The Companions of Jehu by Alexandre Dumas (sneezy the snowman read aloud .txt) 📕
The trial recommenced. It was at first attended by the same results as the preceding one. The four accused were protected by an alibi, patently false, but attested by a hundred signatures, and for which they could easily have obtained ten thousand. All moral convictions must fail in the presence of such authoritative testimony. An acquittal seemed certain, when a question, perhaps involuntarily insidious, from the president, changed the aspect of the trial.
"Madam," said he to the lady who had been so kindly assisted by one of the highwaymen, "which of these men was it who tendered you such thoughtful attention?"
This unexpected form of interrogation confused her ideas. It is probable that she believed the facts to be known, and saw in this a means of modifying the fate of the man who interested her.
"It w
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Hardly had the general appeared on the portico than cries of “Vive Bonaparte!” echoed through the courtyard into the street, where they were taken up by the dragoons drawn up in line before the gate.
“That’s a good omen, general,” said Roland.
“Yes. Give Lefebvre his commission at once; and if he has no horse, let him take one of mine. Tell him to meet me in the court of the Tuileries.”
“His division is already there.”
“All the more reason.”
Glancing about him, Bonaparte saw Moreau and Beurnonville, who were waiting for him, their horses held by orderlies. He saluted them with a wave of his hand, already that of a master rather than that of a comrade. Then, perceiving General Debel out of uniform, he went down the steps and approached him.
“Why are you in civilian’s dress?” he asked.
“General, I was not notified. I chanced to be passing along the street, and, seeing the crowd before your house, I came in, fearing you might be in danger.”
“Go and put on your uniform quickly.”
“But I live the other side of Paris; it would take too long.” But, nevertheless, he made as if to retire.
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t be alarmed, general.”
Debel had noticed an artilleryman on horseback who was about his size.
“Friend,” said he, “I am General Debel. By order of General Bonaparte lend me your uniform and your horse, and I’ll give you furlough for the day. Here’s a louis to drink the health of the commander-in-chief. Tomorrow, come to my house for your horse and uniform. I live in the Rue Cherche-Midi, No. 11.”
“Will nothing be done to me?”
“Yes, you shall be made a corporal.”
“Good!” said the artilleryman; and he quickly handed over his uniform and horse to General Debel.
In the meantime, Bonaparte heard talking above him. He raised his head and saw Joseph and Bernadotte at a window.
“Once more, general,” he said to Bernadotte, “will you come with me?”
“No,” said the latter, firmly. Then, lowering his tone, he continued: “You told me just now to take care.”
Yes.”
“Well, I say to you, take care.”
“Of what?”
“You are going to the Tuileries?”
“Of course.”
“The Tuileries are very near the Place de la Révolution.”
“Pooh!” retorted Bonaparte, “the guillotine has been moved to the Barrière du Trône.”
“Never mind. The brewer Santerre still controls the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, and Santerre is Moulins’ friend.”
“Santerre has been warned that at the first inimical movement he attempts I will have him shot. Will you come?”
“No.”
“As you please. You are separating your fortunes from mine; I do not separate mine from yours.” Then, calling to his orderly, he said: “My horse!”
They brought his horse. Seeing an artillery private near him, he said: “What are you doing among the epaulets?”
The artilleryman began to laugh.
“Don’t you recognize me, general?” he asked.
“Faith, it’s Debel! Where did you get that horse and the uniform?”
“From that artilleryman you see standing there in his shirt. It will cost you a corporal’s commission.”
“You are wrong, Debel,” said Bonaparte; “it will cost me two commissions, one for the corporal, and one for the general of division. Forward, march, gentlemen! We are going to the Tuileries.”
And, bending forward on his horse, as he usually did, his left hand holding a slack rein, his right resting on his hip, with bent head and dreamy eyes, he made his first steps along that incline, at once glorious and fatal, which was to lead him to a throne—and to St. Helena.
On entering the Rue de la Victoire, Bonaparte found Sebastiani’s dragoons drawn up in line of battle. He wished to address them, but they interrupted him at the first words, shouting: “We want no explanations. We know that you seek only the good of the Republic. Vive Bonaparte!”
The cortège followed the streets which led from the Rue de la Victoire to the Tuileries, amid the cries of “Vive Bonaparte!”
General Lefebvre, according to promise, was waiting at the palace gates. Bonaparte, on his arrival at the Tuileries, was hailed with the same cheers that had accompanied him. Once there, he raised his head and shook it. Perhaps this cry of “Vive Bonaparte!” did not satisfy him. Was he already dreaming of “Vive Napoleon?”
He advanced in front of the troop, surrounded by his staff, and read the decree of the Five Hundred, which transferred the sessions of the Legislature to Saint-Cloud and gave him the command of the armed forces.
Then, either from memory, or offhand—Bonaparte never admitted any one to such secrets—instead of the proclamation he had dictated to Bourrienne two days earlier, he pronounced these words:
“Soldiers—The Council of Ancients has given me the command of the city and the army.
“I have accepted it, to second the measures to be adopted for the good of the people.
“The Republic has been ill governed for two years. You have hoped for my return to put an end to many evils. You celebrated it with a unanimity which imposes obligations that I now fulfil. Fulfil yours, and second your general with the vigor, firmness and strength I have always found in you.
“Liberty, victory, and peace will restore the French Republic to the rank it occupied in Europe, which ineptitude and treason alone caused her to lose!”
The soldiers applauded frantically. It was a declaration of war against the Directory, and soldiers will always applaud a declaration of war.
The general dismounted, amid shouts and bravos, and entered the Tuileries. It was the second time he had crossed the threshold of this palace of the Valois, whose arches had so ill-sheltered the crown and head of the last Bourbon who had reigned there. Beside him walked citizen Roederer. Bonaparte started as he recognized him, and said:
“Ah! citizen Roederer, you were here on the morning of August 10.”
“Yes, general,” replied the future Count of the Empire.
“It was you who advised Louis XVI. to go before the National Assembly.”
“Yes.”
“Bad advice, citizen Roederer! I should not have followed it.”
“We advise men according to what we know of them. I would not give General Bonaparte the same advice I gave King Louis XVI. When a king has the fact of his flight to Varennes and the 20th of June behind him, it is difficult to save him.”
As Roederer said these words, they reached a window opening on the garden of the Tuileries. Bonaparte stopped, and, seizing Roederer by the arm, he said: “On the 20th of June I was there,” pointing with his finger to the terrace by the water, “behind the third linden. Through the open window I could see the poor king, with the red cap on his head. It was a piteous sight; I pitied him.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing, I could do nothing; I was only a lieutenant of artillery. But I longed to go in like the others, and whisper: ‘Sire, give me four cannon, and I’ll sweep the whole rabble out.’”
What would have happened if Lieutenant Bonaparte had followed his impulse, obtained what he wanted from Louis XVI., and swept the rabble out, that is to say the people of Paris? Had his cannon made a clean sweep on June 20th, would he have had to make another the 13th Vendemiaire for the benefit of the Convention?
While the ex-Syndic; who had grown grave, was outlining in his mind the opening pages of his future “History of the Consulate,” Bonaparte presented himself at the bar of the Council of the Ancients, followed by his staff, and by all those who chose to do likewise. When the tumult caused by this influx of people had subsided, the president read over the decree which invested Bonaparte with the military power. Then, after requesting him to take the oath, the president added:
“He who has never promised his country a victory which he did not win, cannot fail to keep religiously his new promise to serve her faithfully.”
Bonaparte stretched forth his hand and said solemnly:
“I swear it!”
All the generals repeated after him, each for himself:
“I swear it!”
The last one had scarcely finished, when Bonaparte recognized Barras’ secretary, that same Bollot of whom Barras had spoken that morning to his two colleagues. He had come there solely to give his patron an account of all that was happening there, but Bonaparte fancied he was sent on some secret mission by Barras. He resolved to spare him the first advance, and went straight to him, saying:
“Have you come on behalf of the Directors?” Then, without giving him time to answer, he continued: “What have they done with that France I left so brilliant? I left peace; I find war. I left victories; I find reverses. I left the millions of Italy, and I find spoliation and penury. What have become of the hundred thousand Frenchmen whom I knew by name? They are dead!”
It was not precisely to Barras’ secretary that these words should have been said; but Bonaparte wished to say them, needed to say them, and little he cared to whom he said them. Perhaps even, from his point of view, it was better to say them to some one who could not answer him. At that moment Sièyes rose.
“Citizens,” said he, “the Directors Moulins and Gohier ask to be admitted.”
“They are no longer Directors,” said Bonaparte, “for there is no longer a Directory.”
“But,” objected Sièyes, “they have not yet sent in their resignation.”
“Then admit them and let them give it,” retorted Bonaparte.
Moulins and Gohier entered. They were pale but calm. They knew they came to force a struggle, but behind their resistance may have loomed the Sinnamary. The exiles they sent there the 18th of Fructidor pointed the way.
“I see with satisfaction,” Bonaparte hastened to say, “that you have yielded to our wishes and those of your two colleagues.”
Gohier made a step forward and said firmly: “We yield neither to your wishes, nor to those of our two colleagues, who are no longer our colleagues, since they have resigned, but to the Law. It requires that the decree transferring the legislative body to Saint-Cloud shall be proclaimed without delay. We have come here to fulfil the duty which the law imposes on us, fully determined to defend it against all factious persons, whoever they may be, who attempt to attack it.”
“Your zeal does not astonish us,” replied Bonaparte; “and because you are a man who loves his country you will unite with us.”
“Unite with you! And why?”
“To save the Republic.”
“To save the Republic! There was a time, general, when you had the honor to be its prop. But to-day the glory of saving it is reserved for us.”
“You save it!” retorted Bonaparte. “How will you do that? With the means your Constitution gives you? Why, that Constitution is crumbling on all sides, and even if I did not topple it over, it could not last eight days.”
“Ah!” cried Moulins, “at last you avow your hostile intentions.”
“My intentions are not hostile!” shouted Bonaparte, striking the floor with the heel of his boot. “The Republic is in peril; it must be saved, and I shall do it.”
“You do it?” cried Gohier. “It seems to me it is for the Directory, not you, to say, ‘I shall do it!’”
“There is no longer a Directory.”
“I did indeed hear that you said so just a moment before we came in.”
“There is no longer a Directory, now that Sièyes and Ducos have resigned.”
“You are mistaken. So long as there are three Directors, the Directory still exists. Neither Moulins, Barras nor myself, have handed in our
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