The Blockade of Phalsburg: An Episode of the End of the Empire Read online

  V

  FATHER MOSES RECEIVES WELCOME NEWS

  The next day we must answer to the call before the mayoralty. All thechildren in town surrounded us and whistled. Fortunately, theblindages of the Place d'Armes were not finished, so that we went tolearn our exercises in the large court of the college, near the _cheminde ronde_ at the corner of the powder-house. As the pupils had beendismissed for some time, the place was at liberty.

  Imagine to yourself this large court filled with citizens in bonnets,coats, cloaks, vests, and breeches, obliged to obey the orders of theirformer tinkers, chimney-sweeps, stable-boys, now turned into corporals,sergeants, and sergeant-majors. Imagine these peaceable men, in fours,in sixes, in tens, stretching out their legs in concert, and marchingto the step, "One--_two_! One--_two_! Halt! Steady!" while others,marching backward, frowning, called out insolently: "Moses, dress thyshoulders!" "Moses, bring thy nose into line!" "Attention, Moses!Carry arms! Ah, old shoe, thou'lt never be good for anything! Can anyone be so stupid at his age? Look--just look! Thunder! Canst thounot do that? One--_two_! What an old blockhead! Come, begin again!Carry arms!"

  This is the way my own cobbler, Monborne, ordered me about. I believehe would have beaten me if it had not been for Captain Vigneron.

  All the rest treated their old patrons in the same way. You would havesaid that it had always been so--that they had always been sergeantsand we had always been soldiers. I heaped up gall enough against thisrabble to last fifty years.

  They in fine were the masters! And the only time that I remember everto have struck my own son, Safel, this Monborne was the cause of it.All the children climbed upon the wall of the _chemin de ronde_ to lookat us and laugh at us. On looking up, I saw Safel among them, and madea sign of displeasure with my finger. He went down at once; but at theclose of the exercise, when we were ordered to break ranks before thetown-house, I was seized with anger as I saw him coming toward me, andI gave him two good boxes on the ear, and said: "Go--hiss and mock atyour father, like Shem, instead of bringing a garment to cover hisnakedness--go!"

  He wept bitterly, and in this state I went home. Sorle seeing me comein looking very pale, and the little one following me at a distance,sobbing, came down at once to the door, and asked what was the matter.I told her how angry I was, and went upstairs.

  Sorle reproved Safel still more severely, and he came and begged mypardon. I granted it with all my heart, as you may suppose. But whenI thought that the exercises were to be repeated every day, I wouldgladly have abandoned everything if I could possibly have taken with memy house and wares.

  Yes, the worst thing I know of is to be ordered about by bullies whocannot restrain themselves when chance sets them up for a moment, andwho are not capable of receiving the idea that in this life everybodyhas his turn.

  I should say too much if I continued on this head. I would rather goon.

  The Lord granted me a great consolation. I had scarcely laid aside mycartridge-box and musket, so as to sit at the table, when Sorlesmilingly handed me a letter.

  "Read that, Moses," said she, "and you will feel better."

  I opened and read it. It was the notice from Pezenas that my dozenpipes of spirits were on their way. I drew a long breath.

  "Ah! that is good, now!" I exclaimed; "the spirits are coming by theordinary conveyance; they will be here in three weeks. We hear nothingfrom the direction of Strasburg and Sarrebruck; the allies arecollecting still, but they do not move; my spirits of wine are safe!They will sell well! It is a grand thing!"

  I smiled, and was quite myself again, when Sorle pushed the arm-chairtoward me, saying: "And what do you think of _that_, Moses?"

  She gave me, as she spoke, a second letter, covered with large stamps,and at the first glance I recognized the handwriting of my two sons,Fromel and Itzig.

  It was a letter from America! My heart swelled with joy, and Isilently thanked the Lord, deeply moved by this great blessing. Isaid: "The Lord is good. His understanding is infinite. He delightethnot in the strength of a horse; he taketh not pleasure in the legs of aman. He taketh pleasure in those that hope in his mercy."

  Thus I spoke to myself while I read the letter, in which my sonspraised America, the true land of commerce, the land of enterprisingmen, where everything is free, where there are no taxes or impositions,because people are not brought up for war, but for peace; the land,Fritz, where every man becomes, through his own labor, hisintelligence, his economy, and his good intentions, what he deserves tobe, and every one takes his proper place, because no important matteris decided without the consent of all;--a just and sensible thing, forwhere all contribute, all should give their opinions.

  This was one of their first letters. Fromel and Itzig wrote me thatthey had made so much money in a year, that they need no longer carrytheir own packs, but had three fine mules, and that they had justopened at Catskill, near Albany, in the State of New York, anestablishment for the exchange of European fabrics with cow-hides,which were very abundant in that region.

  Their business was prospering, and they were respected in the town andits vicinity. While Fromel was travelling on the road with their threemules, Itzig stayed at home, and when Itzig went in his turn hisbrother had charge of the shop.

  They already knew of our misfortunes, and thanked the Lord for havinggiven them such parents, to save them from destruction. They wouldhave liked to have us with them, and after what had just happened, inbeing maltreated by a Monborne, you can believe that I should have beenvery glad to be there. But it was enough to receive such good news,and in spite of all our misfortunes, I said to myself, as I thought ofFrichard: "But it is only to me that you can be an ass! You may harmme here, but you can't hurt my boys. You are nothing but a miserablesecretary of mayoralty, while I am going to sell my spirits of wine. Ishall gain double and treble. I will put my little Safel at your side,under the market, and he will beckon to everybody that is going intoyour shop; and he will sell to them at cost price rather than losetheir custom, and he will make you die of anger."

  The tears came into my eyes as I thought of it, and I ended byembracing Sorle, who smiled, full of satisfaction.

  We pardoned Safel over again, and he promised to go no more with thecursed race. Then, after dinner, I went down to my cellar, one of thefinest in the city, twelve feet high and thirty-five feet long, allbuilt of hewn stone, under the main street. It was as dry as an oven,and even improved wine in the long run.

  As my spirits of wine might arrive before the end of the month, Iarranged four large beams to hold the pipes, and saw that the well, cutin the rock, had enough water for mixing it.

  On going up about four o'clock, I perceived the old architect, Kromer,who was walking across the market, his measuring-stick under his arm.

  "Ah!" said I, "come down a minute into my cellar; do you think it willbe safe against the bombs?"

  We went down together. He examined it, measured the stones and thethickness of the arch with his stick, and said: "You have six feet ofearth over the key-stone. When the bombs enter here, Moses, it will beall over with all of us. You may sleep with both ears shut."

  We took a good drink of wine from the spout, and went up in goodspirits.

  Just as we set foot on the pavement, a door in the main street openedwith a crash, and there was a sound of glass broken. Kromer raised hisnose, and said: "Look yonder, Moses, at Camus's steps! Something isgoing on."

  We stopped and saw at the top of the railed staircase a sergeant ofveterans, in a gray coat, with his musket dangling, dragging FatherCamus by the collar. The poor old man clung to the door with bothhands to keep himself from falling; he succeeded at last in gettingloose, by tearing the collar from his coat, and the door shut with anoise like thunder.

  "If war begins now between citizens and soldiers," said Kromer, "theGermans and Russians will have fine sport."

  The sergeant, seeing the door shut and bolted within, tried to force itopen with blow
s from the butt-end of his musket, which caused a greatuproar; the neighbors came out, and the dogs barked. We were watchingit all, when we saw Burguet come along the passage in front, and beginto talk vehemently with the sergeant. At first the man did not seem tohear him, but after a moment he raised his musket to his shoulder witha rough movement, and went down to the street, with his shoulders upand his face dark and furious. He passed by us like a wild boar. Hewas a veteran with three chevrons, sunburnt, with a gray mustache,large straight wrinkles the whole length of his cheeks, and a squarechin. He muttered as he passed us, and went into the little inn of theThree Pigeons.

  Burguet followed at a distance, with his broad hat down to hiseyebrows, wrapped in his beaver-cloth great-coat, his head thrown back,and his hands in his pockets. He smiled.

  "Well," said I, "what has been going on at Camus's?"

  "Oh!" said he, "it is Sergeant Trubert, of the fifth company ofveterans, who had just been playing his tricks. The old fellow wantseverything to go by rule and measure. In the last fortnight he has hadfive different lodgings, and cannot get along with anybody. Everybodycomplains of him, but he always makes excuses which the governor andcommandant think excellent."

  "And at Camus's house?"

  "Camus has not too much room for his own family. He wished to send thesergeant to the inn; but the sergeant had already chosen Camus's bed tosleep in, had spread his cloak upon it, and said, 'My billet is forthis place. I am very comfortable here, and do not wish to change.'Old Camus was vexed, and finally, as you have just seen, the sergeanttried to pull him out, and beat him."

  Burguet smiled, but Kromer said: "Yes, all that is laughable. And yetwhen we think of what such people must have done on the other side ofthe Rhine!"

  "Ah!" exclaimed Burguet, "it was not very pleasant for the Germans, Iam sure. But it is time to go and read the newspaper. God grant thatthe time for paying our old debts may not have come! Good-evening,gentlemen."

  He continued his walk on the side of the square. Kromer went towardhis own house, while I shut the two doors of my cellar; after which Iwent home.

  This was the tenth of December. It was already very cold. Everynight, after five or six o'clock, the roofs and pavements were coveredwith frost. There was no more noise without, because people kept athome, around their stoves.

  I found Sorle in the kitchen, preparing our supper. The red flameflickered upon the hearth around the saucepan. These things are nowbefore my eyes, Fritz--the mother, washing the plates at the stonesink, near the gray window; little Safel blowing in his big iron pipe,his cheeks round as an apple, his long curly hair all disordered, andmyself sitting on the stool, holding a coal to light my pipe. Yes, itall seems here present!

  We said nothing. We were happy in thinking of the spirits of wine thatwere coming, of the boys who were doing so well, of the good supperthat was cooking. And who would ever have thought, then, thattwenty-five days afterward the city would be surrounded by enemies, andshells hissing in the air?