One word about what was passing while Bart was running along the quay Pelletier and I was scampering down the rue Saint-Martin.
Étienne Arago returned to theNationaloffice when he had dispersed his men.
"Do you know the news?" Stapfer asked him.
"What news?"
"Thiers is found once more."
"Pooh! Where is he, then?"
"He is up there, and has begun searching for some subject to write a leader on."
"Well, then, I will take him one."
"You know nobody is allowed to enter his office when he is working?"
"Rubbish! Haven't we been into the king's study?"
"Well, then, go in. You can give him that reason as an excuse, and he will indeed be hard to please if he is not satisfied with it."
Arago entered.
Thiers turned round to see who had the impertinence to defy his orders.
He recognised Arago, who had played a very important rôle in the drama being enacted. The frowning face of the famous political writer softened when he saw who it was.
"Oh! it is you!" he said.
"Yes.... I have hunted you out to give you a subject for an article."
"What is it?"
Arago related the whole adventure of Montrouge and how M. le Duc de Chartres had managed to escape in time.
Thiers listened with the deepest attention.
"Dear, dear," he said when Arago had finished. "Whoknows but that you have probably saved the life of a son of France...."
Arago stood with his mouth gaping and his eyes inordinately wide open.
And that was the way the wind was blowing on 30 July 1830, at 3.15 in the afternoon! The wind changed Thiers' plans, and, instead of writing his article, he got up and ran off to Laffitte's.
We shall see, on my return from Soissons, what he did there.
Gee up, Polignac!—André Marchais—Post-master at Bourget—I display the Tricolour on my carriage—Bard joins me—M. Cunin-Gridaine—Old Levasseur—Struggle with him—I blow out his brains!—Two old acquaintances—The terror of Jean-Louis—Our halt at Villers-Cotterets—Hutin—Supper with Paillet
Gee up, Polignac!—André Marchais—Post-master at Bourget—I display the Tricolour on my carriage—Bard joins me—M. Cunin-Gridaine—Old Levasseur—Struggle with him—I blow out his brains!—Two old acquaintances—The terror of Jean-Louis—Our halt at Villers-Cotterets—Hutin—Supper with Paillet
By the time I reached Villette I could not put one leg before the other. But, by good luck, I caught sight of a trap.
"Driver," I said, "ten francs if you take me to Bourget!"
"Fifteen?"
"Ten!"
"Fifteen!"
"Nonsense!"
"Well, then, jump in, governor."
In I jumped, and we set off. The horse was a slow one, but the driver was a good patriot. When he knew how great a hurry I was in, and the object of my journey, he said—
"Oh! it's no wonder, then, that my horse will not trot any faster, for I christened him Polignac; he is an idle good-for-nothing that one can do nothing with.... But don't be anxious, we shall get there all right."
And he took hold of his whip by the lash end, struck the horse with the handle instead of the thong, and shouted, "Gee up, get along, Polignac!" By dint of shouting, swearing and lashing we reached Bourget in an hour's time. The wretched horse was at the last gasp, and I thought that, like his illustrious namesake, he had reached the end of his tether. I paid the ten francs agreed upon, and I nobly added two francs as a tip—then I went into the posting-house yard. The posting-masterwas just harnessing a horse to a trap. I went up to him, gave him my name, showed him the order from General Gérard and General La Fayette's proclamation, and asked him to provide me with the necessary means of fulfilling my mission.
"Monsieur Dumas," he said, "I was putting my horse in to go to Paris in search of information; but there will now be no need for me to go since you bring such excellent news. I will therefore put post-horses into the trap and take you as far as Mesnil; if you do not find a conveyance there, you can keep my trap, and on your return you will replace it in the coach-house."
No one could have spoken fairer. In the midst of our conversation, I heard myself called by name, and, as it was too soon for Bard to have arrived, I turned round to see who it was. It was André Marchais, one of our warmest and most disinterested patriots; he had posted from Brussels, where the news of the insurrection had only arrived the day before. He was miserable when he learned that it was all over. Selfish fellow! He hoped to get killed or wounded for the good cause.
We embraced heartily. I afterwards learnt that, when he reached Paris, he found a writ awaiting him, signed by the Duc de Raguse, in common with the same sent to General La Fayette, Laffitte and Audry de Puyraveau. While we were greeting one another, the horses were being put to my carriage and to Marchais's, and then Marchais' started for Paris.
"I am now at your service," said the posting-master, who seemed surprised I was not in a great hurry.
"Pardon," I replied. "I am waiting for a companion who is coming from Paris with my horse and pistols.... I am intending, if you will allow me, to leave my horse here in exchange for your trap."
"Leave whatever you like," was his reply.
We gazed down the road as far as we could see, but nothing was yet in sight.
"We shall have time," I said to the posting-master, "to rig up a tricolour flag."
"What for?" he asked.
"To put on your trap.... It will indicate our opinions, and will prevent our being arrested for fugitives."
"Oh! oh!" he said, laughing, "on the contrary, they are more likely to stop you, because ... you look like something quite different."
"Never mind, I shall be delighted to sail under the three colours."
"Ah! as far as that goes, that's easy enough!"
He crossed the street, went into a draper's shop, bought half a yard each of white, blue and red merino, got the people to sew the three half yards together, and nailed them to a broom handle. The flag was ready in ten minutes, and it cost twelve francs, broom stick included. We fastened it with two cords to the hood of the trap. As we were accomplishing this task we caught sight of Bard, who arrived on my horse at full gallop. I signed to him to hurry yet more if it were possible, but he could not go faster. At last he joined us.
"Ah!" he said, "I am glad to see that you have got a carriage, for I am dreadfully saddle sore!"
Then, as he stepped to the ground, he said, "There are your horse and pistols."
"You did not think to bring a shirt too?"
"Upon my word I didn't! I don't think you mentioned anything about a shirt."
"No, it is my own fault.... Hand the horse to the stable lad, take the pistols and be sharp and get in; it is five o'clock already!"
"A quarter to five," the post-master remarked, looking at his watch.
"Do you think we shall reach Soissons before eleven to-night?"
"It will be a difficult job—but there, so many miracles have happened the last three days that it would not be impossible for you to perform this one."
And he gave orders to the postillion to mount the horse.
"Are you on?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Then off you go; gallop the whole way, you understand?"
"I understand, governor," said the postillion.
And he set off at a furious pace.
"You know the pistols aren't loaded," Bard said.
"All right! we will load them at Villers-Cotterets."
By a quarter to six we were at Mesnil: we had covered nearly four leagues in the hour.
Luckily there were fresh horses at the post. Our postillion here got another postboy to take up the running, and, in order that we might make even better speed, they put in three horses this time instead of two. I wanted to pay for the stage we had just done, but the posting-master had given his orders and the postillion refused to take the money. I gave him ten francs for himself; he commended us to the fresh postboy and we set off at top speed. Fortunately, the trap was well-seasoned, and in an hour we were at Dammartin. Our tricolour flag produced the desired sensation. The people came out all along our route and made the liveliest signs of enthusiasm; and, by the time we reached our relay at Dammartin, half the town had collected round us.
"This is capital!" exclaimed Bard; "but to make things more lively still, we ought to shout something."
"Right you are, my friend, shout away; and, while you shout, I will take a little nap."
"What shall I shout?"
"Why,Vive la République!to be sure!"
We came out of Dammartin amidst shouts of "Vive la République!"
Between Dammartin and Nanteuil we saw a post-carriage, which, when it caught sight of our tricolour flag, stopped, and its occupants stepped down.
"What news?" a man of about fifty asked us.
"The Louvre is taken and the Bourbons have fled; there is a Provisional Government composed of La Fayette, Gérard, etc.Vive la République!"
The gentleman of fifty scratched his ear and got into hiscarriage again. It was M. Cunin-Gridaine. We resumed our journey, and by twenty to eight we were at Nanteuil. We had only three hours and twenty minutes left and still had twelve leagues to go. It was not likely we could manage it, but my principle always is not to despair so long as there is any vestige of hope left; even then!... At Nanteuil we again changed horses, and the tricoloured flag had its usual effect. Nothing was known of Paris doings, so we brought the first really definite news. They gave us an old postillion, to whom I shouted—
"Four leagues an hour, and three francs as tip."
"All right, all right," said the old fellow. "I know my business. I've driventhe general."
The general was my father; for, you see, I was in my native country here.
"All right; if you have driven my father, you know he liked fast driving. I take after him."
"Right, I know my business."
"Off, then."
"We're off!"
"Oh!" said the postillion I was leaving behind, "I pity you, M. Dumas. You have a bad customer to deal with."
"I will make him go, never fear."
"I hope so.Bon voyage!Come, off you go, Levasseur; put a little quicksilver in your boots!"
And the postillion departed.
"Levasseur," I shouted to him, "I told you three francs for yourself if we reach Levignan by half-past eight."
"If we don't get there by half-past eight we shall by nine. I know my business."
"You understand," I repeated, "I will be at Levignan by half-past eight."
"Bah! only kings sayI will."
"There is no longer a king.... Come, come. Quicker, quicker!"
"Let us climb the rise first, and then we will see about that."
So we climbed the rise, and then old Levasseur put his horses to the trot.
"Oh! Levasseur, this won't do at all," I said.
"How, then, do you want me to go?"
"Faster."
"Faster? It is forbidden."
"Forbidden by whom?"
"By the rules, deuce take it! I know my business, you bet!" "Look here, Levasseur ..."
"What is it?"
"Let me get down."
"Ooh!... ooh!"
The carriage stopped; I got out, and I cut a branch from an elm by the roadside.
"Look here," he said, looking on with great uneasiness, "you are not cutting off that switch to whip my horses with, I hope?"
"Make yourself easy on that score, Levasseur," I said, as I got back into the carriage. "Go on!"
"It is all very well to say go on; but have you cut that stick to beat my horses with is what I want to know?"
"All right, we shall see about that."
"Oh! we shall see about that, shall we? I'm not afraid of you because you have a gun."
"Look here, Levasseur, you know your business as a postillion, don't you?"
"Rather."
"Well, then, I too know mine as a traveller.... Your notion, it would seem, is to go as slowly as possible, while mine is to go as fast as I can. We will see which of us is the stronger."
"We will see whatever you like, I don't care."
I drew out my watch. "You have two minutes in which to make up your mind."
"What to do?"
"To put your horses to the gallop."
"And if I won't?"
"If not, I shall do so myself."
"You mean it?"
"Certainly!"
"Well, I shall like to see the fun."
"You shall, Levasseur, take my word for it."
He began to strike up the lament of Saint Roch. While all this was taking place we had been going at a slow trot.
"Look here, Levasseur," I said, at the end of the first couplet, "I warn you that one minute has gone already."
Levasseur began intoning the second at the top of his voice; but just as he was going to begin the third I gave his horses a sound whack across their quarters with the stick. They made a leap forward and set off at full trot.
"Now, now, what are you doing?" asked the postillion.
Instead of replying, I redoubled my blows and thrashed the horses into a gallop.
"Oh! curse it, curse it, is that what you mean? Let me get down for a second and you shall see, indeed! Ah! you will have to settle with me. Wo! wo! Good heavens, will you stop it?"
"What! stop it, Levasseur?" I shouted, continuing to beat with all the strength in my arms, "when I tell you that I know my business better than you know yours!"
"Once more, will you have done?... No?... Wo! wo! wo!"
It was in vain he cried "Wo!" or reined in his horses; they reared, but galloped all the same. Unluckily, my elm branch broke and I was disarmed. But the horses were so well started that he did not manage to pull them up for a hundred yards.
"Ah! Good heavens! Confound it all!" he shouted. "When I have stopped my horses you shall answer for this, I can tell you!"
"Now, what do you intend to do, Levasseur?" I asked, laughing.
"To unharness them, and leave you and your trap in the middle of the road.... We shall see if it is allowable to put the poor beasts into such a state."
And by degrees he calmed his horses down.
"Hand me one of my pistols," I said to Bard.
"What for?"
"Pass it, quick."
"You aren't going to blow his brains out?"
"I am, indeed!"
"They are not loaded."
"I am going to load them."
Bard gazed at me in terror.
I put a percussion cap on each nipple and rammed a wad down the centre of each barrel. I had just finished the operation when the carriage pulled up, and the postillion got down, swearing, to unfasten the traces, as he had threatened, lifting up his legs one after the other heavily in their great boots. I waited for him, pistol in hand.
"Look here, Levasseur," I said, "if you touch those traces I shall smash your head for you."
He raised his eyes and saw the two muzzles of the pistol.
"Stuff!" he said, "you daren't kill people that fashion!" And he put his hands to the traces.
"Levasseur, take care what you are doing! Do you mean to take out the horses?"
"The horses are mine, and, when they are over-driven, I unharness them."
"Have you a wife and children?"
Again he looked up; the question struck him as an unusual one.
"Yes, I have a wife and four children—a boy and three girls."
"Well, then, Levasseur, let me warn you that, if you do not let the traces alone, the Republic will be obliged to grant a pension to your family."
He began to laugh and to grip the traces with both hands. I pressed the trigger, the cap exploded and the wad hit my man in the middle of his face. He believed he was killed and fell backwards, his face between his hands, half fainting. Before he had recovered from the shock and astonishmentI had drawn off his boots, as Tom Thumb drew off the Ogre's, put them on my own legs, jumped astride the saddle-horse, and we set off at full gallop. Bard nearly fell into the floor of the carriage with laughing. When we had gone three or four hundred yards, I turned round, though I still kept on whipping the horses, and I saw old Levasseur had sat up and begun to collect his senses. A tiny hill we were ascending soon hid him from my sight. I had still nearly a league and a half to make, but I caught up the lost time and did it in seventeen minutes. I reached the post at Levignan with a grand flourish of whips, and, when I pulled the horses up, two persons appeared on the threshold. One was the posting-master, M. Labbé, himself; the other my old friend Cartier, the timber-merchant. Both recognised me at the same time.
"Why; you, my boy!" said Labbé. "Things have gone badly with you then if you have come down to being a postillion?"
Cartier gave me his hands.
"What the devil have you come in such an equipage as that for?"
I related the story of old Levasseur, then all that had happened in Paris.
It was now half-past eight; I had only two hours and a half in which to reach Soissons, and there were still nine long leagues to travel. The probability of succeeding was getting less and less, but I would not give in. I asked M. Labbé for horses; he brought me them immediately, and in five minutes time they were harnessed.
"My goodness," said Cartier to Labbé, "I mean to go along with them. I am curious to know how it will end." And he got in with us.
"Remember me to the postillion," I said to M. Labbé.
And he nodded his head.
"Jean-Louis," he said to the postillion.
"Yes, governor."
"You know old Levasseur?"
"By Jove, I should think I do!"
"You see that gentleman?" pointing to me.
"Yes, I see him."
"Well, he has just killed old Levasseur."
"How?" said the postillion, gaping at me.
"With a pistol shot."
"What for?"
"Because he wouldn't go full gallop.... So take heed, Jean-Louis."
"Is that true?" the man asked, turning pale.
"You can see for yourself, since monsieur has driven in himself and is using the whip and wearing boots of the deceased."
Jean-Louis threw one terrified glance at the whip and the boots and then he set off at a tearing gallop, without saying another word.
"Oh! my poor horses," Labbé shouted after us, "they are going to have a bad time of it."
We reached Villers-Cotterets under the hour, and here quite an ovation awaited me. I had hardly given my name to the first person I met whom I knew, than the news of my arrival by post-conveyance in a trap surmounted by a tricolour flag flew all over the town as rapidly as though it had been sent on telegraph wires. As the news spread, the houses turned out the living with as great unanimity as the tombs will discharge the dead at the sound of the Last Trump. All these living beings ran to the posting-house and reached it as soon as I did. Much explanation had to be given to make them understand my costume, my rifle, my sunburnt condition, the trap, the tricolour flag and why Bard and Cartier were with me. Everybody in that beloved countryside loved me well enough to have the right to put these questions to me. I answered them all, and when the explanations were given, they cried in unison—
"Don't go to Soissons! Soissons is a Royalist town!"
But it scarcely need be said that I had not come asfar as Villers-Cotterets without intending to proceed to Soissons.
"I not only intend to go to Soissons," I replied, "but I shall do all in my power to reach it before eleven o'clock, even if I have to give twenty francs in tips to the postillions."
"If you offer them forty, you will not reach there in time," said a voice I knew; "but you will get there by midnight, and they will let you enter."
The voice belonged to one of my friends who lived at Soissons, the one who, fifteen years previously, when a child like myself, came, an hour before me, to make a suggestion to General Lallemand when a prisoner, similar to the one I put to him an hour later.
"Ah! is that you, Hutin?" I exclaimed. "What shall I do to get in?"
"You will get in because I shall go with you and insist on it.... I belong to Soissons and know the gatekeeper."
"Bravo! What time shall we have?"
"The whole night; but it would be best to arrive before one o'clock."
"Good! then we shall have time for supper?"
"Where are you going to have it?"
Ten voices shouted—
"With me! With me! With us!" and they began to drag me from front, from behind, by the lappets of my coat and the cord of my powder horn and the strap of my gun and the ends of my cravat.
"Excuse me," said another voice, "but he has been previously engaged."
"Ah! Paillet!..."
It was my old head-clerk. I turned towards my many hosts.
"It is quite true. I promised Paillet the last time he visited Paris to come and dine with him."
"So much the better," said Paillet, "since the dining-room is large and those who wish to come and take supper with us will find room enough.... Come, those who are his friends can follow me!"
A score of young fellows followed us—my old comrades, Saunier, Fontaine, Arpin, Labarre, Rajade and many more. We went along the rue de Soissons and stopped at Paillet's house. In a moment almost, thanks to old Cartier, who lived nearly opposite, an excellent supper was improvised. Cartier senior, Paillet, Hutin, and Bard sat down to table. The others sat round, and I had to relate the history of that marvellous epoch-making three days while I was eating, not a single detail of it having penetrated so far as Villers-Cotterets. There were many exclamations of admiration. I next passed to the story of my own mission. And here enthusiasm cooled down. When I announced that I counted on taking alone, by myself, all the powder in a military town of eight thousand inhabitants and eight hundred soldiers, my poor friends looked at one another and said, as General La Fayette had done—
"Why! you must be mad!"
But more serious still than this unanimous opinion of the inhabitants of Villers-Cotterets was that Hutin, a native of Soissons, agreed with their opinion.
"However," he added, "as I said I would attempt the thing with you, I will do so; only it is a hundred to one that before this time to-morrow we shall have been shot."
I turned towards Bard.
"What did I say to you when I proposed you should accompany me, Seigneur Raphaël?" I said.
"You said to me, 'Will you come and get yourself shot with me?'"
"And your reply?"
"I replied I should be only too happy."
"And now?"
"I am still of the same opinion."
"Bless me! my dear fellow, you can see, you can hear. Reflect in time."
"I have reflected."
"And you mean to come?"
"Certainly."
I turned to Hutin again,
"So you are coming?"
"Of course I am."
"Then that is all right," and I raised my glass.
"My friends! to-morrow evening, meet again here! Cartier, a dinner for twenty, on condition that it is eaten whether we are dead or alive. Here are two hundred francs for the dinner!"
"You shall pay for it to-morrow."
"What if I am shot?"
"Then I will pay for it myself."
"Hurrah for old Cartier!"
And I swallowed off the contents of my glass. They all took up the chorus, "Vive Cartier!" and as we had finished supper and it was eleven o'clock and the horses were in the trap, we got up to go.
"Ah! confound it, one moment," I said, reflecting; "we may have to deal with rougher adversaries to-morrow than old Levasseur, therefore let us really load our pistols this time. What gentlemen among you have bullets of the right calibre?"
My pistols took twenty-four size, and it would be a chance, indeed, to find bullets of that calibre.
"Wait a bit," said Cartier, "I can manage that. Have you any bullets in your pocket?"
"Yes, but only size twenty."
"Give me four of them, or rather eight; it is best to have a re-load...."
I gave him eight bullets. Five minutes later, he brought me them back, elongated into slug shot, so that they fitted into the pistols. They were cleaned out, loaded and primed with the greatest care; just as though preparations were being made for a duel. Then for the last time we drank to the success of the enterprise; embraced each other several times and got into the trap, Hutin, Bard and myself; the postillion mounted his horses, and we set off at full gallop along theroad to Soissons in the midst of cries of farewell and cheers of encouragement from my dear good friends. Two hours after we had left Villers-Cotterets the gate of Soissons opened at the voice and name of Hutin, and the gatekeeper let us in to the town, little knowing he was giving entrance to the Revolution.
Arrival at Soissons—Strategic preparations—Reconnaissance round the magazine—Hutin and Bard plant the tricolour flag upon the cathedral—I climb the wall of the powder magazine—Captain Mollard—Sergeant Ragon—Lieutenant-Colonel d'Orcourt—Parleys with them—They promise me neutrality
Arrival at Soissons—Strategic preparations—Reconnaissance round the magazine—Hutin and Bard plant the tricolour flag upon the cathedral—I climb the wall of the powder magazine—Captain Mollard—Sergeant Ragon—Lieutenant-Colonel d'Orcourt—Parleys with them—They promise me neutrality
After twenty-two years have passed, we almost hesitate to write the ensuing narrative, which now seems incredible even to ourselves; but we would refer any who doubt the story tole Moniteurof 9 August, containing the official report which General La Fayette inserted, so that those who were interested might either protest or deny as occasion required. Nobody protested, nobody denied.
At midnight, we were knocking loudly at the door of Hutin's mother's house, who welcomed us with cries of delight, no more I suspicious than was the gatekeeper, concerning the contents of the trapà la Congrèvethat she ordered to be put up in her stable yard.
The following day was market day, and the next business was to concoct a huge tricoloured flag to take the place of the white flag which was floating from the cathedral. Madame Hutin, not thoroughly understanding what we were up to, nor the consequences it might lead to, put at our disposition the red curtains from the dining-room and the blue ones from the drawing-room. A sheet taken from the linen cupboard completed the National Standard. The question of the staff did not trouble us; we should use the one belonging to the white flag. Flag-staffs do not declare their opinions. Everybody in the house—Madame Hutin, her cook, Hutin, Bard and I—all set to the task of sewing, and by three o'clockin the morning, in the early hours of dawn, the last stitch was put in.
This was how we proposed to divide the task: I was to begin by seizing the powder magazine, while Bard and Hutin, under pretext of going to the top of the tower to see the sun rise, were to gain access to the cathedral, pull down the white flag and substitute the tricolour. If the sacristan offered resistance, we intended to fling him from the top of the belfry. Hutin had armed Bard with a carbine and provided himself with a double-barrelled gun. As soon as the flag was raised, the sacristan shut up in the tower and the key of it in Hutin's pocket, the latter was to send Bard to me at the magazine, which was situated among the ruins of the Church of Saint-Jean. Bard could be more useful to me in the powder magazine, as it was kept by three old soldiers whose long service had been recompensed by a position that was almost a sinecure, and whose wounds, covered up in the case of two of them by the ribbon of the Legion of Honour, received during the Empire, allowed no question to arise as to their valour. They were Lieutenant-Colonel d'Orcourt, Captain Mollard and Sergeant Ragon. It was, therefore, highly probable I should need reinforcement.
Whilst Bard was on his way to join me, Hutin, bearing General La Fayette's proclamation, was to go at once to Dr. Missa. Dr. Missa was the head of the Liberal opposition party and had repeated over and over again the statement that he was only waiting a suitable opportunity to move forward. The present opportunity was an excellent one, and we hoped he would not let it go by. Hutin believed he could count on two of his friends equally, one named Moreau and the other Quinette. Quinette, son of a member of the Convention, was the same who, later, became a deputy under Louis-Philippe, and ambassador at Brussels under the Republic. We shall see how each of them responded to the appeal made in the name of the Revolution.
When I left the magazine I was to go to the commander of the town, M. de Linières, and with General Gérard's order inmy hands, obtain the order from him to carry off the powder either willingly or by force. I had been warned that M. de Linières was more than a Royalist! He was an ultra-Royalist.
At the first news of the insurrection of Paris he had declared that no matter how things turned in the capital, he would bury himself under the ruins of Soissons and that the white flag should float from the highest stone of the ruins. It was, accordingly, pretty certain from what quarter we had to expect serious opposition. But I did not trouble myself much about it; each event of the day had to take its chance.
At ten minutes past three in the morning we left Madame Hutin's house. She was a splendidly courageous woman, and urged her son on rather than held him back. We separated at the end of the street, Hutin and Bard to go to the cathedral, and I to the powder magazine. As it would have been a dangerous thing to enter the precincts of the ruins of Saint-Jean by the main door, which was easy to defend, we had agreed that it would be best for me to jump over the wall. Bard was, however, to present himself at the main door, which I was to open to him when I should hear three knocks with an equal space of time between each one. I was at the foot of the wall in less than five minutes' time; it was easy to climb as it was low, with plenty of cracks between its stones to form natural steps.
However, I waited, as I did not wish to begin my excursion until I saw the the tricolour flag floating over the cathedral in place of the white one. Nevertheless, in order to get my bearings, I raised myself up gently by my wrists to the level of the top of the wall in such a manner as to be able to see over. Two men with spades were each engaged in digging quietly, turning over the square plot of a small garden. I recognised them by the pattern of their trousers and by their moustaches to be two of the soldiers who lived in the rooms in front of the powder magazine. The powder was in one or other of the first two sheds, probably in both. The oak door, solid as a postern gate, strengthened by cross-bars and studded with nails, stood between the two sheds. It was shut. Having exploredthe battlefield at a glance, I let myself drop down to the base of the wall and turned my eyes in the direction of the cathedral. Very soon I saw the heads of three men appear above the gallery and then the white flag become agitated in an unusual manner, which could not be attributed to the wind, the absence of which was obvious; finally, the white flag was lowered and disappeared, and the tricolour standard was raised in its place. Hutin and Bard had accomplished their part of the business; it was now time for me to begin mine. It did not take me very long. I examined my gun to see if the primings were in place, slung it over my shoulders, and, by the help of my hands and feet, I quickly got to the top of the wall. The two soldiers had changed their position and were leaning on their spades, looking with marked surprise at the top of the tower where the tricolour flag was triumphantly floating. I leapt down into the magazine premises. At the noise I made as I touched the ground they both turned round simultaneously. The second apparition evidently seemed more extraordinary to them than the first. I had had time to pass my rifle into my left hand and to cock the two triggers. I walked towards them, they still looking at me, motionless with astonishment. I stopped within ten yards of them.
"Gentlemen," I said, "I ask your pardon for the manner of my introduction to your premises, but as you do not know me, you would have refused me entry by the door, which would have occasioned all kinds of delays, and I am in a hurry."
"But, monsieur," Captain Mollard asked, "who are you?"
"I am M. Alexandre Dumas, son of General Alexandre Dumas, whose name you will have known if you served under the Republic; and I have come in the name of General Gérard to ask the military authorities of the town of Soissons for all the powder they can find in the town. Here is my order: will one of you gentlemen come and look at it?"
With my gun in my left hand, I held out my right to them. The captain came up, took the order and read it. Whilst he was doing so, Sergeant Ragon took some steps towards the house.
"Pardon, monsieur," I said, "but since I do not know your purpose in going into your house, I will beg you to remain where you are."
The sergeant stopped short. Captain Mollard gave me back my order.
"That is all right, monsieur. What do you want further?"
"I want a simple enough thing, monsieur.... Do you see that tricolour flag?"
He nodded as an acknowledgment that he saw it perfectly well.
"Its substitution for the white flag," I continued, "will prove to you that I have friends in the town.... The town is going to rise."
"And then, monsieur?"
"Then, monsieur, I was told that I should find brave patriots in the three keepers of the magazine, who, instead of opposing General Gérard's orders, would assist me in my enterprise. I therefore introduce myself to you with confidence to ask your co-operation in this business."
"You must know, monsieur," the captain said, "that our co-operation is out of the question."
"Well, then, promise you will be neutral."
"What is all this about?" asked a third interlocutor, who appeared on the doorstep with a silk kerchief tied round his head, attired only in a shirt and cotton trousers.
"Colonel," the sergeant said, stepping nearer to his superior officer, "it is a messenger from General Gérard. It seems the Revolution in Paris is accomplished, and that General Gérard is now Minister for War."
I stopped the orator, who continued his advance towards the house.
"Monsieur," I said to him, "instead of going to the colonel, please ask him to come to us. I shall be most happy to pay my addresses to him and to show him General Gérard's order."
"Is it in the general's handwriting, monsieur?" the colonel asked.
"It is signed by himself, monsieur."
"I warn you that I have just been a member of the general's staff, and therefore know his signature."
"I am very pleased to hear it, colonel, as it will, I hope, make my negotiations with you all the easier."
The colonel came towards me, and I handed him the paper, taking advantage of the moment's time thus given me, while the other soldiers collected round him, to get between them and the door of the house. I was, it is true, alone, but the three men I had to deal with were unarmed.
"Well, colonel?" I asked in a minute or two.
"I can say nothing, monsieur, seeing the order is indeed signed by General Gérard."
"On the contrary, colonel," I observed, laughing, "that seems to me a reason why you should say something."
He exchanged a few words with the captain and sergeant.
"What was it you were asking from these gentlemen when I came out?"
"Your neutrality, colonel. I do not presume to use intimidation or to urge you against your conscience. If your opinions incline you towards the movement afoot, hold out your hand to me frankly and give me your word not to oppose my mission; if, on the contrary, you wish to oppose it, make up your minds at once and do what you like to get rid of me, for I mean to do all I can to rid myself of you."
"Monsieur," said the colonel, when he had again held converse with his two comrades, "we are old soldiers, and have faced fire too often to be afraid; we accept the part you offer us, for, unfortunately, or rather, perhaps, fortunately, what you say with regard to our patriotism is true, and if you laid your hand on our hearts, you would feel the effect the sight of the tricolour flag we have been longing for for the past fifteen years has produced upon us.... What, monsieur, is the agreement we are to enter into with you?"
"To go inside your house, and not to come out of it unless you learn that I have been killed or until I shall myself come and release you from your promise."
"I promise on my honour as a soldier for both myself and my comrades!"
I walked up to him and held out my hand. Three hands were held out instead of one; three hands pressed mine with cordiality.
"Come, this is not all," said the colonel. "When one undertakes a task like yours, it should succeed."
"Will you assist me, then, with your advice?"
He smiled.
"Where are you going now?"
"To the commander of the fort, M. de Linières."
"Do you know him?"
"Not in the least."
"Hum!"
"Well?"
"Be on your guard!"
"Still, if I have the order?"
"Well?"
"Then I may count on you?"
"Oh! naturally.... Neutrality has ceased, and we have become your allies."
At that moment three knocks with an equal interval of time between each were given on the door.
"What is that?" asked the colonel.
"One of my friends, colonel, who has come to render me assistance if I should need it." I called out loud—
"Wait a minute, Bard; I will come and open it. I am among friends."
Then, turning towards the soldiers, I said to them—
"Now, gentlemen, will you go into your house?"
"Certainly," they said.
"I may rely on your word?"
"Our word once given is never taken back."
They went in, and I opened the door for Bard.
How matters had proceeded with the sacristan—The four-inch gun—Bard as gunner—The commander of the fort—Lieutenant Tinga—M. de Lenferna—M. Bonvilliers—Madame de Linières—The revolt of the negroes—The conditions upon which the commander of the fort signed the order—M. Moreau—M. Quinette—The Mayor of Soissons—Bard and the green plums
How matters had proceeded with the sacristan—The four-inch gun—Bard as gunner—The commander of the fort—Lieutenant Tinga—M. de Lenferna—M. Bonvilliers—Madame de Linières—The revolt of the negroes—The conditions upon which the commander of the fort signed the order—M. Moreau—M. Quinette—The Mayor of Soissons—Bard and the green plums
Bard was perfectly cool; anyone seeing him with his rifle over his shoulder would have taken him for a sportsman who had been getting his hand in by firing at the target.
"Well," he asked me, "how have things gone here?"
"Splendidly, my dear boy! All is settled."
"Good! then you have the powder?"
"Oh! not yet. Hang it, what a hurry you're in! How about your flag?"
He pointed to the tower.
"You see for yourself," he said. "Doesn't it make a fine picture in the landscape?"
"Yes. How did it all go off?"
"Oh! all went smoothly enough. The sacristan raised a few difficulties just at first, but he ended by giving in to the reasons M. Hutin laid before him."
"What were those?"
"I don't quite know; I was looking at the landscape.... Your valley of Aisne is really magnificent, you know, especially over by Vauxbuin."
"So you heard nothing of what Hutin said to your sacristan?"
"I think he told him he would be killed if he did not keep quiet."
"Where is he now?"
"Who? M. Hutin?"
"Yes."
"He should be where he promised to be, at the doctor's."
"That's capital! You stop here."
"Good! What shall I do?"
"Wait a moment."
Bard's eyes followed me as I made an expressive movement in a certain direction.
"Ah! that pretty little cannon over there!" he exclaimed.
And I walked towards a pretty little four-inch gun—I even think it was, possibly, of smaller bore—under what was, I believe, a model of it, placed beneath the shelter of a sort of shed.
"Isn't that a charming toy?"
"Charming!"
"Then come and help me, my dear fellow."
"How?"
"To put it in position. In case of siege, I must leave you some artillery."
So we harnessed ourselves to the cannon, and I placed it in position about thirty yards from the door. Then I slipped half the contents of my powder-horn into the gun and wadded it with my pocket-handkerchief; on the top of this first wadding I slipped in a score of bullets; then I rammed Bard's handkerchief on the top of these and the cannon was loaded. When loaded, I laid and primed it.
"There!" I said, panting; "now listen to what you must do."
"I await your instructions."
"How many cigarettes can you smoke on end?"
"Oh! as many as I have tobacco to turn them into or money to buy them!"
"Well, then, my friend, smoke without intermission, so that you always have a lighted cigarette on hand: if they try to get inside without your leave and force the gate open, ask them three times to withdraw and if, upon the third request, theystill persist in entering, place yourself where the recoil of the cannon cannot break your legs and then pass your lighted cigarette diagonally across the priming, and you will see how the machine will work!"
"All right!" said Bard, not raising the slightest objection.
I believe, if, whilst he had been on the gallery of the tower, I had said to him, "Bard, jump over!" he would have done it.
"And see here!" I said: "now you have both a rifle and a cannon, my pistols are a superfluous luxury to you, so let me have them."
"Oh! true," he said, "here they are"; and he drew them out of his pocket and returned them to me.
I again examined them and found them in good trim. I slipped them into the two back pockets of my jacket and turned to go to the house of the commander of the fort. A sentinel stood in the street outside, and I asked him where M. de Linières' office was. He pointed it out; it was on the first floor, or entresol. I climbed the staircase, and left my gun outside the door of the office. The commander was alone with an officer whom I did not know. He had just got up on hearing the news that the tricolour flag was floating high over the cathedral. He was probably still unaware of my arrival; for, just as I came in, he was interrogating the officer upon the details of this extraordinary event.
"Pardon, Monsieur le Vicomte," I said to him, "but if all you require is the full details, I can supply you with them, and I may add no one could give you them so well."
"Well, but first of all who are you, monsieur?" the commander asked, looking at me in astonishment.
I have already described my get-up: my cravat was in ribbons, my shirt had been worn for four days, my jacket was bereft of half of its buttons. There was therefore nothing very surprising in the question put by the commander of the fort. I gave my surname, Christian name and profession. I briefly painted the situation in Paris, together with the object of my mission, and I tendered him General Gérard's order. The commanderof the fort, or king's-lieutenant, as he was indifferently called in those days, read it attentively and, handing it back to me, said—
"Monsieur, you must know that I do not recognise the sovereignty of the Provisional Government in the slightest degree. Moreover, General Gérard's signature does not present any sort of authenticity: it is not legal, nor is the document even sealed."
"Monsieur," I replied, "of one thing I am certain: I can triumphantly convince you of its legality and genuineness. I give you my word of honour that the signature is really that of General Gérard."
A half-ironical smile crossed the commander's lips.
"I believe you, monsieur," he said; "but I can tell you news that will render all further discussion useless: there are not at the present moment more than two hundred cartridges of powder in the magazine."
But M. de Linières' smile had somewhat angered me.
"Monsieur," I replied, with equal politeness, "as you do not know exactly the number of cartridges that there are in the magazine, I will go and inquire of the three soldiers there who are my prisoners on parole."
"What! your prisoners on parole?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte: Lieutenant-Colonel d'Orcourt, Captain Mollard and Sergeant Ragon are my prisoners on parole.... So I am going, as I had the honour of mentioning to you just now, to find out for myself what quantity of powder there is in the magazine and then I will return and inform you."
I bowed and went out, looking at the sentry's shako as I did so, which bore the number 53. I was in luck; for, it will be observed, the garrison of Soissons was composed of the depot of the 53rd, and the 53rd, it will be recollected, had turned to the people's side at the very moment the Louvre was being taken. I met an officer in the street.
"Are you M. Dumas?" he said.
"Yes, monsieur."
"Is it you who have placed the tricolour flag on the cathedral?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Then go forward and fear nothing from us: the soldiers were distributing tricolour cartridges among themselves yesterday."
"So I can count upon them?"
"You can rely upon their keeping in their barracks."
"Your name?"
"Lieutenant Tuya."
"Thanks!" And I entered his name in my pocket-book.
"What is that for?" he asked me.
"Who knows?" I replied. "When I return to the Hôtel de Ville I may find a second epaulette going begging.... You would not be angry with me for sending it you?"
He began to laugh, shook his head and made off rapidly. At the same moment, I saw the officer whom I had found closeted with the commander of the fort going faster still. There was no time to be lost; no doubt he was going with orders. I quickened my pace accordingly, and was at the magazine in a trice. I knocked at the door and called out my name.
"Is that you?" Bard asked.
"Yes."
"Good! I will open to you."
"Don't trouble. Ask the officers how much powder, for artillery purposes, there is in the magazine."
"All right!"
I waited, and through the keyhole I could see Bard hurrying to the house. He disappeared, then reappeared after a few minutes.
"Two hundred pounds!" he shouted to me.
"Prodigious! It is always the way.... Now throw me over the key of the door, or slip it under, so that I can come in without disturbing you."
"Here you are."
"Right! Whatever you do, don't quit your post."
"Make your mind easy!"
And upon this assurance I retraced my steps back to the house of the king's-lieutenant. I found the same sentinel at the street door, but there was now a second one at the door of the office. I expected to see him bar my passage, but I was mistaken. As upon the first occasion, I deposited my gun outside the door and then I went in. The company had been increased by two other persons, and, besides the commander of the fort and the unknown officer, there were now in that small office, as I re-entered it, M. le Marquis de Lenferna, Lieutenant of the Police, and M. Bonvilliers, Lieutenant-Colonel of the Engineers. These gentlemen were all arrayed in their respective uniforms, and, consequently, had sabres and swords by their sides. I entered and closed the door behind me. I had hardly come face to face with these four officers before I regretted I had left my rifle outside, for I realised that grave matters would be discussed between us. I felt the lapels of my waistcoat to see that my pistols were still in my pockets. They were there safe and sound.
"Monsieur," the commander said to me in a jeering tone, "I have sent for M. le Marquis de Lenferna and M. Bonvilliers, in your absence, who are my colleagues in the military command in this town, in order that you may lay before them the object of your mission here, as you did to me."
I saw I must assume the same tone of conversation as that used by M. de Linières, so I replied—
"Well, monsieur, the object of my mission is simple enough: it is merely a question of my taking the powder that I have found in the magazine and transporting it to Paris where they are short.... And, in respect of that same powder, allow me to inform you, Commander, that you were wrongly instructed: there are two hundred pounds of powder in the magazine—and not two hundred cartridges."
"Whether two hundred pounds or two hundred cartridges is not the question, monsieur: the question is that you have come to seize powder from a military town containing a garrison of eight hundred men."
"Monsieur does, indeed," I replied, "put the questionon its true footing: I have come to take powder from a garrison town containing eight hundred men, and here is my order for so doing."
I presented General Gérard's order to the king's-lieutenant, who, no doubt because he knew it already, took hold of it with the tips of his fingers and handed it to his neighbour, who handed it back to M. de Linières after he had read it, with a slight inclination of the head.
"You are probably backed by an armed force to carry out the order, in case we refuse to comply with it?"
"No, monsieur; but I have a most determined intention of taking that powder, since I swore to General La Fayette I would either take it or be killed. That is why I asked your leave for the opening of the magazine doors, and I now renew my request."
"And you think that alone, Monsieur Dumas ... I think you told me your name was Dumas?"—
"Yes, monsieur, that is my name."
"—You can force me to sign such an authorisation? You have noticed probably that there are four of us?"
I had noticed still more—the commander's jeering tones and that, from the wording of his sentences, the situation was growing warm; I therefore edged myself gradually back until I was master of the door and, while doing so, I placed my hands inside my coat pockets and silently prepared the double locks of my pistols. I then suddenly drew them from my pockets and pointed the muzzles towards the group in front of me.
"True, there are four of you, messieurs,... but there are five of us!" And I took a step forward and said, "Messieurs, I give you my word of honour that if the order is not signed within the next five seconds I will blow out the brains of all four of you, and I will begin with you, Monsieur le Lieutenant de Roi—honour to whom honour is due!"
I had turned deadly pale, but in spite of my pallor my face expressed immovable determination. The double-barrelled pistol which I held in my right hand was only a foot and a half off M. de Linières' face.
"Beware, monsieur!" I said to him: "I am going to count the seconds"; and after a pause I began, "One, two, three!..."
At this moment a side door opened and a woman burst into the room in a paroxysm of terror.
"Oh! my love, yield! yield!" she cried; "it is a second revolt of the negroes!..
And, saying this, she gazed at me with terrified eyes.
"Monsieur," began the commander of the fort, "out of regard for my wife...."
"Monsieur," I replied, "I have the profoundest respect for Madame, but I too have a mother and a sister and hope, therefore, you will have the goodness to send Madame away, so that we can thrash this matter out between men alone."
"My love!" Madame de Linières continued to implore, "yield! yield! I implore you! Remember my father and mother, both massacred at Saint-Domingo!"
I had not until then understood what she meant by her words, "It is a second revolt of negroes!"
She had taken me for a negro, from my fuzzy hair and complexion, burnt deep brown by three days' exposure to the sun and by my faintly Creole accent—if, indeed, I had any accent at all, from the hoarseness that had seized me. She was beside herself with terror, and her fright was easily understood; for I learnt, later, that she was a daughter of M. and Madame de Saint-Janvier, who had been mercilessly killed under her very eyes during a revolt. The situation was now too strained to be prolonged much further.
"But, monsieur," the commander exclaimed in despair, "how can I yield before one single man?"
"Would you like me, monsieur, to sign a paper attesting that you gave me the order with a pistol at your head?"
"Yes, yes! monsieur," shrieked Madame de Linières.
Then turning to her husband, whose knees she had been clasping, she reiterated, "My love! my love! give him the order! Give it him, I entreat you!"
"Or would you prefer," I continued, "that I went andhunted up two or three friends so that our numbers may be equal on both sides?"
"Indeed yes, monsieur, I should much prefer that course."
"Be on your guard, Monsieur le Vicomte! I go, relying on your word of honour; I go, because I have you at my mercy and could blow out the brains of every one of you.... I can promise you it would soon be done.... Shall I find you on my return where you are and as you are?"
"Yes, yes! monsieur," exclaimed Madame de Linières.
I bowed courteously but without ceding one jot.
"It is your husband's word of honour I require, madame."
"Well, then, monsieur," the king's-lieutenant said, "I will give you my word."
"I presume that it includes these gentlemen equally?"
The officers bowed in the affirmative. I uncocked my pistols and replaced them in my pockets. Then, addressing myself to Madame de Linières—
"Reassure yourself, madame," I said; "it is over. In five minutes, gentlemen, I shall be back here."
I went out, picking up my gun, which I found in its corner outside the door. I had gone beyond my resources, for I did not know where to look for Hutin; and Bard was guarding an important point. But chance served me; for, as I stepped into the street, I saw Hutin and one of his friends, who, faithful to their rendezvous, were waiting ten yards away from the house: the friend was a young man called Moreau, a warm patriot of Soissons. They both had double-barrelled guns. I beckoned to them to come into the courtyard. They came in, not knowing quite what was expected of them. I went upstairs; parole had been strictly maintained and none of the gentlemen had left his place. I went to the window and opened it.
"Messieurs," I said to Hutin and Moreau, "have the goodness to inform Monsieur the Commander that you are ready to fire upon him and upon the other persons I shall point out to you, if he does not instantly sign an authorisation for taking the powder."
For answer, Hutin and Moreau cocked their guns. Madame de Linières followed all my movements and those of her husband with haggard eyes.
"That will do, monsieur," the king's-lieutenant said; "I am ready to sign"; and, taking a piece of paper from his desk, he wrote—
"I authorise M. Alexandre Dumas to take away all the powder belonging to the artillery which is in the magazine Saint-Jean.—King's-lieutenant and Commander of the Fort,VICOMTE DE LINIÈRES"SOISSONS, 31July1830"
"I authorise M. Alexandre Dumas to take away all the powder belonging to the artillery which is in the magazine Saint-Jean.—King's-lieutenant and Commander of the Fort,
VICOMTE DE LINIÈRES"
SOISSONS, 31July1830"
I took the paper which the count handed me, bowed to Madame de Linières, made my apologies to her for the unavoidable fright I had caused her and went out.[1]
We met M. Quinette, the second friend whom Hutin had mentioned to me, in the street. He had come to join us. It was rather late, as will be seen, especially since he was soon to leave us. His advice was that we ought to do things legally and that, to this end, I must be assisted by the mayor. I had no objection to this proposition, as I had possession of my order, so I went to find the mayor. I have forgotten the name of that worthy magistrate: I only remember that he made no difficulty about accompanying me. Accordingly, five minutes later, accompanied by the mayor, Hutin, Moreau and Quinette, I cautiously opened the gate of the Saint-Jean cloisters, first having notified to Bard that it was I who was opening it.
"Come in, come in!" he replied.
I entered and saw the cannon in position, but, to my great astonishment, Bard had disappeared. He was twenty yards from his cannon, perched up in a plum tree eating green plums!