Taking the Bastile (17 page)

‘Child,’ said he, ‘what is the last word your father wrote to you?’

‘ Vork,’ replied Sebastian.

‘Well, then, work here. We are going to work down yonder; only our work is called destroying and killing.’

The young man did not utter a word in reply. He hid his face with both hands, without even pressing the hand of Pitou, who embraced him; and he fell into such violent convulsions, that he was immediately carried into the infirmary attached to the college.

‘To the Bastille!’ cried Billot.

‘To the Bastille I’ cried Pitou.

‘To the Bastille !’ shouted the crowd.

no TAKING THE BASTILLE

BILLOT still walked on, but it was no longer he who shouted. The crowd, delighted with his martial air, recognised in this man one of their own class; commenting on his words and action, they followed him, still increasing like the waves of the incoming tide. Behind Billot marched more than three thousand men, armed, with cutlasses, or pikes, or guns. They all cried, “To the Bastille ! to the Bastille 1’

Billot counselled with his own thoughts. The enterprise was sublime, but insensate : he was only the more strengthened in his resolution. Billot began by leading his little army on to the square in front of the H6tel de Ville.

‘Let ns see,’ thought Billot, ‘there is a power in France there are even two there are even three.

He entered the H6tel de Ville, asking who was the chief of the municipality. He was told it was the Provost of the Merchants, the Mayor of Paris, Monsieur de Flesselles. Billot ascended the staircase of the HAtel de Ville. In the ante-chamber he met an usher.

‘I wish to speak with Monsieur Flesselles,’ said he, perceiving that the usher was approaching him to ask him what he wanted.

‘Impossible I’ replied the usher; ‘he is now occupied in drawing up the Lists of a militia force which the city is about to organise.’

‘That falls out marvellously wen,’ observed Billot, ‘for I also am organising a militia, and as I have already three thousand men enlisted, I am as good as Monsieur de Flesselles, who has not a single soldier yet afoot. Enable me, therefore, to speak with Monsieur de Flesselles, and that instantly. Oh 1 look out of the window, if you will.’

The usher had, in fact, cast a rapid glance upon the quays, and had perceived Billot’s men. He therefore hastened to inform the mayor, to whom he showed the three thousand men in question, as a postscript to his message. This inspired the provost with a sort of respect for the person who wished to see him : he left the council room and went into the ante-chamber, looking about fot

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his visitor. He perceived Billot, guessed that he was the person, and smiled.

‘It was you who were asking forme, was it not?’ said he.

‘You are Monsieur de Flesselles, Provost of the Merchants, I believe?’ replied Billot.

‘Yes, sir. In what way can I be of service to you? Only speak quickly, for my mind is much occupied.’

‘Good Monsieur Provost,’ continued Billot, ‘how many powers are there in France?’

‘Why, that is as people may choose to understand it, my dear sir,’ replied Flesselles.

‘Say it, then, as you yourself understand it.’

‘Were you to consult Monsieur Bailly, he would tell you there is but one, the National Assembly; if you consult Monsieur de Dreux Breze, he would also tell you there is but one the king.’

‘And you. Monsieur Provost of these two opinions which is yours?’

‘My own opinion, and above all at the present moment is, that there is but one.’

‘The assembly or the king?’ demanded Billot.

‘Neither the one nor the other it is the nation,’ replied Flesselles, playing with the frill of his shirt.

‘You may perhaps be right. Monsieur de Flesselles.’

‘To which of these three powers do you think of appealing, sir?’ asked Flesselles.

‘Upon my faith,’ said Billot, ‘I believe that when one has anything very important to ask, a man had better address himself at once to God and not to his saints.’

‘Which means to say that you are about to address yourself to the king. Would it be indiscreet to inquire what it is you think of asking of him?’

‘The liberation of Doctor Gilbert, who is in the Bastille.’

‘Doctor Gilbert?’ solemnly asked M. de Flesselles; I think you stand but a poor chance of obtaining what you desire from the king.’

‘And why so?”

‘In the first place, because, if the king sent Doctor Gilbert to the Bastille, he must have had reasons for so doing.’

“Tis well,’ replied Billot, ‘he shall give me his reasons on the subject, and I will give him mine.’

‘My dear Monsieur Billot, the king is just now very busy, tad he would not even receive you,’

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‘ Oh 1 if he does not receive me, I shall find some means of getting in without his permission.’

‘Yes; and when you have once got in, you will find there Monsieur de Dreux Breze, who will have you shoved out of doors.’

‘Very well; then I will apply to the Assembly.’

‘The road to Versailles is intercepted.’

‘I will go there with my three thousand men.’

‘Take care, my dear sir. You would find on your road some four or five thousand Swiss soldiers and two or three thousand Austrians, who would make only a mouthful of you and your three thousand men. In the twinkling of an eye you would be swallowed.’

‘Ah I the devil I What ought I to do then?’

‘Do what you please; but do me the service to take away your three thousand men who are beating the pavement yonder with their pikes, and who are ; smoking. There are seven or eight thousand pounds of powder in our cellars here. A single spark might blow us all up.’

‘In that case, I think, I will neither address myself to the king nor to the National Assembly. I will address myself to the nation, and we will take the Bastille.’

‘And with what?’

‘With the eight thousand pounds of powder that you are going to give me, Monsieur Provost.’

‘Ah, really 1’ said Flesselles, in a jeering tone.

‘It is precisely as I say. sir.’ And seizing Flesselles by the collar of his coat with both hands ‘The keys,’ cried he, ‘or I call up my men.’

Flesselles turned as pale as death; but when he spoke his voice was in no way agitated, and he did not even change his ironical tone he had assumed.

‘In fact, sir,’ said he, ‘you are doing me a great service by relieving me from the charge of this powder. I will therefore order the keys to be delivered to you, as you desire.’ Only please not to forget that I am your first magistrate, and that if you have the misfortune to conduct yourself towards me before others in the way you have done when alone with me, an hour afterwards you would be hanged by the town guards. You insist on having this powder ? ‘

‘I insist,’ replied Billot.

‘Let us understand each other then. I have business which will detain me here about a quarter of an hour, and

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should rather like that the distribution should not be commenced until I have left the place; I acknowledge that I have a very decided repugnance to being blown into the air.’

‘Be it so. In a quarter of an hour, then. But now, in my turn, I have a request to make.’

‘What is it?’

‘Let us both go close up to that window.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘You shall see.’

Billot took the provost to the window, which was open, and called out to his friends in the square below, ‘My friends,’ said he, ‘ you still wish to take the Bastille, do you not?’

‘ Yes yes yes 1 ‘ shouted three or four thousand voices.

‘But you want gunpowder, do you not?’

‘Yes 1 gunpowder !’ gunpowder 1’

‘Well, then, here is his honour the provost, who is willing to give you all he has in the cellars of the H6tel de ViHe. Thank him for it, my friends.’

‘Long live the Provost of the Merchants ! Long live Monsieur de Flesselles !’ shouted the whole crowd.

‘Thanks, my friends: thanks for myself thanks for him cried Billot.

Then, turning towards the provost : ‘And now, sir,’ said Billot, ‘it is no longer necessary that I should take you by the collar, while here alone with you, or before all the world; for if you do not give me the gunpowder, the nation, as you call it, the nation will tear you to pieces.’

‘Here are the keys, sir,’ said the provost. ‘You have so persuasive a mode of asking, that it does not even admit a refusal.’

‘What you say really encourages me,’ said Billot

‘The deuce 1 Can you have anything else to ask of me?’

‘Yes. Are you acquainted with the Governor of the Bastille?’

‘Monsieur de Launay? He is a friend of mine.’

‘In that case, you must desire that no misfortune should happen to him. Well, then, the way to prevent any misfortune happening to him is, that he should surrender the Bastille to me, or, at all events, liberate the doctor.’

‘You do not imagine, surely, that I should have influence enough with him to induce him to surrender to you either his prisoner or his fortress, do you?’

H4 TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘That is my affair. All that I ask is, that yon will give me an introduction to him.’

‘Then I will give you your permission to go into the Bastille, but on condition that you will not come to me again to-morrow, and ask me for a passport to the moon. I forewarn you that I am not acquainted with any one in those regions.’

‘Flesselles ! Flesselles I’ said a hollow and threatening voice from behind the Provost of the Merchants, ‘if you continue to wear two faces the one which laughs with the aristocrats, the other which smiles upon the people yon will, perhaps, receive, between this and to-morrow morning, a passport for a world from which no one returns

The provost turned round, shuddering.

‘Who is it that speaks thus?’ said he.

“Tis I-^Iaraf

‘Marat, the philosopher I Marat, the physician 1’ exclaimed Billot.

‘Yea,’ replied the same voice.

‘Yet Marat, tho philosopher; Marat, the physician,’ repeated Flesselles; who, in this last capacity, ought to attend to curing coughs, which would have been a sure means of now having a goodly number of patients.’

‘Monsieur de Flesselles,’ replied the lugubrious inter-locutor, ‘this worthy citizen has asked you for a passport which will facilitate his seeing Monsieur de Launay. I would observe to you. that Dot only is he waiting for you but that three thousand men are waiting for him.’

“Tis well, sir; be shall soon have it.’

Flesselles went to a table, passed one hand over his brow, and with the other seizing a pen, he rapidly wrote several lines.

‘Her* is your safe conduct said he, delivering the paper to Billot.

‘Let me read it,’ said Marat.

This passport was conceived in the following terms :

‘M. GOTORNO*. We, Provost of the Merchants of tho city of Paris, send to you M. Billot, in order to concert with you as to the interests of the said city.

‘ Mth J uly , 1 789. DB FLBSSELLKS.’

‘Good.’ said Billot, ‘five it to me.’

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‘Stop a minute,’ said Marat. “The provost is going to add a postscript to h, which will make it better.’

And he went up to Flesselles, who had remained standing, his hand on the table, and who looked with a disdainful air at the two men with whom he was so particularly engaged, and a third one, half naked, who had just presented himself at the door, leaning upon a musketoon. It was Pitou, who had followed Billot, and who held himself ready to obey the farmer’s orders, be they what they might.

‘Sir,’ said Marat to Flesselles, ‘the postscript which you are about to add, and which will render the passport so much better, is the following.’

‘Say on, Monsieur Marat.’

‘The citizen Billot,’ said Marat, ‘having the character of bearer of a flag of truce, I confide his care to your honour.’

Flesselles looked at Marat, as if he would rather have smashed his fiat face with his fist than do that which he had requested,

‘Would you resist, sir?’ demanded Marat.

4 No,’ replied Flessellea, ‘for, after all, you only aak me what is strictly right.’

And he wrote the postscript demanded of him.

‘However, gentlemen, you will be pleased to well observe this, that I do not answer for the safety of Monsieur Billot’

‘And I I win be answerable for it,’ said Marat, jerking the paper out of his hands; for your liberty is the guarantee of his liberty your head for the safety of his head. Here, worthy Billot,’ continued Marat, ‘her* is your passport.’

Pitou made way for the provoat to pass by him.

‘Perhaps you were wrong in allowing that man to go,’ said Marat. ‘He would have been a good hostage to nave kept. But, in any case, let him go where he will, you may feel perfectly assured that I will find him again.’

‘Labrie,’ said the Provost of the Merchants, as he was getting into his carriage, ‘they are going to distribute powder here. Should the Hotel do VUle perchance blow up, I should like to be out of the way of the splinters.’

The carriage rattled through the gateway, and appeared upon the square, on which were growling some four or five thousand persons. Flessellea, afraid that they might

Ii6 TAKING THE BASTILLE

misinterpret his departure, leaned half-way out of the door.

‘To the National Assembly,’ cried he, in a loud voice, to the coachman. This drew upon him from the crowd a loud and continued outburst of applause. Marat and Billot were on the balcony, and had neard the last words of Flesselles.

‘My head against his,’ said Marat, ‘that he is not going to the National Assembly, but to the king.’

‘Would it not be well to have him stopped?’ said Billot.

‘No,’ replied Marat, with his hideous smile; ‘make yourself easy; however quickly he may go, we shall go still quicker than he. But now for the gunpowder.’

‘Yes, to the gunpowder,’ said Billot.