Edmond Dantès
"Have you heard that the 5th Regiment, as in 1830, has joined the
people, and that, on their way to the Prefecture of Police to liberate
some of the people who had been arrested, they stopped at the office of
'La Reforme,' and were eloquently addressed by our friend, Louis Blanc?"
"What did he say to them?"
"He told them the fight was not yet over; that there must still be a
banquet; and that this time there must be no mistake--the workmen must
have the freedom they won!"
"Vive Louis Blanc!" cried Albert, and, in a higher state of excitement
than he had ever before been known to exhibit, he hurried off.
"I am for the Tuileries," said Ledru Rollin, as they parted.
"And I for the Palais Royal," said Albert.
"We meet to-night at the office of 'Le National?'"
"Without fail, at midnight!"
It was on the square at the south end of the Palais Royal that most
blood was spilled between the people and the troops. The Chateau d'Eau
was furiously assailed and obstinately defended--assailed by the people
and defended by six thousand picked troops. The people triumphed! Of the
troops, at least a thousand perished, and the remnant fled.
At three o'clock M. Rambuteau, Prefect of the Seine, waited on the King
and informed him that the National Guard demanded reform, and the
Municipal Guard a change of Ministry.
The King in dismay convened the Ministry.
"Can the Ministry maintain itself?" asked Louis Philippe.
"That question brings its own answer to your Majesty," replied Guizot.
"If you doubt the stability of your Ministry, who can trust them?"
"I have thought of the Count Mole," observed the King.
"He is an able man, sire," replied Guizot; "and his political
connections with M. Barrot and M. Thiers may aid him to form a Ministry.
But, sire, not an instant is to be lost. Your faithful Ministers will do
all they can, but a Ministerial crisis cannot be delayed; and, if your
Majesty will permit the suggestion, the emergency demands that to
Marshal Bugeaud be given the command of Paris."
"You will proceed to the Chamber to announce that M. Mole is entrusted
with the formation of a new cabinet," said the King.
And the council closed.
At four, an officer of the staff passed along the boulevards, announcing
the fall of the Ministry.
Instantly, with the speed of the telegraph, the intelligence flew to
the obscurest parts of Paris. Its effect was, at first, most cheering.
Barricades were deserted and arms thrown down; faces brightened, hands,
almost stained with each other's blood, were clasped; troops and people,
unwillingly fighting, embraced; all was triumph, joy and congratulation.
"All now is over--all is right at last!" was the exclamation of one man
of the people to another.
"Guizot has fallen, but the King has sent for Count Mole," replied a
third, with a dissatisfied air.
"No matter," cried the first speaker, "the system is overturned! What
care we who is Minister?"
"It is too late," replied the other. "Guizot has been forced away by the
people--Mole may be forced away, too--so may the King! No more tricks!
The people now know their power. There shall be no mistake this time!"
And the insurrectionists parted.
As the day closed, barricades rose in the Quartier du Temple, and there
was fighting between the people and the Municipal Guard. But the
National Guard came to the rescue, and the latter surrendered.
At nine o'clock Paris was illuminated. White, red, blue--yellow, orange,
green--these were the tri-colors of the lamps that poured their rich
effulgence from every window on the gloomy scene without. The streets
were thronged and the cafes crowded; men of all nations and Parisians
of all classes were in the streets; the rattle of musketry had ceased;
the troops were in their barracks and the people at their homes.
At the corner of the Boulevard and the Rue des Capucines, Flocon and
Louis Blanc met.
"Guizot has fallen!" cried the first.
"And the most intimate friend of the King has succeeded him! What have
we to hope for from the change?"
"What are we to do?" asked Flocon.
"In one hour the people will sing the Marseillaise before the Hotel des
Affaires Etrangeres!"
"The 14th Regiment of the Line is there," replied Flocon.
"So much the better! Blood will flow! The revolution will not stop!"
And the conspirators separated.
At ten o'clock, before the official residence of M. Guizot, himself then
absent, and probably in full flight for the coast, an immense crowd of
the people with torches was assembled. Their purpose was to sing the
Marseillaise. The 14th Regiment barred the way--the street was dimly
lighted--a single row of lamps along the courtyard wall was all the
illumination--a double line of troops was the defence.
"Let me pass!" cried the officer of the National Guard who led the
people to the officer who led the troops.
"Impossible!"
"In the name of the people, I demand to pass!"
"In the name of the Law, you shall not!"
"The people command! Forward!" cried the National Guard.
"Present! Fire!" shouted the officer.
There was a roll of musketry--a shrill shriek rang along the
Boulevard--the vast mass recoiled--the smoke floated off--sixty-three of
the people of Paris lay weltering in their gore!
"The blow is struck at last!" cried M. Dantes, rushing across the
Boulevard, pale and excited. "To arms, people of Paris, to arms!"
"To arms, to arms! Vengeance for our brothers!" was now the terrible cry
that burst from the infuriated populace. The congratulation--the
illumination--all was lost in the wild wish for vengeance.
At eleven o'clock that night an immense multitude, composed chiefly of
workmen from the faubourgs, was coming down the Boulevard des Capucines.
It was the largest and most regular throng yet seen. In front marched a
platoon of men bearing torches and waving tri-color flags. Immediately
behind walked an officer in the full uniform of the National Guard, with
a drawn sword in his hand, whose slightest command was implicitly
observed. Next came a tumbrel bearing the naked corpses of the slain,
whose faces, mutilated by their wounds and disfigured by blood, glared
horribly up, with open eyes, in the red torchlight that flared in the
night blast around! Behind this awful display marched a dense mass of
National Guards, succeeded by a countless mass of the people armed
with, guns, swords, clubs and bars of iron, chanting forth in full
chorus, not the inspiring Marseillaise or the Parisienne, but in awful
concert sending upon the night air the deep and dreadful notes of the
death-hymn of the Girondins, "Mourir pour la Patrie," intermingled with
yells for vengeance.
Down the boulevards approach the multitude--more distinct becomes the
dirge--more redly glare the torches--and, amid all, more deeply rumble
the wheels of the death-cart on the pavement!
The funeral column reaches the corner of the Boulevard and the Rue
Lepelletier--the death-hymn rises to a yell of fury--the officer of the
National Guard turns the head of the column to the right--before it is
an edifice conspicuous by its illumination of huge and blood-red
lamps--it is the office of "Le National"--the crowd halts--one long loud
shriek of "Vengeance!" goes up--it is succeeded by the thrilling notes
of the Marseillaise from ten thousands lips, and "Marrast! Marrast!" is
the shout that follows.
The windows of the front office were thrown up, and the editor,
surrounded by friends, appeared. His speech was brief but fervid. He
exhorted the people to be firm--to secure their rights beyond
recall--and promised them ample retribution for past wrongs and security
for future rights.
M. Garnier Pages, who stood at the side of Marrast, next addressed the
people in the same strain, amid thunders of applause.
Making a detour to the office of "La Reforme," the multitude were
addressed by M. Flocon, its editor; then, proceeding to the Place de la
Bastille, the corpses were deposited at the foot of the Column of July,
and the crowd dispersed.
The night that succeeded was an awful one. The streets, which an hour
before blazed with the illumination, were dark. Barricades rose in every
direction. At every corner shopmen, workmen, women, clerks and children
were at work. The crash of falling trees, the clank of the lever and the
pickaxe, the rattle of paving stones--these were the significant sounds
that broke the stillness. Every tree on the whole line of the Boulevard
was felled and every lamp-post overthrown; a barricade of immense
strength rose at the end of the Rue Richelieu; the troops offered no
resistance; they piled their arms, lighted their fires and bivouacked
close beside the barricades. At the Hotel de Ville the troops of the
Line and the Chasseurs d'Afrique quietly ate their suppers, smoked their
pipes and laid themselves down to sleep. On the Boulevard des Italiens
appeared three regiments of the Line, a battalion of National Guards, a
regiment of cuirassiers, and three field-pieces, with their caissons of
ammunition. The horses were unharnessed by the people, the caissons
opened, the ammunition distributed and the guns dragged off. The troops,
guards and cuirassiers fraternized.
CHAPTER XX.
ANOTHER MIDNIGHT CONCLAVE.
Again it was midnight. Again the chiefs of the revolution of '48
assembled in conclave. The second of the Three Days had passed, but the
streets of Paris were all alive with excitement.
Every leader of the reform was there--Ledru Rollin and Flocon excited
and fiery, Louis Blanc exhausted and agitated, Albert stern and
collected, Lamartine pale and troubled, Marrast sanguine and
confident--all of them more or less disturbed but M. Dantes. As for him,
the same calm smile was on his lip, the same mild light in his eye and
the same unchanging resolution upon his countenance.
"Who attended the Chamber of Deputies to-day?" asked Marrast. "Did you,
Lamartine?"
"I did," was the reply, "and witnessed a somewhat stormy sitting. At
three o'clock, as usual, old Sauzet took the chair. Our friends were
there in large numbers; the Ministerial benches were also filled.
Immediately after, M. Guizot entered. He had been saluted with groans by
the 10th Legion, stationed on guard without, and with cries of 'Down
with Guizot!' Calm, undisturbed, stony in aspect, though strangely
pallid, he entered and took his seat. M. Vavin, Deputy for the Seine,
instantly mounted the tribune. As Deputy of Paris he had, he said, a
solemn duty to fulfill. For twenty-four hours Paris had been in
insurrection. Why was this? He called on the Minister of the Interior to
explain."
"And what said Guizot?" asked Louis Blanc, eagerly.
"He said he thought the public interest did not demand, nor was it
proper for the Chamber at that time, to enter into debate on the
subject. The King had called M. le Comte Mole to form a new cabinet."
"And then the left cheered?" exclaimed Flocon.
"Most emphatically," was the reply.
"And what said Guizot then?" asked Ledru Rollin.
"He calmly said that no such demonstrations could induce him to add to
or withhold a single syllable of what he designed to say, or to
pretermit a single act he had designed to do. As long as his Ministry
remained in office he should cause public order to be respected,
according to his best judgment, and as he had always done. He should
consider himself answerable for all that might happen, and should in all
things act as conscience might dictate for the best interests of the
country."
"A noble answer!" exclaimed M. Dantes, with enthusiasm.
Ledru Rollin and Louis Blanc assented.
"And what next?" pursued Flocon.
"After considerable confusion," continued Lamartine, "M. Odillon Barrot
rose and demanded, in consequence of the situation of the cabinet, a