From The Revue Du Monde Catholique.
XXII.
During these terrible events, I dare say the combatants were not the most to be pitied. They, at least, were in action, in the midst of powder and noise; and if they fell, wounded or dead, they scarcely had time to know it. But think of the poor friends and relatives who remained without news, and almost without strength to seek any information! They were to be pitied.
Perhaps you may live in a city, which does not prevent you from sometimes going to the country; and so you can understand how certain villages are isolated from all daily communication. Our hamlet of Ordonniers, although near the large city of Issoudun, was, in this respect, worse off than many other places; for when M. le Marquis was absent from the château, there was no daily paper, none of the villagers being liberal enough to indulge in that luxury. The Perdreaux, in their time, subscribed for a paper, which came every other day, and gave the market prices and a jumble of news of people and things here and there about a month old. Even this resource no longer existed. M. le Curé was the only one who cared for what was going on; but as his means were very limited, he contented himself with a little paper which only came every Sunday.
Judge, then, of the terrible anguish at Muiceron; above all, when they saw all the able-bodied men of the commune leave; for you remember that then, for the first time, the provinces showed their teeth at the news of the horrors in Paris, and rose en masse to go and punish the rebellious children of a city that, in her selfishness, disturbed the whole of France without any just right.
The women displayed great bravery. They fitted out their sons, husbands, brothers, and betrothed, and let them leave for the dreadful struggle without wincing. But the next day—but the following days! What anxiety and what tears!
It was touching to see them each morning run before the country stage or speak to the letter-carrier, in hopes of hearing some words to reassure them. Generally, the stage drove rapidly on at a gallop; for stage-drivers are not patient, and the poor creatures' only information was an oath or rough word. As for the letter-carrier, he knew nothing positive, and was content to give the flying reports, which were not enough to quiet those troubled souls.
Jeanne and her mother kept at home. They prayed to God and wept, poor things! It was the best way to learn patience; but their hearts sank within them. It was a hard blow to have been so near happiness, and then suddenly to see it fly, perhaps for ever.
Old Ragaud was miserable that he could not go off with the other men of the neighborhood. He was too old, and this only increased his vexation, as he was but three or four years older than Michou, and he was in the battle! The sadness and ill-humor of the poor old fellow rendered Muiceron still gloomier, and the women neither dared stir nor sigh before him.