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118 pages 3 hours read

Charles Dickens

A Tale of Two Cities

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 1859

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Book 2, Chapters 21-24Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Book 2: “The Golden Thread”

Book 2, Chapter 21 Summary: “Echoing Footsteps”

Several years pass, and Lucie measures the changes in her life in the echoing footsteps around her house. She imagines, for instance, she can now hear the footsteps of her young daughter Lucie, as well as “the rustling of an Angel’s wings” (219)—a son that died young. Meanwhile, Lucie is “ever busily winding the golden thread that [binds] them all together, weaving the service of her happy influence through the tissue of all their lives” (218). Her father, for instance, remarks that she has actually become more attentive to him since marrying, and Darnay is amazed by his wife’s ability to be “everything to all of [them]” (221).

Carton pays rare visits to the Darnays, where he quickly becomes a favorite of little Lucie’s. Lorry is still friends with the family as well and visits them one evening when the Darnays’ daughter is roughly six. Having just come from Tellson’s, Lorry complains that many of their French customers are anxious to have their property transferred to England; although he says that this is “unreasonable” (221), he is flustered and remarks that the footsteps that night “are very numerous and very loud” (222).

Meanwhile, in Paris, the footsteps are “headlong, mad, and dangerous” (222). A massive, armed crowd has gathered around the Defarges’ wine-shop, and Defarge is issuing orders. Together with his wife, who is armed herself, Defarge leads the charge to the Bastille. The assault on the prison goes on for hours, with both women and men taking part: “Flashing weapons, blazing torches, smoking wagon-loads of wet straw, hard work at neighbouring barricades in all directions, shrieks, volleys, execrations, bravery without stint, boom smash and rattle, and the furious sounding of the living sea [of people]” (224). At last, those inside the Bastille surrender, and the crowd surges in to free the prisoners.

During this commotion, Defarge pulls a prison guard aside and asks him to take him to Manette’s old cell. Once there, Defarge discovers that Manette had scratched his initials and a calendar on the wall; he then searches the rest of the cell, tearing apart the bed and table and groping around in the chimney.

Back outside, Defarge finds that the governor of the Bastille has been captured. The crowd kills him, Madame Defarge cuts off his head, and the rebels hoist his body up where a lamp once hung. Meanwhile, the heads of the prison guards are placed on pikes, and the former prisoners are “carried over head; all scared, all lost, all wondering and amazed, as if the Last Day were come, and those who rejoiced around them were lost spirits” (229). 

Book 2, Chapter 22 Summary: “The Sea Still Rises”

A week after the storming of the Bastille, Madame Defarge is sitting in the wine-shop “contemplating” (230) the change that has taken place in Saint Antoine:

There were several knots of loungers, squalid and miserable, but now with a manifest sense of power enthroned on their distress […] Every lean bare arm, that had been without work before, had this work always read for it now, that it could strike. The fingers of the knitting women were vicious, with the experience that they could tear (230-31).

Defarge enters the shop and announces that a man named Foulon, who once said that the lower classes could eat grass, has been captured after trying to fake his own death. Defarge and Madame Defarge rally the neighborhood and set off for the place where Foulon is being held prisoner; the women in particular, led by Madame Defarge and her friend “the Vengeance” are eager to punish Foulon for the suffering he has caused their families.

The crowd arrives at the Hôtel de Ville, cheering at the sight of Foulon tied up. After taunting him, they stuff his mouth full of grass and hang him, afterwards placing his head on a pike. Not long afterwards, the crowd manages to seize and execute Foulon’s son-in-law, who was being escorted to Paris under guard. Full of optimism, the people then return to their “scanty and insufficient suppers” together: “Fathers and mothers who had had their full share in the worst of the day, played gently with their meagre children; and lovers, with such a world around them and before them, loved and hoped” (235). Madame Defarge tells her husband that the revolution has nearly arrived. 

Book 2, Chapter 23 Summary: “Fire Rises”

The lands near the Marquis’s chateau are increasingly depleted, and many of the guards and soldiers posted at the local prison are gone. In fact, the French aristocracy has begun to flee the country:

The last drop of blood having been extracted from the flints, and the last screw of the rack having been turned so often that its purchase crumbled, and it now turned and turned with nothing to bite, Monseigneur began to run away from a phenomenon so low and unaccountable (236).

However, the mender of roads is still at work in the area and is approached one day by a “shaggy-haired man, of almost barbarian aspect, tall, in wooden shoes that [are] clumsy […] steeped in the mud and dust of many highways” (237). They greet one another as “Jacques” and discuss an unspecified event that will take place that night; the mender provides the traveler with directions and agrees to wake him from his nap at sunset.

That evening, the mender returns home to the village, where a crowd has gathered “looking expectantly at the sky in one direction only” (239). As the night deepens, lights appear in the chateau: a group of men has set the building on fire. A messenger from the chateau goes to fetch help at the prison, but the soldiers refuse to help. Meanwhile, the villager goes to Gabelle’s house, pounding on the door and placing “an ill-omened lamp […] before his posting-house gate” (242) in preparation for stringing Gabelle himself up. Gabelle manages to survive the night, but similar scenes are playing out across the rest of France, sometimes ending in victory for the rebels and sometimes in victory for the government’s forces: “But the fierce figures were steadily wending East, West, North, and South, be that as it would; and whosever hung, fire burned” (242). 

Book 2, Chapter 24 Summary: “Drawn to the Loadstone Rock”

Three years pass, and England watches anxiously as the revolution in France grows: by the summer of 1792, Louis XVI has been deposed, and many aristocrats have fled. Once in England, they often gather at Tellson’s, since the bank has a French branch.

In mid-August, Darnay visits Tellson’s and learns that Lorry is traveling to Paris that night to safeguard the bank’s business there. Lorry, however, feels certain that his age and nationality will protect him, and in any case plans to take Jerry Cruncher with him as a bodyguard. As Darnay and Lorry talk, the French aristocrats around them discuss “extravagant plots […] for the restoration of a state of things that had utterly exhausted itself” (247).

A message addressed to “Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evrémonde” (247) interrupts these conversations; the name is Darnay’s, but he hasn’t told it to anyone but Doctor Manette. The gathered nobles explain to Lorry that the prior Marquis’s nephew abandoned his title and inheritance out of sympathy with the “new doctrines” (248). Privately frustrated with the nobles’ disdainful tone, Darnay says he knows the addressee and offers to deliver the message. Once out of sight, he opens it: it is from Gabelle, who has been arrested for acting on behalf of an “emigrant” (250)—that is, Darnay, who had instructed him to stop collecting taxes and rent from the villagers. He therefore asks Darnay to come to France and speak on his behalf.

Darnay is immediately overwhelmed by guilt; he feels responsible for Gabelle, and fears he was so anxious to cut ties with his family that he didn’t arrange matters in France properly. He also judges himself for having watched the Revolution unfold in France without intervening. Sure that his past actions on behalf of the peasantry will protect him, Darnay decides he must return to France: “The Loadstone Rock was drawing him, and he must sail on, until he struck. He knew of no rock; he saw hardly any danger” (252).

Darnay decides not to anyone of his decision until he has left. Instead, he writes letters to Lucie and Doctor Manette, explaining why he has left and asking Manette to take care of the family in his absence. After a long day during which he struggles not to confide in his wife, Darnay leaves these letters to a porter for safekeeping and rides to Dover.

Book 2, Chapters 21-24 Analysis

As events in France reach a crisis point, Dickens leans even more into the idea that they are inevitable. His descriptions of the storming of the Bastille, for instance, draw heavily on imagery of tides and currents: “So resistless was the force of the ocean bearing [Defarge] on, that even to draw his breath or turn his head was as impracticable as if he had been struggling in the surf of the South Sea, until he was landed in the outer court-yard of the Bastille” (224-225). The comparison of the rebel crowds to an ocean implies that the people’s actions are not only unstoppable but also in some sense natural—that is, the logical consequence of the system they’re reacting to. The idea that the Revolution is fated recurs in this section of the novel; the motif of echoing footsteps, for example, implies the approach of an unavoidable future, and Darnay is “drawn” back to France as if against his own will.

One consequence of this view of the Revolution is that it leaves little room for individual guilt or responsibility; the rebels aren’t so much choosing their actions as they are being swept along by powerful historical forces. This idea is at the heart of Dickens’s depiction of Foulon’s death; although he describes the killing itself as grotesque and cruel, he acknowledges that the people who committed it are neither by showing them interacting tenderly with their families in the hours afterwards. The implication is that they have simply been caught up in the violence of the mob without being particularly violent themselves.

At the same time, however, the novel clearly presents this violence as morally wrong, which is where figures like Madame Defarge come in. Unlike the frenzied crowds, Madame Defarge is cool and calculating; for instance, the narrator describes her at one point “let[ting] [Foulon] go—as a cat might have done to a mouse—and silently and composedly look[ing] at him […] while he besought her” (234). She also has a larger-than-life influence on events around her; in fact, her knitting making her almost synonymous with destiny itself. As a result, she provides Dickens with a villain who bears clear and direct responsibility for the Revolution’s excesses, while allowing him to portray the bulk of the peasantry sympathetically.

Meanwhile, the novel also provides a counterweight to Madame Defarge and the forces she embodies: Lucie’s symbolic “winding” of a “golden thread” contrasts with Madame Defarge’s knitting. In large part, this winding is a metaphor for domesticity, since the narrator describes it as binding the members of Lucie’s family to her and to one another. The suggestion, then, is that the blissful family life Lucie cultivates is a remedy to the violence and chaos of the Revolution. This perhaps reflects the common Victorian belief that women, by exerting moral influence in the domestic sphere, could solve many societal problems and make violent resistance unnecessary; the wife of a factory owner, for instance, could prevail on her husband to treat his workers more fairly. Even in A Tale of Two Cities, however, there are limits to the good that domesticity can do. In fact, it is precisely because the French women are so selflessly devoted to their families that they become violent; even Madame Defarge is ultimately motivated by love for her dead relatives, and therefore desire to avenge them.

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