Read La comtesse de Charny. English Page 6


  CHAPTER V.

  THE UNINVITED VISITORS.

  All day long a man in general's uniform was riding about the St.Antoine suburb, on a large Flanders horse, shaking hands right andleft, kissing the girls and treating the men to drink. This was one ofLafayette's half dozen heirs, the small-change of the commander of theNational Guard--Battalion Commander Santerre.

  Beside him rode, on a fiery charger, like an aid next his general, astout man who might by his dress be taken to be a well-to-do farmer. Ascar tracked his brow, and he had as gloomy an eye and scowling a faceas the battalion commander had an open countenance and frank smile.

  "Get ready, my good friends; watch over the nation, against whichtraitors are plotting. But we are on guard," Santerre kept saying.

  "What are we to do, friend Santerre?" asked the working-men. "You knowthat we are all your own. Where are the traitors? Lead us at them!"

  "Wait; the proper time has not come."

  "When will it strike?"

  Santerre did not know a word about it; so he replied at a hazard, "Keepready; we'll let you know."

  But the man who rode by his knee, bending down over the horse's neck,would make signs to some men, and whisper:

  "June twenty."

  Whereupon these men would call groups of twenty or so around each, andrepeat the date to them, so that it would be circulated. Nobody knewwhat would be done on the twentieth of June, but all felt sure thatsomething would happen on that day.

  By whom was this mob moved, stirred, and excited? By a man of powerfulbuild, leonine mane, and roaring voice, whom Santerre was to findwaiting in his brewery office--Danton.

  None better than this terrible wizard of the Revolution could evoketerror from the slums and hurl it into the old palace of Catherine diMedicis. Danton was the gong of riots; the blow he received he impartedvibratingly to all the multitude around him. Through Hebert he waslinked to the populace, as by the Duke of Orleans he was affixed to thethrone.

  Whence came his power, doomed to be so fatal to royalty? To the queen,the spiteful Austrian who had not liked Lafayette to be mayor of Paris,but preferred Petion, the Republican, who had no sooner brought backthe fugitive king to the Tuileries than he set to watch him closely.

  Petion had made his two friends, Manuel and Danton, the PublicProsecutor and the Vice, respectively.

  On the twentieth of June, under the pretext of presenting a petition tothe king and raising a liberty pole, the palace was to be stormed.

  The adepts alone knew that France was to be saved from the Lafayettesand the Moderates, and a warning to be given to the incorrigiblemonarch that there are some political tempests in which a vessel maybe swamped with all hands aboard; that is, a king be overwhelmed withthrone and family as in the oceanic abysses.

  Billet knew more than Santerre when he accompanied him on his tour,after presenting himself as from the committee.

  Danton called on the brewer to arrange for the meeting of the popularleaders that night at Charenton for the march on the morrow, presumablyto the House, but really to the Tuileries.

  The watchword was, "Have done with the palace!" but the way remainedvague.

  On the evening of the nineteenth, the queen saw a woman clad inscarlet, with a belt full of pistols, gallop, bold and terrible, alongthe main streets. It was Theroigne Mericourt, the beauty of Liege, whohad gone back to her native country to help its rebellion; but theAustrians had caught her and kept her imprisoned for eighteen months.

  She returned mysteriously to be at the bloody feast of the coming day.The courtesan of opulence, she was now the beloved of the people; fromher noble lovers had come the funds for her costly weapons, which werenot all for show. Hence the mob hailed her with cheers.

  From the Tuileries garret, where the queen had climbed on hearing theuproar, she saw tables set out in the public squares and wine broached;patriotic songs were sung and at every toast fists were shaken at thepalace.

  Who were the guests? The Federals of Marseilles, led by Barbaroux, whobrought with them the song worth an army--"the Marseillaise Hymn ofLiberty."

  Day breaks early in June. At five o'clock the battalions weremarshaled, for the insurrection was regularized by this time and had amilitary aspect. The mob had chiefs, submitted to discipline, and fellinto assigned places under flags.

  Santerre was on horseback, with his staff of men from the workingdistrict. Billet did not leave him, for the occult power of theInvisibles charged him to watch over him.

  Of the three corps into which the forces were divided, Santerrecommanded the first, St. Huruge the second, and Theroigne the last.

  About eleven, on an order brought by an unknown man, the immense massstarted out. It numbered some twenty thousand when it left the BastileSquare.

  It had a wild, odd, and horrible look.

  Santerre's battalion was the most regular, having many in uniform, andmuskets and bayonets among the weapons. But the other two were armedmobs, haggard, thin, and in rags from three years of revolutions andfour of famine.

  Neither had uniforms nor muskets, but tattered coats and smocks; quaintarms snatched up in the first impulse of self-defense and anger: pikes,cooking-spits, jagged spears, hiltless swords, knives lashed to longpoles, broad-axes, stone-masons' hammers and curriers' knives.

  For standards, a gallows with a dangling doll, meant for the queen; abull's head, with an obscene card stuck on the horns; a calf's hearton a spit, with the motto: "An Aristocrat's;" while flags showed thelegends: "Sanction the decrees, or death!"--"Recall the patrioticministers!"--"Tremble, tyrant; your hour has come!"

  At every crossing and from each by-way the army was swollen.

  The mass was silent, save now and then when a cheer burst from themidst, or a snatch of the "It shall go on" was sung, or cries went upof "The nation forever!"--"Long live the Breechless!"--"Down with OldVeto and Madame Veto!"

  They came out for sport--to frighten the king and queen, and did notmean murdering. They demanded to march past the Assembly throughthe Hall, and for three hours they defiled under the eyes of theirrepresentatives.

  It was three o'clock. The mob had obtained half their programme, theplacing of their petition before the Assembly. The next thing was tocall on the king for his sanction to the decree.

  As the Assembly had received them, how could the king refuse? Surely hewas not a greater potentate than the Speaker of the House, whose chairwas like his and in the grander place?

  In fact, the king assented to receiving their deputation of twenty.

  As the common people had never entered the palace, they merely expectedtheir representatives would be received while they marched by under thewindows. They would show the king their banners with the odd devicesand the gory standards.

  All the palace garden gates were closed; in the yards and gardenswere soldiers with four field-pieces. Seeing this apparently ampleprotection, the royal family might be tranquil.

  Still without any evil idea, the crowd asked for the gates to be openedwhich allowed entrance on the Feuillants Terrace.

  Three municipal officers went in and got leave from the king forpassage to be given over the terrace and out by the stable doors.

  Everybody wanted to go in as soon as the gates were open, and thethrong spread over the lawn; it was forgotten to open the outlet by thestables, and the crush began to be severe. They streamed before theNational Guards in a row along the palace wall to the Carrousel gates,by which they might have resumed the homeward route. They were lockedand guarded.

  Sweltering, crushed, and turned about, the mob began to be irritated.Before its growls the gates were opened and the men spread over thecapacious square.

  There they remembered what the main affair was--to petition the kingto revoke his veto. Instead of continuing the road, they waited in thesquare for an hour, when they grew impatient.

  They might have gone away, but that was not the aim of the agitators,who went from group to group, saying:

  "Stay; what do you want
to sneak away for? The king is going to givehis sanction; if we were to go home without that, we should have allour work to do over again."

  The level-headed thought this sensible advice, but at the same timethat the sanction was a long time coming. They were getting hungry, andthat was the general cry.

  Bread was not so dear as it had been, but there was no work going on,and however cheap bread may be, it is not made for nothing.

  Everybody had risen at five, workmen and their wives, with theirchildren, and come to the palace with the idea that they had but to getthe royal sanction to have hard times end. But the king did not seem tobe at all eager to give his sanction.

  It was hot, and thirst began to be felt. Hunger, thirst, and heat drivedogs mad; yet the poor people waited and kept patient. But those nextto the railings set to shaking them. A municipal officer made a speechto them:

  "Citizens, this is the king's residence, and to enter with arms is toviolate it. The king is quite ready to receive your petition, but onlyfrom twenty deputies bearing it."

  What! had not their deputation, sent in an hour ago, been attended toyet?

  Suddenly loud shouts were heard on the streets. It was Santerre,Billet, and Huruge on their horses, and Theroigne riding on her cannon.

  "What are you fellows hanging round this gate for?" queried Huruge."Why do you not go right in?"

  "Just so; why haven't we?" said the thousands.

  "Can't you see it is fast?" cried several voices.

  Theroigne jumped off her cannon, saying:

  "The barker is full to the muzzle; let's blow the old gate open."

  "Wait! wait!" shouted two municipal officers; "no roughness. It shallbe opened to you."

  Indeed, by pressing on the spring-catch they released the two gates,which drew aside, and the mass rushed through.

  Along with them came the cannon, which crossed the yard with them,mounted the steps, and reached the head of the stairs in their company.Here stood the city officials in their scarfs of office.

  "What do you intend doing with a piece of artillery?" they challenged."Great guns in the royal apartments! Do you believe anything is to begained by such violence?"

  "Quite right," said the ringleaders, astonished themselves to see thegun there; and they turned it round to get it down-stairs. The hubcaught on the jamb, and the muzzle gaped on the crowd.

  "Why, hang them all, they have got cannon all over the palace!"commented the new-comers, not knowing their own artillery.

  Police-Magistrate Mouchet, a deformed dwarf, ordered the men to chopthe wheel clear, and they managed to hack the door-jamb away so asto free the piece, which was taken down to the yard. This led to thereport that the mob were smashing all the doors in.

  Some two hundred noblemen ran to the palace, not with the hope ofdefending it, but to die with the king, whose life they deemed menaced.Prominent among these was a man in black, who had previously offeredhis breast to the assassin's bullet, and who always leaped like a lastLife-Guard between danger and the king, from whom he had tried toconjure it. This was Gilbert.

  After being excited by the frightful tumult, the king and queen becameused to it.

  It was half past three, and it was hoped that the day would close withno more harm done.

  Suddenly, the sound of the ax blows was heard above the noise ofclamor, like the howling of a coming tempest. A man darted into theking's sleeping-room and called out:

  "Sire, let me stand by you, and I will answer for all."

  It was Dr. Gilbert, seen at almost periodical intervals, and in all the"striking situations" of the tragedy in play.

  "Oh, doctor, is this you? What is it?" King and queen spoke together.

  "The palace is surrounded, and the people are making this uproar inwanting to see you."

  "We shall not leave you, sire," said the queen and Princess Elizabeth.

  "Will the king kindly allow me for an hour such power as a captain hasover his ship?" asked Gilbert.

  "I grant it," replied the monarch. "Madame, hearken to Doctor Gilbert'sadvice, and obey his orders, if needs must." He turned to the doctor:"Will you answer to me for the queen and the dauphin?"

  "I do, or I shall die with them; it is all a pilot can say in thetempest!"

  The queen wished to make a last effort, but Gilbert barred the way withhis arms.

  "Madame," he said, "it is you and not the king who run the realdanger. Rightly or wrongly, they accuse you of the king's resistance,so that your presence will expose him without defending him. Be thelightning-conductor--divert the bolt, if you can!"

  "Then let it fall on me, but save my children!"

  "I have answered for you and them to the king. Follow me."

  He said the same to Princess Lamballe, who had returned lately fromLondon, and the other ladies, and guided them to the Council Hall,where he placed them in a window recess, with the heavy table beforethem.

  The queen stood behind her children--Innocence protecting Unpopularity,although she wished it to be the other way.

  "All is well thus," said Gilbert, in the tone of a general commanding adecisive operation; "do not stir."

  There came a pounding at the door, which he threw open with both folds,and as he knew there were many women in the crowd, he cried:

  "Walk in, citizenesses; the queen and her children await you."

  The crowd burst in as through a broken dam.

  "Where is the Austrian? where is the Lady Veto?" demanded five hundredvoices.

  It was the critical moment.

  "Be calm," said Gilbert to the queen, knowing that all was in Heaven'shand, and man was as nothing. "I need not recommend you to be kind."

  Preceding the others was a woman with her hair down, who brandished asaber; she was flushed with rage--perhaps from hunger.

  "Where is the Austrian cat? She shall die by no hand but mine!" shescreamed.

  "This is she," said Gilbert, taking her by the hand and leading her upto the queen.

  "Have I ever done you a personal wrong?" demanded the latter, in hersweetest voice.

  "I can not say you have," faltered the woman of the people, amazed atthe majesty and gentleness of Marie Antoinette.

  "Then why should you wish to kill me?"

  "Folks told me that you were the ruin of the nation," faltered theabashed young woman, lowering the point of her saber to the floor.

  "Then you were told wrong. I married your King of France, and ammother of the prince whom you see here. I am a French woman, one whowill nevermore see the land where she was born; in France alone I mustdwell, happy or unhappy. Alas! I was happy when you loved me." And shesighed.

  The girl dropped the sword, and wept.

  "Beg your pardon, madame, but I did not know what you were like. I seeyou are a good sort, after all."

  "Keep on like that," prompted Gilbert, "and not only will you be saved,but all these people will be at your feet in an hour."

  Intrusting her to some National Guardsmen and the War Minister, whocame in with the mob, he ran to the king.

  Louis had gone through a similar experience. On hastening toward thecrowd, as he opened the Bull's-eye Room, the door panels were dashedin, and pikes, bayonets, and axes showed their points and edges.

  "Open the doors!" cried the king.

  Servants heaped up chairs before him, and four grenadiers stood infront, but he made them put up their swords, as the flash of steelmight seem a provocation.

  A ragged fellow, with a knife-blade set in a pole, darted at the king,yelling:

  "Take that for your veto!"

  One grenadier, who had not yet sheathed his sword, struck down thestick with the blade. But it was the king who, entirely recoveringself-command, put the soldier aside with his hand, and said:

  "Let me stand forward, sir. What have I to fear amid my people?"

  Taking a forward step, Louis XVI., with a majesty not expected in him,and a courage strange heretofore in him, offered his breast to theweapons of all sorts directed against
him.

  "Hold your noise!" thundered a stentorian voice in the midst of theawful din. "I want a word in here."

  A cannon might have vainly sought to be heard in this clamor, but atthis voice all the vociferation ceased. This was the butcher Legendre.He went up almost to touching the king, while they formed a ring roundthe two.

  Just then, on the outer edge of the circle, a man made his appearance,and behind the dread double of Danton, the king recognized Gilbert,pale and serene of face. The questioning glance implying: "What haveyou done with the queen?" was answered by the doctor's smile to theeffect that she was in safety. He thanked him with a nod.

  "Sirrah," began Legendre.

  This expression, which seemed to indicate that the sovereign wasalready deposed, made the latter turn as if a snake had stung him.

  "Yes, sir, I am talking to you, Veto," went on Legendre. "Just listento us, for it is our turn to have you hear us. You are a double-dealer,who have always cheated us, and would try it again, so look out foryourself. The measure is full, and the people are tired of being yourplaything and victim."

  "Well, I am listening to you, sir," rejoined the king.

  "And a good thing, too. Do you know what we have come here for? To askthe sanction of the decrees and the recall of the ministers. Here isour petition--see!"

  Taking a paper from his pocket, he unfolded it, and read the samemenacing lines which had been heard in the House. With his eyes fixedon the speaker, the king listened, and said, when it was ended, withoutthe least apparent emotion:

  "Sir, I shall do what the laws and the Constitution order me to do!"

  "Gammon!" broke in a voice; "the Constitution is your high horse, whichlets you block the road of the whole country, to keep France in-doors,for fear of being trampled on, and wait till the Austrians come up tocut her throat."

  The king turned toward this fresh voice, comprehending that it was aworse danger. Gilbert also made a movement and laid his hand on thespeaker's shoulder.

  "I have seen you somewhere before, friend," remarked the king. "Who areyou?"

  He looked with more curiosity than fear, though this man wore a frontof terrible resolution.

  "Ay, you have seen me before, sire. Three times: once, when you werebrought back from Versailles; next at Varennes; and the last time,here. Sire, bear my name in mind, for it is of ill omen. It is Billet."

  At this the shouting was renewed, and a man with a lance tried to stabthe king; but Billet seized the weapon, tore it from the wielder'sgrip, and snapped it across his knee.

  "No foul play," he said; "only one kind of steel has the right to touchthis man: the ax of the executioner! I hear that a King of England hadhis head cut off by the people whom he betrayed--you ought to know hisname, Louis. Don't you forget it."

  "'Sh, Billet!" muttered Gilbert.

  "Oh, you may say what you like," returned Billet, shaking his head;"this man is going to be tried and doomed as a traitor."

  "Yes, a traitor!" yelled a hundred voices; "traitor, traitor!"

  Gilbert threw himself in between.

  "Fear nothing, sire, and try by some material token to givesatisfaction to these mad men."

  Taking the physician's hand, the king laid it on his heart.

  "You see that I fear nothing," he said; "I received the sacraments thismorning. Let them do what they like with me. As for the material signwhich you suggest I should display--are you satisfied?"

  Taking the red cap from a by-stander, he set it on his own head. Themultitude burst into applause.

  "Hurrah for the king!" shouted all the voices.

  A fellow broke through the crowd and held up a bottle.

  "If fat old Veto loves the people as much as he says, prove it bydrinking our health."

  "Do not drink," whispered a voice. "It may be poisoned."

  "Drink, sire, I answer for the honesty," said Gilbert.

  The king took the bottle, and saying, "To the health of the people," hedrank. Fresh cheers for the king resounded.

  "Sire, you have nothing to fear," said Gilbert; "allow me to return tothe queen."

  "Go," said the other, gripping his hand.

  More tranquil, the doctor hastened to the Council Hall, where hebreathed still easier after one glance. The queen stood in the samespot; the little prince, like his father, was wearing the red cap.

  In the next room was a great hubbub; it was the reception of Santerre,who rolled into the hall.

  "Where is this Austrian wench?" demanded he.

  Gilbert cut slanting across the hall to intercept him.

  "Halloo, Doctor Gilbert!" said he, quite joyfully.

  "Who has not forgotten that you were one of those who opened theBastile doors to me," replied the doctor. "Let me present you to thequeen."

  "Present me to the queen?" growled the brewer.

  "You will not refuse, will you?"

  "Faith, I'll not. I was going to introduce myself; but as you are inthe way--"

  "Monsieur Santerre needs no introduction," interposed the queen. "Iknow how at the famine time he fed at his sole expense half the St.Antoine suburb."

  Santerre stopped, astonished; then, his glance happening to fall,embarrassed, on the dauphin, whose perspiration was running down hischeeks, he roared:

  "Here, take that sweater off the boy--don't you see he is smothering?"

  The queen thanked him with a look. He leaned on the table, and bendingtoward her, he said in an under-tone:

  "You have a lot of clumsy friends, madame. I could tell you of some whowould serve you better."

  An hour afterward all the mob had flowed away, and the king,accompanied by his sister, entered the room where the queen and hischildren awaited him.

  She ran to him and threw herself at his feet, while the childrenseized his hands, and all acted as though they had been saved from ashipwreck. It was only then that the king noticed that he was wearingthe red cap.

  "Faugh!" he said; "I had forgotten!"

  Snatching it off with both hands, he flung it far from him with disgust.

  The evacuation of the palace was as dull and dumb as the taking hadbeen gleeful and noisy. Astonished at the little result, the mob said:

  "We have not made anything; we shall have to come again."

  In fact, it was too much for a threat, and not enough for an attempt onthe king's life.

  Louis had been judged on his reputation, and recalling his flight toVarennes, disguised as a serving-man, they had thought that he wouldhide under a table at the first noise, and might be done to death inthe scuffle, like Polonius behind the arras.

  Things had happened otherwise; never had the monarch been calmer, neverso grand. In the height of the threats and the insults he had notceased to say: "Behold your king!"

  The Royalists were delighted, for, to tell the truth, they had carriedthe day.