Lost Illusions (Penguin Classics) (69 page)

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14. Keeping the fire going
 

L
IKE
all man-made things, French legal procedure has its defects. None the less, like a two-edged sword, it is useful both for defence and attack. In addition it has an amusing feature: if two solicitors are on good terms with each other (they can be so without exchanging two words since they understand each other through the simple routine of the procedure they follow), a law-suit in that case is like war as waged by the first Maréchal de Biron who, when his son, during the siege of Rouen, proposed a plan for taking the town in two days, replied: ‘You’re in a hurry to get home, aren’t you?’ Two generals can make a war drag on for ever by making no decisive moves and sparing their troops in accordance with the method followed by Austrian generals, whom the Aulic Council never reprimands for letting a plan of action miscarry in order that their soldiers need not miss a meal. Petit-Claud and Doublon went one better than any Austrian general – they modelled themselves on an Austrian of ancient times, Fabius
Cunctator!

Petit-Claud, who was as unreliable as a mule, was not slow to recognize all the advantages of his position. Once tall Cointet had guaranteed that all his costs would be paid, he set his mind on hoodwinking Cachan and showing the paper-manufacturer how clever he was by creating difficulties for which Métivier would have to foot the bill. Unfortunately for the glory of this young Figaro of the legal confraternity, the historian must glide over the field of his exploits as swiftly as if he were treading on live coals. But no doubt one single memorandum of costs, typical of Parisian procedure, will suffice for this history of contemporary manners. Let us therefore imitate the style of the bulletins of the Grande-Armée. The more succinct our account of Petit-Claud’s feats, the better this page of exclusively judicial information will be for the understanding of the story.

Summoned before the Commercial Court of Angoulême
on 3 July, David failed to appear: on 8 July he was notified that judgment had been passed against him. On the 10th, Doublon issued the order to pay and, on the 12th, made an attempt at distraint which Petit-Claud opposed by serving Métivier with a new summons for that day fortnight. The next day Métivier, objecting to such long delay, countered with a peremptory summons and, on the 19th, obtained a judgment rejecting David’s demand for stay of execution. This judgment, notified point-blank on the 21st, authorized an order to pay on the 22nd, a writ for David’s arrest on the 23rd and the drawing-up of an inventory for distraint on the 24th. Then Petit-Claud put the brake on this feverish haste for distraint by applying to the Court of Appeal for another stay of execution. This appeal, repeated on the 15 July, meant that Métivier’s case had to go to Poitiers.

‘So far so good!’ Petit-Claud said to himself. ‘The matter will remain at that stage for quite a time.’

Once the storm had been diverted to Poitiers and the case was in the hands of an advocate of the appeal court briefed by Petit-Claud, this two-faced champion of the Séchard cause induced Eve to take summary proceedings against David for the separation of their estates. To use the current legal jargon, he ‘expedited’ the affair so as to obtain the judgment of separation on 28 July, inserted it in the
Courrier de la Charente,
gave due notification of it and, on 1 August, the settlement of Madame Séchard’s claim was officially carried through: it recognized her as her husband’s creditor for the paltry sum of ten thousand francs which the loving David had acknowledged as her dowry in the marriage contract. In discharge of this debt he made over to her the stock-in-trade of the printing-office and the household furniture.

While Petit-Claud was thus safeguarding the family goods and chattels, he was also successfully establishing at Poitiers the contention on which he had based his appeal. He was arguing that David ought not to be liable for the costs incurred in the Paris proceedings against Lucien de Rubempré, because the Civil Court there had judged that they fell to Métivier’s charge. This view of the matter, adopted by the
Court, was embodied in an order which confirmed the decisions taken against Séchard junior by the Commercial Court of Angoulême while making a rebate on the Paris costs which were charged to Métivier, thus balancing a portion of the costs between the contending parties in recognition of the point of law which had motivated the Séchard appeal. This decision, notified on 17 August to Séchard junior, was implemented on the 18th by a summons to pay the capital, the interest on it and the costs incurred, and by a writ for distraint on the 20th. At that juncture Petit-Claud intervened on Madame Séchard’s behalf and claimed the furniture as belonging to the consort, whose property had been formally sequestrated. What is more, Petit-Claud brought Séchard senior, now his client, into the case, for the following reason:

The day after his daughter-in-law’s visit, the vine-grower had come to Angoulême to consult his solicitor, Maître Cachan, on means to be adopted in order to recover his rent payments, jeopardized by the legal wrangles in which his son was involved.

Cachan told him: ‘I cannot act for the father while I am suing the son. But go and see Petit-Claud. He’s a very able man and will probably serve you even better than I could.’ And when they met in court, Cachan said to Petit-Claud: ‘I’ve sent old Séchard to you. Take him on instead of me on a give-and-take basis.’ – In the provinces as in Paris, solicitors do one another these mutual services.

The day after old Séchard had entrusted his interests to Petit-Claud, tall Cointet came to see his accomplice and said: ‘Try and teach old Séchard a lesson! He’s the sort of man who’ll never forgive his son for landing him in for a thousand francs’ costs: a disbursement like that will dry up any generous impulse in his heart, even if he had one!’

‘Go back to your vineyards,’ Petit-Claud told his new client. ‘Your son is in difficulties. Don’t sponge on him by eating his food. I’ll send for you when the time comes.’

And so, in Séchard’s name, Petit-Claud claimed that the presses now under seal were real estate thanks to the purpose they served, the more so because the building itself had been
a printing-office since the reign of Louis XIV. Cachan, indignant on Métivier’s behalf – after finding that Lucien’s furniture in Paris belonged to Coralie, Métivier was now discovering that David’s furniture in Angoulême belonged to his wife and father (some cutting remarks were made about this at the hearing) – proceeded against both father and son with a view to demolishing their claims. ‘Our aim,’ he vociferated in Court, ‘is to unmask the frauds of these men who are building up a most formidable defence-work of bad faith and entrenching themselves behind the clearest and most straightforward articles of the Code. And for what purpose? To avoid paying three thousand francs which have been rifled from the unfortunate Métivier’s coffers. And people dare to accuse the discount-brokers!… In what times are we living?… In fact, I ask you, gentlemen, is there not a general scramble to lay hands on one’s neighbour’s money?… You will certainly not sanction a claim which would bring immorality into the very heart of justice!…’ The Angoulême court, moved by Cachan’s eloquent plea, gave a judgment, after a full hearing, which ceded the ownership of only movable furniture to Madame Séchard, rejected the claims of Séchard senior and flatly ordered him to pay four hundred and thirty-four francs and sixty-five centimes in costs.

‘Old Séchard is good for the money,’ the solicitors said with a laugh. ‘He insisted on putting his foot in it. Let him pay!…’

Notice of the judgment was given on 26 August, which meant that the presses and appurtenances of the printing-office could be put under distraint on the 28th. The placards were duly posted. An order was applied for and obtained for the sale to take place on the premises. An announcement of the sale was inserted in the newspapers, and Doublon flattered himself that he would be able to proceed with the verification of the inventory and hold the sale on September 2nd.

David now owed Métivier, by formal judgment and valid writs of execution – quite legally in fact – the lump sum of five thousand two hundred francs and twenty-five centimes
exclusive of interest. He owed Petit-Claud twelve hundred francs plus his fees, the figure for which, by analogy with the noble trustfulness of a cabman who has driven fast to satisfy his customer, was left to his generosity. Madame Séchard owed Petit-Claud about three hundred and fifty francs, and fees into the bargain. Old Séchard’s debt came to four hundred and thirty-four francs and sixty-five centimes, and Petit-Claud also demanded three hundred francs from him in fees. The whole thus amounted to some ten thousand francs.

Apart from the use these particulars may serve in enabling foreign nations to witness the play of judicial artillery fire in France, it is highly desirable that our Parliamentary legislators, supposing of course that legislators have time for reading, should know how far the abuse of legal procedure can go. Should not some minor enactment be speedily passed which in certain cases would forbid solicitors to let costs exceed the sum with which the law-suit is dealing? Is there not something absurd in subjecting a property of one square metre to the same formalities as govern a piece of land worth a million? This very terse account of all the phases through which the Séchard proceedings passed will enlighten readers about the value of such terms as
rules of procedure, justice
and
costs!
All this is double Dutch to the vast majority of Frenchmen. It is all part and parcel of what the legal confraternity calls ‘setting a man’s business on fire’. David’s printing type, five thousand pounds in weight, was worth two thousand francs for the metal it contained. The three presses were worth six hundred francs. The rest of the plant might just as well have been sold off as scrap-iron or mouldy wood. The household furniture would have fetched a thousand francs at most. Thus, of values belonging to David Séchard and representing a total of about four thousand francs, Cachan and Petit-Claud had made a pretext for extorting seven thousand francs in costs without reckoning in future perquisites – and the buds in blossom promised very fine fruit, as will be seen. Certainly legal practitioners in the kingdom of France and Navarre – those in Normandy above all – will accord their esteem
and admiration to Petit-Claud. But will not good-hearted people spare a tear of sympathy for people like Kolb and Marion?

While this conflict went on, Kolb, sitting in a chair by the alley door so long as David did not need him, carried out his duties as watch-dog. He took in the official writs, though always under the surveillance of one of Petit-Claud’s clerks. When placards announcing the sale of the printing-house stock were affixed, Kolb tore them down as fast as the bill-poster stuck them up. He even rushed through the town to do the same there, crying out the while: ‘Ze scountrelss!… Plaquink so goot a man!… Ant zey call zat tchustice!’ In the mornings Marion was earning fifty centimes turning a wheel in a paper-mill and she used them for the daily expenses. Madame Chardon had uncomplainingly resumed the exhausting vigils of her profession as a nurse, and every weekend she handed her wages over to her daughter. She had already made two novenas, but was astonished to find God deaf to her prayers and blind to the gleam of the candles she lit.

15. Climax
 

O
N
3 September Eve received the only letter Lucien wrote to her after the one in which he had announced the circulation of the three bills drawn on his brother-in-law and which David had concealed from his wife.

‘And this is only the third letter I’ve had from him since he left us!’ Lucien’s afflicted sister said to herself as she hesitatingly unsealed the fatal screed. At that moment, she was giving her child his milk – she was bottle-feeding him, for she had not been able to afford to keep on the wet-nurse. One can imagine the state she was in after reading the following letter; David also, whom she woke up. After spending the night at his paper-making, the inventor had gone to bed at about daybreak.

My dear sister,

Two days ago, at five in the morning, one of God’s loveliest creatures breathed her last: the only woman who was capable of loving me as you, David and my mother love me, and who added to such affectionate feeling what a mother and sister could not give – all the bliss of passionate love! Coralie sacrificed everything to me and probably died because of me. For me, who at present haven’t even the money for her funeral! She would have consoled me for the fact of being alive; you alone, dear angels, will be able to console me for her death. This innocent-hearted girl has, I believe, received absolution from her Maker, for she died a Christian death.

Oh, Paris!… My Eve, Paris is at once the glory and all the infamy of France. I have lost many illusions here, and I shall lose many more as I go about begging for the little money I need in order to bury an angel’s body in consecrated ground!

Your unhappy brother,

LUCIEN.

 

P.S. I must have brought you much sorrow through my frivolity: one day you will know all and forgive me. In any case, you need not worry. When he saw that Coralie and I were in such straits, a worthy merchant of the name of Camusot whom I had caused much cruel affliction, undertook, so he said, to settle this affair.

‘The letter is still wet with his tears!’ said Eve to David, and she looked at him with so much pity that some gleam of his former affection for Lucien showed in his eyes also.

‘Poor boy, he must have suffered very much if he was loved as he says he was,’ exclaimed the man who had found happiness in marriage.

And both husband and wife forgot their own sorrows, faced as they were with this cry of incomparable grief. At that moment Marion rushed in and said: ‘Madame, here they are!… Here they are!’

BOOK: Lost Illusions (Penguin Classics)
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