M. de Senneville， decorated with a cordon rouge (red ribbon)， pays a visit on his return from Algiers： the decoration becomes a blue one， and the wearer is the Comte d'Artois[10] in person. There is certainly a plot brewing， and at five o'clock in the morning eighteen communes (two thousand armed men) arrive before the doors of the two houses； shouts and threats of death last for eight hours；a gun fired a few paces off at the suspects misfires； a peasant who is aiming at them says to his neighbor， "Give me a decent gun and Iwill plant both my balls in their bodies！" Finally， M. de Gilliers， who was absent， attending a baptism， returns with the Royal Chasseurs of Dauphiny and the National Guard of Romans， and with their assistance delivers his family. - It is only in the towns， that is， in a few towns， and for a very short time， that an inoffensive noble who is attacked obtains any aid； the phantoms which people create for themselves there are less gross； a certain degree of enlightenment， and a remnant of common sense， prevent the hatching of too absurd stories. - But in the dark recesses of rustic brains nothing can arrest the monomania of suspicion.
Fancies multiply there like weeds in a dark hole： they take root and vegetate until they become belief， conviction， and certainty； they produce the fruit of hostility and hatred， homicidal and incendiary ideas. With eyes constantly fixed on the chateau， the village regards it as a Bastille which must be captured， and， instead of saluting the lord of the manor， it thinks only of firing at him.
Let us take up one of these local histories in detail.[11] In the month of July， 1789， during the jacquerie in Ma？onnais， the parish of Villiers appealed for assistance to its lord， M. de Bussy， a former colonel of dragoons. He had returned home， treated the people of his village to a dinner， and attempted to form them into a body of guards to protect themselves against incendiaries and brigands； along with the well-disposed men of the place "he patrolled every evening to restore tranquillity to the parish." On a rumor spreading that "the wells were poisoned，" he placed sentinels alongside of all the wells except his own， "to prove that he was acting for the parish and not for himself." In short， he did all he could to conciliate the villagers， and to interest them in the common safety. - But， by virtue of being a noble and an officer he is distrusted， and it is Perron， the syndic of the commune， to whom the commune now listens. Perron announces that the King "having abjured his sworn word，" no more confidence is to be placed in him， and， consequently， neither in his officers nor in the gentry. On M.
de Bussy proposing to the National Guards that they should go to the assistance of the chateau of Thil， which is in flames， Perron prevents them， declaring that "these fires are kindled by the nobles and the clergy." M. de Bussy insists， and entreats them to go， offering to abandon "his terrier，" that is to say all his seignorial dues， if they will only accompany him and arrest this destruction.
They refuse to do so. He perseveres， and， on being informed that the chateau of Juillenas is in peril， he collects， after great efforts， a body of one hundred and fifty men of his parish， and， marching with them， arrives in time to save the chateau， which a mob was about to set on fire. But the popular excitement， which he had just succeeded in calming at Juillenas， has gained the upper hand amongst his own troop： the brigands have seduced his men， "which obliges him to lead them back， while， along the road， they seem inclined to fire at him." - Having returned， he is followed with threats even to his own house： a band comes to attack his chateau；finding it on the defensive， they insist on being led to that of Courcelles. - ？In the midst of all this violence M. de Bussy， with about fifteen friends and tenants， succeeds in protecting himself and， by dint of patience， energy， and cool blood， without killing or wounding a single man， ends in bringing back security throughout the whole canton. The jacquerie subsides， and it seems as if the newly restored order would be maintained. He sends for Madame de Bussy to return， and some months pass away. - The popular imagination， however， is poisoned， and whatever a gentleman may do， he is no longer tolerated on his estate. A few leagues from there， on April 29， 1790， M. de Bois-d'Aisy， deputy to the National Assembly， had returned to his parish to vote at the new elections.[12] "Scarcely has he arrived，" when the commune of Bois-d'Aisy gives him notice through its mayor "that it will not regard him as eligible." He attends the electoral meeting which is held in the church there， a municipal officer in the pulpit inveighs against nobles and priests， and declares that they must not take part in the elections. All eyes turn upon M. de Boisd'Aisy， who is the only noble present.
Nevertheless， he takes the civic oath， which nearly costs him dear， for murmurs arise around him， and the peasants say that he ought to have been hanged like the lord of Sainte-Colombe， to prevent his taking the oath. In fact， the evening before， the latter， M. de Vitteaux， an old man of seventy-four years of age， was expelled from the primary assembly， then torn out of the house in which he had sought refuge， half killed with blows， and dragged through the streets to the open square； his mouth was stuffed with manure， a stick was thrust into his ears， and "he expired after a martyrdom of three hours." The same day， in the church of the Capuchins， at Sémur， the rural parishes which met together excluded their priests and gentry in the same fashion. M. de Damas and M. de Sainte-Maure were beaten with clubs and stones； the curé of Massigny died after six stabs with a knife， and M. de Virieu saved himself as he best could. - With such examples before them it is probable that many of the nobles will no longer exercise their right of suffrage. M.
