CHAPTER XXXVII La France Demande Home they brought her warrior dead. IN the year 1840, the Duke of Orleans, the eldest son of King Louis Philippe, was sent with the French army into Africa to check the growing power of Abd-el-Kader, and with him went his younger brother, the Duke d'Aumale. It was with much chagrin that the Prince de Joinville, third son of Louis Philippe, saw his brothers depart to this new field of glory to "break their lances right brilliantly." And then he fell ill with the measles and disappointment, for he too had hoped to have a mission of honor and renown. You shall have one, Prince de Joinville, and one far greater than your brothers. Their African campaigns are long ago forgotten, but the memory of your mission endures, and will endure while time shall last. And so, as he lay in a high fever, there came to his bedside his father, King Louis Philippe, and M. de Remusat, the Minister of the Interior, and the King said these words: "Joinville, you are to go out to St. Helena and bring back Napoleon's coffin." On the 2nd of July the Prince de Joinville left Paris, and on the 6th he embarked at Toulon on board his frigate, the "Bellepoule," and set out for St. Helena. Well, the news of this mission was known before long in Grenoble and it created no little sensation there. The old veterans who met at the Trois Dauphins talked it over and arranged to go in a body to take part in the procession in Paris. They came also to the Cafe Jodelle to see grand-pere Pasquin and to know if grand-pere Pasquin was going too. Yes indeed! grand-pere Pasquin was going. So they all remained with him during the afternoon, the best bottles in the Cafe Jodelle were opened, and they talked over the days gone by. "Ah," said old Pasquin, looking up at the sabre of honor, if only brave Philippe Courteau could have lived to see this day, and Henri Jodelle, too, for during many years they would not believe him dead, but said always, 'It is false rumor to deceive us. He will come again.'" So the summer passed, but in the last days of November the grand-pere Pasquin fell ill and this was the way of it. He had been to the cemetery one Sunday, for he went often on Sundays to see the three white stones bearing the names. "La Veuve Pasquin," "Marie," "Henri Jodelle." And on this Sunday it was late when he came, and after he had remained some time beside the stones, he went slowly to the gates, but they were fastened and there was no one near them. He shook the gates and cried, "Open!" But no one came, for the custodian had gone away to eat a supper with his friend Le Rolle at the Place St. Andre. Then old Pasquin tried to climb the wall, but he slipped and fell. The wall was not low, so the fall stunned him and he lay on the ground. It was dark now, and the wind blew more strongly and shook the leafless trees. Presently the rain came, a sharp, cold rain, that fell hard and chill and made the water run in rivulets along the sides of the path. After some hours the rain stopped, but the night was damp and cold, and through it all the grand-pere Pasquin lay upon the ground. When morning came the jardinier Simon Benoit found him there, close to the wall, soaked with water and stiff with cold. Benoit in haste gave him some brandy and had him taken home to the Cafe Jodelle, where Gaspard, Josephine and Susanne soon arrived, for they had been to Vizille. Worried enough they were, you may be sure, and he was rubbed and warmed and put to bed. But he grew very ill, and the skilful doctor, M. Sardique, who was summoned, shook his head and said, "He is very sick, Josephine, he is very sick." Then fever set in; he was often delirious and he would cry, "Doctor, Doctor, shall I live to go to Paris? Shall I live to go to Paris?" "Yes, yes, grand-pere, you shall go to Paris," said M. Sardique, to quiet him. When the fever left him he was very weak, but when the doctor came again he repeated his question, "Doctor, shall I go to Paris?" "Grand-pere," said M. Sardique, "you have been very ill, you are very ill now. You must not think of that." Old Pasquin was silent for a moment, then he looked fixedly at M. Sardique and said, "Doctor, I will go to meet the Emperor. I will go to Paris." He grew somewhat better after that, but it was all in vain that Josephine and Gaspard strove to show him that he was not strong enough to travel. He let them say what they thought right, and then he said briefly, and each time with more determination than before, "I will go to Paris!" So in December they set out; Josephine, Susanne and Gaspard, watching and tending the old soldier. He stood the journey better than they anticipated, and when he saw once more the towers of Notre Dame, the dome of the Tuileries Palace and the Arc de Triomphe, the fire came again into the old soldier's eyes. Paris was all expectant when they reached it, for on the 29th of November the royal frigate "Bellepoule" had arrived at Cherbourg, bearing the Emperor's remains. And when on the 8th of December the Imperial barge started up the Seine, Cherbourg saluted with one thousand guns. Gaspard took them to the Cafe Bovard, on the Avenue des Champs Elysees, for Jules Bovard who owned it was a son of stout Robert Bovard who had been at Pierre's wedding feast, and they knew him well. The 15th of December drew near. All day the workmen labored on the decorations of the city, and all night they worked, too, by the light of torches, for the " Bellepoule " had come ten days sooner than she was expected, and there was need to hurry. The weather was bitter cold, but the sturdy workmen labored on by day and by night. The 15th of December came, and on either side of the Avenue des Champs Elysees were statues of victory, eagle-topped standards and tripods and arches. About the Arc de Triomphe were masts bearing banners inscribed with the names of all the armies of the Republic and of the Empire; garlands of flowers hung from the top of the Arch to the basement, and upon the summit was a statue of the Emperor in his Imperial robes, at his right hand an equestrian statue of Glory, at his left an equestrian statue of Victory, and all about tripods of colored flame. Over the Pont de la Concorde were statues of Wisdom, Justice, Strength, War, Commerce, Agriculture, Eloquence, while before the portals of the Chambre des Deputes Palace loomed a colossal statue of Immortality. On the Esplanade des Invalides were statues of Kings and famous Captains of France, who had given their country honor and renown, from Clovis to Macdonald. Between them all were tripods sending forth bright flames, and they stood thus, in long white rows, awaiting the great one soon to pass before them. The Avenue des Champs Elysees was lined with National Guards on either side, and behind them were five hundred thousand people, and there were forty thousand more upon the great stands on the Invalides Esplanade and thousands more within the Invalides Church and upon every housetop, while in a window of the Cafe Bovard were Gaspard, Josephine, Susanne, and, in a chair, the grand-pere Pasquin, and so the march began. At the head of the procession came the Gendarmerie of the Seine with their trumpets and their colonel, then the Garde Municipale à cheval with trumpets and standard; two squadrons of the 7th Lancers, the Commandant of Paris and his staff, a battalion of infantry of the Line, the Garde Municipale a pied with flag and drums and colonel, the General of Division and his staff, the Ecole Militaire of St. Cyr, the Ecole Polytechnique, the Ecole Etat-Major, battalions of infantry, cavalry and artillery, squadrons of cuiras |