Read Bouvard and Pécuchet: A Tragi-comic Novel of Bourgeois Life, part 1 Page 6


  CHAPTER VI.

  REVOLT OF THE PEOPLE.

  On the morning of the 25th of February, 1848, the news was brought toChavignolles, by a person who had come from Falaise, that Paris wascovered with barricades, and the next day the proclamation of theRepublic was posted up outside the mayor's office.

  This great event astonished the inhabitants.

  But when they learned that the Court of Cassation, the Court of Appeal,the Court of Exchequer, the Chamber of Notaries, the order of advocates,the Council of State, the University, the generals, and M. de laRoche-Jacquelein himself had given promise of their adherence to theprovisional government, their breasts began to expand; and, as trees ofliberty were planted at Paris, the municipal council decided that theyought to have them at Chavignolles.

  Bouvard made an offer of one, his patriotism exulting in the triumph ofthe people; as for Pecuchet, the fall of royalty confirmed hisanticipations so exactly that he must needs be satisfied.

  Gorju, obeying them with zeal, removed one of the poplar trees thatskirted the meadow above La Butte, and transported it to "the Cows'Pass," at the entrance of the village, the place appointed for thepurpose.

  Before the hour for the ceremony, all three awaited the procession. Theyheard a drum beating, and then beheld a silver cross. After thisappeared two torches borne by the chanters, then the cure, with stole,surplice, cope, and biretta. Four altar-boys escorted him, a fifthcarried the holy-water basin, and in the rear came the sacristan. He gotup on the raised edge of the hole in which stood the poplar tree,adorned with tri-coloured ribbons. On the opposite side could be seenthe mayor and his two deputies, Beljambe and Marescot; then theprincipal personages of the district, M. de Faverges, Vaucorbeil,Coulon, the justice of the peace, an old fogy with a sleepy face.Heurtaux wore a foraging-cap, and Alexandre Petit, the new schoolmaster,had put on his frock-coat, a threadbare green garment--his Sunday coat.The firemen, whom Girbal commanded, sword in hand, stood in single file.On the other side shone the white plates of some old shakos of the timeof Lafayette--five or six, no more--the National Guard having falleninto desuetude at Chavignolles. Peasants and their wives, workmen fromneighbouring factories, and village brats, crowded together in thebackground; and Placquevent, the keeper, five feet eight inches inheight, kept them in check with a look as he walked to and fro withfolded arms.

  The cure's speech was like that of other priests in similarcircumstances. After thundering against kings, he glorified theRepublic. "Do we not say 'the republic of letters,' 'the Christianrepublic'? What more innocent than the one, more beautiful than theother? Jesus Christ formulated our sublime device: the tree of thepeople was the tree of the Cross. In order that religion may give herfruits, she has need of charity." And, in the name of charity, theecclesiastic implored his brethren not to commit any disorder; to returnhome peaceably.

  Then he sprinkled the tree while he invoked the blessing of God. "May itgrow, and may it recall to us our enfranchisement from all servitude,and that fraternity more bountiful than the shade of its branches.Amen."

  Some voices repeated "Amen"; and, after an interval of drum-beating, theclergy, chanting a _Te Deum_, returned along the road to the church.

  Their intervention had produced an excellent effect. The simple saw init a promise of happiness, the patriotic a mark of deference, a sort ofhomage rendered to their principles.

  Bouvard and Pecuchet thought they should have been thanked for theirpresent, or at least that an allusion should have been made to it; andthey unbosomed themselves on the subject to Faverges and the doctor.

  What mattered wretched considerations of that sort? Vaucorbeil wasdelighted with the Revolution; so was the count. He execrated theOrleans family. They would never see them any more! Good-bye to them!All for the people henceforth! And followed by Hurel, his factotum, hewent to meet the cure.

  Foureau was walking with his head down, between the notary and theinnkeeper, irritated by the ceremony, as he was apprehensive of a riot;and instinctively he turned round towards Placquevent, who, togetherwith the captain, gave vent to loud regrets at Girbal'sunsatisfactoriness and the sorry appearance of his men.

  Some workmen passed along the road singing the "Marseillaise," withGorju among them brandishing a stick; Petit was escorting them, withfire in his eyes.

  "I don't like that!" said Marescot. "They are making a great outcry, andgetting too excited."

  "Oh, bless my soul!" replied Coulon; "young people must amusethemselves."

  Foureau heaved a sigh. "Queer amusement! and then the guillotine at theend of it!" He had visions of the scaffold, and was anticipatinghorrors.

  Chavignolles felt the rebound of the agitation in Paris. The villagerssubscribed to the newspapers. Every morning people crowded to thepost-office, and the postmistress would not have been able to getherself free from them had it not been for the captain, who sometimesassisted her. Then would follow a chat on the green.

  The first violent discussion was on the subject of Poland.

  Heurtaux and Bouvard called for its liberation.

  M. de Faverges took a different view.

  "What right have we to go there? That would be to let loose Europeagainst us. No imprudence!"

  And everybody approving of this, the two Poles held their tongues.

  On another occasion, Vaucorbeil spoke in favour of Ledru-Rollin'scirculars.

  Foureau retorted with a reference to the forty-five centimes.

  "But the government," said Pecuchet, "has suppressed slavery."

  "What does slavery matter to me?"

  "Well, what about the abolition of the death-penalty in politicalcases?"

  "Faith," replied Foureau, "they would like to abolish everything.However, who knows? the tenants are already showing themselves veryexacting."

  "So much the better! The proprietors," according to Pecuchet, "had beentoo much favoured. He that owns an estate----"

  Foureau and Marescot interrupted him, exclaiming that he was acommunist.

  "I--a communist!"

  And all kept talking at the same time. When Pecuchet proposed toestablish a club, Foureau had the hardihood to reply that they wouldnever see such a thing at Chavignolles.

  After this, Gorju demanded guns for the National Guard, the generalopinion having fixed on him as instructor. The only guns in the placewere those of the firemen. Girbal had possession of them. Foureau didnot care to deliver them up.

  Gorju looked at him.

  "You will find, however, that I know how to use them."

  For he added to his other occupations that of poaching, and theinnkeeper often bought from him a hare or a rabbit.

  "Faith! take them!" said Foureau.

  The same evening they began drilling. It was under the lawn, in front ofthe church. Gorju, in a blue smock-frock, with a neckcloth around hisloins, went through the movements in an automatic fashion. When he gavethe orders, his voice was gruff.

  "Draw in your bellies!"

  And immediately, Bouvard, keeping back his breath, drew in his stomach,and stretched out his buttocks.

  "Good God! you're not told to make an arch."

  Pecuchet confused the ranks and the files, half-turns to the right andhalf-turns to the left; but the most pitiable sight was theschoolmaster: weak and of a slim figure, with a ring of fair beardaround his neck, he staggered under the weight of his gun, the bayonetof which incommoded his neighbours.

  They wore trousers of every colour, dirty shoulder-belts, oldregimentals that were too short, leaving their shirts visible over theirflanks; and each of them pretended that he had not the means of doingotherwise. A subscription was started to clothe the poorest of them.Foureau was niggardly, while women made themselves conspicuous. MadameBordin gave five francs, in spite of her hatred of the Republic. M. deFaverges equipped a dozen men, and was not missing at the drill. Then hetook up his quarters at the grocer's, and gave those who came in first adrink.

  The powerful then began fawning on the lower class. Everyone
went afterthe working-men. People intrigued for the favour of being associatedwith them. They became nobles.

  Those of the canton were, for the most part, weavers; others worked inthe cotton mills or at a paper factory lately established.

  Gorju fascinated them by his bluster, taught them the shoe trick,[16]and brought those whom he treated as chums to Madame Castillon's housefor a drink.

  But the peasants were more numerous, and on market days M. de Favergeswould walk about the green, make inquiries as to their wants, and try toconvert them to his own ideas. They listened without answering, likePere Gouy, ready to accept any government so long as it reduced thetaxes.

  By dint of babbling, Gorju was making a name for himself. Perhaps theymight send him into the Assembly!

  M. de Faverges also was thinking of it, while seeking not to compromisehimself.

  The Conservatives oscillated between Foureau and Marescot, but, as thenotary stuck to his office, Foureau was chosen--a boor, an idiot. Thedoctor waxed indignant. Rejected in the competition, he regretted Paris,and the consciousness of his wasted life gave him a morose air. A moredistinguished career was about to open for him--what a revenge! He drewup a profession of faith, and went to read it to MM. Bouvard andPecuchet.

  They congratulated him upon it. Their opinions were identical with his.However, they wrote better, had a knowledge of history, and could cut asgood a figure as he in the Chamber. Why not? But which of them ought tooffer himself? And they entered upon a contest of delicacy.

  Pecuchet preferred that it should be his friend rather than himself.

  "No, it suits you better! you have a better deportment!"

  "Perhaps so," returned Bouvard, "but you have a better tuft of hair!"And, without solving the difficulty, they arranged their plans ofconduct.

  This vertigo of deputyship had seized on others. The captain dreamed ofit under his foraging-cap while puffing at his pipe, and theschoolmaster too in his school, and the cure also between two prayers,so that he sometimes surprised himself with his eyes towards heaven, inthe act of saying, "Grant, O my God, that I may be a deputy!"

  The doctor having received some encouragement, repaired to the house ofHeurtaux, and explained to him what his chances were. The captain didnot stand on ceremony about it. Vaucorbeil was known, undoubtedly, butlittle liked by his professional brethren, especially in the case ofchemists. Everyone would bark at him; the people did not want agentleman; his best patients would leave him. And, when he weighed thesearguments, the physician regretted his weakness.

  As soon as he had gone, Heurtaux went to see Placquevent. Between oldsoldiers there should be mutual courtesy, but the rural guard, devotedthough he was to Foureau, flatly refused to help him.

  The cure demonstrated to M. de Faverges that the hour had not come. Itwas necessary to give the Republic time to get used up.

  Bouvard and Pecuchet represented to Gorju that he would never be strongenough to overcome the coalition of the peasants and the villageshop-keepers, filled him with uncertainty, and deprived him of allconfidence.

  Petit, through pride, had allowed his ambition to be seen. Beljambewarned him that, if he failed, his dismissal was certain.

  Finally, the cure got orders from the bishop to keep quiet.

  Then, only Foureau remained.

  Bouvard and Pecuchet opposed him, bringing up against him his unfriendlyattitude about the guns, his opposition to the club, his reactionaryviews, his avarice; and even persuaded Gouy that he wished to bring backthe old _regime_. Vague as was the meaning of this word to the peasant'smind, he execrated it with a hatred that had accumulated in the souls ofhis forefathers throughout ten centuries; and he turned all hisrelatives, and those of his wife, brothers-in-law, cousins,grand-nephews (a horde of them), against Foureau.

  Gorju, Vaucorbeil, and Petit kept working for the overthrow of themayor; and, the ground being thus cleared, Bouvard and Pecuchet, withoutany doubt, were likely to succeed.

  They drew lots to know which would present himself. The drawing decidednothing, and they went to consult the doctor on the subject.

  He had news for them: Flacardoux, editor of _Le Calvados_, had announcedhis candidature. The two friends had a keen sense of having beendeceived. Each felt the other's disappointment more than his own. Butpolitics had an exciting influence on them. When the election-dayarrived they went to inspect the urns. Flacardoux had carried it!

  M. de Faverges had fallen back on the National Guard, without obtainingthe epaulet of commander. The people of Chavignolles contrived to getBeljambe nominated.

  This favouritism on the part of the public, so whimsical and unforeseen,dismayed Heurtaux. He had neglected his duties, confining himself toinspecting the military operations now and then, and giving utterance toa few remarks. No matter! He considered it a monstrous thing that aninnkeeper should be preferred to one who had been formerly a captain inthe Imperial service, and he said, after the invasion of the Chamber onthe 15th of May: "If the military grades give themselves away like thatin the capital, I shall be no longer astonished at what may happen."

  The reaction began.

  People believed in Louis Blanc's pineapple soup, in Flocon's bed ofgold, and Ledru-Rollin's royal orgies; and as the province pretends toknow everything that happens in Paris, the inhabitants of Chavignolleshad no doubt about these inventions, and gave credence to the mostabsurd reports.

  M. de Faverges one evening came to look for the cure, in order to tellhim that the Count de Chambord had arrived in Normandy.

  Joinville, according to Foureau, had made preparations with his sailorsto put down "these socialists of yours." Heurtaux declared that LouisNapoleon would shortly be consul.

  The factories had stopped. Poor people wandered in large groups aboutthe country.

  One Sunday (it was in the early days of June) a gendarme suddenlystarted in the direction of Falaise. The workmen of Acqueville, Liffard,Pierre-Pont, and Saint-Remy were marching on Chavignolles. The shedswere shut up. The municipal council assembled and passed a resolution,to prevent catastrophes, that no resistance should be offered. Thegendarmes were kept in, and orders were given to them not to showthemselves. Soon was heard, as it were, the rumbling of a storm. Thenthe song of the Girondists shook the windows, and men, arm in arm,passed along the road from Caen, dusty, sweating, in rags. They filledup the entire space in front of the council chamber, and a greathurly-burly arose.

  Gorju and two of his comrades entered the chamber. One of them was leanand wretched-looking, with a knitted waistcoat, the ribbons of whichwere hanging down; the other, black as coal--a machinist, no doubt--withhair like a brush, thick eyebrows, and old list shoes. Gorju, like ahussar, wore his waistcoat slung over his shoulder.

  All three remained standing, and the councillors, seated round thetable, which was covered with a blue cloth, gazed at their faces, palefrom privation.

  "Citizens!" said Gorju, "we want work."

  The mayor trembled. He could not find his voice.

  Marescot replied from the place where he sat that the council wouldconsider the matter directly; and when the comrades had gone out theydiscussed several suggestions.

  The first was to have stones drawn.

  In order to utilise the stones, Girbal proposed a road from Anglevilleto Tournebu.

  That from Bayeux had positively rendered the same service.

  They could clear out the pond! This was not sufficient as a public work.Or rather, dig a second pond! But in what place?

  Langlois' advice was to construct an embankment along the Mortins as aprotection against an inundation. It would be better, Beljambe thought,to clear away the heather.

  It was impossible to arrive at any conclusion. To appease the crowd,Coulon went down over the peristyle and announced that they werepreparing charity workshops.

  "Charity! Thanks!" cried Gorju. "Down with the aristocrats! We want theright to work!"

  It was the question of the time. He made use of it as a source ofpopularity. He was
applauded.

  In turning round he elbowed Bouvard, whom Pecuchet had dragged to thespot, and they entered into conversation. Nothing could keep them back;the municipal building was surrounded; the council could not escape.

  "Where shall you get money?" said Bouvard.

  "In the rich people's houses. Besides, the government will give ordersfor public works."

  "And if works are not wanted?"

  "They will have them made in advance."

  "But wages will fall," urged Pecuchet. "When work happens to be lacking,it is because there are too many products; and you demand to have themincreased!"

  Gorju bit his moustache. "However, with the organisation of labour----"

  "Then the government will be the master!"

  Some of those around murmured:

  "No, no! no more masters!"

  Gorju got angry. "No matter! Workers should be supplied with capital, orrather credit should be established."

  "In what way?"

  "Ah! I don't know; but credit ought to be established."

  "We've had enough of that," said the machinist. "They are only plaguingus, these farce-actors!"

  And he climbed up the steps, declaring that he would break open thedoor.

  There he was met by Placquevent, with his right knee bent and his fistsclenched:

  "Advance one inch further!"

  The machinist recoiled. The shouting of the mob reached the chamber. Allarose with the desire to run away. The help from Falaise had notarrived. They bewailed the count's absence. Marescot kept twisting apen; Pere Coulon groaned; Heurtaux lashed himself into a fury to makethem send for the gendarmes.

  "Command them to come!" said Foureau.

  "I have no authority."

  The noise, however, redoubled. The whole green was covered with people,and they were all staring at the first story of the building when, atthe window in the middle, under the clock, Pecuchet made his appearance.

  He had ingeniously gone up by the back-stairs, and, wishing to be likeLamartine, he began a harangue to the populace:

  "Citizens!----"

  But his cap, his nose, his frock-coat, his entire personality lackeddistinction.

  The man in the knitted waistcoat asked him:

  "Are you a workman?"

  "No."

  "A master, then?"

  "Nor that either."

  "Well, take yourself off, then."

  "Why?" returned Pecuchet, haughtily.

  And the next moment he disappeared, in the machinist's clutch, into therecess of the window.

  Gorju came to his assistance. "Let him alone! He's a decent fellow."They clenched.

  The door flew open, and Marescot, on the threshold, announced thedecision of the council. Hurel had suggested his doing so.

  The road from Tournebu would have a branch road in the direction ofAngleville and leading towards the chateau of Faverges.

  It was a sacrifice which the commune took upon itself in the interest ofthe working-men.

  They dispersed.

  When Bouvard and Pecuchet re-entered their house, women's voices fellupon their ears. The servants and Madame Bordin were breaking intoexclamations, the widow's screams being the loudest; and at sight ofthem she cried:

  "Ha! this is very fortunate! I have been waiting for you for the lastthree hours! My poor garden has not a single tulip left! Filtheverywhere on the grass! No way of getting rid of him!"

  "Who is it?"

  "Pere Gouy."

  He had come with a cartload of manure, and had scattered it pell-mellover the grass.

  "He is now digging it up. Hurry on and make him stop."

  "I am going with you," said Bouvard.

  At the bottom of the steps outside, a horse in the shafts of a dung-cartwas gnawing at a bunch of oleanders. The wheels, in grazing the flowerborders, had bruised the box trees, broken a rhododendron, knocked downthe dahlias; and clods of black muck, like molehills, embossed the greensward. Gouy was vigorously digging it up.

  One day Madame Bordin had carelessly said to him that she would like tohave it turned up. He set about the job, and, in spite of her orders todesist, went on with it. This was the way that he interpreted the rightto work, Gorju's talk having turned his brain.

  He went away only after violent threats from Bouvard.

  Madame Bordin, by way of compensation, did not pay for the manuallabour, and kept the manure. She was wise: the doctor's wife, and eventhe notary's, though of higher social position, respected her for it.

  The charity workshops lasted a week. No trouble occurred. Gorju left theneighbourhood.

  Meanwhile, the National Guard was always on foot: on Sunday, a review;military promenades, occasionally; and, every night, patrols. Theydisturbed the village. They rang the bells of houses for fun; they madetheir way into the bedrooms where married couples were snoring on thesame bolster; then they uttered broad jokes, and the husband, rising,would go and get them a glass each. Afterwards, they would return to theguard-house to play a hundred of dominoes, would consume a quantity ofcider there, and eat cheese, while the sentinel, worn out, would keepopening the door every other minute. There was a prevailing absence ofdiscipline, owing to Beljambe's laxity.

  When the days of June came, everyone was in favour of "flying to therelief of Paris"; but Foureau could not leave the mayoral premises,Marescot his office, the doctor his patients, or Girbal his firemen. M.de Faverges was at Cherbourg. Beljambe kept his bed. The captaingrumbled: "They did not want me; so much the worse!"--and Bouvard hadthe wisdom to put restraint on Pecuchet.

  The patrols throughout the country were extended farther. They werepanic-stricken by the shadow of a haystack, or by the forms of branches.On one occasion the entire National Guard turned and ran. In themoonlight they had observed, under an apple tree, a man with a gun,taking aim at them. At another time, on a dark night, the patrol haltingunder the beech trees, heard some one close at hand.

  "Who is there?"

  No answer.

  They allowed the person to pursue his course, following him at adistance, for he might have a pistol or a tomahawk; but when they werein the village, within reach of help, the dozen men of the companyrushed together upon him, exclaiming:

  "Your papers!" They pulled him about and overwhelmed him with insults.The men at the guard-house had gone out. They dragged him there; and bythe light of the candle that was burning on top of the stove they atlast recognised Gorju.

  A wretched greatcoat of lasting was flapping over his shoulders. Histoes could be seen through the holes in his boots. Scratches and bruisesstained his face with blood. He was fearfully emaciated, and rolled hiseyes about like a wolf.

  Foureau, coming up speedily, questioned him as to how he chanced to beunder the beech trees, what his object was in coming back toChavignolles, and also as to the employment of his time for the past sixweeks.

  "That is no business of yours. I have my liberty."

  Placquevent searched him to find out whether he had cartridges abouthim.

  They were about to imprison him provisionally.

  Bouvard interposed.

  "No use," replied the mayor; "we know your opinions."

  "Nevertheless----"

  "Ha! be careful; I give you warning. Be careful."

  Bouvard persisted no further.

  Gorju then turned towards Pecuchet: "And you, master, have you not aword to say for me?"

  Pecuchet hung down his head, as if he had a suspicion against hisinnocence.

  The poor wretch smiled bitterly.

  "I protected you, all the same."

  At daybreak, two gendarmes took him to Falaise.

  He was not tried before a court-martial, but was sentenced by the civiltribunal to three months' imprisonment for the misdemeanour of languagetending towards the destruction of society. From Falaise he wrote to hisformer employers to send him soon a certificate of good life and morals,and as their signature required to be legalised by the mayor or thedeputy, they preferred to a
sk Marescot to do this little service forthem.

  They were introduced into a dining-room, decorated with dishes of fineold earthenware; a Boule clock occupied the narrowest shelf. On themahogany table, without a cloth, were two napkins, a teapot andfinger-glasses. Madame Marescot crossed the room in a dressing-gown ofblue cashmere. She was a Parisian who was bored with the country. Thenthe notary came in, with his cap in one hand, a newspaper in the other;and at once, in the most polite fashion, he affixed his seal, althoughtheir _protege_ was a dangerous man.

  "Really," said Bouvard, "for a few words----"

  "But words lead to crimes, my dear sir, give me leave to say."

  "And yet," said Pecuchet, "what line of demarcation can you lay downbetween innocent and guilty phrases? The thing that just now isprohibited may be subsequently applauded." And he censured the harshnesswith which the insurgents had been treated.

  Marescot naturally rested his case on the necessity of protectingsociety, the public safety--the supreme law.

  "Pardon me!" said Pecuchet, "the right of a single individual is as muchentitled to respect as those of all, and you have nothing to oppose tohim but force if he turns your axiom upon yourself."

  Instead of replying, Marescot lifted his brows disdainfully. Providedthat he continued to draw up legal documents, and to live among hisplates, in his comfortable little home, injustices of every kind mightpresent themselves without affecting him. Business called him away. Heexcused himself.

  His theory of public safety excited their indignation. The Conservativesnow talked like Robespierre.

  Another matter for astonishment: Cavaignac was flagging; the GardeMobile was exposing itself to suspicion. Ledru-Rollin had ruined himselfeven in Vaucorbeil's estimation. The debates on the Constitutioninterested nobody, and on the 10th of December all the inhabitants ofChavignolles voted for Bonaparte. The six millions of votes madePecuchet grow cold with regard to the people, and Bouvard and heproceeded to study the question of universal suffrage.

  As it belongs to everybody, it cannot possess intelligence. Oneambitious man will always be the leader; the others will follow him likea flock of sheep, the electors not being compelled even to know how toread. This was the reason, in Bouvard's opinion, that there were so manyfrauds at presidential elections.

  "None," replied Bouvard; "I believe rather in the gullibility of thepeople. Think of all who buy the patent health-restorer, the Dupuytrenpomatum, the Chatelaine's water, etc. Those boobies constitute themajority of the electorate, and we submit to their will. Why cannot anincome of three thousand francs be made out of rabbits? Because theovercrowding of them is a cause of death. In the same way, through themere fact of its being a multitude, the germs of stupidity contained init are developed, and thence result consequences that are incalculable."

  "Your scepticism frightens me," said Pecuchet.

  At a later period, in the spring, they met M. de Faverges, who apprisedthem of the expedition to Rome. We should not attack the Italians, butwe should require guaranties. Otherwise our influence would bedestroyed. Nothing would be more legitimate than this intervention.

  Bouvard opened his eyes wide. "On the subject of Poland, you expressed acontrary opinion."

  "It is no longer the same thing." It was now a question of the Pope.

  And M. de Faverges, when he said, "We wish," "We shall do," "Wecalculate clearly," represented a group.

  Bouvard and Pecuchet were disgusted with the minority quite as much aswith the majority. The common people, in short, were just the same asthe aristocracy.

  The right of intervention appeared dubious to them. They sought for itsprinciples in Calvo, Martens, Vattel; and Bouvard's conclusion was this:

  "There may be intervention to restore a prince to the throne, toemancipate a people, or, for the sake of precaution, in view of a publicdanger. In other cases it is an outrage on the rights of others, anabuse of force, a piece of hypocritical violence."

  "And yet," said Pecuchet, "peoples have a solidarity as well as men."

  "Perhaps so." And Bouvard sank into a reverie.

  The expedition to Rome soon began.

  At home, through hatred of revolutionary ideas, the leaders of theParisian middle class got two printing-offices sacked. The great partyof order was formed.

  It had for its chiefs in the arrondissement the count, Foureau,Marescot, and the cure. Every day, about four o'clock, they walked fromone end of the green to the other, and talked over the events of theday. The principal business was the distribution of pamphlets. Thetitles did not lack attractiveness: "God will be pleased with it"; "Thesharing"; "Let us get out of the mess"; "Where are we going?" The finestthings among them were the dialogues in the style of villagers, withoaths and bad French, to elevate the mental faculties of the peasants.By a new law, the hawking of pamphlets would be in the hands of theprefects; and they had just crammed Proudhon into St. Pelagie--gigantictriumph!

  The trees of liberty were generally torn down. Chavignolles obeyedorders. Bouvard saw with his own eyes the fragments of his poplar on awheelbarrow. They helped to warm the gendarmes, and the stump wasoffered to the cure, who had blessed it. What a mockery!

  The schoolmaster did not hide his way of thinking.

  Bouvard and Pecuchet congratulated him on it one day as they werepassing in front of his door. Next day he presented himself at theirresidence.

  At the end of the week they returned his visit.

  The day was declining. The brats had just gone home, and theschoolmaster, in half-sleeves, was sweeping the yard. His wife, with aneckerchief tied round her head, was suckling a baby. A little girl washiding herself behind her petticoat; a hideous-looking child was playingon the ground at her feet. The water from the washing she had been doingin the kitchen was flowing to the lower end of the house.

  "You see," said the schoolmaster, "how the government treats us."

  And forthwith he began finding fault with capital as an infamous thing.It was necessary to democratise it, to enfranchise matter.

  "I ask for nothing better," said Pecuchet.

  At least, they ought to have recognised the right to assistance.

  "One more right!" said Bouvard.

  No matter! The provisional government had acted in a flabby fashion bynot ordaining fraternity.

  "Then try to establish it."

  As there was no longer daylight, Petit rudely ordered his wife to carrya candle to his study.

  The lithograph portraits of the orators of the Left were fastened withpins to the plaster walls. A bookshelf stood above a deal writing-desk.There were a chair, stool, and an old soap-box for persons to sit downupon. He made a show of laughing. But want had laid its traces on hischeeks, and his narrow temples indicated the stubbornness of a ram, anintractable pride. He never would yield.

  "Besides, see what sustains me!"

  It was a pile of newspapers on a shelf, and in feverish phrases heexplained the articles of his faith: disarmament of troops, abolition ofthe magistracy, equality of salaries, a levelling process by which thegolden age was to be brought about under the form of the Republic, witha dictator at its head--a fellow that would carry this out for usbriskly!

  Then he reached for a bottle of aniseed cordial and three glasses, inorder to propose the toast of the hero, the immortal victim, the greatMaximilian.

  On the threshold appeared the black cassock of the priest. Havingsaluted those present in an animated fashion, he addressed theschoolmaster, speaking almost in a whisper:

  "Our business about St. Joseph, what stage is it at?"

  "They have given nothing," replied the schoolmaster.

  "That is your fault!"

  "I have done what I could."

  "Ha! really?"

  Bouvard and Pecuchet discreetly rose. Petit made them sit down again,and addressing the cure:

  "Is that all?"

  The Abbe Jeufroy hesitated. Then, with a smile which tempered hisreprimand:

  "It is supposed that you are rather n
egligent about sacred history."

  "Oh, sacred history!" interrupted Bouvard.

  "What fault have you to find with it, sir?"

  "I--none. Only there are perhaps more useful things to be learned thanthe anecdote of Jonas and the story of the kings of Israel."

  "You are free to do as you please," replied the priest drily.

  And without regard for the strangers, or on account of their presence:

  "The catechism hour is too short."

  Petit shrugged his shoulders.

  "Mind! You will lose your boarders!"

  The ten francs a month for these pupils formed the best part of hisremuneration. But the cassock exasperated him.

  "So much the worse; take your revenge!"

  "A man of my character does not revenge himself," said the priest,without being moved. "Only I would remind you that the law of thefifteenth of March assigns us to the superintendence of primaryeducation."

  "Ah! I know that well," cried the schoolmaster. "It is given even tocolonels of gendarmes. Why not to the rural guard? That would completethe thing!"

  And he sank upon the stool, biting his fingers, repressing his rage,stifled by the feeling of his own powerlessness.

  The priest touched him lightly on the shoulder.

  "I did not intend to annoy you, my friend. Keep yourself quiet. Be alittle reasonable. Here is Easter close at hand; I hope you will showan example by going to communion along with the others."

  "That is too much! I--I submit to such absurdities!"

  At this blasphemy the cure turned pale, his eyeballs gleamed, his jawquivered.

  "Silence, unhappy man! silence! And it is his wife who looks after thechurch linen!"

  "Well, what then? What has she done to you?"

  "She always stays away from mass. Like yourself, for that matter!"

  "Oh! a schoolmaster is not sent away for a thing of that kind!"

  "He can be removed."

  The priest said no more.

  He was at the end of the room, in the shadow.

  Petit was thinking, with his head resting on his chest.

  They would arrive at the other end of France, their last sou eaten up bythe journey, and they would again find down there, under differentnames, the same cure, the same superintendent, the same prefect--all,even to the minister, were like links in a chain dragging him down. Hehad already had one warning--others would follow. After that?--and in akind of hallucination he saw himself walking along a high-road, a bag onhis back, those whom he loved by his side, and his hand held out towardsa post-chaise.

  At that moment his wife was seized with a fit of coughing in thekitchen, the new-born infant began to squeal, and the boy was crying.

  "Poor children!" said the priest in a softened voice.

  The father thereupon broke into sobs:

  "Yes, yes! whatever you require!"

  "I count upon it," replied the cure.

  And, having made the customary bow:

  "Well, good evening to you, gentlemen."

  The schoolmaster remained with his face in his hands.

  He pushed away Bouvard. "No! let me alone. I feel as if I'd like to die.I am an unfortunate man."

  The two friends, when they reached their own house, congratulatedthemselves on their independence. The power of the clergy terrifiedthem.

  It was now employed for the purpose of strengthening public order. TheRepublic was about to disappear.

  Three millions of electors found themselves excluded from universalsuffrage. The security required from newspapers was raised; the presscensorship was re-established. It was even suggested that it should beput in force against the fiction columns. Classical philosophy wasconsidered dangerous. The commercial classes preached the dogma ofmaterial interests; and the populace seemed satisfied.

  The country-people came back to their old masters.

  M. de Faverges, who had estates in Eure, was declared a member of theLegislative Assembly, and his re-election for the general council ofCalvados was certain beforehand.

  He thought proper to invite the leading personages in the district to aluncheon.

  The vestibule in which three servants were waiting to take theirovercoats, the billiard-room and the pair of drawing-rooms, the plantsin china vases, the bronzes on the mantel-shelves, the gold wands onthe panelled walls, the heavy curtains, the wide armchairs--this displayof luxury struck them at once as a mark of courtesy towards them; and,when they entered the dining-room, at the sight of the table laden withmeats in silver dishes, together with the row of glasses before eachplate, the side-dishes here and there, and a salmon in the middle, everyface brightened up.

  The party numbered seventeen, including two sturdy agriculturists, thesub-prefect of Bayeux and one person from Cherbourg. M. de Favergesbegged his guests to excuse the countess, who was absent owing to aheadache; and, after some commendations of the pears and grapes, whichfilled four baskets at the corners, he asked about the great news--theproject of a descent on England by Changarnier.

  Heurtaux desired it as a soldier, the cure through hatred of theProtestants, and Foureau in the interests of commerce.

  "You are giving expression," said Pecuchet, "to the sentiments of theMiddle Ages."

  "The Middle Ages had their good side," returned Marescot. "For instance,our cathedrals."

  "However, sir, the abuses----"

  "No matter--the Revolution would not have come."

  "Ha! the Revolution--there's the misfortune," said the ecclesiastic witha sigh.

  "But everyone contributed towards it, and (excuse me, Monsieur le Comte)the nobles themselves by their alliance with the philosophers."

  "What is it you want? Louis XVIII. legalised spoliation. Since that timethe parliamentary system is sapping the foundations."

  A joint of roast beef made its appearance, and for some minutes nothingwas heard save the sounds made by forks and moving jaws, and by theservants crossing the floor with the two words on their lips, which theyrepeated continually:

  "Madeira! Sauterne!"

  The conversation was resumed by the gentleman from Cherbourg:

  "How were they to stop on the slope of an abyss?"

  "Amongst the Athenians," said Marescot--"amongst the Athenians, towardswhom we bear certain resemblances, Solon checkmated the democrats byraising the electoral census."

  "It would be better," said Hurel, "to suppress the Chamber: everydisorder comes from Paris."

  "Let us decentralise," said the notary.

  "On a large scale," added the count.

  In Foureau's opinion, the communal authorities should have absolutecontrol, even to the extent of prohibiting travellers from using theirroads, if they thought fit.

  And whilst the dishes followed one another--fowl with gravy, lobsters,mushrooms, salads, roast larks--many topics were handled: the bestsystem of taxation, the advantages of the large system of landcultivation, the abolition of the death penalty. The sub-prefect did notforget to cite that charming witticism of a clever man: "Let Messieursthe Assassins begin!"

  Bouvard was astonished at the contrast between the surroundings and theremarks that reached his ears; for one would think that the languageused should always harmonise with the environment, and that loftyceilings should be made for great thoughts. Nevertheless, he wasflushed at dessert, and saw the fruit-dishes as if through a fog.Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Malaga were amongst the wines sent round. M. deFaverges, who knew the people he had to deal with, made the champagneflow. The guests, touching glasses, drank to his success at theelection; and more than three hours elapsed before they passed out intothe smoking-room, where coffee was served.

  A caricature from _Charivari_ was trailing on the floor between somecopies of the _Univers_. It represented a citizen the skirts of whosefrock-coat allowed a tail to be seen with an eye at the end of it.Marescot explained it amid much laughter.

  They swallowed their liqueurs, and the ashes of their cigars fell on thepaddings of the furniture.

&nb
sp; The abbe, desirous to convince Girbal, began an attack on Voltaire.Coulon fell asleep. M. de Faverges avowed his devotion to Chambord.

  "The bees furnish an argument for monarchy."

  "But the ants for the Republic." However, the doctor adhered to it nolonger.

  "You are right," said the sub-prefect; "the form of government matterslittle."

  "With liberty," suggested Pecuchet.

  "An honest man has no need of it," replied Foureau. "I make no speeches,for my part. I am not a journalist. And I tell you that France requiresto be governed with a rod of iron."

  All called for a deliverer. As they were going out, Bouvard and Pecuchetheard M. de Faverges saying to the Abbe Jeufroy:

  "We must re-establish obedience. Authority perishes if it be made thesubject of discussion. The Divine Right--there is nothing but that!"

  "Exactly, Monsieur le Comte."

  The pale rays of an October sun were lengthening out behind the woods. Amoist wind was blowing, and as they walked over the dead leaves theybreathed like men who had just been set free.

  All that they had not found the opportunity of saying escaped from themin exclamations:

  "What idiots!"

  "What baseness!"

  "How is it possible to imagine such obstinacy!"

  "In the first place, what is the meaning of the Divine Right?"

  Dumouchel's friend, that professor who had supplied them withinstruction on the subject of aesthetics, replied to their inquiries in alearned letter.

  "The theory of Divine Right was formulated in the reign of Charles II.by the Englishman Filmer. Here it is:

  "'The Creator gave the first man dominion over the world. It wastransmitted to his descendants, and the power of the king emanates fromGod.'

  "'He is His image,' writes Bossuet. 'The paternal empire accustoms us tothe domination of one alone. Kings have been made after the model ofparents.'

  "Locke refuted this doctrine: 'The paternal power is distinguished fromthe monarchic, every subject having the same right over his childrenthat the monarch has over his own. Royalty exists only through thepopular choice; and even the election was recalled at the ceremony ofcoronation, in which two bishops, pointing towards the king, asked bothnobles and peasants whether they accepted him as such.'

  "Therefore, authority comes from the people.

  "'They have the right to do what they like,' says Helvetius; to 'changetheir constitution,' says Vattel; to 'revolt against injustice,'according to the contention of Glafey, Hotman, Mably, and others; andSt. Thomas Aquinas authorises them to 'deliver themselves from atyrant.' 'They are even,' says Jurieu, 'dispensed from being right.'"

  Astonished at the axiom, they took up Rousseau's _Contrat Social_.Pecuchet went through to the end. Then closing his eyes, and throwingback his head, he made an analysis of it.

  "A convention is assumed whereby the individual gives up his liberty.

  "The people at the same time undertook to protect him against theinequalities of nature, and made him owner of the things he had in hispossession."

  "Where is the proof of the contract?"

  "Nowhere! And the community does not offer any guaranty. The citizensoccupy themselves exclusively with politics. But as callings arenecessary, Rousseau is in favour of slavery. 'The sciences havedestroyed the human race. The theatre is corrupting, money fatal, andthe state ought to impose a religion under the penalty of death.'"

  "What!" said they, "here is the pontiff of democracy."

  All the champions of reform had copied him; and they procured the_Examen du Socialisme_, by Morant.

  The first chapter explained the doctrine of Saint-Simon.

  At the top the Father, at the same time Pope and Emperor. Abolition ofinheritance; all property movable and immovable forming a social fund,which should be worked on a hierarchical basis. The manufacturers are togovern the public fortune. But there is nothing to be afraid of; theywill have as a leader the "one who loves the most."

  One thing is lacking: woman. On the advent of woman depends thesalvation of the world.

  "I do not understand."

  "Nor I."

  And they turned to Fourierism:

  "'All misfortunes come from constraint. Let the attraction be free, andharmony will be established.

  "'In our souls are shut up a dozen leading passions: five egoistical,four animistic, and three distributive. The first class have referenceto individuals, the second to groups, the last to groups of groups, orseries, of which the whole forms a phalanx, a society of eighteenhundred persons dwelling in a palace. Every morning carriages convey theworkers into the country, and bring them back in the evening. Standardsare carried, festivities are held, cakes are eaten. Every woman, if shedesires it, can have three men--the husband, the lover, and theprocreator. For celibates, the Bayadere system is established----'"

  "That fits me!" said Bouvard. And he lost himself in dreams of theharmonious world.

  "'By the restoration of climatures, the earth will become morebeautiful; by the crossing of races, human life will become longer. Theclouds will be guided as the thunderbolt is now: it will rain at nightin the cities so that they will be clean. Ships will cross the polarseas, thawed beneath the Aurora Borealis. For everything is produced bythe conjunction of two fluids, male and female, gushing out from thepoles, and the northern lights are a symptom of the blending of theplanets--a prolific emission.'"

  "This is beyond me!" said Pecuchet.

  After Saint-Simon and Fourier the problem resolves itself into questionsof wages.

  Louis Blanc, in the interests of the working class, wishes to abolishexternal commerce; Lafarelle to tax machinery; another to take off thedrink duties, to restore trade wardenships, or to distribute soups.

  Proudhon conceives the idea of a uniform tariff, and claims for thestate the monopoly of sugar.

  "These socialists," said Bouvard, "always call for tyranny."

  "Oh, no!"

  "Yes, indeed!"

  "You are absurd!"

  "Well, I am shocked at you!"

  They sent for the works of which they had only summaries. Bouvard noteda number of passages, and, pointing them out, said:

  "Read for yourself. They offer as examples to us the Essenes, theMoravian Brethren, the Jesuits of Paraguay, and even the government ofprisons."

  "'Amongst the Icarians breakfast was over in twenty minutes; women weredelivered at the hospitals. As for books, it was forbidden to print themwithout the authorisation of the Republic.'"

  "But Cabet is an idiot."

  "Here, now, we have from Saint-Simon: 'The publicists should submittheir works to a committee of manufacturers.'

  "And from Pierre Leroux: 'The law will compel the citizens to listen toan orator.'

  "And from Auguste Comte: 'The priests will educate the youth, willexercise supervision over literary works, and will reserve to themselvesthe power of regulating procreation.'"

  These quotations troubled Pecuchet. In the evening, at dinner, hereplied:

  "I admit that there are absurdities in the works of the inventors ofUtopias; nevertheless they deserve our sympathy. The hideousness of theworld tormented them, and, in order to make it beautiful, they enduredeverything. Recall to mind More decapitated, Campanella put seven timesto the torture, Buonarotti with a chain round his neck, Saint-Simondying of want; many others. They might have lived in peace; but no! theymarched on their way with their heads towards the sky, like heroes."

  "Do you believe," said Bouvard, "that the world will change, thanks tothe theories of some particular gentleman?"

  "What does it matter?" said Pecuchet; "it is time to cease stagnating inselfishness. Let us look out for the best system."

  "Then you expect to find it?"

  "Certainly."

  "You?"

  And, in the fit of laughter with which Bouvard was seized, his shouldersand stomach kept shaking in harmony. Redder than the jams before them,with his napkin under his armpits, he kept repeating, "Ha
! ha! ha!" inan irritating fashion.

  Pecuchet left the room, slamming the door after him.

  Germaine went all over the house to call him, and he was found at theend of his own apartment in an easy chair, without fire or candle, hiscap drawn over his eyes. He was not unwell, but had given himself up tohis own broodings.

  When the quarrel was over they recognised that a foundation was neededfor their studies--political economy.

  They inquired into supply and demand, capital and rent, importation andprohibition.

  One night Pecuchet was awakened by the creaking of a boot in thecorridor. The evening before, according to custom, he had himself drawnall the bolts; and he called out to Bouvard, who was fast asleep.

  They remained motionless under the coverlets. The noise was notrepeated.

  The servants, on being questioned, said they had heard nothing.

  But, while walking through the garden, they remarked in the middle of aflower-bed, near the gateway, the imprint of a boot-sole, and two of thesticks used as supports for the trees were broken. Evidently some onehad climbed over.

  It was necessary to give notice of it to the rural guard.

  As he was not at the municipal building, Pecuchet thought of going tothe grocer's shop.

  Who should they see in the back shop, beside Placquevent, in the midstof the topers, but Gorju--Gorju, rigged out like a well-to-do citizen,entertaining the company!

  This meeting was taken as a matter of course.

  So on they lapsed into a discussion about progress.

  Bouvard had no doubt it existed in the domain of science. But in that ofliterature it was not so manifest; and if comfort increases, the poeticside of life disappears.

  Pecuchet, in order to bring home conviction on the point, took a pieceof paper: "I trace across here an undulating line. Those who happen totravel over it, whenever it sinks, can no longer see the horizon. Itrises again nevertheless, and, in spite of its windings, they reach thetop. This is an image of progress."

  Madame Bordin entered at this point.

  It was the 3rd of December, 1851. She had the newspaper in her hand.

  They read very quickly, side by side, the news of the appeal to thepeople, the dissolution of the Chamber, and the imprisonment of thedeputies.

  Pecuchet turned pale. Bouvard gazed at the widow.

  "What! have you nothing to say?"

  "What do you wish me to do here?" (They had forgotten to offer her aseat.) "I came here simply out of courtesy towards you, and you arescarcely civil to-day."

  And out she went, disgusted at their want of politeness.

  The astonishing news had struck them dumb. Then they went about thevillage venting their indignation.

  Marescot, whom they found surrounded by a pile of deeds, took adifferent view. The babbling of the Chamber was at an end, thank Heaven!Henceforth they would have a business policy.

  Beljambe knew nothing about the occurrences, and, furthermore, helaughed at them.

  In the market-place they stopped Vaucorbeil.

  The physician had got over all that. "You are very foolish to botheryourselves."

  Foureau passed them by, remarking with a sly air, "The democrats areswamped."

  And the captain, with Girbal's arm in his, exclaimed from a distance,"Long live the Emperor!"

  But Petit would be sure to understand them, and Bouvard having tapped ata window-pane, the schoolmaster quitted his class.

  He thought it a good joke to have Thiers in prison. This would avengethe people.

  "Ha! ha! my gentlemen deputies, your turn now!"

  The volley of musketry on the boulevards met with the approval of thepeople of Chavignolles. No mercy for the vanquished, no pity for thevictims! Once you revolt, you are a scoundrel!

  "Let us be grateful to Providence," said the cure, "and under Providenceto Louis Bonaparte. He gathers around him the most distinguished men.The Count de Faverges will be made a senator."

  Next day they had a visit from Placquevent.

  "These gentlemen" had talked a great deal. He required a promise fromthem to hold their tongues.

  "Do you wish to know my opinion?" said Pecuchet. "Since the middle classis ferocious and the working-men jealous-minded, whilst the people,after all, accept every tyrant, so long as they are allowed to keeptheir snouts in the mess, Napoleon has done right. Let him gag them, therabble, and exterminate them--this will never be too much for theirhatred of right, their cowardice, their incapacity, and theirblindness."

  Bouvard mused: "Hey! progress! what humbug!" He added: "And politics, anice heap of dirt!"

  "It is not a science," returned Pecuchet. "The military art is better:you can tell what will happen--we ought to turn our hands to it."

  "Oh, thanks," was Bouvard's answer. "I am disgusted with everything.Better for us to sell our barrack, and go in the name of God's thunderamongst the savages."

  "Just as you like."

  Melie was drawing water out in the yard.

  The wooden pump had a long lever. In order to make it work, she bent herback, so that her blue stockings could be seen as high as the calf ofher legs. Then, with a rapid movement, she raised her right arm, whileshe turned her head a little to one side; and Pecuchet, as he gazed ather, felt quite a new sensation, a charm, a thrill of intense delight.