"I took my pipe and got up; for I began to feel my eyes
growing moist, and that was not becoming to me.
growing moist, and that was not becoming to me.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v26 - Tur to Wat
Nothing is accomplished; the public talks
of nothing else; to-morrow in the field! They strip to their sus-
penders, they even remove their suspenders; they take swords,
cross them, the steel emits sparks. One, two! One, two! . They
thrust, they ward off. The fencer thrusts, the thruster fences.
One, two! Thrusts here, thrusts there, thrusts everywhere! Flic,
flac! More thrusts! What thrusts, what fire in the steel, what
steel in fire, what fire in the hearts! The sweat pours and is not
wiped ! At last one of those cruel swords touches one of those
cruel men; the blood starts. Stop, rash fellows! Honor is sat-
isfied!
The wounded lost a few hairs of his left eyebrow.
## p. 15341 (#289) ##########################################
15341
ALFRED DE VIGNY
(1797-1863)
BY GRACE KING
(
LFRED VICTOR, Comte de Vigny, is represented in the volu-
minous literature of his country in the nineteenth century
by. a mere handful of books: briefly, by two volumes of
poetry, Poésies Antiques et Modernes' and Les Destinées); by a
novel, Cinq Mars'; a comedy, “Quitte pour la Peur' (Let Off with a
Scare); a prose epic, “Stello'; four tales from military life, Military
Servitude and Grandeur'; a play, Chatter-
ton'; and The Journal of a Poet. ' And
in the resounding fame of great contem-
poraries and successors in literature, De
Vigny's name and this handful of books
might, with easy supposition, have been rel-
egated to the position of a dwindling and
expiring reminiscence of the past; the fate
of long catalogues of successful writers and
books of his day. De Vigny's name and
work, however, have gained rather than lost
lustre by the friction of time upon them;
and the eulogy by Théophile Gautier, that
he was “the purest glory of the romantic ALFRED DE VIGNY
school,” is as fresh in its truth to-day, as
when it was penned over a half-century ago. Of all the romanticists,
he remains, to the critical eyes of to-day, as the most genuine, the
most sincere, and the least illogical; in short, as a romanticist by
blood, birth, and traditions, not by school or profession of faith.
He was born at Loches in Touraine, in 1797, the last descendant
of a once wealthy and distinguished family. Through his mother, he
was connected with great admirals and sea captains; through his
father, with courtiers, army officers, and princely seigneurs. Ruined
by the Revolution, his parents removed to Paris; where they con-
secrated their life, and what fortune remained to them, to his edu-
cation. On the knees of his white-haired father, an old courtier of
Louis XV. and a crippled veteran of the Seven Years' War, the child
learned to know Louis XV. , the great Frederick, Voltaire, and the
»
## p. 15342 (#290) ##########################################
15342
ALFRED DE VIGNY
history of the great campaigns of the past century; and was taught
war, he relates, by his father's wounds, by the parchments and
escutcheons of his family, by the portraits in armor of his ancestors,
— the nobility acting the rôle of a great family of hereditary soldiers.
He was barely sixteen when the Restoration opened to him the
predestined career, as he saw it, of the sons of the nobles of France.
He entered the household troops of the King, a company composed
of young men of family, all graded as sous-lieutenants. But France,
as he says, had sheathed her sword «in the scabbard of the Bour-
bons”: with Napoleon the glory of army life had departed; only
the dullness and routine of it remained. To while away the bur-
densome hours of ennui during his garrison life, the young officer
returned to his early and precocious passion for poetry. His haver-
sack library, consisting of the Bible and a few classics, ministered
to him as Muse. In 1822 he published the collection of these first
essays, - 'Poems Ancient and Modern. ' It contained some of his
best pieces: Moses,' (The Deluge,' (The Adulterous Woman. ' The
following year he published his Eloa. ' The historical novel of
Cinq Mars) (1826) was however the maker of De Vigny's reputation
in literature. Based upon a fine episode of the reign of Louis XIII. ,
its dramatic interest, the virile strength of its characters, its brilliant
coloring, and the elevated purity and elegance of its style and lan-
guage, insured it a success that has been prolonged until the book
has become fixed in its reputation as a modern classic.
After fourteen years of pacific and inglorious service, during which
he attained only to the rank of captain, De Vigny resigned from the
army. In Paris he retired into what Sainte-Beuve wittily called his
ivory tower,” a life of seclusion, aristocratic and mediæval in its lofty
isolation. He emerged but once,- in 1842, to take his seat in the
French Academy. He died in 1863, leaving ready for publication a
volume of poems, "Les Destinées,' and a collection of personal notes
and reflections which was published by his literary executor as “The
Journal of a Poet. ' This last volume contains some of the most
exquisite passages of his writings and of his life: the long painful
illness of his mother; his devotion, her death, and his grief; and
afterwards, the long years of devotion to his invalid wife.
Placed chronologically by birth between Victor Hugo and Lamar-
tine, De Vigny's intrinsic value as a poet receives its best illustra-
tion from the juxtaposition. His originality, as Sainte-Beuve says, “is
distinct from both, in its inspiration and filiation: we can connect
Victor Hugo and Lamartine with anterior French poetry, but in it
we vainly seek the parentage of Moses, Eloa, and Dolorida. ”
De Vigny's earliest conception of the fatal and sublime gift of
genius, - condemning man to solitude and sadness, imprisoning him
»
## p. 15343 (#291) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15343
in his own greatness," as it has been expressed, - became his master
idea through life. It appeared first in Moses,' and reappeared in all
his writings, poetry and prose, in different reincarnations;- in the
Maison de Berger,' idyllic, in love; in Stello,' tragic, in the suffer-
ings of the modern poet; the idea reaches its culmination in moral
grandeur in Military Servitude and Grandeur,' where self-abnegation
and virile honor are depicted as the only ransom of greatness, and
the price of the happiness of the common mortal.
Grace Krug
MOSES
.
H*
E SAID unto the Lord:-“Shall I ne'er be done ?
Where wilt thou still that I my footsteps turn ?
Am I to live for aye, great, powerful, and alone ?
Give me, ah, give me leave to sleep the sleep of earth!
What did I to thee to be chosen thine elect?
Let now some other stand 'twixt thee and thine!
Some other curb thy wild steed, Israel!
I gladly make him heir to book and brazen rod.
Why needest thou have dried up all my hopes ?
Why not have left me man in all my ignorance?
Alas! thou madest me wise among the wise:
My finger showed thy wandering race its path,
I called down fire upon the heads of kings,
And future time will kneel before my laws.
I am the Great: my feet tread nations' necks,
My hand holds generations in its will.
Alas, my Lord! I am great - I am alone:
Give me — ah, give me leave to sleep the sleep of earth! )
ELOA
O
N THE snowy mountain crown of the hamlet,
The Spaniard has wounded the Asturian eagle
That threatened his white bounding flock.
With bristling plumes, and raining down blood,
The bird strikes upward to heaven, quick as a flash could descend,
## p. 15344 (#292) ##########################################
15344
ALFRED DE VIGNY
Gazing up at his sun! breathing it in with wide-open beak,
As if once again his life to retake from the empire of flame.
In the golden air he swims with great strokes,
Hovers a moment in rest, 'mid the bright darting rays, –
But the aim of the man was too sure:
The hot ball burns like a coal in his wound;
His wing drops its shafts, his royal mantle its plumes;
Dispossessed of his heights, his weight bears him down,-
He sinks into the snow of the mount, with wild heaving breast;
And the cold of the earth, with its heavy death sleep,
Shuts the eyes that held the respect of the sun.
LAURETTE, OR THE RED SEAL
T"
still sang
He grand route of Artois and Flanders is long and desolate.
It extends in a straight line, without trees, without ditches,
through countries flat and covered with yellow mud at all
times. In the month of March 1815 I passed along this route,
and had a rencontre which I have never since forgotten.
I was alone. My comrades were ahead on the route in the
suite of the King, Louis XVIII. I saw their white capes and
red capes at the very horizon of the north. A lost shoe retarded
my horse. He was young and strong. I urged him on to rejoin
my squadron; he started at a rapid trot. It still rained, and I
But I soon stopped, tired of hearing only my own
self; and then I heard only the rain, and my horses' feet which
plashed the beaten track. On examining intently this yellow
line of the road, I remarked at about a quarter of a mile dis-
tant a small black point which moved. This gave me pleasure:
it was some person. I hurried my steps. At about a hundred
paces I could clearly distinguish a little wagon of white wood,
covered with three circles and black oilcloth; it resembled a lit-
tle cradle placed on two wheels; the wheels sank to their hubs
in the mud. The little mule which dragged it was carefully
led by a man on foot who held the bridle. He was a man of
about fifty years, with white mustache, strong and tall. He had
a hard but good face, such as is frequently seen in the army.
Having seen his white cockade, I contented myself with show-
ing him the sleeve of my red coat, and then he replaced his gun
in the cart. —“Will you have a drop? ” -“Willingly," I replied,
approaching: "I have not drunk in twenty-four hours. ” He had
(C
(
## p. 15345 (#293) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15345
>
(
»
.
at his neck a cocoanut very well carved, made into a flagon, with
a silver mouthpiece, of which he seemed rather proud. He
passed it to me, and I drank a little of the bad white wine with
much pleasure. I returned the cocoanut to him. We went on
for about a quarter of a mile without saying anything. Then
as he stopped to rest his poor little mule, which it pained me
to look at, I stopped too, to empty my boots of the water which
filled them. “Your boots begin to stick to your feet,” said he.
«It is four nights since I took them off,” said I. «Bah! in eight
«
days you will no longer think of them,” he replied in his hoarse
voice. "Do you know what I have in there? ” “No,” said I
to him. - “It is a woman. " — I said, “Ah! ” without too much
surprise, and I began to walk tranquilly on.
He followed me.
« You do not care ? What I said then ought to astonish you. ”
_“I am but little astonished,” I said. — “Oh! but if I should
tell you how I left the sea, we should see. ” — “Well,” replied I,
» «
“why not try? That would warm you up, and would make me
forget that the rain is running down my back and out at my
heels. ”
“You must know first, my boy, that I was born at Brest. I
started by being the child of the troop, earning my half-rations
and my half-stipend from the age of nine; my father being a
soldier in the guards. But as I loved the sea, - on a beautiful
night while I was on leave of absence in Brest, I hid myself in
the hold of a merchant vessel leaving for the Indies: I was only
discovered in mid-ocean, and the captain preferred making me
a cabin-boy to throwing me overboard. When the Revolution
came I had made my way, and had in my turn become captain of
a little merchant vessel, — full of zest, having skimmed the ocean
for fifteen years. As the royal ex-marine- ma foi! the good
old marine - all of a sudden found itself depopulated of officers,
captains were taken from the merchant marine. I had had some
filibustering affairs, of which I may tell you later. They gave
me command of a brig of war named the Marat. The 28th Fruc.
tidor 1797 I received orders to weigh for Cayenne. I was to
convey sixty soldiers; and one exile, who was left over from the
one hundred and ninety-three taken on board by the frigate
La Decade a few days before. I had orders to treat this individ-
ual with consideration; and the first letter of the Directoire con-
tained a second, closed with three red seals, one amongst them of
unusual size. I was forbidden to open this letter before the first
XXVI–960
-
## p. 15346 (#294) ##########################################
15346
ALFRED DE VIGNY
degree of latitude north from the twenty-seventh to the twenty-
eighth of longitude, - that is, near to passing the line. This big
letter had a shape all its own. It was long, and so tightly closed
that I could not read between the angles, nor through the envel-
ope. I am not superstitious, but it made me afraid.
"I was occupied in putting this letter under the glass of the
clock when my exile entered my room; he held by the hand
a beautiful young girl, about seventeen years old. He told me
that he was nineteen; a fine-looking boy, though a little pale,
and too white for a man. His little wife was fresh and gay as
a child. They looked like two turtle-doves. It gave me pleasure
to see them. I said to them, 'Well, my children, you have come
to visit the old captain ? That is very good of you. I am tak-
ing you rather far away, but so much the better: we shall have
time to become acquainted. I am sorry to receive madame with-
out my coat, but I was nailing that great rascally letter 'way up
there. If you would help me a little? That made good little
children of them. The little husband took the hammer, and the
little wife the nails, and they passed them to me as I asked for
them; and she called to me, « To the right! to the left! captain! ”
laughing as she did so, for the pitching made my clock unsteady.
Ah! ' I said, little mischief! I shall make your husband scold
you, see if I do not. ' Then she threw her arms about his neck
and kissed him. They were really very nice. We immediately
became good friends. The trip was beautiful. I always did
have weather made to order. As I had none but black faces on
board, I made the two little lovers come to my table every other
day. It enlivened me. When we had eaten the biscuits and
fish, the little wife and her husband would remain gazing at each
other, as if they had never one another before. Then I
would begin to laugh with all my heart, and make fun of them.
They too would laugh with me. You would have laughed too,
to see us laughing like three imbeciles, not knowing what was
the matter with us.
They slept in a hammock, where
the vessel would roll them over and over like these two pears,
which I have here in my wet handkerchief. They were lively
and contented. I did as you do: I did not question. What need
was there that I should know their name and their affairs ? I
was taking them across the sea, as I would have taken two birds
of Paradise.
I ended after a month by looking on them
as my children. All day long, when I called them, they would
seen
.
## p. 15347 (#295) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15347
am
come and sit by me. The young man wrote at my table, — that
is, on my bed: and when I wished it, he would help me to keep
my course; he soon knew how to do it as well as I, and I was
sometimes forbidden to do it. The young woman would seat
herself on a little barrel, and sew. One day as they were thus
sitting, I said to them :-
« Do you know, little friends, that we make a fine family
picture as we are now? I do not want to question you; but
probably you have not more money than you need, and you are
both prodigiously delicate to spade and hoe, as the exiles do in
Cayenne. It is an ugly country; I tell you the truth: but I, who
an old wolfskin dried in the sun, I could live there like a
lord. If you have, as it seems to me you have (without wishing
to question you), a little friendship for me, I will willingly leave
my old brig, which is only a sabot now, and establish myself with
you, if it would please you. I have no more family than a dog,
and that worries me: you would be a little society for me. I
would help you in many things: I have saved up a nice little
heap, on which we can live, and which I shall leave to you when
I come to turn up my eyes, as we say politely. ' Astonished,
they looked at one another, apparently believing that I had not
spoken the truth; then the little one ran, as she always did,
threw herself on the bosom of the other, and sat on his knee,
all red and weeping. He pressed her close in his arms, and I
saw tears in his eyes too; he stretched out his hand to me and
became paler than usual. She spoke softly to him, and her
long blonde tresses fell on his shoulder; her twist had become
undone, like a cable which unrolls suddenly. That hair — if you
had seen it! it was like gold.
"As they still spoke low, the young man kissing her brow
,
from time to time, and she weeping, I grew impatient. Well,
does that suit you? I said at last. But — but, captain, you
are very good;' said the husband, but - you could not live with
deported convicts he lowered his eyes.
«T,' said I, do not know what you have done to be exiled;
but you shall tell me some day if you choose, or you shall not
if you choose. You do not seem to me to have a very heavy
conscience; I am very sure that I have done much more in my
life than you, poor innocents! For instance, as long as you are
under my guard, I shall not let you go: you need not expect
it; I would sooner cut your throats as I would two pigeons. But
(
## p. 15348 (#296) ##########################################
15348
ALFRED DE VIGNY
(
my child?
>
once my epaulet removed, I know no longer either admiral or any.
thing else.
«What I am thinking is,' he replied, sadly shaking his brown
head, slightly powdered as it was still worn in those days, that
it would be dangerous for you, captain, to seem to know us.
We
laugh because we
are so young; we seem to be happy because
we love each other: but I have some ugly moments when I
think of the future, and I do not know what will become of
my poor Laure. ' He again pressed the young wife's head to his
breast. (That was what I should say to the captain, was it not,
Would you not have said the same thing ? ?
"I took my pipe and got up; for I began to feel my eyes
growing moist, and that was not becoming to me.
«Come, come! ' I said: that will all be cleared up after a
while. If the tobacco is unpleasant to madame, her absence will
be necessary. She arose, her face all on fire and wet with tears,
like a child that has been scolded.
« And yet,' she said, looking at my clock, you two do not
think about it that letter! ?
"I felt as if something had struck me. I had a kind of pain
up
under
my
hair when she said that to me.
(Pardieu! I did not think of it,' I said. Ah, here indeed
is a pretty affair! If we have passed the first degree north, all
I can do is to throw myself overboard! ' I must be lucky: that
child reminded me of that devilish letter!
"I looked quickly at my marine map; and when I saw that
there was still a week ahead of us, my head felt easier, but not
my heart, - I could not tell why.
«It is because the Directory does not joke about the article
obedience! ' I said. "Good!
once more afloat this time.
Time few so quickly that I had entirely forgotten it. '
“Well, sir, we remained all three with our noses in the air,
looking at that letter as if it were going to speak to us. What
struck me very much was that the sun, which slipped in through
the skylight, lit up the glass of the clock, and made the big red
seal and the other little ones seem like features of a face in
the midst of fire.
« Would not one say that the eyes were starting from his
head? ) I said to amuse them.
««Oh! my friend,' said the young woman, “it looks like blood
stains. '
-
I am
(
## p. 15349 (#297) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15349
(c
« « Bah! bah! ' said her husband, laying her arm in his, you
are mistaken, Laure: it looks like a card of announcement of
a marriage. Come and rest yourself, come: why let that letter
bother you ? '
“They went off. I remained alone with that big letter; and
I remember that while smoking my pipe, I continued to look at
it, as if those red eyes had attached mine to them by drawing
them ever as do the eyes of a serpent.
« The night was more beautiful than any I had ever seen in
my life so near the tropics The moon rose on the horizon as
large as a sun; the sea cut it in half, and became all white, like
a cloth of snow covered with little diamonds. I was glad to hear
nothing. I love silence and order. I had forbidden all noises
and all fires. Nevertheless I perceived a small red line almost
under my feet. I should have got into a temper instantly; but as
it was in the cabin of my little convicts, I wished to be sure of
what they were doing before I grew angry. I had only to bend
down: I could see through the big hatchway into the little room,
and I looked. The young wife was on her knees praying. A
small lamp threw its light on her. I thought I would slip away,
but I said, 'Bah! an old soldier, what does it matter? ' And
I remained to see. While she prayed, her husband took the
ends of her long hair and kissed them noiselessly. When she had
.
finished she made the sign of the cross, with the air of going to
paradise. She got up, kissed him, and stretched herself in the
hammock, into which he had tossed her without saying a word,
one sets a child on a seesaw. There was a choking heat:
with pleasure she felt herself swinging with the motion of the
vessel, and seemed to begin to fall asleep. My friend,” said she,
half asleep, are you not sleepy? Do you know that it is very
late?
"On a beautiful morning I awoke, astonished to feel no motion
of the vessel. We had fallen in a dead calm, and it was on the
first degree of north latitude and the twenty-seventh of longi-
tude. I poked my nose out: the sea was as smooth as a bowl of
oil. The sails, all spread, fell glued to the masts like empty bal-
loons. I said quickly, “I've got time enough before me yet to
read you,' looking sideways at the letter. I waited till sundown
that night. But it had to come: I opened the clock and quickly
took out the sealed order. Well, my dear sir, I held it there for
a quarter of an hour before I could make up my mind to read it.
as
.
## p. 15350 (#298) ##########################################
15350
ALFRED DE VIGNY
me
At last I said, “This is too much! ) and I broke the three seals
with one thumb-stroke; and the great red seal I ground into dust.
After I had read it I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was mistaken. I
re-read the letter, entirely; I read it over again; I began it again
at the last line, and went up to the first. I did not believe it.
My legs trembled a little under me; I sat down; I felt a twitch-
ing of the skin on my face; I rubbed my cheeks a little with
rum, and I poured some in the hollow of my hands, and I pitied
myself for being such a fool: but it was only an affair of a
moment. I went up into the open air. Laurette was so pretty
that day that I did not want to go near her: she wore a little
white dress quite simple, her arms bare to the shoulder, and her
long hair hanging as she always wore it.
“I made a sign to the young man to come and speak to me
on the quarter-deck behind. She turned. I do not know how I
looked, but — she took him by the arm violently, and said, “Oh!
do not go: he is so pale! '
"He came, though, close to on the quarter-deck; she
looked at us, leaning against the great mast. We walked to and
fro for a long time without speaking. I was smoking a cigar,
which I found bitter, and I spat into the water. He followed
me with his eyes; I took his arm: I was choking; on my word
of honor I was choking.
« Ah, here! ' I said to him, tell me something of your his-
tory, my little friend. What in the devil have you done to those
dogs of lawyers there, setting themselves up like the King's five-
franc pieces? They seem to have a bad grudge against you.
It's funny! '
“He shrugged his shoulders, hanging his head (with such a
sweet air, the poor boy), and said to me:
“O my heavens, captain! no great thing, I assure you:
three couplets of vaudeville on the Directory, that is all. '
“Impossible! ' I said.
«O my God, yes! The couplets were not even very good,
I was arrested the 15th Fructidor, and conducted to La Force;
condemned first to death, then through benevolence to exile. '
« It is curious,' I said. (The Directeurs are very susceptible
comrades; for that letter, you know, gives me the order to shoot
(
you. "
"He did not answer, but smiled, putting a good enough face
on it for a young man of nineteen. He only looked at his wife,
## p. 15351 (#299) ##########################################
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15351
>
C
see me.
and wiped his forehead, from which great drops of sweat fell.
had fully as many on my face, and other drops in my eyes.
“I began again: -
« It seems to me those citizens did not wish to do this busi-
ness on land: they thought that here it would be kept more
quiet. But it is very hard on me, my. child; for though you are
a good child, I cannot but obey. The sentence of death is there
all regular and correct, the order of execution signed with flour-
ish and seal. Nothing has been left out. '
"He bowed to me politely, blushing.
«I ask for nothing, captain,' he said in a voice as sweet as
usual. 'I should be distressed to make you fail in your duty. I
only want to speak a little with Laure, and pray you to protect
her in case she should survive me, which I do not believe she
will. )
« Oh, as for that, it's all right, my boy: if it does not dis-
please you, I shall take her to her family on my return
France, and I shall only leave her when she no longer cares to
But to my mind, you may flatter yourself that she will
never recover from that stroke, poor little woman! '
« (My brave captain, you will suffer more than I in what
remains for you to do, I feel sure; but what can we do? I may
count upon you to keep for her all that belongs to me, to pro-
tect her, to see that she receives what her old mother may leave
her, may I not? - to guarantee her life, her honor? And also
to see that her health is cared for. See, I must tell you further
that she is very delicate,' he added in a lower voice: (her chest
is often affected so that she faints many times a day; she must
always wrap herself well. But you will replace her father, her
mother, and me, as much as possible, will you not? If she could
keep her rings, which her mother gave her, I should be very
glad. But if it is necessary to sell them for her, it must be
done. My poor Laurette! •see how beautiful she is. '
“I pressed his hand as a friend; but he still held mine, and
looked at me in a curious way.
« (Look here: if I have any advice to give you,' I added, it
is not to speak to her about it. We will arrange the thing so
that she shall not know it, or you either, be sure of that: that
concerns me. '
“Ah! that is different,' said he: I did not know. That
would be better indeed. Besides, good-bys, good-bys, they
weaken one. '
## p. 15352 (#300) ##########################################
15352
ALFRED DE VIGNY
(
“Yes, yes,' I said to him, 'do not be a child: it is better so.
Do not embrace her, iny friend; do not embrace her if you can
help it, or you are lost. '
“It seemed to me that he did not keep the secret well; for
they walked arm in arm during a quarter of an hour.
"Night came all of a sudden. It was the moment I had
resolved to take. But that moment has lasted for me up to this
day, and I shall drag it after me all my life, like a ball. ”
oh,
« They
Here the old commandant was forced to stop. I was careful
not to speak, for fear of turning the course of his ideas; he
began again, striking himself on the breast:-
(That moment, I tell you - I cannot yet understand it. I felt
a fury seizing me by the hair; and at the same time I do not
know what made me obey, and pushed me on. I called the offi.
cers, and said to one of them, Come, a skiff overboard, as we are
now executioners! You will put that woman into it, you will take
her farther and farther away until you hear gun-shots! Then
you will return. ' To obey a piece of paper! for after all, that
was what it came to. There must have been something in the
air which pushed me on.
I saw from afar the young man
it was horrible to see — kneel before his Laurette, and kiss her
knees, her feet.
« These small boats hold six men,” he continued.
threw themselves into it, and carried Laure off with them, with-
out her having time to cry, or speak. Oh! there are things for
which no honest man can console himself if he has caused them.
There is no use in saying one forgets such things.
"I was speaking to you still, I think, of the little Laurette!
Poor woman! How stupid some men are in this world! The
officer was fool enough to steer the boat before the brig. After
this, it is right to say we cannot foresee everything. I counted
upon night to hide the business; and •I did not count upon the
light of twelve guns fired all at once. And, ma foi! from the
boat she saw her husband fall into the sea, shot.
“If there is a God up there, he knows how what I am going
to tell you happened; as for me, I do not know, but it was seen
and heard, as I see and hear you. At the moment of the shot
she raised her hand to her head as if a ball had struck her
brow, and sat in the boat without fainting, without crying, with-
out speaking, and returned to the brig when they wanted, and as
they wanted. I went to her, and spoke to her for a long time,
## p. 15353 (#301) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15353
and as well as I could. She seemed to listen to me, and looked
me in the face, rubbing her forehead. She did not understand,
and her brow was red, and her face all pale. She trembled all
over as though afraid of every one. That trembling remains
still with her. She is still the same poor little one: idiot, or
imbecile, or crazy, as you choose. Never has a word been drawn
from her, except when she asks to have taken out what she has
in her head.
“From that moment I became as sad as she; and I felt some-
thing in me that said to me, “Stay by her the rest of your
days, and take care of her. ' I have done it. When I returned to
France, I asked to pass with the same rank into the land troops;
having a hatred to the sea, because I had thrown into it inno-
cent blood. I sought for Laure's family. Her mother was dead.
Her sisters, to whom I took her insane, would have none of her,
and proposed to put her into Charenton. I turned my back on
them, and kept her with me.
“Ah! my God, comrade, if you wish to see her, it rests only
with yourself. "
“Is she in there? ” I asked.
«Certainly, here! Wait! ho! ho! mule. ” And he stopped his
poor mule, which seemed relieved at the command. At the same
time he raised the oilcloth of his little cart, as if to arrange the
straw which almost filled it; and I saw something very painful.
I saw two blue eyes, large beyond measure, admirable in shape,
looking out of a pale emaciated face, inundated with straight
light hair. She looked at us a moment, trembled, smiled faintly
at me. I noticed with astonishment that on her long fingers she
had two diamond rings.
»
## p. 15354 (#302) ##########################################
15354
PASQUALE VILLARI
(1827-)
T has been said that the history of any given nation can be
clearest understood and best written by a member of that
nation, as obviously fitted by temperament to enter into
that sympathy with the past which is the first requisite of the his-
torian. The truth of this is exemplified in the case of Pasquale Vil-
lari, a modern Italian historian, whose noted lives of Savonarola and
of Machiavelli owe their value as much to the author's comprehension
of the Italian temperament as to his thorough and extensive scholar-
ship. The first volume of the Life and Times of Savonarola' was
published in 1859, the second in 1861. In writing this history, Villari
had to deal with one of the most complex periods of Italian develop-
ment, when the Renaissance was approaching its zenith, introducing
into European life the elements out of which the modern world was
to be formed. Like other transitional periods, it was fraught with
much that seems inexplicable and contradictory, even to a far-removed
generation; furthermore, Villari had to treat of a character concern-
ing the estimate of whose place and work in the world a historian
might easily go astray. Savonarola in his perfect simplicity is one of
the most unintelligible figures of history, when regarded, as is usually
the case, as a mediæval friar of a profound and mystic devotional
genius. Villari does not question the genius, but he places Savonarola
where he belongs, in the modern and not in the medieval world.
“It cannot be denied that he had the spirit of an innovator; and indeed,
the main purpose of our work has been to insist on this point. Savonarola
was the first to raise the standard announcing the uprisal of the truly original
thought of the Renaissance at the close of the great epoch of humanistic learn-
ing. He was the first man of the fifteenth century to realize that the human
race was palpitating with the throes of a new life; and his words were loudly
echoed by that portion of the Italian people still left untainted by the prev-
alent corruption. He accordingly merits the title of prophet of the new civil-
ization.
Columbus discovered the paths of the sea, Savonarola those of
the soul;
he endeavored to conciliate reason with faith, religion with
liberty. His work may be ranked with that of the Council of Constance, of
Dante Alighieri, of Arnaldo of Brescia: he aspired to the reform of Christian-
ity and Catholicism that has been the constant ideal of the greatest minds of
Italy. ”
## p. 15355 (#303) ##########################################
PASQUALE VILLARI
15355
Villari thus renders an enormous service to the life and work of
Savonarola.
of nothing else; to-morrow in the field! They strip to their sus-
penders, they even remove their suspenders; they take swords,
cross them, the steel emits sparks. One, two! One, two! . They
thrust, they ward off. The fencer thrusts, the thruster fences.
One, two! Thrusts here, thrusts there, thrusts everywhere! Flic,
flac! More thrusts! What thrusts, what fire in the steel, what
steel in fire, what fire in the hearts! The sweat pours and is not
wiped ! At last one of those cruel swords touches one of those
cruel men; the blood starts. Stop, rash fellows! Honor is sat-
isfied!
The wounded lost a few hairs of his left eyebrow.
## p. 15341 (#289) ##########################################
15341
ALFRED DE VIGNY
(1797-1863)
BY GRACE KING
(
LFRED VICTOR, Comte de Vigny, is represented in the volu-
minous literature of his country in the nineteenth century
by. a mere handful of books: briefly, by two volumes of
poetry, Poésies Antiques et Modernes' and Les Destinées); by a
novel, Cinq Mars'; a comedy, “Quitte pour la Peur' (Let Off with a
Scare); a prose epic, “Stello'; four tales from military life, Military
Servitude and Grandeur'; a play, Chatter-
ton'; and The Journal of a Poet. ' And
in the resounding fame of great contem-
poraries and successors in literature, De
Vigny's name and this handful of books
might, with easy supposition, have been rel-
egated to the position of a dwindling and
expiring reminiscence of the past; the fate
of long catalogues of successful writers and
books of his day. De Vigny's name and
work, however, have gained rather than lost
lustre by the friction of time upon them;
and the eulogy by Théophile Gautier, that
he was “the purest glory of the romantic ALFRED DE VIGNY
school,” is as fresh in its truth to-day, as
when it was penned over a half-century ago. Of all the romanticists,
he remains, to the critical eyes of to-day, as the most genuine, the
most sincere, and the least illogical; in short, as a romanticist by
blood, birth, and traditions, not by school or profession of faith.
He was born at Loches in Touraine, in 1797, the last descendant
of a once wealthy and distinguished family. Through his mother, he
was connected with great admirals and sea captains; through his
father, with courtiers, army officers, and princely seigneurs. Ruined
by the Revolution, his parents removed to Paris; where they con-
secrated their life, and what fortune remained to them, to his edu-
cation. On the knees of his white-haired father, an old courtier of
Louis XV. and a crippled veteran of the Seven Years' War, the child
learned to know Louis XV. , the great Frederick, Voltaire, and the
»
## p. 15342 (#290) ##########################################
15342
ALFRED DE VIGNY
history of the great campaigns of the past century; and was taught
war, he relates, by his father's wounds, by the parchments and
escutcheons of his family, by the portraits in armor of his ancestors,
— the nobility acting the rôle of a great family of hereditary soldiers.
He was barely sixteen when the Restoration opened to him the
predestined career, as he saw it, of the sons of the nobles of France.
He entered the household troops of the King, a company composed
of young men of family, all graded as sous-lieutenants. But France,
as he says, had sheathed her sword «in the scabbard of the Bour-
bons”: with Napoleon the glory of army life had departed; only
the dullness and routine of it remained. To while away the bur-
densome hours of ennui during his garrison life, the young officer
returned to his early and precocious passion for poetry. His haver-
sack library, consisting of the Bible and a few classics, ministered
to him as Muse. In 1822 he published the collection of these first
essays, - 'Poems Ancient and Modern. ' It contained some of his
best pieces: Moses,' (The Deluge,' (The Adulterous Woman. ' The
following year he published his Eloa. ' The historical novel of
Cinq Mars) (1826) was however the maker of De Vigny's reputation
in literature. Based upon a fine episode of the reign of Louis XIII. ,
its dramatic interest, the virile strength of its characters, its brilliant
coloring, and the elevated purity and elegance of its style and lan-
guage, insured it a success that has been prolonged until the book
has become fixed in its reputation as a modern classic.
After fourteen years of pacific and inglorious service, during which
he attained only to the rank of captain, De Vigny resigned from the
army. In Paris he retired into what Sainte-Beuve wittily called his
ivory tower,” a life of seclusion, aristocratic and mediæval in its lofty
isolation. He emerged but once,- in 1842, to take his seat in the
French Academy. He died in 1863, leaving ready for publication a
volume of poems, "Les Destinées,' and a collection of personal notes
and reflections which was published by his literary executor as “The
Journal of a Poet. ' This last volume contains some of the most
exquisite passages of his writings and of his life: the long painful
illness of his mother; his devotion, her death, and his grief; and
afterwards, the long years of devotion to his invalid wife.
Placed chronologically by birth between Victor Hugo and Lamar-
tine, De Vigny's intrinsic value as a poet receives its best illustra-
tion from the juxtaposition. His originality, as Sainte-Beuve says, “is
distinct from both, in its inspiration and filiation: we can connect
Victor Hugo and Lamartine with anterior French poetry, but in it
we vainly seek the parentage of Moses, Eloa, and Dolorida. ”
De Vigny's earliest conception of the fatal and sublime gift of
genius, - condemning man to solitude and sadness, imprisoning him
»
## p. 15343 (#291) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15343
in his own greatness," as it has been expressed, - became his master
idea through life. It appeared first in Moses,' and reappeared in all
his writings, poetry and prose, in different reincarnations;- in the
Maison de Berger,' idyllic, in love; in Stello,' tragic, in the suffer-
ings of the modern poet; the idea reaches its culmination in moral
grandeur in Military Servitude and Grandeur,' where self-abnegation
and virile honor are depicted as the only ransom of greatness, and
the price of the happiness of the common mortal.
Grace Krug
MOSES
.
H*
E SAID unto the Lord:-“Shall I ne'er be done ?
Where wilt thou still that I my footsteps turn ?
Am I to live for aye, great, powerful, and alone ?
Give me, ah, give me leave to sleep the sleep of earth!
What did I to thee to be chosen thine elect?
Let now some other stand 'twixt thee and thine!
Some other curb thy wild steed, Israel!
I gladly make him heir to book and brazen rod.
Why needest thou have dried up all my hopes ?
Why not have left me man in all my ignorance?
Alas! thou madest me wise among the wise:
My finger showed thy wandering race its path,
I called down fire upon the heads of kings,
And future time will kneel before my laws.
I am the Great: my feet tread nations' necks,
My hand holds generations in its will.
Alas, my Lord! I am great - I am alone:
Give me — ah, give me leave to sleep the sleep of earth! )
ELOA
O
N THE snowy mountain crown of the hamlet,
The Spaniard has wounded the Asturian eagle
That threatened his white bounding flock.
With bristling plumes, and raining down blood,
The bird strikes upward to heaven, quick as a flash could descend,
## p. 15344 (#292) ##########################################
15344
ALFRED DE VIGNY
Gazing up at his sun! breathing it in with wide-open beak,
As if once again his life to retake from the empire of flame.
In the golden air he swims with great strokes,
Hovers a moment in rest, 'mid the bright darting rays, –
But the aim of the man was too sure:
The hot ball burns like a coal in his wound;
His wing drops its shafts, his royal mantle its plumes;
Dispossessed of his heights, his weight bears him down,-
He sinks into the snow of the mount, with wild heaving breast;
And the cold of the earth, with its heavy death sleep,
Shuts the eyes that held the respect of the sun.
LAURETTE, OR THE RED SEAL
T"
still sang
He grand route of Artois and Flanders is long and desolate.
It extends in a straight line, without trees, without ditches,
through countries flat and covered with yellow mud at all
times. In the month of March 1815 I passed along this route,
and had a rencontre which I have never since forgotten.
I was alone. My comrades were ahead on the route in the
suite of the King, Louis XVIII. I saw their white capes and
red capes at the very horizon of the north. A lost shoe retarded
my horse. He was young and strong. I urged him on to rejoin
my squadron; he started at a rapid trot. It still rained, and I
But I soon stopped, tired of hearing only my own
self; and then I heard only the rain, and my horses' feet which
plashed the beaten track. On examining intently this yellow
line of the road, I remarked at about a quarter of a mile dis-
tant a small black point which moved. This gave me pleasure:
it was some person. I hurried my steps. At about a hundred
paces I could clearly distinguish a little wagon of white wood,
covered with three circles and black oilcloth; it resembled a lit-
tle cradle placed on two wheels; the wheels sank to their hubs
in the mud. The little mule which dragged it was carefully
led by a man on foot who held the bridle. He was a man of
about fifty years, with white mustache, strong and tall. He had
a hard but good face, such as is frequently seen in the army.
Having seen his white cockade, I contented myself with show-
ing him the sleeve of my red coat, and then he replaced his gun
in the cart. —“Will you have a drop? ” -“Willingly," I replied,
approaching: "I have not drunk in twenty-four hours. ” He had
(C
(
## p. 15345 (#293) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15345
>
(
»
.
at his neck a cocoanut very well carved, made into a flagon, with
a silver mouthpiece, of which he seemed rather proud. He
passed it to me, and I drank a little of the bad white wine with
much pleasure. I returned the cocoanut to him. We went on
for about a quarter of a mile without saying anything. Then
as he stopped to rest his poor little mule, which it pained me
to look at, I stopped too, to empty my boots of the water which
filled them. “Your boots begin to stick to your feet,” said he.
«It is four nights since I took them off,” said I. «Bah! in eight
«
days you will no longer think of them,” he replied in his hoarse
voice. "Do you know what I have in there? ” “No,” said I
to him. - “It is a woman. " — I said, “Ah! ” without too much
surprise, and I began to walk tranquilly on.
He followed me.
« You do not care ? What I said then ought to astonish you. ”
_“I am but little astonished,” I said. — “Oh! but if I should
tell you how I left the sea, we should see. ” — “Well,” replied I,
» «
“why not try? That would warm you up, and would make me
forget that the rain is running down my back and out at my
heels. ”
“You must know first, my boy, that I was born at Brest. I
started by being the child of the troop, earning my half-rations
and my half-stipend from the age of nine; my father being a
soldier in the guards. But as I loved the sea, - on a beautiful
night while I was on leave of absence in Brest, I hid myself in
the hold of a merchant vessel leaving for the Indies: I was only
discovered in mid-ocean, and the captain preferred making me
a cabin-boy to throwing me overboard. When the Revolution
came I had made my way, and had in my turn become captain of
a little merchant vessel, — full of zest, having skimmed the ocean
for fifteen years. As the royal ex-marine- ma foi! the good
old marine - all of a sudden found itself depopulated of officers,
captains were taken from the merchant marine. I had had some
filibustering affairs, of which I may tell you later. They gave
me command of a brig of war named the Marat. The 28th Fruc.
tidor 1797 I received orders to weigh for Cayenne. I was to
convey sixty soldiers; and one exile, who was left over from the
one hundred and ninety-three taken on board by the frigate
La Decade a few days before. I had orders to treat this individ-
ual with consideration; and the first letter of the Directoire con-
tained a second, closed with three red seals, one amongst them of
unusual size. I was forbidden to open this letter before the first
XXVI–960
-
## p. 15346 (#294) ##########################################
15346
ALFRED DE VIGNY
degree of latitude north from the twenty-seventh to the twenty-
eighth of longitude, - that is, near to passing the line. This big
letter had a shape all its own. It was long, and so tightly closed
that I could not read between the angles, nor through the envel-
ope. I am not superstitious, but it made me afraid.
"I was occupied in putting this letter under the glass of the
clock when my exile entered my room; he held by the hand
a beautiful young girl, about seventeen years old. He told me
that he was nineteen; a fine-looking boy, though a little pale,
and too white for a man. His little wife was fresh and gay as
a child. They looked like two turtle-doves. It gave me pleasure
to see them. I said to them, 'Well, my children, you have come
to visit the old captain ? That is very good of you. I am tak-
ing you rather far away, but so much the better: we shall have
time to become acquainted. I am sorry to receive madame with-
out my coat, but I was nailing that great rascally letter 'way up
there. If you would help me a little? That made good little
children of them. The little husband took the hammer, and the
little wife the nails, and they passed them to me as I asked for
them; and she called to me, « To the right! to the left! captain! ”
laughing as she did so, for the pitching made my clock unsteady.
Ah! ' I said, little mischief! I shall make your husband scold
you, see if I do not. ' Then she threw her arms about his neck
and kissed him. They were really very nice. We immediately
became good friends. The trip was beautiful. I always did
have weather made to order. As I had none but black faces on
board, I made the two little lovers come to my table every other
day. It enlivened me. When we had eaten the biscuits and
fish, the little wife and her husband would remain gazing at each
other, as if they had never one another before. Then I
would begin to laugh with all my heart, and make fun of them.
They too would laugh with me. You would have laughed too,
to see us laughing like three imbeciles, not knowing what was
the matter with us.
They slept in a hammock, where
the vessel would roll them over and over like these two pears,
which I have here in my wet handkerchief. They were lively
and contented. I did as you do: I did not question. What need
was there that I should know their name and their affairs ? I
was taking them across the sea, as I would have taken two birds
of Paradise.
I ended after a month by looking on them
as my children. All day long, when I called them, they would
seen
.
## p. 15347 (#295) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15347
am
come and sit by me. The young man wrote at my table, — that
is, on my bed: and when I wished it, he would help me to keep
my course; he soon knew how to do it as well as I, and I was
sometimes forbidden to do it. The young woman would seat
herself on a little barrel, and sew. One day as they were thus
sitting, I said to them :-
« Do you know, little friends, that we make a fine family
picture as we are now? I do not want to question you; but
probably you have not more money than you need, and you are
both prodigiously delicate to spade and hoe, as the exiles do in
Cayenne. It is an ugly country; I tell you the truth: but I, who
an old wolfskin dried in the sun, I could live there like a
lord. If you have, as it seems to me you have (without wishing
to question you), a little friendship for me, I will willingly leave
my old brig, which is only a sabot now, and establish myself with
you, if it would please you. I have no more family than a dog,
and that worries me: you would be a little society for me. I
would help you in many things: I have saved up a nice little
heap, on which we can live, and which I shall leave to you when
I come to turn up my eyes, as we say politely. ' Astonished,
they looked at one another, apparently believing that I had not
spoken the truth; then the little one ran, as she always did,
threw herself on the bosom of the other, and sat on his knee,
all red and weeping. He pressed her close in his arms, and I
saw tears in his eyes too; he stretched out his hand to me and
became paler than usual. She spoke softly to him, and her
long blonde tresses fell on his shoulder; her twist had become
undone, like a cable which unrolls suddenly. That hair — if you
had seen it! it was like gold.
"As they still spoke low, the young man kissing her brow
,
from time to time, and she weeping, I grew impatient. Well,
does that suit you? I said at last. But — but, captain, you
are very good;' said the husband, but - you could not live with
deported convicts he lowered his eyes.
«T,' said I, do not know what you have done to be exiled;
but you shall tell me some day if you choose, or you shall not
if you choose. You do not seem to me to have a very heavy
conscience; I am very sure that I have done much more in my
life than you, poor innocents! For instance, as long as you are
under my guard, I shall not let you go: you need not expect
it; I would sooner cut your throats as I would two pigeons. But
(
## p. 15348 (#296) ##########################################
15348
ALFRED DE VIGNY
(
my child?
>
once my epaulet removed, I know no longer either admiral or any.
thing else.
«What I am thinking is,' he replied, sadly shaking his brown
head, slightly powdered as it was still worn in those days, that
it would be dangerous for you, captain, to seem to know us.
We
laugh because we
are so young; we seem to be happy because
we love each other: but I have some ugly moments when I
think of the future, and I do not know what will become of
my poor Laure. ' He again pressed the young wife's head to his
breast. (That was what I should say to the captain, was it not,
Would you not have said the same thing ? ?
"I took my pipe and got up; for I began to feel my eyes
growing moist, and that was not becoming to me.
«Come, come! ' I said: that will all be cleared up after a
while. If the tobacco is unpleasant to madame, her absence will
be necessary. She arose, her face all on fire and wet with tears,
like a child that has been scolded.
« And yet,' she said, looking at my clock, you two do not
think about it that letter! ?
"I felt as if something had struck me. I had a kind of pain
up
under
my
hair when she said that to me.
(Pardieu! I did not think of it,' I said. Ah, here indeed
is a pretty affair! If we have passed the first degree north, all
I can do is to throw myself overboard! ' I must be lucky: that
child reminded me of that devilish letter!
"I looked quickly at my marine map; and when I saw that
there was still a week ahead of us, my head felt easier, but not
my heart, - I could not tell why.
«It is because the Directory does not joke about the article
obedience! ' I said. "Good!
once more afloat this time.
Time few so quickly that I had entirely forgotten it. '
“Well, sir, we remained all three with our noses in the air,
looking at that letter as if it were going to speak to us. What
struck me very much was that the sun, which slipped in through
the skylight, lit up the glass of the clock, and made the big red
seal and the other little ones seem like features of a face in
the midst of fire.
« Would not one say that the eyes were starting from his
head? ) I said to amuse them.
««Oh! my friend,' said the young woman, “it looks like blood
stains. '
-
I am
(
## p. 15349 (#297) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15349
(c
« « Bah! bah! ' said her husband, laying her arm in his, you
are mistaken, Laure: it looks like a card of announcement of
a marriage. Come and rest yourself, come: why let that letter
bother you ? '
“They went off. I remained alone with that big letter; and
I remember that while smoking my pipe, I continued to look at
it, as if those red eyes had attached mine to them by drawing
them ever as do the eyes of a serpent.
« The night was more beautiful than any I had ever seen in
my life so near the tropics The moon rose on the horizon as
large as a sun; the sea cut it in half, and became all white, like
a cloth of snow covered with little diamonds. I was glad to hear
nothing. I love silence and order. I had forbidden all noises
and all fires. Nevertheless I perceived a small red line almost
under my feet. I should have got into a temper instantly; but as
it was in the cabin of my little convicts, I wished to be sure of
what they were doing before I grew angry. I had only to bend
down: I could see through the big hatchway into the little room,
and I looked. The young wife was on her knees praying. A
small lamp threw its light on her. I thought I would slip away,
but I said, 'Bah! an old soldier, what does it matter? ' And
I remained to see. While she prayed, her husband took the
ends of her long hair and kissed them noiselessly. When she had
.
finished she made the sign of the cross, with the air of going to
paradise. She got up, kissed him, and stretched herself in the
hammock, into which he had tossed her without saying a word,
one sets a child on a seesaw. There was a choking heat:
with pleasure she felt herself swinging with the motion of the
vessel, and seemed to begin to fall asleep. My friend,” said she,
half asleep, are you not sleepy? Do you know that it is very
late?
"On a beautiful morning I awoke, astonished to feel no motion
of the vessel. We had fallen in a dead calm, and it was on the
first degree of north latitude and the twenty-seventh of longi-
tude. I poked my nose out: the sea was as smooth as a bowl of
oil. The sails, all spread, fell glued to the masts like empty bal-
loons. I said quickly, “I've got time enough before me yet to
read you,' looking sideways at the letter. I waited till sundown
that night. But it had to come: I opened the clock and quickly
took out the sealed order. Well, my dear sir, I held it there for
a quarter of an hour before I could make up my mind to read it.
as
.
## p. 15350 (#298) ##########################################
15350
ALFRED DE VIGNY
me
At last I said, “This is too much! ) and I broke the three seals
with one thumb-stroke; and the great red seal I ground into dust.
After I had read it I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was mistaken. I
re-read the letter, entirely; I read it over again; I began it again
at the last line, and went up to the first. I did not believe it.
My legs trembled a little under me; I sat down; I felt a twitch-
ing of the skin on my face; I rubbed my cheeks a little with
rum, and I poured some in the hollow of my hands, and I pitied
myself for being such a fool: but it was only an affair of a
moment. I went up into the open air. Laurette was so pretty
that day that I did not want to go near her: she wore a little
white dress quite simple, her arms bare to the shoulder, and her
long hair hanging as she always wore it.
“I made a sign to the young man to come and speak to me
on the quarter-deck behind. She turned. I do not know how I
looked, but — she took him by the arm violently, and said, “Oh!
do not go: he is so pale! '
"He came, though, close to on the quarter-deck; she
looked at us, leaning against the great mast. We walked to and
fro for a long time without speaking. I was smoking a cigar,
which I found bitter, and I spat into the water. He followed
me with his eyes; I took his arm: I was choking; on my word
of honor I was choking.
« Ah, here! ' I said to him, tell me something of your his-
tory, my little friend. What in the devil have you done to those
dogs of lawyers there, setting themselves up like the King's five-
franc pieces? They seem to have a bad grudge against you.
It's funny! '
“He shrugged his shoulders, hanging his head (with such a
sweet air, the poor boy), and said to me:
“O my heavens, captain! no great thing, I assure you:
three couplets of vaudeville on the Directory, that is all. '
“Impossible! ' I said.
«O my God, yes! The couplets were not even very good,
I was arrested the 15th Fructidor, and conducted to La Force;
condemned first to death, then through benevolence to exile. '
« It is curious,' I said. (The Directeurs are very susceptible
comrades; for that letter, you know, gives me the order to shoot
(
you. "
"He did not answer, but smiled, putting a good enough face
on it for a young man of nineteen. He only looked at his wife,
## p. 15351 (#299) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15351
>
C
see me.
and wiped his forehead, from which great drops of sweat fell.
had fully as many on my face, and other drops in my eyes.
“I began again: -
« It seems to me those citizens did not wish to do this busi-
ness on land: they thought that here it would be kept more
quiet. But it is very hard on me, my. child; for though you are
a good child, I cannot but obey. The sentence of death is there
all regular and correct, the order of execution signed with flour-
ish and seal. Nothing has been left out. '
"He bowed to me politely, blushing.
«I ask for nothing, captain,' he said in a voice as sweet as
usual. 'I should be distressed to make you fail in your duty. I
only want to speak a little with Laure, and pray you to protect
her in case she should survive me, which I do not believe she
will. )
« Oh, as for that, it's all right, my boy: if it does not dis-
please you, I shall take her to her family on my return
France, and I shall only leave her when she no longer cares to
But to my mind, you may flatter yourself that she will
never recover from that stroke, poor little woman! '
« (My brave captain, you will suffer more than I in what
remains for you to do, I feel sure; but what can we do? I may
count upon you to keep for her all that belongs to me, to pro-
tect her, to see that she receives what her old mother may leave
her, may I not? - to guarantee her life, her honor? And also
to see that her health is cared for. See, I must tell you further
that she is very delicate,' he added in a lower voice: (her chest
is often affected so that she faints many times a day; she must
always wrap herself well. But you will replace her father, her
mother, and me, as much as possible, will you not? If she could
keep her rings, which her mother gave her, I should be very
glad. But if it is necessary to sell them for her, it must be
done. My poor Laurette! •see how beautiful she is. '
“I pressed his hand as a friend; but he still held mine, and
looked at me in a curious way.
« (Look here: if I have any advice to give you,' I added, it
is not to speak to her about it. We will arrange the thing so
that she shall not know it, or you either, be sure of that: that
concerns me. '
“Ah! that is different,' said he: I did not know. That
would be better indeed. Besides, good-bys, good-bys, they
weaken one. '
## p. 15352 (#300) ##########################################
15352
ALFRED DE VIGNY
(
“Yes, yes,' I said to him, 'do not be a child: it is better so.
Do not embrace her, iny friend; do not embrace her if you can
help it, or you are lost. '
“It seemed to me that he did not keep the secret well; for
they walked arm in arm during a quarter of an hour.
"Night came all of a sudden. It was the moment I had
resolved to take. But that moment has lasted for me up to this
day, and I shall drag it after me all my life, like a ball. ”
oh,
« They
Here the old commandant was forced to stop. I was careful
not to speak, for fear of turning the course of his ideas; he
began again, striking himself on the breast:-
(That moment, I tell you - I cannot yet understand it. I felt
a fury seizing me by the hair; and at the same time I do not
know what made me obey, and pushed me on. I called the offi.
cers, and said to one of them, Come, a skiff overboard, as we are
now executioners! You will put that woman into it, you will take
her farther and farther away until you hear gun-shots! Then
you will return. ' To obey a piece of paper! for after all, that
was what it came to. There must have been something in the
air which pushed me on.
I saw from afar the young man
it was horrible to see — kneel before his Laurette, and kiss her
knees, her feet.
« These small boats hold six men,” he continued.
threw themselves into it, and carried Laure off with them, with-
out her having time to cry, or speak. Oh! there are things for
which no honest man can console himself if he has caused them.
There is no use in saying one forgets such things.
"I was speaking to you still, I think, of the little Laurette!
Poor woman! How stupid some men are in this world! The
officer was fool enough to steer the boat before the brig. After
this, it is right to say we cannot foresee everything. I counted
upon night to hide the business; and •I did not count upon the
light of twelve guns fired all at once. And, ma foi! from the
boat she saw her husband fall into the sea, shot.
“If there is a God up there, he knows how what I am going
to tell you happened; as for me, I do not know, but it was seen
and heard, as I see and hear you. At the moment of the shot
she raised her hand to her head as if a ball had struck her
brow, and sat in the boat without fainting, without crying, with-
out speaking, and returned to the brig when they wanted, and as
they wanted. I went to her, and spoke to her for a long time,
## p. 15353 (#301) ##########################################
ALFRED DE VIGNY
15353
and as well as I could. She seemed to listen to me, and looked
me in the face, rubbing her forehead. She did not understand,
and her brow was red, and her face all pale. She trembled all
over as though afraid of every one. That trembling remains
still with her. She is still the same poor little one: idiot, or
imbecile, or crazy, as you choose. Never has a word been drawn
from her, except when she asks to have taken out what she has
in her head.
“From that moment I became as sad as she; and I felt some-
thing in me that said to me, “Stay by her the rest of your
days, and take care of her. ' I have done it. When I returned to
France, I asked to pass with the same rank into the land troops;
having a hatred to the sea, because I had thrown into it inno-
cent blood. I sought for Laure's family. Her mother was dead.
Her sisters, to whom I took her insane, would have none of her,
and proposed to put her into Charenton. I turned my back on
them, and kept her with me.
“Ah! my God, comrade, if you wish to see her, it rests only
with yourself. "
“Is she in there? ” I asked.
«Certainly, here! Wait! ho! ho! mule. ” And he stopped his
poor mule, which seemed relieved at the command. At the same
time he raised the oilcloth of his little cart, as if to arrange the
straw which almost filled it; and I saw something very painful.
I saw two blue eyes, large beyond measure, admirable in shape,
looking out of a pale emaciated face, inundated with straight
light hair. She looked at us a moment, trembled, smiled faintly
at me. I noticed with astonishment that on her long fingers she
had two diamond rings.
»
## p. 15354 (#302) ##########################################
15354
PASQUALE VILLARI
(1827-)
T has been said that the history of any given nation can be
clearest understood and best written by a member of that
nation, as obviously fitted by temperament to enter into
that sympathy with the past which is the first requisite of the his-
torian. The truth of this is exemplified in the case of Pasquale Vil-
lari, a modern Italian historian, whose noted lives of Savonarola and
of Machiavelli owe their value as much to the author's comprehension
of the Italian temperament as to his thorough and extensive scholar-
ship. The first volume of the Life and Times of Savonarola' was
published in 1859, the second in 1861. In writing this history, Villari
had to deal with one of the most complex periods of Italian develop-
ment, when the Renaissance was approaching its zenith, introducing
into European life the elements out of which the modern world was
to be formed. Like other transitional periods, it was fraught with
much that seems inexplicable and contradictory, even to a far-removed
generation; furthermore, Villari had to treat of a character concern-
ing the estimate of whose place and work in the world a historian
might easily go astray. Savonarola in his perfect simplicity is one of
the most unintelligible figures of history, when regarded, as is usually
the case, as a mediæval friar of a profound and mystic devotional
genius. Villari does not question the genius, but he places Savonarola
where he belongs, in the modern and not in the medieval world.
“It cannot be denied that he had the spirit of an innovator; and indeed,
the main purpose of our work has been to insist on this point. Savonarola
was the first to raise the standard announcing the uprisal of the truly original
thought of the Renaissance at the close of the great epoch of humanistic learn-
ing. He was the first man of the fifteenth century to realize that the human
race was palpitating with the throes of a new life; and his words were loudly
echoed by that portion of the Italian people still left untainted by the prev-
alent corruption. He accordingly merits the title of prophet of the new civil-
ization.
Columbus discovered the paths of the sea, Savonarola those of
the soul;
he endeavored to conciliate reason with faith, religion with
liberty. His work may be ranked with that of the Council of Constance, of
Dante Alighieri, of Arnaldo of Brescia: he aspired to the reform of Christian-
ity and Catholicism that has been the constant ideal of the greatest minds of
Italy. ”
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Villari thus renders an enormous service to the life and work of
Savonarola.
