Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1908-10-28
WHERE FLAusERr WROTE.
His House at croisset-Devotion to
His Mother and Niece.

having behind them the beautiful hills
that on this bank border the river for
many miles, says a correspondent of
the New Orleans Times Democrat.
1t was not poet, hst a novelist
who used to get inspiration from the
charming outlook, for Just here in
this small village the great FIaubert
made his home. The dwelling hoG 3e
has been pulled down. and its site is
now occupied by paper factory, but
the places most eloquent Of him--the
pretty pavilion where he worked, the
sweet, formal little garden-have
been recently purchased by his admir-
ers and turned into memorial mu-
| scum. This business was Zen
train when I was here two years
ago. and now it has been successfully
accomplished. In addition, NJ. Paul
M0nh.er has built at his own expense
a picturesque cottage for the con-
cierge In one corner of the garden, so
that everything is now complete and
the place is kept in as perfect apple.
pie order as Flaubert himself could
have desired
When We land at Croisset flor of
course We come by boat) we do not
have to wait until we get to the payil
| lion to be reminded of the famous
novelist. A little restaurant on the
quay, bearing the name Hotel Co.
LANCE has also in huge letters across
It's front the words "Ex-Cuisinier de
u. Gustave F1aubert," for the proprie.
tor was once in Flaubert's service,
and he loves to talk to his patrons Of
the wonderful days of long ago and
of the writer who, in his eyes at least
is the chief glory of his country. The
ICld concierge is hardly less enthusias-
tic and points out the various objects
of interest with a reverential air
which proclaims that he, too, though
in humble capacity, belongs to the
great army of hero worshipers
within the pavilion are two fine
busts of Flaubert and of his pupil,
Guy de Maupassant; there are FIau.
bert's huge leather easy chair, hts
pens, different editions OF his books,
letters from notable people, pictures
and the table on which he wrote,
not only his novels but his own de-
lightful letters to Louise Colet,
Georges Sand and other friends.
There is also visitors book full of
names untidily scrubbed IA pcrcil. not
neat and orderly as or is accustomed
to see such books in England. To my
thinking the garden is more interest
ing than the workshop. It is like
some pretty scene from a play, with
its formal terrace, its stone benches,
its fine trees, its wealth of flowers
never saw more gorge us masses OF
color than were formed by groups OF
irises and pink peoniei growing in
close proximity The shady avenue
is all of linden trees, and nailed to
several OF the trunks is a printed sliD
of paper with these words: "AlIee de
Tilleuls-sons laquelle Flaubert soume
TAFT son style I epreuve de la recita-
ton" Is not that delightful French
touch?
Flaubert's life, his devotion to duty,
were greater than his much-vaunted
literary style. His unselfshness was
beyond all praise, especially when we
remember that his life was one long
struggle against disease and melaa-
choly. He was a remarkably hand
some and attractive man, yet his
youth was joyless and his manhood
was entirely devoted to his mothers
will. One of his biographers says:
His mother loved him with the de-
votion that not only binds but brushes.
1t was on her account that he became
a stay-at home. In order to please
her he ives very near throwing up mis-
eastern journey at the last moment
His briefest absence filed her with
alarm. OF his art she understood
nothing; at first jealous of it, she be,
came reconciled to a pursuit that kept
him at home. The last years of her
life were somber for both. She could
think and talk of nothing else but her
own health, and Flauberts principal
occupation was to make her take
turns in the little garden at Croisset.
Such utter devotion, such complete
|selfsacrifice to a mother could hardly
be found in any but a Frenchman.
French parents do not seem to recog
nize. as English and American par
ents do. the individual rights of the
child; it seems natural to them that
their children, no LA, ter how old they
are, should be subo d nate to their
own wishes.
fortnight af'~~ his mothers death
he wrote to Geo e Sand Il have
discovered with the last fortnight
that that poor good woman, my
mother, was the being I loved best in
the world. 1t is as II had lost
part of myself The other being
whom Flaubert '1oved best in the
world" was his niece. Caroline Lou
lou, Bib Bichon, all sorts Of pet
names he had for her. So much was
she part of himself the when her hus-
band was on the vels~ Of ruin Flan-
bert few to the rescue and sacrificed
his entire fortune to avert the catas-
trophe. And this was when he was
in bad health and getting old. In his
Correspondence" there are many let.