_ CHAPTER VI. REVOLT OF THE PEOPLE
On the morning of the 25th of February, 1848, the news was brought to Chavignolles, by a person who had come from Falaise, that Paris was covered with barricades, and the next day the proclamation of the Republic 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 la Roche-Jacquelein himself had given promise of their adherence to the provisional government, their breasts began to expand; and, as trees of liberty were planted at Paris, the municipal council decided that they ought to have them at Chavignolles.
Bouvard made an offer of one, his patriotism exulting in the triumph of the people; as for Pecuchet, the fall of royalty confirmed his anticipations so exactly that he must needs be satisfied.
Gorju, obeying them with zeal, removed one of the poplar trees that skirted the meadow above La Butte, and transported it to "the Cows' Pass," at the entrance of the village, the place appointed for the purpose.
Before the hour for the ceremony, all three awaited the procession. They heard a drum beating, and then beheld a silver cross. After this appeared two torches borne by the chanters, then the cure, with stole, surplice, cope, and biretta. Four altar-boys escorted him, a fifth carried the holy-water basin, and in the rear came the sacristan. He got up on the raised edge of the hole in which stood the poplar tree, adorned with tri-coloured ribbons. On the opposite side could be seen the mayor and his two deputies, Beljambe and Marescot; then the principal 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 time of Lafayette--five or six, no more--the National Guard having fallen into desuetude at Chavignolles. Peasants and their wives, workmen from neighbouring factories, and village brats, crowded together in the background; and Placquevent, the keeper, five feet eight inches in height, kept them in check with a look as he walked to and fro with folded arms.
The cure's speech was like that of other priests in similar circumstances. After thundering against kings, he glorified the Republic. "Do we not say 'the republic of letters,' 'the Christian republic'? What more innocent than the one, more beautiful than the other? Jesus Christ formulated our sublime device: the tree of the people was the tree of the Cross. In order that religion may give her fruits, she has need of charity." And, in the name of charity, the ecclesiastic implored his brethren not to commit any disorder; to return home peaceably.
Then he sprinkled the tree while he invoked the blessing of God. "May it grow, 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, the clergy, chanting a _Te Deum_, returned along the road to the church.
Their intervention had produced an excellent effect. The simple saw in it a promise of happiness, the patriotic a mark of deference, a sort of homage rendered to their principles.
Bouvard and Pecuchet thought they should have been thanked for their present, or at least that an allusion should have been made to it; and they unbosomed themselves on the subject to Faverges and the doctor.
What mattered wretched considerations of that sort? Vaucorbeil was delighted with the Revolution; so was the count. He execrated the Orleans family. They would never see them any more! Good-bye to them! All for the people henceforth! And followed by Hurel, his factotum, he went to meet the cure.
Foureau was walking with his head down, between the notary and the innkeeper, irritated by the ceremony, as he was apprehensive of a riot; and instinctively he turned round towards Placquevent, who, together with the captain, gave vent to loud regrets at Girbal's unsatisfactoriness and the sorry appearance of his men.
Some workmen passed along the road singing the "Marseillaise," with Gorju among them brandishing a stick; Petit was escorting them, with fire in his eyes.
"I don't like that!" said Marescot. "They are making a great outcry, and getting too excited."
"Oh, bless my soul!" replied Coulon; "young people must amuse themselves."
Foureau heaved a sigh. "Queer amusement! and then the guillotine at the end of it!" He had visions of the scaffold, and was anticipating horrors.
Chavignolles felt the rebound of the agitation in Paris. The villagers subscribed to the newspapers. Every morning people crowded to the post-office, and the postmistress would not have been able to get herself free from them had it not been for the captain, who sometimes assisted 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 Europe against us. No imprudence!"
And everybody approving of this, the two Poles held their tongues.
On another occasion, Vaucorbeil spoke in favour of Ledru-Rollin's circulars.
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 political cases?"
"Faith," replied Foureau, "they would like to abolish everything. However, who knows? the tenants are already showing themselves very exacting."
"So much the better! The proprietors," according to Pecuchet, "had been too much favoured. He that owns an estate----"
Foureau and Marescot interrupted him, exclaiming that he was a communist.
"I--a communist!"
And all kept talking at the same time. When Pecuchet proposed to establish a club, Foureau had the hardihood to reply that they would never see such a thing at Chavignolles.
After this, Gorju demanded guns for the National Guard, the general opinion having fixed on him as instructor. The only guns in the place were those of the firemen. Girbal had possession of them. Foureau did not 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 the innkeeper 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 of the church. Gorju, in a blue smock-frock, with a neckcloth around his loins, went through the movements in an automatic fashion. When he gave the 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 and half-turns to the left; but the most pitiable sight was the schoolmaster: weak and of a slim figure, with a ring of fair beard around his neck, he staggered under the weight of his gun, the bayonet of which incommoded his neighbours.
They wore trousers of every colour, dirty shoulder-belts, old regimentals that were too short, leaving their shirts visible over their flanks; and each of them pretended that he had not the means of doing otherwise. A subscription was started to clothe the poorest of them. Foureau was niggardly, while women made themselves conspicuous. Madame Bordin gave five francs, in spite of her hatred of the Republic. M. de Faverges equipped a dozen men, and was not missing at the drill. Then he took up his quarters at the grocer's, and gave those who came in first a drink.
The powerful then began fawning on the lower class. Everyone went after the working-men. People intrigued for the favour of being associated with them. They became nobles.
Those of the canton were, for the most part, weavers; others worked in the 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 house for a drink.
FOOTNOTE:
[16] _La savate_--a military practice of beating with
an old shoe soldiers unskilful at drill.--TRANSLATOR.
But the peasants were more numerous, and on market days M. de Faverges would walk about the green, make inquiries as to their wants, and try to convert them to his own ideas. They listened without answering, like Pere Gouy, ready to accept any government so long as it reduced the taxes.
By dint of babbling, Gorju was making a name for himself. Perhaps they might send him into the Assembly!
M. de Faverges also was thinking of it, while seeking not to compromise himself.
The Conservatives oscillated between Foureau and Marescot, but, as the notary stuck to his office, Foureau was chosen--a boor, an idiot. The doctor waxed indignant. Rejected in the competition, he regretted Paris, and the consciousness of his wasted life gave him a morose air. A more distinguished career was about to open for him--what a revenge! He drew up a profession of faith, and went to read it to MM. Bouvard and Pecuchet.
They congratulated him upon it. Their opinions were identical with his. However, they wrote better, had a knowledge of history, and could cut as good a figure as he in the Chamber. Why not? But which of them ought to offer 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 of conduct.
This vertigo of deputyship had seized on others. The captain dreamed of it under his foraging-cap while puffing at his pipe, and the schoolmaster too in his school, and the cure also between two prayers, so that he sometimes surprised himself with his eyes towards heaven, in the act of saying, "Grant, O my God, that I may be a deputy!"
The doctor having received some encouragement, repaired to the house of Heurtaux, and explained to him what his chances were. The captain did not stand on ceremony about it. Vaucorbeil was known, undoubtedly, but little liked by his professional brethren, especially in the case of chemists. Everyone would bark at him; the people did not want a gentleman; his best patients would leave him. And, when he weighed these arguments, the physician regretted his weakness.
As soon as he had gone, Heurtaux went to see Placquevent. Between old soldiers there should be mutual courtesy, but the rural guard, devoted though he was to Foureau, flatly refused to help him.
The cure demonstrated to M. de Faverges that the hour had not come. It was necessary to give the Republic time to get used up.
Bouvard and Pecuchet represented to Gorju that he would never be strong enough to overcome the coalition of the peasants and the village shop-keepers, filled him with uncertainty, and deprived him of all confidence.
Petit, through pride, had allowed his ambition to be seen. Beljambe warned 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 unfriendly attitude about the guns, his opposition to the club, his reactionary views, his avarice; and even persuaded Gouy that he wished to bring back the old _regime_. Vague as was the meaning of this word to the peasant's mind, he execrated it with a hatred that had accumulated in the souls of his forefathers throughout ten centuries; and he turned all his relatives, 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 the mayor; and, the ground being thus cleared, Bouvard and Pecuchet, without any doubt, were likely to succeed.
They drew lots to know which would present himself. The drawing decided nothing, and they went to consult the doctor on the subject.
He had news for them: Flacardoux, editor of _Le Calvados_, had announced his candidature. The two friends had a keen sense of having been deceived. Each felt the other's disappointment more than his own. But politics had an exciting influence on them. When the election-day arrived they went to inspect the urns. Flacardoux had carried it!
M. de Faverges had fallen back on the National Guard, without obtaining the epaulet of commander. The people of Chavignolles contrived to get Beljambe nominated.
This favouritism on the part of the public, so whimsical and unforeseen, dismayed Heurtaux. He had neglected his duties, confining himself to inspecting the military operations now and then, and giving utterance to a few remarks. No matter! He considered it a monstrous thing that an innkeeper should be preferred to one who had been formerly a captain in the Imperial service, and he said, after the invasion of the Chamber on the 15th of May: "If the military grades give themselves away like that in 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 of gold, and Ledru-Rollin's royal orgies; and as the province pretends to know everything that happens in Paris, the inhabitants of Chavignolles had no doubt about these inventions, and gave credence to the most absurd reports.
M. de Faverges one evening came to look for the cure, in order to tell him that the Count de Chambord had arrived in Normandy.
Joinville, according to Foureau, had made preparations with his sailors to put down "these socialists of yours." Heurtaux declared that Louis Napoleon would shortly be consul.
The factories had stopped. Poor people wandered in large groups about the country.
One Sunday (it was in the early days of June) a gendarme suddenly started in the direction of Falaise. The workmen of Acqueville, Liffard, Pierre-Pont, and Saint-Remy were marching on Chavignolles. The sheds were shut up. The municipal council assembled and passed a resolution, to prevent catastrophes, that no resistance should be offered. The gendarmes were kept in, and orders were given to them not to show themselves. Soon was heard, as it were, the rumbling of a storm. Then the song of the Girondists shook the windows, and men, arm in arm, passed along the road from Caen, dusty, sweating, in rags. They filled up the entire space in front of the council chamber, and a great hurly-burly arose.
Gorju and two of his comrades entered the chamber. One of them was lean and wretched-looking, with a knitted waistcoat, the ribbons of which were hanging down; the other, black as coal--a machinist, no doubt--with hair like a brush, thick eyebrows, and old list shoes. Gorju, like a hussar, wore his waistcoat slung over his shoulder.
All three remained standing, and the councillors, seated round the table, which was covered with a blue cloth, gazed at their faces, pale from 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 would consider the matter directly; and when the comrades had gone out they discussed several suggestions.
The first was to have stones drawn.
In order to utilise the stones, Girbal proposed a road from Angleville to 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 a protection 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 were preparing charity workshops.
"Charity! Thanks!" cried Gorju. "Down with the aristocrats! We want the right to work!"
It was the question of the time. He made use of it as a source of popularity. He was applauded.
In turning round he elbowed Bouvard, whom Pecuchet had dragged to the spot, 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 orders for 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 them increased!"
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, or rather 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 plaguing us, these farce-actors!"
And he climbed up the steps, declaring that he would break open the door.
There he was met by Placquevent, with his right knee bent and his fists clenched:
"Advance one inch further!"
The machinist recoiled. The shouting of the mob reached the chamber. All arose with the desire to run away. The help from Falaise had not arrived. They bewailed the count's absence. Marescot kept twisting a pen; Pere Coulon groaned; Heurtaux lashed himself into a fury to make them 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, at the window in the middle, under the clock, Pecuchet made his appearance.
He had ingeniously gone up by the back-stairs, and, wishing to be like Lamartine, he began a harangue to the populace:
"Citizens!----"
But his cap, his nose, his frock-coat, his entire personality lacked distinction.
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 the recess 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 the decision of the council. Hurel had suggested his doing so.
The road from Tournebu would have a branch road in the direction of Angleville and leading towards the chateau of Faverges.
It was a sacrifice which the commune took upon itself in the interest of the working-men.
They dispersed.
When Bouvard and Pecuchet re-entered their house, women's voices fell upon their ears. The servants and Madame Bordin were breaking into exclamations, the widow's screams being the loudest; and at sight of them she cried:
"Ha! this is very fortunate! I have been waiting for you for the last three hours! My poor garden has not a single tulip left! Filth everywhere 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-mell over 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-cart was gnawing at a bunch of oleanders. The wheels, in grazing the flower borders, had bruised the box trees, broken a rhododendron, knocked down the dahlias; and clods of black muck, like molehills, embossed the green sward. Gouy was vigorously digging it up.
One day Madame Bordin had carelessly said to him that she would like to have it turned up. He set about the job, and, in spite of her orders to desist, went on with it. This was the way that he interpreted the right to 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 manual labour, and kept the manure. She was wise: the doctor's wife, and even the notary's, though of higher social position, respected her for it.
The charity workshops lasted a week. No trouble occurred. Gorju left the neighbourhood.
Meanwhile, the National Guard was always on foot: on Sunday, a review; military promenades, occasionally; and, every night, patrols. They disturbed the village. They rang the bells of houses for fun; they made their way into the bedrooms where married couples were snoring on the same bolster; then they uttered broad jokes, and the husband, rising, would go and get them a glass each. Afterwards, they would return to the guard-house to play a hundred of dominoes, would consume a quantity of cider there, and eat cheese, while the sentinel, worn out, would keep opening the door every other minute. There was a prevailing absence of discipline, owing to Beljambe's laxity.
When the days of June came, everyone was in favour of "flying to the relief 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 captain grumbled: "They did not want me; so much the worse!"--and Bouvard had the wisdom to put restraint on Pecuchet.
The patrols throughout the country were extended farther. They were panic-stricken by the shadow of a haystack, or by the forms of branches. On one occasion the entire National Guard turned and ran. In the moonlight 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 halting under 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 a distance, for he might have a pistol or a tomahawk; but when they were in the village, within reach of help, the dozen men of the company rushed 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 by the light of the candle that was burning on top of the stove they at last recognised Gorju.
A wretched greatcoat of lasting was flapping over his shoulders. His toes could be seen through the holes in his boots. Scratches and bruises stained his face with blood. He was fearfully emaciated, and rolled his eyes about like a wolf.
Foureau, coming up speedily, questioned him as to how he chanced to be under the beech trees, what his object was in coming back to Chavignolles, and also as to the employment of his time for the past six weeks.
"That is no business of yours. I have my liberty."
Placquevent searched him to find out whether he had cartridges about him.
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 a word to say for me?"
Pecuchet hung down his head, as if he had a suspicion against his innocence.
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 civil tribunal to three months' imprisonment for the misdemeanour of language tending towards the destruction of society. From Falaise he wrote to his former employers to send him soon a certificate of good life and morals, and as their signature required to be legalised by the mayor or the deputy, they preferred to ask Marescot to do this little service for them.
They were introduced into a dining-room, decorated with dishes of fine old earthenware; a Boule clock occupied the narrowest shelf. On the mahogany table, without a cloth, were two napkins, a teapot and finger-glasses. Madame Marescot crossed the room in a dressing-gown of blue cashmere. She was a Parisian who was bored with the country. Then the 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, although their _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 down between innocent and guilty phrases? The thing that just now is prohibited may be subsequently applauded." And he censured the harshness with which the insurgents had been treated.
Marescot naturally rested his case on the necessity of protecting society, the public safety--the supreme law.
"Pardon me!" said Pecuchet, "the right of a single individual is as much entitled to respect as those of all, and you have nothing to oppose to him but force if he turns your axiom upon yourself."
Instead of replying, Marescot lifted his brows disdainfully. Provided that he continued to draw up legal documents, and to live among his plates, in his comfortable little home, injustices of every kind might present themselves without affecting him. Business called him away. He excused himself.
His theory of public safety excited their indignation. The Conservatives now talked like Robespierre.
Another matter for astonishment: Cavaignac was flagging; the Garde Mobile was exposing itself to suspicion. Ledru-Rollin had ruined himself even in Vaucorbeil's estimation. The debates on the Constitution interested nobody, and on the 10th of December all the inhabitants of Chavignolles voted for Bonaparte. The six millions of votes made Pecuchet grow cold with regard to the people, and Bouvard and he proceeded to study the question of universal suffrage.
As it belongs to everybody, it cannot possess intelligence. One ambitious man will always be the leader; the others will follow him like a flock of sheep, the electors not being compelled even to know how to read. This was the reason, in Bouvard's opinion, that there were so many frauds at presidential elections.
"None," replied Bouvard; "I believe rather in the gullibility of the people. Think of all who buy the patent health-restorer, the Dupuytren pomatum, the Chatelaine's water, etc. Those boobies constitute the majority of the electorate, and we submit to their will. Why cannot an income of three thousand francs be made out of rabbits? Because the overcrowding of them is a cause of death. In the same way, through the mere fact of its being a multitude, the germs of stupidity contained in it 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 apprised them of the expedition to Rome. We should not attack the Italians, but we should require guaranties. Otherwise our influence would be destroyed. Nothing would be more legitimate than this intervention.
Bouvard opened his eyes wide. "On the subject of Poland, you expressed a contrary 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," "We calculate clearly," represented a group.
Bouvard and Pecuchet were disgusted with the minority quite as much as with the majority. The common people, in short, were just the same as the aristocracy.
The right of intervention appeared dubious to them. They sought for its principles in Calvo, Martens, Vattel; and Bouvard's conclusion was this:
"There may be intervention to restore a prince to the throne, to emancipate a people, or, for the sake of precaution, in view of a public danger. In other cases it is an outrage on the rights of others, an abuse 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 the Parisian middle class got two printing-offices sacked. The great party of 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 from one end of the green to the other, and talked over the events of the day. The principal business was the distribution of pamphlets. The titles did not lack attractiveness: "God will be pleased with it"; "The sharing"; "Let us get out of the mess"; "Where are we going?" The finest things among them were the dialogues in the style of villagers, with oaths 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 the prefects; and they had just crammed Proudhon into St. Pelagie--gigantic triumph!
The trees of liberty were generally torn down. Chavignolles obeyed orders. Bouvard saw with his own eyes the fragments of his poplar on a wheelbarrow. They helped to warm the gendarmes, and the stump was offered 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 were passing in front of his door. Next day he presented himself at their residence.
At the end of the week they returned his visit.
The day was declining. The brats had just gone home, and the schoolmaster, in half-sleeves, was sweeping the yard. His wife, with a neckerchief tied round her head, was suckling a baby. A little girl was hiding herself behind her petticoat; a hideous-looking child was playing on the ground at her feet. The water from the washing she had been doing in 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 by not ordaining fraternity.
"Then try to establish it."
As there was no longer daylight, Petit rudely ordered his wife to carry a candle to his study.
The lithograph portraits of the orators of the Left were fastened with pins 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 down upon. He made a show of laughing. But want had laid its traces on his cheeks, and his narrow temples indicated the stubbornness of a ram, an intractable pride. He never would yield.
"Besides, see what sustains me!"
It was a pile of newspapers on a shelf, and in feverish phrases he explained the articles of his faith: disarmament of troops, abolition of the magistracy, equality of salaries, a levelling process by which the golden age was to be brought about under the form of the Republic, with a dictator at its head--a fellow that would carry this out for us briskly!
Then he reached for a bottle of aniseed cordial and three glasses, in order to propose the toast of the hero, the immortal victim, the great Maximilian.
On the threshold appeared the black cassock of the priest. Having saluted those present in an animated fashion, he addressed the schoolmaster, 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 his reprimand:
"It is supposed that you are rather negligent 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 than the 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 his remuneration. 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 the fifteenth of March assigns us to the superintendence of primary education."
"Ah! I know that well," cried the schoolmaster. "It is given even to colonels of gendarmes. Why not to the rural guard? That would complete the 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 a little reasonable. Here is Easter close at hand; I hope you will show an 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 jaw quivered.
"Silence, unhappy man! silence! And it is his wife who looks after the church 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 by the journey, and they would again find down there, under different names, the same cure, the same superintendent, the same prefect--all, even to the minister, were like links in a chain dragging him down. He had already had one warning--others would follow. After that?--and in a kind of hallucination he saw himself walking along a high-road, a bag on his back, those whom he loved by his side, and his hand held out towards a post-chaise.
At that moment his wife was seized with a fit of coughing in the kitchen, 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, congratulated themselves on their independence. The power of the clergy terrified them.
It was now employed for the purpose of strengthening public order. The Republic was about to disappear.
Three millions of electors found themselves excluded from universal suffrage. The security required from newspapers was raised; the press censorship was re-established. It was even suggested that it should be put in force against the fiction columns. Classical philosophy was considered dangerous. The commercial classes preached the dogma of material 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 the Legislative Assembly, and his re-election for the general council of Calvados was certain beforehand.
He thought proper to invite the leading personages in the district to a luncheon.
The vestibule in which three servants were waiting to take their overcoats, the billiard-room and the pair of drawing-rooms, the plants in china vases, the bronzes on the mantel-shelves, the gold wands on the panelled walls, the heavy curtains, the wide armchairs--this display of 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 with meats in silver dishes, together with the row of glasses before each plate, the side-dishes here and there, and a salmon in the middle, every face brightened up.
The party numbered seventeen, including two sturdy agriculturists, the sub-prefect of Bayeux and one person from Cherbourg. M. de Faverges begged his guests to excuse the countess, who was absent owing to a headache; and, after some commendations of the pears and grapes, which filled four baskets at the corners, he asked about the great news--the project of a descent on England by Changarnier.
Heurtaux desired it as a soldier, the cure through hatred of the Protestants, and Foureau in the interests of commerce.
"You are giving expression," said Pecuchet, "to the sentiments of the Middle 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 with a 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 time the parliamentary system is sapping the foundations."
A joint of roast beef made its appearance, and for some minutes nothing was heard save the sounds made by forks and moving jaws, and by the servants crossing the floor with the two words on their lips, which they repeated 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, towards whom we bear certain resemblances, Solon checkmated the democrats by raising the electoral census."
"It would be better," said Hurel, "to suppress the Chamber: every disorder 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 absolute control, even to the extent of prohibiting travellers from using their roads, if they thought fit.
And whilst the dishes followed one another--fowl with gravy, lobsters, mushrooms, salads, roast larks--many topics were handled: the best system of taxation, the advantages of the large system of land cultivation, the abolition of the death penalty. The sub-prefect did not forget to cite that charming witticism of a clever man: "Let Messieurs the Assassins begin!"
Bouvard was astonished at the contrast between the surroundings and the remarks that reached his ears; for one would think that the language used should always harmonise with the environment, and that lofty ceilings should be made for great thoughts. Nevertheless, he was flushed at dessert, and saw the fruit-dishes as if through a fog. Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Malaga were amongst the wines sent round. M. de Faverges, who knew the people he had to deal with, made the champagne flow. The guests, touching glasses, drank to his success at the election; and more than three hours elapsed before they passed out into the smoking-room, where coffee was served.
A caricature from _Charivari_ was trailing on the floor between some copies of the _Univers_. It represented a citizen the skirts of whose frock-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 the paddings of the furniture.
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 no longer.
"You are right," said the sub-prefect; "the form of government matters little."
"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 requires to be governed with a rod of iron."
All called for a deliverer. As they were going out, Bouvard and Pecuchet heard M. de Faverges saying to the Abbe Jeufroy:
"We must re-establish obedience. Authority perishes if it be made the subject 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. A moist wind was blowing, and as they walked over the dead leaves they breathed like men who had just been set free.
All that they had not found the opportunity of saying escaped from them in 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 with instruction on the subject of aesthetics, replied to their inquiries in a learned 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 was transmitted to his descendants, and the power of the king emanates from God.'
"'He is His image,' writes Bossuet. 'The paternal empire accustoms us to the domination of one alone. Kings have been made after the model of parents.'
"Locke refuted this doctrine: 'The paternal power is distinguished from the monarchic, every subject having the same right over his children that the monarch has over his own. Royalty exists only through the popular choice; and even the election was recalled at the ceremony of coronation, in which two bishops, pointing towards the king, asked both nobles 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 'change their constitution,' says Vattel; to 'revolt against injustice,' according to the contention of Glafey, Hotman, Mably, and others; and St. Thomas Aquinas authorises them to 'deliver themselves from a tyrant.' '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 throwing back 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 the inequalities of nature, and made him owner of the things he had in his possession."
"Where is the proof of the contract?"
"Nowhere! And the community does not offer any guaranty. The citizens occupy themselves exclusively with politics. But as callings are necessary, Rousseau is in favour of slavery. 'The sciences have destroyed the human race. The theatre is corrupting, money fatal, and the 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 of inheritance; all property movable and immovable forming a social fund, which should be worked on a hierarchical basis. The manufacturers are to govern the public fortune. But there is nothing to be afraid of; they will have as a leader the "one who loves the most."
One thing is lacking: woman. On the advent of woman depends the salvation of the world.
"I do not understand."
"Nor I."
And they turned to Fourierism:
"'All misfortunes come from constraint. Let the attraction be free, and harmony will be established.
"'In our souls are shut up a dozen leading passions: five egoistical, four animistic, and three distributive. The first class have reference to individuals, the second to groups, the last to groups of groups, or series, of which the whole forms a phalanx, a society of eighteen hundred persons dwelling in a palace. Every morning carriages convey the workers into the country, and bring them back in the evening. Standards are carried, festivities are held, cakes are eaten. Every woman, if she desires it, can have three men--the husband, the lover, and the procreator. For celibates, the Bayadere system is established----'"
"That fits me!" said Bouvard. And he lost himself in dreams of the harmonious world.
"'By the restoration of climatures, the earth will become more beautiful; by the crossing of races, human life will become longer. The clouds will be guided as the thunderbolt is now: it will rain at night in the cities so that they will be clean. Ships will cross the polar seas, thawed beneath the Aurora Borealis. For everything is produced by the conjunction of two fluids, male and female, gushing out from the poles, and the northern lights are a symptom of the blending of the planets--a prolific emission.'"
"This is beyond me!" said Pecuchet.
After Saint-Simon and Fourier the problem resolves itself into questions of wages.
Louis Blanc, in the interests of the working class, wishes to abolish external commerce; Lafarelle to tax machinery; another to take off the drink duties, to restore trade wardenships, or to distribute soups.
Proudhon conceives the idea of a uniform tariff, and claims for the state 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 noted a number of passages, and, pointing them out, said:
"Read for yourself. They offer as examples to us the Essenes, the Moravian Brethren, the Jesuits of Paraguay, and even the government of prisons."
"'Amongst the Icarians breakfast was over in twenty minutes; women were delivered at the hospitals. As for books, it was forbidden to print them without the authorisation of the Republic.'"
"But Cabet is an idiot."
"Here, now, we have from Saint-Simon: 'The publicists should submit their works to a committee of manufacturers.'
"And from Pierre Leroux: 'The law will compel the citizens to listen to an orator.'
"And from Auguste Comte: 'The priests will educate the youth, will exercise supervision over literary works, and will reserve to themselves the power of regulating procreation.'"
These quotations troubled Pecuchet. In the evening, at dinner, he replied:
"I admit that there are absurdities in the works of the inventors of Utopias; nevertheless they deserve our sympathy. The hideousness of the world tormented them, and, in order to make it beautiful, they endured everything. Recall to mind More decapitated, Campanella put seven times to the torture, Buonarotti with a chain round his neck, Saint-Simon dying of want; many others. They might have lived in peace; but no! they marched on their way with their heads towards the sky, like heroes."
"Do you believe," said Bouvard, "that the world will change, thanks to the theories of some particular gentleman?"
"What does it matter?" said Pecuchet; "it is time to cease stagnating in selfishness. 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 shoulders and stomach kept shaking in harmony. Redder than the jams before them, with his napkin under his armpits, he kept repeating, "Ha! ha! ha!" in an 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 the end of his own apartment in an easy chair, without fire or candle, his cap drawn over his eyes. He was not unwell, but had given himself up to his own broodings.
When the quarrel was over they recognised that a foundation was needed for their studies--political economy.
They inquired into supply and demand, capital and rent, importation and prohibition.
One night Pecuchet was awakened by the creaking of a boot in the corridor. The evening before, according to custom, he had himself drawn all the bolts; and he called out to Bouvard, who was fast asleep.
They remained motionless under the coverlets. The noise was not repeated.
The servants, on being questioned, said they had heard nothing.
But, while walking through the garden, they remarked in the middle of a flower-bed, near the gateway, the imprint of a boot-sole, and two of the sticks used as supports for the trees were broken. Evidently some one had 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 to the grocer's shop.
Who should they see in the back shop, beside Placquevent, in the midst of 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 of literature it was not so manifest; and if comfort increases, the poetic side of life disappears.
Pecuchet, in order to bring home conviction on the point, took a piece of paper: "I trace across here an undulating line. Those who happen to travel over it, whenever it sinks, can no longer see the horizon. It rises again nevertheless, and, in spite of its windings, they reach the top. 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 the people, the dissolution of the Chamber, and the imprisonment of the deputies.
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 a seat.) "I came here simply out of courtesy towards you, and you are scarcely civil to-day."
And out she went, disgusted at their want of politeness.
The astonishing news had struck them dumb. Then they went about the village venting their indignation.
Marescot, whom they found surrounded by a pile of deeds, took a different 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, he laughed at them.
In the market-place they stopped Vaucorbeil.
The physician had got over all that. "You are very foolish to bother yourselves."
Foureau passed them by, remarking with a sly air, "The democrats are swamped."
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 at a window-pane, the schoolmaster quitted his class.
He thought it a good joke to have Thiers in prison. This would avenge the people.
"Ha! ha! my gentlemen deputies, your turn now!"
The volley of musketry on the boulevards met with the approval of the people of Chavignolles. No mercy for the vanquished, no pity for the victims! Once you revolt, you are a scoundrel!
"Let us be grateful to Providence," said the cure, "and under Providence to 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 from them to hold their tongues.
"Do you wish to know my opinion?" said Pecuchet. "Since the middle class is ferocious and the working-men jealous-minded, whilst the people, after all, accept every tyrant, so long as they are allowed to keep their snouts in the mess, Napoleon has done right. Let him gag them, the rabble, and exterminate them--this will never be too much for their hatred of right, their cowardice, their incapacity, and their blindness."
Bouvard mused: "Hey! progress! what humbug!" He added: "And politics, a nice 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 thunder amongst 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 her back, so that her blue stockings could be seen as high as the calf of her legs. Then, with a rapid movement, she raised her right arm, while she turned her head a little to one side; and Pecuchet, as he gazed at her, felt quite a new sensation, a charm, a thrill of intense delight. _