given away like flocks of - little value, often not even knowing whose property they - were, to such an extent did a monstrous policy multiply - these infamous transactions! Whole nations were put in - circulation like pieces of money!" - -To profess such principles was, of course, equivalent to looking -towards the Restoration, that dawn without a sun. Moreover, it should -not be forgotten that, in those days, all young men of letters were -carried away with the same intoxication for monarchical memories. -Poets are like women--I do not at all know who said that poets were -women--they make much of a favourable misfortune. This enthusiasm for -_the person of the king_ was shared, in different degrees, even by -men whose names, later, were connected with Liberalism. Heaven alone -knows whether any king was ever less fitted than Louis XVIII. for -calling forth tenderness and idolatry! But that did not hinder Casimir -Delavigne from exclaiming-- - - "Henri, divin Henri, toi que fus grand et bon, - Qui chassas l'Espagnol, et finis nos misères, - Les partis sont d'accord en prononçant ton nom; - Henri, de les enfants fais un peuple de frères! - Ton image déjà semble nous protéger: - Tu renais! avec toi renaît l'indépendance! - Ô roi le plus Français dont s'honore la France, - Il est dans ton destin de voir fuir l'étranger! - Et toi, son digne fils, après vingt ans d'orage, - Règne sur des sujets par toi-même ennoblis; - Leurs droits sont consacrés dans ton plus bel ouvrage. - Oui, ce grand monument, affermi d'âge en âge, - Doit couvrir de son ombre et le peuple et les lys - Il est des opprimés l'asile impérissable, - La terreur du tyran, du ministre coupable, - Le temple de nos libertés! - Que la France prospère en tes mains magnanimes; - Que tes jours soient sereins, tes décrets respectés, - Toi qui proclames ces maximes: - 'Ô rois, pour commander, obéissez aux lois! - Peuple, en obéissant, sois libre sous tes rois!'" - -True, fifteen years later, the author of _La Semaine de Paris_ sang, -almost in the same lines of the accession to the throne of King -Louis-Philippe. Rather read for yourself-- - - "Ô toi, roi citoyen, qu'il presse dans ses bras, Aux cris - d'un peuple entier dont les transports sont justes. Tu fus - mon bienfaiteur ... Je ne te loûrai pas: Les poètes des - rois sont leurs actes augustes. Que ton règne te chante, et - qu'on dise après nous: 'Monarque, il fut sacré par la raison - publique; Sa force fut la loi; l'honneur, sa politique; Son - droit divin, l'amour de tous!'" - -Let us read again the lines we have just quoted--those which were -addressed to Louis XVIII. we mean--and we shall see that Victor Hugo, -Lamartine and Lamennais never expressed their delight at the return of -the Bourbons in more endearing terms than did Casimir Delavigne. What, -then, was the reason why the Liberals of that day and the Conservatives -of to-day bitterly reproached the first three of the above-mentioned -authors for these pledges of affection for the Elder Branch, whilst -they always ignored or pretended to ignore the covert royalism of the -author of _Messéniennes_? Ah! Heavens! It is because the former were -sincere in their blind, young enthusiasm, whilst the latter--let us be -allowed to say it--was not. The world forgives a political untruth, but -it does not forgive a conscientious recantation of the foolish mistakes -of a generously sympathetic heart. In the generous pity of these three -authors for the Bourbon family there was room for the shedding of a -tear for Marie-Antoinette and for Louis XVII. - -M. de Lamennais hesitated, for a while, over his literary vocation, -or at least, over the direction it should take. The solitude in which -he had lived, by the sea, had filled his soul with floating dreams, -like those beauteous clouds he had often watched with his outward -eyes in the depths of the heavens. He was within an ace of writing -novels and works of fiction; he did even get so far as to write some -poetry, which, of course, he never published. Here are two lines, which -entered, as far as I can remember, into a description of scholastic -theology-- - -"Elle avait deux grands yeux stupidement ouverts, -Dont l'un ne voyait pas ou voyait de travers!" - -M. de Lamennais then became a religious writer and a philosopher -more from force of circumstances than from inclination. His taste, -he assured us in his moments of expansion, upon which we look back -with respect and pride, would have led him by preference towards that -style of poetical prose-writing which Bernardin de Saint-Pierre had -made fashionable in _Paul et Virginie_, and Chateaubriand in _René._ -So he communed with himself and, with the unerring finger of the -implacable genius of the born observer, he touched upon the wound of -his century--indifference to religious matters. Surely the cry uttered -by that gloomy storm-bird, "the gods are departing!" had good reason -for startling the pious folk and statesmen of that period! Were not -the churches filled with missions and the high roads crowded with -missionaries? Was there not the cross of Migné, the miracles of the -Prince of Hohenlohe, the apparitions and trances of Martin de Gallardon -and others? What, then, could this man mean? M. de Lamennais took, as -the motto for his book, these words from the Bible-- - - "_Impius, cum in profundum venerit contemnit._" - -In his opinion, contempt was the sign by which he recognised the -decline of religious feeling. The seventeenth century believed, the -eighteenth denied, the nineteenth doubted. - -The success of the book was immense. France, agitated by vast and -conflicting problems, a Babel wherein many voices were speaking -simultaneously, in every kind of tongue, the France of the Empire, of -the Restoration, of Carbonarism, of Liberalism and of Republicanism, -held its peace to listen to the weighty and inspired utterance of this -unknown writer: "_et siluit terra in conspectu ejus!_" The voice came -from the desert. Who had seen, who knew this man? He had dropped from -the region where eagles dwell; his name was mentioned by all lips, in -the same breath with that of Bossuet. _L'Essai sur l'indifférence_ -was little read but much admired; the poets--they are the only people -who read--recognised in it a powerful imagination, at times almost an -affrighted imagination, which, both by its excesses and its terrors, -hugged, as it were, the dead body of religious belief, and shook it -roughly, hoping against hope, to bring it back to life again. Of all -prose-writers, Tacitus was the one whom the Abbé de Lamennais admired -the most; of all poets, Dante was the one he read over and over again -the most frequently; of all books, the one he knew by heart was the -Bible. - -Now, it might assuredly have been believed that this citadel, intended -to protect the weak walls of Catholicism, _L'Essai sur l'indifférence -en matière de religion_, was viewed with favourable eyes by the French -clergy; no such thing! Quite the contrary; a cry went up from the -heart of the Church, not of joy or admiration, but of terror. They -were scared by the genius of the man; religion was no longer in the -habit of having an Origen, a Tertullian, or a Bossuet to defend it; -it was afraid of being supported by such a defender and, little by -little, the shudder of fear reached even as far as Rome; and the book -was very nearly placed on the _Index._ These suspicions were aroused -by the nature of the arguments of which the author made use to repel -the attacks of philosophers. The Abbé de Lamennais foresaw, through the -gloom, the causes at work undermining the old edifice of orthodoxy, -and tried to put it on a wider basis of toleration and to prop it up, -as he himself expressed it, by the exercise of common sense. To this -end he made incredible flights into metaphysical realms, to prove that -Catholicism was, and always had been, the religion of Humanity. - -The Abbé de Lamennais taught in the seminaries, but his teaching was -looked upon with suspicion; and young people were forbidden the reading -of a work, which the outside world regarded as that of a misguided god -who wanted to deny man the right of freedom of thought. No suicide -was ever more heroic, never did intellect bring so much courage and -logic to the task of self-destruction. But, in reality, and from his -point of view, the Abbé de Lamennais was right: if you believe in an -infallible Church you must bravely destroy the eyes of your intellect -and extinguish the light of your soul, and, having voluntarily made -yourself blind, let yourself be led by the hand. But, however high a -solitary intellect may be placed, it is very quickly reached by the -influence of the times in which it lives. - -Two or three years ago, an aeronautic friend of mine, Petin, seriously -propounded to me _viva voce_, and to the world through the medium of -the daily papers, that he had just solved the great problem of serial -navigation. He reasoned thus-- - -"The earth turns_--E pur si muove!_--and in the motion of rotation on -its own axis, it successively presents every part of its surface, both -inhabited and uninhabited. Now, any person, who could raise himself -up into the extreme strata of ambient air, and could find a means to -keep himself there, would be able to descend in a balloon and alight -upon whatever town on the globe he liked; he would only have to wait -until that town passed beneath his feet; in that way he could go to the -Antipodes in a dozen hours, and without any fatigue whatsoever, since -he would not stir from his position, as it would be the earth which -would move for him." - -This calculation had but one flaw: it was false. The earth, in its -vast motion, carries with it every atom of the molecules of its -seething atmosphere. It is the same with great spirits which aim at -stability; without perceiving that, at the very moment when they think -they have cast anchor in the Infinite, they wake up to find they are -being carried away in spite of themselves by the irresistible movement -of their age. The spirit of Liberalism, with which the atmosphere -of the time was charged, carried away the splendid, obstinate and -lonely reason of the Abbé de Lamennais. It was about the year 1828. -Whilst fighting against the Doctrinaire School, for which he showed a -scarcely veiled contempt, M. de Lamennais sought to combine the needs -of faith with the necessities of progress; with this end in view he -had installed at his château at La Chesnaie a school of young people -whom he inculcated with his religious ideas. La Chesnaie was an ancient -château of Brittany, shaded by sturdy, centenarian oaks--those natural -philosophers, which ponder while their leaves rustle in the breeze on -the vicissitudes of man, of which changes they are impassive witnesses. -There, this priest, who was already troubled by the new spirit abroad, -educated and communed with disciples who held on from far or near to -the Church; amongst them were the Abbé Gerbert, Cyprien Robert, now -professor of Slavonic literature in the College of France, and a few -others. Work--methodical and persevering--was carried on within those -old walls, which the sea winds rocked and lashed against. This new -academy of Pythagoras studied the science of the century in order to -combat it; but, at each fresh ray of light, it recoiled enlightened, -and its recoil put weapons to be used against itself into the hands of -the enemy. That enemy was Human Thought. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - - The founding of _l'Avenir_--L'Abbé Lacordaire--M. - Charles de Montalembert--His article on the sacking - of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--_l'Avenir_ and the new - literature--My first interview with M. de Lamennais--Lawsuit - against _l'Avenir_--MM. de Montalembert and Lacordaire as - schoolmasters--Their trial in the _Cour des pairs_--The - capture of Warsaw--Answer of four poets to a word spoken by - a statesman - - -The Revolution of 1830 came as a surprise to M. de Lamennais and his -school in the midst of these vague and restless designs. His heart, -ready to sympathise with everything that was great and generous, -had already been alienated from Royalism; already the man, poet and -philosopher, was kicking beneath the priestly robe. The century which -had just venerated and extolled his genius, reproached him under its -breath for resisting the way of progress. Intractable and headstrong by -nature, with a rugged and reclusive intellect, the Abbé de Lamennais -was by temperament a free lance. Then 1830 sounded. Sitting upon the -ruins of that upheaval, which had just swallowed up one dynasty, and -shaken the Church with the same storm and shipwreck in which that -dynasty had foundered, the philosophers of La Chesnaie took counsel -together; they said among themselves that the opposition against the -clergy, with which Liberalism had been animated since 1815, was the -result of the prominent protection which had been spread over the -Catholic priests, in face of the instability of the Powers, in face of -the roaring waves of the Revolution; and they began to question whether -it would not be advantageous to the immutable Church to separate -herself from all the tottering States. Stated thus, the question was -quickly decided. The Abbé de Lamennais thought the time had come for -him to throw himself directly and personally into the struggle. The -principles of a journal were settled, and he went. Two men entered that -career of publicity with him: the Abbé Lacordaire and Comte Charles de -Montalembert. - -The Abbé Lacordaire was, at the period when I had the honour of finding -myself in communication with him on religious and political principles, -a young priest who had passed from the Bar at Paris to the Seminary -of Saint-Sulpice. After his term of probation, he had spent three -harassing years in the study of theology; he left the seminary full of -hazy ideas and turbulent instincts. His temper of mind was acrimonious, -keen and subtle; he had dark fiery eyes, delicate and mobile features, -he was pale with the pallor of the Cenobite and of a sickly complexion, -with hard, gaunt, strongly marked outlines,--so much for his face. -Attracted by the brilliancy of the Abbé de Lamennais, he fell in with -all his political views; he, too, longed for the liberty of the spirit -after due control of the flesh; the protection of the State, because of -his priesthood, was burdensome to him. He put his hand in his master's -and the covenant was sealed. - -The Comte de Montalembert, on his side, was, at that time, quite a -young man, fair, with a face like a girl's, and pink cheeks, shy and -blushing; as he was short-sighted, he looked close at people through -his eye-glasses. He appealed strongly to the Abbé de Lamennais, who -felt drawn to him with a sort of paternal sympathy. Finally, Comte -Charles de Montalembert belonged to a family whose devotion to the -cause of the Elder Branch of the Bourbons was well known; but he openly -declared that he placed France in his affections before a dynasty, and -liberty before a crown. - -Round these three men, one already famous and the others still -unknown, rallied the ecclesiastics and young people of talent, who, -in all simple faith, were desirous of combining the majesty of -religious traditions with the nobility of revolutionary ideas. That -such an alliance was impossible Time--that great tester of things and -men--would prove; but the attempt was none the less noble for all -that; it ministered, moreover, to a want which was then permeating the -new generations. Already Camille Desmoulins, one of those poets who -are specially inspired, had exclaimed to the Revolutionary Tribunal -with somewhat penetrative melancholy: "I am the same age, thirty-three -years, as the _Sans-culotte_ Jesus!" - -The title of the new journal was _l'Avenir._ The programme of its -principles was drawn up equally by them all, and it called upon -the government of July for absolute liberty for all creeds and all -religious communities, for liberty of the press, liberty in education, -the radical separation of the Church from the State and, finally, -for the abolition of the ecclesiastical budget. It was 16 October -1830, and the moment was a favourable one. Belgium was about to start -her revolution, and, in that revolution, the hand of the clergy was -visible; Catholic Poland was sending up under the savage treatment of -the Czar one long cry of distress and yet of hope; Ireland, by the -voice of O'Connell, was moving all nationalities to whom religion was -the motive power and a flag of independence; Ireland shook the air with -the words CHRIST and LIBERTY! _L'Avenir_ made itself the monitor of the -religious movement, combined with the political movement, as may be -judged by these few lines which proceeded from the association, and are -taken from its first number-- - - "We have no hidden design whatsoever, we never had; we mean - exactly what we say. Hoping, therefore, to be believed - in all good faith, we say to those whose ideas differ - upon several points of our creed: 'Do you sincerely want - religious liberty, liberty in educational matters, in civil - and political affairs and liberty of the press, which, - do not let us forget, is the guarantee for all types of - liberty? You belong to us as we belong to you. Every kind - of liberty that the people in the gradual development of - their life can uphold is their due, and their progress in - civilisation is to be measured by the actual and not the - fictitious, progress they make in liberty!'" - -It was at this juncture that the transformation tool place of the Abbé -DE LA MENNAIS to the Abbé de LAMENNAIS. His opinions and his talents -and his name entered upon a new era; he was no more the stern and -gloomy priest pronouncing deadly sentence on the human intellect over -the tomb of Faith; but a prophet shaking the shrouds of dying nations -in the name of liberty, and crying aloud to the dry bones to "Arise!" - -Now, among the young editors of _l'Avenir_ it is worth noticing that -the most distinguished of them for talent and for the loftiness of his -democratic views, was Comte Charles de Montalembert, whose imprudent -impetuosity the stern old man was obliged, more than once, to check. -Presently, we shall have to relate the story of the sacking of the -church of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois and the profanation of the sacred -contents. The situation was an embarrassing one for _l'Avenir_: that -journal had advised the young clergy to put faith in the Revolution, -and here was that self-same Revolution, breaking loose in a moment of -anger, throwing mud at the Catholic temples and uprooting the insignia -of religion. It was Comte Charles de Montalembert who undertook to be -the leader of the morrow. Instead of inveighing against the vandals, -he inveighed against the clergy and priests, whose blind and dangerous -devotion to the overturned throne had drawn down the anger of the -people upon the Christian creed. He had no anathemas strong enough -to hurl at "those incorrigible defenders of the ancient régime, and -that bastard Catholicism which gave birth to the religion of kings!" -The crosses that had been knocked down were those branded with the -fleurs-de-lis; he took the opportunity to urge the separation of the -Church from the civil authority. Without the fleurs-de-lis, no one--the -Comte Charles de Montalembert insisted emphatically--had any quarrel -with the Cross. - -The objective of _l'Avenir_, then, was both political and literary; -it was in sympathy with modern literature, and, in the person of the -Abbé de Lamennais, it possessed, besides, one of the leading writers of -the day; it was one of those rare papers (_rari nantes_) in which one -could follow the human mind under its two aspects. _Liber_, in Latin, -may be allowed to mean also _libre_ (free) and _livre_ (book). I have -already told how we literary men of the new school had made implacable -enemies of all the papers on the side of the political movement. It was -all the more strange that the literary revolution had preceded, helped, -prepared the way for and heralded the political revolution which was -past, and the social revolution which was taking place. For example, -we recollect an article upon _Notre Dame de Paris_, wherein, whilst -regretting that the author was not more deeply Catholic, Comte Charles -de Montalembert praised the style and poetry of Victor Hugo with the -enthusiasm of an adept. It was about this time, and several days, I -believe, after the representation of _Antony_, that M. de Lamennais -expressed the desire that I should be introduced to him. This wish was -a great honour for me, and I gratefully acquiesced. A mutual friend -took me to the house of the famous founder of _l'Avenir_, who was then -living in the rue Jacob--I remember the name of the street, but have -forgotten the number of the house. Before that day, I had already -joyfully acknowledged an admiration for him which sprang up in my heart -and soul fresh, and strong, and unalloyed. - -Meanwhile, _l'Avenir_ was successful; this was soon apparent from the -anger and hatred launched against its doctrines. Amongst the various -advices it gave to the clergy, that of renouncing the emoluments -administered by the State, and of simply following Christ in poverty, -was not at all relished; and people grew indignant. It was in vain for -the solemn voice of the Abbé de Lamennais to exclaim-- - -"Break these degrading chains! Put away these rags!" - -The clergy replied under their breath: "Call them rags if you wish, but -they are rags dear to our hearts." - -Do my readers desire to know to what degree the journal _l'Avenir_ had -its roots buried in what is aristocratically styled Society? Then let -us quote the first lines dedicated to the trial of _l'Avenir_ in the -_l'Annuaire_ of Lesur-- - - "Never were the approaches to the Court of Assizes more - largely filled with so affluent and influential a crowd, - and never certainly were so large a number of _ladies_ - attracted to a political trial as in the case of this. - Immediately the court opened proceedings, the jurymen, - defendants, barristers and the magistrate himself were - overwhelmed by a multitude of persons who could not manage - to find seats. M. l'Abbé de Lamennais, M. Lacordaire, the - editors of _l'Avenir,_ and M. Waille, the responsible - manager of the paper, were placed on chairs in the centre of - the bar; the two first were clad in frockcoats over their - cassocks; M. Waille wore the uniform of the National Guard." - -It was one of the first press trials since July. The public -prosecutor's speech was very timid, and he apologised for coming, -after a revolution carried out in favour of the press, to demand legal -penalties against this very press. But _l'Avenir_ had exceeded all -limits of propriety. We will quote the incriminating phrase-- - - "Let us prove that we are Frenchmen by faithfully defending - that which no one can snatch from us without violating the - law of the land. Let us say to our sovereigns: 'We will obey - you in so far as you yourselves obey that law which has made - you what you are, without which you are nothing! '" - -That was written by M. de Lamennais. We forget the actual phrase, -although not the cause, which brought the Abbé Lacordaire to the -defendants' bench. M. de Lamennais was defended by Janvier, who has -since played a part in politics. Lacordaire defended himself. His -speech made a great sensation, and revealed the qualities both of a -lawyer and of a preacher. The jury acquitted them. - -Some time later, _l'Avenir_ had to submit to the ordeal of another -trial in a greater arena and under circumstances which we ought to -recall. - -MM. de Montalembert and Lacordaire had constituted themselves the -champions of liberty in educational matters, as well as of all other -liberties, both religious and civil. From words they passed to deeds; -and they opened, conjointly, an elementary school which a few poor -children attended. The police intervened. Ordered to withdraw, the -professors offered resistance, so they were obliged to arrest the -"substance of the offence"--namely, the street arabs who filled the -school-room. There was hardly sufficient ground for a trial before the -_tribunal correctionnel_; but, in the meantime, a few days before the -promulgation of the law which suppressed the hereditary rights to the -peerage, M. Charles de Montalembert's most excellent father died. The -matter then assumed unexpected proportions: Charles de Montalembert, -a peer of France by the grace of non-retroactivity, was not amenable -to ordinary courts of justice, so the trial was carried before the -Court of Peers, where it took the dimensions of a political debate -upon the freedom of education. Lacordaire, whose cause could not be -disconnected from that of his accomplice, was also transferred to the -Supreme Court, and he delivered extempore his own counsel's speech. M. -de Montalembert, on the contrary, read a speech in which he attacked -the university and M. de Broglie in particular. - -"At this point," says the _Moniteur_, in its report of the trial, "the -honourable peer of France put up his eye-glass and looked critically at -the young orator." - -Less fortunate before the Court of Peers than before the jury, which -would certainly have acquitted them, the two editors of _l'Avenir_ -lost their case; but they won it in the opinion of the country. The -Comte de Montalembert owed it to this circumstance, that he sided -with M. de Lamennais, whose Liberal doctrines he shared and professed -at that time; he was also equally bound by the unexpected death -of his father to find a career ready opened for him in the Upper -Chamber. But when questioned by the Chamber as to his profession, he -replied--"Schoolmaster." - -All these trials seemed but to give a handle to M. de Lamennais's -religious enemies. Rumours began from below. From the lower clergy, who -condemned them, M. de Lamennais and the other editors of _l'Avenir_ -appealed to the bishops, who in their turn also condemned them. Then, -driven back from one entrenchment after another, like the defenders -of a town, who, having vainly defended their advanced positions, and -their first and second _enceintes_, are forced to take refuge within -the citadel itself, the accused men were obliged to look towards -the Vatican, and to put their trust in Rome. The mainmast of this -storm-beaten vessel, M. de Lamennais, was the first to be struck by the -thunders of denunciation. - -On 8 September 1831, a voice rang through the world similar to that of -the angel in the Apocalypse, announcing the fall of towns and empires; -that voice, as incoherent as a death-rattle or last expiring sigh, -formulated itself in these terrible words on 16 September: "Poland has -just fallen! Warsaw is taken!" We know how this news was announced to -the Chamber of Deputies by General Sébastiani. "Letters I have received -from Poland," he said, in the session of 16 September, "inform me -that PEACE _reigns in Warsaw."_ There was a slight variation given in -the _Moniteur_, which spoke of ORDER, instead of _peace_, reigning in -Warsaw. Under the circumstances neither word was better than the other: -both were infamous! It is curious to come across again to-day the echo -which that great downfall awakened in the soul of poets and believers, -those living lyres which great national misfortunes cause to vibrate, -and from whom the passing breeze of calamity draws exquisite sounds. -Here we have four replies to the optimistic phraseology of the Minister -for Foreign Affairs-- - - BARTHÉLEMY - - "_Destinée à périr!_ ... L'oracle avait raison! - Faut-il accuser Dieu, le sort, la trahison? - Non, tout était prévu, l'oracle était lucide!... - Qu'il tombe sur nos fronts, le sceau du fratricide! - Noble sœur! Varsovie! elle est morte pour nous; - Morte un fusil en main, sans fléchir les genoux; - Morte en nous maudissant à son heure dernière; - Morte en baignant de pleurs l'aigle de sa bannière, - Sans avoir entendu notre cri de pitié, - Sans un mot de la France, un adieu d'amitié! - Tout ce que l'univers, la planète des crimes, - Possédait de grandeur et de vertus sublimes; - Tout ce qui fut géant dans notre siècle étroit - A disparu! Tout dort dans le sépulcre froid!... - Cachons-nous! cachons-nous! nous sommes des infâmes! - Rasons nos poils, prenons la quenouille des femmes; - Jetons has nos fusils, nos guerriers oripeaux, - Nos plumets citadins, nos ceintures de peaux; - Le courage à nos cœurs ne vient que par saccades ... - Ne parlons plus de gloire et de nos barricades! - Que le teint de la honte embrase notre front! - Vous voulez voir venir les Russes: ils viendront!..." - - - BARBIER - - "_La Guerre_ - - "Mère! il était une ville fameuse; - Avec le Hun j'ai franchi ses détours; - J'ai démoli son enceinte fumeuse; - Sous le boulet j'ai fait crouler ses tours! - J'ai promené mes chevaux par les rues, - Et, sous le fer de leurs rudes sabots, - J'ai labouré le corps des femmes nues, - Et des enfants couchés dans les ruisseaux!... - Hourra! hourra! j'ai courbé la rebelle! - J'ai largement lavé mon vieil affront: - J'ai vu des morts à hauteur de ma selle! - Hourra! j'ai mis les deux pieds sur son front!... - Tout est fini, maintenant, et ma lame - Pend inutile à côté de mon flanc. - Tout a passé par le fer et la flamme; - Toute muraille a sa tache de sang! - Les maigres chiens aux saillantes échines - Dans les ruisseaux n'ont plus rien à lécher; - Tout est désert; l'herbe pousse aux ruines.... - Ô mort! ô mort! je n'ai rien à faucher!" - - - "_Le Choléra-Morbus_ - - "Mère! il était un peuple plein de vie, - Un peuple ardent et fou de liberté; - Eh bien, soudain, des champs de Moscovie, - Je l'ai frappé de mon souffle empesté! - Mieux que la balle et les larges mitrailles, - Mieux que la flamme et l'implacable faim, - J'ai déchiré les mortelles entrailles, - J'ai souillé l'air et corrompu le pain!... - J'ai tout noirci de mon haleine errante; - De mon contact j'ai tout empoisonné; - Sur le teton de sa mère expirante, - Tout endormi, j'ai pris le nouveau-né! - J'ai dévoré, même au sein de la guerre, - Des camps entiers de carnage filmants; - J'ai frappé l'homme au bruit de son tonnerre; - J'ai fait combattre entre eux des ossements!... - Partout, partout le noir corbeau becquète; - Partout les vers ont des corps à manger; - Pas un vivant, et partout un squelette ... - Ô mort! ô mort! je n'ai rien à ronger!" - - - "_La Mort_ - - "Le sang toujours ne peut rougir la terre; - Les chiens toujours ne peuvent pas lécher; - Il est un temps où la Peste et la Guerre - Ne trouvent plus de vivants à faucher!... - Enfants hideux! couchez-vous dans mon ombre, - Et sur la pierre étendez vos genoux; - Dormez! dormez! sur notre globe sombre, - Tristes fléaux! je veillerai pour vous. - Dormez! dormez! je prêterai l'oreille - Au moindre bruit par le vent apporté; - Et, quand, de loin, comme un vol de corneille, - S'élèveront des cris de liberté; - Quand j'entendrai de pâles multitudes, - Des peuples nus, des milliers de proscrits, - Jeter à has leurs vieilles servitudes - En maudissant leurs tyrans abrutis; - Enfants hideux! pour finir votre somme, - Comptez sur moi, car j'ai l'œil creux ... Jamais - Je ne m'endors, et ma bouche aime l'homme - Comme le czar aime les Polonais!" - - - VICTOR HUGO - - "Je hais l'oppression d'une haine profonde; - Aussi, lorsque j'entends, dans quelque coin du monde, - Sous un ciel inclément, sous un roi meurtrier, - Un peuple qu'on égorge appeler et crier; - Quand, par les rois chrétiens aux bourreaux turcs livrée, - La Grèce, notre mère, agonise éventrée; - Quand l'Irlande saignante expire sur sa croix; - Quand l'Allemagne aux fers se débat sous dix rois; - Quand Lisbonne, jadis belle et toujours en fête, - Pend au gibet, les pieds de Miguel sur sa tête; - Quand Albani gouverne au pays de Caton; - Quand Naples mange et dort; quand, avec son bâton, - Sceptre honteux et lourd que la peur divinise, - L'Autriche casse l'aile au lion de Venise; - Quand Modène étranglé râle sous l'archiduc: - Quand Dresde lutte et pleure au lit d'un roi caduc; - Quand Madrid sa rendort d'un sommeil léthargique; - Quand Vienne tient Milan; quand le lion belgique, - Courbé comme le bœuf qui creuse un vil sillon, - N'a plus même de dents pour mordre son bâillon; - Quand un Cosaque affreux, que la rage transporte, - Viole Varsovie échevelée et morte, - Et, souillant son linceul, chaste et sacré lambeau - Se vautre sur la vierge étendue au tombeau; - Alors, oh! je maudis, dans leur cour, dans leur antre, - Ces rois dont les chevaux ont du sang jusqu'au ventre. - Je sens que le poète est leur juge; je sens - Que la muse indignée, avec ses poings puissants, - Peut, comme au pilori, les lier sur leur trône, - Et leur faire un carcan de leur lâche couronne, - Et renvoyer ces rois, qu'on aurait pu bénir, - Marqués au front d'un vers que lira l'avenir! - Oh! la muse se doit aux peuples sans défense! - J'oublie, alors, l'armour, la famille, l'enfance. - Et les molles chansons, et le loisir serein, - Et j'ajoute à ma lyre une corde d'airain!" - - - LAMENNAIS - - "_The Taking of Warsaw_ - - "Warsaw has capitulated! The heroic nation of Poland, - forsaken by France and repulsed by England, has fallen in the - struggle she has gloriously maintained for eight months against - the Tartar hordes allied with Prussia. The Muscovite yoke is - again about to oppress the people of Jagellon and of Sobieski, - and, to aggravate her misfortune, the furious rage of various - monsters will, perhaps, detract from the horror which the crime - of this fresh onslaught ought to inspire. Let every man protect - his own property; leave to the cut-throat, murder and - treachery! Let the true sons of Poland protect their glory - untarnished, immortal! Leave to the Czar and his allies the - curses of everyone who has a human heart, of every man who - realises what constitutes a country. To our Ministers their - names! There is nothing lower than this. Therefore, generous - people, our brothers in faith, and at arms, whilst you were - fighting for your lives, we could only aid you with our - prayers; and now, when you are lying on the field of battle, - all that we can give you is our tears! May they in some - degree, at least, comfort you in your great sufferings! - Liberty has passed over you like a fleeting shadow, a shadow - that has terrified your ancient oppressors: to them it appears - as a symbol of justice! After the dark days had passed, you - looked heavenwards, and thought you saw more kindly signs - there; you said to yourself: 'The time of deliverance - approaches; this earth which covers the bones of our ancestors - shall yet be our own; we will no longer heed the voice of the - stranger dictating his insolent commands to us.... Our altars - shall be as free as our fire-sides.' But you have been self-deceived; - the time to live has not yet come; it was the time - to die for all that was sweet and sacred to men's hearts.... - Nation of heroes, people of our affection! rest in peace in the - tombs that the crimes and cowardice of others have dug for - you; but never forget that hope springs from those tombs; and - a cross above them prophesies, 'Thou shalt rise again!'" - -Let us admit that a nation is fortunate if it possesses poets; for were -there only politicians, posterity would gather very odd notions about -it. - -In conclusion, the downfall of Poland included with it that of -_l'Avenir._ We will explain how this was brought about in the next -chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - - Suspension of _l'Avenir_--Its three principal editors - present themselves at Rome--The Abbé de Lamennais as - musician--The trouble it takes to obtain an audience of the - Pope--The convent of Santo-Andrea della Valle--Interview - of M. de Lamennais with Gregory XVI.--The statuette of - Moses--The doctrines of _l'Avenir_ are condemned by the - Council of Cardinals--Ruin of M. de Lamennais--The _Paroles - d'un Croyant_ - - -The position of affairs was no longer tenable for the editors of -_l'Avenir._ If, on the one hand, the religious democracy, overwhelmed -with sadness and bitterness, listened with affection to the words of -the messengers; on the other hand, the opposition of the heads of the -Catholic Church became formidable, and the accusation of heresy ran -from lip to lip. The Abbé de Lamennais looked about him and, like the -prophet Isaiah, could see nothing but desolation all around. Poland, -wounded in her side, her hand out of her winding sheet, slept in the -ever deceived expectation of help from the hand of France; and yet she -had fallen full of despair and doubt, crying, "God is too high, and -France too far off!" Ireland, sunk in misery and dying from starvation, -ground down under the heel of England, in vain prostrated herself -before its wooden crosses to implore succour from Heaven: none came to -her! Liberty seemed to have turned away her face from a world utterly -unworthy of her. Poland and Ireland, those two natural allies in all -religious democracy, disappeared from the political scenes, dragging -down with them in their fall the existence of _l'Avenir._ The wave -of opposition, like an unebbing tide, still rose and ever rose. Some -detested M. de Lamennais's opinions; others, his talent; the latter -were as much incensed against him as any. He was obliged to yield. Like -every paper which disappears into space, _l'Avenir_ had to announce -_suspension_ of publication; this was his farewell from Fontainebleau-- - - "If we withdraw for a while," wrote M. de Lamennais, "it is - not on account of weariness, still less from discouragement; - it is to go, as the soldiers of Israel of old, _to consult - the Lord in Shiloh._ They have put our faith and our very - intentions to the doubt; for what is there that people do - not attack in these days? We leave the field of battle - for a short time to fulfil another duty equally pressing. - Traveller's stick in hand, we pursue our way to the eternal - throne to prostrate ourselves at the feet of the pontiff - whom Jesus Christ has established as the guide and teacher - to His disciples, and we will say to him, 'O Father! - condescend to look down upon these, the latest of thy - children to be accused of being in rebellion against thy - infallibility and gracious authority! O Father! pronounce - over us the words which will give life and light, and extend - thy hand over us in blessing and in acknowledgment of our - obedience and love.'" - -It would be puerile to question the sincerity of the author of those -lines at this point. For, like Luther, who also promised his submission -to Rome, the Abbé de Lamennais meant to persevere in the Catholic -faith. If, later, his orthodoxy wavered; if, upon closer view of Rome -and her cardinals, his faith in the Vicar of Christ and the visible -representation of the Church gave way, we should rather accuse the -pagan form under which the religion of Christ was presented to him, as -in the case of the monk of Eisleben, when he visited the Eternal City. -When I reach that period in my life, I will relate my own feelings, and -will give my long conversations on the subject with Pope Gregory XVI. - -The three pilgrims of _l'Avenir,_ the Abbé de Lamennais, the Abbé -Lacordaire and the Comte Charles de Montalembert, started, then, for -Italy, not quite, as one of their number expressed it, with travellers' -staffs in their hands, but animated with sincere faith and with -sorrow in their hearts. They did not leave behind them the dream of -eleven months without feeling deep regret; _l'Avenir_ had, in fact, -lasted from 16 October 1830 to 17 September 1831. We will not relate -the travelling impressions of the Abbé de Lamennais, for the author -of the _Essai sur l'indifférence_ was not at all the man to notice -external impressions. He passed through Italy with unseeing eyes; all -through that land of wonders he saw nothing beyond his own thoughts -and the object of his journey. Ten years later, when prisoner at -Sainte-Pélagie, and already grown quite old, Lamennais discovered a -corner in his memory still warm with the Italian sunshine; by a process -of photography, which explains the character of the man we are dealing -with, the monuments of art and the country itself were transferred to -a plate in his brain! It needed meditation, solitude and captivity, -just as the silvered plate needs iodine, to bring out of his memory -the image of the beautiful things he had forgotton to admire ten years -previously. On this account, he writes to us in 1841, under the low -ceiling of his cell-- - -"I begin to see Italy.... It is a wondrous country!" - -A curious psychological study might be made of the Abbé de Lamennais, -especially by comparing him with other poets of his day. The author of -the _Essai sur l'indifférence_ saw little and saw that but imperfectly; -there was a cloud over his eyes and on his brain; the sole perception, -the only sense he had of the outside world, which seemed to be always -alert and awake, was that of hearing, a sense equivalent to the -musical faculty: he played the piano and especially delighted in the -compositions of Liszt. Hence arose, probably, his profound affection -for that great artist. As regards all other outward senses of the -objective world, his perceptions seem to have been within him, and -when he wishes to see, it is in his own soul that he looks. To this -peculiarity is owing the nature of his style, which is psychological in -treatment. If he describes scenery, as in his _Paroles d'un Croyant_, -or in the descriptions sent from his prison, it is always the outlines -of the infinite that is drawn by his pen in vague horizons; with him it -is his thoughts which visualise, not his eyes. M. de Lamennais belongs -to the race of morbid thinkers, of whom Blaise Pascal is a sample. Let -not the medical faculty even attempt to cure these sensitive natures: -it will be but to deprive them of their genius. - -The journey, with its enforced waits for relays of horses, often -afforded the Abbé de Lamennais leisure for the study of our modern -school of literature, with which he was but little acquainted. In an -Italian monastery, where the pilgrims received hospitality, MM. de -Lamennais and Lacordaire read _Notre-Dame de Paris_ and _Henri III._ -for the first time. When they reached Rome, the Abbé de Lamennais -put up at the same hotel and suite of rooms that had been occupied a -few months previously by the Comtesse Guiccioli. His one fixed idea -was to see the Pope and to settle his affairs, those of religious -democracy, with him direct. After long delays and a number of fruitless -applications, after seven or eight requests for an audience still -without result, the Abbé de Lamennais complained; then a Romish -ecclesiastic, to whom he poured out his grievances, naively suggested -that he had perhaps omitted to deposit the sum of ... in the hands of -Cardinal.... The Abbé de Lamennais confessed that he would have been -afraid of offending His Eminence by treating him like the doorkeeper of -a common courtesan. - -"You need no longer be surprised at not having been received by His -Holiness," was the Italian abbé's reply. - -The ignorant traveller had forgotten the essential formality. But, -although instructed, he still persisted in trying to obtain an audience -of the Pope gratis; by paying, he felt he should be truckling with -simony. The editors of _l'Avenir_ had remained for three months -unrecognised in the Holy City, waiting until the Pope should condescend -to consider a question which was keeping half Catholic Europe in -suspense. The Abbé Lacordaire had decided to return to France; the -Comte de Montalembert made preparations for setting out for Naples; M. -de Lamennais alone remained knocking at the gates of the Vatican, which -were more inexorably closed than those of Lydia in her bad days. Father -Ventura, then general of the Theatine, received the illustrious French -traveller at Santo-Andrea della Valle. - -"I shall never forget," says M. de Lamennais in his _Affaires de Rome_, -"those peaceful days I spent in that pious household, surrounded -by the most exquisite care, amongst those instructively good and -religious people devoted to their duty and aloof from all intrigue. -The life of the cloister-regular, calm and, as it were, set apart and -self-contained-holds a kind of _via media_ between the purely worldly -life and that of the future, which faith reveals to us in but shadowy -outlines, and of which every human being possesses within himself a -positive assurance." - -Finally, after many solicitations, the Abbé de Lamennais was received -in private audience by Gregory XVI. He went to the Vatican, climbed the -huge staircase often ascended and descended by Raphael and by Michael -Angelo, by Leo X. and Julian II.; he crossed the high and silent -chambers with their double rows of superposed windows; at the end of -that long, splendid and desolate palace he reached, under the escort -of an usher, an ante-chamber, where two cardinals, as motionless as -statues, sat upon wooden seats, solemnly reading their breviary. At -the appointed moment the Abbé de Lamennais was introduced. In a small -room, bare, upholstered in scarlet, where a single armchair denoted -that only one man had the right to sit there, a tall old man stood -upright, calm and smiling in his white garments. He received M. de -Lamennais standing, a great honour! The greatest honour which that -divine man could pay to another man without violating etiquette. Then -the Pope conversed with the French traveller about the lovely sunshine -and the beauties of nature in Italy, of the Roman monuments, the arts -and ancient history; but of the object of his journey and his own -special business in coming there, not a a single word. The Pope had no -commission at all for that: the question was being considered somewhere -in the dark by the cardinals appointed to inquire into it, whose names -were not divulged. A petition had been addressed to the Court of Rome -by the editors of _l'Avenir_; and this petition must necessarily lead -to some decision, but all this was shrouded in the most impenetrable -mystery. The Pope himself, however, showed affability to the French -priest, whose genius was an honour to the Catholic Church. - -"What work of art," he asked M. de Lamennais, "has impressed you most?" - -"The _Moses_ of Michael Angelo," replied the priest. - -"Very well," replied Gregory XVI.; "then I will show you something -which no one sees or which very few indeed, even of the specially -favoured, see at Rome." Whilst saying this, the great white-haired -old man entered a sort of recess enclosed by curtains, and returned -holding in his arms a miniature replica in silver of the _Moses_ done -by Michael Angelo himself. - -The Abbé de Lamennais admired it, bowed and withdrew, accompanied by -the two cardinals who guarded the entrance to that chamber. He was -compelled to acknowledge the gracious reception he had been accorded by -the Holy Father; but, in all conscience, he had not come all the way -from Paris to Rome just to see the statuette of Moses! It was a most -complete disillusionment. He shook the dust of Rome off his feet, the -dust of graves, and returned to Paris. After a long silence, when the -affair of _l'Avenir_ seemed buried in the excavations of the Holy See, -Rome spoke: she condemned the doctrines of the men who had tried to -reunite Christianity to Liberty. - -The distress of the Abbé de Lamennais was profound. The shepherd -being smitten, the sheep scattered, the news of censure had scarcely -had time to reach La Chesnaie before the disciples were seized with -terror and took to flight. M. de Lamennais remained alone in the old -deserted château, in melancholy silence, broken only by the murmur of -the great oak trees and the plaintive song of birds. Soon, even this -retreat was taken from him, and he woke one day to find himself ruined -by the failure of a bookseller to whom he had given his note of hand. -Then the late editor of _l'Avenir_ began his voyage through bitter -waters; anguish of soul prevented his feeling his poverty, which was -extreme; his furniture, books, all were sold. Twice he bowed his head -submissively under the hand of the Head of the Church, and twice he -raised it, each time sadder than before, each time more indomitable, -more convinced that the human mind, progress, reason, the conscience -could not be wrong. It was not without profound heart-rendings that -he separated himself from the articles of belief of his youth, from -his career of priesthood and of tranquil obedience and from great -and powerful harmony; in a word, from everything that he had upheld -previously; but the new spirit had, in Biblical language, gripped him -by the hair commanding him to "go forward!" It was then, in silence, -in the midst of persecutions which even his gentleness was unable to -disarm, in a small room in Paris, furnished with only a folding-bed, -a table and two chairs, that the Abbé de Lamennais wrote his _Paroles -d'un Croyant._ The manuscript lay for a year in the author's portfolio; -placed several times in the hands of the editor Renduel, withdrawn, -then given back to him to be again withdrawn, this fine book was -subjected to all sorts of vicissitudes before its publication and met -with all sorts of obstructions; the chief difficulties came from the -abbé's own family, especially from a brother, who viewed with terror -the launching forth upon the sea of democracy tossed by the storms -of 1833. At last, after many delays and grievous hesitations, the -author's strength of will carried the day against the entreaties of -friendship; and the book appeared. It marked the third transformation -of its writer: the ABBÉ DE LA MENNAIS and M. de LAMENNAIS gave place to -CITIZEN LAMENNAIS. We shall come across him again on the benches of the -Constituent Assembly of 1848. In common with all men of great genius, -who have had to pilot their own original course through the religious -and political storms that raged for thirty years, M. de Lamennais has -been the subject of the most opposite criticisms. We do not undertake -here to be either his apologist or denouncer; simply to endeavour to -render him that justice which every true-hearted man owes to any man -whom he admires: we have tried to show him to others as he appeared to -our own eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - - Who Gannot was--Mapah--His first miracle--The wedding - at Cana--Gannot, phrenologist--Where his first ideas on - phrenology came from--The unknown woman--The change wrought - in Gannot's life--How he becomes Mapah - - -Let us frame M. de Lamennais, the great philosopher, poet and -humanitarian, between a false priest and a false god. Christ was -crucified after His bloody passion between two thieves. We are now -going to relate the adventures and expose the doctrines of _Mapah_ or -of the _being who was Gannot._ He was one of the most eccentric of -the gods produced during the years 1831 to 1845. The ancients divided -their gods into _dii majores_ and _dii minores_; Mapah was a _minor_ -god. He was not any the less entertaining on that account. The name of -_Mapah_ was the favourite title of the god, and the one under which -he wished to be worshipped; but, not forgetting that he had been a -man before he became a god, he humbly and modestly permitted himself -to be called, and at times even called himself, by his own personal -name as, _he who was Gannot._ He had indeed, or rather he had had, two -very distinct existences; that of a man and that of a god. The man -was born about 1800, or, at all events, he would seem to have been -nearly my own age when I knew him. He gave his age out to be then as -between twenty-eight and thirty. I was told that, when he became a -god, he maintained he had been contemporaneous with all the ages and -even to have preexisted, under a double symbolic form, Adam and Eve, -in whom he became incarnate when the father and mother of the human -race were yet one and the self-same flesh! The man had been an elegant -dandy, a fop and frequenter of the boulevard de Gand, loving horses -and adoring women, and an inveterate gambler; he was an adept at every -kind of play, specially at billiards. He was as good a billiard player -as was Pope Gregory XVI., and supposing the latter had staked his -papacy on his skilful play against Gannot, I would assuredly have bet -on Gannot. To say that Gannot played billiards better than other games -does not mean that he preferred games of skill to those of chance; not -at all: he had a passion for roulette, for la rouge et la blanche, for -trente-et-un, for le biribi, and, in fact, for all kinds of games of -chance. He was also possessed of all the happy superstitious optimism -of the gambler: none knew better than he how to puff at a cigar and to -creak about in varnished boots upon the asphalted pavements whilst he -dreamt of marvellous fortunes, of coaches, tilburys, tandems harnessed -to horses shod in silver; of mansions, hotels, palaces, with soft thick -carpets like the grass in a meadow; of curtains, of imitation brocades, -tapestries, figured silk, crystal lustres and Boule furniture. -Unluckily, the gold he won flowed through his extravagant fingers like -water. Unceasingly bandied about from misery to abundance, he passed -from the goddess of hunger to that of satiety with regal airs that were -a delight to witness. Debauchery was none the less pleasing to him, -but it had to be debauchery on a huge scale: the feast of Trimalco or -the nuptials of Gamacho. But, in other ways, he was a good friend, -ever ready to lend a helping hand--throwing his money broadcast, and -his heart among the women, giving his life to everybody not suspecting -his future divinity, but already performing all kinds of miracles. -Such was Gannot, the future Mapah, when I had the honour of making his -acquaintance, about 1830 or 1831, at the _café de Paris._ Still less -than he himself could I foretell his future divinity, and, if anybody -had told me that, when I left him at two o'clock in the morning to -return to my third storey in the rue de l'Université, I had just shaken -the hand of a god, I should certainly have been very much surprised -indeed. - -I have said that even before he became a god, Gannot worked miracles; -I will recount one which I almost saw him do. It was somewhere about -1831--to give the precise date of the year is impossible--and a friend -of Gannot, an innocent debtor who was as yet only negotiating his first -bill of exchange, went to find Gannot to lay before him his distress -in harrowing terms. Gannot was the type of man people always consulted -in difficult crises,--his mind was quick in suggestions; he was -clear-sighted and steady of hand. Unluckily, Gannot was going through -one of his periods of poverty, days when he could have given points -even to Job. He began, therefore, by confessing his personal inability -to help, and when his friend despaired-- - -"Bah!" he said, "we have seen plenty of other people in as bad a -plight!" - -This was a favourite expression with Gannot, who had, indeed, seen all -shades of life. - -"All very well," said his friend; "but meantime, how am I to get out of -this fix?" - -"Have you anything of value you could raise money on, if it were but -twenty, ten, or even five francs?" - -"Alas!" said the young fellow, "there is only my watch ..." - -"Silver or gold?" - -"Gold." - -"Gold! What did it cost?" - -"Two hundred francs; but I shall hardly get sixty for it, and the bill -of exchange is for five hundred francs." - -"Go and take your watch to the Mont-de-Piété." - -"And then?" - -"Bring back the money they give you for it here." - -"Well?" - -"You must give me half of it." - -"After that?" - -"Then I will tell you what you must do.... Go, and be sure you do not -divert a single son of the amount!" - -"The deuce! I shall not think of doing that," said the friend. And off -he ran and returned presently with seventy francs. This was a good -beginning. Gannot took it and put it with a grand flourish into his -pocket. - -"What are you doing?" asked his friend. - -"You will soon see." - -"I thought you said we were to halve it ..." - -"Later ... meanwhile it is six o'clock; let us go and have dinner." - -"How are we to dine?" - -"My dear fellow, decent folk must have their dinner and dine well in -order to give themselves fresh ideas." - -And Gannot took his way towards the Palais-Royal, accompanied by the -young man. When there, he entered the Frères-Provençaux. The youth -tried faintly to drag Gannot away by the arm, but the latter pinched -his hand tight as in a vice and the young man was obliged to follow. -Gannot chose the menu and dined valiantly, to the great uneasiness of -his friend; the more dainty the dishes the more he left on his plate -untasted. The future Mapah ate enough for both. The Rabelaisian quarter -of an hour arrived, and the bill came to thirty-five francs. Gannot -flung a couple of louis on the table. They were going to give him the -change. - -"Keep it--the five francs are for the waiter," he said. - -The young man shook his head sadly. - -"That is not the way," he muttered below his breath, "to pay my bill of -exchange." - -Gannot did not appear to notice either his murmurs or his headshakings. -They went out, Gannot walking in front, with a toothpick in his mouth; -the friend followed silently and gloomily, like some resigned victim. -When they reached _la Rolonde_, Gannot sat down, drew a chair within -his friend's reach, struck the marble table with the wood of the -framework that held the daily paper, ordered two cups of coffee, an -inn-full of assorted liqueurs and the best cigars they possessed. The -total amounted to five francs. There were then but twenty-five francs -left over from the seventy. Gannot put ten in his friend's hand and -restored the remaining fifteen to his pocket. - -"What now?" asked his friend. - -"Take the ten francs," replied Gannot; "go upstairs to that house you -see opposite, No. 113; be careful not to mistake the storey, whatever -you do!" - -"What is the house?" - -"It is a gambling-house." - -"I shall have to play, then?" - -"Of course you must! And at midnight, whatever your gains or losses, -bring them here. I shall be there." - -The young man had by this time reached such a pitch of utter exhaustion -that, if Gannot had told him to go and fling himself into the river, he -would have gone. He carried out Gannot's instructions to the letter. -He had never put foot in a gaming-house before; fortune, it is said, -favours the innocent beginner: he played and won. At a quarter to -twelve--for he had not forgotten the injunctions of the master for -whom he began to feel a sort of superstitious reverence--he went away -with his pockets full of gold and his heart bursting with joy. Gannot -was walking up and down the passage which led to the Perron, quietly -smoking his cigar. From the farthest distance when he first caught -sight of him, the youth shouted-- - -"Oh! my friend, such good luck! I have won fifteen hundred francs; when -my bill of exchange is paid I shall still have a thousand francs!... -Let me embrace you; I owe you my very life." - -Gannot gently checked him with his hand, and told him to moderate his -transports of gratitude. - -"Ah! now," he said, "we can indeed go and have a glass of punch, can we -not?" - -"A glass of punch? A bowl, my friend, two bowls! As much as ever you -like, and havanas _ad libitum!_ I am rich; when my bill of exchange is -paid, my watch redeemed, I shall still have ..." - -"You have told me all that before." - -"Upon my word, I am so pleased I cannot repeat it often enough, dear -friend!" And the young man gave himself up to shouts of immoderate joy, -whilst Gannot regally climbed the stairs which led to the Hollandais, -the only one left open after midnight. It was full. Gannot called for -the _waiters._ One waiter appeared. "I asked for _the waiters_," said -Gannot. He fetched three who were in the ice-house and they roused up -two who had already gone to bed--fifteen came in all. Gannot counted -them. - -"Good!" he said. "Now, waiters, go from table to table and ask the -gentlemen and ladies at them what they would like to take." - -"Then, monsieur ..." - -"I will pay for it!" Gannot replied, in lordly tones. - -The joke was acceded to and was, indeed, thought to be in very good -taste; only the friend laughed at the wrong side of his mouth as he -watched the consumption of liqueurs, coffee and glorias. Every table -was like a liquid volcano, with lava of punch flowing out of the middle -of its flames. The tables filled up again and the new arrivals were -invited by the amphitryon to choose whatever they liked from the carte; -ices, liqueurs, syphons of lemonade, everything, even to soda-water. -Finally, at three o'clock, when there was not a single glass of brandy -left in the establishment, Gannot called for the bill. It came to -eighteen hundred francs. What about the bill of exchange now?... The -young man, feeling more dead than alive, mechanically put his hand into -his pocket, although he knew very well that it did not contain more -than fifteen hundred francs; but Gannot opened his pocket-book and -pulled out two notes of a thousand francs, and blowing them apart-- - -"Here, waiters," he said, "the change is for your attendance." - -And, turning to his pupil, who was quite faint by this time, and who -had been nudging his arm the whole night or treading on his toes-- - -"Young man," he said to him, "I wanted to give you a little lesson.... -To teach you that a true gambler ought not to be astonished at his -winnings, and, above all, he should make bold use of them." With the -fifteen francs he had kept of his friend's money, he, too, had played, -and had won two thousand francs. We have seen how they were spent. This -was his miracle of the marriage of Cana. - -But, as may well be understood, this hazardous fortune-making had its -cruel reverses; Gannot's life was full of crises; he always lived at -extremes of excitement. More than once during this stormy existence -the darkest thoughts crossed his mind. To become another Karl Moor -or Jean Sbogar or Jaromir, he formed all kinds of dreadful plans. To -attack travellers by the highway and to fling on to the green baize -tables gold pieces stained with blood, was, during more than one fit -of despair, the dream of feverish nights and the terrible hope of his -morrows! - -"I went stumbling," he said, after his divinity had freed him from all -such gloomy human chimeras, "along the road of crime, knocking my head -here and there against the guillotine's edge; I had to go through all -these experiences; for from the lowest blackguard was to emerge the -first of reformers!" - -To the career of gambling he added another, less risky. Upon the -boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle, where he then lived, the passers-by might -observe a head as signpost. Upon its bald head some artist had painted -in blue and red the cerebral topography of the _talents, feelings_ -and _instincts_; this cabalistic head indicated that consultations -on phrenology were given within. Now, it is worth while to tell how -Gannot attained the zenith of the science of Gall and of Spurzheim. -He was the son of a hatter, and, when a child, had noticed in his -father's shop the many different shapes of the hands corresponding -to the diverse shapes of people's heads. He had thereupon originated -a system of phrenology of his own, which, later, he developed by a -superficial study of anatomy. Gannot was a doctor, or, more correctly -speaking, a sanitary inspector; what he had learnt occupied little room -in his memory, but, gifted as he was with fine and discerning tact, he -analysed, by means of a species of _clairvoyance_, the characters and -heads with which he had to deal. One day, when overwhelmed by a loss -of money at the gaming-table and seeing only destitution and despair -ahead of him, he had given way to dark resolutions, a fashionable and -beautiful young woman of wealth got down from her carriage, ascended -his stairs and knocked at his door. She came to ask the soothsayer to -tell her fortune by her head. Though a splendid creature, Gannot saw -neither her, nor her beauty, nor her troubles and wavering blushes; -she sat down, took off her hat, uncovered her lovely golden hair, and -let her head be examined by the phrenologist. The mysterious doctor -passed his hands carelessly through the golden waves. His mind was -elsewhere. There was nothing, however, more promising than the surfaces -and contours which his skilful hand discovered as he touched them. But, -when he came to the spot at the base of the skull which is commonly -called the nape, which savants call the organ of _amativity_, whether -she had seen Gannot previously or whether from instantaneous and -magnetic sympathy, the lady burst into tears and flung her arms round -the future Mapah's neck, exclaiming-- - -"Oh! I love you!" - -This was quite a new light in the life of this man. Until that time -Gannot had known women; he had not known woman. His life of mad -debauchery, of gambling, violent emotions, spent on the pavements -of the boulevards, and in the bars of houses of ill-fame, and among -the walks of the _bois_, was followed by one of retirement and love; -for he loved this beautiful unknown woman to distraction and almost -to madness. She was married. Often, after their hours of delirious -ecstacy, when the moment of parting had to come, when tears filled -their eyes and sobs their breasts, they plotted together the death of -the man who was the obstacle to their intoxicating passion; but they -got no further to the completion of crime than thinking of it. She -wished at least to fly with him; but, on the very day they had arranged -to take flight, she arrived at Gannot's house with a pocket-book full -of bank notes stolen from her husband. Gannot was horrified with the -theft and declined the money. Next day she returned with no other -fortune than the clothes she wore, not even a chain of gold round her -neck or a ring on her finger. And then he took her away. Complicated by -this fresh element in his life, he took his flight into more impossible -regions than ever before; his was the type of nature which is carried -away by all kinds of impulses. If the principle M. Guizot lays down -be true: "Bodies always fall on the side towards which they incline," -the Mapah was bound to fall some day or other, for he inclined to -many sides! Gambling and love admirably suited the instincts of that -eccentric life; but gambling--houses were closed! And the woman he -loved died! Then was it that the god was born in him from inconsolable -love and the suppressed passion for play. He was seized by illness, -during which the spirit of this dead woman visited him every night, -and revealed to him the doctrines of his new religion. Haunted by the -hallucinations of love and fever, Gannot listened to himself in the -voice which spoke within him. But he was no longer Gannot, he was -transfigured. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - - The god and his sanctuary--He informs the Pope of his - overthrow--His manifestoes--His portrait--Doctrine of - escape--Symbols of that religion--Chaudesaigues takes me to - the Mapah--Iswara and Pracriti--Questions which are wanting - in actuality--War between the votaries of _bidja_ and the - followers of _sakti_--My last interview with the Mapah - - -In 1840, in the old Ile Saint Louis which is lashed by bitter and angry -winds from the north and west, upon the coldest quay of that frigid -Thule--_terrarum ultima Thule_--on a dark and dingy ground-floor, in -a bare room, a man was moulding and casting in plaster. That man was -the one-time Gannot. The room served both as studio and school; pupils -came and took lessons in modelling there and to consult the _Mapah._ -This was the name, as we have already said, under which Gannot went in -his new existence. From this room was sent the first manifesto in which -_he who had been Gannot_ proclaimed his mission to the world. Who was -surprised by it? Pope Gregory XVI. certainly was, when he received, on -his sovereign throne, a letter dated _from our apostolic pallet-bed_, -which announced that his time was over; that, from henceforth, he was -to look upon himself as dethroned, and, in fact, that he was superseded -by another. This polite duty fulfilled with regard to his predecessor, -Gannot, in all simplicity, announced to his friends that they must -look upon him as the god of the future. Gannot had been the leader of -a certain school of thought for two or three years past; amongst his -followers were Felix Pyat, Thoré, Chaudesaigues, etc. etc. His sudden -transformation from Gannot to Mapah, his declaration to the Pope, -and his presumption in posing as a revealer, alienated his former -disciples; it was the _durus his sermo._ Nevertheless, he maintained -unshaken belief in himself and continued his sermons; but as these oral -sermons were insufficient and he thought it necessary to add to them a -printed profession of faith, one day he sold his wearing apparel and -converted the price of it into manifestoes of war against the religion -of Christ, which he distributed among his new disciples. - -After the sale of his wardrobe, the habits of the ci-devant lion -entirely disappeared, as his garments had done. In his transition from -Gannot to Mapah, everything that constituted the former man vanished: a -blouse replaced, for both summer and winter, the elegant clothes which -the past gambler used to wear; a grey felt hat covered his high and -finely-shaped forehead. But, seen thus, he was really beautiful: his -blue-grey eyes sparkled with mystic fire; his finely chiselled nose, -with its delicately defined outlines, was straight and pure in form; -his long flowing beard, bright gold coloured, fell to his chest; all -his features, as is usual with thinkers and visionaries, were drawn up -towards the top of his head by a sort of nervous tension; his hands -were white and fine and distinguished-looking, and, with a remnant -of his past vanity as a man of the world, he took particular care of -them; his gestures were not by any means without commanding power; -his language was eloquent, impassioned, picturesque and original. -The prophet of poverty, he had adopted its symbols; he became a -proletarian in order to reach the hearts of the lower classes; he -donned the working-man's blouse to convert the wearers of blouses. -The Mapah was not a simple god--he was a composite one; he was made -up of Saint Simon, of Fourier and of Owen. His chief dogma was the -extremely ancient one of Androgynism, _i.e._ the unity of the male and -female principle throughout all nature, and the unity of the man and -the woman in society. He called his religion EVADISME, _i.e._ (Eve and -Adam); himself he called MAPAH, from _mater_ and _pater_; and herein -he excelled the Pope, who had never even in the palmiest days of the -papacy, not even under Gregory VII., been anything more than the father -of Christians, whilst he was both father and mother of humanity. In his -system people had not to take simply the name of their father, but the -first syllable of their mother's name combined with the first syllable -of that of their father. Once the Mapah addressed himself thus to his -friend Chaudesaigues-- - -"What is your name?" - -"Chaudesaigues." - -"What does that come from?" - -"It is my father's name." - -"Have you then killed your mother, wretched man?" - -Chaudesaigues lowered his head: he had no answer to give to that. - -In Socialism Mapah's doctrine was that of dissent. According to him -assassins, thieves and smugglers were the living condemnation of the -moral order against which they were rebelling. Schiller's _Brigands_ he -looked upon as the most complete development of his theory to be found -in the world. Once he went to a home for lost women and collected them -together, as he had once collected the waiters of the Hollandais in the -days of his worldly folly; then, addressing the poor creatures who were -waiting with curiosity, wondering who this sultan could be who wanted a -dozen or more wives at a time-- - -"Mesdemoiselles," he said, "do you know what you are?" - -"Why, we are prostitutes," the girls all replied together. - -"You are wrong," said the Mapah; "you are Protestants." And in words -which were not without elevation and vividness, he expounded to them -the manner in which they, poor girls, protested against the privileges -of respectable women. It need hardly be said that, as this doctrine -spread, it led to some disquietude in the minds of magistrates, who had -not attained the heights of the new religion, but were still plunged in -the darkness of Christianity. Two or three times they brought the Mapah -before the examining magistrates and threatened him with a trial; but -the Mapah merely shook his blouse with his fine nervous hand, as the -Roman ambassador used to shake his toga. - -"Imprison me, try me, condemn me," he said; "I shall not appeal from -the lower to a higher tribunal; I shall appeal from Pilate to the -People!" - -And, in fact, whether they stood in awe of his beard, his blouse or his -speech, which was certainly captivating; whether they were unable to -arrive at a decision as to what court the new religion should be judged -at--police court or Court of Assizes--they left the Mapah in peace. - -The most enthusiastic of the Evadian apostles was _he who was once -Caillaux,_ who published the _Arche de la nouvelle alliance._ He was -the Mapah's Saint John; the _Arche de la nouvelle alliance_ was the -gospel which told the passion of Humanity to whose rescue the Christ of -the Ile Saint Louis was come. We will devote a chapter to that gospel. -The Mapah himself wrote nothing, except two or three manifestoes issued -from his _apostolic pallet_, in which he announced his apostolate -to the modern world; he did nothing but pictures and plaster-casts -that looked like originals dug out of a temple of Isis. Taking his -_religion_ back to its source, he showed by his _twofold symbolism_, -how it had developed from age to age, fertilising the whole of nature, -till, finally, it culminated in himself. The whole of the history was -written in hieroglyphic signs, had the advantage of being able to be -read and expounded by everybody and treated of Buddhism, Paganism and -Christianity before leading up to Evadism. In the latter years of the -reign of Louis-Philippe, the Mapah sent his allegorical pictures and -symbols in plaster to the members of the Chamber of Deputies and to -the Royal Family; it will be readily believed that the members of the -Chamber and royal personages left these lithographs and symbols in the -hands of their ushers and lackeys, with which to decorate their own -attics. The Mapah trembled for their fate. - -"They scoff," he said in prophecy: "MANÉ, THÉCEL, PHARÈS; evil fortune -will befall them!" - -What did happen to them we know. - -One day Chaudesaigues--poor honest fellow, who died long before his -time, which I shall speak of in its place--proposed to take me to the -Mapah, and I accepted. He recognised me, as he had once dined or taken -supper with me in the days when he was Gannot; and he had preserved -a very clear memory of that meeting; he was very anxious at once to -acquaint me with his symbolic figures, and to initiate me, like the -Egyptian proselytes, into his most secret mysteries. Now, I had, by -chance, just been studying in earnest the subjects of the early ages -of the world and its great wars, which apparently devastated those -primitive times without seeming reason; I was, therefore, in a measure, -perfectly able not only to understand the most obscure traditions of -the religion of the Mapah, but also to explain them to others, which I -will now endeavour to do here. - -At the period when the Celts had conquered India, that ancestor of -Egyptian, Greek and Roman civilisations, they found a complete system -of physical and metaphysical sciences already established; Atlantic -cosmogony related to absolute unity, and, according to it, everything -emanated from one single principle, called _Iswara_, which was purely -spiritual. But soon the Indian savants perceived with fear, that -this world, which they had looked upon for long as the product of -absolute _unity_, was incontestably that of a combined _duality._ -They might have looked upon these two principles, as did the first -Zoroaster a long time after them, as _principiés_--_i.e._ as the -son and daughter of Iswara, thus leaving the ancient Iswara his old -position, by supporting him on a double column of creating beings, -as we see a Roman general being carried raised up on two shields by -his soldiers; but they wished to divide these two principles into -_principiant_ principles; they therefore satisfied themselves by -joining a fresh principle to that of Iswara, by mating Iswara with -_Pracriti_, or nature. This explained everything. Pracriti possessed -the _sakti_--_i.e._ the conceptive power, and the old Iswara was the -_bidja_ or generative power. - -I think, up to now, I have been as clear as possible, and I mean to try -to continue my explanations with equal lucidity; which will not be an -easy matter seeing that (and I am happy to give my reader due warning -of it) we are dealing only with pure science, of which fact he might -not be aware. - -This early discovery of the Indian savants, which resulted in the -marriage of Iswara with Pracriti, led to the consideration of the -universe as the product of two principles, each possessing its own -peculiar function of the male and female qualities. Iswara and Pracriti -stood for Adam and Eve to the whole of the universe, not simply for -humanity. This system, remarkable by its very simplicity, which -attracted men by giving to all that surrounded him an origin similar -to his own, is to be found amongst most races, which received it from -the Hindus. Sanchoniathon calls his male principle _Hypsistos_, the -Most High, and his female principle _Berouth_, nature; the Greeks call -this male principle _Saturn_, and their female principle _Rhea_; both -one and the other correspond to Iswara and Pracriti. All went well for -several centuries; but the mania for controversy is innate in man, and -it led to the following questions, which the Hindu savants propounded, -and which provoked the struggle of half the human race against the -other. - -"Since," say the controversials, "the universe is the result of two -_principiant_ powers, one acting with male, the other with female -qualities, must we then consider the relations that they bear to one -another? Are they independent one of the other? are they pre-existent -to matter and contemporaneous with eternity? Or ought we rather to look -upon one of them as the procreative cause of its companion? If they -are independent, how came they to be reunited? Was it by some coercive -force? If so, what divinity of greater power than themselves exercised -that pressure upon them? Was it by sympathy? Why, then, did it not act -either earlier or later? If they are not independent of one another, -which of the two is to be under subjection to the other? Which is -first in order of antiquity or of power? Did Iswara produce Pracriti -or Pracriti Iswara? Which of them acts with the greatest energy and is -the most necessary to the procreation of inanimate things and animate -beings? Which should be called first in the sacrifices made to them or -in the hymns addressed to them? Ought the worship offered them to be -combined or separated? Ought men and women to raise separate altars to -them or one for both together?"[1] - -These questions, which have divided the minds of millions of men, -which have caused rivers of blood to flow, nowadays sound idle and -even absurd to our readers, who hear Hindu religion spoken of as mere -mythology, and India as some far-off planet; but, at the time of -which we are now speaking, the Indian Empire was the centre of the -civilised world and master of the known world. These questions, then, -were of the highest importance. They circulated quietly in the empire -at first, but soon each one collected quite a large enough number -of partisans for the religious question to appear under a political -aspect. The supreme priesthood, which at first had begun by holding -itself aloof from all controversy, sacrificed equally to Iswara -and to Pracriti--to the _generative_ power and to the _conceptive -power_: sacerdotalism, which had long remained neutral between the -_bidja_ and the _sakti_ principles, was compelled to decide, and as -it was composed of men--that is to say of the _generative power_, it -decided in favour of _males_, and proclaimed the dominance of the -masculine sex over the feminine. This decision was, of course, looked -upon as tyrannical by the Pracritists, that is, the followers of the -_conceptive power_ theory; they revolted. Government rose to suppress -the revolution and, hence, the declaration of civil war. Figure to -yourselves upon an immense scale, in an empire of several hundreds of -millions of men, a war similar to that of the Albigenses, the Vaudois -or the Protestants. Meantime two princes of the reigning dynasty,[2] -both sons of King Ongra, the oldest called Tarak'hya, the youngest -Irshou, divided the Indian Empire between them, less from personal -conviction than to make proselytes. One took _bija_ for his standard, -the other took _sakti._ The followers of each of these two symbols -rallied at the same time under their leaders, and India had a political -and civil and religious war; Irshou, the younger of the two brothers, -having positively declared that he had broken with sacerdotalism and -intended to worship the feminine or conceptive faculty, as the first -cause in the universe, according priority to it and pre-eminence over -the generative or masculine faculty. A political war can be ended -by a division of territory; a religious war is never-ending. Sects -exterminate one another and yet are not convinced. A deadly, bitter, -relentless war, then, ravaged the empire. As Irshou represented popular -opinion and the Socialism of the time, and his army was largely -composed of herdsmen, they called his followers the _pallis_, that is -to say, shepherds, from the Celtic word _pal_, which means shepherd's -crook. Irshou was defeated by Tarak'hya, and driven back as far as -Egypt. The Pallis there became the stock from which those primitive -dynasties sprang which lasted for two hundred and sixty-one years, -and are known as the dynasties of Shepherd Kings. The etymology this -time is palpably evident; therefore, let us hope we shall not meet -with any contradiction on this head. Now, we have stated that Irshou -took as his standard the symbol which represented the divinity he had -worshipped; that sign, in Sanscrit, was called _yoni_, from whence is -derived _yoneh_--which means a dove--this explains, we may point out -in passing, why the dove became the bird of Venus. The men who wore -the badge of the yoni were called Yoniens, and, as they always wore it -symbolically depicted on a red flag, red or purple became, at Tyre and -Sidon and in Greece, the royal colour, and was adopted by the consuls -and emperors and popes of Rome and, finally, by all reigning princes, -no matter what race they were descended from or what religion they -professed. My readers may assume that I am rather pleased to be able to -teach kings the derivation of their purple robes. - -Well, then, it was on account of his studying these great questions of -dispute, which had lasted more than two thousand years and had cost a -million of men's lives; it was from fear lest they should be revived in -our days that the philanthropic Gannot endeavoured to found a religion, -under the title of Evadism which was to reunite these two creeds into -a single one. To that end were his strange figures moulded in plaster -and the eccentric lithographs that he designed and executed upon -coloured paper, with the earnestness of a Brahmin disciple of _bidja_ -or an Egyptian adherent of _sakti._[3] - -The joy of the Mapah can be imagined when he found I was acquainted -with the primitive dogmas of his religion and with the disasters which -the discussion of those doctrines had brought with them. He offered me -the position of his chief disciple, on the spot, in place of _him who -had once been Caillaux_; but I have ever been averse to usurpation, -and had no intention of devoting myself to a principle, by my example, -which, some day or other, I should be called upon to oppose. The Mapah -next offered to abdicate in my favour and himself be my head disciple. -The position did not seem to me sufficiently clearly defined, in the -face of both spiritual and temporal powers, to accept that offer, -fascinating though it was. I therefore contented myself with carrying -away from the Mapah's studio one of the most beautiful specimens of the -_bidja_ and _sakti_, promising to exhibit them in the most conspicuous -place in my sitting-room, which I took good care not to do, and then I -departed. I did not see the Mapah again until after the Revolution of -24 February, when, by chance, I met him in the offices of the _Commune -de Paris_, where I went to ask for the insertion of an article on -exiles in general, and those of the family of Orléans in particular. -The article had been declined by the chief editor of the _Liberté_, M. -Lepoitevin-Saint-Alme. The revolution predicted by Gannot had come. I -expected, therefore, to find him overwhelmed with delight; and, as a -matter of fact, he did praise the three days of February, but with a -faint voice and dulled feelings; he seemed to be singularly enfeebled -by that strange and sensual mysticism, which presented every event to -his mind in dogmatic form. The lines of the upper part of his face were -more deeply drawn towards his prominent forehead, and his whole person -bespoke the visionary in whom the hallucination of being a god had -degenerated into a disease. - -He defined the terror of the middle classes at the events of 24 -February and Socialistic doctrines as, "the frantic terror of the pig -which feels the cold edge of the knife at its throat." His latter -years were sad and gloomy; he ended by doubting himself. _Eli, Eli, -lama sabachthani!_ rang in his aching and disillusioned heart like a -death-knell. During the last year of his life his only pupil was an -Auvergnat, a seller of chestnuts in a passage-way.... And to him the -dying god bequeathed the charge of spreading his doctrines. This event -took place towards the beginning of the year 1851. - - -[1] The Abbé d'Olivet, _État social de l'homme._ - -[2] See the _Scanda-Pousana_ and the _Brahmanda_ for the details of -this war. - -[3] In Sanscrit _linga_ and _yoni_; in Greek _ϕαλλος_ and _χοίρος._ - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - - Apocalypse of the being who was once called Caillaux - - -We said a few words of the apostle of Mapah and promised to follow him -to his isle of Patmos and to give some idea of his apocalypse. We will -keep our word. It was no easy matter to find this apocalypse, my reader -may judge; it had been published at the trouble and expense of Hetzel, -under the title of _Arche de la nouvelle Alliance._ Not that Hetzel was -in the very least a follower of the Evadian religion--he was simply -the compatriot and friend of _him who was Caillaux_, to which twofold -advantages he owed the honour of dining several times with the god -Mapah and his disciple. It is more than likely that Hetzel paid for the -dinners himself. - - ARCHE DE LA NOUVELLE ALLIANCE - - "I have not come to say to the people, 'Render to Cæsar - the things that are Cæsar's and to God the things that are - God's,' but I have come to tell Cæsar to render to God - the things that belong to God! 'What is God?--God, is the - People!--The _Mapah._' At the hour when shadows deepen I saw - the vision of the last apostle of a decaying religion and I - exclaimed-- - - I - - "'Why dost thou grieve, O king! and why dost thou moan over - thy ruined crown? Why rise up against those who dethroned - thee? If thou fallest to-day, it is because thy hour has - come: to attempt to prolong it for a day, is but to offer - insult to the Majesty in the heavens. - - II - - "'Everything that exists here below has it not its phases of - life and of death? Does the vegetation of the valleys always - flourish? After the season of fine days does it not come to - pass that some morning the autumn wind scatters the leaves - of the beeches? - - III - - "'Cease, then, O King! thy lamentation and do not be - perturbed in thy loneliness! Be not surprised if thy road is - deserted and if the nations keep silence during thy passing - as at the passing of a funeral cortège: thou hast not failed - in thy mission; simply, thy mission is done. It is destiny! - - IV - - "'Dost thou not know that humanity only lives in the future? - What does the present care about the oriflamme of Bouvines? - Let us bury it with thy ancestors lying motionless beneath - their monuments; another banner is needed for the men of - to-day. - - V - - "'And when we have sealed with a triple seal the stone - which covers up past majesty, let us do obeisance as did - the people of Memphis before the silence of their pyramids, - those mute giants of the desert; but like them do not let us - remain with our foreheads in the dust, but from the ruins of - ancient creeds let us spring upwards towards the Infinite! - Thus did I sing during the dawn of my life. A poet, I have - ever pitied noble misfortune; as son of the people, I have - never abjured renown. At that time this world appeared to - me to be free and powerful under heaven, and I believed - that the last salute of the universe to the phantom of - ancient days would be its first aspiration towards future - splendours. But it was nothing of the kind. The past, whilst - burying itself under the earth, had not drawn all its - procession of dark shades with it. Now I went to those bare - strands which the ocean bleaches with its foam. The seagulls - hailed the rocks of the coast with their harsh cries, and - the mighty voice of the sea sounded more sweetly to my ear - than the language of men ...'" - -Then follows the apostle's feelings under the influence of the great -aspects of Nature; he stays a year far from Paris; then at last his -vocation recalls him among men. - - "Now, the very night of my return from my wanderings, I - walked a dreamer in the midst of the roar of that great - western city, my soul more than ever crushed beneath - the weight of its ruin. I beheld myself as during my - happiest years when I was full of confidence in God and - the future; and then I turned my glance upon myself, the - man of the present moment, for ever tossed between hope - and fear, between desire and remorse, between calm and - discouragement. When I had well contemplated myself thus, - and had by thought stirred up the mud of the past and had - considered the good and evil that had emanated from me, I - raised in inexpressible anger my fist towards heaven, and - I said to God: 'To whom, then, does this earth belong?' At - the same moment, I felt myself hustled violently, and by - an irresistible movement I lowered my arm to strike--in - striking the cheek of him who was jostling me, I felt I was - smiting the world. Oh! what a surprise! my hand, instead of - beating his face, encountered his hand; a loving pressure - drew us together, and in grave and solemn tones he said: - 'The water, the air, the earth and fire belong to none--they - are God's!' Then, uncovering the folds of the garment - which covered my breast, he put a finger on my heart and a - brilliant flame leapt out and I felt relief. Overcome with - amazement, I exclaimed-- - - "'Who art thou, whose word strengthens and whose touch - regenerates?' - - 'Thou shalt know, this very night!' he replied, and went on - his way. - - "I followed and examined him at leisure: he was a man of the - people, with a crooked back and powerful limbs; an untrimmed - beard fell over his breast, and his bare and nearly bald - head bore witness to hard work and rude passions. He carried - a sack of plaster on his back which bowed him down beneath - its weight. Thus bent he passed through the crowd...." - -The disciple then followed the god; for this man who had comforted him -was the Mapah; he followed him to the threshold of his studio, into -which he disappeared. It was the same studio to which Chaudesaigues had -taken me, on the quai Bourbon, in the Ile Saint Louis. The door of the -studio soon reopened and the apostle entered and was present at the -revelation, which the Mapah had promised him. But, first of all, there -was the discovery of the Mapah himself. - - "Meanwhile, the owner of this dwelling had none of the - bearing of a common working-man. He was, indeed, the man of - the sack of plaster, and the uncut beard, and torn blouse, - who had accosted me in such an unexpected fashion; he had - exactly the same powerful glance, the same breadth of - shoulders, the same vigorous loins, but on that furrowed - brow, and in those granite features and that indescribable - personality of the man there hovered a rude dignity before - which I bowed my head. - - "I advanced towards my host, who was laid on a half-broken - bed, lighted up by a night lamp in a pot of earth. I said-- - - "'Master, you whose touch heals and whose words restore, who - are you?' - - "Lifting his eyes to me, he replied simply, 'There is no - master now; we are all children of God: call me brother.' - - "'Then,' I replied, 'Brother, who then are you?' - - "'I am _he who is._ Like the shepherd on the tops of the - cliffs I have heard the cry of the multitude; it is like - the moan of the waves at the winter equinox; that cry has - pierced my heart and I have come.' - - "Motioning me to come nearer, he went on-- - - "'Son of doubt, who art sowing sorrow and reaping anguish, - what seekest thou? The sun or darkness? Death or life? Hope - or the grave?' - - "'Brother, I seek after truth,' I replied. 'I have hailed - the past, I have questioned its abysmal depths whence came - the rumours that had reached me: the past was deaf to my - cries.' - - "'The past was not to hear you. Every age has had its own - prophets, and each country its monuments; but prophets - and monuments have vanished like shadows: what was life - yesterday is to-day but death. Do not then evoke the past, - let it fall asleep in the darkness of its tombs in the dust - of its solitary places.' - - "I went on--'I questioned the present amidst the flashes and - deceptions of this century, but it did not hear me either.' - - "'The present was not to hear you; its flashes do but - precede the storm, and its law is not the law of the future.' - - "'Brother, what then is this law? What are the showers that - make it blossom, and what sun sheds light upon it?' - - "'God will teach thee.' - - "Pointing to me to be seated near to him, he added: - - 'Sit down and listen attentively, for I will declare the - truth unto you. I am he who crieth to the people, "Watch at - the threshold of your dwelling and sleep not: the hour of - revelation is at hand ..."' - - "At that moment the earth trembled, a hurricane beat against - the window panes, belfries rang of themselves; the disciple - would fain flee, but fear riveted him to the master's side. - He continued-- - - "I foreboded that something strange would take place before - me, and indeed as the knell of the belfry rang out on the - empty air, a song which had no echo in mortal tongue, - abrupt, quick and laden with indefinable mockery, answered - him from under the earth, and rising from note to note, - from the deepest to the shrillest tones, it resounded and - rebounded like some wounded snake, and grated like a saw - being sharpened; finally, ever decreasing, ever-growing - feebler, until it was lost at last in space. And this is the - burden of the song-- - - "'Behold the year '40, the famous year '40 has come! Ah! - ah! ah! What will it bring forth? What will it produce? An - ox or an egg? Perhaps one, perhaps the other! ah! ah! ah! - Peasants turn up your sleeves! And you wealthy, sweep your - hearthstones. Make way, make way for the year '40! The year - '40 is cold and hungry and in need of food; and no wonder! - Its teeth chatter, its limbs shiver, its children have - no shoes, and its daughters possess not even a ribbon to - adorn their locks on Sunday; they have not even a beggarly - dime lying idle in their poverty-stricken pockets to buy - drink wherewith to refresh themselves and their lovers! Ah! - ah! what wretchedness! Were it not too dreadful it would - seem ludicrous. Did you come here, gossip, to see this - topsy-turvy world? Come quickly, there is room for all.... - Stay, you raven looking in at the window, and that vulture - beating its wings. Ah! ah! ah! The year '40 is cold, is an - hungered, in need of food! What will it bring forth ...?' - - "And the song died away in the distance, and mingled with - the murmur of the wind which was wailing without.... - - "Then began the apparitions. There were twelve of them, all - livid and weighted with chains and bleeding, each holding - its dissevered head in its hand, each wrapped in a shroud, - green with the moss of its sepulchre, each carrying in front - of it the mark of the twelve great passions, the mystic - link which unites man to the Creator. They advanced as some - dark shadow of night falls upon the mountains. It was one - of those terrifying groups, which one sees in the days of - torment, in the midst of the cross-roads of the seething - city; the citizens question one another by signs, and ask - each other-- - - "'Do you see those awful faces down there? Who on earth are - those men, and how come they to wander spectre-like among - the excited crowd?' - - "And on the head of the one who walked first, like that of - an over-thrown king, so splendid was its pallor and its - regal lips scornful, a crown of fire was burning with this - word written in letters of blood, '_Lacenairisme!_' Dumb - and led by the figure who seemed to be their king, the - phantoms grouped themselves in a semi-circle at the foot of - the dilapidated bed, as though at the foot of some seat of - justice; and _he who is_, after fixing his earnest glance - upon them for some moments questioned them in the following - terms-- - - "'Who are you?' - - "'Sorrow's elect, apostles of hunger.' - - "'Your names?' - - "'A mysterious letter.' - - "'Whence come you?' - - "'From the shades.' - - "'What do you demand?' - - "'Justice.' - - "The echoes repeated, 'Justice!' - - "And at a signal from their king, the phantoms intoned a - ringing hymn in chorus ..." - - It had a kind of awful majesty in it, a sort of grand - terror, but we will reserve our space for other quotations - which we prefer to that. The apostle resumed-- - - "The pale phantoms ceased, their lips became motionless and - frozen, and round the accursed brows of these lost children - of the grave, there seemed to hover indistinctly the bloody - shadow of the past. Suddenly from the base to the top of - this mysterious ladder issued a loud sound, and fresh faces - appeared on the threshold.... A red shirt, a coarse woollen - cap, a poor pair of linen trousers soiled with sweat and - powder; at the feet was a brass cannon-ball, in its hands - were clanking chains; these accoutrements stood for the - symbols of all kinds of human misfortunes. As if they had - been called up by their predecessors, they entered and bowed - amicably to them. I noticed that each face bore a look - of unconcern and of defiance, each carefully hid a rusty - dagger beneath its vestments, and on their shoulders they - bore triumphantly a large chopping-block still dyed with - dark stains of blood. And on this block leant a man with - a drunken face and tottering legs, grotesquely supporting - himself on the worn-out handle of an axe. And this man, - gambolling and gesticulating, mumbled in a nasal tone, a - kind of lament with this refrain-- - - "'Voici l'autel et le bedeau! - À sa barbe faisons l'orgie; - Jusqu'à ce que sur notre vie, - Le diable tire le rideau, - Foin de l'autel et du bedeau!' - - "And his companions took up the refrain in chorus to the - noise of their clashing chains. Which perceiving _he who is_ - spread his hands over the dreadful pageant. There took place - a profound silence; then he said-- - - "'My heart, ocean of life, of grief and of love, is the - great receptacle of the new alliance into which fall its - tears and sweat and blood; and by the tears which have - watered, by the sweat which has dropped, by the blood which - has become fertile, be blessed, my brothers, executed - persons, convicts and sufferers, and hope--the hour of - revelation is at hand!' - - 'What!' I exclaimed in horror; 'hast thou come to preach the - sword?' - - 'I do not come to preach it but to give the word for it.' - - "And _he who is_ replied-- - - "'Passions are like the twelve great tables of the law of - laws, LOVE. They are when in unison the source of all good - things; when subverted they are the source of all evils.' - - "Silence again arose, and he added-- - - "'Each head that falls is one letter of a verb whose - meaning is not yet understood, but whose first word stands - for protestation; the last, signifies integral passional - expansion. The axe is a steel; the head of the executed, - a flint; the blood which spurts from it, the spark; and - society a powder-horn!' - - "Silence was renewed, and he went on a third time-- - - "'The prison is to modern society what the circus was to - ancient Rome: the slave died for individual liberty; in our - day, the convict dies for passional integral liberty.' - - "And again silence reigned, but after a while a mild - Voice from on high said to the sorry cortège which stood - motionless at one corner of the pallet-bed--- - - "'Have hope, ye poor martyrs! Hope! for the hour - approaches!'" - - "Then three noble figures came forward--those of the - mechanic, the labourer and the soldier. The first was - hungry: they fought with him for the bread he had earned. - The second was both hungry and cold; they haggled for the - corn he had sown and the wood he had cut down. The third - had experienced every kind of human suffering; furthermore, - he had hoped and his hope had withered away, and he was - reproached for the blood that had been shed. All three - bore the history of their lives on their countenances; all - felt ill at ease in the present and were ready to question - God concerning His doings; but as the hour approached and - their cry was about to rise to the Eternal, a spectre rose - up from the limbs of the past: his name was _Duty._ Before - him they recoiled affrighted. A priest went before them, - his form wrapped in burial clothes; he advanced slowly with - lowered eyes. Strange contrast! He dreamed of the heavens - and yet bent low towards the earth! On his breast was the - inscription: _Christianity!_ Beneath: _Resignation._ - - "'Here they come! Behold them!' cried the apostle; they are - advancing to _him who is._ What will be the nature of their - speech and how will they express themselves in his presence? - Will their complaint be as great as their sadness? Not so, - their uncertainty is too great for them to dare to formulate - their thoughts: besides, doubt is their real feeling. - Perhaps, some day, they may speak out more freely. Let us - listen respectfully to the hymn that falls from their lips; - it is solemnly majestic, but less musical than the breeze - and less infinite than the Ocean. Hear it-- - - HYMNE - - "Du haut de l'horizon, du milieu des nuages - Où l'astre voyageur apparut aux trois rois, - Des profondeurs du temple où veillent tes images, - O Christ! entends-tu notre voix? - Si tu contemples la misère - De la foule muette au pied de tes autels, - Une larme de sang doit mouiller ta paupière. - Tu dois te demander, dans ta douleur austère, - S'il est des dogmes éternels!" - - - LE PRÊTRE - - "O Christ! j'ai pris longtemps pour un port salutaire - Ta maison, dont le toit domine les hauts lieux; - Et j'ai voulu cacher au fond du sanctuaire, - Comme sous un bandeau, mon front tumultueux." - - - LE SOLDAT - - "O Christ! j'ai pris longtemps pour une noble chaîne - L'abrutissant lien que je traîne aujourd'hui; - Et j'ai donné mon sang à la cause incertaine - De cette égalité dont l'aurore avait lui." - - - LE LABOUREUR - - "O Christ! j'ai pris longtemps pour une tâche sainte - La rude mission confiée à mes bras, - Et j'ai, pendant vingt ans, sans repos et sans plainte, - Laissé sur les sillons la trace de mes pas." - - - L'OUVRIER - - "O Christ! j'ai pris longtemps pour œuvre méritoire - Mes longs jours consumés dans un labeur sans fin; - Et, maintes fois, de peur d'outrager ta mémoire, - J'ai plié ma nature aux douleurs de la faim." - - - LE PRÊTRE - - "La foi n'a pas rempli mon âme inassouvie!" - - - LE SOLDAT - - "L'orage a balayé tout le sang répandu!" - - - LE LABOUREUR - - "Où je semais le grain, j'ai récolté l'ortie!" - - - L'OUVRIER - - "Hier, J'avais un lit mon maître l'a vendu!" - - "Silence! Has the night wind borne away their prayer on its - wings? or have their voices ceased to question the heavens? - Are they perchance comforted? Who can tell? God keeps the - enigma in His own mighty hands, the terrible enigma held - aloft over the borders of two worlds--the present and the - future. But they will not be forsaken on their way where - doubt assails them, where resignation fells them. Children - of God, they shall have their share of life and of sunshine. - God loves those who seek after Him.... Then the priest and - soldier and artizan and labourer gave place to others, and - the apostle went on-- - - "And after two women, one of whom was dazzlingly and boldly - adorned, and the other mute and veiled, there followed a - procession in which the grotesque was mingled with the - terrible, the fantastic with the real; all moved about the - room together, which seemed suddenly to grow larger to make - space for this multitude, whilst the retiring spectres, - giving place to the newcomers, grouped themselves silently - at a little distance from their formidable predecessors. - And _he who is_, preparing to address a speech to the fresh - arrivals, one of their number, whom I had not at first - noticed, came forward to answer in the name of his acolytes. - Upon the brow of this interpreter, square built, with - shining and greedy lips and on his glistening hungry lips, I - read in letters of gold the word _Macairisme!_ - - "And _he who is_ said-- - - "'Who are you?' - - "'The favourites of luxury, the apostles of joy.' - - "'Whence come you?' - - "'From wealth.' - - "'Where do you go?' - - "'To pleasure.' - - "'What has made you so well favoured?' - - "'Infamy.' - - "'What makes you so happy?' - - "'Impunity.'" - -The strange procession which then unfolded itself before the apostle's -eyes can be imagined: first the dazzling woman in the bold attire, -the prostitute; the mute, veiled woman was the adulteress; then came -stock-jobbers, sharpers, business men, bankers, usurers,--all that -class of worms, reptiles and serpents which are spawned in the filth of -society. - - "One twirled a great gold snuff-box between his fingers, - upon the lid of which were engraved these words: _Powdered - plebeian patience_; and he rammed it into his nostrils with - avidity. Another was wrapped in the folds of a great cloak - which bore this inscription: _Cloth cut from the backs - of fools._ A third, with a narrow forehead, yellow skin - and hollow cheeks, was leaning lovingly upon his abdomen, - which was nothing less than an iron safe, his two hands, - the fingers of which were so many great leeches, twisting - and opening their gaping tentacles, as though begging for - food. Several of the figures had noses like the beaks of - vultures, between their round and wild eyes: noses which - cut up with disgusting voracity a quarter of carrion held - at arm's length by a chain of massive gold, resembling - those which shine on the breasts of the grand dignitaries - of various orders of chivalry. In the middle of all was one - who shone forth in brilliant pontifical robes, with a mitre - on his head shaped like a globe, sparkling with emeralds - and rubies. He held a crozier in one hand upon which he - leant, and a sword in the other, which seemed at a distance - to throw out flames; but on nearer approach the creaking of - bones was heard beneath the vestments, and the figure turned - out to be only a skeleton painted, and the sword and the - crozier were but of fragile glass and rotten wood. Finally, - above this seething, deformed indescribable assembly, there - floated a sombre banner, a gigantic oriflamme, a fantastic - labarum, the immense folds of which were being raised by - a pestilential whistling wind; and on this banner, which - slowly and silently unfurled like the wings of a vulture, - could be read, _Providential Pillories._ And the whole - company talked and sang, laughed and wept, gesticulated - and danced and performed innumerable artifices. It was - bewildering! It was fearful!" - -Here followed the description of a kind of revel beside which _Faust's_ -was altogether lacking in imagination. But, when he thought they had -all talked, sung, laughed, wept, gesticulated and danced long enough, -_he who is_ made a sign and all those voices melted into but two -voices, and all the figures into but two, and all the heads into but -two. And two human forms appeared side by side, looking down at their -feet, which were of clay. Then, suddenly, out of the clay came forth -a seven-headed hydra and each of its heads bore a name. The first was -called Pride; the second, Avarice; the third, Luxury; the fourth, -Envy; the fifth, Gluttony; the sixth, Anger; the seventh, Idleness. -And, standing up to its full height, this frightful hydra, with its -thousand folds, strangled the writhing limbs of the colossus, which -struggled and howled and uttered curses and lamentations towards the -heavens: each of the seven jaws of the monster impressed horrible bites -in his flesh, one in his forehead, another in his heart, another in his -belly, another in his mouth, another in his flanks and another in his -arms. - - "'Behold the past!' said _he who is._ - - "'Brother,' I cried, 'and what shall then the future be - like?' - - "'Look,' he said. The hydra had disappeared and the two - human forms were defined again, intertwined, full of - strength and majesty and love against the light background - of the hovel, and the feet of the colossus were changed - into marble of the most dazzling whiteness. When I had - well contemplated this celestial form, _he who is_ again - held out his hands and it vanished, and the studio became - as it was a few moments previously. The three great orders - of our visitors were still there, but calm now and in holy - contemplation. Then _he who is_ said-- - - "'Whoever you may be, from whatever region you come, from - sadness or pleasure, from a splendid east or the dull west, - you are welcome brothers, and to all I wish good days, good - years! To the murdered and convicts, brothers! innocent - protestors, gladiators of the circus, living thermometers - of the falsity of social institutions, Hope! the hour of - your restoration is at hand!... And you poor prostitutes, - my sisters! beautiful diamonds, bespattered with mud and - opprobrium, Hope! the hour of your transformation is - approaching!... To you, adulteresses, my sisters, who weep - and lament in your domestic prison, fair Christs of love - with tarnished brows, Hope! the hour of liberty is near!... - To you, poor artisans, my brothers, who sweat for the master - who devours you, who eat the scraps of bread he allows - you, when he does leave you any, in agony and torments for - the morrow! What ought you to become? Everything! What are - you now? Nothing! Hope and listen: Oppression is impious; - resignation is blasphemy!... To you, poor labouring men and - farmers, brothers, who toil for the landlord, sow and reap - the corn for the landlord of which he leaves you only the - bran, Hope! the time for bread whiter than snow is coming! - ... To you, poor soldiers, my brothers, who fertilise the - great furrow of humanity with your blood, Hope! the hour - for eternal peace is at hand!... And you, poor priests, my - brothers, who lament beneath your frieze robes and heat your - foreheads at the sides of your altars! Hope! the hour of - toleration is at hand!' - - "After a moment's silence, _he who is_ went on-- - - "'I not forget you, either, you the happy ones of the - century, those elected for joy. You, too, have your mission - to fulfil; it is a holy one, for from the glutted body of - the old world will issue the transformed universe of the - future.... Be welcome, then, brothers; good wishes to you - all!' - - "Then all those who were present, who had listened to him, - departed from the garret in silence, filled with hope; and - their footsteps echoed on the steps of the interminably long - staircase. And the same cry which had already rung in my - ears resounded a second time--'The year '40 is cold, it is - hungry! The year '40 needs food! What will it bring forth? - What will it produce? Ah! ah! ah!' - - "I turned to _him who is._ The night had not run a third of - its course, and the flame of the lamp still burnt in its - yellow fount, and I exclaimed-- - - "'Brother! in whose name wilt thou relieve all these - miseries?' - - "'In the name of my mother, the great mother who was - crucified!' replied _he who is._ - - "He continued: 'At the beginning all was well and all women - were like the one single woman, _Eve_, and all men like one - single man, _Adam_, and the reign of _Eve and Adam_, or of - primitive unity, flourished in Eden, and harmony and love - were the sole laws of this world.' - - "He went on: 'Fifty years ago appeared a woman who was more - beautiful than all others--her name was _Liberty_, and she - took flesh in a people--that people called itself _France._ - On her brow, as in ancient Eden, spread a tree with green - boughs which was called the _tree of liberty._ Henceforward - France and Liberty stand for the same thing, one single - identical idea!' And, giving me a harp which hung above - his bed, he added. 'Sing, prophet!' and the Spirit of God - inspired me with these words-- - - I - - "Why dost thou rise with the Sun, O France! O Liberty! And - why are thy vestments scented with incense? Why dost thou - ascend the mountains in early morn? - - II - - "Is it to see reapers in the ripened cornfields, or the - gleaner bending over the furrows like a shrub bowed down by - the winds? - - III - - "Or is it to listen to the song of the lark or the murmur of - the river, or to gaze at the dawn which is as beautiful as a - blue-eyed maiden? - - IV - - "If you rise with the sun, O France! O Liberty! it is not to - watch the reapers in the cornfields or the bowed gleaners - among the furrows. - - V - - "Nor to listen to the song of the lark or murmur of the - river, nor yet to gaze at the dawn, beauteous as a blue-eyed - maiden. - - VI - - "Thou awaitest thy bridegroom to be: thy bridegroom of the - strong hands, with lips more roseate than corals from the - Spanish seas, and forehead more polished than Pharo's marble. - - VII - - "Come down from thy mountains, O France! O Liberty! Thou - wilt not find thy bridegroom there. Thou wilt meet him in - the holy city, in the midst of the multitude. - - VIII - - "Behold him as he comes to thee, with proud steps, his - breast covered with a breastplate of brass; thou shalt slip - the nuptial ring on his finger; at thy feet is a crown that - has fallen in the mud; thou shalt place it on his brow and - proclaim him emperor. Thus adorned thou shalt gaze on him - proudly and address him thus-- - - IX - - 'My bridegroom thou art as beauteous as the first of men. - Take off the Phrygian cap from my brow, and replace it by - a helmet with waving plumes; gird my loins with a flaming - sword and send me out among the nations until I shall have - accomplished in sorrow the mystery of love, according as it - has been written, that I am to crush the serpent's head!' - - X - - "And when thy bridegroom has listened to thee, he will - reply: 'Thy will be done, O France! O Liberty!' And he will - urge thee forth, well armed, among the nations, that God's - word may be accomplished. - - XI - - "Why is thy brow so pale, O France! O Liberty! And why is - thy white tunic soiled with sweat and blood? Why walkest - thou painfully like a woman in travail? - - XII - - "Because thy bridegroom gives thee no relaxation from thy - task, and thy travail is at hand. - - XIII - - "Dost thou hear the wind roaring in the distance, and the - mighty voice of the flood as it groans in its granite - prison? Dost thou hear the moaning of the waves and the cry - of the night-birds? All announce that deliverance is at hand. - - XIV - - "As in the days of thy departure, O France, O Liberty! - put on thy glorious raiment; sprinkle on thy locks the - purest perfumes of Araby; empty with thy disciples the - farewell goblet, and take thy way to thy Calvary, where the - deliverance of the world must be sealed. - - XV - - "'What is the name of that hill thou climbest amidst the - lightning flashes?' - - "'The hill is Waterloo.' - - "'What is that plain called all red with thy blood?' - - "'It is the plain of the Belle-Alliance!' - - "'Be thou for ever blessed among women, among all the - nations, O France! O Liberty!' - - "And when _he who is_ had listened to these things, he - replied-- - - "'Oh, my mother, thou who told me "Death was not the tomb; - but the cradle of an ampler life, of more infinite Love!" - thy cry has reached me. O mother! by the anguish of thy - painful travail, by the sufferings of thy martyrdom in - crushing the serpent's head and saving Humanity!' - - "Then turning to me he added: 'Child of God, what art thou - looking for? Light or darkness? Death or life? Hope or - despair?' - - "'Brother,' I replied, 'I am looking for Truth!' - - "And he replied, 'In the name of primeval unity, - reconstructed by the grand blood of France, I hail thee - apostle of _Eve-Adam!_' - - "And _he who is_ called forth to the abyss which opened out - at his voice-- - - "'Child of God,' he said, 'listen attentively, and look!' - - "And I looked and saw a great vessel, with a huge mast - which terminated in a mere hull, and one of the sides of - the vessel looked west and the other east. And on the - west it rested upon the cloudy tops of three mountains - whose bases were plunged in a raging sea. Each of these - mountains bore its name on its blood-red flank: the first - was called Golgotha; the second, Mont-Saint-Jean; the - third, Saint-Helena. In the middle of the great mast, - on the western side, a five-armed cross was fixed, upon - which a woman was stretched, dying. Over her head was this - inscription-- - - "FRANCE - 18 _June_ 1815 - Good Friday - - "Each of the five arms of the cross on which she was - stretched represented one of the five parts of the world; - her head rested over Europe and a cloud surrounded her. But - on the side of the vessel which looked towards the east - there were no shadows; and the keel stayed at the threshold - of the city of God, on the summit of a triumphal arch which - the sun lit up with its rays. And the same woman reappeared, - but she was transfigured and radiant; she lifted up the - stone of a grave on which was written-- - - "RESTORATION, DAYS OF THE TOMB - 29 _July_ 1830 - Easter - - "And her bridegroom held out his arms, smiling, and together - they sprang upwards to the skies. Then, from the depths of - the arched heavens, a mighty voice spake-- - - "'The mystery of love is accomplished--all are called! all - are chosen! all are re-instated!' Behold this is what I saw - in the holy heavens and soon after the abyss was veiled, and - _he who is_ laid his hands upon me and said-- - - "'Go, my brother, take off thy festal garments and don the - tunic of a working-man; hang the hammer of a worker at thy - waist, for he who does not go with the people does not side - with me, and he who does not take his share of labour is the - enemy of God. Go, and be a faithful disciple of unity!' - - "And I replied: 'It is the faith in which I desire to live, - which I am ready to seal with my blood? When I was ready to - set forth, the sun began to climb above the horizon. - - "_He who was_ CAILLAUX - _"July_ 1840" - -Such was the apocalypse of the chief, and we might almost say, the -only apostle of the Mapah. I began with the intention of cutting out -three-quarters of it, and I have given nearly the whole. I began, my -pen inclined to scoff, but my courage has failed me; for there is -beneath it all a true devotion and poetry and nobility of thought. What -became of the man who wrote these lines? I do not know in the least; -but I have no doubt he did not desert _the faith in which he desired -to live, and that he remained ready to seal it with his blood._ ... -Society must be in a bad state and sadly out of joint and disorganised -for men of such intelligence to find no other method of employment than -to become self-constituted gods--or apostles! - - - - -BOOK III - - - - -CHAPTER I - - - The scapegoat of power--Legitimist hopes--The - expiatory mass--The Abbé Olivier--The Curé of - Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--Pachel--Where I begin - to be wrong--General Jacqueminot--Pillage of - Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois--The sham Jesuit and the Préfet of - Police--The Abbé Paravey's room - - -Whilst we were upon the subject of great priests, of apostles and gods, -of the Abbé Châtel, and of _him who was Caillaux_ and the Mapah, we -meant to approach cursorily the history of Saint-Simon and of his two -disciples Enfantin and Bayard; but we begin to fear that our readers -have had enough of this modern Olympus; we therefore hasten to return -to politics, which were going from bad to worse, and to literature, -which was growing better and better. Let us, however, assure our -readers they have lost nothing by the delay: a little further on they -will meet with the god again at his office of the Mont-de-Piété, and -the apostles in their retreat of Mérilmontant. - -But first let us return to our artillerymen; then, by way of -Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois and the archbishop's palace, we will reach -_Antony._ As will be realised, our misdeeds of the months of November -and December had roused the attention of those in authority; warrants -had been issued, and nineteen citizens, mostly belonging to the -artillery, had been arrested. These were Trélat, Godefroy Cavaignac, -Guinard, Sambuc, Francfort, Audry, Penard, Rouhier, Chaparre, Guilley, -Chauvin, Peschieux d'Herbinville, Lebastard, Alexandre Garnier, -Charles Garnier, Danton, Lenoble, Pointis and Gourdin. They had been -in all the riots of the reign of Louis-Philippe, as also in those of -the end of the Consulate and the beginning of the Empire: no matter -what party had stirred up the rising, it was always the Republicans -who were dropped upon. And this because every reactionary government, -in succession for the past seventy years, thoroughly understood that -Republicans were its only serious, actual and unceasing enemies. The -preference King Louis-Philippe showed us, at the risk of being accused -of partiality, strongly encouraged the other parties and, notably, -the Carlist party. Royalists from within and Royalist from without -seemed to send one another this famous programme of 1792: "_Make a -stir and we will come in! Come in, and we will make a stir!_" It was -the Royalists inside who were the first to make a stir and upon the -following occasion: The idea had stayed in the minds of various persons -that King Louis-Philippe had only accepted his power to give it at -some time to Henri V. Now, that which, in particular, lent colour to -the idea that Louis-Philippe was inclined to play the part of monk, -was the report that the only ambassador the Emperor Nicholas would -accept was this very M. de Mortemart, to whom the Duc d'Orléans had -handed, on 31 July, this famous letter of which I have given a copy; -and, as M. de Mortemart had just started for St. Petersburg with the -rank of ambassador, there was no further doubt, at least, in the eyes -of the Royalists that the king of the barricades was ready to hand -over the crown to Henri V. This rumour was less absurd, it must be -granted, than that which was spread abroad from 1799 to 1803, namely, -that Bonaparte had caused 18 Brumaire for the benefit of Louis XVIII. -Each of the two sovereigns replied with arguments characteristic of -themselves. Bonaparte had the Duc d'Enghien arrested, tried and shot. -Louis-Philippe allowed the pillage of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois and -of the archbishop's palace. An opportunity was to be given to the -Carlists and priests, their natural allies, to test the situation -which eight months of Philippist reign and three of Republican -prosecutions had wrought among them. They were nearing 14 February, -the anniversary of the assassination of the Duc de Berry. Already in -the provinces there had been small Legitimist attempts. At Rodez, -the tree of liberty was torn down during the night; at Collioure, -they had hoisted the white flag; at Nîmes, les Verdets seemed to -have come to life again, and, like the phantoms that return from the -other world to smite their enemies, they had, it was reported, beaten -the National Guard, who had been discovered, almost overwhelmed and -unable to give any but a very vague description of their destroyers. -That was the situation on 12 February. The triple emanation of the -Republican, Carlist and Napoléonic phases went through the atmosphere -like a sudden gust of storm, bearing on its wings the harsh cries of -some unbridled, frenzied carnival, when, all at once, people learnt -that, in a couple of days' time, an anniversary service was to be -celebrated at Saint-Roch, in expiation of the assassination at the -Place Louvois. A political assassination is such a detestable thing -in the opinion of all factions, that it ought always to be allowable -to offer expiatory masses for the assassinated; but there are times -of feverish excitement when the most simple actions assume the huge -proportions of a threat or contempt, and this particular mass, on -account of the peculiar circumstances at the time, was both a threat -and an act of defiance. But they were deceived as to the place where -it was to be held. Saint-Roch, as far as I can recollect, was, at that -period, served by the Abbé Olivier, a fine, spiritual-minded priest, -adored by his flock, who are scarcely consoled at the present day by -seeing him made Bishop of Évreux. I knew the Abbé Olivier; he was fond -of me and I hope he still likes me; I reverenced him and shall always -reverence him. I mention this, in passing, to give him news of one of -his penitents, in the extremely improbable case of these Memoirs ever -falling into his hands. Moreover, I shall have to refer to him later, -more than once. He was deeply devoted to the queen; more than anyone -else he could appreciate the benevolence, piety and even humility of -that worthy princess: for he was her confessor. I do not know whether -it was on account of the royal intimacy with which the Abbé Olivier -was honoured, or because he understood the significance of the act -that was expected of him, that the Church of Saint-Roch declined the -honour. It was different with the curé of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois. -He accepted. This appealed to him as a twofold duty: the curé of -Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois was nearly eighty years of age, and he was -the priest who had accompanied Marie-Antoinette to the scaffold. His -curate, M. Paravey, by a strange coincidence, was the priest who had -blessed the tombs of the Louvre. - -In consequence of the change which had been made in the programme, -men, placed on the steps of the Church of Saint-Roch, distributed, -on the morning of the 14th, notices announcing that the funeral -ceremony had been arranged to take place at Saint-Roch and not at -Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois. - -I was at the Vaudeville, where I believe we were rehearsing _La Famille -improvisée_ by Henry Monnier--I have already spoken of, and shall often -again refer to, this old friend of mine, an eminent artiste, witty -comrade and _good fellow_! as the English say--when Pachel the head -hired-applauder ran in terrified, crying out that emblazoned equipages -were forming in line at Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois; and people were -saying in the crowd that the personages who were getting out from them -had come to be present at a requiem service for the repose of the soul -of the Duc de Berry. This news produced an absolutely contrary effect -upon Arago and myself: it exasperated Arago, but put me very much at -ease. - -I have related how I was educated by a priest, and by an excellent -one too; now that early education, the influence of those juvenile -memories, gave--I will not say to all my actions--God forbid I should -represent myself to my readers as a habitually religious-minded -man!--but to all my beliefs and opinions--such a deep religious tinge -that I cannot even now enter a church without taking holy water, or -pass in front of a crucifix without making the sign of the cross. -Therefore, in spite of the violence of my political opinions at that -time, I thought that the poor assassinated Duc de Berry had a right to -a requiem mass, that the Royalists had a right to be present at it and -the curé the right to celebrate it. But this was not Étienne's way of -looking at it. Perhaps he was right. Consequently, he wrote a few lines -to the _National_ and to the _Temps_ and ran to the spot. I followed -him in a much more tranquil manner. I could see that something serious -would come of it; that the Royalist journals would exclaim against -the sacrilege, and that the accusation would fall upon the Republican -party. Arago, with his convinced opinions, his southern fieriness -of temperament, entered the church just as a young man was hanging -a portrait of the Duc de Bordeaux on the catafalque. Here was where -Arago began to be in the right and I to be in the wrong. Behind the -young man there came a lady, who placed a crown of immortelles upon it; -behind the woman came soldiers, who hung their crosses to the effigy -of Henri VI. by the aid of pins. Now, Arago was wholly in the right -and I totally wrong. For the ceremony here ceased to be a religious -demonstration and became a political act of provocation. The people and -citizens rushed into the church. The citizens became incensed, and the -people grumbled. But let us keep exactly to the events which followed. -The riot at the archbishop's palace was middle class, not lower class. -The men who raised it were the same as those who had caused the -Raucourt and Philippe riots under the Restoration; the subscriptors -of Voltaire-Touquet, the buyers of snuff-boxes à la Charte. Arago -perceived the moment was the right one and that the irritation and -grumbling could be turned to account. There was no organisation in the -nature of conspiracy at that time; but the Republican party was on the -watch and ready to turn any contingencies to account. We shall see the -truth of this illustrated in connection with the burial of Lamarque. -Arago sprang out of the church, climbed up on a horizontal bar of the -railings and, stretching out his hands in the direction of the graves -of July, which lay in front of the portal of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, -shouted--"Citizens! They dare to celebrate a requiem service in honour -of one of the members of the family whom we have just driven from -power, only fifty yards from the victims of July! Shall we allow them -to finish the service?" - -Maddened cries went up. "No! no! no!" from every voice; and they rushed -into the church. The assailants encountered General Jacqueminot in -the doorway, who was then chief of the staff or second in command of -the National Guard (I do not know further particulars, and the matter -is not important enough for me to inquire into). He tried to stem the -torrent, but it was too strong to be stopped by a single man. The -general realised this, and tried to stay it by a word. Now, a word, if -it is the right one, and courageous or sympathetic, is the safest wall -that can be put across the path of that fifth element which we call -"The People." - -"My friends," cried the general, "listen to me and take in who I am--I -was at Rambouillet: therefore, I belong to your party." - -"You were at Rambouillet?" a voice questioned. - -"Yes." - -"Well, you would have done better to stay in Paris, and to leave the -combatants of July where they were: their absence would not then have -been taken advantage of to set up a king!" - -The riposte was a deadly one, and General Jacqueminot looked upon -himself as a dead man and made no further signs of life. The invasion -of the church was rapid, irresistible and terrible; in a few minutes -the catafalque was destroyed, the pall was torn to shreds and the altar -knocked down; the golden-flowered hanging, sacred pictures, sacerdotal -vestments were all trampled under foot! Scepticism revenged itself by -impiety, sacrilege and blasphemy, for the fifteen years during which it -had been made to hide its mocking face behind the mask of hypocrisy. -They laughed, they howled, they danced round all the sacred things -they had heaped up, overturned and torn in pieces. One of the rioters -came out of the sacristy in the complete dress of a priest: he mounted -on the top of a heap of débris and beat time to the infernal din. It -looked like a figure of Satan, dressed up ironically in priestly robes, -presiding over a revel. - -I witnessed the whole scene from the entrance and went away, with -bent head and a heavy heart and unquiet mind, sorry I had seen it. I -could not hide from myself that the people had been incited to do what -they had done. I was too much of a philosopher to expect the people -to discriminate between the Church and the priesthood--religion from -its ministers; but I was too religious at heart to stay there, and -I attempted to get away from the place. I say _I attempted_, for it -was no easy thing to get out: the square of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois -was crowded; and the crowd, forced back into the narrow rue de -Prêtres, overflowed on to the quays. At one spot this crowd was -excited and turbulent; and a struggle was going on from whence issued -cries. A tall, pale young man, with long black hair and good-looking -countenance, was standing on a post, watching the tumult with some -expression of scorn. One of the bystanders, who was probably irritated -by this disdain, began to shout: "A Jesuit!" Such a cry at such a time -was like putting a match to a bundle of tow. The crowd rushed for the -poor fellow, crying-- - -"Throw the Jesuits into the Seine! Drown him! Give the Jesuits to the -nets of Saint-Cloud!" - -Baude was the Préfet of Police. I can see him now with his fine locks -flying in the wind, his dark eyes darting out lightning flashes, and -his herculean strength. It was the second time I had seen him thus. He -had just arrived with the Municipal Guard, which he had drawn up before -the church door; the men were trying to shut the gates. He flew to the -rescue of the unlucky doomed man, who was being passed from hand to -hand, and was in his aërial flight approaching the river with fearful -rapidity. The desire to hinder a murder redoubled Baude's strength. -He reached the edge of the river at the same time as the victim who -was threatened with being flung over the parapet. He clutched hold -of him and drew him back. I saw no more: for I was being suffocated -against the boards which, at that time, enclosed the _jardin de -l'Infante_ and, dilapidated though they were, they offered a great -deal more resistance than I liked, The necessity for labouring for -my personal preservation compelled me to turn my eyes away from the -direction of the quay and to struggle on my own account. My stalwart -build and the combined efforts of many who recognised me enabled me to -reach the quay and, from thence, the _pont des Arts._ They were still -fighting by the parapet. Later, I learnt that Baude had succeeded -in saving the poor devil at the expense of a good number of bruises -and his coat torn to ribbons. But, whilst the Préfet of Police was -playing the part of philanthropist, he was not fulfilling his duties -as préfet, and the rioters profited by this lapse in his municipal -functions. The people continued pillaging the church and the presbytery -of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, and by the time that Baude had done his -good action it was all over. Only the room of the Abbé Paravey, who -had blessed the tombs of the July martyrs, had been respected. The mob -always recognises, even in its moments of greatest anger and its worst -sacrilege, the something that is greater than its wrath, before which -it stops and bends the knee. On 24 February 1848 the mob served the -Tuileries as they had served the Church of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois on -14 February 1831, but it stopped short at the apartment of the Duchesse -d'Orléans, as it had done before the Abbé Paravey's room. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - - The Préfet of Police at the Palais-Royal--The function - of fire--Valérius, the truss-maker--Demolition of the - archbishop's palace--The Chinese album--François Arago--The - spectators of the riot--The erasure of the fleurs-de-lis--I - give in my resignation a second time--MM. Chambolle and - Casimir Périer - - -The supposed Jesuit saved, the Church of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois -sacked, the room of the Abbé Paravey respected, the crowd passed away, -Baude thought the anger of the lion was appeased and presented himself -at the Palais-Royal without taking time to change his clothes. Just as -these bore material traces of the struggle he had gone through, so his -face kept the impression of the emotions he had experienced. To put -it in common parlance--as the least academic of men sometimes allows -himself to be captivated by the fascination of phrase-making--the -préfet's clothes were torn and his face was very pale. But the king, on -the other hand, was quite calm. - -More fully informed, this time, of the events going on in the street, -than he had been about those of the Chamber when they discharged La -Fayette, he knew everything that had just happened. He saw, too, that -it tended to his own advantage. The Carlists had lifted up their -heads and, without the slightest interference on his part, they had -been punished! There had been a riot, but it had not threatened the -Palais-Royal, and by a little exercise of skill it could be made to -do credit to the Republican party. What a chance! and just at the -time when the leaders of that same party were in prison for another -disturbance. - -But the king clearly suspected that matters would not stop here; -so, with his usual astuteness, and seeming courtesy, he kept Baude -to dinner. Baude saw nothing in this invitation beyond an act of -politeness, and a kind of reward for the dangers he had incurred. But -there was more in it than that. The Préfet of Police being at the -Palais-Royal meant that all the police reports would be sent there; -now, Baude could not do otherwise than to communicate them to his -illustrious host. So, in this way, without any trouble to himself, -the king would become acquainted with everything, both what Baude's -police knew and what his own police also knew. King Louis-Philippe was -a subtle man, but his very cleverness detracted from his strength. We -do not think it is possible to be both fox and lion at the same time. -The reports were disquieting: one of them announced the pillage of the -archbishop's palace for the morrow; another, an attempted attack upon -the Palais-Royal. - -"Sire," asked the Préfet of the Police, "what must we do?" - -"Powder and shot," replied the king. - -Baude understood. By three o'clock in the morning all the troops of the -garrison were disposed round the Palais-Royal, but the avenues to the -archbishop's palace were left perfectly free. This is what happened -while the Préfet of Police was dining with His Majesty. General -Jacqueminot had summoned the National Guard and, instead of dispersing -the rioters, they clapped their hands at the riot. Cadet-Gassicourt, -who was mayor of the fourth arrondissement, arrived next. Some people -pointed out to him the three fleurs-de-lis which adorned the highest -points of the cross that surmounted the church. A man out of the -crowd heard the remark, and quickly the cry went up of "Down with the -fleurs-de-lis; down with the cross!" They attached themselves to the -cross with the fleurs-de-lis of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, just as -seventeen years previously they had attached themselves to the statue -of Napoléon on the Place Vendôme. The cross fell at the third pull. -There was not much else left to do after that, either inside the church -or on the top of it, and, unless they pulled it down altogether, it was -only wasting time to stop there. At that instant a rumour circulated, -either rightly or falsely, that a surgical instrument maker in the -rue de Coq, named Valérius, had been one of the arrangers of the -fête. They rushed to his shop, scattered his bandages and broke his -shop-front. The National Guard came, and can you guess what it did? -It made a guard-house of the wrecked shop. This affair of the cross -and the fleurs-de-lis gave a political character to the riot, and had -suggested, or was about to suggest, on the following day, a party of -the popular insurgents towards the Palais-Royal. As a matter of fact, -the fleurs-de-lis had remained upon the arms of the king up to this -time. Soon after the election of 9 August, Casimir Périer had advised -him to abandon them; but the king remembered that, on the male side, -he was the grandson of Henry IV., and of Louis XIV. on the female -line, and he had obstinately refused. Under the pretext, therefore, -of demanding the abolition of the fleurs-de-lis, a gathering of -Republicans was to march next day upon the Palais-Royal. When there, if -they found themselves strong enough, they would, at the same stroke, -demand the abolition of royalty. I knew nothing about this plot, and, -if I had, I should have kept clear of everything that meant a direct -attack against King Louis-Philippe. I had work to do the next day and -kept my door fast shut against everybody, my own servant included, -but the latter violated his orders and entered. It was evident that -something extraordinary had happened for Joseph to take such a liberty -with me. They had been firing off rifles half the night, they had -disarmed two or three posts, they had sacked the archbishop's palace. -The proposition of marching on the palace of M. de Quélen was received -with enthusiasm. He was one of those worldly prelates who pass for -being rather shepherds, than pastors. It was affirmed that on 28 July -1830 a woman's cap had been found at his house and they wanted to -know if, by chance, there might not be a pair. The devil tempted me: -I dressed hastily and I ran in the direction of the city. The bridges -were crowded to breaking point, and there was a row of curious gazers -on the parapets two deep. Only on the Pont Neuf could I manage to see -daylight between two spectators. The river drifted with furniture, -books, chasubles, cassocks and priests' robes. The latter objects -were horrible as they looked like drowning people. All these things -came from the archbishop's palace. When the crowd reached the palace, -the door seemed too narrow, relatively speaking, for the number and -impetuosity of the visitors: the crowd, therefore, seized hold of the -iron grill, shook it and tore it down; then they spread over all the -rooms and threw the furniture out of the windows. Several book-lovers -who tried to save rare books and precious editions were nearly thrown -into the Seine. One single album alone escaped the general destruction. -The man who laid hands on it chanced to open it: it was a Chinese album -painted on leaves of rice. The Chinese are very fanciful in their -compositions, and this particular one so far transcended the limits -of French fancy, that the crowd had not the courage to insist on the -precious album being thrown into the water. I have never seen anything -approaching this album except in the private museum at Naples; I ought, -also, to say that the album of the Archbishop of Paris far excelled -that of His Majesty the King of the Two Sicilies. The most indulgent -people thought that this curious document had been given to the -archbishop by some repentant Magdalene, in expiation of the sins she -had committed, and to whom the merciful prelate had given absolution. -It goes without saying that I was among the tolerant, and that, then as -now, I did my utmost to get this view accepted. - -Meantime, after seizing the furniture, library hangings, carpets, -mirrors, missals, chasubles and cassocks, the crowd, not satisfied, -seized upon the building itself. In an instant a hundred men were -scattered over the roofs and had begun to tear off the tiles and slates -of the archiépiscopal palace. It might have been supposed the rioters -were all slaters. Has my reader happened, at any time, to shut up a -mouse or rat or bird in a box pierced with holes, put it in the midst -of an anthill and waited, given patience, for two or three hours? At -the end of that time the ants have finished their work, and he can -extract a beautiful skeleton from which all the flesh has completely -disappeared. Thus, and in the same manner, under the work of the human -ant-heap, at the end of an hour the coverings of the archbishop's -palace had as completely disappeared. Next, it was the turn for the -bones to go--where the ants stop discouraged, man destroys; by two -o'clock in the afternoon the bones had disappeared like the flesh. Of -the archbishop's palace not one stone remained on another! By good -fortune the archbishop was at his country-house at Conflans; if not he -would probably have been destroyed with his town-house. - -All this time the drums had called the rappel, but not with that -ferocious plying of drumsticks of which they gave us a sample in the -month of December, as though to say, "Run, everyone, the town is on -fire!" but with feebleness of execution as much as to say, "If you have -nothing better to say, come, and you will not have a warm welcome!" -So, as the National Guard began to understand the language of the -drums, it did not put itself about much. However, a detachment of the -12th Legion, in command of François Arago,--the famous savant, the -noble patriot who is now dying, and whom the Academy will probably not -dare to praise, except as a savant,--came from the Panthéon towards -the city. As ill-luck would have it, his adjutant, who marched on the -flank, sabre in hand, gesticulating with it in a manner justified -by the circumstances, stuck it into a poor fellow, who was merely -peacefully standing watching them go by. The poor devil fell, wounded, -and was picked up nearly dead. We know how such a thing as that -operates: the dead or wounded is no longer his own private property; -he belongs to the crowd, which makes a standard of him, as it were. -The crowd took possession of the man, bleeding as he was, and began to -shout, "To arms! Vengeance on the assassin! Vengeance!" The assassin, -or, rather, the unintentional murderer, had disappeared. They carried -the victim into the enclosure outside Notre-Dame, where everybody -discussed loudly how to take revenge for him, and pitied him, but -none thought of getting him help. It was François Arago, who made an -appeal to humanity out of the midst of the threatening cries, and -pointed to the Hôtel-Dieu, open to receive him, and, if possible, to -cure the dying man. They placed him on a stretcher, and François Arago -accompanied the unfortunate man to the bedside, where they had scarcely -laid him before he died. - -The report of that death spread with the fearful rapidity with which -bad news always travels. When Arago re-appeared the crowd turned -in earnest to wrath; it was in one of those moods when it sharpens -its teeth and nails, and aches to tear to pieces and to devour.... -What? In such a crisis it matters but little what, so long as it can -tear and devour someone or something! It was frenzied to the extent -of hurling itself upon Arago himself, mistaking the saviour for -the murderer. In the twinkling of an eye our great astronomer was -dragged towards the Seine, where he was going to be flung with the -furniture, books and archiépiscopal vestments; when, happily, some -of the spectators recognised him, called out his name, setting forth -his reputation and his popularity in order to save him from death. -When recognised, he was safe; but, robbed of a man, the excited crowd -had to have something else, and, not being able to drown Arago, they -demolished the archbishop's palace. With what rapidity they destroyed -that building we have already spoken. And the remarkable thing was -that many honourable witnesses watched the proceedings. M. Thiers was -present, making his first practical study of the downfall of palaces -and of monarchies. M. de Schonen was there, in colonel's uniform, -but reduced to powerlessness because he had but few men at command. -M. Talabot was there with his battalion; but he averred to M. Arago, -who urged him to act, that he had been ordered to _appear and then to -return._ The passive presence of all these notable persons at the riot -of the archbishop's palace put a seal of sanction upon the proceedings, -which I had never seen before, or have ever again seen at any other -riot. This was no riot of the people, filled with enthusiasm, risking -their lives in the midst of flashings of musketry fire and thunder of -artillery; it was a riot in yellow kid-gloves, and overcoats and coats, -it was a scoffing and impious, destructive and insolent crowd, without -the excuse of previous insult or destruction offered it; in fact, it -was a bourgeois riot, that most pitiless and contemptible of all riots. - -I returned home heart-broken: I am wrong, I mean upset. I learnt -that night that they had wished to demolish Notre-Dame, and only a -very little more and the chef-d'oœuvre of four centuries, begun by -Charlemagne and finished by Philippe-Auguste, would have disappeared -in a few hours as the archbishop's palace had done. As I returned -home, I had passed by the Palais-Royal. The king who had refused to -make to Casimir Périer the sacrifice of the fleurs-de-lis, made that -sacrifice to the rioters: they scratched it off the coats-of-arms on -his carriages and mutilated the iron balconies of his palace. - -The next day a decree appeared in the _Moniteur_, altering the three -fleurs-de-lis of Charles V. this time to two tables of the law. If -genealogy be established by coats-of-arms we should have to believe -that the King of France was descended from Moses rather than from St. -Louis! Only, these new tables of the law, the counterfeit of those of -Sinai, had not even the excuse of being accepted out of the midst of -thunders and lightnings. - -It was upon this particular day, on Lamy's desk, who was Madame -Adélaide's secretary, when I saw the grooms engaged in erasing the -fleurs-de-lis from the king's carriages, thinking that it was not in -this fashion that they should have been taken away from the arms of the -house of France, that I sent in my resignation a second time, the only -one which reached the king and which was accepted. It was couched in -the following terms:-- - - "15 _February_ 1831 - - "SIRE,--Three weeks ago I had the honour to ask for an - audience of your Majesty; my object was to offer my - resignation to your Majesty by word of mouth; for I wished - to explain, personally, that I was neither ungrateful, nor - capricious. Sire, a long time ago I wrote and made public - my opinion that, in my case, the man of letters was but the - prelude to the politician. I have arrived at the age when - I can take a part in a reformed Chamber. I am pretty sure - of being nominated a député when I am thirty years of age, - and I am now twenty-eight, Sire. Unhappily, the People, who - look at things from a mean and distant point of view, do not - distinguish between the intentions of the king, and the acts - of the ministers. Now the acts of the ministers are both - arbitrary and destructive of liberty. Amongst the persons - who live upon your Majesty, and tell him constantly that - they admire and love him, there is not one probably, who - loves your Majesty more than I do; only they talk about it - and do not think it, and I do not talk about it but think it. - - "But, Sire, devotion to principles comes before devotion - to men. Devotion to principles makes men like La Fayette; - devotion to men, like Rovigo.[1] I therefore pray your - Majesty to accept my resignation. - - "I have the honour to remain your Majesty's respectful - servant, ALEX. DUMAS" - -It was an odd thing! In the eyes of the Republican party, to which I -belonged, I was regarded as a thorough Republican, because I took my -share in all the risings, and wanted to see the flag of '92 float at -the head of our armies; but, at the same time, I could not understand -how, when they had taken a Bourbon as their king, whether he was of the -Elder or Younger branch of the house, he could be at the same time a -Valois, as they had tried to make the good people of Paris believe,--I -could not, I say, understand, how the fleurs-de-lis could cease to be -his coat-of-arms. - -It was because I was both a poet and a Republican, and already -comprehended and maintained, contrary to certain narrow-minded people -of our party, that France, even though democratic, did not date -from '89 only; that we nineteenth century men had received a vast -inheritance of glory and must preserve it; that the fleurs-de-lis -meant the lance heads of Clovis, and the javelins of Charlemagne; that -they had floated successively at Tolbiac, at Tours, at Bouvines, at -Taillebourg, at Rosbecque, at Patay, at Fornovo, Ravenna, Marignan, -Renty, Arques, Rocroy, Steinkerque, Almanza, Fontenoy, upon the seas -of India and the lakes of America; that, after the success of fifty -victories, we suffered the glory of a score of defeats which would -have been enough to annihilate another nation; that the Romans invaded -us, and we drove them out, the Franks too, who were also expelled; the -English invaded us, and we drove them out. - -The opinion I am now putting forth with respect to the erasing of the -fleurs-de-lis, which I upheld very conspicuously at that time by my -resignation, was also the opinion of Casimir Périer. The next day after -the fleurs-de-lis had disappeared from the king's carriages, from the -balconies of the Palais-Royal and even from Bayard's shield, whilst -the effigy of Henry IV. was preserved on the Cross of the Legion of -Honours; M. Chambolle, who has since started the Orleanist paper, -_l'Ordre_, called at M. Casimir Périer's house. - -"Why," the latter asked him, "in the name of goodness, does the king -give up his armorial bearings? Ah! He would not do it after the -Revolution, when I advised him to sacrifice them; no, he would not hear -of their being effaced then, and stuck to them more tenaciously than -did his elders. Now, the riot has but to pass under his windows and -behold his escutcheon lies in the gutter!" - -Those who knew what an irascible character Casimir Périer was, will -not be surprised at the flowers of rhetoric with which those words are -adorned. - -But now that there is no longer an archbishop's palace, nor any -fleurs-de-lis, and the statue of the Duc de Berry about to be knocked -down at Lille, the seminary of Perpignan pillaged and the busts of -Louis XVIII. and of Charles X. of Nîmes destroyed, let us return to -_Antony_, which was to cause a great disturbance in literature, besides -which the riots we have just been discussing were but as the holiday -games of school children. - - -[1] We are compelled to admit that, in our opinion, the parallel -between La Fayette and the Duc de Rovigo is to the disadvantage of the -latter; but how far he is above them in comparing him with other men of -the empire! La Fayette's love for liberty is sublime; the devotion of -the Duc de Rovigo for Napoléon is worthy of respect, for all devotion -is a fine and rare thing, as times go. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - - My dramatic faith wavers--Bocage and Dorval reconcile - me with myself--A political trial wherein I deserved to - figure--Downfall of the Laffitte Ministry--Austria and the - Duc de Modena--Maréchal Maison is Ambassador at Vienna--The - story of one of his dispatches--Casimir Périer Prime - Minister--His reception at the Palais-Royal--They make him - the _amende honorable_ - - -We saw what small success _Antony_ obtained at the reading before M. -Crosnier. The consequence was that just as they had not scrupled to -pass my play over for the drama of _Don Carlos ou l'Inquisition_, at -the Théâtre-Français, they did not scruple, at the Porte-Saint-Martin, -to put on all or any sort of piece that came to their hands before -they looked at mine. Poor _Antony!_ It had already been in existence -for close upon two years; but this delay, it must be admitted, instead -of injuring it in any way, was, on the contrary, to turn to very -profitable account. During those two years, events had progressed and -had brought about in France one of those feverish situations wherein -the explosions of eccentric individuals cause immense noise. There -was something sickly and degenerate in the times, which answered to -the monomania of my hero. Meanwhile, as I have said, I had no settled -opinion about my drama; my youthful faith in myself had only held out -for _Henri III._ and _Christine_; but the horrible concert of hootings -which had deafened me at the representation of the latter piece had -shattered that faith to its very foundations. Then the Revolution had -come, which had thrown me into quite another order of ideas, and had -made me believe I was destined to become what in politics is called a -man of action, a belief which had succumbed yet more rapidly than my -literary belief. - -Next had taken place the representation of my _Napoléon Bonaparte_, -a work whose worthlessness I recognised with dread in spite of the -fanatical enthusiasm it had excited at its reading. Then came _Antony_, -which inspired no fanaticism nor enthusiasm, neither at its reading -nor at its rehearsal; which, in my inmost conscience, I believed was -destined to close my short series of successes with failure. Were, -perchance, M. Fossier, M. Oudard, M. Picard and M. Deviolaine right? -Would it have been better for me _to go to my office_, as the author -of _la Petite Ville_ and _Deux Philibert_ had advised? It was rather -late in the day to make such reflections as these, just after I had -sent in my resignation definitely. I did not make them any the less for -that, nor did they cheer me any the more on that account. My comfort -was that Crosnier did not seem to set any higher value upon _Marion -Delorme_ than upon _Antony_, and I was a great admirer of _Marion -Delorme._ I might be deceived in my own piece, but assuredly I was not -mistaken about that of Hugo; while, on the other hand, Crosnier might -be wrong about Hugo's piece, and therefore equally mistaken about mine. -Meanwhile, the rehearsals continued their course. - -That which I had foreseen happened: in proportion as the rehearsals -advanced, the two principal parts taken by Madame Dorval and by Bocage -assumed entirely different aspects than they did when represented by -Mademoiselle Mars and Firmin. The absence of scholastic traditions, the -manner of acting drama, a certain sympathy of the actors with their -parts, a sympathy which did not exist at the Théâtre Français, all by -degrees helped to reinstate poor _Antony_ in my own opinion. It is but -fair to say that, when the two great artistes, upon whom the success of -the play depended, felt the day of representation drawing nearer, they -developed, as if in emulation with one another, qualities they were -themselves unconscious they possessed. Dorval brought out a dignity -of feeling in the expression of the emotions, of which I should have -thought her quite incapable; and Bocage, on whom I had only looked -at first as capable of a kind of misanthropic barbarity, had moments -of poetic sadness and of dreamy melancholy that I had only seen in -Talma in his rôles of the English rendering of Hamlet, and in Soumet's -Orestes. The representation was fixed for the first fortnight in April; -but, at the same time, a drama was being played at the _Palais de -justice_, which, even to my eyes, was far more interesting than my own. - -My friends Guinard, Cavaignac and Trélat, with sixteen other -fellow-prisoners, were brought up before the Court of Assizes. It will -be recollected that it was on account of the Artillery conspiracy, -wherein I had taken an active part; therefore, one thing alone -surprised me, why they should be in prison and I free; why they should -have to submit to the cross-questionings of the law court whilst I -was rehearsing a piece at the Porte-Saint-Martin. Between the 6th and -the 11th of April the audiences had been devoted to the interrogation -of the prisoners and to the hearing of witnesses. On the 12th, the -Solicitor-General took up the case. I need hardly say that from the -12th to the 15th, the day when sentence was passed, I never left the -sittings. It was a difficult task for the Solicitor-General to accuse -men like those seated on the prisoners' bench, who were the chief -combatants of July, and pronounced the "heroes of the Three Days," -those whom the Lieutenant-General had received, flattered and pampered -ten months back; the men whom Dupont (de l'Eure) referred to as his -friends, whom La Fayette had called his children and whom, when he was -no longer in the Ministry, Laffitte had called his accomplices. As a -matter of fact, the Laffitte Ministry had fallen on 9 March. The cause -of that fall could not have been more creditable to the former friend -of King Louis-Philippe; he had found that five months of political -friction with the new monarch had been enough to turn him into one of -his most irreconcilable enemies. It was the time when three nations -rose up and demanded their independent national rights: Belgium, Poland -and Italy. People's minds were nearly settled about Belgium's fate; -but not so with regard to Poland and Italy; and all generous hearts -felt sympathy with those two Sisters in Liberty who were groaning, the -one beneath the sword blade of the Czar, the other under Austria's -chastisement. Attention was riveted in particular upon Modena. The -Duke of Modena had fled from his duchy when he heard the news of the -insurrection of Bologna, on the night of 4 February. The Cabinet at the -Palais-Royal received a communication upon the subject from the Cabinet -of Vienna, informing it that the Austrian government was preparing -to intervene to replace Francis IV. upon his ducal throne. It was -curious news and an exorbitant claim to make. The French Government had -proclaimed the principle of non-intervention; now, upon what grounds -could Austria interfere in the Duchy of Modena? Austria had, indeed, -a right of reversion over that duchy; but the right was entirely -conditional, and, until the day when all the male heirs of the reigning -house should be extinct, Modena could be a perfectly independent duchy. -Such demands were bound to revolt so upright and fair a mind as M. -Laffitte's, and he vowed in full council that, if Austria persisted in -that insolent claim, France would go to war with her. - -M. Sébastiani, Minister for Foreign Affairs, was asked by the President -of the Council to reply to this effect, which he engaged to do. -Maréchal Maison was then at the embassy of Vienna. He was one of those -stiff and starched diplomatists who preserve the habit, from their -military career, of addressing kings and emperors with their hand upon -their sword hilts. I knew him very well, and in spite of our difference -of age, with some degree of intimacy; a charming woman with a pacific -name who was a mere friend to me, but who was a good deal more than -a friend to him, served as the bond between the young poet and the -old soldier. The Marshal was commissioned to present M. Laffitte's -_Ultimatum_ to Austria. It was succinct: "Non-intervention or War!" -The system of peace at any price adopted by Louis-Philippe was not yet -known at that period. Austria replied as though she knew the secret -thoughts of the King of France. Her reply was both determined and -insolent. This is it-- - - "Until now, Austria has allowed France to advance the - principle of non-intervention; but it is time France knew - that we do not intend to recognise it where Italy is - concerned. We shall carry our arms wherever insurrection - spreads. If that intervention leads to war--then war there - must be! We prefer to incur the chances of war than to be - exposed to perish in the midst of outbreaks of rebellion." - -With the instruction the Marshal received, the note above quoted did -not permit of any agreement being reached; consequently, at the same -time that he sent M. de Metternich's reply to King Louis-Philippe, he -wrote to General Guilleminot, our ambassador at Constantinople, that -France was forced into war and that he must make an appeal to the -ancient alliance between Turkey and France. Marshal Maison added in a -postscript to M. de Metternich's note-- - - "Not a moment must be lost in which to avert the danger with - which France is threatened; we must, consequently, take the - initiative and pour a hundred thousand men into Piedmont." - -This dispatch was addressed to M. Sébastiani, Minister for Foreign -Affairs, with whom, in his capacity as ambassador, Marshal Maison -corresponded direct; it reached the Hôtel des Capucines on 4 March. M. -Sébastiani, a king's man, communicated it to the king, but, important -though it was, never said one word about it to M. Laffitte. That -is the fashion in which the king, following the first principle of -constitutional government, reigned, but did not rule. How did the -_National_ obtain that dispatch? We should be very puzzled to say; but, -on the 8th, it was reproduced word for word in the second column of -that journal. M. Laffitte read it by chance, as La Fayette had read his -dismissal from the commandantship of the National Guard by accident. M. -Laffitte got into a carriage, paper in hand and drove to M. Sébastiani. -He could not deny it: the Marshal alleged such poor reasons, that -M. Laffitte saw he had been completely tricked. He went on to the -Palais-Royal, where he hoped to gain explanations which the Minister -for Foreign Affairs refused to give him; but the king knew nothing at -all; the king was busy looking after the building at Neuilly and did -not trouble his head about affairs of State, he took no initiative and -approved of his ministry. M. Laffitte must settle the matter with his -colleagues. There was so much apparent sincerity and naïve simplicity -in the tone, attitude and appearance of the king that Laffitte thought -he could not be an accomplice in the plot. Next day, therefore, he -took the king's advice and had an explanation with his colleagues. -That explanation led, there and then, to the resignation of the leader -of the Cabinet, who returned to his home with his spirit less broken, -perhaps, by the prospect of his ruined house and lost popularity than -by his betrayed friendship. M. Laffitte was a noble-hearted man who had -given himself wholly to the king, and behold, in the very face of the -insult that had been put upon France, the king, in his new attitude -of preserver of peace, threw him over just as he had thrown over La -Fayette and Dupont (de l'Eure). Laffitte was flung remorselessly and -without pity into the gulf wherein Louis-Philippe flung his popular -favourites when he had done with them. The new ministry was made up -all ready, in advance; the majority of its members were taken from -the old one. The only new ministers were Casimir Périer, Baron Louis -and M. de Rigny. The various offices of the members were as follows: -Casimir Périer, Prime Minister; Sébastiani, Minister for Foreign -Affairs; Baron Louis, Minister of Finance; Barthe, Minister of Justice; -Montalivet, Minister of Education and Religious Instruction; Comte -d'Argout, Minister of Commerce and Public Works; de Rigny, Minister -for the Admiralty. The new ministry nearly lost its prime minister the -very next day after he had been appointed, viz., on 13 March 1831. It -was only with regret that Madame Adélaïde and the Duc d'Orléans saw -Casimir Périer come into power. Was it from regret at the ingratitude -shown to M. Laffitte? or was it fear on account of M. Casimir Périer's -well-known character? Whatever may have been the case, on 14 March, -when the new president of the Council appeared at the Palais-Royal to -pay his respects at court that night, he found a singular expression -upon all faces: the courtiers laughed, the aides-decamp whispered -together, the servants asked whom they must announce. M. le duc -d'Orléans turned his back upon him, Madame Adélaïde was as cold as ice, -the queen was grave. The king alone waited for him, smiling, at the -bottom of the salon. The minister had to pass through a double hedge of -people who wished to repel him, malevolent to him, in order to reach -the king. The rival and successor to Laffitte was angry, proud and -impatient; he resolved to take his revenge at once. He knew the man who -was indispensable to the situation; Thiers was not yet sufficiently -popular, M. Guizot was already too little so. Casimir Périer went -straight to the king.. - -"Sire," he said to him, "I have the honour to ask you for a private -interview." - -The king, amazed, walked before him and led him into his cabinet. The -door was scarcely closed when, without circumlocution or ambiguity, the -new prime minister burst out with-- - -"Sire, I have the honour to offer my resignation to Your Majesty." - -"Eh! good Lord, Monsieur Périer," exclaimed the king, "and on what -grounds?" - -"Sire," replied the exasperated minister, "that I have enemies at the -clubs, in the streets, in the Chamber matters nothing; but enemies at -the very court to which I am bold enough unreservedly to offer my whole -fortune is too much to endure! and I do not feel equal, I confess to -Your Majesty, to face these many forms of hatred." - -The king felt the thrust, and realised that it must be warded off, -under the circumstances, for it might be fatal to himself. Then, in -his most flattering tones and with that seductive charm of manner in -which he excelled, the king set himself to smooth down this minister's -wounded pride. But with the inflexible haughtiness of his character, -Casimir Périer persisted. - -"Sire," he said, "I have the honour to offer my resignation to Your -Majesty." - -The king saw he must make adequate amends. - -"Wait ten minutes here, my dear Monsieur Périer," he said; "and in ten -minutes you shall be free." - -The minister bowed in silence, and let the king leave him. - -In that ten minutes the king explained to the queen, to his sister and -his son, the urgent necessity there was for him to keep M. Casimir -Périer, and told them the resolution the latter had just taken to hand -in his resignation. This was a fresh order altogether, and in a few -seconds it was made known to all whom it concerned. The king opened the -door of his cabinet, where the minister was still biting his nails and -stamping his feet. - -"Come!" he said. - -Casimir Périer bowed lightly and followed the king. But thanks to the -new command, everything was changed. The queen was gracious; Madame -Adélaïde was affable; M. le duc d'Orléans had turned round, the -aides-de-camp stood in a group ready to obey at the least sign from the -king, and also from the minister; the courtiers smiled obsequiously. -Finally, the lackeys, when M. Périer reached the door, flew into the -ante-chambers and rushed down the stairs crying, "M. le president du -Conseil's carriage!" A more rapid and startling reparation could not -possibly have been obtained. Thus Casimir Périer remained a minister, -and the new president of the council then started that arduous career -which was to end in the grave in a year's time; he died only a few -weeks before his antagonist Lamarque. - -This was how matters stood when we took a fresh course, in the full -tide of the trial of the artillery, to speak of M. Laffitte. - -But, once for all, we are not writing history, only jotting down our -recollections, and often we find that at the very moment when we have -galloped off to follow up some byway of our memory we have left behind -us events of the first importance. We are then obliged to retrace our -steps, to make our apologies to those events, as the king had to do to -M. Casimir Périer; to take them, as it were, by the hand, and to lead -them back to our readers, who perhaps do not always accord them quite -such a gracious reception as that which the Court of the Palais-Royal -gave to the President of the Council on the evening of 14 March 1831. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - - Trial of the artillerymen--Procureur-général - Miller--Pescheux d'Herbinville--Godefroy - Cavaignac--Acquittal of the accused--The ovation they - received--Commissioner Gourdin--The cross of July--The red - and black ribbon--Final rehearsals of _Antony_ - - -We have mentioned what a difficult matter it was for a -solicitor-general to prosecute the men who were still black from the -powder of July, such men as Trélat, Cavaignac, Guinard, Sambuc, Danton, -Chaparre and their fellow-prisoners. All these men, moreover (except -Commissioner Gourdin, against whose morality, by the way, there was -absolutely nothing to be said), lived by their private fortune or -their own talents, and were, for the most part, more of them well to -do than poorly off. They could therefore only be proceeded against on -account of an opinion regarded as dangerous from the point of view of -the Government, though they were undoubtedly disinterested. Miller, -the solicitor-general, had the wit to grasp the situation, and at the -outset of his charge against the prisoners he turned to the accused and -said-- - -"We lament as much as any other person to see these honoured citizens -at the bar, whose private life seems to command much esteem; young -men, rich in noble thoughts and generous inspirations. It is not for -us, gentlemen, to seek to call in question their title to public -consideration, or to the good-will of their fellow-citizens, and to a -recognition of the services they have rendered their country." - -The audience, visibly won over by this preamble, made a murmur of -approbation which it would certainly have repressed if it had had -patience to wait the sequel. The attorney-general went on-- - -"But do the services that they have been able to render the State -give them the right to shake it to its very foundations, if it is not -administered according to doctrines which suited imaginations that, as -likely, as not, are ill-regulated? Is the impetuous ardour of youth -enough excuse for legalising actions which alarm all good citizens, -and harm all interests? Must peaceable men become the victims of the -culpable machinations of those who talk about liberty, and yet attack -the liberty of others, and boast that they are working for the good of -France while they violently break all social bonds?" - -Judge in what a contemptuous attitude the prisoners received these -tedious and banal observations. Far from dreaming of defending -themselves, they felt that as soon as the moment should come for -charging it would be they who should take the offensive. Pescheux -d'Herbinville, the leader, burst forth in fury and crushed both judges -and attorney-general. - -"Monsieur Pescheux d'Herbinville," President Hardouin said to him, "you -are accused of having had arms in your possession, and of distributing -them. Do you admit the fact?" - -Pescheux d'Herbinville rose. He was a fine-looking young man of -twenty-two or three, fair, carefully dressed, and of refined manners; -the cartridges that had been seized at his house were wrapped in -silk-paper, and ornamented with rose-coloured favours. - -"I not only," he said, "admit the fact, monsieur le président, but I am -proud of it.... Yes, I had arms, and plenty of them too! And I am going -to tell you how I got them. In July I took three posts in succession at -the head of a handful of men in the midst of the firing; the arms that -I had were those of the soldiers I had disarmed. Now, I fought for the -people, and these soldiers were firing on the people. Am I guilty for -taking away the arms which in the hands in which they were found were -dealing death to citizens?" - -A round of applause greeted these words. - -"As to distributing them," continued the prisoner, "it is quite true -I did it; and not only did I distribute them, but believing that, in -our unsettled times, it was as well to acquaint the friends of France -with their enemies, at my own expense, although I am not a rich man, I -provided some of the men who had followed me with the uniform of the -National Guard. It was to those same men I distributed the arms, to -which, indeed, they had a right, since they helped me to take them. You -have asked me what I have to say in my defence, and I have told you." - -He sat down amidst loud applause, which only ceased after repeated -orders from the president. - -Next came Cavaignac's turn. - -"You accuse me of being a Republican," he said; "I uphold that -accusation both as a title of honour and a paternal heritage. My -father was one of those who proclaimed the Republic from the heart of -the National Convention, before the whole of Europe, then victorious; -he defended it before the armies, and that was why he died in exile, -after twelve years of banishment; and whilst the Restoration itself was -obliged to let France have the fruits of that revolution which he had -served, whilst it overwhelmed with favours those men whom the Republic -had created, my father and his colleagues alone suffered for the great -cause which many others betrayed! It was the last homage their impotent -old age could offer to the country they had vigorously defended in -their youth!... That cause, gentlemen, colours all my feelings as his -son; and the principles which it embraced are my heritage. Study has -naturally strengthened the bent given to my political opinions, and -now that the opportunity is given me to utter a word which multitudes -proscribe, I pronounce it without affection, and without fear, at heart -and from conviction I am a Republican!" - -It was the first time such a declaration of principles had been made -boldly and publicly before both the court of law and society; it was -accordingly received at first in dumb stupor, which was immediately -followed by a thunder of applause. The president realised that he could -not struggle against such enthusiasm; he let the applause calm down, -and Cavaignac continue his speech. Godefroy Cavaignac was an orator, -and more eloquent than his brother, although he, like General Lamarque -and General Foy, gave utterance to some eminently French sentiments -which enter more deeply into people's hearts than the most beautiful -speeches. Cavaignac continued with increasing triumph. Finally, he -summed up his opinions and hopes, and those of the party, which, then -almost unnoticed, was to triumph seventeen years later-- - -"The Revolution! Gentlemen, you attack the Revolution! What folly! The -Revolution includes the whole nation, except those who exploit it; it -is our country, fulfilling the sacred mission of freeing the people -entrusted to it by Providence; it is the whole of France, doing its -duty to the world! As for ourselves, we believe in our hearts that we -have done our duty to France, and every time she has need of us, no -matter what she, our revered mother, asks of us, we, her faithful sons, -will obey her!" - -It is impossible to form any idea of the effect this speech produced; -pronounced as it was in firm tones, with a frank and open face, -eyes flashing with enthusiasm and heartfelt conviction. From that -moment the cause was won: to have found these men guilty would have -caused a riot, perhaps even a revolution. The questions put to the -jury were forty-six in number. At a quarter to twelve, noon, the -jurymen went into their consulting room: they came out at half-past -three, and pronounced the accused men not guilty on any one of the -forty-six indictments. There was one unanimous shout of joy, almost -of enthusiasm, clapping of hands and waving of hats; everyone rushed -out, striding over the benches, overturning things in their way; they -wanted to shake hands with any one of the nineteen prisoners, whether -they knew him or not. They felt that life, honour and future principles -had been upheld by those prisoners arraigned at the bar. In the midst -of this hubbub the president announced that they were set at liberty. -There remained, therefore, nothing further for the accused to do but -to escape the triumphant reception awaiting them. Victories, in these -cases, are often worse than defeats: I recollect the triumph of -Louis Blanc on 15 May. Guinard, Cavaignac and the students from the -schools succeeded in escaping the ovation: instead of leaving by the -door of the Conciergerie, which led to the Quai des Lunettes, they -left by the kitchen door and passed out unrecognised. Trélat, Pescheux -d'Herbinville and three friends (Achille Roche, who died young and -very promising, Avril and Lhéritier) had got into a carriage, and had -told the driver to drive as fast as he could; but they were recognised -through the closed windows. Instantly the carriage was stopped, the -horses taken out, the doors opened; they had to get out, pass through -the crowd, bow in response to the cheering and walk through waving -handkerchiefs, the flourishing of hats and shouts of "Vivent les -républicains!" as far as Trélat's home. Guilley, also recognised, was -still less fortunate: they carried him in their arms, in spite of all -his protests and efforts to escape. Only one of them, who left by the -main entrance, passed through the crowd unrecognised, Commissionaire -Gourdin, who pushed a hand-cart containing his luggage and that of his -comrades in captivity, which he carried back home. - -This acquittal sent me back to my rehearsals; and it was almost -settled for _Antony_ to be run during the last days of April. But the -last days of April were to find us thrown back into an altogether -different sort of agitation. The law of 13 December 1830 with respect -to national rewards had ordained the creation of a new order of merit -which was to be called the _Cross of July._ There had been a reason -for this creation which might excuse the deed, and which had induced -republicans to support the law. A decoration which recalls civil war -and a victory won by citizens over fellow-citizens, by the People -over the Army or by the Army over the People, is always a melancholy -object; but, as I say, there was an object underlying it different from -this. It was to enable people to recognise one another on any given -occasion, and to know, consequently, on whom to rely. These crosses -had been voted by committees comprised of fighters who were difficult -to deceive; for, out of their twelve members, of which, I believe, -each bureau consisted, there were always two or three who, if the cross -were misplaced on some unworthy breast, were able to set the error -right, or to contradict it. The part I took in the Revolution was -sufficiently public for this cross to be voted to me without disputes; -but, besides, as soon as the crosses were voted, as the members of the -different committees could not give each other crosses, I was appointed -a member of the committee commissioned to vote crosses to the first -distributors. The institution was therefore, superficially, quite -popular and fundamentally Republican. Thus we were astounded when, on -30 April, an order appeared, countersigned by Casimir Périer, laying -down the following points-- - - "The Cross of July shall consist of a three-branched star. - The reverse side shall bear on it: 27, 28 and 29 _July_ - 1830. It shall have for motto: _Given by the King of the - French._ It shall be worn on a blue ribbon edged with red. - The citizens decorated with the July Cross SHALL BE PREPARED - TO SWEAR FIDELITY TO THE KING OF THE FRENCH, and obedience - to the Constitutional Charter and to the laws of the realm." - -The order was followed by a list of the names of the citizens to whom -the cross was awarded. I had seen my name on the list, with great -delight, and on the same day I, who had never worn any cross, except -on solemn occasions, bought a red and black ribbon and put it in my -buttonhole. The red and black ribbon requires an explanation. We had -decided, in our programme which was thus knocked on the head by the -Royal command, that the ribbon was to be red, edged with black. The red -was to be a reminder of the blood that had been shed; the black, for -the mourning worn. I did not, then, feel that I could submit to that -portion of the order which decreed blue ribbon edged with red,--any -more than to the motto: _Given by the King_, or to the oath of fidelity -to the king, the Constitutional Charter and the laws of the kingdom. -Many followed my example, and, at the Tuileries, where I went for a -walk to see if some agent of authority would come and pick a quarrel -with me on account of my ribbon, I found a dozen decorated persons, -among whom were two or three of my friends, who, no doubt, had gone -there with the same intention as mine. Furthermore, the National Guard -was, at that date, on duty at the Tuileries, and they presented arms -to the red and black ribbon as to that of the Légion d'honneur. At -night, we learnt that there was to be a meeting at Higonnet's, to -protest against the colour of the ribbon, the oath and the motto. I -attended and protested; and, next day, I went to my rehearsal wearing -my ribbon. That was on 1 May; we had arrived at general rehearsals, -and, as I have said, I was becoming reconciled to my piece, without, -however,--so different was it from conventional notions--having any -idea whether the play would succeed or fail. But the success which the -two principal actors would win was incontestable. Bocage had made use -of every faculty to bring out the originality of the character he had -to represent, even to the physical defects we have notified in him. - -Madame Dorval had made the very utmost out of the part of Adèle. She -enunciated her words with admirable precision, all the striking points -were brought out, except one which she had not yet discovered. "Then I -am lost!" she had to exclaim, when she heard of her husband's arrival. -Well, she did not know how to render those four words: "Then I am -lost!" And yet she realised that, if said properly, they would produce -a splendid effect. All at once an illumination flashed across her mind. - -"Are you here, author?" she asked, coming to the edge of the footlights -to scan the orchestra. - -"Yes ... what is it?" I replied. - -"How did Mlle. Mars say: 'Then I am lost!'?" - -"She was sitting down, and got up." - -"Good!" replied Dorval, returning to her place, "I will be standing, -and will sit down." - -The rehearsal was finished; Alfred de Vigny had been present, and -given me some good hints. I had made Antony an atheist, he made me -obliterate that blot in the part. He predicted a grand success for me. -We parted, he persisting in his opinion, I shaking my head dubiously. -Bocage led me into his dressing-room to show me his costume. I say -_costume_, for although Antony was clad like ordinary mortals, in -a cravat, frock-coat, waistcoat and trousers, there had to be, on -account of the eccentricity of the character, something peculiar in -the set of the cravat and shape of the waistcoat, in the cut of the -coat and in the set of the trousers. I had, moreover, given Bocage my -own ideas on the subject, which he had adapted to perfection; and, -seeing him in those clothes, people understood from the very first -that the actor did not represent just an ordinary man. It was settled -that the piece should be definitely given on 3 May; I had then only -two more rehearsals before the great day. The preceding ones had been -sadly neglected by me; I attended the last two with extreme assiduity. -When Madame Dorval reached the sentence which had troubled her for -long, she kept her word: she was standing and sank into an armchair as -though the earth had given way under her feet, and exclaimed, "Then -I am lost!" in such accents of terror that the few persons who were -present at the rehearsal broke into cheers. The final general rehearsal -was held with closed doors; it is always a mistake to introduce even -the most faithful of friends to a general rehearsal: on the day of the -performance they tell the plot of the play to their neighbours, or walk -about the corridors talking in loud voices, and creaking their boots on -the floor. I have never taken much credit to myself for giving theatre -tickets to my friends for the first performance; but I have always -repented of giving them tickets of admission for a general rehearsal. -Against this it will be argued that spectators can give good advice: in -the first place, it is too late to act upon any important suggestion -at general rehearsals; then, those who really offer valuable -advice, during the course of rehearsals, are the actors, firemen, -scene-shifters, supernumeraries and everybody, in fact, who lives by -the stage, and who know the theatre much better than all the Bachelors -of Arts and Academicians in existence. Well, then! my theatrical world -had predicted _Antony's_ success, scene-shifters, firemen craning their -necks round the wings, actors and actresses and supers going into the -auditorium and watching the scenes in which they didn't appear. The -night of production had come. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - - The first representation of _Antony_--The play, the actors, - the public--_Antony_ at the Palais-Royal--Alterations of the - _dénoûment_ - - -The times were unfavourable for literature: all minds were turned -upon politics, and disturbances were flying in the air as, on hot -summer evenings, swifts fly overhead with their shrill screams, and -black-winged bats wheel round. My piece was as well put on as it could -be; but, except for the expenditure of talent which the actors were -going to make, M. Crosnier had gone to no other cost; not a single new -carpet or decoration, not even a salon was renovated. The work might -fail without regret, for it had only cost the manager the time spent -over the rehearsals. - -The curtain rose, Madame Dorval, in her gauze dress and town attire, a -society woman, in fact, was a novelty at the theatre, where people had -recently seen her in _Les Deux Forçats_, and in _Le Joueur_: so her -early scenes only met with a half-hearted success; her harsh voice, -round shoulders and peculiar gestures, of which she so often made use -that, in the scenes which contained no passionate action, they became -merely vulgar, naturally did not tell in favour of the play or the -actress. Two or three admirably true inflections, however, found grace -with the audience, but did not arouse its enthusiasm sufficiently to -extract one single cheer from it. It will be recollected that Bocage -has very little to do in the first act: he is brought in fainting, -and the only chance he has for any effect is where he tears off the -bandage from his wound, uttering, as he faints away for the second -time: "And now I shall remain, shall I not?" Only after that sentence -did the audience begin to understand the piece, and to feel the -hidden dramatic possibilities of a work whose first act ended thus. -The curtain fell in the midst of applause. I had ordered the intervals -between the acts to be short. I went behind the scenes myself to -hurry the actors, managers and scene-shifters. In five minutes' time, -before the excitement had had time to cool down, the curtain went up -again. The second act fell to the share of Bocage entirely. He threw -himself vigorously into it, but not egotistically, allowing Dorval -as much part as she had a right to take; he rose to a magnificent -height in the scene of bitter misanthropy and amorous threatening, a -scene, by the bye, which--except for that of the foundlings--took up -pretty nearly the whole act. I repeat that Bocage was really sublime -in these parts: intelligence of mind, nobleness of heart, expression -of countenance,--the very type of the Antony, as I had conceived him, -was presented to the public. After the act, whilst the audience were -still clapping, I went behind to congratulate him heartily. He was -glowing with enthusiasm and encouragement, and Dorval told him, with -the frankness of genius, how delighted she was with him. Dorval had -no fears at all. She knew that the fourth and fifth acts were hers, -and quietly waited her turn. When I re-entered the theatre it was in a -state of excitement; one could feel the air charged with those emotions -which go to the making of great success. I began to believe that I was -right, and the whole world wrong, even my manager; I except Alfred de -Vigny, who had predicted success. My readers know the third act, it is -all action, brutal action; with regard to violence, it bears a certain -likeness to the third act of _Henri III._, where the Duc de Guise -crushes his wife's wrist to force her to give Saint-Mégrin a rendezvous -in her own handwriting. Happily, the third act at the Théâtre-Français -having met with success, it made a stepping-stone for that at the -Porte-Saint-Martin. Antony, in pursuit of Adèle, is the first to reach -a village inn, where he seizes all the post-horses to oblige her to -stop there, chooses the room that suits him best of the only two in the -house, arranges an entrance into Adèle's room from the balcony, and -withdraws as he hears the sound of her carriage wheels. Adèle enters -and begs to be supplied with horses. She is only a few leagues from -Strassburg, where she is on her way to join her husband; the horses -taken away by Antony are not to be found: Adèle is obliged to spend the -night in the inn. She takes every precaution for her safety, which, the -moment she is alone, becomes useless, because of the opening by the -balcony, forgotten in her nervous investigations. Madame Dorval was -adorable in her feminine simplicity and instinctive terrors. She spoke -as no one had spoken, or ever will speak them, those two extremely -simple sentences: "But this door will not shut!" and "No accident has -ever happened in your hotel, Madame?" Then, when the mistress of the -inn has withdrawn, she decides to go into her bedroom. Hardly had she -disappeared before a pane of the window falls broken to atoms, an arm -appears and unlatches the catch, the window is opened and both Antony -and Adèle appear, the one on the balcony of her window, the other on -the threshold of the room. At the sight of Antony, Adèle utters a cry. -The rest of the scene was terrifyingly realistic. To stop her from -crying out again, Antony placed a handkerchief on Adèle's mouth, drags -her into the room, and the curtain falls as they are both entering it -together. There was a moment of silence in the house. Porcher, the man -whom I have pointed out as one of our three or four pretenders to the -crown as the most capable of bringing about a restoration, was charged -with the office of producing my restoration, but hesitated to give the -signal. Mahomet's bridge was not narrower than the thread which at -that moment hung Antony suspended between success and failure. Success -carried the day, however. A great uproar succeeded the frantic rounds -of applause which burst forth in a torrent. They clapped and howled -for five minutes. When I have failures, rest assured I will not spare -myself; but, meanwhile, I ask leave to be allowed to tell the truth. On -this occasion the success belonged to the two actors; I ran behind the -theatre to embrace them. No Adèle and no Antony to be found! I thought -for a moment that, carried away by the enthusiasm of the performance, -they had resumed the play at the words, "_Antony lui jette un mouchoir -sur la bouche, et remporte dans sa chambre_," and had continued the -piece. I was mistaken: they were both changing their costumes and were -shut in their dressing-rooms. I shouted all kinds of endearing terms -through the door. - -"Are you satisfied?" Bocage inquired. - -"Enchanted." - -"Bravo! the rest of the piece belongs to Dorval." - -"You will not leave her in the lurch?" - -"Oh! be easy on that score!" - -I ran to Dorval's door. - -"It is superb, my child--splendid! magnificent!" - -"Is that you, my big bow-wow?" - -"Yes." - -"Come in, then!" - -"But the door is fast." - -"To everybody but you." She opened it; she was unstrung; and, half -undressed as she was, she flung herself into my arms. - -"I think we have secured it, my dear!" - -"What?" - -"Why! a success, of course!" - -"H'm! h'm!" - -"Are you not satisfied?" - -"Yes, quite." - -"Hang it! You would be hard to please, if you were not." - -"It seems to me, however, that we have passed out of the worst -troubles!" - -"True, all has gone well so far; but ..." - -"But what, come, my big bow-wow! Oh! I do love you for giving me such a -fine part!" - -"Did you see the society women, eh?" - -"No." - -"What did they say of me?" - -"But I did not see them ..." - -"You will see them?" - -"Oh yes." - -"Then you will repeat what they say ... but frankly, mind." - -"Of course." - -"Look, there is my ball dress." - -"Pretty swell, I fancy!" - -"Oh! big dog, do you know how much you have cost me?" - -"No." - -"Eight hundred francs!" - -"Come here." I whispered a few words in her ear. - -"Really?" she exclaimed. - -"Certainly!" - -"You will do that?" - -"Of course, since I have said so." - -"Kiss me." - -"No." - -"Why not?" - -"I never kiss people when I make them a present." - -"Why?" - -"I expect them to kiss me." - -She threw her arms round my neck. - -"Come now, good luck!" I said to her. - -"And you must have it too." - -"Courage? I am going to seek it." - -"Where?" - -"At the Bastille." - -"At the Bastille?" - -"Yes, I have a notion the beginning of the fourth act will not get on -so well." - -"Why not?" - -"Come now! the fourth act is delightful: I will answer for it." - -"Yes, you will make the end go, but not the beginning." - -"Ah I yes, that is a _feuilleton_ which Grailly speaks." - -"Bah! it will succeed all the same: the audience is enthusiastic; we -can feel that, all of us." - -"Ah I you feel that?" - -"Then, too, see you, my big bow-wow; there are people in the stalls of -the house, _gentlemen_ too! who stare at me as they never have stared -before." - -"I don't wonder." - -"I say ..." - -"What?" - -"If I am going to become the rage?" - -"It only depends on yourself." - -"Liar!" - -"I swear it only depends on yourself." - -"Yes ... but ... Alfred, eh?" - -"Exactly!" - -"Upon my word, so much the worse! We shall see." - -The voice of the stage-manager called Madame Dorval! - -"Can we begin?" - -"No, no, no; I am not dressed yet, I am only in my chemise! He's a -pretty fellow, that Moëssard! What would the audience say?... It is -you who have hindered me like this ... Go off with you then!" - -"Put me out." - -"Go! go! go!" - -She kissed me three times and pushed me to the door. Poor lips, then -fresh and smiling and trembling, which I was to see closed and frozen -for ever at the touch of death! - -I went outside; as I was in need of air. I met Bixio in the corridors. - -"Come with me," I said. - -"Where the dickens are you off to?" - -"I am going for a walk." - -"What! a walk?" - -"Yes!" - -"Just when the curtain is going to rise?" - -"Exactly! I do not feel sure about the fourth act and would much rather -it began without me." - -"Are you sure about the end?" - -"Oh! the end is a different matter ... We will come back for that, -never fear!" - -And we hurried out on to the boulevard. - -"Ah!" I exclaimed, as I breathed the air. - -"What is the matter with you?... Is it your piece that is upsetting -you like this?" - -"Get along, hang my piece!" - -I dragged Bixio in the direction of the Bastille. I do not remember -what we talked of. I only know we walked for half a league, there and -back, chattering and laughing. If anybody had said to the passers-by, -"You see that great lunatic of a man over there? He is the author -of the play being acted at this very moment at the theatre of la -Porte-Saint-Martin!" they would indeed have been amazed. - -I came in again at the right moment, at the scene of the insult. The -_feuilleton_, as Dorval called it, meaning the apology for this modern -style of drama, the real preface to _Antony_, had passed over without -hindrance and had even been applauded. I had a box close to the stage -and I made a sign to Dorval that I was there; she signalled back that -she saw me. Then the scene began between Adèle and the Vicomtesse, -which is summed up in these words, "But I have done nothing to this -woman!" Next comes the scene between Adèle and Antony, where Adèle -repeatedly exclaims, "She is his mistress!" - -Well! I say it after twenty-two years have passed by,--and during those -years I have composed many plays, and seen many pieces acted, and -applauded many actors,--he who never saw Dorval act those two scenes, -although he may have seen the whole repertory of modern drama, can have -no conception how far pathos can be carried. - -The reader knows how this act ends; the Vicomtesse enters; Adèle, -surprised in the arms of Antony, utters a cry and disappears. Behind -the Vicomtesse, Antony's servant enters in his turn. He has ridden full -gallop from Strassburg, to announce to his master the return of Adèle's -husband. Antony dashes from the stage like a madman, or one driven -desperate, crying, "Wretch! shall I arrive in time?" - -I ran behind the scenes. Dorval was already on the stage, uncurling -her hair and pulling her flowers to pieces; she had at times her -moments of transports of passion, exceeding those of the actress. The -scene-shifters were altering the scenes, whilst Dorval was acting her -part. The audience applauded frantically. "A hundred francs," I cried -to the shifters, "if the curtain be raised again before the applause -ceases!" In two minutes' time the three raps were given: the curtain -rose and the scene-shifters had won their hundred francs. The fifth act -began literally before the applause for the fourth had died down. I had -one moment of acute anguish. In the middle of the terrible scene where -the two lovers, caught in a net of sorrows, are striving to extricate -themselves, but can find no means of either living or dying together, a -second before Dorval exclaimed, "Then I am lost!" I had, in the stage -directions, arranged that Bocage should move the armchair ready to -receive Adèle, when she is overwhelmed at the news of her husband's -arrival. And Bocage forgot to turn the chair in readiness. But Dorval -was too much carried away by passion to be put out by such a trifle. -Instead of falling on the cushion, she fell on to the arm of the chair, -and uttered a cry of despair, with such a piercing grief of soul -wounded, torn, broken, that the whole audience rose to its feet. This -time the cheers were not for me at all, but for the actress and for her -alone, for her marvellous, magnificent performance! The _dénoûment_ is -known; it is utterly unexpected, and is summed up in a single phrase -of six startling words. The door is burst open by M. de Hervey just as -Adèle falls on a sofa, stabbed by Antony. - -"Dead?" cries Baron de Hervey. - -"Yes, dead!" coldly answers Antony. _Elle me résistait: je l'ai -assassinée!_ And he flings his dagger at the husband's feet. The -audience gave vent to such cries of terror, dismay and sorrow, that -probably a third of the audience hardly heard these words, a necessary -supplement to the piece, which, however, without them would be -nothing but an ordinary intrigue of adultery, unravelled by a simple -assassination. The effect, all the same, was tremendous. They called -for the author with frantic cries. Bocage came forward and told them. -Then they called for Antony and Adèle again, and both returned to take -their share in such an ovation as they had never had, nor ever would -have again. For they had both attained to the highest achievement in -their art! I flew from my box to go to them, without noticing that the -passages were blocked with spectators coming out of their seats. I had -not taken four steps before I was recognised; then I had my turn, as -the author of the play. A crowd of young persons of my own age (I was -twenty-eight), pale, scared, breathless, rushed at me. They pulled -me right and left and embraced me. I wore a green coat buttoned up -from top to bottom; they tore the tails of it to shreds. I entered -the green-room, as Lord Spencer entered his, in a round jacket; the -rest of my coat had gone into a state of relics. They were stupefied -behind the scenes; they had never seen a success taking such a form -before, never before had applause gone so straight from the audience -to the actors; and what an audience it was too! The fashionable -world, the exquisites who take the best boxes at theatres, those who -only applaud from habit, who, this time, made themselves hoarse with -shouting so loudly, and had split their gloves with clapping! Crosnier -was hidden. Bocage was as happy as a child. Dorval was mad! Oh, good -and brave-hearted friends, who, in the midst of their own triumphs, -seemed to enjoy my success more even than their own! who put their -own talent on one side and loudly extolled the poet and the work! I -shall never forget that night; Bocage has not forgotten it either. -Only a week ago we were talking of it as though it had happened only -yesterday; and I am certain, if such matters are remembered in the -other world, Dorval remembers it too! Now, what became of us all after -we had been congratulated? I know not. Just as there is around every -luminous body a mist, so there was one over the rest of the evening and -night, which my memory, after a lapse of twenty-two years, is unable to -penetrate. In conclusion, one of the special features of the drama of -_Antony_ was that it kept the spectators spell-bound to the final fall -of the curtain. As the _morale_ of the work was contained in those -six words, which Bocage pronounced with such perfect dignity, "_Elle -me résistait: je l'ai assassinée!_" everybody remained to hear them, -and would not leave until they had been spoken, with the following -result. Two or three years after the first production of _Antony_, it -became the piece played at all benefit performances; to such an extent -that once they asked Dorval and Bocage to act it for the Palais-Royal -Theatre. I forget, and it does not matter, for whom the benefit was to -be performed. The play met with its accustomed success, thanks to the -acting of those two great artistes; only, the manager had been told the -wrong moment at which to call the curtain down! So it fell as Antony -is stabbing Adèle, and robbed the audience of the final _dénoûment._ -That was not what they wanted: it was the _dénoûment_ they meant to -have; so, instead of going they shouted loudly for _Le dénoûment! le -dénoûment!_ They clamoured to such an extent that the manager begged -the actors to let him raise the curtain again, and for the piece to be -concluded. - -Dorval, ever good-natured, resumed her pose in the armchair as the -dead woman, while they ran to find Antony. But he had gone into his -dressing-room, furious because they had made him miss his final -effect, and withdrawing himself into his tent, like Achilles; like -Achilles, too, he obstinately refused to come out of it. All the time -the audience went on clapping and shouting and calling, "Bocage! -Dorval!.... Dorval! Bocage!" and threatening to break the benches. The -manager raised the curtain, hoping that Bocage, when driven to bay, -would be compelled to come upon the stage. But Bocage sent the manager -about his business. Meanwhile, Dorval waited in her chair, with her -arms hung down, and head lying back. The audience waited, too, in -profound silence; but, when they saw that Bocage was not coming back, -they began cheering and calling their hardest. Dorval felt that the -atmosphere was becoming stormy, and raised her stiff arms, lifted her -bent head, rose, walked to the footlights, and, in the midst of the -silence which had settled down miraculously, at the first movement she -had ventured to make: - -"_Messieurs_" she said, "_Messieurs, je lui résistais, il m'a -assassinée!_" Then she made a graceful obeisance and left the stage, -hailed by thunders of applause. The curtain fell and the spectators -went away enchanted. They had had their _dénoûment_, with a variation, -it is true; but this variation was so clever, that one would have had -to be very ill-natured not to prefer it to the original form. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - - The inspiration under which I composed _Antony_--The - Preface--Wherein lies the moral of the piece--Cuckoldom, - Adultery and the Civil Code--_Quem nuptiœ demonstrant_--Why - the Critics exclaimed that my Drama was immoral--Account - given by the least malevolent among them--How prejudices - against bastardy are overcome - - -_Antony_ has given rise to so many controversies, that I must ask -permission not to leave the subject thus; moreover, this work is not -merely the most original and characteristic of all my works, but -it is one of those rare creations which influences its age. When I -wrote _Antony_, I was in love with a woman of whom, although far from -beautiful, I was horribly jealous; jealous because she was placed in -the same position as Adèle; her husband was an officer in the army; -and the fiercest jealousy that a man can feel is that roused by the -existence of a husband, seeing that one has no grounds for quarrelling -with a woman who possesses a husband, however jealous one may be of -him. One day she received a letter from her husband announcing his -return. I almost went mad. I went to one of my friends employed in -the War Office; three times the leave of absence, which was ready to -be sent off, disappeared; it was either torn up or burnt by him. The -husband did not return. What I suffered during that time of suspense, I -could not attempt to describe, although twenty-four years have passed -over, since that love departed the way of the poet Villon's "old -moons." But read _Antony_: that will tell you what I suffered! - -_Antony_ is not a drama, nor a tragedy! not even a theatrical piece; -_Antony_ is a description of love, of jealousy and of anger, in five -acts. Antony was myself, leaving out the assassination, and Adèle was -my mistress, leaving out the flight. Therefore, I took Byron's words -for my epigram, "_People said Childe Harold was myself ... it does not -matter if they did!_ "I put the following verses as my preface; they -are not very good; I could improve them now: but I shall do nothing of -the kind, they would lose their flavour. Poor as they are, they depict -two things well enough: the feverish time at which they were composed -and the disordered state of my heart at that period. - - "Que de fois tu m'as dit, aux heures du délire, - Quand mon front tout à coup devenait soucieux: - 'Sur ta bouche pourquoi cet effrayant sourire? - Pourquoi ces larmes dans tes yeux?' - - Pourquoi? C'est que mon cœur, au milieu des délices, - D'un souvenir jaloux constamment oppressé, - Froid au bonheur présent, va chercher ses supplices - Dans l'avenir et le passé! - - Jusque dans tes baisers je retrouve des peines, - Tu m'accables d'amour!... L'amour, je m'en souviens, - Pour la première fois s'est glissé dans tes veines - Sous d'autres baisers que les miens! - - Du feu des voluptés vainement tu m'enivres! - Combien, pour un beau jour, de tristes lendemains! - Ces charmes qu'à mes mains, en palpitant, tu livres, - Palpiteront sous d'autres mains! - - Et je ne pourrai pas, dans ma fureur jalouse, - De l'infidélité te réserver le prix; - Quelques mots à l'autel t'ont faite son épouse, - Et te sauvent de mon mépris. - - Car ces mots pour toujours ont vendu tes caresses; - L'amour ne les doit plus donner ni recevoir; - L'usage des époux à réglé les tendresses, - Et leurs baisers sont un devoir. - - Malheur, malheur à moi, que le ciel, en ce monde, - A jeté comme un hôte à ses lois étranger! - À moi qui ne sais pas, dans ma douleur profonde, - Souffrir longtemps sans me venger! - - Malheur! car une voix qui n'a rien de la terre - M'a dit: 'Pour ton bonheur, c'est sa mort qu'il te faut?' - Et cette voix m'a fait comprendre le mystère - Et du meurtre et de l'échafaud.... - - Viens donc, ange du mal, dont la voix me convie, - Car il est des instants où, si je te voyais, - Je pourrais, pour son sang, t'abandonner ma vie - Et mon âme ... si j'y croyais!" - -What do you think of my lines? They are impious, blasphemous and -atheistic, and, in fact, I will proclaim it, as I copy them here nearly -a quarter of a century after they were made, they would be inexcusably -poor if they had been written in cold blood. But they were written at a -time of passion, at one of those crises when a man feels driven to give -utterance to his sorrows, and to describe his sufferings in another -language than his ordinary speech. Therefore, I hope they may earn the -indulgence of both poets and philosophers. - -Now, was _Antony_ really as immoral a work as certain of the papers -made out? No; for, in all things, says an old French proverb (and, -since the days of Sancho Panza, we know that proverbs contain the -wisdom of nations), we must see the end first before passing judgment. -Now, this is how _Antony_ ends. Antony is engaged in a guilty intrigue, -is carried away by an adulterous passion, and kills his mistress to -save her honour as a wife, and dies afterwards on the scaffold, or at -least is sent to the galleys for the rest of his days. Very well, I -ask you, are there many young society people who would be disposed to -fling themselves into a sinful intrigue, to enter upon an adulterous -passion,--to become, in short, Antonys and Adèles, with the prospect in -view, at the end of their passion and romance, of death for the woman -and of the galleys for the man? People will answer me, that it is the -form in which it is put that is dangerous, that Antony makes murder -admirable, and Adèle justifies adultery. - -But what would you have! I cannot make my lovers hideous in character, -unsightly in looks and repulsive in manners. The love-making between -Quasimodo and Locuste would not be listened to beyond the third scene! -Take Molière for instance. Does not Angélique betray Georges Dandin -in a delightful way? And Valère steal from his father in a charming -fashion? And Don Juan deceive Dona Elvire in the most seductive of -language? Ah! Molière knew as well as the moderns what adultery was! He -died from its effects. What broke his heart, the heart which stopped -beating at the age of fifty-three? The smiles given to the young Baron -by la Béjart, her ogling looks at M. de Lauzun, a letter addressed -by her to a third lover and found the morning of that ill-fated -representation of the _Malade imaginaire_ which Molière could scarcely -finish! It is true that, in Molière's time, it was called cuckoldry and -made fun of; that nowadays, we style it adultery, and weep over it. -Why was it called cuckoldry in the seventeenth century and adultery in -the nineteenth? I will tell you. Because, in the seventeenth century, -the Civil Code had not been invented. The Civil Code? What has that to -do with it? You shall see. In the seventeenth century there existed -the rights of primogeniture, seniority, trusteeship and of entail; and -the oldest son inherited the name, title and fortune; the other sons -were either made M. le Chevalier or M. le Mousquetaire or M. l'Abbé, -as the case might be. They decorated the first with the Malta Cross, -the second they decked out in a helmet with buffalo tails, they endowed -the third with a clerical collar. While, as for the daughters, they -did not trouble at all about them; they married whom they liked if -they were pretty, and anybody who would have them if they were plain. -For those who either would not or could not be married there remained -the convent, that vast sepulchre for aching hearts. Now, although -three-quarters of the marriages were _marriages de convenance_, and -contracted between people who scarcely knew each other, the husband -was nearly always sure that his first male child was his own. This -first male child secured,--that is to say, the son to inherit his name, -title and fortune, when begotten by him,--what did it matter who was -the father of M. le Chevalier, M. le Mousquetaire or M. l'Abbé? It -was all the same to him, and often he did not even inquire into the -matter! Look, for example, at the anecdote of Saint-Simon and of M. de -Mortemart. - -But in our days, alas, it is very different! The law has abolished -the right of primogeniture; the Code forbids seniorities, entail and -trusteeships. Fortunes are divided equally between the children; -even daughters are not left out, but have the same right as sons to -the paternal inheritance. Now, from the moment that the _quem nuptiœ -demonstrant_ knows that children born during wedlock will share his -fortune in equal portions, he takes care those children shall be his -own; for a child, not his, sharing with his legitimate heirs, is -simply a thief. And this is the reason why adultery is a crime in the -nineteenth century, and why cuckoldom was only treated as a joke in the -seventeenth. - -Now, what is the reason that people do not exclaim at the immorality -of Angélique, who betrays Georges Dandin, of Valère who robs his papa, -of Don Juan who deceives Charlotte, Mathurine and Doña Elvire all at -the same time? Because all those characters--Georges Dandin, Harpagon, -Don Carlos, Don Alonzo and Pierrot--lived two or three centuries -before us, and did not talk as we do, nor were dressed as we dress; -because they wore breeches, jerkins, cloaks and plumed hats, so that -we do not recognise ourselves in them. But directly a modern author, -more bold than others, takes manners as they actually are, passion as -it really is, crime from its secret hiding-places and presents them -upon the stage in white ties, black coats, and trousers with straps -and patent leather boots--ah! each one sees himself as in a mirror, -and sneers instead of laughing, attacks instead of approving, groans -instead of applauding. Had I put Adèle into a dress of the time of -Isabella of Bavaria and Antony into a doublet of the time of Louis -d'Orléans, and if I had even made the adultery between brother-in-law -and sister-in-law, nobody would have objected. What critic dreams of -calling Œdipus immoral, who kills his father and marries his mother, -whose children are his sons, grandson and brothers all at the same -time, and ends, by putting out his own eyes to punish himself, a -futile action, since the whole thing was looked upon as the work of -fate? Not a single one! But would any poor devil be so silly as to -recognise a likeness of himself under either a Grecian cloak or a -Theban tunic? I would, indeed, like to have the opinion of some of the -moralists of the Press who condemned _Antony;_ that, for instance of -M. ---- who, at that time, was living openly with Madame ---- (I nearly -said who). If I put it before my readers, the revelation would not fail -to interest them. I can only lay my hands on one article; true, I am at -Brussels and write these lines after two in the morning. I exhume that -article from a very honest and innocent book--the _Annuaire historique -et universel_ by M. Charles Louis-Lesur. Here it is--it is one of the -least bitter of the criticisms. - - "_Théâtre de la Porte-Saint-Martin_ (3 May). - - _"First performance of Antony, a drama in five acts by M. - Alexandre Dumas._ - - "In an age and in a country where bastardy would be a - stain bearing the stamp of the law, sanctioned by custom - and a real social curse, against which a man, however - rich in talent, honours and fortune would struggle in - vain, the moral aim of the drama of _Antony_ could easily - be explained; but, nowadays when, as in France, _all - special privileges of birth are done away with_, those - of plebeian as well as of illegitimate origin, why this - passionate pleading, to which, necessarily, there cannot - be any contradiction and reply? Moral aim being altogether - non-existent in _Antony_, what else is there in the work? - Only the frenzied portrayal of an adulterous passion, which - stops at nothing to satisfy itself, which plays with dangers - and murder and death." - -Then follows an unamiable analysis of the piece and the criticism -continues-- - - "Such a conception no more bears the scrutiny of good - common sense than a crime brought before the Assize-courts - can sustain the scrutiny of a jury. The author, by placing - himself in an unusual situation of ungovernable and cruel - passions, which spare neither tears nor blood, removes - himself outside the pale of literature; his work is a - monstrosity, although we ought in fairness to say that some - parts are depicted with an uncommon degree of strength, - grace and beauty. Bocage and Madame Dorval distinguished - themselves by the talent and energy with which they played - the two leading parts of Antony and Adèle." - -My dear Monsieur Lesur, I could answer your criticism from beginning to -end; but I will only reply to the statements I have underlined, which -refer to bastardy, with which you start your article. Well, dear sir, -you are wrong; privileges of birth are by no means overcome, as you -said. I myself know and you also knew,--I say _you knew_, because I -believe you are dead,--you, a talented man--nay, even more, a man of -genius, who had a hard struggle to make your fortune, and who, in spite -of talent, genius, fortune, were constantly reproached with the fatal -accident of your birth. People cavilled over your age, your name, your -social status ... Where? Why, in that inner circle where laws are made, -and where, consequently, they ought not to have forgotten that the law -proclaims the equality of the French people one with another. Well! -that man, with the marvellous persistence which characterises him, will -gain his object: he will be a Minister one day. Well, at that day what -will they attack in him?--His opinions, schemes, Utopian ideas? Not at -all, only his birth!--And who will attack it?--Some mean rascal who has -the good luck to possess a father and a mother, who, unfortunately, -have reason to blush for him! - -But enough about _Antony_, which we will leave, to continue its run -of a hundred performances in the midst of the political disturbances -outside; and let us return to the events which caused these -disturbances. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - - A word on criticism--Molière estimated by Bossuet, by - Jean-Jacques Rousseau and by Bourdaloue--An anonymous - libel--Critics of the seventeenth and nineteenth - centuries--M. François de Salignac de la Motte de - Fénelon--Origin of the word _Tartuffe_--M. Taschereau and M. - Étienne - - -Man proposes and God disposes. We ended our last chapter with the -intention of going back to political events; but, behold, since we have -been talking of criticism, we are seized with the desire to dedicate -a whole short chapter to the worthy goddess. There will, however, -be no hatred nor recrimination in it. We are only incited with the -desire to wander aside for a brief space, and to place before our -readers opinions which are either unknown to them or else forgotten. -The following, for instance, was written about Molière's comedies -generally:-- - - "We must, then, make allowances for the impieties and - infamous doings with which Molière's comedies are packed, as - honestly meant; or we may not put on a level with the pieces - of to-day those of an author who has declined, as it were, - before our very eyes and who even yet fills all our theatres - with the coarsest jokes which ever contaminated Christian - ears. Think, whether you would be so bold, nowadays, as - openly to defend pieces wherein virtue and piety are always - ridiculed, corruption ever excused and always treated as a - joke. - - "Posterity may, perhaps, see entire oblivion cover the - works of that poet-actor, who, whilst acting his _Malade - imaginaire_, was attacked by the last agonies of the disease - of which he died a few hours later, passing away from the - jesting of the stage, amidst which he breathed almost his - last sigh, to the tribunal of One who said, '_Woe to ye who - laugh, for ye shall weep'!_" - -By whom do you suppose this diatribe against one whom modern criticism -styles _the great moralist_ was written? By some Geoffroy or Charles -Maurice of the day? Indeed! well you are wrong: it was by the eagle -of Meaux, M. de Bossuet.[1] Now listen to what is said about _Georges -Dandin_: - - "See how, to multiply his jokes, this man disturbs the - whole order of society! With what scandals does he upheave - the most sacred relations on which it is founded! How he - turns to ridicule the venerable rights of fathers over - their children, of husbands over their wives, masters over - their servants! He makes one laugh; true, but he is all - the more to be blamed for compelling, by his invincible - charm, even wise persons to listen to his sneers, which - ought only to rouse their indignation. I have heard it - said that he attacks vices; but I would far rather people - compared those which he attacks with those he favours. Which - is the criminal? A peasant who is fool enough to marry a - young lady, or a wife who tries to bring dishonour upon her - husband? What can we think of a piece when the pit applauds - infidelity, lies, impudence, and laughs at the stupidity of - the punished rustic." - -By whom was that criticism penned? Doubtless by some intolerant -priest, or fanatical prelate? By no means. It was by the author of -the _Confessions_ and of the _Nouvelle Héloïse_, by Jean-Jacques -Rousseau![2] Perhaps the _Misanthrope_, at any rate, may find favour -with the critics. It is surely admitted, is it not, that this play is a -masterpiece? Let us see what the unctuous Bourdaloue says about it, in -his _Lettre à l'Académie Française._ It is short, but to the point. - - "Another fault in Molière that many clever people forgive in - him, but which I have not allowed myself to forgive, is that - he makes vice fascinating and virtue ridiculously rigid and - odious!" - -Let us pass on to _l'Avare,_ and return to Jean-Jacques Rousseau. - - "It is a great vice to be a miser and to lend upon usury, - said the Genevan philosopher, but is it not a still greater - for a son to rob his father, to be wanting in respect to - him, to insult him with innumerable reproaches and, when the - annoyed father curses him, to answer in a bantering way, - '_Qu'il n'a que faire de ses dons._' 'I have no use for - your gifts.' If the joke is a good one, is it, therefore, - any the less deserving of censure? And is not a piece which - makes the audience like an insolent son a bad school for - manners?"[3] - -Let us take a sample from an anonymous critic: _Don Juan_ and -_Tartuffe_, this time; then, after that, we will return to a well-known -name, to a poet still cutting his milk teeth and to a golden-mouthed -orator. We will begin by the anonymous writer. Note that the precept of -Horace was still in vogue at this time: _Sugar the rim of the cup to -make the drink less bitter!_ - -"I hope," said the critic, "that Molière will receive these -observations the more willingly because passion and interest have no -share in them: I have no desire to hurt him, but only to be of use to -him." - -Good! so much for the sugaring the rim of the cup; the absinthe is to -come, and, after the absinthe, the dregs. Let us continue: - - "We have no grudge against him personally, but we object - to his atheism; we are not envious of his gain or of his - reputation; it is for no private reasons, but on behalf of - all right-thinking people; and he must not take it amiss if - we openly defend the interests of God, which he so openly - attacks, or because a Christian sorrowfully testifies when - he sees the theatre in rebellion against the Church, comedy - in arms against the Gospel, a comedian who makes game of - mysteries and fun of all that is most sacred and holy in - religion! - - "It is true that there are some fine passages in Molière's - works, and I should be very sorry to rob him of the - admiration he has earned. It must be admitted that, if - he succeeds but ill in comedy, he has some talent in - farce; and, although he has neither the witty skill of - Gauthier-Garguille, nor the impromptu touches of Turlupin, - nor the power of Capitan, nor the naïveté of Jodelet, nor - the retort of Gros-Guillaume, nor the science of Docteur, he - does not fail to please at times, and to amuse in his own - way. He speaks French passably well; he translates Italian - fairly, and does not err deeply in copying other authors; - but he does not pretend to have the gift of invention or - a genius for poetry. Things that make one laugh when said - often look silly on paper, and we might compare his comedies - with those women who look perfect frights in undress, but - who manage to please when they are dressed up, or with - those tiny figures which, having left off their high-heeled - shoes, look only half-sized. At the same time, we must not - deny that Molière is either very unfortunate or very clever - in managing to pass off his false coin successfully, and - to dupe the whole of Paris with his poor pieces. Those, in - short, are the best and most favourable things we can say - for Molière. - - "If that author had set forth only affected - characterisations, and had stuck entirely to doublets and - large frills, he would not have brought upon himself any - public censure and he would not have roused the indignation - of every religious-minded person. But who can stand the - boldness of a farce-writer who makes jokes at religion, who - upholds a school of libertinism, and who treats the majesty - of God as the plaything of a stage-manager or a call-boy. - To do so would be to betray the cause of religion openly at - a time when its glory is publicly attacked and when faith - is exposed to the insults of a buffoon who trades on its - mysteries and profanes its holy things; who confounds and - upsets the very foundations of religion in the heart of - the Louvre, in the home of a Christian prince, before wise - magistrates zealous in God's cause, holding up to derision - numberless good pastors as no better than Tartuffes! And - this under the reign of the greatest, the most religious - monarch in the world, whilst that gracious prince is - exerting every effort to uphold the religion that Molière - labours to destroy! The king destroys temples of heresy, - whilst Molière is raising altars to atheism, and the more - the prince's virtue strives to establish in the hearts of - his subjects the worship of the true God, by the example - of his own acts, so much the more does Molière's libertine - humour try to ruin faith in people's minds by the license of - his works. - - "Surely it must be confessed that Molière himself is a - finished Tartuffe, a veritable hypocrite! If the true object - of comedy is to correct men's faults while amusing them, - Molière's plan is to send them laughing to perdition. Like - those snakes the poison of whose deadly bite sends a false - gleam of pleasure across the face of its victim, it is an - instrument of the devil; it turns both heaven and hell to - ridicule; it traduces religion, under the name of hypocrisy; - it lays the blame on God, and brags of its impious doings - before the whole world! After spreading through people's - minds deadly poisons which stifle modesty and shame, after - taking care to teach women to become coquettes and giving - girls dangerous counsel, after producing schools notoriously - impure, and establishing others for licentiousness--then, - when it has shocked all religious feeling, and caused all - right-minded people to look askance at it, it composes its - _Tartuffe_ with the idea of making pious people appear - ridiculous and hypocritical. It is indeed all very well for - Molière to talk of religion, with which he had little to do, - and of which he knew neither the practice nor the theory. - - "His avarice contributes not a little to the incitement of - his animus against religion; he is aware that forbidden - things excite desire, and he openly sacrifices all the - duties of piety to his own interests; it is that which makes - him lay bold hands on the sanctuary, and he has no shame in - wearing out the patience of a great queen who is continually - striving to reform or to suppress his works. - - "Augustus put a clown to death for sneering at Jupiter, and - forbade women to be present at his comedies, which were - more decent than were those of Molière. Theodosius flung - to the wild beasts those scoffers who turned religious - ceremonies into derision, and yet even their acts did not - approach Molière's violent outbursts against religion. He - should pause and consider the extreme danger of playing - with God; that impiety never remains unpunished; and that - if it escapes the fires of this earth it cannot escape - those of the next world. No one should abuse the kindness - of a great prince, nor the piety of a religious queen at - whose expense he lives and whose feelings he glories in - outraging. It is known that he boasts loudly that he means - to play his _Tartuffe_ in one way or another, and that the - displeasure the great queen has signified at this has not - made any impression upon him, nor put any limits to his - insolence. But if he had any shadow of modesty left would he - not be sorry to be the butt of all good people, to pass for - a libertine in the minds of preachers, to hear every tongue - animated by the Holy Spirit publicly condemn his blasphemy? - Finally, I do not think that I shall be putting forth too - bold a judgment in stating that no man, however ignorant in - matters of faith, knowing the content of that play, could - maintain that Molière, _in the capacity of its author_, is - worthy to participate in the Sacraments, or that he should - receive absolution without a public separation, or that he - is even fit to enter churches, after the anathemas that the - council have fulminated against authors of imprudent and - sacrilegious spectacles!" - -Do you not observe, dear reader, that this anonymous libel, addressed -to King Louis XIV. in order to prevent the performance of _Tartuffe_, -is very similar to the petition addressed to King Charles X. in order -to hinder the performance of _Henri III._? except that the author or -authors of that seventeenth century libel had the modesty to preserve -their anonymity, whilst the illustrious Academicians of the nineteenth -boldly signed their names: Viennet, Lemercier, Arnault, Étienne -Jay, Jouy and Onésime Leroy. M. Onésime Leroy was not a member of -the Academy, but he was very anxious to be one! Why he is not is a -question I defy any one to answer. These insults were at any rate from -contemporaries and can be understood; but Bossuet, who wrote ten years -after the death of Molière; Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who wrote eighty -years after the production of _Tartuffe_; and Bourdaloue and Fénelon -... Ah! I must really tell you what Fénelon thought of the author of -the _Précieuses ridicules._ After the Eagle of Meaux, let us have the -Swan of Cambrai! There are no fiercer creatures when they are angered -than woolly fleeced sheep or white-plumed birds! - - "Although Molière thought rightly he often expressed himself - badly; he made use of the most strained and unnatural - phrases. Terence said in four or five words, and with the - most exquisite simplicity, what it took Molière a multitude - of metaphors approaching to nonsense to say. _I much prefer - his prose to his poetry._ For example, _l'Avare_ is less - badly written than the plays which are in verse; but, taken - altogether, it seems to me, that even in his prose, he does - not speak in simple enough language to express all passions." - -Remark that this was written twenty years after the death of Molière, -and that Fénelon, the author of _Télémaque_, in speaking to the -Academy, which applauded with those noddings of the head which -did not hinder their naps, boldly declared that the author of the -_Misanthrope_, of _Tartuffe_ and of the _Femmes Savants_ did not -know how to write in verse. O my dear Monsieur François de Salignac -de la Motte de Fénelon, if I but had here a certain criticism that -Charles Fourier wrote upon your _Télémaque_, how I should entertain -my reader! In the meantime, the man whom seventeenth and eighteenth -century criticism, whom ecclesiastics and philosophers, Bossuet and -Jean-Jacques Rousseau, treated as heretical, a corrupter and an -abomination; who, according to the anonymous writer of the letter to -the king, _spoke French passably well_; who, according to Fénelon _did -not know how to write in verse_--that man, in the nineteenth century, -is considered a great moralist, a stern corrector of manners, an -inimitable writer! - -Yet more: men who, in their turn, write letters to the descendant -of Louis XIV., in order to stop the heretics, corrupters of morals, -abominable men of the nineteenth century from having their works -played, grovel on their knees before the illustrious dead; they search -his works for the slenderest motives he might have had or did not -have, in writing them; they poke about to discover what he could have -meant by such and such a thing, when he was merely giving to the world -the fruits of such inspiration as only genius possesses; they even -indulge in profound researches concerning the man who furnished the -type for _Tartuffe_ and into the circumstances which gave him the name -of _Tartuffe_ (so admirably appropriate to that personage, that it has -become not only the name of a man, but the name of _men._) - - "We have pointed out where Molière got his model; it now - remains to us to discuss the origin of the title of his - play. To trace the derivation of a word might seem going - into unnecessary detail in any other case; _but nothing - which concerns the masterpiece of our stage should be - devoid of interest._ Several commentators, among others - Bret, have contended that Molière, busy over the work he - was meditating, one day happened to be at the house of the - Papal Nuncio where many saintly persons were gathered. A - truffle-seller came to the door and the smell of his wares - wafted in, whereupon the sanctimonious contrite expression - on the faces of the courtiers of the ambassador of Rome lit - up with animation, 'TARTUFOLI, _Signor Nunzio!_ TARTUFOLI!' - they exclaimed, pointing out the best to him. According to - this version, it was the word _tartufoli_, pronounced with - earthly sensuality by the lips of mystics, which suggested - to Molière the name of his impostor. We were the first to - dispute that fable and we quote below the opinion of one - of the most distinguished of literary men, who did us the - honour of adopting our opinion. - - "In the time of Molière, the word _truffer_ was generally - used for tromper (_i.e._ to deceive), from which the word - _truffe_ was taken, a word eminently suitable to the kind of - eatable it describes, because of the difficulty there is in - finding it. Now, it is quite certain that, formerly, people - used the words _truffe_ and _tartuffe_ indiscriminately, - for we find it in an old French translation of the treatise - by Platina, entitled _De konestâ voluptate_, printed in - Paris in 1505, and quoted by le Duchat, in his edition of - Méntage's _Dictionnaire Étymologique._ One of the chapters - in Book IX. of this treatise is entitled, _Des truffes ou - tartuffes_, and as le Duchat and other etymologists look - upon the word _truffe_ as derived from _truffer_, it is - probable that people said _tartuffe_ for _truffe_ in the - fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, just as they could - equally say _tartuffer_ for _truffer_." - -That is by M. Taschereau, whose opinion, let us hasten to say, is -worth nothing in the letter to Charles X., but which is of great -weight in the fine study he has published upon Molière. But here is -what M. Étienne says, the author of _Deux Gendres,_ a comedy made in -collaboration with Shakespeare and the Jesuit Conaxa: - - "The word _truffes_, says M. Étienne, of the French Academy, - comes, then, from _tartufferie_, and perhaps it is not - because they are difficult to find that this name was given - them but because they are a powerful means of seduction, and - the object of seduction is deception. Thus, in accordance - with an ancient tradition, great dinner-parties, which - exercise to-day such a profound influence in affairs of - State, should be composed of Tartuffes. There are many more - irrational derivations than this." - -Really, my critical friend, or, rather, my enemy--would it not be -better if you were a little less flattering to the dead and a little -more tolerant towards the living? You would not then have on your -conscience the suicide of Escousse, and of Lebras, the drowning of Gros -and the _suspension_ of _Antony._ - - -[1] _Maximes et Réflexions sur la comédie._ - -[2] _Lettre à d'Alembert sur les spectacles._ - -[3] _Lettre à d'Alembert stir les spectacles._ - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - - Thermometer of Social Crises--Interview with M. Thiers--His - intentions with regard to the Théâtre-Français--Our - conventions--_Antony_ comes back to the rue de - Richelieu--_The Constitutionnel_--Its leader against - Romanticism in general, and against my drama in - particular--Morality of the ancient theatre--Parallel - between the Théâtre-Français and that of the - Porte-Saint-Martin--First suspension of _Antony_ - - -The last chapter ended with these words: "And the suspension of -_Antony."_ What suspension? my reader may, perhaps, ask: that ordered -by M. Thiers? or the one confirmed by M. Duchâtel? or that which M. de -Persigny had just ordered? _Antony_, as M. Lesur aptly put it, is an -abnormal being--_un monstre_; it was created in one of those crises -of extravagant emotion which ensue after revolutions, when that moral -institution called the censorship had not yet had time to be settled -and in working order; so that whenever society was being shaken to its -foundations, _Antony_ was played; but directly society was settled, -and stocks went up and morality triumphed, _Antony_ was suppressed. I -had taken advantage of the moment when society was topsy-turvy to get -_Antony_ put on the stage, as I was wise; for, if I had not done so, -the moral government which was crucified between the Cubières trial and -the Praslin assassination would, most certainly, never have allowed the -representation. - -But _Antony_ had been played thirty times; _Antony_ had acclimatised -itself; it had made its mark and done its worst, and there did not -seem to be any reason to be anxious, until M. Thiers summoned me one -morning to the Home Office. M. Thiers is a delightful man; I have known -few more agreeable talkers and few listeners as intelligent. We had -seen each other many times, and, furthermore, he and I understood one -another, because "he was he and I was I." - -"My dear poet," he said to me, "have you noticed something?" - -"What, my dear historian?" - -"That the Théâtre-Français is going to the devil?" - -"Surely that is no news?" - -"No, I mention it merely as a misfortune." - -"Pooh!..." - -"What do you advise in the case of the Théâtre-Français?" - -"What one applies to an old structure--a pontoon." - -"Good! Do you believe, then, that it can no longer stand against the -sea?" - -"Oh! certainly, with a new keel, new sails and a different gear." - -"Exactly my own opinion: it reminds me of the horse which, in his -madness, Roland dragged by the bridle; it had all the attributes of a -horse, only, all these attributes were useless on account of one small -misfortune: it was dead!" - -"Precisely the case." - -"Well, Hugo and you have been very successful at the -Porte-Saint-Martin; and I want to do at the Théâtre-Français what they -have done at the Musée: to open it on Sunday to enable people to come -there to see and study the works of dead authors, and to reserve all -the rest of the week for living authors and for Hugo and you specially." - -"Well, my dear historian, that is the first time I have heard a Home -Minister say anything sensible upon a question of art. Let me note the -time of day and the date of the month, I must keep it by me ... 15 -March 1834, at seven a.m." - -"Now, what would you want for a comedy, a tragedy, or a drama of five -acts at the Théâtre-Français?" - -"I should first of all need actors who can act drama: Madame Dorval, -Bocage, Frédérick." - -"You cannot have everything at once. I will allow you Madame Dorval; -the others must come afterwards." - -"All right! that is something at all events ... Then I must have some -reparation in respect of _Antony._ Therefore I desire that Madame -Dorval shall resume her rôle of Adèle." - -"Granted ... what else?" - -"That is all." - -"Oh, you must give us a fresh piece." - -"In three months' time." - -"On what terms?" - -"Why on the usual terms." - -"There I join issue: they will give you five thousand francs down!" - -"Ah! five thousand francs!" - -"Well, I will approach Jouslin de la Salle ... and you shall approach -Madame Dorval: only, tell her to be reasonable." - -"Oh! never fear! to act at the Français and to play _Antony_ there, she -would make any sacrifices ... Then, it is settled?" - -"Yes." - -"Let us repeat the terms." - -"Very good." - -"Hugo and I are to enter the Théâtre-Français by a breach, as did M. de -Richelieu's litter." - -"Exactly." - -"We are each to write two pieces a year...?" - -"Agreed." - -"Dorval is engaged? Bocage and Frédérick shall be later?" - -"Granted." - -"And Dorval shall make her début in _Antony?_" - -"She shall have that specified in her agreement." - -"Excellent!... Here's to the first night of the revival of that -immoral play!" - -"To-day I will engage my box in order to secure a place." - -We parted and I ran to Madame Dorval's house to announce this good -news. She had not been re-engaged at the Porte-Saint-Martin; she was, -therefore, free and could go to the Théâtre-Français without delay. -The following day she received a call from Jouslin de la Salle. The -terms did not take long to discuss; for, as I had said, to be engaged -at the Théâtre-Français, and to play _Antony_ there, Dorval would -have engaged herself for nothing. The rehearsals began immediately. I -had signed my contract with the manager, and it was specified in this -contract that, by order of the government, _Antony_ was revived at the -Comédie-Française, and that Dorval was to make her début in that drama. -_Antony_ re-appeared on the bills in the rue de Richelieu; and, this -time, the odds were a hundred to one that it would be performed, since -it was to re-appear under Government commands. The bill announced the -piece and Dorval's appearance for 28 April 1834. But we were reckoning -without _The Constitutionnel._ That paper had an old grudge against me, -concerning which I did not trouble myself much: I thought it could no -longer bite. I was the first who had dared,--in this very _Antony_,--to -attack its omnipotence. - -It will be remembered that, in _Antony_, there is a stout gentleman, -who, no matter what was said to him, invariably answered, -"Nevertheless, monsieur, _The Constitutionnel .._" without ever giving -any other reason. Moëssard acted this stout gentleman. That was not -all. A piece called _la Tour de Babel_ had been produced at the -Variétés. The scene that was the cause of scandal in that play was the -one where subscription to _The Constitutionnel_ is discontinued, which -they naturally laid at my door, on account of my well-known dislike of -that journal. I had not denied it, and I was, if not the actual father, -at least the putative sire. - -On the morning of 28 April 1834, as I had just done distributing my -tickets for the performance that night, my son, who had just turned -ten, came to me with a number of _The Constitutionnel_ in his hands. -He had been sent to me by Goubaux, with whom he was at school, and who -cried out to me, like Assas, _A vous! c'est l'ennemi!_ "To arms! the -enemy is upon you!" I unfolded the estimable paper and read,--in the -leading article if you please,--the following words. A literary event -was thus considered as important as a political one. - - "PARIS, 28 _April_ 1834 - - "The Théâtre-Français is subsidised by the State Budget - to the amount of two hundred thousand francs. It is a - considerable sum; but, if we reflect upon the influence - which that theatre must exercise, in the interests of - society, in the matter of taste and manners, and its - influence on good dramatic literature, the grant does not - seem too large. The Théâtre-Français, enriched by many - _chefs-d'œuvre_ which have contributed to the progress of - our civilisation is, like the Musée, a national institution - which should neither be neglected nor degraded. It ought - not to descend from the height to which the genius of our - great authors has lifted it, to those grotesque and immoral - exhibitions that are the disgrace of our age, alarming - public modesty and spreading deadly poison through society! - There is no longer any curb put to the depravity of the - stage, on which all morality and all decorum is forgotten; - violation, adultery, incest, crime in their most revolting - forms, are the elements of the poetry of this wretched - dramatic period, which, deserving of all scorn, tries to set - at nought the great masters of art, and takes a fiendish - pleasure in blasting every noble sentiment, in order to - spread corruption among the people, and expose us to the - scorn of other nations!" - -This is well written, is it not? True, it is written by an Academician. -I will proceed-- - - "Public money is not intended for the encouragement of a - pernicious system. The sum of two hundred thousand francs - is only granted to the Théâtre-Français on condition that - it shall keep itself pure from all defilement, that the - artistes connected with that theatre, who are still the - best in Europe, shall not debase themselves by lending the - support of their talent to those works which are unworthy to - be put on the national stage, works the disastrous tendency - of which should arouse the anxiety of the Government, for - it is responsible for public morality as well as for the - carrying out of laws. Well, who would believe it? At this - very moment the principal actors of the Porte-Saint-Martin - are being transferred to the Théâtre-Français, and silly - and dirty melodramas are to be naturalised there, in - order to replace the dramatic master-pieces which form an - important part of our glorious literature. A plague of - blindness appears to have afflicted this unhappy theatre. - The production of _Antony_ is officially announced by _The - Moniteur_ for to-morrow, Monday: _Antony_, the most brazenly - obscene play which has appeared in these obscene times! - _Antony_, at the first appearance of which respectable - fathers of families exclaimed, 'For a long time we have - not been able to take our daughters to the theatre; now, - we can no longer take our wives!' So we are going to see - at the theatre of Corneille, Racine, Molière and Voltaire, - a woman flung into an alcove with her mouth gagged; we are - to witness violation itself on the national stage: the day - of this representation is fixed. What a school of morality - to open to the public; what a spectacle to which to invite - the youth of the country; you boast that you are elevating - them, but they will soon recognise neither rule nor control! - It is not its own fault; but that of superior powers, - which take no steps to stem this outbreak of immorality. - There is no country in the world, however free, where it - is permissible to poison the wells of public morality. In - ancient republics, the presentation of a dramatic work was - the business of the State; it forbade all that could change - the national character, undermine the honour of its laws and - outrage public modesty." - -Witness the _Lysistrata_ of Aristophanes, of which we wish to say a few -words to our readers, taking care, however, to translate into Latin -those parts which cannot be reproduced in French. - -"Le latin dans les mots brave l'honnêteté!" - -It will be seen I quote Boileau when he serves my purpose. Poor -Boileau! What a shame for him to be forced to come to the rescue of the -author of _Henri III._ and _Antony!_ - -We are at Athens. The Athenians are at war with the Lacedæmonians; the -women are complaining of that interminable Peloponnesian War, which -keeps their husbands away from them and prevents them from fulfilling -their conjugal duties. The loudest in her complaints is Lysistrata, -wife of one of the principal citizens of Athens; so she calls together -all the matrons not only of Athens, but also from Lacedæmon, Anagyrus -and Corinth. She has a suggestion to make to them. We will let her -speak. She is addressing one of the wives convoked by her, who has come -to the place of meeting.[1] - - "LISISTRATA.--Salut, Lampito! Lacédémonienne chérie, que - tu es belle! Ma douce amie, quel teint frais! quel air de - santé! Tu étranglerais un taureau! - - "LAMPITO.--Par Castor et Pollux, je le crois bien: je - m'exerce au gymnase, et je me frappe du talon dans le - derrière." - -The dance to which Lampito alludes, with a _naïveté_ in keeping with -the Doric dialect natural to her, was called _Cibasis._ Let us proceed: - - "LISISTRATA, _lui prenant la gorge._--Que tu as une belle - gorge! - - "LAMPITO.--Vous me tâtez comme une victime. - - "LISISTRATA.--Et cette autre jeune fille, de quel pays - est-elle? - - "LAMPITO.--C'est une Béotienne des plus nobles qui nous - arrive. - - "LISISTRATA.--Ah! oui, c'est une Béotienne?.. Elle a un joli - jardin!" - -That reminds me, I forgot to say--and it was the word _jardin_ which -reminded me of that omission--that Lampito and Kalonike, the Bœotian, -play their parts in the costume Eve wore in the earthly paradise before -she sinned. - - "CALONICE.--Et parfaitement soigné! on eu a arraché le - pouliot." - -Here the learned translator informs us that the _pouliot_ was a plant -which grew in abundance in Bœotia. Then he adds: _Sed intelligit -hortum muliebrem undè pilos educere aut evellere solebant._ Lysistrata -continues, and lays before the meeting her reason for convening it. - - "LISISTRATA.--Ne regrettez-vous pas que les pères de vos - enfants soient retenus loin de vous par la guerre? Car je - sais que nous avons toutes nos maris absents. - - "CALONICE.--Le mien est en Thrace depuis cinq mois. - - "LISISTRATA.--Le mien est depuis sept mois à Pylos. - - "LAMPITO.--Le mien revient à peine de l'armée, qu'il reprend - son bouclier, et repart. - - "LISISTRATA.--_Sed nec mœchi relicta est scintilla! ex quo - enim nos prodiderunt Milesi ne olisbum quidem vidi octo - digitos longum, qui nobis esset conâceum auxilium._" - -Poor Lysistrata! One can well understand how a wife in such trouble -would put herself at the head of a conspiracy. Now, the conspiracy -which Lysistrata proposed to her companions was as follows: - - "LISISTRATA.--Il faut nous abstenir des hommes!... Pourquoi - détournez-vous les yeux? où allez-vous?... Pourquoi vous - mordre les lèvres, et secouer la tête? Le ferez-vous ou ne - le ferez-vous pas?... Que décidez-vous? - - "MIRRHINE.--Je ne le ferai pas! Que la guerre continue. - - "LAMPITO.--Ni moi non plus! Que la guerre continue. - - "LISISTRATA.--O sexe dissolu! Je ne m'étonne plus que nous - fournissions des sujets de tragédie: nous ne sommes bonnes - qu'à une seule chose!... O ma chère Lacédémonienne,--car tu - peux encore tout sauver en t'unissant à moi,--je tien prie, - seconde mes projets! - - "LAMPITO.--C'est qu'il est bien difficile pour des femmes de - dormir _sine mentula!_ Il faut cependant s'y résoudre, car - la paix doit passer avant tout. - - "LISISTRATA.--La paix, assurément! Si nous nous tenions chez - nous bien fardées, et sans autre vêtement qu'une tunique - fine et transparente, _incenderemus glabro cunno, arrigerent - viri, et coïre cuperent!_" - -The wives consent. They decide to bind themselves by an oath. This is -the oath: - - "LISISTRATA.--Mettez toutes la main sur la coupe, et qu'une - seuls répète, en votre nom à toutes, ce que je vais vous - dire: Aucun amant ni aucun époux.... - - "MIRRHINE.--Aucun amant ni aucun époux.... - - "LISISTRATA.--Ne pourra m'approcher _rigente - nervo!_--Répète." - -Myrrine repeats. - - "LISISTRATA.--Et, s'il emploie la violence.... - - "MIRRHINE.--Oui, s'il emploie la violence.... - - "LISISTRATA._--Motus non addam!_" - -One can imagine the result of such an oath, which is scrupulously kept. - -My readers will remember M. de Pourceaugnac's flight followed by the -apothecaries? Well, that will give you some idea of the _mise en -scène_ of the rest of the piece. The wives play the rôle of M. de -Pourceaugnac, and the husbands that of the apothecaries. And that is -one of the plays which, according to the author of _Joconde_, gave such -a high tone to ancient society! It is very extraordinary that people -know Aristophanes so little when they are so well acquainted with -Conaxa! - - "In the ancient republics," our censor continues with - assurance, "spectacular games were intended to excite noble - passions, not to excite the vicious leanings of human - nature; their object was to correct vice by ridicule, and, - by recalling glorious memories, energetically to rouse - souls to the emulation of virtue, enthusiasm for liberty - and love of their country! Well, we, proud of our equivocal - civilisation, have no such exalted thoughts; all we demand - is to have at least one single theatre to which we can take - our children and wives without their imaginations being - contaminated, a theatre which shall be really a school of - good taste and manners." - - Was it at this theatre that _Joconde_ was to be played? - - "We do not look for it in the direction of the Beaux-Arts; a - romantic coterie, the sworn enemy of our great literature, - reigns supreme in that quarter; a coterie which only - recognises its own specialists and flatterers and only - bestows its favours upon them; an undesigning artiste is - forgotten by it. It wants to carry out its own absurd - theories: it hunts up from the boulevards its director, its - manager, its actors and its plays, which are a disgrace to - the French stage: that is its chief object; and those are - the methods it employs. We are addressing these remarks - to M. Thiers, Minister for Home Affairs, a distinguished - man of letters and admirer of those sublime geniuses which - are the glory of our country; it is to him, the guardian - of a power which should watch over the safety of this - noble inheritance, that we appeal to prevent it falling - into hostile hands, and to oppose that outburst of evil - morals which is invading the theatre, perverting the youth - in our colleges, throwing it out upon the world eager for - precocious pleasures, impatient of any kind of restraint, - and making it soon tired of life. This disgust with life - almost at the beginning of it, this terrible phenomenon - hitherto unprecedented, is largely owing to the baneful - influence of those dangerous spectacles where the most - unbridled passions are exhibited in all their nakedness, and - to that new school of literature where everything worthy of - respect is scoffed at. To permit this corruption of youth, - or rather to foster its corruption, is to prepare a stormy - and a troubled future; it is to compromise the cause of - Liberty, to poison our growing institutions in the bud; - it is, at the same time, the most justifiable and deadly - reproach that can be made against a government...." - -Poor _Antony_! it only needed now to be accused of having violated the -Charter of 1830! - - "And we are here stating the whole truth: it is not - Republican pamphlets which have lent their support to this - odious system of demoralisation; whatever else we may - blame them for, we must admit that they have repulsed this - Satanic literature and immoral drama with indignation, and - have remained faithful to the creed of national honour. It - is the journals of the Restoration, it is the despicable - management of the Beaux-Arts, which, under the eyes of the - Ministry, causes such great scandal to the civilised world: - the scandal of contributing to the publicity and success of - these monstrous productions, which take us back to barbarous - times and which will end, if they are not stopped, in making - us blush that we are Frenchmen ..." - -Can you imagine the author of _Joconde_ blushing for being a Frenchman -because M. Hugo wrote _Marion Delorme_, and M. Dumas, _Antony_, and -compelled to look at _la Colonne_ to restore his pride in his own -nationality? - - "But why put a premium upon depravity? Why encumber the - state budget with the sum of 200,000 francs for the - encouragement of bad taste and immorality? Why not, at - least, divide the sum between the Théâtre-Français and the - Porte-Saint-Martin? There would be some justice in that, for - their rights are equal; very soon, even the former of these - theatres will be but a branch of the other, and this last - will indeed deserve all the sympathies of the directors of - the _Beaux-Arts._ It would, then, be shocking negligence on - their part to leave it out in the cold." - - -You are right this time, Monsieur l'Académicien. A subsidy ought to -be granted to the theatre which produces literary works which are -remembered in following years and remain in the repertory. Now, let us -see what pieces were running at the Théâtre Français concurrently with -those of the Porte-Saint-Martin, and then tell me which were the pieces -during this period of four years which you remember and which remain on -its repertory? - - THÉÂTRE-FRANÇAIS - - _Charlotte Corday--Camille Desmoulins, le Clerc et le - Théologien--Pierre III.--Le Prince et la Grisette--Le - Sophiste--Guido Reni--Le Presbytère--Caïus Gracchus, ou le - Sénat et le Peuple--La Conspiration de Cellamare--La Mort - de Figaro--Le Marquis de Rieux--Les Dernières Scènes de la - Fronde--Mademoiselle de Montmorency._ - - THÉÂTRE DE LA PORTE-SAINT-MARTIN - - _Antony--Marion Delorme--Richard Darlington--La Tour de - Nesle--Perrinet Leclerc--Lucrèce Borgia--Angèle--Marie - Tudor--Catherine Howard._ - -True, we find, without reckoning _les Enfants d'Édouard_ and _Louis -XI._ by Casimir Delavigne, _Bertrand et Raton_ and _la Passion -secrète_ by Scribe, who had just protested against that harvest of -unknown, forgotten and buried works, flung into the common grave -without epitaph to mark their resting-places,--it is true, I say, -that we find four or five pieces more at the Théâtre-Français than -at the Porte-Saint-Martin; but that does not prove that they played -those pieces at the Théâtre-Français for a longer period than those -of the Porte-Saint-Martin, especially when we carefully reflect -that the Théâtre-Français only plays its new pieces for two nights -at a time, and gives each year a hundred and fifty representations -of its old standing repertory! You are therefore perfectly correct, -_Monsieur l'acadèmicien_: it was to the Porte-Saint-Martin and not -to the Théâtre-Français that the subsidy ought to have been granted, -seeing that, with the exception of two or three works, it was at the -Porte-Saint-Martin that genuine literature was produced. We will -proceed, or, rather, the author of _Joconde_ shall proceed: - - "If the Chamber of Deputies is not so eager to vote for - laws dealing with financial matters, we must hope, that in - so serious a matter as this one, so intimately connected - with good order and the existence of civilisation, some - courageous voice will be raised to protest against such an - abusive use of public funds, and to recall the Minister to - the duties with which he is charged. The deputy who would - thus speak would be sure of a favourable hearing from an - assembly, whose members every day testify against the - unprecedented license of the theatres, destructive of all - morality, and who are perfectly cognisant of all the dangers - attached thereto." - -But you were a member of the Chamber, illustrious author of _Joconde!_ -Why did you not take up the matter yourself? Were you afraid, -perchance, that they might think you still held, under the sway of the -younger branch of the Bourbon family, the position of dramatic critic -which you exercised so agreeably under Napoléon? - - "We shall return to this subject," continues the ex-dramatic - censor, "which seems to us of the highest importance for the - peace of mind of private families and of society in general. - We have on our side every man of taste, all true friends - of our national institutions and, in fact, all respectable - persons in all classes of society!" - -"Well! That is a polite thing, indeed, to say to the spectators who -followed the one hundred and thirty performances of _Antony_, the -eighty representations of _Marion Delorme_, the ninety of _Richard -Darlington_, the six hundred of _la Tour de Nesle_, the ninety -productions of _Perrinet-Leclerc_, the one hundred and twenty of -_Lucrèce Borgia_, one hundred of _Angèle_, seventy of _Marie Tudor_ and -fifty of _Catherine Howard!_ What were these people, if your particular -specimens are "men of taste," the "true friends of our national -institutions," and "respectable persons"? They must be blackguards, -subverters of government, thieves and gallows-birds? The deuce! Take -care! For I warn you that the great majority of these people were not -only from Paris, but from the provinces. This is how the moralist of -the _Constitutionnel_ ends: - - "We are convinced that even the artistes of the - Théâtre-Français, who see with satisfaction the enlightened - portion of the public rallying to their side, will decide in - favour of the successful efforts of our protests. It will - depend on the Chamber and on the Home Minister. Political - preoccupations, as is well known, turned his attention - from the false and ignoble influences at work at the - Théâtre-Français; there is no longer any excuse for him, now - that he knows the truth." - - ÉTIENNE ["A. JAY"][2] - -Perhaps you thought, when you began to read this denunciation, that it -was anonymous or signed only with an initial or by a masonic sign, or -by two, three or four asterisks? No indeed! It was signed by the name -of a man, of a deputy, of a dramatic author, or, thereabouts, of an -académicien, M. Étienne! [M. Jay]. Now, the same day that this article -appeared, about two in the afternoon, M. Jouslin de Lasalle, director -of the Théâtre-Français, received this little note, short but clear. - - "The Théâtre-Français is forbidden to play _Antony_ to-night. - - "THIERS" - -I took a cab and gave orders to the driver to take me to the Home -Minister. - - -[1] We have borrowed the following quotations from M. Arland's -excellent translation. If we had translated it ourselves, in the first -place the translation would be bad, then people might have accused us -of straining the Greek to say more than it meant. - -[2] TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.--The Brussels edition gives Étienne; the current -Paris edition, A. Jay. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - - My discussion with M. Thiers--Why he had been compelled - to suspend _Antony_--Letter of Madame Dorval to the - _Constitutionnel_--M. Jay crowned with roses--My lawsuit - with M. Jouslin de Lasalle--There are still judges in Berlin! - - -At four o'clock, I got down to the door of the Home Office. I went in -at once and reached the Minister's private office, without any obstacle -preventing me; the office-boys and ushers who had seen me come there -three or four times during the past fortnight, that is to say during -the period M. Thiers had been Home Minister, did not even think of -asking me where I was going. M. Thiers was at work with his secretary. -He was exceedingly busy just at that time; for Paris had only just come -out of her troubles of the 13 and 14 April, and the insurrection of the -Lyons Mutualists was scarcely over; the budget of trade and of public -works was under discussion, for, in spite of a special department, -these accounts remained under the care of the Home Office; finally, -they were just passing to the general discussion of the Fine Arts, -and consequently had entered upon the particular discussion of the -subsidising of the Théâtre-Français. - -At the noise I made opening the door of his room, M. Thiers raised his -head. - -"Good!" he said, "I was expecting you." - -"I think not," I replied. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Because, if you had expected me, you would have known my reasons for -coming, and would have forbidden my entrance." - -"And what are your reasons for coming?" - -"I have come simply to ask an explanation of the man who fails to keep -his promise as a Minister." - -"You do not know, then, what passed in the Chambers?" - -"No! I only know what has happened at the Théâtre-Français." - -"I was obliged to suspend _Antony_." - -"Not to suspend, but to stop it." - -"To stop or to suspend...." - -"Do not mean the same thing." - -"Well, then, I was obliged to stop _Antony._" - -"Obliged? A Minister! How could a Minister be obliged to stop a piece -which he had himself taken out of the hands of the prompter of another -theatre, when, too, he had engaged his own box to see the first -representation of that piece?" - -"Yes--obliged, I was compelled to do it!" - -"By the article in the _Constitutionnel?_" - -"Bah! if it had only been that article I should, indeed, have made -myself a laughing-stock, although good ink went to the writing of it." - -"You call that good ink, do you? I defy you to suck M. Jay's -[Étienne's] pen, without having an attack of the colic." - -"Well, call it bad ink, if you like ... But it was the Chamber!" - -"How do you make that out?" - -"Oh! I had the whole Chamber against me! If _Antony_ had been allowed -to be played to-night, the Budget would not have passed." - -"The Budget would not have passed?" - -"No ... Remember that such people as Jay, Étienne, Viennet and so -forth ... can command a hundred votes in the Chamber, a hundred people -who vote like one man. I was pinned into a corner--'_Antony_ and no -budget!' or, 'A budget and no _Antony_!' ... Ah! my boy, remain a -dramatic author and take good care never to become a Minister!" - -"Oh! come! do you really think matters can rest thus?" - -"No, I am well aware I owe you an indemnity; fix it yourself and I will -pass for payment any sum you may exact!" - -"A fig for your indemnity! Do you think I work only to earn -indemnities?" - -"No, you work to earn author's rights." - -"When my pieces are played, not when they are forbidden." - -"However, you have a right to compensation." - -"The Court will fix that." - -"Trust in me and do not have recourse to law-suits." - -"Why?" - -"Because the same thing will happen to you that happened to Hugo -with regard to the _Roi s'amuse_: the tribunal will declare itself -incompetent." - -"The Government did not interfere with the contract of the _Roi -s'amuse_, as you have in the case of _Antony._" - -"Indirectly." - -"The Court will appreciate that point." - -"This will not prevent you from writing a new piece for us." - -"Good! So that they may refuse you the budget of 1835? Thanks!" - -"You will think better of your determination." - -"I? I will never set foot in your offices again!" - -And out I went, sulking and growling; which I would certainly not have -done had I known that, in less than two years' time, this same Thiers -would break his word to Poland, by letting the Austrians, Prussians -and Russians occupy Cracow; to Spain, by refusing to intervene; and to -Switzerland by threatening to blockade her. What was this paltry little -broken promise to a dramatic author in comparison with these three -great events? - -I rushed to Dorval, whom the ministerial change of front hit more -cruelly than it did me. Indeed, _Antony_ was only banned by the -Théâtre-Français; elsewhere, its reputation was well established, and -its revival could not add anything to mine. But it was different in -the case of Dorval: she had never had a part in which she had been so -successful as she had been in that of Adèle; none of her old rôles -could supply the place of this one, and there was no probability -that any new part would give her the chance of success, which the -suppression of _Antony_ took away from her. She began by writing the -following letter to the _Constitutionnel_:-- - - "MONSIEUR,--When I was engaged at the Français, it was on - the express condition that I should begin in _Antony._ - That condition was ratified in my agreement as the basis - of the contract into which I entered with the management - of the Théâtre Richelieu. Now, the Government decides - that the piece received at the Théâtre-Français in 1830, - censured under the Bourbons, played a hundred times at the - Porte-Saint-Martin, thirty times at the Odéon and once at - the Italiens, cannot be acted by the king's comedians. A - lawsuit between the author and M. Thiers will settle the - question of rights. But, until that law-suit is decided, I - feel myself compelled to cease appearing in any other piece. - I am anxious, at the same time, to make clear that there is - nothing in my refusal which can injure the authors of _une - Liaison_, to whom I owe particular thanks for their generous - dealings with me. - - "MARIE DORVAL" - -This was the serious and sad side to the situation; then, when she had -accomplished this duty towards herself,--and especially to her family, -of whom she was the only support,--Dorval was desirous of repaying M. -Étienne [M. Jay], after her own fashion, not having the least doubt -that I should also pay him back in my own way some day or other. I came -across the fact that I am going to relate in an album which the poor -woman sent me when dying, and which I have tenderly preserved. - - "On 28 April 1834, my appearance in _Antony_ at the - Théâtre-Français was forbidden, at the solicitation, - or rather upon the denunciation, of M. Antoine Jay - [M. Étienne], author of _Joconde_ and editor of the - _Constitutionnel._ I conceived the idea of sending him a - crown of roses. I put the crown in a card-board box with - a little note tied to it with a white favour. The letter - contained these words: - - 'MONSIEUR,--Here is a crown which was flung at my feet in - _Antony_, allow me to place it on your brow. I owe you that - homage. - -"'Personne ne sait davantage -Combien vous l'avez mérite!'" - - "MARIE DORVAL" - - Below the signature of that good and dear friend, I - discovered two more lines, and the following letter:-- - - "M. Jay [M. Étienne] sent back the box, the crown and the - white favour with this note-- - - "'MADAME,--The epigram is charming, and although it is not - true it is in such excellent taste that I cannot refrain - from appropriating it. As for the crown, it belongs to grace - and talent, so I hasten to lay it again at your feet. - - "A. JAY [ÉTIENNE] - - "30 _April_ 1834" - -As I had warned M. Thiers I appealed from his decision to the _tribunal -de commerce._ The trial was fixed for the 2nd June following. My friend -Maître Mermilliod laid claim on my behalf for the representation of -_Antony_, or demanded 12,000 francs damages. Maître Nouguier, M. -Jouslin de Lasalle's advocate, offered, in the name of his client, -to play _Antony_, but on condition that I should produce the leave -of the Home Office. Maître Legendre, attorney to the Home Office, -disputed the jurisdiction of the tribunal, his plea being that acts of -administrative authority could not be brought before a legal tribunal -for decision. It was quite simple, as you see: the Government stole my -purse; and, when I claimed restitution it said to me "Stop, you scamp! -I am too grand a seigneur to be prosecuted!" Happily, the Court did not -allow itself to be intimidated by the grand airs of Maître Legendre, -and directed that M. Jouslin de Lasalle should appear in person at -the bar. The case was put off till the fifteenth. Now I will open the -_Gazette des Tribunaux_, and copy from it. - - "TRIBUNAL DE COMMERCE DE PARIS - -"_Hearing_ 30 _June_, 1834 -"_President_--M. VASSAL - - "M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS _against_ JOUSLIN de LASALLE. - - "MAÎTRE HENRY NOUGUIER, Counsel for the Comédie Française. - - "The Court having directed the parties to come in person - to lay their case before it, M. Jouslin de Lasalle only - appears out of deference to the court, but protests against - that appearance, on the grounds that it will establish a - precedent which will lead to M. Jouslin de Lasalle having - to appear in person in all disputes which may concern the - Comédie-Française, and to reveal his communications with - administrative authority; and he leaves the merits of this - protest to be decided by reference to previous decisions. - - "M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS.--As plaintiff, I plead first, when - the Home Ministry formed the plan of regenerating or - re-organising the Théâtre-Français, it first of all decided - to appoint a good manager and to call in, I will not - say authors of talent, but authors who could draw good - houses. The intention of the Government was, at first, to - begin by re-establishing the old material prosperity of - the theatre. It order to attain that end, it was needful - that it should have plays in its répertoire which should - attract the public and bring in good receipts in addition - to the subsidy it proposed to grant. M. Thiers procured an - exceedingly clever manager in the person of M. Jouslin de - Lasalle. He bethought himself also of me as one enjoying a - certain degree of public favour. The Minister, therefore, - sent for me to his cabinet, and suggested I should work - for the Théâtre-Français, even going so far as to offer - me a premium. I asked to be treated like other authors in - respect of future plays, and I demanded no other condition - before I gave my consent than the promise that three of my - old dramas should be played, _Antony_, _Henri III._ and - _Christine._ M. Thiers told me he did not know _Antony_, - although that drama had been represented eighty times; that - he had seen _Christine_, which had given him much pleasure, - and that he had even made it the subject of an article when - the play appeared. My condition was accepted without any - reservation. Thus, I was in treaty with the Minister before - the manager of the Théâtre-Français had an interview with - me. M. Jouslin de Lasalle even found me in the office of M. - Thiers. The latter indicated the clauses of the contract - and charged M. Jouslin to put them down in writing. In - conformity with the agreements then arrived at, _Antony_ was - put in rehearsal and announced in the bills. - - "However, in that work, using the liberty of an author, I - had rallied the _Constitutionnel_ and its old-fashioned - doctrines. The _Constitutionnel_, which, before 1830, had - been something of a power, took offence at the gibes of a - young dramatic author, and, in its wrath, it thundered forth - in an article wherein it pretended to show that _Antony_ - was an immoral production, and that it was scandalous to - allow its representation at the leading national theatre. - The journal's anger might not, perhaps, have exerted great - influence over the Minister for Home Affairs had not MM. Jay - and Étienne happened at that time to be concerned with the - theatre budget. These worthy deputies, whose collaboration - in the _Constitutionnel_ is well known, imagined that the - epigrams of _Antony_ referred to them personally; having - this in mind, they informed the Minister that they would - cause the theatre budget to be rejected if my satirical - play was not prohibited at the Théâtre-Français. _Antony_ - was to have been played on the very day upon which these - threats were addressed to M. Thiers. That Minister sent to - M. Jouslin de Lasalle, at four o'clock in the afternoon, - the order to stop the representation; I was informed of - this interdict some hours later. I knew that M. Jouslin - de Lasalle had acted in good faith, and that he had done - all that rested with him, concerning the preparation of - my play. The injury came from the Government alone, which - had placed _Antony_ on the Index, without his knowledge, - as he himself said before the tribune. That ministerial - interdict has been fatal to my interests, for Prefects of - the _Departements_ have, following in the footsteps of their - chief, striven to have my play prohibited. It is no longer - even allowed to be played at Valenciennes. M. Jouslin de - Lasalle has offered to stage any other play I might choose - in place of _Antony_, but that would not be the same thing - as the execution of the signed contract; moreover, I cling - to the representation of _Antony_, which is my favourite - work, and that of many young writers who are good enough to - regard me as their representative. Upon the faith of these - ministerial promises, and of the agreement made with M. - Jouslin de Lasalle, I withdrew _Antony_ forcibly from the - repertory of the Porte-Saint-Martin, where it was bringing - in large sums. I am thus deprived of my author's rights, - which came in daily. It is, consequently, only just that M. - Jouslin should compensate me for the harm he has done me by - the non-execution of the contract. The Government are sure - to provide him with the necessary funds. The private quarrel - I had with the _Constitutionnel_ ought not to be permitted - to cause the manager of the Théâtre-Français, much less the - Government, to stop the production of a piece which forms a - part of my means of livelihood; that would be nothing short - of spoliation. If M. Thiers had not intended to treat with - me, he should not have sent for me to call upon him a dozen - to fifteen times; he should not have taken upon himself - the arrangement of theatrical details which are outside - the scope of a Minister. M. Jouslin was evidently but an - intermediary. - - "M. JOUSLIN DE LASALLE.--I drew up the agreement with M. - Alexandre Dumas in my office. The Minister knew I had done - so, but he was not acquainted with the details of that - contract. I did all in my power to fulfil the compact. The - prohibition of the Minister came suddenly without my having - received previous notice, and that alone prevented the - carrying out of my promise. It was an act of _force majeure_ - for which I do not hold myself responsible. - - "M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS.--Did you not meet me at the Minister's? - - "M. JOUSLIN DE LASALLE.--Yes, a fortnight ago. - - "MAÎTRE MERMILLIOD.--The Minister knew that _Antony_ formed - part of Madame Dorval's repertory, and that she was to make - her appearance in that piece. - - "M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS.--Madame Dorval made it a special - stipulation in her engagement. - - "M. JOUSLIN DE LASALLE.--Madame Dorval was engaged two or - three months before the treaty with M. Alexandre Dumas. - No stipulation was then made relative to _Antony._ After - the contract with the plaintiff, M. Merle, Madame Dorval's - husband, came and begged me to add the clause to which - reference has just been made; I did not refuse that act of - compliance because I did not foresee that _Antony_ was to be - forbidden. I added the clause at the foot of the dramatic - contract. - - "M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS.--Had the additional clause any definite - date attached? - - "M. JOUSLIN DE LASALLE.--No. - - "MAÎTRE MERMILLIOD.--M. Jouslin de Lasalle receives a - subsidy from the Government, and is in a state of dependence - which prevents him from explaining his position openly. - - "M. JOUSLIN DE LASALLE.--I am not required to explain my - relations with the Government; and it would be unseemly on - my part to do so. - - "M. LE PRÉSIDENT.--Are you bound, in consequence of the - subsidy you receive, only to play those pieces which suit - the Government? - - "M. JOUSLIN de LASALLE.--No obligation of that kind whatever - is imposed on me. I enjoy, in that respect, the same liberty - that all other managers have; but, like them, I am bound to - submit to any prohibitions issued by the state. There is no - difference in this respect between my confrères and myself. - - "After these explanations, the manager of the - Théâtre-Français at once left the Court. The president - declared that the Court would adjourn the case for - consideration, and that judgment would be pronounced in a - fortnight's time." - - "_Hearing of_ 14 _July_ - - "The Court taking into consideration the connection between - the cases, decides to join them, and gives judgment upon - both at one and the same time. Concerning the principal - claim: It appearing that, if it had been decided by the - Court that the prohibition to produce a piece which was - opposed to good manners and public morality, legally made - by a competent Minister, might be looked upon as a case of - _force majeure_, thus doing away with the right of appeal of - the author against the manager, the tribunal has only been - called upon to deal with the plea of justification which - might have been put forward in respect to new pieces where - their performance would seem dangerous to the administration: - - "It appearing that in the actual trial the parties found - themselves to be in totally different positions with respect - to the matter, and it is no longer a question of the - production of a new play, subject to the twofold scrutiny - of both the public and the Government, but of a work which, - being in the repertory of another theatre, would there - have had a great number of performances, without let or - hindrance on the part of the Government; with regard to the - position of M. Jouslin, manager of a theatre subsidised by - the Government, it is right to examine him in this case, as - the decisions in previous cases are not applicable to this - action: - - "It appearing from the documents produced, and the pleadings - and explanations given in public by the parties themselves, - that the Home Minister, in the interests of the prosperity - of the Théâtre Français, felt it necessary to associate M. - Alexandre Dumas's talent with that theatre, and that to - this end a verbal agreement was come to between Jouslin de - Lasalle and Alexandre Dumas, and that the first condition of - the said agreement was that the play of _Antony_ should be - performed at the Théâtre-Français: - - "Further, it appearing, that the play of _Antony_ belonged - to the repertory of the Porte-Saint-Martin; that it had been - played a great number of times without any interference or - hindrance from authority; that it is consequently correct to - say that Jouslin de Lasalle knew the gist of the agreement - to be made with Alexandre Dumas, and that it was at his risk - and peril that he was engaged: - - "It appearing that, if Jouslin de Lasalle thought it his - duty to submit, without opposition or protest on his - part, to the mere notice given him by the Government, in - its decision to stop the production of _Antony_ at the - Théâtre-Français on 28 April, the said submission of Jouslin - de Lasalle must be looked upon as an act of compliance - which was called forth by his own personal interests, and - on account of his position as a subsidised manager, since - he did not feel it his duty to enter a protest against the - ministerial prohibition; that we cannot recognise here - any case of _force majeure_; that this act of compliance - was not sufficient warranty for prejudicing the rights of - Alexandre Dumas; that his contract with Jouslin de Lasalle - ought therefore to have been fulfilled or cancelled with the - consequent indemnity: - - "It further appearing that it is for the tribunal to settle - the sum to which Alexandre Dumas is entitled as damages - for the wrong that has been done him up to this present - date by the non-performance by Jouslin de Lasalle of the - contract made between them, the amount is fixed at 10,000 - francs; therefore in giving judgment on the first count the - Court directs Jouslin de Lasalle to pay to Alexandre Dumas - the said sum of 10,000 francs in full satisfaction of all - damages: - - "Further, deciding upon the additional claim of Alexandre - Dumas: It appearing that it was not in the latter's power - to be able to oppose the prohibition relative to the - production of the play of _Antony_, but was the business of - the subsidised manager to do so, since he had engaged the - plaintiff at his own risk and peril: - - "The Court orders that, during the next fortnight Jouslin de - Lasalle shall use his power with the authority responsible, - to get the Government to remove the prohibition; otherwise, - and failing to do this during the said period, after that - time, until the prohibition is removed, it is decided, and - without any further judgment being necessary, that Jouslin - de Lasalle shall pay Alexandre Dumas the sum of 50 francs - for each day of the delay; it further orders Jouslin de - Lasalle to pay the costs: - - "In the matter of the claim of indemnity between Jouslin - de Lasalle and the Home Minister: As it is a question of - deciding upon an administrative act, this Court has no - jurisdiction to deal with the matter, and dismisses the - cases, and as the parties interested, who ought to have - known this, have brought it before the Court, condemns M. - Jouslin de Lasalle to pay the costs of this claim ..." - -We do not think it necessary to make any commentary on this decision of -the Court. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - - Republican banquet at the _Vendanges de Bourgogne_--The - toasts--_To Louis-Philippe!_--Gathering of those who were - decorated in July--Formation of the board--Protests--Fifty - yards of ribbon--A dissentient--Contradiction in the - _Moniteur_---Trial of Évariste Gallois--His examination--His - acquittal - - -Let us skip over the reception of M. Viennet into the Académie -Française, which fact M. Viennet doubtless learnt from his porter, as -he learned later, from the same porter, that he was made a peer of -France, and let us return to our friends, acquitted amidst storms of -applause and enthusiastically escorted to their homes on the night -of 16 April. It was decided that we should give them a banquet by -subscription. This was fixed for 9 May and took place at the _Vendanges -de Bourgogne._ There were two hundred subscribers. It would have been -difficult to find throughout the whole of Paris two hundred guests more -hostile to the Government than were these who gathered together at five -o'clock in the afternoon, in a long dining-room on the ground-floor -looking out on the garden. I was placed between Raspail, who had just -declined the cross, and an actor from the Théâtre-Français, who had -come with me far less from political conviction than from curiosity. -Marrast was the depositary of the official toasts which were to be -offered, and it had been decided that none should be drunk but such as -had been approved by the president. - -Things went smoothly enough throughout two-thirds of the dinner; but, -at the popping of the bottles of champagne, which began to simulate a -well-sustained discharge of musketry, spirits rose; the conversation, -naturally of a purely political character, resolved itself into a -most dangerous dialogue, and, in the midst of official toasts, there -gradually slipped private toasts. - -The first illicit toast was offered to Raspail, because he had declined -the Cross of the Légion d'Honneur. Fontan, who had just obtained it, -took the matter personally, and began to entangle himself in a speech, -the greater part of which never reached the ears of the audience. Poor -Fontan had not the gift of speech and, luckily, the applause of his -friends drowned the halting of his tongue. - -I had no intention of offering any toast: I do not like speaking in -public unless I am carried away by some passion or other. However, -shouts of "Dumas! Dumas! Dumas!" compelled me to raise my glass. I -proposed a toast which would have seemed very mild, if, instead of -coming before the others, it had come after. I had completely forgotten -what the toast was, but the actor whom I mentioned just now came -to dine with me a week ago and recalled it to me. It was: "To Art! -inasmuch as the pen and the paint-brush contribute as efficaciously -as the rifle and sword to that social regeneration to which we have -dedicated our lives and for which cause we are ready to die!" - -There are times when people will applaud everything: they applauded my -toast. Why not? They had just applauded Fontan's speech. It was now -Étienne Arago's turn. He rose. - -"_To the sun of_ 1831!" he said; "may it be as warm as that of 1830 and -not dazzle us as that did!" - -This deserved and obtained a triple salvo of cheers. Then came the -toasts of Godefroy and Eugène Cavaignac. I blame myself for having -forgotten them; especially do I regret forgetting Eugène's, which was -most characteristic. Suddenly, in the midst of a private conversation -with my left-hand neighbour, the name of Louis-Philippe, followed by -five or six hisses, caught my ear. I turned round. A most animated -scene was going on fifteen or twenty places from me. A young fellow -was holding his raised glass and an open dagger-knife in the same -hand and trying to make himself heard. It was Évariste Gallois, who -was afterwards killed in a duel by Pescheux d'Herbinville, that -delightful young man who wrapped his cartridges in tissue-paper, tied -with rose-coloured favours. Évariste Gallois was scarcely twenty-three -or twenty-four years of age at that time; he was one of the fiercest of -Republicans. The noise was so great, that the cause of it could not be -discovered because of the tumult. But I could gather there was danger -threatening; the name of Louis-Philippe had been uttered--and the open -knife plainly showed with what motive. This far exceeded the limits of -my Republican opinions: I yielded to the persuasion of the neighbour -on my left, who, in his capacity as king's comedian, could not dare -to be compromised, and we leapt through the window into the garden. I -returned home very uneasy: it was evident that this affair would have -consequences, and, as a matter of fact, Évariste Gallois was arrested -two or three days later. We shall meet him again at the end of the -chapter before the Court of Assizes. This event happened at the same -time as another event which was of some gravity to us. I have related -that the decree concerning the Cross of July instituted the phrase, -_Given by the King of the French_, and imposed the substitution of the -blue ribbon edged with red, for the red edged with black. The king had -signed this order in a fit of ill-temper. At one of the meetings at -which I was present as a member of the committee, one of the king's -aide-de-camps,--M. de Rumigny, so far as I can remember, although I -cannot say for certain,--presented himself, asking, in the king's name -and on behalf of the king, for the decoration of the Three Days, which -had been accorded with much enthusiasm to La Fayette, Laffitte, Dupont -(de l'Eure) and Béranger. This proceeding had surprised us, but not -disconcerted us; we launched into discussion and decided, unanimously, -that, the decoration being specially reserved for the combatants of the -Three Days, or for citizens, who, without fighting, had during those -three days taken an active part in the Revolution, the king, who had -not entered Paris until the night of the 30th, had, therefore, no sort -of right either to the decoration or to the medal. This decision was -immediately transmitted to the messenger, who transmitted it instantly -to his august principal. Now, we never doubted that our refusal was -the cause of the decree of 30 April. I believe I have also mentioned -that a protest was made by us against the colour of the ribbon, the -subscription and the oath. - -Two days before the banquet at the _Vendanges de Bourgogne_, a general -assembly had taken place in the hall of the _Grande-Chaumière_ in -the _passage du Saumon._ The total number of the decorated amounted -to fifteen hundred and twenty-eight. Four hundred belonged to the -_départements_, the remainder to Paris. Notices having been sent to -each at his own house, all those decorated were prompt in answering -the appeal; there were nearly a thousand of us gathered together. We -proceeded to form a board. The president was elected by acclamation. He -was one of the old conquerors of the Bastille, aged between seventy and -seventy-five,---who wore next the decoration of 14 July 1789 the Cross -of 29 July 1830. M. de Talleyrand was right in his dictum that nothing -is more dangerous than enthusiasm; we learnt afterwards that the man we -made president by acclamation was an old blackguard who had been before -the assizes for violating a young girl. - -Then we proceeded to the voting. The board was to be composed of -fourteen members, one for each arrondissement; the thirteenth and -fourteenth arrondissements represented the outlying dependencies. By a -most wonderful chance, I have discovered the list of members of that -board close to my hand; here it is-- - - "_First arrondissement_, Lamoure; _second_, Étienne Arago; - _third_, Trélat; _fourth_, Moussette; _fifth_, Higonnet; - _sixth_, Bastide; _seventh_, Garnier--Pagès; _eighth_, - Villeret; _ninth_, Gréau; _tenth_, Godefroy Cavaignac; - _eleventh_, Raspail; _twelfth_, Bavoux; _thirteenth_, - Geibel; _fourteenth_, Alexandre Dumas." - -The names of the fourteen members were given out and applauded; then we -proceeded with the discussion. The meeting was first informed of the -situation; next, different questions were put upon which the meeting -was asked to deliberate. All these queries were put to the vote, for -and against, and decided accordingly. The following minutes of the -meeting were immediately dispatched to the three papers, the _Temps_, -the _Courrier_ and the _National._ - - "No oath, inasmuch as the law respecting national awards had - not prescribed any such oath. - - "No superscription of _Donnée par le roi_; the Cross of July - is a national award, not a royal. - - "All those decorated for the events of July pledge - themselves to wear that cross, holding themselves authorised - to do so by the insertion of their names upon the list of - national awards issued by the committee. - - "The king cannot be head of an order of which he is not even - chevalier. - - "Even were the king a chevalier of July, and he is not, his - son, when he comes to the throne, would not inherit that - decoration. - - "Further, there is no identity whatever between his position - with regard to the decoration of July and his position with - regard to the Légion d'Honneur and other orders which are - inherited with the kingdom. - - "The right won at the place de Grève, at the Louvre and at - the Caserne de Babylon is anterior to all other rights: it - is not possible, without falling into absurdity, to imagine - a decoration to have been given by a king who did not exist - at that time, and for whose person, we publicly confess we - should not have fought for then. - - "With regard to the ribbon, as its change of colour does not - change any principle, the ribbon suggested by the Government - may be adopted." - -This last clause roused a long and heated discussion. In my opinion, -the colour of the ribbon was a matter of indifference; moreover, to -cede one point showed that we had not previously made up our minds to -reject everything. I gained a hearing, and won the majority of the -meeting over to my opinion. As soon as this point had been settled -by vote. I drew from my pocket three or four yards of blue ribbon -edged with red, with which I had provided myself in advance, and I -decorated the board and those members of the order who were nearest -me. Among them was Charras. I did not see him again after that for -twenty-two years--and then he was in exile. Hardly was it noticed that -a score of members were decorated, before everybody wished to be in -the same case. We sent out for fifty yards of ribbon, and the thousand -spectators left the _passage du Saumon_ wearing the ribbon of July in -their buttonholes. This meeting of 7 May made a great stir in Paris. -The _Moniteur_ busied itself with lying as usual. It announced that the -resolutions had not been unanimously passed, and that many of those -decorated had protested there and then. On the contrary, no protests -of any kind had been raised. This was the only note which reached the -board-- - - "I ask that all protests against all or part of the decree - relative to the distribution of the Cross of July shall be - decided by those who are interested in the matter, and that - no general measure shall be adopted and imposed on everyone; - each of us ought to rest perfectly free to protest or not as - he likes. - HUET" - -This note was read aloud and stopped with hootings. We sent the -following contradiction to the _Moniteur_ signed by our fourteen names-- - - "_To the Editor of the Moniteur Universal_ - - "SIR,--You state that the account of the meeting of those - wearing the July decoration is false, although you were - not present thereat and took no part whatever in the acts - of the combatants of the Three Days. We affirm that it - contained nothing but the exact truth. We will not discuss - the illegality of the decree of 30 April: it has been - sufficiently dwelt upon by the newspapers. - - "We will only say that it is a lie that any combatant of - 1789 and of 1830 was brought to that meeting by means - of a prearranged surprise. Citizen Decombis came of his - own accord to relate how the decoration of 1789 had been - distributed, and at the equally spontaneous desire of the - meeting he was called to the board. It was not, as you - state, a small number of men who protested against the - decree; the gathering was composed of over a thousand - decorated people. The illegality of the oath and of - the superscription _Donnée par le roi_, was recognised - _unanimously._ None of the members present raised a hand - to vote against it; all rose with enthusiasm to refuse to - subscribe to that twofold illegality; this we can absolutely - prove; for, in case any of the questions had not been - thoroughly understood, each vote for and against the motions - was repeated. - - "Furthermore: all those decorated remained in the hall for - an hour after the meeting, waiting for ribbons, and during - that time no objections were raised against the conclusions - arrived at during the deliberations. - - "And this we affirm, we who have never dishonoured our pens - or our oaths. - - "_Signed_: LAMOURE, ST. ARAGO, TRÉLAT, MOUSSETTE, HIGONNET, - BASTIDE, GARNIER-PAGÈS, VILLERET, GRÉAU, G. CAVAIGNAC, - RASPAIL, BAVOUX, GEIBEL, ALEX. DUMAS." - -The affair, as I have said, made a great noise; and had somewhat -important consequences: an order of Republican knighthood was -instituted, outside the pale of the protection and oversight of the -Government. A thousand knights of this order rose up solely of their -own accord, pledged only to their own conscience, able to recognise one -another at a sign, always on the alert with their July guns ready to -hand. The Government recoiled. - -On 13 May the king issued an order decreeing that the Cross of July -should be remitted by the mayors to the citizens of Paris and of the -outskirts included in the _état nominatif_ and in the supplementary -list which the commission on national awards had drawn up. To that -end, a register was opened at all municipal offices to receive the -oaths of the decorated. The mayors did not have much business to do -and the registers remained almost immaculate. Each one of us paid for -his own decoration, and people clubbed together to buy crosses for -those who could not afford that expense. The Government left us all in -undisturbed peace. I have said that Gallois was arrested. His trial -was rapidly hurried on: on 15 June, he appeared before the Court of -Assizes. I never saw anything simpler or more straightforward than that -trial, in which the prisoner seemed to make a point of furnishing the -judges with the evidence of which they might be in need. Here is the -writ of indictment--it furnishes me with facts of which I, at any rate, -did not yet know. Carried away in other directions by the rapidity of -events, I had not troubled myself about that stormy evening. People -lived fast and in an exceedingly varied way at that period. But let us -listen to the king's procurator-- - - "On 9 May last, a reunion of two hundred persons assembled - at the restaurant _Vendanges de Bourgogne_, in the - faubourg du Temple to celebrate the acquittal of MM. - Trélat, Cavaignac and Guinard. The repast took place in a - dining-room on the ground-floor which opened out on the - garden. Divers toasts were drunk, at which the most hostile - opinions against the present Government were expressed. - In the middle of this gathering Évariste Gallois rose and - said in a loud voice, on his own responsibility: '_To - Louis-Philippe!_' holding a dagger in his hand meantime. - He repeated it twice. Several persons imitated his example - by raising their hands and shouting similarly: '_To - Louis-Philippe!_' Then hootings were heard, although the - guests wish to disclaim the wretched affair, suggesting, - _as Gallois declares_, that they thought he was proposing - the health of the king of the French; it is, however, a - well-established fact that several of the diners loudly - condemn what happened. The dagger-knife had been ordered by - Gallois on 6 May, from Henry, the cutler. He had seemed in - a great hurry for it, giving the false excuse of going a - journey." - -We will now give the examination of the prisoner in its naked -simplicity-- - - "THE PRESIDENT.--Prisoner Gallois, were you present at the - meeting which was held on 9 May last, at the _Vendanges de - Bourgogne_? - - "THE PRISONER.--Yes, Monsieur le Président, and if you will - allow me to instruct you as to the truth of what took place - at it, I will save you the trouble of questioning me. - - "THE PRESIDENT.--We will listen. - - "THE PRISONER.--This is the exact truth of the incident to - which I owe _the honour_ of appearing before you. I had - a knife which had been used to carve with throughout the - banquet; at dessert, I raised this knife and said: '_For - Louis-Philippe ... if he turns traitor_.' These last words - were only heard by my immediate neighbours, because of the - fierce hootings that were raised by the first part of my - speech and the notion that I intended to propose a toast to - that man. - - "D.[1]--Then, in your opinion, a toast proposed to the - king's health was proscribed at that gathering? - - "R.--To be sure! - - "D.--A toast offered purely and simply to Louis-Philippe, - king of the French, would have excited the animosity of that - assembly? - - "R.--Assuredly. - - "D.--Your intention, therefore, was to put King - Louis-Philippe to the dagger? - - "R.--In case he turned traitor, yes, monsieur. - - "D.--Was it, on your part, the expression of your own - personal sentiment to set forth the king of the French as - deserving a dagger-stroke, or was your real intention to - provoke the others to a like action? - - "R.--I wished to incite them to such a deed if - Louis-Philippe proved a traitor, that is to say, in case he - ventured to depart from legal action. - - "D.--Why do you suppose the king is likely to act illegally? - - "R.--Everybody unites in thinking that it will not be long - before he makes himself guilty of that crime, if he has not - already done so. - - "D.--Explain yourself. - - "R.--I should have thought it clear enough. - - "D.--No matter! Explain it. - - "R.--Well, I say then, that the trend of Government action - leads one to suppose that Louis-Philippe will some day be - treacherous if he has not already been so." - -It will be understood that with such lucid questions and answers the -proceedings would be brief. The jury retired to a room to deliberate -and brought in a verdict of not guilty. Did they consider Gallois mad, -or were they of his opinion? Gallois was instantly set at liberty. -He went straight to the desk on which his knife lay open as damning -evidence, picked it up, shut it, put it in his pocket, bowed to the -bench and went out. I repeat, those were rough times! A little mad, -maybe; but you will recollect Béranger's song about _Les Fous._ - - -[1] TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.--D = _Demande_ (Question). R = _Réponse_ -(Answer). - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - - The incompatibility of literature with riotings--_La - Maréchale L'Ancre_--My opinion concerning that - piece--_Farruck le Maure_--The début of Henry Monnier at the - Vaudeville--I leave Paris--Rouen--Havre--I meditate going - to explore Trouville--What is Trouville?--The consumptive - English lady--Honfleur--By land or by sea - - -It was a fatiguing life we led: each day brought its emotions, either -political or literary. _Antony_ went on its successful course in the -midst of various disturbances. Every night, without any apparent motive -whatsoever, a crowd gathered on the boulevard. The rallying-place -varied between the Théâtre-Gymnase and that of the Ambigu. At first -composed of five or six persons, it grew progressively; policemen would -next appear and walk about with an aggressive air along the boulevard; -the gutter urchins threw cabbage stumps or carrot ends at them, which -was quite sufficient after half an hour or an hour's proceedings to -cause a nice little row, which began at five o'clock in the afternoon -and lasted till midnight. This daily popular irritation attracted many -people to the boulevard and very few to the plays. _Antony_ was the -only piece which defied the disturbances and the heat, and brought -in sums of between twelve thousand and fifteen thousand francs. But -there was such stagnation in business, and so great was the fear that -spread over the book-trade, that the same publishers who had offered me -six thousand francs for _Henri III._, and twelve thousand francs for -_Christine_, hardly dared offer to print _Antony_ for half costs and -half profits. I had it printed, not at half costs by a publisher, but -entirely at my own expense. - -There was no way possible for me to remain in Paris any longer: riots -swallowed up too much time and money. _Antony_ did not bring in enough -to keep a man going; also, I was being goaded by the demon of poetry, -which urged me to do something fresh. But how could one work in Paris, -in the midst of gatherings at the _Grande-Chaumière_, dinners at the -_Vendanges de Bourgogne_ and lawsuits at the Assize Courts? I conferred -with Cavaignac and Bastide. I learnt that there would be nothing -serious happening in Paris for six months or a year, and I obtained a -holiday for three months. Only two causes kept me still in Paris: the -first production of the _Maréchale d'Ancre_ and the début of Henry -Monnier. De Vigny, who had not yet ventured anything at the theatre -but his version of _Othello_, to which I referred in its right place, -was about to make his real entry in the _Maréchale d'Ancre._ It was a -fine subject; I had been on the point of treating it, but had renounced -it because my good and learned friend Paul Lacroix, better known then -under the name of the bibliophile Jacob, had begun a drama on the same -subject. - -Louis XIII., that inveterate hunter after _la pie-grièche_, escaping -from the guardianship of his mother by a crime, proclaiming his coming -of age to the firing of pistols which killed the favourite of Marie de -Médicis, resolving upon that infamous deed whilst playing at chess with -his favourite, de Luynes, who was hardly two years older than himself; -a monarch timid in council and brave in warfare, a true Valois astray -among the Bourbons, lean, melancholy and sickly-looking, with a profile -half like that of Henri IV. and half like Louis XIV., without the -goodness of the one and the dignity of the other; this Louis XIII. held -out to me the promise of a curious royal figure to take as a model, -I who had already given birth to _Henri III._ and was later to bring -_Charles IX._ to the light of day. But, as I have said, I had renounced -it. De Vigny, who did not know Paul Lacroix, or hardly knew him, had -not the same reason for abstaining, and he had written a five-act drama -in prose on this subject, which had been received at the Odéon. Here -was yet another battle to fight. - -De Vigny, at that time, as I believe he still does, belonged to the -Royalist party. He had therefore two things to fight--the enemies -which his opinions brought him, and those who were envious of his -talent,--a talent cold, sober, charming, more dreamy than virile, more -intellectual than passionate, more nervous than strong. The piece was -excellently well put on: Mademoiselle Georges took the part of the -Maréchale d'Ancre; Frédérick, that of Concini; Ligier, Borgia; and -Noblet, Isabelle. The difference between de Vigny's way of treating -drama and mine shows itself in the very names of the characters. One -looked in vain for Louis XIII. I should have made him my principal -personage. Perhaps, though, the absence of Louis XIII. in de Vigny's -drama was more from political opinion than literary device. The author -being, as I say, a Royalist, may have preferred to leave his royalty -behind the wings than to show it in public with a pale and bloodstained -face. The _Maréchale d'Ancre_ is more of a novel than a play; the -plot, so to speak, is too complicated in its corners and too simple -in its middle spaces. The Maréchale falls without a struggle, without -catastrophe, without clinging to anything: she slips and falls to the -ground; she is seized; she dies. As to Concini, as the author was much -embarrassed to know what to do with him, he makes him spend ten hours -at a Jew's, waiting for a young girl whom he has only seen once; and, -just when he learns that Borgia is with his wife, and jealousy lends -him wings to fly to the Louvre, he loses himself on a staircase. During -the whole of the fourth act, whilst his wife is being taken to the -Bastille, and they are trying her and condemning her, he is groping -about to find the bannisters and seeking the door; when he comes out of -Isabelle's room at the end of the third act, he does not re-appear again -on the stage till the beginning of the fifth, and then only to die in -a corner of the rue de la Ferronnerie. That is the principal idea of -the drama. According to the author, Concini is the real assassin of -Henry IV.; Ravaillac is only the instrument. That is why, instead of -being killed within the limits of the court of the Louvre, the Maréchal -d'Ancre is killed close to the rue de la Ferronnerie, on the same spot -where the assassin waited to give the terrible dagger-stroke of Friday, -14 May 1610. In other respects I agree with the author; I do not think -it at all necessary that a work of art should possess as hall-mark, -"un parchemin par crime et un in-folio par passion." For long I have -held that, in theatrical matters specially, it seems to me permissible -to violate history provided one begets offspring thereby; but to let -Concini kill Henri IV. with no other object than that Concini should -reign, after the death of Béarnais, by the queen and through the queen, -is to give a very small reason for so great a crime. Put Concini -behind Ravaillac if you will, but, behind Concini, place the queen and -Épernon, and behind the queen and Épernon place Austria, the eternal -enemy of France! Austria, who has never put out her hand to France -save with a knife in it, the blade of Jacques Clément, the dagger of -Ravaillac and the pen-knife of Damiens, knowing well it would be too -dangerous to touch her with a sword-point. - -It did not meet with much success, in spite of the high order of -beauty which characterised the work, beauty of style particularly. An -accident contributed to this: after the two first acts, the best in my -opinion, I do not know what caprice seized Georges, but she pretended -she was ill, and the stage-manager came on in a black coat and white -tie to tell the spectators that the remainder of the representation -was put off until another day. As a matter of fact, the _Maréchale -d'Ancre_ was not resumed until eight or ten days later. It needs a -robust constitution to hold up against such a check! The _Maréchale -d'Ancre_ held its own and had quite a good run. Between the _Maréchale -d'Ancre_ and Henry Monnier's first appearance a three-act drama was -played at the Porte-Saint-Martin, patronised by Hugo and myself: this -was _Farruck le Maure_, by poor Escousse. The piece was not good, but -owing to Bocage it had a greater success than one could have expected. -It afterwards acquired a certain degree of importance because of the -author's suicide, who, in his turn, was better known by the song, or -rather, the elegy which Béranger wrote about him, than by the two plays -he had had played. We shall return to this unfortunate boy and to -Lebras his fellow-suicide. - -It was on 5 July that Henry Monnier came out. I doubt if any début -ever produced such a literary sensation. He was then about twenty-six -or twenty-eight years of age; he was known in the artistic world on -three counts. As painter, pupil of Girodet and of Gros, he had, after -his return from travel in England, been instrumental in introducing -the first wood-engraving executed in Paris, and he published _Mœurs -administratives, Grisettes_ and _Illustrations de Béranger._ As author, -at the instigation of his friend Latouche, he printed his _Scènes -populaires_, thanks to which the renown of the French _gendarme_ and of -the Parisian _titi_[1] spread all over the world. Finally, as a private -actor in society he had been the delight of supper-parties, acting for -us, with the aid of a curtain or a folding-screen, his _Halte d'une -diligence_, his _Étudiant_ and his _Grisette_, his _Femme qui a trop -chaud_ and his _Ambassade de M. de Cobentzel._ - -On the strength of being applauded in drawing-rooms, he thought he -would venture on the stage, and he wrote for himself and for his own -début, a piece called _La Famille improvisée_, which he took from his -_Scènes populaires._ Two types created by Henry Monnier have lasted and -will last: his Joseph Prudhomme, professor of writing, pupil of Brard -and Saint-Omer; and Coquerel, lover of la Duthé and of la Briand. I -have spoken of the interior of the Théâtre-Français on the day of the -first performance of _Henri III._; that of the Vaudeville was not less -remarkable on the evening of 5 July; all the literary and artistic -celebrities seemed to have arranged to meet in the rue de Chartres. -Among artists and sculptors were, Picot, Gérard, Horace Vernet, Carle -Vernet, Delacroix, Boulanger, Pradier, Desbœufs, the Isabeys, Thiolier -and I know not who else. Of poets there were Chateaubriand, Lamartine, -Hugo, the whole of us in fact. For actresses, Mesdemoiselles Mars, -Duchesnois, Leverd, Dorval, Perlet and Nourrit, and every actor who -was not taking part on the stage that night. Of society notabilities -there were Vaublanc, Mornay, Blanc-ménil, Madame de la Bourdonnaie, -the witty Madame O'Donnell, the ubiquitous Madame de Pontécoulant, -Châteauvillars, who has the prerogative of not growing old either in -face or in mind, Madame de Castries, all the faubourg Saint-Germain, -the Chaussée-d'Antin and the faubourg Saint-Honoré. The whole of the -journalist world was there. It was an immense success. Henry Monnier -reappeared twice, being called first as actor then as author. This, as -I have said, was on 5 July, and from that day until the end of December -the piece was never taken off the bills. - -I went away the next day. Where was I going? I did not know. I had -flung a feather to the wind; it blew that day from the south, so my -feather was carried northwards. I set out therefore, for the north, and -should probably go to Havre. There seems to be an invincible attraction -leading one back to places one has previously visited. It will be -remembered that I was at Havre in 1828 and rewrote _Christine_, as -far as the plot was concerned, in the coach between Paris and Rouen. -Then, too, Rouen is such a beautiful town to see with its cathedral, -its church of Saint-Ouen, its ancient houses with their wood-carvings, -its town-hall and hôtel Bourgtheroude, that one longs to see it all -again! I stopped a day there. Next day the boat left at six in the -morning. At that time it still took fourteen hours to get from Paris -to Rouen by diligence, and ten hours from Rouen to Havre by boat. Now, -by _express train_ it only takes three and a half! True, one departs -and arrives--when one does arrive--but one does not really travel; -you do not see Jumiéges, or la Meilleraie or Tancarville, or all that -charming country by Villequier, where, one day, ten years after I was -there, the daughter of our great poet met her death in the midst of a -pleasure party. Poor Léopoldine! she would be at Jersey now, completing -the devout colony which provided a family if not a country for our -exiled Dante, dreaming of another inferno! Oh! if only I were that -mysterious unknown whose elastic arm could extend from one side of the -Guadalquiver to the other, to offer a light to Don Juan's cigar, how -I would stretch out each morning and evening my arm from Brussels to -Jersey to clasp the beloved hand which wrote the finest verse and the -most vigorous prose of this century! - -We no longer see Honfleur, with its fascinating bell-tower, built by -the English; an erection which made some bishop or other, travelling -to improve his mind, say, "I feel sure that was not made here!" In -short, one goes to Havre and returns the same day, and one can even -reach Aix-la-Chapelle the next morning. If you take away distance, you -augment the duration of time. Nowadays we do not live so long, but we -get through more. - -When I reached Havre I went in search of a place where I could spend -a month or six weeks; I wanted but a village, a corner, a hole, -provided it was close to the sea, and I was recommended to go to -Sainte-Adresse and Trouville. For a moment I wavered between the two -districts, which were both equally unknown to me; but, upon pursuing -my inquiries further, and having learnt that Trouville was even more -isolated and hidden and solitary than Sainte-Adresse, I decided upon -Trouville. Then I recollected, as one does in a dream, that my good -friend Huet, the landscape painter, a painter of marshes and beaches, -had told me of a charming village by the sea, where he had been nearly -choked with a fish bone, and that the village was called Trouville. -But he had forgotten to tell me how to get to it. I therefore had to -make inquiries. There were infinitely more opportunities for getting -from Havre to Rio-de-Janeiro, Sydney or the coast of Coromandel than -there were to Trouville. Its latitude and longitude were, at that time, -almost as little known as those of Robinson Crusoe's island. Sailors, -going from Honfleur to Cherbourg, had pointed out Trouville in the -distance, as a little settlement of fishermen, which, no doubt, traded -with la Délivrande and Pont-l'Évêque, its nearest neighbours; but that -was all they knew about it. As to the tongue those fisherfolk talked -they were completely ignorant, the only relations they had hitherto -had with them had been held from afar and by signs. I have always had -a passion for discoveries and explorations; I thereupon decided, if -not exactly to discover Trouville, at least to explore it, and to do -for the river de la Touque what Levaillant, the beloved traveller of -my childhood, had done for the Elephant River. That resolution taken, -I jumped into the boat for Honfleur, where fresh directions as to the -route I should follow would be given me. We arrived at Honfleur. During -that two hours' crossing at flood-tide, everybody was seasick, except -a beautiful consumptive English lady, with long streaming hair and -cheeks like a peach and a rose, who battled against the scourge with -large glasses of brandy! I have never seen a sadder sight than that -lovely figure standing up, walking about the deck of the boat, whilst -everybody else was either seated or lying down; she, doomed to death, -with every appearance of good health, whilst all the other passengers, -who looked at the point of death, regained their strength directly they -touched the shore again, like many another Antæus before them. If there -are spirits, they must walk and look and smile just as that beautiful -English woman walked and looked and smiled. When we landed at Honfleur, -just as the boat stopped, her mother and a young brother, as fair -and as rosy as she seemed, rose up as though from a battlefield and -rejoined her with dragging steps. She, on the contrary, whilst we were -sorting out our boxes and portmanteaux, lightly cleared the drawbridge -which was launched from the landing-stage to the side of the miniature -steam-packet, and disappeared round a corner of the rue de Honfleur. -I never saw her again and shall never see her again, probably, except -in the valley of Jehoshaphat; but, whether I see her again, there or -elsewhere--in this world, which seems to me almost impossible, or in -the other, which seems to me almost improbable--I will guarantee that I -shall recognise her at the first glance. - -We were hardly at Honfleur before we were making inquiries as to the -best means of being transported to Trouville. There were two ways of -going, by land or by sea. By land they offered us a wretched wagon -and two bad horses for twenty francs, and we should travel along a -bad road, taking five hours to reach Trouville. Going by sea, with -the outgoing tide, it would take two hours, in a pretty barque rowed -by four vigorous oarsmen; a picturesque voyage along the coast, where -I should see great quantities of birds, such as sea-mews, gulls and -divers, on the right the infinite ocean, on the left immense cliffs. -Then if the wind was good--and it could not fail to be favourable, -sailors never doubt that!--it would only take two hours to cross. It -was true that, if the wind was unfavourable, we should have to take -to oars, and should not arrive till goodness knows when. Furthermore, -they asked twelve francs instead of twenty. Happily my travelling -companion--for I have forgotten to say that I had a travelling -companion--was one of the most economical women I have ever met; -although she had been very sick in crossing from Havre to Honfleur, -this saving of eight francs appealed to her, and as I had gallantly -left the choice of the two means of transport to her she decided on the -boat. Two hours later we left Honfleur as soon as the tide began to -turn. - - -[1] Young workman of the Parisian faubourgs. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - - Appearance of Trouville--Mother Oseraie--How people are - accommodated at Trouville when they are married--The - price of painters and of the community of martyrs--Mother - Oseraie's acquaintances--How she had saved the life of - Huet, the landscape painter--My room and my neighbour's--A - twenty-franc dinner for fifty sous--A walk by the - seashore--Heroic resolution - - -The weather kept faith with our sailors' promise: the sea was calm, -the wind in the right quarter and, after a delightful three hours' -crossing--following that picturesque coast, on the cliffs of which, -sixteen years later, King Louis-Philippe, against whom we were to wage -so rude a war, was to stand anxiously scanning the sea for a ship, if -it were but a rough barque like that Xerxes found upon which to cross -the Hellespont--our sailors pointed out Trouville. It was then composed -of a few fishing huts grouped along the right bank of the Touque, at -the mouth of that river, between two low ranges of hills enclosing a -charming valley as a casket encloses a set of jewels. Along the left -bank were great stretches of pasture-land which promised me magnificent -snipe-shooting. The tide was out and the sands, as smooth and shining -as glass, were dry. Our sailors hoisted us on their backs and we were -put down upon the sand. - -The sight of the sea, with its bitter smell, its eternal moaning, has -an immense fascination for me. When I have not seen it for a long time -I long for it as for a beloved mistress, and, no matter what stands in -the way, I have to return to it, to breathe in its breath and taste its -kisses for the twentieth time. The three happiest months of my life, or -at any rate the most pleasing to the senses, were those I spent with my -Sicilian sailors in a _speronare_, during my Odyssey in the Tyrrhenian -Sea. But, in this instance, I began my maritime career, and it must be -conceded that it was not a bad beginning to discover a seaport like -Trouville. The beach, moreover, was alive and animated as though on a -fair day. Upon our left, in the middle of an archipelago of rocks, a -whole collection of children were gathering baskets full of mussels; -upon our right, women were digging in the sand with vigorous plying -of spades, to extract a small kind of eel which resembled the fibres -of the salad called _barbe de capucin_ (_i.e._ wild chicory); and all -round our little barque, which, although still afloat, looked as though -it would soon be left dry, a crowd of fishermen and fisher-women were -shrimping, walking with athletic strides, with the water up to their -waists and pushing in front of them long-handled nets into which they -reaped their teeming harvest. We stopped at every step; everything -on that unknown seashore was a novelty to us. Cook, landing on the -Friendly Isles, was not more absorbed or happy than was I. The sailors, -noticing our enjoyment, told us they would carry our luggage to the inn -and tell them of our coming. - -"To the inn! But which inn?" I asked. - -"There is no fear of mistake," replied the wag of the company, "for -there is but one." - -"What is its name?" - -"It has none. Ask for Mother Oseraie and the first person you meet will -direct you to her house." - -We were reassured by this information and had no further hesitation -about loafing to our heart's content on the beach of Trouville. An hour -later, various stretches of sand having been crossed and two or three -directions asked in French and answered in Trouvillois, we managed to -land at our inn. A woman of about forty--plump, clean and comely, with -the quizzical smile of the Norman peasant on her lips--came up to us. -This was Mother Oseraie, who probably never suspected the celebrity -which one day the Parisian whom she received with an almost sneering -air was to give her. Poor Mother Oseraie! had she suspected such a -thing, perhaps she would have treated me as Plato in his _Republic_ -advises that poets shall be dealt with: crowned with flowers and shown -to the door! Instead of this, she advanced to meet me, and after gazing -at me with curiosity from head to foot, she said-- - -"Good! so you have come?" - -"What do you mean by that?" I asked. - -"Well, your luggage has arrived and two rooms engaged for you." - -"Ah! now I understand." - -"Why two rooms?" - -"One for madame and one for myself." - -"Oh! but with us when people are married they sleep together!" - -"First of all, who told you that madame and I were married?... -Besides, when we are, I shall be of the opinion of one of my friends -whose name is Alphonse Karr!" - -"Well, what does your friend whose name is Alphonse Karr say?" - -"He says that at the end of a certain time, when a man and a woman -occupy only one room together, they cease to become lover and mistress -and become male and female; that is what he says." - -"Ah! I do not understand. However, no matter! you want two rooms?" - -"Exactly." - -"Well, you shall have them; but I would much rather you only took one -[_prissiez_]." - -I will not swear that she said _prissiez_, but the reader will forgive -me for adding that embellishment to our dialogue. - -"Of course, I can see through that," I replied; "you would have made -us pay for two and you would have had one room left to let to other -travellers." - -"Precisely!--I say, you are not very stupid for a Parisian, I declare!" - -I bowed to Mother Oseraie. - -"I am not altogether a Parisian," I replied; "but that is a mere matter -of detail." - -"Then you will have the two rooms?" - -"I will." - -"I warn you they open one out of the other." - -"Capital!" - -"You shall be taken to them." - -She called a fine strapping lass with nose and eyes and petticoats -turned up. - -"Take madame to her room," I said to the girl; "I will stop here and -talk to Mother Oseraie." - -"Why?" - -"Because I find your conversation pleasant." - -"Gammon!" - -"Also I want to know what you will take us for per day." - -"And the night does not count then?" - -"Night and day." - -"There are two charges: for artists, it is forty sous." - -"What! forty sous ... for what?" - -"For board and lodging of course!" - -"Ah! forty sous!... And how many meals for that?" - -"As many as you like! two, three, four--according to your hunger--of -course!" - -"Good! you say, then, that it is forty sous per day?" - -"For artists--Are you a painter?" - -"No." - -"Well, then it will be fifty sous for you and fifty for your lady--a -hundred sous together." - -I could not believe the sum. - -"Then it is a hundred sous for two, three or four meals and two rooms?" - -"A hundred sous--Do you think it is too dear?" - -"No, if you do not raise the price." - -"Why should I raise it, pray?" - -"Oh well, we shall see." - -"No! not here ... If you were a painter it would only be forty sous." - -"What is the reason for this reduction in favour of artists?" - -"Because they are such nice lads and I am so fond of them. It was they -who began to make the reputation of my inn." - -"By the way, do you know a painter called Decamps?" - -"Decamps? I should think so!" - -"And Jadin?" - -"Jadin? I do not know that name." - -I thought Mother Oseraie was bragging; but I possessed a touch-stone. - -"And Huet?" I asked. - -"Oh, yes! I knew him." - -"You do not remember anything in particular about him, do you?" - -"Indeed, yes, I remember that I saved his life." - -"Bah! come, how did that happen?" - -"One day when he was choking with a sole bone. It doesn't take long to -choke one's self with a fish bone!" - -"And how did you save his life." - -"Oh! only just in time. Why, he was already black in the face." - -"What did you do to him?" - -"I said to him, 'Be patient and wait for me.'" - -"It is not easy to be patient when one is choking." - -"Good heavens! what else could I have said? It wasn't my fault. Then -I ran as fast as I could into the garden; I tore up a leek, washed -it, cut off its stalks and stuffed it right down his throat. It is a -sovereign remedy for fish bones!" - -"Indeed, I can well believe it." - -"Now, he never speaks of me except with tears in his eyes." - -"All the more since the leek belongs to the onion family." - -"All the same, it vexes me." - -"What vexes you? That the poor dear man was not choked?" - -"No, no, indeed! I am delighted and I thank you both in his name and in -my own: he is a friend of mine, and, besides, a man of great talent. -But I am vexed that Trouville has been discovered by three artists -before being discovered by a poet." - -"Are you a poet, then?" - -"Well, I might perhaps venture to say that I am." - -"What is a poet? Does it bring in an income?" - -"No." - -"Well, then, it is a poor sort of business." - -I saw I had given Mother Oseraie but an indifferent idea of myself. - -"Would you like me to pay you a fortnight in advance?" - -"What for?" - -"Why! In case you are afraid that as I am a poet I may go without -paying you!" - -"If you went away without paying me it would be all the worse for you, -but not for me." - -"How so?" - -"For having robbed an honest woman; for I am an honest woman, I am." - -"I begin to believe it, Mother Oseraie; but I, too, you see, am not a -bad lad." - -"Well, I don't mind telling you that you give me that impression. Will -you have dinner?" - -"Rather! Twice over rather than once." - -"Then, go upstairs and leave me to attend to my business." - -"But what will you give us for dinner?" - -"Ah! that is my business." - -"How is it your business?" - -"Because, if I do not satisfy you, you will go elsewhere." - -"But there is nowhere else to go!" - -"Which is as good as to say that you will put up with what I have got, -my good friend.... Come, off to your room!" - -I began to adapt myself to the manners of Mother Oseraie: it was what -is called in the _morale en action_ and in collections of anecdotes -"la franchise villageoise" (country frankness). I should much have -preferred "l'urbanité parisienne" (Parisian urbanity); but Mother -Oseraie was built on other lines, and I was obliged to take her as -she was. I went up to my room: it was quadrilateral, with lime-washed -walls, a deal floor, a walnut table, a wooden bed painted red, and a -chimney-piece with a shaving-glass instead of a looking-glass, and, for -ornament, two blue elaborately decorated glass vases; furthermore there -was the spray of orange-blossom which Mother Oseraie had had when she -was twenty years of age, as fresh as on the day it was plucked, owing -to the shade, which kept it from contact with the air. Calico curtains -to the window and linen sheets on the bed, both sheets and curtains -as white as the snow, completed the furnishings. I went into the -adjoining room; it was furnished on the same lines, and had, besides, -a convex-shaped chest of drawers inlaid with different coloured woods -which savoured of the bygone days of du Barry, and which, if restored, -regilded, repaired, would have looked better in the studio of one of -the three painters Mother Oseraie had just mentioned. The view from -both windows was magnificent. From mine, the valley of the Touque could -be seen sinking away towards Pont-l'Évêque, which is surrounded by -two wooded hills; from my companion's, the sea, flecked with little -fishing-boats, their sails white against the horizon, waiting to -return with the tide. Chance had indeed favoured me in giving me the -room which looked on to the valley: if I had had the sea, with its -waves, and gulls, and boats, its horizon melting into the sky always -before me, I should have found it impossible to work. I had completely -forgotten the dinner when I heard Mother Oseraie calling me-- - -"I say, monsieur poet!" - -"Well! mother!" I replied. - -"Come! dinner is ready." - -I offered my arm to my neighbour and we went down. Oh! worthy Mother -Oseraie! when I saw your soup, your mutton cutlets, your soles _en -matelote_, your mayonnaise of lobster, your two roast snipe and your -shrimp salad, how I regretted I had had doubts of you for an instant! -Fifty sous for a dinner which, in Paris, would have cost twenty francs! -True, wine would have accounted for some of the difference; but we -might drink as much cider as we liked free of charge. My travelling -companion suggested taking a lease of three, six, or nine years with -Mother Oseraie; during which nine years, in her opinion, we could -economise to the extent of a hundred and fifty thousand francs! Perhaps -she was right, poor Mélanie! but how was Paris and its revolutions to -get on without me? As soon as dinner was finished we went back to the -beach. It was high tide, and the barques were coming into the harbour -like a flock of sheep to the fold. Women were waiting on the shore with -huge baskets to carry off the fish. Each woman recognised her own boat -and its rigging from afar; mothers called out to their sons, sisters -to their brothers, wives to their husbands. All talked by signs before -the boats were near enough to enable them to use their voices, and it -was soon known whether the catch had been good or bad. All the while, a -hot July sun was sinking below the horizon, surrounded by great clouds -which it fringed with purple, and through the gaps between the clouds -it darted its golden rays, Apollo's arrows, which disappeared in the -sea. I do not know anything more beautiful or grand or magnificent -than a sunset over the ocean! We remained on the beach until it was -completely dark. I was perfectly well aware that, if I did not from -the beginning cut short this desire for contemplation which had taken -possession of me, I should spend my days in shooting sea-birds, -gathering oysters among the rocks and catching eels in the sand. I -therefore resolved to combat this sweet enemy styled idleness, and to -set myself to work that very evening if possible. - -I was under an agreement with Harel; it had been arranged that I -should bring him back a play in verse, of five acts, entitled _Charles -VII chez ses grands vassaux._ M. Granier, otherwise de Cassagnac, -published, in 1833, a work on me, since continued by M. Jacquot, -otherwise de Mirecourt, a work in which he pointed out the sources -whence I had drawn all the plots for my plays, and taken all the ideas -for my novels. I intend, as I go on with these Memoirs, to undertake -that work myself, and I guarantee that it shall be more complete and -more conscientious than that of my two renowned critics; only, I hope -my readers will not demand that it shall be as malicious. But let me -relate how the idea of writing _Charles VII._ came to me, and of what -heterogeneous elements that drama was composed. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - - A reading at Nodier's--The hearers and the - readers--Début--_Les Marrons du feu_--La Camargo and the - Abbé Desiderio--Genealogy of a dramatic idea--Orestes - and Hermione--Chimène and Don Sancho-_Goetz von - Berlichingen_--Fragments--How I render to Cæsar the things - that are Cæsar's - - -Towards the close of 1830, or the beginning of 1831, we were invited -to spend an evening with Nodier. A young fellow of twenty-two or -twenty-three was to read some portions of a book of poems he was about -to publish. This young man's name was then almost unknown in the -world of letters, and it was now going to be given to the public for -the first time. Nobody ever failed to attend a meeting called by our -dear Nodier and our lovely Marie. We were all, therefore, punctual -in our appearance. By everybody, I mean our ordinary circle of the -Arsenal: Lamartine, Hugo, de Vigny, Jules de Rességuier, Sainte-Beuve, -Lefèbvre, Taylor, the two Johannots, Louis Boulanger, Jal, Laverdant, -Bixio, Amaury Duval, Francis Wey, etc.; and a crowd of young girls -with flowers in their dresses, who have since become the beautiful -and devoted mothers of families. About ten o'clock a young man of -ordinary height--thin, fair, with budding moustache and long curling -hair, thrown back in clusters to the sides of his head, a green, -tight-fitting coat and light-coloured trousers--entered, affecting -a very easy demeanour which, perhaps, was meant to conceal actual -timidity. This was our poet. Very few among us knew him personally, -even by sight or name. A table, glass of water and two candles had -been put ready for him. He sat down, and, so far as I can remember, -he read from a printed book and not from a manuscript. From the very -start that assembly of poets trembled with excitement; they felt they -had a poet before them, and the volume opened with these lines, which -I may be permitted to quote, although they are known by all the world. -We have said, and we cannot repeat it too often, that these memoirs -are not only Memoirs but recollections of the art, poetry, literature -and politics of the first fifty years of the century. When we have -attacked, severely, perhaps, but honestly and loyally, things that -were base and low and shameful; when we have tracked down hypocrisy, -punished treachery, ridiculed mediocrity, it has been both good and -sweet to raise our eyes to the sky, to look at, and to worship in -spirit, those beautiful golden clouds which, to many people, seem -but flimsy vapours, but which to us are planetary worlds wherein we -hope our souls will find refuge throughout eternity; and, even though -conscious that we may, perhaps, be wrong in so doing, we hail their -uncommon outlines with more pride and joy than when setting forth our -own works. I am entirely disinterested in the matter of the author -of these verses; for I scarcely knew him and we hardly spoke to one -another a dozen times. I admire him greatly, although he, I fear, has -not a great affection for me. The poet began thus-- - - "Je n'ai jamais aimé, pour ma part, ces bégueules - Qui ne sauraient aller au Prado toutes seules; - Qu'une duègne toujours, de quartier en quartier, - Talonne, comme fait sa mule un muletier; - Qui s'usent, à prier, les genoux et la lèvre, - Se courbent sur le grès plus pâles, dans leur fièvre, - Qu'un homme qui, pieds nus, marche sur un serpent, - Ou qu'un faux monnayeur au moment qu'on le pend. - Certes, ces femmes-là, pour mener cette vie, - Portent un cœur châtré de tout noble envie; - Elles n'ont pas de sang e pas d'entrailles!--Mais, - Sur ma télé et mes os, frère, je vous promets - Qu'elles valent encor quatre fois mieux que celles - Dont le temps se dépense en intrigues nouvelles. - Celles-là vont au bal, courent les rendez-vous, - Savent dans un manchon cacher un billet doux, - Serrar un ruban noir sur un beau flanc qui ploie, - Jeter d'un balcon d'or une échelle de soie, - Suivre l'imbroglio de ces amours mignons - Poussés dans une nuit comme des champignons; - Si charmantes d'ailleurs! Aimant en enragées - Les moustaches, les chiens, la valse et les dragées. - Mais, oh! la triste chose et l'étrange malheur, - Lorsque dans leurs filets tombe un homme de cœur! - Frère, mieux lui vaudrait, comme ce statuaire - Qui pressait de ses bras son amante de pierre, - Réchauffer de baisers un marbre! Mieux vaudrait - Une louve enragée en quelque âpre forêt!..." - -You see he was not mistaken in his own estimate; these lines were -thoughtful and well-constructed; they march with a proud and lusty -swing, hand-on-hip, slender-waisted, splendidly draped in their Spanish -cloak. They were not like Lamartine, or Hugo or de Vigny: a flower -culled from the same garden, it is true; a fruit of the same orchard -even; but a flower possessed of its own odour and a fruit with a -taste of its own. Good! Here am I, meaning to relate worthless things -concerning myself, saying good things about Alfred de Musset. Upon my -word, I do not regret it and it is all the better for myself.[1] I -have, however, do not let us forget, yet to explain how that dramatic -_pastiche_ which goes by the name of _Charles VII._ came to be written. -The night went by in a flash. Alfred de Musset read the whole volume -instead of a few pieces from it: _Don Paez, Porcia,_ the _Andalouse, -Madrid,_ the _Ballade à la lune, Mardoche_, etc., probably about two -thousand lines; only, I must admit that the young girls who were -present at the reading, whether they were with their mammas or alone, -must have had plenty to do to look after their eyelids and their fans. -Among these pieces was a kind of comedy entitled the _Marrons du feu._ -La Camargo, that Belgian dancer, celebrated by Voltaire, who was the -delight of the opera of 1734 to 1751, is its heroine; but, it must be -said, the poor girl is sadly calumniated in the poem. In the first -place, the poet imagines she was loved to distraction by a handsome -Italian named Rafaël Garuci, and that this love was stronger at the -end of two years than it had ever been. Calumny number one. Then, he -goes on to suppose that Seigneur Garuci, tired of the dancer, gives his -clothes to the Abbé Annibal Desiderio, and tells him how he can gain -access to the beautiful woman. Calumny number two--but not so serious -as the first, Seigneur Rafaël Garuci having probably never existed save -in the poet's brain. Finally, he relates that, when she finds herself -face to face with the abbé disguised as a gentleman, and finds out that -it is Rafaël who has provided him with the means of access to her, -whilst he himself is supping at that very hour with la Cydalise, la -Camargo is furious against her faithless lover, and says to the abbé-- - - "Abbé, je veux du sang! j'en suis plus altérée - Qu'une corneille au vent d'un cadavre attirée! - Il est là-has, dis-tu? Cours-y donc! coupe-lui - La gorge, et tire-le par les pieds jusqu'ici! - Tords-lui le cœur, abbé, de peur qu'il n'en réchappe; - Coupe-le en quatre, et mets les morceaux dans la nappe! - Tu me l'apporteras; et puisse m'écraser - La foudre, si tu n'as par blessure un baiser!... - Tu tressailles, Romain? C'est une faute étrange, - Si tu te crois conduit ici par ton bon ange! - Le sang te fait-il peur? Pour t'en faire un manteau - De cardinal, il faut la pointe d'un couteau! - Me jugeais-tu le cœur si large, que j'y porte - Deux amours à la fois, et que pas un n'en sorte? - C'est une faute encor: mon cœur n'est pas si grand, - Et le dernier venu ronge l'autre en entrant ..." - -The abbé has to fight Rafaël on the morrow; he entreats her to wait at -least until after that. - - "Et s'il te tu - Demain? et si j'en meurs? si j'en suis devenue - Folle? si le soleil, de prenant à pâlir, - De ce sombre horizon ne pouvait plus sortir? - On a vu quelquefois de telles nuits au monde! - Demain! le vais-je attendre à compter, par seconde, - Les heures sur mes doigts, ou sur les battements - De mon cœur, comme un juif qui calcule le temps - D'un prêt? Demain, ensuite, irai-je, pour te plaire, - Jouer à croix ou pile, et mettre ma colère. - Au bout d'un pistolet qui tremble avec ta main? - Non pas! non! Aujourd'hui est à nous, mais demain - Est a Dieu!..." - -The abbé ended by giving in to the prayers, caresses and tears of la -Camargo, as Orestes yielded to Hermione's promises, transports and -threats; urged on by the beautiful, passionate courtesan, he killed -Rafaël, as Orestes killed Pyrrhus; and, like Orestes, he returned to -demand from la Camargo recompense for his love, the price of blood. -Like Hermione, she failed to keep her word to him. Calumny number three. - - "Entrez! - (_L'abbé entre et lui présente son poignard; la Camargo le - considère quelque temps, puis se lève._) - A-t-il souffert beaucoup? - --Bon! c'est l'affaire - D'un moment! - --Qu'a-t-il dit? - --Il a dit que la terre - Tournait. - --Quoi! rien de plus? - --Ah! qu'il donnait son bien - A son bouffon Pippo. - --Quoi! rien de plus? - --Non, rien. - --Il porte au petit doigt un diamant: de grâce, - Allez me le chercher! - --Je ne le puis. - --La place - Où vous l'avez laissé n'est pas si loin. - --Non, mais - Je ne le puis. - --Abbé, tout ce que je promets, - Je le tiens. - --Pas ce soir!... - --Pourquoi? - --Mais... - --Misérable - Tu ne l'as pas tué! - --Moi? Que le ciel m'accable - Si je ne l'ai pas fait, madame, en vérité! - --En ce cas, pourquoi non? - --Ma foi, je l'ai jeté - Dans la mer. - --Quoi! ce soir, dans la mer? - --Oui, madame. - --Alors, c'est un malheur pour vous, car, sur mon âme, - Je voulais cet anneau. - --Si vous me l'aviez dit, - Au moins! - --Et sur quoi donc t'en croirai-je, maudit - Sur quel honneur vas-tu me jurer? sur laquelle - De tes deux mains de sang? oh la marque en est elle? - La chose n'est pas sûre, et tu peux te vanter! - Il fallait lui couper la main, et l'apporter. - --Madame, il fassait nuit, la mer était prochaine ... - Je l'ai jeté dedans. - --Je n'en suis pas certaine. - --Mais, madame, ce fer est chaud, et saigne encor! - --Ni le feu ni le sang ne sont rares! - --Son corps - N'est pas si loin, madame; il se peut qu'on se charge ... - --La nuit est trop épaisse, et l'Océan trop large! - --Mais je suis pâle, moi tenez! - --Mon cher abbé, - L'étais-je pas, ce soir, quand j'ai joué Thisbé, - Dans l'opéra? - --Madame, au nom du ciel! - --Peut-être - - Qu'en y regardant bien, vous l'aurez.... Ma fenêtre - Donne sur la mer. - - (_Elle sort._) - - --Mais elle est partie!... O Dieu! - J'ai tué mon ami, j'ai mérité le feu, - J'ai taché mon pourpoint, et l'on me congédie! - C'est la moralité de cette comédie." - -The framework of this scene, far removed from it though it is by its -form, is evidently copied from this scene in Racine's _Andromaque_: - - - "HERMIONE. - - Je veux qu'à mon départ toute l'Épire pleure! - Mais, si vous me vengez, vengez-moi dans une heure. - Tous vos retardements sont pour moi des refus. - Courez au temple! Il faut immoler ... - - ORESTE. - Qui? - - HERMIONE. - Pyrrhus! - --Pyrrhus, madame? - --Hé quoi! votre haine chancelle! - Ah! courez, et craignez que je ne vous rappelle! - . . . . . . . . . . . - Ne vous suffit-il pas que je l'ai condamné? - Ne vous suffit-il pas que ma gloire offensée - Demande une victime à moi seule adressée; - Qu'Hermione est le prix d'un tyran opprimé; - Que je le hais! enfin, seigneur, que je l'aimai? - Malgré la juste horreur que son crime me donne, - Tant qu'il vivra, craignez que je ne lui pardonne! - Doutez jusqu'à sa mort d'un courroux incertain. - S'il ne meurt aujourd'hui je peux l'aimer demain! - . . . . . . . . . . . - --Mais, madame, songez ... - --Ah! c'en est trop, seigneur - Tant de raisonnements offensent ma colère. - J'ai voulu vous donner les moyens de me plaire, - Rendre Oreste content; mais, enfin, je vois bien - Qu'il veut toujours se plaindre, et ne mériter rien. - Je m'en vais seule au temple où leur hymen s'apprête, - Où vous n'osez aller mériter ma conquête; - Là, de mon ennemi je saurai m'approcher; - Je percerai le cœur que je n'ai pu toucher, - Et mes sanglantes mains, sur moi-même tournées. - Aussitôt, malgré lui, joindront nos destinées; - Et, tout ingrat qu'il est, il me sera plus doux - De mourir avec lui que de vivre avec vous! - --Non, je vous priverai de ce plaisir funeste, - Madame, il ne mourra que de la main d'Oreste! - Vos ennemis par moi vous vont être immolés, - Et vous reconnaîtrez mes soins, si vous voulez!" - -And Orestes departs, kills Pyrrhus, then returns with his bloody sword -in his hand to find Hermione. - - "--Madame, c'en est fait, et vous êtes servie: - Pyrrhus rend à l'autel son infidèle vie! - --Il est mort?... - --Il expire, et nos Grecs, irrités, - Ont lavé dans son sang ses infidélités! - . . . . . . . . . . . - Mais c'est moi dont l'ardeur leur a servi d'exemple; - Je les ai pour vous seule entraînés dans le temple, - Madame, et vous pouvez justement vous flatter - D'une mort que leurs bras n'ont fait qu'exécuter: - Vous seule avez porté les coups! - --Tais-toi, perfide! - Et n'impute qu'à toi lâche parricide! - Va faire chez les Grecs admirer ta fureur, - Va! je te désavoue, et tu me fais horreur!... - Barbare! qu'as-tu fait? Avec quelle furie - As-tu tranché le cours d'une si belle vie? - Avez-vous pu, cruels, l'immoler aujourd'hui, - Sans que tout votre sang se soulevât pour lui? - Mais parle! De son sort qui t'a rendu l'arbitre? - Pourquoi l'assassiner? qu'a-t-il fait? à quel titre? - Qui te l'a dit? - --O dieux! quoi! ne m'avez-vous pas - Vous-même, ici, tantôt, ordonné son trépas? - --Ah! fallait-il en croire une amante insensé?..." - -It is the same passion, we see, in both women: Opera dancer and Spartan -princess, they speak differently, but act in the same manner. True, -both have copied la Chimène in the _Cid._ Don Sancho enters, sword in -hand, and prostrates himself before Chimène. - - -Madame, à vos genoux j'apporte cette épée ... - --Quoi! du sang de Rodrigue encor toute trempée? - Perfide! oses-tu bien te montrer à mes yeux - Après m'avoir ôté ce que j'aimais le mieux? - Éclate, mon amour! tu n'as plus rien à craindre; - Mon père est satisfait; cesse de te contraindre! - Un même coup a mis ma gloire en sûreté, - Mon âme au désespoir, ma flamme en liberté! - --D'un esprit plus rassis ... - --Tu me parles encore, - Exécrable assassin du héros que j'adore! - Va, tu l'as pris en traître! Un guerrier si vaillant - N'eût jamais succombé sous un tel assaillant! - N'espère rien de moi; tu ne m'as point servie; - En croyant me venger, tu m'as ôté la vie!... - -True, Corneille borrowed this scene from Guilhem de Castro, who took -it from the romancers of the _Cid._ Now, the day I listened to that -reading by Alfred de Musset, I had had already, for more than a year, -a similar idea in my head. It had been suggested to me by the reading -of Goethe's famous drama _Goetz von Berlichingen._ Three or four scenes -are buried in that titanic drama, each of which seemed to me sufficient -of themselves to make separate dramas. There was always the same -situation of the woman urging the man she does not love to kill the one -she loves, as Chimène in the _Cid_, as Hermione in _Andromaque._ The -analysis of _Goetz von Berlichingen_ would carry us too far afield, we -will therefore be content to quote these three or four scenes from our -friend Marmier's translation: - - "ADÉLAÏDE, _femme de Weislingen_; FRANTZ, _page de - - Weislingen._ - ADÉLAÏDE.--Ainsi, les deux expéditions sont en marche? - FRANTZ.--Oui, madame, et mon maître a la joie de combattre - vos ennemis.... - --Comment va-t-il ton maître? - --A merveille! il m'a chargé de vous baiser la main. - --La voici ... Tes lèvres sont brûlantes! - --C'est ici que je brûle. (_Il met la main sur son cœur._) - Madame, vos domestiques sont les plus heureux des hommes! - ... Adieu! il faut que je reparte. Ne m'oubliez pas! - --Mange d'abord quelque chose, et prends un peu repos. - --A quoi bon? Je vous ai vue, je ne me sens ni faim ni - fatigue. - --Je sais que tu es un garçon plein de zèle. - --Oh! madame! - --Mais tu n'y tiendrais pas ... Repose-toi, te dis-je, et - prends quelque nourriture. - --Que de soins pour un pauvre jeune homme! - --Il a les larmes aux yeux ... Je l'aime de tout mon cœur! - Jamais personne ne m'a montré tant d'attachement! - ADÉLAÏDE, FRANTZ, _entrant une lettre à la main._ - FRANTZ.--Voici pour vous, madame. - ADÉLAÏDE.--Est-ce Charles lui-même qui te l'a remise? - --Oui. - --Qu'as-tu donc? Tu parais triste! - --Vous voulez absolument me faire périr de langueur ... Oui, - je mourrai dans l'âge de l'espérance, et c'est vous qui en - serez cause! - --Il me fait de la peine ... Il m'en coûterait si peu pour - le rendre heureux!--Prends courage, jeune homme, je connais - ton amour, ta fidélité; je ne serai point ingrate. - --Si vous en étiez capable, je mourrais! Mon Dieu! moi qui - n'ai pas une goutte de sang qui ne soit à vous! moi qui n'ai - de sens que pour vous aimer et pour obéir à ce que vous - désirez! - --Cher enfant! - --Vous me flattez! et tout cela n'aboutit qu'a s'en voir - préférer d'autres ... Toutes vos pensées tournées vers - Charles!... Aussi, je ne le veux plus ... Non, je ne veux - plus servir d'entremetteur! - --Frantz, tu t'oublies! - --Me sacrifier!... sacrifier mon maître! mon cher maître! - --Sortez de ma présence! - --Madame.... - --Va, dénonce-moi a ton cher maître ... J'étais bien folle - de te prendre pour ce que tu n'es pas. - --Chère noble dame, vous savez que je vous aime! - --Je t'aimais bien aussi; tu étais près de mon cœur ... Va, - trahis-moi! - --Je m'arracherais plutôt le sein!... Pardonnez-moi, - madame; mon âme est trop pleine, je ne suis plus maître de - moi! - --Cher enfant! excellent cœur! - (_Elle lui prend les mains, l'attire à elle; leurs bouches - se rencontrent; il se jette à son you en pleurant._) - --Laisse-moi!... Les murs ont des yeux ... Laisse-moi ... - (_Elle se dégage._) Aime-moi toujours ainsi; sois toujours - aussi fidèle; la plus belle récompense t'attend! (_Elle - sort._) - --La plus belle récompense! Dieu, laisse-moi vivre jusque! - ... Si mon père me disputait cette place, je le tuerais! - - - WEISLINGEN, FRANTZ. - - WEISLINGEN.--Frantz! - FRANTZ.--Monseigneur! - --Exécute ponctuellement mes ordres: tu m'en réponds sur - ta vie. Remets-lui cette lettre; il faut qu'elle quitte la - cour, et se retire dans mon château à l'instant même. Tu - la verras partir, et aussitôt tu reviendras m'annoncer son - départ. - --Vos ordres seront suivis. - --Dis-lui bien qu'il faut qu'elle le veuille ... Va! - - ADÉLAÏDE, FRANTZ. - - (_Adélaïde tient à la main la lettre de son mari apportée - par Frantz._) - ADÉLAÏDE.--Lui ou moi!... L'insolent! me menacer! Nous - saurons le prévenir ... Mais qui se glisse dans le salon? - FRANTZ, _se jetant à son you._--Ah! madame! chère madame!... - --Écervelé! si quelqu'un t'avait entendu! - --Oh! tout dort!... tout le monde dort! - --Que veux-tu? - --Je n'ai point de sommeil: les menaces de mon maître ... - votre sort ... mon cœur ... - --Il était bien en colère quand tu l'as quitté? - --Comme jamais je ne l'ai vu! 'Il faut qu'elle parte pour - mon château! a-t-il dit; il faut qu'elle le veuille!' - --Et ... nous obéirons? - --Je n'en sais rien, madame. - --Pauvre enfant, dupe de ta bonne foi, tu ne vois pas où - cela mène! Il sait qu'ici je suis en sûreté ... Ce n'est - pas d'aujourd'hui qu'il en veut à mon indépendance ... Il - me fait aller dans ses domaines parce que, là, il aura le - pouvoir de me traiter au gré de son aversion. - --Il ne le fera pas! - --Je vois dans l'avenir toute ma misère! Je ne resterai - pas longtemps dans son château: il m'en arrachera pour - m'enfermer dans un cloître! - --O mort! ô enfer! - --Me sauveras-tu? - --Tout! tout plutôt que cela! - --Frantz! (_En pleurs et l'embrassant._) Oh! Frantz! pour - nous sauver.... - --Oui, il tombera ... il tombera sous mes coups! je le - foulerai aux pieds! - --Point d'emportement! Teins, remets-lui plutôt un billet - plein de respect, où je l'assure de mon entière soumission à - ses ordres ... Et cette fiole ... cette fiole, vide-la dans - son verre. - --Donnez, vous serez libre! - - WEISLINGEN, _puis_ FRANTZ. - - WEISLINGEN.--Je suis si malade, si faible!... mes os sont - brisés: une fièvre ardente en a consumé la moelle! Ni paix - ni trêve, le jour comme la nuit ... un mauvais sommeil agité - de rêves empoisonnés.... (_Il s'assied._) Je suis faible, - faible ... Comme mes ongles sont bleus!...Un froid glaciel - circule dans mes veines, engourdit tous mes membres ... - Quelle sueur dévorante! tout tourne autour de moi ... Si je - pouvais dormir!... - FRANTZ, _entrant dans la plus grande - agitation._--Monseigneur! - --Eh bien? - --Du poison ... du poison de votre femme ... Moi, c'est moi! - (_Il s'enfuit, ne pouvant en dire davantage._) - --Il est dans le délire ... Oh! oui, je le sens ... le - martyre! la mort.... (_Voulant se lever._) Dieu! je n'en - puis plus! je meurs!... je meurs!... et, pourtant, je ne - puis cesser de vivre ... Oh! dans cet affreux combat de la - vie et de la mort, il y a tous les supplices de l'enfer!..." - -Now that the reader has had placed before him all these various -fragments from _Goetz von Berlichingen_, the _Cid, Andromaque_ and the -_Marrons du feu_, which the genius of four poets--Goethe, Corneille, -Racine and Alfred de Musset--have given us, he will understand the -analogy, the family likeness which exists between the different scenes; -they are not entirely alike, but they are sisters. - -Now, as I have said, these few passages from _Goetz von Berlichingen_ -had lain dormant in my memory; neither the _Cid_ nor _Andromaque_ had -aroused them: the irregular, passionate, vivid poetry of Alfred de -Musset galvanized them into life, and from that moment I felt I must -put them to use. - -About the same time, too, I read _Quentin Durward_ and was much -impressed by the character of Maugrabin; I had taken note of several -of his phrases full of Oriental poetry. I decided to place my drama in -the centre of the Middle Ages and to make my two principal personages, -a lovely and austere lady of a manor and an Arab slave who, whilst -sighing after his native land, is kept tied to the land of exile by a -stronger chain than that of slavery. I therefore set to work to hunt -about in chronicles of the fifteenth century to find a peg on which -to hang my picture. I have always upheld the admirable adaptibility -of history in this respect; it never leaves the poet in the lurch. -Accordingly, my way of dealing with history is a curious one. I begin -by making up a story; I try to make it romantic, tender and dramatic, -and, when sentiment and imagination are duly provided, I hunt through -history for a framework in which to set them, and it is invariably -the case that history furnishes me with such a setting; a setting so -perfect and so exactly suited to the subject, that it seems as though -the frame had been made to fit the picture, and not the picture to fit -the frame. And, once more, chance favoured me and was more than kind. -See what I found on page five of the _Chronicles of King Charles VII._, -by Maître Alain Chartier homme très-honorable: - - "And at that time, it happened to a knight called Messire - Charles de Savoisy that one of his horse-boys, in riding - a horse to let him drink at the river, bespattered a - scholar, who, with others, was going in procession to Saint - Katherine, to such an extent that the scholar struck the - said horse-boy; and, then, the servants of the aforesaid - knight sallied forth from his castle armed with cudgels, and - followed the said scholars right away to Saint Katherine; - and one of the servants of the aforesaid knight shot an - arrow into the church as far as to the high altar, where the - priest was saying Mass; then, for this fact, the University - made such a pursuit after the said knight, that the house - of the said knight was smitten down, and the said knight - was banished from the kingdom of France and excommunicated. - He betook himself to the pope, who gave him absolution, and - he armed four galleys and went over the seas, making war - on the Saracens, and there gained much possessions. Then - he returned and made his peace, and rebuilt his house in - Paris, in fashion as before; but he was not yet finished, - and caused his house of Signelay (Seignelais) in Auxerrois - to be beautifully built by the Saracens whom he had brought - from across the sea; the which château is three leagues from - Auxerre." - -It will be seen that history had thought of everything for me, and -provided me with a frame which had been waiting for its picture for -four hundred years. - -It was to this event, related in the _Chronicle_ of Maître Alain -Chartier, that Yaqoub alludes when he says to Bérengère: - - "Malheureux?... malheureux, en effet; - Car, pour souffrir ainsi, dites-moi, qu'ai-je fait?... - Est-ce ma faute, à moi, si votre époux et maître, - Poursuivant un vassal, malgré les cris du prêtre, - Entra dans une église, et, là, d'un coup mortel, - Le frappa? Si le sang jaillit jusqu'à l'autel, - Est-ce ma faute? Si sa colère imbécile, - Oublia que l'église était un lieu d'asile, - Est-ce ma faute? Et si, par l'Université, - A venger ce forfait le saint-père excité, - Dit que, pour désarmer le céleste colère, - Il fallait que le comte armât une galère, - Et, portant sur nos bords la désolation, - Nous fît esclaves, nous, en expiation, - Est-ce ma faute encore? et puis-je pas me plaindre - Qu'au fond de mon désert son crime aille m'atteindre?..." - -This skeleton found, and my drama now having, so to speak, in the -characters of Savoisy, Bérengère and Yaqoub, its head, heart and legs, -it was necessary to provide arms, muscles, flesh and the rest of its -anatomy. Hence the need of history; and history had in reserve Charles -VII., Agnes and Dunois; and the whole of the great struggle of France -against England was made to turn on the love of an Arab for the wife -of the man who had made him captive and transported him from Africa -to France. I think I have exposed, with sufficient clearness, what I -borrowed as my foundation, from Goethe, Corneille, Racine and Alfred de -Musset; I will make them more palpable still by quotations; for, as I -have got on the subject of self-criticism, I may as well proceed to the -end, rather than remain before my readers, _solus, pauper et nudus_, as -Adam in the Earthly Paradise, or as Noah under his vine-tree! - - "BÉRENGÈRE, YAQOUB. - - --Yaqoub, si vos paroles - Ne vous échappent point comme des sons frivoles, - Vous m'avez dit ces mots: 'S'il était, par hasard, - Un homme dont l'aspect blessât votre regard; - Si ses jours sur vos jours avaient cette influence - Que son trépas pût seul finir votre souffrance; - De Mahomet lui-même eût-il reçu ce droit, - Quand il passe, il faudrait me le montrer du doigt - Vous avez dit cela? - --Je l'ai dit ... Je frissonne - Mais un homme par moi fut excepté. - --Personne. - --Un homme à ma vengeance a le droit d'échapper... - --Si c'était celui-là qu'il te fallût frapper? - S'il fallait que sur lui la vengeance fût prompte?... - --Son nom? - --Le comte. - --Enfer? je m'en doutais; le comte? - --Entendez-vous? le comte!... Eh bien? - --Je ne le puis! - --Adieu donc pour toujours! - --Restez, ou je vous suis. - --J'avais cru jusqu'ici, quelle croyance folle! - Que les chrétiens eux seuls manquaient à leur parole. - Je me trompais, c'est tout. - --Madame ... - --Laissez-moi? - Oh! mais vous mentiez donc? - --Vous savez bien pourquoi - Ma vengeance ne peut s'allier à la vôtre: - Il m'a sauvé la vie ... Oh! nommez-moi tout autre! - - - Un instant, Bérengère, écoutez-moi! - --J'écoute: - Dites vite. - --J'ai cru, je me trompais sans doute, - Qu'ici vous m'aviez dit, ici même ... Pardon! - --Quoi? - --Que vous m'aimiez! - --Oui, je l'ai dit. - --Eh bien, donc, - Puisque même destin, même amour nous rassemble, - Bérengère, ce soir ... - --Eh bien? - --Fuyons ensemble! - --Sans frapper? - --Ses remords vous vengeront-ils pas? - --Esclave, me crois-tu le cœur placé si has, - Que je puisse souffrir qu'en ce monde où nous sommes, - J'aie été tour à tour l'amante de deux hommes, - Dont le premier m'insulte, et que tous deux vivront, - Sans que de celui-là m'ait vengé le second? - Crois-tu que, dans un cœur ardent comme le nôtre, - Un amour puisse entrer sans qu'il dévore l'autre? - Si tu l'as espéré, l'espoir est insultant! - --Bérengère! - --Entre nous, tout est fini ... Va-t'en! - --Grâce!... - --Je saurai bien trouver, pour cette tâche, - Quelque main moins timide et quelque âme moins lâche, - Qui fera pour de l'or ce que, toi, dans ce jour, - Tu n'auras pas osé faire pour de l'amour! - Et, s'il n'en était pas, je saurais bien moi-même, - De cet assassinat affrontant l'anathème, - Me glisser an milieu des femmes, des valets, - Qui flattent les époux de leurs nouveaux souhaits, - Et les faire avorter, ces souhaits trop précoces, - En vidant ce flacon dans la coupe des noces! - --Du poison? - --Du poison! Mais ne viens plus, après, - Esclave, me parler d'amour et de regrets! - Refuses-tu toujours?... Il te reste un quart d'heure. - C'est encore plus de temps qu'il n'en faut pour qu'il meure, - Un quart d'heure!... Réponds, mourra-t-il de ta main? - Es-tu prêt? Réponds-moi, car j'y vais. Dis! - --Demain! - --Demain! Et, cette nuit, dans cette chambre même, - Ainsi qu'il me l'a dit, il lui dira: Je t'aime! - Demain! Et, d'ici là, que ferai-je? Ah! tu veux, - Cette nuit, qu'à deux mains j'arrache mes cheveux; - Que je brise mon front à toutes les murailles; - Que je devienne folle? Ah! demain! mais tu railles! - Et si ce jour était le dernier de nos jours? - Si cette nuit d'enfer allait durer toujours? - Dieu le peut ordonner, si c'est sa fantaisie. - Demain? Et si je suis morte de jalousie? - Tu n'es donc pas jaloux, toi? tu ne l'es donc pas?" - -I refrain from quoting the rest of the scene, the methods employed -being, I believe, those peculiar to myself. Yaqoub yields: he dashes -into the Comte's chamber; Bérengère flings herself behind a prie-Dieu; -the Comte passes by with his new wife; he enters his room; a shriek is -heard. - - "BÉRENGÈRE, _puis_ YAQOUB _et_ LE COMTE. - - BÉRENGÈRE. - Le voilà qui tombe! - Savoisy, retiens-moi ma place dans ta tombe! - (_Elle avale le poison quelle avait montré à Yaqoub._) - - YAQOUB. - ... Fuyons! il vient - (_Le comte paraît, sanglant et se cramponnant à la tapisserie._) - - LE COMTE. - C'est toi. - Yaqoub, qui m'as tué! - - BÉRENGÈRE. - Ce n'est pas lui: c'est moi! - - LE COMTE. - - Bérengère!... Au secours! Je meurs! - - YAQOUB. - Maintenant, femme, - Fais-moi tout oublier, car c'est vraiment infâme! - Viens donc!... Tu m'as promis de venir ... Je t'attends... - D'être à moi pour toujours! - - BÉRENGÈRE. - Encor quelques instants, - Et je t'appartiendrai tout entière. - - YAQOUB. - Regarde! - Ils accourent aux cris qu'il a poussés ... Prends garde, - Nous ne pourrons plus fuir, il ne sera plus temps. - Ils viennent, Bérengère! - - BÉRENGÈRE. - Attends, encore, attends! - - YAQOUB. - Oh! viens, viens! toute attente à cette heure est mortelle! - La cour est pleine, vois ... Mais viens donc!... Que fait-elle? - Bérengère, est-ce ainsi que tu gardes ta foi! - Bérengère, entends-tu? viens! - - BÉRENGÈRE, _rendant le dernier soupir._ - Me voici ... Prends moi - - YAQOUB. - Oh! malédiction!... son front devient livide ... - Son cœur?... Il ne bat plus!... Sa main? Le flacon vide!..." - -It will be seen that this contains three imitations; the imitation -of Racine's _Andromaque_; that of Goethe's _Goetz von Berlichingen_; -and that of Alfred de Musset's _Marrons de feu._ The reason is that -_Charles VII._ is, first of all, a study, a laboriously worked up -study and not a work done on the spur of the moment; it is a work of -assimilation and not an original drama, which cost me infinitely more -labour than _Antony_; but it does not therefore mean that I love it as -much as _Antony._ Yet a few more words before I finish the subject. Let -us run through the imitations in detail. I said I borrowed different -passages from Maugrabin in _Quentin Durward._ Here they are:-- - - "'Unhappy being!' Quentin Durward exclaims. 'Think better! - ... What canst thou expect, dying in such opinions, and - impenitent?' - - "'To be resolved into the elements,' said the hardened - atheist; my hope, trust and expectation is, that the - mysterious frame of humanity shall melt into the general - mass of nature, to be recompounded in the other forms with - which she daily supplies those which daily disappear, and - return under different forms,--the watery particles to - streams and showers, the earthly parts to enrich their - mother earth, the airy portions to wanton in the breeze; - and those of fire to supply the blaze of Aldeboran and his - brethren--In this faith have I lived, and I will die in it!'" - -Yaqoub is condemned to death for having killed Raymond the Comte's -archer. - - "LE COMTE. - Esclave, si tu meurs en de tels sentiments, - Q'espères-tu? - - YAQOUB. - De rendre un corps aux éléments, - Masse commune où l'homme, en expirant, rapporte - Tout ce qu'en le créant la nature en emporte. - Si la terre, si l'eau, si l'air et si le feu - Me formèrent, aux mains du hasard ou de Dieu, - Le vent, en dispersant ma poussière en sa course, - Saura bien reporter chaque chose à sa source!" - -The second imitation examined in detail is again borrowed from Walter -Scott, but from _The Talisman_ this time, not from _Quentin Durward._ -The Knight of the Leopard and the Saracen, after fighting against one -another, effect a truce, and take lunch, chatting together, by the -fountain called the Diamond of the Desert. - - "'Stranger,' asked the Saracen,--'with how many men didst - thou come on this warfare?' - - "'By my faith,' said Sir Kenneth, 'with aid of friends - and kinsmen, I was hardly pinched to furnish forth ten - well-appointed lances, with maybe some fifty more men, - archers and varlets included.' - - "'Christian, here I have five arrows in my quiver, each - feathered from the wing of an eagle. When I send one of them - to my tents, a thousand warriors mount on horseback. When - I send another, an equal force will arise--for the five, I - can command five thousand men; and if I send my bow, ten - thousand mounted riders will shake the desert.'" - - - "YAQOUB. - - Car mon père, au Saïd, n'est point un chef vulgaire. - Il a dans son carquois quatre flèches de guerre, - Et, lorsqu'il tend son arc, et que, vers quatre buts, - Il le lance en signal à ses quatre tribus, - Chacune à lui fournir cent cavaliers fidèles - Met le temps que met l'aigle â déployer ses ailes." - -There, thank Heaven, my confession is ended! It has been a long one; -but then _Charles VII._, as an assimilative and imitative work, is my -greatest sin in that respect. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - - Poetry is the Spirit of God--The Conservatoire and l'École - of Rome--Letter of counsel to my Son--Employment of my - time at Trouville--Madame de la Garenne--The Vendéan - Bonnechose--M. Beudin--I am pursued by a fish--What came of - it - - -If I had not just steeped my readers in literature, during the -preceding chapters, I should place a work before them which might not -perhaps be uninteresting to them. It would be the ancient tradition -of _Phèdre,_ which is to Euripides, for example, what the Spanish -romancer's is to Guilhem de Castro. Then I would show what Euripides -borrowed from tradition; then what, five hundred years later, the -_Roman_ Seneca borrowed from Euripides; then finally, what, sixteen -centuries later still, the _French_ Racine borrowed from both Euripides -and Seneca. At the same time I should show how the genius of each -nation and the emotional taste of each age brought about changes from -the original character of the subject. One last word. Amongst all -peoples, literature always begins with poetry; prose only comes later. -Orpheus, Homer, Hesiod--Herodotus, Plato, Aristotle. - - "In the beginning, says Genesis, God created the heavens. - And the earth was waste and void; and darkness was upon the - face of the deep; and the _Spirit of God moved upon the face - of the waters._" - -Poetry is the Spirit of God, or, rather, it is primeval poetic -substance, impersonal and common property; it floats in space like the -cosmic essence of which Humboldt speaks, a kind of luminous matter, -mother of old worlds, germ of worlds to come; indestructible, because -it is incessantly being renewed, each element faithfully giving back -to it that which it has borrowed. - -Gradually, however, this matter settles round the great personalities, -as clouds settle round great mountains, and in like manner as clouds -dissolve into springs of living waters, spreading over plains, -satisfying bodily thirst, so does this cosmic element resolve itself -into poetry, hymns, songs and tragedies which satisfy the thirst of -the soul. The inference to be drawn from the foregoing analogy is, -that human genius creates and individual genius applies. Thus, when -a critic happened to accuse Shakespeare of having taken a scene or -phrase or idea from a contemporary writer, he said: "I have but rescued -a child from evil company to put it among better companions." Again, -Molière answered, even more naively still, when people made the same -reproach with regard to him: "I take my treasure wherever I find it!" -Now, Shakespeare and Molière were right: the man of genius--need I -point out that I mean the great masters, not myself? (I am well aware -that I shall not be of any importance until after my death!)--the -man of genius, I repeat, does not steal, he conquers: he makes a -colony, as it were, of the province he takes; he imposes his own laws -upon it and peoples it with his own subjects; he extends his golden -sceptre over it, and not a soul, seeing his fine kingdom, dares to -say to him (except, of course, the jealous, who are subject to no one -and will not recognise even genius as supreme ruler), "This portion -of territory does not belong to your patrimony." It is an absurd -notion that this arbitrary spirit should accord its protection to -letters: it means that it prohibits foreign literature and discourages -contemporary literature. In a country like France, which is the brain -of Europe, and whose language is spoken throughout the whole world, -owing to the equipoise of consonants and vowels, which disconcert -neither northern nor southern nations, there ought to be a universal -literature besides its national one. Everything of beauty that has -been produced in the whole world, from Æschylus down to Alfieri, from -_Sakountala_ to _Roméo_, from the romancero of the _Cid_ down to -Schiller's _Brigands_,--all ought to belong to France, if not by right -of inheritance, at least by right of conquest. Nothing that an entire -people has admired can be without value, and everything that has a -value ought to find its place in that vast casket entitled French -intelligence. It is on account of this false system that there is a -Conservatoire and an École at Rome. We have already, in connection with -the _mise-en-scène_ of Soulié's _Juliette_, said a few words about this -Conservatoire, which has the unique object of teaching young men to -scan Molière and to recite Racine's _Corneille._ We will now complete -the sketch begun. As a result of the invariable programme, adopted by -the government, every pupil of the Conservatoire, after three years' -study, leaves the rue Bergère incapable of appreciating any modern -or foreign literature; acquainted with the _songe_ of Athalie, the -_récit_ of Théramène, the monologue of Auguste, the scene between -Tartuffe and Elmire, that of the Misanthrope and Oronte, of Gros-René -and Marinette; he is completely ignorant that there existed at Athens -people of the names of Æschylus, Euripides, Sophocles and Aristophanes; -at Rome, Ennius, Plautus, Terence and Seneca; in England, Shakespeare, -Otway, Sheridan and Byron; in Germany, Goethe, Schiller, Uhland and -Kotzebue; in Spain, Guillem de Castro, Tirso de Molina, Calderon and -Lope de Vega; in Italy, Macchiavelli, Goldoni, Alfieri; that these -men have left a trail of light across twenty-four centuries and among -five different peoples, consisting of stars called _Orestes, Alcestis, -Œdipus at Colonus, The Knights, Aulularia, Eunuchus, Hippolytus, -Romeo and Juliet, Venice Preserved, The School for Scandal, Manfred, -Goetz von Berlichingen, Kabale und Liebe, les Pupilles, Menschenhass -und Reue, The Cid, Don Juan, le Chien du Jardinier, le Médecin de -son honneur, le Meilleur Alcade c'est le Roi, la Mandragora, le -Bourra bienfaisant, and Philippe II._ You will see that I only quote -one masterpiece by each of these men; also that the pupils of the -Conservatoire are utterly ignorant, behind the times and of no use on -any stage except those which play Molière, Racine and Corneille. And, -furthermore!... None of the great actors of our time have come from -the Conservatoire; neither Talma, nor Mars, Firmin, Potier, Vernet, -Bouffé, Rachel, Frédérick-Lemaître, Bocage, Dorval, Mélingue, Arnal, -Numa, Bressant, Déjazet, Rose Chéri, Duprez, Masset, nor any prominent -person whatsoever. What is to be said about a mill which goes round and -says tic-tac but does not grind? - -Ah! well, the same vice exists in the École of Rome as in the -Conservatoire. If there is a changeable art it is that of painting. -Each artist sees a colour which is not that of his neighbour; one calls -it green, another yellow, another blue, another red: one inclines -towards the Flemish School, another to the Spanish and yet another to -the German. You would think they would send each student, according -as his bent might be, to study Rubens at Anvers, Murillo at Madrid, -Cornelius at Munich? Nothing of the sort! They all go to Rome to -study Raphael or Michael Angelo! Not a painter, not a single original -sculptor of our time was a pupil at Rome; neither Delacroix, nor -Rousseau, Diaz, Dupré, Cabot, Boulanger, Müller, Isabey, Brascassat, -Giraud, Barrye, Clésinger, Gavarni, Rosa Bonheur, nor ... upon my word, -I was tempted to say--nor anybody! But as the institution is absurd it -will still continue to exist. With half the money to spend they could -turn out twice as many actors, painters and sculptors; only, they would -turn them out capable instead of incapable. - -We have travelled a long way from Trouville! What would you have me do? -Fancy has the wings of Icarus, the horses of Hippolytus: she goes as -far as she dare towards the sun, as near as she dare without dashing -herself against the rocks. Let us return to _Charles VII._, the first -cause of all this digression. Whatever may have been the cause; when I -returned to Mother Oseraie's inn, at nine o'clock on the evening of 7 -July, I wrote the first lines of that scene. By the following morning, -the first hundred lines of the drama were done, and among them were the -thirty-six or thirty-eight relating Yaqoub's lion hunt. They should -rank among the few really good lines I have written. On the other -hand, in order that an exact idea may be formed of the value I put -upon my own poetry, I may be allowed to transcribe here a letter which -I wrote, fifteen or sixteen years ago, to my son, who asked my advice -on the poetry he ought to read and on the ancient and modern poets he -ought to study. - - "MY DEAR BOY,--Your letter gave me great pleasure, as - every letter from you does which shows you are doing what - is right. You ask me the use of the Latin verses--which - you are forced to compose; they are not very important; - nevertheless, you learn metre by so doing, and that enables - you to scan properly and to understand the music of Virgil's - poetry and the freedom and ease of Horace. Again, this habit - of scanning will come in useful, if you ever have to talk - Latin in Hungary, where every peasant speaks it. Learn Greek - steadily and thoroughly, so as to be able to read Homer, - Æschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes in the - original, and you will then be able to learn modern Greek in - three months. Practise yourself well in the pronunciation - of German; later you will learn English and Italian. Then, - when you know all these, we will decide together what career - you shall follow. At the same time do not neglect drawing. - Tell Charlieu to give you not only Shakespeare but Dante - and Schiller as well. Do not place much reliance on the - verses they make you read, at school: professor's verses - are not worth a son! Study the Bible, as a religious book, - a history and a poem; Sacy's translation, although very - poor, is the best; look for the magnificent poetry contained - beneath all those ambiguous veilings and obscurities; in - Saul and Joseph, and especially in Job, a poem which is - one long human wail. Read Corneille; learn portions of him - by heart. Corneille is not always poetical, he is at times - pettifogging; but he always uses fine, picturesque and - concise language. Tell Charpentier, from me, to give you - André Chénier: he is the poet of solitude and the night, - akin to the nightingales. Charpentier lives in the rue de - Seine; you can get his address from Buloz. Tell Collin to - give you, through Hachette, four volumes entitled, _Rome - au Siècle d'Auguste_; it is a dry but learned work on - ancient times. Read all Hugo; read Lamartine, but only the - _Méditations_ and the _Harmonies._ Then write an essay - on the passages you think beautiful and those you think - bad; and show it to me on my return. Finally, always keep - yourself occupied, and rest yourself by the variety of - your occupations. Take care of your health _and be wise._ - Good-bye, my dear lad. I told D to give you twenty francs - for a New Year's gift. ALEXANDRE DUMAS" - - _P.S.--_Tell Collin that, as soon as my piece is received, - I will write to Buloz to arrange the business of his - introduction to the Théâtre-Français. Go to Tresse, at - the Palais Royal; get from him at my expense the poems of - Hugo, and his dramas, and Molière of the Panthéon; the - Lamartine I will give you on my return. Read Molière often, - much, always; with Saint-Simon and Madame Sévigné he is - the supreme type of the language of the time of Louis XIV. - Learn by heart certain passages of _Tartuffe_, the _Femmes - savantes_ and the _Misanthrope_: there have been and there - will be other masterpieces of style, but nothing will ever - exceed these in beauty. Learn by heart the monologue of - Charles Quint from _Hernani_, all _Marion Delorme_, the - monologue of Saint-Vallier and that of Triboulet in _Le Roi - s'amuse_, the speech of Angelo on Venice; in conclusion, - although I have few things to mention in comparison with - the works I have just pointed out to you, learn the recital - of Stella, in my _Caligula_; Yaqoub's lion-hunt, as well - as the whole scene between the Comte, the King and Agnes - Sorel, in the third act of _Charles VII._ Read de Vigny's - _Othello_ and _Roméo_; read de Musset without being carried - away by his great facility and his inaccuracy, which in him - might almost be reckoned a virtue, but which, in another, - would be a serious fault. These are the ancient and modern - writers I advise you to study. Later you shall pass on from - these to a wider range. Adieu, you see I am treating you as - though you were a grown-up youth and reasoning with you. You - will soon be fifteen, and what I have said is quite easy - to understand--your health, your health before all things: - health is the foundation of everything in your future, and - especially of talent. - "A. D." - -I hope the sincerity and impartiality of my opinion upon others will be -believed, when it is seen with what sincerity and impartiality I speak -of myself. - -From that day our life began to assume the uniformity and monotony -of the life of the waters. I bethought me that I ought to introduce -myself to the mayor, M. Guétier, a brave and excellent man, who I -believe played a somewhat active part in 1848, in the embarking of -King Louis-Philippe. He gave me free leave to hunt over the communal -marshes, which leave I took advantage of from that very day. The rising -sun shot through the window of my room, and, although the curtains were -drawn, it woke me in my bed. I opened my eyes, stretched out my hand -for my pencil and set to work. At ten o'clock, Mother Oseraie came and -told us breakfast was ready; at eleven, I took my gun and shot three -or four snipe; at two, I began work again until four; at four, I went -for a swim till five; and at half-past five dinner was ready for us; -from seven until nine o'clock we went for a walk on the shore; at nine -o'clock work was begun again and continued until eleven o'clock or -midnight. _Charles VII._ advanced at the rate of a hundred lines per -day. Undiscovered though Trouville was, nevertheless a few Normandy, -Vendéan or Breton bathers came there. Among these was a charming woman, -accompanied by her husband and her son; I remember nothing more about -her than her name and face: she was gracious and prepossessing in -expression, with a slightly aristocratic air; her name was Madame de la -Garenne. From the day of her arrival, directly she knew I was living at -the hotel, she began the preliminaries of making an acquaintanceship -by boldly lending me her album. I had just finished the great scene -in the third act between the Comte de Savoisy and Charles VII., and I -copied it out for her, newly born from my brain. A good sort of young -fellow had come with them, who concealed some degree of knowledge and -great determination under the retiring air of a country gentleman. He -was a sportsman, which similarity of tastes rapidly made us congenial -companions if not exactly friends. He was the unfortunate Bonnechose, -who was hung during the Vendéan insurrection of 1832. Whilst we were -walking and hunting in the marsh lands round Trouville, Madame la -Duchesse de Berry obtained permission from King Charles X. to make -an attempt on France, under the title of regent; she left Edinburgh, -went through Holland, stayed a day or two at Mayence, and the same at -Frankfort, crossed the frontier of Switzerland and entered Piedmont; -then, finally, under the name of the Comtesse de Sagana, she stopped -at Sestri, a small town a dozen leagues from Genoa, in the provinces -of King Charles-Albert. Thus, all unsuspected by Bonnechose, death -was postponed for one year! Meantime, the report began to spread in -Paris that a new seaport had been discovered between Honfleur and -la Délivrande. The result was that from time to time a venturesome -bather would arrive who would ask timidly, "Is there a village called -Trouville about here, and is that it with the belfry tower?" And I -would reply _yes_, to my great regret: for I foresaw the time when -Trouville would become another Dieppe or Boulogne or Ostend. I was not -mistaken. Alas! Trouville has now ten inns; and land which could be -bought at a hundred francs the arpent,[1] to-day fetches five francs -per foot. One day among these venturesome bathers, these wandering -tourists, these navigators without compass, there arrived a man of -twenty-eight to thirty years of age, who gave out that his name was -Beudin and that he was a banker. On the very evening of his arrival -I was bathing a long distance off in the sea, when about ten yards -from me, on the crest of a wave, I perceived a fish which realised the -dream of Marécot in the _Ours et le Pacha_--that is to say, it was a -huge enormous fish such as one scarcely ever sees, the like of which -many never have seen. Had I possessed a little more vanity, I might -have taken it for a dolphin and imagined it had taken me for another -Arion; but I simply took it for a fish of gigantic proportions, and, -I confess, its proximity disturbed me--I set to work to swim to the -shore as hard as I could. I was a good swimmer, in those days, but my -neighbour, the fish, could swim still better; accordingly, without any -apparent effort, it followed me, always keeping an equal distance from -me. Two or three times, feeling fatigued--mostly from want of breath--I -thought of taking to my feet, but I was afraid of becoming nervous if -I found too great a depth of water beneath me. I therefore continued -to swim until my knees ploughed into the sand. The other swimmers were -looking at me in astonishment; my fish was following me as though I -held it in leash. When I got to the point of touching the sand with my -knees I stood up. My fish made somersault after somersault and seemed -overjoyed with satisfaction. I turned round and looked at it more -closely and calmly. I saw it was a porpoise. Instantly I ran to Mother -Oseraie's house. I ran through the village just as I was, in my bathing -drawers. Although Mother Oseraie was not very impressionable, she was -not accustomed to receive travellers in so light a costume and she -uttered a cry. - -"Don't mind me, Mother Oseraie," I said to her, "I have come to get my -gun." - -"Good Lord!" she said, "are you going to hunt in the happy hunting -fields?" - -Had I been in less of a hurry, I would have stopped and complimented -her on her wit; but I only thought of the porpoise. Upon the stairs -I met Madame de la Garenne; the staircase was very narrow and I drew -aside to let her pass. I thought of asking how her husband and son -were, but I reflected that the moment for holding a conversation was -ill-chosen. Madame de la Garenne passed by and I flew into my room and -seized hold of my carbine. The chamber-maid was making my bed. - -"Ah! monsieur, instead of taking your gun hadn't you better take some -clothes?" - -It seemed as though my costume inspired wit in all who saw me. I ran -full tilt down the road to the sea. My porpoise was still turning -somersaults. I went up to my waist in the water until I was about -fifty feet from him; I was afraid I might frighten him if I went any -nearer; besides, I was just at the right range. I took aim and fired. -I heard the dull sound of the ball penetrating the flesh. The porpoise -dived and disappeared. Next day, the fishermen found it dead among the -mussel-covered rocks. The bullet had entered a little below the eye and -gone through the head. - - -[1] TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.--An old French measure varying in different -provinces from 3 roods to 2 English acres. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - - Why M. Beudin came to Trouville--How I knew him under - another name--Prologue of a drama--What remained to - be done--Division into three parts--I finish _Charles - VII._--Departing from Trouville--In what manner I learn of - the first performance of _Marion Delorme_ - - -The night of that adventure, the fresh bather came up to me and -complimented me on my skill. It was an excuse for beginning a -conversation. We sat out on the beach and chatted. After a few remarks -had been exchanged he said to me: - -"Well! there is one thing you have no idea of." - -"What is that?" I asked. - -"That I have come here almost on your account." - -"How so?" - -"You do not recognise me under my name of Beudin?" - -"I confess I do not." - -"But you may, perhaps, recognise me under that of Dinaux?" - -"What! Victor Ducange's collaborator!" - -"Exactly." - -"The same who wrote _Trente ans ou la vie d'un Joueur_ with him?" - -"That was I ... or rather us." - -"Why us?" - -"There were two of us: Goubaux and myself." - -"Ah! I knew Goubaux; he is a man of boundless merit." - -"Thanks!" - -"Pardon ... one cannot be skilful both with gun and in conversation ... -With the gun, now, I should not have missed you!" - -"You have not missed me as it is; in the first shot you brought me down -by saying that Goubaux was a clever man and that I was an idiot!" - -"Confess that you never thought I meant anything of the kind?" - -"Upon my word, no!" And we burst out laughing. - -"Well," I resumed, "as you probably did not hunt me out to receive the -compliment I have just given you, tell me why you did." - -"To talk to you about a play which Goubaux and I did not feel equal to -bringing to a satisfactory conclusion, but which, in your hands, would -become--plus the style--equal to the _Joueur._" - -I bowed my thanks. - -"No, upon my word of honour, I am certain the idea will take your -fancy!" continued Beudin. - -"Have you any part done or is it still in a nebulous state?" - -"We have done the prologue, which is in quite a tangible shape.... But, -as for the rest, you must help us to do it." - -"Have you the prologue with you?" - -"No, nothing is written down yet; but I can relate it to you." - -"I am listening." - -"The scene is laid in Northumberland, about 1775. An old physician -whom, if you will, we will call Dr. Grey and his wife separate, the -wife to go to bed, the husband to work part of the night. Scarcely has -the wife closed the door of her room, before a carriage stops under the -doctor's windows and a man inquires for a doctor. Dr. Grey reveals his -profession; the travellers asks hospitality for some one who cannot -go any further. The doctor opens his door and a masked man, carrying -a woman in his arms, enters upon the scene, telling the postilion to -unharness the horses and hide both them and the carriage." - -"Bravo! the beginning is excellent!... We can picture the masked man -and the sick woman." - -The woman is near her confinement; her lover is carrying her away and -they are on their way to embark at Shields when the pangs of childbirth -come upon the fugitive; it is important to conceal all trace of her; -her father, who is the all-powerful ambassador of Spain in London, is -in pursuit of her. The doctor attends to them with all haste: he points -out a room to the masked man who carries the patient into it; then he -rouses his wife to help him to attend to the sick woman. At this moment -they hear the sound of a carriage passing at full gallop. The cries of -the woman call the doctor to her side; the masked man comes back on the -stage, not having the courage to witness his mistress's sufferings. -After a short time the doctor rushes to find his guest: the unknown -woman has just given birth to a boy, and mother and child are both -doing well." - -The narrator interrupted himself. - -"Do you think," he asked me, "that this scene would be possible on the -stage?" - -"Why not? It was possible in Terence's day." - -"In what way?" - -"Thus: - - "PAMPHILA. - Miseram me! differor deloribus! Juno Lucina, fer opem! Serva - me, obsecro! - - REGIO. - Numnam ilia, quæso, parturit?... Hem! - - PAMPHILA. - Oh! unhappy wretch! My pains overcome me! Juno Lucina, come - to my aid! save me, I entreat thee. - - REGIO. - Hullo, I say, is she about to be confined?" - -"Is that in Terence?" - -"Certainly." - -"Then we are saved!" - -"I quite believe it! It is as purely classical as _Amphitryon_ and -_l'Avare."_ - -"I will proceed, then." - -"And I will listen!" - -"Just as the masked man is rushing into the chamber of the sick -woman, there is a violent knocking at Dr. Grey's door. 'Who is there? -Open in the name of the law!' It is the father, a constable and two -police-officers. The doctor is obliged to admit that he has given -shelter to the two fugitives; the father declares that he will carry -his daughter away instantly. The doctor opposes in the name of humanity -and his wife; the father insists; the doctor then informs him of the -condition of the sick woman, and both beg him to be merciful to her. -Fury of the father, who completely ignores the situation. At that -moment, the masked man comes joyfully out of the sickroom and is aghast -to see the father of the woman he has carried off; the father leaps at -his throat and demands his arrest. The noise of the struggle reaches -the _accouchée_, who comes out half-fainting and falls at her father's -feet: she vows she will follow her lover everywhere, even to prison; -that he is her husband in the eyes of men. The father again and more -energetically calls into requisition the assistance of the constable -and takes his daughter in his arms to carry her away. The doctor and -his wife implore in vain. The masked man comes forward in his turn ... -and the act finishes there; stay, I have outlined the last scene ... -Let us suppose that the masked man has assumed the name of Robertson, -that the father is called Da Sylva and the young lady Caroline:-- - - "ROBERTSON, _putting his hand on Da Sylva's - shoulder._--Leave her alone. - - CAROLINE.--Oh, father!... my Robertson!... - - DA SYLVA.--Thy Robertson, indeed!... Look, all of you and I - will show you who thy Robertson is ... Off with that mask." - (He snatches it from Robertson's face).--"Look he is ..." - - "ROBERTSON.--Silence; in the name of and for the sake of - your daughter." - -"You understand," Beudin went on "he quickly puts his mask on again, so -quickly that nobody, except the audience whom he is facing, has time to -see his countenance." - -"Well; after that?" - -"After?" - - "You are right," says Da Sylva; "she alone shall know who - you are.... This man." - - "Well?" asks Caroline anxiously. - - "This man," says Da Sylva leaning close to his daughter's - ear; "this man is the executioner!" - -"Caroline shrieks and falls. That is the end of the prologue." - -"Wait a bit," I said, "surely I know something similar to that ... yes -... no. Yes, in the _Chronicles of the Canongate!_" - -"Yes; it was, in fact, Walter Scott's novel which gave us the idea for -our play." - -"Well, but what then? There is no drama in the remainder of the novel." - -"No.... So we depart completely from it here." - -"Good! And when we leave it what follows?" - -"There is an interval of twenty-six years. The stage represents the -same room; only, everything has grown older in twenty-six years, -personages, furniture and hangings. The man whose face the audience -saw, and whom Da Sylva denounced in a whisper to his daughter, as the -executioner, is playing chess with Dr. Grey; Mrs. Grey is sewing; -Richard, the child of the prologue, is, standing up writing; Jenny, the -doctor's daughter, watches him as he writes." - -"Stay, that idea of everybody twenty-six years older is capital." - -"And then?" - -"Ah! plague take it! That is all there is," said Beudin. "What, you -stop there?" - -"Yes ... the deuce! you know well enough that if the play were -concluded we should not want your assistance!" - -"Quite so ... but still, you must have some idea concerning the rest of -the play?" - -"Yes ... Richard has grown up under his father's care. Richard is -ambitious, and wants to become a member of the House of Commons. Dr. -Grey's influence can help him: he pretends to be in love with his -daughter ... We will have the spectacle of an English election, which -will be out of the common." - -"And then?" - -"Well then, you must invent the rest." - -"But, come, that means that there is nearly the whole thing to finish!" - -"Yes, very nearly ... But that won't trouble you!" - -"That's all very well; but, at this moment, I am busy on my drama, -_Charles VII._, and I cannot give my mind to anything else." - -"Oh! there is no desperate hurry for it! meantime Goubaux will work -away at it whilst I will do likewise ... You like the idea?" - -"Yes." - -"All right! when you return to Paris we will have a meeting at your -house or at mine or at Goubaux's and we will fix our plans." - -"Granted, but on one condition." - -"What?" - -"That it shall be under your names and I shall remain behind the -curtain." - -"Why so?" - -"Because, in the first place, the idea is not mine; and, secondly, -because I have decided never to let my name be associated with any -other name."[1] - -"Then we will withhold our names." - -"No, indeed! that is out of the question." - -"Very well, as you will! We will settle the point when we have come to -it.... You will take half share?" - -"Why half, when there are three of us?" - -"Because we are leaving you the trouble of working out the plot." - -"I will compose the play if you wish; but I will only take a third of -the profits." - -"We will discuss all that in Paris." - -"Precisely so! But do not forget that I make my reservations." - -"Then, this 24 July, at five o'clock in the afternoon, it is agreed -that you, Goubaux and I shall write _Richard Darlington_ between us." - -"To-day, 24 July, my birthday, it is agreed, at five o'clock in the -afternoon, that Goubaux, you and I shall write _Richard Darlington._" - -"Is to-day your birthday?" - -"I was twenty-nine at four o'clock this morning." - -"Bravo! that will bring us good luck!" - -"I hope so!" - -"When shall you be in Paris?" - -"About 15 August." - -"That will suit perfectly!" - -"Now, jot down the plan of the prologue for me on a slip of paper." - -"Why now?" - -"Because I shall come to the rendezvous with the prologue completed.... -The more there is done the less will there be to do." - -"Capital! you shall have the outline to-morrow." - -"Oh! it will do if I have it just before I leave; if I have it -to-morrow, I shall finish it the day after to-morrow, and that will -cause trouble in the matter of the drama I am writing." - -"Very well; I will keep it ready for you." - -"Ah! one more favour." - -"Which is?" - -"Do not let us speak of _Richard Darlington_ again; I shall think of -it quite enough, you need not fear, without talking about it." - -"We will not mention it again." - -And, as a matter of fact, from that moment, there was no reference made -between us to _Richard Darlington_--I will not say as though it had -never existed, but as though it never were to exist. On the other hand, -_Charles VII._ went on its way. On 10 August I wrote the four last -lines. - - "Vous qui, nés sur la terre, - Portez comme des chiens, la chaîne héréditaire, - Demeurez en hurlant près du sépulcre ou vert ... - Pour Yakoub, il est libre, et retourne au désert!" - -When the work was finished, I read it over. It was, as I have said, -more in the nature of a _pastiche_ than a true drama; but there was an -immense advance in style between _Christine_ and _Charles VII._ True, -_Christine_ is far superior to _Charles VII._ in imagination and in -dramatic feeling. - -Nothing further kept me at Trouville. Beudin had preceded me to Paris -several days before. We took leave of M. and Madame de la Garenne; we -settled our accounts with Madame Oseraie and we started for Paris. -Bonnechose accompanied us as far as Honfleur. He did not know how to -part with us, poor fellow! He might have guessed that we were never to -see each other again. The same night we took diligence from Rouen. Next -day, at dawn, the travellers got down to climb a hillside; I thought -I recognised, among our fellow-passengers, one of the editors of the -_Journal des Débats._ I went up to him as he was coming towards me, and -we got into conversation. - -"Well!" he said, "you have heard?" - -"What?" - -"_Marion Delorme_ has been performed." - -"Ah really?... And here am I hurrying to be present at the first -performance!" - -"You will not see it ... and you will not have lost much." - -It was a matter of course that the editor of a journal so devoted an -admirer of Hugo as was the _Journal des Débats_ should speak thus of -the great poet. - -"Why do I not miss much? Has the play not succeeded?" - -"Oh! yes indeed! but coldly, coldly, coldly; and no money in it." - -My companion said this with the intense gratification of the critic -taking his revenge upon the author, of the eunuch with his foot on the -sultan's neck. - -"Cold? No money?" I repeated. - -"And besides, badly played!" - -"Badly played by Bocage and Dorval! Come now!" - -"If the author had had any common-sense he would have withdrawn the -play or he would have had it performed after the July Revolution, while -things were warm after the rejection of MM. de Polignac and de la -Bourdonnaie." - -"But as to poetry?..." - -"Weak! Much poorer than _Hernani!_" - -"Ah! say you so," I burst forth, "a drama weak in poetry that contains -such lines as these!"-- - - "LE ROI. - - Je sais l'affaire, assez q'avez vous a me dire? - - LE MARQUIS DE NANGIS. - - Je dis qu'il est bien temps que vous y songiez, sire: - Que le cardinal-due a de sombres projets, - Et qu'il boit le meilleur du sang de vos sujets. - Votre père Henri, de mémoire royale, - N'eut point ainsi livré sa noblesse loyale; - Il ne la frappait point sans y fort regarder, - Et, bien gardé par elle, il savait la garder; - Il savait qu'on peut faire, avec des gens d'épees, - Quelque chose de mieux que des têtes coupées; - Qu'ils sont bons à la guerre! Il ne l'ignorait point, - Lui, dont plus d'une balle a troué le pourpoint. - Ce temps était le bon; j'en fus, et je l'honore; - Un peu de seigneurie y palpitait encore. - Jamais à des seigneurs un prêtre n'eût touché; - On n'avait point alors de tête à bon marché. - Sire, en des jours mauvais comme ceux où nous sommes, - Croyez un vieux; gardez un peu de gentilshommes. - Vous en aurez besoin peut-être à votre tour! - Hélas! vous gémirez peut-être, quelque jour! - Que la place de Grève ait été si fêtée, - Et que tant de seigneurs, de valeur indomptée; - Vers qui se tourneront vos regrets envieux, - Soient morts depuis longtemps, qui ne seraient pas vieux! - - Car nous sommes tout chauds de la guerre civile, - Et le tocsin d'hier gronde encor dans la ville - Soyez plus ménager des peines du bourreau: - C'est lui qui doit garder son estoc au fourreau, - Non pas nous! D'échafauds montrez vous économe; - Craignez d'avoir, un jour, à pleurer tel brave homme, - Tel vaillant de grand cœur dont, à l'heure qu'il est, - Le squelette blanchit aux chaînes d'un gibet! - Sire, le sang n'est pas un bonne rosée; - Nulle moisson ne vient sur la grève arrosée; - Et le peuple des rois évite le balcon, - Quand, aux dépens du Louvre, ils peuplent Montfaucon. - Meurent les courtisans, s'il faut que leur voix aille - Vous amuser, pendant que le bourreau travaille! - Cette voix des flatteurs qui dit que tout est bon, - Qu'après tout, on est fils d'Henri Quatre, et Bourbon, - Si haute qu'elle soit, ne couvre pas sans peine - Le bruit sourd qu'en tombant fait une tête humaine. - Je vous en donne avis, ne jouez pas ce jeu, - Roi, qui serez, un jour, face a face avec Dieu. - Donc, je vous dis, avant que rien ne s'accomplisse, - Qu'à tout prendre, il vaut mieux un combat qu'un supplice, - Que ce n'est pas la joie et l'honneur des États - De voir plus de besogneaux bourreaux qu'aux soldats! - Que ce n'est un pasteur dur pour la France où vous êtes, - Qu'un prêtre qui se paye une dîme de têtes, - Et que cet homme, illustre entre les inhumains, - Qui touche à votre sceptre, a du sang à ses mains!" - -"Why! you know it by heart then?" - -"I hope so, indeed!" - -"Why the deuce did you learn it?" - -"I know nearly the whole of _Marion Delorme_ by heart." - -And I quoted almost the whole of the scene between Didier and Marion -Delorme, in the island. - -"Ah! that is indeed odd!" he said. - -"No! there is nothing odd about it. I simply think _Marion Delorme_ one -of the most beautiful things in the world. I had the manuscript at my -disposal and have read and re-read it. The lines I have just recited -have remained in my memory and I repeated them to you in support of my -opinion." - -"Then, too," continued my critic, "the plot is taken from de Vigny's -novel...." - -"Good! that is exactly where Hugo shows his wisdom. I would willingly -have been his John the forerunner in this instance." - -"Do you mean to say that Saverny and Didier are not copied from -Cinq-Mars and de Thou?" - -"As man is copied from man and no further!" - -"And Didier is your Antony." - -"Rather say that Antony is taken from Didier, seeing that _Marion -Delorme_ was made a year before I dreamt of _Antony_ "Ah! well, one -good thing has come out of it." - -"What is that?" - -"Your defence of Victor Hugo." - -"Why not? I like him and admire him." - -"A colleague!" said the critic in a tone of profound pity, and -shrugging his shoulders. - -"Take your seats, gentlemen!" shouted the conductor. - -We remounted, the editor of the _Journal des Débats_ inside, I in the -coupé, and the diligence resumed a monotonous trot, to meditation. - - -[1] I resolutely stuck to this decision until the time when my great -friendship with Maquet determined me to spring the surprise upon him -of putting forth his name with mine as the author of the drama of _Les -Mousquetaires._ This was but fair, however, since we did not only -the drama, but also the romance, in collaboration. I am delighted to -be able to add, that, although we have not worked together now for a -couple of years, the friendship is just the same, at all events on my -side. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - - _Marion Delorme_ - - -I fell into meditation. What was the reason the public was not of my -way of thinking about _Marion Delorme_? I had remarked to Taylor on the -night of the reading at Devéria's-- - -"If Hugo makes as much dramatic progress as is usual in ordinary -dramatic development, we shall all be done for!" - -The first act of _Marion_, in style and argument, is one of the -cleverest and most fascinating ever seen on the stage. All the -characters take part in it: Marion, Didier and Saverny. The last six -lines forecast the whole play, even including the conversion of the -courtesan. Marion remains in a reverie for a while, then she calls out-- - - "MARION. - Dame Rose - (_Montrant la fenêtre._) - Fermez ... - - - DAME ROSE, _à part._ - On dirait qu'elle pleure! - (_Haut._) - Il est temps de dormir, madame. - - MARION. - Oui, c'est votre heure, - A vous autres ... - (_Défaisant ses cheveux._) - Venez m'accommoder. - - DAME ROSE _(la désabillant)._ - Eh bien, - Madame, le monsieur de ce soir est-il bien?... - Riche?... - - MARION. - Non. - - DAME ROSE. - Galant? - - MARION. - Non, Rose: il ne m'a pas même - Baisé la main! - - DAME ROSE. - Alors, qu'en faites-vous? - - MARION, _pensive._ - Je l'aime!..." - -The second act scintillates with wit and poetry. The very original -character of Langely, which is unfolded in the fourth act, is inserted -as neatly as possible. - -As regards poetry I know none in any other language constructed like -this-- - - "Monsieur vient de Paris? Dit-on quelques nouvelles? - --Point! Corneille toujours met en l'air les cervelles; - Guiche a l'Ordre, Ast est duc. Puis des riens à foisson: - De trente huguenots on a fait pendaison. - Toujours nombre de duels. Le trois, c'était Augennes - Contre Arquien, pout avoir porté du point de Gênes. - Lavardin avec Pons s'est rencontré le dix, - Pour avoir pris a Pons la femme de Sourdis; - Sourdis avec d'Ailly, pour une du théâtre - De Mondori; le neuf, Nogent avec la Châtre, - Pour avoir mal écrit trois vers a Colletet; - Gorde avec Margaillan, pour l'heure qu'il était; - D'Humière avec Gondi, pour le pas à l'église; - Et puis tous les Brissac contre tous les Soubise, - A propos du pari d'un cheval contre un chien; - Enfin, Caussade avec la Tournelle, pour rien, - Poir le plaisir! Caussade a tué la Tournelle. - . . . . . . . . . - --Refais nous donc la liste - - De tous ces duels ... Qu'en dit le roi? - --Le cardinal - Est furieux, et veux un prompt remède au mal! - --Point de courrier du camp? - --Je crois que, par surprise, - Nous avons pris Figuière ... ou bien qu'on nous l'à prise ... - C'est a nous qu'on l'a prise! - --Et que dit de ce coup - Le roi? - --Le cardinal n'est pas content du tout! - --Que fait la cour? le roi se porte bien, sans doute? - --Non pas: le cardinal a la fièvre et la goutte, - Et ne va qu'en litière. - --Étrange original! - Quand nous te parlons roi, tu réponds cardinal! - --Ah! c'est la mode!" - -In order to understand the value of the second act, we must quote line -after line. The whole play, in fact, has but one defect: its dazzling -poetry blinds the actors; players of the first order are necessary for -the acting of the very smallest parts. There is a M. de Bouchavannes -who says four lines, I think; the first two upon Corneille-- - - "Famille de robins, de petits avocats, - Qui se sont fait des sous en rognant des ducats!" - -And the other two upon Richelieu-- - - "Meure le Richelieu, qui déchire et qui flatte! - L'homme a la main sanglante, à la robe écarlate!" - -If you can get those four lines said properly by a supernumerary -you will indeed be a great teacher! Or if you can get them said -by an artiste, you will indeed be a clever manager! Then all the -discussion upon Corneille and Gamier, which I imitated in _Christine_, -is excellently appropriate. It had, in fact, come to open fighting -from the moment they accused us of offending against good taste the -theme supported by M. Étienne, M. Viennet and M. Onésime Leroy, and -of placing before the public the opinion held about Corneille, when -Cardinal Richelieu influenced the Academy to censure the _Cid_ in -the same way that we in our turn had censured it! When I say _the -same way_, I mean the same as regards sequence of time and not of -affiliation: Academicians do not reproduce; as is well-known, it is -only with difficulty that they even manage to produce. In conclusion, -the second act is admirably summed up in this line of Langely-- - - "Ça! qui dirait qu'ici c'est moi qui suis le fou?" - -Then comes the third act, full of imagination, in which Laffemas, -Richelieu's black servant, affords contrast to the grey figure of His -Eminence; where Didier and Marion come to ask hospitality from the -Marquis de Nangis, lost in the midst of a troop of mountebanks; when -Didier learns from Saverny that Marie and Marion are one and the same -woman, and where, his heart broken by one of the greatest sorrows that -can wring man's soul, he gives himself up to the guilty lieutenant. - -The fourth act is a masterpiece. It has been objected that this act -no more belongs to the play than a drawer does to a chest of drawers; -granted! But in that drawer the author has enclosed the very gem of -the whole play: the character of Louis XIII., the wearied, melancholy, -ill, weak, cruel and superstitious king, who has nobody but a clown to -distract his thoughts, and who only talks with him of scaffolds and of -beheadings and of tombs, not daring to complain to anyone else of the -state of dependence in which the terrible Cardinal holds him. - -Listen to this-- - - "LANGELY.--Votre Majesté donc souffre bien? - - LE ROI.--Je m'enniue! - Moi, le premier de France, en être le dernier! - Je changerais mon sort au sort d'un braconnier. - Oh! chasser tout le jour en vos allures franches; - N'avoir rien qui vous gêne, et dormir sous les branches; - Rire des gens du roi, chanter pendant l'éclair, - Et vivre libre au bois, comme l'oiseau dans l'air! - Le manant est, du moins, maître et roi dans son bouge. - Mais toujours sous les yeux avoir cet homme rouge; - Toujours là, grave et dur, me disant à toisir: - 'Sire, il faut que ceci soit votre bon plaisir.' - Dérision! cet homme au peuple me dérobe; - Comme on fait d'un enfant, il me met dans sa robe; - Et, lorsqu'un passant dit: 'Qu'est-ce donc que je vois - Dessous le cardinal?' on répond: 'C'est le roi!' - Puis ce sont, tous les jours, quelques nouvelles listes: - Hier, des huguenots, aujourd'hui, des duellistes, - Dont il lui faut la tête ... Un duel! le grand forfait! - Mais des têtes, toujours! qu'est-ce donc qu'il en fait?..." - -In a moment of spite you hear him say to Langely-- - - "Crois-tu, si je voulais, que je serais le maître?" - -And Langely, ever faithful, replies by this line, which has passed into -a proverb-- - - "Montaigne dit: 'Que sais-je?' Et Rabelais: 'Peut-être!'" - -At last he breaks his chain for a second, picks up a pen; and when on -the point of signing a pardon for Didier and Saverny, to his jester, -who says to him-- - - "Toute grâce est un poids qu'un roi du cœur s'enlève!" - -he replies-- - - "Tu dis vrai: j'ai toujours souffert, les jours de Grève! - Nangis avait raison, un mort jamais ne sert, - Et Montfaucon peuplé rend le Louvre désert. - C'est une trahison que de venir, en face, - Au fils du roi Henri nier son droit de grâce! - Que fais-je ainsi, déchu, détrôné, désarmé, - Comme dans un sépulcre en cet homme enfermé? - Sa robe est mon linceul, et mes peuples me pleurent ... - Non! non! je ne veux pas que ces deux enfants meurent! - Vivre est un don du ciel trop visible et trop beau! - Dieu, qui sait où l'on va, peut ouvrir un tombeau; - Un roi, non ... Je les rends tous deux à leur famille; - Us vivront ... Ce vieillard et cette jeune fille - Me béniront! C'est dit. - (_Il signe._) - J'ai signé, moi, le roi! - Le cardinal sera furieux; mais, ma foi! - Tant pis! cela fera plaisir à Bellegarde." - -And Langely says half aloud-- - - "On peut bien, une fois, être roi, par mégarde!" - -What a masterpiece is that act! And then one remembers that because -M. Crosnier was closely pressed, and had to change his spectacle, -he suppressed that act, which, in the words of the critic, _faisait -longueur!_ ... - -Ah well!... - -In the fifth act the pardon is revoked. The young people must die. -They are led out into the courtyard of the prison for a few minutes' -fresh air. Didier converses with the spectre of death visible only to -himself; Saverny sleeps his last sleep. By prostituting herself to -Laffemas, Marion has secured from the judge the life of her lover, and -as she enters, bruised still from the judge's mauling, she says-- - - "Sa lèvre est un fer rouge, et m'a toute marquée!" - -Suppose Mademoiselle Mars, who did not want to say-- - - "Vous êtes, mon lion, superbe et généreux!" - -had had such a line as that to say, think what a struggle there would -have been between her and the author. But Dorval found it easy enough, -and she said the line with admirable expression. - -As for Bocage, the hatred, pride and scorn which he displayed were -truely superb, when, not able to contain himself longer, he lets the -secret escape, which until then had been gnawing his entrails as the -fox the young Spartan's, he exclaimed-- - - "Marie ... ou Marion? - --Didier, soyez clément! - - --Madame, on n'entre pas ici facilement; - - Les bastilles d'État sont nuit et jour gardées; - Les portes sont de fer, les murs ont vingt coudées! - Pour que devant vos pas la porte s'ouvre ainsi, - A qui vous êtes-vous prostituée ici? - --Didier, qui vous a dit? - --Personne ... Je devine! - --Didier, j'en jure ici par la bonté divine, - C'était pour vous sauver, vous arracher d'ici, - Pour fléchir les bourreaux, pour vous sauver ... - --Merci! - Ah! qu'on soit jusque-là sans pudeur et sans âme, - C'est véritablement une honte, madame! - Où donc est le marchand d'opprobre et de mépris - Qui se fait acheter ma tête à de tels prix? - Où donc est le geôlier, le juge? où donc est l'homme? - Que je le broie ici! qui je l'écrase ... comme - Ceci! - (_Il brise le portrait de Marion._) - Le juge! Allez, messieurs, faites des lois, - Et jugez! Que m'importe, à moi, que le faux poids - Qui fait toujours pencher votre balance infâme - Soit la tête d'un homme ou l'honneur d'une femme!" - -I challenge anyone to find a more powerful or affecting passage in -any language that has been written since the day when the lips of man -uttered a first cry, a first complaint. Finally, Didier forgives Marion -for being Marion, and, for a moment, the redeemed courtesan again -becomes the lover. It is then that she speaks these two charming lines, -which were suppressed at the performance and even, I believe, in the -printed play-- - - "De l'autre Marion rien en moi n'est resté, - Ton amour m'a refait une virginité!" - -Then the executioner enters, the two young people walk to the scaffold, -the wall falls, Richelieu passes through the breach in his litter, and -Marion Delorme, laid on the ground, half-fainting, recognises Didier's -executioner, rises, exclaiming with a gesture of menace and of despair-- - - "Regardez tous! voici l'homme rouge qui passe!" - -It is twenty-two years ago since I meditated thus in the coupé of my -diligence, going over in memory the whole play of _Marion Delorme._ -After twenty-two years I have just re-read it in order to write this -chapter; my appreciation of it has not changed; if anything, I think -the drama even more beautiful now than I did then. Now, what was the -reason that it was less successful than _Hernani_ or than _Lucrèce -Borgia?_ This is one of those mysteries which neither the sibyl of Cumæ -nor the pythoness of Delphi will ever explain,--nor _the soul of the -earth_, which speaks to M. Hennequin. Well, I say it boldly, there is -one thing of which I am as happy now as I was then: in reading that -beautiful drama again, for each act of which I would give a year of -my life, were it possible, I have felt a greater admiration for my -dear Victor, a more fervent friendship towards him and not one atom -of envy. Only, I repeat at my desk in Brussels what I said in the -Rouen diligence: "Ah! if only I could write such lines as these since -I know so well how to construct a play!..." I reached Paris without -having thought of anything else but _Marion Delorme._ I had completely -forgotten _Charles VII._ I went to pay my greetings to Bocage and -Dorval the very evening of my arrival. They promised to act for me, and -I took my place in the theatre. Exactly what I expected had happened to -spoil the play; except for Bocage, who played Didier; Dorval, Marion; -and Chéri, Saverny; the rest of the play was ruined. The result of -course was that all the marvellous poetry was extinguished, as a breath -extinguishes the clearness of a mirror. I left the theatre with a heavy -heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - - Collaboration - - -I had to let a few days go by before I had the courage to return to -my own verses after having heard and re-read those of Hugo. I felt -inclined to do to _Charles VII._ what Harel had asked me to do to -_Christine_: to put it into prose. Finally, I gathered together some -friends at my house, and read them my new drama. But, whether I read -badly or whether they came to me with biased minds, the reading did -not have the effect upon them that I expected. This want of success -discouraged me. Two days later, I had to read to Harel, who had already -sent me my premium of a thousand francs, and also to Georges, to whom -the part of Bérengère was allotted. I wrote to Harel not to count on -the play and I sent him back his thousand francs. I decided not to have -my drama played. Harel believed neither in my abnegation nor in my -honesty. He came rushing to me in alarm. I laid my reasons before him, -taking as many pains to depreciate my work as another would have done -to exalt his. But to everything I said Harel took exception, repeating-- - -"It is not that ... it is not that ... it is not that!" - -"What, then, is it?" I exclaimed. - -"The Théâtre-Français had offered you five thousand francs premium!" - -"Me?" - -"I know it." - -"Me, five thousand francs premium?" - -"I tell you I know it, and in proof ..." He drew five one-thousand -franc notes from his pocket. - -"The proof lies here in the five thousand francs I bring you." And he -held out the five notes to me. - -I took one of them. - -"All right," I said, "there is nothing to change in the programme; I -will read it the day after to-morrow. Only, tell Lockroy to be at the -reading." - -"Well, what about the remaining four thousand francs?" - -"They do not belong to me, my dear fellow; therefore you must take them -back." - -Harel scratched his ear and looked at me sideways. It was evident he -did not understand. - -Poor Harel! how sharp he was! - -Two days later, before Harel, Georges, Janin and Lockroy I read the -play with immense success. It was at once put in rehearsal and was to -appear soon after a drama of _Mirabeau_, which was being studied. I -would fain say what the drama of _Mirabeau_ was like, but I cannot now -remember. All I know is that the principal part was for Frédérick, and -that they thought a great deal of the work. - -_Charles VII._ was distributed as follows:--Savoisy, Ligier; Bérengère, -Georges; Yaqoub, Lockroy; Charles VII., Delafosse: Agnes Sorel, Noblet. -This business of the distribution done, I immediately turned to -_Richard_; its wholly modern colouring, political theme, vivid and -rather coarse treatment was more in accord with my own age and special -tastes than studies of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Let me -hasten to say that I was then not anything like as familiar with those -periods as I am now. - -I wrote to Goubaux that I was at his disposition if it pleased him -to come, either next day to breakfast at my house, or at his own if -he preferred. We had become neighbours; I had left my lodgings in -the rue de l'Université and had taken a third floor in the square -d'Orléans, a very fine house just built in the rue Saint-Lazare, 42, -where several of my friends already lived, Zimmermann, Étienne Arago, -Robert Fleury and Gué. I believe Zimmermann and Robert Fleury still -live there: Gué is dead and Étienne Arago is in exile. Goubaux, who -lived at No. 19 rue Blanche, fixed a rendezvous there for six in -the evening. We were to dine first and talk of _Richard Darlington_ -afterwards. I say _talk_, because, at the time of reading, it was found -that hardly anything had been written. However, Goubaux had found -several guide-posts to serve as beacons for our three acts. There were, -pre-eminently, traits of character to suit ambitious actors. One of -the principal was where Dr. Grey recalls to Richard and Mawbray, when -Richard is about to marry Jenny, the circumstances of the famous night -which formed the subject of the prologue, relating how a carriage -stopped at the door. "Had that carriage a _coat of arms?_" asked -Richard. Another item, still more remarkable, was given me to make what -I liked of it: the daughter of Da Sylva, Caroline, Richard's mother, -has married a Lord Wilmor; it is his daughter who is to marry Richard, -led away by the king determined to divorce Jenny. Only, Caroline, who -sees no more in Richard than an influential Member of Parliament, one -day destined to become a minister, demands an interview with Richard -to reveal a great secret to him; the secret is the existence of a -boy who was lost in the little village of Darlington, and who, being -her son, has the right to her fortune. Richard listens with growing -attention; then, at one particular passage, Wilmor's recital coincides -so remarkably with that of Mawbray as to leave no room for doubt in his -mind; but, instead of revealing himself, instead of flinging himself -into the arms of the woman who confesses her shame and weeps, asking -for her child back again, he gently disengages himself from her in -order to say to himself in a whisper, "She is my mother!" and to ask -himself, still in a whisper, "Who can my father be?" Finally, Richard -accepts the king's proposals; he must get rid of his wife, no matter -at what price, even were it that of a crime. This is about as far as -the work had progressed at our first talk with Goubaux. I kept my word -and brought the prologue entirely finished. I had done it exactly -as Goubaux had imagined it should be written; I had, therefore, but -to take courage and to continue. While Goubaux talked, my mind was -gathering up all the threads he held, and, like an active weaver, in -less than an hour, I had almost entirely sketched out the plan on my -canvas. I shared my mental travail with him, all unformed as it was. -The divorce scene between Richard and his wife, in especial, delighted -me immensely. A scene of Schiller had returned to my memory, a scene of -marvellous beauty and vigour. I saw how I could apply the scene between -Philip II. and Elizabeth, to Richard and Jenny. I will give the two -scenes in due course. All this preparatory work was settled between -us;--in addition to this, it was decided that Goubaux and Beudin should -write the election scene together, for which I had not the necessary -data, while Beudin had been present at scenes of this nature in London. -Then Goubaux looked at me. - -"Only one thing troubles me now," he said. - -"Only one?" - -"Yes; I see all the rest of the play, which cannot fail to turn out all -right in your hands." - -"Then what is the thing that troubles you?" - -"The _dénoûment._" - -"Why the _dénoûment?_ We have got that already." - -Mawbray comes forward as witness and says to Richard, who is about to -sign: 'You are my son, and I am the executioner!' Richard falls to the -ground and a fit of apoplexy sends him to the devil, which is the right -place for him." - -"No, that is not it at all," said Goubaux, shaking his head. - -"What is it then?" - -"It is the way in which he gets rid of his wife." - -"Ah!" I said. "And you have no idea how that is to be done?" - -"I had indeed some idea of making him put poison in her tea." - -It was now my turn to shake my head. - -"The death of Jenny must be caused by something in the situation, an -act of frenzy, not by premeditation." - -"Oh, yes! I am well aware of that ... but think of a dagger thrust ... -Richard is not an Antony, he does not carry daggers about in his coat -pockets!" - -"Then," said I, "he shall not stab her." - -"But if he does not poison her or stab her what shall he do?" - -"Chuck her out of the window!" - -"What?" - -I repeated my phrase. - -"I must have misunderstood you," said Goubaux. - -"No." - -"But, my dear friend, you must be out of your mind." - -"Leave it to me." - -"But it is impossible!" - -"I see the scene ... just when Richard thinks Jenny has been carried -off by Tompson, he finds her hidden in the cupboard of the very room -where they are going to sign the contract; at the same moment he -hears the steps of Da Sylva and his daughter on the staircase. In -order not to be surprised with Jenny, there is but one way out of the -difficulty--to throw her out of the window. So he throws her out of the -window." - -"I must confess you frighten me with your methods of procedure! In the -second act, he breaks Jenny's head against the furniture; in the third -act he flings her out of the window. . . . Oh! come, come!" - -"Listen, let me finish the thing as I like--then, if it is absurd, we -will alter it." - -"Will you listen to reason?" - -"I? Set your mind at rest; when I am convinced, I will, if necessary, -reconstruct the whole play from beginning to end." - -"When will the first act be ready?" - -"What day of the week is this?" - -"Monday." - -_"_ Come and dine with me on Thursday: it will be done." - -"But your rehearsals at the Odéon?" - -"Bah! The parts are being collated to-day; for a fortnight they will -read round a table or rehearse with the parts in their hands. By the -end of the fortnight Richard will be finished." - -_"Amen!_" - -"Adieu." - -"Are you going already?" - -"I must get to work." - -"At what?" - -"Why at _Richard_, of course! Do you think I have too much time? Our -first act is not an easy one to begin." - -"Don't forget the part of Tompson!" - -"You needn't be anxious, I have it ... When we come to the scene where -Mawbray kills him we will give him a Shakespearian death!" - -"Mawbray kills him then?" - -"Yes ... Did I not tell you that?" - -"No." - -"The deuce! does it displease you, then, that Mawbray kills Tompson?" - -"I? Not the slightest." - -"You will leave it to me? Tompson?" - -"Certainly." - -"Then he is a dead man. Adieu." - -I ran off and got into bed. At that time I still maintained the -habit of writing my dramas in bed. Whilst I wrote the first scene of -the first act, Goubaux and Beudin did the election scene, a lively, -animated scene, full of character. When Goubaux came to dine with me, -on the following Thursday, everything was ready and the two scenes -could be fitted together. I then began on the second act, that is to -say, upon the vital part of the drama. Richard's talent has caused him -to reach the front rank of the Opposition, and he refuses all offers -made him by the ministers; but he is cleverly brought in contact with -an unknown benefactor, who makes him such offers and promises that -Richard sells his conscience to become the son-in-law of Lord Wilmor -and to be a minister. It is in the second scene of that act that -the divorce incident takes place between Richard and Jenny, which -was imitated from Schiller. On the Tuesday following we had a fresh -meeting. All went swimmingly, except the scene between the king and -Richard. I had completely failed in this, and so Goubaux undertook to -remould it, and he made it what it is, that is to say, one of the best -and cleverest in the work. Here is the scene imitated from Schiller-- - - "ACTE IV.--SCENE IX. - - LE ROI.--Je ne me connais plus moi-même! je ne respecte - plus aucune voix, aucune loi de la nature, aucun droit des - nations! - - LA REINE.--Combien je plains Votre Majesté! - - LE ROI.--Me plaindre? La pitié d'une impudique! - - L'INFANTE, _se jetant tout effrayée dans les bras de sa - mère._--Le roi est en colère, et ma mère chérie pleure! (_Le - roi arrache l'infante des bras de sa mère._) - - LA REINE, _avec douceur et dignité mais à une voix - tremblante._--Je dois pourtant garantir cette enfant des - mauvais traitements!... Viens avec moi, ma fille! (_Elle la - prend dans ses bras._) Si le roi ne veut pas te reconnaîtra, - je ferai venir de l'autre côté des Pyrénées des protecteurs - pour défendre notre cause! - - (_Elle veut sortir._) - - LE ROI, _trouble._--Madame! - - LA REINE.--Je ne puis plus supporter ... C'en est trop! - (_Elle s'avance vers la porte, mais s'évanouit et tombe avec - l'infante._) - - LE ROI, _courant a elle avec effroi._--Dieu! qu'est-ce donc? - - L'INFANTE, _avec des cris de frayeur._--Hélas! ma mère - saigne! (_Elle s'enfuit en pleurant._) - - LE ROI, _avec anxiété._--Quel terrible accident! Du sang! - ... Ai-je mérité que vous me punissiez si cruellement?... - Levez-vous! remettez-vous ... On vient ... levez-vous ... - On vous surprendra ... levez-vous!... Faut-il que toute ma - cour se repaisse de ce spectacle? Faut-il donc vous prier de - vous lever?..." - -Now to _Richard._ Richard wants to force Jenny to sign the act of -divorce and she refuses. - - "JENNY.--Mais que voulez-vous donc, alors? Expliquez-vous - clairement; car tantôt je comprends trop, et tantôt pas - assez. - - RICHARD.--Pour vous et pour moi, mieux vaut un consentement - mutuel. - - JENNY.--Vous m'avez donc crue bien lâche? Que, moi, j'aille - devant un juge, sans y être traînée par les cheveux, - déclarer de ma voix, signer de ma main que je ne suis pas - digne d'être l'épouse de sir Richard? Vous ne me connaissez - donc pas, vous qui croyez que je ne suis bonne qu'aux soins - d'un ménage dédaigné; que me croyez anéantie par l'absence; - qui pensez que je ploierai parce que vous appuierez le poing - sur ma tête; Dans le temps de mon bonheur, oui, cela aurait - pu être; mais mes larmes ont retrempé mon cœur; mes nuits - d'insomnie ont affermi mon courage? le malheur enfin m'a - fait une volonté! Ce que je suis, je vous le dois, Richard; - c'est votre faute; ne vous en prenez donc qu'a vous ... - Maintenant, voyons! à qui aura le plus de courage, du faible - ou du fort. Sir Richard, je ne veux pas! - - RICHARD.--Madame, jusqu'ici, je n'ai fait entendre que des - paroles de conciliation. - - JENNY.--Essayez d'avoir recours à d'autres! - - RICHARD, _marchant à elle._--Jenny! - - JENNY, _froidement._--Richard! - - RICHARD.--Malheureuse! savez-vous ce dont je suis capable? - - JENNY.--Je le devine. - - RICHARD.--Et vous ne tremblez pas? - - JENNY.--Voyez. - - RICHARD, _lui prenant les mains._--Femme! - - JENNY, _tombant à genoux de la secousse._--Ah!... - - RICHARD.--A genoux! - - JENNY, _les mains au ciel._--Mon Dieu, ayez pitié de lui! - (_Elle se releve._) - - RICHARD.--Ah! c'est de vous qu'il a pitié, car je m'en vais - ... Adieu, Jenny; demandez au ciel que ce soit pour toujours! - - JENNY, _courant à lui, et lui jetant les bras autour du - you._--Richard! Richard! ne t'en va pas! - - RICHARD.--Laissez-moi partir. - - JENNY.--Si tu savais comme je t'aime! - - RICHARD.--Prouvez-le-moi. - - JENNY.--Ma mère! ma mère! - - RICHARD--Voulez-vous? - - JENNY.---Tu me l'avais bien dit! - - RICHARD.--Un dernier mot. - - JENNY.--Ne le dis pas. - - RICHARD.--Consens-tu? - - JENNY.--Écoute-moi. - - RICHARD.--Consens-tu? (_Jenny se tait._) C'est bien. Mais - plus de messages, plus de lettres ... Que rien ne vous - rappelle à moi, que je ne sache même pas que vous existez! - Je vous laisse une jeunesse sans époux, une vieillesse sans - enfant. - - JENNY.--Pas d'imprécations! pas d'imprécations! - - RICHARD.--Adieu! - - JENNY.--Vous ne partirez pas! - - RICHARD.--Damnation! - - JENNY.--Vous me tuerez plutôt! - - RICHARD.--Ah! laissez-moi! (_Jenny, repoussée, va tomber la - tête sur l'angle d'un meuble._) - - JENNY.--Ah!... (_Elle se relève tout ensanglantée._) Ah! - Richard!... (_Elle chancelle en étendant les bras de son - côté, et retombe._) Il faut que je vous aime bien! (_Elle - Évanouit._) - - RICHARD.--Évanouie!... blessée!... du sang!... - Malédiction!... Jenny!... Jenny! (_Il la porte sur - un fauteuil._) Et ce sang qui ne s'arrête pas ... (_Il - l'étanche avec son mouchoir._) Je ne peux cependant pas - rester éternellement ici. (_Il se rapproche d'elle._) Jenny, - finissons ... Je me retire ... Tu ne veux pas répondre?... - Adieu donc!..." - -There remained the last act; it was composed of three scenes: the first -takes place in Richard's house in London, the second in a forest, -the third in Jenny's chamber. My reader knows the engagement I had -undertaken, to have Jenny thrown out of the window. Very well, I boldly -prepared myself to keep it, and I wrote the scene in my bed, as usual. -This is the situation: Mawbray has killed Tompson, who carried Jenny -off, and has brought her into the room where in the second act the -scene between her and her husband took place. This room has only two -doors: one leading to the stairs, the other into a cupboard, and one -window, the view from which looks deep down into a precipice. Scarcely -is Jenny left alone with her terror,--for she has no doubt that it is -her husband who has had her carried off,--than she hears and recognises -Richard's step. Not able to flee she takes refuge in the cabinet. -Richard enters. - - "RICHARD.--J'arrive à temps! À peine si je dois avoir, sur - le marquis et sa famille, une demi-heure d'avance.--James, - apportez des flambeaux, et tenez-vous à la porte pour - conduire ici les personnes qui arriveront dans un instant - ... Bien ... Allez! (_Tirant sa montre._) Huit heures! - Tompson doit être maintenant à Douvres, et, demain matin, - il sera à Calais. Dieu le conduise!... Voyons si rien - n'indique que cet appartement a été habité par une femme. - (_Apercevant le chapeau et le châle que Jenny vient de - déposer sur une chaise._) La précaution n'était pas inutile - ... Que faire de cela? Je n'ai pas la clef des armoires - ... Les jeter par la fenêtre: on les retrouvera demain ... - Ah! des lumières sur le haut de la montagne ... C'est sans - doute le marquis; il est exact ... Mais où diable mettre ces - chiffons? Ah! ce cabinet ...j'en retirerai la clef. (_Il - ouvre le cabinet._) - - JENNY.--Ah! - - RICHARD, _la saisissant par le bras._--Qui est là? - - JENNY.--Moi, moi, Richard ... Ne me faites point de mal! - - RICHARD, _l'attirant sur le théâtre_.--Jenny! mais c'est - donc un démon qui me la jette à la face toutes les fois que - je crois être débarrassé d'elle?... Que faites-vous ici? - qui vous y ramène? Parlez vite ... - - JENNY.--Mawbray! - - RICHARD.--Mawbray! toujours Mawbray! Où est-il, que je ma - venge enfin sur un homme? - - JENNY.--Il est loin ... bien loin ... reparti pour Londres - ... Grâce pour lui! - - RICHARD.--Eh bien? - - JENNY.--Il a arrêté la voiture. - - RICHARD.--Après?... Ne voyez-vous pas que je brûle? - - JENNY.--Et moi, que je ... - - RICHARD.--Après? vous dis-je? - - JENNY.--Ils se sont battus. - - RICHARD.--Et?... - - JENNY.--Et Mawbray a tué Tompson. - - RICHARD.--Enfer!... Alors, il vous a ramenée ici? - - JENNY.--Oui ... oui.. pardon! - - RICHARD.--Jenny, écoutez! - - JENNY.--C'est le roulement d'une voiture. - - RICHARD.--Cette voiture ... - - JENNY.--Eh bien? - - RICHARD.--Elle amène ma femme et sa famille. - - JENNY.--Votre femme et sa famille!... Et moi, moi, que - suis-je donc? - - RICHARD.--Vous, Jenny? vous?... Vous êtes mon mauvais - génie! vous êtes l'abîme où vont s'engloutir toutes mes - espérances! vous êtes le démon qui me pousse à l'échafaud, - car je ferai un crime! - - JENNY.--Oh! mon Dieu! - - RICHARD.--C'est qu'il n'y à plus a reculer, voyez-vous! vous - n'avez pas voulu signer le divorce, vous n'avez pas voulu - quitter l'Angleterre ... - - JENNY.--Oh! maintenant, maintenant, je veux tout ce que vous - voudrez. - - RICHARD.--Eh! maintenant, il est trop tard! - - JENNY.--Qu'allez-vous donc faire alors? - - RICHARD.--Je ne sais ... mais priez Dieu! - - JENNY.--Richard! - - RICHARD, _lui mettant la main sur la bouche._--Silence! - ne les entendez-vous pas? ne les entendez-vous pas? Ils - montent!... ils montent!... ils vont trouver une femme - ici!" - -Here I stopped short. I had gone as far as I could go. But there was -the question of keeping my promise to Goubaux. I leapt out of my bed. -It is impossible! I cried out to myself, and Goubaux said well. Richard -is to be forced to take his wife, and drag her towards the window; -she will defend herself; the public will not bear the sight of that -struggle and it will be perfectly right ... Besides, when he lifts -her up over the balcony, Richard will give the spectators a view of -his wife's legs: the spectators will laugh, which is much worse than -if they hissed ... Decidedly I am a fool. There must be some way out -of the difficulty!... But it was not easy to find means. I racked my -brains for a fortnight all in vain. Goubaux had no notion of the time -it took me to compose the third act. He wrote me letter after letter. -I did not wish to tell him the real cause of my delay; I made all -sorts of excuses: I was busy with my rehearsals; I had gone to see my -daughter at her nurse's house; I had a shooting party and all sorts -of other things;--all pretexts nearly as valid as those which Pierre -Schlemihl gave in excuse for not having a shadow. Finally, one fine -night, I woke up with a start, crying like Archimedes Ευρηκα! and in -the same costume as he, I ran, not through the streets of Syracuse, -but into the corners and recesses of my bedroom to find a tinder-box. -When the candles were lit, I got back into bed and took hold of my -pencil and manuscript, shrugging my shoulders in disgust at myself. -Good Heavens! said I, it is as simple as Christopher Columbus's egg; -only, one must break the end off! The end was broken; there was no -more difficulty, Jenny no longer would have to risk showing her ankles -and Richard would still throw his wife out of the window. Behold the -mechanism thereof! After the words: "Ils vont trouver une femme ici!" -Richard ran to the door, closed it and double-locked it. Meanwhile, -Jenny ran to the window and cried from the balcony, "Help! help!" -Richard followed her precipitately; Jenny fell on her knees. A noise -was heard on the stairs; Richard closed the two shutters of the window -on himself, shutting himself out with Jenny on the balcony. A cry was -heard. Richard, pale and wiping his brow, reopened the two shutters -with a blow of his fist; he was alone on the balcony; Jenny had -disappeared! The trick was taken. - -By eight o'clock next morning I was writing the last line of the third -act of _Richard_, and, by nine, I was with Goubaux; by ten, he had -acknowledged that the window was, indeed, Jenny's only way of exit. - - - - -BOOK IV - - - - -CHAPTER I - - - The feudal edifice and the industrial--The workmen of - Lyons--M. Bouvier-Dumolard--General Roguet--Discussion - and signing of the tariff regulating the price of the - workmanship of fabrics--The makers refuse to submit to - it--_Artificial prices_ for silk-workers--Insurrection - of Lyons--Eighteen millions on the civil list--Timon's - calculations--An unlucky saying of M. de Montalivet - - -During this time three political events of the gravest importance took -place: Lyons broke into insurrection ; the civil list was debated; the -Chamber passed the law abolishing the heredity of the peerage. We will -pass these three events in review as rapidly as possible, but we owe it -to the scheme of these Memoirs to make a note of the principal details. -It must be clear that every time the country has been in trouble we -have listened to its cry. Let us begin with Lyons. - -Everybody knows Lyons, a poor, dirty town with a canopy of smoke and a -jumble of wealth and misery, where people dare not drive through the -streets in carriages, not for fear of running over the passengers but -for fear of being insulted; where for forty thousand unfortunate human -beings the twenty-four hours of the day contain eighteen hours of work, -noise and agony. You remember Hugo's beautiful comparison in the fourth -act of _Hernani_-- - - "Un édifice avec deux hommes au sommet, - Deux chefs élus auxquels tout roi-né se soumet. - . . . . . Être ce qui commence, - Seul, debout au plus haut de la spirale immense, - D'une foule d'États l'un sur l'autre étagés - Être la clef de voûte, et voir sous soi rangés - Les rois, et sur leurs fronts essuyer ses sandales, - Voir, au-dessous des rois, les maisons féodales, - Margraves, cardinaux, doges, ducs à fleurons; - Puis évêques, abbés, chefs de clans, hauts barons; - Puis clercs et soldats; puis, loin du faite où nous sommes, - Dans l'ombre, tout au fond de l'abîme, les hommes." - -Well, in comparison with this aristocratie pyramid, crowned by _those -two halves of God, the Pope and the Emperor_, resplendent with gold -and diamonds on everyone of its stages, put the popular pyramid, by -the aid of which we are going to try to make you understand what -Lyons is like, and you will have, not an exact pendant to it but, on -the contrary, a terrible contrast. So, imagine a spiral composed of -three stages: at the top, eight hundred manufacturers; in the middle, -ten thousand foremen; at the base, supporting this immense weight -which rests entirely on them, forty thousand workmen. Then, buzzing, -gleaning, picking about this spiral like hornets round a hive, are -the commissionaires, the parasites of the manufacturers, and those -who supply raw materials to the trade. Now, the commercial mechanism -of this immense machine is easy to understand. These commissionaires -live on the manufacturers; the manufacturers live on the foremen; the -foremen live on the workpeople. Add to this the Lyonnais industry, the -only one by which these fifty to sixty thousand souls live, attacked at -all points by competition--England producing and striking a double blow -at Lyons, first because she has ceased to supply herself from there, -and, secondly, because she is producing on her own account--Zurich, -Bâle, Cologne and Berne, all setting up looms, and becoming rivals -of the second town of France. Forty years ago, when the continental -system of 1810 compelled the whole of France to supply itself from -Lyons, the workman earned from four to six francs a day. Then he could -easily provide for his wife and the numerous family which nearly always -results from the improvidence of the working-man. But, since the fall -of the Empire, for the past seventeen years wages have been on the -decline, from four francs to forty sous, then to thirty-five, then to -thirty, then to twenty-five. Finally, at the time we have now reached, -the ordinary weaving operative only earns eighteen sous per day for -eighteen hours work. One son per hour!... It is a starvation wage. - -The unfortunate workmen struggled in silence for a long time, trying, -as each quarter came round, to move into smaller rooms, to more noxious -quarters; trying, day by day, to economise something in the shape of -their meals and those of their children. But, at last, when they came -face to face with the deadening effect of bad air and of starvation -for want of bread, there went up from the Croix-Rousse,--appropriate -names, are they not?--that is to say, from the working portion of the -city--a great sob, like that which Dante heard when he was passing -through the first circle of the Inferno. It was the cry of one hundred -thousand sufferers. Two men were in command at Lyons, one representing -the civil power, the other the military: a préfet and a general. The -préfet was called Bouvier-Dumolard; the general's name was Roguet. The -first, in his administrative capacity, came in contact with all classes -of society, and was able to study that dark and profound misery; a -misery, all the more terrible, because no remedy could be found for -it, and because it went on increasing every day. As for the general, -since he knew his soldiers had five sous per day, and that each of them -had a ration sufficiently ample for a _canut_ (silk-weaver) to feed -his wife and children upon, he never troubled his head about anything -else. The cry of misery of the poor famished creatures therefore -affected the general and the préfet very differently. They made -their separate inquiries as to the cause of this cry of misery. The -workpeople demanded a tariff. General Roguet called a business meeting -and demanded repressive measures. M. Bouvier-Dumolard, on the contrary, -seeing the tradespeople in council, asked them for an increase of -salary. On 11 October this council issued the following minute:-- - - "As it is a matter of public notoriety that many of the - manufacturers actually pay for their fabrics at too low a - rate, it is advisable that _a minimum_ tariff be fixed for - the price of fabrics." - -Consequently, a meeting was held at the Hôtel de la Préfecture on 15 -October. The tariff was discussed on both sides by twenty-two workmen -appointed by their comrades, and twenty-two manufacturers who were -appointed by the Chamber of Commerce. - -That measure, presuming that it needed a precedent before it could be -legalised, had been authorised in 1789, by the Constituent Assembly, -in 1793 by the Convention and, finally, in 1811 by the Empire. Nothing -was settled at the first meeting. On 21 October a new assembly was -convoked at the same place, and with the same object. The manufacturers -were less pressing than the workmen: that is conceivable enough: they -have to give and the workmen to receive; they have to lose and the -workmen to gain. The manufacturers said that having been officially -appointed they could not bind their confrères. A third meeting was -arranged to give them time to obtain a power of attorney. Meanwhile -workpeople died of hunger. This meeting was fixed for 25 October. The -life or death of forty thousand operatives, that of their fathers and -mothers, their wives and their children, the very existence of over one -hundred thousand persons was to be discussed at that sitting. So, the -unusual, lamentable and fearful spectacle was to be seen, at ten in the -morning, of this unfortunate people waiting outside in the place de la -Préfecture to hear their sentence. But there was not a single weapon -to be seen among those thousands of supplicants! A weapon would have -prevented them from joining their hands together, and they only wanted -to pray. - -The préfet, terrified by that multitude, terrified of its very silence, -came forward. Amongst all that sixty to eighty thousand persons of all -ages and of both sexes, there were nearly thirty thousand men. - -"My good people," said the préfet to them, "I beg you to withdraw--it -will be to your own interests to do so. If you stay there the tariff -will seem to have been imposed by your presence. Now, in order to be -valid, the deliberations must be doubly free: free in reality and free -in appearance." - -All these famished voices with laboured breathings summoned strength to -shout, "Vive le préfet!" Then they humbly retired without complaint or -comment. - -The tariff was signed: the result was an increase of twenty-five per -cent--not quite five sous per day. But five sous per day meant the -lives of two children. So there was great joy throughout that poor -multitude: the workmen illuminated their windows, and sang and danced -far into the night. Their joy was very innocent, but the manufacturers -thought the songs were songs of triumph and the Carmagnole dances -meant a second '93. And they were made the means of refusing the -tariff. A week had not gone before there were ten or a dozen refusals -to carry it out. The Trades Council censured those who refused. The -manufacturers met and decided that instead of a partial refusal they -would all protest. And so a hundred and four manufacturers protested, -declaring that they did not think themselves compelled to come to the -assistance of men who were bolstered up by _artificial prices_ (_des -besoins factices_). _Artificial prices_, at eighteen sous per day! what -sybarites! The préfet, who was a goodhearted fellow but vacillating, -drew back before that protest. The Trades Council in turn drew back -when they saw that the préfet had given way. Both Trades Council and -préfet declared that the tariff was not at all obligatory, and that -those of the manufacturers who wished to avoid the increase of wage -imposed had the right to do it. Six to seven hundred, out of the -eight hundred manufacturers, took advantage of the permission. The -unfortunate weavers then decided to go on strike for a week, during -which time they walked the town as unarmed suppliants, making no -demonstration beyond affectionate and grateful salutations to those -of the manufacturers who were more humane than the others and had -observed the tariff. This humble attitude only hardened the hearts of -the manufacturers: one of them received a deputation of workmen with -pistols on his table; another, when the wretched men said to him, "For -two days we have not had a morsel of bread in our stomachs," replied, -"--Well then, we must thrust bayonets into them!" General Roguet, also, -who was ill and, consequently, in a bad temper, placarded the Riot Act. -The préfet realised all the evils that would accrue from putting such -a measure into force, and went to General Roguet to try to get him to -withdraw it. General Roguet declined to receive him. There are strange -cases of blindness, and military leaders are especially liable to such -fits. - -Thirty thousand workpeople--unarmed, it is true, but one knows how -rapidly thirty thousand men can arm themselves--were moving about -the streets of Lyons; General Roguet had under his command only the -66th regiment of the line, three squadrons of dragoons, one battalion -of the 13th and some companies of engineers: barely three thousand -soldiers in all. He persisted in his policy of provocation. It was 19 -November; the general, under the pretext of a reception for General -Ordomont, commanded a review on the place Bellecour to be held on -the following day. It was difficult not to see an underlying menace -in that order. Unfortunately, those threatened had begun to come to -the end of their patience. What one of their number had said was no -poetic metaphor--many had not tasted food for forty-eight hours. Two -or three more days of patience on the part of the military authority, -and they need have had no more fear: the people would be dead. On -21 November--it was a Monday--four hundred silk-workers gathered at -the Croix-Rousse. They proceeded to march, headed by their syndics, -and with no other arms but sticks. They realised things had come to -a crisis and they resolved to go from workshop to workshop, and to -persuade their comrades to come out on strike with them until the -tariff should be adopted in a serious and definitive manner. Suddenly, -as they turned the corner of a street, they found themselves face to -face with sixty or so of the National Guard on patrol. An officer, -carried away by a war-like impulse, shouted when he saw them, "Lads, -let us sweep away all that _canaille._" And, drawing his sword, he -sprang upon the workmen, the sixty National Guards following him with -fixed bayonets. Twenty-five of the sixty National Guards were disarmed -in a trice; the rest took to flight. Then, satisfied with their -first victory, without changing the wholly peaceful nature of their -demonstration, the workmen took each other's arms again and, marching -four abreast, began to descend what is known as la Grante-Côte. But the -fugitives had given the alarm. A column of the National Guard of the -first legion, entirely composed of manufacturers, took up arms in hot -haste, and advanced resolutely to encounter the workmen. These were two -clouds, charged with electricity, hurled against each other by contrary -currents and the collision meant lightning. - -The column of the National Guard fired; eight workmen fell. After that, -it was a species of extermination--blood had flowed. At Paris, in 1830, -the people had fought for an idea, and they had fought well; at Lyons, -in 1831, they were going to fight for bread and they would fight better -still. A terrible, formidable, great cry went up throughout the whole -of the labour quarter of the city: To arms! They are murdering our -brothers! - -Then anger set that vast hive buzzing which hunger had turned dumb. -Each household turned into the streets every man that it contained old -enough to fight; all had arms of one sort or another: one had a stick, -another a fork, some had guns. In the twinkling of an eye barricades -were constructed by the women and children; a group of insurgents, -amidst loud cheers, carried off two pieces of cannon belonging to the -National Guard of the Croix-Rousse; the National Guard not only let the -cannon be taken but actually offered them. If it did not pursue the -operatives into their intrenchments it would remain neutral; but if the -barricades were attacked it would defend them with guns and cartridge. -Next evening, forty thousand men were armed ready, hugging the banners -which bore these words, the most ominous, probably, ever traced by the -bloody hand of civil war-- - - VIVRE EN TRAVAILLANT - OU - MOURIR EN COMBATTANT! - -They killed each other through the whole of the night of the 21st, -and the whole day of the 22nd. Oh! how fiercely do compatriots, -fellow-citizens and brothers kill one another! Fifty years hence civil -war will be the only warfare possible. By seven o'clock at night all -was over, and the troops beat a retreat before the people, vanquished -at every point. At midnight, General Roguet, lifted up bodily on -horseback, where he shook with fever, left the town, which he found -impossible to hold any longer. He withdrew by way of the faubourg -Saint-Clair, under a canopy of fire, through a hail of bullets. The -smell of powder revived the strength of the old soldier: he sat up on -his horse, and rose in his stirrups-- - -"Ah!" he said, "now I can breathe once more! I feel better here than in -the Hôtel de Ville drawing-rooms." - -Meantime, the people were knocking at the doors of that same Hôtel de -Ville which the préfet and members of the municipality had abandoned. -When at the Hôtel de Ville, that palace of the people, the people felt -they were the masters. But they scarcely realised this before they -were afraid of their power. This power was deputed to eight persons: -Lachapelle, Frédéric, Charpentier, Perenon, Rosset, Garnier, Dervieux -and Filliol. The three first were workmen whose only thought was to -maintain the tariff; the five others were Republicans who thought of -political questions and not merely of pecuniary. The next day after -that on which the eight delegates of the people had established a -provisional administration, the provisional administrators were at the -point of killing one another. Some wanted boldly to follow the path of -insurrection; others wanted to join the party of civil authority. The -latter carried the day, and M. Bouvier-Dumolard was reinstalled. On 3 -December, at noon, the Prince Royal and Maréchal Soult took possession -once more of the second capital of the kingdom, and re-entered with -drums beating and torches lit. The workpeople were disarmed and fell -back to confront their necessities and the _besoins factices_ they had -created, at eighteen sous per diem. The National Guard was disbanded -and the town placed in a state of siege. M. Bouvier-Dumolard was -dismissed. - -What was the king doing during this time? His ministers, at his -dictation, were preparing a minute in which he asked the Chamber for -eighteen million francs for the civil list, fifteen hundred thousand -francs per month, fifty thousand francs per day; without reckoning his -private income of five millions, and two or three millions in dividends -from special investments. - -M. Laffitte had already, a year before, submitted to the committee of -the Budget a minute proposing to fix the king's civil list at eighteen -million francs. The committee had read the minute, and this degree of -justice should be given to it: it had been afraid to bring it forward. -Even that minute had left a very bad impression, so disturbing, that -it had been agreed between the minister and the king, that the king -should write a confidential letter to the minister, saying he had -never thought of so high a sum as eighteen millions, and that the -demand should be attributed to too hasty courtiers, whose devotion -compromised the royal power they thought to serve. That confidential -letter had been shown in confidence and had produced an excellent -effect. But when it was learnt at court that the revolt at Lyons was -not political, and that the _canuts_ were only rising because they -could not live on eighteen sous per twenty-four hours, it was deemed -that the right moment had come to give the king his fifty thousand -francs per day. They asked for one single man that which, a hundred and -twenty leagues away, was sufficient to keep fifty-four thousand men. It -was thirty-seven times more than Bonaparte had asked as First Consul, -and a hundred and forty-eight times more than the President of the -United States handled. The time was all the more ill chosen in that, on -1 January 1832,--we are anticipating events by three months,--the Board -of Charity of the 12th Arrondissement published the following circular-- - - "Twenty-four thousand persons are inscribed on the registers - of the 12th Arrondissement of Paris as in need of food and - clothing. Many are asking for a few trusses of straw on - which to sleep." - -True, the request for eighteen millions of Civil List were stated to -be for royal necessities,--people's necessities differ. Thus, whilst -five or six thousand wretched people of the 12th Arrondissement were -asking for a few trusses of straw on which to sleep, the king _was in -need of_ forty-eight thousand francs for the medicaments necessary to -his health; the king _was in need of_ three million seven hundred and -seventy-three thousand five hundred francs for his personal service; -the king _was in need of_ a million two hundred thousand francs to -provide fuel for the kitchen fires of the royal household. - -It must be admitted that these were a fair number of remedies for a -king whose health had become proverbial, and who knew enough about -medicine to pass a doctor's degree, in his ordinary indispositions; it -was a great luxury for a king who had suppressed the offices of chief -equerry, master of the hounds, master of ceremonies and all the great -state expenses, and who had set forth the programme, new to France, -of a small court half-bourgeois and half-military; also it was a good -deal of wood and coal to allow a king who possessed the finest forests -in the state, either by right of inheritance or as appanage. True, -it was calculated that the sale of wood annually made by the king, -which would be sufficient to warm a tenth part of France, was not -sufficient to warm the underground kitchen fires of the Palais-Royal. -People calculated differently. It was the time of calculations. There -was, at that period, a great calculator, since dead, called Timon the -misanthrope. Ah! if only he were still alive!... He reckoned that -eighteen millions of Civil List amounted to the fiftieth part of -the Budget of France; the contribution of three of our most densely -populated departments,--Seine, Seine-Inférieure and Nord; the land -tax paid to the state by eighteen other departments; four times -more than flowed into the state coffers from Calais, Boulonnais, -Artois and their six hundred and forty thousand inhabitants, by way -of contributions of every kind in a year; three times more than the -salt tax brought in; twice more than the government winnings from -its lottery; half what the monopoly of the sale of tobacco produced; -half what is annually granted for the upkeep of our bridges, roads, -harbours and canals--an expenditure which gives work to over fifteen -thousand persons; nine times more than the whole budget for public -education, including its support, subsidies, national scholarships; -double the cost of the foreign office, which pays thirty ambassadors -and ministers-plenipotentiary, fifty secretaries to the embassies -and legations, one hundred and fifty consuls-general, consuls, -vice-consuls, dragomans and consular agents; ninety head clerks and -office clerks, under-clerks, employees, copyists, translators and -servants; the pay of an army of fifty-five thousand men, officers -of all ranks, noncommissioned officers, corporals and soldiers, a -third more than the cost of the whole staff of the administration of -justice;--note that in saying that justice is paid for, we do not -mean to say that it ought to be given up. In short, a sum sufficient -to provide work for a whole year to sixty-one thousand six hundred -and forty-three workmen belonging to the country!... Although the -bourgeoisie were so enthusiastic over their king, this calculation none -the less made them reflect. - -Then, as if it seemed that every misfortune were to be piled up because -of that fatal Civil List of 1832, M. de Montalivet must needs take upon -himself to find good reasons for making the contributors support the -Budget by saying in the open Chamber-- - -"If luxury is banished from the king's palace, it will soon be banished -from the homes of his _subjects!_" - -At these words there was a prompt and loud explosion, as though the -powder magazine at Grenelle had been set on fire. - -"Men who make kings are not the subjects of the kings they create!" -exclaims M. Marchal. - -"There are no more subjects in France." - -"There is a king, nevertheless," insinuates M. Dupin, who held a salary -direct from that king. - -"There are no more subjects," repeats M. Leclerc-Lasalle. "Order! -order! order!" - -"I do not understand the importance of the interruption," replies M. de -Montalivet. - -"It is an insult to the chamber," cries M. Labôissière. - -"Order! order! order!" The president rings his bell.--"Order!! order!! -order!!" - -The president puts his hat on. "Order!!! order!!! order!!!" - -The president breaks up the sitting. The deputies go out, crying -"Order! order! order!" - -The whole thing was more serious than one would have supposed at the -first glance: it was a slur on the bourgeois reputation which had made -Louis-Philippe King of France. On the same day, under the presidency -of Odilon Barrot, a hundred and sixty-seven members of the Chamber -signed a protest against the word _subject._ The Civil List was reduced -to fourteen millions. A settlement was made on the queen in case of -the decease of the king; an annual allowance of a million francs was -granted to M. le duc d'Orléans. This was a triumph, but a humiliating -triumph; the debates of the Chamber upon the word _subject_, M. de -Cor's letters--Heavens! what were we going to do? We were confusing -Timon the misanthrope with M. de Cormenin!--the letters of Timon, -Dupont (de l'Eure's) condemnation, the jests of the Republican papers, -all these had in an important degree taken the place of the voice of -the slave of old who cried behind the triumphant emperors, "Cæsar, -remember that thou art mortal!" At the same time a voice cried, -"Peerage, remember that thou art mortal!" It was the voice of the -_Moniteur_ proclaiming the abolition of heredity in the peerage. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - - Death of _Mirabeau_--The accessories of _Charles VII._--A - shooting party--Montereau--A temptation I cannot - resist--Critical position in which my shooting companions - and I find ourselves--We introduce ourselves into an empty - house by breaking into it at night--Inspection of the - premises--Improvised supper--As one makes one's bed, so - one lies on it--I go to see the dawn rise--Fowl and duck - shooting--Preparations for breakfast--Mother Galop - - -It will be seen the times were not at all encouraging for literature. -But there was through that highly strung period such a vital -turgescence that enough force remained in the youth of the day, who had -just been making a political disturbance on the boulevard Saint-Denis -or the place Vendôme, to create a literary disturbance at the Théâtre -Porte-Saint-Martin or the Odéon. I think I have said that _Mirabeau_ -had been played, and had passed like a shadow without even being -able, when dying, to bequeathe the name of its author to the public: -the company of the Odéon, therefore, was entirely at the disposal of -_Charles VII._ - -Whether Harel had returned to my opinion, that the play would not make -money, or whether he had a fit of niggardliness, a rare happening, I -must confess, when Mademoiselle Georges was taking part in a play, he -would not risk any expense, not even to the extent of the stag that -kills Raymond in the first act, not even for the armour which clothes -Charles VII. in the fourth. The result was that I was obliged to go to -Raincy myself to kill a stag, and to get it stuffed at my own expense; -then I had to go and borrow a complete set of armour from the Artillery -Museum, which they obligingly lent me in remembrance of the service -that I had rendered their establishment on 29 July 1830, by saving a -portion of the armour of Francis I. However, the rehearsals proceeded -with such energy that, on 5 September, the opening day of the shooting -season having arrived, I had no hesitation about leaving _Charles VII._ -to the strength of the impetus that I had given it, and, as M. Étienne -would say, I went to woo Diana at the expense of the Muses. True, our -Muses, if the illustrious Academician is to be believed, were but sorry -ones! - -I had decided to undertake this cynegetic jollification because of -an unlimited permission from Bixio. That permission had been given -to us by our common friend Dupont-Delporte, who, by virtue of our -discretionary powers, we had just made sub-lieutenant in the army, -together with a delightful lad called Vaillant, who, with Louis -Desnoyers, managed a paper called the _Journal Rose_, and also the son -of Mademoiselle Duchesnois, who, I believe, died bravely in Algeria. -As to Vaillant, I know not what became of him, or whether he followed -up his military career; but, if he be still living, no matter where -he may be, I offer him greeting, although a quarter of a century -has rolled by. Now this permission was indeed calculated to tempt a -sportsman. Dupont-Delporte introduced us to his father, and begged him -to place his château and estates at our disposition. The château was -situated three-quarters of a league from Montigny, a little village -which itself was three leagues from Montereau. We left by diligence at -six o'clock on the morning of 4 September, and we reached Montereau -about four in the afternoon. I was not yet acquainted with Montereau, -doubly interesting, historically, by reason of the assassination of the -Duke of Burgundy Jean Sans-Peur, and from the victory which, in the -desperate struggle of 1814, Napoléon won there over the Austrians and -the Würtemburgers. Our caravan was made up of Viardot, author of the -_Histoire des Arabes en Espagne_, and, later, husband of that adorable -and all round actress called Pauline Garcia; of Bessas-Lamégie, then -deputy-mayor of the 10th arrondissement; of Bixio, and of Louis -Boulanger. Whilst Bixio, who knew the town, went in search of a -carriage to take us to Montigny, Boulanger, Bessas-Lamégie, Viardot and -I set to work to turn over the two important pages of history embedded -in the little town, written four centuries ago. The position of the -bridge perfectly explained the scene of the assassination of the Duke -of Burgundy. Boulanger drew for me on the spot a rough sketch, which -served me later in my romance of _Isabeau de Bavière_, and in my legend -of the _Sire de Giac._ Then we went to see the sword of the terrible -duke, which hung in the crypt of the church. If one formed an idea of -the man by the sword one would be greatly deceived: imagine the ball -swords of Francis II. or of Henri III.! When we had visited the church -we had finished with the memories of 1417, and we passed on to those of -1814. We rapidly climbed the ascent of Surville, and found ourselves -on the plateau where Napoléon, once more an artilleryman, thundered, -with pieces of cannon directed by himself, against the Würtemburgers -fighting in the town. It was there that, in getting off his horse and -whipping his boot with his horse-whip, he uttered this remarkable -sentence, an appeal from Imperial doubt to Republican genius-- - - "Come, Bonaparte, let us save Napoléon!" - -Napoléon was victor, but was not saved: the modern Sisyphus had the -rock of the whole of Europe incessantly falling back upon him. - -It was five o'clock. We had three long leagues of country to cover; -three leagues of country, no matter in what department, were it even in -that of Seine-et-Marne, always means five leagues of posting. Now, five -leagues of posting in a country stage-waggon is at least a four hours' -journey. We should only arrive at M. Dupont-Delporte's house, whom not -one of us knew, at nine or half-past nine at night. Was he a loving -enough father to forgive us such an invasion, planting ourselves on him -at unawares? Bixio replied that, with the son's letter, we were sure -to be made welcome by the father, no matter at what hour of the day or -night we knocked at his door. - -We started in that belief, ourselves and our dogs all heaped together -in the famous stage-waggon in question, which very soon gave us a -sample of its powers by taking an hour and a quarter to drive the first -league. We were just entering upon the second when, in passing by a -field of lucerne, I was seized with the temptation to go into it with -the dog of one of my fellow-sportsmen. I do not know by what misfortune -I had not my own. My companions sang out to me that shooting had not -yet begun; but my sole reply was that that was but one reason more -for finding game there. And I added that, if I succeeded in killing a -brace of partridges or a hare, it would add some sauce to the supper -which M. Dupont-Delporte would be obliged to give us. This argument -won over my companions. The waggon was stopped; I took Viardot's dog -and entered the field of lucerne. If any sort of gamekeeper appeared, -the waggon was to proceed on its way, and I undertook to outdistance -the above-mentioned gamekeeper. Those who knew my style of walking had -no uneasiness on this score. The journey I made there and back from -Crépy to Paris, shooting by the way with my friend Paillet, will be -recalled to mind. Scarcely had I taken twenty steps in the field of -lucerne before a great leveret, three-quarters face, started under the -dog's nose. It goes without saying that that leveret was killed. As no -gamekeeper had appeared on the scene at the noise of my firing, I took -my leveret by its hind legs and quietly remounted the stage-waggon. -What a fine thing is success! Everybody congratulated me, even the most -timorous. Three-quarters of a league farther on was a second field of -lucerne. A fresh temptation, fresh argument, and fresh yielding. At the -very entrance into the field the dog came across game, and stopped, -pointing. A covey of a dozen or so of partridges started up; I fired -my first shot into the very middle of the covey: two fell, and a third -fell down at my second shot. This would make us a roast which, if not -quite sufficient, would at least be presentable. Again I climbed into -the coach in the midst of the cheering of the travellers. You will see -directly that these details, trivial as they may appear at the first -glance, are not without their importance. I had a good mind to continue -a hunt which seemed like becoming the parallel to the miraculous -draught of fishes; but night was falling, and compelled me to content -myself with my leveret and three partridges. We drove on for another -couple of hours, until we found ourselves opposite a perfectly black -mass. This was the château of M. Dupont-Delporte. - -"Ah!" said the driver, "here we are." - -"What, have we arrived?" - -"Yes." - -"Is this the château d'Esgligny?" - -"That is the château d'Esgligny." - -We looked at one another. - -"But everybody is asleep," said Bessas. - -"We will create a revolution," added Viardot. - -"Messieurs," suggested Boulanger, "I think we should do well to sleep -in the carriage, and only present ourselves to-morrow morning." - -"Why! M. Dupont-Delporte would never forgive us," said Bixio, and, -jumping down from the carriage, he resolutely advanced towards the door -and rang. - -Meanwhile the driver, who was paid in advance, and who had shuddered -at Boulanger's suggestion of using his stage-waggon for a tent, -quietly turned his horse's head towards Montigny, and suddenly -departed at a trot which proved that his horse felt much relieved at -getting rid of his load. For a moment we thought of stopping him, but -before the debate that began upon this question was ended, driver, -horse and vehicle had disappeared in the darkness. Our boats were -burned behind us! The situation became all the more precarious in -that Bixio had rung, knocked, flung stones at the door, all in vain, -for nobody answered. A terrifying idea began to pass through our -minds: the château, instead of containing sleeping people, seemed to -contain nobody at all. This was a melancholy prospect for travellers -not one of whom knew the country, and all of whom had the appetites -of ship-wrecked men. Bixio ceased ringing, ceased knocking, ceased -throwing stones; the assault had lasted a quarter of an hour, and had -not produced any effect: it was evident that the château was deserted. -We put our heads together in council, and each advanced his own view. -Bixio persisted in his of entering, even if it meant scaling the walls; -he answered for M. Dupont-Delporte's approval of everything he did. - -"Look here," I said to him, "will you take the responsibility on -yourself?" - -"Entirely." - -"Will you guarantee us, if not judicial impunity, at all events civil -absolution?" - -"Yes." - -"Very well; will somebody light a bit of paper to give me light?" - -A smoker (alas! from about that period there were smokers to be found -everywhere) drew a match--box from his pocket, twisted up half a -newspaper, and lighted me with his improvised beacon. In a trice I -had pulled off the lock, by the help of my screw--driver. The door -opened by itself when the lock was off. We found ourselves inside the -park. Before going farther we thought we ought to put back the lock -in its place. Then, feeling our way through the tortuous walks, we -attained the main entrance. By chance the emigrants, probably counting -on the first door to be a sufficient obstacle, had not shut that of -the château. So we entered the château and wandered about among the -salons, bedrooms and kitchens. Everywhere we found traces of a hasty -departure, and that it had been incomplete owing to the haste with -which it had been undertaken. In the kitchen the turnspit was in -position, and there were two or three saucepans and a stove. In the -dining-room were a dozen chairs and a table; eighteen mattresses were -in the linen-room; and, in the cupboard of one room thirty pots of -jam! Each fresh discovery led to shouts of joy equal to those uttered -by Robinson Crusoe on his various visits to the wrecked vessel. -We had the wherewithal to cook a meal, to sit down and to sleep; -furthermore, there were thirty pots of jam for our dessert. It is -true we had nothing for our supper. But at that moment I drew my hare -and the partridges from my pocket, announcing that I was prepared to -skin the hare if the others would pluck the partridges. When hare and -partridges were skinned and plucked I undertook to put them all in the -spit. We only wanted bread. Here Boulanger came on the scene with a -shout of joy. In order to draw the view of the bridge of Montereau, or, -rather, in order to rub out the incorrect lines in his sketch, he had -sent an urchin to fetch some crumbly bread. The lad had brought him a -two-pound loaf. The loaf had been stuffed into someone or other's game -bag. We searched all the game bags, and the loaf of bread was found in -Bessas-Lamégie's bag. At this sight we all echoed Boulanger's shout of -joy. The two pounds of bread were placed under an honourable embargo; -but, for greater security, Bixio put in his pocket the key of the -sideboard in which the bread was enclosed. After this I began to skin -my hare, and my scullion-knaves began to pluck the partridges. - -Bessas-Lamégie, who had announced that he had no culinary proclivities, -was sent with a lantern to find any available kind of fuel. He brought -back two logs, stating that the wood-house was abundantly stocked, and -that consequently we need not be afraid of making a good fire. The -hearth-place flamed with joy after this assurance. In a kitchen table -drawer we found a few old iron forks. We were not so particular as to -insist upon silver ones. The table was laid as daintily as possible. We -each had our knife, and, what was more, a flask full of wine or brandy -or kirsch. I, who drink but little wine and am not fond of either -brandy or kirsch, had gooseberry syrup. I was therefore the only one -who could not contribute to the general stock of beverages; but they -forgave me in virtue of the talents I showed as cook. They saw clearly -that I was a man of resource, and they praised my adroitness in killing -the game and my skill in roasting it. It was nearly one in the morning -when we lay down in our clothes on the mattresses. The Spartans took -only one mattress; the Sybarites took two. I was the first to wake, -when it was scarcely daylight. In the few moments that elapsed between -the extinction of the light and the coming of sleep I had reflected -about the future, and promised myself as soon as I waked to look -about for a village or hamlet where we could supply ourselves with -provisions. Therefore, like Lady Malbrouck, I climbed up as high as I -could get, not, however, to a tower, but to the attics. A belfry tower -was just visible in the distance, through the trees, probably belonging -to the village of Montigny. The distance at which it was situated -inspired me with extremely sad reflections, but just then, dropping my -eyes, melancholy-wise towards the earth, I saw a fowl picking about in -a pathway; then, in another path, another fowl; then a duck dabbling -in a kind of pond. It was evident that this was the rear-guard of a -poultry yard which had escaped death by some intelligent subterfuge. -I went downstairs into the kitchen, got my gun, put two charges of -cartridges in my pocket, and ran out into the garden. Three shots gave -me possession of the duck and fowls, and we had food for breakfast. -Furthermore, we would dispatch two of our party to a village for -eggs and bread, wine and butter. At the sound of my three shots the -windows opened, and I saw a row of heads appear which looked like -so many notes of interrogation. I showed my two fowls in one hand -and my duck in the other. The result was immediate. At the sight of -my simple gesture shouts of admiration rose from the spectators. At -supper the night before, we had had roast meats; at breakfast, we were -going to have both roast and stew. I thought I would stew the duck -with turnips, as it seemed of a ripe age. Enthusiasm produces great -devotion: when I suggested drawing lots as to who should go to the -village of Montigny to find butter, eggs, bread and wine, two men of -goodwill volunteered from the ranks. These were Boulanger and Bixio, -who, not being either shooters or cooks, desired to make themselves -useful to society according to their limited means. Their services -were accepted; an old basket was discovered, the bottom of which was -made strong with twine! Bixio set the example of humility by taking -the empty basket,--Boulanger undertook to carry back the full basket. -I set the rest of my people to work to pluck the fowls and the duck, -and I undertook a voyage of discovery. It was impossible that a château -so well provisioned, even in the absence of its owners, should not -include among its appurtenances an orchard and a kitchen-garden. It was -necessary to discover both. I was without a compass, but, by the aid of -the rising sun, I could make out the south from the north. Therefore -the orchard and the kitchen-garden would, naturally, be situated to -the south of the park. When I had gone about a hundred yards I was -walking about among quantities of fruit and vegetables. I had but to -make my choice. Carrots and turnips and salads for vegetables--pears, -apples, currants for fruit. I returned loaded with a double harvest. -Bessas-Lamégie, who saw me coming from afar, took me for Vertumnus, the -god of gardens. Ten minutes later the god of gardens had made room for -the god of cooking. An apron found by Viardot round my body, a paper -cap constructed by Bessas on my head, I looked like Cornus or Vatel. I -possessed a great advantage over the latter in that, not expecting any -fish, I did not inflict on myself the punishment of severing my carotid -artery because the fishmonger was late. To conclude, my scullion lads -had not lost anytime; the fowls and the duck were plucked, and a -brazier of Homeric proportions blazed in the fireplace. - -Suddenly, just at the moment when I was spitting my two fowls, loud -cries were heard in the courtyard, then in the ante-chamber, then on the -stairs, and a furious old woman, bonnet-less and thoroughly scared, ran -into the kitchen. It was Mother Galop. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - - Who Mother Galop was--Why M. Dupont-Delporte was absent--How - I quarrelled with Viardot--Rabelais's quarter of an - hour--Providence No. 1.--The punishment of Tantalus--A - waiter who had not read Socrates--Providence No. 2--A - breakfast for four--Return to Paris - - -Mother Galop was M. Dupont-Delporte's kitchen-maid; she was specially -employed to go errands between the château and the village, and they -called her Mother Galop because of the proverbial rapidity with which -she accomplished this kind of commission. I never knew her other name, -and never had the curiosity to inquire what it was. Mother Galop had -seen a column of smoke coming out of the chimney in comparison with -which the column that led the children of Israel in the desert was -but as a vapour, and she had come at a run, never doubting that her -master's château was invaded by a band of incendiaries. Great was her -astonishment when she saw a cook and two or three kitchen-lads spitting -and plucking chickens. She naturally asked us who we were and what we -were doing in _her kitchen._ We replied that M. Dupont-Delporte's son, -being on the eve of marrying, and intending to celebrate his nuptials -at the château, had sent us on in advance to take possession of the -culinary departments. She could believe what she liked of the story; my -opinion is that she did not believe very much of it; but what did that -matter to us? She was not able to prevent us; we could, indeed, have -shown her Dupont-Delporte's letter, but two reasons prevented us from -doing so. In the first place, because Bixio had it in his pocket and -had carried it off to the market; secondly, because Mother Galop did -not know how to read! We in our turn interrogated Mother Galop, with -all the tact of which we were capable, concerning the absence of all -the family, and the desertion of the château. - -M. Dupont-Delporte, senior, had been appointed préfet of -Seine-Inférieure, and he had moved house rapidly a week ago, leaving -his château and what remained therein under the surveillance of -Mother Galop. As has been seen, Mother Galop fulfilled her orders -scrupulously. The arrival of Mother Galop had its good side as well -as its bad: it was a censorship; but, at the same time, it meant a -housekeeper for us. The upshot of it was that, in consideration of -a five-franc piece which was generously granted her by myself, we -had both plates and serviettes at our dejeuner. Bixio and Boulanger -arrived as the fowls were accomplishing their final turn on the spit, -and as Mother Galop was serving up the stewed duck. An omelette of -twenty-four eggs completed the meal. Then, admirably fortified, we set -off on our shooting expedition. We had not fired four shots before -we saw the gamekeeper running up in hot haste. This was just what we -hoped would happen; he could read: he accepted our sub-lieutenant's -letter as bona-fide, undertook to take us all over the estate, and to -reassure Mother Galop, whom our metamorphoses from cooks to sportsmen -had inspired with various fresh fears in addition to those which had -troubled her at first, and which had never been entirely allayed. A -sportsman minus a dog (it will be recollected that this was my social -position) is a very disagreeable being, seeing that, if he wants to -kill anything, he must be a Pollux or a Pylades or a Pythias to some -shooter who has a dog. I began by giving the dubious advantage of my -proximity to Bessas-Lamégie, the shooting companion with whom I was the -most intimately connected. Unluckily, Bessas had a new dog which was -making its first début, and which was in its first season. Generally, -dogs--ordinary ones at least--hunt with their noses down and their -tails in the air. Bessas's dog had adopted the opposite system. The -result was that he looked as though he had come from between the legs -of a riding-master, and not from the hands of a keeper; to such an -extent that, at the end of an hour's time, I advised Bessas to saddle -his dog or harness him, but not to shoot with him any more. Viardot, -on the other hand, had a delightful little bitch who pointed under the -muzzle of the gun, standing like a stock and returning at the first -call of the whistle. I abandoned Bessas and began to play with Viardot, -whom I knew least, the scene between Don Juan and M. Dimanche! In the -very middle of the scene a covey of partridges started up. Viardot -fired two shots after them and killed one. I did the same; only, I -killed two. We continued to shoot and to kill in this proportion. But -soon I made a mistake. A hare started in front of Viardot's dog. I -ought to have given him time to fire his two shots, and not to have -fired until he had missed. I drew first and the hare rolled over before -Viardot had had time to put his gun to his shoulder. Viardot looked -askance at me; and with good reason. We entered a field of clover. -I fired my two shots at a couple of partridges, both of which fell -disabled. The services of a dog were absolutely necessary. I called -Viardot's; but Viardot also called her, and Diane, like a well-trained -animal, followed her master and took no notice of me and my two -partridges. No one is so ready to risk his soul being sent to perdition -as a sportsman who loses a head of game: with still greater reason -when he loses two. I called the dog belonging to Bessas-Lamégie, and -Romeo came; that was his name, and no doubt it was given him because -he held his head up, searching for his Juliet on every balcony. Romeo -then came, pawed, pranced about and jumped, but did not deign for an -instant to trouble himself about my two partridges. I swore by all the -saints of Paradise,--my two partridges were lost, and I had fallen -out with Viardot! Viardot, indeed, left us next day, pretending he -had an appointment to keep in Paris which he had forgotten. I have -never had the chance of making it up with him since that day, and -twenty years have now passed by. Therefore, as he is a charming person -with whom I do not wish any longer to remain estranged, I here tender -him my very humble apologies and my very sincere regards. Next day -it was Bessas who left us. He had no need to search for an excuse; -his dog provided him with a most plausible one. I again advised him -to have Romeo trained for the next steeple-chase, and to bet on him -at Croix-de-Berny, but to renounce working him as a shooting dog. I -do not know if he took my advice. I remained the only shooter, and -consequently the only purveyor to the party, which did me the justice -to say that, if they ran any risk of dying of hunger, it would not be -at the château d'Esgligny. But it was at Montereau that this misfortune -nearly happened to us all. We had settled up our accounts with Mother -Galop; we had liquidated our debt with the gamekeeper; we had paid -the peasants the thousand and one contributions which they levy on -the innocent sportsman, for a dog having crossed a potato field, or -for a hare which has spoiled a patch of beetroot; we had returned -to Montereau: here we had supped abundantly; finally, we had slept -soundly in excellent beds, when, next day, in making up our accounts, -we perceived that we were fifteen francs short, even if the waiter was -not tipped, to be even with our host. Great was our consternation when -this deficit was realised. Not one of us had a watch, or possessed the -smallest pin, or could lay hands on the most ordinary bit of jewellery. -We gazed at one another dumbfounded; each of us knew well that he had -come to the end of his own resources, but he had reckoned upon his -neighbour. The waiter came to bring us the bill, and wandered about -the room expecting his money. We withdrew to the balcony as though to -take the air. We were stopping at the _Grand Monarque!_--a magnificent -sign-board represented a huge red head surmounted by a turban. We had -not even the chance, seized by Gérard, at Montmorency, of proposing -to our host to paint a sign for him! I was on the point of frankly -confessing our embarrassment to the hotel-keeper, and of offering -him my rifle as a deposit, when Bixio, whose eyes were mechanically -scanning the opposite house, uttered a cry. He had just read these -words, above three hoops from which dangled wooden candles-- - - CARRÉ, DEALER IN GROCERIES - -In desperate situations everything may be of importance. We crowded -round Bixio, asking him what was the matter with him. - -"Listen," he said, "I do not wish to raise false hopes; but I was at -school with a Carré who came from Montereau. If, by good fortune, the -Carré of that sign happens to be the same as my Carré, I shall not -hesitate to ask him to lend me the fifteen francs we need." - -"Whilst you are about it," I said to Bixio, "ask him for thirty." - -"Why thirty?" - -"I presume--you have not reckoned that we must go on foot?" - -"Ah! good gracious! that is true! Here goes for thirty, then! -Gentlemen, pray that he may be my Carré; I will go and see." - -Bixio went downstairs, and we stayed behind upon the balcony, full -of anxiety; the waiter still hanging round. Bixio went out of the -hotel, passed two or three times up and down in front of the shop -unostentatiously; then, suddenly, he rushed into it! And, through the -transparent window-panes, we saw him clasp a fat youth in his arms, who -wore a round jacket and an otter-skin cap. The sight was so touching -that tears came into our eyes. Then we saw no more; the two old -school-fellows disappeared into the back of the shop. Ten minutes later -both came out of the shop, crossed the street and entered the hotel. It -was evident that Bixio had succeeded in his borrowing; otherwise, had -he been refused, we presumed that the Rothschild of Montereau would not -have had the face to show himself. We were not mistaken. - -"Gentlemen," said Bixio, entering, "let me introduce to you M. Carré, -my school friend, who not only is so kind as to get us out of our -difficulty by lending us thirty francs, but also invites us to take a -glass of cognac or of curaçao at his house, according to your several -tastes." - -The school friend was greeted enthusiastically. Boulanger, whom we -had elected our banker, who for half an hour enjoyed a sinecure, -settled accounts with the waiter, generously giving him fifty centimes -for himself, and put fourteen francs ten sous into his pocket in -reserve for the boat. Then we hurried down the steps, extremely happy -at having extricated ourselves even more cleverly than M. Alexandre -Duval's _Henri V._ The service which we had just received from our -friend Carré--he had asked for our friendship, and we had hastened -to respond--did not prevent us from doing justice to his cognac, his -black-currant cordial and his curaçao; they were excellent. In fact, -we took two glasses of each liqueur to make sure that it was of good -quality. Then, as time was pressing, we said to our new friend, in the -phrase made famous by King Dagobert: "The best of friends must part," -and we expressed our desire to go to the boat. Carré wished to do us -the honours of his natal town to the last, and offered to accompany -us. We accepted. It was a good thing we did. We had been misinformed -about the fares of places in the boat: we wanted nine francs more to -complete the necessary sum for going by water. Carré drew ten francs -from his pocket with a lordly air, and gave them to Bixio. Our debt had -attained the maximum of forty francs. There remained then twenty sous -for our meals on board the boat. It was a modest sum; but still, with -twenty sous between four people, we should not die of hunger. Besides, -was not Providence still over us? Might not one of us also come across -his Carré? Expectant of this fresh manifestation of Providence, we each -pressed Bixio's friend in our arms, and we passed from the quay to the -boat. It was just time; the bell was ringing for departure, and the -boat was beginning to move. Our adieux lasted as long as we could see -each other. Carré flourished his otter-skin cap, while we waved our -handkerchiefs. There is nothing like a new friendship for tenderness! -At length the moment came when, prominent objects though Carré and his -cap had been, both disappeared on the horizon. - -We then began our examination of the boat; but after taking stock of -each passenger we were obliged to recognise, for the time being at any -rate, that Providence had failed us. That certainty led to all the -greater sadness among us, as each stomach, roused by the exhilarating -morning air, began to clamour for food. We heard all round us, as -though in mockery of our wretchedness, a score of voices shouting-- - -"Waiter! two cutlets!... Waiter! a beefsteak!... Waiter! _un thé -complet!_" - -The waiters ran about bringing the desired comestibles, and calling out -in their turn as they passed by us-- - -"Do not you gentlemen require anything? No lunch? You are the only -gentlemen who have not asked for something!" - -At last I replied impatiently: "No; we are waiting for some one who -should join us at the landing-stage of Fontainebleau." Then, turning to -my companions in hunger, I said to them-- - -"Upon my word, gentlemen, he who sleeps dines; now, the greater -includes the less, so I am going to take my lunch sleeping." - -I settled myself in a corner. I had even then the faculty which I have -since largely perfected, I can sleep pretty nearly when I like. Hardly -was I resting on my elbow before I was asleep. I do not know how long -I had been given up to the deceptive illusion of sleep before a waiter -came up to me and repeated three times in an ascending scale-- - -"Monsieur! monsieur!! monsieur!!!" - -I woke up. - -"What is it?" I said to him. - -"Monsieur said that he and his friends would breakfast with a person he -expected at the landing-place at Fontainebleau." - -"Did I say that?" - -"Monsieur said so." - -"You are sure?" - -"Yes." - -"Well?" - -"Well then, it; is time monsieur ordered his lunch, seeing that we are -approaching Fontainebleau." - -"Already?" - -"Ah! monsieur has slept a long time!" - -"You might have left me to sleep still longer." - -"But monsieur's friend ..." - -"Monsieur's friend would have found him if he came." - -"But is not monsieur sure, then, of meeting his friend?" - -"Waiter, when you have read Socrates you will know how rare a friend -is, and, consequently, how little certainty there is of meeting one!" - -"But monsieur can still order lunch for three; if monsieur's friend -comes, another cover can be added." - -"You say we are nearing Fontainebleau?" I replied, eluding the question. - -"In five minutes we shall be opposite the landing-stage." - -"Then I will go and see if my friend is coming." - -I went up on the deck, and mechanically glanced towards the -landing-stage. We were still too far off to distinguish anything; -but, assisted by tide and steam, the boat rapidly advanced. Gradually -individuals grouped on the bank could be separately distinguished. -Then outlines could be more clearly seen, then the colour of their -clothes, and, finally, their features. My gaze was fastened, almost in -spite of myself, upon an individual who was waiting in the middle of -ten other persons, and whom I believed I recognised. But it was most -unlikely!... However, it was very like him, ... if it were he, what -luck.... No, it seemed impossible.... Nevertheless, it was, indeed, his -shape and figure and physiognomy. The boat approached nearer still. -The individual who was the object of my attention got into the boat to -come on board the steamer, which stopped to take up passengers. When -half-way to the steamer the individual recognised me and waved his hand -to me. - -"Is that you?" I shouted. - -"Yes, it is I," he replied. - -I had found my Carré, only his name was Félix Deviolaine; and, instead -of being just an ordinary school-fellow, he was my cousin. I ran to the -ladder and flung myself into his arms with as much effusion as Bixio -had into Carré's. - -"Are you alone?" he asked me. - -"No; I am with Bixio and Boulanger." - -"Have you lunched?" - -"No." - -"Well, shall I have lunch with you?" - -"Say, rather, may we have lunch with you?" - -"It is the same thing." - -"Nothing of the kind." - -I explained the difference between his lunching with us and we with -him. He understood perfectly. The waiter stood by, serviette in hand; -the amusing fellow had followed me as a shark follows a starving ship. - -"Lunch for four!" I said, and, provided that it includes two bottles -of burgundy, eight cutlets, a fowl and a salad, you can then add what -you like in the way of hors-d'œuvre and entremets. Lunch lasted until -we reached Melun. At four that afternoon we landed at the quay of the -Hôtel de Ville, and next day I resumed my rehearsals of _Charles VII._ - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - - _Le Masque de fer_--Georges' suppers--The garden - of the Luxembourg by moonlight--M. Scribe and - the _Clerc de la Basoche_--M. d'Épagny and _Le - Clerc et le Théologien_--Classical performances - at the Théâtre-Français--_Les Guelfes_, by M. - Arnault---Parenthesis--Dedicatory epistle to the prompter - - -In those days nothing had yet tarnished the spirit of that juvenile -love of the capital which had induced me to overcome many obstacles -in order to transport myself thither. Three or four days spent away -from the literary and political whirlpool of Paris seemed to me a long -absence. During the month I had stayed at Trouville I felt as though -the world had stood still. I took but the time to fly home to change -my shooting dress,--as regards the game, my travelling companions had -seen to that,--to make inquiries about things that might have happened -affecting myself, and then I went to the Odéon. It took me a good -half-hour's fast walking, and an hour in a fly, to go from my rue -Saint-Lazare to the Odéon Theatre. Railways were not in existence then, -or I might have followed the method pursued by a friend of mine who -had an uncle living at the barrière du Maine. When he went to see his -uncle--and this happened twice a week, Thursdays and Sundays--he took -the railway on the right bank and arrived by the railway on the left -bank. He only had Versailles to cross through, and there he was at his -uncle's house! - -They had rehearsed conscientiously, but the rehearsals had not been -hurried at all. The last piece to be performed was the _Masque de -fer_, by MM. Arnault and Fournier. Lockroy had been magnificent in -it, and although the play was acted _without Georges_ it brought in -money. I say, although it was played _without Georges_, because it -was a superstition at the Odéon, a superstition accredited by Harel, -that no piece paid if Georges was not acting in it. Ligier, a most -conscientious actor, though almost always compelled to struggle against -the drawback of being too small in figure and having too coarse a -voice, had been a genuine success in his part, greater than I can -remember any actor to have had in a rôle created by himself. What a -capital company the Odéon was at that period! Count up on your fingers -those I am about to name, and you will find six or eight players -of the first rank: Frédérick-Lemaître, Ligier, Lockroy, Duparay, -Stockleit, Vizentini, Mademoiselle Georges, Madame Moreau-Sainti -who was privileged always to remain beautiful, and Mlle. Noblet who -unfortunately was not equally privileged to remain for ever virtuous. -Mlle. Noblet, poor woman, who had just played Paula for me, and who was -about to play Jenny; Mlle. Noblet, whose great dark eyes and beautiful -voice and melancholy face gave birth to hopes which now are so utterly -quenched at the Théâtre-Français that, although she is still young, -people have not known for the past ten years whether she, who was so -full of promise, is still alive or dead! - -Why were these eclipses of talent so frequent at the theatre of -Richelieu? This is a question which we will examine on the first -suitable opportunity that presents itself. Let Bressant, who has played -the Prince of Wales admirably for me in _Kean_ during the past fifteen -or sixteen years, look to his laurels and cling tight to his new -repertory, or probably he will be lost sight of like the others. - -I stayed behind to supper with Georges. I have already said how very -charming her supper-parties were,--very unlike those of Mlle. Mars, -although often both were attended by the same people. But, in this -case, the guests in general took their cue from the mistress of the -house. Mademoiselle Mars was always a little stiff and somewhat formal, -and she seemed as though she were putting her hand over the mouths of -even her most intimate friends, not letting them give vent to their -wit beyond a certain point. While Georges, a thoroughly good sort -beneath her imperial airs, allowed every kind of wit, and laughed -unrestrainedly, Mlle. Mars, on the other hand, for the greater part -of the time, only smiled half-heartedly. Then, how scatter-brained, -extravagant, abandoned we were at Georges' suppers! How evident it -was seen that all the convivial spirits--Harel, Janin, Lockroy--did -not know how to contain themselves! When Becquet, who was a leading -light at Mlle. Mars', adventured into our midst at Mlle. Georges', he -passed into the condition of a mere looker-on. And the type of mind -was entirely different--Harel's, caustic and retaliating; Janin's, -good-natured and merry; Lockroy's, refined and aristocratic. Poor -Becquet! one was obliged to wake him up, to prick him and to spur -him. He reminded one of a respectable drunkard asleep in the midst of -fireworks. Then, after these suppers, which lasted till one or two -in the morning, we went into the garden. The garden had a door in it -leading out on the Luxembourg and the Chamber of Peers, the key of -which Cambacérès lent Harel on the strength of his having once been his -secretary. The result was that we had a royal park for the discussion -of our dessert. Gardens of classical architecture, like Versailles, -the Tuileries and the Luxembourg are very fine seen by night and by -the light of the moon. Each statue looks like a phantom; each fountain -of water a cascade of diamonds. Oh! those nights of 1829 and 1830 and -1831! Were they really as glorious as I think them? Or was it because I -was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age that made them seem -so fragrant, so peaceful and so full of stars?... - -But to return. The Théâtre-Français, to our great joy, continued, -by its failures, to afford a melancholy contrast to the success of -its confrères of the boulevards and the outre-Seine. They had just -played a five-act piece entitled the _Clerc et le Théologien_, which -had simply taken as its subject the death of Henri III., a subject -treated with much talent by Vitet in his _Scènes historiques._ Those -who have forgotten the _États de Blois_ and the _Mort d'Henri III._ can -re-read the two works, that have had a great influence on the literary -renascence of 1830, which, according to the amiable M. P---- has yet -to produce its fruit. M. P---- is a gentleman whom I propose to take by -the collar and give a thorough good shaking, when I happen to have eau -de Cologne on my handkerchief and gloves on my hands. - -A strange incident preceded the performance of the _Clerc et le -Théologien._ The play, written in collaboration by MM. Scribe and -d'Épagny, and accepted by the Odéon Theatre, had been stopped by the -censor of 1830. Good old Censorship! It is the same in all ages! There -indeed come moments when it cuts its fingers with its own scissors; -but censors are a race of polypii,--their fingers merely grow again. -The censor had, then, stopped MM. Scribe and d'Épagny's drama. The -vessel which bore their twofold banner, upon which the Minister of the -Interior had put his embargo by the medium of his custom officers, was -at anchor in the docks of the rue de Grenelle. The Revolution of 1830 -set it afloat again. - -We have said that Harel received the work in 1829. Becoming possessed -of his own work again by the events of the revolution of July, Scribe -thought no more of Harel and took his play to the Théâtre-Français. But -Scribe, who usually reckoned carefully, had this time reckoned without -Harel. Harel had far too good a memory to forget Scribe. He pursued -author and play, writ in hand and a sheriff's officer behind him. It -need hardly be said that the officer stopped both the play and the -author just when they were turning the corner of the rue de Richelieu. -Sheriff's officers are very fast runners! A law-suit ensued, and Harel -lost. But the trial inspired Scribe's imagination; in that twofold -insistence of the Théâtre-Français and the Théâtre-Odéon he saw a means -of killing two birds with one stone and of making one play into two. -In this way M. Scribe would have his drama, M. d'Épagny his drama; -the Théâtre-Français its drama, and the Odéon its drama. The play, -consequently, was reduplicated like a photograph: the Théâtre-Français, -which was down on its luck, came in for the _Clerc et le Théologien_ -by M. d'Épagny; Harel drew Scribe aside by his coat-tails just as the -_Clerc de la Basoche_ and he were entering, _à reculons_, on the second -French stage. It is to be understood that I use this rather ambitious -locution, the _seconde scène française_, to avoid putting _Odéon_ so -close to _reculons._ Both the dramas were failures, or pretty nearly -so. I did not see either of them, and I shall therefore take good care -to refrain from expressing my opinion upon them. - -But our true fête days--I hope I may be forgiven for this harmless -digression--were when it was the turn of one of the gentlemen from the -Institute--Lemercier, Viennet or Arnault--to produce a work. Then there -was general hilarity. We would all arrange to meet in the orchestra of -the Théâtre-Français to be present at the spectacle of a work falling -flat, sometimes with very little assistance, at others gently aided -in its fall by a bitter blast of hisses; a spectacle sad enough for -the author's friends, but very exhilarating to his enemies, and the -gentlemen above mentioned had treated us as enemies. - -M. Arnault was the cleverest of the three authors I have just named, a -man, as I have said elsewhere, of immense worth and eminent intellect. -But everyone has his own hobby-horse, as Tristram Shandy says, and -M. Arnault's hobby-horse was tragedy. But his hobby was roaring, -broken-winded, foundered, to such an extent that, in spite of its legs -being fired by the _Constitutionnel_, it could rarely get to the last -line of a fifth act! - -We asked that these gentlemen's pieces should be played with as much -fervour as they employed in stating that ours should not. They, on -their side, clamoured loudly to be played, and, as they had the -government to back them up, specially since the July Revolution, their -turn to be represented arrived, in spite of the timid opposition of the -Théâtre-Français, in spite, too, of sighs from members of the staff and -the groans of the cashier. True, the torture did not last long; it was -generally restricted to the three customary performances, even if it -attained to three. Often the first performance was not ended; witness -_Pertinax_ and _Arbogaste._ It was very strange, in this case, to see -the excuses which these gentlemen made up for their failure. Those -made by M. Arnault were delightful, since nobody could possibly have -a readier wit than he. For instance, he had made the Théâtre-Français -take up again an old piece of his, played, I believe, under the Empire -the _Proscrit_, or _les Guelfes et les Gibelins._ The piece fell flat. -Who did the furious Academician blame for it?--Firmin! Why Firmin? -Firmin, delightful, enthusiastic and conscientious player, who enjoyed -much lasting favour from the public, although his memory began to fail -him,--Firmin played the part of Tébaldo, head of the Ghibellines and -brother of Uberti, head of the Guelfs, in the play. The other parts -were played by Ligier, Joanny and Duchesnois. So, we see, M. Arnault -had nothing to grumble at: the Comédie-Française had lent him of its -best; perhaps it had a conviction it would not be for long. Very well, -M. Arnault made Firmin's memory, or, rather, want of memory, the excuse -for this failure, and he dedicated his play to the prompter. We have -this curious dedication before us, and are going to quote it; it will, -we hope, have for our readers at least the attraction of a hitherto -unpublished fragment. This time we are not afraid of being mistaken in -the name of the author _du factum_ as not long since happened to us -concerning an article in the _Constitutionnel_ reproduced by us, which, -by a copyist's error, we ascribed to M. Étienne, whilst it was only by -M. Jay.[1] - -And, by the way, as a relation of M. Étienne, a son-in-law or rather, -I think, it was a nephew,--protested in the papers, let me be allowed -a word of explanation, which will completely re-establish my good -faith. I live part of my life in Brussels, part in Paris; the rest -of the time I live in the railway between Brussels and Paris, or -Paris and Brussels. Besides, I have already said that I am writing my -Memoirs without notes. The consequence is that, when I am in Paris, -I have my information close at hand; but when I am in Brussels I am -obliged to have it sent from Paris. Now, I needed the article that -had been published against _Antony_ the very morning of the day it -was to have been played at the Théâtre-Français. I wrote to Viellot, -my secretary--a delightful fellow who never thought of spreading the -report that he was any collaborator,--to unearth the _Constitutionnel_ -from the catacombs of 1834, to copy out for me the above-mentioned -article and to send it me. Viellot went to the Bibliothèque, that great -common grave where journals of all sorts of parties and colours and -times are entered. He borrowed the file from the rag-merchant of Pyat -who was taking it away, and who, when he learnt what was wanted, would -not let it off his hook for love or money until he was told that it was -in order to do me a service; then he lent it, and Viellot picked off -from its curved point the _Constitutionnel_ for 28 April 1834. Then -he returned home and copied out the article. Only, in copying it I do -not know what hallucination he was possessed with, whether the style -flew to his head, or the wit got into his brain, or the form upset his -senses, anyhow, he imagined that the article was by M. Étienne, and -signed it with the name of the author of _Brueys et Palaprat_ and of -the _Deux Gendres._ I, seeing the copy of the article, believed,--I -was at a distance of seventy leagues from the scene of action, as they -say poetically in politics,--the signature to be as authentic as the -rest; I therefore fell upon the unfortunate article, and rent it in -pieces--I was going to say tooth and nail, but no, I am too cautious -for that!--with might and main, both article and signature. My error, -though involuntary, was none the less an error on that account, and -deserved that I should acknowledge it publicly. Thereupon, reparation -be made to M. Étienne, and homage paid to M. Jay! Honour to whom honour -is due! - -Let us return to M. Arnault and his dedication, which, I remember, at -the time made my poor Firmin so unhappy that he wept over it like a -child! - - "DEDICATORY EPISTLE - - TO THE PROMPTER OF THE THÉÂTRE-FRANÇAIS[2] - - "MONSIEUR,--Authors are by no means all ungrateful beings. - I know some who have paid homage for their success to the - player to whom they were particularly indebted. I imitate - this noble example: I dedicate the _Guelfes_ to you. - Mademoiselle Duchesnois, M. Joanny, M. Ligier have, without - doubt, contributed to the success of that work by a zeal as - great as their talent; but whatever they may have done for - me, have they done as much as you, monsieur? - - "'_To prompt is not to play_,' M. Firmin will say, who is - even stronger at the game of draughts than at the game of - acting.[3] To that I reply with Sganarelle: 'Yes and no!' - When the prompter merely gives the word to the actor, when - he only jogs the memory of the player, no, certainly, _to - prompt is not to play!_ But when the player takes everything - from the prompter, everything from the first to the last - line of his part; when your voice covers his; when it is - yours alone which is heard whilst he gesticulates, certainly - this is _playing through the prompter!_ Is it not this, - monsieur, which has happened, not only at the first, but - even at every performance of the _Guelfes?_ Is it not you - who really played M. Firmin's part? - - "'His memory,' he says, 'is of the worst.' It is - conceivable, according to the system which places the seat - of memory in the head.[4] But, under the circumstances, - does not M. Firmin blame his memory for the infirmity of - his will? And why, you will say to me, is M. Firmin wanting - in kindly feeling towards you, who feel kindly disposed to - everybody? Towards you, who, from your age, perhaps also - from your misfortunes, if not on account of past successes, - had a right at least to that consideration which is not - refused to the scholar who makes his first appearance? Such - are indeed the rights which I knew M. Firmin's good nature - would accord you, rights which I thought to strengthen - in him by offering one of the most important parts in my - tragedy, the part that you have prompted, or that you - have played: it is a case of six of one and a half-dozen - of another. I was, indeed, far from suspecting that the - honour done to M. Firmin's talent was an insult to his - expectations. Yet that is what has happened. - - "The succession to Talma was open for competition. When - the empire of the world came to be vacant, all who laid - claim to the empire of Alexander were not heroes: I ought - to have remembered this; but does one always profit by the - lessons of history? I did not imagine that the heir to the - dramatic Alexander would be the one among his survivors who - least resembled him. Nature had shown great prodigality - towards Talma. His physical gifts corresponded with his - moral endowments, a glowing soul dwelt in his graceful body; - a vast intellect animated that noble head; his powerful - voice, with its pathetic and solemn intonation, served as - the medium for his inexhaustible sensitiveness, for his - indefatigable energy. Talma possesses everything nature - could bestow; besides all that art could acquire. Although - M. Firmin has eminent gifts, does he combine in himself all - perfections? His somewhat slender personal appearance does - not ill-become all youthful parts, but does it accord with - the dignity required by parts of leading importance? His - voice is not devoid of charm in the expression of sentiments - of affection; but has it the strength requisite for serious - moods and violent emotions? His intellect is not wanting - in breadth; but do his methods of execution expand to that - breadth when he wants to exceed the limits with which nature - has circumscribed him? The pride of the eagle may be found - in the heart of a pigeon, and the courage of a lion in that - of a poodle. But, by whatever sentiment it is animated, the - rock-pigeon can only coo, the cur can but howl. Now, these - accents have not at all the same authority as the cry of - the king of the air, or the roar of the king of the forests. - - "After these sage reflections, distributing the part of my - tragedy to the actors who have abilities that are the most - in keeping with the characters of those parts, I gave that - of Uberti to M. Ligier, an actor gifted with an imposing - figure and voice, and I reserved the part of the tender - impassioned Tébaldo for M. Firmin. What the deuce possessed - me? Just as every Englishman says whenever he comes across - salt water, '_This belongs to us!_' so does M. Firmin say - whenever he comes across a part made for the physiognomy - of Talma, _This belongs to me_![5] The part of Uberti was - intended for Talma, and I did not offer it to M. Firmin! - The part of Uberti was claimed by M. Firmin, and I did not - take it from M. Ligier! A twofold crime of _lèse-majesté._ - Alas! How the majesty of M. Firmin has punished me for - it! He accepted the rôle that I offered him. Knowing the - secrets of the Comédie, you know, monsieur, what has been - the result of that act of complacency. Put into study in - April, _Les Guelfes_ might have been produced in May, under - the propitious influence of spring; it was only performed in - July, during the heat of the dog-days. Thus had M. Firmin - decided. Oh! the power of the force of inertia! When several - ships sail in company, the common pace is regulated by that - of the poorest sailer. The common pace in this case was - regulated by the memory of M. Firmin, which unfortunately - was regulated by his good will. Now, this good will thought - fit to compromise the interests of my reputation. But - everything has to be paid for. At what point, monsieur, did - it not serve the interests of your fame? All the newspapers - kept faithful to it. Did it not exhume you from the pit, - where hitherto you had buried your capacities, and reveal - them to the public? Did it not, when raising you to the - level of the actors behind whom you had hitherto been - hidden, give them a mouthpiece in you? - - "Declaiming, whilst M. Firmin gesticulated, you have, - it is true, transferred from the boulevards to the - Théâtre-Français an imitation of that singular combination - of a declamatory orator who does not let himself be seen, - and a gesticulator who does not let himself be heard, - co-operate in the execution of the same part. People of - scrupulous taste are, it is true, offended by it; but what - matters that to you? It is not you, monsieur, who, in these - scenes, play the buffoon: and what does it matter to me, - since, acting thus, you have saved my play? Moreover, is it - the first borrowing, and the least honourable borrowing, - that your noble theatre has made from those of the - boulevards?[6] - - "Thanks to that admirable agreement, the _Guelfes_ has had - several representations. But why has not the run, suspended - by a journey taken by Mademoiselle Duchesnois, been resumed - upon her return, as that great actress requested it should - be, and as the play-bills announced.[7] - - "M. Firmin refused to proceed. The part of Tébaldo, he says, - has slipped out of his memory. For that matter, it might as - well never have entered it. But, after all, what is it to - you or to me whether he knows his part or not? Can he not - make the same shift in the future as he has in the past? - Need his memory fail him so long as you do not fail him? Is - his memory not at the tip of your tongue, which, one knows, - is by no means paralysed? But do not these difficulties, - monsieur, that are said to come from M. Firmin, come from - yourself? Accustomed to working underground, was it not - you who stirred them up in secret? You have not the entire - part, like M. Firmin; paid for prompting when you take the - part of an actor, and of a principal actor, did you not get - tired, at the last, of becoming out of breath for glory - alone, and did you not behind the scenes oppose the revival - of a play during the performance of which you had not time - to breathe? Justice, monsieur, justice! No doubt M. Firmin - owes you an indemnity: claim it, but do not compromise the - interests of the Théâtre-Français by impeding his services - in preventing him from doing justice to an author's rights; - that may lead to consequences, remember: the number of - authors dissatisfied with him on just grounds is already - but too great; be careful not to increase it. The second - Théâtre-Français, although people are doing their best to - kill it, is not yet dead. Would it be impossible to put it - on its feet again? Will not the players who have been drawn - off to block the first theatre (which pays them less for - playing at it than for not playing any part at all) grow - tired in the end of a state of things which reduces them - from the status of parish priests to that of curates, or, - rather, from being the bishops they were degrades them to - the rank of millers? In conclusion, is there not a nucleus - of a tragedy-playing company still left at the Odéon? And - are there no pupils at the school of oratory who could swell - the number? - - "Think of it, monsieur, the tragedy which they seem to wish - to stifle in the rue de Richelieu might find a home in the - faubourg Saint-Germain, which was its cradle and that also - of the Théâtre-Français. You would not do badly to drop - a hint of this to the members of the committee. Further, - happen what may, remember, monsieur, the obligations that I - owe you will never be erased from my memory, which is not as - ungrateful as that of M. Firmin. - - "If only I could express my gratitude to you by some homage - more worthy your acceptance!--Dedicate a tragedy to you, a - tragedy in verse, written at top speed![8] But each must pay - in his own coin: monsieur, do not refuse to take mine. - - "Remember, monsieur, that Benedict XIV. did not scorn the - dedication of _Mahomet._ I am not a Voltaire, I know; but - neither are you a Pope. All things considered, perhaps the - relation between us is equivalent to that which existed - between those two personages. Meanwhile, take this until - something better turns up. Classic by principle and by habit - I have not hitherto believed myself possessed of sufficient - genius to dispense with both rhyme and reason. But who - knows? Perhaps, some day, I shall be in a condition to try - my hand at the romantic _guerre_: if I put myself at a - distance from the age when people rave extravagantly I shall - draw nearer to that of dotage. Patience then!--I am, with - all the consideration which is due to you, monsieur, your - very humble and very obedient servant, - "ARNAULT" - - -[1] See p. 277 and footnote. - -[2] Three persons are honoured with this title; they differ, however, -in importance, not by reason of the relative importance of their -duties, which are always the same, but according to that of the kind -of work to which their talents are applied. Given the case of a work -of a special nature, a romantic work like _Louis IX._ or _Émilia_, -the prompter-in-chief takes the manuscript, and not a trace of that -noble prose reaches the ears of the players before it has passed -through his lips; but if it is a question of a classical work, a work -in verse, standing then on his dignity, like the executioner who -would only execute gentle folk, he says: you can carry through this -bit of business, you fellows, passing the plebeian copy-book to his -substitutes. When it is a question of high comedy he delegates his -duties to the second prompter, and tragedy is given over to a third, -that is to say to the industrious and modest man to whom this letter is -dedicated. - -[3] The game of draughts (_les dames_)--it is the game that is -meant--is in fact this actor's ruling passion, although he is not a -first-rate player. He knows, however, how to reconcile that passion -with his duties, and is scarcely less eager to quit his game in -order to go upon the stage when it is a public performance that is -in question, than to quit the stage to resume his game; when merely -authors are concerned, it is true, he does not exercise so much -alacrity; but as it is only a matter of rehearsals, does he not always -arrive quite soon enough ... when he does come? - -[4] The seat of memory varies according to the individual. It lay in -the stomach of that comedian to whom Voltaire sent his _Variantes_ in a -pâté. Mademoiselle Contat placed it in her heart, and her memory was an -excellent one. - -[5] In consequence of this right, M. Firmin is preparing to play -Hamlet. He has even bought for it, they tell me, the dress Talma wore -in that part. Fancy his dreaming of such a thing. That costume was not -made for his figure, and besides, all who wear lions' skins are not -always taken for lions. - -[6] _Louis XI._ and _Émilia_, whose merits we fully appreciate, seem -indeed to have been borrowed, if not actually robbed, from the theatres -of the boulevards. If, during the performance of these pieces, the -orchestra perchance woke out of its lethargy, whether to announce by a -fanfare of trumpets the entrance or departure of exalted personages, -whether to explain by a short symphony what speech had failed to make -clear, and even when one was in the precincts consecrated to Racine, -Corneille and Voltaire, one was willing enough to fancy oneself at -the Ambigu-Comique or at the Gaieté: it needed nothing more than this -to complete the illusion. Let us hope that the regenerators of this -theatre will take kindly to the remark and will profit by it for the -perfecting of the French stage. - -[7] For the last six months, and even to-day, the bill announces: -"Until the performance of _Les Guelfes et Les Gibelins_"; probably -to-morrow it will no longer contain the announcement. - -[8] It is especially against tragedies in verse that the umpires of -good taste to-day protest. Their repugnance in respect of poetry -ever outweighs their love for romanticism. If, in that series of -chapters--entitled scenes--whose whole forms a novel called a drama, -which is sold under the title of _Louis XI._; if, in _Louis XI._, the -Scottish prose of Sir Walter Scott had been put into rhymed verse; -that drama would not have been more kindly received by them than a -posthumous tragedy of Racine, although common sense would be scarcely -more respected there than in a melodrama. It is to the absence of rhyme -also that _Émilia_ owes the favour with which these gentlemen have -honoured it. When he had heard the reading of that work, one of the -most influential members of the tribunal by which it had been judged, -exclaimed: "_The problem is solved! The problem is solved!_ _We have -at last a tragedy in prose!_" The Comédiens Français formerly gave a -hundred louis to Thomas Corneille for putting a comedy of Molière's, -_Le Festin de Pierre_, into verse. The Comédiens Français will, it is -said, to-day give a thousand louis to an academician for putting the -tragedies of Corneille, Racine and of Voltaire into prose. Is it indeed -necessary that they should address themselves to an academician for -that? Do not a good many of them perform that parody every day of their -lives? - -Verse and rhyme are not natural, say lovers of nature. Clothes, -gentlemen, are not natural, and yet you wear them to distinguish -yourself from the savage; furthermore, you wear clothes of fine -materials to distinguish yourselves from the rabble, and, when you are -rich enough to enable you to do so, you adorn them with trimmings to -distinguish yourself even from well-to-do people. That which one does -for the body permit us to do for the intellect; allow us to do for the -mind that which you do for matter. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - - M. Arnault's _Pertinax_--_Pizarre_, by M. Fulchiron--M. - Fulchiron as a politician--M. Fulchiron as magic poet--A - word about M. Viennet--My opposite neighbour at the - performance of _Pertinax_--Splendid failure of the - play--Quarrel with my _vis-à-vis_--The newspapers take it - up--My reply in the _Journal de Paris_--Advice of M. Pillet - - -Alas! there are two things for which I have searched in vain! And -verily, God knows, how thoroughly I search when I begin! These -are Firmin's answer to M. Arnault and the tragedy of _Pertinax._ -Neither answer nor tragedy exist any longer. Why _Pertinax?_ What is -_Pertinax?_ And what is the successor to Commodus doing here? Rather -ask what the unfortunate being was doing at the Théâtre-Français! He -fell there beneath the hissings of the pit, as he fell beneath the -swords of the prætorians. Here is the history of his second death, his -second fall. After a lapse of seventeen years I cannot say much about -the first; but, after an interval of twenty-four years, I can relate -the second, at which I was present. - -After those unlucky _Guelfes_ had obstinately remained on the bills for -nine months they finally disappeared. M. Arnault demanded compensation -for Firmin's defective memory. The committee decided that, although -_Pertinax_ had only been received eleven years ago, it should be put in -rehearsal. - -Eleven years ago? You repeat, and you think I am mistaken, do you not? -But it is you who are mistaken. _Arbogaste_, by M. Viennet, received in -1825, was only played in 1841! _Pizarre_, by M. Fulchiron, received in -1803, has not yet been played! Let me put in a parenthesis in favour of -poor _Pizarre_ and the unfortunate M. Fulchiron. - -M. Fulchiron, you know him well?--Yes. Well, then, he had had a -tragedy, _Pizarre_, received at the Comédie-Française in the month -of August 1803--Ah! really? And what has the Comédie-Française been -doing the last fifty years?--It has not played M. Fulchiron's tragedy. -And what did this same M. Fulchiron do during those fifty years?--He -asked to have his piece played. Come! come! come!--What more could you -expect? Hope supported him! They had promised it, when they accepted -it, that it would have its turn. - -Those are the actual words! Look at the registers of the -Comédie-Française if you don't believe me. True, the police of the -Consulate suspended the work; but the censorship of the Empire was -better informed as to the tragedy and returned it to its author. - -Hence it arose that, contrary to the opinion of many people who -preferred the First Consul to the Emperor, M. Fulchiron preferred the -Emperor to the First Consul. - -During the whole of the Empire,--that is to say, from 1805 to -1814--during the whole of the Restoration--that is to say, from 1815 -to 1830--M. Fulchiron wrote, begged, prayed with, it must be admitted, -that gentleness which is indissolubly bound up with his real character. -In 1830, M. Fulchiron became a politician. Then he had an excuse to -offer. To his friends--M. Fulchiron actually took those people for his -friends! think of it!--who asked him-- - -"Why, then, dear Monsieur Fulchiron, did you not get your _Pizarre_ -played when so many good things had been said about it for a long time?" - -He replied--"Because I am a politician, and one cannot be both a -politician and a man of letters at the same time." - -"Bah! look at M. Guizot, M. Villemain, M. Thiers!" - -"M. Guizot, M. Villemain and M. Thiers have their own ideas on the -subject; I have mine." - -"Oh! influence in high quarters, then!" - -M. Fulchiron blushed and smiled; then, with that air which M. Viennet -puts on, when talking of Louis-Philippe, he said, _Mon illustre ami_-- - -"Well, yes," replied M. Fulchiron, "the king took hold of the button of -my coat, which is a habit of his, as you know." - -"No, I did not know." - -"Ah! that is because you are not one of the frequenters of the château." - -"There are people who lay great stress on being intimates of a château! -You understand?" - -"When he took me by my coat button," continued M. Fulchiron, "the king -said to me, 'My dear Fulchiron, in spite of the beauties it contains, -do not have your tragedy played.' 'But why not?' 'How can one make a -man a minister who has written a tragedy?' 'Sire, the Emperor Napoléon -said, "If Corneille had lived in my day, I should have made him a -prince!" 'I am not the Emperor Napoléon, and you are not Corneille.' -'Nevertheless, sire, when one has had a tragedy calling from the deeps -for the last thirty years ...' 'You shall read it to me, M. Fulchiron -...' 'Ah! sire, your Majesty's desires are commands. When would your -Majesty like me to read _Pizarre?_' Some day ... when all these devils -of Republicans leave me a bit of respite!'" - -The Republicans never left Louis-Philippe, who, you will agree, was -an intelligent man, any respite. That is why M. Fulchiron hated -Republicans so much. What! was that the reason? Yes! You thought -that M. Fulchiron hated Republicans because they tended to usurp -power, to disturb order, to put, as Danton expressed it in his curt -description of the Republic, _à mettre dessus ce qui est dessous?_ You -are mistaken; M. Fulchiron hated Republicans because by means of all -their riots--their 5 June, _14_ April, etc. etc. etc.--upon my word, -I forget all the dates!--they prevented him from reading his play to -Louis-Philippe. So, on 24 February 1848, however devoted he seemed to -be to the established government, M. Fulchiron allowed Louis-Philippe -to fall. - -See on what slender threads hang great events! If Louis-Philippe had -heard the reading of _Pizarre_, M. Fulchiron would have supported the -Government of July, and perhaps Louis-Philippe might still be on the -throne. So, after the fall of Louis-Philippe, M. Fulchiron was as -happy as the Prince of Monaco when they took away his principality from -him. - -"My political career is a failure," says M. Fulchiron, "and you see me -once more a literary man! I shall not be a minister, but I will be an -academician." - -"Indeed!" say you; "then why is not M. Fulchiron an academician?" - -"Because _Pizarre_ has not been played." - -"Good! Was not M. Dupaty received into the Academy on condition that -his tragedy _Isabelle_ should not be played?" - -"Oh! really?" - -"They were already sufficiently troubled by the fact that his _Seconde -Botanique_ had been played! That youthful indiscretion delayed his -entry for ten years ... But ten years are not fifty." - -So M. Fulchiron began to be impatient, as impatient, that is, as he can -be. From time to time he appears at the Théâtre-Français, and, with -that smile which, it seems to me, should prevent anyone from refusing -him anything, he says-- - -"About my _Pizarre_, it must be high time they were putting it in hand!" - -"Monsieur," says Verteuil to him--the secretary of the -Comédie-Française, a clever fellow, whom we have already had occasion -to mention, through whose hands many plays pass, but who does not -compose any himself--"Monsieur, they are even now busy with it." - -"Ah! very good!" - -And M. Fulchiron's smile becomes still more winning.-- - -"Yes, and as soon as M. Viennet's _Achille_, now under rehearsal, has -been played, _Pizarre_ will occupy the stage." - -"But, if I remember rightly, M. Viennet's _Achille_ was only accepted -in 1809, and, consequently, I have the priority." - -"Doubtless; but M. Viennet had two _tours de faveur_ and you only one." - -"Then I was wrong to complain." - -And M. Fulchiron goes away always smiling, takes his visiting-card in -person to M. Viennet, and writes in pencil on it these few words, -"Dear colleague, hasten your rehearsals of _Achille!_" - -Thus he leaves his card with M. Viennet's porter, the same porter who -informed the said M. Viennet that he was a peer of France; and M. -Viennet, who is horribly spiteful, has not bowed to M. Fulchiron since -the second card. He treats the seven pencilled words of M. Fulchiron as -an epigram and says to everybody-- - -"Fulchiron may, perhaps, be a Martial, but I swear he is not an -Æschylus!" - -And M. Fulchiron, his arms hung down, continues to walk abroad and -through life, as Hamlet says, never doubting that if he is no Æschylus -it is all owing to M. Viennet.[1] - -I will close my parenthesis about M. Fulchiron, and return to M. -Arnault and _Pertinax_, which the ungrateful prompter, in spite of the -dedicatory epistle to the _Guelfes_, has never called anything but -_Père Tignace_ (Daddy Tignace). - -_Pertinax_, then, was played as some compensation for the disappearance -of the _Guelfes._ Oh! what a pity it is that _Pertinax_ has not been -printed! How I would like to have given you specimens of it and then -you would understand the merriment of the pit! All I recollect is, that -at the decisive moment the Emperor Commodus called for his secretary. -I had in front of me a tall man whose broad shoulders and thick locks -hid the actor from me every time he happened to be in the line of -sight. Unluckily, I did not possess the scissors of Sainte-Foix. By his -frantic applause I gathered that this gentleman understood many things -which I did not. The upshot of it was that, when the Emperor Commodus -called his secretary, the play upon words seemed to me to require an -explanation, and I leant over towards the gentleman in front, and, with -all the politeness I could command, I said to him-- - -"Pardon me, monsieur, but it seems to me that this is a _pièce à -tiroirs!_" (Comedy made up of unconnected episodes.) - -He jumped up in his stall, uttered a sort of roar but controlled -himself. True, the curtain was on the point of falling, and before -it had actually fallen our enthusiast was shouting with all his -might--"Author!" - -Unfortunately, everybody was by no means as eager to know the author -as was my neighbour in front. Something like three-quarters of the -house--and, perhaps, among these were M. Arnault's own friends--did not -at all wish him to be named. Placed in the orchestra between M. de Jouy -and Victor Hugo, feeling, on my left, the elbows of Romanticism and, on -my right, those of _Classicism_, if I may be allowed to coin a word, I -waited patiently and courageously until they stopped hissing, just as -M. Arnault had acted towards me in turning the cold shoulder towards me -after _Henri III._, leaving me the privilege of neutrality. - -But man proposes and God disposes. God, or rather the devil, inspired -the neighbour to whom I had perhaps put an indiscreet, although very -innocent question, to point me out to his friends, and, consequently, -to M. Arnault, as the Æolus at whose signal all the winds had been let -loose which blew from the four cardinal points of the theatre in such -different ways. A quarrel ensued between me and the tall man, a quarrel -which instantly made a diversion in the strife that was going on. Next -day all the journals gave an account of this quarrel, with their usual -impartiality, generosity and accuracy towards me. It was imperative -that I should reply. I chose the _Journal de Paris_ in which to publish -my reply; it was edited, at that period, by the father of Léon Pillet, -a friend of mine. Therefore, the following day, the _Journal de Paris_ -published my letter, preceded and followed by a few bitter and sweet -lines. This is the exordium. After my letter will come the peroration. - - "In reporting the failure which the tragedy of _Pertinax_ - met with at the hands of the critics, we mentioned that - a dispute took place in the centre of the orchestra. M. - Alexandre Dumas, one of the actors in this little drama, - which was more exciting than the one that had preceded it, - has addressed a letter to us on this subject. We hasten to - publish it without wishing to constitute ourselves judges - of the accompanying accusations which the author of _Henri - III._ brings against the newspapers. - - "'_Friday_, 29 _May_ 1829 - - 'In spite of the fixed resolution I had taken and have - adhered to until to-day, of never replying to what the - papers say of me, I think it my duty to ask you to insert - this letter in your next issue. It is a reply to the short - article which forms the complement of the account in - your issue of yesterday, in which you give an account of - _Pertinax._ Your article is couched in these terms-- - - "'"_As we were leaving the house, a lively contest arose - in the orchestra, between an old white-haired man and a - very youthful author, in other words, doubtless, between - a 'classic' and a 'romantic.' Let us hope that that - altercation will not lead to unpleasant consequences._" - - "'It is I, monsieur, who have the misfortune to be the - _very youthful author_, to whom it is of great importance, - from the very fact of his being young and an author, that - he should lay down the facts exactly as they happened. I - was in the orchestra of the Français, between M. de Jouy - and M. Victor Hugo, during the whole of the performance of - _Pertinax._ Obliged, in a manner, as a student of art and - as a student of all that which makes masters to listen, I - had listened attentively and in silence to the five acts - which had just concluded, when, in the middle of the lively - dispute that was going on between some spectators who wished - M. Arnault to be called and others who did not, I was - impudently apostrophised, whilst sitting quite silent, by a - friend of M. Arnault, who stood up and pointed at me with - his finger. I will repeat what he said word for word-- - - "'"_It is not surprising that they are hissing in the - orchestra when M. Dumas is there. Are you not ashamed, - monsieur, to make yourself the ringleader of a cabal?_" - - "'"And when I replied that I had not said one word, he - added-- - - "'"_That does not matter, it is you who direct the whole - league!_" - - "'As some persons may believe this stupid accusation I have - appealed to the testimony of MM. de Jouy and Victor Hugo. - This testimony is, as it was inevitable that it would be, - unanimous. - - "'That is enough, I think, to exonerate myself. But, whilst - I have the pen in my hand, monsieur, as it is probably - the first and, perhaps, the last time that I write to a - newspaper.[2] I desire to add a few words relative to the - absurd attacks my drama of _Henri III._ has brought down on - me; such a favourable occasion as this one may, perhaps, - never present itself again: allow me, therefore, to take - advantage of it. - - "'I think I understand, and I honestly believe that I - accept, true literary criticism as well as anyone. But, - seriously, monsieur, are the facts I have just quoted really - literary criticism? - - "'The day after the reception of my drama _Henri III._ at - the Comédie-Française, the _Courrier des Théâtres_, which - did not know the work, denounced it to the censorship, in - the hope, so it was said, that the censor would not suffer - the scandal of such a performance. That seems to me rather - a matter for the police than for literature. Is it not - so, monsieur? I will not speak of a petition which was - presented to the king during my rehearsals pleading that the - Théâtre-Français should return to the road of the _really - beautiful._[3] - - "'It is stated that the august personage to whom it was - addressed replied simply, "_What can I do in a question - of this nature? I only have a place in the pit, like all - other Frenchmen._" I have not really the courage to be - angered against the signatories of a denunciation which has - brought us such a reply. Besides, several of us would have - blushed, since, for what they had done, and have said that - they thought they were signing quite a different thing. - Then came the day of the representation. It will be granted - that, on that day alone, the newspapers had the right to - speak of the work. They made great use of their privileges; - but several of them, as they themselves confessed, were not - choice in their style of criticism. The _Constitutionnel_ - and the _Corsaire_ said much kinder things the first day - than the play deserved. A week later, the _Constitutionnel_ - compared the play with the _Pie Voleuse_, and accused the - author of having danced a round dance in the green room - of the Comédie-Française with some wild fanatics, about - the bust of Racine--which stands with its back against the - wall--shouting, "_Racine is done for_!" This was merely - ridicule, and people shrugged their shoulders. The next - day, the _Corsaire_ said that the work was a monstrosity, - and that the author was a Jesuit and a pensioner. This, it - must be admitted, was an excellent joke, addressed to the - son of a Republican general whose mother never received the - pension which, it seems, was due to her, whether from the - government of the Empire or from the king's government. - This was more than ridicule, it was contemptible. As for - the _Gazette de France_, I will do it the justice of saying - that it has not varied for an instant from the opinion that - M. de Martainville expressed in it on the first day. This - journal made out that there was a flagrant conspiracy in the - play against the throne and the altar; while the journalist - expressed the liveliest regret that he had not seen the - author appear when he was called for. "People declare," he - said, "that _his face has a typically romantic air about - it._" Now, as Romanticism is M. de Martainville's _bête - noire_, I can believe, without being too punctilious, that - he had no intention of paying me a compliment. It is not - merely impolite on M. de Martainville's part, but, worse - still, it is indelicate: M. de Martainville is very well - aware that one can make one's reputation but that one cannot - make one's own physiognomy. His own physiognomy is extremely - respectable. I could go on explaining the causes of these - alterations and insults, and make known various sufficiently - curious anecdotes concerning certain individuals; still more - could I ... But the twelve columns of your newspaper would - not suffice. I will therefore conclude my letter, monsieur, - by asking advice of you, since you have great experience. - What ought an author to do in order to spare himself the - quarrels arising out of first performances? I have had - three of this nature during the last three months;--three - quarrels, that is to say: had it been three representations - I should not have survived! - - "'One concerning _Isabelle de Bavière_, with an admirer of - M. de Lamothe-Langon, who made out that I had hissed. One - at the _Élections_, with an enemy of M. de Laville, who - contended that I had applauded. Lastly, one at _Pertinax_ - with a friend of M. Arnault, because I neither clapped nor - hissed. I await your kind advice, monsieur, and I give you - my word that I will follow it, if it be anyway possible for - me to do so.--I have the honour, etc.'" - -After the last line of the above, the _Journal de Paris_ attempted a -sort of reply-- - - "As to the advice which M. Alexandre Dumas is kind enough to - ask us to give because of our experience concerning the line - of conduct he should take to avoid disputes at first-night - performances, we will reply to him that a young author, - happy in the enjoyment of a real success, and who knows - how to conceal his joyous pride beneath suitable modesty; - a _student of art_ who, like M. Dumas, gives himself up to - the study of _the works of masters_, including, therein, - the author of _Pertinax_,--does not need to fear insulting - provocations. If, in spite of these dispositions, natural, - no doubt, to the character of M. Dumas, people persist on - picking these Teuton or classic quarrels with him, I should - advise him to treat them with contempt, the quarrels, I - mean, not the Teutons or the classics. Or, indeed, there is - another expedient left him: namely, to abstain from going to - first performances." - -The advice, it will be admitted, was difficult, if not impossible, to -follow. I was too young, and my heart was too near my head, I had, -as is vulgarly said, "la tête trop près du bonnet" _i.e._ I was too -hot-headed, to treat quarrels with contempt, whether with Teutons -or classics, and I was too inquisitive not to attend first nights -regularly. I have since been cured of this latter disease; but it has -been for want of time. And yet, it is not so much lack of time which -has cured me; it is the first performances themselves. - - NOTE - - I have an apology to make concerning M. Fulchiron. It seems - I was in error, not about the date of the reception of - _Pizarre_; not upon the turn of favour[4] which led to the - performance of that piece in 1803; not, finally, upon the - darkness of the spaces of Limbo in which it balanced with - eyes half shut, between death and life--but about the cause - which prevented it from being played in 1803. - - First of all, let me say that no one claimed again in - respect of M. Fulchiron, not even he himself. If he had - claimed again, my pleasantries would have pained him, and - then, I confess, I should have been as sad as, and even - sadder than, he, to have given occasion for a protest on the - part of so honourable a man and, above all, so unexacting an - author. This is what happened. - - One day, recently, when entering the green room at the - Théâtre-Français, where I was having a little comedy called - _Romulus_ rehearsed, which, in spite of its title, had - nothing to do with the founder of Rome, I was accosted by - Régnier, who plays the principal part in the work. - - "Ah!" he said, "is that you?... I am delighted to see you!" - - "And I to see you ... Have you some good advice to give me - about my play?" - - I should tell you that, in theatrical matters, Régnier gives - the wisest advice I know. - - "Not about your play," he replied, "but about yourself." - - "Oh come, my dear fellow! I would have shaken hands with you - for advice about my play; but for personal advice, I will - embrace you." - - "You lay great stress on being impartial?" - - "Why! You might as well ask me if I am keen on living." - - "And when you have been unjust you are very anxious to - repair your injustice?" - - 'Indeed I am!" - - "Then, my dear friend, you have been unfair to M. Fulchiron: - repair your injustice." - - "What! Was his tragedy by chance received in 1804, instead - of 1803, as I thought?" - - "No." - - "Will it be played without my knowing anything about it, as - was M. Viennet's _Arbogaste?_" - - "No, but M. Fulchiron has given his turn of favour to a - young briefless barrister, who wrote a tragedy in his spare - moments. M. Raynouard was the barrister; _Les Templiers_ was - the tragedy." - - "Are you telling me the truth?" - - "I am going to give you proof of it." - - "How will you do that?" - - "Come upstairs with me to the archives." - - "Show me the way." - - Régnier walked in front and I followed him as Dante's - Barbariceia followed Scarmiglione, but without making so - much noise as he. - - Five minutes later, we were among the archives, and - Régnier asked M. Laugier, the keeper of the records of the - Théâtre-Français, for the file of autograph letters from M. - Fulchiron. M. Laugier gave them to him. I was going to carry - them off, and I stretched out my hand with that intention, - when Régnier snatched them back from me as one snatches a - bit of pie-crust from a clever dog who does not yet know how - to count nine properly. - - "Well?" I asked him. - - "Wait." - - He pressed the palm of his hand on M. Fulchiron's letters, - which were encased in their yellow boards. Please note - carefully that the epithet is not a reproach; I know people - who, after fifty years of age, are yellow in a quite - different sense from that of M. Fulchiron's letter-book - backs. - - "You must know, first of all, my dear friend," continued - Régnier, "that formerly, particularly under the Empire, as - soon as they produced a new tragedy the receipts decreased." - - "I conjecture so; but I am very glad to know it officially." - - "The result is that the committee of the Comédie-Française - had great difficulty in deciding to play fresh pieces." - - "I can imagine so----" - - "A turn was therefore a precious possession." - - "A thing which had no price!" as said Lagingeole. - - "Very well, now read that letter of M. Fulchiron's." - -I took the paper from Régnier's hands and read as follows-- - - "_To the Members of the Administrative Committee of the - Comédie-Française_ - - "GENTLEMEN,--I have just learnt that the préfect has given - his permission to the _Templiers._ Desiring to do full - justice and to pay all respect to that work and to its - author, which they deserve, I hasten to tell you that I give - up my turn to the tragedy; but, at the same time, I ask - that mine shall be taken up immediately after, so that the - second tragedy which shall be played, reckoning from this - present time, shall be _one of mine_; if you will have the - kindness to give me an actual promise of this in writing, it - will confirm my definite abandonment of my turn.--I remain, - gentlemen, respectfully yours, - "FULCHIRON, fils" - - -"Ah! but," said I to Régnier, "allow me to point out to you that the -sacrifice was not great and its value was much depreciated owing to the -precautions taken by M. Fulchiron to get one of his tragedies played." - -"Wait a bit, though," resumed Régnier. "The suggestion made by M. -Fulchiron was rejected. They made him see that the injustice which -he did not wish done to himself would oppress a third party. If he -renounced his turn it would have to be a complete renunciation, and, -if M. Fulchiron fell out of rank, he must take his turn again at the -end of the file. Now this was a serious matter. Suppose all the chances -were favourable it would mean ten years at least! It must be confessed -that M. Fulchiron took but little time to reflect, considering the -gravity of the subject: then he said, "Well, gentlemen, I know the -tragedy of the _Templiers_; it is much better that it should be -performed at once; and that _Pizarre_ should not have its turn for -ten years. It was, thanks to this condescension, of which very few -authors would be capable towards a colleague, that the tragedy of the -_Templiers_ was played; and, as one knows, that tragedy was one of the -literary triumphs of the Empire. _Les Deux Gendres_ and the _Tyran -domestique_ complete the dramatic trilogy of the period. Almost as -much as eighteen hundred years ago they 'rendered to Cæsar the things -which were Cæsar's.' Why not render to M. Fulchiron the justice which -is his due?" Chateaubriand "I am not the person to refuse this," I said -to Régnier, "and I am delighted to have the opportunity to make M. -Fulchiron a public apology! M. Fulchiron did better than write a good -tragedy: he did a good deed; whilst I, by sneering at him, did a bad -action--without even the excuse of having written a good tragedy!" - - -[1] See note at end of chapter. - -[2] Like Buonaparte on 15 Vendémiaire, I was far from being able to see -clearly into my future. - -[3] I have forgotten to inscribe M. de Laville, author of -_Folliculaire_ and of _Une Journée d'Élections_, among the number of -the signers of that petition, which I have cited in another part of -these Memoirs. One of these signatories, who survives the others, has -pointed out my error to me and I here repair it. - -[4] TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.--Littré defines _un tour de faveur_ as the -decision of a theatrical committee or manager by virtue of which a -piece is given precedence over others received earlier. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - - Chateaubriand ceases to be a peer of France--He leaves - the country--Béranger's song thereupon--Chateaubriand as - versifier--First night of _Charles VII._--Delafosse's - vizor--Yaqoub and Frédérick-Lemaître--_The Reine - d'Espagne_--M. Henri de Latouche--His works, talent and - character--Interlude of _The Reine d'Espagne_--Preface of - the play--Reports of the pit collected by the author - - -People were very full at this time of the resignation and exile -of Chateaubriand, both of which were voluntary acts. The previous -government had caused his dismissal from the French peerage, by -reason of its abolition of heredity in the peerage. The author of the -_Martyrs_ exiled himself because the uproar caused by his opposition -became daily less evident and he feared that it would die away -altogether. - -"Do you know, madame, that Chateaubriand is growing deaf?" I said once -to Madame O'Donnel, a witty woman, the sister and daughter of witty -women. - -"Indeed!" she replied, "then it is since people have stopped talking -about him." - -It must be confessed that a terrible conspiracy, that of silence, was -on foot against Chateaubriand, who had not the strength to bear it. He -hoped that the echo of his great reputation, which once upon a time had -nearly as much weight in the world as Napoléon's, would spread abroad. -The newspapers made a great stir about this voluntary exile. Béranger -made it the subject of one of his short poems, and he, Voltairian -and Liberal, addressed lines to the author of _Atala, René_ and the -_Martyrs_, a Catholic and Royalist. This poem of Béranger's it will be -remembered began with these four lines-- - - "Chateaubriand, pourquoi fuir la patrie, - Fuir notre amour, notre encens et nos soins? - N'entends-tu pas la France qui s'écrie: - 'Mon beau ciel pleure une étoile de moins!'" - -Chateaubriand had the good taste to reply in prose. The best verses -are very far below Béranger's worst. It was one of the obsessions of -Chateaubriand's life that he made such bad verses and he persisted -in making them. He shared this eccentricity with Nodier: these two -geniuses of modern prose were haunted by the demon of rhyme. Happily -people will forget _Moïse_ and the _Contes en vers_, just as one has -forgotten that Raphael played the violin. While Béranger sang, and -Chateaubriand retired to Lucerne,--where eight or ten months later, -I was to help him to _feed his chickens_,--the day for the first -performance of _Charles VII._ arrived, 20 October. - -I have already said what I thought of the merits of my play: as poetry, -it was a great advance upon _Christine_; as a dramatic work it was an -imitation of _Andromaque_, the _Cid_ and the _Camargo._ Ample justice -was done to it: it had a great success and did not bring in a sou! -Let us here state, in passing, that when it was transferred to the -Théâtre-Français, it was performed twenty or twenty-five times, and -made a hundred louis at each performance. The same thing happened -later with regard to the _Demoiselles de Saint-Cyr._ That comedy, -represented in 1842 or 1843 with creditable but not every remunerative -success--although it then had Firmin, Mesdemoiselles Plessy and -Anaïs as its exponents--had, at its revival, six years later, twice -the number of performances which it had had when it was a novelty, -making an incredible amount of money during its odd Saint Martin's -summer. But let us return to _Charles VII._ We have mentioned what -success the work met with; a comic incident very nearly compromised -it. Delafosse, one of the most conscientious comedians I ever knew, -played the part of Charles VII. As I have said, Harel did not want to -go to any expense over the play (this time, indeed, he acted like a -wise man); to such a degree that I had been obliged, as is known, to -borrow a fifteenth-century suit of armour from the Artillery Museum; -this cuirass was, on a receipt from me, taken to the property room -at the Odéon; there, the theatrical armourer had occasion,--not to -clean it, for it shone like silver,--but to oil the springs and joints -in order to bring back the suppleness which they had lost during a -state of rigidity that had endured for four centuries. By degrees, -the obliging cuirass was, indeed, made pliable, and Delafosse, whose -shell at the proper moment it was to become, was able, although in an -iron sheath, to stretch out his legs and move his arms. The helmet -alone declined all concessions; its vizor had probably not been -raised since the coronation of Charles VII.; and, having seen such a -solemnity as this it absolutely refused to be lowered. Delafosse, a -conscientious man, as I have already indicated, looked with pain upon -the obstinacy of his vizor, which, during the whole time of his long -war-like speech did him good service by remaining raised, but which, -when the speech was ended, and he was going off the stage, would give -him when lowered a formidable appearance, upon which he set great -store. The armourer was called and, after many attempts, in which he -used in turn both gentle and coercive measures, oil and lime, he got -the wretched vizor to consent to be lowered. But, when this end was -achieved, it was almost as difficult a task to raise it again as it -had been to lower it. In lowering, it slipped over a spring, made in -the head of a nail, which, after several attempts, found an opening, -resumed its working, and fixed the vizor in such a way that neither -sword nor lance-thrusts could raise it again; this spring had to be -pressed with a squire's dagger before it could be pushed back again -into its socket, and permit the vizor to be raised. Delafosse troubled -little about this difficulty; he went out with lowered vizor and -his squire had plenty of time to perform the operation in the green -room. Had Henri II. but worn such a vizor he would not have died at -the hand of Montgomery! Behold on what things the fate of empires -depend! I might even say the same about the fate of plays! Henri II. -was killed because his vizor was raised. Charles VII. avoided this -because his vizor remained lowered. In the heat of delivery, Delafosse -made so violent a gesture that the vizor fell of itself, yielding, -doubtless, to the emotion that it felt. This may have been its manner -of applauding. Whatever the cause, Delafosse suddenly found himself -completely prevented from continuing his discourse. The lines began in -the clearest fashion imaginable; they were emphasised most plainly, -but ended in a lugubrious and unintelligible bellowing. The audience -naturally began to laugh. It is said that it is impossible for our -closest friend to refrain from laughter when he sees us fall. It is -no laughing matter, I can tell you, when a play fails, but my best -friends began to laugh. Luckily, the squire of King Charles VII., or, -rather, Delafosse's super (whichever you like), did not forget on the -stage the part he played behind the scenes; he rushed forward, dagger -in hand, on the unfortunate king; the public only saw in the accident -that had just happened a trick of the stage and, in the action of -the super, a fresh-incident. The laughter ceased and the audience -remained expectant. The result of the pause was that in a few seconds -the vizor rose again, and showed Charles VII., as red as a peony and -very nearly stifled. The play concluded without any other accident. -Frédérick-Lemaître was angry with me for a long time because I did not -give him the part of Yaqoub; but he was certainly mistaken about the -character of that personage, whom he took for an Othello. The sole -resemblance between Othello and Yaqoub lies in the colour of the face; -the colour of the soul, if one may be allowed to say so, is wholly -different. I should have made Othello--and I should have been very -proud of it if I had!--jealous, violent, carried away by his passions, -a man of initiative and of will-power, leader of the Venetian galleys; -an Othello with flattened nose, thick lips, prominent cheek-bones, -frizzy hair; an Othello, more negro than Arab, should I have given -to Frédérick. But my Othello, or, rather, my Yaqoub was more Arab -than negro, a child of the desert, swarthy complexioned rather than -black, with straight nose, thin lips, and smooth and flat hair; a sort -of lion, taken from his mother's breast and carried off from the red -and burning sands of the Sahara to the cold and damp flagstones of a -château in the West; in the darkness and cold he becomes enervated, -languid, poetical. It was the fine, aristocratic and rather sickly -nature of Lockroy which really suited the part. And, according to -my thinking, Lockroy played it admirably. The day after the first -performance of _Charles VII._ I received a good number of letters -of congratulation. The play had just enough secondary merit not to -frighten anybody, and brought me the compliments of people who, whether -unable or unwilling to pay them any longer to Ancelot, felt absolutely -obliged to pay them to somebody. - -Meanwhile, the Théâtre-Français was preparing a play which was to cause -a much greater flutter than my poor _Charles VII._ This was the _Reine -d'Espagne_, by Henri de Latouche. M. de Latouche,--to whom we shall -soon have to devote our attention in connection with the appearance -upon our literary horizon of Madame Sand,--was a sort of hermit, -who lived at the Vallée-aux-Loups. The name of the hermitage quite -sufficiently describes the hermit. M. de Latouche was a man of genuine -talent; he has published a translation of Hoffmann's _Cardillac_, and -a very remarkable Neapolitan novel. The translation--M. de Latouche -obliterated the name on his stolen linen--was called _Olivier Brusson_; -the Neapolitan novel was called _Fragoletta._ The novel is an obscure -work, badly put together, but certain parts of it are dazzling in their -colour and truth; it is the reflection of the Neapolitan sun upon the -rocks of Pausilippe. The Parthenopean Revolution is described therein -in all its horrors, with the bloodthirsty and unblushing nakedness of -the peoples of the South. M. de Latouche had, besides, rediscovered, -collected and published the poetry of André Chénier. He easily made -people believe that these poems were if not quite all his own, at least -in a great measure his. We will concede that M. Henri de Latouche -concocted a hemistich here and there where it was wanting, and joined -up a rhyme which the pen had forgotten to connect, but that the verses -of André Chénier are by M. de Latouche we will not grant! - -We only knew M. de Latouche slightly; at the same time, we do not -believe that there was so great a capacity for the renunciation of -glory on his part as this, that he gave to André Chénier, twenty-five -years after the death of the young poet, that European reputation from -which he was able to enrich himself. Yet M. de Latouche wrote very -fine verse; Frédérick Soulié, who was then on friendly terms with him, -told me at times that his poetry was of marvellous composition and -supreme originality. In short, M. de Latouche, a solitary misanthrope, -a harsh critic, a capricious friend, had just written a five-act -prose comedy upon the most immodest subject in France and Spain; not -content with shaking the bells of Comus, as said the members of the -Caveau, he rang a full peal on the bells of the theatre of the rue de -Richelieu. This comedy took for its theme the impotence of King Charles -II., and for plot, the advantage accruing to Austria supposing the -husband of Marie-Louise d'Orléans produced a child, and the advantage -to France supposing his wife did not have one. As may be seen it was a -delicate subject. It must be admitted that M. de Latouche's redundant -imagination had found a way of skating over the risks of danger which -threatened ordinary authors. When one act is finished it is usually the -same with the author as with the sufferer put to the rack: he has a -rest, but lives in expectation of fresh tortures to follow. But M. de -Latouche would not allow himself any moments of repose; he substituted -Interludes between the acts. We will reproduce verbatim the interlude -between the second and the third act. It is needless to explain the -situation: the reader will easily guess that, thanks to the efforts of -the king's physician, Austria is on the way to triumph over France. - - "INTERLUDE - - "The personages go out, and after a few minutes interval, - the footlights are lowered; night descends. The - Chamberlain, preceded by torches, appears at the door - of the Queen's apartment, and knocks upon it with his - sword-hilt; the head lady-in-waiting comes to the door. They - whisper together; the Chamberlain disappears; then, upon a - sign from the head lady-in-waiting, the Queen's women arrive - successively and ceremoniously group themselves around their - chief. A young lady-in-waiting holds back the velvet curtain - over the Queen's bedroom. The king's cortège advances; two - pages precede his Majesty, holding upon rich cushions the - king's sword and the king's breeches. His Majesty is in his - night attire of silk, embroidered with gold flowers, edged - with ermine; two crowns are embroidered on the lapels. - Charles II. wears, carried on a sash, the blue ribbon - of France, in honour of the niece of Louis XIV. While - passing in front of the line of courtiers, he makes sundry - gestures of recognition, pleasure and satisfaction, and the - recipients of these marks of favour express their delight. - Charles II. stops a moment: according to etiquette he has - to hand the candlestick borne by one of the officers to one - of the Queen's ladies. His Majesty chooses at a glance the - prettiest girl and indicates this favour by a gesture. Two - ladies receives the breeches and the sword from the hands - of the pages, the others allow the King to pass and quickly - close up their ranks. When the curtain has fallen behind - his Majesty, the nurse cries, _Vive le roi!_ This cry is - repeated by all those present. A symphony, which at first - solemnly began with the air of the _Folies d'Espagne_, ends - the concert with a serenade." - -The work was performed but once and it has not yet been played in -its entirety. From that very night M. de Latouche withdrew his play. -But, although the public forgot his drama, M. de Latouche was of too -irascible and too vindictive a nature to let the public forget it. He -did pretty much what M. Arnault did: he appealed from the performance -to the printed edition; only, he did not dedicate the _Reine d'Espagne_ -to the prompter. People had heard too much of what the actors had said, -from the first word to the last; the play failed through a revolt -of modesty and morality, and so the author contested the question -of indecency and immorality. We will reproduce the preface of our -fellow-dramatist de Latouche. As annalist we relate the fact; as -keeper of archives, we find room for the memorandum in our archives.[1] - -The protest he made was not enough; he followed it up by pointing out, -in the printed play, every fluctuation of feeling shown in the pit and -even in the boxes. Thus, one finds successively the following notes at -the foot of his pages-- - - .·. Here they begin to cough. - - .·. Whispers. The piece is attacked by persons as - thoroughly informed beforehand as the author of the risks of - this somewhat novel situation. - -As a matter of fact, the situation was so novel, that the public would -not allow it to grow old. - - - .·. Here the whispers redouble. - - .·. The pit rises divided between two opinions. - - .·. This detail of manners, accurately historic, excites - lively disapproval. - -See, at page 56 of the play, the detail of manners. - - - .·. Uproar. - - .·. A pretty general rising caused by a chaste - interpretation suggested by the pit. - -See page 72, for the suggestion of this chaste interpretation. - - .·. Prolonged, _Oh! oh!'s._ - - .·. They laugh. - - .·. They become indignant. _A voice_: "It takes two to make - a child!" - - .·. Interruption. - - .·. Movement of disapprobation; the white hair of the old - monk should, however, put aside all ideas of indecency in - this interview. - - .·. Deserved disapproval. - - .·. The sentence is cut in two by an obscene interruption. - -See the sentence, on page 115. - - .·. Disapproval. - - .·. After this scene (_the seventh of the fourth act_) the - piece, scarcely listened to at all, was not criticised any - further. - -This was the only attempt M. de Latouche made at the theatre, and, from -that time onwards, la Vallée-aux-Loups more than ever deserved its name. - -[1] See end of volume. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - - Victor Escousse and Auguste Lebras - - -Meanwhile, the drama of _Pierre III._ by the unfortunate Escousse was -played at the Théâtre-Français. I did not see _Pierre III._; I tried -to get hold of it to read it, but it seems that the drama has not been -printed. - -This is what Lesur said about it in his _Annuaire_ for 1831-- - - "THÉÂTRE-FRANÇAIS (28 _December._)--First performance - of _Pierre III._, a drama in five acts; in verse, by M. - Escousse. - - "The failure of this work dealt a fatal blow to its author; - carried away, as he probably was, with the success of - _Farruck le Maure._ In _Pierre III._, neither history, nor - probability, nor reason, was respected. It was a deplorable - specimen of the fanatical and uncouth style of literature - (these two epithets are my own), made fashionable by men - possessed of too real a talent for their example not to - cause many lamentable imitations. But who could suspect that - the author's life was bound up in his work? Yet one more - trial, one more failure and the unhappy young man was to - die!..." - -And, indeed, Victor Escousse and Auguste Lebras in collaboration -soon put on at the Gaieté the drama of _Raymond_, which also failed. -Criticism must have been cruelly incensed against this drama, since we -find, after the last words of the play, a postscript containing these -few lines, signed by one of the authors-- - - "P.S.--This work roused much criticism against us, and - it must be admitted, few people have made allowances for - two poor young fellows, the oldest of whom is scarcely - twenty, in the attempt which they made to create an - interesting situation with five characters, rejecting all - the accessories of melodrama. But I have no intention of - seeking to defend ourselves. I simply wish to proclaim the - gratitude that I owe to Victor Escousse, who, in order to - open the way for my entry into theatrical circles, admitted - me to collaboration with himself; I also wish to defend - him, as far as it is in my power, against the calumnious - statements which are openly made against his character as a - man; imputing a ridiculous vanity to him which I have never - noticed in him. I say it publicly, I have nothing but praise - to give him in respect of his behaviour towards me, not only - as collaborator, but still more as a friend. May these few - words, thus frankly written, soften the darts which hatred - has been pleased to hurl against a young man whose talent, I - hope, will some day stifle the words of those who attack him - without knowing him! AUGUSTE LEBRAS" - -Yet Escousse had so thoroughly understood the fact that with success -would come struggle, and with the amelioration of material position -would come a recrudescence in moral suffering, that, after the success -in _Farruck le Maure_, when he left his little workman's room to take -rather more comfortable quarters as an honoured author, he addressed -to that room, the witness of his first emotions as poet and lover, the -lines here given-- - - À MA CHAMBRE - - "De mon indépendance, - Adieu, premier séjour, - Où mon adolescence - A duré moins d'un jour! - Bien que peu je regrette - Un passé déchirant, - Pourtant, pauvre chambrette, - Je vous quitte en pleurant! - - Du sort, avec courage, - J'ai subi tous les coups; - Et, du moins, mon partage - N'a pu faire un jaloux. - La faim, dans ma retraite, - M'accueillait en rentrant ... - Pourtant, pauvre chambrette, - Je vous quitte en pleurant! - - Au sein de la détresse, - Quand je suçais mon lait, - Une tendre maîtresse - Point ne me consolait, - Solitaire couchette - M'endormait soupirant ... - Pourtant, pauvre chambrette, - Je vous quitte en pleurant! - - De ma muse, si tendre, - Un Dieu capricieux - Ne venait point entendre - Le sons ambitieux. - Briller pour l'indiscrète, - Est besoin dévorant ... - Pourtant, pauvre chambrette, - Je vous quitte en pleurant! - - Adieu! le sort m'appelle - Vers un monde nouveau; - Dans couchette plus belle, - J'oublîrai mon berceau. - Peut-être, humble poète - Lion de vous sera grand ... - Pourtant, pauvre chambrette, - Je vous quitte en pleurant!" - -In fact, that set of apartments which Escousse had taken in place of -his room, and where, it will be seen, he had not installed himself -without pain, saw him enter on 18 February, with his friend Auguste -Lebras, followed by the daughter of the porter, who was carrying -a bushel of charcoal. He had just bought this charcoal from the -neighbouring greengrocer. While the woman was measuring it out, he said -to Lebras-- - -"Do you think a bushel is enough?" - -"Oh, yes!" replied the latter. - -They paid, and asked that the charcoal might be sent at once. The -porter's daughter left the bushel of charcoal in the anteroom at their -request, and went away, little supposing she had just shut in Death -with the two poor lads. Three days before, Escousse had taken the -second key of his room from the portress on purpose to prevent any -hindrance to this pre-arranged plan. The two friends separated. The -same night Escousse wrote to Lebras-- - - "I expect you at half-past eleven; the curtain will be - raised. Come, so that we may hurry on the _dénoûment!_" - -Lebras came at the appointed hour; he had no thought of failing to keep -the appointment: the fatal thought of suicide had been germinating for -a long while in his brain. The charcoal was already lit. They stuffed -up the doors and windows with newspapers. Then Escousse went to a table -and wrote the following note:-- - - "Escousse has killed himself because he does not feel he has - any place in this life; because his strength fails him at - every step he takes forwards or backwards; because fame does - not satisfy his soul, _if soul there be!_ - - "I desire that the motto of my book may be-- - - "'Adieu, trop inféconde terre, - Fléaux humains, soleil glacé! - Comme un fantôme solitaire, - Inaperçu j'aurai passé. - Adieu, les palmes immortelles, - Vrai songe d'une âme de feu! - L'air manquait: J'ai fermé mes ailes, Adieu!'" - - -This, as we have said, took place at half-past eleven. At -midnight, Madame Adolphe, who had just been acting at the Théâtre -Porte-Saint-Martin, returned home; she lodged on the same floor as -Escousse, and the young man's suite of rooms was only separated from -her's by a partition. A strange sound seemed to her to come from -those rooms. She listened: she thought she heard a twofold noise as -of raucous breathing. She called, she knocked on the partition, but -she did not obtain any reply. Escousse's father also lived on the same -floor, on which four doors opened; these four doors belonged to the -rooms of Escousse, his father, Madame Adolphe and Walter, an actor I -used to know well at that time, but of whom I have since lost sight. -Madame Adolphe ran to the father of Escousse, awakened him (for he was -already asleep), made him get up and come with her to listen to the -raucous breathing which had terrified her. It had decreased, but was -still audible; audible enough for them to hear the dismal sound of two -breathings. The father listened for a few seconds; then he laughingly -said to Madame Adolphe, "You jealous woman!" And he went off to bed not -wishing to listen to her observations any further. - -Madame Adolphe remained by herself. Until two o'clock in the morning -she heard this raucous sound to which she alone persisted in giving its -true significance. Incredulous though Escousse's father had been, he -was haunted by dismal presentiments all night long. About eight o'clock -next morning he went and knocked at his son's door. No one answered. -He listened; all was silent. Then the idea came to him that Escousse -was at the Vauxhall baths, to which the young man sometimes went. He -went to Walter's rooms, told him what had passed during the night, and -of his uneasiness in the morning. Walter offered to run to Vauxhall, -and the offer was accepted. At Vauxhall, Escousse had not been seen by -anyone. The father's uneasiness increased; it was nearly his office -hour, but he could not go until he was reassured by having his son's -door opened. A locksmith was called in and the door was broken open -with difficulty, for the key which had locked it from the inside was -in the keyhole. The key being still in the lock frightened the poor -father to such an extent that, when the door was open, he did not dare -to cross the threshold. It was Walter who entered, whilst he remained -leaning against the staircase bannisters. The inner door was, as we -have said, stuffed up, but not closed either with bolt or key; Walter -pushed it violently, broke through the obstructing paper and went in. -The fumes of the charcoal were still so dense that he nearly fell back. -Nevertheless, he penetrated into the room, seized the first object to -hand, a water-bottle, I believe, and hurled it at the window. A pane -of glass was broken by the crash, and gave ingress to the outer air. -Walter could now breathe, and he went to the window and opened it. - -Then the terrible spectacle revealed itself to him in all its fearful -nakedness. The two young men were lying dead: Lebras on the floor, -upon a mattress which he had dragged from the bed; Escousse on the bed -itself. Lebras, of weakly constitution and feeble health, had easily -been overcome by death; but with his companion it had been otherwise; -strong and full of health, the struggle had been long and must have -been cruel; at least, this was what was indicated by his legs drawn -up under his body and his clenched hands, with the nails driven into -the flesh. The father nearly went out of his mind. Walter often told -me that he should always see the two poor youths, one on his mattress, -the other on his bed. Madame Adolphe did not dare to keep her rooms: -whenever she woke in the night, she thought she could hear the -death-rattle, which the poor father had taken for the sighs of lovers! - -The excellent elegy which this suicide inspired Béranger to write is -well-known; we could wish our readers had forgotten that we had given -them part of it when we were speaking of the famous song-writer: that -would have allowed us to quote the whole of it here; but how can -they have forgotten that we have already fastened that rich poetic -embroidery on to our rags of prose? - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - - First performance of _Robert le Diable_--Véron, manager - of the Opéra--His opinion concerning Meyerbeer's - music--My opinion concerning Véron's intellect--My - relations with him--His articles and _Memoirs_--Rossini's - judgment of _Robert le Diable_--Nourrit, the - preacher--Meyerbeer--First performance of the _Fuite de - Law_, by M. Mennechet--First performance of _Richard - Darlington_--Frédérick-Lemaître--Delafosse--Mademoiselle - Noblet - - -Led away into reminiscences of Escousse and of Lebras, whom we followed -from the failure of _Pierre III._ to the day of their death, from the -evening of 28 December 1831, that is, to the night of 18 February 1832, -we have passed over the first performances of _Richard Darlington_ and -even of _Térésa._ Let us go back a step and return to the night of 21 -October, at one o'clock in the morning, to Nourrit's dressing room, -who had just had a fall from the first floor of the Opéra owing to an -ill-fitting trap-door. - -The first representation of _Robert le Diable_ had just been given. -It would be a curious thing to write the history of that great opera, -which nearly failed at the first representation, now reckons over -four hundred performances and is the _doyen_ of all operas now born -and, probably, yet to be born. At first, Véron, who had passed from -the management of the _Revue de Paris_ to that of the Opéra, had from -the first hearing of Meyerbeer's work,--in full rehearsal since its -acceptance at the theatre of the rue Lepeletier,--declared that he -thought the score detestable, and that he would only play it under -compulsion or if provided with a sufficient indemnity. The government, -which had just made, with respect to that new management, one of the -most scandalous contracts which have ever existed; the government, -which at that period gave a subsidy to the Opéra of nine hundred -thousand francs, thought Véron's demand quite natural; and convinced, -with him, that the music of _Robert le Diable_ was execrable, gave -to its well-beloved manager sixty or eighty thousand francs subsidy -for playing a work which now provides at least a third of the fifty -or sixty thousand francs income which Véron enjoys. Does not this -little anecdote prove that the tradition of putting a man at the -Opéra who knows nothing about music goes back to an epoch anterior -to the nomination of Nestor Roqueplan,--who, in his letters to Jules -Janin, boasts that he does not know the value of a semibreve or the -signification of a natural? No, it proves that Véron is a speculator -of infinite shrewdness, and that his refusal to play Meyerbeer's opera -was a clever speculation. Now, does Véron prefer that we should say -that he was not learned in music? Let him correct our statement. It -is common knowledge with what respect we submit to correction. There -is one point concerning which we will not admit correction: namely, -what we have just said about Véron's intellect. What we here state -we have repeated a score of times _speaking to him in person,_ as a -certain class of functionaries has it. Véron is a clever man, even -a very clever man, and it would not be doubted if he had not the -misfortune to be a millionaire. Véron and I were never on very friendly -terms; he has never, I believe, had a high opinion of my talent. As -editor of the _Revue de Paris_ he never asked me for a single article; -as manager of the Opéra, he has never asked me for anything but a -single poem for Meyerbeer, and that on condition I wrote the poem in -collaboration with Scribe; which nearly landed me in a quarrel with -Meyerbeer and wholly in one with Scribe. Finally, as manager of the -_Constitutionnel_, he only made use of me when the success which I had -obtained on the _Journal des Débats_, the _Siècle_ and the _Presse_ had -in some measure forced his hand. Our engagement lasted three years. -During those three years we had a lawsuit which lasted three months; -then, finally, we amicably broke the contract, when I had still some -twenty volumes to give him, and at the time of this rupture I owed him -six thousand francs. It was agreed that I should give Véron twelve -thousand lines for these six thousand francs. Some time after, Véron -sold the _Constitutionnel._ For the first journal that Véron shall -start, he can draw upon me for twelve thousand lines, at twelve days' -sight: on the thirteenth day the signature shall be honoured. Our -position with regard to Véron being thoroughly established, we repeat -that it is Véron's millions which injure his reputation. How can it be -admitted that a man can both possess money and intellect? The thing is -impossible! - -"But," it will be urged, "if Véron is a clever man, who writes his -articles? Who composes his _Memoirs?_" - -Some one else will reply--"He did not; they are written by Malitourne." - -I pay no regard to what may lie underneath. When the articles or the -_Memoirs_ are signed Véron, both articles and _Memoirs_ are by Véron -so far as I am concerned: what else can you do? It is Véron's weakness -to imagine that he can write. Good gracious! if he did not write, -his reputation as an intellectual man would be made, in spite of his -millions! But it happens that, thanks to these deuced articles and -those blessed _Memoirs_, people laugh in my face when I say that Véron -has intellect. It is in vain for me to be vexed and angry, and shout -out and appeal to people who have supped with him, good judges in the -matter of wit, to believe me; everybody replies, even those who have -not supped with him: That is all very well! You say this because you -owe M. Véron twelve thousand lines! As if because one owes a man twelve -thousand lines it were a sufficient excuse for saying that he has -intellect! Take, for example, the case of M. Tillot, of the _Siècle_, -who says that I owe him twenty-four thousand lines; at that rate, I -ought to say that he has twice as much intellect as Véron. But I do -not say so; I will content myself with saying that I do not owe him -those twenty-four thousand lines, and that he, on the contrary, owes me -something like three or four hundred thousand francs or more, certainly -not less. - -But where on earth were we? Oh! I remember! we were talking about the -first night of _Robert le Diable._ After the third act I met Rossini in -the green-room. - -"Come now, Rossini," I asked him, "what do you think of that?" - -"Vat do I zink?" replied Rossini. - -"Yes, what do you think of it?" - -"Veil, I zink zat if my best friend vas vaiting for me at ze corner of -a wood vis a pistol, and put zat pistol to my throat, zaying, 'Rossini, -zu art going to make zur best opera!' I should do it." - -"And suppose you had no one friendly enough towards you to render you -this service?" - -"Ah! in zat case all vould be at an end, and I azzure you zat I vould -never write one zingle note of music again!" - -Alas! the friend was not forthcoming, and Rossini kept his oath. - -I meditated upon these words of the illustrious maestro during the -fourth and fifth acts of _Robert_, and, after the fifth act, I went to -the stage to inquire of Nourrit if he was not hurt. I felt a strong -friendship towards Nourrit, and he, on his side, was much attached to -me. Nourrit was not only an eminent actor, he was also a delightful -man; he had but one fault: when you paid him a compliment on his acting -or on his voice, he would listen to you in a melancholy fashion, and -reply with his hand on your shoulder-- - -"Ah! my friend, I was not born to be a singer or a comedian!" - -"Indeed! Then why were you born?" - -"I was born to mount a pulpit, not a stage." - -"A pulpit!" - -"Yes." - -"And what the deuce would you do in a pulpit?" - -"I should guide humanity in the way of progress.... Oh! you misjudge -me; you do not know my real character." - -Poor Nourrit! He made a great mistake in wanting to have been or to -appear other than he was: he was a delightful player! a dignified and -noble and kindly natured man! He had taken the Revolution of 1830 very -seriously, and, for three months, he appeared every other day on the -stage of the Opéra as a National Guard, singing the _Marseillaise_, -flag in hand. Unluckily, his patriotism was sturdier than his voice, -and he broke his voice in that exercise. It was because his voice had -already become weaker that Meyerbeer put so little singing in the part -of Robert. Nourrit was in despair, not because of his failure, but -because of that of the piece. In common with everyone else, he thought -the work had failed. Meyerbeer was himself quite melancholy enough! -Nourrit introduced us to one another. Our acquaintance dates from that -night. - -Meyerbeer was a very clever man; from the first he had had the sense to -place a great fortune at the service of an immense reputation. Only, -he did not make his fortune with his reputation; it might almost be -said that he made his reputation with his fortune. Meyerbeer was never -for one instant led aside from his object,--whether he was by himself -or in society, in France or in Germany, at the table of the hotel _des -Princes_ or at the Casino at Spa,--and that object was success. Most -assuredly, Meyerbeer gave himself more trouble to achieve success than -in writing his scores. We say this because it seems to us that there -are two courses to take. Meyerbeer should leave his scores to make -their own successes; we should gain one opera out of every three. I -admire the more this quality of tenacity of purpose in a man since it -is entirely lacking in myself. I have always let managers look after -their interests and mine on first nights; and, next day, upon my word! -let people say what they like, whether good or ill! I have been working -for the stage for twenty-five years now, and writing books for as long: -I challenge a single newspaper editor to say he has seen me in his -office to ask the favour of a single puff. Perhaps in this indifference -lies my strength. In the five or six years that have just gone by, as -soon as my plays have been put on the stage, with all the care and -intelligence of which I am capable, it has often happened that I have -not been present at my first performance, but have waited to hear any -news about it that others, more curious than myself, who had been -present, should bring me. - -But at the time of _Richard Darlington_ I had not yet attained to this -high degree of philosophy. As soon as the play was finished, it had -been read to Harel, who had just left the management of the Odéon to -take up that of the Porte-Saint-Martin, and, be it said, Harel had -accepted it at once; he had immediately put it in rehearsal, and, -after a month of rehearsals, all scrupulously attended by me, we had -got to 10 December, the day fixed for the first performance. The -Théâtre-Français was in competition with us, and played the same day -_La Fuite de Law_, by M. Mennechet, ex-reader to King Charles X. In his -capacity of ex-reader to King Charles X., Mennechet was a Royalist. I -shall always recollect the sighs he heaved when he was compelled, as -editor of _Plutarque français_, to insert in it the biography of the -Emperor Napoléon. Had he been in a position to consult his own personal -feelings only, he would certainly have excluded from his publication -the Conqueror of Marengo, of Austerlitz and of Jena; but he was not -the complete master of it: since Napoléon had taken Cairo, Berlin, -Vienna and Moscow, he had surely the right to monopolise fifty or sixty -columns in the _Plutarque français._ I know something about those -sighs; for he came to ask me for that biography of Napoléon, and it was -I who drew it up. In spite of the competition of the Théâtre-Français -there was a tremendous stir over _Richard._ It was known beforehand -that the play had a political side to it of great significance, and -the feverishness of men's minds at that period made a storm out of -everything. People crushed at the doors to get tickets. At the rising -of the curtain the house seemed full to overflowing. Frédérick was -the pillar who supported the whole affair. He had supporting him, -Mademoiselle Noblet, Delafosse, Doligny and Madame Zélie-Paul. But so -great was the power of this fine dramatic genius that he electrified -everybody. Everyone in some degree was inspired by him, and by contact -with him increased his own strength without decreasing that of the -great player. Frédérick was then in the full zenith of his talent. -Unequal like Kean,--whose personality he was to copy two or three -years later,--sublime like Kean, he had the same qualities he exhibits -to-day, and, though in a lesser degree, the same defects. He was -just the same then in the relations of ordinary life,--difficult, -unsociable, capricious, as he is to-day. In other respects he was a -man of sound judgment; taking as much interest in the play as in his -own part in the suggestions he proposed, and as much interest in the -author as in himself. He had been excellent at the rehearsals. At the -performance itself he was magnificent! I do not know where he had -studied that gambler on the grand scale whom we style an ambitious man; -men of genius must study in their own hearts what they cannot know -except in dreams. Next to Frédérick, Doligny was capital in the part -of Tompson. It was to the recollection I had of him in this rôle that -the poor fellow owed, later, the sad privilege of being associated -with me in my misfortunes. Delafosse, who played Mawbray, had moments -of genuine greatness. One instance of it was where he waits at the -edge of a wood, in a fearful storm, for the passing of the post-chaise -in which Tompson is carrying off Jenny. An accident which might have -made a hitch and upset the play at that juncture was warded off by his -presence of mind. Mawbray has to kill Tompson by shooting him; for -greater security, Delafosse had taken two pistols; real stage-pistols, -hired from a gunsmith,--they both missed fire! Delafosse never lost -his head: he made a pretence of drawing a dagger from his pocket, and -killed Tompson with a blow from his fist, as he had not been able to -blow out his brains. Mademoiselle Noblet was fascinatingly tender and -loving, a charming and poetic being. In the last scene she fell so -completely under Frédérick's influence as to utter cries of genuine -not feigned terror. The fable took on all the proportions of reality -for her. The final scene was one of the most terrible I ever saw on -the stage. When Jenny asked him, "What are you going to do?" and -Richard replied, "I do not know; but pray to God!" a tremendous shudder -ran all over the house, and a murmur of fear, escaping from every -breast, became an actual shriek of terror. At the conclusion of the -second act Harel had come up to my _avant-scène_:[1]--I had the chief -_avant-scène_ by right, and from it I could view the performance as -though I were a stranger. Harel, I say, came up to entreat me to have -my name mentioned with that of Dinaux: the name, be it known, by which -Goubaux and Beudin were known on the stage. I refused. During the third -act he came up again, accompanied this time by my two collaborators, -and furnished with three bank-notes of a thousand francs each. Goubaux -and Beudin, good, excellent, brotherly hearted fellows, came to ask me -to have my name given alone. I had done the whole thing, they said, -and my right to the success was incontestable. I had done the whole -thing!--except finding the subject, except providing the outlines of -the development, except, finally, the execution of the chief scene -between the king and Richard, the scene in which I had completely -failed. I embraced them and refused. Harel offered me the three -thousand francs. He had come at an opportune moment: tears were in my -eyes, and I held a hand of each of my two friends in mine. I refused -him, but I did not embrace him. The curtain fell in the midst of -frantic applause. They called Richard before the curtain, then Jenny, -Tompson, Mawbray, the whole company. I took advantage of the spectators -being still glued to their places to go out and make for the door of -communication. I wanted to take the actors in my arms on their return -to the wings. I came across Musset in the corridor; he was very pale -and very much moved. - -"Well," I asked him; "what is the matter, my dear poet?" - -"I am suffocating!" he replied. - -It was, I think, the finest praise he could have paid the work,--the -drama of _Richard_ is, indeed, suffocating. I reached the wings in -time to shake hands with everybody. And yet I did not feel the same -emotion as on the night of _Antony!_ The success had been as great, -but the players were nothing like as dear to me. There is an abyss -between my character and habits and those of Frédérick which three -triumphs in common have not enabled either of us to bridge. What a -difference between my friendship with Bocage! Between Mademoiselle -Noblet and myself, pretty and fascinating as she was at that date, -there existed none but purely artistic relations; she interested me as -a young and beautiful person of promising future, and that was all. -What a difference, to be sure, from the double and triple feelings -with which Dorval inspired me! Although to-day the most active of -these sentiments has been extinguished these twenty years; though she -herself has been dead for four or five years, and forgotten by most -people who should have remembered her, and who did not even see her -taken to her last resting-place, her name falls constantly from my pen, -just as her memory strikes ever a pang at my heart! Perhaps it will -be said that my joy was not so great because my name remained unknown -and my personality concealed. On that head I have not even the shadow -of a regret. I can answer for it that my two collaborators were more -sadly troubled at being named alone than I at not being named at all. -_Richard_ had an immense success, and it was just that it should: -_Richard_, without question, is an excellent drama. I beg leave to be -as frank concerning myself as I am with regard to others. - -Twenty-one days after the performance of _Richard Darlington_ the year -1831 went to join its sisters in that unknown world to which Villon -relegates dead moons, and where he seeks, without finding them, the -snows of yester year. Troubled though the year had been by political -disturbances, it had been splendid for art. I had produced three -pieces,--one bad, _Napoléon Bonaparte_; one mediocre, _Charles VII._; -and one good, _Richard Darlington._ - -Hugo had put forth _Marion Delorme,_ and had published _Notre-Dame de -Paris_--something more than a _roman_, a book!--and his volume the -_Feuilles d'Automne._ - -Balzac had published the _Peau de chagrin_, one of his most irritating -productions. Once for all, my estimation of Balzac, both as a man -and as an author, is not to be relied upon: as a man, I knew him but -little, and what I did know did not rouse in me the least sympathy; -as regards his talent, his manner of composition, of creation, of -production, were so different from mine, that I am a bad judge of him, -and I condemn myself on this head, quite conscious that I can justly be -called in question. - -But to continue. Does my reader know, omitting mention of M. Comte's -theatre and of that of the Funambules, what was played in Paris from -1 January 1809 to 31 December 1831? Well, there were played 3558 -theatrical pieces, to which Scribe contributed 3358; Théaulor, 94; -Brazier, 93; Dartois, 92, Mélesville, 80; Dupin, 56; Antier, 53; -Dumersan, 55; de Courcy, 50. The whole world compared with this could -not have provided a quarter of it! Nor was painting far behind: Vernet -had reached the zenith of his talent; Delacroix and Delaroche were -ascending the upward path of theirs. Vernet had exhibited ... But -before speaking of their works, let us say a few words of the men -themselves. - - -[1] At the front of the stage.--TRANS. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - - Horace Vernet - - -Vernet was then a man of forty-two. You are acquainted with Horace -Vernet, are you not? I will not say as painter--pooh! who does not -know, indeed, the artist of the _Bataille de Montmirail_, of the -_Prise de Constantine_, of the _Déroute de la Smala?_ No, I mean as -man. You will have seen him pass a score of times, chasing the stag -or the boar, in shooting costume; or crossing the place du Carrousel, -or parading in the court of the Tuileries, in the brilliant uniform -of a staff officer. He was a handsome cavalier, a dainty, lithe, -tall figure, with sparkling eyes, high cheek-bones, a mobile face -and moustaches _à la royale Louis XIII._ Imagine him something like -d'Artagnan. For Horace looked far more like a musketeer than a painter; -or, say, like a painter of the type of Velasquez, or Van Dyck, and, -like the Cavalier Tempesta, with curled-up moustache, sword dangling -against his heels, his horse snorting forth fire from its nostrils. -The whole race of Vernets were of a similar type. Joseph Vernet, the -grandfather, had himself bound to a ship's mast during a tempest. -Karl Vernet, the father, would, I am certain, have given many things -to have been carried off, like Mazeppa, across the Steppes of Ukraine -on a furious horse, reeking with foam and blood. For, be it known, -Horace Vernet brings up the rear of a quadruple series, the latest of -four generations of painters,--he is the son of Karl, the grandson of -Joseph Vernet, the great-grandson of Antoine. Then, as though this -were not enough, his maternal ancestor was the younger Moreau, that is -to say, one of the foremost draughts-men and ablest engravers of the -eighteenth century. Antoine Vernet painted flowers upon sedan chairs. -There are two chairs painted and signed by him at Marseilles. Joseph -Vernet has adorned every museum in France with his sea pictures. He is -to Havre, Brest, Lorient, Marseilles and Toulon what Canaletto is to -Venice. - -Karl, who began by bearing off the _grand prix_ of Rome with his -composition of the _Enfant prodigue_, became, in 1786, an enthusiastic -painter of everything English. The Duc d'Orléans bought at fabulous -prices the finest of English horses. Karl Vernet became mad on horses, -drew them, painted them, made them his speciality and so became famous. -As for Horace, he was born in 1789, the year in which his grandfather -Joseph died and his father Karl was made an Academician. Born a -painter, so to say, his first steps were taken in a studio. - -"Who is your master?" I once asked him. - -"I never had one." - -"But who taught you to draw and paint?" - -"I do not know.... When I could only walk on all fours I used to pick -up pencils and paint brushes. When I found paper I drew; when I found -canvas I painted, and one fine day it was discovered that I was a -painter." - -When ten years old, Horace sold his first drawing to a merchant: it -was a tulip commissioned by Madame de Périgord. This was the first -money he had earned, twenty-four sous! And the merchant paid him these -twenty-four sous in one of those white coins that were still to be seen -about in 1816, but which we do not see now and shall probably not see -again. This happened in 1799. From that moment Horace Vernet found a -market for drawings, rough sketches and six-inch canvases. In 1811 the -King of Westphalia commissioned his first two pictures: the _Prise du -camp_ _retranché de Galatz_ and the _Prise de Breslau._ I have seen -them scores of times at King Jérome's palace; they are not your best -work, my dear Horace! But they brought him in sixteen thousand francs. -It was the first considerable sum of money he had received; it was the -first out of which he could put something aside. Then came 1812, 1813 -and 1814, and the downfall of the whole Napoléonic edifice. The world -shook to its foundations: Europe became a volcano, society seemed about -to dissolve. There was no thought of painting, or literature, or art! -What do you suppose became of Vernet, who could not then obtain for his -pictures eight thousand francs, or four thousand, or a thousand, or -five hundred, or a hundred, or even fifty? Vernet drew designs for the -_Journal des Modes_;--three for a hundred francs: 33 francs 33 centimes -each drawing! One day he showed me all these drawings, a collection of -which he kept; I counted nearly fifteen hundred of them with feelings -of profound emotion. The 33 francs 33 centimes brought to my mind my -166 francs 65 centimes,--the highest figure my salary had ever reached. -Vernet was a child of the Revolution; but as a young man he knew only -the Empire. An ardent Bonapartist in 1815, more fervent still, perhaps, -in 1816, he gave many sword strokes and sweeps of the paint brush in -honour of Napoléon, both exercised as secretly as possible. In 1818, -the Duc d'Orléans conceived the idea of ordering Vernet to paint -pictures for him. The suggestion was transmitted to the painter on the -prince's behalf. - -"Willingly," said the painter, "but on condition that they shall be -military pictures." - -The prince accepted. - -"That the pictures," added the painter, "shall be of the time of the -Republic and of the Empire." - -Again the prince acceded. - -"Finally," added the painter, "on condition that the soldiers of the -Empire and of the Revolution shall wear tricolor cockades." - -"Tell M. Vernet," replied the prince to this, "that he can put the -first cockade in my hat." - -And as a matter of fact the Duc d'Orléans decided that the first -picture which Vernet should execute for him should be of himself as -Colonel of Dragoons, saving a poor refractory priest: a piece of good -fortune which befell the prince in 1792, and which has been related -by us at length in our _Histoire de Louis Philippe._ Horace Vernet -painted the picture and had the pleasure of putting the first tricolor -cockade ostentatiously on the helmet. About this time the Duc de Berry -urgently desired to visit the painter's studio, whose reputation grew -with the rapidity of the giant Adamastor. But Vernet did not love the -Bourbons, especially those of the Older Branch. With the Duc d'Orléans -it was different; he had been a Jacobin. Horace refused admission to -his studio to the son of Charles X. - -"Oh! Good gracious!" said the Duc de Berry, "if in order to be received -by M. Vernet it is but a question of putting on a tricolor cockade, -tell him that, although I do not wear M. Laffitte's colours at my -heart, I will put them in my hat, if it must be so, the day I enter his -house." - -The suggestion did not come to anything either, because the painter did -not accede to it; or because, the painter having acceded to it, the -prince declined to submit to such an exacting condition. - -In less than eighteen months Vernet painted for the Duc d'Orléans--the -condition concerning the tricolor cockades being always respected--the -fine series of pictures which constitute his best work: _Montmirail_, -in which he puts more than tricolor cockades, namely, the Emperor -himself riding away into the distance on his white horse; _Hanau, -Jemappes_ and _Valmy._ But all these tricolor cockades, which blossomed -on Horace's canvases like poppies, cornflowers and marguerites in a -meadow, and above all, that detestable white horse, although it was no -bigger than a pin's head, frightened the government of Louis XVIII. -The exhibition of 1821 declined Horace Vernet's pictures. The artist -held an exhibition at his own house, and had a greater success by -himself than the two thousand painters had who exhibited at the Salon. -This was the time of his great popularity. No one was allowed at that -period, not even his enemies, to dispute his talent. Vernet was more -than a celebrated painter: he belonged to the nation, representing -in the world of art the spirit of opposition which was beginning to -make the reputations of Béranger and of Casimir Delavigne in the -world of poetry. He lived in the rue de la Tour-des-Dames. All that -quarter had just sprung into being; it was the artists' quarter. Talma, -Mademoiselle Mars, Mademoiselle Duchesnois, Arnault lived there. It -was called _La Nouvelle Athènes._ They all carried on the spirit of -opposition in their own particular ways: Mademoiselle Mars with her -violets, M. Arnault with his stories, Talma with his Sylla wig, Horace -Vernet with his tricolor cockades, Mademoiselle Duchesnois with what -she could. One consecration was still lacking in the matter of Horace -Vernet's popularity; he obtained it, that is to say, he was appointed -director of the École Française at Rome. Perhaps this was a means of -getting him sent away from Paris. But the exile, if such it was, looked -so much more like an honour that Vernet accepted it with joy. Criticism -grumbled a little;--it was the time of the raising of Voices!--Some -complained in the hoarse notes, others in the screaming tones which -are the peculiar property of the envious, exclaiming that it was -rather a risk to send to Rome the propagator of tricolor cockades, -and rather a bold stroke to bring into juxtaposition _Montmirail_ and -_The Transfiguration_, Horace Vernet and Raphael; but these voices -were drowned in the universal acclamation which hailed the honour -done to our national painter. It was certainly not Vernet's enemies -who should have indulged in recrimination; but rather his friends who -should have felt afraid. In fact, when Horace Vernet found himself -confronted with the masterpieces of the sixteenth century, even as -Raphael when led into the Sistine Chapel by Bramante, he was seized -with a spasm of doubt. The whole of his education as a painter was -called in question. He felt he had been self-deceived for thirty years -of his life;--at the age of thirty-two, Horace had already been a -painter for thirty years!--he asked himself whether, instead of those -worthy full-length soldiers, clad in military capot and shako, he -was not destined to paint naked giants; the _Iliad_ of Homer instead -of the _Iliad_ of Napoléon. The unhappy painter set himself to paint -great pictures. The Roman school was in a flourishing state upon his -arrival--Vernet succeeded to Guérin;--under Vernet it became splendid. -The indefatigable artist, the never-ceasing creator, communicated a -portion of his fecund spirit to all those young minds. Like a sun he -lighted up and warmed throughout and ripened everything with his rays. -One year after his arrival in Rome he must needs erect an exhibition -hall in the garden of the École. Féron, from whom the institute asked -an eighteen-inch sketch, gave a twenty-feet picture, the _Passage des -Alpes_; Debay gave the _Mort de Lucrèce_; Bouchot, a _Bacchanale_; -Rivière, a _Peste apaisée par les prières du pape._ Sculptors created -groups of statuary, or at the least statues, instead of statuettes; -Dumont sent _Bacchus aux bras de sa nourrice_; Duret, the _Invention de -la Lyre._ It was such an outpouring of productions that the Academy was -frightened. It complained that the École de Rome _produced too much._ -This was the only reproach they had to bring against Vernet during his -Ultramontane Vice-regency. He himself worked as hard as a student, -two students, ten students. He sent his _Raphael et Michel-Ange_, his -_Exaltation du pape_, his _Arrestation du prince de Condé_, his ... -Happily for Horace, I cannot recollect any more he sent in at that -period. - -I repeat once more, the sight of the old masters had upset all his -old ideas;--in the slang of the studio, Horace splashed about. I say -this because I am quite certain that it is his own opinion. If it -is possible that Horace could turn out any bad painting--if he has -ever done so--and he alone has the right to say this--is it not the -fact, dear Horace, that the bad painting which many artists point out -with glee and triumph was done in Rome. But this period of relative -inferiority for Horace, which was only below his own average in -painting in what is termed the "grand style," was not without its -profit to the artist; he drank the wine of life from its main source, -the eternal spring! He returned to France strengthened by a force -invisible to all, unrealised by himself, and after seven years spent in -the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel and the Farnesina, he found himself -more at ease among his barracks and battlefields, which many people -said, and said wrongly, that he ought not to have quitted. - -Ah! Horace led a fine life, dashing through Europe on horseback, across -Africa on a dromedary, over the Mediterranean in a ship! A glorious, -noble and loyal life at which criticism may scoff, but in respect of -which no reproach can be uttered by France. - -Now, during this year--_nous revenons à nos moutons_, as M. Berger puts -it--Horace sent two pictures from Rome, namely, those we have mentioned -already: the _Exaltation du pape_, one of the best of his worst -pictures, and the _Arrestation du prince de Condé_, one of the best of -his best pictures. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - - Paul Delaroche - - -Delaroche exhibited his three masterpieces at the Salon of 1831: the -_Enfants d'Édouard_; _Cinq-mars et de Thou remontant le Rhône à la -remorque du Cardinal de Richelieu_, and the _Jeu du Cardinal de Mazarin -à son lit de mort._ - -It is hardly necessary to say that of these three pictures we prefer -the _Cinq-mars et de Thou remontant le Rhône._ - -The biography of the eminent artist will not be long. His is not an -eccentric character, nor one of those impetuous temperaments which seek -adventures. He did not have his collar-bone broken when he was fifteen, -three ribs staved in at thirty, and his head cut open at forty-five, -as did Vernet; he does not expose his body in every political quarrel; -his recreations are not those of fencing, horse-riding and shooting. -He rests from work by dreaming, and not by some fresh fatiguing -occupation; for although his work is masterly, it is heavy, laboured -and melancholy. Instead of saying before Heaven openly, when showing -his pictures to men and thanking God for having given him the power -to paint them, "Behold, I am an artist! Vivent Raphaël and Michael -Angelo!" he conceals them, he hides them, he withdraws them from sight, -murmuring, "Ah! I was not made for brush, canvas and colours: I was -made for political and diplomatic career. Vivent M. de Talleyrand and -M. de Metternich!" Oh! how unhappy are those spirits, those restless -souls, who do one thing and torment themselves with the everlasting -anxiety that they were created to do something else. - -In 1831, Paul Delaroche was thirty-four, and just about at the height -of his strength and his talent. He was the second son of a pawnbroker. -He early entered the studio of Gros, who was then in the zenith of his -fame, and who, after his beautiful pictures of _Jaffa, Aboukir_ and -_Eylau_, was about to undertake the gigantic dome of the Panthéon. He -made genuine and rapid advance in harmony with the design and taste of -the master. Nevertheless, Delaroche began with landscape. His brother -painted historical subjects, and the father did not wish both his two -sons to apply themselves to the same kind of painting. Claude Lorraines -and Ruysdaels were accordingly the studios preferred by Paul; a woman -with whom he fell in love, and whose portrait he persisted in painting, -changed his inclinations. This portrait finished and found to be -acceptable (_bien venu_), as they say in studio language, Delaroche -was won over to the grand school of painting. He made his first -appearance in the Salon of 1822, when he was twenty-five years of age, -with a _Joas arraché du milieu des morts par Josabeth_, and a _Christ -descendu de la croix._ In 1824, he exhibited _Jeanne d'Arc interrogée -dans son cachot par le Cardinal de Winchester, Saint Vincent de Paul -prêchant pour les enfants trouvés, Saint Sébastien secouru par Irene_ -and _Filippo Lippi chargé de peindre une vierge pour une convent, et -devenant amoureux de la religieuse qui lui sert de modèle._ - -The _Jeanne d'Arc_ made a great impression. Instead of being talked of -as a painter of great promise, Delaroche was looked upon as a master -who had realised these hopes. - -In 1826 he exhibited his _Mort de Carrache, Le Prétendant sauvé -par Miss MacDonald_, the _Nuit de la Saint Barthélemy_, the _Mort -d'Élisabeth_ and the full-length portrait of the Dauphin. - -The whole world stood to gaze at Elizabeth, pallid, dying, dead already -from the waist down. I was riveted in front of the young Scotch girl, -exquisitely sympathetic and admirably romantic in feeling. _Cinq-Mars_ -and _Miss MacDonald_ were alone enough to make Delaroche a great -painter. What delicious handling there is in the latter picture, sweet, -tender, moving! What suppleness and _morbidezza_ in those golden -fifteen years, born on the wings of youth, scarcely touching the earth! -O Delaroche! you are a great painter! But if you had only painted four -pictures equal to your _Miss MacDonald_, how you would have been adored! - -In 1827, he first produced a political picture, the _Prise du -Trocadéro_; then the _Mort du Président Duranti_, a great and -magnificent canvas, three figures of the first order: the president, -his wife and his child; the figure of the child, in particular, who -is holding up--or, rather, stretching up--its hands to heaven; and -a ceiling for the Charles X. Museum, of which I will not speak, as -I do not remember it. Finally, in 1831, the period we have reached, -Delaroche exhibited _Les Enfants d'Édouard, Cinq-Mars et de Thou_, the -_Jeu de Mazarin_, the portrait of Mlle. Sontag and a _Lecture._ The -painter's reputation, as we have said, had then reached its height. You -remember those two children sitting on a bed, one sickly, the other -full of health; the little barking dog; the ray of light that comes -into the prison through the chink beneath the door. You remember the -Richelieu--ill, coughing, attenuated, with no more strength to cause -the death of others; the beautiful figure of Cinq-Mars, calm, in his -exquisite costume of white satin, pink and white under his pearl-grey -hat; the grave de Thou, in his dark dress, looking at the scaffold -in the distance, which was to assume for him so terrible an aspect -on nearer view; those guards, those rowers, the soldier eating and -the other who is spluttering in the water. The whole is exquisitely -composed and executed, full of intellect and thought, and particularly -full of skill--skill, yes! for Delaroche _par excellence_ is the -dexterous painter. He possesses the expertness of Casimir Delavigne, -with whom he has all kinds of points of resemblance, although, in our -opinion, he strikes us as being stronger, as a painter, than Casimir -Delavigne as a dramatic author. Every artist has his double in some -kindred contemporary. Hugo and Delacroix have many points of contact; I -pride myself upon my resemblance to Vernet. - -Delaroche's skill is, indeed, great; not that we think it the fruit of -studied calculation, such cleverness is intuitive, and, perhaps, not so -much an acquired quality as a natural gift, a gift that is doubtless -rather a negative one, from the point of view of art. I prefer certain -painters, poets and players who are inclined to err on the side of -being awkward rather than too skilful. But, just as all the studying in -the world will not change clumsiness into skilfulness, so you cannot -cure a clever man of his defect. Therefore, although it is a singular -statement to make, Delaroche has the defect of being too skilful. -If a man is going to his execution, Delaroche will not choose the -shuddering moment when the guards open the doors of the prison, nor the -terror-stricken instant when the victim catches sight of the scaffold. -No, the resigned victim will pass before the window of the Bishop of -London; as he descends a staircase, will kneel with downcast eyes and -receive the benediction bestowed on him by two white aristocratic -trembling hands thrust through the bars of that window. If he paints -the assassination of the Duc de Guise, he does not choose the moment of -struggle, the supreme instant when the features contract in spasms of -anger, in convulsions of agony; when the hands dig into the flesh and -tear out hair; when hearts drink vengeance and daggers drink blood. No, -it is the moment when all is over, when the Duc de Guise is laid dead -at the foot of the bed, when daggers and swords are wiped clean and -cloaks have hidden the rending of the doublet, when the murderers open -the door to the assassin, and Henri III. enters, pale and trembling, -and recoils as he comes in murmuring-- - -"Why, he must have been ten feet high?--he looks taller lying down than -standing, dead than alive!" - -Again, if he paints the children of Edward, he does not choose the -moment when the executioners of Richard III. rush upon the poor -innocent boys and stifle their cries and their lives with bedding and -pillows. No, he chooses the time when the two lads, seated on the bed -which is to become their grave, are terrified and trembling by reason -of a presentiment of the footsteps of Death, as yet unrecognised by -them, but noted by their dog. Death is approaching, as yet hidden -behind the prison door, but his pale and cadaverous light is already -creeping in through the chinks. - -It is evident that this is one side of art, one aspect of genius, -which can be energetically attacked and conscientiously defended. -It does not satisfy the artist supremely, but it gives the middle -classes considerable pleasure. That is why Delaroche had, for a time, -the most universal reputation, and the one that was least disputed -among all his colleagues. It also explains why, after having been too -indulgent towards him, and from the very fact of being over-indulgent, -criticism has become too severe. And this is why we are putting the -artist and his works in their true place and light. We say, then: -Delaroche must not be so much blamed for his skill as felicitated -for it. It is an organic part not merely of his talent, but still -more of his temperament and character. He does not look all round his -subject to find out from which side he can see it the best. He sees -his subject immediately in just that particular pose; and it would be -impossible for the painter to realise it in any other way. Along with -this, Delaroche puts all the consciousness of which he is capable into -his work. Here is yet another point of resemblance between him and -Casimir Delavigne; only, he does not pour his whole self out as does -Delavigne; he does not need, as does Delavigne, friends to encourage -him and give him strength;--he is more prolific: Casimir is cunning; -Delaroche is merely freakish. Then, Casimir shortens, contracts and is -niggardly. He treats the same subject as does Delaroche; but why does -he treat it? Not by any means because the subject is a magnificent -one; or because it moves the heart of the masses and stirs up the Past -of a People; or because Shakespeare has created a sublime drama from -it, but because Delaroche has made a fine picture out of it. Thus the -fifteen more or less lengthy acts of Shakespeare become, under the pen -of Casimir Delavigne, three short acts; there is no mention whatever of -the king's procession, the scene between Richard III. and Queen Anne, -the apparition of the victims between the two armies, the fight between -Richard III. and Richmond. Delavigne's three acts have no other aim -than to make a tableau-vivant framed in the harlequin hangings of the -Théâtre-Français, representing with scrupulous exactitude, and in the -manner of a deceptive painting of still-life, the canvas of Delaroche. -It happens, therefore, that the drama finds itself great, even as is -the Academy, not by any means because of what it possesses, but by -what it lacks. Then, although, in the case of both, their convictions -or, if you prefer it, their prejudices exceed the bounds of obstinacy -and amount to infatuation, Delaroche, being the stronger of the two, -rarely giving in, although he does occasionally! while Casimir never -does so! To give one instance,--I have said that each great artist has -his counterpart in a kindred contemporary art; and I have said that -Delaroche resembled Casimir Delavigne. This I maintain. This is so -true that Victor Hugo and Delacroix, the two least academic talents -imaginable, both had the ambition to be of the Academy. Both competed -for it: Hugo five times and Delacroix ten, twelve, fifteen.... I cannot -count how many times. Very well, you remember what I said before; or -rather, lest you should not remember it, I will repeat it. During one -of the vacancies in the Academy I took it upon myself to call on some -academicians, who were my friends, on Hugo's behalf. One of these calls -was in the direction of Menus-Plasirs, where Casimir Delavigne had -rooms. I have previously mentioned how fond I was of Casimir Delavigne, -and that this feeling was reciprocated. Perhaps it will be a matter -for surprise that, being so fond of him, and boasting of his affection -for myself, I speak _ill_ of him. In the first place, I do not speak -_ill_ of his talent, I merely state the truth about it. That does not -prevent me from liking the man Casimir personally. I speak well of -the talent of M. Delaroche, but does that prove that I like him? No, -I do not like M. Delaroche; but my friendship for the one and my want -of sympathy with the other does not influence my opinion of their -talent. It is not for me either to blame or to praise their talent, -and I may be permitted both to praise and to blame individuals. I -put all these trifles on one side, and I judge their works. With this -explanation I return to Casimir Delavigne, who liked me somewhat, -and whom I liked much. I had decided to make use of this friendship -on behalf of Hugo, whom I loved, and whom I still love with quite a -different affection, because admiration makes up at least two kinds -of my friendship for Hugo, whilst I have no admiration for Casimir -Delavigne at all. So I went to find Casimir Delavigne. I employed all -the coaxing which friendship could inspire, all the arguments reason -could prompt to persuade him to give his vote to Hugo. He refused -obstinately, cruelly and, worse still, tactlessly. It would have been a -stroke of genius for Casimir Delavigne to have voted for Hugo. But he -would not vote for him. Cleverness, in the case of Casimir Delavigne, -was an acquired quality, not a natural gift. Casimir gave his vote to -I know not whom--to M. Dupaty, or M. Flourens, or M. Vatout. Well, -listen to this. The same situation occurred when Delacroix paid his -visits as when Hugo was trying to get himself placed among applicants -for the Academy. Once, twice, Delaroche refused his vote to Delacroix. -Robert Fleury,--you know that excellent painter of sorrowful situations -and supreme anguish, an apparently ideal person to be an impartial -appreciator of Delacroix and of Delaroche! Well, Robert Fleury sought -out Delaroche and did what I had done in the case of Casimir Delavigne, -he begged, implored Delaroche to give his vote to Delacroix. Delaroche -at first refused with shudders of horror and cries of indignation; and -he showed Robert Fleury to the door. But when he was by himself his -conscience began to speak to him; softly at first, then louder and -still louder; he tried to struggle against it, but it grew bigger and -bigger, like the shadow of Messina's fiancée! He sent for Fleury. - -"You can tell Delacroix he has my vote!" he burst out;--"all things -considered, he is a great painter." - -And he fled to his bed-chamber as a vanquished lion retires into his -cave, as the sulky Achilles withdrew into his tent. Now, in exchange -for that concession made to his conscience when it said to him: "You -are wrong!" let us show Delaroche's stubbornness when conscience said, -"You are right!" Delaroche was not only a great painter, but, as you -will see, he was still more a very fine and a very great character. - -In 1835, Delaroche, who was commissioned to paint six pictures for -the dome of the Madeleine, learnt that M. Ingres, who also had been -commissioned to paint the dome, had drawn back from the immense task -and retired. He ran off to M. Thiers, then Minister of the Interior. - -"Monsieur le Ministre," he said to him, "M. Ingres is withdrawing; -my work is bound up with his, I am at one with him concerning it; he -discussed his plans with me, and I showed him my sketches; his task -and mine were made to harmonise together. It may not be thus with his -successor. May I ask who his successor is, in order that I may know -whether we can work together as M. Ingres and I have worked together? -In case you should not have any person in view, and should wish me to -undertake the whole, I will do the dome for nothing, that is to say, -you shall pay me the sum agreed upon for my six pictures and I will -give you the dome into the bargain." - -M. Thiers got up and assumed the attitude of Orosmane, and said as said -Orosmane-- - - "Chrétien, te serais tu flatté, - D'effacer Orosmane en générosité." - -The result of the conversation was that the Minister, after having -said that there might not perhaps be any dome to paint, and that it -was possible they might content themselves with a sculptured frieze, -passed his word of honour to Delaroche--the word of honour which you -knew, which I knew, which Rome and Spain knew!--that, if the dome of -the Madeleine had to be painted, he, Delaroche, should paint it. Upon -that assurance Delaroche departed joyously for Rome, carrying with him -the hope of his life. That work was to be his life's work, his Sistine -Chapel. He reached Rome; he shut himself up, as did Poussin, in a -Camaldule monastery, copied monks' heads, made prodigious studies and -admirable sketches--and the sketches of Delaroche are often worth more -than his pictures--painted by day, designed by night and returned with -huge quantities of material. On his return he learned that the dome was -given to Ziégler! Even as I after the interdiction of _Antony_, he took -a cab, forced his way to the presence of M. Thiers, found him in his -private room, and stopped in front of his desk. - -"Monsieur le Ministre, I do not come to claim the work you had promised -me; I come to return you the twenty-five thousand francs you advanced -me." - -And, flinging down the bank-notes for that sum upon the Minister's desk, -he bowed and went out. - -This was dignified, noble and grand! But it was dismal. The unhappiness -of Delaroche, let us rather say, his misanthropy, dates from that day. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - - Eugène Delacroix - - -Eugène Delacroix had exhibited in the Salon of 1831 his _Tigres_, his -_Liberté_, his _Mort de l'Évêque de Liége._ Notice how well the grave -and misanthropie face of Delaroche is framed between Horace Vernet, -who is life and movement, and Delacroix, who is feeling, imagination -and fantasy. Here is a painter in the full sense of the term, _à la -bonne heure!_ Full of faults impossible to defend, full of qualities -impossible to dispute, for which friends and enemies, admirers and -detractors can cut one another's throats in all conscience. And all -will have right on their side: those who love him and those who hate -him; those who admire, those who run him down. To battle, then! For -Delacroix is equally a _fait de guerre_ and a _cas de guerre._ - -We will try to draw this great and strange artistic figure, which is -like nothing that has been and probably like nothing that ever will be; -we will try to give, by the analysis of his temperament, an idea of the -productions of this great painter, who bore a likeness to both Michael -Angelo and Rubens; not so good at drawing as the first, nor as good -at composition as the second, but more original in his fancies than -either. Temperament is the tree; works are but its flowers and fruit. - -Eugène Delacroix was born at Charenton near Paris,--at -Charenton-les-Fous; nobody, perhaps, has painted such fools as did -he: witness the stupid fool, the timid fool and the angry fool of -the _Prison du Tasse._ He was born in 1798, in the full tide of the -Directory. His father was first a Minister during the Revolution, -then préfet at Bordeaux, and was later to become préfet at Marseilles. -Eugène was the last of his family, the _culot_--the nestling, as -bird-nest robbers say; his brother was twenty-five years old when he -was born, and his sister was married before he was born. It would be -difficult to find a childhood fuller of events than that of Delacroix. -At three, he had been hung, burned, drowned, poisoned and strangled! -He must have been made very tough by Fate to escape all this alive. -One day his father, who was a soldier, took him up in his arms, and -raised him to the level of his mouth; meantime the child amused itself -by twisting the cord of the cavalryman's forage cap round his neck; -the soldier, instead of putting him down on the ground, let him fall, -and behold there was Delacroix hung. Happily, they loosened the cord -of the cap in time, and Delacroix was saved. One night, his nurse left -the candle too near his mosquito net, the wind set the net waving and -it caught fire; the fire spread to the bedding, sheets and child's -nightshirt, and behold Delacroix was on fire! Happily he cries; and, at -his cries people come in, and Delacroix is extinguished. It was high -time, the man's back is to this day marked all over with the burns -which scarred the child's skin. His father passed from the prefecture -of Bordeaux to that of Marseilles, and they gave an inaugural fête -to the new préfet in the harbour; while passing from one boat to -another, the serving lad who carried the child made a false step, -dropped him and there was Delacroix drowning! Luckily, a sailor jumped -into the sea and fished him out just when the serving lad, thinking -of his own salvation, was about to drop him. A little later, in his -father's study, he found some _vert-de-gris_ which was used to clean -geographical maps; the colour pleased his fancy,--Delacroix has always -been a colourist;--he swallowed the _vert-de-gris_, and there he -was poisoned! Happily, his father came back, found the bowl empty, -suspected what had happened and called in a doctor; the doctor ordered -an emetic and freed the child from the poison. Once, when he had been -very good, his mother gave him a bunch of dried grapes; Delacroix was -greedy; instead of eating his grapes one by one, he swallowed the whole -bunch; it stuck in his throat, and he was being suffocated in exactly -the same way as was Paul Huet with the fish bone! Fortunately, his -mother stuffed her hand into his mouth up to the wrist, caught hold of -the bunch by its stalk, managed to draw it up, and Delacroix, who was -choking, breathed again. These various events no doubt caused one of -his biographers to say that he had an _unhappy_ childhood. As we see, -it should rather have been said _exciting._ Delacroix was adored by his -father and mother, and it is not an unhappy childhood to grow up and -develop surrounded by the love of father and mother. They sent him to -school at eight,--to the Lycée Impérial. There he stayed till he was -seventeen, making good progress with his studies, spending his holidays -sometimes with his father and sometimes with his uncle Riesener, the -portrait-painter. At his uncle's house he met Guérin. The craze to be -a painter had always stuck to him: at six years old, in 1804, when in -the camp at Boulogne, he had made a drawing with white chalk on a black -plank, representing the _Descente des Français en Angleterre_; only, -France figured as a mountain and England as a valley; and a company -of soldiers was descending the mountain into the valley: this was the -_descent_ into England. Of the sea itself there was no question. We -see that, at six years of age, Delacroix's geographical ideas were -not very clearly defined. It was agreed upon between Riesener and -the composer of _Clymnestre_ and _Pyrrhus_ that, when Delacroix left -college, he should enter the studio of the latter. There were, indeed, -some difficulties raised by the family, the father inclining to law, -the mother to the diplomatic service; but, at eighteen, Delacroix lost -his fortune and his father; he had only forty thousand francs left, and -liberty to make himself a painter. He then went to Guérin, as soon as -it could be arranged, and, working like a negro, dreamed, composed and -executed his picture of _Dante._ This picture, not the worst of those -he has painted,--strong men sometimes put as much or even more into -their first work as into any afterwards,--came under the notice of -Géricault. The gaze of the young master when in process of painting his -_Naufrage de la Méduse_ was like the rays of a hot sun. Géricault often -came to see the work of Delacroix; the rapidity and original fancy of -the brush of his young rival, or, rather, of his young disciple, amused -him. He looked over his shoulder--Delacroix is of short and Géricault -of tall stature,--or he looked on seated astride a chair. Géricault was -so fond of horses that he always sat astride something. When the last -stroke of the brush was put to the dark crossing of hell, it was shown -to M. Guérin. M. Guérin bit his lips, frowned and uttered a little -growl of disapprobation accompanied by a negative shake of the head. -And that was all Delacroix could extract from him. The picture was -exhibited. Gérard saw it as he was passing by, stopped short, looked at -it a long time and that night, when dining with Thiers,--who was making -his first campaign in literature, as was Delacroix in painting,--he -said to the future Minister-- - -"We have a new painter!" - -"What is his name?" - -"Eugène Delacroix!" - -"What has he done?" - -"_A Dante passant l'Acheron avec Virgile._ Go and see his picture." - -Next day Thiers goes to the Louvre, seeks for the picture, finds it, -gazes at it and goes out entranced. - -Intellectually, Thiers possessed genuine artistic feeling, even if it -did not spring from the heart. He did what he could for art; and when -he displeased, wounded and discouraged an artist, the fault has lain -with his environment, his family, or some salon coterie, and, even when -causing pain to an artist, and in failing to keep his promises, he did -his utmost to spare the artist any pain he may have had to cause him, -at the cost of pain to himself. He was lucky, also, in his dealings, -if not always just; it was his idea to send Sigalon to Rome. True, -Sigalon died there of cholera; but not till after he had sent from -Rome his beautiful copy of the _Jugement dernier._ So Thiers went back -delighted with Delacroix's picture; he was then working on the staff -of the _Constitutionnel_, and he wrote a splendid article on the new -painter. In short, the _Dante_ did not raise too much envy. It was not -suspected what a family of reprobates the exile from Florence dragged -in his wake! The Government bought the picture for two thousand francs, -upon the recommendation of Gérard and Gros, and had it taken to the -Luxembourg, where it still is. You can see it there, one of the finest -pictures in the palace. - -Two years flew by. At that time exhibitions were only held every two -or three years. The salon of 1824 then opened. All eyes were turned -towards Greece. The memories of our young days formed a kind of -propaganda, recruiting under its banner, men, money, poems, painting -and concerts. People sang, painted, made verses, begged for the Greeks. -Whoever pronounced himself a Turkophile ran the risk of being stoned -like Saint Stephen. Delacroix exhibited his famous _Massacre de Scio._ - -Good Heavens! Have you who belonged to that time forgotten the clamour -that picture roused, with its rough and violent style of composition, -yet full of poetry and grace? Do you remember the young girl tied to -the tail of a horse? How frail and fragile she looked! How easily -one could see that her whole body would shed its fragments like the -petals of a rose, and be scattered like flakes of snow, when it came in -contact with pebbles and boulders and bramble thorns! - -Now, this time, the Rubicon was passed, the lance thrown down, and -war declared. The young painter had just broken with the whole of -the Imperial School. When clearing the precipice which divided the -past from the future, his foot had pushed the plank into the abyss -below, and had he wished to retrace his steps it was henceforth an -impossibility. From that moment--a rare thing at twenty-six years -of age!--Delacroix was proclaimed a master, started a school of his -own, and had not only pupils but disciples, admirers and fanatical -worshippers. They hunted out someone to stand in opposition to him; -they exhumed the man who was least like him in all points, and -rallied round him; they discovered Ingres, exalted him, proclaimed -him and crowned him in their hatred of Delacroix. As in the age of -the invasion of the Huns, the Burgundians and the Visigoths, they -called upon the savages to help them, they invoked St. Geneviève, they -adjured the king, they implored the pope! Ingres, certainly, did not -owe his revived reputation to the love and admiration which his grey -monochromes inspired, but to the fear and hatred which were inspired by -the flashing brush of Delacroix. All men above the age of fifty were -for Ingres; all young people below the age of thirty were for Delacroix. - -We will study and examine and appreciate Ingres in his turn, never -fear! His name, flung down in passing, shall not remain in obscurity; -although we warn our readers beforehand--and let them now take note -and only regard our judgment for what it is worth--that we are not in -sympathy with either the man or his talents. - -Thiers did not fail the painter of the _Massacre de Scio_, any more -than he had failed the creator of _Dante._ Quite as eulogistic an -article as the first, and a surprising one to find in the columns of -the classic _Constitutionnel_, came to the aid of Delacroix in the -battle where, as in the times of the _Iliad_, the gods of art were not -above fighting like ordinary mortals. The Government had its hands -forced, in some measure, by Gérard, Gros and M. de Forbin. The latter -bought the _Massacre de Scio_ in the name of the king for six thousand -francs for the Luxembourg Museum. - -Géricault died just when Delacroix received his six thousand francs. -Six thousand francs! It was a fortune. The fortune was spent in buying -sketches at the sale of the famous dead painter's works, and in making -a journey to England. England is the land of fine private collections, -the immense fortunes of certain gentlemen permitting them--either -because it is the fashion or from true love of art--to satisfy their -taste for painting. - -Delacroix bethought himself once more of the Old Museum Napoléon, -the museum which the conquest had overthrown in 1818; it abounded in -Flemish and Italian art. That old museum was a wonderful place, with -its collection of masterpieces from all over Europe, and in the midst -of which the English cooked their raw meat after Waterloo. - -It was during this period of prosperity--public talk about art always -signifies prosperity; if it does not lead to fortune, it gratifies -pride, and gratified pride assuredly brings keener joy than the -acquiring of a fortune;--it was during this period of prosperity, -we repeat, that Delacroix painted his first _Hamlet_, his _Giaour_, -his _Tasse dans la prison des fous_, his _Grèce sur les ruines de -Missolonghi_ and _Marino Faliero._ I bought the first three pictures; -they are even now the most beautiful Delacroix painted. The _Grèce_ was -bought by a provincial museum. _Marino Faliero_ had a singular fate. -Criticism was furious against this picture. Delacroix would have sold -it, at the time, for fifteen or eighteen hundred francs; but nobody -wanted it. Lawrence saw it, appreciated it, wished to have it and was -about to purchase it when he died. The picture remained in Delacroix's -studio. In 1836, I was with the Prince Royal when he was going to send -Victor Hugo a snuff-box or a diamond ring or something or other, I -forget what, in thanks for a volume of poetry addressed by the great -poet to Madame la duchesse d'Orléans. He showed me the object in -question, and told me of its destination, letting me understand that I -was threatened with a similar present. - -"Oh! Monseigneur, for pity's sake!" I said to him, "do not send Hugo -either a ring or snuff-box." - -"Why not?" - -"Because that is what every prince does, and Monseigneur le duc -d'Orléans, my own particular Duc d'Orléans, is not like other princes; -he is himself a man of intellect, a sincere man and an artist." - -"What would you have me send him, then?" - -"Take down some picture from your gallery, no matter how unimportant -a one, provided it has belonged to your Highness. Put underneath it, -'Given by the Prince Royal to Victor Hugo,' and send him that." - -"Very well, I will. Better still, hunt out for me among your artist -friends a picture which will please Hugo; buy it, have it sent to me, I -will give it him. Then two people will be pleased instead of one; the -painter from whom I buy it, and the poet to whom I give it." - -"I will do what you wish, Monseigneur," I said to the prince. - -I took my hat and ran out. I thought of Delacroix's _Marino Faliero._ -I crossed bridges, I climbed the one hundred and seventeen steps to -Delacroix's studio, who then lived on the quai Voltaire, and I fell -into his studio utterly breathless. - -"Hullo!" he said to me. "Why the deuce do you come upstairs so fast?" - -"I have good news to give you." - -"Good!" exclaimed Delacroix; "what is it?" - -"I have come to buy your _Marino Faliero._" - -"Ah!" he said, sounding more vexed than pleased. - -"What! Are you not delighted!" - -"Do you want to buy it for yourself?" - -"If it were for myself, what would the price be?" - -"Whatever you like to give me: two thousand francs, fifteen hundred -francs, one thousand francs." - -"No, it is not for myself; it is for the Duc d'Orléans. How much for -him?" - -"Four, five, six thousand francs, according to the gallery in which he -will place it." - -"It is not for himself." - -"For whom?" - -"It is for a present." - -"To whom?" - -_"I_ am not authorised to tell you; I am only authorised to offer you -six thousand francs." - -"My _Marino Faliero_ is not for sale." - -"Why is it not for sale? Just now you would have given it me for a -thousand francs." - -"To you, yes." - -"To the prince for four thousand!" - -"To the prince, yes; but only to the prince or you." - -"Why this choice?" - -"To you, because you are my friend; to the prince, because it is an -honour to have a place in the gallery of a royal artist as intelligent -as he is; but to any one else save you two, no." - -"Oh! what an extraordinary notion!" - -"As you like! It is my own." - -"But, really, you must have a better reason." - -"Very likely." - -"Would you sell any other picture for which you could get the same -price?" - -"Any other, but not that one." - -"And why not this one?" - -"Because I have been told so often that it is bad that I have taken an -affection for it, as a mother loves her poor, weakly, sickly deformed -child. In my studio, poor pariah that it is! it stands for me to look -it in the face when people look askance at it; to comfort it when -people humiliate it; to defend it when it is attacked. With you, it -would have at all events a guardian, if not a father; for, if you were -to buy it, it would be because you love it, as you are not a rich man. -In the case of the prince, in place of sincere praise there would be -that of courtiers: 'The painting is good, because Monseigneur has -bought it. Monseigneur is too much of an artist and a connoisseur to -make a mistake. Criticism must be at fault, the old witch! Detestable -old Sibyl!' But in the hands of a stranger, an indifferent person, whom -it cost nothing and who had no reason for taking its part, no, no, no. -My poor _Marino Faliero_, do not be anxious, thou shalt not go!" - -And it was in vain that I begged and prayed and urged him; Delacroix -stuck to his word. Certain that the Duc d'Orléans should not think -my action wrong, I went as far as eight thousand francs. Delacroix -obstinately refused. The picture is still in his studio. That was just -like the man, or, rather, the artist! - -At the Salon of 1826, which lasted six months, and was three times -replenished, Delacroix exhibited a _Justinien_ and _Christ au jardin -des Oliviers_, wonderful for their pain and sadness; they can now be -seen in the rue Saint-Antoine and the Church of St. Paul on the right -as you enter. I never miss going into the church when I pass that -way, to make my oblation as a Christian and an artist should before -the picture. All these subjects were wisely chosen; and as they were -beautiful and not bizarre they did not raise a stir. People indeed said -that _Justinien_ looked like a bird, and the _Christ_, like.... some -thing or other; but they were harking back more to the past than the -present. But, suddenly, at the final replenishing, arrived ... what? -Guess ... Do you not remember?--No--The _Sardanapale._ Ah! so it did! -This time there was a general hue-and-cry. - -The King of Assyria, his head wrapped round with a turban, clad -in royal robes, sitting surrounded with silver vases and golden -water-jugs, pearl collars and diamond bracelets, bronze tripods with -his favourite, the beautiful Mirrha, upon a pile of faggots, which -seemed like slipping down and falling on the public. All round the -pile, the wives of the Oriental monarch were killing themselves, -whilst the slaves were leading away and killing his horses. The attack -was so violent, criticism had so many things to find fault with in -that enormous canvas--one of the largest if not the largest in the -Salon--that the attack drowned defence: his fanatical admirers tried -indeed to rally in square of battle about their chief; but the Academy -itself, the Old Guard of _Classicism_, charged determinedly; the -unlucky partizans of _Sardanapale_ were routed, scattered and cut to -pieces! They disappeared like a water-spout, vanished like smoke, and, -like Augustus, Delacroix called in vain for his legions! Thiers had -hidden himself, nobody knew where. The creator of _Sardanapale_,--it -goes without saying that Delacroix was no longer remembered as the -painter of _Dante_, of the _Massacre de Scio_ or of _Grèce sur les -ruines de Missolonghi_, or of _Christ au jardin des Oliviers_, no, he -was the creator of _Sardanapale_ and of no other work whatever!--was -for five years without an order. Finally, in 1831, as we have already -said, he exhibited his _Tigres_, his _Liberté_ and his _Assassinat de -l'Évêque de Liège_, and, round these three most remarkable works, those -who had survived the last defeat began to rally. The Duc d'Orléans -bought the _Assassinat de l'Évêque de Liège_, and the government, the -_Liberté._ The _Tigres_ remained with its creator. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - - Three portraits in one frame - - -Now--judging by myself at least--next to the appreciation of the work -of great men, that which rouses the most curiosity is their method of -working. There are museums where one can study all the phases of human -gestation; conservatories where one can almost by the aid of the naked -eye alone follow the development of plants and flowers. Tell me, is -it not just as curious to watch the varying phenomena of the working -of the intellect? Do you not think that it is as interesting to see -what is passing in the brain of man, especially if that man be an -artist like Vernet, or Delaroche or Delacroix; a scientist like Arago, -Humboldt or Berzélius; a poet like Goethe, Hugo or Lamartine, as it -is to look through a glass shade and see what is happening inside a -bee-hive? - -One day I remarked to one of my misanthropic friends that, amongst -animals, the brain of the ant most resembled that of man. - -"Your statement is not very complimentary to the ant!" replied the -misanthrope. - -I am not entirely of my friend's way of thinking. I believe, on the -contrary, that the brain of man is, of all brains, the most interesting -to examine. Now, as it is the brain--so far, at least, as our present -knowledge permits us to dogmatise--which creates thought, thought -which controls action and action which produces deeds, we can boldly -say that to study character, to examine the execution of works which -are the productions of temperament, is to study the brain. We have -described Horace Vernet's physical appearance: small, thin, slight, -pleasant to look at, good to listen to, with his unusual hair, his -thick eyebrows, his blue eyes, his long nose, his smiling mouth beneath -its long moustache, and his beard cut to a point. He is, we added, all -life and movement. Vernet, at the end of his career, will, indeed, be -one who has lived a full life, and, when he stops, he will have gone -farthest; thanks to the post, to horses, camels, steamboats and the -railroad, he has certainly, by now (and he is sixty-five), travelled -farther than the Wandering Jew! True, the Wandering Jew goes on foot, -his five sous not permitting him rapid ways of locomotion, and his -pride declining gratuitous locomotion. Vernet, we say, had already -travelled farther than the Wandering Jew had done in a thousand years; -his work itself is a sort of journey: we saw him paint the _Smala_ with -a scaffold mounting as high as the ceiling and terraces extending the -whole length of the room; it was curious to see him, going, coming, -climbing up, descending, only stopping at each station for five -minutes, as one stops at Osnières for five minutes, at Creil for ten -minutes and at Valenciennes for half an hour--and, in the midst of -all this, gossiping, smoking, fencing, riding on horseback, on mules, -on camels, in tilburys, in droschkys, in palanquins, relating his -travels, planning fresh ones, impalpable, becoming apparently almost -invisible: he is flame, water, smoke--a Proteus! Then there was another -odd thing about Vernet: he would start for Rome as he would set out -for Saint-Germain; for China as if for Rome. I have been at his house -six or seven times; the first time he was there--the oddness of the -thing fascinated me; the second time he was in Cairo; the third, in -St. Petersburg; the fourth, in Constantinople; the fifth, in Warsaw; -and the sixth, in Algiers. The seventh time--namely, the day before -yesterday--I found him at the Institute, where he had come after -following the hunt at Fontainebleau, and was giving himself a day's -rest by varnishing a little eighteen-inch picture representing an Arab -astride an ass with a still bleeding lion-skin for saddle-cloth, which -had just been taken from the body of the animal; doing it in as sure -and easy a manner as though he were but thirty. The ass is crossing -a stream, unconscious of the terrible burden it bears, and one can -almost hear the stream prattling over the pebbles; the man, with his -head in the air, looks absently at the blue sky which appears through -the leaves; the flowers with their glowing colours twining up the -tree-trunks and falling down like trumpets of mother-of-pearl or purple -rosettes. This Arab, Vernet had actually come across, sitting calm and -indifferent upon his ass, fresh from killing and skinning the lion. -This is how it had happened. The Arab was working in a little field -near a wood;--a wood is always a bad neighbour in Algeria;--a slave -woman was sitting twenty paces from him, with his child. Suddenly, the -woman uttered a cry ... A lion was by her side. The Arab flew for his -gun, but the woman shouted out to him-- - -"Let me alone!" - -I am mistaken, it was not a slave woman, but the mother who called out -thus. He let her alone. She took her child, put it between her knees -and, turning to the lion, she said to it, shaking her fist at the -animal-- - -"Ah, you coward! to attack a defenceless woman and child! You think to -terrify me; but I know you. Go and attack my husband instead, who is -down there with a gun ... Go, I tell you! You dare not; you wretch! -It is you who are afraid! Go, you jackal! Off with you, you wolf, you -hyæna! You have a lion's skin on your back but you are no lion!" - -The lion withdrew, but, unfortunately, it met the Arab's mother, who -was bringing him his dinner. It leapt on the old woman and began to -eat her. At the cries of his mother the Arab ran up with his gun, and, -whilst the lion was quietly cracking the bones and flesh with its -teeth, he put the muzzle of his gun into the animal's ear and killed it -outright. In conclusion, the Arab did not seem to be any the sadder for -being an orphan, or in better spirits for having killed a lion. Vernet -told me this whilst putting the finishing touches to his picture, which -ought to be completed by now. - -Delaroche worked in a very different way; he led no such adventurous -life; he had not too much time for his work. With Delaroche, work -is a constant study and not a game. He was not a born painter, like -Vernet; he did not play with brushes and pencils as a child; he learnt -to draw and to paint, whilst Vernet never learnt anything of the kind. -Delaroche is a man of fifty-six, with smooth hair, once black and now -turning grey, a broad bare forehead, dark eyes fuller of intelligence -than of vivacity, and no beard or whiskers. He is of middle height, -well-set up, even to gracefulness; his movements are slow, his speech -is cold; words and actions, one clearly feels, are subjected to -reflection, and, instead of being spontaneous, like Vernet's, only -come, so to speak, as the result of thought. Just as Vernet's life is -turbulent, emotional and, like a leaf, carried unresistingly by the -wind that blows, so the life of Delaroche, of his own free will, was -tranquil and sedentary. Every time Delaroche went a journey,--and he -went very few, I believe,--it was necessity which compelled him to -leave his studio: it was some real, serious, artistic business which -called him away. Wherever he goes, he stays, plants himself down and -takes root, and it costs him as much pain to go back as it did to -come. No one could less resemble Vernet in his method of working than -Delaroche. Vernet knows all his sitters through and through, from the -aigrette on the schako to the gaiter-buttons. He has so often lived -under a tent, that its cords and piquets are familiar objects to -him; he has seen and ridden and drawn so many horses, that he knows -every kind of harness, from the rough sheep-skin of the Baskir to the -embroidered and jewel-bespangled saddle-cloths of the pacha. He has, -therefore, hardly any need of preparatory studies, no matter what his -subject may be. He scarcely sketches them out beforehand: _Constantine_ -cost him an hour's work; the _Smala_, a day. Furthermore, what he does -not know, he guesses. It is quite the reverse with Delaroche. He hunts -a long time, hesitates a great deal, composes slowly; Vernet only -studies one thing, the locality; this is why, having painted nearly all -the battlefields of Europe and of Africa, he is always riding over hill -and dale, and travelling by rail and by boat. - -Delaroche, on the contrary, studies everything: draperies, clothing, -flesh, atmosphere, light, half-tones, all the effects of Delaroche -are laboured, calculated, prepared; Vernet's are done on the spur of -the moment. When Delaroche is pondering on a picture, everything is -laid under contribution by him: the library for engravings, museums -for pictures, old clothes' shops for draperies; he tires himself out -with making rough sketches, exhausts himself in first attempts, and -often puts his finest talent into a sketch. A certain feeling of -laboriousness in the picture is the result of this preparatory fatigue, -which, however, is a virtue and not a fault in the eyes of industrious -people. - -Like all men of transition periods Delaroche was bound to have great -successes, and he has had them. During the exhibitions of 1826, 1831 -and 1834, everyone, before venturing to go to the Salon, asked, "Has -M. Delaroche exhibited?" But from the period, the intermediate year, -in which he united the classical school of painting with the romantic, -the past with the future, David with Delacroix, people were unjust -to him, as they are towards all who live in a state of transition. -Besides, Delaroche does not exhibit any longer; he scarcely even works -now. He has done one composition of foremost excellence, his hemicycle -of the Palais des Beaux-Arts, and that composition, which, in 1831, -was run after by the whole of Paris and annoyed most artists. Why? Has -Delaroche's talent become feebler since the time when people stood in -rows before his pictures and fought in front of his paintings? No, -on the contrary, he has improved; he has become more elevated and -masterly. But, what would you expect! I have compared Paul Delaroche -with Casimir Delavigne, and the same thing happened to the poet as to -the painter; only, with this difference, that the genius of the poet -had decreased, whilst that of the painter not only did not remain -stationary, but went on progressing constantly. At the present time, -one needs to be among the most intimate of the friends of Delaroche to -have the right to enter his studio. Besides, he is not even any longer -in Paris: he is at Nice; he is said to be ill. Hot sun, beautiful -starlit nights, an atmosphere sparkling with fireflies, will cure the -soul, and then the body will soon be cured!... - -There is no sort of physical resemblance between Delacroix and his -two rivals. He is like Vernet in figure, almost as slender as he, -very neat and fashionable and dandified. He is fifty-five years old, -his hair, whiskers and moustache, are as dark as when he was thirty; -his hair waves naturally, his beard is scanty, and his moustache, a -little bristly, looks like two wisps of tobacco; his forehead is broad -and prominent, with two thick eyebrows below, over small eyes, which -flash like fire between the long black eyelashes; his skin is brown, -swarthy, mobile and wrinkled like that of a lion; his lips are thick -and sensual, and he smiles often, showing teeth as white as pearls. -All his movements are quick, rapid, emphatic; his words are pictures, -his gestures speaking; his mind is subtle, argumentative, quick at -repartee; he loves a discussion, and is ever ready with some fresh, -sparkling, telling and brilliant hit; although of an adventurous, -fanciful, erratic talent, at the same time he is wise, temperate in -his use of paradox, even classical; one might say that Nature, which -tends to equilibrium, has posed him as a clever coachman, reins well in -hand, to restrain those two fiery steeds called imagination and fancy. -His mind at times overflows its bounds; speech becomes inadequate, his -hand drops the brush, incapable of expressing the theory it wishes to -uphold, and seizes the pen. Then those whose business it is to make -phrases and style and appreciate the value of words are amazed at the -artist's facility in constructing sentences, in handling style, in -bringing out his points; they forget the _Dante_, the _Massacre de -Scio_, the _Hamlet_, the _Tasso_, the _Giaour_, the _Evêque de Liège_, -the _Femmes d'Alger,_ the frescoes of the Chamber of Deputies, the -ceiling of the Louvre; they regret that this man, who writes so well -and so easily and so correctly, is not an author. Then, immediately, -one remembers that many can write like Delacroix, but none can paint as -he does, and one is ready to snatch the pen from his hand in a movement -of terror. - -Delacroix holds the middle course between Vernet and Delaroche as -regards rapidity of working: he works up his sketches more carefully -than the former, less so than the latter. He is incontestably superior -to both as a colourist, but strikingly inferior in form. He sees the -colour of flesh as violet, and, in the matter of form, he sees rather -the ugly than the beautiful; but his ugliness is always made poetical -by deep feeling. Entirely different from Delaroche, he is attracted -by extremes. His struggles are terrible, his battles furious; all the -suppleness and strength and extraordinary movements of the body are -drawn on his canvas, and he even adds thereto, like a strange varnish -which heightens the vivid qualities of his picture, a certain automatic -impossibility which does not in the least disconcert him. His fighters -seem actually to be fighting, strangling, biting, tearing, hacking, -cleaving one another in two and pounding one another about; his swords -are broken in two, his axes bloody, his heaps of bodies damp with -crushed brains. Look at the _Bataille de Taillebourg_, and you will -have an idea of the strength of his genius: you can hear the neighing -of the horses, the shouts of men, the clashing of steel. You will find -it in the great gallery of Versailles; and, although Louis-Philippe -curtailed the canvas by six inches all round because the measurement -had been incorrectly given, mutilated as it is, dishonoured by being -forced into M. Fontaines' Procrustes' bed, it still remains one of the -most beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful, of all the pictures in the -whole gallery. - -At this moment, Delacroix is doing a ceiling at the Hôtel de Ville. He -leaves his home at daybreak and only returns to it at night. Delacroix -belongs to that rugged family of workers which has produced Raphael and -Rubens. When he gets home, he takes a pen and makes sketches. Formerly, -Delacroix used to go out into society a great deal, where he was a -great favourite; a disease of the larynx has compelled him to retire -into private life. Yesterday I went to see him at midnight. He was in -a dressing-gown, his neck wrapped in a woollen cravat, at work close -to a big fire, which made the temperature of the room 30°.[1] I asked -to see his studio by lamplight. We passed through a corridor crowded -with dahlias, agapanthus lilies and chrysanthemums; then we entered the -studio. The absence of the master, who had been working at the other -end of Paris for six months, had made itself felt; yet there were four -splendid canvases, two representing flowers and two fruit. I thought -from a distance that these were pictures borrowed by Delacroix from -Diaz. That was why there were so many flowers in the anteroom. Then, -after the flowers, which to me were quite fresh, I saw a crowd of old -friends hanging on the walls: _Chevaux anglais qui se mordent dans une -prairie_, a _Grèce qui traverse un champ de bataille au galop_, the -famous _Marino Faliero_, faithful companion of the painter's sad moods, -when he has such moods; and, last, by itself, in a little room at the -side of the great studio, a scene from _Goetz von Berlichingen._ We -parted at two o'clock in the morning. - - -[1] 30° Cent.=85° Fahr. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - - Collaboration--A whim of Bocage--Anicet - Bourgeois--_Teresa_--Drama at the Opéra-Comique--Laferrière - and the eruption of Vesuvius--Mélingue--Fancy-dress ball - at the Tuileries--The place de Grève and the barrière - Saint-Jacques--The death penalty - - -During the interval which had elapsed between the construction of -_Richard Darlington_ its first performance, I had blocked out another -play entitled _Teresa._ I have said what I thought of _Charles VII._; -I hope that my collaborator Anicet will allow me to say the same in -the case of _Teresa._ I have no wish to defer expressing my opinion -upon this drama: it is one of my very worst, as _Angèle_, also done -in collaboration with Anicet, is one of my best. The evil of a first -collaboration is that it leads to a second; the man who has once -collaborated is comparable to one who lets his finger-end be entrapped -in a rolling press: after the finger the hand goes, then the arm and, -finally, his whole body! Everything is drawn in--one goes in a man and -one comes out a bit of iron wire. - -One day Bocage came to see me with a singular idea in his head. As he -had just played a man of thirty, in the character of Antony, he had got -it into his head that he would do well to play an old man of sixty; it -mattered little to him what manner of man it might be. The old man in -_Hernani_ and in _Marion Delorme_ rose up before him during his sleep -and haunted him in his waking hours: he wanted to play an old man, were -it Don Diègue in the _Cid_, Joad in _Athalie_ or Lusignan in _Zaïre._ -He had found his old man out at nurse with Anicet Bourgeois; he came -to fetch me to be foster-father. I did not know Anicet; we became -acquainted on this matter and at this time. Anicet had written the plan -of _Teresa._ I began by laying aside the written sketch and begging -him to relate me the play. There is something more living and lifelike -about a told story. To me a written plot is like a corpse, not a living -thing; one may galvanise it but not give it life. Most of the play as -it stands to-day was in Anicet's original plan. I was at once conscious -of two things, the second of which caused me to overlook the first: -namely, that I could never make _Teresa_ anything more than a mediocre -play, but that I should do Bocage a good turn. And this is how I did -Bocage that service. - -Harel, as we have said, had gone from the management of the Odéon -to that of the Porte-Saint-Martin. He had Frédérick, Lockroy, -Ligier: Bocage was no use to him. So he had broken with him, and, -in consequence of this rupture, Bocage found himself without an -engagement. Liberty, in the case of an actor, is not always a gift of -the gods. Bocage was anxious to put an end to this as soon as possible, -and, thanks to my drama, he hoped soon to lose his liberty. That is -why he treated _Teresa_ so enthusiastically as a _chef d'œuvre._ I -have ever been less able to resist unspoken arguments than spoken -ones. I understood the situation. I had had need of Bocage; he had -played Antony admirably, and by so doing had rendered me eminent -service: I could now do him a good turn, and I therefore undertook -to write _Teresa._ Not that _Teresa_ was entirely without merit as a -work. Besides the three artificial characters of Teresa, Arthur and -Paolo, there were two excellent parts, those of Amélie and Delaunay. -Amélie is a flower from the same garden as Miranda in _The Tempest_, -Thekla in _Wallenstein_ and Claire in _Comte d'Egmont_; she is young, -chaste and beautiful, and, at the same time, natural and poetic; she -passes through the play with her bouquet of orange blossom at her -side, her betrothal veil on her head, in the midst of the ignoble -incestuous passion of Arthur and Teresa, without guessing or suspecting -or understanding anything of it. She is like a crystal statue which -cannot see through others but lets others see through it. Delaunay is -a fine type, a little too much copied from Danville in the _École de -Vieillards_, and from Duresnel in the _Mère et la Fille._ However--one -must be just to everyone, even to oneself,--there are two scenes in -his part which reach to the greatest heights of beauty to be met with -on the stage: the first is where he insults Arthur, when the secret of -the adultery is revealed to him; the second is where, learning that his -daughter is _enciente_, and not desiring to make the mother a widow -and the child an orphan, he makes excuses to his son-in-law. The drama -was begun and almost finished in three weeks or a month; but I made -the same condition with Anicet which I have always made when working -in collaboration, namely, that I alone should write the play. When the -drama was completed, Bocage took it, and we did not trouble our heads -further about it. For three weeks or a month I did not see Bocage -again. At the end of that time he came to me. - -"Our business is settled," he said. - -"Good! And how?" - -"Your play is received in advance; you are to have a premium of a -thousand francs upon its reading, and it is to be played immediately." - -"Where?" - -"At the Opéra-Comique." - -I thought I must have misunderstood. "What?" I said. - -"At the Opéra-Comique," repeated Bocage. - -"Oh! that's a fine tale! Who made that up?" - -"They are engaging the actors." - -"Who are they?" - -"Myself, in the first place." - -"You do not play the drama all alone?" - -"Then there is Laferrière." - -"You two will not play it by yourselves?" - -"Then a talented young girl who is at Montmartre." - -"What is her name?" - -"Oh! you will not even know her name; she is called Ida; she is just -beginning." - -"And then?" - -"Then a young man recommended to me by your son." - -"What! By my son? At six and a half years of age my son make -recommendations of that sort?" - -"It is his tutor." - -"I see; he wants to get rid of him. But if that one leaves he will have -another. Such is the simplicity of childhood! And what is the name of -my son's tutor?" - -"Guyon. He is a tall fellow of five foot six, with dark hair and eyes, -and a magnificent head! He will make us a superb Paolo." - -"So much for Paolo? Next?" - -"Next we shall have the Opéra-Comique company, from which we can help -ourselves freely. They sing." - -"They sing, you are pleased to say; but can they speak?" - -"That is your affair." - -"So, is it settled like that?" - -"If you approve. Are you agreeable?" - -"Perfectly." - -"Then we are to read it to the actors to-morrow." - -"Let us do so." - -Next day I read it to the actors; two days later the play was put in -rehearsal. I knew Laferrière only slightly; but he had already at that -period, when less used to the stage, the elements of talent to which he -owed his reputation later as the first actor in love-scenes to be found -between the Porte-Saint-Denis and the Colonne de Juillet. Mademoiselle -Ida had a delicate, graceful, artless style, quite unaffected by any -theatrical convention. Bocage was the man we know, endowed with youth, -that excellent and precious fault, which is never injurious even in -playing the parts of old men. So we were in the full tide of rehearsal, -when the year 1832 began and the newspapers of I January announced a -fearful eruption of Vesuvius. - -I was considerably surprised to receive a visit from Laferrière with a -newspaper in his hand, on the 7th or 8th. He was as much out of breath -as I was the day I went to Delacroix to buy his _Marino Faliero._ - -"Hullo!" I said to him, "is the Opéra-Comique burnt down?" - -"No, but _Torre-del-Grèco_ is burning." - -"It ought to be used to it by now, for, if I mistake not, it has been -rebuilt eleven times!" - -"It must be a magnificent sight!" - -"Do you happen to want to start for Naples?" - -"No; but you might derive profit from it." - -"How?" - -"Read." - -He handed me his newspaper, which contained a description of the latest -eruption of Vesuvius. - -"Well?" I said to him when I had read it. - -"Well, do you not think that superb?" - -"Magnificent!" - -"Put that in my part then. Run your show with Vesuvius; the play would -gain by it." - -"And your rôle likewise." - -"Of course!" - -"You infernal mountebank; what an idea!" - -Laferrière began to laugh. - -There are two men who possess a great advantage for authors in two -very different functions, with two very different types of talent: -Laferrière is the one, and Mélingue the other. From the very hour -when they have first listened to the reading of a work, to the moment -when the curtain goes up, they have but one thought: to collect, weld -together and work in anything that might be useful to the work. Their -searching eyes are not distracted for one instant; not for a second do -their minds wander from the point. They think of their parts while they -are walking, eating and drinking; they dream of them while they sleep. -I shall return to Mélingue more than once in reference to this quality, -one of the most precious a great actor can possess. - -Laferrière has plenty of pertinacity. - -"Well," I said to him, "it is a good idea and I will adopt it." - -"Will you really?" - -"Yes." - -"You promise me?" - -"I promise you." - -"Very well then.." - -"What?" - -"It is all the same to you.. - -"Say on." - -"You will do it ..." - -"Immediately?" - -"Yes." - -"Now, at once?" - -"I beseech you." - -"I have not time." - -"Oh! mon petit Dumas! Do me my Vesuvius. I promise you, if you will do -it to-day I will know it by to-morrow." - -"Once more I tell you I haven't time." - -"How long would it take you to do it?" - -"How long?" - -"Ten minutes ... come, that is all.... I entreat you!" - -"Go to the deuce with you!" - -"Mon petit Dumas!..." - -"All right, we will see." - -"You are kind!" - -"Give me a pen, ink and paper." - -"Here they are!... No, do not get up: I will bring the table up to you -... Come, is it comfortable like that?" - -"Splendid! Now, go away and come back in a quarter of an hour." - -"Oh! what will you be up to when I am gone?" - -"I cannot work when anybody is with me. Even my dog disturbs me." - -"I will not stir, mon petit Dumas! I will not utter one word; I will -keep perfectly still." - -"Then go and sit before the glass, button up your coat, put on a gloomy -look and pass your hand through your hair." - -"Certainly." - -"And I will do my part of the work." - -A quarter of an hour later, Vesuvius was making an eruption in -Laferrière's part, and he took himself off in great glee and pride. - -All things considered, the race of players are a good sort! A trifle -ungrateful, at times; but has not our friend Roqueplan proclaimed the -principle that "ingratitude is the independence of the heart?..." - -At this time, people were tremendously taken up with a forthcoming -event, as they were with everything of an artistic nature. King -Louis-Philippe was giving a fancy-dress ball. Duponchel had been -ordered to design the historic costumes; and people begged, prayed and -implored for invitations. It was a splendid ball. All the political -celebrities were present; but, as always happens, all the artistic and -literary celebrities were absent. - -"Will you do something which shall surpass the Tuileries ball?" said -Bocage to me. - -"What is that?" - -"Give one yourself!" - -"I! Who would come to it?" - -"First of all, those who did not go to King Louis-Philippe's, then -those who do not belong to the Académy. It seems to me that the guests -I offer you are quite distinguished enough." - -"Thanks, Bocage, I will think about it." - -I thought about it to some purpose, and the result of my reflections -will be seen in one of our forthcoming chapters. - -On the 23rd of the month of January,--the next day but one after -the anniversary of the death of King Louis XVI.,--the usual place -for executions was changed from the place de Grève to the barrière -Saint-Jacques. This was one step in advance in civilisation: let us put -it down here, by quoting the edict of M. de Bondy. - - "We, a peer of France, Préfet de la Seine, etc.; In view of - the letter addressed to us by M. le Procureur-général at the - Royal Court of Paris: - - "Whereas the place de Grève can no longer be used as a - place of execution, since the blood of devoted citizens - was gloriously spilled there in the national cause: - whereas it is important to choose, if possible, a place - farther removed from the centre of Paris, yet which shall - be easily accessible: whereas, for different reasons, the - place situated at the extremity of the rue du faubourg - Saint-Jacques seems to suit the requisite conditions; we - have decided that-- - - "Criminals under capital punishment shall in future - be executed on the ground at the end of the faubourg - Saint-Jacques. COMTE DE BONDY" - -This is what we wrote on the subject on 26 November 1849, in an -epilogue to _Comte Hermann_,--one of our best dramas,--an epilogue -not written to be spoken, but to be read, after the fashion of German -plays-- - - "The death penalty, as applied to-day, has already undergone - a great modification, not with respect to its final issue, - but with regard to the details which precede the last - moments of the condemned. - - "Twenty years ago, executions still took place in the centre - of Paris, at the most stirring hour of the day and before - the greatest possible number of spectators. Thus an external - means of support was provided for the doomed man against his - own weakness. It did not make the sufferer into a repentant - criminal, but a species of cynical victor, who, instead of - confessing God upon the scaffold, bore testimony against the - inadequacy of human justice, which could, indeed, kill the - criminal, but was powerless to extinguish the crime. - - "Now, it is quite otherwise. A step has been taken towards - the abolition of capital punishment, by transporting the - instrument of execution almost outside the precincts of the - town, choosing the hour when the majority of the inhabitants - of Paris are still asleep, only allowing the criminal during - his last moments the rare witnesses that chance or excessive - curiosity may attract to the scaffold. - - "Nowadays, it is left to the priests who devote themselves - to the salvation of the souls of the doomed to tell us if - they find as much hardness of heart in the journey between - Bicêtre and the barrière Saint-Jacques as they used to find - in the journey from the Conciergerie to the place de Grève; - and whether there are more tears shed at the foot of the - crucifix now, at four o'clock in the morning, than formerly, - at four in the afternoon. We firmly believe so. Yes, there - are more repentances in the silence and solitude than there - ever were in the tumult of the crowd. Now, let us consider - that the act of execution, supported by the eager looks of - the people, does not correct them or instruct them but only - hardens their hearts; let us suppose that the execution - takes place in the prison, with priest and executioner as - sole witnesses; that, instead of the guillotine,--which, - according to Dr. Guillotin, only occasions a feeling of a - _slight chill_ on the neck, but which, according to Dr. Sue, - causes terrible suffering,--the sole means of execution used - is electricity, which kills like lightning, or even one of - those stupefying poisons which act like sleep; will it not - happen that the hearts of the doomed will soften still more - in the night and silence and solitude, than in the open - air, were it even at four o'clock in the morning, and in - the presence of the few witnesses who are present at the - execution, but who, few though they be, will none the less - say to the criminal's companions, to his prison friends, - '_un tel est bien mort!_' that is to say I such a one died - without repenting, pushing the crucifix away from him?" - -Since that time, the guillotine has come still nearer to the condemned -man: now, they execute in front of the gates of the prison de la -Roquette. It is but a few steps from that to executing inside the -prison itself. And to descend from the prison courtyard into the -dungeon itself is but a single step! - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - - The peregrinations of Casimir Delavigne--_Jeanne - Vaubernier_--Rougemont--His translation of Cambronne's - _mot_--First representation of _Teresa_--Long and short - pieces--Cordelier Delanoue and his _Mathieu Luc_--Closing - of the Taitbout Hall and arrest of the leaders of the - Saint-Simonian cult - - -Whilst the Opéra-Comique was rehearsing _Teresa_, the Théâtre-Français -was preparing for a great occasion. Casimir Delavigne, the dramatic -Coriolanus, after having been rejected by the Volscians of the -boulevards, with _Marino Faliero_ in his hand, instead of falling -beneath the dagger of M. de Mongenet, had been received back -triumphantly into the Théâtre-Français. The flight, after all, had -been but a passing coolness after the immense success of the _École -des Vieillards._ Casimir had had a sort of decline; Mademoiselle -Mars had not been able to uphold the _Princesse Aurélié_, a kind of -Neapolitan imbroglio which everybody has forgotten to-day, happily for -the memory of its author. Then the presence of Victor Hugo and myself -at the Théâtre-Français annoyed Casimir Delavigne. He well understood -that his popularity was only a political one: he possessed neither the -lofty poetry of Victor, nor the movement and life of my ignorant and -incorrect prose; in a word, he was ill at ease when close to us. He -gave vent to a phrase concerning me which well summed up his thought-- - -"The work that deuced Dumas does is bad; but it prevents people from -seeing the goodness of mine." - -So he had migrated to the Porte-Saint-Martin, because we were at the -Théâtre-Français, and now he returned to the Théâtre-Français because -we were at the Porte-Saint-Martin. He returned to it with one of his -mixed works, half classical and half romantic, which do not belong -to any sort of school; literary hermaphrodites, which bear the same -relation to intellectual productions as, in Natural History, do mules, -_i.e._ animals which cannot reproduce themselves, to the ordinary -productions of nature: they make a species, but not a race. - -The work that Casimir Delavigne brought back to the Théâtre-Français -was _Louis XI._,--according to our opinion, one of his most mediocre -dramas, the least studied as history, and one which, engineered by a -clever artifice which we will shortly relate, through the frail sickly -period of its youth to its maturity, only owes its patent of longevity -to the rather egotistic favour accorded by a player who was crazy to -play this rôle because it was an unusual type which suited him. Do not -be deceived, it is not _Louis XI._ that lives to-day, but Ligier.[1] We -will refer again to Casimir Delavigne's drama on the occasion of its -first performance. - -The first performance of _Teresa_ was announced for the 5th or 6th of -February. Meanwhile the Odéon gave _Jeanne Vaubernier._ It was thus -that certain authors conceived the idea of reviving the name of the -_Comtesse du Barry_, that poor woman who was neither worthy of her high -prosperity nor her deep misfortune, and who, according to Lamartine's -fine expression, dishonoured both the throne and the scaffold. MM. -de Rougemont, Laffitte and Lagrange were the authors of _Jeanne -Vaubernier._ Rougemont was a clever man who, towards the close of his -life, had a strange fate. The _Duchesse de la Vaubalière_ brought -him a septuagenarian reputation. It was Rougemont who translated the -military substantive flung by Cambronne in the face of the English, -on the terrible night of Waterloo, into the pompous, redundant and -pretentious phrase which has become of European and world-wide fame: -"The Guard dies, and does not return!" As far as I can remember, the -drama of _Jeanne Vaubernier_--such as it was, with six tableaux, its -Zamore, the ungrateful traitor, its prison and its executioner--was a -very poor concern. I have not seen it, and will not therefore discuss -it any further. But, from the ghost of this drama, from the fallen -statue, from the least broken fragments which could be made to do -duty, the authors composed a little comedy in which Madame Dorval's -wit was charmingly light. Dear Dorval! I can see her as she was that -successful night, a night which, thanks to her, was saved from being a -failure: she was enchanted, never suspecting that the comedy of _Jeanne -Vaubernier_ would be a chain she would have to wear for eighteen months -at the Porte-Saint-Martin, from six to eight o'clock in the evening, -before the benches which did not fill up until the beginning of the -great drama! To Georges--especially after her reconciliation with -Dorval--it was to be a matter of keen remorse, this punishment which -she inflicted on her rival in expiation of her triumphs, and which -compelled her to leave the Porte-Saint-Martin theatre to go and bury -herself in the Théâtre-Français. - -The day of the first performance of _Teresa_ arrived. The confusion -of styles, the beginning of drama at the Opéra-Comique, had piqued -the curiosity of the public, and people clamoured to get in. I have -already said that the thing was not worth the trouble. Laferrière had -given me a good idea with his story of Vesuvius; the exhibition was -highly applauded. I recollect that when I entered the wings, after the -first act, that excellent fellow Nourrit, who had just been praising -the description of the town wherein he was to die, threw himself upon -my neck in his enthusiasm. The piece unfolded itself slowly, and with -a certain majestic dignity, before a select audience. The character of -Amélie, which was very well carried out, made a great hit, and did not -fail in any of its appearances. Madame Moreau-Sainti was ravishingly -beautiful, and as sympathetic as a bad part allowed. Laferrière came -and went, warming up the parts taken by others by his own enthusiastic -warmth. Bocage was superb. A misfortune happened to the actor -recommended by my son. Unfamiliarity with stage-craft had obliged Guyon -to give up the part of Paolo to go more deeply into dramatic studies. -Féréol had taken his place; they had added some barcarolle or other -for him to sing whilst he was acting, and he played the rest of his -rôle singing. Alexandre found himself with two tutors instead of one! - -The curtain went up for the fourth act. From that moment the piece was -saved; in it are the letter scene between the father and the daughter, -and that of the quarrel between the father-in-law and son-in-law. These -two scenes are very fine, and produced a great sensation. This fourth -act had an amazing triumph. Usually, if the fourth act is a success, -it carries the fifth one with it. The first half of the fifth act of -_Teresa_ is, moreover, remarkable in itself; it is the scene of the -excuses between the old man and the young one. It does not become -really bad till _Teresa_ asks Paolo for poison. All this intriguing -between the adulterous woman and the amorous lackey is vulgar, and -has not the merit of being really terrible. But the impression of the -fourth act and of the first half of the fifth was so vivid that it -extended its influence over the imperfections of the _dėnoûment._ In -short, it was a success great enough to satisfy _amour-propre_, but not -to satisfy the claims of art. Bocage was really grand at times. I here -pay him my very sincere compliments for what he then performed. He had -improved as a comedian, and was then, I think, at the height of his -dramatic career. I think so, now I have somewhat outgrown my youthful -illusions; I will therefore tell him, in all frankness, at what moment, -according to my opinion, he took the wrong road and adopted the fatal -system of nervous excitement under the dominion of which he now is. - -When the first rage for _Teresa_ had passed they made me a proposal -to change the play into one of three acts, so that it might become a -stock piece. I refused to do it; I did not wish to make a mutilated -play out of a defective one. Anicet, who had a half-share in the work, -urged me so pressingly that I suggested he should perform the operation -himself. He set to work bravely, pruned, cut, curtailed, and one day -I was invited by some player or other, whose name I forget, who was -coming out in the rôle of Arthur, to go and see the piece reduced to -three acts. I went, and I found it to be more detestable and, strange -to say, longer than at first! Lengthiness does not exist on the stage, -practically speaking. There are neither long plays nor short; only -amusing plays and wearisome ones. The _Marriage de Figaro_, which lasts -five hours, is not so long as the _Épreuve nouvelle_, which lasts one -hour. The developments of _Teresa_ taken away, the play had lost its -artistic interest, and, having become more boresome, seemed longer. - -One day Cordelier Delanoue came to me looking depressed. - -"What is the matter?" I asked him. - -"I have just been reading to the Théâtre-Français." - -"What!" - -"A three-act drama in verse." - -"Entitled?" - -"_Mathieu Luc._" - -"And they have refused it?" - -"No, they have accepted it, subject to correction." - -"Did they point out what corrections they wanted?" - -"Yes; the piece is too long." - -"And they demand curtailment?" - -"Exactly! and I have come to read it to you." - -"So that I may point them out to you?" - -"Yes." - -"Read it, then!" - -Delanoue began to read his three acts. I followed the play with the -greatest attention. I found, whilst he was in the act of reading, a -pivot of interest on which the play could advantageously turn, and -which he had passed over unnoticed. - -"Well?" said he when he had finished. - -"They were right: it is too long by a third." - -"Then it must be cut down." - -"No, on the contrary." - -"What do you mean by that?" - -"You must turn the play into five acts." - -"But when they already think it too long by a third?" - -"That is neither here nor there.--Listen." - -And I told him how I understood the play. Delanoue reconstructed his -_scenario_ under my direction, wrote out his play afresh, read it in -five acts to the committee, which had thought it too long in three, and -it was received with unanimity. The piece was played in five acts--not -at the Théâtre-Français, but, consequent on some revival or other, at -the Théâtre de Odéon, and it succeeded honourably without obtaining a -great success. - -Some days before the performance of _Teresa_ an event had happened -which engrossed the attention of Paris. We will take the recital of it -from the _Globe_, which was in a perfect position for telling the truth -in this instance-- - - "To-day, 22 January, at noon, MM. Enfantin and Olinde - Rodrigues, leaders of the Saint-Simonian religion, laid - their plans to go to the Taitbout Hall, where they were to - preside over the preaching, when a Commissary of Police, - escorted by a Municipal Guard, put in an appearance at No. - 6 Rue Monsigny, where they lived, to forbid them to go out, - and prevented all communication between the house and the - outside world, in virtue of the orders which they declared - they possessed. - - "Meantime M. Desmortiers, _procureur du roi_, and M. - Zangiacomi, Examining Magistrate, assisted by two - Commissaries of Police and escorted by Municipal Guards - and troops of the line, went to the Taitbout Hall. M. - Desmortiers signified to M. Barrault, who was in the hall, - that the preaching could not take place, and that he had - come to enjoin the meeting to break up. The _procureur du - roi_ immediately appeared in the hall with M. Barrault and - there said: 'In the name of the Law and of Article 292 of - the Penal Code I have come to close this hall and to seal - up all the doors.' The assembly was immediately broken up, - and seals were put to the doors of the Taitbout Hall. M. - Zangiacomi and M. Desmortiers then repaired to No. 5 (6) Rue - Monsigny, where they found MM. Enfantin and Rodrigues; they - declared that they were the bearers of two search-warrants, - one against M. Enfantin and the other against M. Rodrigues, - and that they had come to search the house. They seized M. - Enfantin's correspondence, all the account-books and the - bills-due books." - -Free to-day from the prosecution of MM. Zangiacomi and Desmortiers, the -Saint-Simonians are not at all rid of us, and we shall hunt them out -again in their retreat at Ménilmontant. - - -[1] See critical analysis of _Louis XI._ in _Études dramatiques._ - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - - Mély-Janin's _Louis XI._ - - -Three days after _Térésa_ the _Louis XI._ of Casimir Delavigne was -played. I have spoken of Mély-Janin's drama entitled _Louis XI._, -which had deeply impressed Soulié and me in 1827. It had, no doubt, -also impressed Casimir Delavigne, who was most sensitive to such -impressions. Casimir seemed to have been created and brought into -this world to prove that the system of innate ideas is the falsest of -philosophical systems. We are about to devote a few lines to the study -of the _Louis XI._ of 1827 and that of 1832, Mély-Janin's drama and -that of Casimir Delavigne. We do not wish to say that these two men -were of the same substance; but, having Walter Scott ostensibly as -ally, the journalist found himself, one fine night, a match for the -dramatic author. We say _ostensibly_, because Casimir Delavigne did -not himself totally scorn alliance with the Scottish bard; only, as -Walter Scott was still unpopular in France with many people, because of -his _History of Napoléon_, Casimir, in his capacity of _National_ poet -(it was upon that nationality the fragile pyramid of his talent was -specially founded), did not want openly to confess that alliance. - -Let us begin with Mély-Janin. At the rising of the curtain one sees a -landscape, representing the château of Plessis-les-Tours, a hostelry -and a _smiling countryside,_ after the fashion of the time. Wherever -anything is not copied from Walter Scott we find, as in that _smiling -countryside_, a specimen of the style of the Empire. Isabelle, the -rich heiress of Croy, is on the stage with her maid of honour, her -attendant, her confidential friend; a theatrical device invented -to enable one of the principal characters to confide in another a -secret which the teller has known for ten years, and with which the -general public now becomes acquainted. In ancient tragedy, when this -functionary is a man, he is called Euphorbus (?), Arcas or Corasmin; -when a woman, she is called Julia, Œnone or Fatima, and bears the -innocent title of confidant. Well, Isabelle confides to the woman who -accompanies her in her flight that she has come from the court of -Burgundy to the court of France because Duke Charles, fearing to see -her dispose of her immense wealth, wished to force her to marry either -the Comte de Crèvecœur or the Comte de la Marck, nicknamed the Boar of -the Ardennes. She informs her (this same Eléonore, who has not left -her side for one moment) that she has found protection, safe although -not particularly entertaining, in King Louis XI. The sole anxiety she -feels is to know if _he_, whom she has not had time to forewarn of her -flight, will have the perseverance to follow her, and the skill to -find her again. This is a point upon which Eléonore, well informed as -she is, cannot instruct her; but, as Éléonore has learnt nearly all -she knows and the public all it needs to know, one sees advancing from -the distance two men dressed like decent citizens, who come forward -in their turn and gossip quite naturally of their affairs in the very -place in all France least suitable for the conversation to be held. -Isabelle turns round, sees them and says-- - -"I see the king coming this way; he is accompanied by his crony -Martigny. The simplicity of his costume shows that he wishes to keep -his incognito. Here he is; let us withdraw." - -And Isabelle de Croy and her confidant withdraw to the _garden side_, -having seen Louis XI. and his confidant, whom they must see in order -that the public may know that Louis XI. and his confidant are about to -take part in the scene, whilst Louis XI. and his confidant, who do not -need to see Isabelle and her confidant, and who indeed ought not to see -them, do not see them. - -You may tell me this is not a very accurate reproduction of the habits -of Louis XI., who, after the nature of cats, foxes and wolves, can see -in the night on all sides of him and behind, too, and is represented -as not able to see things that are in front of him; but I can only -reply that this was how the thing was done on the French stage in the -year of grace 1827, even amongst poets who had the reputation of being -innovators. It will be seen that things had not changed much in 1832. -The hatred which was entertained against us can easily be imagined, -since we had undertaken to change customs as convenient as these. It -was enough to add in parentheses, and in another style of typography, -when speaking of those who come on--as Mély-Janin does, for instance, -when speaking of the king and his crony Martigny--(_They come on from -the back of the stage, and cannot perceive the comtesse and Éléonore -hidden by the trees._) The matter was no more difficult than that! -Do not forget, if I do, to remind me of the story of the monologue -of Tasso. Louis XI. is also with his confidant, only his confidant -is called _le compère_ Martigny. They come forward, chatting and -disputing; but do not be anxious, they have kept the most important -part of their conversation, that which it is urgent the public should -know, until their entrance upon the stage; so, after a few unimportant -words, exchanged between Louis XI. and his crony, the king says to -Martigny-- - - "Let us return to the business we have in hand. What news - have the secret emissaries you sent to the court of Burgundy - brought you? Does Charles know that the Comtesse de Croy has - withdrawn into my States? Does he know that I have given her - shelter?" - -You see that the old fox Louis XI. wants the emissaries of the crony -Martigny to have informed their master, in order that it may be -repeated to himself, that the Duc de Bourgogne knows that the Comtesse -de Croy has withdrawn to his States, and that he has given her shelter! -As if Louis XI. had need of the emissaries of others! As if he hadn't -his own secret spies, who, at all hours, made their way, under all -sorts of disguises, noiseless, into his private cabinet, where they -were accustomed to talk of his affairs! You must clearly understand -that the two interlocutors would not have come there if the secret -emissaries of the crony Martigny had not arrived. As a matter of fact, -they have returned, and this is the news they have brought: Charles the -Bold knows all; he flew into a violent passion when he learnt it; he -sent the Comte de Crèvecoeur immediately to fetch back Isabelle. They -have learnt, besides, that a young Scotsman, by name Quentin Durward, -has joined the two suitors who aspire to the hand of Isabelle, the -Comte de Crèvecoeur and the Boar of Ardennes, and has the advantage -over them by being loved in return. - - "But where, then, has he seen the countess?" - - Wait! Here is a clever rase, which prepares us for the - _dénoûment_-- - - "That is what I cannot find out," replies Martigny; "it is - certain, however, that he has paid her frequent visits at - Herbert's tower." - - "At Herbert's tower, sayest thou?" - - "Yes; you know that the countess, before surrendering - herself to the protection of your court, had already made - an attempt to escape. The duke, under the first impulse of - anger, had her shut up in Herbert's tower; there she was - strictly guarded, and yet they say that, by some secret - passage, Quentin Durward found means to get to her." - -Louis XI. does not know this; and, as he is no doubt ashamed of not -knowing it, instead of replying to Martigny's question, he says-- - - "But hast thou not tried to attract this young man to my - court?" - - "He had left that of the Duc de Bourgogne some time after - the countess." - - "He will, no doubt, follow in her track." - -As you see, Louis XI. is really much more subtle than he appears. He -continues-- - - "Martigny, we must watch for his arrival. If he comes, my - favour awaits him ... But what art thou looking at?" - -You, I presume, who are not Louis XI., have no doubt what crony -Martigny is looking at? Why! he is looking towards the young man -for whom the king's favours are waiting. This is called _ad eventum -festinare_, moving towards the _dénoûment_; it is recommended in the -first place by Horace, and in the second by Boileau. Thanks to his -disguise, and to a breakfast which he offers to the traveller, Louis -XI. learns that he who has just come is, indeed, the man he is looking -for, that his name is Quentin Durward, that he is a Scot; that is to -say, as nobly born as a king, as poor as a Gascon, and proud, upon my -faith! as proud as himself. The old king, indeed, gets some wild cat -scratches from time to time; but he is used to that: these are the -perquisites of an incognito. Here is an instance. Martigny has gone to -order the breakfast. - - "Tell me, Maître Pierre," asks Quentin Durward of the king, - "what is that château which I see in the distance?" - - "It is the royal residence." - - "The royal residence! Why, then, those battlements, those - high walls, those large moats? Why so many sentinels posted - at regular distances? Do you know, Maître Pierre, that it - has rather the air of a fortress or of a prison than of the - palace of a king?" - - "You think so?" - - "Why such great precautions?... Tell me, Maître Pierre, if - you were king, would you take so much trouble to defend your - dwelling?" - - "But it is as well to be on one's guard; one has seen places - taken by surprise, and princes carried away just when they - least expected such a thing. It seems to me, besides, that - the king's safety demands ..." - - "Do you know a surer rampart for a king than the love of his - subjects?" - - "No, of course ... yet ..." - - "If my lot had placed me on the throne I would rather be - loved than feared; I would like the humblest of my subjects - to have free access to my person; I should rule with so - much wisdom that none would have approached me with evil - intention." - -That is not recommended either by Horace or by Boileau, but by the -leader of the _claque._[1] The fashion of giving advice to a king is -always creditable to an author: it is called doing the work of the -opposition; and such clap-trap methods appeal to the gallery. - -In spite of the advice given by Mély-Janin to Charles X. which the -latter should have followed as coming from a friend, he appointed the -Polignac Ministry. We know the consequences of that nomination. - -Martigny returns. The meal is ready; they sit down to the table. The -wine loosens their tongues, especially the small white wine which is -drunk on the banks of the Loire. Quentin Durward then informs the king -that he is not engaged in the service of any prince, that he is seeking -his fortune, and that he has some inclination to enlist in the Scots -Guards, where he has an uncle who is an officer. - -Here, you see, the drama begins to run on all fours with the romance. -But what a difference between the handling of the romance-writer and -that of the dramatist, between the man called Walter Scott and the -man called Mély-Janin. Now, as the conversation begins to become -interesting, the king rises and goes away without giving any other -reason for his departure than that which I myself give you, and which I -am obliged to guess at. If you question it, here is his bit-- - - "Adieu, Seigneur Quentin; we shall see each other again. - Rely upon the friendliness of Maître Pierre. (_Aside to - Martigny_) Be sure to tell him that which concerns him; I - leave thee free to do what thou deemest fitting." - - "Be at ease, sire." - -Left alone with Quentin Durward, Martigny at once informs him that the -Comtesse de Croy has taken refuge at the court of King Louis XI., and -lives in the ancient château which he points out to him. Then Quentin -Durward implores Martigny to go into the castle and give a letter to -Isabelle. - - "Ah! Sir Durward, what are you thinking about?" exclaimed - Martigny, who in his capacity as a citizen of Tours does not - know that the title of _Sir_ is only used before a baptismal - name. - - "You must, it is absolutely imperative!" insists Quentin. - - "I beg you to believe that if the thing were possible. - (_Aside_) I am more anxious to get in than he. (_Aloud_) - Listen, I foresee a way." - -You do not guess the way? It is, indeed, a strange one for a man who -does not dare to put a love-letter behind walls, doors, curtains, -tapestries and portières. You shall know the method employed before -long. - -Quentin Durward, left alone, informs the audience that the Comte -de Crèvecoeur, who comes to claim Isabelle, shall only have her at -the expense of his own life. In short, he talks long enough to give -Martigny time to enter the château, to see Isabelle, and to put the -method in question into practice-- - - "Well?" asks Quentin. - - "I have spoken to her." - - "What did she say?" - - "Nothing." - - "Nothing?" - - "Nothing at all; but she blushed, went pale and fainted." - - "She fainted? What happiness!" - - "When she regained consciousness she talked of taking the - air. Look, look, turn your eyes in that quarter." - - "My God! It is she! (_To Martigny_) Go away, I implore you!" - (_Martigny hides behind a mass of trees._) - -The method employed by the man who did not dare to get a note conveyed -into a closed room guarded by a confidant was to make Isabelle come out -into the open air, in full view of the château de Plessis-les-Tours. -Not bad, was it? Isabelle is in a tremble. And with good reason! She -knows that Martigny is the King's confidant, and she has her doubts -about Martigny being at a safe distance, Martigny, a gallant naturally -full of cunning, since he has better emissaries than those of the king, -and tells Louis XI. things he does not know. So she only comes on to -say to Quentin: "Be off with you!" Only, she says it in nobler terms -and in language more befitting a princess-- - - "Go away, I entreat you!" - - "One single word!" - - "I am spied upon, ... they might surprise us!" - - "But at least reassure my heart. What! go without seeing me! - ... Ah! cruel one! You do not know how much absence ..." - - "I must be cautious for both of us, Seigneur Durward; they - will explain everything to you. Go away!... Let it be - enough for the present to know that you are loved more than - ever. Go!" - - "But this silence ..." - - "Says more than any words ..." - - "Adieu, then!" - - [_He kisses the Countess's hand_.] - - "Come, depart!" says Eléonore. - - [_Quentin goes out at one side and the Countess at the - other_.] - - "And we will go and inform the king of all that has - happened," says Martigny, coming out from behind his thicket - of trees. - - END OF ACT I - -We clearly perceived that rascal Martigny hiding himself behind that -thicket; well, look what took place, notwithstanding: Isabelle and -Quentin Durward, who had greater interest in knowing it than we, had -no suspicion! Who says now that Youth is not confident? But now let us -pass on to the first act of _Louis XI._ by Casimir Delavigne, and let -us see if the national poet is much stronger and more realistic than -the royalist poet. - - -[1] Hired applauders. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - - Casimir Delavigne's _Louis XI_ - - -Here is very little incident in the drama we have just been analysing. -Very well, there is less still in the tragedy which we are about to -examine. - -Mély-Janin's _mise-en-scène_ is quite improbable enough, is it not? -Well--Casimir Delavigne's is more improbable still. In the first place, -the landscape is the same. Here is the description of it-- - -"_A countryside--the château of Plessis-les-Tours in the back ground, a -few scattered cottages at the side._ IT IS NIGHT." - -You must know that if I underline the last three words it is -not without a motive. As the curtain rises, Tristran, who is on -sentry-duty, stops and compels a poor peasant named Richard to go back -into his cottage instead of letting him go to Saint-Martin-des-Bois, to -obtain the consolations of religion for a dying man. The scene has no -other importance than to show in what manner the police of Louis XI. -act in the neighbourhood of Plessis-les-Tours. The peasant re-enters -his cottage, Tristran goes back into the fortress, and leaves the place -to Comines, who arrives on the scene, holding a roll of parchment, and -seats himself at the foot of an oak tree. It is still night. Guess why -Comines comes there, in that particular place, where the police guard -so strictly that they do not even allow peasants to go out to obtain -the viaticum for the dying, and where they can be seen from every -loophole in the château? Comines comes there to read his _Mémoires_, -which deal with the history of Louis XI. - -"But," you will say, "he cannot read because it is dark!" - -"Wait! the dawn is coming." - -"But, if dawn comes, Comines will be seen." - -"He will hide behind a tree." - -"Would it not be much simpler, especially at such an hour, _i.e._ four -o'clock in the morning, for him to re-read his _Mémoires_ in his own -home, in his study, with pen and ink at hand, in case he has anything -to add; with his pen-knife and eraser close by, if he has something to -delete?" - -"Yes, certainly, it would be much simpler; but don't you see that the -author needs Comines to do this particular business out of doors; so -poor Comines must, of course, do what the author wishes!" Comines -himself knows very well that he would be better elsewhere, and he has -not come there of his own will. He does not hide from himself the -danger he is incurring if they see him working at such a task, and if -his manuscripts were to fall under the king's notice. But listen to him -rather than to me-- - - "_Mémoires de Comines!_ Ah! si les mains du roi - Déroulaient cet écrit, qui doit vivre après moi, - Où chacun de ses jours, recueillis par l'histoire, - Laisse un tribut durable et de honte et de gloire, - Tremblant on le verrait, par le titre arrêté, - Pâlir devant son règne à ses yeux présenté!" - -I ask you what would have become of the historian who could have made -Louis XI. turn pale! But, no doubt, Comines, who knew the rebels of -the war of the _Bien Public_, the jailor of Cardinal la Balue and -especially the murderer of Nemours,--since he calculated on marrying -his daughter to the son of the victim,--absorbed in I know not what -spirit of pre-occupation, reading his _Mémoires_ in so dangerous a -place as this, will keep one eye open whilst he reads his _Mémoires_ -with the other. Not a bit of it! You can judge whether or not this is -what is meant by the stage-direction: _Doctor Coitier passes at the -back of the stage, looks at Comines and goes into Richard's cottage_." - -Thus, just as Louis XI. did not see Isabelle, though it was to his -interest to see her, so Comines, who is anxious not to be seen, is -seen and does not himself see. You tell me such absent-mindedness -cannot last long on the part of such a man as Comines. Second mistake! -Instead of waking out of his rêveries--"_He remains absorbed in his -reading_." With this result, that Coitier comes out of the peasant's -cottage and says-- - - "Rentrez, prenez courage: - Des fleurs que je prescris composez son breuvage; - Par vos mains exprimés, leurs sues adoucissants - Rafraîchiront sa plaie, et calmeront ses sens." - -Take particular note that these lines are said at the back of the -stage, that Comines is between the audience and the person who utters -them and that Comines--extraordinary to relate!--does not hear them, -whilst the public, which is at a double, triple, quadruple distance -from the doctor, hears them perfectly. Never mind! "_Without perceiving -Coitier_" our historian continues-- - - "Effrayé du portrait, je le vois en silence - Chercher un châtiment pour tant de ressemblance!" - -It seems to me that knowing so well to what he is exposing himself, -this was the moment or never for Comines to look round him. There is no -danger! He acts as children do who are sent to bed before their mother, -and who are so afraid in their beds that they shut their eyes in order -not to see anything. Only, there is this difference, that with children -the danger is fictitious, whilst in the case of Comines it is real; -children are children, and Comines is a man, a historian, a courtier -and a minister. Now, I perfectly understand the terror of children; but -I do not understand Comines's imprudence. And Coitier sees him, comes -up to him and actually claps him on the shoulder, before Comines has -either seen or heard Coitier. - - "COITIER (_clapping Comines on the shoulder._)-- - Ah! Seigneur d'Argenton, salut! - Comines, _tressaillant_ - Qui m'a parlé? - Vous!... Pardon, je rêvais ..." - -You might even, my dear Comines, say that you were sleeping, and that -your sleep was heavy and imprudent. - -Now why does Coitier, in his turn, bring Comines out of his dreams? Why -does he loiter outside Plessis-les-Tours, whilst the king is waiting -for him impatiently? Comines points this out to him; for poor Comines, -who takes little care of his own safety, looks to the well-being of -others, which ought to be Coitier's own affair, who is a doctor, rather -than his, who is a minister. - - "COMINES. - - Mais, vous, maître Coitier, dont les doctes secrets - Out des maux de ce roi ralenti les progrès, - Cette heure, à son lever, chaque jour vous rappelle: - Qui peut d'un tel devoir détourner votre zèle?" - -Coitier might well reply to him: "Et vous?" ... for it is more -surprising to see a historian under an oak at four o'clock in the -morning, than a doctor upon the high road. But he prefers rather to -reply-- - - "Le roi! toujours le roi! Qu'il attende!..." - -You tell me that it is in order to reveal the character of the person; -that Coitier does not love the king, whom he attends, and that, this -morning, in particular, he is angry with him for a crime which he had -failed to commit the previous day. It would have been more logical for -Coitier to be angry with Louis XI. for the crimes he has committed -than for those which he has failed to commit, all the more since, with -regard to the former, he would have had plenty to choose from. However, -here is the crime-- - - "COITIER. - - Hier, sur ces remparts, - Un pâtre que je quitte attira ses regards; - Des archers du Plessis l'adresse meurtrière - Faillit, en se jouant, lui ravir la lumière!" - -Which is equivalent to saying that the poor devil for whom Coitier, -the night before, had ordered _a draught of the soothing syrup which -would cool his wound_, had received an arrow from a cross-bow, either -in the arm or in the leg, it matters not where. But how can a draught -cool a wound unless the remedy be so efficacious that it can both be -administered as a drink and applied as a poultice? Now we will return -to the question we proposed a little while ago: Why, instead of going -to attend the king, who is impatient for him, does Coitier rouse -Comines out of his dreams? Bless me, what a question! Why, to develop -the tragedy. Now, this is what one learns in the development: that -Comines, who, in conjunction with Coitier, has saved Nemours, takes -with both hands all that Louis XI. gives him, in order to give it all -back again, in the future, to his future son-in-law. Coitier complains -bitterly, on his side, of the life led by the doctor to a king, and in -such round terms, that, if the king heard, he would certainly change -his doctor. The conversation is interrupted by Comines's daughter, -Marie, who arrives on foot, quite alone, at half-past four in the -morning!--where from, do you think? From looking for St. Francis de -Paul. Where has she been to look for him? History does not say, no more -than it does where Marie slept; it is, however, a question natural -enough for a father to address to his daughter. But Marie relates such -beautiful stories of the saint, who only needs canonisation to make him -a complete saint, that Comines thinks of nothing else but of listening -to her. - - "MARIE. - - Le saint n'empruntait par sa douce majesté - Au sceptre pastoral dont la magnificence - Des princes du conclave alleste la puissance: - Pauvre, et, pour crosse d'or, un rameau dans les mains, - Pour robe, un lin grossier, traînant sur les chemins; - C'est lui, plus humble encor qu'an fond de sa retraite! - - COITIER. - - Et que disait tout has cet humble anachorète, - En voyant la litière où le faste des cours - Prodiguait sa mollesse au vieux prélat de Tours, - Et ce cheval de prix dont l'amble doux et sage - Pour monseigneur de Vienne abrégeait le voyage? - - MARIE. - - Tous les deux, descendus, marchaient à ses côtés." - -Attention! for I am going to put a question to which I challenge you to -give an answer-- - - _Tous les deux, descendus, marchaient à ses côtés!_" - -Who is it who walks beside the humble anchorite? Was it the litter? -Was it the old prelate? Was it monseigneur from Vienna? Was it the -horse? If we take the sense absolutely given by the construction of -the sentence, it was not the prelate of Tours and the monseigneur of -Vienna who stepped down, the one from his litter, the other from his -horse, but the horse and the litter, on the contrary, who stepped -down, the one from the old prelate of Tours, the other from the -monseigneur of Vienna. The difficulty of understanding this riddle no -doubt decides Coitier to return to the king, leaving Marie alone with -her father. Then, Marie tells the latter a second piece of news, much -more interesting than the first, namely, that the Comte de Rethel has -arrived. - - "MARIE. - - Berthe, dont je le tiens, l'a su du damoisel - Qui portait la bannière où, vassal de la France, - Sous la fleur de nos rois, le lion d'or s'élance!" - -Which means, if I am not deceived, that the Comte de Rethel bears the -arms of gules either of azure on a golden lion, with a fleur-de-lys -_au chef._ One thing makes Marie especially happy: that the Comte de -Rethel is going to give her news of Nemours, whom he left at Nancy. In -fact, Nemours, whose father has been executed, cannot return to France -without exposing himself to capital punishment. Chanting is heard at -this juncture; it is the procession of St. Francis de Paul, which is -coming. - - "_Entendez-vous ces chants, dans la forêt voisine?_" - -Says Marie-- - - "_Le cortège s'avance et descend la colline._" - -No doubt, in his capacity as historian, Comines will be curious to see -so extraordinary a man as St. Francis de Paul. You are wrong. "Come -in!" says Comines drily; and he and his daughter leave the stage, -just as the head of the cortège appears in sight. But why on earth do -they leave the stage? Is there any reason for it? Yes, indeed, there -is a reason. Among the people in the procession is Nemours,--for the -supposed Comte de Rethel is no other than Nemours,--and neither Comines -nor Marie must know that he is there. Now what is Nemours doing under -the title of the Comte de Rethel? He has come to assassinate the king; -but before risking the stroke, he desires to receive absolution from -St. Francis de Paul. Now we know where the saint comes from; we have -learnt it in the interval; he comes from Frondi, five or six hundred -leagues away. Very well, will you believe that during the whole of that -long journey, with the saint in front of him, Nemours could not find a -more convenient place in which to ask absolution for the crime he wants -to commit, than the threshold of the château of the man he intends to -assassinate? We can now sum up the improbabilities of the first act -thus-- - -Comines is out of doors at four o'clock in the morning: first -improbability. He comes, before break of day, to read his _Mémoires_ -twenty yards from the château of Plessis-les-Tours: second -improbability. He does not look around him as he reads them: third -improbability. Coitier, in order to chat with him about matters they -both know perfectly well, keeps the king waiting for him: fourth -improbability. Marie arrives alone, at four in the morning: fifth -improbability. Her father never asks where she has slept: sixth -improbability. Nemours, after waiting for fifteen years, returns to -France in disguise to avenge the death of his father by assassinating -a king who is dying, and who, in fact, will die the following day: -eighth improbability. Finally, he wishes to receive absolution from -Saint Francis de Paul, and instead of making his confession in a room, -in a church, in a confessional, which would be the easiest thing to do, -he comes to confess at the gates of the château: ninth improbability, -which alone is worth all the eight other improbabilities! - -Shall I go any further, and shall I pass on from the first to the -second act? Bless me, no; it is too poor a job. Let us stop here. I -only wanted to prove that, when the audience grumbled, nearly hissed -and even hissed outright, at the first performance, it was not in -error, and that when it did not come to see _Louis XI._ during the -eight or ten times it was played, it was in the right. But is it true -that the public did not go to it? The takings of the first four nights -will show this-- - -First performance 4061 francs -Second " 1408 " -Third " 1785 " -Fourth " 1872 " - -Finally, why this failure during the first four representations, and -why such great success at the twentieth, thirtieth and fortieth? I am -going to tell you. M. Jouslin de la Salle was manager for nearly six -months, and, after he took up the management, not a play was a failure. -He created successes. When he saw that, at the fourth performance, -_Louis XI._ brought in eighteen hundred francs, he ordered those -few persons who came to hire boxes to be told that the whole of the -theatre was booked up to the tenth performance. The report of this -impossibility to get seats spread over Paris. Everybody wanted to have -them. Everybody had them. It was a clever trick! Now let some one else -than I take the trouble to undertake, in respect of the last four acts, -the work which I have just done in respect of the first, and they will -see that, in spite of Ligier's predilection for this drama, it is one -of the most indifferent of Casimir Delavigne's works. - - -END OF VOLUME V - - - - -NOTE - - (_BÉRANGER_) - - AU RÉDACTEUR DU JOURNAL _LA PRESSE_ - -Je reçois d'un ami de Béranger la réclamation suivante. Comme quelques -autres personnes pourraient avoir pensé ce qu'une seule m'écrit, -permettez-moi de répondre, par la voie de votre journal, non-seulement -à cette dernière, mais encore à toutes celles qui ne seraient pas -suffisamment renseignées sur la signification du mot "philosophe -épicurien." - -Voici la lettre du réclamant: - - "PASSY, PRÈS PARIS, 5 _septembre_ 1853 - "MONSIEUR,--J'ai lu les deux ou trois chapitres de vos - _Mémoires_ où vous parlez de Béranger, et où vous copiez - plusieurs de ses belles et prophétiques chansons. Vous - faites l'éloge de ce grand homme de cœur et d'intelligence. - C'est bien! cela vous honore: celui qui aime Béranger doit - être bon. Cependant, monsieur, vous posez cette question, - qui me semble un peu malheureuse pour vous; vous dites: - 'Maintenant, peut-être me demandera-t-on comment il se fait - que Béranger, républicain, habite tranquillement avenue de - Chateaubriand, n° 5, à Paris, tandis que Victor Hugo demeure - à Marine-Terrace, dans l'île de Jersey.' - - "Vous qui appelez M. Béranger votre père, vous devriez - savoir ce que tout le monde sait: d'abord, que le modeste - grand poète n'est pas un _philosophe épicurien_, comme il - vous plaît de le dire, mais bien un philosophe pénétré - du plus profond amour de l'humanité. M. Béranger habite - Paris, parce que c'est à Paris, et non ailleurs, qu'il peut - remplir son beau rôle de dévouement. Demandez à tous ceux - qui souffrent, n'importe à quelle opinion ils appartiennent, - si M. Béranger leur a jamais refusé de les aider, de les - secourir. Toute la vie de cet homme de bien est employée à - rendre service. À son âge, il aurait bien le droit de songer - à se reposer; mais, pour lui, obliger, c'est vivre. - - "Quand il s'agit de recommander un jeune homme bon et - honorable, quand il faut aller voir un prisonnier et lui - porter de paternelles consolations, n'importe où il y a du - bien à faire, l'homme que vous appelez un _épicurien_ ne - regarde pas s'il pleut ou s'il neige; il part et rentre, - le soir, harassé, mais tout heureux si ses démarches ont - réussi; tout triste, tout affligé si elles ont échoué. M. - Béranger n'a de la popularité que les épines. C'est là une - chose que vous auriez dû savoir, monsieur, puisque vous vous - intitulez son fils dans vos _Mémoires_ et un peu partout. - - "Pardonnez-moi cette lettre, monsieur, et ne doutez pas un - moment de mon admiration pour votre beau talent et de ma - considération pour votre personne. - "M. DE VALOIS - "Grande rue, 80, à Passy" - -Voici, maintenant, ma réponse: - - "MONSIEUR,--Vous m'avez--dans une excellente intention, - je crois--écrit une lettre tant soit peu magistrale pour - m'apprendre ce que c'est que Béranger, et pour me prouver - qu'il ne mérite en rien la qualification de _philosophe - épicurien_ que je lui donne. - - "Hélas! monsieur, j'ai peur d'une chose: c'est qu'en - connaissant très-bien Béranger, vous ne connaissiez très-mal - Épicure! - - "Cela me paraît fort compréhensible: Béranger habitait - Passy en l'an de Notre-Seigneur 1848, tandis qu'Épicure - habitait Athènes en l'an du monde 3683. Vous avez connu - personnellement Béranger, et je répondrais que vous ne vous - êtes certainement jamais donné la peine de lire un seul des - trois cents volumes que, au dire de _Diogine Laërce_, avait - laissés le fils de Néoclès et de Chérestrate. - - "Non, vous avez un dictionnaire de l'Académie dans votre - bibliothèque; vous avez pris ce dictionnaire de l'Académie; - vous y avez cherché le mot ÉPICURIEN, et vous avez lu la - définition suivante, que le classique vocabulaire donne de - ce mot: - - "ÉPICURIEN, sectateur d'Épicure. Il signifie, par extension, - _un voluptueux, un homme qui ne songe qu'à son plaisir._" - - "D'abord, monsieur, vous auriez dû songer, vous, que je ne - suis pas de l'Académie, et qu'il n'est point généreux de me - battre avec des armes que je n'ai ni forgées ni contribué à - forger. - - "Il en résulte que je ne me crois pas obligé d'accepter sans - discussion vos reproches, et de recevoir sans examen la - définition de MM. les Quarante. - - "Hélas! moi, monsieur, j'ai lu--mon métier de romancier - français m'y force--non-seulement les _Fragments d'Épicure_ - publiés à Leipzig en 1813, avec la version latine de - Schneider, mais aussi le corps d'ouvrage publié par - Gassendi, et renfermant tout ce qui concerne la vie et la - doctrine de l'illustre philosophe athénien; mais aussi la - _Morale d'Épicure_, petit in-8° publié en 1758 par l'abbé - Batteux. - - "En outre, je possède une excellente traduction de Diogène - Laërce, lequel, vivant sous les empereurs Septime et - Caracalla, c'est-à-dire 1680 ans avant nous et 500 ans après - Épicure, devait naturellement mieux connaître celui-ci que - vous et moi ne le connaissons. - - "Je sais bien, monsieur, que Timon dit de lui: - - "Vint, enfin, de Samos le dernier des physiciens; un maître - d'école, un effronté, et le plus misérable des hommes!" - - "Mais Timon le _sillographe_,--ne pas confondre avec Timon - le _misanthrope_, qui, vivant cent ans avant Épicure, ne - put le connaître;--Timon le _sillographe_ était un poète et - un philosophe satirique: il ne faut donc pas, si l'on veut - juger sainement Épicure, s'en rapporter à Timon le satirique. - - "Je sais bien, monsieur, que Diotime le stoïcien le voulut - faire passer pour un voluptueux, et publia, sous le nom - même du philosophe qui fait l'objet de notre discussion, - cinquante lettres pleines de lasciveté, et une douzaine de - billets que vous diriez être sortis du boudoir de M. le - marquis de Sade. - - "Mais il est prouvé, aujourd'hui, que les billets étaient de - Chrysippe, et que les lettres étaient de Diotime lui-même. - - "Je sais bien, monsieur, que Denys d'Halicarnasse a dit - qu'Épicure et sa mère allaient purgeant les maisons par - la force de certaines paroles; que le jeune philosophe - accompagnait son père, qui montrait à lire à vil prix - aux enfants; qu'un de ses frères--Épicure avait deux - frères--faisait l'amour pour exister, et que lui-même - demeurait avec une courtisane nommée Léontie. - - "Mais vous connaissez Denys d'Halicarnasse, monsieur: - c'était un romancier bien plus qu'un historien; ayant - inventé beaucoup de choses sur Rome, il a bien pu en - inventer quelques-unes sur Épicure. D'ailleurs, je ne vois - pas qu'il y eût grand mal au pauvre petit philosophe en - herbe d'accompagner sa mère, _qui purgeait les maisons avec - des paroles, et son pire, qui apprenait à lire à vil prix - aux enfants._ - - "Je voudrais fort que tous nos enfants apprissent à lire, et - plus le prix que les précepteurs mettraient à leurs leçons - serait vil, plus je les en estimerais,--en attendant que le - gouvernement nous donnât des maîtres qui leur apprissent - à lire pour rien! Quant à cette accusation qu'Épicure - _demeurait avec une courtisane nommée Léontie_, il me - semble que Béranger nous dit quelque part qu'il a connu - très-intimement deux grisettes parisiennes, l'une nommée - Lisette, l'autre Frétillon; supposez que deux grisettes de - Paris fassent l'équivalent d'une courtisane d'Athènes, et - l'auteur des _Deux sœurs de charité_ et du _Dieu des bonnes - gens_ n'aura rien à reprocher, ni vous non plus, monsieur, à - l'auteur des trente-sept livres de _la Nature._ - - "Je sais bien, monsieur, que Timocrate accuse notre - philosophe de n'être pas bon citoyen, et lui reproche - d'avoir eu une complaisance indigne et lâche pour Mythras, - lieutenant de Lysimachus; je sais bien encore qu'Épictète - dit que sa manière de parler était efféminée et sans pudeur; - je sais bien, enfin, que l'auteur des livres de _la Joie_ - dit qu'il vomissait deux fois par jour parce qu'il mangeait - trop. - - "Mais, monsieur, l'antiquité, vous ne l'ignorez pas, était - fort cancanière, et il me semble que Diogène Laërce répond - victorieusement à tous ces méchants propos par des faits. - - "Ceux qui lui font ces reproches, dit le biographe - d'Épicure, n'ont agi, sans doute, que par excès de folie. - - "Ce grand homme a de fameux témoins de son équité et de sa - reconnaissance; l'excellence de son naturel lui a toujours - fait rendre justice à tout le monde. Sa patrie consacra - cette vérité par les statues qu'elle dressa pour éterniser - sa mémoire; son nom fut célébré par ses amis,--dont le - nombre était si grand, que les villes qu'il parcourait ne - pouvaient les contenir,--aussi bien que par les disciples - qui s'attachèrent à lui à cause du charme de sa doctrine, - laquelle avait, pour ainsi dire, la douceur des sirènes. _Il - n'y eut_, ajoute le biographe, _que le seul Métrodore de - Stratonice, qui, presque accablé par l'excès de ses bontés, - suivit le parti de Carnéade!_" - - "Diogène Laërce continue, et moi avec lui: - - "Sa vertu fut marquée en d'illustres caractères par _la - reconnaissance et la piété qu'il eut envers ses parents_, et - par la douceur avec laquelle il traita ses esclaves; témoin - son testament, où il donna la liberté à ceux qui avaient - cultivé la philosophie avec lui, et particulièrement au - fameux Mus. - - "Cette même vertu fut, enfin, généralement connue par la - bonté de son naturel, _qui lui fit donner universellement à - tout le monde des marques d'honnêteté et de bienveillance_; - sa piété envers les dieux et _son amour pour sa patrie_ - ne se démentirent pas un seul instant jusqu'à la fin de - ses jours. _Ce philosophe eut, en outre, une modestie si - extraordinaire, qu'il ne voulut jamais se mêler d'aucune - charge de la République._ - - "Il est encore certain que, _malgré les troubles qui - affligèrent la Grèce, il y passa toute sa vie_, excepté deux - ou trois voyages qu'il fit sur les confins de l'Ionie, _pour - visiter ses amis_, qui s'assemblaient de tous côtés, _afin - de venir vivre avec lui dans un jardin qu'il avait acheté au - prix de quatre-vingts mines._" - - "En vérité, monsieur, dites-moi si, en faisant la part de la - différence des époques, ce portrait d'Épicure ne convient - pas de toutes façons à notre cher Béranger? - - "N'est-ce pas, en effet, de Béranger que l'on peut dire que - _son bon naturel lui a toujours fait rendre justice à tout - le monde;_ que _le nombre de ses amis est si grand, que - les villes ne peuvent les contenir_; que _le charme de sa - doctrine a la douceur de la voix des sirènes_; que _sa vertu - fut marquée en d'illustres caractères par la reconnaissance - et la piété qu'il eut envers ses parents_; que _son amour - pour sa patrie ne se démentit pas un instant jusqu'à la - fin de ses jours_, et qu'enfin, _il fut d'une modestie si - extraordinaire, qu'il ne voulut jamais occuper aucune charge - dans la République?_ - - "En outre, ce fameux jardin qu'Épicure avait acheté - quatre-vingts mines, et où il recevait ses amis, ne - ressemble-t-il pas fort à cette retraite de Passy et à cette - avenue Chateaubriand où tout ce qu'il y a de bon, de grand, - de généreux, a visité et visite encore le fils du tailleur - et le filleul de la fée? - - "Maintenant, monsieur, passons à ce malencontreux reproche - de volupté, d'égoïsme et de gourmandise qu'on a fait à - Épicure, et qui cause votre vertueuse indignation contre - moi et contre tous ceux qui, d'après moi, pourraient tenir - Béranger pour un _philosophe épicurien._ - - "Vous allez voir, monsieur, que ce reproche n'est pas mieux - fondé que celui qu'on me fait, à moi qui n'ai peut-être pas - bu dans ma vie quatre bouteilles de vin de Champagne, et qui - n'ai jamais pu fumer un seul cigare sans être vingt-quatre - heures malade, de ne savoir travailler qu'au milieu de la - fumée du tabac, des bouteilles débouchées et des verres - vides! - - "Un demi-setier de vin," dit Dioclès dans son livre de - _l'Incursion_, "suffisait aux épicuriens, et _leur breuvage - ordinaire n'était que de l'eau._" - - "Le témoignage de Dioclès ne vous suffit pas? Soit! Prenez, - parmi les épîtres d'Épicure lui-même, une lettre adressée à - un de ses amis, et voyez ce qu'il dit à cet ami: - - "Quoique je me tienne pour _satisfait d'avoir de l'eau et du - pain bis_, envoyez-moi _un peu de fromage cythridien, afin - que je puisse faire un repas plus excellent_, quand l'envie - m'en prendra." - - "Dites-moi, monsieur, cette sobriété du philosophe athénien - ne ressemble-t-elle pas beaucoup à celle du chansonnier _que - j'appelle mon père_, et qui veut bien, dans une lettre que - je reçois de lui en même temps que la vôtre, m'appeler son - fils? - - "Après tout cela, et pour corroborer ce que j'ai eu - l'honneur de vous dire sur ce pauvre Épicure,--si - calomnié, comme vous voyez, par Timon, par Diotime, par - Denys d'Halicarnasse, par Timocrate, par Épictète, par le - dictionnaire de l'Académie, et même par vous!--laissez-moi - vous citer deux ou trois des maximes qui faisaient le fond - de sa philosophie, et vous serez forcé d'avouer qu'elles - sont moins désolantes que celles de la Rochefoucauld. - - V - - "Il est impossible de vivre agréablement sans la prudence, - sans l'honnêteté et sans la justice. La vie de celui qui - pratique l'excellence de ces vertus se passe toujours dans - le plaisir; de sorte que l'homme qui est assez malheureux - pour n'être ni honnête, ni prudent, ni juste, est privé de - ce qui peut faire la félicité de la vie." - - XVI - - "Le sage ne peut et ne doit jamais avoir qu'une fortune - très-médiocre; mais, s'il n'est pas considérable par les - biens qui dépendent d'elle, l'élévation de son esprit et - l'excellence de ses conseils le mettent au-dessus des - autres." - - XVII - - "Le juste est celui qui vit sans trouble et sans désordre; - l'injuste, au contraire, est toujours dans l'agitation." - - XXIX - - "Entre toutes les choses que la sagesse nous donne pour - vivre heureusement, il n'y en a point de si précieuse qu'un - véritable ami: c'est un des biens qui nous procurent le plus - de joie dans la médiocrité!" - - "Je regrette, monsieur, de ne pouvoir pousser plus loin les - citations; mais je tiens à deux choses: la première, à vous - répondre poste pour poste, et la seconde, en vous répondant - poste pour poste, à vous prouver que, lorsque j'applique une - épithète quelconque à un homme de la valeur de Béranger, - c'est que j'ai la conviction, non-seulement instinctive, - mais encore raisonnée, que cette épithète lui convient. - - "J'espère donc que vous aurez l'obligeance d'écrire sur - votre dictionnaire de l'Académie, en marge de la très-fausse - définition donnée par la docte assemblée du mot ÉPICURIEN, - ces mots, qui lui serviront de correctif: - - "Sectateur d'Épicure, c'est-à-dire philosophe professant - qu'un ami est le premier des biens que puisse nous accorder - le ciel; que la médiocrité de la fortune est une des - conditions de la sagesse; que la sobriété est la base la - plus solide de la santé, et qu'enfin il est impossible de - vivre, non-seulement honnêtement, mais encore agréablement, - ici-has, sans la prudence, l'honnêteté et la justice.--NOTA. - Les épicuriens ne buvaient qu'un setier de vin par jour, - et, le reste du temps, se désaltéraient avec de l'eau pure. - Épicure, les jours de gala, mangeait sur son pain,--que, - les autres jours, il mangeait sec,--un peu de fromage - cythridien." - - "Et, ce faisant, monsieur, vous serez arrivé à avoir - vous-même et vous contribuerez à donner aux autres une idée - un peu plus exacte de l'illustre philosophe dont j'ai eu, à - votre avis, le malheur de dire que notre grand chansonnier - était le disciple. - - "Il me reste, en terminant, à vous remercier, monsieur, de - votre lettre, qui, malgré l'acrimonie de certaines phrases, - me paraît, au fond, inspirée par un bon sentiment. - - "Veuillez agréer mes salutations empressées. - - "ALEXANDRE DUMAS - "BRUXELLES, 7 _septembre_ 1853" - - - - - NOTE - - (_DE LATOUCHE_) - -"Si cette comédie fût tombée, au théâtre, sous l'accusation de manquer -aux premiers principes de la vie dans les arts, je l'aurais laissée -dans l'oubli qu'elle mérite peut-être; mais elle a été repoussée par -une portion du public, dans une seule et douteuse épreuve, sous la -prévention d'impudeur et d'immoralité; quelques journaux de mes amis -l'ont traitée d'obscénité révoltante, d'œuvre de scandale et d'horreur. -Je la publie comme une protestation contre ces absurdités; car, si -j'accepte la condamnation, je n'accepte pas le jugement. On peut -consentir à ce que le chétif enfant de quelques veilles soit inhumé par -des mains empressées, mais non qu'on écrive une calomnie sur sa pierre. - -"Ce que j'aurais voulu peindre, c'était la risible crédulité d'un roi -élevé par des moines, et victime de l'ambition d'une marâtre: ce que -j'aurais voulu frapper de ridicule, c'était cette éducation qui est -encore celle de toutes les cours de l'Europe; ce que j'aurais voulu -montrer, c'était la diplomatie rôdant autour des alcôves royales; ce -que j'aurais voulu prouver, c'était comment rien n'est sacré pour la -religion abaissée au rôle de la politique, et par quels éléments divers -les légitimités se perpétuent. - -"Au lieu de cette philosophique direction du drame, des juges prévenus -l'ont supposé complaisant au vice, et flatteur du propre dévergondage -de leur esprit. Et, pourtant, non satisfait de chercher une -compensation à la hardiesse de son sujet dans la peinture d'une reine -innocente, et dans l'amour profondément pur de celui qui meurt pour -elle, le drame avait changé jusqu'à l'âge historique de Charles II, -pour atténuer le crime de sa mère, et tourner l'infirmité de sa nature -en prétentions de vieillard qui confie sa postérité à la grâce de Dieu. - -"Mais, comme l'a dit un critique qui a le plus condamné ce qu'il -appelle l'incroyable témérité de la tentative, la portion de -l'assemblée qui a frappé d'anathème _la Reine d'Espagne_; ce public -si violent dans son courroux, si amer dans sa défense de la pudeur -blessée, ne s'est point placé au point de vue de l'auteur; il n'a pas -voulu s'associer à la lutte du poète avec son sujet; il n'a pas pris -intérêt à ce combat de l'artiste avec la matière rebelle. Armée d'une -bonne moralité bourgeoise, cette masse aveugle, aux instincts sourds et -spontanés, n'a vu, dans l'œuvre entière, qu'une espèce de bravade et de -défi; elle s'est scandalisée de ce qu'on voulait lui cacher, et de ce -qu'on osait lui montrer. Cette draperie à demi soulevée avec tant de -précaution, cette continuelle équivoque l'ont révoltée. Plus le style -et le faire de l'auteur s'assouplissaient, se voilaient, s'entouraient -de réticences, de finesse, de nuances pour déguiser le fond de la -pièce, plus on se choquait vivement du contraste. - -"Que voulez-vous!" m'écrivait, le soir même de mon revers, un de mes -amis,--car je me plais à invoquer d'autres témoignages que le mien dans -la plus délicate des circonstances où il soit difficile de parler de -soi,--"que voulez-vous! une idée fixe a couru dans l'auditoire; une -préoccupation de libertinage a frappé de vertige les pauvres cervelles; -des hurleurs de morale publique se pendaient à toutes les phrases, pour -empêcher de voir ce qu'il y a de naturel et de vrai dans la marche de -cette intrigue, qui serpente sous le cilice et sous la gravité empesée -des mœurs espagnoles. On s'est attaché à des consonnances; on a pris -au vol des terminaisons de mot, des moitiés de mot, des quarts de mot; -on a été monstrueux d'interprétation. Il y a eu, en effet, hydrophobie -d'innocence. J'ai vu des maris expliquer à leurs femmes comment telle -chose, qui avait l'air bonhomme, était une profonde scélératesse. -Tout est devenu prétexte à communications à voix basse; des dévots -se sont révélés habiles commentateurs, et des dames merveilleusement -intelligentes. Il y a de pauvres filles à qui les commentaires sur -les courses de taureaux vont mettre la bestialité en tête! Et tout ce -monde-là fait bon accueil, le dimanche, aux lazzi du Sganarelle de -Molière? Il y a de la pudeur à jour fixe." - -"Il se présentait, sans doute, deux manières de traiter cet aventureux -sujet. J'en avais mûri les réflexions avant de l'entreprendre. On -pouvait et on peut encore en faire une charade en cinq actes, dont -le mot sera enveloppé de phrases hypocrites et faciles, et arriver -jusqu'au succès de quelques-uns de ces vaudevilles qui éludent aussi -spirituellement les difficultés que le but de l'art; mais j'ai craint, -je l'avoue, que le mot de la charade (_impuissant_) ne se retrouvât au -fond de cette manière d'aborder la scène. Et puis, dans les pièces -de l'école de Shakspeare et de Molière, s'offrait une autre séduction -d'artiste pour répudier cette vulgaire adresse: chercher les moyens -de la nature, et n'affecter pas d'être plus délicat que la vérité. -Les conséquences des choix téméraires que j'ai faits m'ont porté à -résister à beaucoup d'instances pour tenter avec ce drame le sort des -représentations nouvelles. Encourager l'auteur à se rattacher à la -partie applaudie de l'ouvrage qu'on appelait dramatique, pour détruire -ou châtrer celle qu'il espérait être la portion comique, était un -conseil assez semblable à celui qu'on offrirait à un peintre, si on -voulait qu'il rapprochât sur les devants de sa toile ses fonds, ses -lointains, ses paysages, demi-ébauchés pour concourir à l'ensemble, et -qu'il obscurcît les figures de son premier plan. - -"Il fallait naïvement réussir ou tomber au gré d'une inspiration naïve. -Je crois encore, et après l'événement, qu'il y avait pour l'auteur -quelques chances favorables; mais le destin des drames ne ressemble pas -mal à celui des batailles: l'art peut avoir ses défaites orgueilleuses -comme Varsovie, et le capricieux parterre ses brutalités d'autocrate. - -"Ce n'est ni le manque de foi dans le zèle de mes amis, ni le sentiment -inconnu pour moi de la crainte de quelques adversaires, ni la bonne -volonté refroidie des comédiens qui m'ont conduit à cette résolution. -Les comédiens, après notre disgrâce, sont demeurés exactement fidèles -à leur première opinion sur la pièce. Et quel dévouement d'artiste -change avec la fortune? Le leur m'a été offert avec amitié. Je ne le -consigne pas seulement ici pour payer une dette de gratitude, mais -afin d'encourager, s'il en était besoin, les jeunes auteurs à confier -sans hésitation leurs plus périlleux ouvrages à des talents et à des -caractères aussi sûrs que ceux de Monrose, de Perrier, de Menjaud et -de mademoiselle Brocard, dont la grâce s'est montrée si poétique et la -candeur si passionnée. - -"Mais, au milieu même de notre immense et tumultueux aréopage, entre -les bruyants éloges des uns, la vive réprobation des autres, à travers -deux ou trois partialités bien rivales, il m'a été révélé, dans -l'instinct de ma bonne foi d'auteur, qu'il n'y avait pas sympathie -entre la donnée vitale de cette petite comédie et ce public d'apparat -qui s'assied devant la scène comme un juge criminaliste, qui se -surveille lui-même, qui s'impose à lui-même, qui prend son plaisir en -solennité, et s'électrise de délicatesse et de rigueur de convention. -Que ce fût sa faute ou la mienne, qu'au lieu de goûter, comme dit -Bertinazzi, _la chair du poisson_, le public de ce jour-là se fût -embarrassé les mâchoires avec les arêtes, toujours est-il que j'ai -troublé sa digestion. - -"Devant le problème matrimonial que j'essayais à résoudre sous la -lumière du gaz, au feu des regards masculins, quelques dignes femmes -se sont troublées peut-être avec un regret comique, peut-être avec -un soupir étouffé. Mais j'avais compté sur de plus universelles -innocences; j'espérais trouver la mienne par-dessus le marché de la -leur. J'ai mal spéculé. Il s'en est rencontré là de bien spirituelles, -de bien jolies, de bien irréprochables; mais pouvais-je raisonnablement -imposer des conditions générales? - -"J'ai indigné les actrices de l'Opéra, j'ai scandalisé des -séminaristes, j'ai fait perdre contenance à des marquis et à des -marchandes de modes! Vous eussiez, dès la troisième scène du premier -acte, vu quelques douairières dont les éventails se brisaient, se -lever dans leur loge, s'abriter à la hâte sous le velours de leur -chapeau noir, et, dans l'attitude de sortir, s'obstiner à ne pas le -faire pour feindre de ne plus entendre l'acteur, et se faire répéter, -par un officieux cavalier, quelques prétendues équivoques, afin de -crier au scandale en toute sécurité de conscience. L'épouse éplorée -du commissaire de police s'enfuit au moment où l'amoureux obtient -sa grâce.--Ceci est un fait historique.--Elle a fui officiellement, -enveloppée de sa pelisse écossaise! Je garde pour moi quelques curieux -détails, des noms propres, plus d'une utile anecdote, et comment la -clef forée du dandy était enveloppée bravement sous le mouchoir de -batiste destiné à essuyer les sueurs froides de son puritanisme. Mais -j'ai été perdu dans les cousins des grandes dames, qui se sont pris -à venger l'honneur des maris, quand j'ai eu affaire aux chastetés -d'estaminet et aux éruditions des magasins à prix fixe. - -"Seulement, Dieu me préserve d'entrer en intelligence avec les -scrupules de mes interprètes. Ma corruption rougirait de leur pudeur. - -"J'ai été sacrifié à la pudeur, à la pudeur des vierges du parterre; -car, aller supposer que j'ai pu devenir victime de la cabale, ce serait -une bien vieille et bien gratuite fatuité. Contre moi, quelques lâches -rancunes? Et d'où viendraient elles? Je n'ai que des amitiés vives et -des antipathies candides. A qui professe ingénument le mépris d'un -gouvernement indigne de la France, pourquoi des ennemis politiques? Et -pourquoi des ennemis littéraires à l'auteur d'un article oublié sur _la -Camaraderie_, et au plus paresseux des rédacteurs d'un bénin journal -qu'on appelle _Figaro?_ - -"Mais je n'ai pas voulu tomber obstinément comme tant d'autres après -vingt soirées de luttes, entre des enrouements factices, des sifflets -honnêtes et des applaudissements à poings fermés. Imposer son drame -au public, comme autrefois les catholiques leur rude croyance aux -Albigeois; chercher l'affirmation d'un mérite dans deux négations -du parterre; calculer combien il faut d'avanies pour se composer un -succès, c'est là un de ces courages que je ne veux pas avoir. Il -appartenait, d'ailleurs, à la reine d'Espagne de se retirer chastement -du théâtre; c'est une noble princesse, c'est une épouse vierge, élevée -dans les susceptibilités du point d'honneur de la France. - -"Quelques-uns aiment mieux sortir par la fenêtre que trébucher dans -les escaliers; à qui prend étourdiment le premier parti, il peut être -donné encore de rencontrer le gazon sous ses pas; mais, pour l'autre, -et sans compter la multiplicité des meurtrissures, il expose votre robe -de poète à balayer les traces du passant. - -"Cependant, au fond d'une chute éclatante, il y a deux sentiments -d'amertume que je ne prétends point dissimuler; mais je ne conseille -à personne autre que moi de les conseiller: le premier est la joie de -quelques bonnes âmes, et le second, le désenchantement des travaux -commencés. Ce n'est pas l'ouvrage attaqué qu'on regrette, mais -l'espérance ou l'illusion de l'avenir. Rentré dans sa solitude, ces -pensées qui composaient la famille du poète, il les retrouve en deuil -et comme éplorées de la perte d'une sœur, car vous vous êtes flatté -d'un avenir plus digne de vos consciencieuses études; le sort de -quelques drames prônés ailleurs avait éveillé en vous une émulation. -Si le triomphe de médiocrité indigne, il encourage; s'il produit la -colère, il produit aussi la confiance, et, à force d'être coudoyé à -tout moment par des grands hommes, le démon de l'orgueil vous avait -visité; il était venu rôder autour du lit où vous dormiez en paix; -il avait évoqué le fantôme de vos rêveries bizarres; elles étaient -descendues autour de vous, se tenant la main, vous demandant la vie, -vous jetant des sourires, vous promettant des fleurs, et, maintenant, -elles réclament toutes l'obscurité pour refuge. Ainsi tombe dans le -cloître un homme qu'un premier amour a trompé. - -"Mais, je le répète, que ce découragement ne soit contagieux pour -personne. Ne défendez pas surtout le mérite de l'ouvrage écarté comme -l'unique création à laquelle vous serez jamais intéressé. N'imitez -pas tel jeune homme qui se cramponne à son premier drame, comme une -vieille femme à son premier amour. Point de ces colères d'enfant contre -la borne où vous vous êtes heurté. Il faudrait oublier jusqu'à une -injustice dans les travaux d'un meilleur ouvrage. Que vos explications -devant le public n'aillent pas ressembler à une apologie, et songez -encore moins à vous retrancher dans quelque haineuse préface, à vous -créneler dans une disgrâce, pour tirer, de là, sur tous ceux que -vous n'avez pas pu séduire. Du haut de son buisson, la pie-grièche -romantique dispute peut-être avec le croquant; mais, si, au pied du -chêne ou il s'est posé un moment, l'humble passereau, toujours moqueur -et bon compagnon, entend se rassembler des voix discordantes, il va -chercher plus loin des échos favorable. - -"Je ne finirai pas sans consigner ici un aveu dont je n'ai pu trouver -la place dans la rapide esquisse de cet avertissement. Je déclare que -je dois l'idée première de la partie bouffone de cette comédie à une -grave tragédie allemande; plusieurs détails relatifs à la nourrice -Jourdan, à un excellent livre de M. Mortonval; la réminiscence d'un -sentiment de prêtre amoureux, au chapitre vu du roman de _Cinq-Mars_, -et, enfin, une phrase tout entière, à mon ami Charles Nodier. Cette -confession est la seule malice que je me permettrai contre les -plagiaires qui pullulent chaque jour, et qui sont assez effrontés -et assez pauvres pour ne m'épargner à moi-même ni leur vol, ni leur -silence. La phrase de Nodier, je l'avais appropriée à mon dialogue avec -cette superstition païenne qui pense éviter la foudre à l'abri d'une -feuille de laurier, avec la foi du chrétien qui essaye à protéger sa -demeure sous un rameau bénit. L'inefficacité du préservatif n'ébranlera -pas dans mon cœur la religion de l'amitié. - "H. DE LATOUCHE - -"AULNAY, _le_ 10 _novembre_ 1831" - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of My Memoirs, Vol. V, 1831 to 1832, by -Alexandre Dumas - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50768 *** |