[1]TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.—Applied to a duellist who always kills or wounds his opponent.
[1]TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.—Applied to a duellist who always kills or wounds his opponent.
Odilon Barrot, Préfet of the Seine—His soirées—His proclamation upon the subject of riots—Dupont (de l'Eure) and Louis-Philippe—Resignation of the ministry of Molé and Guizot—The affair of the forest of Breteuil—The Laffitte ministry—The prudent way in which registration was carried out
Odilon Barrot, Préfet of the Seine—His soirées—His proclamation upon the subject of riots—Dupont (de l'Eure) and Louis-Philippe—Resignation of the ministry of Molé and Guizot—The affair of the forest of Breteuil—The Laffitte ministry—The prudent way in which registration was carried out
Now, the session of the Chamber had been an animated one that day, and if we had burst into the parliament hall we should have found the deputies in heated discussion over a proclamation issued by Odilon Barrot.
It was a singular position for a man, outwardly so upright and unbending as was Odilon Barrot, which was created by, on the one hand, his duties as Préfet of the Seine about the person of the king and, on the other, the good terms of friendship existing between him and most of us. He held soirées at his house, to which we flocked in large numbers; at which his wife, then still quite young, who seemed a more ardent Republican than her husband, did the honours with the correctness of a Cornelia that was not without a charm of its own. We of course discussed nothing but politics at these gatherings; and especially did we urge Odilon Barrot, in his official capacity as Préfet of the Seine, to hunt for the famous programme of the Hôtel de Ville, which had disappeared on 2 August, and had become more invisible even than the famous provisional government which was represented by a round table, empty bottles and a clerk who never stopped writing except when the pen was snatched out of his hands. That programme had never been discovered from that day to this! Our suggestion worried him much, for our insistence placed him in the following dilemma:—
"My dear Odilon" (we would say), "all the strength of the Government is vested in La Fayette and Dupont (de l'Eure) and yourself; if you, for instance, were to withdraw, we are persuaded that La Fayette and Dupont, the two blind men whom you, good dog, lead by the string, will also retire.... So we are going to compel you to retire."
"But how?"
"Oh, it is simple enough! We are going to raise a disturbance to carry off the king from the Palais-Royal.... Either you fire upon us, in which case you make yourself unpopular; or you abstain from firing on us, in which case we carry off the king, take him to Ham and proclaim the Republic."
Odilon was well aware that this dilemma was only a joke; but he also knew that there was a feverish spirit in us which any unlooked for spark might kindle into a blaze and lead to the maddest enterprises being attempted.
One day we drove him into a corner, and he promised that, on the first opportunity, he would make his views known both to the court and to us. This opportunity was the procession which, as I have mentioned, marched through Paris, and proceeded to the Palais-Royal, and to the château de Vincennes, shouting, "Death to the ministers!" It will be recollected that the king and Odilon Barrot had appeared upon the terrace, and that the men who led the procession had thereupon shouted, "Vive Odilon Barrot!" forgetting to shout "Vive le roi!" Whereat Louis-Philippe, as we know, had replied: "These are the sons of the men whom, in 1792, I heard shouting: 'Vive Pétion!'"
The allusion had annoyed Odilon Barrot considerably, and he decided to issue a proclamation of his own. He promised to give us this explicit proclamation.
It is a mania with every man who wants to be looked upon as a statesman to produce a proclamation, in fact he does not consider himself entitled to the name of statesman until he has. His proclamation is issued and received by the people, who read it and see in it the sanction of some power or other, which they either obey or disobey according to their individualviews of politics. Unfortunately, this proclamation, upon which Odilon was counting greatly, demonstrated the fact that the Préfet of the Seine took a middle course, which offended at the same time both the Court party and the Republicans. We will reproduce it here in its entirety. Be it understood that our readers are free to read only the sentences in italics, or to pass it over altogether unread—
"Citizens, your magistrates are deeply distressed at the disorders which have recently been disturbing the public peace, at a time when commerce and industry, which are in much need of protection, are beginning to rise above a long crisis of depression."It is not vengeance that this people of Paris, who are the bravest and most generous in the world, are demanding, but justice!Justice, in fact, is a right, a necessity, to strong men; vengeance is but the delight of the weak and cowardly.The proposition of the Chamber is anINOPPORTUNE STEPcalculated to make the people imagine that there is a concerted design to interfere with the ordinary course of justice with respect to the ex-ministers.Delays have arisen, which are merely the carrying out of those forms which surround justice with greater solemnity of character; and these delays but sanction and strengthen the opinionof which our ungovernable enemies, ever lying in wait to disunite us, persistently take advantage. Hence has arisen that popular agitation, which men of rectitude and good citizens regard as an actual mistake. I swear to you in all good faith, fellow-citizens, that the course of justice has neither been suspended, nor interrupted, nor will it be. The preparation of the accusation brought against the ex-ministers still continues:they have come under the law and the law alone shall decide their fate."No good citizen could wish or demand anything else; and yet cries of "death" are uttered in the streets and public places; but what are such instigations, such placards, but violent measures against justice? We merely desire to do as we would ourselves be done by, namely, be judged dispassionately and impartially. Well, there are certain misguided or malevolent persons who threaten the judges before the trial has begun. People of Paris, you will not stand by such violent conduct; the accused should be sacred in your eyes; they are placed under the protection of the law; to insult them,to hinder their defence, to anticipate the decrees of justice, is to violate the laws of every civilised society; it is to be wanting in the first principles of liberty; it is worse than a crime; it is cowardly! There is not a single citizen among this great and glorious people who cannot but feel that it is his honoured duty to prevent an outrage that will be a blot upon our Revolution. Let justice be done! But violence is not justice. And this is the cry of all well-meaning people, and will be the principle guiding the conduct of our magistrates. Under these grave circumstances they will count upon the concurrence and the assistance of all true patriots to uphold the measures that are taken to bring about public order."
"Citizens, your magistrates are deeply distressed at the disorders which have recently been disturbing the public peace, at a time when commerce and industry, which are in much need of protection, are beginning to rise above a long crisis of depression.
"It is not vengeance that this people of Paris, who are the bravest and most generous in the world, are demanding, but justice!Justice, in fact, is a right, a necessity, to strong men; vengeance is but the delight of the weak and cowardly.The proposition of the Chamber is anINOPPORTUNE STEPcalculated to make the people imagine that there is a concerted design to interfere with the ordinary course of justice with respect to the ex-ministers.Delays have arisen, which are merely the carrying out of those forms which surround justice with greater solemnity of character; and these delays but sanction and strengthen the opinionof which our ungovernable enemies, ever lying in wait to disunite us, persistently take advantage. Hence has arisen that popular agitation, which men of rectitude and good citizens regard as an actual mistake. I swear to you in all good faith, fellow-citizens, that the course of justice has neither been suspended, nor interrupted, nor will it be. The preparation of the accusation brought against the ex-ministers still continues:they have come under the law and the law alone shall decide their fate.
"No good citizen could wish or demand anything else; and yet cries of "death" are uttered in the streets and public places; but what are such instigations, such placards, but violent measures against justice? We merely desire to do as we would ourselves be done by, namely, be judged dispassionately and impartially. Well, there are certain misguided or malevolent persons who threaten the judges before the trial has begun. People of Paris, you will not stand by such violent conduct; the accused should be sacred in your eyes; they are placed under the protection of the law; to insult them,to hinder their defence, to anticipate the decrees of justice, is to violate the laws of every civilised society; it is to be wanting in the first principles of liberty; it is worse than a crime; it is cowardly! There is not a single citizen among this great and glorious people who cannot but feel that it is his honoured duty to prevent an outrage that will be a blot upon our Revolution. Let justice be done! But violence is not justice. And this is the cry of all well-meaning people, and will be the principle guiding the conduct of our magistrates. Under these grave circumstances they will count upon the concurrence and the assistance of all true patriots to uphold the measures that are taken to bring about public order."
This proclamation is, perhaps, a little too lengthy and diffuse and tedious; but we should remember that Odilon Barrot was a barrister before he became Préfet of the Seine. However, in the midst of this ocean of words, a flood of language by which the préfet had, perhaps, hoped that the king would be mystified, His Majesty noted this sentence—"The proposal of the Chamber was an inopportune step leading people to suppose it was a concerted thing...." And the Republicans caught hold of this one—"Our ungovernable enemies, ever on the watch to disunite us," etc.
The step that the Préfet of the Seine blamed was the king's own secret wish, interpreted by the address of the Chamber; so that, by finding fault with the address of the Chamber, the Préfet of the Seine allowed himself to blame the secret wish of the king.
From that moment, the fall of the Préfet of the Seine was decided upon. How could Louis-Philippe, with his plans for reigning and governing at the same time, keep a man in his service who dared to find fault with his own secret wishes? It was useless for M. Odilon Barrot to try to deceive himself; from that hour dates the king's dislike to him: it was that proclamation of 1830, which postponed his three hours' ministry to 1848. Then, on the other hand, he broke with the Republican party because he spoke of them as hisungovernable enemies.
The same night, or the day after the appearance of thisproclamation, Godefroy Cavaignac cast Odilon Barrot's horoscope in these pregnant words—
"My dear friend, you are played out!"
This is what really passed at the Palais-Royal. The king was furious with the audacity of thepettifogging little lawyer.Thelittle lawyer, however, was to take his revenge for this epithet two years later, by annulling the sentence on the young artist Geoffroy, who had been illegally condemned to death by the court-martial that had been instituted on account of the state of siege at the time. It was a splendid and noble method of being revenged, which won back for Odilon ten years popularity! So his fall was decided at the Palais-Royal. But it was not a matter that was very painful to the ministry which was in power in November 1830; this was composed only of M. Molé, a deserter from the Napoléonic camp; of M. de Broglie, a deserter from the Royalist camp; of M. Guizot, the man of theMoniteur de Gand; M. Casimir Périer, the bankerwhose bank closed at four o'clock, and who, up to the last, had struggled against the Revolution; M. Sébastiani, who, on the 30th, had announced that the white flag was his standard; and finally, General Gérard, the last minister of Charles X., who, to keep in power, had only had to get the Ordinance, which the flight of the Elder Branch left blank, signed by the Younger Branch. It will be understood that none of these men had the least personal attachment to Odilon Barrot. So, when the king proposed the dismissal of the Préfet of the Seine, they all unanimously exclaimed, "Just as you wish, seigneur!" Only one voice cried, "Veto!" that of Dupont (de l'Eure). Now, Dupont had this one grand fault in the eyes of politicians (and the king was the foremost politician of his day), he persisted in sticking both to his own opinions and to his friends.
"If Odilon Barrot goes, I also depart!" said the honest old man flatly.
This was a more serious matter, for if the withdrawal of Odilon Barrot involved that of Dupont (de l'Eure), the withdrawal of Dupont would also mean that of La Fayette with him. Now, La Fayette's resignation might very well, in theend, involve that of the king himself. It would, moreover, cause ill-feeling between the king and Laffitte, who was another staunch friend of Odilon Barrot. True, the king was not disinclined for a rupture with Laffitte: there are certain services so great that they can only be repaid by ingratitude; but the king only wished to quarrel with Laffitte in his own time and at his own convenience, when such a course would be expedient and not prejudicial. The grave question was referred to a consensus of opinion for solution.
M. Sébastiani won the honours of the sitting by his suggestion of himself making a personal application to M. Odilon Barrot to obtain his voluntary resignation. Of course, Dupont (de l'Eure) was not present at this secret confabulation. They settled to hold another council that night. The king was late, contrary to his custom. As he entered the cabinet, he did not perceive Dupont (de l'Eure) talking in a corner of the room with M. Bignon.
"Victory, messieurs!" he exclaimed, in an exulting voice; "the resignation of the Préfet of the Seine is settled, and General La Fayette, realising the necessity for the resignation, himself consented to it."
"What did you say, sire?" said Dupont (de l'Eure) hastily, coming out of the darkness into the circle of light which revealed his presence to the king.
"Oh! you are there, are you, Monsieur Dupont," said the king, rather embarrassed. "Well, I was saying that General La Fayette has ceased to oppose the resignation of M. Barrot."
"Sire," replied Dupont, "the statement your Majesty has done me the honour to make is quite impossible of belief."
"I had it from the general's own lips, monsieur," replied the king.
"Your majesty must permit me to believe he is labouring under a mistake," insisted Dupont, with a bow; "for the general told me the very reverse, and I cannot believe him capable of contradicting himself in this matter."
A flash of anger crossed the king's face; yet he restrained himself.
"However," continued Dupont, "I will speak for myself alone ... If M. Odilon Barrot retires, I renew my request to the king to be good enough to accept my resignation."
"But, monsieur," said the king hastily, "you promised me this very morning, that whatever happened, you would remain until after the trial of the ministers."
"Yes, true, sire, but only on condition that M. Barrot remained too."
"Without any conditions, monsieur."
It was now Dupont's turn to flush red.
"I must this time, sire," he said, "with the strength of conviction, positively assert that the king is in error."
"What! monsieur," exclaimed the king, "you give me the lie to my face? Oh! this is really too much! And everybody shall hear how you have been lacking in respect to me."
"Take care, sire," replied the chancellor coldly; "when the king saysyesand Dupont (de l'Eure) saysno, I am not sure which of the two France will believe."
Then, bowing to the king, he proceeded to the door of exit.
But on the threshold the unbending old man met the Duc d'Orléans, who was young and smiling and friendly; he took him by both hands and would not let him go further.
"Father," said the duke to the king, "there has surely been some misunderstanding ... M. Dupont is so strictly honourable that he could not possibly take any other course."
The king was well aware of the mistake he had just made, and held out his hand to his minister; the Duc d'Orléans pushed him into the king's open arms, and the king and his minister embraced. Probably nothing was forgotten on either side, but the compact was sealed.
Odilon Barrot was to remain Préfet of the Seine, and, consequently, Dupont (de l'Eure) was to remain chancellor, and La Fayette, consequently, would remain generalissimo of the National Guard throughout the kingdom.
But we shall see how these three faithful friends were politelydismissed when the king had no further need of them. It will, however, readily be understood that all this was but a temporary patching up, without any real stability underneath. M. Dupont (de l'Eure) consented to remain with MM. de Broglie, Guizot, Molé and Casimir Périer, but these gentlemen had no intention whatever of remaining in office with him. Consequently, they sent in their resignation, which involved those of MM. Dupin and Bignon, ministers who held no offices of state.
The king was placed in a most embarrassing quandary, and had recourse to M. Laffitte. M. Laffitte urged the harm that it would do his banking house, and the daily work he would be obliged to give to public affairs, if he accepted a position in the Government, and he confided to the king the worry which the consequences of the July Revolution had already caused him in his business affairs. The king offered him every kind of inducement. But, with extreme delicacy of feeling, M. Laffitte would not hear of accepting anything from the king, unless the latter felt inclined to buy the forest of Breteuil at a valuation. The only condition M. Laffitte made to this sale was that it should be by private deed and not publicly registered, as registration would naturally reveal the fact of the sale and the seller's difficulties. They exchanged mutual promises, and the forest of Breteuil was valued at, and sold for, eight millions, I believe, and the private deeds of sale and purchase were executed and signed upon this basis.
M. Laffitte's credit thus made secure, he consented to accept both the office of Minister for Finance and the Presidency of the Cabinet Council.
TheMoniteurpublished, on 2 November, the list of newly elected ministers. They were—MM. Laffitte, for Finance and President of the Council; Dupont (de l'Eure), Minister of Justice; Gérard, for War; Sébastiani, at the Admiralty; Maison, for Foreign Affairs; Montalivet, at the Home Office; Mérilhou, for Education.
The king, therefore, had attained his end;the doctrinaires(as they were nicknamed, probably because they had no realpolitical principles) had done him great service by their resignation, and given him the opportunity of forming a ministry entirely devoted to him. In the new coalition, Louis-Philippe ranked Laffitte ashis friend, Sébastiani and Montalivet, as his devoted servants; Gérard and Maison, his subservient followers; while Mérilhou fell an easy prey to his influence. There was only Dupont (de l'Eure) left, and he took his cue from La Fayette.
Now, do not let us lose sight of the fact that this ministry might be calledthe Trial Ministry (ministère du procès), and that La Fayette, who had been proscribed by M. de Polignac, wanted to take a noble revenge upon him by saving his life. His speech in the Chamber did not leave the slightest doubt of his intentions.
On 4 October, the Chamber of Peers constituted itself a Court of Justice, ordered the removal of the ex-ministers to the prison of the petit Luxembourg and fixed 15 December for the opening of the trial. But between 4 October and 15 December (that is to say, between the constitution of the Court of Peers and the opening of the trial) M. Laffitte received the following curt note from Louis-Philippe:—
"MY DEAR MONSIEUR LAFFITTE,—After what has been told me by a mutual friend, of whom I need not say anything further, you know quite well why I have availed myself, at M. Jamet's[1]urgent instigation, to whom the secret of the purchase was entrusted by yourself and not by me, of taking the opportunity of having the private deed of sale registered, as secretly as possible.—Yours affectionately,LOUIS-PHILIPPE."
"MY DEAR MONSIEUR LAFFITTE,—After what has been told me by a mutual friend, of whom I need not say anything further, you know quite well why I have availed myself, at M. Jamet's[1]urgent instigation, to whom the secret of the purchase was entrusted by yourself and not by me, of taking the opportunity of having the private deed of sale registered, as secretly as possible.—Yours affectionately,
LOUIS-PHILIPPE."
M. Laffitte was stunned by the blow; he did not place any belief in the secrecy of the registration; and he was right. The sale became known, and M. Laffitte's downfall dated from that moment. But the deed of sale bore a special date! M. Laffitte took up his pen to send in his resignation, and this involved that of Dupont (de l'Eure), La Fayette and Odilon Barrot. He reflected that Louis-Philippe would be disarmedin face of a future political upheaval. But the revenge appeared too cruel a one to the famous banker, who now acted the part of king, while the real king played that of financier. Nevertheless, the wound rankled none the less deeply in his heart.
[1]M. Jamet was the king's private book-keeper.
[1]M. Jamet was the king's private book-keeper.
Béranger as Patriot and Republican
When Laffitte became minister, he wanted to bear with him up to the political heights he was himself compelled to ascend, a man who, as we have said, had perhaps contributed more to the accession of Louis-Philippe even than had the celebrated banker himself. That man was Béranger. But Béranger, with his clear-sighted common sense, realised that, for him as well as for Laffitte, apparent promotion really meant ultimate downfall. He therefore let all his friends venture on that bridge of Mahomet, as narrow as a thread of flax, called power; but shook his head and took farewell of them in the following verses:—
"Non, mes amis, non, je ne veux rien être;Semez ailleurs places, titres et croix.Non, pour les cours Dieu ne m'a point fait naître:Oiseau craintif, je fuis la glu des rois!Que me faut-il? Maîtresse à fine taille,Que me faut-il? Maîtresse à fine taille,Petit repas et joyeux entretien!De mon berceau près de bénir la paille,En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!'Un sort brillant serait chose importunePour moi rimeur, qui vis de temps perdu.N'est-il tombé, des miettes de fortune,Tout has, j'ai dit: 'Ce pain ne m'est pas dû.Quel artisan, pauvre, hélas! quoi qu'il fasse,N'a plus que moi droit à ce peu de bien?Sans trop rougir, fouillons dans ma besace.En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!'Sachez pourtant, pilotes du royaume,Combien j'admire un homme de vertuQui, désertant son hôtel ou son chaume,Monte au vaisseau par tous les vents battu,De loin, ma vois lui crie: 'Heureux voyage!'Priant de cœur pour tout grand citoyen;Mais, au soleil, je m'endors sur la plageEn me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!'Votre tombeau sera pompeux sans doute;J'aurai, sous l'herbe, une fosse à l'écart.Un peuple en deuil vous fait cortège en route;Du pauvre, moi, j'attends le corbillard.En vain l'on court ou votre étoile tombe;Qu'importe alors votre gîte ou le mien?La différence est toujours une tombe.En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!'De ce palais souffrez donc que je sorte,À vos grandeurs je devais un salut;Amis, adieu! j'ai, derrière la porte,Laissé tantôt mes sabots et mon luth.Sous ces lambris, près de vous accourue,La Liberté s'offre à vous pour soutien ...Je vais chanter ses bienfaits dans la rue.En me créant, Dieu m'a dit: 'Ne sois rien!'"
So Béranger retired, leaving his friends more deeply entangled in the web of power than was La Fontaine's raven in the sheep's wool. Even when he is sentimental, Béranger finds it difficult not to insert a touch of mischief in his poetry, and, perhaps, while he is singing in the street the blessings of liberty, he is laughing in his sleeve; exemplifying that disheartening maxim of La Rochefoucauld, that there is always something even in the very misfortunes of our best friends which gives us pleasure. Yet how many times did the philosophic singer acclaim in his heart the Government he had founded. We sayin his heart, for whether distrustful of the stability of human institutions, or whether he deemed it a good thing to set up kings, but a bad one to sing their praises in poetry, Béranger never, thank goodness! consecrated by a single line of praisein verse the sovereignty of July which he had lauded in his speech.
Now let us take stock of the length of time his admiration of, and sympathy with, the royal cause lasted. It was not for long! In six months all was over; and the poet had taken the measure of the king: the king was only fit to be put away with Villon's old moons. If my reader disputes this assertion let him listen to Béranger's own words. The man who, on 31 July, had flunga plank across the stream, as thepetits Savoyardsdo, is the first to try to push it off into the water: it is through no fault of his if it do not fall in and drag the king with it.
"Oui, chanson, muse, ma fille,J'ai déclaré netQu'avec Charle et sa famille,On le détrônait;Mais chaque loi qu'on nous donneTe rappelle ici:Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Je croyais qu'on allait faireDu grand et du neuf,Même étendre un peu la sphèreDe quatre-vingt-neuf;Mais point: on rebadigeonneUn troûe noirci!Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Depuis les jours de décembre,[1]Vois, pour se grandir,La chambre vanter la chambre,La chambre applaudir!À se prouver qu'elle est bonne,Elle a réussi ...Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Basse-cour des ministèresQu'en France on honnit,Nos chapons héréditaires,Sauveront leur nid;Les petits que Dieu leur donneY pondront aussi ...Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!La planète doctrinaireQui sur Gand brillaitVent servir la luminaireAux gens de juillet:Fi d'un froid soleil d'automneDe brume obscurci!Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Nos ministres, qu'on peut mettreTous au même point,[2]Voudraient que la baromètreNe variât point:Pour peu que là-bas il tonne,On se signe ici ...Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Pour être en état de grâceQue de grands peureuxOnt soin de laisser en placeLes hommes véreux!Si l'on ne touche à personne,C'est afin que si ...Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Te voilà donc restaurée,Chanson mes amours!Tricolore et sans livrée,Montre-toi toujours!Ne crains plus qu'on l'emprisonne,Du moins à Poissy ...Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!Mais, pourtant, laisse en jachèreMon sol fatigué;Mes jeunes rivaux, ma chère,Ont un ciel si gai!Chez eux la rose foisonne,Chez moi le souci.Chanson, reprends ta couronne!—Messieurs, grand merci!"
These verses were nothing short of a declaration of war, but they escaped unnoticed, and those poets who talked of them seemed to talk of them as of something fallen from the moon, or some aerolite that nobody had picked up.
A song of Béranger? What was it but a song by him? The public had not read this particular one, though it was aware of the existence of a poet of that name who had writtenLe Dieu des bonnes gens, L'Ange Gardien, Le Cinq mai, Les Deux Cousins, Le Ventru, all songs that more or less attacked Louis XVIII. and Charles X.; but they did not recognise a poet of the name of Béranger who allowed himself to go so far as to attack Louis-Philippe. Why this ignorance of the new Béranger? Why this deafness as to his new song? We will explain.
There comes a reactionary period after every political change, during which material interests prevail over national, and shameful appetites over noble passions; during such a period,—as Louis-Philippe's reign, for example—that government is in favour which fosters these selfish interests and surfeits ignoble passions. The acts of such a government, no matter how outrageously illegal and tyrannical and immoral, are looked upon as saving graces! They praise and approve them, and make as much noise at the footstool of power, as the priests of Cybele, who clashed their cymbals round Jupiter's cradle. Throughout such a period as this, the only thing the massesfear, who, living by such a reaction, have every interest in upholding it, is, lest daylight break on the scene of Pandemonium, and light shine into the sink where speculators and moneymakers and coiners of crowns and paper money jostle, and crowd and hustle one another amid that jingling of money which denotes the work they are engaged in. Whether such a state of things lasts long or only briefly, we repeat that, while it endures until an honest, pure and elevated national spirit gets the upper hand, nothing can be done or said or hoped for; everything else is cried up and approved and extolled beforehand! It is as though that fine popular spirit which inspires nations from time to time to attempt great deeds has vanished, has gone up to the skies, or one knows not where. Weaker spirits despair of ever seeing it come back, and nobler minds alone, who share its essence, know that it ever lives, as they possess a spark of that divine soul, believed to be extinct, and they wait with smiling lips and calm brow. Then, gradually, they witness this political phenomenon. Without apparent cause, or deviation from the road it had taken, perhaps for the very reason that it is still pursuing it, such a type of government, which cannot lose the reputation it has never had, loses the factitious popularity it once possessed; its very supporters, who have made their fortunes out of it, whose co-operation it has rewarded, gradually fall away from it, and, without disowning it altogether, already begin to question its stability. From this very moment, such a government is condemned; and, just as they used to approve of its evil deeds, they criticise its good actions. Corruption is the very marrow of its bones and runs through it from beginning to end and dries up the deadly sap which had made it spread over a whole nation, branches like those of the upas tree, and shade like that of the manchineel. Into this atmosphere, which, for five, ten, fifteen, twenty years, has been full of an impure element that has been inhaled together with other elements of the air, there comes something antagonistic to it, something not immediately recognised. This is the returning spirit of social probity, entering the politicalconscience; it is the soul of the nation, in a word, that was thought to have fainted, risen to the sky, gone, no one knew where, which comes back to reanimate the vast democratic masses, which it had abandoned to a lethargy that surrounding nations, jealous and inimical, had been all too eager to proclaim as the sleep of death! At such a crisis the government, by the mere returning of the masses to honesty, seems like a ship that has lost its direction, which staggers and wavers and knows not where it is going! It has withstood fifteen years of tempests and storms and now it founders in a squall. It had become stronger by 5 and 6 June, on 13 and 14 April and 15 May, but falls before 24 February.
Such a government or rather governments show signs of their decline when men of heart and understanding refuse to rally to their help, or when those who had done so by mistake quit it from disgust. It does not follow that these desertions bring about an immediate fall—it may not be for years after, but it is a certain sign that they will fall some day, alone, or by their own act, and the public conscience, at this stage of their decline, needs but to give it a slight push to complete the ruin!
Now Béranger, with his fine instinct of right and wrong, of good and evil, knew all this; not in the self-saving spirit of the rat which leaves the ship where it has fattened, when it is about to sail. As we have seen, he would receive nothing at the hands of the Government or from the friends who formed its crew; but, like the swift, white sea-bird, which skims the crests of the rising waves, he warned the sailors of coming storms. From this very moment, Béranger decides that royalty in France is condemned, since this same royalty, which he has kneaded with his own hands, with the democratic element of a Jacobin prince in 1791, a commandant of the National Guard, a Republican in 1789 and a popular Government in 1830, is turning to a middle-class aristocracy, the last of the aristocracies, because it is the most selfish and the most narrow-minded,—and he dreams of a Republic!
But how was he to attack this popular king, this king of thebourgeois classes and of material interests, the king who had saved society? (Every form of government in France as it arose has made that claim!) The king was invulnerable; the Revolution of '89, which was looked upon as his mother, but was only his nurse, had dipped him in the furnace of the Three Days, as Thetis dipped her son Achilles in the river Styx; but he, too, had his weak spot like Homer's hero.
Is it the head? Is it the heel? Is it the heart? The poet, who will not lose his time in manufacturing gunpowder, which might easily be blown away, before it was used, will look for this weak spot, and, never fear, he will find it.
[1]We shall talk about these directly, but, desiring to dedicate a chapter or two now to Béranger, who, as poet and politician, took a great part in the Revolution of July, we are obliged to take a step in advance.
[1]We shall talk about these directly, but, desiring to dedicate a chapter or two now to Béranger, who, as poet and politician, took a great part in the Revolution of July, we are obliged to take a step in advance.
[2]What would have become of Béranger if he had followed the power of the ministers who could be put all on the same level? For notice that the ministers he speaks of here are his friends, who did not send in their resignation till 13 March.
[2]What would have become of Béranger if he had followed the power of the ministers who could be put all on the same level? For notice that the ministers he speaks of here are his friends, who did not send in their resignation till 13 March.
Béranger, as Republican
This vulnerable spot was the Republican feeling, ever alert in France, whether it be disguised under the names of Liberalism, Progress or Democracy. Béranger discovered it, for, just when he was going to bid farewell to poetry, he once more took up his song; like the warrior who, in despair, had flung down his arms, he resumed them; but he has changed his aim and will slay with principles rather than bullets, he will no longer try to pierce the velvet of an ancient throne, but he will set up a new statue of marble upon a brazen altar! That statue shall be the figure of the Republic. He who was of the advanced school under the Elder Branch, hangs back under the Younger. But what matters it! He will accomplish his task and, though it stand alone, it will be none the less powerful. Listen to him: behold him at his moulding: like Benvenuto Cellini, he flings the lead of his old cartridges into the smelting-pot: he will throw in his bronze and even the two silver dinner-services which he brings out of an old walnut chest on grand occasions when he dines with Lisette, and which he has once or twice lent to Frétillon to put in pawn. While he works, he discovers that those whom he fought in 1830 were in the right, and that it was he himself who was wrong; he had looked upon them asmadmen, now he makes his frank apologies to them in this song—
"Vieux soldats de plomb que nous sommes,Au cordeau nous alignant tous,Si des rangs sortant quelques hommes,Tous, nous crions: 'À bas les fous!'On les persécute, on les tue,Sauf, après un lent examen,À leur dresser une statuePour la gloire du genre humain!Combien de tempo une pensée.Vierge obscure, attend son époux!Les sots la traitent d'insensée,Le sage lui dit: 'Cachez-vous!'Mais, la rencontrant loin du monde,Un fou qui croit au lendemainL'épouse; elle devient féconde,Pour le bonheur du genre humain!J'ai vu Saint-Simon, le prophète,Riche d'abord, puis endetté,Qui, des fondements jusqu'au faite,Refaisait la société.Plein de son œuvre commencée,Vieux, pour elle il tendais la main,Sur qu'il embrassait la penséeQui doit sauver le genre humain!Fourier nous dit: 'Sors de la fange,Peuple en proie aux déceptions!Travaille, groupé par phalange,Dans un cercle d'attractions.La terre, après tant de désastres,Forme avec le ciel un hymen,Et la loi qui régit les astresDonne la paix au genre humain!'Enfantin affranchit la femme,L'appelle à partager nos droits.'Fi! dites-vous, sous l'épigrammeCes fous rêveurs tombent tous trois!'Messieurs, lorsqu'en vain notre sphèreDu bonheur cherche le chemin,Honneur au fou qui ferait faireUn rêve heureux au genre humain!Qui découvrit un nouveau monde?Un fou qu'on raillait en tout lieu!Sur la croix, que son sang inonde,Un fou qui meurt nous lègue un Dieu!Si, demain, oubliant d'élcore,Le jour manquait, eh bien! demain,Quelque fou trouverait encoreUn flambeau pour le genre humain!"
You have read this song. What wonderful sense and rhythm of thought and poetry these lines contain! You say you didn't know it? Really? and yet you knew all those which, under Charles X., attacked the throne or the altar.Le Sacre de Charles le Simple,andL'Ange Gardien.How is it that you never knew this one? Because Béranger, instead of being a tin soldier drawn up to defend public order, as stock-jobbers and the bourgeois and grocers understand things, was looked upon as one of those fanatics who leave the ranks in pursuit of mad ideas, which they take unto themselves in marriage and perforce therefrom bring forth offspring! Only, Béranger was no longer in sympathy with public thought; the people do not pick up the arrows he shoots, in order to hurl them back at the throne; his poems, which were published in 1825, and again in 1829, and then sold to the extent of thirty thousand copies, are, in 1833, only sold to some fifteen hundred. But what matters it to him, the bird of the desert, who sings for the love of singing, because the good God, who loves to hear him, who prefers his poetry to that ofmissionaries, Jesuits and of those jet-black-dwarfswhom he nourishes, and who hates the smoke of their censers, has said to him, "Sing, poor little bird, sing!" So he goes on singing at every opportunity.
When Escousse and Lebras died, he sang a melancholy song steeped in doubt and disillusionment; he could not see his way in the chaos of society. He only felt that the earth was moving like an ocean; that the outlook was stormy; that the world was in darkness, and that the vessel calledFrancewas drifting further and further towards destruction. Listen. Was there ever a more melancholy song than this? It is like the wild seas that break upon coasts bristling with rocks and covered with heather, like the bays of Morlaix and the cliffs of Douarnenez.
"Quoi! morts tous deux dans cette chambre closeOù du charbon pèse encor la vapeur!Leur vie, hélas! était à peine éclose;Suicide affreux! triste objet de stupeur!Ils auront dit: 'Le monde fait naufrage;Voyez pâlir pilote et matelots!Vieux bâtiment usé par tous les flots,Il s'engloutit, sauvons-nous à la nage!'Et, vers le ciel se frayant un chemin,Ils sont partis en se donnant la main!. . . . . . . . . .Pauvres enfants! quelle douleur amèreN'apaisent pas de saints devoirs remplis?Dans la patrie on retrouve une mère,Et son drapeau vous couvre de ses plis!Ils répondaient: 'Ce drapeau, qu'on escorte,Au toit du chef le protège endormi;Mais le soldat, teint du sang ennemi,Veille, et de faim meurt en gardant la porte!'Et, vers le ciel se frayant un chemin,Ils sont partis en se donnant la main!. . . . . . . . . .Dieu créateur, pardonne à leur démence!Ils s'étaient fait les échos de leurs sous,Ne sachant pas qu'en une chaîne immense,Non pour nous seuls, mais pour tous nous naissons.L'humanité manque de saints apôtresQui leur aient dit: 'Enfants, suivez ma loi!Aimer, aimer, c'est être utile à soi!Se faire aimer, c'est être utile aux autres!'Et, vers le ciel se frayant un chemin,Ils sont partis en se donnant la main!"
At what a moment,—consider it!—did Béranger prophesy that the world would suffer shipwreck to the terror of pilots and sailors? When, in February 1832, the Tuileries was feasting its courtiers; when the newspapers, which supported the Government, were glutted with praise; when the citizen-soldiers of the rues Saint-Denis and Saint-Martin were enthusiastic in taking their turn on guard; when officers were clamouring for crosses for themselves and invitations to court for their wives; when, out of the thirty-six millions of the French people, thirty millions were bellowing at the top oftheir voices, "Vive Louis-Philippe, the upholder of order and saviour of society!" when theJournal des Débatswas shouting itsHOSANNAHS! and theConstitutionnelitsAMENS!
By the powers! One would have been out of one's mind to die at such a time; and only a poet would talk of the world going to wrack and ruin!
But wait! When Béranger perceived that no one listened to his words, that, like Horace, he sang to deaf ears, he still went on singing, and now still louder than before—
"Société, vieux et sombre édifice,Ta chute, hélas! Menace nos abris:Tu vas crouler! point de flambeau qui puisseGuider la foule à travers tes débris:Où courons-nous! Quel sage en proie au douteN'a sur son front vingt fois passé la main?C'est aux soleils d'être sûrs de leur route;Dieu leur a dit: 'Voilà votre chemin!'"
Then comes the moment when this chaos is unravelled, and the night is lifted, and the dawn of a new day rises; the poet bursts into a song of joy as he sees it! What did he see? Oh! be not afraid, he will be only too ready to tell you—
"Toujours prophète, en mon saint ministère,Sur l'avenir j'ose interroger Dieu.Pour châtier les princes de la terre,Dans l'ancien monde un déluge aura lieu.Déjà près d'eux, l'Océan, sur les grèves,Mugit, se gonfle, il vient.... 'Maîtres, voyez,Voyez!' leur dis-je. Ils répondent: 'Tu rêves!'Ces pauvres rois, ils seront tous noyés!. . . . . . . . . .Que vous ont fait, mon Dieu, ces bons monarques?Il en est tant dont on bénit les lois!De jougs trop lourds si nous portons les marques,C'est qu'en oubli le peuple a mis ses droits.Pourtant, les flots précipitent leur marcheContre ces chefs jadis si bien choyés.Faute d'esprit pour se construire une arche,Ces pauvres rois, ils seront tous noyés!'Un océan! quel est-il, ô prophète?'Peuples, c'est nous, affranchis de la faim,Nous, plus instruits, consommant la défaiteDe tant de rois, inutiles, enfin!...Dieu fait passer sur ces fils indocilesNos flots mouvants, si longtemps fourvoyés;Puis le ciel brille, et les flots sont tranquilles.Ces pauvres rois, ils seront tous noyés!"
It will be observed that it was not as inles Deux Cousins, a simple change of fortune or of dynasty, but the overturning of every dynasty that the poet is predicting; not as inLes Dieu des bonnes gens, the changing of destinies and tides, but the revolution of both towards ultimate tranquillity. The ocean becomes a vast lake, without swell or storms, reflecting the azure heavens and of such transparent clearness that at the bottom can be seen the corpses of dead monarchies and the débris of wrecked thrones.
Then, what happens on the banks of this lake, in the capital of the civilised world, in the citypar excellence, as the Romans called Rome? The poet is going to tell you, and you will not have long to wait to know if he speaks the truth: a hundred and sixty-six years, dating from 1833, the date at which the song appeared. What is a hundred and sixty-six years in the life of a people? For, note carefully, the prophecy is for the year 2000, and the date may yet be disputed!
"Nostradamus, qui vit naître Henri-Quatre,Grand astrologue, a prédit, dans ses vers,Qu'en l'an deux mil, date qu'on peut débattre,De la médaille on verrait le revers:Alors, dit-il, Paris, dans l'allégresse,Au pied du Louvre ouïra cette voix:'Heureux Français, soulagez ma détresse;Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!'Or, cette voix sera celle d'un hommePauvre, à scrofule, en haillons, sans souliers,Qui,né proscrit, vieux, arrivant de Rome,Fera spectacle aux petits écoliers.Un sénateur crira: 'L'homme à besace,Les mendiants sont bannis par nos lois!—Hélas! monsieur, je suis seul de ma race;Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!''Es-tu vraiment de la race royale?'—Oui, répondra cet homme, fier encor;J'ai vu dans Rome, alors ville papale,À mon aïeul couronne et sceptre d'or;Il les vendit pour nourrir le courageDe faux agents, d'écrivains maladroits!Moi, j'ai pour sceptre un bâton de voyage....Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!'Mon père, âgé,mort en prison pour dettes,D'un bon métier n'osa point me pouvoir;Je tends la main ... Riches, partout vous êtesBien durs au pauvre, et Dieu me l'a fait voir!Je foule enfin cette plage fécondeQui repoussa mes aïeux tant de fois!Ah! par pitié pour les grandeurs du monde,Faites l'aumône au dernier de vos rois!'Le sénateur dira: 'Viens! je t'emmèneDans mon palais; vis heureux parmi nous.Contre les rois nous n'avons plus de haine;Ce qu'il en reste embrasse nos genoux!En attendant que le sénat décideÀ ses bienfaits si ton sort a des droits,Moi, qui suis né d'un vieux sang régicide,Je fais l'aumône au dernier de nos rois!'Nostradamus ajoute en son vieux style:'LaRépubliqueau prince accorderaCent louis de rente, et, citoyen utile,Pour maire, un jour, Saint-Cloud le choisira.Sur l'an deux mil, on dira dans l'histoire,Qu'assise au trône et des arts et des lois,La France, en paix, reposant sous sa gloire,A fait l'aumône au dernier de ses rois!'"
It is quite clear this time, and the wordRepublicis pronounced; theRepublicin the year 2000 will give alms to the last of its kings! There is no ambiguity in the prophecy.Now, how long will this Republic, strong enough to give alms to the last of its kings, have been established? It is a simple algebraic calculation which the most insignificant mathematician can arrive at, by proceeding according to rule, from the known to the unknown.
It is in the year 2000 that Paris will hear, at the foot of the Louvre, the voice of a man in tatters shouting, "Give alms to the last of your kings!"
This voice will belong to a manborn an outlaw, old, arriving from Rome,which leads one to suppose he would be about sixty or seventy years of age. Let us take a mean course and say sixty-five@ 65This man, a born outlaw,saw in Rome, then a papal city, the crown and golden sceptre of his grandfather.How long ago can that have been? Let us say fifty years@ 50For how long had this grandfather been exiled? It cannot have been long, because he had his sceptre and gold crown still, and sold them tofeed the courage of false agents and luckless writers.Let us reckon it at fifteen years and say no more about it@ 15Let us add to that the twenty years that have rolled by since 1833@ 20And we shall have to take away a total from 166 of150
This voice will belong to a manborn an outlaw, old, arriving from Rome,which leads one to suppose he would be about sixty or seventy years of age. Let us take a mean course and say sixty-five@ 65
This man, a born outlaw,saw in Rome, then a papal city, the crown and golden sceptre of his grandfather.How long ago can that have been? Let us say fifty years@ 50
For how long had this grandfather been exiled? It cannot have been long, because he had his sceptre and gold crown still, and sold them tofeed the courage of false agents and luckless writers.Let us reckon it at fifteen years and say no more about it@ 15
Let us add to that the twenty years that have rolled by since 1833@ 20
And we shall have to take away a total from 166 of150
Now he who from 166 pays back 150 keeps 16 as remainder,—and yet, and yet the poet said the year 2000 isopen to doubt.Do not let us dispute the question, but let us even allow more time.
We return thee thanks, Béranger, thou poet and prophet!
What happened upon the appearance of these prophecies which were calculated to wound many very different interests? That the people who knew the old poems of Béranger by heart, because their ambition, their hopes and desires, hadmade weapons of them wherewith to destroy the old throne, did not even read his new songs, whilst those who did read them said to each other, "Have you read Béranger's new songs? No. Well, don't read them. Poor fellow, he is going off!" So they did not read them, or, if they had read them, the word was passed round to say, that the song-writer was going off. No, on the contrary, the poet was growing greater, not deteriorating! But just as from song-writer he had become poet, so, from poet, he was becoming a prophet. I mean that, to the masses, he was becoming more and more unintelligible. Antiquity has preserved us the songs of Anacreon, but has forgotten the prophecies of Cassandra.
And why? Homer tells us: the Greeks refused to put faith in the prophetic utterances of the daughter of Priam and Hecuba.
Alas! Béranger followed her in this and held his peace; and a whole world of masterpieces on the eve of bursting forth was arrested on his silent lips. He smiled with that arch smile of his, and said—
"Ah! I am declining, am I? Well, then, ask for songs of those who are rising!"
Rossini had said the same thing afterGuillaume Tell, and what was the result? We had no more operas by him, and no more songs from Béranger.
Now it may be asked how it happens that Béranger, a Republican, resides peacefully in the avenue de Chateaubriand (No. 5), at Paris, whilst Victor Hugo is living in Marine Terrace, in the island of Jersey. It is simply a question of age and of temperament. Hugo is a fighter, and scarcely fifty: while Béranger, take him all in all, is an Epicurean and, moreover, seventy years of age;[1]an age at which a man begins to prepare his bed for his eternal sleep, and Béranger (God grant he may live many years yet, would he but accept some years of our lives!) wishes to die peacefully upon the bed of flowers and bay leaves that he has made for himself. He has earned the right to do so—he has struggled hardenough in the past, and, rest assured, his work will continue in the future!
Let us just say, in conclusion, that those who were then spoken of as theyoung school(they are now men of forty to fifty) were not fair to Béranger. After Benjamin Constant had exalted him to the rank of a great epic poet, they tried to reduce him to the level of a writer of doggerel verses. By this action, criticism innocently made itself the accomplice of the ruling powers; it only intended to be severe, but was, really, both unjust and ungrateful! It needs to be an exile and a poet living in a strange land, far from that communion of thought which is the food of intellectual life, to know how essentially French, philosophical and consolatory, the muse of the poet of Passy really was. In the case of Béranger, there was no question of exile, and each exile can, while he sings his songs, look for the realisation of that prophecy which Nostradamus has fixed for the year 2000.
But we are a very long way from the artillery, which we were discussing, and we must return to it again and to the riot in which it was called upon to play its part.
Let us, then, return to the riot and to the artillery. But, dear Béranger, dear poet, dear father, we do not bid youadieu, onlyau revoir.After the storm, the halcyon!—the halcyon, white as snow, which has passed through all the storms, its swan-like plumage as spotless as before.