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The Recruit..........................................................................................................................................................1

Honore de Balzac .....................................................................................................................................1

On an evening in the month of November, 1793, the principal persons of Carentan were assembled in the

salon of Madame de Dey, where they met daily. Several circumstances which would never have attracted

attention in a large town, though they greatly preoccupied the little one, gave to this habitual rendezvous an

unusual interest. For the two preceding evenings Madame de Dey had closed her doors to the little company,

on the ground that she was ill. Such an event would, in ordinary times, have produced as much effect as the

closing of the theatres in Paris; life under those circumstances seems merely incomplete. But in 1793,

Madame de Dey's action was likely to have fatal results. The slightest departure from a usual custom became,

almost invariably for the nobles, a matter of life or death. To fully understand the eager curiosity and

searching inquiry which animated on this occasion the Norman countenances of all these rejected visitors, but

more especially to enter into Madame de Dey's secret anxieties, it is necessary to explain the role she played

at Carentan. The critical position in which she stood at this moment being that of many others during the

Revolution the sympathies and recollections of more than one reader will help to give color to this narrative.

Madame de Dey, widow of a lieutenantgeneral, chevalier of the Orders, had left the court at the time of the

emigration. Possessing a good deal of property in the neighborhood of Carentan, she took refuge in that town,

hoping that the influence of the Terror would be little felt there. This expectation, based on a knowledge of

the region, was wellfounded. The Revolution committed but few ravages in Lower Normandy. Though

Madame de Dey had known none but the nobles of her own caste when she visited her property in former

years, she now felt it advisable to open her house to the principle bourgeois of the town, and to the new

governmental authorities; trying to make them pleased at obtaining her society, without arousing either hatred

or jealousy. Gracious and kind, gifted by nature with that inexpressible charm which can please without

having recourse to subserviency or to making overtures, she succeeded in winning general esteem by an

exquisite tact; the sensitive warnings of which enabled her to follow the delicate line along which she might

satisfy the exactions of this mixed society, without humiliating the touchy pride of the parvenus, or shocking

Then about thirtyeight years of age, she still preserved, not the fresh plump beauty which distinguishes the

daughters of Lower Normandy, but a fragile and, so to speak, aristocratic beauty. Her features were delicate

and refined, her figure supple and easy. When she spoke, her pale face lighted and seemed to acquire fresh

life. Her large dark eyes were full of affability and kindness, and yet their calm, religious expression seemed

Married in the flower of her age to an old and jealous soldier, the falseness of her position in the midst of a

court noted for its gallantry contributed much, no doubt, to draw a veil of melancholy over a face where the

charms and the vivacity of love must have shone in earlier days. Obliged to repress the naive impulses and

emotions of a woman when she simply feels them instead of reflecting about them, passion was still virgin in

the depths of her heart. Her principal attraction came, in fact, from this innate youth, which sometimes,

however, played her false, and gave to her ideas an innocent expression of desire. Her manner and

appearance commanded respect, but there was always in her bearing, in her voice, a sort of looking forward

to some unknown future, as in girlhood. The most insensible man would find himself in love with her, and

yet be restrained by a sort of respectful fear, inspired by her courtly and polished manners. Her soul, naturally

noble, but strengthened by cruel trials, was far indeed from the common run, and men did justice to it. Such a

soul necessarily required a lofty passion; and the affections of Madame de Dey were concentrated on a single

sentiment,that of motherhood. The happiness and pleasure of which her married life was deprived, she

found in the passionate love she bore her son. She loved him not only with the pure and deep devotion of a

mother, but with the coquetry of a mistress, and the jealousy of a wife. She was miserable away from him,

uneasy at his absence, could never see him enough, and loved only through him and for him. To make men

understand the strength of this feeling, it suffices to add that the son was not only the sole child of Madame

de Dey, but also her last relation, the only being in the world to whom the fears and hopes and joys of her life

The late Comte de Dey was the last surviving scion of his family, and she herself was the sole heiress of her

own. Human interests and projects combined, therefore, with the noblest deeds of the soul to exalt in this

mother's heart a sentiment that is always so strong in the hearts of women. She had brought up this son with

the utmost difficulty, and with infinite pains, which rendered the youth still dearer to her; a score of times the

doctors had predicted his death, but, confident in her own presentiments, her own unfailing hope, she had the

happiness of seeing him come safely through the perils of childhood, with a constitution that was ever

Thanks to her constant care, this son had grown and developed so much, and so gracefully, that at twenty

years of age, he was thought a most elegant cavalier at Versailles. Madame de Dey possessed a happiness

which does not always crown the efforts and struggles of a mother. Her son adored her; their souls

understood each other with fraternal sympathy. If they had not been bound by nature's ties, they would

instinctively have felt for each other that friendship of man to man, which is so rarely to be met in this life.

Appointed sublieutenant of dragoons, at the age of eighteen, the young Comte de Dey had obeyed the point

of honor of the period by following the princes of the blood in their emigration.

Thus Madame de Dey, noble, rich, and the mother of an emigre, could not be unaware of the dangers of her

cruel situation. Having no other desire than to preserve a fortune for her son, she renounced the happiness of

emigrating with him; and when she read the vigorous laws by virtue of which the Republic daily confiscated

the property of emigres, she congratulated herself on that act of courage; was she not guarding the property of

her son at the peril of her life? And when she heard of the terrible executions ordered by the Convention, she

slept in peace, knowing that her sole treasure was in safety, far from danger, far from scaffolds. She took

pleasure in believing that they had each chosen the wisest course, a course which would save to HIM both

With this secret comfort in her mind, she was ready to make all the concessions required by those evil days,

and without sacrificing either her dignity as a woman, or her aristocratic beliefs, she conciliated the

goodwill of those about her. Madame de Dey had fully understood the difficulties that awaited her on

coming to Carentan. To seek to occupy a leading position would be daily defiance to the scaffold; yet she

pursued her even way. Sustained by her motherly courage, she won the affections of the poor by comforting

indiscriminately all miseries, and she made herself necessary to the rich by assisting their pleasures. She

received the procureur of the commune, the mayor, the judge of the district court, the public prosecutor, and

The first four of these personages, being bachelors, courted her with the hope of marriage, furthering their

cause by either letting her see the evils they could do her, or those from which they could protect her. The

public prosecutor, previously an attorney at Caen, and the manager of the countess's affairs, tried to inspire

her with love by an appearance of generosity and devotion; a dangerous attempt for her. He was the most to

be feared among her suitors. He alone knew the exact condition of the property of his former client. His

passion was increased by cupidity, and his cause was backed by enormous power, the power of life and death

throughout the district. This man, still young, showed so much apparent nobleness and generosity in his

proceedings that Madame de Dey had not yet been able to judge him. But, disregarding the danger that

attends all attempts at subtilty with Normans, she employed the inventive wit and slyness which Nature

grants to women in opposing the four rivals one against the other. By thus gaining time, she hoped to come

safe and sound to the end of the national troubles. At this period, the royalists in the interior of France

expected day by day that the Revolution would be ended on the morrow. This conviction was the ruin of very

In spite of these difficulties, the countess had maintained her independence very cleverly until the day when,

by an inexplicable imprudence, she closed her doors to her usual evening visitors. Madame de Dey inspired

so genuine and deep an interest, that the persons who called upon her that evening expressed extreme anxiety

on being told that she was unable to receive them. Then, with that frank curiosity which appears in provincial

manners, they inquired what misfortune, grief, or illness afflicted her. In reply to these questions, an old

housekeeper named Brigitte informed them that her mistress had shut herself up in her room and would see

no one, not even the servants of the house. The semicloistral existence of the inhabitants of a little town

creates so invincible a habit of analyzing and explaining the actions of their neighbors, that after

compassionating Madame de Dey (without knowing whether she were happy or unhappy), they proceeded to

"If she were ill," said the first Inquisitive, "she would have sent for the doctor; but the doctor has been all day

long playing chess with me. He told me, laughing, that in these days there was but one malady, and that was

This joke was cautiously uttered. Men, women, old men, and young girls, all set to work to explore the vast

field of conjecture. The next day, conjectures became suspicions. As life is all aboveboard in a little town, the

women were the first to learn that Brigitte had made larger purchases than usual in the market. This fact

could not be disputed: Brigitte had been seen there, very early in the morning; and, extraordinary event! she

had bought the only hare the market afforded. Now all the town knew that Madame de Dey did not like game.

The hare became, therefore, the point of departure for a vast array of suspicions. The old men who were

taking their walks abroad, remarked a sort of concentrated activity about Madame de Dey's premises, shown

by the very precautions which the servants took to conceal it. The foot man was beating a carpet in the

garden. The day before, no one would have noticed that fact; but the carpet now became a cornerstone on

which the whole town built up its theories. Each individual had his or her surmise.

The second day, on learning that Madame de Dey declared herself ill, the principal personages of Carentan,

assembled in the evening at the house of the mayor's brother, an old married merchant, a man of strict

integrity, greatly respected, and for whom Madame de Dey had shown much esteem. There all the aspirants

for the hand of the rich widow had a tale to tell that was more or less probable; and each expected to turn to

his own profit the secret event which he thus recounted. The public prosecutor imagined a whole drama to

result in the return by night of Madame de Dey's son, the emigre. The mayor was convinced that a priest who

refused the oath had arrived from La Vendee and asked for asylum; but the day being Friday, the purchase of

a hare embarrassed the good mayor not a little. The judge of the district court held firmly to the theory of a

Chouan leader or a body of Vendeans hotly pursued. Others were convinced that the person thus harbored

was a noble escaped from the Paris prisons. In short, they all suspected the countess of being guilty of one of

those generosities, which the laws of the day called crimes, and punished on the scaffold. The public

prosecutor remarked in a low voice that it would be best to say no more, but to do their best to save the poor

"If you talk about this affair," he said, "I shall be obliged to take notice of it, and search her house, and

The sincere friends of Madame de Dey were so alarmed about her, that on the morning of the third day, the

procureursyndic of the commune made his wife write her a letter, urging her to receive her visitors as usual

that evening. Bolder still, the old merchant went himself in the morning to Madame de Dey's house, and,

strong in the service he wanted to render her, he insisted on seeing her, and was amazed to find her in the

"She must be protecting a lover," thought the old man, filled with sudden pity for the charming woman.

The singular expression on the countess's face strengthened this conjecture. Much moved at the thought of

such devotion, for all men are flattered by the sacrifices a woman makes for one of them, the old man told the

countess of the rumors that were floating about the town, and the dangers to which she was exposing herself.

"For," he said in conclusion, "though some of the authorities will readily pardon a heroism which protects a

priest, none of them will spare you if they discover that you are sacrificing yourself to the interests of your

At these words Madame de Dey looked at the old man with a wild and bewildered air, that made him

"Come," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him into her bedroom. After assuring herself that they

She fell into a chair, seemingly exhausted. While the old man searched for his spectacles and rubbed their

glasses, she raised her eyes to him, and seemed to study him with curiosity; then she said in an altered voice,

She quivered. For the first time in that little town, her soul sympathized with that of another. The old man

now understood both the hopes and the fears of the poor woman. The letter was from her son. He had

returned to France to share in Granville's expedition, and was taken prisoner. The letter was written from his

cell, but it told her to hope. He did not doubt his means of escape, and he named to her three days, on one of

which he expected to be with her in disguise. But in case he did not reach Carentan by the third day, she

might know some fatal difficulty had occurred, and the letter contained his last wishes and a sad farewell.

"This is the third day," cried the countess, rising and walking hurriedly up and down.

"You have been very imprudent," said the merchant. "Why send Brigitte to buy those provisions?"

"I am sure of my brother the mayor," said the old man. "I will see him at once, and put him in your interests."

After talking with the mayor, the shrewd old man made visits on various pretexts to the principal families of

Carentan, to all of whom he mentioned that Madame de Dey, in spite of her illness, would receive her friends

that evening. Matching his own craft against those wily Norman minds, he replied to the questions put to him

on the nature of Madame de Dey's illness in a manner that hoodwinked the community. He related to a gouty

old dame, that Madame de Dey had almost died of a sudden attack of gout in the stomach, but had been

relieved by a remedy which the famous doctor, Tronchin, had once recommended to her,namely, to apply

the skin of a freshlyflayed hare on the pit of the stomach, and to remain in bed without making the slightest

movement for two days. This tale had prodigious success, and the doctor of Carentan, a royalist "in petto,"

Nevertheless, suspicions had taken too strong a root in the minds of some obstinate persons, and a few

philosophers, to be thus dispelled; so that all Madame de Dey's usual visitors came eagerly and early that

evening to watch her countenance: some out of true friendship, but most of them to detect the secret of her

They found the countess seated as usual, at the corner of the great fireplace in her salon, a room almost as

unpretentious as the other salons in Carentan; for, in order not to wound the narrow view of her guests, she

denied herself the luxuries to which she was accustomed. The floor of her reception room was not even

waxed, the walls were still hung with dingy tapestries; she used the country furniture, burned tallow candles,

and followed the customs of the town,adopting provincial life, and not shrinking from its pettiness or its

many disagreeable privations. Knowing, however, that her guests would pardon luxuries if provided for their

own comfort, she neglected nothing which conduced to their personal enjoyment, and gave them, more

Toward seven o'clock on this memorable evening, her guests were all assembled in a wide circle around the

fireplace. The mistress of the house, sustained in her part by the sympathizing glances of the old merchant,

submitted with wonderful courage to the minute questioning and stupid, or frivolous, comments of her

visitors. At every rap upon her door, every footfall echoing in the street, she hid her emotions by starting

topics relating to the interests of the town, and she raised such a lively discussion on the quality of ciders,

which was ably seconded by the old merchant, that the company almost forgot to watch her, finding her

countenance quite natural, and her composure imperturbable. The public prosecutor and one of the judges of

the revolutionary tribunal was taciturn, observing attentively every change in her face; every now and then

they addressed her some embarrassing question, to which, however, the countess answered with admirable

After Madame de Dey had arranged the card parties, placing some guests at the boston, and some at the whist

tables, she stood talking to a number of young people with extreme ease and liveliness of manner, playing her

part like a consummate actress. Presently she suggested a game of loto, and offered to find the box, on the

"I am suffocating, my poor Brigitte," she cried, wiping the tears that gushed from her eyes, now brilliant with

fever, anxiety, and impatience. "He does not come," she moaned, looking round the room prepared for her

son. "Here alone I can breathe, I can live! A few minutes more and he MUST be here; for I know he is living.

I am certain of it, my heart says so. Don't you hear something, Brigitte? I would give the rest of my life to

know at this moment whether he were still in prison, or out in the free country. Oh! I wish I could stop

She again examined the room to see if all were in order. A good fire burned on the hearth, the shutters were

carefully closed, the furniture shone with rubbing; even the manner in which the bed was made showed that

the countess had assisted Brigitte in every detail; her hopes were uttered in the delicate care given to that

room where she expected to fold her son in her arms. A mother alone could have thought of all his wants; a

choice repast, rare wine, fresh linen, slippers, in short, everything the tired man would need,all were there

that nothing might be lacking; the comforts of his home should reveal to him without words the tenderness of

"Brigitte!" said the countess, in a heartrending tone, placing a chair before the table, as if to give a

semblance of reality to her hopes, and so increase the strength of her illusions.

"Ah! madame, he will come. He is not far off. I haven't a doubt he is living, and on his way," replied Brigitte.

"I put a key in the Bible, and I held it on my fingers while Cottin read a chapter in the gospel of Saint John;

"Oh! madame, that's a wellknown sign. I would wager my salvation, he still lives. God would not so deceive

"Poor Monsieur Auguste!" cried Brigitte, "he must be toiling along the roads on foot."

She dared not stay away any longer from her guests; but before reentering the salon, she paused a moment

under the peristyle of the staircase, listening if any sound were breaking the silence of the street. She smiled

at Brigitte's husband, who was standing sentinel at the door, and whose eyes seemed stupefied by the

Madame de Dey reentered her salon, affecting gaiety, and began to play loto with the young people; but

Such was the situation of affairs, and of people's minds in the house of Madame de Dey, while along the

road, between Paris and Cherbourg, a young man in a brown jacket, called a "carmagnole," worn de rigueur

at that period, was making his way to Carentan. When drafts for the army were first instituted, there was little

or no discipline. The requirements of the moment did not allow the Republic to equip its soldiers

immediately, and it was not an unusual thing to see the roads covered with recruits, who were still wearing

citizen's dress. These young men either preceded or lagged behind their respective battalions, according to

The young man of whom we are now speaking, was much in advance of a column of recruits, known to be on

its way from Cherbourg, which the mayor of Carentan was awaiting hourly, in order to give them their billets

for the night. The young man walked with a jades step, but firmly, and his gait seemed to show that he had

long been familiar with military hardships. Though the moon was shining on the meadows about Carentan, he

had noticed heavy clouds on the horizon, and the fear of being overtaken by a tempest may have hurried his

steps, which were certainly more brisk than his evident lassitude could have desired. On his back was an

almost empty bag, and he held in his hand a boxwood stick, cut from the tall broad hedges of that shrub,

This solitary wayfarer entered Carentan, the steeples of which, touched by the moonlight, had only just

appeared to him. His step woke the echoes of the silent streets, but he met no one until he came to the shop of

a weaver, who was still at work. From him he inquired his way to the mayor's house, and the wayworn

recruit soon found himself seated in the porch of that establishment, waiting for the billet he had asked for.

Instead of receiving it at once, he was summoned to the mayor's presence, where he found himself the object

of minute observation. The young man was goodlooking, and belonged, evidently, to a distinguished family.

His air and manner were those of the nobility. The intelligence of a good education was in his face.

"Where do you come from?" continued the magistrate, with a smile of incredulity.

"Your comrades are at some distance," resumed the Norman official, in a sarcastic tone.

"Some strong feeling must be bringing you to Carentan, citizen recruit," said the mayor, slyly. "Very good,

very good," he added hastily, silencing with a wave of his hand a reply the young man was about to make. "I

know where to send you. Here," he added, giving him his billet, "take this and go to that house, 'Citizen

So saying, the mayor held out to the recruit a billet, on which the address of Madame de Dey's house was

"He knows he hasn't far to go," thought the mayor as the recruit left the house. "That's a bold fellow! God

guide him! He seemed to have his answers ready. But he'd have been lost if any one but I had questioned him

At that instant, the clocks of Carentan struck halfpast nine; the lanterns were lighted in Madame de Dey's

antechamber; the servants were helping their masters and mistresses to put on their clogs, their cloaks, and

their mantles; the cardplayers had paid their debts, and all the guests were preparing to leave together after

"The prosecutor, it seems, has stayed behind," said a lady, perceiving that that important personage was

missing, when the company parted in the large square to go to their several houses.

That terrible magistrate was, in fact, alone with the countess, who waited, trembling, till it should please him

"Citoyenne," he said, after a long silence in which there was something terrifying, "I am here to enforce the

"Ah! madame," cried the prosecutor, changing his tone and seating himself beside her, "at this moment, for

want of a word between us, you and I may be risking our heads on the scaffold. I have too long observed your

character, your soul, your manners, to share the error into which you have persuaded your friends this

The countess made a gesture of denial; but she had turned pale, the muscles of her face contracted from the

effort that she made to exhibit firmness, and the implacable eye of the public prosecutor lost none of her

"Well, receive him," continued the functionary of the Revolution, "but do not keep him under your roof later

than seven o'clock in the morning. Tomorrow, at eight, I shall be at your door with a denunciation."

"I will prove," he continued in a kindly voice, "the falsity of the denunciation, by making a careful search of

the premises; and the nature of my report will protect you in future from all suspicions. I will speak of your

Madame de Dey feared a trap, and she stood motionless; but her face was on fire, and her tongue stiff in her

"Yes, we will save him," said the official, giving her a look of passion; "if it costs us our life, we will save

"Madame," he said, with an oratorical movement, "I will owe you only to yourself."

"Madame, he has come," cried Brigitte, rushing in and thinking her mistress was alone.

At sight of the public prosecutor, the old woman, flushed and joyous as she was, became motionless and

"A recruit, whom the mayor has sent to lodge here," replied Brigitte, showing the billet.

"True," said the prosecutor, reading the paper. "We expect a detachment tonight."

The countess had too much need at this moment to believe in the sincerity of her former attorney, to distrust

his promise. She mounted the stairs rapidly, though her strength seemed failing her; then she opened the door,

"Oh! my child! my child!" she cried, sobbing, and covering him with kisses in a sort of frenzy.

"Ah! it is not he!" she cried, recoiling in terror, and standing erect before the recruit, at whom she gazed with

There was silence for a moment. The recruit himself shuddered at the aspect of Madame de Dey.

"Ah! monsieur," she said, leaning on Brigitte's husband, who had entered the room, and feeling to its fullest

extent an agony the fear of which had already nearly killed her. "Monsieur, I cannot stay with you longer.

"Oh! madame," said Brigitte, as she undressed her mistress, "must that man sleep in Monsieur Auguste's bed,

and put on Monsieur Auguste's slippers, and eat the pate I made for Monsieur Auguste? They may guillotine

At that moment the recruit made a noise in the room above by sitting down to his supper.

"I cannot stay here!" cried Madame de Dey. "I will go into the greenhouse; there I can hear what happens

She still floated between the fear of having lost her son and the hope of his suddenly appearing.

The night was horribly silent. There was one dreadful moment for the countess, when the battalion of recruits

passed through the town, and went to their several billets. Every step, every sound, was a hope, and a lost

hope. After that the stillness continued. Towards morning the countess was obliged to return to her room.

Brigitte, who watched her movements, was uneasy when she did not reappear, and entering the room she

"She must have heard that recruit walking about Monsieur Auguste's room, and singing their damned

Marseillaise, as if he were in a stable," cried Brigitte. "That was enough to kill her!"

The death of the countess had a far more solemn cause; it resulted, no doubt, from an awful vision. At the

exact hour when Madame de Dey died at Carentan, her son was shot in the Morbihan. That tragic fact may be

added to many recorded observations on sympathies that are known to ignore the laws of space: records

which men of solitude are collecting with farseeing curiosity, and which will some day serve as the basis of

a new science for which, up to the present time, a man of genius has been lacking.