A solitary figure stalked down a bleak hill in Poland. He was an old man, his face gentle and sad.

His footsteps left in the soil imprints of a cross made by the several large nails in his shoes. He
was hurrying, for he had to be in Paris on the thirteenth of February, 1832, when the surviving
descendants of his sister would gather in that city—the last members of that family over which
he had watched for eighteen centuries. The lonely traveler was the Wandering Jew, that artisan
of Jerusalem who mocked Christ on the day of the Crucifixion, the sinner condemned to wander
undying through the centuries over all the world. Far in the wilds of America a woman also
turned toward Paris, driven by that same power that guided the Wandering Jew. She was
Herodias, who had demanded the head of John the Baptist on a charger, also condemned to live
through the centuries of sorrow.

François Baudoin, called Dagobert, a faithful friend of Marshal Simon and an old Bonapartist
hero, never faltered in his loyalty toward the Simon family. Years before, he had followed the
marshal’s Polish wife into Siberia, where she was exiled, and after her death he set out with her
twin daughters, Blanche and Rose, for Paris, where, on a certain day in February, 1832, a legacy
awaited the two girls. This was the legacy of Marius de Rennepont, an ancestor who, despoiled
by the Jesuits, had salvaged out of his ruined estate a house and a small sum of money. He had
placed the money in the hands of a faithful Jewish friend named Samuel, who had promised to
invest it profitably. A hundred and fifty years later the descendants of this ancestor were to
gather at a house where each was to receive a share of the legacy. Blanche and Rose Simon were
only half-aware of the fortune awaiting them, for they were too young to understand what
Dagobert told them about their inheritance.

If these heirs of Marius de Rennepont did not know of the legacy, others nevertheless did. For
many years the Jesuits, masters of an intricate and diabolical conspiracy, had plotted to prevent
the descendants from acquiring the money. They were responsible for Marshal Simon’s exile and
for his wife’s banishment to Siberia.

The plotters had been so meticulous and so thorough in their scheming that they had persuaded
young Gabriel de Rennepont to become a priest and a member of the Society of Jesus. Through
Gabriel they hoped to acquire the tremendous fortune; for by preventing the other heirs from
reaching Paris—and the society had agents all over the world who would do its bidding under
any conditions—Gabriel would inherit the legacy. Then, since he was forbidden by his vow of
poverty to possess money, the funds would revert to the society. With that money the Jesuits
would be able to reestablish their supremacy over the French people and would be able once
more to govern countries and guide the destiny of Europe.

As soon as Dagobert and the two girls arrived in Paris, the Jesuits arranged to have them spirited
away to a convent. Adrienne de Cardoville, another descendant of the de Rennepont family, was
declared insane and committed to an asylum. Jacques de Rennepont, a good-hearted sensualist
named Couche-tout-Nud, was jailed for debt. Prince Djalma, who had left India despite the
efforts of the Jesuits, was drugged. François Hardy, a benevolent manufacturer, was sent out of
town through the treachery of a friend who was a Jesuit spy.

As a result of that Jesuit conspiracy, on that fateful day in February, 1832, only the priest,
Gabriel de Rennepont, went to claim the legacy at the house of an old Jew known as Samuel.
With Gabriel were Monsieur l’Abbe d’Aigrigny, Provincial of the Jesuits, and Rodin, his
secretary. Before the reading of the will, Gabriel was persuaded to sign a paper in which he
renounced all claims to the legacy. When the bequest was announced, the Jesuits were astounded
at the incredible sum of the inheritance, which had grown from 150,000 francs to a fortune of
212,175,000 francs. Just as the money was being handed over to the priests, however, a strange
woman appeared and produced a codicil to the will, a document suspending its execution for
three months. The woman was Herodias, but none then called her by that name. The priests were
enraged, and they feared that their conspiracy would be exposed. Adrienne de Cardoville was
certain to be released from the asylum. General Simon was reported to be on his way back to
France to claim his daughters. Couche-tout-Nud would borrow money from his friends to pay his
debts. Prince Djalma would soon awaken. François Hardy would return to Paris from his fruitless
errand.

Rodin immediately produced a paper that placed him in complete charge of the Jesuit cabal. He
proclaimed that they had not lost, that they could and would win by employing psychological
methods instead of violence. He would let each heir destroy him or herself by his or her own
desires, passions, or vices.

During the following three months, Rodin pretended that he had left the service of the Abbe
d’Aigrigny and passed himself off as a friend of the de Rennepont heirs. He secured the release
of the Simon girls and Adrienne, and by those acts he became known as a good, unselfish man.
Shortly before her death, one of Adrienne’s servants confessed that she had been blackmailed
into spying for the Jesuits, and she revealed the whole sordid, brutal, unprincipled conspiracy.
Rodin, however, was not yet willing to accept defeat. At his direction, François Hardy’s factory
was burned to the ground, his best friend’s treachery was revealed, and his beautiful young
mistress was spirited away. A broken man, Hardy was taken to a Jesuit retreat, where he
accepted the doctrines of the order and died as the result of the penances and fasts imposed upon
him. Couche-tout-Nud, separated from his mistress, died a miserable death after an orgy that was
arranged by another Jesuit agent. The Simon girls were taken to a hospital during a cholera
epidemic and died there of the disease. Prince Djalma, led to believe that Adrienne had become
the mistress of Agricola Baudoin, Dagobert’s son, attacked Agricola and killed a girl whom he
mistook for Adrienne. He discovered his error too late, for in his remorse he had already
swallowed poison. Adrienne chose to die with him.

When the time came for the final disposition of the de Rennepont legacy, Gabriel was the only
survivor. Just as Rodin was about to claim the inheritance in the name of his churchly office, the
casket containing the money and securities burst into flames and the fortune was lost forever. A
moment later Rodin fell to the floor and writhed in agony. As he had left a church, shortly before
claiming the legacy, he had taken holy water from the fingers of an Indian who had accompanied
Prince Djalma from India and who had become a lay member of the Jesuits. Too late, Rodin
realized that he had been poisoned in some manner by the Indian. He died a few minutes later.

Gabriel de Rennepont, shocked when he realized the crimes of greed and lust for power that the
lost fortune had caused, retired to live out the rest of his brief life with his friends, the Baudoin
family. After Gabriel’s body had been laid in the de Rennepont tomb, old Samuel went to a
secret spot where a great cross was set upon a lonely hill. There Herodias found him. In the
dawn’s light each saw upon the face of the other the marks that age had put upon them, but they
had found peace and happiness at last. Samuel—for he was the Wandering Jew—gave praise that
their long punishment was ended, and Herodias echoed his words.

Critical Evaluation:
The Wandering Jew is an enormous novel. It touches several continents, the worlds of religion,
economics, the supernatural, politics, medicine, and social protest. There are hundreds of
characters on this vast stage and dozens of plots, subplots, and plots within subplots. The novel is
in that tradition of French literary Romanticism, which mixes the supernatural with politics and
social commentary. Yet its vast scale, reminiscent of Les Miserables (1862), also is re-mindful of
the large social tapestry of eighteenth century novels. Further, Eugène Sue loves melodrama. He
attempts, at every juncture, to induce the extremes of horror, anticipation, and suspense in his
readers through a variety of well-tested literary techniques. The novel is also of interest for the
study of genre: It is a precursor of the mystery-detective novel, as well as being an example of
the Romantic novel.

It must be said that The Wandering Jew is not a successful novel. In terms of theme, action,
character, and style, it must be classified as one of those magnificent, towering failures. Central
to the novel’s difficulties is Sue’s inability to connect and unify the vast and complicated action
of the work. The intrigues and schemes of the Jesuits and the problem of the legacy, although
convenient, simply cannot sustain the ambitious weight of this novel. The world of The
Wandering Jew is overflowing, without sufficient discipline imposed on the material. Indeed,
Sue’s Romanticism carries him quite far away from the discipline of some sort of unity, be it of
place, of time, or of structure.

In War and Peace (1865-1869), another very large novel, the scope is also enormous and the
characters and motives are extremely various, but Leo Tolstoy has a firm grasp of his war and
peace theme and the processes of history. At the same time, he is able to offer the most vivid and
accurate psychological and moral descriptions. The thematic content of The Wandering Jew is
clouded by Romanticism and idealization; and, in addition to superficial and melodramatic
characterizations, Sue offers large doses of the supernatural and mysticism. Weaknesses of
characterization, action, and theme are, naturally, reinforced and magnified as the scope of the
work increases. Sue’s attempt itself, however, is impressive, and there are frequent artistically
valid and touching individual scenes. The novel retains its place in the canon of Western
literature by virtue of its great accomplishments in the areas of exploration of genre (the
mystery-detective novel, the Romantic novel) and engrossing plot.

Bibliography:
Day, James T. “Eugène Sue.” In Nineteenth Century French Fiction Writers: Romanticism and
Realism, 1800-1860. Detroit: Gale Research, 1992. Basic facts about Sue’s life and works. A
good place to begin research.
Murch, Alma Elizabeth. The Development of the Detective Novel. New York: Philosophical
Library, 1958. Historical context for considering The Wandering Jew as an early detective novel.