the comte de fargas
it is now necessary that our readers should learn who was the unfortunate young man whose body had been placed upon the place de la prefecture, and also who the young woman was who had alighted at the h?tel des grottes de ceyzeriat in the same square.
they were the last remaining scions of an old family of provence. their father, formerly a colonel and chevalier de saint-louis, was born in the same town as barras, with whom he had been intimate in his youth; namely, fos-emphoux. an uncle who had died at avignon, making him his heir, had left him a house in that city. thither he went in 1787, with his children, lucien and diane. lucien at that time was twelve and diane eight. that was the time of early revolutionary ardor, hopeful or fearful, as one was either a patriot or a royalist.
to those who are acquainted with avignon, there were then in that city, as there are now and always have been, two cities in one—the roman city and the french city.
there was the papal city, with its magnificent papal palace, its hundred churches, each more splendid than the other, and its innumerable bells, always ready to sound the tocsin of incendiarism or the knell of murder.
the french city, with its rhone, its silk manufactories, and its crossroads going from north to south, from east to west, from lyons to marseilles, from n?mes to turin—the french city, the accursed city, longing for a king, jealous of its liberties, shuddering beneath the yoke of vassalage, a vassalage with the clergy for its lord.
the clergy—not the clergy as it has been from all times in the gallican church, and such as we see it to-day, pious, tolerantly austere in its duties, living in the world to console and edify it, without mingling in its passions and its[pg 423] joys; but the clergy such as cupidity and intrigue had made it, with its court abbés, rivalling the roman abbé's, idle, elegant, licentious, kings of fashion, autocrats of the salon, frequenters of houses of ill-fame. do you want a type of these abbés? take the abbé maury, proud as a duke, insolent as a lackey, son of a shoemaker, more aristocratic than the son of a great lord.
we have said, avignon, roman city; let us add, avignon, city of hatreds. the heart of the child, born elsewhere free from the taint of hate, came into the world in the midst of hereditary hatred, bequeathed from father to son, and from son to son in turn, a diabolical inheritance for his children. in such a city every one was forced to make definite choice, and act a part in accordance with the importance of his position.
the comte de fargas had been a royalist before coming to avignon. when he settled there, in order to meet his equals he was forced to become a fanatic. from that time he was looked upon as one of the royalist leaders and one of the standard-bearers of religion.
the time of which we are speaking was, as we have said, the year '87, the dawn of our independence. and so, at the first cry of liberty which was uttered in france, the french city rose full of joy and hope. the moment had come for her to contest aloud the concession made by a young queen under age, of a city, a province, and half a million souls, in order to atone for her crimes. by what right had she sold these souls forever to a foreign master?
all france hastened to the champ de mars, to meet in the fraternal embrace of the federation. all paris had labored to prepare that immense piece of ground; where sixty-seven years after the time of this fraternal embrace it was to invite all europe to the universal exposition—the triumph of peace and industry over war. avignon alone was excluded from this great love-feast; avignon alone had no part in this universal communion. was not avignon, then, a part of france?
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avignon named deputies who went to the papal legate and gave him twenty-four hours in which to leave the city. during the night the roman party, with the comte de fargas at its head, by way of revenge, amused itself by hanging a manikin wearing the tri-colored cockade.
it is possible to direct the course of the rhone, to canal the durance, to dam up the fierce torrents which, on the melting of the winter's snow, precipitate themselves in liquid avalanches from the peaks of mont ventoux; but this terrible living flood, this human torrent which rushed through the steep incline of the streets of avignon, when once loosed, once launched on its way, heaven itself put forth no hand to stay its course.
at sight of the manikin with the national colors dangling at the end of a cord, the french city rose upon its very foundations with shrieks of rage. the comte de fargas, who knew his avignonese, retired, on the night of this clever expedition which he had led, to the house of one of his friends in the valley of the vaucluse. four of his retainers, who were rightly suspected of having taken part in this expedition, were torn from his home and strung up in the manikin's stead. in order to accomplish this they seized ropes forcibly from a worthy man named lescuyer, who was afterward falsely accused by the royalists of having volunteered to furnish them. this occurred on the 11th of june, 1790.
the french city as a unit wrote to the national assembly and gave itself to france, and with itself its rhone, its commerce, the midi, and the half of provence. the national assembly, was in one of its reactionary moods; it did not wish to quarrel with the pope, and it temporized with the king; the matter was therefore postponed.
from that moment the patriotic movement in avignon became a revolt, and the pope was empowered to punish and repress. pope pius vi. ordered the annulment of all that had been done in the comtat-venaissin, and the reestablishment of the privileges of the nobles and the clergy,[pg 425] and also that of the inquisition in all its rigor. the comte de fargas returned triumphantly to avignon, and not only no longer concealed the fact that he had strung up the manikin with the tri-colored cockade, but even boasted of it. no one dared to say anything. the pontifical decrees were posted.
one man, one only, dared, in open day, in the sight of all, to go straight to the wall on which the decree was affixed and tear it down. his name was lescuyer. he was the man who had already been accused of furnishing ropes to hang the royalists. it will be remembered that he had been wrongfully accused. he was not a young man, and he therefore had not been swayed by the passions of youth. no, he was almost an old man, and not even a native of the country. he was a frenchman of picardy, impulsive and reflective at the same time. he was a notary, who had long been established at avignon. this act of his was a crime at which all roman avignon trembled—a crime so great that the virgin wept over it.
you see, avignon is already italy; it must have its miracles at any cost, and if heaven would not provide them, some one would be found to invent them. this particular miracle occurred in the church of the cordeliers. the crowd flocked thither.
a report was started at the same time which brought the excitement to a climax. a large chest, tightly sealed, had been carried through the city. this chest had excited the curiosity of the people of avignon. what did it contain? two hours later it was no longer one chest, but eighteen, which had been seen going in the direction of the rhone. as for their contents, a porter had revealed that they were the treasures of the mont-de-piété which the french party were carrying with them in their departure from avignon. the treasures of the mont-de-piété—that is to say, the possessions of the poor! the more wretched a city the richer its pawnshops. few cities could boast such wealth in their pawnshops as could[pg 426] avignon. this was no longer a matter of political opinion, it was a theft, an infamous theft. whites and blues, or, in other words, royalists and patriots, rushed to the church of the cordeliers, not to see the miracle, but to shout that the municipality should answer to them for this crime.
monsieur de fargas was naturally at the head of those who shouted the loudest.
