A Girl of the Commune Page 4

  CHAPTER IV.

  A year later Cuthbert Hartington was sitting in a room, somewhat betterfurnished than the majority of the students' lodgings, on the secondfloor of a house in Quartier Latin. The occupant of the room below,Arnold Dampierre, was with him. He was a man three or four yearsCuthbert's junior, handsome, grave-eyed, and slightly built; he was anative of Louisiana, and his dark complexion showed a taint of Mulattoblood in his veins.

  "So you have made up your mind to stay," he said.

  "Certainly, I intend to see it through; in the first place I don't wantto break off my work, and as you know am ambitious enough to intend toget a couple of pictures finished in time for the Salon, althoughwhether they will hang there, is another matter altogether."

  "Don't pretend to be modest, Cuthbert. You know well enough they will behung, and more than that, they will be a success. I would wager ahundred dollars to a cent on it, though you haven't as yet settled onthe subjects. You know that you are Goude's favorite pupil and that hepredicts great things for you, and there is not one of us who does notagree with him. You know what Goude said of the last thing you did.'Gentlemen, I should be proud to be able to sign my name in the cornerof this picture, it is admirable.'"

  "It was but a little thing," Cuthbert said, carelessly, but neverthelesscoloring slightly, "I hope to do much better work in the course ofanother year." Then he went back to the former subject of conversation.

  "Yes, I shall see it through. We have had a good many excitementsalready--the march away of the troops, and the wild enthusiasm and theshouts of 'A Berlin!' I don't think there was a soul in the crowd whowas not convinced that the Germans were going to be crumpled up like asheet of paper. It was disgusting to hear the bragging in the studio,and they were almost furious with me when I ventured to hint mildly thatthe Prussians were not fools, and would not have chosen this time toforce France into a war if they had not felt that they were much betterprepared for it than Napoleon was. Since then it has been just asexciting the other way--the stupor of astonishment, the disappointmentand rage as news of each disaster came in; then that awful business atSedan, the uprising of the scum here, the flight of the Empress, theproclamation of the Republic, and the idiotic idea that seized theParisians that the Republic was a sort of fetish, and that the mere factof its establishment would arrest the march of the Germans. Well, now weare going to have a siege, I suppose, and as I have never seen one, itwill be interesting. Of course I have no shadow of faith in thechattering newspaper men and lawyers, who have undertaken the governmentof France; but they say Trochu is a good soldier, and Paris ought to beable to hold out for some time. The mobiles are pouring in, and I thinkthey will fight well, especially the Bretons. Their officers aregentlemen, and though I am sure they would not draw a sword for theRepublic, they will fight sturdily for France. I would not miss it foranything. I am not sure that I shan't join one of the volunteerbattalions myself."

  "You have nothing to do with the quarrel," his companion said.

  "No, I have nothing to do with the quarrel; but if I were walking alongthe streets and saw a big lout pick a quarrel with a weaker one and thenproceed to smash him up altogether, I fancy I should take a hand in thebusiness. The Germans deliberately forced on the war. They knewperfectly well that when they put up a German Prince as candidate forthe throne of Spain it would bring on a war with France. Why, weourselves were within an ace of going to war with France when Guizotbrought about the Spanish marriage, although it was comparatively ofslight importance to us that Spain and France should be united. But tothe French this thing was an absolutely vital question, for with Germanyand Spain united their very existence would be threatened, and they hadnothing for it but to fight, as Germany knew they would have to do."

  "But the candidature was withdrawn, Hartington."

  "Withdrawn! ay, after the damage was done and France in a flame ofindignation. If a man meets me in the street and pulls me by the nose,do you think that if he takes off his hat and bows and says that hewithdraws the insult I am going to keep my hands in my pockets? Twicealready has France been humiliated and has stood it? Once when Prussiamade that secret treaty with Bavaria and Baden, and threw it scornfullyin her face; the second time over that Luxembourg affair. Does Germanythink that a great nation, jealous of its honor and full of fieryelements, is going to stand being kicked as often as she chooses tokick her? You may say that France was wrong in going to war when she wasreally unprepared, and I grant she was unwise, but when a man keeps oninsulting you, you don't say to yourself I must go and take lessons inboxing before I fight him. You would hit out straight even if he weretwice as big as yourself. That is what I feel about it, Dampierre, andfeeling so I fancy that when the thing begins here I shall get too hotover it to help joining in. Ah, here come some of the lads."

  There was a clatter of feet on the staircase, and a moment later half adozen young Frenchmen ran in in a state of wild excitement.

  "They have entered Versailles, a party of their horsemen have been seenfrom Valerian, and a shot has been fired at them. They have fled."

  "Well, I should think they naturally would," Cuthbert said. "A handfulof horsemen are not likely to remain to be made targets of by the gunsof Valerian."

  "It is the beginning of the end," one of the students exclaimed. "Pariswill assert herself, France will come to her assistance, and the Germanswill find that it is one thing to fight against the armies of a despot,and another to stand before a free people in arms."

  "I hope so, Rene, but I own I have considerable doubts of it. A man whenhe begins to fight, fights because he is there and has got to do it. Ifhe does not kill the enemy he will be killed; if he does not thrash theenemy he will be thrashed; and for the time being the question whetherit is by a despot or by a Provisional Government that he is ruled doesnot matter to him one single jot. As to the Parisians, we shall see. Isincerely hope, they will do all that you expect of them, but in pointof fact I would rather have a battalion of trained soldiers than abrigade of untrained peasants or citizens, however full of ardor theymay be."

  "Ah, you English, it is always discipline, discipline."

  "You are quite right, Rene, that is when it comes to fighting in theopen; fighting in the streets of a town is a very different thing. ThenI grant individual pluck will do wonders. Look at Saragosa, look atLucknow. Civilians in both cases fought as well as the best trainedsoldiers could do, but in the field discipline is everything. Puttingaside the great battles where your feudal lords, with their brave butundisciplined followers, met our disciplined bow and billmen, look atthe Jacquerie, the peasants were brave enough, and were animated by hateand despair, but they were scattered like chaff by mere handfuls ofknights and men-at-arms. The Swiss have defended their mountains againstthe armies of despots, because they had mountains to defend, and wereaccustomed to scaling the rocks, and all good shots, just as the peopleof a town might hold their streets. I believe that you will hold Paris.I doubt whether the Germans will ever be able to enter your walls, butfamine will enter, and, defend yourselves as obstinately as you may, thetime must come when food will give out."

  "As if we should wait to be starved," another of the students saidscoffingly. "If the time comes when there's nothing to eat, we would setParis on fire and hurl ourselves every man upon the Germans, and fightour way through. Do you think that they could block every road roundParis?"

  "I know nothing about military affairs, Leroux, and therefore don'tsuppose anything one way or the other. I believe the Parisians will makea gallant defence, and they have my heartiest good wishes and sympathy,and when all you men join the ranks my intention is to go with you. Butas to the end, my belief is that it will be decided not by Paris but byFrance."

  "Bravo, bravo, Cuthbert," the others exclaimed, "that shows, indeed,that you love France. Rene said he thought you would shoulder a musketwith us, but we said Englishmen only fought either for duty or interest,and we did not see why you should mix yourself up in it."

  "Then yo
u are altogether wrong. If you said Englishmen don't fight forwhat you call glory, you would be right, but you can take my word for itthat in spite of what peace-at-any-price people may say, there are nopeople in the world who are more ready to fight when they think they areright, than Englishmen. We find it hard enough to get recruits in timeof peace, but in time of war we can get any number we want. Theregiments chosen to go to the front are delighted, those who have tostay behind are furious. Glory has nothing to do with it. It is just thelove of fighting. I don't say that I am thinking of joining one of yourvolunteer battalions because I want to fight. I do so because I thinkyou are in the right, and that this war has been forced upon you by theGermans, who are likely to inflict horrible sufferings on the city."

  "Never mind why you are going to fight," Leroux said, "you are going tofight for us, and that is enough. You are a good comrade. And yourfriend, here, what is he going to do?"

  "I shall join also," Dampierre said. "You are a Republic now, like ourown, and of course my sympathies are wholly with you."

  "Vive la Republique! Vive l'Americain!" the students shouted.

  Cuthbert Hartington shrugged his shoulders.

  "We were just starting for a stroll to the walls to see how they aregetting on with the work of demolition. Are any of you disposed to gowith us?"

  They were all disposed, being in so great a state of excitement thatanything was better than staying indoors quietly. The streets were fullof people, carts were rumbling along, some filled with provisions,others with the furniture and effects of the houses now being pulleddown outside the _enciente_, or from the villas and residences at SevresMeudon and other suburbs and villages outside the line of defence.

  Sometimes they came upon battalions of newly-arrived mobiles, who wereloudly cheered by the populace as they marched along; sturdy sunburntpeasants with but little of the bearing of soldiers, but with an earnestserious expression that seemed to say they would do their best againstthe foes who were the cause of their being torn away from their homesand occupations. Staff officers galloped about at full speed; soldiersof the garrison or of Vinoy's Corps, who had come in a day or twobefore, lounged about the streets looking in at the shops. No smallproportion of the male population wore kepis, which showed that theybelonged either to the National Guard or to the battalions that werespringing into existence.

  "Why do we not register our names to-day!" Rene exclaimed.

  "Because a day or two will make no difference," Cuthbert replied, "andit is just as well to find out before we do join something about the menin command. Let us above all things choose a corps where they have hadthe good sense to get hold of two or three army men, who have hadexperience in war, as their field officers. We don't want to be under aworthy citizen who has been elected solely because he is popular in hisquarter, or a demagogue who is chosen because he is a fluent speaker,and has made himself conspicuous by his abuse of Napoleon. This is notthe time for tomfoolery; we want men who will keep a tight hand over us,and make us into fair soldiers. It may not be quite agreeable at first,but a corps that shows itself efficient is sure to be chosen when thereis work to be done, and will be doing outpost duty, whilst many of theothers will be kept within the walls as being of no practical use. Justat present everything is topsy-turvy, but you may be sure that Trochuand Vinoy, and the other generals will gradually get things into shape,and will not be long before they find what corps are to be depended onand what are not."

  Crossing the river they made their way out beyond the walls. Even thelight-hearted students were sobered by the sight beyond. Thousands ofmen were engaged on the work of demolition. Where but ten days sincestood villas surrounded by gardens and trees, there was now a mere wasteof bricks and mortar stretching down to the Forts of Issy and Vanves.The trees had all been felled and for the most part cut up and carriedinto Paris for firewood. Most of the walls were levelled, and frequentcrashes of masonry showed that these last vestiges of bright and happyhomes would soon disappear. A continuous stream of carts andfoot-passengers came along the road to the gate--the men grim andbitter, the women crying, and all laden with the most valued of theirlittle belongings. Numbers of cattle and herds of sheep, attended byguards, grazed in the fields beyond the forts.

  "By Jove, Dampierre," Cuthbert said, "if I hadn't made up my mind tojoin a corps before, this scene would decide me. It is pitiful to seeall these poor people, who have no more to do with the war than thebirds in the air, rendered homeless. A good many of the birds have beenrendered homeless too, but fortunately for them it is autumn instead ofspring, and they have neither nests nor nestlings to think of, and canfly away to the woods on the slopes below Meudon."

  "What a fellow you are, Hartington, to be thinking of the birds whenthere are tens of thousands of people made miserable."

  "I fancy the birds are just as capable of feeling misery as we are,"Cuthbert said quietly, "not perhaps over trivial matters, though they dobicker and quarrel a good deal among themselves, but they have theirgreat calamities, and die of thirst, of hunger, and of cold. I rememberduring a very hard frost some years ago our garden was full of dyingbirds, though my father had bushels of grain thrown to them every day.It was one of the most painful sights I ever saw, and I know I feltpretty nearly as much cut up at it as I do now. I hate to see dumbanimals suffer. There is a sort of uncomplaining misery about them thatappeals to one, at any rate appeals to me, infinitely. These poorfellows are suffering too, you will say. Yes, but they have theirconsolation. They promise themselves that as soon as they get into Paristhey will join a corps and take vengeance on those who have hurt them.They may think, and perhaps with reason, that when the trouble is over,they will find their cottages still standing, and will take up lifeagain as they left it. They have at least the consolation of swearing, aconsolation which, as far as I know, is denied to animals and birds."

  "You are a rum fellow, Hartington, and I never know when you are inearnest and when you are not."

  "Let us go back," Rene Caillard, who, with the others, had beenstanding silently, said abruptly. "This is too painful; I feelsuffocated to think that such a humiliation should fall on Paris. Surelyall civilized Europe will rise and cry out against this desecration." Heturned and with his comrades walked back towards the gate. Cuthbertfollowed with Arnold Dampierre.

  "That is just the way with them," the former said, "it would have beenno desecration had they encamped before Berlin, but now, because it isthe other way, they almost expect a miracle from Heaven to interpose intheir favor. Curious people the French. Their belief in themselves isfirm and unshakable, and whatever happens it is the fault of others, andnot of themselves. Now, in point of fact, from all we hear, the Germansare conducting the war in a very much more humane and civilized way thanthe French would have done if they had been the invaders, and yet theytreat their misfortunes as if high Heaven had never witnessed suchcalamities. Why, the march of the Germans has been a peaceful processionin comparison with Sherman's march or Sheridan's forays. They havesacked no city, their path is not marked by havoc and conflagration;they fight our men, and maybe loot deserted houses, but as a ruleunarmed citizens and peasants have little to complain of."

  "That is true enough," the other agreed reluctantly.

  "My opinion is," Cuthbert went on, "that all these poor people who areflocking into Paris are making a hideous mistake. If they stopped intheir villages the betting is that no harm would have come to them;whereas now they have left their homes unguarded and untenanted--and itwould not be human nature if the Germans did not occupy them--while inParis they will have to go through all the privations and hardships of asiege and perhaps of a bombardment; besides there are so many morehungry mouths to feed. In my opinion Trochu and the ProvisionalGovernment would have acted very much more wisely had they issued anorder that no strangers, save those whose houses have been destroyed,should be allowed to enter the city, and advising the inhabitants of allthe villages round either to remain quietly in their homes, or to retireto places at
a distance. Fighting men might, of course, come in, butall useless mouths will only hasten the date when famine will force thecity to surrender."

  "You seem very sure that it will surrender sooner or later, Hartington,"Dampierre said, irritably. "My opinion is that all France will rise andcome to her rescue."

  "If Bazaine cuts his way out of Metz they may do it, but we have heardnothing of his moving, and the longer he stays the more difficulty hewill have of getting out. He has a fine army with him, but if he oncegives time to the Germans to erect batteries commanding every road outof the place, he will soon find it well-nigh impossible to make asortie. Except that army France has nothing she can really rely upon. Itis all very well to talk of a general rising, but you can't create anarmy in the twinkling of an eye; and a host of half-disciplinedpeasants, however numerous, would have no chance against an enemy whohave shown themselves capable of defeating the whole of the trainedarmies of France. No, no, Dampierre, you must make up your mindbeforehand that you are going in on the losing side. Paris may hold outlong enough to secure reasonable terms, but I fancy that is about allthat will come of it."

  The other did not reply. He had something of the unreasoning faith thatpervaded France, that a Republic was invincible, and that France wouldfinally emerge from the struggle victorious.

  "We shall try and find out to-night about the corps," Rene Caillardsaid, as the others overtook them some distance inside the gates. "Afterwhat we have seen to-day we are all determined to join without delay. Iheard last night from some men at Veillant's that they and a good manyothers have put their names down for a corps that is to be called theChasseurs des Ecoles. They said they understood that it was to becomposed entirely of students. Not all art, of course, but law and otherschools."

  "That would be just the thing," Cuthbert said, "if they can only getsome good officers. One likes the men one has to work with to be alittle of one's own class. Well, if the officers are all right you canput my name down. I suppose there is no occasion for me to go myself."

  "Of course there is occasion, lazy one. You have to be sworn in."

  Cuthbert nodded. "I suppose we shan't have to give up work altogether?"

  "I should think not," Rene said. "I suppose we shall have two or threehours' drill in the morning and nothing more till the time for actioncomes. Of course the troops and the mobiles will do the work at theforts and walls, and we shall be only called out if the Prussiansventure to attack us, or if we march out to attack them."

  "So much the better. I came here to work, and I want to stick to it andnot waste my time in parades and sentry duty. Well, we shall meet at thestudio in the morning and you can give us your news then."

  Some fifteen young men met on the following morning at Goude's studio.

  "Now, gentlemen," said the artist, a short man, with a large head, andan abundant crop of yellow hair falling on to his shoulders, "please toattend to business while you are here. Paint--you have plenty of timeoutside to discuss affairs."

  M. Goude was an artist of considerable talent, but of peppery temper. Hehad at one time gone to war with the Hanging Committee of the Salonbecause one of his paintings had been so badly hung that he declared itto be nothing short of an insult, and had forthwith proceeded to publishthe most violent strictures upon them. The result was that on thefollowing year his pictures were not hung at all, whereupon, afteranother onslaught upon them, he had declared his determination neveragain to submit a picture to the judgment of men whose natural stupiditywas only equalled by their ignorance of art.

  This vow he had for eight years adhered to, only occasionally painting apicture and selling it privately, but devoting himself almost entirelyto the studio he had opened, when he ceased exhibiting. He was anadmirable teacher and his list of pupils was always full. He was anexacting master and would take none but students who showed markedability. As a preliminary picture had to be presented to him forexamination, and at least three out of four of the canvases sufficed toensure their authors' prompt rejection.

  It was, therefore, considered an honor to be one of Goude's pupils, butit had its drawbacks. His criticisms were severe and bitter; and he fellinto violent passions when, as Leroux once observed, he looked like theyellow dwarf in a rage. Cuthbert had heard of him from Terrier, who saidthat Goude had the reputation of being by far the best master in Paris.He had presented himself to him as soon as he arrived there; hisreception had not been favorable.

  "It is useless, Monsieur," the master had said, abruptly, "there are twoobjections. In the first place you are too old, in the second place youare a foreigner, and I do not care to teach foreigners. I never had butone here, and I do not want another. He was a Scotchman, and because Itold him one day when he had produced an atrocious daub, that he was animbecile pig, he seized me and shook me till my teeth chattered in myhead, and then kicked over the easel and went out."

  "You may call me an imbecile pig if you like," Cuthbert said with hisquiet smile, "it would hurt me in no way. I have come over to learn, andI am told you are the best master in Paris. When a man is a great masterhe must be permitted to have his peculiarities, and if he likes to treatgrown-up men as children, of course he can do so, for are we notchildren in art by his side."

  Monsieur Goude was mollified, but he did not show it.

  "Have you brought any canvases with you?"

  "I have brought the last two things I did before leaving London."

  "Well, you can bring them if you like," the master said, ungraciously,"but I warn you it will be useless. You English cannot paint, even thebest of you. You have no soul, you are monotonous, but you may bringthem."

  An hour later Cuthbert returned to the studio, which was now occupied bythe students.

  "You are prompt," the master said, looking round from the student whosework he was correcting with no small amount of grumbling andobjurgation. "Put your things on those two spare easels, I will look atthem presently."

  Seeing that several of the other students were smoking, Cuthbert filledand lighted his pipe, calmly placed the pictures on the easels withouttaking off the cloths in which they were wrapped, and then put his handsinto the pockets of his velvet jacket and looked round the room. Afterhis experience of some of the luxuriously arranged studios at St. John'sWood, the room looked bare and desolate. There was no carpet and not asingle chair or lounge of any description. Some fifteen young fellowswere painting. All wore workmen's blouses. All had mustaches, and mostof them had long hair. They appeared intent on their work, but smilesand winks were furtively exchanged, and the careless nonchalance of thistall young Englishman evidently amused them. In four or five minutes M.Goude turned round and walked towards the easels. Cuthbert stepped tothem and removed the cloths. The master stopped abruptly, looked at themwithout speaking for a minute or two, then walked up and closelyexamined them.

  "They are entirely your own work?" he asked.

  "Certainly, I did not show either of them to my master until I hadfinished them."

  They were companion pictures. The one was a girl standing in a verandacovered with a grapevine, through which bright rays of sunshine shone,one of them falling full on her face. She was evidently listening, andthere was a look of joyous expectancy in her face. Underneath, on themargin of the canvas, was written in charcoal, "Hope." The otherrepresented the same figure, darkly dressed, with a wan, hopeless lookin her face, standing on a rock at the edge of an angry sea, over whichshe was gazing; while the sky overhead was dark and sombre without arift in the hurrying clouds. It was labelled "Despair."

  For two or three minutes longer M. Goude looked silently at the picturesand then turning suddenly called out, "Attention, gentlemen. Regardthese pictures, they are the work of this gentleman who desires to entermy studio. In the eight years I have been teaching I have had over twohundred canvases submitted to me, but not one like these. I need not saythat I shall be glad to receive him. He has been well taught. Histechnique is good and he has genius. Gentlemen, I have the honor topresent to
you Monsieur Cuthbert Hartington, who is henceforth one ofyou."

  The students crowded round the pictures with exclamations of surpriseand admiration. It was not until M. Goude said sharply "to work," thatthey returned to their easels.

  "You will find canvases in that cupboard if you like to set at work atonce. Choose your own size and subject and sketch it out in chalk. Ishould like to see how you work. Ah, you have a portfolio. I will lookthrough your sketches this afternoon if you will leave it here."

  Cuthbert chose a canvas from a pile ready stretched, selected a sketchfrom his portfolio of a wayside inn in Normandy, pinned it on the easelabove the canvas, and then began to work. M. Goude did not come near himuntil the work was finished for the morning, then he examined what hehad just done.

  "You work rapidly," he said, "and your eye is good. You preserve theexact proportions of the sketch, which is excellent, though it wasevidently done hastily, and unless I mistake was taken before you hadbegun really to paint. You did not know how to use color, though theeffect is surprisingly good, considering your want of method at thetime. I will look through your portfolio while I am having my lunch. Inan hour we resume work." So saying he took up the portfolio and left theroom. The students now came up to Cuthbert and introduced themselves oneby one.

  "You see our master in his best mood to-day," one said. "I never haveseen him so gracious, but no wonder. Now we have no ceremony here. I amRene, and this is Pierre, and this Jean, and you will be Cuthbert."

  "It is our custom in England," Cuthbert said, "that a new boy alwayspays his footing; so gentlemen, I hope you will sup with me thisevening. I am a stranger and know nothing of Paris; at any rate nothingof your quarter, so I must ask two of you to act as a committee with me,and to tell me where we can get a good supper and enjoy ourselves."

  From that time Cuthbert had been one of the brotherhood and shared inall their amusements, entering into them with a gayety and heartinessthat charmed them and caused them to exclaim frequently that he couldnot be an Englishman, and that his accent was but assumed. ArnoldDampierre had been admitted two months later. He had, the master said,distinct talent, but his work was fitful and uncertain. Some days hewould work earnestly and steadily, but more often he was listless andindolent, exciting M. Goude's wrath to fever heat.

  Among the students he was by no means a favorite. He did not seem tounderstand a joke, and several times blazed out so passionately thatCuthbert had much trouble in soothing matters down, explaining to theangry students that Dampierre was of hot southern blood and that hiswords must not be taken seriously. Americans, he said, especially in thesouth, had no idea of what the English call chaff, and he begged them asa personal favor to abstain from joking with him, or it would only leadto trouble in the studio.