After admitting his insolvency and filing his schedule, a merchant
should find some retired spot in France, or in foreign countries, where
he may live without taking part in life, like the child that he is; for
the law declares him a minor, and not competent for any legal action as
a citizen. This, however, is never done. Before reappearing he obtains a
safe-conduct, which neither judge nor creditor ever refuses to give; for
if the debtor were found without this _exeat_ he would be put in prison,
while with it he passes safely, as with a flag of truce, through the
enemy’s camp,--not by way of curiosity, but for the purpose of defeating
the severe intention of the laws relating to bankruptcy. The effect of
all laws which touch private interests is to develop, enormously, the
knavery of men’s minds. The object of a bankrupt, like that of other
persons whose interests are thwarted by any law, is to make void the law
in his particular case.
The status of civil death in which the bankrupt remains a chrysalis
lasts for about three months,--a period required by formalities which
precede a conference at which the creditors and their debtor sign a
treaty of peace, by which the bankrupt is allowed the ability to make
payments, and receives a bankrupt’s certificate. This transaction is
called the _concordat_,--a word implying, perhaps, that peace reigns
after the storm and stress of interests violently in opposition.
As soon as the insolvent’s schedule is filed, the Court of commerce
appoints a judge-commissioner, whose duty it is to look after the
interests of the still unknown body of creditors, and also to protect
the insolvent against the vexatious measures of angry creditors,--a
double office, which might be nobly magnified if the judges had time
to attend to it. The commissioner, however, delegates an agent to take
possession of the property, the securities, and the merchandise, and to
verify the schedule; when this is done, the court appoints a day for
a meeting of the creditors, notice of which is trumpeted forth in the
newspapers. The creditors, real or pretended, are expected to be present
and choose the provisional assignees, who are to supersede the agent,
step into the insolvent’s shoes, became by a fiction of law the
insolvent himself, and are authorized to liquidate the business,
negotiate all transactions, sell the property,--in short, recast
everything in the interest of the creditors, provided the bankrupt makes
no opposition. The majority of Parisian failures stop short at this
point, and the reason is as follows:
The appointment of one or more permanent assignees is an act which gives
opportunity for the bitterest action on the part of creditors who
are thirsting for vengeance, who have been tricked, baffled, cozened,
trapped, duped, robbed, and cheated. Although, as a general thing, all
creditors are cheated, robbed, duped, trapped, cozened, tricked, and
baffled, yet there is not in all Paris a commercial passion able to keep
itself alive for ninety days. The paper of commerce alone maintains its
vitality, and rises, athirst for payment, in three months. Before ninety
days are over, the creditors, worn out by coming and going, by the
marches and countermarches which a failure entails, are asleep at
the side of their excellent little wives. This may help a stranger to
understand why it is that the provisional in France is so often the
definitive: out of every thousand provisional assignees, not more than
five ever become permanent. The subsidence of passions stirred up by
failures is thus accounted for.
But here it becomes necessary to explain to persons who have not had the
happiness to be in business the whole drama of bankruptcy, so as to make
them understand how it constitutes in Paris a monstrous legal farce; and
also how the bankruptcy of Cesar Birotteau was a signal exception to the
general rule.
This fine commercial drama is in three distinct acts,--the agent’s act,
the assignee’s act, the _concordat_, or certificate-of-bankruptcy act.
Like all theatrical performances, it is played with a double-intent:
it is put upon the stage for the public eye, but it also has a hidden
purpose; there is one performance for the pit, and another for the
side-scenes. Posted in the side-scenes are the bankrupt and his
solicitor, the attorney of the creditors, the assignees, the agent, and
the judge-commissioner himself. No one out of Paris knows, and no one in
Paris does not know, that a judge of the commercial courts is the most
extraordinary magistrate that society ever allowed itself to create.
This judge may live in dread of his own justice at any moment. Paris
has seen the president of her courts of commerce file his own schedule.
Instead of being an experienced retired merchant, to whom the magistracy
might properly be made the reward of a pure life, this judge is a
trader, bending under the weight of enormous enterprises, and at the
head of some large commercial house. The _sine qua non_ condition in the
election of this functionary, whose business it is to pass judgment
on the avalanche of commercial suits incessantly rolling through the
courts, is that he shall have the greatest difficulty in managing his
own affairs. This commercial tribunal, far from being made a useful
means of transition whereby a merchant might rise, without ridicule,
into the ranks of the nobility, is in point of fact made up of traders
who are trading, and who are liable to suffer for their judgments when
they next meet with dissatisfied parties,--very much as Birotteau was
now punished by du Tillet.
The commissioner is of necessity a personage before whom much is said;
who listens, recollecting all the while his own interests, and leaves
the cause to the assignees and the attorneys,--except, possibly, in
a few strange and unusual cases where dishonesty is accompanied by
peculiar circumstances, when the judge usually observes that the debtor,
or the creditors, as it may happen, are clever people. This personage,
set up in the drama like the royal bust in a public audience-chamber,
may be found early in the morning at his wood-yard, if he sells wood; in
his shop, if, like Birotteau, he is a perfumer; or, in the evenings,
at his dessert after dinner,--always, it should be added, in a terrible
hurry; as a general thing he is silent. Let us, however, do justice
to the law: the legislation that governs his functions, and which was
pushed through in haste, has tied the hands of this commissioner; and
it sometimes happens that he sanctions fraud which he cannot hinder,--as
the reader will shortly see.
The agent to whom the judge delegates the first proceedings, instead
of serving the creditors, may become if he please a tool of the debtor.
Every one hopes to swell his own gains by getting on the right side of
the debtor, who is always supposed to keep back a hidden treasure. The
agent may make himself useful to both parties; on the one hand by not
laying the bankrupt’s business in ashes, on the other by snatching a few
morsels for men of influence,--in short, he runs with the hare and holds
with the hounds. A clever agent has frequently arrested judgment by
buying up the debts and then releasing the merchant, who then rebounds
like an india-rubber ball. The agent chooses the best-stocked crib,
whether it leads him to cover the largest creditors and shear the
debtor, or to sacrifice the creditors for the future prosperity of
the restored merchant. The action of the agent is decisive. This man,
together with the bankrupt’s solicitor, plays the utility role in the
drama, where it may be said neither the one nor the other would accept
a part if not sure of their fees. Taking the average of a thousand
failures, an agent would be found nine hundred and fifty times on the
side of the bankrupt. At the period of our history, the solicitors
frequently sought the judge with the request that he would appoint
an agent whom they proposed to him,--a man, as they said, to whom the
affairs of the bankrupt were well-known, who would know how to reconcile
the interests of the whole body of creditors with those of a man
honorably overtaken by misfortune. For some years past the best judges
have sought the advice of the solicitors in this matter for the purpose
of not taking it, endeavoring to appoint some other agent _quasi_
virtuous.
During this act of the drama the creditors, real or pretended, come
forward to select the provisional assignees, who are often, as we have
said, the final ones. In this electoral assembly all creditors have the
right to vote, whether the sum owing to them is fifty sous, or fifty
thousand francs. This assembly, in which are found pretended creditors
introduced by the bankrupt,--the only electors who never fail to come
to the meeting,--proposes the whole body of creditors as candidates from
among whom the commissioner, a president without power, is supposed
to select the assignees. Thus it happens that the judge almost always
appoints as assignees those creditors whom it suits the bankrupt to
have,--another abuse which makes the catastrophe of bankruptcy one
of the most burlesque dramas to which justice ever lent her name.
The honorable bankrupt overtaken by misfortune is then master of the
situation, and proceeds to legalize the theft he premeditated. As a
rule, the petty trades of Paris are guiltless in this respect. When
a shopkeeper gets as far as making an assignment, the worthy man has
usually sold his wife’s shawl, pawned his plate, left no stone unturned,
and succumbs at last with empty hands, ruined, and without enough money
to pay his attorney, who in consequence cares little for him.
The law requires that the _concordat_, at which is granted the
bankrupt’s certificate that remits to the merchant a portion of his
debt, and restores to him the right of managing his affairs, shall
be attended by a majority of the creditors, and also that they shall
represent a certain proportion of the debt. This important action brings
out much clever diplomacy, on the part of the bankrupt, his assignees,
and his solicitor, among the contending interests which cross and
jostle each other. A usual and very common manoeuvre is to offer to that
section of the creditors who make up in number and amount the majority
required by law certain premiums, which the debtor consents to pay over
and above the dividend publicly agreed upon. This monstrous fraud is
without remedy. The thirty commercial courts which up to the present
time have followed one after the other, have each known of it, for all
have practised it. Enlightened by experience, they have lately tried to
render void such fraudulent agreements; and as the bankrupts have reason
to complain of the extortion, the judges had some hope of reforming to
that extent the system of bankruptcy. The attempt, however, will end in
producing something still more immoral; for the creditors will devise
other rascally methods, which the judges will condemn as judges, but by
which they will profit as merchants.
Another much-used stratagem, and one to which we owe the term “serious
and legitimate creditor,” is that of creating creditors,--just as du
Tillet created a banker and a banking-house,--and introducing a certain
quantity of Claparons under whose skin the bankrupt hides, diminishing
by just so much the dividends of the true creditors, and laying up for
the honest man a store for the future; always, however, providing a
sufficient majority of votes and debts to secure the passage of his
certificate. The “gay and illegitimate creditors” are like false
electors admitted into the electoral college. What chance has the
“serious and legitimate creditor” against the “gay and illegitimate
creditor?” Shall he get rid of him by attacking him? How can he do it?
To drive out the intruder the legitimate creditor must sacrifice his
time, his own business, and pay an attorney to help him; while the said
attorney, making little out of it, prefers to manage the bankruptcy in
another capacity, and therefore works for the genuine credit without
vigor.
To dislodge the illegitimate creditor it is necessary to thread the
labyrinth of proceedings in bankruptcy, search among past events,
ransack accounts, obtain by injunction the books of the false creditors,
show the improbability of the fiction of their existence, prove it to
the judges, sue for justice, go and come, and stir up sympathy; and,
finally, to charge like Don Quixote upon each “gay and illegitimate
creditor,” who if convicted of “gaiety” withdraws from court, saying
with a bow to the judges, “Excuse me, you are mistaken, I am very
‘serious.’” All this without prejudice to the rights of the bankrupt,
who may carry Don Quixote and his remonstrance to the upper courts;
during which time Don Quixote’s own business is suffering, and he is
liable to become a bankrupt himself.
The upshot of all this is, that in point of fact the debtor appoints
his assignees, audits his own accounts, and draws up the certificate of
bankruptcy himself.
Given these premises, it is easy to imagine the devices of Frontin, the
trickeries of Sganarelle, the lies of Mascarille, and the empty bags
of Scapin which such a system develops. There has never been a failure
which did not generate enough matter to fill the fourteen volumes of
“Clarissa Harlowe,” if an author could be found to describe them. A
single example will suffice. The illustrious Gobseck,--ruler of Palma,
Gigonnet, Werbrust, Keller, Nucingen, and the like,--being concerned in
a failure where he attempted to roughly handle the insolvent, who had
managed to get the better of him, obtained notes from his debtor for an
amount which together with the declared dividend made up the sum total
of his loss. These notes were to fall due after the _concordat_. Gobseck
then brought about a settlement in the _concordat_ by which sixty-five
per cent was remitted to the bankrupt. Thus the creditors were swindled
in the interests of Gobseck. But the bankrupt had signed the illicit
notes with the name of his insolvent firm, and he was therefore able
to bring them under the reduction of sixty-five per cent. Gobseck, the
great Gobseck, received scarcely fifty per cent on his loss. From that
day forth he bowed to his debtor with ironical respect.
As all operations undertaken by an insolvent within ten days before his
failure can be impeached, prudent men are careful to enter upon certain
affairs with a certain number of creditors whose interest, like that
of the bankrupt, is to arrive at the _concordat_ as fast as possible.
Skilful creditors will approach dull creditors or very busy ones, give
an ugly look into the failure, and buy up their claims at half what
they are worth at the liquidation; in this way they get back their money
partly by the dividend on their own claims, partly from the half, or
third, or fourth, gained on these purchased claims.
A failure is the closer, more or less hermetically tight, of a house
where pillage has left a few remaining bags of silver. Lucky the man who
can get in at a window, slide down a chimney, creep in through a cellar
or through a hole, and seize a bag to swell his share! In the general
rout, the _sauve qui peut_ of Beresina is passed from mouth to mouth;
all is legal and illegal, false and true, honest and dishonest. A man is
admired if he “covers” himself. To “cover” himself means that he seizes
securities to the detriment of the other creditors. France has lately
rung with the discussion of an immense failure that took place in a town
where one of the upper courts holds its sittings, and where the judges,
having current accounts with the bankrupts, wore such heavy india-rubber
mantles that the mantle of justice was rubbed into holes. It was
absolutely necessary, in order to avert legitimate suspicion, to send
the case for judgment in another court. There was neither judge nor
agent nor supreme court in the region where the failure took place that
could be trusted.
This alarming commercial tangle is so well understood in Paris, that
unless a merchant is involved to a large amount he accepts a failure
as total shipwreck without insurance, passes it to his profit-and-loss
account, and does not commit the folly of wasting time upon it; he
contents himself with brewing his own malt. As to the petty trader,
worried about his monthly payments, busied in pushing the chariot of his
little fortunes, a long and costly legal process terrifies him. He gives
up trying to see his way, imitates the substantial merchant, bows his
head, and accepts his loss.
The wholesale merchants seldom fail, nowadays; they make friendly
liquidations; the creditors take what is given to them, and hand in
their receipts. In this way many things are avoided,--dishonor, judicial
delays, fees to lawyers, and the depreciation of merchandise.
All parties think that bankruptcy will give less in the end than
liquidation. There are now more liquidations than bankruptcies in Paris.
The assignee’s act in the drama is intended to prove that every assignee
is incorruptible, and that no collusion has ever existed between any
of them and the bankrupt. The pit--which has all, more or less, been
assignee in its day--knows very well that every assignee is a “covered”
merchant. It listens, and believes as it likes. After three months
employed in auditing the debtor and creditor accounts, the time comes
for the _concordat_. The provisional assignees make a little report at
the meeting, of which the following is the usual formula:--
Messieurs,--There is owing to the whole of us, in bulk, about a
million. We have dismantled our man like a condemned frigate. The
nails, iron, wood, and copper will bring about three hundred
thousand francs. We shall thus get about thirty per cent of our
money. Happy in obtaining this amount, when our debtor might have
left us only one hundred thousand, we hereby declare him an
Aristides; we vote him a premium and crown of encouragement, and
propose to leave him to manage his assets, giving him ten or
twelve years in which to pay us the fifty per cent which he has
been so good as to offer us. Here is the certificate of
bankruptcy; have the goodness to walk up to the desk and sign it.
At this speech, all the fortune creditors congratulate each other and
shake hands. After the ratification of the certificate, the bankrupt
becomes once more a merchant, precisely such as he was before; he
receives back his securities, he continues his business, he is not
deprived of the power to fail again, on the promised dividend,--an
additional little failure which often occurs, like the birth of a child
nine months after the mother has married her daughter.
If the certificate of bankruptcy is not granted, the creditors then
select the permanent assignees, take extreme measures, and form an
association to get possession of the whole property and the business
of their debtor, seizing everything that he has or ever will have,--his
inheritance from his father, his mother, his aunt, _et caetera_.
This stern measure can only be carried through by an association of
creditors.
* * * * *
There are therefore two sorts of failures,--the failure of the merchant
who means to repossess himself of his business, and the failure of the
merchant who has fallen into the water and is willing to sink to the
bottom. Pillerault knew the difference. It was, to his thinking and to
that of Ragon, as hard to come out pure from the first as to come out
safe from the second. After advising Cesar to abandon everything to his
creditors, he went to the most honorable solicitor in such matters,
that immediate steps might be taken to liquidate the failure and put
everything at once at the disposition of the creditors. The law requires
that while the drama is being acted, the creditors shall provide for
the support of the bankrupt and his family. Pillerault notified the
commissioner that he would himself supply the wants of his niece and
nephew.
Du Tillet had worked all things together to make the failure a prolonged
agony for his old master; and this is how he did it. Time is so precious
in Paris that it is customary, when two assignees are appointed, for
only one to attend to the affair: the duty of the other is merely
formal,--he approves and signs, like the second notary in notarial
deeds. By this means, the largest failures in Paris are so vigorously
handled that, in spite of the law’s delays, they are adjusted, settled,
and secured with such rapidity that within a hundred days the judge can
echo the atrocious saying of the Minister,--“Order reigns in Warsaw.”
Du Tillet meant to compass Cesar’s commercial death. The names of
the assignees selected through the influence of du Tillet were very
significant to Pillerault. Monsieur Bidault, called Gigonnet,--the
principal creditor,--was the one to take no active part; and Molineux,
the mischievous old man who lost nothing by the failure, was to manage
everything. Du Tillet flung the noble commercial carcass to the little
jackal, that he might torment it as he devoured it. After the meeting
at which the creditors appointed the assignees, little Molineux returned
home “honored,” so he said, “by the suffrages of his fellow-citizens”;
happy in the prospect of hectoring Birotteau, just as a child
delights in having an insect to maltreat. The landlord, astride of his
hobby,--the law,--begged du Tillet to favor him with his ideas; and he
bought a copy of the commercial Code. Happily, Joseph Lebas, cautioned
by Pillerault, had already requested the president of the Board
of Commerce to select a sagacious and well-meaning commissioner.
Gobenheim-Keller, whom du Tillet hoped to have, found himself displaced
by Monsieur Camusot, a substitute-judge,--a rich silk-merchant, Liberal
in politics, and the owner of the house in which Pillerault lived; a man
counted honorable.
* * * * *
One of the cruellest scenes of Cesar’s life was his forced conference
with little Molineux,--the being he had once regarded as a nonentity,
who now by a fiction of law had become Cesar Birotteau. He was compelled
to go to the Cour Batave, to mount the six flights, and re-enter the
miserable appartement of the old man, now his custodian, his _quasi_
judge,--the representative of his creditors. Pillerault accompanied him.
“What is the matter?” said the old man, as Cesar gave vent to an
exclamation.
“Ah, uncle! you do not know the sort of man this Molineux is!”
“I have seen him from time to time for fifteen years past at the cafe
David, where he plays dominoes. That is why I have come with you.”
Monsieur Molineux showed the utmost politeness to Pillerault, and much
disdainful condescension to the bankrupt; he had thought over his part,
studied the shades of his demeanor, and prepared his ideas.
“What information is it that you need?” asked Pillerault. “There is no
dispute as to the claims.”
“Oh,” said little Molineux, “the claims are in order,--they have been
examined. The creditors are all serious and legitimate. But the
law, monsieur,--the law! The expenditures of the bankrupt have been
disproportional to his fortune. It appears that the ball--”
“At which you were present,” interrupted Pillerault.
“--cost nearly sixty thousand francs, and at that time the assets of
the insolvent amounted to not more than one hundred and a few thousand
francs. There is cause to arraign the bankrupt on a charge of wilful
bankruptcy.”
“Is that your intention?” said Pillerault, noticing the despondency into
which these words had cast Birotteau.
“Monsieur, I make a distinction; the Sieur Birotteau was a member of the
municipality--”
“You have not sent for us, I presume, to explain that we are to be
brought into a criminal police court?” said Pillerault. “The cafe David
would laugh finely at your conduct this evening.”
The opinion of the cafe David seemed to frighten the old man, who looked
at Pillerault with a startled air. He had counted on meeting Birotteau
alone, intending to pose as the sovereign arbiter of his fate,--a
legal Jupiter. He meant to frighten him with the thunder-bolt of an
accusation, to brandish the axe of a criminal charge over his head,
enjoy his fears and his terrors, and then allow himself to be touched
and softened, and persuaded at last to restore his victim to a life of
perpetual gratitude. Instead of his insect, he had got hold of an old
commercial sphinx.
“Monsieur,” he replied, “I see nothing to laugh at.”
“Excuse me,” said Pillerault. “You have negotiated largely with Monsieur
Claparon; you have neglected the interests of the main body of
the creditors, so as to make sure that certain claims shall have
a preference. Now I can as one of the creditors interfere. The
commissioner is to be taken into account.”
“Monsieur,” said Molineux, “I am incorruptible.”
“I am aware of it,” said Pillerault. “You have only taken your iron out
of the fire, as they say. You are keen; you are acting just as you do
with your tenants--”
“Oh, monsieur!” said the assignee, suddenly dropping into the
landlord,--just as the cat metamorphosed into a woman ran after a mouse
when she caught sight of it,--“my affair of the Rue Montorgeuil is not
yet settled. What they call an impediment has arisen. The tenant is the
chief tenant. This conspirator declares that as he has paid a year in
advance, and having only one more year to”--here Pillerault gave Cesar
a look which advised him to pay strict attention--“and, the year being
paid for, that he has the right to take away his furniture. I shall sue
him! I must hold on to my securities to the last; he may owe something
for repairs before the year is out.”
“But,” said Pillerault, “the law only allows you to take furniture as
security for the rent--”
“And its accessories!” cried Molineux, assailed in his trenches. “That
article in the Code has been interpreted by various judgments rendered
in the matter: however, there ought to be legislative rectification to
it. At this very moment I am elaborating a memorial to his Highness,
the Keeper of the Seals, relating to this flaw in our statutes. It
is desirable that the government should maintain the interests of
landlords. That is the chief question in statecraft. We are the tap-root
of taxation.”
“You are well fitted to enlighten the government,” said Pillerault; “but
in what way can we enlighten you--about our affairs?”
“I wish to know,” said Molineux, with pompous authority, “if Monsieur
Birotteau has received moneys from Monsieur Popinot.”
“No, monsieur,” said Birotteau.
Then followed a discussion on Birotteau’s interests in the house of
Popinot, from which it appeared that Popinot had the right to have all
his advances paid in full, and that he was not involved in the failure
to the amount of half the costs of his establishment, due to him by
Birotteau. Molineux, judiciously handled by Pillerault, insensibly got
back to gentler ways, which only showed how he cared for the opinion of
those who frequented the cafe David. He ended by offering consolation
to Birotteau, and by inviting him, as well as Pillerault, to share his
humble dinner. If the ex-perfumer had gone alone, he would probably have
irritated Molineux, and the matter would have become envenomed. In this
instance, as in others, old Pillerault was his tutelary angel.
Commercial law imposes a horrible torture upon the bankrupt; he is
compelled to appear in person at the meeting of his creditors, when they
decide upon his future fate. For a man who can hold himself above it
all, or for a merchant who expects to recover himself, this ceremony is
little feared. But to a man like Cesar Birotteau it was agony only to
be compared to the last day of a criminal condemned to death. Pillerault
did all in his power to make that terrible day endurable to his nephew.
The steps taken by Molineux, and agreed to by the bankrupt, were as
follows: The suit relating to the mortgage on the property in the
Faubourg du Temple having been won in the courts, the assignees decided
to sell that property, and Cesar made no opposition. Du Tillet, hearing
privately that the government intended to cut a canal which should lead
from Saint-Denis to the upper Seine through the Faubourg du Temple,
bought the property of Birotteau for seventy thousand francs. All
Cesar’s rights in the lands about the Madeleine were turned over to
Monsieur Claparon, on condition that he on his side would abandon all
claim against Birotteau for half the costs of drawing up and registering
the contracts; also for all payments on the price of the lands, by
receiving himself, under the failure, the dividend which was to be
paid over to the sellers. The interests of the perfumer in the house
of Popinot and Company were sold to the said Popinot for the sum of
forty-eight thousand francs. The business of “The Queen of Roses” was
bought by Celestin Crevel at fifty-seven thousand francs, with the
lease, the fixtures, the merchandise, furniture, and all rights in the
Paste of Sultans and the Carminative Balm, with twelve years’ lease of
the manufactories, whose various appliances were also sold to him. The
assets when liquidated came to one hundred and ninety-five thousand
francs, to which the assignees added seventy thousand produced by
Birotteau’s claims in the liquidation of the “unfortunate” Roguin. Thus
the total amount made over to Cesar’s creditors was two hundred and
fifty-five thousand francs. The debts amounted to four hundred and forty
thousand; consequently, the creditors received more than fifty per cent
on their claims.
Bankruptcy is a species of chemical transmutation, from which a clever
merchant tries to emerge in fresh shape. Birotteau, distilled to the
last drop in this retort, gave a result which made du Tillet furious.
Du Tillet looked to see a dishonorable failure; he saw an honorable one.
Caring little for his own gains, though he was about to get
possession of the lands around the Madeleine without ever drawing his
purse-strings, he wanted to see his old master dishonored, lost, and
vilified. The creditors at the general meeting would undoubtedly show
the poor man that they respected him.
By degrees, as Birotteau’s courage came back to him, Pillerault, like
a wise doctor, informed him, by gradual doses, of the transactions
resulting from his failure. These harsh tidings were like so many blows.
A merchant cannot learn without a shock the depreciation of property
which represents to him so much money, so much solicitude, so much
labor. The facts his uncle now told him petrified the poor man.
“Fifty-seven thousand francs for ‘The Queen of Roses’! Why, the shop
alone cost ten thousand; the appartement cost forty thousand; the mere
outlay on the manufactories, the utensils, the frames, the boilers, cost
thirty thousand. Why! at fifty per cent abatement, if my creditors allow
me that, there would still be ten thousand francs worth of property in
the shop. Why! the Paste and the Balm are solid property,--worth as much
as a farm!”
Poor Cesar’s jeremiads made no impression upon Pillerault. The old
merchant took them as a horse takes a down-pour; but he was alarmed by
the gloomy silence Birotteau maintained when it was a question of the
meeting. Those who comprehend the vanities and weaknesses which in all
social spheres beset mankind, will know what a martyrdom it was for this
poor man to enter as a bankrupt the commercial tribunal of justice
where he once sat as judge; to meet affronts where so often he had been
thanked for services rendered,--he, Birotteau, whose inflexible opinions
about bankruptcy were so well known; he who had said, “A man may be
honest till he fails, but he comes out of a meeting of his creditors
a swindler.” Pillerault watched for the right moment to familiarize
Cesar’s mind with the thought of appearing before his creditors as the
law demands. The thought killed him. His mute grief and resignation made
a deep impression on his uncle, who often heard him at night, through
the partition, crying out to himself, “Never! never! I will die sooner.”
Pillerault, a strong man,--strong through the simplicity of his
life,--was able to understand weakness. He resolved to spare Cesar the
anguish of appearing before his creditors,--a terrible scene which the
law renders inevitable, and to which, indeed, he might succumb. On this
point the law is precise, formal, and not to be evaded. The merchant
who refused to appear would, for that act alone, be brought before
the criminal police courts. But though the law compels the bankrupt to
appear, it has no power to oblige the creditor to do so. A meeting
of creditors is a ceremony of no real importance except in special
cases,--when, for instance, a swindler is to be dispossessed and a
coalition among the creditors agreed upon, when there is difference of
opinion between the privileged creditors and the unsecured creditors, or
when the _concordat_ is specially dishonest, and the bankrupt is in need
of a deceptive majority. But in the case of a failure when all has
been given up, the meeting is a mere formality. Pillerault went to each
creditor, one after the other, and asked him to give his proxy to his
attorney. Every creditor, except du Tillet, sincerely pitied Cesar,
after striking him down. Each knew that his conduct was scrupulously
honest, that his books were regular, and his business as clear as the
day. All were pleased to find no “gay and illegitimate creditor” among
them. Molineux, first the agent and then the provisional assignee, had
found in Cesar’s house everything the poor man owned, even the engraving
of Hero and Leander which Popinot had given him, his personal trinkets,
his breast-pin, his gold buckles, his two watches,--things which an
honest man might have taken without thinking himself less than honest.
Constance had left her modest jewel-case. This touching obedience to
the law struck the commercial mind keenly. Birotteau’s enemies called
it foolishness; but men of sense held it up to its true light as a
magnificent supererogation of integrity. In two months the opinion of
the Bourse had changed; every one, even those who were most indifferent,
admitted this failure to be a rare commercial wonder, seldom seen in the
markets of Paris. Thus the creditors, knowing that they were secure
of nearly sixty per cent of their claims, were very ready to do what
Pillerault asked of them. The solicitors of the commercial courts are
few in number; it therefore happened that several creditors employed
the same man, giving him their proxies. Pillerault finally succeeded in
reducing the formidable assemblage to three solicitors, himself, Ragon,
the two assignees, and the commissioner.