Edmond Dantès
The question was put, and the Duchess and her sons, after great
hesitation, were drawn away to a side door, at the further end of the
hall. At the same moment a new crowd of the people rushed in and took
seats beside the opposition members, by whom they were welcomed.
"I demand to speak!" cried M. Marie. "By the law of 1842, the Duke of
Nemours is Regent. How can the King abrogate that law? I demand a
provisional government!"
"A provisional government!" cried M. Cremieux. "We made a mistake in
'30. Let there be no mistake in '48!"
"A provisional government," said the Abbe Genoude, a Legitimist; "but
it must be the will of the people!"
M. Odillon Barrot, who had been long expected, now entered and
immediately mounted the tribune.
"The crown of July rests on the head of a woman and a child!" cried the
great lawyer.
The Duchess of Orleans instantly rose, as if about to speak, but, at the
urgent solicitation of those around her, resumed her seat.
"I call on the country to rally around this woman and this child," cried
M. Barrot, "the two-fold representative of the principles of July, '30!"
The voice of the speaker was drowned in shouts of dissent and of "Vive
la Reforme!"
"I dissent from the opinion of M. Odillon Barrot!" cried the Marquis de
la Rochejacquelin. "If he is right, the people are nothing!"
"Order--order!" cried the President, putting on his hat, but he was at
once induced to remove it.
At this moment another vast crowd burst into the Chamber, garbed in a
style so heterogeneous as to be grotesque--some with blouses--some with
dragoon helmets on their heads, some with weapons and many with flags.
"Down--down--down with the Throne!" was the terrible cry of this
infuriated mass.
"I demand that the sitting be suspended!" cried M. de Mornay.
"There can be no session at such a moment," said the President, putting
on his hat.
"Off--off--off with your hat, President!" cried the populace; and
several of their muskets were at once pointed at the President. The hat
was removed.
The scene was chaos!
"Beware!" shouted M. Chevalier, editor of the Historical Library.
"Beware how you make the Count of Paris King! A provisional government
we must first have!"
"What right have you to speak?" shouted a man. "You are not a deputy!"
"In the name of the people, silence!" roared a terrific voice that
drowned every other.
It was the voice of Ledru Rollin.
Many of the deputies now withdrew, and their places were filled by the
people. The Duchess of Orleans sat calmly amid the uproar, and the Duke
of Nemours with equal calmness stood behind her chair.
"The throne has been tumbled from the windows of the Tuileries and is
now burning in the Place de la Bastille!" cried M. Dumoulin, who
commanded the Hotel de Ville in July of '30, displaying the tri-color
flag.
"No more Bourbons! Down with the Bourbons! Down with the traitors! A
provisional government!" shouted the people.
"Aye, a Republic!" cried M. Chevalier.
Cremieux, Ledru Rollin and Lamartine were at the same time in the
tribune.
"In the name of the people, silence!" again roared the awful voice of
Ledru Rollin.
"A provisional government!" shouted one of the people.
"You shall have a provisional government!" exclaimed M. Maguin.
"In the name of the people--in the name of the people of Paris in arms,"
again began Ledru Rollin, "I protest against this King and this Regency.
The constitution of '9 demands the will of the people to fix a Regency.
Yet the law of '42 makes the Duke of Nemours Regent, and now it is the
Duchess of Orleans. I protest against it all! I demand a provisional
government!"
"Question--question!" shouted M. Berryer. "A provisional government!"
"In 1815," continued Ledru Rollin, "Napoleon abdicated in favor of the
King of Rome. The King of Rome was refused. In 1830, Charles X.
abdicated in favor of his grandson. The grandson was rejected. In 1848,
Louis Philippe abdicates in favor of his grandson--the Count of Paris!"
"Question--question!" again vociferated M. Berryer. "We all know those
histories!"
"In the name of the people," continued Ledru Rollin, "I demand a
provisional government, named by the people--not by the Chamber--but by
the people!"
Tremendous shouts followed, and M. Lamartine, who had stood beside
Rollin in the tribune, now took his place amid renewed shouts.
After an eloquent speech on the same side as his friend, he concluded by
demanding a provisional government, with an appeal to "the people--the
entire people--all who by the title of man have rights as men."
While Lamartine was yet speaking, a violent knocking was heard at the
door of the Chamber, which was forcibly burst open and a vast crowd
rushed in.
"Down with the Chamber! Down with the Deputies!" shouted the populace,
and muskets were instantly leveled at Lamartine, and, also, at the Royal
party.
"It is Lamartine! it is Lamartine!" was the cry of terror that rose from
his friends.
The muskets were lowered.
The Duchess and her party were at once withdrawn from the Chamber by a
side door, and having first retired to the Hotel des Invalides, next
fled to the Rhine; the Duke of Nemours fled to Boulogne and thence to
England.
"Silence--silence--silence!" shouted the President, violently ringing
his bell. But the uproar only increased. "I pronounce this session
closed!" cried the President, and putting on his hat he instantly left
the chair.
Here ends the Chamber of Deputies.
A large number of the members withdrew with the President, but the
opposition remained, and with them the people and the National Guards.
After the noise incident to this departure had subsided, the venerable
M. Dupont de l'Eure, a gray-headed old man of eighty, was, by unanimous
acclamation, placed in the President's chair. Lamartine still remained
in the tribune, and repeatedly strove to make his voice heard, but in
vain.
"In the name of the people, silence, and let Lamartine speak!" at length
was heard in the thunder tones of Ledru Rollin, rising above all other
sounds.
Silence for a moment being obtained, Lamartine exclaimed:
"Citizens!--a provisional government is declared! The names of the
members will now be announced by the President!"
Lamartine then descended from the tribune; applause and uproar
succeeded.
"The names of the members nominated for a provisional government I will
now read to you," said the aged President, rising and displaying a
paper.
The following names were then read, and were repeated as they came one
after the other from the speaker's mouth by the reporters in loud tones:
Lamartine, Ledru Rollin, Arago, Dupont de l'Eure, Marie, Georges
Lafayette; all were received with general approbation.
"The members of the Provisional Government must be conducted by the
people to the Hotel de Ville and installed!" cried a voice from the
crowd.
"Let us adjourn to the Hotel de Ville, Lamartine at the head!" said M.
Bocage.
Immediately Lamartine, accompanied by a large number of citizens,
withdrew. But a great multitude still remained upon the benches and in
the semi-circle of the Chamber.
"Citizens!" cried Ledru Rollin, "in nominating a provisional government
you perform a solemn act--an act which cannot be performed in a furious
manner. Let me once more repeat to you the names you have chosen, and as
they are repeated, you will say 'yes' or 'no,' precisely as they please
you; I call on the reporters of the public press to note the names and
the manner in which they are now received, that France may know what is
here done."
The names of Dupont de l'Eure, Arago, Lamartine, Ledru Rollin, Cremieux,
Garnier Pages and Marie were then read out, and all, except the last
two--which were received with a few negatives--were confirmed by
unanimous acclamation. The names were then engrossed in capitals on a
sheet of paper and borne around the Chamber on the bayonet of a National
Guard that all might read for themselves.
"I have one more word to say," cried Ledru Rollin. "The Provisional
Government has immense duties to perform. We must now close this
meeting, that the Government may be able to restore order--stanch the
flow of blood, and secure to the people their rights."
"To the Hotel de Ville!--to the Hotel de Ville!" responded the people in
a tremendous shout. "Vive la Republique!--to the Hotel de Ville!"
Headed by Ledru Rollin the excited multitude withdrew, and at four
o'clock all was as silent in the Chamber of Deputies as if not a voice
had resounded or a footstep had echoed within its walls for centuries.
In the distance, however, could be heard the repeated shout:
"Vive la Republique!--to the Hotel de Ville!"
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SACK OF THE TUILERIES.
Scarcely had the carriages conveying the Royal family disappeared on
their flight toward St. Cloud, when the whole mass of the populace
poured as with one simultaneous purpose into the deserted palace. The
Palais Bourbon had already been sacked; a like fate might be supposed to
await the Tuileries; but the Tuileries belonged to France, not to the
House of Orleans, and a certain respect was observed for everything but
the insignia of Royalty. For these was shown no regard. The throne
itself of the state reception-room--that throne on which sat Louis
Philippe for the first time, as King of the French, ere the Tuileries
became his throne--was torn from its base, and, having been hurled first
in derision from the windows into the court, was borne in mock triumph
on the shoulders of men, who shouted that now the throne was indeed
supported by the people, to the Place de la Bastille, and there
consumed to ashes. In the courtyard, in the Rue de Rivoli and on the
quays, huge fires roared, fanned into fury by a hurricane of wind, and
fed by richly carved furniture, gilded chairs, canopies, pianos, sofas,
beds, costly paintings, splendid works of art and the Royal carriages
glittering with gold. The magnificent tapestries of the Gobelins were
borne as streamers, in frantic fury, along the boulevards; mischievous
gamins were frolicking about in the long scarlet robes worn upon Court
occasions, which they had filched from the Royal wardrobe; the
escritoire of the King, the key having been found in a tea-cup, was
ransacked, and private letters, books and the garments of ladies were
strewn about the court and gardens of the Tuileries. The cellars of the
palace were soon filled with the insurgents; but they declared the wine
bad, as it never remained long enough in the cellars of kings to get
good! Destruction, not pillage, seemed the order of the hour, and to
guard against robbery the people took upon themselves the arrest and
punishment of offenders. The walls bore the menace, "Robbers shall die!"
In several instances the threat was carried into immediate execution,
and bodies, suffered to lie on the spot upon which they had been cut
down, bore on their breasts the label "Thief!" in terrible warning.
Sentinels also stood at the gates, and no one was allowed to leave the
palace without rigorous search.
In the apartments of the Duchess of Orleans, the table was found spread
for the dinner of herself and her children; upon the table were the
little silver cups, forks and spoons of the young Princes, and on the
floor were scattered their costly toys. The latter were gathered
carefully up by a workman in a blouse, and as carefully concealed in a
corner. The former, together with all jewels and other valuables found
in the apartments of the Duchess, were deposited in a bathing-tub, on
which a workman seated himself as guard and suffered no one to approach
until the aforesaid valuables could be conveyed by a detachment of the
Polytechnic School to the Government treasury. The story runs that, on