wicker carriages and covered chaises brought divers persons of great
distinction, for there were no cabs or omnibuses at Saint-Amand, and
everybody could not afford a handsome turnout. However, there were a few
chars-à-bancs and a few pretty cabriolets to be seen in that crowd of
carriages; and the persons who alighted from them cast patronizing
glances upon those who arrived in chaises; vanity is present at all
festivities, but in the provinces above all it makes us poor weak
mortals giddy.
The La Pincerie family arrived in a carriage half-way between a city and
a country vehicle: it was a huge cabriolet, not unlike that generally
called a _coucou_, the lower part being of wicker, and the top of
oilcloth; it might in a crowd have passed for the carriage of a
merchant of Poissy; but Monsieur de la Pincerie declared that he would
not exchange it for the most modern landau, because it descended to him
from his ancestors; and from the leanness of the one horse which drew
it, one might have been tempted to believe that the poor beast also had
served the marquis’s ancestors.
Monsieur de la Pincerie was a man of about sixty, almost six feet tall,
and exceedingly thin; he wore a queue and his hair was powdered; his
yellow, wrinkled face almost always wore an expression of arrogance and
disdain; he rarely passed two minutes without coughing and
expectorating, but he did it all with a gravity which caused the people
about him to believe that not everybody in the world could spit as he
could.
A little man with squinting eyes, red hair, a blue nose, and red ears,
was the second person to alight from the carriage; he had not put his
foot to the ground before he began to smile and show teeth which would
have put those of a horse to shame. This gentleman, with whom they had
not as yet succeeded in doing anything, and for whom they were still
trying to find a place, although he was nearly fifty-five, was the
marquis’s brother; he was called Mignon, a pet name which had been given
to him when he was a child, and which it seemed to be his destiny to
bear all his life. After smiling like a wild boar, while his brother
expectorated upon one of the greased poles, Mignon stepped forward and
offered his hand to a young lady, who leaped from the carriage, saying
to her uncle:
"It isn’t worth while, I prefer to get out alone."
This young lady, who alighted so gracefully, was the marquis’s younger
daughter, Mademoiselle Cornélie; she was twenty-seven years old, tall
and well-built; her face was regular and rather distinguished, but her
manner was imperious and her eyes, which she very rarely lowered, seemed
intent upon commanding homage, and their expression indicated that she
received it simply as a tribute due to her.
After Mademoiselle Cornélie came her sister, who was a widow, named
Madame de Hautmont, or simply Eudoxie; she was perhaps five or six years
older than Mademoiselle Cornélie; she was pretty, but she lessened her
attractions by grimaces and a pretentious manner; her dress was always
so extravagantly elaborate as to be ridiculous; she was saturated with
perfumery, and she always carried a bouquet in one hand and a phial of
salts in the other; the least thing made her faint and sick. She, far
from alighting from the carriage alone, required three persons to assist
her; but at the moment that her foot touched the ground, she spied
François and the two scullions, whose weapons were pointed in her
direction.
"Oh! mon Dieu! what is that?" cried Madame de Hautmont, throwing herself
into her father’s arms. "Are they going to fire at us? Why, this is
abominable! I can’t endure the sight of firearms!"
Robineau had walked forward to meet the La Pincerie family; he bowed
respectfully to the father, shook hands with the uncle, smiled at the
young lady, and reassured her sister, crying:
"Monsieur Férulus, pray tell my people not to aim their guns at
everybody! Do not be afraid, mesdames; it is a surprise, it’s for the
fête."
"What! do you mean to say that there will be guns fired at your fête,
monsieur?"
"There will be all the firing that is possible, madame! But there will
be no one shot; it is just for a joke, and to amuse you; that is all."
After escorting the La Pincerie family into the large salon, where
Alfred and Edouard assisted him to do the honors, Robineau outdid
himself in his endeavors to receive all his guests gracefully. There was
the notary, who alighted with his wife from a dainty cabriolet; there
was a wealthy paper manufacturer, who brought his wife, his three
daughters, his two sons and his two nieces in his char-à-bancs; there
were the Gérards, who alone filled both seats of their carriage, and who
could not walk arm in arm, because their hips made it impossible; there
was Monsieur le Chevalier de Tantignac, who could not say two words
without bringing in a falsehood, and who arrived on foot, in silk short
clothes, with spurs on his shoes and a hunting crop in his hand, to give
the impression that he had come on horseback; lastly, there were the
government officials, the leading merchants, the important personages of
the district, who had one and all accepted Monsieur de la Roche-Noire’s
invitation, for opportunities for enjoyment being more rare in the
provinces, one eagerly seizes all that offer.
The company assembled in the immense salon on the first floor; they eyed
one another, they scrutinized one another from head to foot, they passed
the ladies’ costumes in review, they made unkind remarks in undertones
and complimentary ones aloud. Robineau went from one to another, played
the gallant with the ladies, and smiled at everybody; but he addressed
his homage most frequently to Mademoiselle Cornélie de la Pincerie,
although ever since her entrance into the salon, Mademoiselle Cornélie
had paid much more attention to Alfred than to the master of the house;
while for her part Eudoxie cast languishing glances at Edouard.
On entering the salon, Monsieur le Marquis de la Pincerie had thrown
himself into a big easy-chair in which he stretched himself out as if
he proposed to go to sleep, extending his long legs in such a way that
everybody was obliged to make a détour in order to pass him; the marquis
at once began to cough and expectorate contemptuously in the midst of
the salon, glancing at everybody as a sultan might glance at his slaves.
Uncle Mignon, on the contrary, had taken a seat modestly behind his
niece Cornélie and was arranging the upper part of her sleeves, which
had become a little rumpled in the carriage. The other guests stood
about in groups or watched the preparations for the fête from the
windows. Monsieur Berlingue strolled about the salon, scrutinizing
everybody with a sly expression, listening to what was said, and trying
to guess what was not said. The Chevalier de Tantignac, who was the last
to enter the salon, contrived to catch his spurs in a lady’s dress, so
that he might secure for himself the pleasure of exclaiming:
"How careless I am! I forgot to take off my spurs. Oh! I beg you to
excuse me, madame, but I am so accustomed to being in the saddle."
"What have you done with your steed, pray?" said Monsieur Berlingue; "I
didn’t see him when you came into the courtyard."
"I dismounted a few yards from the gate to avoid accidents, because my
horse has a horrible trick of rearing; then I did as I always do, I
struck him twice across the flank, and he at once trotted back alone to
his stable. He is trained to do that, he is a pupil of Franconi.--But I
must make haste to relieve myself of this equestrian apparatus!"
"Please pull my belt up a little, uncle. That’s right; now put a pin in
there.--These carriages disarrange one’s dress terribly."
As she said this, Mademoiselle Cornélie glanced at Alfred, and seemed to
demand the compliment which what she had just said invited; but it did
not occur to Alfred to bestow it upon her. In his stead, Robineau picked
up the gauntlet, crying:
"The carriage might do its worst, it could not prevent you from being
charming!"
Mademoiselle Cornélie, after smiling at Robineau, looked after Alfred
who had gone to speak to some other ladies.
"It is certain," said Madame de Hautmont, playing with her bouquet,
"that someone ought to invent a different method of transportation from
these carriages. A lady cannot alight from one of them without being
jarred from head to foot. Uncle Mignon, give me a stool to put my feet
on."
Uncle Mignon dropped his niece Cornélie’s sleeves to find a stool for
his niece Eudoxie, while Monsieur de la Pincerie exclaimed angrily:
"It seems to me, mesdames, that my chariot is hung perfectly, and that
there is no ground for complaint."
"Oho! he calls his _coucou_ a chariot!" whispered Monsieur Berlingue in
the paper manufacturer’s ear; while Monsieur Gérard exclaimed:
"Well, well, mesdames, I see that you will soon be carried in
palanquins, as in Asia."
"But one must be very comfortable in them," said Eudoxie, glancing at
Edouard.
"I favor palanquins, too," said Madame Gérard.
"If she should ever get into one," said Berlingue in an undertone, "I
doubt whether she could find men strong enough to carry her."
"As a general rule," said a lady who had not yet spoken, "those men in
the East are great inventors."
"Fie! madame, fie!" said another lady, "they are monsters! they have
more than one wife at a time."
"What is that you are saying about the men of the East?" cried the
Chevalier de Tantignac, returning to the salon; "I know something about
them; I spent a long time in Turkey; my doctor ordered me there. I had
such a superabundance of health that my doctor said to me: ‘Go to
Turkey, my friend, and buy yourself a harem at once; if you don’t, you
are a dead man!’"
The ladies put their fans in front of their faces in order to laugh at
the chevalier, who had not at all the appearance of a Turk, when
Monsieur Férulus entered the salon to ask Robineau if it were time to
begin the fête. At sight of Férulus, Madame de Hautmont uttered a
shriek, and clung to Edouard, saying:
"Mon Dieu! what on earth is that?"
"That is the manager of the fête, madame," said Edouard.
"But he made my eyes smart terribly! I thought that either the sun or
the moon had entered the room. Pray, what has the man got on?"
"It is his buttons, which are so brilliant."
"Ah! you must agree that when a man wears such buttons, he ought at
least to give people some warning."
"It certainly is difficult to look at that gentleman without squinting,"
said Monsieur Berlingue.
Monsieur Férulus darted out of the room again like an arrow, and soon
musket shots announced the beginning of the fête. The noise of the
fusillade almost made Eudoxie ill; but she took pains to fall into the
arms of Edouard, who was beginning to be bored by her fainting spells,
but who could not, however, avoid offering her his arm. Everybody ran
out upon the balcony, and to the windows, whence they could see the
sports which were to take place in the courtyard. Uncle Mignon alone
remained behind, for it was necessary to find two pins for his niece
Cornélie, and to fetch a glass of water to restore his other niece to
consciousness. The peasants from the neighborhood, who had received
permission to attend the fête, were drawn up on two sides of the
courtyard. The servants were under the balcony; even Mademoiselle Cheval
had left her kitchen to enjoy the sports, and especially to find out
what was to be done with the greased poles, which aroused her
curiosity.--Meanwhile the orchestra, which was supposed to play, did not
begin, because the blind man, who was terribly afraid of the musket
shots, had crawled under the bench during the discharge, and persisted
in refusing to come out, although Férulus exhausted himself in arguing
to prove that he was in no danger.
The company waited for the performance to begin. Robineau leaned over
the balcony and shouted to Férulus:
"Why don’t you begin? We are waiting."
And Monsieur Férulus, who was on the point of coming to blows with the
first violin, shouted back:
"You know very well that it begins with foot races in the garden. Go and
walk there with the ladies, monseigneur."
But the ladies were tired by their ride and did not care to walk.
Moreover, they were impatient to witness the sports. François ran to
assist Férulus to pull the blind man out from under the bench. At last
the music struck up, and six tall Auvergnats, nude from the head to the
waist, appeared in the arena arranged in the middle of the courtyard.
The ladies started in surprise at sight of the singular costume of the
combatants; Madame de Hautmont had another slight attack of faintness;
but Monsieur Férulus, who had ascended the stoop, cried:
"Gymnastic sports after the pattern of those of Greece and Rome."
"Mesdames," said Robineau, "it is after the pattern of the ancients;
consequently there is nothing to offend your delicacy."
"To be sure, it is a tournament!" said Monsieur de la Pincerie.
"Precisely, a Greek and Roman tournament."
"A tournament!" said Uncle Mignon, standing on tiptoe. "Oho! the deuce!
Then these half-naked fellows are knights! I understand, I understand."
"I am strongly inclined to request some guaranty for the rest of their
bodies," observed Monsieur Berlingue to one of his neighbors, while
Madame Gérard, gazing at the six Auvergnats with all her eyes,
exclaimed:
"Those fellows are well-built! Monsieur Gérard, you ought to appear as a
gladiator some time; you would be superb."
Férulus gave the signal by striking the rail with a stick and calling:
"We begin with the throwing of the discus. Strike up, orchestra, a
warlike tune."
The orchestra began the air of Marlboro’, which was the most warlike
tune that the blind man knew, and the Auvergnats stepped forward, each
holding in his hand a Brie cheese, which represented the discus which he
was to throw, and which at a distance looked rather like the ancient
quoit. The athletes hurled their cheeses with much skill; the target was
below the stoop upon which Férulus stood with solemn face. The three
cheeses approached but did not quite reach the point necessary to be
declared a winner, and the company standing on the balcony and at the
windows, found that that particular sport exhaled an odor which was far
from balsamic. But a fourth athlete appeared; he was of a more muscular
build than his antagonists; he held in his hand a so-called discus, of
formidable size and thickness, and exclaimed with a contemptuous glance
at those who had already thrown theirs:
"You fellows couldn’t throw any farther than that! Bah! _Sac_--f----!
See how prettily I’ll put you out of the game!"
"The athlete’s language is decidedly forcible!" said Monsieur Berlingue;
and Robineau leaned over and shouted to Férulus:
"Tell them not to talk! Let them content themselves with pantomime."
"Monseigneur," said Férulus, "in all times, gladiators have provoked and
stimulated one another by insults; even the knights of old did not spare
epithets during the combat."
"Mesdames, that is the language of the knights of old," said Robineau;
"you mustn’t let it frighten you."
Meanwhile, the last athlete raised his right hand, on the palm of which
rested the discus; he threw his body back, then hurled the discus with
all his strength, and the cheese, passing the target, struck Monsieur
Férulus full in the face.
All the ladies shrieked aloud, saying:
"Mon Dieu! He is wounded,--killed perhaps! The quoit struck him in the
head!"
The librarian was suffocated for a moment by the blow, but the cheese
had broken in halves, leaving upon his face some traces of its passage;
and he soon recovered himself, drew out a handkerchief, wiped his face,
passed his tongue over his lips, and cried:
"He is the winner; he threw beyond the mark; but he who can do more, can
do less.--Sound, trumpets!"
The trumpets were represented by the violins; the Auvergnats uttered
deafening shouts, the ladies produced their salts, and Monsieur de
Tantignac observed:
"Ah! the discuses were of cheese! What a sell! I’ll wager that I could
throw one into the moon!"
"Uncle Mignon, find me some cologne, I implore you," said Eudoxie,
hanging upon Edouard’s arm, "for this sport smells altogether too much
like a barnyard."
"You are not accustomed to it, mesdames, you will have many others!"
said Robineau, who believed that everybody was infatuated by what had
just been seen; and he timidly took the end of Mademoiselle Cornélie’s
little finger, which she abandoned to him, apparently without perceiving
the rapture with which he squeezed it.
Monsieur Férulus, not observing that there were still some fragments of
cheese upon his forehead and ears, had returned to his place, and once
more tapped the rail with his stick, crying:
"The foot race, after the pattern of Hippomenes and Atalanta; with
sticks instead of the golden apples, which will be vastly more natural."
Immediately, the Auvergnats began to race about the courtyard, and those
who fell behind threw sticks between the legs of their comrades, to
cause them to fall, so that they might reach the goal first. This game
came to an end without accident; but the Chevalier de Tantignac cried:
"I don’t see anything wonderful in running as these peasants do; I can
go six leagues on one foot! That’s rather a different thing!"
"Wrestling and boxing contests!" cried Monsieur Férulus; whereupon the
Auvergnats set about throwing one another down; but the peasants, being
accustomed to this last form of exercise, showed more pride and
obstinacy, and did their utmost to overthrow their antagonists. At such
a game, tempers are easily aroused; from struggles they passed to
insults, from insults to blows, and already some faces were bruised and
some noses bleeding.
"Enough! enough!" cried the ladies, in no wise amused by that spectacle.
"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire, make those wretches stop!"
"Mesdames," cried Férulus, "when the gladiators fought at Rome, at least
half of them always remained upon the field."
"But, monsieur, we are not Romans, thank heaven! And we take no pleasure
in seeing men hammer one another!"
To comply with the wishes of the ladies, Robineau ordered that the
combatants be separated, although Monsieur de la Pincerie declared that
it reminded him of the bull fights he had seen at Madrid. Two
Auvergnats, more obstinate than the others, refused to desist; but at
last François and the other servants succeeded in driving them onto the
lawn, where they left them to fight it out.
Monsieur Férulus next announced that the time had come to pass from the
serious to the gallant; and the servants appeared with baskets filled
with bouquets for the ladies.
"Ah! good!" said Madame de Hautmont; "this is more agreeable."
"And it doesn’t smell of cheese," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"Why! why, there is a paper in my bouquet," said Madame Gérard.
"A paper, madame!" said Monsieur Gérard, approaching his wife as near as
his paunch permitted.
"I have one too," said Eudoxie.
"And I--and I too," said each lady.
Cornélie opened the paper which was in her bouquet and read:
"‘Vos attraits charment les cœurs,
Vous avez grâce et jeunesse;
La plus douce des faveurs
Est de vous aimer sans cesse.’"[9]
"That is extremely pretty!" said Monsieur de la Pincerie, expectorating
upon the villagers in the courtyard.
"And it is perfectly suited to the person to whom it is addressed," said
Alfred to Mademoiselle Cornélie, who looked at him in a way to force him
to say something.
"It sounds to me like the mottoes in bonbons," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"I have a poem, too," said Eudoxie; "let me see--Why, it’s just like my
sister’s; here, look, monsieur."
Edouard looked at the lines which she handed him and said:
"It must be that he thought, madame, that the same attractions would be
found in all the members of the same family."
"Ah! what you say is very gallant; but it seems to me that my face is of
an entirely different type from my sister’s."
"Let’s see my poem," said Madame Gérard; "I am very curious to know what
he has to say to me:
"‘Vos attraits charment les cœurs,
Vous avez grâce et jeunesse--’"
"Evidently it is a circular," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"It is extremely flattering to receive the same compliment as Madame
Gérard!" said Mademoiselle Cornélie, with a shrug; while all the ladies
proceeded to read their mottoes.
"It is most astonishing that they all have the same thing," said Uncle
Mignon, running from one lady to another. "It is like the card trick
someone played on me, when I saw nothing but aces of hearts in the
pack."
"Who is the author of these pretty lines?" inquired the chevalier
sneeringly.
"My librarian," replied Robineau.
"What! that man in black, with buttons like plates?"
"The same. He’s a scholar of the first rank, a man who knows
everything!"
"Oho! He knows everything, does he? I will wager that I can talk to him
about things he never heard of."
"And those greased poles,--is no one going to climb those, monsieur?"
"In a moment, madame.--Monsieur Férulus, order the assault on the
greased poles to begin."
"Parbleu!" said the chevalier, "it isn’t hard to climb those; I have
been to sea and I’ve seen some that were much harder to climb! I used to
run up the mainmast like a monkey, and when I reached the top, I would
stand on my head."
"Just try climbing one of these," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"I can’t, because my breeches are very tight, and I am afraid of
accidents; but for that, I would be at the top before you had seen that
I was going up."
Monsieur Férulus requested the orchestra to play a livelier piece for
the attack on the greased poles, and it was to the tune of _Ma Tendre
Musette_ that several Auvergnats tried to climb one of the poles; but
they slid back after climbing two or three feet, and showed very little
zest in the attempt to win the books which were attached to the top. In
vain did Férulus urge them on, and Robineau from the balcony encourage
them,--the Auvergnats refused to climb any more.
"Well!" said the librarian, "the women will set you the example, and
teach you how to climb. Let the young ladies come forward!"
"Ah! the women are going to climb!" said Monsieur Berlingue; "this is
getting interesting."
"The women are going to climb!" said Monsieur de la Pincerie. "Hum! that
is an innovation!"
"Oh! we have provided for everything!" said Robineau; "the pole is
smeared with honey."
"With honey," said Uncle Mignon; "ah! I understand, I understand; that’s
for decency’s sake."
Two or three buxom girls came forward laughing, and walked around the
pole, but did not venture, although Monsieur Férulus stood at the foot
of the pole, offering his back to all those who cared to try. At last,
one village girl made the attempt, and climbed a little way, then
stopped, crying that she was stuck; and Monsieur Férulus, who was below,
said to her:
"Don’t give it up--don’t be discouraged; it’s the way of life,--thorns
in order to obtain roses; _quid femina possit_."
The peasant descended, licking the honey from her hands; another
followed her, but was no more fortunate, although Monsieur Férulus still
stood at the foot of the pole, to let them stand on his back and to
encourage their efforts. Monsieur Berlingue declared that the librarian
had the best place and could see better than the rest of the company.
But no one else came forward. In vain did Monsieur Férulus exclaim:
"There is a chance to win the Treatise on Participles, and the
_Cuisinière Bourgeoise_."
The prizes seemed fated to remain suspended in the air, when suddenly
Mademoiselle Cheval, who was watching the sports from the courtyard,
keeping an eye upon her cooking the while, walked proudly toward
Monsieur Férulus, saying:
"You say there is a cook-book to win! that’s my business; let me climb
up, Monsieur Desânus, and I will bring the things down in a jiffy! Oh! I
know how to play all kinds of games, I do!"
And, pushing aside the functionary, who offered to let her stand on his
back, Mademoiselle Cheval put her arms about the pole, and worked her
hands and knees so vigorously that she ascended at a rapid pace.
"She will go to the top," said Monsieur Gérard; "she’s a stout young
woman."