M. de Rémusat was one of the scared.
He exclaimed, in despairing tones, "Where are you going? Where are you urging us? It must on no account lead us to revolution—that is not what we desire: legal resistance, well and good—but nothing beyond."
Of course, this meeting did not decide on a course of action any more than the others, unless it drove M. de Rémusat to his bed with the fever which seized him afterwards.
Carrel did not attend any of these three meetings. He was in favour of lawful resistance stretched to its widest limits, but of lawful resistance only. He did not believe in any good arising out of any conflict between citizens and soldiers: he understood the meaning of pretorian revolutions and demanded of those who talked of resorting to arms—
"Have you any regiment you can safely count on?"
No one had regiments ready, seeing that no plot had been prepared. But there was, none the less, a great and formidable general conspiracy afoot, namely public opinion, which accused the Bourbons of being responsible for the defeat of 1815 and wanted to avenge Waterloo in the streets of Paris.
This conspiracy was visible in the eyes, gestures, words and even in the very silence of the people whom one passed, the groups one met, the solitary individuals who stopped, hesitating whether to go to the right or left, as though saying to themselves, "Where is anything going on? Where are they doing anything? I must go and do just what the rest are doing."
Doctor Thibaut—The Government of Gérard and Mortemart—Étienne Arago and Mazue, the Superintendent of Police—The café Gobillard—Fire at the guard-house in the place de la Bourse—The first barricades—The night
Doctor Thibaut—The Government of Gérard and Mortemart—Étienne Arago and Mazue, the Superintendent of Police—The café Gobillard—Fire at the guard-house in the place de la Bourse—The first barricades—The night
We went back to the boulevards again from the office of theNational.At the top of the rue Montmartre we heard what sounded like firing, in the direction of the Palais-Royal. It was nearly seven o'clock in the evening.
"Hah! What is that?" I asked Carrel.
"By Jove!" he answered, "it was a volley being fired."
"Well, will you come along and see?"
"Good gracious no!" he replied. "I shall turn in home."
"I mean to go," I said.
"Go, then; but don't be fool enough to get drawn into things!"
"No fear. Adieu!"
"Adieu!"
Carrel walked away with his calm and measured step, along the faubourg Montmartre, whilst I dashed off at a run for the place de la Bourse. I had not gone fifty yards before I met Dr. Thibaut. He looked very important.
"Ah! it is you, dear friend?" I said. "What is the news?"
Thibaut, who had adopted great gravity of expression, claiming that no doctor could make his way in the world without it, was, on this occasion, more than grave: he was gloomy.
"Bad news!" he replied; "things are getting horribly complicated."
"But are they fighting?" I said,
"Yes; one man has been killed in the rue du Lycée and three more in the rue Saint-Honoré.... The Lancers charged in the rue de Richelieu and upon the place du Palais-Royal.... A barricade was being run up in the rue de Richelieu, but it was taken before it was finished."
"Where are you bound for?"
"You will hear that to-morrow, if I am successful," he said.
"Upon my word, my dear fellow, you assume the airs of a diplomatist."
"Who knows?—I may be going to form a new Government!"
"In your calling as a doctor, my dear friend, I would invite you to give your whole attention to the old Ministry, for it seems to me deuced ill!"
Two young people passed us by rapidly at this moment.
"A tricoloured flag?" said one. "Surely it is not possible!"
"I tell you I saw it myself," the other replied.
"Where?"
"On the quai de l'École."
"When?"
"Half an hour ago."
"What did they do to the man who was bearing it?"
"Nothing ... they just let him pass."
"Let us go there, then."
"All right."
And they ran off down the rue Notre-Dame-des-Victoires.
"You see, my dear fellow," I said to Thibaut, "things are getting warm! Go off to your Ministry, my friend."
"I am going."
He went away in the direction of the boulevard des Capucines.
Thibaut had not deceived me. He was actually engaged in forming a Ministry; only, his Ministry was not destined to die of longevity. It was the Ministry of Gérard and Mortemart, which had its counterpart in the Thiers and Odilon Barrot Ministry of the Revolution of 1848. But, it will be urged, howcould Dr. Thibaut form a Ministry? As for that—well, I will tell you.
It will be remembered that, in 1827 or 1828, Madame de Celles, daughter of General Gérard, who was suffering from a chest complaint, had asked Madame de Leuven to tell her of a young medical man who could accompany her to Italy, and that Thibaut's name had been given her. He had made the journey with the beautiful invalid, and the combined results of travel and doctor worked wonders in her health. On their return, the general was so grateful for the care Thibaut had bestowed upon his daughter that he admitted him into personal intimacy in his household. Thibaut, when I met him, was on his way to call upon M. le Baron de Vitrolles, on behalf of General Gérard, to try and persuade him to urge conciliatory measures upon M. de Polignac and, if that failed, upon the king himself. Serious-minded people were evidently beginning to realise the gravity of the situation. This was the information which Thibaut could not tell me when we met, but which he divulged to me later.
Eight o'clock chimed out from the Bourse clock; I wanted to get back to my faubourg Saint Germain; but, as I entered one end of the rue Vivienne, I saw bayonets at the other. I could have gone by the rue des Filles-Saint-Thomas, but curiosity kept me back. I beat a retreat as far as the café of the théâtre des Nouveautés. As far as I can recollect, it was kept by a man named Gobillard, an excellent fellow, a favourite with us all. The troop advanced with regular step, taking up the whole width of the street, pushing men, women and children before them. The people, driven by the soldiers, gave way and walked backwards, shouting—
"Vive la ligne!"
Women waved their handkerchiefs from the open windows, crying—
"Do not fire on the people!"
There was a certain type among the men whom the soldiers were driving aside which is only to be seen at special hoursof the day—the kind of men who start riots and revolutions, men whom one might style the pioneers of disorder. When the troops reached the place de la Bourse they deployed, but, as they could not cover the whole width of the square, a portion of those who were being pushed along by the soldiers overflowed on both sides and swept back after them. Now, there was near the Bourse a rickety old wooden shanty which was used as a guard-house. The regiment left about a dozen soldiers there as in a block-house and disappeared down the rue Neuve-Vivienne in the direction of the Bastille. The regiment was scarcely out of sight when some boys from the crowd came up to the soldiers who were left in the guard-house, shouting—
"Vive la Charte!"
Whilst these lads did no more than shout, the soldiers kept their patience, but stones soon followed the shoutings. A soldier, hit by a stone, fired, and a woman fell—a woman of about thirty. Cries of "Murder!" went up and, in a second, the square was emptied, lights were extinguished and shops closed. The théâtre des Nouveautés alone remained lighted and open,—they were playingla Chatte blanche,—and those inside the house had no idea what was going on outside. A small troop of about twelve men appeared, at that moment, from the rue des Filles-Saint-Thomas. It was headed by Étienne Arago and was shouting—
"Stop the play! Close the theatres! They are killing people in the streets of Paris!..."
It stumbled against the body of the woman who had been killed.
"Carry this corpse to the steps of the peristyle, so that everybody can see it," said Étienne; "I am going to have the theatre emptied."
And, as a matter of fact, the place was emptied an instant later, the stream of spectators, on coming out, spreading apart as a torrent does before a rock, so as to avoid trampling upon the body. I ran to Arago.
"What are they doing," I asked. "What has been decided?"
"Nothing yet.... Barricades are being erected ... and women killed and theatres closed, as you see."
"Where shall I find you again?"
"To-morrow morning at my house, No. 10 rue de Grammont."
Then, turning to the men who were with him—
"To the Variétés, my friends!" he said; "to close the theatres is to hoist the black flag over Paris!"
And the little crowd disappeared with him down the rue de Montmorency. It had passed before the sentinel and the barracks without producing any sign. And this was how the movement had begun and from whence the firing had come that Carrel and I had heard.
Étienne Arago (I hope I may be pardoned for always quoting the same name, but I will engage to prove, beyond exception, that Étienne Arago was the mainspring of the insurrectional movement), Étienne Arago, I say, had just been dining with Desvergers and Varin and had returned with them to the Vaudeville theatre, which was then in the rue de Chartres, when a mob barred their way in the rue Saint-Honoré, in front of the Delorme passage. They were saying that a man had been killed in the rue du Lycée. A cart, loaded with rubble, was waiting to pass, as soon as the mob had dispersed; four or five carriages, stopped by the same obstruction, were waiting too, in file.
"Excuse me, my friend," Étienne said to the driver, unharnessing the horse from the shafts; "we require your cart."
"What for?"
"To make a barricade with, to be sure!"
"Yes, yes, barricades—let us have barricades!" exclaimed several voices.
And, in the twinkling of an eye, the horses were detached, the cart thrown on its side and the contents piled up across the street.
"Good!" said Arago. "Now you won't need me any more; I am wanted elsewhere."
And, leaving the barricade to be guarded by those who hadhelped in its construction, he crossed the Delorme passage, went along the rue de Rivoli and reached the Vaudeville. People were just going in.
"There shall be no play while fighting is going on!" he said; "give the people back their money!"
Then, to those who persisted in going in—
"Pardon, messieurs," he said—"there shall be no laughing at the Vaudeville whilst Paris is in tears."
And he began trying to shut the gate.
"Monsieur," a voice asked, "why are you closing the Vaudeville?"
"Why?... Because I am the manager of the theatre and choose to close it."
"Yes, but the Government does not choose to do so: in the name of the Government I order you to leave it open!"
"Who are you?"
"Heavens! you know me well enough."
"Possibly, but I want those who are listening and taking part in this debate to know who you are too."
"I am M. Mazue, Superintendent of Police."
"Well, then, Monsieur Mazue, Police Superintendent, look out for yourself!" replied Arago, pushing against the grating; "those who do not go will soon be crushed."
"Monsieur Arago, to-morrow you will be no longer manager of the Vaudeville!"
"Monsieur Mazue, to-morrow you will no longer be the Superintendent of Police."
"We shall see about that, Monsieur Arago!"
"I hope so, Monsieur Mazue!"
With the help of two scene-shifters, Étienne closed the grille, in spite of the efforts of the police officers; then, leaving by the stage door, he began the work of closing the other theatres—an act that had an immense influence upon that evening's proceedings and upon those of the next day.
All these details were related to us behind the carefully closed doors of the café Gobillard. We were there to the number of three or four and, as we had been rushing about thewhole day, we were dying with hunger. We ordered supper. The topic of our conversation can easily be guessed. Some said that the agitation of the hour was of not more significance than that of 1827, and that the riot had not strength to rise to the proportions of a revolution, but would fail in like manner. Others, and I among them, believed, on the contrary, that we were but at the prologue of the comedy and that the morrow would show a different state of things altogether. We were in the full flow of this discussion when the sound of firing startled us and made us shudder. It was fired in the square. Almost immediately there was a cry of "To arms!" followed by a noise like that of a hand-to-hand combat.
"You see," I said, "the drama begins!"
It was now twenty minutes to ten by the café clock. We ran upstairs to the first floor to look out of the windows. The guard-house had been surprised, surrounded and attacked by a score of men. A struggle was proceeding in the darkness, of which we could not make out any details—nothing beyond a confused mass. The soldiers were defeated and disarmed. Their guns, cartridge-pouches and swords had been taken from them and they were sent away by the rue Joquelet; then some fifteen were detached from the main body and picked up the corpse of the woman, which still lay on the theatre steps, placed it on a litter and went away down the rue des Filles-Saint-Thomas crying, "Vengeance!" Three or four who were provided with a torch remained behind the rest and, with this torch, lighted a bonfire of straw in the middle of the guard-house; then they kicked down and broke up the planks it was made of and let them fall into the bonfire. Of course, the planks ignited very rapidly, and instantly the barrack was one vast blazing mass; the three or four laggards left it to its fate and rejoined their companions. The fire threw a lurid illumination over the square and burned half the night without anyone attempting to extinguish it. We went down and finished our supper, our thoughts very full of what we had just witnessed. We separated towards midnight, and I took the rue Vivienne; the Perron passage being closed,I went along the rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs and the rue de Richelieu. In the rue de l'Échelle, moving about through the darkness, were shadows which, when I approached, cried, "Qui vive?" I replied, "A friend!" and walked straight on. It was a barricade that was being silently raised, as though built by some spirits of the night. I shook hands with several of these nocturnal workmen and gained the Carrousel. Behind the château gates I could see two or three hundred men camped in the court of the Tuileries. I thought it must have been almost the same as this on the night of the 9th to 10th of August 1790. I tried to peep through the gates, but a sentinel cried "Keep off!" and I went on my way. On the quays everything was resuming its normal appearance. I reached the rue de l'Université without having met a single person either upon the Pont Royal or in the rue du Bac. As soon as I reached my lodgings, I opened my window and listened: Paris seemed silent and deserted; but this tranquillity was but superficial, one felt that the solitude was peopled and the silence alive!
The morning of the 27th—Joubert—Charles Teste—La Petite-Jacobinière—Chemist Robinet—The arms used inSergent Mathieu—Pillage of an armourer's stores—The three Royal Guards—A tall and fair young man—Oudard's fears
The morning of the 27th—Joubert—Charles Teste—La Petite-Jacobinière—Chemist Robinet—The arms used inSergent Mathieu—Pillage of an armourer's stores—The three Royal Guards—A tall and fair young man—Oudard's fears
I was awakened, as on the 26th, by Achille Comte.
"Well?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.
"Oh, it is going ahead!" he said. "The Quartier des Écoles is in a state of open insurrection, but the students are furious."
"Against whom?"
"Against the principal leaders—Laffitte, Casimir Périer and La Fayette.... They called upon these persons yesterday: one told them to keep quiet, whilst others did not even see them.... But Barthélemy and Méry will give you full details; they were there, with their pockets full of gunpowder which they had bought of a grocer."
I dressed, took a carriage to go and call on my mother and found her as calm as if nothing extraordinary was happening in Paris. I had given orders that she should be kept in ignorance, and they had been carefully executed. When I left my mother, I drove to Godefroy Cavaignac, who lived in the rue de Sèvres. He had gone out, but I was told I should find him either at Joubert's the bookseller's, in the passage Dauphine, or at Charles Teste's, atla Petite-Jacobinière, in the place de la Bourse.
Joubert, who was afterwards aide-de-camp to La Fayette, I believe lieutenant-colonel, was a former Carbonaro and a friend of Carrel; condemned to death as the latter was, after the affair of Béfort, he had escaped from the prisons of Perpignanby the help of a nun and two of his friends, Fabre and Corbière.
Charles Teste, whom we all knew well, had built a bookshop in the place de la Bourse, which was dubbed with the expressive name ofPetite-Jacobinière, because of the opinions of those who frequented it. Charles Teste was one of the worthiest and noblest characters it was possible to meet with. Being poor, he had quarrelled with his richer brothers. During the reign of Louis-Philippe he would not take up any profession, and goodness knows how he managed to live! When his brother was condemned by the Court of Peers, he placed himself entirely at his disposition, and became his support and comfort and strength. Then, after the Revolution of 1848, all his old friends came in to power, but he declined the posts that were offered to him, and the only favour he asked was that his brother might be removed from prison to a sanatorium. Charles Teste died, I think, eighteen months or two years ago; when he drew his last breath France lost one of her greatest citizens.
I drove first to the passage Dauphine, but Cavaignac had been there and had gone out with Bastide, and it was thought that both had gone tola Petite-Jacobinière.So I dismissed my cab, as I had a call to make at No. 7 rue de l'Université. Here I had drawn no preventive cordon, as in the case of my mother, and everything was known. I promised to regard things from a spectator's standpoint and not to mix myself up in the disturbance: on those conditions, I was allowed leave.
There was a large gathering in the rue de Beaune, at the house of a chemist whose name was Robinet; it was composed of electors and members of the National Guard of the 10th and 11th Arrondissement. All they wanted was to start out on the warpath, but no one possessed arms.
"No arms?" asked Étienne Arago, who entered at this juncture. "If you have no arms, there are plenty to be had at the armourers'!"
It was known at theNationaloffices and atla Petite-Jacobinièrethat a meeting was going on in Robinet's house,and they had sent Arago as a deputy. He had not wasted his time since the morning.
"No arms!" was the general cry at thePetite-Jacobinièreas elsewhere.
Le Sergent Mathieuwas then being played at the Vaudeville theatre, and, consequently, there were about a score or so of rifles, swords and powder-wallets lying among the property stores. Gauja and Étienne ran off to the Vaudeville and put the weapons in wicker baskets which they covered with sheets; they recruited porters and scene-shifters, whilst they followed the procession, clad beneath their long coats in the uniform of officers of the Imperial Guard. The place du Palais-Royal was crowded with troops. A captain stepped out of the ranks and asked the commissionaires: "What are you carrying there?"
"A wedding breakfast from Parly, Captain," Arago replied.
The captain began to laugh: the points of the swords and bayonets were sticking through the basketwork. But he only turned his back on what he saw, and returned to the ranks. Guns, swords and powder-flasks arrived safely atla Petite-Jacobinière, where they were distributed. It was as a consequence of this distribution of arms that Étienne had been sent to Robinet's.
"At his words, "If you have no arms, there are plenty at the armourers'!" everybody went out. Étienne ran to the nearest armourer with Gauja and a man named Lallemand. The armourer lived in the rue de l'Université. When I had pointed out to Étienne his shop, which was on the left side of the rue de Beaune, I turned to the right, to fetch my own gun. Étienne and Lallemand rushed in to the armourer's shop, which was just being closed. Étienne was more lucky with the armourer than he had been the previous day with the Superintendent of Police, and he managed to enter the shop.
"My friend," he said, "do not be alarmed; we have not come to seize your arms, but to purchase them."
He took five or six rifles, and kept one for himself, onefor Gauja and one for Lallemand, giving away the remainder. Then he emptied his pockets, which contained 320 francs and, for the surplus expenditure, he gave a draft on his brother François, of the Observatoire, who paid religiously. Lallemand endorsed the bill. This Lallemand was a well educated and highly cultivated young fellow whom we nicknamedle Docteur, because he always talked so much Latin. I make this explanation in order to avoid confusion with Professor Lallemand. They also took powder and bullets from the same armourer and, as we shall see, it was not long before they were required.
I had gone back home, called my servant Joseph and told him to put me out my complete shooting costume. It was the most suitable and convenient for the form of exercise to which we were going to apply our energies; also, more important still, it was the least conspicuous. I was half-way through my toilet when I heard a great uproar in the rue du Bac and rushed to my window: it came from Étienne Arago and Gauja, who were calling the people to arms. It will be remembered that I lived above the café Desmares; but I forgot to mention that three of my windows looked into the rue du Bac. At that moment, two mounted policemen appeared from the bridge side, at the entrance of the street. Why had they come there? What chance had brought them? We did not know at all. When the crowd which filled the street caught sight of them, loud cries were set up. Thereupon, the policemen seemed to confer together; but, if they hesitated, it was only for a moment: they took their bridles between their teeth, drew their sabres in one hand and held their pistols in the other. The crowd was unarmed and ran into side alleys or open shops or made off down the rue de Lille. Arago and Gauja hid in corners of the street: one of them (I do not know which) cried to the other—
"Come! it is time to begin!"
At the same moment, the two policemen pounced upon them at full gallop. Two reports and flashes of firing came simultaneously from Étienne and Gauja. Both had aimed atthe same man and he fell pierced by both bullets. They rushed to the gendarme stretched on the ground. He was dying. The other policeman turned back. The riderless horse went its own way and disappeared down the rue du Bac. They took his sabre, pistol and powder-box from him and carried him to la Charité. When it was seen that a wounded policeman was being brought into the hospital and they learnt that he had been wounded because he charged at the people, the patients were for finishing him off.
The spirit of revolution had actually penetrated into the hospitals!
Meanwhile, I had put on my jacket, picked up my gun, game-bag and powder-horn, stuffed my pockets with shot and I gone downstairs. Arago and Gauja had both disappeared. I was known in the district and people collected round me.
"What must be done?" they inquired.
"Put up barricades!" I replied.
"Where?"
"One at each end of the rue de l'Université; the other across the rue du Bac."
They brought me a crowbar and I set to the task by beginning to unpave the street. Everybody clamoured for arms.
While this was going on drums were beating in the Tuileries garden. Three soldiers of the Garde Royale appeared at the ii top of the rue du Bac, from the direction of the rue Saint-Thomas-d'Aquin.
"Look here!" I said to those surrounding me, "you are asking for arms? Nothing could be more opportune. See! here are three rifles coming towards you; the only thing you have to do is to take them...."
"Oh, if that is all!" they said.
And they rushed towards the soldiers, who pulled up. I was the only man armed in the crowd.
"My friends," I shouted to the soldiers, "give up your guns and no harm shall be done you!"
They consulted for a moment, then gave up their guns. I kept the soldiers covered with mine, prepared to kill the firstman who should make any hostile demonstration. The people took the guns, but these were actually not loaded: hence, of course, arose the poor devils' readiness to give them up. The people uttered loud shouts of triumph, the battle had begun with a victory: one gendarme killed and three soldiers of the Royal Guard made prisoners! True, we had to let our captives go, because we did not know what to do with them.
We now went on with our barricades. A little group of students arrived from the top of the rue de l'Université; a tall fair young man marched at its head, dressed in an apple-green frock-coat. He was the only one of the party who possessed a service gun. We fraternised and they joined with us to work at the barricades. The close vicinity of the barracks of the Gardes du Corps on the quai d'Orsay made us fearful of an attack. It was quite impossible for the sentinel not to have heard the two reports of a gun, not to have seen the police fly and not to have raised the alarm. I was tired of turning up paving-stones, so gave my pickaxe to the tall fair youth. He began to pick up the intermediate space, but the crowbar was heavy, fell out of his hands and struck me on the leg.
"Ah! monsieur," he cried, "I beg your pardon most profoundly, for I am sure I must have hurt you badly!"
It was true enough, but there are moments when one does not feel pain.
"Never mind," I said to him; "it is on the bone."
He raised his head. "Do you happen to possess a ready wit?"
"By Jove!" I replied, "that's a fine question:' it is my business to have one!"
"Would you favour me with your name?"
"Alexandre Dumas."
"Oh! monsieur!" (He held out his hand to me.) "My name is Bixio ... Profession—medical student. If I get killed, here is my card; have the goodness to see that I am carried home. If you are wounded, I will put my scientific knowledge at your disposal."
"Monsieur, I hope that neither your card nor your knowledge will be required; but, all the same, I will take the one and accept the other. Take care to remember my name, if you please, as I will remember yours!"
We shook hands, and our friendship dated from that meeting.
The barricades finished, we left them to be guarded by those who had helped to make them.
"Now, then," I said to Bixio, "where are you going?"
"I am going in the direction of Gros-Caillou."
"In that case, I will accompany you as far as the Chamber.... I want to go and see what is happening at theNational."
"What!" Bixio exclaimed. "Are you going like that, with your gun, through the streets?"
"Certainly!" I replied; "you seem to me to be going to do just the same."
"Yes, but only on this side of the Seine."
"Bah! I am in a shooting costume and not a fighting one."
"But shooting hasn't begun yet."
"All right, then; I will open the season."
However, as will be seen, I did not venture to cross the Tuileries with my accoutrements: I went round by the place de la Révolution, I crossed it without hindrance and went down the whole length of the rue Saint-Honoré. The barricades in the rue de l'Échelle and the rue des Pyramides had been broken down. When I reached the rue de Richelieu and saw a regiment at the top of the place Louvois, from the other side of the Palais-Royal a dense line of troops was visible, and a squadron of Lancers was stationed in the place du Palais-Royal. There was no passage left me unless I went back the way I had come. I found I was nearly opposite my old offices, No. 216. So I went in and upstairs to the first floor. There I found Oudard. He looked at me, hesitating whether to recognise me.
"What! is that you?" he asked.
"No doubt about that."
"What are you doing here to-day?"
"I have come to see if I cannot meet the Duc d'Orléans."
"What do you want with him?"
I began to laugh.
"I want to address him asYour Majesty," I replied.
Oudard uttered a lamentable cry of distress.
"Unlucky fellow!" he said, "how can you utter such words? Suppose anybody heard you!"
"Yes, but nobody will hear me—the duke least of all." "Why so?"
"Because I presume he is at Neuilly."
"The Duc d'Orléans is in his right place!" Oudard replied magisterially.
"My dear Oudard, as I am much less well versed in matters of etiquette than yourself, allow me to inquire where the right place is?"
"Why, by the king's side, I suppose."
"Then," I said, "I present my compliments to His Highness."
At this moment drums began beating at the corner of the rue de Richelieu, turning by the rue Saint-Honoré, and advancing towards the Palais-Royal. Behind them came a general, surrounded by his staff of officers. I could see them plainly through the chinks of the outside blinds.
I felt a great desire to make Oudard sick with fear.
"Look here, Oudard," I said, "I am strongly of opinion that if I picked off the general who is just passing it would considerably advance the affairs of M. le Duc d'Orléans ... who is so near the king."
And I covered the general with my gun. Oudard became as pale as death and flung himself upon my gun, which was not even cocked. I laughingly showed him the hammer lowered on the nipple.
"Oh!" he said, "you will leave this place, will you not?"
"You must wait till the soldiers have filed past.... I cannot reasonably attack, singlehanded, two or three thousand men."
Oudard sat down, and I laid my gun in a corner and opened the window wide.
"What are you up to next?" he asked.
"I am going to amuse myself by watching the military pass by"; and I watched them from beginning to end.
They went to the Hôtel de Ville, where warm fighting had begun. The general in command, whom I had picked out to Oudard's extreme terror, was General Wall.
I went back by the rue de Richelieu, behind the last ranks, with my gun on my shoulder, as quietly as though I were going to the opening of the shooting season, on the plains of Saint-Denis.
The aspect of the rue de Richelieu—Charras—L'École polytechnique—The head with the wig—The café of the Porte Saint-Honoré—The tricoloured flag—I become head of a troop—My landlord gives me notice—A gentleman who distributes powder—The captain of the 15th Light Infantry
The aspect of the rue de Richelieu—Charras—L'École polytechnique—The head with the wig—The café of the Porte Saint-Honoré—The tricoloured flag—I become head of a troop—My landlord gives me notice—A gentleman who distributes powder—The captain of the 15th Light Infantry
The rue de Richelieu wore a very strange aspect. Hardly had the troops left the street before the insurgents audaciously entered it, or, rather, issuing from every door, reigned there supreme. In all directions the fleurs de lys were blotted out along with the royal monogram, whilst everywhere the mottoes were daubed with mud. To the cries of "Vive la Charte!" began to succeed those of "A has les Bourbons!" Armed men appeared at the street corners, looking as though in search of some centre of resistance or field of battle. From time to time a shop door would open and, through the half-opened space, a soldier of the Garde National in his uniform could be seen, still hesitating to come out, but only awaiting the right moment to join in the vast tumult. Women waved handkerchiefs out of the windows and cried bravo to every man who appeared with a gun in his hand. Nobody walked with his usual step, all ran. No one spoke as usual, they jerked out half-finished expressions. A universal fever seemed to have seized the population: it was a wonderful sight! The coldest and most unsympathetic being would have been compelled to join in the general excitement abroad.
I reached theNationaloffices and, at the door, I met Carrel in conversation with Paulin.
"Ah!" I exclaimed, "there you are!... good. They told me you had left Paris and were in the country with Thiersand Mignet, they even said that you were in the valley of Montmorency."
"Who told you that?"
"As though I could remember!..." And, indeed, I could not have said who had told me this bit of news, which had been given me, moreover, by way of proving to me what little effect the leaders of the movement were themselves having upon the so-called Revolution which was going on.
"There is some truth in the rumour," he said. "I really did go into the country with Thiers, Mignet and another person whom I wished to place in safety."
"Élisa?" I said heedlessly.
"Yes, my wife Élisa," Carrel emphasised; "but directly she was in a place of safety I returned, and here I am."
Carrel was quite sincere in the few words he had just uttered. Those who lived in intimate intercourse with Carrel knew the person I had just called Élisa, whom, by way of reading me a lesson, he had called hiswife.He adored this lady, who was indeed adorable and the best and most devoted of women! There existed between them one of those liaisons that society proscribes but the heart respects—a love which redeems the fault committed by such virtue that out of a sinner it creates a saint. What became of this poor noble creature after Carrel's death? I have no idea; but I know that when I heard of the terrible accident I thought far less of him who had died than of her who was condemned to live.
I ask the forbearance of my readers for so often digressing from my subject to speak of affairs of the heart such as this, but I am writing my Memoirs and not a history; my impressions, and not a compilation of dates: as my impressions recur to my memory, so do they cause a dark or a golden cloud to float between my eyes and my paper, according as they are sad or joyful.
We were now joined by a fine, handsome lad of between twenty and twenty-two. Carrel held out his hand to him.
"Oh! so it is you, Charras?" he said.
"Yes. I have been looking for you."
"For what purpose?"
"To ask you where they are fighting."
"Is there fighting anywhere?" Carrel questioned.
"My goodness! Of course there is!"
"Well! no matter; but I should never have thought it was so difficult a matter to get one's head broken.... Since yesterday night I have been running all over the place with that object in view and I haven't yet got my desire!"
Charras, one of the bravest officers in the African army and one of the staunchest characters of the Revolution of 1848, had been driven out of the École polytechnique, at the beginning of 1830, for having sung "La Marseillaise" and cried "Vive La Fayette!" at a dinner. One of these two offences would alone have been enough to have expelled him, but, as they could not turn him out twice, they had to be content with turning him out once for all. Since that time, he had lived at No. 38 rue des Fossés-du-Temple, at Fresnoy the actor's, who kept a furnished hotel, being also, at the same time, a manager of the Petit-Lazari theatre of marionnettes, which the protection and influence of his tenant changed into a theatre of living, speaking actors, a week after the Revolution of July. Since the 26th, Charras had been planning what part his old comrades the students of the École polytechnique could play in the insurrection; consequently, he at once put himself into communication with them, and, on the 27th, he had managed to distribute among them the Opposition journals that had appeared, theGlobe, theTempsand theNational.The printer of theCourrier françaishad declined his presses, and theConstitutionneland theDébatshad not dared to appear. At two o'clock, the graduate students, sergeants and sergeant-majors, who had the right to go out as they liked, had rushed into the streets, and had drawn all the quarters seething with revolt, returning to the École saying, after what they had seen, that a collision was imminent. At this piece of news the excitement became intense. About seven o'clock they heardmusket shots in the rue du Lycée and volley firing in the rue Saint-Honoré. The students were soon collected in the billiard-room, and there they decided that four of their members should be sent to Laffitte, to La Fayette and to Casimir Périer to tell them the feeling of the École and that the students were ready to throw themselves into the insurrection. The École numbered between forty to fifty Republicans, as many, perhaps, as Paris contained among her twelve hundred thousand inhabitants. The four students chosen were MM. Berthelin, Pinsonnière, Tourneux and Lothon. The authorities tried to keep them in, but they broke out without leave and arrived at Charras's lodgings at nine o'clock in the evening. Charras was busy burning down the guard-house in the place de la Bourse, and did not return home until half-past eleven. But that did not matter, and it was decided they should go at once to Laffitte's house. They left the rue des Fossés-du-Temple at midnight and reached the door of his hotel at twenty minutes past. They rang and knocked at the same time, so great was their haste to gain an entrance. Moreover, in the innocence of their hearts, the five youths imagined that Laffitte was in as great a hurry to accept their lives as they themselves were to offer them. An ill-tempered concierge opened a wicket-gate.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"To speak to M. Laffitte."
"What about?"
"About the Revolution."
"Who are you?"
"Students from the École polytechnique."
"M. Laffitte has gone to bed."
And the porter shut the door in the faces of the five young fellows.
Charras had a great mind to force open the door and even went so far as to propose it, but, being dissuaded by his companions, he merely heaped abuse upon the concierge.
The manner of their reception at Laffitte's did not encourage them to pay the other calls they had planned to make: theyagreed to call next day on La Fayette and Casimir Périer, but in the meanwhile they would return to the rue des Fossés-du-Temple. They therefore went back to the Hôtel Fresnoy and accommodated themselves as best they could on mattresses, on chairs, or on the floor. Next day, at dawn, they went to a professor of mathematics, named Martelet, who coached for the École examinations. M. Martelet lived at No. 16 rue des Fossés-du-Temple. They wanted to procure themselves civilian's dress—the king's highway not being safe in open daylight for the students who wore the École uniform. The five friends found all, they required at M. Martelet's house. Then, as they feared that if they called upon La Fayette too early, the same thing would happen as when they called too late at Laffitte's, they set to work to build a barricade in order to pass the time of waiting.
A wigmaker was busy in a house opposite that of M. Martelet, curling and powdering a wig: the young men invited him to join them; but, whether the wigmaker's political opinions differed from the makers of the barricade, or whether he was too much engrossed in his art and thought his time was better employed in powdering and curling wigs, he refused. By chance the barricade and the wig were both finished at the same moment. As there was nobody to guard the barricade, they took a model of a head with its pedestal from the wigmaker's shop, placed it behind the paving-stones, dressed it up in the freshly powdered and curled wig, rammed a three-cornered hat jauntily on the top and confided the protection of the barricade, to the mannikin, forbidding the wigmaker under pain of death to dare to make any change in the strategic arrangements. After which they directed their course to La Fayette's dwelling-place. La Fayette was not at home. The young people left their names with the concierge, and were about to resume their Odyssey by going to knock at the door of Casimir Périer. But Charras thought two fruitless attempts were enough, and left his comrades to fulfil their third attempt by themselves, which proved as barren as the first two. He sought out Carrel to inquire where fighting was taking place. Butnobody seemed to know. There was a general idea that there was fighting going on near the Hôtel de Ville, and, at certain moments, the great bell of Notre-Dame could be heard ringing. As Charras had no arms he was able to take a direct course by the Palais-Royal and the Pont des Arts or by the Pont Neuf; whilst I, who had my gun, was obliged to retrace my steps the way I had come, by the faubourg Saint-Germain, the place de la Révolution and the rue de Lille. Charras went his way and I mine. We shall find Charras again later. Carrell went to thePetite-Jacobinièreand I went back again into the streets.
The spirit of hatred was still spreading: people were no longer satisfied with effacing the fleurs de lys from the signboards, they now dragged them in the gutters.
I called at Hiraux's for a few minutes (the reader will recall the son of my old violin master, who kept and still keeps the café de la Porte Saint-Honoré). I went in there first of all to see him, and secondly, because there seemed a great agitation going on inside his house. It was caused by a piece of news which was being spread abroad and which exasperated people. It was said that the Duc de Raguse had offered his services to the king, to take command of the armed forces in Paris. If this news sounded odd to the world at large, it surprised me still more: only two days before, had I not heard the Duc de Raguse, at the Academy deploring the Ordinances and asking François Arago not to speak? And, as a matter of fact, he had had no thought of offering his services for the post until Marshal Marmont, who was in a state of despair, had received that very morning, from the Prince de Polignac, the order appointing him to the command of the first military division. He had been upon the point of refusing, but his evil genius had prevented him from doing so. There are men predestined to do fatal acts! This news probably threw five hundred more combatants into the streets.
When I reached the Pont de la Révolution, I stopped short in stupefaction to rub my eyes, for I thought they must have deceived me: the tricolour was floating from Notre-Dame!I must confess that I experienced a strange feeling of emotion at the sight of that flag, which I had not seen since 1815 and which recalled so many noble memories of those Revolutionary times and so many glorious recollections of the Imperial rule. I leant against the parapet with outstretched arms and my eyes filled with tears, rivetted upon the sight.
From la Grève side a lively fusillade burst forth, the smoke rising in dense clouds. The sight of my gun brought a dozen people round me. Two or three were armed with guns, others had pistols or swords.
"Will you lead us?" they said. "Will you be our chief?"
"Indeed I will!" I replied. "Come along."
We went across the Pont de la Révolution and we took our way through the rue de Lille, to avoid the Orsay barracks, which commanded the quay. The drums of the National Guard were beginning to beat therappeland, our little company forming a nucleus, I had fifty men round me, with two drums and a banner, by the time I reached the rue du Bac. As I passed my rooms, I wished to go upstairs to fetch some money, as I had gone out in the morning without troubling to look to see what I had upon me, and I found I had only fifteen francs; but the landlord had come and had given the porter orders not to admit me. My conduct that morning had given rise to scandal: I had, myself, with nineteen others, disarmed three soldiers of the Royal Guard, and, with nine others, I had made three barricades; finally, as they evidently thought I was so rich that they could risk lending me something, they added to the charges against me the murder of the gendarme by Arago and Gauja. My troop made me the same offer that Charras had made to his comrades, the night before; they offered to break in the door, but I was fond of my lodgings, they were very comfortable and I had not any desire that my landlord should turn me out, so I restrained the enthusiastic zeal of my men.
We resumed our journey along the rue de l'Université. At that moment, I had nearly thirty men with me who were armedwith rifles; when we got to the top of the rue Jacob it occurred to me to ask them if they had ammunition. They had not ten cartridges between them; but this fact had not prevented their marching to face fire with that naïve and sublime self-confidence which characterises the people of Paris during periods of insurrection.
We went into an armourer's shop whose arms had all been seized, to ask him if he could tell us where to find some cartridges. He told us that we should find amonsieurat the small gate of the Institut, in the rue Mazarine, who was distributing powder. Now, although it was highly improbable that such amonsieurexisted, we went off to the address indicated.
The information was perfectly correct: we found the little door of the Institut, and themonsieurwho was distributing powder. Who was the gentleman and where did he hail from? And on whose behalf did he distribute this powder? I know nothing about it and shall certainly not put myself out about the question now, as I did not allow it to trouble me at the time. I simply state the bare facts. A queue had been formed, as you may suppose. Each man armed with a gun received a dozen charges of powder; every man with a pistol received six. Themonsieurdid not keep bullets; and these I hoped to procure at Joubert's, in the Dauphine passage. I left my men in the street and went alone to Joubert's, for fear of alarming those who lived down the passage. Joubert had gone off with Godefroy Cavaignac and Guinard. Cavaignac and Guinard had quarrelled; but, when they met by chance at Joubert's, guns in hand, they fell into one another's arms and made it up. In spite of the absence of the master of the house, they gave me fifty bullets, which I took away to my men. This hardly allowed us two balls to each gun; but we pursued our way, putting our trust in Providence.
As we were going to the place de Grève, we went by the rue Guénégaud, the Pont Neuf and the quai de l'Horloge. It seemed there was to be no opposition to our march, which was hastened by the sound of musketry and cannon; until,on arriving at the quai aux Fleurs, we found ourselves face to face with a whole regiment. It was the 15th Light Infantry. Thirty rifles and fifty rounds of ammunition were scarcely enough with which to attack fifteen hundred men. We pulled up. However, as the troop did not assume an aggressive attitude towards us, I made my men halt, advanced to the regiment with my gun erect and indicated by signs that I wished to speak with an officer. A captain came out to meet me.
"What is your business, monsieur?" he asked.
"A passage for myself and men."
"Where are you going?"
"To the Hôtel de Ville."
"What to do?"
"Why, to fight," I replied.
The captain began to laugh.
"Really, Monsieur Dumas," he said to me, "I didn't think you were as mad as that."
"Ah! you know me?" I said.
"I was on guard one night at the Odéon whenChristinewas being played and I had the honour of seeing you."
"Then let us talk like two good friends."
"That is indeed what I am doing, it seems to me."
"Why am I a madman?"
"You are a madman, first of all, because you risk getting yourself killed, when it is not your calling to get killed; secondly, you are mad for asking us to allow you to pass through, because you know very well we shall not do so.... Besides, look what will happen to you if we grant your request—the same that has happened to these poor devils who are being brought in...."
And he showed me two or three wounded, returning leaning upon the shoulders of their comrades or laid on stretchers.
"Oh, ah! but you yourself? What are you doing here?" I asked him.
"A very sad thing, monsieur,—our duty. By good luck,the regiment has, so far, received no orders beyond the prevention of traffic. We are restricting ourselves, as you see, to the execution of that order. So long as no one fires on us, we shall fire on no one either. Go and tell that to your men and let them turn back quietly, and if, to go further still, you have enough influence over them to persuade them to return to their homes, you will be doing the very best deed possible!"
"I thank you for your advice, monsieur," I said, laughing in my turn; "but I doubt whether my companions will be disposed to follow the latter part of it."
"Then it will be so much the worse for them, monsieur!"
I bowed and turned to go away.
"By the bye," he said, "when willAntonyappear? Is not that the title of the first play you mean to have performed?"
"Yes, Captain."
"When?"
"When we have accomplished the Revolution, seeing that the Censorship has suppressed my play, and that it needs nothing less than a Revolution to permit the performance of it—so they have told me at the Ministry of the Interior."
The officer shook his head.
"Then I am very much afraid, monsieur, that the play will never see daylight."
"You are afraid of that?"
"Yes."
"All right—here's to the first representation! And if you would like seats at it, come to No. 25 rue de l'Université and ask me for them."
We bowed. The captain returned to his company, and I rejoined my troop, to whom I related all that had passed. Our first care was to retire beyond gunshot, in case our advisers should change their views for less pacific ones. Then we held counsel together.
"Upon my word!" one of my men remarked, "the matter is easy enough. Do we or do we not wish to go where there is fighting?"
"We do."
"Well, then, let us go down the rue du Harlay, the quai des Orfèvres and return to the Pont Notre-Dame by the rue de la Draperie and the rue de la Cité."
This proposition was unanimously adopted: our two drums began to beat again, and we reascended the quai de l'Horloge to put our fresh strategic plan into execution.
The attack on the Hôtel de Ville—Rout—I take refuge at M. Lethière's—The news—My landlord becomes generous—General La Fayette—Taschereau—Béranger—The list of the Provisional Government—Honest mistake of theConstitutionnel
The attack on the Hôtel de Ville—Rout—I take refuge at M. Lethière's—The news—My landlord becomes generous—General La Fayette—Taschereau—Béranger—The list of the Provisional Government—Honest mistake of theConstitutionnel
We kept strictly to the route agreed on. A quarter of an hour after our departure from the quai de l'Horloge, we issued forth by the little street of Glatigny. We arrived in the nick of time: they were going to make a decisive charge upon the Hôtel de Ville by the suspension bridge. Only, if we wished to join in the attack, we must hurry on. Our two drums beat the charge and we advanced at quick pace. We could see about a hundred men in the distance (who composed pretty nearly the whole of the insurgent army) boldly marching towards the bridge, a tricolour standard at their head, when, suddenly, a piece of cannon was pointed and fired in such a way as to rake the whole length of the bridge.
The cannon was charged with grapeshot and the effect of the discharge was terrible. The standard disappeared; some eight or ten men fell and a dozen to fifteen took flight. But the fugitives rallied again at the outcries of those who remained unmoved on the bridge. From the point where we were sheltered by the parapet, we fired on the place de Grève and upon the gunners at the cannon, two of whom fell. They were instantly replaced, and with indescribable rapidity the cannon was reloaded and fired a second time. There was frightful confusion on the bridge; many of the assailants must have been killed or wounded, to judge by the gaps in their ranks. One of us shouted—
"To the bridge! To the bridge!"
We soon sprang forward; but we had not cleared a third of the distance when the cannon thundered forth a third time, and at the same moment the troop advanced upon the bridge with fixed bayonets. Hardly twenty combatants survived that third discharge; forty or so lay dead or wounded on the bridge. Not only was there no longer any means of attacking, but, further, we could not dream of defending ourselves—four to five hundred men were charging us with fixed bayonets! By good fortune we only had to cross the quay in order to reach the network of little streets which were buried in the heart of the city. A fourth discharge of the cannon killed three or four more of our men and hastened our retreat, which, from that moment, might be more accurately described as a rout. This was the first time I had ever heard the whistling of grapeshot, and I confess I shall not believe anyone who tells me he has heard this sound for the first time unmoved. We did not even attempt to rally, and, with the exception of one of the drummers whom I met upon the square in front of Notre-Dame, my whole troop had vanished like smoke. But, five minutes later, we met each other again, some fifteen of us, who all arrived by different streets from the bridge. The news they brought was disastrous: the standard-bearer, whom they asserted was called Arcole, had been killed; Charras, they said, was mortally wounded; finally, the bridge was literally strewn with dead. I thought I had done enough for one day, considering I was a novice in my military career; also, cries round us announced the approach of soldiers: they were coming to take down the tricoloured flag from the tower and to stop the ringing of the great bell of Notre-Dame, which boomed on with admirable persistence, dominating all other sounds, even that of the cannon. I regained the quai des Orfèvres and the same street, rue Guénégaud, by which I had passed triumphantly at the head of my fifty men only an hour before; I went down the rue Mazarine and, by the same door from which themonsieurhad distributed powder, I entered the house of my friend, Lethière. I was received just as cordially as usual, even moreso, perhaps: M. Lethière held strong Liberal views, Mademoiselle d'Hervilly was almost Republican. They gave me some of that famous rum-arrack which comes directly from la Guadeloupe, of which I was inordinately fond! Upon my word, it was good, after listening to the whistle of grapeshot and seeing fifty men mowed down, to find oneself among warm friends who embraced and shook hands with one and poured one out arrack!
It was almost three o'clock: M. Lethière declared that he had got me and did not mean to let me go again that day. I asked nothing better than to be kept back compulsorily, and remained to dinner. At five, Lethière's son came in, bringing news with him. Fighting was going on, or had gone on, in every quarter of Paris. The boulevards were on fire from the Madeleine to the Bastille; half the trees were cut down and had been used in the making of upwards of forty barricades. The Mairie of Petits-Pères had been taken by three patriots, whose names were already known—MM. Degousée, Higonnet and Laperche. In the faubourg and in the rue de Saint-Antoine the enthusiasm had been extraordinary: they had crushed the soldiers, who were coming from Vincennes, beneath furniture which was flung on them from the windows. Nothing had come amiss as arms: wood from bedsteads, cupboards, chests of drawers, marble, chairs, firedogs, screens, cisterns, bottles—even a piano had been thrown down! The troops were completely decimated. The attack in the Louvre district had advanced as far as the place Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois. A column of twenty men had marched to battle headed by a violin which playedRan tan plan tire lire!And, more than this: the members of the Chamber were beginning to rouse themselves. They met at the house of Audry de Puyraveau, and talked much but did little. That was better than nothing! Finally, they decided that five deputies should wait upon the Duc de Raguse to lay certain propositions before him, and to treat with him if necessary.
"Four millions," Casimir Périer said, "would, according to my thinking, be well spent in this matter."
The five deputies repaired to the headquarters in the square, where the marshal was: they were MM. Laffitte, Casimir Périer, Mauguin, Lobau and Gérard. They had been shown in at Marmont's house, where they found François Arago, who had preceded them on the same errand; but neither the one nor the other had had the slightest success whatever. While they were waiting at the marshal's, a lancer, with his chest horribly lacerated by a gunshot, had been carried into the next room to the one in which the conference was being held. They could not at first tell what kind of projectile the wound could have been made with: the surgeon thought it must have been shot used for killing hares. But it was with printer's type! The men whose presses had been broken were taking their revenge. This is only a detail, but it was one which indicated how each person used whatever means he had at hand in default of proper arms.
The news, as will be seen, was not bad, but there was nothing decisive about it yet. The people, the bourgeoisie, young lads, had flung themselves passionately into the insurrection; it was the financial circles and those in high places in the army and the aristocracy who hung back. M. Dumoulin had been seen in his plumed hat, with his great sword by his side, haranguing in the rue Montmartre; and Colonel Dufys, dressed as one of the people, with a scarf round his head, had been seen urging on the insurgents; but M. de Rémusat was still suffering from a feverish attack at theGlobeoffices, and M. Thiers and M. Mignet were at Montmorency, at the house of Madame de Courchamp, whilst M. Cousin talked of the white flag as the only one that could save France; M. Charles Dupin, meeting Étienne Arago under one of the pavilions by the Institut, had exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, seeing him with a gun in his hand—
"Oh! monsieur, has it come to this, that soldiering is your work now?"
M. Dubois, chief editor of theGlobe, had given up his editorship; M. Sebastiani was for keeping in orderly legal ways; M. Alexandre de Girardin protested that it suitedFrance best to have the Bourbons without the Ultras; Carrel loudly condemned the folly of those citizens who attacked the military; then, finally, when the people and bourgeoisie and the youths from the colleges were shedding their blood freely and without stint, MM. Laffitte, Mauguin, Casimir Périer, Lobau and Gérard were satisfied with trying to draw up a measure of conciliation with the man who was firing grapeshot over Paris!
If, next day, things did not settle themselves more favourably, they would certainly become worse. There were not really more than from twelve to thirteen thousand men in Paris; but there were fifty thousand within a radius of twenty-five to thirty leagues, and the semaphores, which flourished their huge, mysterious arms in the eyes of all, showed that the Government had a thousand things to tell the provinces which it was particularly anxious that Paris should not know.
The upshot of all this was that it was quite possible that on the next day, the 29th, the heroes of the 27th and 28th would be obliged to clear out of the capital, if not out of France itself. With a view to this eventuality, M. Lethière inquired the state of my finances, and offered to help me in case of need (it was not the first time he had done me a similar service), but I was quite rich, for, when I was ready to start for Algiers, I had called in all my theatrical payments and was in possession of something like a thousand crowns. But M. Lethière, who knew my way of economising, declined to believe in this fortune and suspected me of boasting. It was true my fortune was under sequestration, on account of the orders my landlord had given forbidding me to enter my rooms. But this ban could not also include my friends. Therefore, as much to relieve the mind of the excellent man who offered to lend me money as to put myself in possession of my own fortune, I deputed M. Lethière's son to take a message to my servant; giving him the key of the place where I kept the purse containing my three thousand francs and my passport,—two things each equally necessary at that moment,—I begged my obliging commissionaire to effect an invasion of my premises, whetherby fair means or foul, and to bring me back my purse. He was also to bring some forty bullets which he would find deposited in a cup on my bedroom mantelpiece, to replace those I had made use of during the day. He was also to be so obliging as to leave a letter at No. 7 rue de l'Université, as he passed: the letter told the person to whom it was addressed to be quite easy on my account; it also told her I was in safety, and I promised not to commit any follies. This pledged me to nothing, since it left me free to place my own limits as to what things were prudent and what were rash. Half an hour later, Lethière returned with all the commissions executed. He had not only not experienced any trouble at the hands of the concierge, but the landlord had relented—no doubt on account of the way he saw that things were turning out: he had given me permission to return on condition that I would give my word of honour not to fire from the windows of his rooms. The insurrection had wrought one great moral victory, at any rate.
I left my good, worthy friend Lethière at nine o'clock and returned home, first giving the concierge the requisite promise. He had run round the whole of the faubourg Saint-Germain, and the result of his exploration, ordered by the landlord himself, was that the whole quarter was in a state of insurrection. There was talk of a great meeting to be held next morning, in the place de l'Odéon, as a suitable centre from which they could set out to attack the various barracks or guard-houses, which usually play the same part in the midst of an insurrection that fortified places do during an invasion.
I returned, but not to go to bed, only to deposit my gun, powder and balls; I meant to spend a good part of the night in gleaning information. I felt it was urgently needful to implicate, by some means or other, those great leaders of the Opposition who had been waiting for fifteen years, and I desired to know if our friends were busy over this little piece of work. I dressed myself, therefore, for the occasion, and tried to cross the bridges. The sentries on duty at the gates of the Tuileries and the Carrousel were expressly forbidden to allow anyone whomsoever to enter without the password. Through thestone arcade could be seen the court of the Tuileries and the square of the Carrousel transformed into a vast, dark, dreary camp, silent and almost motionless. The soldiers looked more like phantoms than like men. I went along the quay, and by the place de la Révolution and the rue Saint-Honoré, as I had done in the morning. All the shops were shut, but there were lamps in most of the windows. Foot passengers were scarce and, as the noise of traffic had nearly ceased, on account of the obstruction caused by the barricades, the lugubrious, ceaseless ringing of the bell of Notre-Dame could be heard in the air, like the sound of a flight of bronze birds. As I went down the quay, I remembered Paul Fouché and his play, and I felt curious to know if he had read it to the Committee and if his drama had been received or rejected. I have already said that I knew General La Fayette. I attempted what Charras and the students of the École polytechnique had failed in—I went to call upon him. They told me he was out, which I doubted at first, and I went inside the porter's lodge and told him my name; but the honest man repeated there what he had already said to me through his little grating. I was going away very much disappointed when I saw three or four men walking in the darkness, and in the middle figure I thought I recognised that of the general. I went forward and it was he. He was leaning upon M. Carbonnel's arm; M. de Lasteyrie, I believe, came behind, talking to a servant.
"Ah! General," I exclaimed; "it is you!"
He recognised me.
"Good!" he said. "I am surprised that I have not seen you before now."
"It is not easy to gain access to you, General"; and I related all that Charras and his friends had gone through in their attempt.
"True," he said; "I found their names and ordered that they should be admitted if they returned."