CHAPTER VI

The artillerymen--Carrel and _le National_--Barricades of the boulevard Bourdon and in the rue de Ménilmontant--The carriage of General La Fayette--A bad shot from my friends--Despair of Harel--The pistols in _Richard_--The women are against us--I distribute arms to the insurgents--Change of uniform--The meeting at Laffitte's--Progress of the insurrection--M. Thiers--Barricade Saint-Merry--Jeanne--Rossignol--Barricade of the passage du Saumon--Morning of 6 June

The group of artillerymen who guided the three leaders we have just mentioned went down at double quick pace, shouting, "_Vive la République!_" along the right bank of the canal. Some fled before them, others rallied round; there was a frightful tumult. At the place de la Bastille they rejoined the 12th Light; after what the officer had said they were sure of these. So the soldiers let the artillery go by. The major saluted them and nodded his approval. At the boulevard Saint-Antoine, a cuirassier, whose name I have forgotten, joined the artillerymen. There was a cuirassier on 5 June as there was a fireman on 15 May. When the cuirassier reached the guardhouse of the boulevard, at the corner of the rue de Ménilmontant, he rushed into the guardroom, sword in hand; the people followed him. In an instant, the guardhouse was taken and the soldiers disarmed. They continued along the boulevard to shouts of "_Vive la République!_" cries which were almost everywhere received with cheers. At the top of the rue de Lancry, they met Carrel on horseback. He came, like a general, to find out the state of things for himself.

"Have you a regiment with you?" he asked.

"We have them all with us!" he was told.

"That is too much; I only want one," he said, laughing, as he resumed at a gallop his way along the Bastille road. The artillerymen took the rue Bourbon-Villeneuve. At sight of them, the guard at the Bank ran for their rifles, but, to the great astonishment of the insurgents, they presented arms. They could not, however, go through the whole of Paris in this fashion; they were a few yards from the Vaudeville, where they deposited the flag; they rapidly ate a few bites of food and made for the _National,_ in the rue du Croissant. The Republicans flocked there, and, in the midst of them, men who held intermediary opinions, like Hippolyte Royer-Collard, for example. Meanwhile Carrel arrived, and his opinion was awaited impatiently.

"I have not great faith in the barricade," he said; "we succeeded in 1830 by an accident. Those who are of different opinion from me may move the paving-stones. I shall not persuade them to do it, nor shall I disapprove; but, in saving _le National_ and in preventing them from compromising it as a newspaper, I shall keep a bodyguard round until to-morrow. Believe me, it takes more courage to say to my friends what I am saying than to attempt with them that in which they are going to engage."

As Carrel uttered these words, Thomas arrived from the boulevard Bourdon.

"There is nothing for us to do here," said Thomas; "let us go away!"

At the same instant, the enthusiasts came out from the _National_ offices and went to consult together at Ambert's, in the rue Godot-de-Mauroy.

We will now relate what had happened in the boulevard Bourdon, from whence Thomas had come. As we said before, the dragoons had issued from the Célestins barracks and, after advancing rapidly, had stopped two hundred yards from the bridge. The multitude confronted them in terror. At this moment, the carriage of General La Fayette came out of the crowd drawn by young men. Those who marched before it shouted, "Make room for La Fayette!" The dragoons opened their ranks to let the general and the youths and the carriage pass. Scarcely had the general gone by before several shots rang out. Who fired those shots? Impossible to state, we did not ourselves know. It is the eternal question which history puts over and over again, without truth ever being able to formulate a reply; it was the enigma of 10 August, of 5 June and of 24 February. Instantly, the dragoons were beaten down with stones; children slipped even underneath the horses' bodies and ripped up the animals under the men. The conduct of the dragoons and of their commandant, M. Dessolier, was admirable; they sustained everything without either charging or firing. The attack was to come from another side. A sub-officer was despatched at a gallop to tell the colonel, who remained in the Célestins. The sub-officer reported, and the colonel decided not only to extricate his men by making a diversion, but, better still, to catch the insurgents between two fires. He came at the head of a second detachment, which, with trumpeters at its head, issued forth from the place de l'Arsénal. But scarcely had it proceeded a hundred yards before a discharge of musketry burst forth and two dragoons fell. Then the dragoons broke into a gallop, and, to avenge themselves for the attempted fusillade, charged the crowd along the boulevard Bourdon. A second discharge went off and Commandant Cholet fell dead. Then resounded the cry, "To arms!" Bastide and Thomas were at the opposite end of the boulevard Bourdon. They had not begun the attack, but, on the contrary, were attacked. They resolved not to recede by a single yard. A barricade was put up in a few minutes. It was defended by three principal leaders, Bastide, Thomas and Séchan. A dozen of the students of the École Polytechnique, a score of artillerymen and as many more of the populace rallied round them.

As though his tall figure did not run double the danger of the other, Thomas mounted on top of the barricade; Séchan took hold of him from behind, put his arms round him and made him come down. They kept their position unmoved. The firing came from the Arsenal, from the pavillon de Sully, and from the public granaries all at the same time. The colonel of dragoons had had his horse killed under him; the lieutenant was mortally wounded. A bullet had just hit Captain Briqueville. The order to retire was given to the dragoons who doubled back along the rues de la Cerisaie and Petit-Musc. The barricade was cleared; it was futile to continue the struggle on the outskirts of Paris; it was in the heart of it that fires must be lit. Thomas, Bastide and Séchan flew along the boulevard Contrescarpe and re-entered Paris, shouting: "To arms!" Thomas ran to confer with the _National._ Bastide, Séchan, Dussart, Pescheux d'Herbinville, erected a barricade across the entrance to the rue de Ménilmontant, where Bastide and Thomas lived, and had a shed full of wood for burning. Meanwhile, the students, the pupils of the École and the populace had taken possession of the hearse. Shouts of "To the Panthéon" were heard.

"Yes! yes! to the Panthéon," all voices repeated.

The hearse was drawn up before the Panthéon. The municipal cavalry barred the way. It was attacked and offered resistance, but was driven back towards the barrière d'Enfer. Two squadrons of carabiniers came to its aid, and, thanks to this reinforcement, it kept the mastery of the convoy. The insurgents dispersed down the faubourg Saint-Germain, shouting: "To arms!"

Paris was on fire from the barrière d'Enfer to the rue de Ménilmontant. Meanwhile, the young men who had taken out La Fayette's horses and were drawing his carriage heard the firing and cries of "Aux armes!" and the fusilade which increased on all sides. They were tired of remaining inactive. The person sitting on the back seat leant forward towards the person on the seat opposite.

"An idea!" he said.

"What is it?"

"Suppose we fling General La Fayette into the river and say that Louis-Philippe has drowned him?..."

The youths began to laugh--fortunately, it was merely a joke. That evening, at Laffitte's, the noble old man related the anecdote to me.

"Ah! ah!" he said, "after all it was not a bad idea, and I do not know whether I should have had the courage to oppose it, supposing they had tried to put it into execution."

To this state, then, had Paris reached when we appeared at the barrière de Bercy, and when the populace, on guard, informed us that Louis-Philippe was at his last gasp and that the Republic was proclaimed. We went along the boulevard Contrescarpe in hot haste. At the place de la Bastille we found the 12th Light, who let us pass. The boulevards were nearly deserted. When we got to the rue de Ménilmontant I saw a barricade; it was guarded by a single artillery-man. I went up to him and recognised Séchan, rifle on shoulder--the same rifle of which I have already spoken in connection with the famous night at the Louvre. I stopped; I knew nothing positively, so I asked him for news and begged him to explain why he was alone. The rest were famished with hunger and were eating a hasty meal in Bastide's woodshed. They must run at the first sound of firing. I learnt from Séchan what had passed in the boulevard Bourdon and I went on my way. My two companions of the route rushed down the rue de Bondy; I followed the boulevard. It was intersected at the top of the street and the faubourg Saint-Martin by a detachment of the line; the men were drawn up in three rows. I was asking myself how I could go through that triple line alone, in my hostile uniform, when I discovered among the ranks an old battery comrade. True, I nearly fought a duel with him at the time over a difference of opinion. He was dressed in a round jacket, a policeman's helmet and a pair of the buttoned knickerbockers called charivaris. He had a double-barrelled gun in his hand, and had joined the troops as an amateur. Having recognised him, I thought I might feel easy and continued to advance, making signs with my hand. He lowered his gun. I thought he had recognised me, and was joking or wanted to frighten me, so I still went forward. Suddenly, he disappeared in a cloud of fire and smoke and a bullet whistled in my ears. I saw things were serious. I was by the café de la Porte-Saint-Martin. I wanted to run into the theatre passage, but it was closed. I thrust the door of the theatre open with one kick. The fourth or fifth performance of _La Tour de Nesle_ was put up on the bills. I ran to the property stores. I came across Harel on the stage. He tore his hair at seeing his successful run interrupted. As he perceived that I was turning away from him, he said, "Where are you going?"

"To the property stores."

"What do you want there?"

"Have you such a thing as a rifle?"

"_Pardieu!_ I have a hundred. You know very well we have just been playing ... that is to say, unfortunately not I, but Crosmer ... _Napoléon à Schönbrünn."_

"All right, I want a rifle."

"What for?"

"To return one of my friends a bullet he has just sent at me. Only, I hope to be more adroit than he was."

"Oh! my friend!" exclaimed Harel, "you are going to get the theatre burnt down!" And he placed himself in front of the door leading to the property stores.

"Pardon, my friend," I said to him, "I will give up the rifles as they are yours; but give me the pistols that I presented for the second representation of _Richard_: not only are they valuable ones but, also, they were a present."

"Hide the pistols!" cried Harel to the man who had charge of the properties.

They hid them so well that I never saw them again. Furious, I went up to the second storey. Through the small windows of the theatre, forming a long square, I could see all that was happening on the boulevard. The soldiers were still at their post, and my friend--the man with the double-barrelled gun, policeman's helmet and charivari--was with them yet. I was mad that I had not even the smallest pea-shooter. Whilst I was looking through this aperture, so narrow that it permitted me to see without being seen, an act of great signification was taking place opposite the theatre. A dragoon rushed up at full speed, bringing an order. A child was hidden behind a tree on the boulevard with a stone in his hand. Just as the dragoon passed by, the child hurled the stone and it struck the soldier's helmet. The dragoon hesitated, but did not stop to pursue the child, and went his way at full gallop. But a woman--the child's mother, probably--came out stealthily behind him, seized him by the collar and gave him a good hiding. I lowered my head.

"The women are not with us this time," I said; "we are lost!"

At that moment, I heard Harel calling me in a pitiful voice. I went down. By the door which I had burst open in order to get into the theatre, a score of men had entered and were demanding arms. They, too, had bethought themselves of _Napoleon à Schönbrünn._ Harel already saw his theatre being pillaged from top to bottom, and called me to help him, relying on my name, already popular, and upon my uniform as an artillery-man. I went and faced the crowd, which stopped when it caught sight of me.

"Friends," I said to them, "you are honest men."

One of them recognised me.

"Stop," he said, "it is M. Dumas, the commissioner of the artillerymen."

"Precisely; so you see we can understand one another." "Why, yes! since you are on our side."

"Then listen to me, I beg."

"We will."

"You do not want to ruin a man who is of your own opinions, an exile of 1815, a prefect of the Empire?"

"We? we only want arms."

"Very well, then, M. Harel, the manager, was prefect during the Hundred Days and was exiled by the Bourbons in 1815."

"Then _Vive M. Harel!..._ Let him give us his rifles and put himself at our head."

"A manager of a theatre is not master of his opinions; he is dependent on the Government."

"If he will let us take his rifles we will not ask anything further from him."

"Be patient and we shall have them! But I will give them to you."

"Bravo!"

"How many of you are there?"

"About a score."

"Harel, have twenty rifles brought out, my friend." Then, turning towards the good fellows, I said--

"You must understand clearly that it is I, M. Alexandre Dumas, who lend you these guns; those who get killed I will not bother, but those who survive shall bring back their arms. Is that agreed to?"

"On our word of honour!"

"Here are twenty rifles."

"Thanks!"

"That is not all; you must write upon the doors: _No arms left!_"

"Who has got any chalk?"

"I will call the head carpenter. Darnault, a piece of chalk!"

"Here it is."

"Go and write!" I said to my men.

And one of them, rifle in hand, in sight of the detachment of the Line, went and wrote on the three doors of the theatre, "_No arms left,_" and signed it.

Then the twenty men shook hands with me, and went away, shouting, "_Vive la République!_" and flourishing their rifles.

"Now," I said to Darnault, "barricade the door."

"Upon my word," said Harel, "the theatre is your own from this moment, my dear friend, and you can do what you please in it. You have saved it!"

"Let us go and see Georges, and tell her she and the theatre are saved."

We went upstairs; Georges was nearly dead with fright. On seeing me enter, dressed as an artillery-man, she cried aloud, "Are you going out in that costume?"

"Of course!"

"But you will be killed before you reach the faubourg Poissonnière."

"Well, that is quite possible ... and if my friend G. de B. had not taken such bad aim it would already have happened."

"Harel, lend him some clothes."

"Ah! yes, why not, Tom?"

"Well, at any rate, send for some of your own; I will not let you go out in that wretched uniform."

"Well, we will see!"

Harel called Darnault.

"Darnault, have you any of your men here?"

"Yes, I think so," said Darnault; "there is Guérin."

"Send him to fetch some clothes from Dumas's."

"Give me a note," said Darnault to me.

"Lend me your pencil."

I wrote a few pencil lines on a scrap of paper, and he ran off. A quarter of an hour later, Guérin returned safely. For that matter, the road was perfectly cleared. I rapidly dressed myself in my ordinary clothes, and put my uniform under the care of Darnault--not wishing to entrust it to Georges, who would certainly have had it burnt--and I reached M. Laffitte's house by the faubourg Saint-Martin, the passage de l'Industrie, the rue d'Enghien and the rue Bergère. I did not get there till seven in the evening. La Fayette came to it by the boulevard. It was here he related to me the anecdote about the river. We went into Laffitte's house together, which I had not entered since the month of July 1830. The news that from all sides of Paris had reached this centre, of opposition, almost of insurrection, was as follows:--

On the right bank, they were masters of the Arsenal, of la Galiote guardhouse, of that of the Château-d'Eau and of the Mairie of the 8th Arrondissement; the Republicans had control of the Marais, the firearms factory at Popin court had been carried by assault, and twelve hundred rifles were given up to them; they had got to the place des Victories, and were preparing to attack the Bank and the Hôtel des Postes. But the rue Saint-Martin and its neighbouring streets was where the insurrection was concentrated, and the whole of that quarter was busy transforming itself into an impregnable fortress. The troop, still very disturbed by the events of 1830, did not know with whom it ought to side; should it stand by the Government, or should it turn to the People?--1830 pointed to the latter course.

With regard to the National Guard, the appearance of the man with the red flag had flung it into a state of consternation. It saw nothing in the insurrection of 5 June and the shouts of "_Vive la République!_" but a return to the Terror; it rallied rather for defence than for attack, and it was said that a whole battalion, massed on the pont Notre-Dame, had opened way to let eight insurgents pass through. So the Government, aware that the troops would do nothing except in concert with the Garde Nationale, had concentrated the control of all the military forces in the Capital in the hands of Maréchal Lobau. It was at this moment, when all this news was being bandied about, that we entered M. Laffitte's salon. The sight of General La Fayette produced an outcry, and people rose and went up to him.

"Well, general," they all called from all quarters, "what have you been doing?"

"Messieurs," he said, "brave young fellows came to my house and appealed to my patriotism."

"What did you say to them?"

"I replied, 'The more riddled with holes the flag is, the more glorious it is! Find a spot for me where a chair can be put and I will sit in it and get myself killed there.'"

The deputies gathered at Laffitte's looked at one another.

"Now, messieurs," said Laffitte to them, with that sweet smile which never left him, even in times of greatest danger, "what do you say to that?"

"What did Maréchal Clausel say?" asked a voice.

"I can tell you," replied Savary, who had just entered, and had heard the question; "I have just come from him."

"Ah!"

"I urged him to join us, and he replied, 'I will join you if you are sure of a regiment.' 'Eh, monsieur!' I said to him, 'if we had a regiment we should have no need of you!' Whereupon I left him."

"Messieurs," said Laffitte, "if we are going to throw ourselves into the insurrection, there is no time to lose; we must instantly proclaim the deposition of the king, and appoint a provisional government, so that Paris may wake up to-morrow to find a proclamation on all the walls."

"Will you sign it, general?" continued Laffitte, addressing himself to La Fayette.

"Yes," La Fayette replied simply.

"I will too," said Laffitte; "we must have a third." The general and the banker looked round; nobody offered.

"Ah! if only Arago were here!" said Laffitte.

"You know that you can count upon him," I hazarded; "he will not deny you: I have just left his brother, who is in the very thick of the insurrection."

"We can risk our own heads," said Laffitte, "but not those of our friends."

"Was it not done in 1830 for the Comte de Choiseul?"

"Yes; but the situation is more serious than in 1830."

"It is the same," I ventured to say.

"Excuse me! in 1830 we had the Duc d'Orléans with us."

"Behind us!"

"Still, he was there, and the proof of it is that to-day he is king."

"If he is the king, General La Fayette will recollect that it was no fault of ours."

Yes, wisdom lay in the young heads! I saw nothing was going to be done in this direction, and that the night would be spent in discussion. I went out: this was the easier to manage as I was a personage of but little importance, and probably no one noticed my absence. It was my intention to go either to the _National,_ or to Ambert; but, when I regained the boulevard, I learnt that they were fighting in the rue du Croissant. I had no arms. Furthermore, I could scarcely stand, for I was consumed with fever. I took a cab and drove home. I fainted as I was going upstairs, and they found me unconscious half-way up between the first and second landing. Whilst I was being discovered on my staircase, and being undressed and put to bed, the insurrection pursued its course.

Let us follow it behind the scenes at the barricade of the rue Saint-Merry. We had left Séchan guarding the barricade in the rue de Ménilmontant by himself. As soon as his comrades had done their meal, they rejoined him. At nine o'clock in the evening they had not yet been disturbed. The more advanced positions of the troops did not exceed the rue de Cléry. There was a great perturbation at the headquarters, where a certain number of generals and ministers had collected. Maréchal Soult, by virtue of his age and experience, found himself the natural president of this gathering. But he was perhaps the most undecided amongst them all. He remembered 29 July 1830 and the anathemas attached to the name of the Duc de Raguse. One general proposed to give the troops the order to withdraw, to draw them up on the Champ de Mars and, from thence, to re-enter Paris sword in hand. This strange strategical idea might have been adopted, but the prefect of police, M. Gisquet, opposed it with all his might. The collision, it will be remembered, had started upon an order of his given to the dragoons, and, during the three days the struggle lasted, he was more earnest in the fight and bolder in making extreme proposals than the boldest of the generals. The discussion went on until they were obliged to act; the danger assumed formidable proportions: the insurgents had successively carried the positions at the Bastille, la Lingerier, Blancs-Manteaux and the marché Saint-Martin, and repulsed the Municipal Guard with great losses. At eight at night the news arrived at headquarters that a barricade had just been constructed by the little bridge of l'Hôtel-Dieu; that the Municipal Guard, forced to beat a retreat, had surrendered the quai aux Fleurs to them; that they had completely surrounded the préfecture of police. Next, they issued orders to recall the troops into the town; a battalion of the 12th Light left Saint-Denis at the same time as the 14th came up from Courbevoie. The battery of the École militaire had been summoned to the Carrousel. A battalion of the 3rd Light and a detachment of the 6th Legion cleared the boulevard de la Madeleine; at the Saint-Martin gate, two squadrons of carabiniers were stationed opposite the theatre, and General Schramm had taken up his position with four companies at the top of the Ambigu. At six o'clock P.M. only, and after repeated charges, the dragoons succeeded in making themselves masters of the place des Victoires, and it was in the presence of M. de Lemet, and passing through a double hedge of the National Guard, that the runners set off. About a quarter past nine P.M., Étienne Arago commanded, in the uniform of an artillery lieutenant, a night patrol of a score of men, completely armed, amongst whom were Bernard (de Rennes) fils, Thomas and Ambert; it joined forces with Bastide, Dussart, Pescheux d'Herbinville and Séchan. The barricade behind which I had seen Séchan alone with his rifle then numbered nearly forty defenders. They spent the night making fortifications. M. Thiers had arrived about the same hour at the headquarters. He had seen the fire near by; by chance, he dined that day at the _Rocher de Cancale_ with Mignet and Haubersaert; they had been surrounded for a moment by the insurgents, who were concentrated in the environs of the Cloître Saint-Merry, and had not the faintest idea that three of the hottest partisans for Louis-Philippe were near to them. M. Thiers had recounted so many battles in his _Histoire de la Révolution_ that he was something of a general himself. Arrived at the place du Carrousel, he made his staff out of MM. Béranger, Kératry, Madier de Montjau and Voisin de Gartempe, who were there, and distributed cartridges whilst telling the deputies who were so inclined to come and join him where he was. Only nine answered to the invitation.[1] They knew the king was to come, and waited for him with great impatience. They would know what he would do by the expression of his face. The king arrived, calm, and even smiling. As we have said, with reference to the manner in which he possessed himself of the throne, he was by no means audacious but he had great courage.

It was only then that the defence was organised. The insurrection was really situated at the heart of Paris. The rue Saint-Martin was occupied by two barricades, one to the north at the top of the rue Maubuée, the other to the south, powerfully fortified, almost impregnable, at the top of the rue Saint-Merry. In the space between these two barricades, a house had been selected by the insurgents for use both as fortress and general quarters and ambulance. It was Number 30. The position had been chosen by almost as clever a strategist as M. Thiers. It looked on the rue Aubry-le-Boucher, consequently if people came along by that street they fell under a fourfold fire; if they attacked in the rear, they had to deal with the men on the barricades. A man named Jeanne, wearing the July decoration, who had earned a twofold celebrity by his courage in the conflict and his steadfastness before the judges, commanded this dangerous post. Two or three old soldiers were making bullets with lead torn from the gutters; children went and tore down the advertisements from the walls and brought them to make wads. We will presently publish the narrative of one of the children in its simplicity.

Suddenly, some one came to tell the Republicans, half of whom were without arms, that in the courtyard of that very house, No. 30, an armourer's shop was to be found. This was marvellous news indeed. The shop was open, and, without disorder or confusion, all the rifles it contained were distributed, and all the powder was portioned out in equal measures. The distribution was just completed when several shots were heard and the cry "To arms!"

This is what had happened:--

A column of the National Guard, which was reconnoitring in the rue Saint-Martin, had come to give help to the barricade.

"_Qui vive_?" cried the sentinel.

"Friends!" the commander of the column hastened to reply.

"Are you Republicans?"

"Yes, and we have come to help you."

"_Vive la République!_" the defenders of the barricade shouted in chorus.

A friend of mine, called Rossignol, could not resist the pleasure of being the first to shake hands with his co-religionists; he leapt over the barricade, and went towards the National Guards shouting, "You are welcome!" But at the same instant a cry went forth from the ranks of the National Guard--

"Ah! brigands! We have got you at last."

"Fire, friends!" cried Rossignol, "they are Philippists." And a discharge was fired from inside the barricade, killing five men of the National Guard.

It was the counterpart of: "A moi d'Auvergne! c'est l'ennemi." Only, more luckily than the Chevalier d'Assas, Rossignol re-entered the barricade safe and sound through a hailstorm of bullets.[2]

After a terrible struggle, and after returning to the charge three times, the National Guard was repulsed, and old men who had left off making their bullet casts, children who had stopped making wads to take up arms, laid their guns down and resumed their task. A lad of twelve had been wounded in the head by the first discharge; Jeanne could not make him leave the barricade, either in his capacity as leader or as a friend.

The National Guard went away and left their dead and wounded; but, as soon as the field of battle was cleared, Jeanne and his men cleared the barricade and picked up the wounded, whom they carried to their ambulances. A medical student who was one of the insurgents dressed their wounds, aided by two women. About a hundred yards from the barricade of the rue Saint-Merry, one was erected in the passage du Saumon, which had its sentinels spread out all along the rue Montmartre. At eight at night, Maréchal Lobau gave orders to take it, no matter at what cost; he meant by daybreak the next day to clear the rue Montmartre. They fought all night long. Those who guarded the barricade made this oath over the bodies of the comrades who had fallen--

"We will either go out conquerors or be carried away dead!"

The ground floor or _entresol_ of a café which no longer exists was used as an ambulance, whilst, from the windows of the first and second storeys, from time to time, there rained into an extended sheet cartridges thrown by unknown hands. There were only twenty defenders of the barricade. When, after a fight lasting nine hours, the soldiers at last cleared the barricade, they found eight dead men lying on the pavement, seven wounded and disabled lying on beds on the ground floor of the café, and a pupil of the École Polytechnique dying on the billiard-table. The four other insurgents had succeeded in escaping.

On the morning of the 6th, the insurrection had receded and concentrated itself in two quarters: on the place de la Bastille and at the entrance to the faubourg Saint-Antoine and in the rues Saint-Martin, Saint-Merry, Aubry-le-Boucher, Planche-Mibray and Arcis. The Government united its whole efforts to carry these last positions. From the next day the place de la Concorde was crowded with Artillery; two battalions hurried from Saint-Cloud, and three regiments of cavalry entered Paris from Versailles, drawing their guns with them. As to the barricade in the rue de Ménilmontant, it held out until daybreak; but, as it was too exposed on all sides, it could not hold out longer; those who guarded it took refuge with Bastide and Thomas, and escaped by a little window that looked out on a small street.

At four o'clock in the morning it was rumoured that everything had quietened down. After a feverish night I got up to find out the news; but, not being able to walk, I took a carriage. I drove to the rue des Pyramides. I hoped to see Arago there and learn the news from him. But neither he nor Bernard, fils (of Rennes) had returned; M. Bernard (of Rennes) and his charming daughters (whom I have not seen again, I believe, since that day) were very anxious; but whilst I was there a vigorous ringing of the bell announced with certainty some news either good or bad. They ran to the door and uttered a cry of joy. The father had his son back again, and the sisters beheld their brother again. I left the excellent family fondling their prodigal child, and went upstairs to Arago's rooms. He had taken off his artillery uniform.

"What barricade have you been behind all night?" he asked me, when he saw I was as pale as death.

"In my bed, unluckily.... And you?"

He related the story of the barricade in the rue de Ménilmontant.

"Is that all you know?" I asked.

"What more do you think I know? I left my rifle,... but come to the _National_ with me, where we shall find news."

We went down, and, on the stairs, we met Charles Teste, who was going to Bernard (de Rennes).

"Ah! there you are, deserter," he said to Arago.

"How a deserter?" exclaimed the latter. "I have just come from fighting."

"It is just that that I mean; but there are various ways of deserting: you were the _maire,_ and your place was not behind a barricade, but at your own offices; when one is the head, one must not make oneself a branch.

... _Parbleu!_ I too would have liked to take up my gun, it would not have been a very wicked thing to do, but I said to myself, 'Stay, Charles! You are the head, and you must not take the part of an arm too!'"

To those who knew Charles Teste, these words summed up the man himself in the one word--duty. We reached the _National_; it was very difficult to get into the offices, as they were very crowded. There we learned of the dispersion of the barricade au Saumon, but, at the same time, we also learned that the one in the rue Saint-Merry still held its ground. Latouche entered at this moment in great perturbation.

"It is all over!" he said.

"What, quite over?"

"Yes, quite."

"Have you come from it?"

"No, but I have just met some one who has."

"Good!" said Arago, "there is hope left yet.... Who will come with me?"

I yearned to go, but I could scarcely walk; a capital young fellow, a friend of ours, Howelt, wearing the July decoration, whom I still come across from time to time, came forward.

"Go to Laffitte's," Arago said to me, "and tell François, if he is there, that I have gone to find out the news."

I went to Laffitte's. The whole gathering was in a frightful state of confusion. They proposed to send a deputation to Louis-Philippe to protest against the revolt of the previous day. But let it be said that the proposition was rejected with horror and scorn. I recollect a saying of Bryas, which was superb in its indignation. His son, a pupil at the École Polytechnique, was among the insurgents. La Fayette also refused to take a step towards the king.

"Why this aversion," cried a voice; "_is not the Duc d'Orléans the best of Republicans?_"

"Ah! as the opportunity presents itself of denying the proposal erroneously attributed to me," exclaimed the noble old man, "I deny it."

Finally, they appointed three representatives, not to make apologies in the name of the insurrection, but to implore the clemency of the king in favour of those who were still held. These three representatives were François Arago, Maréchal Clausel and Laffitte. Clausel declined, and Odilon Barrot was substituted. We other young men had not been able to get into the Committee Room, but I had met Savary in the courtyard--Savary, a member of the Institut, the great geometrician and physicist and astronomer and scientist of means, of whom death has since deprived his country before he had lived half an ordinary life!

We were very harmonious in opinions and, as our republic was not one shared by everybody, we at once seized upon one another to thresh out our ideas of a Utopia. So we had met and thus were occupied whilst waiting there together. Arago came out first, and we ran to him. Louis Blanc, who, in his capital _Histoire de Dix Ans,_ has not let a single detail of that great period escape unnoticed, mentions our interview in these terms:--

"As M. Arago came out, he met Savary and Alexandre Dumas in the courtyard, a savant and a poet, both very excited; they had no sooner learnt what had passed at M. Laffitte's, than they broke into passionate and bitter speech, saying that Paris had only waited for one signal to rise in revolt, and that the deputies who were so ready to disclaim the efforts of the people were grossly culpable towards their country.

"'But is not everything at an end now?' asked François Arago.

"'No,' said a man of the people who was present, listening to our conversation, 'they are waiting for the tocsin from the Church of Saint-Merry, _for so long as a sick man's death rattle can be heard he is alive._'

"I was struck with the expression and, as will be seen, I did not forget it."

[Footnote 1: Louis Blanc, _Histoire de Dix Ans._]

[Footnote 2: Noël Parfait, _Episodes des_ 5 _and 6 June_ 1832.]