Marvellous as are her activities, especially for a woman of her years, it is even more by her spirit than by her deeds that Juliette Adam deserves well of her country. For forty-four years she has seen this war coming—she foresaw even the route of the invading forces, maintaining always that they would march through Belgium. She has realised how German aggressiveness “was placing the peace of Europe at the mercy of an incident.” But she has never for a moment doubted that when the struggle came la patrie would be triumphant. With Gambetta she has always believed that, however dark might be la patrie’s horizon, the spirit of France could not be overcast for ever. For this apostle of l’idée française has never failed to read aright the history of her noble land, to behold in it the country of reawakenings and resurrections.
There is hardly a family in France to which the war has not brought the sorrow of bereavement. Mme. Adam’s family is no exception. Lieutenant Madier, her youngest granddaughter’s husband, fell in the Battle of the Marne. He alone of all the officers of his battalion remained alive, when he was seriously wounded in the knee. Refusing to allow his men to bear him to a place of safety, he endeavoured to rise. “I am the only one left,” he cried. “Forward!” Barely had he uttered the word when a shell shattered the dwelling-place of this brave spirit.
Despite the unspeakable sufferings of France, despite her personal sorrows, she whom Gambetta used to call Madame Intégrale has ever flouted the remotest suggestion of a premature peace. When some of the women of the allied countries consented to go to the Hague, there to confer with the women of Germany, Mme. Adam addressed to them in the columns of the Figaro a stern rebuke, explaining at the same time how impossible it was for any Frenchwoman so much as to entertain the idea of taking part in such a conference. The heroic endurance, the unflinching faith of this stalwart woman animated the victors of the Marne, the defenders of Verdun. Now in this, the third year of the war, she is convinced that ultimate triumph cannot long be delayed. “1917,” exclaims la grande Française, “’71 reversed. That blessed date rings like the joy-bells of victory in my old veteran’s ears.”
FOOTNOTES:
[388] Souvenirs, V. 159.
[389] Souvenirs, V. 365.
[390] Ibid., VII. 79.
[391] Salons et Journaux (1917).
[392] L’Entre-deux-Guerres (1915).
[393] Vol. I. Le Roman de mon Enfance et de ma Jeunesse.
“ II. Mes Premières Armes Littéraires et Politiques.
” III. Mes Sentiments et nos Idées avant 1870.
“ IV. Mes Illusions et nos Souffrances pendant le siège de Paris.
” V. Mes Angoisses et nos Luttes, 1871-3.
“ VI. Nos Amitiés Politiques avant l’Abandon de la Revanche.
” VII. Après l’Abandon de la Revanche.