here could be no
other reason for their giving him the 'Legion of Honour,' and appointing
him to a puisne judgeship on the bench of Riom, seeing that he had
neither made an heroic defence of his property, nor endeavoured to carry
out the provisions of the census bill by armed force. In fact, the
latter step would have been an impossibility on Conchon's part. You and
I know well enough how difficult it is to make Frenchmen hold their
tongues by means of troops; to endeavour to make them speak--in
distinction to yelling--by similar means is altogether out of the
question. You cannot take every head of a family, even in a
comparatively small town like Clermont-Ferrand, and put him between two
gendarmes to make him tell you his name, his age, and those of his
family. I fancy, moreover, that Conchon was not at Clermont at all when
the mob made a bonfire of his dwelling; it was on a Sunday, and he had
probably gone into the country. At any rate, as I told you, they gave
him the cross and a judgeship. It never rains but it pours. Contrary to
the ordinary principles of French mobs of hating a man in proportion to
his standing well with the Government, they started a subscription to
indemnify Conchon for the loss of his house, which subscription amounted
to a hundred thousand francs.
"Conchon had become a somebody, and refused to give his daughter to a
mere provincial barrister now that he belonged to 'la magistrature
assise.'[58] The young people were, however, very fond of one another,
and had their way. They were a very handsome couple, and became the life
and soul of the best society of Clermont-Ferrand, which, exclusive as it
was, admitted them as they had admitted the widow of the elder brother.
The younger Madame Rouher was by no means as sprightly or as clever as
she has become since. She was somewhat of a spoilt child, but her
husband was a very brilliant talker indeed, though, unlike many
brilliant talkers, there was not an ounce of spite in his cleverest
remarks. The electors might have done worse than send him to Paris the
first time he invited their suffrages in '46, under the auspices of
Guizot. Nevertheless, he was beaten by a goodly majority, and he had to
wait until after the Revolution of February, when he was returned on the
Republican list."
[Footnote 58: The term for the French bench, consisting of
judges; the _parquet_, _i. e._ those to whom the public
prosecution is confided,
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