CHAPTER XXI.
THE THIRD DAY.
The next morning the following placard attracted general attention:
"CITIZENS OF PARIS:
Orders have been given to cease firing everywhere.
We have just been charged by the King to form a new Ministry.
The Chamber will be dissolved and an appeal made to the country.
General Lamoriciere has been appointed Commandant of the National Guard.
Liberty! Order! Union! Reform! ODILLON BARROT. THIERS."
Such was the placard which appeared at every corner in Paris on themorning of Thursday, February 24th. At three o'clock it had been hastilystruck at the offices of "La Presse" and "Le Constitutionnel," and giveninto the hands of the bill-posters. At daylight it was read by theearly passers, and, as soon as read, indignantly torn down with thesignificant murmur, "It is too late!"
At eight o'clock a proclamation to the National Guard, signed byLamoriciere and countersigned by Odillon Barrot, was similarly received.
At nine o'clock the 45th Regiment of the Line fraternized with theNational Guard, the 30th resigned its arms to the people, and the fivecompanies of Compiers yielded their quarters with all their arms andammunition at the first summons.
At ten o'clock a proclamation was posted up at the Bourse, signed byOdillon Barrot and Thiers, ordering the troops not only to cease firing,but to retire to their quarters. Immediately the trumpets sounded aretreat, and the most important positions hitherto held by the Line wereyielded to the people. The men of the barricades could now concentrateand advance. Magic there was none in the names of Barrot and Thiers torestrain them. Both were viewed as deserters from their cause. Thelatter was openly insulted by the populace wherever he appeared, and theformer, though at first respectfully listened to, was, at length,assailed with murmurs of disapprobation on his way to the Tuileries.
In his editorial sanctum sat our friend Beauchamp, of whom for some timewe have lost sight, but who has, meanwhile, been most industriously atwork in his paper, "Le Charivari," in concert with "Le National" andother larger sheets, in forwarding the cause of reform and, finally, ofrevolution.
The door opened and Chateau-Renaud appeared.
"Farewell, Beauchamp!" he exclaimed, "I've not a moment to lose! Apost-chaise is at the door! Farewell!"
"Off!" cried the journalist, in astonishment. "And whither--and why?"
"Yes, off for England--Italy--America--anywhere but France!" exclaimedthe young noble.
"And why?"
"Why?" cried the indignant Deputy. "Look around you and then ask whatthere is left in France for me! Beauchamp," continued the young manhurriedly and in low tones, "France will have no King at this hourto-morrow! Mark the prophecy! The National Guard fraternizes with thepopulace; the Line fraternizes with the Guard. The Government is, ofcourse, paralyzed. All is over; six hours hence the Tuileries will beransacked by a drunken mob!--Farewell!"
"One moment! Why do you leave in this way? Why do you not go to Boulogneby the cars?"
"And do you not know--you, a journalist--that for three leagues around,in every direction, every railway radiating from Paris has been torn up?Do you not know that every public conveyance, even to the MailDiligences, has been stopped, and that all the telegraph stations havebeen dismantled--all to prevent the further concentration of troops inParis by the Government?"
"I did hear of this, indeed," said Beauchamp.
"At dawn I was at the railway depot, having late last night, withextreme difficulty, procured a passport. And whom think you, amongcrowds of others, I encountered there? You would never guess, and Ihaven't time for you to try. Lucien Debray, and with him--but that'simpossible for you to divine--she who was Madame Danglars, wife of therich banker years ago. Well, the banker is dead and she is immenselyrich, and I suppose Lucien's spouse into the bargain."
"And where go they?"
"Oh! to England of course--that grand reservoir of all emigrantroyalists, that asylum for all who love kings! But farewell, farewell!If I am not off soon I may have to go without my head! And if you arenot massacred by your detestable party, I hope to hear of you yet as aCabinet Minister. Despite your abominable principles, you have my bestwishes! Farewell!"
And with a hearty shake of Beauchamp's hand, the young noble was off foran atmosphere more congenial to monarchists than was that of Paris.
Nor was he alone. Thousands fled from Paris in like manner that sameday, and the only cry that followed them was this:
"Let them go! Let them go!"
The streets of Paris were now choked with barricades--not the meretemporary breastworks of the first and second days, which a singlecharge of heavy dragoons would sweep away, but regular systematic,scientific structures, erected apparently under the direction ofmilitary engineers, and calculated upon every principle of art to insureresistance. Some of them were of immense size--that, for example, at thecorner of the Rue Richelieu; some had port-holes from which protrudedthe mouths of ordnance in battery; all were surmounted by a flag,tri-color or red, and all were defended by desperate men. Some otherthoroughfares were crossed by many barricades--the Rue St. Martin, forinstance, by thirty or forty. The troops assailing these structures weremowed down, throughout the day, in a manner which even their opponentsdeemed most merciless. Instances of individual bravery on both sideswere frequent. In the Rue Mauconseil, a young man exposed himself on thetop of the barricade, time after time, firing with fatal aim, and everytime a shower of balls from the troops assailing whistled around him.But he stood untouched, and, at length, the officer ordering the troopsto fire at him no more, he retired at once behind the breastwork. A boyin the Rue St. Honore mounted the barricade, enveloped in a tri-colorflag, and dared the troops to fire on their colors. He descendedunharmed. An officer of the Line was summoned to yield his sword. He didso, but first broke it in twain across his knee. The same demand wasmade to a lieutenant of the Municipal Guard, with a musket at hisbreast; he was bidden also to shout "Vive la Republique!" but he onlycried "Vive le Roi!" as the weapon was wrenched from his grasp! Yet hewas spared. Arms were demanded from every householder, and when given,the gift was endorsed on the door in these words: "Here we were givenarms." One man received a sword splendidly decorated with gems upon itsscabbard and hilt. "I want only the blade!" he said, tearing it awayfrom its ornaments and grasping the naked steel!
At ten o'clock M. Odillon Barrot, General Lamoriciere and Horace Vernet,the great marine artist, proceeded on horseback to the barricades toinduce the people to disperse, but all their eloquent entreaties werereceived only with insults. "No truce--no tricks--no mistake this time!"were the decisive shouts with which they were greeted. A second time, inthe Rue Richelieu, General Lamoriciere, accompanied by Moline Saint Grubearing a palm-branch, was equally unsuccessful. "It is too late!" wasthe terrible response from the heart of the barricades, followed by ashower of stones, one of which wounded General Lamoriciere on the hand.A third time, in the Rue Rohan, General Gourgaud, who even promised theabdication of the King, met with the same utter defeat, and hastily fledfrom the fury of the monster now thoroughly roused.
At twelve o'clock the rumor sped with lightning rapidity through thestreets of Paris that the troops, who had ostensibly been ordered totheir quarters, were, in fact, concentrated around the palace. Instantlyrose the shout, "To the Tuileries! To the Tuileries!" and a hundredthousand men from all sections of the city marched toward the PalaisBourbon and the Tuileries!
The rumor of the concentration at the palace was true. The Place duCarrousel was crowded with troops of every arm, including severalsquadrons of cuirassiers, and six pieces of ordnance were in position,with their ammunition caissons and their provisions and baggage wagons,as if for a siege. The King, attended by his staff and accompanied bythe Dukes of Nemours and Montpensier, now descended into the court topass the troops in review. The Line shouted "Vive le Roi!" as the
Kingrode along. The National Guards, with tones and looks of menace anddefiance, cried "Reform!" The King replied, "Yes, my friends, you shallhave reform," and sad and dispirited turned away to his apartments; ashe retired the bitter murmur was heard from his aged lips, "Like CharlesX."
A deputation of the people had been admitted within the limits of thePlace du Carrousel to announce the terms they would accept, but after abrief parley had retired dissatisfied. The men of the barricades nowinvested the Tuileries and the Palais Royal on every side.
Such was the scene without. Within, all was confusion and dismay. Thesalons were thronged by deputies, peers, generals and marshals; Bugeaud,Lamoriciere, Dupin, Thiers, de Lasteyrie and many others were there,together with all of the Royal family then in the capital, whether maleor female.
Meanwhile, the rattle of musketry, broken by the occasional roar ofordnance, in the direction of the Palais Royal, indicated the severestruggle then going on between the people and the troops; from time totime, the furious shout of "To the guillotine with Louis Philippe!"reached the ear.
"Does your Majesty hear that?" asked the Duke of Nemours coldly of hisdismayed father. Alas! the old man was no longer the hero of July 3d!
"I do, my son," was the trembling reply. "Do you advise abdication?"
"Is there any other course left?" asked the Duke of Montpensier.
"Any other course!" cried the Queen, indignantly. "Oh! are you myson--are you a son of Orleans, and can you talk thus of degradation? Areyou a soldier and do you fear? Mount!--mount!--charge on therebels!--cut them to the earth!--drench the pavement with theirblood!--perish, but yield not ignominiously thus!"
"Madame," said M. Thiers, solemnly, "it is too late! There must be anabdication in favor of the Count of Paris, and the appointment of theDuchess of Orleans as Regent, or all is lost!"
"Then if this must be, let it be done with dignity becoming a monarch,"said the noble Queen. "Let us all retire to St. Cloud. There may bedictated terms of honorable capitulation. There--"
At that instant in rushed a man breathless, bearing a sheet of paper inhis hand, and exclaiming:
"Sire--Sire--your troops are delivering their arms to the people! In amoment they will stand where you now stand! Sign this paper, or yourlife and the lives of all your family will be sacrificed!"
That man was Emile de Girardin, the editor of "La Presse," and themurderer of Armand Carrel, and that paper was an act of abdication.
"Ah! this is a bitter cup," said the old King as he placed his signatureto the sheet, "and doubly bitter presented by such a hand! Like CharlesX.!"
At one o'clock, at the Bourse and at the corners of all the principalstreets, was posted this proclamation:
"CITIZENS OF PARIS: The King has abdicated in favor of the Count of Paris, with the Duchess of Orleans as Regent.
A General Amnesty.
Dissolution of the Chamber.
Appeal to the Country."
But the people were now in the midst of the assault on the Palais Royal,and to check them was impossible.
The Palais Royal consisted of two portions--the Chateau d'Eau, orpalace, and the other part, which though the property of the Orleansfamily was yet rented by private persons, and was occupied for cafes,shops, dwellings and places of entertainment--adorned by colonnades andarcades, and by trees, statues and fountains in the magnificentquadrangle. The property of the citizens was respected--that of the Kingonly was assailed. For two hours did the 14th Regiment pour forth itsfire from the numerous windows of that edifice and from the courtbelow. At length, a band of bold Republicans, headed by the chivalricEtienne Arago, musket in hand, charged from the side of the Cafe de laRegence, followed by a detachment of the National Guard, and, drivingthe troops into the building, surrounded it with straw which they set onfire. The vast edifice was instantly filled with smoke and flame. Thedefence ceased. The soldiers rushed out and were instantly slain. Thecommander of the detachment was pierced by a bayonet. The multituderushed in, and the building was sacked. The richest and most costlyfurniture and decorations were at once torn down, dashed to pieces andthrown from the windows by the infuriated populace.
Within the Palace of the Tuileries is a subterranean passage,constructed for the infant King of Rome and his nurses, which, plungingbeneath the pavements, and passing along the whole length of thegardens, under the terrace beside the river bank, suddenly emerges atthe gate of the Place du Carrousel, in front of the obelisk. Into thispassage, in wild panic, descended the King and Queen of France, with alltheir children and grandchildren, immediately upon the signing of theabdication, and just as the doors were about to be forced. Emerging fromthe passage, the King, leaning on the arm of his faithful wife, MarieAmelie, and followed by the Royal party, crossed the Place de laConcorde as far as the asphalt pavement. The Royal party now consistedof the King and Queen, the Duchess of Nemours and her children, thePrincess Clementine and her husband, the Duke Augustus of Saxe-Coburg,and the Duke of Montpensier with his young and lovely Spanish bride, nowenceinte and far advanced. Ignorant of the language, only sixteen yearsof age, a stranger to the customs and people of the country, and in herdelicate situation, the position of this young creature was peculiarlytrying. At one moment she clung with terror to her young husband's arm,which she refused for an instant to resign, and the next laughed at herown terror, saying that one who in her infancy had twice, in Madrid,been saved by being carried off in a sack ought not now to fear when shehad feet to carry herself away and was suffered to use them! It is saidthat the fair Senora was forgotten in the hurry of the flight and almostleft behind!
As soon as the Royal party were perceived, they were surrounded by atroop of National Guards as an escort, and a large number of officers ofthe Line in various uniforms. The King leaned on the Queen, as if forsupport, while she boldly advanced with a firm step and stern look. Bothwere in deepest mourning for the recent death of the beloved sister ofthe King, the Princess Adelaide.
Upon this melancholy procession the people gazed with mingled curiosity,amusement, gratification and regret.
"They are going to the Chamber of Deputies to complete the abdication!"cries one.
"Vive la Reforme!" shouts another.
"Vive la France!" shouts a second.
"Vive le Roi!" in suppressed tones falters a third.
"See the poor young Duchess!" cried a woman, who was availing herself ofher peculiar rotundity as a battering-ram to force her way through thecrowd.
"She had better have remained at home!" sneered a Dynastic bitterly.
"The poor little children!" exclaimed a young woman more remarkable forprettiness than neatness, and more remarkable still for the scantinessof her attire, nearly all of which had been torn from her roundedshoulders in the throng.
The spirit which pervaded the mass was, evidently, by no meansunfriendly to the Royal family, and it was as evidently misunderstood bythem, for, suddenly, as if by fatality, on the very spot where LouisXVI. was beheaded, just beyond the Pont Tournant, on the pavement of theObelisk of Luxor, the whole party, with no apparent necessity, came to adead and complete halt. Instantly the multitude was crowded upon them,and this augmented their terror. The King dropped the Queen's arm andhastily raising his hat cried, "Vive la Reforme!" All was in a momentuproar and confusion. The Queen in terror at finding her husband's armwas gone turned hurriedly on every side.
"Fear not, Madame," said a mild voice beside her. "The people will doyou no harm."
This was M. Maurice, editor of "Le Courrier des Spectacles."
"Leave me, leave me, Monsieur!" she exclaimed, in great excitement,evidently mistaking the words. Then regaining her husband, she againgrasped his arm, and the mass at the same time opening its ranks, thetwo hastened on to a couple of those little black one-horse vehicles,chancing there to stand, which run to St. Cloud. In one of these alreadysat the Duchesses of Montpensier and Nemours with two of the children.In the other stood the two remaining children. Into the latter hu
rriedlystepped the Royal pair. The door was instantly closed and the vehicledrove off at a furious rate, surrounded by an escort of dragoons,cuirassiers and National Guards, two hundred in number, taking thewater-side toward St. Cloud. The other carriage, similarly escorted,followed at a like rapid pace, the children standing at the windows,their faces pressed to the glass, gazing eagerly, with the innocentcuriosity of infancy, on a scene from which their future fate would takeshape.
"He is gone!" shouted a stentorian voice, breaking the momentarystillness as the carriages, surrounded by their escort, swept from theview.
"Let him go! Let him go!" was the stern and significant response. "Weare not regicides!"
"To the Tuileries! To the Tuileries!" was now the tremendous shout whichrose from the multitude, as they rushed toward the deserted palace.
But the Tuileries had already fallen. It was no longer thedwelling-place of kings.
Even before the Royal abdication was declared, even before it wassigned, the troops of the Line in the courtyard of the palace--infantry,artillery, dragoons--to the number at least of twenty-five thousand,were summoned to surrender their posts, while the fraternal shout, "Vivela Ligne!" elicited from the lips of many of the soldiers the answeringcry of "Vive la Reforme!" In vain was it that Marshal Bugeaud, theveteran of a hundred battles, menaced and blasphemed. In vain did hisold protege and subaltern, but now bitter foe, General Lamoriciere,dashing from one end of the line to the other on his white horse,entreat and persuade with his eloquent tongue. The people insisted--theNational Guard fraternized--the Line wavered. And yet most imminent atthat moment was their own peril.
The 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 6th and 10th Legions of the National Guardinvested the Tuileries, and others were on the march, accompanied bycountless masses of the people. Within the courtyard were twenty-fivethousand of the best troops in the world of every arm, and a park ofordnance charged to the muzzle frowned upon the dense masses whichswarmed the Place du Carrousel. The watchful artilleryman stood at hiscannon's breech, with the lighted linstock in his hand, which he keptalive by constant motion. He awaited but a word from the pale, firm lipsof General Lamoriciere, and that vast and magnificent space nowswarming with life would have been swept as if by destruction's besom.Death in all its most horrid forms would have been there. That pavementwould have run with gore! The facades of those splendid edifices wouldhave been polluted with shreds and fragments of human flesh, andspattered with human blood. Yet dreadful would have been the sureretribution! Indiscriminate massacre of all unfortunate souls withinthat Royal palace would have been inevitable and instantaneous. Yet,such a catastrophe might be precipitated by a single word!--theavalanche might be started by a single breath; and blood once shed,Paris would be deluged!
"In the name of the people I demand to speak with the commandant of theTuileries!" shouted a young man in the uniform of an officer of theNational Guard, advancing to the iron railing of the court near the Ruede Rivoli.
It was Lieutenant Aubert Roche. The commandant was sent for andimmediately arrived.
"Monsieur, you are lost!" cried the young man.
"You are surrounded by sixty thousand men of the National Guard, and onehundred thousand of the people of Paris!"
"What is demanded?" was the trembling response.
"That you evacuate the Tuileries!--resign it to the National Guard!"
"The troops shall be withdrawn, Monsieur. Orders for their retirementto the palace shall be issued instantly."
"That will not do! The palace must be evacuated," insisted theLieutenant, "or the people will raze it to the ground!"
"Come with me, Monsieur," said the commandant.
The gate was immediately opened, and Lieutenant Roche, accompanied by M.Leseur, chef de bataillon, bearing a flag of truce, followed thecommandant to the Pavillon de l'Horloge, where stood the Duke ofNemours, pale with excitement, surrounded by generals.
"Monseigneur," said the commandant, "suffer me to present a deputationfrom the people."
"Messieurs, what do the people demand?" asked the Duke in tremblingtones.
"The evacuation, this instant, of this palace, and its delivery to theNational Guard!"
"And if we do not comply?" asked Marshal Bugeaud, calmly.
"Then, Monsieur, you all are lost!" was the bold answer. "This palace issurrounded by one hundred and sixty thousand men. The combat once begunmust be exterminating--must be a massacre! The 5th Legion of theNational Guard, to which I belong, is, at this moment, sacking thePalais Royal. It may be here before we part!"
"The troops shall retire, Monsieur," said the Duke; and on the instantorders for the retreat were issued.
The artillery went by the railing of the palace, and the staff and theDuke of Nemours by the Pavillon de l'Horloge, their well-trained horsesdescending the flight of steps. The cavalry followed, succeeded by theinfantry.
The National Guards were then introduced by Lieutenant Roche, andentered the court of the Tuileries by the gate of the Rue de Rivoli,their muskets shouldered, with the stock in the air. At the same momentthe abdication of the King was declared. General Lamoriciere hadresigned. The Ministry was dissolved. There was a tremendous shout, andthe conquerors of the Palais Royal rushed in to take possession of theTuileries!