Taking the Bastile (14 page)

90 TAKING THE BASTILLE

his hat. Upon the instant every one present followed his example. That morning no one knew the name of that young man; in the evening it was in every mouth, That young man’s name was Camille Desmoulms.

The two crowds recognised each other as friends; they fraternised, they embraced each other, and then the procession continued on its way. During the momentary halt we have jnst described, the curiosity of those who had not been able to discover, even by standing on tip-toe, what was going on, had overloaded Margot with an increasing burden. At the corner of the Rue Richelieu Billot cast a look behind him; Margot had disappeared.

The procession still moved on. Ail the shops were closed; but all the windows were open, and from every window issued cries of encouragement. In this way they reached the Place Vend6me. But on arriving there the procession was obstructed by an unforeseen obstacle; the popular army found a detachment of the Royal Germans on the Place Vendome. These foreign soldiers were dragoons, who, seeing an inundation streaming from the Rue St Honore, and which began to overflow the Place Vendome, loosened their horses’ reins, who, impatient at having been stationed there during five hours, at once galloped furiously forward, charging upon the people. The bearers of the bier received the first shock, and were thrown down beneath their burden. A Savoyard, who was walking before Billot, was the first to spring to his feet again, raised the effigy of the Duke of Orleans, and placing it on the top of a stick, held it above his head, crying I ‘Long live the Duke of Orleans I’ whom he had never seen; and ‘Long live Necker 1’ whom he did not know.

Billot was about to do a* much for the bust of Necker, but found himself forestalled. A young man, about twenty-four or twenty-five years old, and sufficiently well-dressed to deserve the title of a beau, had followed it with his eyes, and which he could do more easily than Billot, who was carrying it; and as soon as the bust had fallen to the ground, he had rushed towards it and seized upon it. The good farmer, therefore, vainly endeavoured to find it on the ground : the bust of Necker was already on the point of a sort of pike, and, side by side with that of the Duke of Orleans, rallied around them a good portion of the procession, Suddenly a great light illuminates the

WHAT WAS HAPPENING AT PARIS 91

square; at the same moment a violent explosion is heard; the balls whiz through the air; something heavy strikes Billot on the forehead; he falls. As his sensations had not abandoned him, and as, excepting a violent pain in the head, he felt no other injury. Billot comprehended that he was, even at the worst, but wounded. He presses his hand to his forehead, to ascertain the extent of damage he had received, and perceived at one and the same time that he had only a contusion on the head, and that his hand was streaming with blood. The elegantly-dressed young man who had supplanted Billot had received a ball full in his breast. It was he who had died. The blood on Billot’s hands was his. The blow which Billot had experienced was from the bust of Necker, which, losing its supporter, had fallen upon his head. Billot utters a cry, partly of anger, partly of terror. He draws back from the young man, who was convulsed in the agonies of death. Those who surrounded him also draw back; and the shout he had uttered, repeated by the crowd, is prolonged like a funeral echo by the groups assembled in the Rue St Honor6. This shout was a second rebellion. ! A second detonation was then heard; and immediately deep vacancies hollowed in the mass attested the passage of the murderous projectiles. To pick up the bust, the whole face of which was stained with blood; to raise it above his head, and protest against this outrage with his sonorous voice, at the risk of being shot down, as had been the handsome young man whose body was then lying at his feet, was what Billof s indignation prompted him to effect, and which he did in the first moment of his enthusiasm. But at the same instant a large and powerful hand was placed upon the farmer’s shoulder, and with so much vigour that he was compelled to bend down beneath hits weight. The farmer wishes to relieve himseli from this pressure; another hand, no less heavy than the first falls on his other shoulder. He turned round, reddening with anger, to ascertain what sort of antagonist he had to contend with.

‘Pi ton I* he exclaimed.

‘Yes, yes,’ replied Pi too. ‘Down I down I and you will soon see.’

And redoubling his efforts, he managed to drag with him to the ground the opposing farmer. No sooner had he forced Bulot to lie down flat upon the pavement, than

9 a TAKING THE BASTILLE

another discharge was heard. The Savoyard who was carrying the bust of the Duke of Orleans fell in his turn Then was heard the crushing of the pavement beneath the horses’ hoofs; then the dragoons charged a second time; a horse, with streaming mane, bounds over the unfortunate Savoyard, who feels the coldness of a lance penetrate his breast. He falls on Billot and Pitou. The tempest rushed onwards towards the end of the street, spreading, as it passed, terror and death. Dead bodies alone remained on the pavement of the square. All those who had formed the procession fled through the adjacent streets; a gloomy silence succeeds to the shouts of enthusiasm and the cries of anger. Billot waited a moment, still restrained by the prudent Pitou; then, feeling that the danger was becoming more distant with the noise, while Pitou, like a hare in its form, was beginning to raise, not his head, but his ears.

‘Well, Monsieur Billot said Pitou, ‘I think that you spoke truly, and that we have arrived here in the nick of time.’

‘Come, now, help me 1 The young dandy is dead as a door-nail; but the poor Savoyard, in my opinion, has only fainted. Help me to put him on my back. We cannot leave him here, to be finished by those damned Germans.’

Billot spoke a language which went straight to Pitou’s heart. He took up the fainting and bleeding body of the poor Savoyard, and threw him, as he would have done a sack, across the shoulders of the robust farmer; who, seeing that the Rue St Honor6 was free, and in all appearance deserted, advanced with Pitou towards the Palais Royal.

TK street had, in the first place, appeared empty and deserted to Billot and Pitou, because the dragoons, being engaged in the pursuit of the great body of the fugitives, had turned into the market of St Honore, and had followed them up the Rue Louis-le-Grand and the Rue Gaillon. But, as Billot advanced towards the Palais Royal, roaring instinctively, but in a subdued voice, the word ‘vengeance.’ men made their appearance at the corners of

NIGHT BETWEEN 12TH AND 13TH JULY 93

the streets, at the end of alleys, and from under the carriage gateways, who, at first, mute and terrified, looked around them; but being at length assured of the absence of the dragoons, brought up the rear of this funereal march, repeating, first in hollow whispers, but soon aloud, and finally with shouts, the word ‘Vengeance 1 vengeance 1 ‘ They arrived thus, in gloomy and fearful procession, upon the square before the Palais Royal, where a whole people, drunk with rage, was holding council, and soliciting the support of French soldiers against the foreigners.

‘Who are these men in uniform?’ inquired Billot, on arriving in front of a company who were standing with grounded arms, stopping the passage across the square, from the gate of the palace to the Rue de Chartres.

‘They are the French Guards 1’ cried several voices.

‘Ah I’ exclaimed Billot, approaching them, and showing them the body of the Savoyard, now a lifeless corpse ‘Ah ! you are Frenchmen, and you allow us to be murdered by these Germans 1 Did you not hear the -cries, the firing, the galloping of their horses ? ‘

‘Yes, yes, we did 1’ cried two or three hundred voices. ‘They were butchering the people on the Place Venddme P

‘And you are part of the people; by Heaven, you are 1’ cried Billot, addressing the soldiers. ‘It is cowardly in you to allow your brothers to be butchered.’

‘Cowardly 1’ exclaimed several threatening voices in the ranks.

‘Yes, cowardly ! I have said it, and I repeat the word. Come now,’ continued Billot, advancing towards the spot from whence these murmurs had proceeded, ‘will you not kill me, in order to prove that you are not cowards?’

‘That is all well,’ said one of the soldiers. ‘You are a brave fellow, my friend; but you are a citizen, and can do what you will; but a military man is a soldier, do you see, and he must obey orders.’

‘So that,’ replied Billot, ‘if you had received orders to fire upon us, you would fire : you who have succeeded the men of Fontenoy I you who gave the advantage to the English, by telling them to fire first 1’

‘As to me, I know that I would not fire, for one,’ said a voice from the ranks.

‘Nor I 1 nor 1 1’ repeated a hundred voices.

dragoons 1 the dragoons,’ cried several voices at

94 TAKING THE BASTILLE

the same time that the crowd, driven backwards, began to throng the square, flying by the Rue de Richelieu.

And there was heard the distant sound of the galloping of heavy cavalry upon the pavement, but which became louder at every moment.

‘To arms to arms I’ cried the fugitives,

‘A thousand gods !’ cried Billot, throwing the dead body of the Savoyard upon the ground, which he had till then held in his arms; give us your muskets, at least, if you will not yourselves make use of them.’

‘Well, then, yes; by a thousand thunders, we will make use of them I’ said the soldier to whom Billot had addressed himself, snatching out of his hand his musket, which the other had already seized. ‘Come, come 1 let us bite our cartridges, and if the Austrians have anything to say to these brave fellows, we shall see !’

‘Oh, thunder 1’ cried Billot, stamping his feet; ‘and to think that I have not brought my fowling-piece I But perhaps one of those rascally Austrians will be killed, and then 1 will take his carbine.’

‘In the meantime said a voice, ‘take this carbine; it is ready loaded.’

And at the same time an unknown man slipped a richly mounted carbine into Billot’s hands. At that instant the dragoons galloped into the square, riding down and sabring all that were in their way. The officer who commanded the French Guards advanced four steps. ‘Hallo I there, gentlemen dragoons,’ cried he, ‘halt there, if you please i’

Whether the dragoons did not hear, or whether they did not choose to hear, or whether they could not at once arrest the violent course of their horses, they rode across the square, making a half-wheel to the right, and ran over a woman and an old man, who disappeared beneath their horses’ heels.

‘Fire, then, fire 1’ cried Billot.

Billot was standing dose to the officer. It might have been thought that it was the latter who had given the word. The French Guards presented their guns, and fired a volley, which at once brought the dragoons to a stand. ‘Why, gentlemen of the Guards,’ said a German officer, advancing in front of his disordered squadron, ‘do you know that you are firing upon us?’

‘Do we not know it?’ cried Billot; and he fired at the officer, who fell from his horse.

NIGHT BETWEEN 18TH AND 13TH JULY 95

Then the French Guards fired a second volley, and the Germans, seeing that they had on this occasion to deal, not with plain citizens, who would fly at the first sabre cut, but with soldiers, who firmly waited their attack, turned to the right about, and galloped back to the Place Vend6me.

‘Long live the French Guards !’ cried the people.

‘Long live the soldiers of the country I’ cned Billot.

‘Thanks, ‘ replied the latter. ‘ We have smelt gunpowder, and we are now baptized.’

‘And I, too,’ said Pitou, ‘I have smelt gunpowder.’

‘And what do you think of it?’ inquired Billot.

‘Why, really, I do not find it so disagreeable as I had expected, replied Pitou.

But now,’ said Billot, who had had time to examine title carbine, and had ascertained that it was a weapon of some value, ‘but now, to whom belongs this gun?’

‘To my master,’ said the voice, which had already spoken behind him. ‘But my master thinks that you make too good use of it to take it back again.’

Billot turned round, and perceived a huntsman in the livery of the Duke of Orleans.

‘And where is your master?’ said he.

The huntsman pointed to a half-open Venetian blind, behind which the prince had been watching all that had passed.

‘Your master is then on our side?’ asked Billot.

‘With the people, heart and soul,’ replied the huntsman.

‘In that case, once more, ” Long live the Duke of Orleans I ”’ cried Billot. ‘My friends, the Duke of Orleans is with us. Long live the Duke of Orleans I’

And he pointed to the blind behind which the prince stood. Then the blind was thrown completely open, and the Duke of Orleans bowed three times. After which the blind was again closed.

‘Let us break open th* armouren’ shops I 1 cried a voice in the crowd.

‘Let us run to the Invalides !’ cried some old soldiers. ‘Sombreuil has twenty thousand muskets.’

‘To the Invalides I’

‘To the Town Hall I’ exclaimed several voices. ‘Flesselles, the provost of the merchants, has the key of the depot, in which the arnu of the Guards are kept. He will give them to us.’

96 TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘To the H6tel de Ville I’ cried a fraction of the crowd.

And the whole crowd dispersed, taking the three directions which had been pointed out. During this time, the dragoons had rallied round the Baron de Bezenval and the Prince de Lambesq, on the Place Louis XV. Of this Billot and Pitou were ignorant. They had not followed either of the three troops of citizens, and they found themselves almost alone in the square before the Palais Royal.

‘Well, dear Monsieur Billot, where are we to go next, if you please?’ said Pitou.

‘Why,’ replied Billot, ‘I should have desired to follow those worthy people; not to the gunmakers’ shops, since I have such a beautiful carbine, but to the Hotel de Ville, or to the Invalides. However, not having come to Paris to fight, but to find out the address of Dr Gilbert, it appears to me that I ought to go to the College of Louis-le-Grand, where his son now is; and then, after having seen the doctor, why, we can throw ourselves again into this fighting business.’ And the eyes of the farmer flashed lightnings.