Part 2 Chapter 23
The Clergy, their Forests, LibertyThe first law for every creature is that of self-preservation, of life.
You sow hemlock, and expect to see the corn ripen!
MACHIAVELLIThe grave personage continued; one could see that he knew; he setforth with a gentle and moderate eloquence, which vastly delighted Julien, the following great truths:
(1) England has not a guinea at our service; economy and Hume arethe fashion there. Even the Saints will not give us any money, and MrBrougham will laugh at us.
(2,) Impossible to obtain more than two campaigns from the Monarchsof Europe, without English gold; and two campaigns will not be enoughagainst the middle classes.
(3) Necessity of forming an armed party in France, otherwise the monarchical principle in the rest of Europe will not risk even those twocampaigns.
'The fourth point which I venture to suggest to you as self-evident isthis:
'The impossibility of forming an armed party in France without the Clergy.Isay it to you boldly, because I am going to prove it to you, Gentlemen.
We must give the Clergy everything:
'(i) Because, occupying themselves with their own business night andday, and guided by men of high capacity established out of harm's waythree hundred leagues from your frontiers … '
'Ah! Rome! Rome!' exclaimed the master of the house …'Yes, Sir, Rome!' the Cardinal answered proudly. 'Whatever be themore or less ingenious pleasantries which were in fashion when you were young, I will proclaim boldly, in 1830, that the Clergy, guided byRome, speak and speak alone to the lower orders.
'Fifty thousand priests repeat the same words on the day indicated bytheir leaders, and the people, who, after all, furnish the soldiers, will bemore stirred by the voice of their priests than by all the cheap poems inthe world… .' (This personal allusion gave rise to murmurs.)'The Clergy have an intellect superior to yours,' the Cardinal went on,raising his voice; 'all the steps that you have taken towards this essentialpoint, having an armed party here in France, have been taken by us.' Herefacts were cited. Who had sent eighty thousand muskets to the Vendee?
and so forth.
'So long as the Clergy are deprived of their forests, they have no tenure. At the first threat of war, the Minister of Finance writes to his agentsthat there is no more money except for the parish priests. At heart,France is not religious, and loves war. Whoever it be that gives her war,he will be doubly popular, for to make war is to starve the Jesuits, in vulgar parlance; to make war is to deliver those monsters of pride, theFrench people, from the menace of foreign intervention.'
The Cardinal had a favourable hearing … 'It was essential,' he said,'that M. de Nerval should leave the Ministry, his name caused needlessirritation.'
Upon this, they all rose to their feet and began speaking at once. 'Theywill be sending me out of the room again,' thought Julien; but theprudent chairman himself had forgotten Julien's presence and indeed hisexistence.
Every eye turned to a man whom Julien recognised. It was M. de Nerval, the First Minister, whom he had seen at the Duc de Retz's ball.
The disorder was at its height, as the newspapers say, when reporting thesittings of the Chamber. After fully a quarter of an hour, silence began tobe restored.
Then M. de Nerval rose and, adopting the tone of an Apostle:
'I shall not for one moment pretend,' he said, in an unnatural voice,'that I am not attached to office.
'It has been proved to me, Gentlemen, that my name doubles thestrength of the Jacobins by turning against us a number of moderatemen. I should willingly resign, therefore; but the ways of the Lord arevisible to but a small number; but,' he went on, looking fixedly at theCardinal, 'I have a mission; heaven has said to me: "You shall lay down your head on the scaffold, or you shall reestablish the Monarchy inFrance, and reduce the Chambers to what Parliament was under LouisXV," and that, Gentlemen, I will do.'
He ceased, sat down, and a great silence fell.
'There is a good actor,' thought Julien. He made the mistake, then asalways, of crediting people with too much cleverness.
Animated by the debates of so lively an evening, and above all by thesincerity of the discussion, at that moment M. de Nerval believed in hismission. With his great courage the man did not combine any sense.
Midnight struck during the silence that followed the fine peroration'that I will do'. Julien felt that there was something imposing and funerealin the sound of the clock. He was deeply moved.
The discussion soon began again with increasing energy and above allwith an incredible simplicity. 'These men will have me poisoned,'
thought Julien, at certain points. 'How can they say such things before aplebeian?'
Two o'clock struck while they were still talking. The master of thehouse had long been asleep; M. de La Mole was obliged to ring to havefresh candles brought in. M. de Nerval, the Minister, had left at a quarterto two, not without having frequently studied Julien's face in a mirrorwhich hung beside him. His departure had seemed to create an atmosphere of relief.
While the candles were being changed: 'Heaven knows what that fellow is going to say to the King!' the man with the waistcoats murmuredto his neighbour. 'He can make us look very foolish and spoil our future.
'You must admit that he shows a very rare presumption, indeed effrontery, in appearing here. He used to come here before he took office;but a portfolio alters everything, swallows up all a man's private interests, he ought to have felt that.'
As soon as the Minister was gone, Bonaparte's General had shut hiseyes. He now spoke of his health, his wounds, looked at his watch, andleft.
'I would bet,' said the man with the waistcoats, 'that the General isrunning after the Minister; he is going to make his excuses for beingfound here, and pretend that he is our leader.'
When the servants, who were half asleep, had finished changing thecandles:
'Let us now begin to deliberate, Gentlemen,' said the chairman, 'and nolonger attempt to persuade one another. Let us consider the tenor of thenote that in forty-eight hours will be before the eyes of our friendsabroad. There has been reference to Ministers. We can say, now that M.
de Nerval has left us, what do we care for Ministers? We shall controlthem.'
The Cardinal showed his approval by a delicate smile.
'Nothing easier, it seems to me, than to sum up our position,' said theyoung Bishop of Agde with the concentrated and restrained fire of themost exalted fanaticism. Hitherto he had remained silent; his eye, whichJulien had watched, at first mild and calm, had grown fiery after the firsthour's discussion. Now his heart overflowed like lava from Vesuvius.
'From 1806 to 1814, England made only one mistake,' he said, 'whichwas her not dealing directly and personally with Napoleon. As soon asthat man had created Dukes and Chamberlains, as soon as he had restored the Throne, the mission that God had entrusted to him was at anend; he was ripe only for destruction. The Holy Scriptures teach us inmore than one passage the way to make an end of tyrants.' (Here followed several Latin quotations.)'Today, Gentlemen, it is not a man that we must destroy; it is Paris.
The whole of France copies Paris. What is the use of arming your fivehundred men in each Department? A hazardous enterprise and one thatwill never end. What is the use of involving France in a matter which ispeculiar to Paris? Paris alone, with her newspapers and her drawing-rooms, has done the harm; let the modern Babylon perish.
'Between the Altar and Paris, there must be a fight to the finish. Thiscatastrophe is indeed to the earthly advantage of the Throne. Why didnot Paris dare to breathe under Bonaparte? Ask the artillery of Saint-Roch.'
It was not until three o'clock in the morning that Julien left the housewith M. de La Mole.
The Marquis was depressed and tired. For the first time, in speaking toJulien, he used a tone of supplication. He asked him to promise never todisclose the excesses of zeal, such was his expression, which he hadchanced to witness. 'Do not mention it to our friend abroad, unless hedeliberately insists on knowing the nature of our young hotheads. Whatdoes it matter to them if the State be overthrown? They will be Cardinals, and will take refuge in Rome. We, in our country seats, shall be massacred by the peasants.'
The secret note which the Marquis drafted from the long report of sixand twenty pages, written by Julien, was not ready until a quarter tofive.
'I am dead tired,' said the Marquis, 'and so much can be seen from thisnote, which is lacking in precision towards the end; I am more dissatisfied with it than with anything I ever did in my life. Now, my friend,' hewent on, 'go and lie down for a few hours, and for fear of your being abducted, I am going to lock you into your room.'
Next day, the Marquis took Julien to a lonely mansion, at some distance from Paris. They found there a curious company who, Julien decided, were priests. He was given a passport which bore a false name,but did at last indicate the true goal of his journey, of which he had always feigned ignorance. He started off by himself in a calash.
The Marquis had no misgivings as to his memory, Julien had repeatedthe text of the secret note to him several times; but he was greatly afraidof his being intercepted.
'Remember, whatever you do, to look like a fop who is travelling tokill time,' was his friendly warning, as Julien was leaving the room.
'There may perhaps have been several false brethren in our assembly lastnight.'
The journey was rapid and very tedious. Julien was barely out of theMarquis's sight before he had forgotten both the secret note and his mission, and was thinking of nothing but Mathilde's scorn.
In a village, some leagues beyond Metz, the postmaster came to informhim that there were no fresh horses. It was ten o'clock at night; Julien,greatly annoyed, ordered supper. He strolled up and down outside thedoor and passed unperceived into the stable-yard. He saw no horsesthere.
'The man had a singular expression all the same,' he said to himself;'his coarse eye was scrutinising me.'
We can see that he was beginning not to believe literally everythingthat he was told. He thought of making his escape after supper, and inthe meanwhile, in order to learn something of the lie of the land, left hisroom to go and warm himself by the kitchen fire. What was his joy uponfinding there Signor Geronimo, the famous singer!
Comfortably ensconced in an armchair which he had made them pushup close to the fire, the Neapolitan was groaning aloud and talking more,by himself, than the score of German peasants who were gathered roundhim open-mouthed.
'These people are ruining me,' he cried to Julien, 'I have promised tosing tomorrow at Mayence. Seven Sovereign Princes have assembledthere to hear me. But let us take the air,' he added, in a significant tone.
When he had gone a hundred yards along the road, and was well outof earshot:
'Do you know what is happening?' he said to Julien; 'this postmaster isa rogue. As I was strolling about, I gave a franc to a little ragamuffin whotold me everything. There are more than a dozen horses in a stable at theother end of the village. They mean to delay some courier.'
'Indeed?' said Julien, with an innocent air.
It was not enough to have discovered the fraud, they must get on: thiswas what Geronimo and his friend could not manage to do. 'We mustwait for the daylight,' the singer said finally, 'they are suspicious of us.
Tomorrow morning we shall order a good breakfast; while they are preparing it we go out for a stroll, we escape, hire fresh horses, and reachthe next post.'
'And your luggage?' said Julien, who thought that perhaps Geronimohimself might have been sent to intercept him. It was time to sup and retire to bed. Julien was still in his first sleep, when he was awakened witha start by the sound of two people talking in his room, apparently quiteunconcerned.
He recognised the postmaster, armed with a dark lantern. Its light wasconcentrated upon the carriage-trunk, which Julien had had carried upto his room. With the postmaster was another man who was calmly going through the open trunk. Julien could make out only the sleeves of hiscoat, which were black and close-fitting.
'It is a cassock,' he said to himself, and quietly seized the pocket pistolswhich he had placed under his pillow.
'You need not be afraid of his waking, Monsieur le Cure,' said thepostmaster. 'The wine we gave them was some of what you preparedyourself.'
'I can find no trace of papers,' replied the cure. 'Plenty of linen, oils, pomades and fripperies; he is a young man of the world, occupied with his own pleasures. The envoy will surely be the other, who pretends tospeak with an Italian accent.'
The men came up to Julien to search the pockets of his travelling coat.
He was strongly tempted to kill them as robbers. This could involve nodangerous consequences. He longed to do it… 'I should be a mere fool,'
he said to himself, 'I should be endangering my mission.' After searchinghis coat, 'this is no diplomat,' said the priest: he moved away, and wisely.
'If he touches me in my bed, it will be the worse for him!' Julien wassaying to himself; 'he may quite well come and stab me, and that I willnot allow.'
The cure turned his head, Julien half-opened his eyes; what was his astonishment! It was the abbe Castanede! And indeed, although the twomen had tried to lower their voices, he had felt, from the first, that he recognised the sound of one of them. He was seized with a passionate desire to rid the world of one of its vilest scoundrels …'But my mission!' he reminded himself.
The priest and his acolyte left the room. A quarter of an hour later,Julien pretended to awake. He called for help and roused the wholehouse.
'I have been poisoned,' he cried, 'I am in horrible agony!' He wanted apretext for going to Geronimo's rescue. He found him half asphyxiatedby the laudanum that had been in his wine.
Julien, fearing some pleasantry of this kind, had supped upon chocolate which he had brought with him from Paris. He could not succeed inarousing Geronimo sufficiently to make him agree to leave the place.
'Though you offered me the whole Kingdom of Naples,' said the singer, 'I would not forgo the pleasure of sleep at this moment.'
'But the seven Sovereign Princes!'
'They can wait.'
Julien set off alone and arrived without further incident at the abode ofthe eminent personage. He spent a whole morning in vainly soliciting anaudience. Fortunately, about four o'clock, the Duke decided to take theair. Julien saw him leave the house on foot, and had no hesitation in going up to him and begging for alms. When within a few feet of the eminent personage, he drew out the Marquis de La Mole's watch, and flourished it ostentatiously. 'Follow me at distance,' said the other, withoutlooking at him.
After walking for a quarter of a league, the Duke turned abruptly in toa little Kaffeehaus. It was in a bedroom of this humblest form of inn thatJulien had the honour of reciting his four pages to the Duke. When hehad finished: 'Begin again, and go more slowly,' he was told.
The Prince took down notes. 'Go on foot to the next post. Leave yourluggage and your calash here. Make your way to Strasbourg as best youcan, and on the twenty-second of the month'—it was now the tenth—'bein this coffee-house here at half-past twelve. Do not leave here for half anhour. Silence!'
Such were the only words that Julien heard said. They sufficed to fillhim with the deepest admiration. 'It is thus,' he thought, 'that onehandles affairs; what would this great statesman say if he had heardthose hotheaded chatterboxes three days ago?'
Julien took two days to reach Strasbourg, he felt that there was nothing for him to do there. He made a wide circuit. 'If that devil, the abbeCastanede has recognised me, he is not the man to be easily shakenoff … And what a joy to him to make a fool of me, and to spoil mymission!'
The abbe Castanede, Chief of Police to the Congregation along thewhole of the Northern frontier, had mercifully not recognised him. Andthe Jesuits of Strasbourg, albeit most zealous, never thought of keepingan eye on Julien, who, with his Cross and his blue greatcoat, had the airof a young soldier greatly concerned with his personal appearance.
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