III.
Quoi! des cohortes etrangeres Feraient la loi dans nos foyers?
Quoi! ces phalanges mercenaires Terra.s.seraient nos fiers guerriers?
Grand Dieu! par des mains enchainees, Nos fronts sous le joug se ploieraient; De vils despotes deviendraient Les maitres de nos destinees!
Aux armes, &c.
IV.
Tremblez, tyrans! et vous, perfides, L"opprobre de tous les partis!
Tremblez, vos projets parricides Vont enfin recevoir leur prix!
Tout est soldat pour vous combattre: S"ils tombent nos jeunes heros, La terre en produit les nouveaux, Contre vous tout prets a se battre.
Aux armes, &c.
V.
Francais, en guerriers magnanimes, Portez ou retenez vos coups; Epargnez ces tristes victimes A regret s"armant contre nous.
Mais ces despotes sanguinaires, Mais les complices de Bouille, Tous ces tigres sans pitie Dechirent le sein de leur mere.
Aux armes, &c.
VI.
Amour sacre de la patrie, Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs!
Liberte, liberte cherie, Combats avec tes defenseurs!
Sous nos drapeaux que la Victoire Accoure a tes males accents; Que tes ennemis expirants Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire!
Aux armes, &c.
VERSE SUNG BY CHILDREN.
Nous entrerons dans la carriere, Quand nos aines n"y seront plus; Nous y trouverons leur poussiere, Et la trace de leurs vertus!
Bien moins jaloux de leur survivre Que de partager leur cercueil, Nous aurons le sublime orgueil De les venger ou de les suivre!
Aux armes, &c.[26]
XXVIII.
These words were sung in notes alternately flat and sharp, which seemed to come from the breast with sullen mutterings of national anger, and then with the joy of victory. They had something as solemn as death, but as serene as the undying confidence of patriotism. It seemed a recovered echo of Thermopylae--it was heroism sung.
There was heard the regular footfall of thousands of men walking together to defend the frontiers over the resounding soil of their country, the plaintive notes of women, the wailing of children, the neighing of horses, the hissing of flames as they devoured palaces and huts; then gloomy strokes of vengeance, striking again and again with the hatchet, and immolating the enemies of the people, and the profaners of the soil. The notes of this air rustled like a flag dipped in gore, still reeking in the battle plain. It made one tremble--but it was the shudder of intrepidity which pa.s.sed over the heart, and gave an impulse--redoubled strength--veiled death. It was the "fire-water" of the Revolution, which instilled into the senses and the soul of the people the intoxication of battle. There are times when all people find thus gushing into their national mind accents which no man hath written down, and which all the world feels. All the senses desire to present their tribute to patriotism, and eventually to encourage each other. The foot advances--gesture animates--the voice intoxicates the ear--the ear shakes the heart. The whole heart is inspired like an instrument of enthusiasm. Art becomes divine; dancing, heroic; music, martial; poetry, popular. The hymn which was at that moment in all mouths will never perish. It is not profaned on common occasions. Like those sacred banners suspended from the roofs of holy edifices, and which are only allowed to leave them on certain days, we keep the national song as an extreme arm for the great necessities of the country. Ours was ill.u.s.trated by circ.u.mstances, whence issued a peculiar character, which made it at the same time more solemn and more sinister: glory and crime, victory and death, seemed intertwined in its chorus. It was the song of patriotism, but it was also the imprecation of rage. It conducted our soldiers to the frontier, but it also accompanied our victims to the scaffold. The same blade defends the heart of the country in the hand of the soldier, and sacrifices victims in the hand of the executioner.
XXIX.
The _Ma.r.s.eillaise_ preserves notes of the song of glory and the shriek of death: glorious as the one, funereal like the other, it a.s.sures the country, whilst it makes the citizen turn pale. This is its history.
There was then a young officer of artillery in garrison at Strasbourg, named Rouget de Lisle. He was born at Lons-le-Saunier, in the _Jura_, that country of reverie and energy, as mountainous countries always are. This young man loved war like a soldier--the Revolution like a thinker. He charmed with his verses and music the slow dull garrison life. Much in request from his twofold talent as musician and poet, he visited the house of Dietrick, an Alsatian patriot (_maire of Strasbourg_), on intimate terms. Dietrick"s wife and young daughters shared in his patriotic feelings, for the Revolution was advancing towards the frontiers, just as the affections of the body always commence at the extremities. They were very partial to the young officer, and inspired his heart, his poetry, and his music. They executed the first of his ideas hardly developed, confidantes of the earliest flights of his genius.
It was in the winter of 1792, and there was a scarcity in Strasbourg.
The house of Dietrick was poor, and the table humble; but there was always a welcome for Rouget de Lisle. This young officer was there from morning to night, like a son or brother of the family. One day, when there was only some coa.r.s.e bread and slices of ham on the table, Dietrick, looking with calm sadness at De Lisle, said to him, "Plenty is not seen at our feasts; but what matter if enthusiasm is not wanting at our civic fetes, and courage in our soldiers" hearts. I have still a bottle of wine left in my cellar. Bring it," he added, addressing one of his daughters, "and we will drink to liberty and our country. Strasbourg is shortly to have a patriotic ceremony, and De Lisle must be inspired by these last drops to produce one of those hymns which convey to the soul of the people the enthusiasm which suggested it." The young girls applauded, fetched the wine, filled the gla.s.ses of their old father and the young officer until the wine was exhausted. It was midnight, and very cold. De Lisle was a dreamer; his heart was moved, his head heated.
The cold seized on him, and he went staggering to his lonely chamber, endeavouring, by degrees, to find inspiration in the palpitations of his citizen heart; and on his small clavicord, now composing the air before the words, and now the words before the air, combined them so intimately in his mind, that he could never tell which was first produced, the air or the words, so impossible did he find it to separate the poetry from the music, and the feeling from the impression. He sung every thing--wrote nothing.
x.x.x.
Overcome by this divine inspiration, his head fell sleeping on his instrument, and he did not awake until daylight. The song of the over night returned to his memory with difficulty, like the recollections of a dream. He wrote it down, and then ran to Dietrick. He found him in his garden. His wife and daughters had not yet risen. Dietrick aroused them, called together some friends as fond as himself of music, and capable of executing De Lisle"s composition. Dietrick"s eldest daughter accompanied them, Rouget sang. At the first verse all countenances turned pale, at the second tears flowed, at the last enthusiasm burst forth. The hymn of the country was found. Alas! it was also destined to be the hymn of terror. The unfortunate Dietrick went a few months afterwards to the scaffold to the sound of the notes produced at his own fireside, from the heart of his friend, and the voices of his daughters.
The new song, executed some days afterwards at Strasbourg, flew from city to city, in every public orchestra. Ma.r.s.eilles adopted it to be sung at the opening and the close of the sittings of its clubs. The Ma.r.s.eillais spread it all over France, by singing it every where on their way. Whence the name of _Ma.r.s.eillaise_. De Lisle"s old mother, a royalist and religious, alarmed at the effect of her son"s voice, wrote to him: "What is this revolutionary hymn, sung by bands of brigands, who are traversing France, and with which our name is mingled?" De Lisle himself, proscribed as a royalist, heard it and shuddered, as it sounded on his ears, whilst escaping by some of the wild pa.s.ses of the Alps.
"What do they call that hymn?" he inquired of his guide. "The _Ma.r.s.eillaise_," replied the peasant. It was thus he learnt the name of his own work. The arm turned against the hand that forged it. The Revolution, insane, no longer recognised its own voice!
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See an elegant exposition of this idea in Schlegel"s Dramatic Literature (Standard Library Edition, page 67.).
[2] La Fayette rode a favourite white horse on public occasions during this period.--H. T. R.
[3] "Infamous and contented."--_Junius_.
[4] "Pere d.u.c.h.esne" was one of the most virulent, gross, and blood-thirsty productions of the Revolution. It was edited by Manuel and Hebert. Its success and profit were so great, that it had many imitators. It was rather a pamphlet than a newspaper, the price fifty sous a month--H. T. R.
[5] It has been generally understood that Voltaire was born at Chatenay, _near_ Paris, in February, 1694.--H. T. R.
[6] Voltaire"s residence in Switzerland, where he lived nearly twenty years.--H. T. R.
[7] Qu. Middles.e.x in 1769?--H. T. R.
[8] This appellation is given to a period of French history extending from 1643 to 1655. By some it is styled an attempt to establish a balanced const.i.tution in the state,--by others, the last essay of expiring feudality. The _frondeur_ leaders were the Duc de Beaufort, Cardinal de Retz, Prince de Conti, Duc de Bouillon, Mareschaux Turenne and de la Motte. On the side of their opponents, called _Mazarins_, were the Cardinal Mazarin himself, the Prince de Conde, Marechal de Grammont, and the Duc de Chatillon, while the Duc d"Orleans, a vacillating man, wavered between the two parties. The successes of the rival powers were alternate for a long time; eventually the _frondeurs_ were defeated, and De Retz escaping into Lorraine, Mazarin returned to Paris triumphant in February 1653.--H. T. R.
[9] If M. de Lamartine would convey the idea that Burke was a partisan of the French Revolution, we must combat the a.s.sertion by a reference to dates. Talleyrand was amba.s.sador in England in 1792. In October 1791, Burke"s "Reflections on the Revolution in France" appeared, to which Tom Paine"s "Rights of Man" was one of the replies, and Sir James Mackintosh"s "Vindiciae" another; and previously, in 1789 and 1790, Burke had condemned the tendencies of the Revolution, and the conduct of the Revolutionists.--H. T. R.
[10]
-------- immedicabile vulnus Ense recidendum, ne pars sincera trahatur.
[11] Co-editor with Hebert of the disgusting "Pere d.u.c.h.esne."--H. T. R.
[12] "Dux faemina facti."--VIRG.
[13] This extract has been given before at p. 247.--_Translator._