Taking the Bastile (13 page)

The name of Cadet at once dispelled all Pitou ‘s suspense.

‘Ah 1’ cried he, turning himself round, so that instead of lying upon his face he lay upon his back ‘Ah 1 I hear the voice of Monsieur Billot I

It was, in fact, Goodman Billot. When Pitou was well assured of his identity, he assumed a sitting posture. The farmer, on his side, had pulled up Cadet, covered with flakes of foam.

‘Ah 1 dear Monsieur Billot,’ exclaimed Pitou, ‘how kind it is of you to ride in this way after me. I swear to you I should have returned to the farm after having expended the double-louis Mademoiselle Catherine gave me. But, since you are here, take back your double-louis for of course it must be yours and let us return to the farm.’

‘A thousand devils 1’ exclaimed Billot ‘who was thinking of the farm ? where are the mouchards ? ‘

‘The mouchards ? ‘ inquired Pitou, who did not cotnpre-nend the meaning of this word, which had only just been admitted into the vocabulary of our language.

‘Yes, the mouckards, rejoined Billot the men in black? Do you not understand me?’

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‘ Ah 1 the men in black I You will readily understand, my dear Monsieur Billot, that I did not amuse myself by waiting for them.’

‘BravoT You have left them behind, then?’

‘Why, I flatter myself, after the race I have run, it was to be expected, as it appears to me.’

‘Then, if you were so sure of vour affair, what the devil made you run at such a rate?’

‘Because 1 thought it was their chief, who, not to be outwitted, was pursuing me on horseback.’

‘Well, well 1 You are not quite so simple as I thought you. Then, as the road is clear, up, up, and away for Dammar tin I’

‘We are going, then, to Dammartin?’

‘Yes. I will borrow a horse there, of old Lefranc. I will leave Cadet with him, for he can go no farther; and to-night we will push on to Paiis. Come, then, upl up I’

Pitou made an effort to obey him.

‘I should much wish to do as you desire said he; ‘but, my dear Monsieur Billot, I cannot.’

‘But, just now, you could manage to turn round.’

‘Oh, just now ! that was by no means astonishing. I heard your voice, and at the same moment I received a swinging cut across the back. But such things can only succeed once. At present, I am accustomed to your voice; and as to your whip, I feel well assured that you can only apply it to managing our poor Cadet, who is almost as heated as I am.’

Pitou’s logic persuaded, and even affected the farmer.

‘I have not time to sympathise in your fate,’ said he to Pitou; ‘but come now, make an effort and get up behind me.’

‘Why,’ said Pitou, ‘that would be, indeed, the way to founder Cadet at once, poor beast !’

‘Pooh 1 in half an hour we shall be at old Lefranc’s.’

‘But it appears to me, dear Monsieur Billot,’ said Pitou, ‘that it would be altogether useless for me to go with you to old Lefranc’s. You may have business at Dammartin, I have no business there not I.’

‘But I want you to come to Paris with me. In Paris you will be of use to me. You have good stout fists; and I am certain it will not be long before hard knocks will be given there.’

‘Ah 1 ah I’ cried Pitou, not much delighted with this prospect; ‘do you believe that?’

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And he managed to get on Cadet’s back; Billot dragging him up as he would a sack of flour. The good farmer soon got on the high road again, and so well managed his bridle, whip, and spurs, that in less than half an hour they reached Dammartin. He soon arrived at Father Lefranc’s farmhouse; and leaving Pitou and Cadet in the middle of the farmyard, he ran straight to the kitchen, where Father Lefranc, who was setting out to take a turn round his fields, was buttoning on his gaiters.

‘Quick 1 quick 1 my friend,’ cried Billot, before Lefranc had recovered from the astonishment which his arrival had produced ‘the strongest horse you have.’

‘That is Margot,’ replied Lefranc; ‘and fortunately she is already saddled : I was going out.’

‘Well, Margot be it, then; only, it is possible I may founder her, and of that I forewarn you.’

‘What, founder Margot 1 and why so, I ask?’

‘Because it is necessary that I should be in Paris this very night.’ And he made a masonic sign to Lelranc.

‘Well, founder Margot, it you will,’ said old Lefranc; ‘you shall give me Cadet, if you do.’

‘Agreed.’

‘A glass of wine?’

‘Two.’

‘But it seemed to me that you were not alone?’

‘No; I have a worthy lad there whom I am taking with me, and who is so fatigued that he had not the strength to come in here. Send out something to him.’

‘Immediately, immediately,’ said the farmer.

In ten minutes, the two old comrades had each managed to soak in a bottle of good wine; and Pitou had bolted a two-pound loaf with half a pound of bacon. Pitou also had some wine given him, after which Billot mounted Margot, and Pitou, stiff as a pair of compasses, was lifted on behind him.

IT is eight leagues from Dammartin to Paris. The four first leagues xvere tolerably well got over; but after they reached Bourget, poor Margof s legs at length began to grow somewhat stiff. Night was closing in. On arriving

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at La Villette, Billot thought he perceived a great light extending over Paris. He made Pitou observe the red light, which rose above the horizon.

‘You do not see, then said Pitou to him, ‘that there are troops bivoucking, and that they have lighted their ares.’

And, in fact, on examining attentively, Father Billot saw, on looking to the right, that the plain of St Denis was dotted over with black-looking detachments of infantry and cavalry, which were marching silently in the darkness. Their arms glistened occasionally with the pale reflection of the stars. Pitou, whose nocturnal excursions in the woods had accustomed him to see clearly in the dark Pitou pointed out to his master pieces of artillery, which had sunk up to the axles in the middle of the muddy plain.

‘Oh 1 oh !’ cried Billot, ‘there is something new up yonder, then 1 Let us make haste 1 Let us make haste 1 ‘

‘Yes, yes; there is a fire out yonder said Pitou, who had raised himself on Margof s back. ‘Look 1 look 1 Do you not see the sparks?’

Margot stopped. Billot jumped off her back, and approaching a group of soldiers in blue and yellow uniform, who were bivouacking under the trees by the road side,

‘Comrades said he to them ‘can you tell me what there is going on at Paris ?’

But the soldiers merely replied to him by oaths, which they uttered in the German language.

‘What the devil is it they say ?’ inquired Billot, addressing Pitou.

‘It is not Latin, dear Monsieur Billot replied Pitou trembling; ‘and that is all I can affirm to you

Billot reflected, and looked again; and in his curiosity he remained motionless in the middle of the road. An officer went up to him.

‘Bass on your roat said he : ‘bass on quickly

‘Your pardon, captain,’ replied Billot; ‘but I am going to Paris

‘Veil, mein Gott; vot den?’

‘And as I see that you are drawn up across the road, I fear that we cannot get through the barriers

‘You can get drough

And Billot remounted his mare, and went on. But it was only to fall in the midst of the Bercheur Hussars, who encumbered the street of La Villette. This time he

WHAT WAS HAPPENING AT PARIS 87

had to deal with his own countrymen. He questioned them with more success.

‘Sir,’ said he, ‘what has there happened at Paris, if you please?’

‘That your headstrong Parisians,’ replied the hussar, ‘will have their Necker; and they are firing musket-shots at us, as if we had anything to do with the matter.’

‘Have Necker 1’ exclaimed Billot. ‘They had lost him, then?’

‘Assuredly, since the king had dismissed him.’

‘The king has dismissed him I’ exclaimed Billot, with the stupefaction of a devotee calling out against a sacrilege: ‘the king has dismissed that great man?’

‘Oh 1 in faith he has, my worthy sir; and more than that, -this great man is now on his road to Brussels.’

‘Well, then, in that case we shall see some fun,’ cried Billot, without caring for the danger he was incurring by thus preaching insurrection in the midst of twelve or fifteen hundred royalist sabres. And he again mounted Margot, spurring her on with cruel violence, until he reached the bamer.

As he advanced, he perceived that the fire was increasing and becoming redder. It was the barrier itself that was burning. A howling, furious mob, in which there were many women, and who, as usual, threatened and vociferated more loudly than the men, were feeding the fire with pieces of wainscoting, and chairs and tables, and other articles of furniture. Upon the road were Hungarian and German regiments, who, leaning upon their grounded arms, were looking on with vacant eyes at this scene of devastation. Billot did not allow this rampart of flames to arrest his progress. He spurred on Margot through the fire. Margot rushed through the flaming ruins; but when she had reached the inner side of the barrier she was obliged to stop, being met by a crowd of people coming from the centre of the city, towards the suburbs. Some of them were singing, others shouting, ‘To arms I’

Billot went on pushing through the crowd, pulling Margot first to the right, and then to the left, twisting and turning in every direction, until they reached the Boulevard; but having got thus far he was obliged to stop. A procession was then passing, coming trom the Bastille, and going towards the place called the Garde

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Meuble. This procession, which obstructed the whole of the Boulevard, was following a bier; on this bier were borne two busts; the one veiled with black crape, and other crowned with flowers. The bust covered with black crape was that of Necker, a minister who had not been disgraced, but dismissed. The one crowned with flowers was that of the Duke of Orleans, who had openly espoused at court the party of the Genevese economists. Billot immediately inquired what was the meaning of this procession. He was informed that it was a popular homage paid to M. Necker and to his defender, the Duke of Orleans.

Billot had been born in a part of the country where the name of a Duke of Orleans had been venerated for a century and a half. Billot belonged to the new sect of philosophers, and considered Necker not only as a great minister, but as an apostle of humanity. This was more than sufficient to excite Billot. He jumped off his horse, without being exactly aware of what he was about to do, shouting, ‘Long live the Duke of Orleans I long live Necker T’ and he then mingled with the crowd. The mob kept on vociferating most strenuously, ‘Long live Necker I no more foreign troops I Down with the foreign troops 1’

Billot mingled his stentorian voice with all these voices. A superiority, be it of whatsoever nature it may, is always appreciated by the people. The Parisian of the suburbs, with his faint hoarse voice, enfeebled by inanition or worn out by drinking, duly appreciated the full, rich, and sonorous voice of Billot, and readily made way for him, so that without being too much elbowed. Billot at length managed to get close up to the bier. About ten minutes after this, one of the bearers, whose enthusiasm had been greater than his strength, yielded his place to Billot. But he had scarcely attained this post when an idea crossed his mind.

‘What had become of Pitou what had become of Margot ? ‘

Though carefully bearing bis portion of the bier, he gave a glance behind him, and by the light of the torches which accompanied the procession, he perceived in the midst of the procession a sort of ambulating eminence, .formed of five or six men, who were gesticulating and nhouting. Amidst these gesticulations and shouts it was easy to distinguish the voice and recognise the long arms

WHAT WAS HAPPENING AT PARIS 89

of his follower, Pitou. Pitou was doing all he could to protect Margot; but despite all his efforts Margot had been invaded. Margot no longer bore Billot and Pitou. a very honourable and sufficient burden for the poor animal. Five or six furious fellows had taken possession of Margot’s broad back, vociferating, ‘Long live Necker !’ ‘Long live the Duke of Orleans I’ ‘Down with the foreigners I* to which Pitou replied, ‘You will break Margot’s back I’

Billot for a moment entertained the idea of rushing to the aid of Pitou and poor Margot; but he reflected that if he should only for a moment resign the honour of carrying one of the corners of the bier, he-would not be able to regain his triumphal post. Then, he reflected that by the barter he had agreed to with old Lefranc, that of giving him Cadet for Margot, Margot belonged to him, and that, should any accident happen to Margot, it was, after all, but an affair of some three or four hundred livres, and that he, Billot, was undoubtedly rich enough to make the sacrifice for his country. During this time the procession kept on advancing; it had moved obliquely to the left, and had gone down the Rue Montmartre to the Place des Victoires. When it reached the Palais Royal some great impediment prevented its passing on. A troop of men with green leaves in their hats were shouting ‘To arms !’

It was necessary to reconnoitre. Were these men who blocked up the Rue Vivienne friends or enemies? Green was the colour of the Count d’Artois. Why, then, these green cockades? After a minute’s conference all was explained. On learning the dismissal of Necker, a young man had issued from the Cafe Foy, had jumped upon a table in the garden of the Palais Royal, and, taking a pistol from his breast, had cried, ‘To arms !’ On heanng this cry, all the persons who were walking there had assembled round him, and had shouted, ‘To arms 1’

We have already said that all the foreign regiments had been collected around Paris. One might have imagined that it was an invasion by the Austrians. The young man named these regiments; he announced that the Swiss were encamped in the Champs Elysees, with four pieces of artillery, and that they were to enter Paris the same night, preceded by the dragoons, commanded by Prince Lambesq. He proposed a new cockade which was not theirs, snatched a leaf from a chestnut tree and placed it in the band of