VI

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.

Early in the morning of the solemn day, Pillerault said to his

nephew,--

"Cesar, you can go to your meeting to-day without fear; nobody will be

there."

Monsieur Ragon wished to accompany his debtor. When the former master

of "The Queen of Roses" first made known the wish in his little dry

voice, his ex-successor turned pale; but the good old man opened his

arms, and Birotteau threw himself into them as a child into the arms

of its father, and the two perfumers mingled their tears. The bankrupt

gathered courage as he felt the indulgences shown to him, and he got

into the coach with his uncle and Ragon. Precisely at half past ten

o'clock the three reached the cloister Saint-Merri, where the Court of

Commerce was then held. At that hour there was no one in the Hall of

Bankruptcy. The day and the hour had been chosen by agreement with the

judge and the assignees. The three solicitors were already there on

behalf of their clients. There was nothing, therefore, to distress or

intimidate Cesar Birotteau; yet the poor man could not enter the

office of Monsieur Camusot--which chanced to be the one he had

formerly occupied--without deep emotion, and he shuddered as he passed

through the Hall of Bankruptcy.

"It is cold," said Monsieur Camusot to Birotteau. "I am sure these

gentlemen will not be sorry to stay here, instead of our going to

freeze in the Hall." He did not say the word "Bankruptcy." "Gentlemen,

be seated."

Each took his seat, and the judge gave his own armchair to Birotteau,

who was bewildered. The solicitors and the assignees signed the

papers.

"In consideration of the surrender of your entire property," said

Camusot to Birotteau, "your creditors unanimously agree to relinquish

the rest of their claims. Your certificate is couched in terms which

may well soften your pain; your solicitor will see that it is promptly

recorded; you are now free. All the judges of this court, dear

Monsieur Birotteau," said Camusot, taking him by the hand, "feel for

your position, and are not surprised at your courage; none have failed

to do justice to your integrity. In the midst of a great misfortune

you have been worthy of what you once were here. I have been in

business for twenty years, and this is only the second time that I

have seen a fallen merchant gaining, instead of losing, public

respect."

Birotteau took the hands of the judge and wrung them, with tears in

his eyes. Camusot asked him what he now meant to do. Birotteau replied

that he should work till he had paid his creditors in full to the last

penny.

"If to accomplish that noble task you should ever want a few thousand

francs, you will always find them with me," said Camusot. "I would

give them with a great deal of pleasure to witness a deed so rare in

Paris."

Pillerault, Ragon, and Birotteau retired.

"Well! that wasn't the ocean to drink," said Pillerault, as they left

the court-room.

"I recognize your hand in it," said the poor man, much affected.

"Now, here you are, free, and we are only a few steps from the Rue des

Cinq-Diamants; come and see my nephew," said Ragon.

A cruel pang shot through Cesar's heart when he saw Constance sitting

in a little office in the damp, dark /entresol/ above the shop, whose

single window was one third darkened by a sign which intercepted the

daylight and bore the name,--A. POPINOT.

"Behold a lieutenant of Alexander," said Cesar, with the gaiety of

grief, pointing to the sign.

This forced gaiety, through which an inextinguishable sense of the

superiority which Birotteau attributed to himself was naively

revealed, made Ragon shudder in spite of his seventy years. Cesar saw

his wife passing down letters and papers for Popinot to sign; he could

neither restrain his tears nor keep his face from turning pale.

"Good-morning, my friend," she said to him, smiling.

"I do not ask if you are comfortable here," said Cesar, looking at

Popinot.

"As if I were living with my own son," she answered, with a tender

manner that struck her husband.

Birotteau took Popinot and kissed him, saying,--

"I have lost the right, forever, of calling him my son."

"Let us hope!" said Popinot. "/Your/ oil succeeds--thanks to my

advertisements in the newspapers, and to Gaudissart, who has travelled

over the whole of France; he has inundated the country with placards

and prospectuses; he is now at Strasburg getting the prospectuses

printed in the German language, and he is about to descend, like an

invasion, upon Germany itself. We have received orders for three

thousand gross."

"Three thousand gross!" exclaimed Cesar.

"And I have bought a piece of land in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau,--not

dear,--where I am building a manufactory."

"Wife," whispered Cesar to Constance, "with a little help we might

have pulled through."

*****

After that fatal day Cesar, his wife, and daughter understood each

other. The poor clerk resolved to attain an end which, if not

impossible, was at least gigantic in its enterprise,--namely, the

payment of his debts to their last penny. These three beings,--father,

mother, daughter,--bound together by the tie of a passionate

integrity, became misers, denying themselves everything; a farthing

was sacred in their eyes. Out of sheer calculation Cesarine threw

herself into her business with the devotion of a young girl. She sat

up at night, taxing her ingenuity to find ways of increasing the

prosperity of the establishment, and displaying an innate commercial

talent. The masters of the house were obliged to check her ardor for

work; they rewarded her by presents, but she refused all articles of

dress and the jewels which they offered her. Money! money! was her

cry. Every month she carried her salary and her little earnings to her

uncle Pillerault. Cesar did the same; so did Madame Birotteau. All

three, feeling themselves incapable, dared not take upon themselves

the responsibility of managing their money, and they made over to

Pillerault the whole business of investing their savings. Returning

thus to business, the latter made the most of these funds by

negotiations at the Bourse. It was known afterwards that he had been

helped in this work by Jules Desmarets and Joseph Lebas, both of whom

were eager to point out opportunities which Pillerault might take

without risk.

Cesar, though he lived with his uncle, never ventured to question him

as to what was done with the money acquired by his labor and that of

his wife and daughter. He walked the streets with a bowed head, hiding

from every eye his stricken, dull, distraught face. He felt, with

self-reproach, that the cloth he wore was too good for him.

"At least," he said to Pillerault, with a look that was angelic, "I do

not eat the bread of my creditors. Your bread is sweet to me, though

it is your pity that gives it; thanks to your sacred charity, I do not

steal a farthing of my salary!"

The merchants, his old associates, who met the clerk could see no

vestige of the perfumer. Even careless minds gained an idea of the

immensity of human disaster from the aspect of this man, on whose face

sorrow had cast its black pall, who revealed the havoc caused by that

which had never before appeared in him,--by thought! /N'est pas

detruit qui veut/. Light-minded people, devoid of conscience, to whom

all things are indifferent, can never present such a spectacle of

disaster. Religion alone sets a special seal upon fallen human beings;

they believe in a future, in a divine Providence; from within them

gleams a light that marks them, a look of saintly resignation mingled

with hope, which lends them a certain tender emotion; they realize all

that they have lost, like the exiled angel weeping at the gates of

heaven. Bankrupts are forbidden to enter the Bourse. Cesar, driven

from the regions of integrity, was like an angel sighing for pardon.

For fourteen months he lived on, full of religious thoughts with which

his fall inspired him, and denying himself every pleasure. Though sure

of the Ragons' friendship, nothing could induce him to dine with them,

nor with the Lebas, nor the Matifats, nor the Protez and

Chiffrevilles, not even with Monsieur Vauquelin; all of whom were

eager to do honor to his rare virtue. Cesar preferred to be alone in

his room rather than meet the eye of a creditor. The warmest greetings

of his friends reminded him the more bitterly of his position.

Constance and Cesarine went nowhere. On Sundays and fete days, the

only days when they were at liberty, the two women went to fetch Cesar

at the hour for Mass, and they stayed with him at Pillerault's after

their religious duties were accomplished. Pillerault often invited the

Abbe Loraux, whose words sustained Cesar in this life of trial. And in

this way their lives were spent. The old ironmonger had too tough a

fibre of integrity not to approve of Cesar's sensitive honor. His

mind, however, turned on increasing the number of persons among whom

the poor bankrupt might show himself with an open brow, and an eye

that could meet the eyes of his fellows.