CHAPTER XI 1851 IN the autumn of 1850 we drove to Bayonne, where my father proposed to winter. The condition of affairs in France was by no means settled. My mother wrote : " I do not think people seem satisfied with the state of France itself; many, especially the French themselves, seem to expect that some violent convulsion is at hand, and that things are foreboding another change, which change they greatly dread. I cannot think that the Henri V party is justified in so decidedly giving their weight to the Rouge Socialist scale for their own selfish purposes, in the hope that in the scramble their influence may predominate in his favour. The Socialist faction is such a dangerous and powerful one that they, like the Girondists in the first Revolution, will most probably regret too late the mistake in giving the impetus to a rolling mass that will crush everything like order, and themselves into the bargain." There was something pathetic in our departure from Chateau d'Areit. My dear mother had visited some of the sick peasantesses, and had given them what help she could, and had clothed certain of the most ragged children with our cast-off garments. The curd had thanked her with quivering lips, and had expressed his wish that we were to be permanent residents, in place of visitors for a few months. When we were ready to start, and the carriage and horses were at the door, and we descended from the house, we discovered that nearly the whole village had assembled to see us off, and that men and women were kissing Pengelly, who submitted most unwillingly, especially to the embraces of the males. His face vas blazing red like a poppy, and he looked with imploring eyes 189
