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In the Councils an extreme party led by Boissy d'Anglas, Pichegru and Camille Jordan, embarked on a policy of turning out the Directors and repealing all the revolutionary legislation, especially that directed against the émigrés and the Church. They formed the Club de Clichy.
Simp, falling tearfully upon his bed; "I have expected the summons all day." "The next man may come upon that errand," answered the ringing voice of Andy Plade. "Freckle sleeps in Clichy to-night; Risque cannot be found; the rest are as badly off; I have news for you." "I am the man to be mocked," pleaded Simp; "but you must laugh at your own joke; I am too wretched to help you."
But the truth is, Augereau was sent expressly to second the revolution which was preparing against the Clichy party and the minority of the Directory. Bonaparte made choice of Augereau because he knew his staunch republican principles, his boldness, and his deficiency in political talent.
As the servant preceded us along the corridor, I could not help feeling the contrast of this gloomy mansion, where every footstep had its own sad echo, with the gorgeous splendor of the Hôtel Clichy. Here, all was dark, cold, and dreary; there, everything was lightsome, cheerful, and elegant. What an emblem, to my thinking, were they both of the dynasties they represented!
Once sent to Clichy or forced to leave the country by notes no longer renewable, he would sink into the gulf where so many political carcasses may be seen, carcasses of men who find no consolation in one another's company. Even this very evening he was in dread of a collapse of that threatening arch which debt erects over the head of many a Parisian.
These melancholy visits of worn-out acquaintances, these sapless twigs of humanity, are the envy of such houses as the Hôtel Clichy; and to be admitted to these gloomy, moth-eaten salons, is a greater honor than an invitation to the Tuileries. So long as this exists, depend upon it, there is rottenness in the core of society. But come, let us take our leave; I see you are well wearied of all this.
"You will bring up my dinner at once, and then carry to my new studio, 15 Boulevard de Clichy, thirty bottles of beer, and the ham I ordered this morning. We are going to have a housewarming." M. Saval immediately ordered dinner. Then, he took off his overcoat, so that his dress suit and his white tie could be seen. His neighbor did not seem to notice him.
"Keep these pieces," said he with a sort of cheerfulness. "Why should you send me to Clichy? Am I not a prisoner here out of gratitude?"
But it was the American travelling in Europe in the days when we first found Henry James's heroine on the shores of Lake Geneva and later in Rome, when transatlantic voyagers were not so commonplace as they became later, whose pangs of homesickness in his pension in the Rue de Clichy in Paris, or his hotel in Sorrento, first invested Fifth Avenue with a spirit.
"I hope you didn't push him into the Seine." "It was damn impolite.... But hell, it was damn impolite of him not to drink.... No use wasting time with a man who don't drink. I took him into a cafe and asked him to wait while I telephoned. I guess he's still waiting. One of the whoreiest cafes on the whole Boulevard Clichy."
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