TWO PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENTS.
I awoke upon the morrow impressed with that strange sensation which is
so apt to occur after the first night’s repose in a new and unfamiliar
locality. I could not for some time remember where I was. The events of
the two last days beset me like the recollections of an unhealthy dream,
produced by the agency of opiates; and it was with difficulty I could
persuade myself that I had passed the night beneath the roof of the
famous Tuilleries.
“After all,” thought I, “the event may be an interesting, but it is by
no means an unusual one, in this transitory world of ours. Louis XVI.,
Napoleon, Charles X., Louis Philippe, and Dunshunner, have by turns
occupied the palace, and none of them have had the good fortune to leave
it in perpetuity to their issue. Since abdication is the order of the
day, I shall even follow the example of my royal predecessors, and bolt
with as much expedition as possible; for, to say the truth, I am getting
tired of this turmoil, and I think, with Sir Kenneth of Scotland, that
the waters of the Clyde would sound pleasant and grateful in mine ear.”
A very slight toilet sufficed for the occasion, and I sallied forth with
the full intention of making my immediate escape. This was not so easy.
I encountered no one in the corridors, but as I opened the door of the
Salle des Trophées, a din of many voices burst upon my ears. A number of
persons occupied the hall, apparently engaged in the discussion of an
extempore breakfast. To my infinite disgust, I recognised my quondam
acquaintances of the cellar.
“Aha! thou art still here then, citizen?” cried Monsieur Destripes, who
was inflicting huge gashes upon a ham, filched, probably, from the royal
buttery. “By my faith we thought thou had’st given us the slip. Never
mind—we are not likely to part soon; so sit thee down and partake of our
republican cheer.”
“I am afraid,” said I, “that business requires my presence elsewhere.”
“Let it keep till it cool then,” replied the other. “Suffice it to say,
that no man quits this hall till the whole of us march out _en masse_.
Say I right, brother Pomme-de-terre?”
“Just so,” replied the chiffonier, tossing off his draught from an
ornament of Venetian glass. “We have built up a second barricade, and
have sworn never to surrender.”
“How is this, gentlemen?” said I.
“You must know, sir,” replied a meagre-looking personage, whom I
afterwards ascertained to be a barber, “that the liberty of the people
is not yet secure. Last night, when we were in the cellar, a large body
of the National Guard came, by orders of the Provisional Government, and
ejected the whole of our compatriots from the upper stories of the
Tuilleries. This we hold to be a clear infraction of the charter, for
all public buildings are declared to be the property of the people.
Fortunately we escaped their notice, but being determined to reassert
the rights of France, we have barricaded the staircase which leads to
this hall, and are resolved to maintain our post.”
“Bravely spoken, old Saigne-du-nez!” cried the butcher; “and a jollier
company you won’t find any where. Here are ladies for society, wine for
the drinking, provisions to last us a week; and what would you wish for
more? _Cent mille haches!_ I doubt if Louis Philippe is enjoying himself
half so much.”
“But really, gentlemen—”
“_Sacre_, no mutiny!” cried the butcher; “don’t we know that the
sovereign will of the people must be respected? There is thy friend
there, as happy as may be; go round and profit by his example.”
Sure enough I discovered poor Bagsby extended in a corner of the hall.
The orgies of last evening were sufficient to account for his haggard
countenance and blood-shot eyes, but hardly for the multitudinous oaths
which he ejaculated from time to time. Beside him sat a bloated
poissarde, who was evidently enamoured of his person, and tended him
with all that devotion which is the characteristic of the gentler sex.
As it was beyond the power of either to hold any intelligible
conversation, the lady contrived to supply its place by a system of
endearing pantomime. Sometimes she patted Bagsby on the cheek, then
chirupped as a girl might do when coaxing a bird to open its mouth, and
occasionally endeavoured to insinuate morsels of garlic and meat between
his lips.
“Oh, Mr Dunshunner! save me from this hag!” muttered Bagsby. “I have
such a splitting headach, and she will insist on poisoning me with her
confounded trash! Faugh, how she smells of eels! Oh dear! oh dear! is
there no way of getting out? The barricades and the fighting are nothing
compared to this!”
“I am afraid, Mr Bagsby,” said I, “there is no remedy but patience. Our
friends here seem quite determined to hold out, and I am afraid that
they would use little ceremony, did we make any show of resistance.”
“I know that well enough!” said Bagsby: “they wanted to hang me last
night, because I made a run to the door: only, the women would not let
them. What do you want, you old harridan? I wish you would take your
fingers from my neck!”
“_Ce cher bourgeois!_” murmured the poissarde: “_c’est un méchant drôle,
mais assez joli!_”
“Upon my word, Mr Bagsby, I think you have reason to congratulate
yourself on your conquest. At all events, don’t make enemies of the
women; for, heaven knows, we are in a very ticklish situation, and I
don’t like the looks of several of those fellows.”
“If ever I get home again,” said Bagsby, “I’ll renounce my errors, turn
Tory, go regularly to church, and pray for the Queen. I’ve had enough of
liberty to last me the rest of my natural lifetime. But, I say, my dear
friend, couldn’t you just rid me of this woman for half an hour or so?
You will find her a nice chatty sort of person; only, I don’t quite
comprehend what she says.”
“Utterly impossible, Mr Bagsby! See, they are about something now. Our
friend the barber is rising to speak.”
“Citizens!” said Saigne-du-nez, speaking as from a tribune, over the
back of an arm-chair—“Citizens! we are placed by the despotism of our
rulers in an embarrassing position. We, the people, who have won the
palace and driven forth the despot and his race, are now ordered to
evacuate the field of our glory, by men who have usurped the charter,
and who pretend to interpret the law. I declare the sublime truth, that,
with the revolution, all laws, human and divine, have perished! (Immense
applause.)
“Citizens! isolated as we are by this base decree from the great body of
the people, it becomes us to constitute a separate government for
ourselves. Order must be maintained, but such order as shall strike
terror into the breasts of our enemies. France has been assailed through
us, and we must vindicate her freedom. Amongst us are many patriots,
able and willing to sustain the toils of government; and I now propose
that we proceed to elect a provisional ministry.”
The motion was carried by acclamation, and the orator proceeded.
“Citizens! amongst our numbers there is one man who has filled the most
lofty situations. I allude to Citizen Jupiter Potard. Actor in a hundred
revolutions, he has ever maintained the sublime demeanour of a patriot
of the Reign of Terror. Three generations have regarded him as a model,
and I now call upon him to assume the place and dignity of our
President.”
Jupiter Potard, a very fine-looking old man, with a beard about a yard
long,—who was really a model, inasmuch as he had sat in that capacity
for the last thirty years to the artists of Paris,—was then conducted,
amidst general applause, to a chair at the head of the table. Jupiter, I
am compelled to add, seemed rather inebriated; but, as he did not
attempt to make any speeches, that circumstance did not operate as a
disqualification.
The remainder of the administration was speedily formed. Destripes
became Minister of the Interior: Pomme-de-terre received the Portfolio
of Justice. A gentleman, who rejoiced in the sobriquet of
Gratte-les-rues, was made Minister of War. Saigne-du-nez appointed
himself to the Financial Department, and I was unanimously voted the
Minister of Foreign Affairs. These were the principal offices of the
Republic, and to us the functions of government were confided. Bagsby,
at the request of the poissardes, received the honorary title of
Minister of Marine.
A separate table was ordered for our accommodation; and our first
decree, countersigned by the Minister of the Interior, was an order for
a fresh subsidy from the wine-cellar.
Here a sentry, who had been stationed at a window, announced the
approach of a detachment of the National Guard.
“Citizen Minister of War!” said Saigne-du-nez, who, without any scruple,
had usurped the functions of poor old Jupiter Potard, “this is your
business. It is my opinion that the provisional government cannot
receive a deputation of this kind. Let them announce their intentions at
the barricade without.”
Gratte-les-rues, a huge ruffian with a squint, straightway shouldered
his musket, and left the room. In a few minutes he returned with a
paper, which he cast upon the table.
“A decree from the Hotel de Ville,” he said.
“Is it your pleasure, citizen colleagues, that this document should now
be read?” asked Saigne-du-nez.
All assented, and, as Minister of Foreign Affairs, the following
document was placed in my hands. It was listened to with profound
attention.
“Unity is the soul of the French nation; it forms its grandeur, its
power, and its glory; through unity we have triumphed, and the rights
of the people have been vindicated.
“Impressed with these high and exalted sentiments, and overflowing
with that fraternity which is the life-blood of our social system, the
Provisional Government decrees:—
“I. That the Tuilleries, now denominated the Hôpital des Invalides
Civiles, shall be immediately evacuated by the citizens who have so
bravely wrested it from the tyrant.
“II. That each patriot, on leaving it, shall receive from the public
treasury the sum of five francs, or an equivalent in coupons.
“III. The Minister of the Interior is charged with the execution of
this decree.
“_Liberté—Fraternité—Égalité._
(Signed)
DUPONT, (de l’Eure.)
LAMARTINE.
GARNIER PAGES.
ARAGO.
MARIE.
LEDRU ROLLIN.
CREMIEUX.
LOUIS BLANC.
MARRAST.
FLOCON.
ALBERT, (ouvrier.)”
“_Sang de Mirabeau!_” cried Destripes, when I had finished the perusal
of this document, “do they take us for fools! Five francs indeed! This
is the value which these aristocrats place upon the blood of the people!
Citizen colleagues, I propose that the messenger be admitted and
immediately flung out of the window!”
“And I second the motion,” said Pomme-de-terre.
“Nay, citizens!” cried Saigne-du-nez,—“no violence. I agree that we
cannot entertain the offer, but this is a case for negotiation. Let the
Minister of Foreign Affairs draw up a protocol in reply.”
In consequence of this suggestion I set to work, and, in a few minutes,
produced the following manifesto, which may find a place in some
subsequent collection of treaties.
“France is free. The rights of every Frenchman, having been gained by
himself, are sacred and inviolable; the rights of property are
abrogated.
“Indivisibility is a fundamental principle of the nation. It applies
peculiarly to public works. That which the nation gave the nation now
resumes.
“We protest against foreign aggression. Satisfied with our own
triumph, we shall remain tranquil. We do not ask possession of the
Hotel de Ville, but we are prepared to maintain our righteous
occupation of the Tuilleries.
“Impressed with these high and exalted sentiments, the Provisional
Government of the Tuilleries decrees:
“I. That it is inexpedient to lessen the glory of France, by
entrusting the charge of the Tuilleries to any other hands, save those
of the brave citizens who have so nobly captured it.
“II. That the Provisional Government do not recognise coupons as a
national medium of exchange.
“III. The Minister of Foreign Affairs is charged with the execution of
this decree.
“_Mort aux tyrans!_
(Signed)
POTARD.
DUNSHUNNER.
SAIGNE-DU-NEZ.
POMME-DE-TERRE.
GRATTE-LES-RUES.
DESTRIPES.
BAGSBY (tisserand.)”
This document was unanimously adopted as the true exponent of our
sentiments; and I was highly complimented by my colleagues on my
diplomatic ability. I took occasion, however, to fold up the following
note along with the despatch.
“If Citizen Albert has any regard for his English friends, he will
immediately communicate their situation to the citizen Monte-Christo.
Here, affairs look very ill. The public tranquillity depends entirely
upon the supply of liquor.”
This business being settled, we occupied ourselves with more industrial
duties. The finance was easily disposed of. There were but four francs,
six sous, leviable among the whole community; but Gratte-les-rues, with
instinctive acuteness, had discovered the watch and chain of the
unfortunate Minister of Marine, and these were instantly seized and
confiscated as public property.
On investigation we found that the larder was but indifferently
supplied. Due allowance being made for the inordinate appetite of the
poissardes, of whom there were about ten in our company, it was
calculated that our stock of food could not last for more than a couple
of days. On the other hand, there was a superabundance of wine.
We then proceeded to adjust a scheme for the future regulation of labour
throughout France; but I do not think that I need trouble my readers
with the detail. It did not differ materially from that propounded by M.
Louis Blanc, and the substance of it might shortly be stated as—three
days’ wage for half-a-day’s labour. It was also decreed, that all
servants should receive, in addition to their wages, a proportion of
their master’s profits.
After some hours of legislation, not altogether harmonious—for
Destripes, being baulked in a proposition to fire the palace, threatened
to string up old Jupiter Potard to the chandelier, and was only
prevented from doing so by the blunderbuss of Saigne-du-nez—we grew
weary of labour, and the orgies commenced anew. I have neither patience
nor stomach to enter into a description of the scene that was there and
then enacted. In charity to the human race, let me hope that such a
spectacle may never again be witnessed in the heart of a Christian city.
Poor Bagsby suffered fearfully. The affection of the poissarde had
gradually augmented to a species of insanity, and she never left him for
a moment. The unhappy man was dragged out by her to every dance; she
gloated on him like an ogress surveying a plump and pursy pilgrim; and
at the close of each set she demanded the fraternal salute. He tried to
escape from his persecutor by dodging round the furniture; but it was of
no use. She followed him as a ferret follows a rabbit through all the
intricacies of his warren, and invariably succeeded in capturing her
booty in a corner.
At length night came, and with it silence. One by one the revellers had
fallen asleep, some still clutching the bottle, which they had plied
with unabated vigour so long as sensibility remained, and the broad calm
moon looked on reproachfully through the windows of that desecrated
hall. There was peace in heaven, but on earth—oh, what madness and
pollution!
I was lying wrapped up in some old tapestry, meditating very seriously
upon my present precarious situation, when I observed a figure moving
amidst the mass of sleepers. The company around was of such a nature,
that unpleasant suspicions naturally occurred to my mind, and I
continued to watch the apparition until the moonlight shone upon it,
when I recognised Bagsby. This poor fellow was a sad incubus upon my
motions; for although I had no earthly tie towards him, I could not help
feeling that in some measure I had been instrumental in placing him in
his present dilemma, and I had resolved not to escape without making him
the partner of my flight. I was very curious to know the object of his
present movements, for the stealthy manner in which he glided through
the hall betokened some unusual purpose. I was not long left in doubt.
From behind a large screen he drew forth a coil of cord, formerly
attached to the curtain, but latterly indicated by Destripes as the
implement for Potard’s apotheosis; and approaching a window, he
proceeded to attach one end of it very deliberately to a staple. He then
gave a cautious glance around, as if to be certain that no one was
watching him, and began to undo the fastenings of the window. A new
gleam of hope dawned upon me. I was about to rise and move to his
assistance, when another figure glided rapidly through the moonshine. In
an instant Bagsby was clutched by the throat, and a low voice hissed
out—
“_Ah traître! monstre! polisson! vous voulez donc fuir? Vous osez
mépriser mon amour!_”
It was the poissarde. Nothing on earth is so wakeful as a jealous woman.
She had suspected the designs of the wretched Minister of Marine, and
counterfeited sleep only to detect him in the act of escaping.
Not a moment was to be lost. I knew that if this woman gave the alarm,
Bagsby would inevitably be hanged with his own rope, and I stole towards
the couple, in order to effect, if possible, a reconciliation.
“Ah, citizen, is it thou?” said the poissarde more loudly than was at
all convenient. “Here is thy fellow trying to play me a pretty trick!
Perfidious monster! was this what thou meant by all thy professions of
love?”
“For heaven’s sake, take the woman off, or she will strangle me!”
muttered Bagsby.
“Pray, hush! my dear madam, hush!” said I, “or you may wake some of our
friends.”
“What care I,” said the poissarde; “let them wake, and I will denounce
the villain who has dared to trifle with my affections!”
“Nay, but consider the consequences!” said I. “Do, pray, be silent for
one moment. Bagsby, this is a bad business!”
“You need not tell me that,” groaned Bagsby.
“Your life depends upon this woman, and you must appease her somehow.”
“I’ll agree to any thing,” said the terrified Minister of Marine.
“Yes! I will be avenged!” cried the poissarde; “I will have his heart’s
blood, since he has dared to deceive me. How! is this the way they treat
a daughter of the people?”
“Citoyenne!” I said, “you are wrong—utterly wrong. Believe me, he loves
you passionately. What proof do you desire?”
“Let him marry me to-morrow,” said the poissarde, “in this very room, or
I shall immediately raise the alarm.”
I tried to mitigate the sentence, but the poissarde was perfectly
obdurate.
“Bagsby, there is no help for it!” said I. “We are in the midst of a
revolution, and must go along with it. She insists upon you marrying her
to-morrow. The alternative is instant death.”
“I’ll do it,” said Bagsby, quietly; “any thing is better than being
murdered in cold blood.”
The countenance of the poissarde brightened.
“Aha!” said she, taking the submissive Bagsby by the ear, “so thou art
to be my republican husband after all, _coquin_? Come along. I shall
take care that thou dost not escape again to-night, and to-morrow I
shall keep thee for ever!”
So saying, she conducted her captive to the other end of the hall.