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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of In Madeira Place, by Heman White Chaplin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: In Madeira Place
+ 1887
+
+Author: Heman White Chaplin
+
+Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23004]
+Last Updated: March 8, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN MADEIRA PLACE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+IN MADEIRA PLACE
+
+1887
+
+By Heman White Chaplin
+
+
+Turning from the street which follows the line of the wharves, into
+Madeira Place, you leave at once an open region of docks and spars for
+comparative retirement. Wagons seldom enter Madeira Place: it is too
+hard to turn them in it; and then the inhabitants, for the most part,
+have a convenient way of buying their coal by the basket. How much
+trouble it would save, if we would all buy our coal by the basket!
+
+A few doors up the place a passageway makes off to the right, through a
+high wooden gate that is usually open; and at the upper corner of this
+passage stands a brick house, whose perpetually closed blinds suggest
+the owner's absence. But the householders of Madeira Place do not absent
+themselves, even in summer; they could hardly get much nearer to the
+sea. And if you will take the pains to seat yourself, toward the close
+of day, upon an opposite doorstep, between two rows of clamorous little
+girls sliding, with screams of painful joy, down the rough hammered
+stone, to the improvement of their clothing, you will see that the house
+is by-no means untenanted.
+
+Every evening it is much the same thing. First, following close upon the
+heels of sunset, comes a grizzly, tall, and slouching man, in the cap
+and blouse of a Union soldier, bearing down with his left hand upon
+a cane, and dragging his left foot heavily behind him, while with his
+right hand he holds by a string a cluster of soaring toy balloons, and
+also drags, by its long wooden tongue, a rude child's cart, in which is
+a small hand-organ.
+
+Next will come, most likely, a dark, bent, keen-eyed old woman, with her
+parchment face shrunk into deep wrinkles. She bears a dangling placard,
+stating, in letters of white upon a patent-leather background, what you
+might not otherwise suspect,--that she was a soldier under the great
+Napoleon, and fought with him at Waterloo. She also bears, since
+music goes with war, a worn accordion. She is the old woman to whose
+shrivelled, expectant countenance you sometimes offer up a copper coin,
+as she kneels by the flagged crossway path of the Park.
+
+She is succeeded, perhaps, by a couple of black-haired, short,
+broad-shouldered men, leading a waddling, unconcerned bear, and talking
+earnestly together in a language which you will hardly follow.
+
+Then you will see six or eight or ten other sons and daughters of toil,
+most of them with balloons.
+
+All these people will turn, between the high, ball-topped gate-posts,
+into the alley, and descend at once to the left, by a flight of three or
+four steps, to a side basement door.
+
+As they begin to flock in, you will see through the alley gate a dark,
+thick-set man, of middle age, but with very little hair, come and stand
+at the foot of the steps, in the doorway. It is Sorel, the master of the
+house; for this is the _Maison Sorel_. Some of his guests he greets
+with a Noachian deluge of swift French words and high-pitched cries of
+welcome. It is thus that he receives those capitalists, the bear-leaders
+from the Pyrenees; it is thus that he greets the grizzled man in the
+blue cap and blouse,--Fidèle the old soldier, Fidèle the pensioner, to
+whom a great government, far away, at Washington, doubtless with much
+else on its mind, never forgets to send by mail, each quarter-day
+morning, a special, personal communication, marked with Fidèle's own
+name, enclosing the preliminaries of a remittance: “Accept” (as it
+were) “this slight tribute.” “_Ah! que c'est un gouvernement! Voilà une
+république!_”
+
+Even a Frenchman may be proud to be an American!
+
+Most of his guests, however, Sorel receives with a mere pantomime
+of wide-opened eyes and extended hands and shrugged-up shoulders,
+accompanied by a long-drawn “_Eh!_” by which he bodies forth a thousand
+refinements of thought which language would fail to express. Does a
+fresh immigrant from the Cévennes bring back at night but one or two of
+the gay balloons with which she was stocked in the morning, or, better,
+none; or, on the other hand, does a stalwart man just from the rich Brie
+country return at sundown in abject despair, bringing back almost all
+of the red and blue globes which floated like a radiant constellation
+of hope about his head when he set forth in the early morning, Sorel can
+express, by his “_Eh!_” and some slight movement, with subtle exactness
+and with no possibility of being misapprehended, the precise shade of
+feeling with which the result inspires him.
+
+But there he stops. Nothing is said. Sorel is a philosopher: he has
+indicated volumes, and he will not dilute with language. One who has
+fired a little lead bullet does not need to throw after it a bushel of
+mustard-seed.
+
+The company, as they come in, one by one, wash their hands and faces,
+if they see fit, at the kitchen sink, and dry them on a long
+roller-towel,--a device adopted, probably, from the Americans. Then they
+retire to the room behind the kitchen, and seat themselves at a long
+table, at which the bear-leaders place themselves only after seeing
+their animal fed, in the coalhole, where he is quartered.
+
+At the supper-table all is joy, even with the hopeless. Fidèle beams
+with good-humor, and not infrequently is called on to describe, amid a
+general hush, for the benefit of some new-comer from “_la belle France_”
+ the quarterly receipt of the communication from Washington: how he stays
+at home that day, and shaves, and waits at the door for “_la poste_;”
+ how the gray-uniformed letter-carrier appears, hands out a letter “as
+large as that,” and nods smilingly to Fidèle: he, too, fought at “_la
+Montagne du Lookout_.” The amount of the sergeant's pension astonishes
+them, wonted as they are to the pecuniary treatment of soldiers in the
+Old World. “_Mais_, it is a fortune! Fidèle is a _vrai rentier!_ Ah!
+_une république comme ça!_”
+
+Generally, however, Fidèle contents himself at the evening meal with
+smiling good-humoredly on everybody and rapidly passing in, under his
+drooping mustache, spoonfuls of soup, morsels from the long French loaf,
+and draughts of lager beer; for only the rich can have wine in this
+country, and in the matter of drink an exile must needs lower his
+standard, as the prodigal lowered his.
+
+While Sorel and his wife and their busy maid fly in and out with
+_potage_ and _rôti_, “_t-r-r-rès succulent_,” the history of which we
+must not pry too deeply into, there is much excited conversation. You
+see at once that many amusing things happen to one who sells balloons
+all day upon the Park. And there are varied fortunes to recount. Such
+a lady actually wished to buy three for fifty cents! Such a
+“police-er-mann” is to be highly commended; such another looks with an
+evil eye upon all: he should truly be removed from office. There is a
+rumor that a license fee is to be required by the city.
+
+All this is food for discussion.
+
+After supper they all sit about the kitchen or in the alley-way,
+chatting, smoking. She who has been lucky in her sales basks in Sorel's
+favor. The unfortunate peasant from the Brie country feels the little
+bullet in his heart, and nurses a desperate resolution to redeem himself
+on the morrow: one must live.
+
+Sometimes, if you happen to pass there on a warm evening, you may see
+a young woman, rather handsome, sitting sidewise on the outer basement
+steps, looking absently before her, straight-backed, upright, with her
+hands clasped about one knee, with her skirt sweeping away: a picture of
+Alsace. I have never been able to find out who she is.
+
+One evening there is a little flutter among this brood. A gentleman,
+at the alley door, wishes to see M. Sorel. M. Sorel leads the gentleman
+out, through the alley gate, to the front street-door; then, retiring
+whence he came, he shortly appears from within at the front door,
+which opens only after a struggle. A knot of small boys has instantly
+gathered, apparently impressed with a vague, awful expectation that the
+gentleman about to enter will never come out. Realizing, however, that
+in that case there will be nothing to see, they slowly disperse when the
+door is closed, and resume their play.
+
+Sorel ushers the gentleman into the front parlor, which is Sorel's
+bedroom, which is also the storehouse of his merchandise, which is also
+the nursery. At this moment an infant is sleeping in a trundle-bed.
+
+The gentleman takes a chair. So does Sorel.
+
+The gentleman does not talk French. Fortunately, M. Sorel can speak the
+English: he has learned it in making purchases for his table.
+
+“I am an officer of the government,” says Mr. Fox, with a very sharp,
+distinct utterance, “in the custom-house. You know 'customhouse'?”
+
+M. Sorel does not commit himself. He is an importer of toys. One must
+be on his guard.
+
+Thereupon, a complicated explanation: this street, and that street,
+and the other street, and this building, and the market, and the great
+building standing here.
+
+Ah! yes! M. Sorel identifies the building. Then he is informed that many
+government officers are there. He knew it very well before.
+
+The conversation goes a step farther.
+
+Mr. Fox is one of those officers. The government is at present in need
+of a gentleman absolutely trustworthy, for certain important duties:
+perhaps to judge of silks; perhaps to oversee the weighing of sugar, of
+iron, of diamonds; perhaps to taste of wines. Who can say what service
+this great government may not need from its children!
+
+With some labor, since the English is only a translucent, and not a
+transparent medium to Sorel, this is made clear. Still the horizon is
+dark.
+
+Mr. Fox draws his chair nearer, facing Sorel, who looks uneasy: Sorel's
+feelings, to the thousandth degree of subdivision, are always declaring
+themselves in swift succession upon his face.
+
+Mr. Fox proceeds.
+
+“The great officer of the custom-house, the collector--”
+
+“_Le chef?_” interrupts Sorel.
+
+--yes, the _chef_ (Mr. Fox seizes upon the word and clings to it),--the
+_chef_ has been speaking anxiously to Mr. Fox about this vacancy: Mr.
+Fox is in the _chefs_ confidence.
+
+“Ah!” from Sorel, in a tone of utter bewilderment.
+
+“We must have,” the _chef_ had said to Mr. Fox,--“we must have for
+this place a noble man, a man with a large heart” (the exact required
+dimensions Mr. Fox does not give); “a man who loves his government, a
+man who has showed himself ready to die for her; we must have”--here Mr.
+Fox bends forward and lays his hand upon Sorel's knee, and looks him in
+the eye,--“we must have--_a soldier!_”
+
+“Ah!” says Sorel, moving his chair back a little, unconsciously, “_il
+faut un soldat!_ I un-'stan',--_le chef_ 'e boun' to 'ave one sol'ier!”
+
+Still no comprehension of the stranger's object. Curiosity, however,
+prompts Sorel at this point to an inquiry: “'Ow much 'e goin' pay 'im?”
+
+Mr. Fox suggests that he guess. M. Sorel guesses, boldly, and
+high,--almost insolently high,--eight dollars a week: she is so
+generous, _la République!_
+
+Higher!
+
+“Higher!” Sorel's eyes open. He guesses again, and recklessly: “_Dix
+dollars par semaine_; you know--ten dol-lar ever-y week.”
+
+Try again,--again,--again! He guesses,--madly now, as one risks his gold
+at Baden: twelve, fourteen, sixteen, eighteen.
+
+Yes, eighteen dollars a week, and more--a thousand dollars every year.
+
+Sorel wipes his brow. A thousand dollars in one year! It is like a
+temptation of the devil.
+
+Sorel ventures another inquiry. The _chef_ of the customhouse, esteeming
+the old sol'iers so highly, is an old sol'ier himself,--is it not so?
+He has fought for his country? Doubtless he has lost an arm. And Sorel
+instinctively lets his right arm hang limp, as if the sleeve were empty.
+
+No; the _chef_ was an editor and a statesman in the time of the war. He
+had greatly desired to go to fight, but his duties did not permit it.
+Still, he loves the old soldier.
+
+Another advance in the conversation, this time by Mr. Fox.
+
+The government, it seems, has now awakened, with deep distress, to the
+fact that one class of her soldiers she has hitherto forgotten. The
+government--that is, the _chef_ of the customhouse--had this very
+morning said to Mr. Fox that this class of old soldiers must be brought
+forward, for trust and for honor. “We must choose, for this vacant
+place,” the _chef_ had said,--here Mr. Fox brings his face forward in
+close proximity to Sorel's astonished countenance,--“we must have, not
+only an old soldier, but--_a Frenchman!_”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Such a soldier lives here,” says Mr. Fox; “is it not true? So brave, so
+honest, so modest, so faithful! Ready to die for his country; worthy of
+trust and worthy of reward!”
+
+“_Mais!_” with amazement. Yes, such a sol-'ier lives here. But can it be
+that monsieur refers to our Fidèle?
+
+Precisely so!
+
+Whereupon Sorel, hard, hairless, but French, weeps, and embraces Mr.
+Fox as the representative of the great government at Washington; and,
+weeping and laughing, leads him downstairs and presents him to Fidèle
+and to the bear-leaders, and opens a bottle of weak vinegar.
+
+Such an ovation as Fidèle receives! And such a generous government! To
+send a special messenger to seek out the old sergeant in his retirement!
+So thoughtful! But it is all of a piece with its unfailing care in the
+past.
+
+Fidèle begins, on the spot, to resume something of his former erectness
+and soldierly bearing; to shake off the stoop and slouch which lameness
+and the drawing about of his “_musique_” have given him. He wishes to
+tell the story of Lookout Mountain.
+
+As Mr. Fox is about to go, he recollects himself. Oh, by the way, one
+thing more. It is not pleasant to mingle sadness with rejoicing. But
+Mr. Fox is the reluctant bearer of a gentle reproach from the great
+government at Washington. Her French children,--are they not just a
+little remiss? And when she is so bountiful, so thoughtful!
+
+“_Mais_--how you mean?” (with surprise.)
+
+Why,--and there is a certain pathos in Mr. Fox's tone, as he stands
+facing Sorel, with the gaze of a loving, reproachful friend,--why, how
+many of the Frenchmen of this quarter are ever seen now at the pleasant
+gatherings of the Republicans, in the wardroom? The Republic, the
+Republicans,--it is all one. Is that quite kind to the Republic? Should
+not her French children, on their part, show filial devotion to the fond
+government?
+
+“_Mais_,” M. Sorel swiftly explains, “they are weary of going; they
+understand nothing. One sits and smokes a little while, and one talks;
+then one puts a little ticket into one's hand; one is jammed into a
+long file; one slips his ticket into a box; he knows not for whom he is
+voting; it is like a flock of sheep. What is the use of going?”
+
+Ah! that is the trouble? Then they are unjustly reproached. The
+government has indeed neglected to guide them. But suppose that some
+officer of the government--Mr. Fox himself, for instance--will be at the
+meeting? Then can M. Sorel induce those good French citizens to come?
+
+Induce them! They will be only too ready; in fact, at a word from M.
+Sorel, and particularly when the news of this great honor to Fidèle
+shall have spread abroad, twenty, thirty, forty will go to every
+meeting,--that is, if a friend be there to guide them. At the very next
+meeting, _monsieur_ shall see whether the great government's French
+children are neglectful!
+
+Whereupon the great government, in the person of Mr. Fox, then and
+there falls in spirit upon the neck of her French citizen-children,
+represented by Sorel and Fidèle, and full reconciliation is made.
+
+Yes, Mr. Fox will come again. M. Sorel must introduce him to those brave
+Frenchmen, his friends and neighbors; Mr. Fox must grasp them by
+the hand, one by one. Sorel must take him to the _Société des
+Franco-Américains_, where they gather. The government wishes to know
+them better. And (this in a confidential whisper) there may be other
+places to be filled. What! Suppose, now, that the government should some
+day demand the services of M. Sorel himself in the custom-house; and,
+since he is a business man, at a still larger salary than a thousand
+dollars a year!
+
+“Ah, _monsieur_” (in a tone of playful reproach), “_vous êtes un
+flatteur, n'est ce pas?_ You know,--I guess you giv'n' me taffy.”
+
+Such a hero as Fidèle is! No more balloons, no more carting about of
+“_ma musique_;” a square room upstairs, a bottle of wine at dinner,
+short hours, distinction,--in fine, all that the heart can wish.
+
+I have been speaking in the present: I should have spoken in the past.
+
+It was shortly after Fidèle's appointment--in the early autumn--that I
+first made his and Sorel's acquaintance.
+
+I was teaching in an evening school, not far from Madeira Place, and
+among my scholars was Sorel's only son, a boy of perhaps fourteen, whom
+his father had left behind, for a time, at school in France, and had but
+lately brought over. He was a shy, modest, intelligent little fellow,
+utterly out of place in his rude surroundings. From the pleasant village
+home-school, of which he sometimes told me, to the _Maison Sorel_, was a
+grating change.
+
+He was always waiting for me at the schoolroom door, and was always the
+last one to speak to me at closing. Perhaps I reminded him of some young
+usher whom he had known when life was more pleasant.
+
+If, however, the _Maison Sorel_ chafed Auguste, it was not for lack of
+affection on his father's part Sorel often came with him to the door of
+the school-room; and every night, rain or shine, he was there at nine to
+accompany him home. It was in this way that I first came to know Sorel;
+and whether it was from some kindness that Auguste may have thought
+I showed, or because I could talk a little French, Sorel took a great
+liking to me. At first, he and Auguste would walk with me a few blocks
+after school; then he would look in upon me for a few minutes at the
+law-office where I was studying, where I had a large anteroom to myself;
+finally, nothing would do but that I should visit him at his house. I
+had always been fond of strolling about the wharves, and I should have
+liked very well to stop occasionally at Sorel's, if I could have been
+allowed to sit in the kitchen and hear the general conversation. But
+this was not sufficient state for “M. le maître d'école.” I must be
+drawn off upstairs to the bedroom parlor, to hear of Auguste's virtues.
+Such devotion I have seldom seen. Sorel would have praised Auguste, with
+tears in his eyes, for hours together, if I would have stayed to listen.
+
+He had many things to show in that parlor. He had gyroscopes: and he
+would wind them up and set half-a-dozen of those anti-natural tops
+spinning straight out in the air for my diversion. There were great
+sacks of uninflated balloons, and delicate sheet-rubber, from which
+Sorel made up balloons. There were other curious things in rubber,--a
+tobacco-pouch, for example, in perfect outward imitation of an iron
+kilogramme-weight, with a ring to lift it by, warranted to create
+“immense surprise” among those who should lift it for iron;
+tobacco-pouches, too, in fac-simile of lobsters and crabs and reptiles,
+colored to nature, which Sorel assured me would cause roars of laughter
+among my friends: there was no pleasanter way, he said, of entertaining
+an evening company than suddenly to display one of these creatures,
+and make the ladies scream and run about. He presented me, at different
+times, with a gyroscope, a kilogramme-weight and a lobster with a blue
+silk lining.
+
+As time ran on, and, in the early winter, I began practice, Sorel
+brought me a little business. He had to sue two Graeco-Roman wrestlers
+for board and attach their box-office receipts. Some Frenchman had heard
+of a little legacy left him in the Calvados, and wanted me to look up
+the matter.
+
+Fidèle, too, came to me every quarter-day, to make oath before me to his
+pension certificate, and stopped and made a short call. He had little to
+say about France. His great romance had been the war, although it
+seemed to have fused itself into a hazy, high-colored dream of danger,
+excitement, suffering, and generous devotion. Tears always rose in his
+eyes when he spoke of “_la république?_”
+
+In those first days of practice, anything by the name of law business
+wore a halo, and I used to encourage Sorel's calls, partly for this
+reason and partly for practice in talking French with a common man. I
+hoped to go to France some day, and I wanted to be able then to talk not
+only with the grammatical, but with the dear people who say, “I guess
+likely,” and “How be you?” in French.
+
+Moreover, Sorel was rather amusing. He was something of a humorist. Once
+he came to tell me, excitedly, that Auguste was learning music: “_Il
+touche au violon,--mais_--'e play so _bien!_” And Sorel's eyes opened in
+wonder at the boy's quickness.
+
+“Who teaches him?” I asked. “Some Frenchman who plays in the theatre?”
+
+“_Mais_, no,” Sorel replied, with a broad drollery in his eye; “_un
+professeur d'occasion!_” It was a ruined music-teacher, engaged now
+in selling balloons from Madeira Place, who was the “_professeur
+d'occasion_.”
+
+One day Sorel appeared with a great story to tell. Auguste, it seemed,
+had wearied of home, and was determined to go to sea. Nothing could
+deter him. Whereupon M. Sorel had hit upon a stratagem. He had hunted
+up, somewhere along the wharves, two French sailors with conversational
+powers, and had retained them to stay at his house for two or three
+days, as chance comers. It was inevitable that Auguste should ply them
+with eager questions,--and they knew their part.
+
+As Sorel, entering into the situation now with all his dramatic nature,
+with his eyes wide open, repeated to me some of the tales of horror
+which they had palmed off upon innocent Auguste as spontaneous truth, I
+could see, myself, the rigging covered with ice an inch thick; sailors
+climbing up (“Ah! _comme ils grimpent,--ils grimpent!_”) bare-handed,
+their hands freezing to the ropes at every touch, and leaving flesh
+behind, “_comme_ if you put your tongue to a lam'post in the winter.”
+ I could see the seamen's backs cut up with lashes for the slightest
+offences; I tasted the foul, unwholesome food. I think that Sorel half
+believed it all himself,--his imagination was so powerful,--forgetting
+that he had paid in silver coin for every word of it. At any rate, the
+ruse had been successful. Auguste had been thoroughly scared and had
+consented to stay at home, and the most threatening cloud of Sorel's
+life had blown over.
+
+Usually, however, Sorel and I talked politics; and to our common
+pleasure we generally agreed. Sorel knew very little about the details
+of our government, and he would listen to me with the utmost eagerness
+while I practised my French upon him, explaining to his wondering mind
+the relations of the States to each other and to the general government,
+and the system of State and Federal courts. He was very quick, and he
+took in the ingenious scheme with great facility. Then he would tell me
+about the workings of government in the French villages and departments;
+and as he read French papers, he had always something in the way of news
+or explanation of recent events. I have since come to believe that he
+was exceedingly well informed.
+
+The most singular thing about him to me was how he could cherish on the
+one hand such devotion as he plainly did, to France, and on the other
+hand such a passionate attachment to the United States. In truth, that
+double patriotism is one of the characteristic features of our country.
+
+I could lead him, in twenty minutes, through the whole gamut of emotion,
+by talking about Auguste, and then of politics. It was irresistible,
+the temptation to lead him out. A word about Auguste, and he would wipe
+tears from his eyes. A mention of Gambetta, and the bare idea filled
+him with enthusiasm; he was instantly, in imagination, one of a surging
+crowd, throwing his hat in the air, or drawing Gambetta's carriage
+through the streets of Paris. I had only to speak of Alsace to bring
+him to a mood of sullen ugliness and hatred. He was, I have no doubt,
+a pretty good-tempered man; he was certainly warm-hearted; his apparent
+harshness to his balloon-venders was probably nothing more than
+necessary parental severity, and he was always ready to recognize their
+successes. But I have never seen a more wicked and desperate expression
+than an allusion to Alsace called up in his face and in his whole
+bearing. Sometimes he would laugh, when I mentioned the severed
+province; but it was with a hard, metallic, cruel laugh.' He felt the
+loss as he would have felt the loss of a limb. The first time I brought
+up the topic, I saw the whole bitter story of the dismembering of
+France.
+
+There was another subject which called out that same bitter revengeful
+look, and that cruel nasal laugh,--the royalist factions and the
+Bonapartists. When we spoke of them, and I watched his face and heard
+his soulless laughter, I saw the French Revolution.
+
+But he could always be brought back to open childish delight and warmth
+by a reference to the United States. Our government, in his eyes,
+embodied all that was good. France was now a “_république_,” to be sure,
+and he rejoiced in the fact; but he plainly felt the power and settled
+stability of our republic, and he seemed to have a filial devotion
+toward it closely akin to his love for Auguste.
+
+How fortunate we were! Here were no _Légitimistes_, no _Orléanistes_, no
+_Bonapartistes_, for a perpetual menace! Here all citizens, however
+else their views might differ, believed, at least, in the republic,
+and desired to stay her hands. There were no factions here continually
+plotting in the darkness. Here the machinery of government was all in
+view, and open to discussion and improvement Ah, what a proud, happy
+country is this!”_Que c'est une république!_”
+
+I gathered enthusiasm myself from this stranger's ardor for the country
+of his adoption. I think that I appreciated better, through him, the
+free openness of our institutions. It is of great advantage to meet an
+intense man, of associations different from your own, who, by his very
+intensity and narrowness, instantly puts you at his standpoint. I viewed
+the United States from the shores of a sister republic which has
+to contend against strong and organized political forces not fully
+recognized in the laws, working beneath the surface, which nevertheless
+are facts.
+
+One acquaintance leads to another. Through Sorel, whose house was the
+final resort of Frenchmen in distress, and their asylum if they were
+helpless, not only Fidèle, but a number of other Frenchmen of that
+neighborhood, began to come to me with their small affairs. I was the
+_avocat_ who “speak French.” I am afraid that they were surprised at my
+“French” when they heard it.
+
+There was a willow-worker from the Pas-de-Calais, a deformed man,
+walking high and low, and always wanting to rise from his chair and lay
+his hand upon my shoulder, as he talked, who came to consult me about
+the recovery of a hundred francs which he had advanced at _Anvers_ to
+a Belgian tailor upon the pledge of a sewing-machine, on consideration
+that the tailor, who was to come in a different steamer, should take
+charge of the willow-worker's dog on the voyage: the willow-worker had a
+wife and six children to look after. This was a lofty contest; but I
+had time then. I found a little amusement in the case, and I had the
+advantage of two or three hours in all of practical French conversation
+with men thoroughly in earnest. Finally, I had the satisfaction of
+settling their dispute, and so keeping them from a quarrel.
+
+Then there was a French cook, out of a job, who wanted me to find him a
+place. He was gathering mushrooms, meanwhile, for the hotels. One day he
+surprised me by coming into my office in a white linen cap, brandishing
+in his hand a long, gleaming knife. He only desired, however, to tell
+me that he had found a place at one of the clubs, and to show, in his
+pride, the shining blade which he had just bought as his equipment.
+
+But the man who impressed me most, after Sorel, was Carron. He first
+appeared as the friend of the cook,--whom he introduced to me, with many
+flourishes and compliments, although he was an utter stranger himself.
+Carron was a well-built and rather handsome man, of medium height,
+and was then perhaps fifty years of age. He had a remarkably bright,
+intelligent face, curling brown hair, and a full, wavy brown beard. He
+kept a rival boarding-house, not far from Sorel's, in a gabled wooden
+house two hundred years old, which was anciently the home of an eminent
+Puritan divine. In the oak-panelled room where the theologian wrote his
+famous tract upon the Carpenter who Profanely undertook to Dispense the
+Word in the way of Public Ministration, and was Divinely struck Dumb in
+consequence, Carron now sold beer from a keg.
+
+It was plain at a glance that his present was not of a piece with his
+past I could not place him. His manners were easy and agreeable, and
+yet he was not a gentleman. He was well informed, and evidently of some
+mental training, and yet he was not quite an educated man. After his
+first visit to me, with the cook, he, too, occasionally looked in upon
+me, generally late in the afternoon, when I could call the day's work
+done and could talk French for half an hour with him, in place of taking
+a walk. He was strongly dramatic, like Sorel, but in a different
+way. Sorel was intense; Carron was _théâtral_. He was very fond of
+declamation; and seeing from the first my wish to learn French,--which
+Sorel would never very definitely recognize,--he often recited to me,
+for ear practice, and in an exceedingly effective way, passages from the
+Old Testament. He seemed to know the Psalms by heart. He was a good deal
+of an actor, and he took the part of a Hebrew prophet with great effect.
+But his fervor was all stage fire, and he would turn in an instant from
+a denunciatory Psalm to a humorous story. Even his stories were of
+a religious cast, like those which ministers relate when they gather
+socially. He told me once about a priest who was strolling along the
+bank of the Loire, when a drunken sailor accosted him and reviled him as
+a lazy good-for-nothing, a _fainéant_, and slapped his face. The priest
+only turned the other cheek to him. “Strike again,” he said; and the
+sailor struck. “Now, my friend,” said the priest, “the Scripture tells
+us that when one strikes us we are to turn the other cheek. There
+it ends its instruction and leaves us to follow our own judgment.”
+ Whereupon, being a powerful man, he collared the sailor and plunged him
+into the water. He told me, too, with great unction, and with a roguish
+gleam in his eye, a story of a small child who was directed to prepare
+herself for confession, and, being given a manual for self-examination,
+found the wrong places, and appeared with this array of sins: “I have
+been unfaithful to my marriage vows.... I have not made the tour of my
+diocese.”
+
+Carron had an Irish wife (_une Irlandaise_), much younger than he, whom
+he worshipped. He told me, one day, about his courtship. When he first
+met her, she knew not a word of French, and he not a word of English.
+He was greatly captivated (épris), and he had to contrive some mode of
+communication. They were both Catholics. He had a prayer-book with Latin
+and French in parallel columns; she had a similar prayer-book but in
+Latin and English. They would seat themselves; Carron would find in his
+prayer-book a sentence in French which would suit his turn, on a pinch,
+and through the medium of the Latin would find the corresponding passage
+in English in Norah's prayer-book and point it out to her. Norah, in
+her turn, would select and point out some passage in English which would
+serve as a tribute to Carron's charms, and he would discover in his
+prayer-book, in French, what that tribute was. Why should we deem the
+dead languages no longer a practical study, when Latin can gain for a
+Frenchman an Irish wife!
+
+Carron, as I have said, puzzled me. He had not the pensive air of one
+who has seen better days. He was more than cheerful in his present life:
+he was full of spirits; and yet it was plain that he had been brought
+up for something different. I asked him once to tell me, for French
+lessons, the story of his life. With the most charming complaisance, he
+at once consented; but he proceeded in such endless detail, the first
+time, in an account of his early boyhood in a strict Benedictine
+monastery school, in the south of France, as to suggest that he was
+talking against time. And although his spirited and amusing picture of
+his childhood days only awakened my curiosity, I could never persuade
+him to resume the history. It was always “the next time.”
+
+He seemed to be poor: but he never asked a favor except for others. On
+the contrary, he brought me some little business. A _Belge_ had been
+cheated out of five hundred dollars; I recovered half of it for him.
+A Frenchman from _le Midi_ had bought out a little business, and the
+seller had immediately set up shop next door; I succeeded in shutting up
+the rival. I was a prodigy.
+
+After a time I was told something further as to Carron's life. He had
+been a Capuchin monk, in a monastery at or near Paris. The instant that
+I heard this statement, I felt in my very soul that it was true. My
+eye had always missed something in Carron. I now knew exactly what it
+was,--a shaved crown, bare feet, and a cowl.
+
+It was the usage for the brethren of his order to go about Paris
+barefoot, begging. They were not permitted by the _concierges_ to go
+into the great apartment hotels. But “Carron, _il est très fin_,” said
+my informant; “you know,--'e is var' smart.” Carron would learn, by
+careful inquiry, the name of a resident on an upper floor; then he would
+appear at the _concierge's_ door, and would mention the name of this
+resident with such adroit, demure, and absolute confidence that he would
+be permitted at once to ascend. Once inside, he would go the rounds of
+the apartments. So he would get five times as much in a day as any of
+his fellows. A certain amount of the receipts he would yield up to the
+treasury of the monastery; the rest he kept for himself. After a while
+this came to be suspected, and he quietly withdrew to a new country.
+
+There was not the slightest tangible corroboration of this story. It
+might have been the merest gossip or the invention of an enemy. But it
+fitted Carron so perfectly, that from the day I heard it I could never,
+somehow, question its substantial truth. If I had questioned it, I
+should have repeated the story to him, to give him an opportunity to
+answer. But something warned me not to do so.
+
+Fidèle held on well at the custom-house, and I think that he became a
+general favorite. No one who took the old soldier by the hand and looked
+him in the eye could question his absolute honesty; and as for skill in
+his duties,--well, it was the custom-house.
+
+But he was not saving much money. He was free to give and free to lend
+to his fellow-countrymen; and, moreover, various ways were pointed
+out to him by Mr. Fox, from time to time, in which an old soldier,
+delighting to aid his country, could serve her pecuniarily. The
+republic,--that is, the Republicans,--it was all one.
+
+One afternoon, late in summer, Fidèle appeared at my office. He seldom
+visited me, except quarterly for his pension affidavit. As he came in
+now, I saw that something had happened. His grisly face wore the same
+kindly smile that it had always borne, but the light had gone out of it.
+His story was short. He had lost his place. He had been notified that
+his services would not be needed after Saturday. No reason had been
+given him; he was simply dismissed in humiliation. There must be some
+misunderstanding, such as occurs between the warmest friends. And was
+not the great government his friend? Did it not send him his pension
+regularly? Had it not sent a special messenger to seek him out, in his
+obscurity, for this position; and was he not far better suited to it now
+than at the outset?
+
+In reply to questions from me, he told me more about Mr. Fox's first
+visit than I had hitherto known. I asked him, in a casual way, about the
+ward-meetings, and whether the French citizens generally attended them.
+No, they had been dropping off; they had become envious, perhaps, of
+him; they had formed a club, with Carron for president, and had voted to
+act in a body (_en solidarité_).
+
+Then I told Fidèle that I knew no way to help him, and that I feared his
+dismission was final. He could not understand me, but went away, leaning
+on his cane, dragging his left foot sidewise behind him, with something
+of the air of an old faithful officer who has been deprived of his
+sword.
+
+He had not been gone more than an hour, when the door opened again, and
+Carron looked in. Seeing that I was alone, he closed the door and walked
+very slowly toward my desk,--erect, demure, impassive, looking straight
+forward and not at me, with an air as if he were bearing a candle in
+high mass, intoning, as he came, a passage from the Psalms: “_Je me
+ré-jouirai; je partagerai Sichem, et je mesurerai la vallée de Succoth.
+Galaad sera à moi, Manassé sera à moi.... Moab sera le bassin où je
+me laverai et je jetterai mon soulier sur Édom.... Qui est-ce qui me
+conduira dans la ville forte? Qui est-ce qui me conduira jusquen Édom?_”
+ (I will rejoice; I will divide Shechem and mete out the valley of
+Succoth. Gilead is mine; Ma-nasseh is mine.... Moab is my washpot; over
+Edom will I cast out my shoe.... Who will bring me into the strong city?
+Who will lead me into Edom?)
+
+Carron propounded the closing inquiry with great unction; his manner
+expressed entire confidence that some one would be found to lead him
+into the strong city, to lead him into Edom.
+
+I had lost something of my interest in Carron since I had heard the
+story of his Parisian exploits; but I could not help being amused at his
+manner. It portended something. He made no disclosure, however. Whatever
+he had to tell, he went away without telling it, contenting himself
+for the present with intimating by his triumphal manner that great good
+fortune was in the air.
+
+On Saturday afternoon, as I was about closing my desk,--a little earlier
+than usual, for it was a most tempting late September day, and the waves
+of the harbor, which I could just see from my office window, called
+loudly to me,--Sorel appeared. I held out my hand, but he affected not
+to see it, and he sat down without a word. He was plainly disturbed and
+somewhat excited.
+
+Of course I knew that it was his old friend's misfortune which weighed
+upon him; he was proud and fond of Fidèle.
+
+I seated myself, and waited for him to speak. In a moment he began, with
+a low, hard laugh: “_Semble que notre bon Fidèle a sa démission_: you
+know,--our Fidèle got bounced!”
+
+Yes, I said, Fidèle had told me so, and I was very sorry to hear it.
+
+“_Evidemment_” (this in a tone of irony) “_il faut un homme plus juste,
+plus loyale, que le pauvre Fidèle!_ (You know,--they got to 'ave one more
+honester man!) _Bien!_ You know who goin' 'ave 'is place?”
+
+I shook my head.
+
+Sorel laid down his hat, and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. Then
+he went on, no longer speaking in French and then translating,--his
+usual concession to my supposed desires,--but mostly now in
+quasi-English: “_Mais_, you thing this great _gouvernement_ wan' hones'
+men work for her, _n'est-ce pas?_”
+
+“The government ought to have the most honest men,” I said.
+
+“_Bien_. Now you thing the _gouvernement_ boun' to 'ave some men w'at
+mos' know the business, _n'est-ce pas?_”
+
+“It ought to have them.”
+
+Sorel wiped his brow again. “Now, w'ich you thing the mos' honestes'
+man,--Fidèle, or-- _Carron?_ W'ich you thing know the business
+bes',--Fidèle, w'at been there, or Carron, w'at ain' been there?”
+
+“Fidèle, of course.”
+
+“Then tell me, w'at for they bounce' our Fidèle, and let Carron got 'is
+place?” and he burst into a harsh, resonant, contemptuous laugh. In
+a moment he resumed: “Now,” he said, “I only got one more thing to ax
+you,” and taking his felt hat in his hands, he held it on his knees,
+before him, and stooping a little forward, eyed me closely: “You know
+w'at we talk sometimes, you an' me, 'bout our Frensh _république_--some
+_Orléanistes_, some _Légitimistes_, some _Bonapartistes?_ You merember
+'ow we talk, you and me?”
+
+I nodded,
+
+“We ain' got no _Orléanistes_, no _Bonapartistes' ici_, in this
+_gouvernement, n'est-ce pas?_”
+
+I intimated that I had never met any.
+
+“Now,” he proceeded, with an increased bitterness in his tone and his
+hard smile, “I use' thing you one good frien' to me, _mais_, you been
+makin' fool of me all that time!”
+
+“You don't think any such thing,” I said.
+
+“You know,” he went on, “who bounce our Fidèle?”
+
+“No.”
+
+Sorel received my reply with a low, incredulous laugh. Then he laid his
+hat down on the floor, drew his chair closer, held out his finger,
+and, with the air of one who shows another that he knows his secret he
+demanded:--
+
+“_Qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un 'Boss'?_”
+
+I sat silent for a moment, looking at him, not knowing just what to say.
+
+“_Mais_,” he went on, “all the _Américains_” (they were chiefly Irish)
+“roun' my 'ouse been tellin' me, long time, '_Le_ Boss goin' bounce
+Fidèle.' Me, I laugh w'en they say so. I say, '_Le Boss? C'est un
+créature d'imagination, pour nous effrayer,' you know, make us scart
+'_C'est un loup-garou,' you know,--w'at make 'fraid li'l chil'ren.
+That's w'at I tell them. I thing then you would n't been makin' fool of
+me.'
+
+“They don't know what they are talking about,” I said. “How can they
+know why Fidèle is removed?”
+
+“_Mais_, you jus' wait; I goin' tell you. I fin they do know. Fidèle
+take he sol'ier-papers, an' he go see _le chef_” (here Sorel rose, and
+acted Fidèle). “Fidèle, 'e show 'is papers to _le chef_; 'e say, 'Now
+you boun' tell me why _le bon gouvernement_, w'at 's been my frien',
+bounce me now.' 'E say _le chef_ boun' to tell 'im,--_il faut
+absolument!_ 'E say 'e won' go, way if _le chef_ don' tell 'im; an' you
+know, no man can't scare our Fidèle!”
+
+“Very well,” I said; “what did the collector, the _chef_ tell him?
+Fidèle is too lame, I suppose?”
+
+“_Mais, non_,” with a suspicious smile. “_Le chef_, he mos' cry,--yas,
+sar,--an' 'e say 'e ain' got no trouble 'gainst Fidèle; _la république_,
+she ain' got no trouble 'gainst Fidèle. 'E say 'e di'n want Fidèle to
+go; _le gouvernement_, she d'n want 'im to go. _Mais_, 'e say, 'e can't
+help hisself; _le gouvernement_, she can't help herself. Yas, sar. Then
+Fidèle know w'at evarybody been tellin' us was true,--'e 'Boss,' 'e make
+'im go!” And Sorel sat back in his chair.
+
+“Now, I ax you one time more,” he resumed: “_qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un
+'Boss'?_”
+
+What could I say! How could I explain, offhand, to this stranger, the
+big boss, the little boss, the State boss, the ward boss, the county
+boss, all burrowing underneath our theoretical government! How could
+I explain to him that Fidèle's department in the custom-house had been
+allotted to a Congressman about to run for a second term, who needed it
+to control a few more ward-meetings,--needed, in the third ward caucus,
+those very French votes which Carron had been shrewd enough to steal
+away and organize! What could I say to Sorel which he, innocent as he
+was, would not misconstrue as inconsistent with our past glorifications
+of our republic! What did I say! I do not know. I only remember that he
+interrupted me, harshly and abruptly, as he rose to go.
+
+“You an' me got great _pitié_, ain' we,” he said, “for _notre France, la
+pauvre France_, 'cause she got so many folks w'at _tourbillonnent sous
+la surface,--les Orléanistes les Bonapartistes_; don' we say so? _Mais,
+il n'y en a pas, ici_,--you know, we ain' got none here; don' we say
+so? We ain' got no _factionnaires_ here! _Mais non!_” Then, lowering his
+voice to a hoarse whisper: “_Votre bonne république,_” he said,--“_c'est
+une république du théâtre!_”
+
+He had hardly closed the door behind him, when he opened it again, and
+put in his head, and with his hard, mocking laugh, demanded, “_Qu'est-ce
+que c'est qu'un 'Boss'?_” And as he walked down the hall, I could still
+hear his scornful laughter.
+
+He never came to see me again. I sometimes heard of him through Carron,
+who had succeeded to Fidèle's position and had elevated a considerable
+part of his following: for several weeks they were employed at three
+dollars a day in the navy-yard, where, to their utter mystification,
+they moved, with a certain planetary regularity, ship-timber from the
+west to the east side of the yard, and then back from the east side to
+the west. You remember reading about this in the published accounts of
+our late congressional contest.
+
+Though Sorel never visited me again, I occasionally saw him: once near
+the evening-school, when I went as a guest; once in the long market;
+once in the post-office; and once he touched me on the shoulder, as
+I was leaning over the street railing, by the dock, looking down at a
+Swedish bark. Each time he had but one thing to say; and having said it,
+he would break into his harsh, ironical laugh, and pass along:--
+
+“_Qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un 'Boss'?_”
+
+And Fidèle?
+
+Still, if you will go to Madeira Place at sunset, you may see the cap
+and blouse come slowly in. Still the old sergeant sits at the head of
+the table. But his ideal is gone; his idol has clay feet. No longer does
+he describe to new-comers from France the receipt of his pension. All
+the old fond pride in it is gone, and he takes the money now as dollars
+and cents.
+
+In the conversation, however, around the table the great government at
+Washington is by no means forgotten. Sometimes Sorel tells his guests
+about the Boss.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Madeira Place, by Heman White Chaplin
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