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sofa。



My　dear　fellow；　I　have　spent　six　days　in　this　delightful　country…

house；　and　I　never　tire　of　admiring　the　beauties　of　the　park；

surrounded　by　forests　where　pretty　wood…paths　lead　beside　the　brooks。

Nature　and　its　silence；　these　tranquil　pleasures；　this　placid　life　to

which　she　woos　me；all　attract。　Ah！　here　is　true　literature；　no　fault

of　style　among　the　meadows。　Happiness　forgets　all　things　here；even

the　Debats！　It　has　rained　all　the　morning；　while　the　countess　slept

and　Montcornet　tramped　over　his　domain；　I　have　compelled　myself　to

keep　my　rash；　imprudent　promise　to　write　to　you。



Until　now；　though　I　was　born　at　Alencon；　of　an　old　judge　and　a

prefect；　so　they　say；　and　though　I　know　something　of　agriculture；　I

supposed　the　tale　of　estates　bringing　in　four　or　five　thousand　francs

a　month　to　be　a　fable。　Money；　to　me；　meant　a　couple　of　dreadful

things；work　and　a　publisher；　journalism　and　politics。　When　shall　we

poor　fellows　come　upon　a　land　where　gold　springs　up　with　the　grass？

That　is　what　I　desire　for　you　and　for　me　and　the　rest　of　us　in　the

name　of　the　theatre；　and　of　the　press；　and　of　book…making！　Amen！



Will　Florine　be　jealous　of　the　late　Mademoiselle　Laguerre？　Our　modern

Bourets　have　no　French　nobles　now　to　show　them　how　to　live；　they　hire

one　opera…box　among　three　of　them；　they　subscribe　for　their　pleasures；

they　no　longer　cut　down　magnificently　bound　quartos　to　match　the

octavos　in　their　library；　in　fact；　they　scarcely　buy　even　stitched

paper　books。　What　is　to　become　of　us？





Adieu；　continue　to　care　for

Your　Blondet。





If　this　letter；　dashed　off　by　the　idlest　pen　of　the　century；　had　not

by　some　lucky　chance　been　preserved；　it　would　have　been　almost

impossible　to　describe　Les　Aigues；　and　without　this　description　the

history　of　the　horrible　events　that　occurred　there　would　certainly　be

less　interesting。



After　that　remark　some　persons　will　expect　to　see　the　flashing　of　the

cuirass　of　the　former　colonel　of　the　guard；　and　the　raging　of　his

anger　as　he　falls　like　a　waterspout　upon　his　little　wife；　so　that　the

end　of　this　present　history　may　be　like　the　end　of　all　modern　dramas；

a　tragedy　of　the　bed…chamber。　Perhaps　the　fatal　scene　will　take

place　in　that　charming　room　with　the　blue　monochromes；　where　beautiful

ideal　birds　are　painted　on　the　ceilings　and　the　shutters；　where

Chinese　monsters　laugh　with　open　jaws　on　the　mantle…shelf；　and

dragons；　green　and　gold；　twist　their　tails　in　curious　convolutions

around　rich　vases；　and　Japanese　fantasy　embroiders　its　designs　of　many

colors；　where　sofas　and　reclining…chairs　and　consoles　and　what…nots

invite　to　that　contemplative　idleness　which　forbids　all　action。



No；　the　drama　here　to　be　developed　is　not　one　of　private　life；　it

concerns　things　higher；　or　lower。　Expect　no　scenes　of　passion；　the

truth　of　this　history　is　only　too　dramatic。　And　remember；　the

historian　should　never　forget　that　his　mission　is　to　do　justice　to

all；　the　poor　and　the　prosperous　are　equals　before　his　pen；　to　him　the

peasant　appears　in　the　grandeur　of　his　misery；　and　the　rich　in　the

pettiness　of　his　folly。　Moreover；　the　rich　man　has　passions；　the

peasant　only　wants。　The　peasant　is　therefore　doubly　poor；　and　if；

politically；　his　aggressions　must　be　pitilessly　repressed；　to　the　eyes

of　humanity　and　religion　he　is　sacred。







CHAPTER　II



A　BUCOLIC　OVERLOOKED　BY　VIRGIL



When　a　Parisian　drops　into　the　country　he　is　cut　off　from　all　his

usual　habits；　and　soon　feels　the　dragging　hours；　no　matter　how

attentive　his　friends　may　be　to　him。　Therefore；　because　it　is　so

impossible　to　prolong　in　a　tete…a…tete　conversations　that　are　soon

exhausted；　the　master　and　mistress　of　a　country…house　are　apt　to　say；

calmly；　〃You　will　be　terribly　bored　here。〃　It　is　true　that　to

understand　the　delights　of　country　life　one　must　have　something　to　do；

some　interests　in　it；　one　must　know　the　nature　of　the　work　to　be　done；

and　the　alternating　harmony　of　toil　and　pleasure；eternal　symbol　of

human　life。



When　a　Parisian　has　recovered　his　powers　of　sleeping；　shaken　off　the

fatigues　of　his　journey；　and　accustomed　himself　to　country　habits；　the

hardest　period　of　the　day　（if　he　wears　thin　boots　and　is　neither　a

sportsman　nor　an　agriculturalist）　is　the　early　morning。　Between　the

hours　of　waking　and　breakfasting；　the　women　of　the　family　are　sleeping

or　dressing；　and　therefore　unapproachable；　the　master　of　the　house　is

out　and　about　on　his　own　affairs；　a　Parisian　is　therefore　compelled　to

be　alone　from　eight　to　eleven　o'clock；　the　hour　chosen　in　all　country…

houses　for　breakfast。　Now；　having　got　what　amusement　he　can　out　of

carefully　dressing　himself；　he　has　soon　exhausted　that　resource。　Then；

perhaps；　he　has　brought　with　him　some　work；　which　he　finds　it

impossible　to　do；　and　which　goes　back　untouched；　after　he　sees　the

difficulties　of　doing　it；　into　his　valise；　a　writer　is　then　obliged　to

wander　about　the　park　and　gape　at　nothing　or　count　the　big　trees。　The

easier　the　life；　the　more　irksome　such　occupations　are；unless；

indeed；　one　belongs　to　the　sect　of　shaking　quakers　or　to　the　honorable

guild　of　carpenters　or　taxidermists。　If　one　really　had；　like　the

owners　of　estates；　to　live　in　the　country；　it　would　be　well　to　supply

one's　self　with　a　geological；　mineralogical；　entomological；　or

botanical　hobby；　but　a　sensible　man　doesn't　give　himself　a　vice　merely

to　kill　time　for　a　fortnight。　The　noblest　estate；　and　the　finest

chateaux　soon　pall　on　those　who　possess　nothing　but　the　sight　of　them。

The　beauties　of　nature　seem　rather　squalid　compared　to　the

representation　of　them　at　the　opera。　Paris；　by　retrospection；　shines

from　all　its　facets。　Unless　some　particular　interest　attaches　us；　as

it　did　in　Blondet's　case；　to　scenes　honored　by　the　steps　and　lighted

by　the　eyes　of　a　certain　person；　one　would　envy　the　birds　their　wings

and　long　to　get　back　to　the　endless；　exciting　scenes　of　Paris　and　its

harrowing　strifes。



The　long　letter　of　the　young　journalist　must　make　most　intelligent

minds　suppose　that　he　had　reached；　morally　and　physically；　that

particular　phase　of　satisfied　passions　and　comfortable　happiness　which

certain　winged　creatures　fed　in　Strasbourg　so　perfectly　represent

when；　with　their　heads　sunk　behind　their　protruding　gizzards；　they

neither　see　nor　wish　to　see　the　most　appetizing　food。　So；　when　the

formidable　letter　was　finished；　the　writer　felt　the　need　of　getting

away　from　the　gardens　of　Armida　and　doing　something　to　enliven　the

deadly　void　of　the　morning　hours；　for　the　hours　between　breakfast　and

dinner　belonged　to　the　mistress　of　the　house；　who　knew　very　well　how

to　make　them　pass　quickly。　To　keep；　as　Madame　de　Montcornet　did；　a　man

of　talent　in　the　country　without　ever　seeing　on　his　face　the　false

smile　of　satiety；　or　detecting　the　yawn　of　a　weariness　that　cannot　be

concealed；　is　a　great　triumph　for　a　woman。　The　affection　which　is

equal　to　such　a　test　certainly　ought　to　be　eternal。　It　is　to　be

wondered　at　that　women　do　not　oftener　employ　it　to　judge　of　their

lovers；　a　fool；　an　egoist；　or　a　petty　nature　could　never　stand　it。

Philip　the　Second　himself；　the　Alexander　of　dissimulation；　would　have

told　his　secrets　if　condemned　to　a　month's　tete…a…tete　in　the　country。

Perhaps　this　is　why　kings　seek　to　live　in　perpetual　motion；　and　allow

no　one　to　see　them　more　than　fifteen　minutes　at　a　time。



Notwithstanding　that　he　had　received　the　delicate　attentions　of　one　of

the　most　charming　women　in　Paris；　Emile　Blondet　was　able　to　feel　once

more　the　long　forgotten　delights　of　a　truant　schoolboy；　and　on　the

morning　of　the　day　after　his　letter　was　written　he　had　himself　called

by　Francois；　the　head　valet；　who　was　specially　appointed　to　wait　on

him；　for　the　purpose　of　exploring　the　valley　of　the　Avonne。



The　Avonne　is　a　little　river　which；　being　swollen　above　Conches　by

numerous　rivulets；　some　of　which　rise　in　Les　Aigues；　falls　at　Ville…

aux…Fayes　into　one　of　the　large　affluents　of　the　Seine。　The

geographical　position　of　the　Avonne；　navigable　for　over　twelve　miles；

had；　ever　since　Jean　Bouvet　invented　rafts；　given　full　money　value　to

the　forests　of　Les　Aigues；　Soulanges；　and　Ronquerolles；　standing　on

the　crest　of　the　hills　between　which　this　charming　river　flows。　The

park　of　Les　Aigues　covers　the　greater　part　of　the　valley；　between　the

river　（bordered　on　both　sides　by　the　forest　called　des　Aigues）　and　the

royal　mail　road；　defined　by　a　line　of　old　elms　in　the　distance　along

the　slopes　of　the　Avonne　mountains；　which　are　in　fact　the　foot…hills

of　that　magnificent　ampitheatre　called　the　Morvan。



However　vulgar　the　comparison　may　be；　the　park；　lying　thus　at　the

bottom　of　the　valley；　is　like　an　enormous　fish　with　its　head　at

Conches　and　its　tail　in　the　village　of　Blangy；　for　it　widens　in　the

middle　to　nearly　three　hundred　acres；　while　towards　Conches　it　counts

less　than　fifty；　and　sixty　at　Blangy。　The　position　of　this　estat