Les misérables, Cosette and Marius

Front matter

MIOSETTE ± MARIOS.

LOG

MELLIN'S

BOOK SIXTH. %t9 J«i9fra6Us C O S ET T E

COSETTE

THE SHIP ORION.

I,

JEAN VALJEAN had been retaken.

We shall be pardoned for passing rapidly over the. painful details. We shall merely reproduce a couple of items published in the newspapers of that day, some few

months after the remarkable events that occurred at M

sur M .

The articles referred to are somewhat laconic. It will be remembered that the Gazette des Tribunaux had not yet been established.

We copy the first from the Drapeau Blanc. It is dated the 25th of July, 1823 : —

Les Misfrables — Cosette.

" A district of the Pas-de-Calais has just been the scene of an extraordinary occurrence. A stranger in that department, known as Monsieur Madeleine, had, within a few years past, restored, by means of certain new processes, the manufacture of jet and black glass ware — a former local branch of industry. He had made his own fortune by it, and, in fact, that of the entire district. In acknowledgment of his services he had been appointed Mayor. The police has discovered that Monsieur Madeleine was none other than an escaped convict, condemned in 1796 for robbery, and named Jean Valjean. This Jean Valjean has been sent back to the galleys. It appears that previous to his arrest, he succeeded in withdrawing from Laffitte's a sum amounting to more than half a million which he had deposited there, and which it is said, by the way, he had very legitimately realized in his business. Since his return to the galleys at Toulon, it has been impossible to discover where Jean Valjean concealed this money."

The second article, which enters a little more into detail, is taken from the yaurnal de Paris of the same date : —

"An old convict, named Jean Valjean, has recently been brought bef )re Var Assizes, under circumstances calculated to attract attention. This villain had succeeded in eluding the vigilance of the police ; he had changed his name, and had even been adroit enough to procure the appointment of Mayor in one of our small towns in the North. He had established in this town a very considerable business, but was, at length, umnasked and arrested, thanks to the indefatigable zeal of the public authorities. He kept, as his mistress, a prostitute, who died of the shock at the moment of his arrest. This wretch, who is endowed with herculean strength, managed to escape, but, three or four days afterwards, the police retook him, in Paris, just as he was getting into one of the small vehicles that ply between the capita) and the village of Montfermeil (Seine-et-Oise). It is said

The Ship Orion.

that he had availed himself of the interval of these three or four days of freedom, to withdraw a considerable sum deposited by him with one of our principal bankers. The amount is estimated at six or seven hundred thousand francs. According to the minutes of the case, he has concealed it in some place known to himself alone, and it has been impossible to seize it ; however that may be, the said Jean Valjean has been brought before the assizes of the Department of the Var under indictment for an assault and robbery on the high road. This robber attempted no defence. It was proven by the able and eloquent representative of the crown that the robbery was shared in by others, and that Jean Valjean formed one of a band of robbers in the South. Consequently, Jean Valjean, being found guilty, was condemned to death. The criminal refused to appeal to the higher courts, and the king, in his inexhaustible clemency, deigned to commute his sentence to that of hard labour in prison for life. Jean Valjean was immediately forwarded to the galleys at Toulon."

It will not be forgotten that Jean Valjean had at M

sur M certain religious habits. Some of the newspapers and, among them, the Constitutionnel, held up this commutation as a triumph of the clerical party.

Jean Valjean changed his number at the galleys. He became 9430.

While we are about it, let us remark, in dismissing the

subject, that with M. Madeleine, the prosperity of M

sur M disappeared ; all that he had foreseen, in that

night of fever and irresolution, was realized ; he gone, the

soul was gone. After his downfall, there was at M sur

M that egotistic distribution of what is left when great

men have fallen — that fatal carving up of prosperous enterprises which is daily going on, out of sight, in human society. Jealous rivalries arose. The spacious workshops of M. Madeleine were closed ; the buildings fell into ruin,

Les Miserahles — Cosette.

the workmen dispersed. Some left the country, others abandoned the business. From that time forth, everjrthing was done on a small, instead of on the large scale, and for gain rather than for good. No longer any centre ; competition on all sides, and on all sides venom. M. Madeleine had ruled and directed everything. He fallen, every man strove for himself; the spirit of strife succeeded to the spirit of organization, bitterness to cordiality, hatred of each against each instead of the good will of the founder towards all ; the threads knitted by M. Madeleine became entangled and were broken ; the workmanship was debased, the manufacturers were degraded, confidence was killed ; customers diminished, there were fewer orders, wages decreased, the shops became idle, bankruptcy followed. And, then there was nothing left for the poor. All that was there disappeared.

Even the State noticed that some one had been crushed, in some direction. Less than four years after the decree of the court of assizes establishing the identity of M. Madeleine and Jean Valjean, for the benefit of the galleys, the expense of collecting the taxes was doubled in the

district of M sur M ; and M. de Villele remarked

the fact, on the floor of the Assembly, in the month of February, 1827,

II

Before proceeding further, it will not be amiss to relate, in some detail, a singular incident which took place, about the same time, at Montfermeil, and which, perhaps, does not fall in badly with certain conjectures of the public authorities.

There exists, in the neighbourhood of Montfermeil, a

The Ship Orion.

very ancient superstition, all the more rare and precious from the fact that a popular superstition in the vicinity of Paris is like an aloe tree in Siberia. Now, we are of those who respect anything in the way of a rarity. Here, then, is the superstition of Montfermeil : they believe, there, that the Evil One has, from time immemorial, chosen the forest as the hiding-place for his treasure. The good wives of the vicinity affirm that it is no unusual thing to meet, at sundown, in the secluded portions of the woods, a blade looking man, resembling a waggoner or woodcutter, shod in wooden shoes, clad in breeches and sack of coarse linen, and recognizable from the circumstance that, instead of a cap or hat, he has two immense horns upon his head. That certainly ought to render him recognizable. This man is constantly occupied in digging holes. There are three ways of dealing when you meet him.

The first mode is to approach the man and speak to him. Then you perceive the man is nothing but a peasant, that he looks black because it is twilight, that he is digging no hole whatever, but is merely cutting grass for his cows ; and that what had been taken for horns are nothing but his pitchfork which he carries on his back, and the prongs of which, thanks to the night perspective, seemed to rise from his head. You go home and die within the week. The second method is to watch him, to wait until he has dug the hole, closed it up, and gone away; then, to run quickly to the spot, to open it and get the " treasure " which the black-looking man has, of course, buried there. In this case, you die within the month. The third manner is not to speak to the dark man nor even to look at him, and to run away as fast as you can. You die within the year.

As all three of these methods have their drawbacks, the second, which, at least, offers some advantages, among others that of possessing a treasure, though it be

14 Les Mishahles — Cosette.

but for a month, is the one generally adopted. Daring fellows, who never neglect a good chance, have, therefore, many times, it is asseverated, reopened the holes thus dug by the black-looking man, and tried to rob the Devil. It would appear, however, that it is not a very good busi ness — at least, if we are to believe tradition, and, more especially, two enigmatic lines in barbarous Latin left us, on this subject, by a roguish Norman monk, named Tryphon, who dabbled in the black art. This Tryphon was buried in the abbey of St. Georges de Bocherville, near Rouen, and toads are produced from his grave.

Well then, the treasure-seeker makes tremendous efforts, for the holes referred to are dug, generally, very deep ; he sweats, he digs, he works away all night, for this is done in the night-time ; he gets his clothes wet, he consumes his candle, he hacks and breaks his pickaxe, and when, at length, he has reached the bottom of the hole, when he has put his hand upon the " treasure," what does he find ? What is this treasure of the Evil One ? A penny — sometimes a crown ; a stone, a skeleton, a bleeding corpse, sometimes a spectre twice folded like a sheet of paper in a portfolio, sometimes nothing.

Now, very shortly after the time when the authorities took it into their heads that the liberated convict Jean Valjean had, during his escape of a few days' duration, been prowling about Montfermeil, it was remarked, in that village, that a certain old road-labourer named Boulatruelle had " a fancy " for the woods. People in the neighbourhood claimed to know that Boulatruelle had been in the galleys ; he was under police surveillance, and, as he could find no work anywhere, the Government employed him at half wages as a mender on the cross-road from Gagny to lagny.

This Boulatruelle was a man in bad odour with the people of the neighbourhood ; he was too respectful, too

The Ship Orion.

Jumble, prompt to doff his cap to everybody ; he always trembled and smiled in the presence of the gendarmes, f/as probably in secret connection with robber-bands, said me gossips, and suspected of Ijang in wait in the hedge comers, at nightfall. He had nothing in his favour except that he was a drunkard.

What had been observed was this : —

For some time past, Boulatruelle had left off his work at stone-breaking and keeping the road in order, very early, and had gone into the woods with his pick. He would be met towards evening in the remotest glades and the wildest thickets, having the appearance of a person looking for something and, sometimes, digging holes. The good wives who passed that way took him at first for Beelzebub, then they recognized Boulatruelle, and were by no means reassured. These chance meetings seemed greatly to disconcert Boulatruelle. It was clear that he was trying to conceal himself, and that there was something mysterious in his operations.

The village gossips said If s plain that the Devil has been about, Boulatruelle has seen him and is looking for his treasure. The truth is, he is just the fellow to rob the Evil One." The Voltairians added: "Will Boulatruelle catch the Devil or the Devil catch Boulatruelle?" The old women crossed themselves very often.

However, the visits of Boulatruelle to the woods ceased and he recommenced his regular labour on the road. People began to talk about something else.

A few, however, retained their curiosity, thinking that there might be involved in the affair, not the fabulous treasures of the legend, but some goodly matter more substantial than the Devil's bank-bills, and that Boulatruelle had half spied out the secret. The worst puzzled of all were the schoolmaster and the tavern-keeper, Th'ir)ardier, who was everybody's friend, and who had l6

Les Mishables — Cosette.

not disdained to strike up an intimacy with even Boulatruelle.

" He has been m the galleys," said The'nardier. " Good Lord ! nobody knows who is there or who may be there !"

One evening, the schoolmaster remarked that, in old times, the authorities would have inquired into what Boulatruelle was about in the wood, and that he would have been compelled to soeak — even put to torture, if needs were — and that Boulatruelle would not have Keld out, had he been put to the question by water, for example.

" Let us put him to the wine question," said The'nardier.

So they made up a party and plied the old roadsman with drink. Boulatruelle drank enormously, but said little. He combined with admirable art and in masterly proportions the thirst of a guzzler with the discretion of A. judge. However, by dint of returning to the charge, and by putting together and twisting the obscure expressions that he did let fall, Thenardier and the schoolmaster made out, as they thought, the following : —

One morning about daybreak as he was going to his work, Boulatruelle had been surprised at seeing under a bush in a corner of the wood, a pickaxe and spade, as one would say, hidden there. However, he supposed that they were the pick and spade of old Six-Fours, the water-carrier, and thought no more about it. But, on the evening of the same day, he had seen, witliout being seen himself, for he was hidden behind a large tree, " a person who did not belong at all to that region, and whom he, Boulatruelle, knew very well " — or, as Thdnardier translated it, " an old comrade at the galleys " — turn off from the high road towards the thickest part of the wood. Boulatruelle obstinately refused to tell the stranger's name.

The Ship Orion.

1 nis person carried a package, something square, like a liifge box or a small trunk. Boulatruelle was surprised. Seven or eight minutes, however, elapsed before it occurred to him to follow the " person." But he was too late. The person was already in the thick woods, ni^ht had come on, and Boulatruelle did not succeed in overtal<ing him. Thereupon he made up his mind to watch the outskirts of the wood. " Tliere was a moon." Two or three hours later Boulatruelle saw this person come forth again from the wood, this time carrying now not the little trunk but a pick and a spade. Boulatruelle let the person pass unmolested, because, as he thought to himself, the other was three times as strong as he, was armed with a pickaxe, and would probably murder him on recognizing his countenance and seeing that he, in turn, was recognized. Touching display of feeling in tv/o old companions unexpectedly meeting ! But the pick and the spade were a ray of light to Boulatruelle ; he hastened to the bushes, in the morning, and found neither one nor the other. He thence concluded that this person, on entering the wood, had dug a hole with his pick, had buried the chest, and had, then, filled up the hole with his spade. Now, as the chest was too small to contain a corpse, it must contain money ; hence his continued searches. Boulatruelle had explored, and soundeo, and ransacked the whole forest, had rummaged every spot where the earth seemed to have been freshly disturbed. But all in vain.

He had turned up nothing. Nobody thought any more about it at Montfermeil, excepting a few good gossips, who said : "Be sure the road-labourer of Gagny didn't

lake all that fuss for nothing •• the Devil wa» certainly

lexe."

Les Miserables — Cosette.

III. Towards the end of October, in that same year, 1823, the

inhabitants of Toulon saw coming back into their port, in consequence of heavy weather, and in order to repair some damages, the ship Orion, \\ hich was at a later period employed at Brest as a vessel of instruction, and whicli then formed a part of the Mediterranean squadron. This ship, crippled as she was, for the sea had used her roughly, produced some sensation on entering the roadstead. She flew I forget what pennant, but it entitled her to a regular salute of eleven guns, which she returned shot for shot : in all twenty-two.

Every day, from morning till night, the quays, the wharves, and the piers of the port of Toulon were covered with a throng of saunterers and idlers, whose occupation consisted in gazing at the Orion.

The Orion was a ship that had long been in bad condition. During her previous voyages, thick layers of shellfish had gathered on her bottom to such an extent as to seriously impede her progress; she had been put on the dry-dock the year before, to be scraped, and then she had gone to sea again. But this scraping had injured her fastening.

In the latitude of the Balearic Isles, her planking had loosened and opened, and as there was in those days no copper sheathing, the ship had leaked. A fierce equinoctial came on, which had stove in the larboard bows and a porthole, and damaged the fore-chain-wales. In consequence of these injuries, the Orion had put back to Toulon.

She was moored near the Arsenal. She was in commission, and tliey were repairing her. The hull had not

71^1? Ship Orion.

been injured on the starboard side, but a few planks had been taken off here and there, according to custom, to admit the air to the framework.

One morning the throng which was gazing at her witnessed an accident.

The crew were engaged in furiing sail. The topman, whose duty it was to take in the starboard upper corner of the main top-sail, lost his balance. He was seen tottering; the dense throng assembled on the wharf of the Arsenal uttered a cry, the man's head overbalanced his body, and he whirled over the yard, his arms outstretched towards the deep; as he went over he grasped the man-ropes, first with one hand and then with the other, and hung suspended in that manner. The sea lay far below him at a giddy depth. The shock of his fall had given to the man-ropes a violent swinging motion, and the poor fellow hung dangling to and fro at the end of this line, like a stone in a sling.

To go to his aid was to run a frightful risk. None of the crew, who were all fishermen of the coast, recently taken into service, dared attempt it. In the meantime, the poor topman was becoming exhausted; his agony could not be seen in his countenance, but his increasing weakness could be detected in the movements of all his limbs. His arms twisted about in horrible contortions. Every attempt he made to reascend only increased the oscillations of the man-ropes. He did not cry out, for fear of losing his strength. All were now looking forward to the moment when he should let go of the rope, and, at instants, all turned their heads away that they might not see him fall. There are moments when a rope's end, a pole, the branch of a tree, is life itself, and it is a frightful thing to see a living being lose his hold upon it, and fall like a ripe fruit.

Suddenly a man was discovered clambering up the

Les Mis/rabies — Cosette.

rigging with the agility of a wild-cat. This man was clad in red — it was a convict; he wore a green cap — it was a convict for life. As he reached the round-top, a gust of wind blew off his cap, and revealed a head entirely white — it was not a young man.

In fact, one of the convicts employed on board in some prison task, had, at the first alarm, run to the officer of the watch, and, amid the confusion and hesitation of the crew, while all the sailors trembled and shrank back, had asked permission to save the topman's life at the risk of his own. A sign of assent being given, with one blow of a hammer he broke the chain rivetted to the iron ring at his ankle, then took a rope in his hand, and flung himself into the shrouds. Nobody at the moment noticed with what ease the chain was broken. It was only some time afterwards that anybody remembered it.

In a twinkling he v.vs upon the yard. He paused a few seconds, and seemed to measure it with his glance. Those .'"econds during which the wind swayed the sailor to and fro at the end of the rope seemed ages to the lookers-on. At length the convict raised his eyes to heaven, and took a step forward. The crowd drew a long breath. He was seen to run along the yard. On reaching its extreme tip, he faste«ied one end of the rope he had with him, and let the other hang at full length. Thereupon, he began to let himself" <\o\\'r\ by his hands along this rope, and then there was an inexpressible sensation of terror; instead of one man, two were seen dangling at that giddy height.

You would have said it was a spider seizing a fly ; only in this case the spider was bringing life, and not death. Ten thousand eyes were fixed upon the group. Not a cry ; not a word was uttered ; the same emotion contracted every brow. Every man held his breath, as if afraid to add the least whisper to the wind which was swaying the two unfortunate men.

The Ship Orion.

However, the convict had at length managed to make his way down to the seaman. It was time ; one minute more, and the man, exhausted and despairing, would have fallen into the deep. The convict firmly secured him to the rope, to which he clung with one hand while he worked with the other. Finally, he was seen reascending to the yard and hauling the sailor after him ; he supported him there for an instant to let him recover his strength, and then, lifting him in his arms, carried him, as he walked along the yard, to the crosstrees, and from there to the round-top, where he left him in the hands of his messmates.

Then the throng applauded ; old galley sergeants wept, women hugged each other on the wharves, and, on all sides, voices were heard exclaiming, with a sort of tenderly subdued enthusiasm, " This man must be pardoned !"

He, however, had made it a point of duty to descend again immediately, and go back to his work. In order to arrive more quickly, he slid down the rigging, and started to run along a lower yard. All eyes were follo\\ing him. There was a certain moment when every one felt alarmed ; whether it was that he felt fatigued, or because his head swam, people thought they saw him hesitate and stagger. Suddenly the throng uttered a thrilling outcry : the convict had fallen into the sea.

The fall was perilous. The frigate Algesiras was moored close to the Orion, and the poor convict had plunged between the two ships. It was feared that he would be drawn under one or the other. Four men sprang at once into a boat. The people cheered them on, and anxiety again took possession of all minds. The man had not again risen to the surface. He had disappeared in the sea without making even a ripple, as though he had fallen into a cask of oil. Tlaey sounded and dragged the place. It was in vain. The search was continued imtil night, but not even the body was found.

Les Mis&abUs — Cosette.

The next morning, the Toulon J^ournal published the following lines: — "November 17, 1823. Yesterday, a convict at work on board of the Orion, on his return from rescuing a sailor, fell into the sea, and was drowned. His body was not recovered. It is piesuraed that it has been caught under the piles at the pier-head of the Arsenal. This man was registered by the number 9430, and his name was Jean Valjean."

IV

While Napoleon was dying at Longwood, the sixty thousand men fallen on the field of Waterloo tranquilly mouldered away, and something of their peace spread over the world. The congress of Vienna made from it the treaties of 181 5, and Europe called that the Restoration.

Such is \\'aterloo.

We return, for it is a requirement of this book, to that fatal field of battle.

On the 1 8th of June, 1815, the moon was full. Its light favoured the ferocious pursuit of Blucher, disclosed the traces of the fugitives, delivered this helpless mass to the bloodthirsty Prussian cavalry, and aided in the massacre. Night sometimes lends such tragic assistance to catastrophe.

When the last gun had been fired, the plain of Mont Saint Jean remained deserted.

The English occupied the camp of the French ; it is the usual verification of victory to sleep in the bed of the vanquished. They established their bivouac around Rossomme. The Prussians, let loose upon the fugitives, pushed forward. Wellington went to the village of Waterloo to make up his report to Lord Bathurst.

If ever the sic vos non vobis were applicable, it is surely to this village of Waterloo. Waterloo did nothing, and was two miles distant from the action. Mont Saint Jean was cannonaded, Hougomont was burned, Papelotte was burned, Planchenoit was burned, La Haie Sainte was taken by assault. La Belle-Alliance witnessed the meeting of the two conquerors ; these names are scarcely known, and Waterloo, which had nothing to do with the battle, has all the honour of it.

We are not of those who glorify war ; when the opportunity presents itself we describe its realities. War has frightful beauties which we have not concealed ; it has also, we must admit, some deformities. One of the most surprising is the eager spoliation of the dead after a victory. The day after a battle always dawns upon naked corpses.

Who does this ? Who thus sullies the triumph ? Whose is this hideous furtive hand which glides into the pocket of victory ? Who are these pickpockets following their trade in the wake of glory ? Some philosophers, Voltaire among others, affirm that they are precisely those who have achieved the glory. They are the same, say they, there is no exchange ; those who survive pillage those who succumb. The hero of the day is the vampire cf the night. A man has a right, after all, to despoil in part a corpse which he has made.

For our part, we do not believe this. To gather laurels, and to steal the shoes from a dead man, seems to us impossible to the same hand.

One thing is certain, that after vhe conquerors come the robbers. But let us place the soldier, especially the soldier of to-day, beyond this charge.

Every army has a train, and there the accusation should lie. Bats, half brigand and half valet, all species of nightbird engendered by this twilight which is called war.

Les Mis^rables — Cosette.

bearers of uniforms who never fight, sham mvalids formidable cripples, interloping sutlers, travelling, sometimes with their wives, on little carts, and stealing what they sell, beggars offering themselves as guides to officers, army-servants, marauders ; armies on the march formerly — we do not speak c' the present time — were followed by all these, to such an extent that, in technical language, they are called " camp-followers." No army and no nation was responsible for these beings ; they spoke Italian and followed the Germans ; they spoke French and followed the English. It was by one of these wretches, a Spanish camp-follower who spoke French, that the Marquis of Fervacques, deceived by his Picardy gibberish, and taking him for one of us, was treacherously killed and robbed on the very battle-field during the night which followed the victory of Cerisoles. From marauding came the marauder. The detestable maxim, Live on youf memy, produced this leper, which rigid discipline alone can cure. There are reputations which are illusory ; it is not always known why certain generals, though they have been great, have been so popular. Turenne was adored by his soldiers because he tolerated pillage ; the permission to do wrong forms part of kindness ; Turenne was so kind that he allowed the Palatinate to be burned and put to the ,word. There were seen in the wake of armies more or less of marauders according as the cf mman'lci was noir: or loss severe. Hoche and M;irccau had no tampbllowers ; Wellington — we gladly do him this justice — had lew.

However, during the niglit of the i8th of June, the dead were despoiled, ^^^ellington was rigid ; he ordered whoever should be taken in the act to be put to death ; but «• ipine is persevering. The marauders were roljbing in one comer of the battle-field while they were shootuig thexi in mother.

The Ship Orion.

The moon wa« an evil genius on this plain.

Towards midnight a man was prowling or rather crawling along the sunken road of Ohain. He was, to all appear ance, one of those whom we have just described, neither English nor French, peasant nor soldier, less a man than a ghoul, attracted by the scent of the corpses, counting theft for victory, coming to rifle Waterloo. He was dressed in a blouse which was in part a capote, was restless and daring, looking behind and before as he went. Who was this man ? Night, probably, knew more of his doings than day ! He had no knapsack, but evidently large pockets under his capote. From time to time he stopped, examined the plain around him as if to see if he were observed, stooped down suddenly, stirred on the ground something silent and motionless, then rose up and skulked away. His gliding movement, his attitudes, his rapid and mysterious gestures, made him seem like those twiUght spectres which haunt ruins, and which the old Norman legends call the Goers.