The construction of the crown was entrusted to MM. Fannieres of Paris,
the best workers of gold in France. They put their best art and skill
into the crown. It consisted of two branches of laurel in dead gold,
large and knotted behind, like the crowns of the Caesars and the poets,
with a ruby, artistically arranged, containing the simple device: La
Ville d'Agen, a Jasmin! The pendants of the laurel, in dead silver, were
mixed with the foliage. The style of the work was severe and pure, and
the effect of the chef d'oeuvre was admirable.
The public meeting, at which the golden crown was presented to Jasmin,
was held on the 27th of November, 1856, in the large hall of the Great
Seminary. Gilt banners were hung round the walls, containing the titles
of Jasmin's principal poems, while the platform was splendidly decorated
with emblems and festoons of flowers. Although the great hall was of
large dimensions, it could not contain half the number of people who
desired to be present on this grand occasion.
An immense crowd assembled in the streets adjoining the seminary.
Jasmin, on his arrival, was received with a triple salvo of applause
from the crowd without, and next from the assembly within. On the
platform were the members of the subscription committee, the prefect,
the Bishop of Agen, the chiefs of the local government, the general
in command of the district, and a large number of officers and
ecclesiastics.
Jasmin, when taking his place on the platform saluted the audience with
one of his brilliant impromptus, and proceeded to recite some of his
favourite poems: Charity; The Doctor of the Poor; Town and Country;
and, The Week's Work of a Son. Then M. Noubel, in his double capacity
of deputy for the department, and member of the subscription committee,
addressed Jasmin in the following words:
"Poet, I appear here in the name of the people of Agen, to offer you the
testimony of their admiration and profound sympathy. I ask you to accept
this crown! It is given you by a loving and hearty friend, in the
name of your native town of Agen, which your poetry has charmed, which
rejoices in your present success, and is proud of the glory of your
genius. Agen welcomed the first germs of your talent; she has seen it
growing, and increasing your fame; she has entered with you into
the palaces of kings; she has associated herself with your triumphs
throughout; now the hour of recognising your merits has arrived, and she
honours herself in crowning you.
"But it is not merely the Poet whom we recognise to-day; you have a much
greater claim to our homage. In an age in which egoism and the eager
thirst for riches prevails, you have, in the noble work which you have
performed, displayed the virtues of benevolence and self-sacrifice. You
yourself have put them into practice. Ardent in the work of charity, you
have gone wherever misery and poverty had to be relieved, and all that
you yourself have received was merely the blessings of the unfortunate.
Each of your days has been celebrated for its good works, and your whole
life has been a hymn to benevolence and charity.
"Accept, then, Jasmin, this crown! Great poet, good citizen, you have
nobly earned it! Give it an honoured place in that glorious museum of
yours, which the towns and cities of the South have enriched by their
gifts. May it remain there in testimony of your poetical triumphs, and
attest the welcome recognition of your merits by your fellow-citizens.
"For myself, I cannot but be proud of the mission which has been
entrusted to me. I only owe it, I know, to the position of deputy in
which you have placed me by popular election. I am proud, nevertheless,
of having the honour of crowning you, and I shall ever regard this event
as the most glorious recollection of my life."
After this address, during which M. Noubel was greatly moved, he
took the crown of gold and placed it on the head of the poet. It is
impossible to describe the enthusiasm of the meeting at this supreme
moment. The people were almost beside themselves. Their exclamations of
sympathy and applause were almost frantic. Jasmin wept with happiness.
After the emotion hard subsided, with his eyes full of tears, he recited
his piece of poetry entitled: The Crown of my Birthplace.{2}
In this poem, Jasmin took occasion to recite the state of poverty in
which he was born, yet with the star of poetry in his breast; his dear
mother, and her anxieties about his education and up-bringing; his
growth; his first efforts in poetical composition, and his final
triumph; and at last his crown of gold conferred upon him by the people
of Agen--the crown of his birthplace.
"I feel that if my birthplace crowns me,
In place of singing. . . I should weep!"
After Jasmin had recited his touching poem, he affectionately took leave
of his friends, and the assembly dispersed.
Endnotes to Chapter XVIII.
{1} There is a Gascon proverb which says:
"Qu'a vingt ans nouns po,
Qu'a trent ans noun sa,
Qu'a cranto noun er,
Qu'a cincanto se paouso pa,
Sabe pa que pot esper."
"Who at twenty does nothing; Who at thirty knows nothing;
Who at forty has nothing;
Who at fifty changes nothing:
For him there is no hope."
{2} Perhaps this might be better rendered "The Crown of my Infancy;" in
Gascon, "La Courouno del Bres."
CHAPTER XIX. LAST POEMS--MORE MISSIONS OF CHARITY.
This was the last occasion on which Jasmin publicly appeared before his
fellow-townsmen; and it could not perhaps have been more fitting and
appropriate. He still went on composing poetry; amongst other pieces,
La Vierge, dedicated to the Bishop of Algiers, who acknowledged it in a
complimentary letter. In his sixty-second year, when his hair had become
white, he composed some New Recollections (Mous Noubels Soubenis), in
which he again recalled the memories of his youth. In his new Souvenirs
he only gives a few fresh stories relating to the period of his infancy
and youth. Indeed they scarcely go beyond the period covered by his
original Souvenirs.
In the midst of his various honours at Paris, Toulouse, and Agen, he did
not forget his true mission, the help and relief of the afflicted. He
went to Albi, and gave a recitation which produced 2000 francs. The
whole of this sum went to the poor. There was nothing for himself
but applause, and showers of flowers thrown at his feet by the ladies
present.
It was considered quite unprecedented that so large a sum should have
been collected in so poor a district. The mayor however was prepared for
the event. After a touching address to the poet, he presented him with
a ring of honour, with the arms of the town, and the inscribed words:
"Albi a Jasmin."
He went for the same purpose, to Castera in the Gers, a decayed town,
to recite his poems, in the words of the cure, for "our poor church." He
was received as usual with great enthusiasm; and a present of silver
was given to him with the inscribed words: "A Jasmin, l'Eglise du Castera
reconnaissante!" Jasmin answered, by reciting an impromptu he had
composed for the occasion.
At Bordeaux, one of his favourite cities, he was received with more
than the usual enthusiasm. There he made a collection in aid of the
Conference of Saint-vincent de Paul. In the midst of the seance, he
appeared almost inspired, and recited "La Charite dans Bordeaux"--the
grand piece of the evening. The assembly rose en masse, and cheered the
poet with frantic applause. The ladies threw an avalanche of bouquets at
the hero of the fete.
After quiet had been restored, the Society of Saint-vincent de Paul
cordially thanked Jasmin through the mouth of their President; and
presented him with a magnificent golden circlet, with this inscription:
"La Caritat dins Bourdeau!"
Among his other recitations towards the close of his life, for the
purpose of collecting money for the relief of the poor, were those at
Montignac in Perigord; at Saint-Macaire; at Saint-Andre de Cubzac, and
at Monsegur. Most of these were remote villages far apart from each
other. He had disappointed his friends at Arcachon several years before,
when he failed to make his appearance with the Abbe Masson, during their
tour on behalf of the church of Vergt, owing to the unpunctuality of the
steamboat; but he promised to visit them at some future period.
He now redeemed his promise. The poor were in need, and he went to their
help. A large audience had assembled to listen to his recitations, and
a considerable sum of money was collected. The audience overwhelmed
him with praises and the Mayor of Teste the head department of the
district--after thanking Jasmin for his admirable assistance, presented
him with a gold medal, on which was inscribed: "Fete de Charite
d'Arcachon: A Jasmin." These laurels and medals had become so numerous,
that Jasmin had almost become tired of such tributes to his benevolence.
He went to Bareges again, where Monseigneur the Bishop of Tarbes had
appealed to him for help in the erection of an hospital. From that town
he proceeded to Saint-Emilion and Castel-Naudary, to aid the Society
of Mutual Help in these two towns. In fact, he was never weary of
well-doing. "This calamitous winter," he wrote in January, 1854,
"requires all my devotion. I will obey my conscience and give myself
to the help of the famished and suffering, even to the extinction of my
personal health."
And so it was to the end. When his friends offered him public
entertainments, he would say, "No, no! give the money to the poor!" What
gave Jasmin as much pleasure as any of the laurels and crowns conferred
upon him, was a beautifully bound copy of the 'Imitation of Christ,'
with the following inscription: "A testimony from the Bishop of
Saint-Flour, in acknowledgment of the services which the great poet has
rendered to the poor of his diocese."
No poet had so many opportunities of making money, and of enriching
himself by the contributions of the rich as well as the poor. But such
an idea never entered his mind. He would have regarded it as a sacrilege
to evoke the enthusiasm of the people, and make money; for his own
benefit, or to speculate upon the triumphs of his muse. Gold earned in
this way, he said, would have burnt his fingers. He worked solely for
the benefit of those who could not help themselves. His poetry was to
him like a sweet rose that delighted the soul and produced the fruits of
charity.
His conduct has been called Quixotic. Would that there were more
Quixotes in the world! After his readings, which sometimes produced from
two to three thousand francs, the whole of the proceeds were handed
over to those for whose benefit they had been given, after deducting,
of course, the expenses of travelling, of which he kept a most accurate
account.
It is estimated that the amount of money collected by Jasmin during his
recitations for philanthropic objects amounted to at least 1,500,000
francs (equal to 62,500 sterling). Besides, there were the labour of
his journeys, and the amount of his correspondence, which were almost
heroic. M. Rabain{1} states that from 1825 to 1860, the number of
letters received by Jasmin was more than twelve thousand.
Mr. Dickens, in giving the readings from his works in Great Britain,
netted over 35,000 sterling, besides what he received for his readings
in America. This, of course, led quite reasonably to the enhancing of
his fortune. But all that Jasmin received from his readings was given
away--some say "thrown away"--to the poor and the needy. It is not
necessary to comment on such facts; one can only mention and admire
them.
The editor of Le Pays says: "The journeys of Jasmin in the South were
like a triumphal march. No prince ever received more brilliant ovations.
Flowers were strewn in his way; the bells rang out on his appearance;
the houses were illuminated; the Mayors addressed him in words of
praise; the magistrates, the clergy followed him in procession. Bestowed
upon a man, and a poet, such honours might seem exaggerated; but Jasmin,
under the circumstances, represented more than poetry: he represented
Charity. Each of his verses transformed him into an alms-giver; and from
the harvest of gold which he reaped from the people, he preserved for
himself only the flowers. His epics were for the unfortunate. This was
very noble; and the people of Agen should be proud of their poet."{2}
The account which Jasmin records of his expenses during a journey of
fifty days, in which he collected more than 20,000 francs, is very
remarkable. It is given in the fourth volume of 'Les Papillotes,'
published in 1863, the year before his death, and is entitled, "Note
of my expenses of the journey, which I have deducted from the receipts
during my circuit of fifty days."
On certain occasions nothing whatever was charged, but a carriage
was probably placed at his disposal, or the ticket for a railway or a
diligence may have been paid for by his friends. On many occasions he
walked the distance between the several places, and thus saved the cost
of his conveyance. But every item of expense was set forth in his "Note"
with the most scrupulous exactness.
Here is the translation of Jasmin's record for his journeys during
these fifty days:--"... At Foix, from M. de Groussou, President of
the Communion of Bienfaisance, 33 fr., 50 c. At Pamiers, nil. At
Saint-Girons, from the President of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul,
16 fr. At Lavaur, from M. the Mayor, 22 fr. At Saint-Sulpice, nil. At
Toulouse, where I gave five special seances, of which the two first, to
Saint-Vincent de Paul and the Prefecture, produced more than 1600 fr.,
nil. My muse was sufficiently accounted for; it was during my reception
as Maitre-es-jeux. At Rodez, from the President of the Conference of
Saint-Vincent de Paul, 29 fr. 50c. At Saint-Geniez, nil. At Saint-Flour,
from M. Simon, vicar-general, 22 fr. 50 c. At Murat, nil. At Mauriac,
nil. At Aurillac, from M. Geneste, mayor, for my return to Agen, 24 fr.
Total, 147 fr. 50 centimes."
Thus, more than 20,000 francs were collected for the poor, Jasmin having
deducted 147 fr. 50 c. for the cost of his journeys from place to place.
It must also be remembered that he travelled mostly in winter, when the
ground was covered with snow. In February, 1854, M. Migneret, Prefect
of Haute-garonne, addressed a letter to Jasmin, which is worthy of
preservation. "It is pleasant," he said, "after having enjoyed at night
the charms of your poetry, to begin the next day by taking account of
the misfortunes they relieve. I owe you this double honour, and I thank
you with the greatest gratitude.... As to our admiration of your talent,
it yields to our esteem for your noble heart; the poet cannot be jealous
of the good citizen."{3}
Notwithstanding the rigour of the season, and the snow and wind, the
like of which had not been known for more than twenty years, Jasmin was
welcomed by an immense audience at Rodez. The recitation was given
in the large hall of the Palais de Justice, and never had so large a
collection been made. The young people of the town wished to give Jasmin
a banquet, but he declined, as he had to hurry on to another place for
a similar purpose. He left them, however, one of his poems prepared for
the occasion.
He arrived at Saint-Flour exhausted by fatigue. His voice began to
fail, partly through the rigours of the climate, yet he continued to
persevere. The bishop entertained him in his palace, and introduced him
personally to the audience before which he was to give his recitations.
Over the entrance-door was written the inscription, "A Jasmin, le Poete
des Pauvres, Saint-fleur reconnaissante!" Before Jasmin began to recite
he was serenaded by the audience. The collection was greater than had
ever been known. It was here that the bishop presented Jasmin with that
famous manual, 'The Imitation of Christ,' already referred to.
It was the same at Murat, Mauriac, and Aurillac. The recitation at
Aurillac was given in the theatre, and the receipts were 1200 francs.
Here also he was serenaded. He departed from Aurillac covered with the
poor people's blessings and gratitude.
At Toulouse he gave another entertainment, at the instance of the
Conference of Saint-Francois Xavier. There were about 3000 persons
present, mostly of the working classes. The seance was prolonged
almost to midnight. The audience, most of whom had to rise early in
the morning, forgot their sleep, and wished the poet to prolong his
recitations!
Although the poor machine of Jasmin's body was often in need of rest,
he still went about doing good. He never ceased ministering to the
poor until he was altogether unable to go to their help. Even in the
distressing cold, rain, and wind of winter--and it was in winter more
than in summer that he travelled, for it was then that the poor were
most distressed--he entirely disregarded his own comfort, and sometimes
travelled at much peril; yet he went north and south, by highways and
byways, by rivers and railways, in any and every direction, provided his
services could be of use.
He sacrificed himself always, and was perfectly regardless of self.
He was overwhelmed with honours and praises. He became weary of
triumphs--of laurels, flowers, and medals--he sometimes became weary of
his life; yet he never could refuse any pressing solicitation made to
him for a new recital of his poems.
His trials, especially in winter time, were often most distressing. He
would recite before a crowded audience, in a heated room, and afterwards
face the icy air without, often without any covering for his throat and
neck. Hence his repeated bronchial attacks, the loss of his voice, and
other serious affections of his lungs.
The last meeting which Jasmin attended on behalf of the poor was at
the end of January 1864, only three months before his death. It was
at Villeneuve-sur-Lot, a town several miles north of Agen. He did not
desire to put the people to the expense of a conveyance, and therefore
he decided to walk. He was already prematurely old and stooping.
The disease which ended his life had already made considerable progress.
He should have been in bed; nevertheless, as the poor needed his help,
the brave old man determined to proceed to Villeneuve. He was helped
along the road by some of his friends; and at last, wearied and panting,
he arrived at his destination.
The meeting was held in the theatre, which was crowded to suffocation.
No sooner had Jasmin reached the platform, amidst the usual triumphant
cheering, than, after taking a short rest, he sprang to his feet and
began the recitation of his poems. Never had his voice seemed more
spirited and entrancing. He delighted his audience, while he pleaded
most eloquently for the relief of the poor.
"I see him now," wrote one of his friends, "from behind the side-scenes
of the theatre, perspiring profusely, wet to the skin, with a carafe of
water to allay the ardent thirst occasioned by three hours of splendid
declamation."
In his then critical state, the three hours' declamation was enough to
kill him. At all events, it was his last recitation. It was the song of
the dying swan. In the midst of his triumphs, he laid down his life for
the poor; like the soldier who dies with the sound of victory in his
ears.
Endnotes to Chapter XIX.
{1} 'Jasmin, sa Vie et ses OEuvres.' Paris, 1867.
{2} Le Pays, 14th February, 1854.
{3} 'Las Papillotos de Jasmin,' iv. 56.
CHAPTER XX. DEATH OF JASMIN--HIS CHARACTER.
After his final recitation at Villeneuve, Jasmin, sick, ill, and utterly
exhausted, reached Agen with difficulty. He could scarcely stand. It was
not often that travelling had so affected him; but nature now cried out
and rebelled. His wife was, of course, greatly alarmed. He was at once
carefully put to bed, and there he lay for fifteen days.
When he was at length able to rise, he was placed in his easy chair,
but he was still weak, wearied, and exhausted. Mariette believed that he
would yet recover his strength; but the disease under which he laboured
had taken a strong hold of him, and Jasmin felt that he was gradually
approaching the close of his life.
About this time Renan's 'Life of Jesus' was published. Jasmin was
inexpressibly shocked by the appearance of the book, for it seemed to
him to strike at the foundations of Christianity, and to be entirely
opposed to the teachings of the Church. He immediately began to compose
a poem, entitled The Poet of the People to M. Renan,{1} in which he
vindicated the Catholic faith, and denounced the poisonous mischief
contained in the new attack upon Christianity. The poem was full of
poetic feeling, with many pathetic touches illustrative of the life and
trials of man while here below.
The composition of this poem occupied him for some time. Although broken
by grief and pain, he made every haste to correct the proofs, feeling
that it would probably be the last work that he should give to the
world. And it was his last. It was finished and printed on the 24th of
August, 1864. He sent several copies to his more intimate friends with a
dedication; and then he took finally to his bed, never to rise again.
"I am happy," he said, "to have terminated my career by an act of faith,
and to have consecrated my last work to the name of Jesus Christ." He
felt that it was his passport to eternity.
Jasmin's life was fast drawing to a close. He knew that he must soon
die; yet never a word of fear escaped his lips; nor was his serenity
of mind disturbed. He made his preparations for departure with as much
tranquillity and happiness, as on the days when he was about to start on
one of his philanthropic missions.
He desired that M. Saint-Hilaire, the vicar of the parish, should be
sent for. The priest was at once by the bedside of his dying friend.
Jasmin made his replies to him in a clear and calm voice. His wife, his
son, his grand-children, were present when he received the Viaticum--the
last sacrament of the church. After the ceremony he turned to his wife
and family, and said: "In my last communion I have prayed to God that He
may keep you all in the most affectionate peace and union, and that He
may ever reign in the hearts of those whom I love so much and am
about to leave behind me." Then speaking to his wife, he said, "Now
Mariette,--now I can die peacefully."
He continued to live until the following morning. He conversed
occasionally with his wife, his son, and a few attached friends.
He talked, though with difficulty, of the future of the family, for whom
he had made provision. At last, lifting himself up by the aid of his
son, he looked towards his wife. The brightness of love glowed in his
eyes; but in a moment he fell back senseless upon the pillow, and his
spirit quietly passed away.
Jasmin departed this life on the 5th of October, 1864, at the age of
sixty-five. He was not an old man; but the brightest jewels soonest wear
their setting. When laid in his coffin, the poem to Renan, his last act
of faith, was placed on his breast, with his hands crossed over it.
The grief felt at his death was wide and universal. In the South of
France he was lamented as a personal friend; and he was followed to the
grave by an immense number of his townspeople.
The municipal administration took charge of the funeral. At ten o'clock
in the morning of the 8th October the procession started from Jasmin's
house on the Promenade du Gravier. On the coffin were placed the Crown
of Gold presented to him by his fellow-townsmen, the cross of Chevalier
of the Legion of Honour, and that of Saint-Gregory the Great. A company
of five men, and a detachment of troops commanded by an officer, formed
the line.
The following gentlemen held the cords of the funeral pall:--
M. Feart, Prefect of the Lot-et-Garonne; M. Henri Noubel, Deputy and
Mayor of Agen; General Ressayre, Commander of the Military Division; M.
Bouet, President of the Imperial Court; M. de Laffore, engineer; and M.
Magen, Secretary of the Society of Agriculture, Sciences, and Arts.
A second funeral pall was held by six coiffeurs of the corporation to
which Jasmin had belonged. Behind the hearse were the Brothers of the
Christian Doctrine, the Sisters of Saint-Vincent de Paul, and the Little
Sisters of the Poor.
The mourners were headed by the poet's son and the other members of
his family. The cortege was very numerous, including the elite of
the population. Among them were the Procureur-General, the
Procureur-imperial, the Engineer-in-chief of the Department, the
Director of Taxes, many Councillors-General, all the members of the
Society of Agriculture, many officers of the army, many ecclesiastics
as well as ministers of the reformed worship. Indeed, representatives of
nearly the whole population were present.
The procession first entered the church of Saint Hilaire, where the
clergy of the four parishes had assembled. High mass was performed by
the full choir. The Miserere of Beethoven was given, and some exquisite
pieces from Mozart. Deep emotion was produced by the introduction, in
the midst of this beautiful music, of some popular airs from the romance
of Franconnette and Me Cal Mouri, Jasmin's first work. The entire
ceremony was touching, and moved many to tears.
After the service had been finished, the procession moved off to the
cemetery--passing through the principal streets of the town, which were
lined by crowds of mournful spectators. Large numbers of people had also
assembled at the cemetery. After the final prayer, M. Noubel, Deputy and
Mayor of Agen, took the opportunity of pronouncing a eulogium over the
grave of the deceased. His speech was most sympathetic and touching. We
can only give a few extracts from his address:
"Dear and great poet," he said, "at the moment when we commit to the
earth thy mortal remains, I wish, in the name of this town of Agen,
where thou wert born and which thou hast truly loved, to address to thee
a last, a supreme adieu. Alas! What would'st thou have said to me some
years ago, when I placed upon thy forehead the crown--decreed by the
love and admiration of thy compatriots--that I should so soon have been
called upon to fulfil a duty that now rends my heart. The bright genius
of thy countenance, the brilliant vigour in thine eyes, which time,
it seemed, would never tarnish, indicated the fertile source of thy
beautiful verses and noble aspirations!
"And yet thy days had been numbered, and you yourself seemed to have
cherished this presentiment; but, faithful to thy double mission of poet
and apostle of benevolence, thou redoubled thy efforts to enrich with
new epics thy sheaf of poetry, and by thy bountiful gifts and charity to
allay the sorrows of the poor. Indefatigable worker! Thou hast dispensed
most unselfishly thy genius and thy powers! Death alone has been able to
compel thee to repose!
"But now our friend is departed for ever! That poetical fire, that
brilliant and vivid intelligence, that ardent heart, have now ceased
to strive for the good of all; for this great and generous soul has
ascended to Him who gave it birth. It has returned to the Giver of Good,
accompanied by our sorrows and our tears. It has ascended to heaven
with the benedictions of all the distressed and unfortunate whom he
has succoured. It is our hope and consolation that he may find the
recompense assured for those who have usefully and boldly fulfilled
their duty here below.
"This duty, O poet, thou hast well fulfilled. Those faculties, which God
had so largely bestowed upon thee, have never been employed save for the
service of just and holy causes. Child of the people, thou hast shown us
how mind and heart enlarge with work; that the sufferings and privations
of thy youth enabled thee to retain thy love of the poor and thy pity
for the distressed. Thy muse, sincerely Christian, was never used to
inflame the passions, but always to instruct, to soothe, and to console.
Thy last song, the Song of the Swan, was an eloquent and impassioned
protest of the Christian, attacked in his fervent belief and his faith.
"God has doubtless marked the term of thy mission; and thy death was
not a matter of surprise. Thou hast come and gone, without fear; and
religion, thy supreme consoler, has calmed the sufferings of thy later
hours, as it had cradled thee in thy earlier years.
"Thy body will disappear, but thy spirit, Jasmin, will never be far from
us. Inspire us with thy innocent gaiety and brotherly love. The town
of Agen is never ungrateful; she counts thee amongst the most pure and
illustrious of her citizens. She will consecrate thy memory in the way
most dignified to thee and to herself.
"The inhabitants of towns without number, where thou hast exercised
thy apostolate of charity, will associate themselves with this work of
affection and remembrance. But the most imperishable monument is that
which thou hast thyself founded with thine own head and hands, and which
will live in our hearts--the creations of thy genius and the memory of
thy philanthropy."
After the Mayor of Agen had taken leave of the mortal remains of the
poet, M. Capot, President of the Society of Agriculture, Sciences,
and Arts, gave another eloquent address. He was followed by M. Magen,
Secretary to the same society. The troops fired a salute over the grave,
and took leave of the poet's remains with military honours. The immense
crowd of mourners then slowly departed from the cemetery.
Another public meeting took place on the 12th of May, 1870, on the
inauguration of the bronze statue of Jasmin in the Place Saint
Antoine, now called the Place Jasmin. The statue was erected by public
subscription, and executed by the celebrated M. Vital Dubray. It stands
nearly opposite the house where Jasmin lived and carried on his trade.
Many of his old friends came from a considerable distance to be present
at the inauguration of the statue. The Abbe Masson of Vergt was there,
whose church Jasmin had helped to re-build. M. l'Abbe Donis, curate of
Saint-Louis at Bordeaux, whom he had often helped with his recitations;
the able philologist Azais; the young and illustrious Provencal poet
Mistral; and many representatives of the Parisian and Southern press,
were present on the occasion. The widow and son of the poet, surrounded
by their family, were on the platform. When the statue was unveiled,
a salvo of artillery was fired; then the choir of the Brothers of the
Communal Christian School saluted the "glorious resurrection of Jasmin"
with their magnificent music, which was followed by enthusiastic cheers.
M. Henri Noubel, Deputy and Mayor of Agen, made an eloquent speech on
the unveiling of the statue. He had already pronounced his eulogium of
Jasmin at the burial of the poet, but he was still full of the subject,
and brought to mind many charming recollections of the sweetness of
disposition and energetic labours of Jasmin on behalf of the poor and
afflicted. He again expressed his heartfelt regret for the departure of
the poet.
M. Noubel was followed by M. l'Abbe Donis, of Bordeaux, who achieved a
great success by his eulogy of the life of Jasmin, whom he entitled "The
Saint-vincent de Paul of poetry."
He was followed by the Abbe Capot, in the name of the clergy, and by M.
Magen, in the name of the Society of Agriculture, Sciences, and Arts.
They were followed by MM. Azais and Pozzi, who recited some choice
pieces of poetry in the Gascon patois. M. Mistral came last--the
celebrated singer of "Mireio"--who, with his faltering voice, recited
a beautiful piece of poetry composed for the occasion, which was
enthusiastically applauded.
The day was wound up with a banquet in honour of M. Dubray, the artist
who had executed the bronze statue. The Place Jasmin was brilliantly
illuminated during the evening, where an immense crowd assembled to view
the statue of the poet, whose face and attitude appeared in splendid
relief amidst a blaze of light.
It is unnecessary further to describe the character of Jasmin. It is
sufficiently shown by his life and labours--his genius and philanthropy.
In the recollections of his infancy and boyhood, he truthfully describes
the pleasures and sorrows of his youth--his love for his mother, his
affection for his grandfather, who died in the hospital, "where all the
Jasmins die." He did not even conceal the little tricks played by him in
the Academy, from which he was expelled, nor the various troubles of his
apprenticeship.
This was one of the virtues of Jasmin--his love of truth. He never
pretended to be other than what he was. He was even proud of being a
barber, with his "hand of velvet." He was pleased to be entertained by
the coiffeurs of Agen, Paris, Bordeaux, and Toulouse. He was a man of
the people, and believed in the dignity of labour. At the same time, but
for his perseverance and force of character, he never could have raised
himself to the honour and power of the true poet.
He was born poor, and the feeling of inherited poverty adhered to him
through life, and inspired him with profound love for the poor and the
afflicted of his class. He was always ready to help them, whether they
lived near to him or far from him. He was, in truth, "The Saint-Vincent
de Paul of poetry." His statue, said M. Noubel, pointing up to it,
represented the glorification of genius and virtue, the conquest of
ignorance and misery.
M. Deydou said at Bordeaux, when delivering an address upon the genius
of Jasmin--his Eminence Cardinal Donnet presiding--that poetry, when
devoted to the cause of charity, according to the poet himself, was "the
glory of the earth and the perfume of heaven."
Jasmin loved his dear town of Agen, and was proud of it. After his visit
to the metropolis, he said, "If Paris makes me proud, Agen makes
me happy." "This town," he said, on another occasion, "has been my
birthplace; soon it shall be my grave." He loved his country too, and
above all he loved his native language. It was his mother-tongue; and
though he was often expostulated with for using it, he never forsook the
Gascon. It was the language of the home, of the fireside, of the fields,
of the workshop, of the people amongst whom he lived, and he resolved
ever to cherish and elevate the Gascon dialect.
"Popular and purely natural poetry," said Montaigne in the 16th century,
"has a simplicity and gracefulness which surpass the beauty of poetry
according to art." Jasmin united the naive artlessness of poetry with
the perfection of art. He retained the simplicity of youth throughout
his career, and his domestic life was the sanctuary of all the virtues.
In his poems he vividly described filial love, conjugal tenderness,
and paternal affection, because no one felt these graces of life more
fervently than himself. He was like the Italian painter, who never went
beyond his home for a beautiful model.
Victor Hugo says that a great man is like the sun--most beautiful when
he touches the earth, at his rising and at his setting. Jasmin's rising
was in the depths of honest poverty, but his setting was glorious. God
crowned his fine life by a special act of favour; for the last song of
the poet was his "act of faith"--his address to Renan.
Jasmin was loyal, single-minded, self-reliant, patient, temperate, and
utterly unselfish. He made all manner of sacrifices during his efforts
in the cause of charity. Nothing was allowed to stand in the way of his
missions on behalf of the poor. In his journey of fifty days in 1854,
he went from Orthez--the country of Gaston Phoebus--to the mountains of
Auvergne, in spite of the rigours of the weather. During that journey he
collected 20,000 francs. In all, as we have said, he collected, during
his life-time, more than a million and a half of francs, all of which he
devoted to the cause of philanthropy.
Two words were engraved on the pedestal of his statue, Poetry and
Charity! Charity was the object and purpose of his heroic programme.
Yet, in his poetry he always exhibited his tender-hearted gaiety. Even
when he weeps, you see the ray of sunlight in his tears. Though simple
as a child in ordinary life, he displayed in his writings the pathos and
satire of the ancient Troubadours, with no small part of the shrewdness
and wit attributed to persons of his calling.
Although esteemed and praised by all ranks and classes of people--by
king, emperor, princes, and princesses; by cardinals and bishops;
by generals, magistrates, literary men, and politicians--though the
working people almost worshipped him, and village girls strewed flowers
along his pathway--though the artisan quitted his workshop, and the
working woman her washing-tub, to listen to his marvellous recitations,
yet Jasmin never lost his head or was carried away by the enthusiastic
cheers which accompanied his efforts, but remained simple and unaffected
to the last.
Another characteristic of him was, that he never forsook his friends,
however poor. His happiest moments were those in which he encountered
a companion of his early youth. Many still survived who had accompanied
him while making up his bundle of fagots on the islands of the Garonne.
He was delighted to shake hands with them, and to help, when necessary,
these playmates of his boyhood.
He would also meet with pleasure the working women of his acquaintance,
those who had related to him the stories of Loup Garou and the
traditions of the neighbourhood, and encouraged the boy from his
earliest youth. Then, at a later period of his life, nothing could have
been more worthy of him than his affection for his old benefactor, M.
Baze, and his pleading with Napoleon III., through the Empress, for his
return to France "through the great gate of honour!"
Had Jasmin a fault? Yes, he had many, for no one exists within the
limits of perfection. But he had one in especial, which he himself
confessed. He was vain and loved applause, nor did he conceal his love.
When at Toulouse, he said to some of his friends, "I love to be
applauded: it is my whim; and I think it would be difficult for a poet
to free himself from the excitement of applause." When at Paris, he
said, "Applaud! applaud! The cheers you raise will be heard at Agen."
Who would not overlook a fault, if fault it be, which is confessed in so
naive a manner?
When complimented about reviving the traditions of the Troubadours,
Jasmin replied, "The Troubadours, indeed! Why, I am a better poet than
any of the Troubadours! Not one of them could have composed a long poem
of sustained interest, like my Franconnette."
Any fault or weakness which Jasmin exhibited was effaced by the good
wishes and prayers of thousands of the poor and afflicted whom he had
relieved by his charity and benevolence. The reality of his life
almost touches the ideal. Indeed, it was a long apostolate.
Cardinal Donnet, Archbishop of Bordeaux, said of him, that "he was
gifted with a rich nature, a loyal and unreserved character, and
a genius as fertile as the soil of his native country. The lyre of
Jasmin," he said, "had three chords, which summed up the harmonies of
heaven and earth--the true, the useful, and the beautiful."
Did not the members of the French Academy--the highest literary
institution in the world--strike a gold medal in his honour, with the
inscription, "La medaille du poete moral et populaire"? M. Sainte-Beuve,
the most distinguished of French critics, used a much stronger
expression. He said, "If France had ten poets like Jasmin--ten poets
of the same power and influence--she need no longer have any fear of
revolutions."
Genius is as nothing in the sight of God; but "whosoever shall give
a cup of water to drink in the name of Christ, because they belong
to Christ, shall not lose his reward." M. Tron, Deputy and Mayor of
Bagnere-du-luchon, enlarged upon this text in his eulogy of Jasmin.
"He was a man," he said, "as rich in his heart as in his genius. He
carried out that life of 'going about doing good' which Christ rehearsed
for our instruction. He fed the hungry, clothed the naked, succoured
the distressed, and consoled and sympathised with the afflicted. Few men
have accomplished more than he has done. His existence was unique, not
only in the history of poets, but of philanthropists."
A life so full of good could only end with a Christian death. He
departed with a lively faith and serene piety, crowning by a peaceful
death one of the strangest and most diversified careers in the
nineteenth century. "Poetry and Charity," inscribed on the pedestal of
his statue in Agen, fairly sums up his noble life and character.
Endnotes for Chapter XX.
{1} 'Lou Poeto del Puple a Moussu Renan.'
APPENDIX.
JASMIN'S DEFENCE OF THE GASCON DIALECT.
To M. SYLVAIN DUMON, Deputy-Minister, who has condemned to death our
native language.
There's not a deeper grief to man
Than when our mother, faint with years,
Decrepit, old, and weak, and wan,
Beyond the leech's art appears;
When by her couch her son may stay,
And press her hand, and watch her eyes,
And feel, though she survives to-day,
Perchance his hope to-morrow dies.
It is not thus, believe me, Sir,
With this enchantress, we will call
Our second mother. Frenchmen err,
Who cent'ries since proclaimed her fall!
Our mother tongue, all melody,
While music lives, shall never die.
Yes! still she lives, her words still ring,
Her children yet her carols sing;
And thousand years may roll away
Before her magic notes decay.
The people love their ancient songs, and will
While yet a people, love and keep them still.
These lays are like their mother--they recall
Fond thoughts of brother, sister, friends, and all
The many little things that please the heart--
Those dreams and hopes, from which we cannot part;
These songs are as sweet waters, where we find
Health in the sparkling wave that nerves the mind.
In every home, at every cottage door,
By every fireside, when our toil is o'er,
These songs are round us, near our cradles sigh,
And to the grave attend us when we die.
Oh! think, cold critic! 'twill be late and long
Ere time shall sweep away this flood of song!
There are who bid this music sound no more,
And you can hear them, nor defend--deplore!
You, who were born where the first daisies grew,
Have 'fed upon its honey, sipp'd its dew,
Slept in its arms, and wakened to its kiss,
Danced to its sounds, and warbled to its tone--
You can forsake it in an hour like this!
Weary of age, you may renounce, disown,
And blame one minstrel who is true--alone!
For me, truth to my eyes made all things plain;
At Paris, the great fount, I did not find
The waters pure, and to my stream again
I come, with saddened and with sobered mind;
And now the spell is broken, and I rate
The little country far above the great.
For you, who seem her sorrows to deplore,
You, seated high in power, the first among,
Beware! nor make her cause of grief the more;
Believe her mis'ry, nor condemn her tongue.
Methinks you injure where you seek to heal,
If you deprive her of that only weal.
We love, alas! to sing in our distress;
For so the bitterness of woe seems less;
But if we may not in our language mourn,
What will the polish'd give us in return?
Fine sentences, but all for us unmeet--
Words full of grace, even such as courtiers greet:
A deck'd out miss, too delicate and nice
To walk in fields; too tender and precise
To sing the chorus of the poor, or come
When Labour lays him down fatigued at home.
To cover rags with gilded robes were vain--
The rents of poverty would show too plain.
How would this dainty dame, with haughty brow,
Shrink at a load, and shudder at a plough!
Sulky, and piqued, and silent would she stand
As the tired peasant urged his team along:
No word of kind encouragement at hand,
For flocks no welcome, and for herds no song!
Yet we will learn, and you shall teach--
Our people shall have double speech:
One to be homely, one polite,
As you have robes for different wear;
But this is all:--'tis just and right,
And more our children will not bear,
Lest flocks of buzzards flit along,
Where nightingales once poured their song.
There may be some who, vain and proud,
May ape the manners of the crowd,
Lisp French, and maim it at each word,
And jest and gibe to all afford;
But we, as in long ages past,
Will still be poets to the last!{1}
Hark! and list the bridal song,
As they lead the bride along:
"Hear, gentle bride! your mother's sighs,
And you would hence away!
Weep, weep, for tears become those eyes."
----"I cannot weep--to-day."
Hark! the farmer in the mead
Bids the shepherd swain take heed:
"Come, your lambs together fold,
Haste, my sons! your toil is o'er:
For the setting sun has told
That the ox should work no more."
Hark! the cooper in the shade
Sings to the sound his hammer made:
"Strike, comrades, strike! prepare the cask.
'Tis lusty May that fills the flask:
Strike, comrades! summer suns that shine
Fill the cellars full of wine."
Verse is, with us, a charm divine,
Our people, loving verse, will still,
Unknowing of their art, entwine
Garlands of poesy at will.
Their simple language suits them best:
Then let them keep it and be blest.
Let the wise critics build a wall
Between the nurse's cherished voice,
And the fond ear her words enthral,
And say their idol is her choice.
Yes!--let our fingers feel the rule,
The angry chiding of the school;
True to our nurse, in good or ill,
We are not French, but Gascon still.
'Tis said that age new feeling brings,
Our youth returns as we grow old;
And that we love again the things
Which in our memory had grown cold.
If this be true, the time will come
When to our ancient tongue, once more,
You will return, as to a home,
And thank us that we kept the store.
Remember thou the tale they tell
Of Lacuee and Lacepede,{2}
When age crept on, who loved to dwell
On words that once their music made;
And, in the midst of grandeur, hung,
Delighted, on their parent tongue.
This will you do: and it may be,
When weary of the world's deceit,
Some summer-day we yet may see
Your coming in our meadows sweet;
Where, midst the flowers, the finch's lay
Shall welcome you with music gay;
While you shall bid our antique tongue
Some word devise, or air supply,
Like those that charm'd your youth so long,
And lent a spell to memory.
Bethink you how we stray'd alone
Beneath those elms in Agen grown,
That each an arch above us throws,
Like giants, hand-in-hand, in rows.
A storm once struck a fav'rite tree,
It trembled, shook, and bent its boughs,--
The vista is no longer free:
Our governor no pause allows;
"Bring hither hatchet, axe, and spade,
The tree must straight be prostrate laid!"
But vainly strength and art were tried,
The stately tree all force defied;
Well might the elm resist and foil their might,
For though his branches were decay'd to sight,
As many as his leaves the roots spread round,
And in the firm set earth they slept profound.
Since then, more full, more green, more gay,
The crests amid the breezes play:
And birds of every note and hue
Come trooping to his shade in Spring;
Each summer they their lays renew,
And while the years endure they sing.
And thus it is, believe me, sir,
With this enchantress--she we call
Our second mother; Frenchmen err
Who, cent'ries since, proclaimed her fall.
No! she still lives, her words still ring,
Her children yet her carols sing;
And thousand years may roll away
Before her magic notes decay.
September 2nd, 1837.
Endnotes to JASMIN'S DEFENCE OF THE GASCON DIALECT.
{1} Jasmin here quotes several patois songs, well known in the country.
{2} Both Gascons.
THE MASON'S SON.{1}
{LA SEMMANO D'UN FIL.}
Riches, n'oubliez pas un seul petit moment
Que des pauvres la grande couvee
Se reveille toujours le sourire a la bouche
Quand elle s'endort sans avoir faire!
(Riche et Pauvre.)
The swallows fly about, although the air is cold,
Our once fair sun has shed his brightest gold.
The fields decay
On All-saints day.
Ground's hard afoot,
The birds are mute;
The tree-tops shed their chill'd and yellow leaves,
They dying fall, and whirl about in sheaves.
One night, when leaving late a neighb'ring town,
Although the heavens were clear,
Two children paced along, with many a moan--
Brother and sister dear;
And when they reached the wayside cross
Upon their knees they fell, quite close.
Abel and Jane, by the moon's light,
Were long time silent quite;
As they before the altar bend,
With one accord their voices sweet ascend.
"Mother of God, Virgin compassionate!
Oh! send thy angel to abate
The sickness of our father dear,
That mother may no longer fear--
And for us both! Oh! Blessed Mother,
We love thee, more and more, we two together!"
The Virgin doubtless heard their prayer,
For, when they reached the cottage near,
The door before them opened wide,
And the dear mother, ere she turned aside,
Cried out: "My children brave,
The fever's gone--your father's life is safe!
Now come, my little lambs, and thank God for His grace."
In their small cot, forthwith the three,
To God in prayer did bend the knee,
Mother and children in their gladness weeping,
While on a sorry bed a man lay sleeping--
It was the father, good Hilaire!
Not long ago, a soldier brave,
But now--a working mason's slave.
