Jacquou Le Croquant

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1815, a terrible year.

Waterloo cut short

the adventure of Napoleon.

In Paris,

Louis 18th took the throne.

The nobles

who had fled the Revolution

returned in triumph

to a broken France.

I was a soldier

in those dark, arrogant days

that brought hardship to all.

As a physician,

I saw all kinds of suffering

and many kinds of courage

but I met no finer,

more upstanding man

than a simple peasant boy,

a poor, low-bred "croquant".

I know he would not want my praise

but how can I, an old man,

tell a boy that I admire him?

Maybe simply by telling his story.

Gawd, what a start!

Round up the dogs!

Sir!

Round them up

or we'll lose the stag!

Calm down, Mr. Prosecutor.

I know that dog.

It's a poacher's cur.

It deserves to be shot like a wolf.

They've lost the stag.

So they'll hunt a man.

Again! Come on!

Come on, hit!

Legs! Hands together!

Good, Jacquou!

Watch your legs.

Look up. Be bold!

And keep hitting!

Look who's here!

My dog!

Come here, boy!

Good dog.

He must have escaped.

His paws are bleeding.

Rub fat on them.

How did you get here?

Dirty dog! Keep off my apron.

Come here!

The dog has to go.

He'll only bring us trouble

from the steward.

The trouble is, it's you he wants.

Always poking his mustache in here.

I can handle a mustache.

I'm afraid for you.

I'm an innocent, free man.

You should cut those braids.

Good dog.

Mama?

It's only skin deep.

All you need is a bandage.

Keep watch outside.

You see anything, don't shout.

Marti, you have to go.

Hide in the forest.

I'm not leaving you.

Those swine shot you.

I'll cope.

They'll make you pay.

The boy will pay too if you stay.

Papa, wait for me!

Stay here. You'll get in my way.

Be brave. Take care of yourself

and your mother.

Stop him!

Shoot him!

Cretins!

Beat it!

Mr. Prosecutor.

What's all this?

Let's see.

An edifying sight!

No venison, just dog food.

They lost the stag but killed a pig!

What a dirty boy!

Don't you want my flower?

What black eyes he has!

Tasteless little runt.

Let me see my mother!

Shove off!

It's the son.

Sir Count, it seems

your steward botched the job.

Shot the dog, hit the wife.

Husband killed him.

A fatal brawl of oafs.

Dolt!

The killer is one of your tenants.

If he acted from jealousy,

that would make it murder

in the first degree.

The victim was a known philanderer.

The old goat! Can you imagine?

Since we're on your land,

which charge should I pursue?

Father, there's the horn.

They've found the stag again

and I'm hungry.

He had these hidden.

A Legion medal and...

a colonel's commission.

Read the date and place.

June 18th, 1815.

I'll be damned! Two months ago!

He was commissioned

on the field of Waterloo

by Napoleon...

I mean

the usurper Bonaparte himself.

Take him to the castle.

Thank you

for solving the case so fast.

Enough time wasted. To horse!

So it was jealousy? We'll catch him!

I'll see to it.

Let's not detain

your lovely daughters any longer.

After you, ladies.

They'll arrest Papa.

Have faith.

They haven't caught him yet.

Your father has many friends

and God will protect him.

Lie down.

Lie still. Leave everything to me.

Don't worry.

My heartbeat's just a little fast.

Lie still.

You're right. He's safe.

He knows the forest inside out.

I'll bring him some ammunition.

Nothing can happen to him.

Oh, it's you.

For your dad.

But it's the last time.

Stay away. Times are hard.

Watch out in the village.

Voltaire!

Rousseau!

Philosophers!

See how the perverted poison

of valueless ideas

spawned the Revolution!

Their venom

still infects us

through books!

The kingdom must be cleansed

of sickly theories

and usurpers!

May God help us protect the children

from evil influences.

France must be won back!

Go, each one of you

and bring the word of God

into your homes!

Kneel, devil's soldier!

His rebel ilk burned down my castle.

Thirty lashes.

You! Come here.

Wanna buy some drawers?

Feel 'em!

For your mother or sweetheart.

- I have no money.

- Got any grub?

- What's in there?

- Hands off!

It's goat dung, to make a potion

against hunger.

Gawd help us!

What's going on? Who are they?

Jesuits and Ultra-royalists.

They smell bad but hit hard.

C'mon, let's drown our sorrows.

There's free hot wine.

- What's your name?

- Jacquou.

They call me Cockeye.

You look beautiful.

I need to look persuasive.

The Count has the power

to call off the police

and the judge will be lenient.

Hurry up.

Hurry up!

Coming.

Don't be scared.

Sir Count!

I beg your mercy

on this Christmas day.

My husband has been

on the run for months.

I know her.

She's the farmer's wife.

Her husband murdered your steward.

She has plenty of cheek. And breast!

My husband shot your steward

in self-defense.

I'm only a peasant

but my word is true.

This is not the time or place.

It's a police matter.

There's a reward

for catching this...

Barti? Varmi?

- I know how to talk to...

- I know how to listen.

Let's share her.

You are disturbing my friends

and even my family

but it's too late now

to come begging for favors.

All I want is justice

and a fair trial...

Quiet!

Stand up.

Don't try

to mollify or bargain with me.

- What's the reward?

- 20 gold louis.

Double it.

No, make it 100.

The price of 100 cows!

Satisfied, Madam?

Now justice will be done

even sooner, thanks to you.

Quiet! Or the reward

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