Les Misérables, v. 1/5: Fantine

by Victor Hugo

  CHAPTER VII.

  CRAVATTE.

  Here naturally comes a fact which we must not omit, for it is one ofthose which will enable us to see what manner of man the Bishop ofD---- was. After the destruction of the band of Gaspard B?s, which hadinfested the gorges of Ollioules, Cravatte, one of his lieutenants,took refuge in the mountains. He concealed himself for a while with hisbrigands, the remnant of B?s' band, in the county of Nice, then wentto Piedmont, and suddenly re-appeared in France, via Barcelonnette. Hewas seen first at Jauziers, and next at Tuiles; he concealed himselfin the caverns of the Joug de l'Aigle, and descended thence on thehamlets and villages by the ravines of the Ubaye. He pushed on even asfar as Embrun, entered the church one night and plundered the sacristy.His brigandage desolated the country, and the gendarmes were in vainplaced on his track. He constantly escaped, and at times even offeredresistance, for he was a bold scoundrel. In the midst of all thisterror the Bishop arrived on his visitation, and the Mayor came to himand urged him to turn back. Cravatte held the mountain as far as Archeand beyond, and there was danger, even with an escort. It would beuselessly exposing three or four unhappy gendarmes.

  "For that reason," said the Bishop, "I intend to go without escort."

  "Can you mean it, Monseigneur?" the Mayor exclaimed.

  "I mean it so fully that I absolutely refuse gendarmes, and intend tostart in an hour."

  "Monseigneur, you will not do that!"

  "There is in the mountain," the Bishop continued, "a humble littleparish, which I have not visited for three years. They are good friendsof mine, and quiet and honest shepherds. They are the owners of onegoat out of every thirty they guard; they make very pretty woollenropes of different colors, and they play mountain airs on smallsix-holed flutes. They want to hear about heaven every now and then,and what would they think of a bishop who was afraid? What would theysay if I did not go?"

  "But, Monseigneur, the brigands."

  "Ah," said the Bishop, "you are right; I may meet them. They too mustwant to hear about heaven."

  "But this band is a flock of wolves."

  "Monsieur Mayor, it may be that this is precisely the flock of whichChrist has made me the shepherd. Who knows the ways of Providence?"

  "Monseigneur, they will plunder you."

  "I have nothing."

  "They will kill you."

  "A poor old priest who passes by, muttering his mummery? Nonsense, whatgood would that do them?"

  "Oh, good gracious, if you were to meet them!"

  "I would ask them for alms for my poor."

  "Monseigneur, do not go. In Heaven's name do not, for you expose yourlife."

  "My good sir," said the Bishop, "is that all? I am not in this world tosave my life, but to save souls."

  There was no help for it, and he set out only accompanied by a lad,who offered to act as his guide. His obstinacy created a sensation inthe country, and caused considerable alarm. He would not take eitherhis sister or Madame Magloire with him. He crossed the mountain on amule, met nobody, and reached his good friends the goat-herds safe andsound. He remained with them a fortnight, preaching, administering thesacraments, teaching, and moralizing. When he was ready to start forhome he resolved to sing a Te Deum pontifically, and spoke about it tothe Cur?. But what was to be done? There were no episcopal ornaments.All that could be placed at his disposal was a poor village sacristy,with a few old faded and pinchbeck covered chasubles.

  "Pooh!" said the Bishop; "announce the Te Deum in your sermon for allthat. It will come right in the end."

  Inquiries were made in the surrounding churches: but all themagnificence of these united humble parishes would not have beensufficient decently to equip a cathedral chorister. While they were inthis embarrassment a large chest was brought and left at the curacy forthe Bishop by two strange horse-men, who started again at once. Thechest was opened and found to contain a cope of cloth of gold, a mitreadorned with diamonds, an archiepiscopal cross, a magnificent crozier,and all the pontifical robes stolen a month back from the treasury ofour Lady of Embrun. In the chest was a paper on which were writtenthese words: "Cravatte to Monseigneur Welcome."

  "Did I not tell you that it would be all right?" the Bishop said; thenhe added with a smile, "God sends an archbishop's cope to a man who iscontented with a cur?'s surplice."

  "Monseigneur," the Cur? muttered, with a gentle shake of his head,"God--or the devil."

  The Bishop looked fixedly at the Cur? and repeated authoritatively,"God!"

  When he returned to Chastelon, and all along the road, he was regardedcuriously. He found at the Presbytery of that town Mlle. Baptistine andMadame Magloire waiting for him, and he said to his sister, "Well, wasI right? The poor priest went among these poor mountaineers with emptyhands, and returns with his hands full. I started only taking with memy confidence in Heaven, and I bring back the treasures of a cathedral."

  The same evening before retiring he said too, "Never let us fearrobbers or murderers. These are external and small dangers; let us fearourselves; prejudices are the real robbers, vices the true murderers.The great dangers are within ourselves. Let us not trouble about whatthreatens our head or purse, and only think of what threatens oursoul." Then, turning to his sister, he added, "Sister, a priest oughtnever to take precautions against his neighbor. What his neighbordoes God permits, so let us confine ourselves to praying to God whenwe believe that a danger is impending over us. Let us pray, not forourselves, but that our brother may not fall into error on our account."

  Events, however, were rare in his existence. We relate those we know,but ordinarily he spent his life in always doing the same things at thesame moment. A month of his year resembled an hour of his day. As towhat became of the treasure of Embrun Cathedral, we should be greatlyembarrassed if questioned on that head. There were many fine things,very tempting and famous to steal on behalf of the poor. Stolen theywere already, one moiety of the adventure was accomplished: the onlything left to do was to change the direction of the robbery, and makeit turn slightly towards the poor. Still, we affirm nothing on thesubject; we merely mention that among the Bishop's papers a ratherobscure note was found, which probably refers to this question, and wasthus conceived: "The question is to know whether it ought to go to thecathedral or the hospital."