THE MIDNIGHT CONCLAVE.
It was twelve o'clock at night, on the 22nd of February, 1848.
Lights still gleamed in the vast edifice of "Le National" printing
office, and in the editorial chamber were assembled the chiefs of the
revolution.
"All goes well," said Louis Blanc. "The blow is struck; let it only be
followed up, and the efforts of the past ten years will not prove vain!"
"How true was the opinion of M. Dantes respecting the National Guard!"
said Marrast.
"How true also respecting the workmen!" said Albert.
"How true respecting the Ministry!" said Ledru Rollin. "But where is M.
Dantes? Why is he not here?"
At that moment the private door opened, and M. Dantes, Flocon and
Lamartine entered.
"The news from the Chambers!" cried Marrast, as they approached.
"Three impeachments of the Ministry have been proposed," said Lamartine.
"By whom--by whom?" asked Louis Blanc. "By whom presented?"
"One by Odillon Barrot, one by Duvergier d'Hauranne and one by M. de
Genoude, Deputy from Toulouse."
"And what said Guizot?" asked Marrast.
"Nothing. He only laughed when the papers were handed him by old
President Sauzet."
"Ah!" cried Ledru Rollin.
"Few deputies were there," continued Flocon. "The opposition benches
were vacant. Guizot was there early, pale and troubled, but stern and
unbending. All the Ministers followed him."
"What was discussed?" asked Marrast.
"The Bordeaux Bank Bill."
"Ah!" cried Ledru Rollin again.
"Yes," continued Flocon, "until five o'clock that bill was discussed.
Barrot then ascended the tribune and deposited a general proposition to
impeach the Ministry."
"And what was done with it?" asked Louis Blanc.
"The President raised the sitting without reading it, but announced that
the bureaux should have it for examination on Thursday."
"Infamous!" cried Ledru Rollin.
"It is all as it should be," said M. Dantes, calmly.
"And the peers--what of them?"
"The Marquis de Boissy made an effort to get a hearing on the state of
Paris, but, of course, it was in vain."
"Is it true," asked Flocon, "that the rappel has been beaten to-day?"
"It was beaten in the Quartier St. Honore, at dawn," said Louis Blanc,
"and this evening, at about five o'clock, in several of the
arrondissements. But no reliance need be placed on the National Guard.
They are with us--they are of the people--they shout, 'Vive la
Reforme!'"
"But the Municipal Guard and the Line? I am told that an immense body of
them was this evening, at about eight o'clock, reviewed by the King and
the Dukes of Nemours and Montpensier, in the Place du Carrousel," said
Flocon.
"That's true," said Ledru Rollin; "I witnessed it myself in passing, and
I could not help saying, 'It is the last.'"
"Six thousand troops of the Line are on the boulevards, from the
Madeleine to the Porte St. Martin," said M. Dantes. "The Hotel de Ville,
the Places de la Bastille, de la Concorde and du Carrousel, and the
Quays frown with artillery. To-morrow will be a warm day!"
"It has been rather warm to-day in some parts of Paris," said Louis
Blanc, smiling. "Was there ever a grander spectacle than that in the
Place de la Concorde at noon? At least one hundred thousand men were
there assembled. Rushing across the bridge, they gathered around the
Chamber of Deputies--then from the southern gate of the Tuileries issued
two bodies of troops, one of mounted Municipal Guards, the other
infantry of the Line, and, pressing on the dense mass, they drove them
over the bridge. Only a few old fruitwomen were crushed beneath the
horses' hoofs, and a few of the troops were wounded by pebbles,
however."
"At the same time," said Flocon, "all the chains in the Champs-Elysees
were in requisition for a barricade, as well as all the public
carriages, and the people sang the Marseillaise, the Parisienne and the
Hymn of the Girondins. A guard-house was also consumed."
"Have you heard Bugeaud's remark at noon, when looking upon the Place de
la Concorde?" asked Marrast.
"We have been too busy to-day to hear anything," said Ledru Rollin.
"'Ah! we shall have a day of it,' said the bloodthirsty old hero. 'I
care not for the day,' said the pale Guizot, 'but the night!'"
"The people made quite a demonstration about Guizot, I hear," said
Flocon. "They assailed him with a shower of groans, it is said, and some
of the gamins flung pebbles at his gates."
"The most significant shout before the office of Foreign Affairs was
this," said Ledru Rollin--"'Countess of Leven, where is the Minister?'"
"And the very moment this was occurring," said Flocon, "I understand
that M. Thiers, on his return from the Chamber, in passing through the
Champs-Elysees, narrowly escaped a most unwelcome ovation from the
people. The two rivals were duly and simultaneously honored it seems."
"Thus much for to-day," said Marrast; "what of to-night?"
"Barricades rise all over Paris," said M. Dantes. "But we can do no
more. Let us each retire to his home. To-morrow the National Guard will
fraternize with the people, and the Ministry will resign."
A few words of parting salutation passed, and all departed.
M. Dantes and Lamartine left the office in company.
"What say you, Edmond," asked Lamartine, "will your wife spare you long
enough from her pillow to make with me a brief tour of the town?"
"Mercedes is rather exacting," said Dantes, with a laugh; "but if your
fair lady will suffer your absence, mine must do the same, I fear."
"Well, then, let us first to the Hotel de Ville, that grand centre of
Paris in all that is revolutionary."
As the two friends passed along, conversing on the events of the day and
the anticipations of the morrow, they were met, from time to time, by
knots of men at the corners, eagerly recounting the incidents of the
hour; the roll of drums was heard in the distance, and occasionally
there came the heavy and measured tread of infantry, the clatter of
cavalry and the lumbering of artillery, as they passed on their way. All
the shops and cafes were closed. Many of the lamps were demolished, and
others were not lighted, the gas being shut off. A fearful gloom brooded
over the city. The winter wind swept sharply and cuttingly along the
deserted streets, and rain, which froze as it fell, at intervals dashed
down.
The Hotel de Ville was encompassed by troops as the friends approached
it.
"Is that a cannon?" asked Lamartine, pointing to a dark object that
protruded from an embrasure of the edifice.
"It is!" replied Dantes.
"Then the revolution has, indeed, begun! Artillery in the streets of
Paris!"
"Behind each column of the portico of the Chamber of Deputies this day
frowned a concealed cannon!" was the significant response.
The friends turned off from the Hotel de Ville, and, crossing the right
branch of the Seine, were under the deep shadows of Notre Dame. But all
was tranquil and still. Only the howlings of the wintry blast were heard
through the towers and architectural ornaments of the old pile. Up the
Rue St. Jacques, into the Quartier Latin, they then proceeded, but the
students and the grisettes seemed to be fast asleep. Turning back, they
passed the Fish Market, and here a large body of cavalry had bivouacked.
Patrols marched to and fro; officers in huge dark cloaks smoked,
laughed and chatted, regardless of the morrow. The friends went on. All
was dark in the faubourg which succeeded. Not a light gleamed, save, in
some lofty casement, the fainting candle of the worn-out needlewoman or
of the overtasked student.
"Ah!" exclaimed Lamartine, as they passed one of these flickering
lights, "who knows what plotting head and ready hand may be beside that
candle? Who knows of the weapon burnished, the cartridge filled and the
sabre sharpened by that light for the morrow?"
"The morrow!" exclaimed M. Dantes; "that morrow decides the fate of
France!"
And the friends parted.