CHAPTER V

The morning of the 27th--Joubert--Charles Teste--_La Petite-Jacobinière_--Chemist Robinet--The arms used in _Sergent Mathieu_--Pillage of an armourer's stores--The three Royal Guards--A tall and fair young man--Oudard's fears

I was awakened, as on the 26th, by Achille Comte.

"Well?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Oh, it is going ahead!" he said. "The Quartier des Écoles is in a state of open insurrection, but the students are furious."

"Against whom?"

"Against the principal leaders--Laffitte, Casimir Périer and La Fayette.... They called upon these persons yesterday: one told them to keep quiet, whilst others did not even see them.... But Barthélemy and Méry will give you full details; they were there, with their pockets full of gunpowder which they had bought of a grocer."

I dressed, took a carriage to go and call on my mother and found her as calm as if nothing extraordinary was happening in Paris. I had given orders that she should be kept in ignorance, and they had been carefully executed. When I left my mother, I drove to Godefroy Cavaignac, who lived in the rue de Sèvres. He had gone out, but I was told I should find him either at Joubert's the bookseller's, in the passage Dauphine, or at Charles Teste's, at _la Petite-Jacobinière_, in the place de la Bourse.

Joubert, who was afterwards aide-de-camp to La Fayette, I believe lieutenant-colonel, was a former Carbonaro and a friend of Carrel; condemned to death as the latter was, after the affair of Béfort, he had escaped from the prisons of Perpignan by the help of a nun and two of his friends, Fabre and Corbière.

Charles Teste, whom we all knew well, had built a bookshop in the place de la Bourse, which was dubbed with the expressive name of _Petite-Jacobinière_, because of the opinions of those who frequented it. Charles Teste was one of the worthiest and noblest characters it was possible to meet with. Being poor, he had quarrelled with his richer brothers. During the reign of Louis-Philippe he would not take up any profession, and goodness knows how he managed to live! When his brother was condemned by the Court of Peers, he placed himself entirely at his disposition, and became his support and comfort and strength. Then, after the Revolution of 1848, all his old friends came in to power, but he declined the posts that were offered to him, and the only favour he asked was that his brother might be removed from prison to a sanatorium. Charles Teste died, I think, eighteen months or two years ago; when he drew his last breath France lost one of her greatest citizens.

I drove first to the passage Dauphine, but Cavaignac had been there and had gone out with Bastide, and it was thought that both had gone to _la Petite-Jacobinière._ So I dismissed my cab, as I had a call to make at No. 7 rue de l'Université. Here I had drawn no preventive cordon, as in the case of my mother, and everything was known. I promised to regard things from a spectator's standpoint and not to mix myself up in the disturbance: on those conditions, I was allowed leave.

There was a large gathering in the rue de Beaune, at the house of a chemist whose name was Robinet; it was composed of electors and members of the National Guard of the 10th and 11th Arrondissement. All they wanted was to start out on the warpath, but no one possessed arms.

"No arms?" asked Étienne Arago, who entered at this juncture. "If you have no arms, there are plenty to be had at the armourers'!"

It was known at the _National_ offices and at _la Petite-Jacobinière_ that a meeting was going on in Robinet's house, and they had sent Arago as a deputy. He had not wasted his time since the morning.

"No arms!" was the general cry at the _Petite-Jacobinière_ as elsewhere.

_Le Sergent Mathieu_ was then being played at the Vaudeville theatre, and, consequently, there were about a score or so of rifles, swords and powder-wallets lying among the property stores. Gauja and Étienne ran off to the Vaudeville and put the weapons in wicker baskets which they covered with sheets; they recruited porters and scene-shifters, whilst they followed the procession, clad beneath their long coats in the uniform of officers of the Imperial Guard. The place du Palais-Royal was crowded with troops. A captain stepped out of the ranks and asked the commissionaires: "What are you carrying there?"

"A wedding breakfast from Parly, Captain," Arago replied.

The captain began to laugh: the points of the swords and bayonets were sticking through the basketwork. But he only turned his back on what he saw, and returned to the ranks. Guns, swords and powder-flasks arrived safely at _la Petite-Jacobinière_, where they were distributed. It was as a consequence of this distribution of arms that Étienne had been sent to Robinet's.

"At his words, "If you have no arms, there are plenty at the armourers'!" everybody went out. Étienne ran to the nearest armourer with Gauja and a man named Lallemand. The armourer lived in the rue de l'Université. When I had pointed out to Étienne his shop, which was on the left side of the rue de Beaune, I turned to the right, to fetch my own gun. Étienne and Lallemand rushed in to the armourer's shop, which was just being closed. Étienne was more lucky with the armourer than he had been the previous day with the Superintendent of Police, and he managed to enter the shop.

"My friend," he said, "do not be alarmed; we have not come to seize your arms, but to purchase them."

He took five or six rifles, and kept one for himself, one for Gauja and one for Lallemand, giving away the remainder. Then he emptied his pockets, which contained 320 francs and, for the surplus expenditure, he gave a draft on his brother François, of the Observatoire, who paid religiously. Lallemand endorsed the bill. This Lallemand was a well educated and highly cultivated young fellow whom we nicknamed _le Docteur_, because he always talked so much Latin. I make this explanation in order to avoid confusion with Professor Lallemand. They also took powder and bullets from the same armourer and, as we shall see, it was not long before they were required.

I had gone back home, called my servant Joseph and told him to put me out my complete shooting costume. It was the most suitable and convenient for the form of exercise to which we were going to apply our energies; also, more important still, it was the least conspicuous. I was half-way through my toilet when I heard a great uproar in the rue du Bac and rushed to my window: it came from Étienne Arago and Gauja, who were calling the people to arms. It will be remembered that I lived above the café Desmares; but I forgot to mention that three of my windows looked into the rue du Bac. At that moment, two mounted policemen appeared from the bridge side, at the entrance of the street. Why had they come there? What chance had brought them? We did not know at all. When the crowd which filled the street caught sight of them, loud cries were set up. Thereupon, the policemen seemed to confer together; but, if they hesitated, it was only for a moment: they took their bridles between their teeth, drew their sabres in one hand and held their pistols in the other. The crowd was unarmed and ran into side alleys or open shops or made off down the rue de Lille. Arago and Gauja hid in corners of the street: one of them (I do not know which) cried to the other--

"Come! it is time to begin!"

At the same moment, the two policemen pounced upon them at full gallop. Two reports and flashes of firing came simultaneously from Étienne and Gauja. Both had aimed at the same man and he fell pierced by both bullets. They rushed to the gendarme stretched on the ground. He was dying. The other policeman turned back. The riderless horse went its own way and disappeared down the rue du Bac. They took his sabre, pistol and powder-box from him and carried him to la Charité. When it was seen that a wounded policeman was being brought into the hospital and they learnt that he had been wounded because he charged at the people, the patients were for finishing him off.

The spirit of revolution had actually penetrated into the hospitals!

Meanwhile, I had put on my jacket, picked up my gun, game-bag and powder-horn, stuffed my pockets with shot and I gone downstairs. Arago and Gauja had both disappeared. I was known in the district and people collected round me.

"What must be done?" they inquired.

"Put up barricades!" I replied.

"Where?"

"One at each end of the rue de l'Université; the other across the rue du Bac."

They brought me a crowbar and I set to the task by beginning to unpave the street. Everybody clamoured for arms.

While this was going on drums were beating in the Tuileries garden. Three soldiers of the Garde Royale appeared at the ii top of the rue du Bac, from the direction of the rue Saint-Thomas-d'Aquin.

"Look here!" I said to those surrounding me, "you are asking for arms? Nothing could be more opportune. See! here are three rifles coming towards you; the only thing you have to do is to take them...."

"Oh, if that is all!" they said.

And they rushed towards the soldiers, who pulled up. I was the only man armed in the crowd.

"My friends," I shouted to the soldiers, "give up your guns and no harm shall be done you!"

They consulted for a moment, then gave up their guns. I kept the soldiers covered with mine, prepared to kill the first man who should make any hostile demonstration. The people took the guns, but these were actually not loaded: hence, of course, arose the poor devils' readiness to give them up. The people uttered loud shouts of triumph, the battle had begun with a victory: one gendarme killed and three soldiers of the Royal Guard made prisoners! True, we had to let our captives go, because we did not know what to do with them.

We now went on with our barricades. A little group of students arrived from the top of the rue de l'Université; a tall fair young man marched at its head, dressed in an apple-green frock-coat. He was the only one of the party who possessed a service gun. We fraternised and they joined with us to work at the barricades. The close vicinity of the barracks of the Gardes du Corps on the quai d'Orsay made us fearful of an attack. It was quite impossible for the sentinel not to have heard the two reports of a gun, not to have seen the police fly and not to have raised the alarm. I was tired of turning up paving-stones, so gave my pickaxe to the tall fair youth. He began to pick up the intermediate space, but the crowbar was heavy, fell out of his hands and struck me on the leg.

"Ah! monsieur," he cried, "I beg your pardon most profoundly, for I am sure I must have hurt you badly!"

It was true enough, but there are moments when one does not feel pain.

"Never mind," I said to him; "it is on the bone."

He raised his head. "Do you happen to possess a ready wit?"

"By Jove!" I replied, "that's a fine question:' it is my business to have one!"

"Would you favour me with your name?"

"Alexandre Dumas."

"Oh! monsieur!" (He held out his hand to me.) "My name is Bixio ... Profession--medical student. If I get killed, here is my card; have the goodness to see that I am carried home. If you are wounded, I will put my scientific knowledge at your disposal."

"Monsieur, I hope that neither your card nor your knowledge will be required; but, all the same, I will take the one and accept the other. Take care to remember my name, if you please, as I will remember yours!"

We shook hands, and our friendship dated from that meeting.

The barricades finished, we left them to be guarded by those who had helped to make them.

"Now, then," I said to Bixio, "where are you going?"

"I am going in the direction of Gros-Caillou."

"In that case, I will accompany you as far as the Chamber.... I want to go and see what is happening at the _National._"

"What!" Bixio exclaimed. "Are you going like that, with your gun, through the streets?"

"Certainly!" I replied; "you seem to me to be going to do just the same."

"Yes, but only on this side of the Seine."

"Bah! I am in a shooting costume and not a fighting one."

"But shooting hasn't begun yet."

"All right, then; I will open the season."

However, as will be seen, I did not venture to cross the Tuileries with my accoutrements: I went round by the place de la Révolution, I crossed it without hindrance and went down the whole length of the rue Saint-Honoré. The barricades in the rue de l'Échelle and the rue des Pyramides had been broken down. When I reached the rue de Richelieu and saw a regiment at the top of the place Louvois, from the other side of the Palais-Royal a dense line of troops was visible, and a squadron of Lancers was stationed in the place du Palais-Royal. There was no passage left me unless I went back the way I had come. I found I was nearly opposite my old offices, No. 216. So I went in and upstairs to the first floor. There I found Oudard. He looked at me, hesitating whether to recognise me.

"What! is that you?" he asked.

"No doubt about that."

"What are you doing here to-day?"

"I have come to see if I cannot meet the Duc d'Orléans."

"What do you want with him?"

I began to laugh.

"I want to address him as _Your Majesty_," I replied.

Oudard uttered a lamentable cry of distress.

"Unlucky fellow!" he said, "how can you utter such words? Suppose anybody heard you!"

"Yes, but nobody will hear me--the duke least of all." "Why so?"

"Because I presume he is at Neuilly."

"The Duc d'Orléans is in his right place!" Oudard replied magisterially.

"My dear Oudard, as I am much less well versed in matters of etiquette than yourself, allow me to inquire where the right place is?"

"Why, by the king's side, I suppose."

"Then," I said, "I present my compliments to His Highness."

At this moment drums began beating at the corner of the rue de Richelieu, turning by the rue Saint-Honoré, and advancing towards the Palais-Royal. Behind them came a general, surrounded by his staff of officers. I could see them plainly through the chinks of the outside blinds.

I felt a great desire to make Oudard sick with fear.

"Look here, Oudard," I said, "I am strongly of opinion that if I picked off the general who is just passing it would considerably advance the affairs of M. le Duc d'Orléans ... who is so near the king."

And I covered the general with my gun. Oudard became as pale as death and flung himself upon my gun, which was not even cocked. I laughingly showed him the hammer lowered on the nipple.

"Oh!" he said, "you will leave this place, will you not?"

"You must wait till the soldiers have filed past.... I cannot reasonably attack, singlehanded, two or three thousand men."

Oudard sat down, and I laid my gun in a corner and opened the window wide.

"What are you up to next?" he asked.

"I am going to amuse myself by watching the military pass by"; and I watched them from beginning to end.

They went to the Hôtel de Ville, where warm fighting had begun. The general in command, whom I had picked out to Oudard's extreme terror, was General Wall.

I went back by the rue de Richelieu, behind the last ranks, with my gun on my shoulder, as quietly as though I were going to the opening of the shooting season, on the plains of Saint-Denis.