Renée Mauperin, a realistic novel

Front matter

Vzik V. A^ L^Sfe^ 0A J s

I I

E.&J.DE CONCOURT ji^aK?^

II

Charles Louis Mauperin was bom in 1787. Son of a barrister, who was renowned and honoured in Lorraine and the Barrois, he entered upon a military career at the age of sixteen, as a cadet at the Military School of Fontainebleau. Appointed sub-lieutenant in the 35th regiment of lineinfantry, afterwards lieutenant in the same corps, he distinguished himself in Italy by his extraordinary bravery At the battle of Pordenona, when already wounded, he was surrounded by a body of the enemy's cavalry, who called upon him to lay down his arms. He replied to their demand by an order to charge, killed with his own hand one of the horsemen who threatened him, and opened a passage with his men ; finally, he succumbed to numbers, and, receiving on his head two new sword cuts, he fell back in his blood, and was left fpr dead. Prom captain in the 2nd Mediterranean regiment he became chief aide-de-camp to General Roussel d'Hurbal, and with him went through the campaign in Russia, where he had his right shoulder broken by a shot the day after the battle of Moskova. At twentysix years of age, in 1813, he was an officer of the Legion of Honour, and in command of a squadron. In the army he was considered to have the finest future before him of any of tbe young superior officers, when the battle of Waterloo came to break his sword and his hopes. Put on half-pay, he entered, with Colonels Sauset and Maziau, into the Bonapartist conspiracy, known as the "Bazar Franqais." As a member of the directing committee, he was condemned to death by default, but was concealed by some friends, who helped him to escape to America.

During the voyage he did not know how to pass his time, and began to study for a travelling companion of his who was going to take his doctor's degree in America, and, on his arrival, he passed his examination in the other's place. He remained for two years in the United States, and at the end of that time, by the brotherly friendship and the high influence of some of his old comrades who had returned to active service, he obtained his pardon, and permission to return to France. lie came home, and took up his abode in the little town of Bourmont, in company of his mother, who inhabited a house there belonging to his family. This mother was an excellent old woman, such as the 18th century produced in the provinces, who was always ready with a joke, and was not afraid of a little taste of wine. Her son adored her. He found her suffering from an illness, on account of which her doctors had forbidden her any stimulants ; he gave up wine, liqueurs, and coffee, so as not to tempt her, and to alleviate her privation by sharing it. It was out of tenderness for her, out of respect for her desires as an invalid, that he took a wife. He married, without any strong inclination, a cousin of his own, who was pointed out to his choice by his mother as possessing a little bit of property, some land which marched with his own ; in fact, by all the ties which, in the country, bind and unite families.

After his mother's death, as nothing kept him in the little town where he felt his sphere was limited, and as he was forbidden to live in Paris, Monsieur Mauperin sold his house at Bourmont, and the property that he had in the neighbourhood, with the exception of a farm at Villacourt, r nd went to live with his young wife on a large property that he bought in the depths of the Bassigny, at Morimond. There were there some remains of the great abbey, a piece of ground worthy of the name which the monks had given it — Mort-au-monde (Dead to the world) — a corner of rural and magnificent nature, terminating in a lake of a hundred acres, and in a forest of oaks whose age was forgotten, fields enclosed in canals banked with freestone, where the fresh water ran embowered by trees, where there was a vegetation which had been abandoned since the Revolution, and which was as luxuriant as that of the back-woods, where there were springs in the shade, wild flowers, paths made by animals, and ruins of gardens upon ruins of buildings. Here and there some stones survived. The door remained, and the bench at which the soup used to be given away to beggars ; here the apse of a chapel without a roof, there the seven stages of the walls, like those of Montreuil. The pavilion at the entrance, built at the beginning of last century, was alone still standing entire, almost intact : it was there that Monsieur Mauperin established himself.

He lived there until 1830, solitary and lost in study, plunged in his books, and drawing therefrom an immense education, a vast store of learning of all kinds : filling his mind with the works of historians, philosophers, and politicians, and ransacking all the mechanical sciences. He never left his books but to take the air to freshen his head, or to fatigue his body by long walks of eighteen miles across the fields and woods. In the neighbourhood the people were accustomed to see him walk like this ; from afar off the peasants recognised his step, his long buttonedup overcoat, his great cavalry officer's legs, his head, which was always slightly bent, and the branch broken off a vine which served him for a walking-stick.

B

At election times only did Monsieur Mauperin leave his laborious and secluded life : then he appeared in every corner of the department. He drove about in a light cart, inflamed with the fire of his soldier's voice all meetings of electors, and ordered an onslaught upon all the Government candidates ; it was war over again to him. Then, the election over, he would leave Chaumont and come back to his daily avocations, and to the obscure tranquility of his studies. Two children were born to him, a boy in 1826, a girl in 1827. The Revolution of 1830 broke out ; he was returned to Parliament. He came into his new life full of American theories, which gave him a point of resemblance with Armand Carrel. His speeches, which were excited, to the point, soldierly, and full of matter, created a sensation. He became one of the inspirers of the National newspaper, 'of which he had been one of the founders, and primed it with articles attacking the budget and the management of the finances. The Tuileries made advances to him ; some of his old comrades, who had become aides-decamp of the new king, approached him with offers of a high military position, of an important command, of a future for which he was still young enough. He refused absolutely. In 1832 he signed the protest of the Opposition to the words, " subjects of the king," used by Monsieur de Montalivet, and he fought against the system until 1835.

That year his wife gave him a child, a little girl, whose arrival disturbed his whole being. His two first children had only caused him a cold joy, a happiness without diversion. Something was wanting in them which makes the delight of a father and the merriment of a fireside. They had both made themselves loved by Monsieur Mauperin, without being adored by him. The hope of the father that he would be gladdened by them had been disappointed.

Instead of the son of his dreams, a real baby, a little scamp, a little rascal, one of those pretty little devils in whom old soldiers find once more their own youth, and seem to hear again, as it were, the noise of gunpowder, Monsi eur Mau - perin h ad had to do with an orderly, well-behaved, litt le boy—- " a young lady ," as he said ; and it had been to hi m

a great cause of Sad" PSg, miyprl with mma ahartiRj that hi" heir was this little man who nnyftrjTrnfrfl his playthings. He had the same trouble with his daughter : she was one of those little girls who are born women. She seemed to play with him in order to amuse him. She had scarcely had any childhood. At five years old, when a gentleman came to see her father, she ran away to wash her hands. One had to kiss her only in certain places, and one would have said that she had come into the world with the fear of being rumpled by the caresses and love of her father.

All the tenderness of Monsieur Mauperin, which had been thus repressed, and which had been for a long time saving itself up and concentrating itself, went out to the cradle of the new-comer, whom he had christened Renee, after her mother, who bore that old Lorraine name. He passed his days in delicious nonsense with his little Renee. At every moment he took off her little cap to see her silky hair. He taught her to make little faces, which charmed him. He taught her to show how fat she was, by pinching with her little fingers the flesh of her little thighs. He would lie down with her on the carpet when she was rolling, half naked, with the pretty indifference of childhood. At night he would get up to look at her asleep, and passed hours in listening to the first breath of life, which is like the breathing of a flower. When she awoke, he came to catch her first smile — that smile of tiny girls which comes out of the night as out of Paradise. His happiness momentarily increased to delight : he seemed to love a little angel.

What fun he had with her at Morimond ! He used to drag her round the house in a little carriage, and would turn round, at every step, to see her laughing until she cried, the sun shining on her cheeks, nursing in her hand her little pink, supple, and crumpled-up foot. Or else he would carry her away with him on his long walks. He would go into a village, and make the child kiss her hand to the people who touched their hats to him, or he would go into a farm-house to exhibit the beautiful teeth of his little daughter. Often the child would fall asleep in his arms as in the arms of a nurse.

At other times he would carry her off into the forest, and there, under the trees full of nightingales, at the hours of the end of the day, when the voices of the woods are louder than those of the roads, he experienced ineffable happiness in hearing his baby, penetrated with all the sounds through which he was walking, by her little voice, murmuring and cooing, as if to answer the birds and the heavens which were singing to her.

Madame Mauperin, on the other hand, had not received this last daughter so warmly. She was a good woman and a good mother, but she was eaten up by the pride of provincial people — the pride of money. She had arranged to have two children ; the third was one too many, and put out her calculations for the two others, and especially did her coming nibble away a little of the fortune of the son. This little girl represented to her mother the division of the united lands, the necessity of sharing their wealth, and consequently a falling from their present position and a lessening of the importance of the family in the future.

Soon Monsieur Mauperin was allowed no rest: the mother of his children was perpetually assaulting the politician, reminding the father that it was his duty to look after the fortune of his children. She tried to detach him from his friends, his party, his fldelity^ to his ideas. She laughed at him for a simpleton whose scruples prevented him from making the most of his position. Every day the same scenes were enacted — attacks, entreaties, reproaches — the terrible battle of the fireside against the conscience of a member of the Opposition. At last Monsieur Mauperin begged his wife to allow him two months' respite for reflection: he also wished his Eenee to be rich. At the end of the two months he resigned his seat in Parliament, and came to La Briche to establish a sugar refinery.

Twenty years had passed since then. The children had grown up and the business had prospered. Monsieur Mauperin was making money fast out of his refinery. His son had been called to the bar. His elder daughter was married. Renee's portion was ready.

III

The party had returned to the ground-floor of the house In a corner of the drawing-room, hung with chintz and decorated with bouquets of wild flowers in little baskets fastened to the wall, Henry Mauperin, Denoisel, and Keverchon were talking. Near the chimney-piece, Madame Mauperin was receiving, with great demonstrations of affection, her son-in-law and her daughter, Monsieur and Madame Davarande, who had just arrived. She fancied herself obliged, Under existing circumstances, to put forth all her family tenderness, and to make an exhibition of her mother's heart.

The rustling caused by the embraces of Madame Mauperin and Madame Davarande was scarcely over, when a little, old gentleman, who had quietly entered the drawing-room, said, " How d'ye do ? " with his eyes to Madame Mauperin, as he passed before her, and went straight to the group to which Denoisel belonged.

This little, old man wore a black coat He had white whiskers, and carried a portfolio under his arm.

" Do you recognise that ? " said he to Denoisel, as he carried him off into a bow window, and half opened his portfolio under his eyes.

" That ? — I know nothing but that — it is the ' Mysterious Swing,' engraved after Lavreince."

The little man smiled : " Yes, but look at it."

And he again opened his portfolio, but only so that Denoisel could just get his nose into it.

"' An artist's proof, too — an artist's proof ! Do you understand ? "

" Perfectly."

" And with a margin, too ! It is a brilliant specimen — eh? But you may be sure the scoundrels did not make me a present of it ! They ran up the price ! — and it was a woman, too, who did it — "

'' Nonsense ! "

" Yes, a cocotte, too, who asked each time how much I had bid. That rascally auctioneer kept saying, ' It is madame's.' At last, at a hundred and thirty -five francs — oh, I would not have paid a penny more for it."

" I believe you — I wish I had known that, for I know a proof exactly like that at Spindler's the painter's, and with bigger margins, too. Spindler does not care about Louis XVI. I could have had it for the asking."

" Upon my word ! and an artist's proof like mine ? Are you quite sure qf that ? "

" An artist's proof before even — yes, it is in a less advanced state than your's. It is before "

And the phrase which Denoisel finished in the ear of the old man caused his face to brighten up with pleasure, and made his mouth water.

At this moment Monsieur Mauperin came into the drawing-room with his daughter. He had given her his arm. She, with her head thrown a little back, languid and coaxing, was leaning on his arm, and was gently rubbing her hair on his sleeve, like a child wanting to be carried.

" How are you ? " she said, kissing her sister. Then she put her forehead up to her mother, shook hands with her brother-in-law, and running to the man with the portfolio : " May I see, godfather ? "

" No, goddaughter, you are not old enough yet." And he gave her a little friendly tap on the cheek.

"Ah! the things that you buy are always like that," said Renee, turning her back on the old man, who began to tie up the strings of his portfolio with those knowing knots, familiar to the fingers of collectors of engravings.

" Well, what news has anyone got for me ? " suddenly exclaimed Madame Mauperin, as she turned towards her daughter. She had made Eeverchon take a chair quite close to her, so close that her gestures and her dress touched him, seemed to caress him. " You were carried away by the stream ? I am sure you were in danger ! Oh, that river ! I cannot understand how Monsieur Mauperin allows "

" Madame Mauperin," replied her husband, who with his daughter was turning over the leaves of an album on the table, " I allow nothing, I tolerate."

" Coward ! " said Mademoiselle Mauperin in a low voice to her father.

" But, mamma, I assure you," intervened Henry Mauperin, " I assure you there was no danger. They were carried a little way by the stream, and they preferred to hook themselves on to a boat to being carried down a mile or two. That is all. You see "

" You reassure me,'' said Madame Mauperin, upon whose countenance serenity had settled at each word of her son. " I know you are so careful. But do you see, Monsieur Eeverchon, our dear Renee is so careless ! I am always in terror about her ! Oh, see, her hair is still wet. Come here, and let me dry it."

" Monsieur Dardouillet ! " announced a servant.

" One of our neighbours,'' said Madame Mauperin to Reverchon in an undertone.

" Well, and how are you getting on ? " asked Monsieur

RENEE MAUPERIN. 2S

Mauperin of the new comer, as they shook hands.

" Pretty well, pretty well ; three hundred new stakes to-day."

" Three hundred ? "

" Three hundred. I think it will not be amiss. Do you see, from the greenhouse, I cut straight down to the piece of water, on account of the view. A slope of a foot and a half, not more. If we were on the ground I should not need to explain it to you. On the other side, you know, I go back one yard up the alley. When that is done, Monsieur Mauperin, do you know that there will not be an inch of my land that has not been turned up ? "

" But when do you mean to plant, Monsieur Dardouillet?" asked Mademoiselle Mauperin. " For three years now you have had workmen in your garden : are you never going to put in any trees ? "

" Oh, the trees, mademoiselle, are nothing. There is always time for them. The most important thing is, first, the plan of the ground, the slopes, and then, afterwards, the trees, if you like."

Some one had come in by a door opening from an inner apartment into the drawing-room. He had made his bow without being noticed. He was present without attracting any attention. His head was honest, and his hair tumbled like a pen-wiper. This was Monsieur Mauperin's cashier, Monsieur Bernard.

" Are we all here ? Has Monsieur Bernard come down ? Ah, there he is!" said Monsieur Mauperin when he noticed him. " Suppose you were to ring and order dinner, Madame Mauperin. These young people must be hungry."

The respect due to fresh appetites had passed away. Chatter followed the silence of a dinner, which begins with the noise of spoons in the soup plates.

\^' Monsieur Reverchon," began Madame Mauperin. She had seated the young man next to herself, on her right, and one would have said that her amiabilities were rubbing themselves against him. She heaped attentions and flatteries upon him. She had a smile spread over her whole face, and even her voice was not that of every-day ; it was a high treble voice, which she put on on occasions of great ceremony. Her eyes travelled perpetually from the young man to his plate, and from his plate to a servant. The mother had her eye upon a son-in-lawr)

" Monsieur Eeverchon, we recently met an acquaintance of yours, Madame de Bonnieres. She spoke most highly of you, most highly."

" 1 had the honour of meeting Madame de Bonnieres in Italy. I was even fortunate enough to be able to render her a slight service."

" Did you rescue her from brigands ? " cried Renee.

" No, mademoiselle, it was much less romantic. Madame de Bonnieres was in a difficulty about a hotel bill. She happened to be alone. I saved her from being too much robbed."

" I call that a story of robbers," said Renee.

" One might make a play out of it," said Denoisel, " and a new play — how the discount of a bill brought about a marriage. And I have a pretty title for it : ' A Quarterof-an-hour's Romance — of Rabelais.' "

" Madame de Bonnieres is a very pleasant person," continued Madame Mauperin. " I think her face — Do you know her, Monsieur Barousse ? " added she, turning towards Renee's godfather.

" Oh, certainly, madame ; she is very agreeable."

" Godpapa, how can you ? — she looks like a satyr," said Renee. And as soon as the word had left her lips, and seeing people smile, she felt herself become scarlet. " Oh, only as to her head, I mean ! " she added hastily.

" That is what I call recovering oneself," said Denoisel."

" Did you stay long in Italy, Monsieur Reverchon ? " asked Monsieur Mauperin, to create a diversion.

" Six months."

" And your impression ? "

" It is a very interesting country, but a very uncomfortable one. I never could get accustomed to drink my coffee out of a glass."

" Travelling in Italy," said Henry Mauperin, " is to my mind the most melancholy thing — the least practical thing one can do. What agriculture ! What commerce ! On the occasion of a masked ball, in Florence, I asked a waiter in a restaurant if they were to remain open all night. ' Oh, no, sir; we should have too many people,' was his answer. That was not told to me ; I heard it mj self. That condemns a country. When one thinks of England, of that collective and individual power of initiative ; when one has seen, in London, the real genius for business of the English citizen; in Yorkshire, the returns of a large farm — there's a people indeed."

'' I agree with Henry,'' said Madame Davarande ; " England is so distinguished ! the people are so polite ! I like their plan of introducing people to each other. And then the way they have of giving you your change wrapped in paper. And besides their stuffs have so much character ! My husband brought me home a poplin gown from the Exhibition. Ah, mamma, you know that I have settled upon my new cloak. I have been to Alberic. It was very funny. Imagine, he has a cloak put on to your shoulders, and then he begins to walk round you, and with an ebony ruler he points out the places where it does not fit by just tapping you — there! like that! little, tiny taps that he gives— and at every touch of his ruler his assistant makes a little chalk mark. Oh, Alberic is a man with a great deal of character! Besides that, he stands alone. There is no one but him ; his cloaks are so smart. I recognised two by him at the races yesterday. But he does know how to charge."

" Oh, these men can make what they like," said Reverchon. " Edouard, my tailor, has just retired with a fortune of three millions."

" That is capital," said Monsieur Barousse ; "I am always delighted when I see things like that. It is the hard- workers who have the fortunes nowadays! It is the greatest revolution since the beginning of the world."

"Yes," said Denoisel, "a revolution which reminds one of the speech of the famous robber, Chapon : ' Robbery, your worship, is the finest commerce in the world.' "

" Were the races brilliant ? " asked Renee.

" There were a great many people at them," answered Madame Davarande.

" Very brilliant, mademoiselle," said Reverchon. " The Diana Stakes was a first-rate race. Cock's-tail, who 3tarted at 35, was beaten by Basilicate by two lengths. It was most exciting. The race for the Hack's Cup was very fine too, although the ground was rather hard."

" Who is that Russian lady who always drives four horses, Monsieur Reverchon ? " asked Madame Davarande.

" Madame de Rissleff. Her horses are splendid — of the pure Orloff breed."

" You really ought to become a member of the Jockey Club, Jules, for the sake of the races," said Madame Davarande, turning to her husband. " I think it is so common to have to herd with all the rest of the world.

Really, for a woman who respects herself there is nothing like the Jockey Club Stand."

" How admirably your cook has done these mushrooms," said Monsieur Barousse ; " she has surpassed herself. She is a real Francatelli. I must congratulate her as I go out."

" I thought you never ate mushrooms," answered Madame Mauperin.

" I never did in 1848. I did not until the 2nd of December. Do you think that during all that time the police had nothing else to do but to inspect mushrooms ? But since order has been restored "

" Henrietta," said Madame Mauperin to Madame Davarande, " I want to scold your husband ; he is neglecting us. It is almost three weeks since we saw you last, Monsieur Davarande."

" I am very sorry, dear mother, but if you knew all I have had to do. You know that I am very intimate with George. His father is very busy in Parliament. As President of the Cabinet, the work falls upon George. He has a thousand things to do which he can only pass on to friends and to persons whom he can trust. There was that first appearance at the opera ; it was a very important matter, and required negotiations, interviews — such goings and comings. It was necessary to avoid a conflict between the two ministries. Oh, I assure you that we have been very busy latterly. He is so pleasant that I cannot "

"So pleasant?" said Denoisel; "he ought at least to pay your cab hire. It is quite two years since he promised you a sub-prefectship."

" My dear Denoisel, it is much more difficult than you fancy ; and besides as I do not wish to go too far from Paris. Besides, I may tell you, between ourselves, that it is almost settled I have good reason to hope that within a month *

" Of whose first appearance are you talking ? " asked Barousse.

" Of Bradizzi's," said Davarande.

" Bradizzi ! wonderful ! said Reverchon. She dances with a lightness ! A few days ago I was in the director's box, on the stage : one could not hear her feet fall as she danced."

" We expected to see you last night, Henry," said Madame Davarande to her brother.

" I was at my debating society," said Henry.

" Henry has been appointed secretary," said Madame Mauperin, with pride.

" Ah," said Denoisel, " your Aguesseau debating society. Does that still go on, your little talkey-talkey ? How many members have you ? "

" Two hundred."

" And all statesmen ? It is alarming ! And upon what had you to report ? "

" On the National Guard Bill."

" You refuse yourself nothing," said Denoisel.

"I am sure that you do not belong to the National Guard, Denoisel," said Monsieur Barousse,

" Certainly not."

" But yet it is an institution."

" So the drummer -boys sav, Monsieur Barousse."

" And I would bet that you never vote."

" On no account."

" Denoisel, I am sorry to say it, you are a bad citizen. I am not angry with you, it is in your blood, but the fact remains." —

" How a bad citizen ? "

" Well you are always in opposition to the laws."

" Yes, you. Without going back very far, I -will give you an instance, your uncle Frederick's money: the inheritance that you left to his natural children."

" Well ? "

" That is what I call an illegal, a culpable, a deplorable action. What says the law? It is clear; it says that children born out of wedlock cannot inherit. You were not unaware of that; I had told you, your solicitor had told you, the code told you What do you do ? you make over the property to the children ! You send the code, the spirit of the law, everything, in fact, to the right about! But, Denoisel, to abandon your uncle's fortune in that manner is pandering to bad habits ; it is an encouragement to "

"Monsieur Barousse; I know your feelings upon that subject. But what would you have ? When I saw those three wretched little boys, I said to myself that the cigars I bought with their money would never taste good. No one is perfect."