"Now they are coming at us with the bayonet! They are coming at the double!" said a voice in the barricade.
The other voice said, "Let us be off." A last musket-shot was fired.
Then a violent blow which we interpreted as a warning shook our wooden wall. It was in reality one of the workmen who had thrown down his gun when going away; the gun in falling had struck the paling of the ambulance. We heard the rapid steps of the two combatants, as they ran off.
Almost at the same moment a tumult of voices, and of b.u.t.t ends of muskets striking the paving-stones, filled the barricade.
"It is taken," said the last-maker, and he blew out the candle.
To the silence which enveloped this street a moment before succeeded a sort of ill-omened tumult. The soldiers knocked at the doors of the houses with the b.u.t.t-ends of their muskets. It was by a miracle that the shop-door escaped them. If they had merely pushed against it, they would have seen that it was not shut, and would have entered.
A voice, probably the voice of an officer, cried out, "Light up the windows!" The soldiers swore. We heard them say, "Where are those blackguard Reds? Let us search the houses." The ambulance was plunged in darkness. Not a word was spoken, not a breath could be heard; even the dying man, as though he divined the danger, had ceased to gurgle. I felt the little girl pressing herself against my legs.
A soldier struck the barrels, and said laughingly,--
"Here is something to make a fire with to-night."
Another resumed,--
"Which way have they gone? They were at least thirty. Let us search the houses."
We heard one raising objections to this,--
"Nonsense! What do you want to do on a night like this? Enter the houses of the "middle cla.s.ses" indeed! There is some waste ground over yonder.
They have taken refuge there."
"All the same," repeated the others, "let us search the houses."
At this moment a musket-shot was fired from the end of the street.
This shot saved us.
In fact, it was probably one of the two workmen who had fired in order to draw off their attention from us.
"That comes from over there," cried the soldiers, "They are over there!"
and all starting off at once in the direction from which the shot had been fired, they left the barricade and ran down the street at the top of their speed.
The last-maker and myself got up.
"They are no longer there," whispered he. "Quick! let us be off."
"But this poor woman," said I. "Are we going to leave her here?"
"Oh," she said, "do not be afraid, I have nothing to fear; as for me, I am an ambulance. I am taking care of the wounded. I shall even relight my candle when you are gone. What troubles me is that my poor husband has not yet come back!"
We crossed the shop on tiptoe. The last-maker gently opened the door and glanced out into the street. Some inhabitants had obeyed the order to light up their windows, and four or five lighted candles here and there flickered in the wind upon the sills of the windows. The street was no longer completely dark.
"There is no one about now," said the last-maker; "but let us make haste, for they will probably come back."
We went out: the old woman closed the door behind us, and we found ourselves in the street. We got over the barricade and hurried away as quickly as possible. We pa.s.sed by the dead old man. He was still there, lying on the pavement indistinctly revealed by the flickering glimmer from the windows; he looked as though he was sleeping. As we reached the second barricade we heard behind us the soldiers, who were returning.
We succeeded in regaining the streets in course of demolition. There we were in safety. The sound of musketry still reached us. The last-maker said, "They are fighting in the direction of the Rue de Clery." Leaving the streets in course of demolition, we went round the markets, not without risk of falling into the hands of the patrols, by a number of zigzags, and from one little street to another little street. We reached the Rue Saint Honore.
At the corner of the Rue de l"Arbre Sec the last-maker and I separated, "For in truth," said he to me, "two run more danger than one." And I regained No. 19, Rue Richelieu.
While crossing the rue des Bourdonnais we had noticed the bivouac of the Place Saint Eustache. The troops who had been dispatched for the attack had not yet come back. Only a few companies were guarding it. We could hear shouts of laughter. The soldiers were warming themselves at large fires lighted here and there. In the fire which was nearest to us we could distinguish in the middle of the brazier the wheels of the vehicles which had served for the barricades. Of some there only remained a great hoop of red-hot iron.
[27] We may now, after twenty-six years, give the name of this loyal and courageous man. His name was Galoy (and not Galloix, as certain historians of the _coup d"etat_ have printed it while recounting, after their fashion, the incidents which we are about to read).
CHAPTER III.
WHAT HAPPENED DURING THE NIGHT.--THE PEt.i.t CARREAU
On the same night, almost at the same moment, at a few paces distant, a villainous deed was being perpetrated.
After the taking of the barricade, where Pierre Tissie was killed, seventy or eighty combatants had retired in good order by the Rue Saint Sauveur. They had reached the Rue Montorgueil, and had rejoined each other at the junction of the Rue du Pet.i.t Carreau and the Rue du Cadran.
At this point the street rises. At the corner of the Rue du Pet.i.t Carreau and the Rue de Clery there was a deserted barricade, fairly high and well built. There had been fighting there during the morning. The soldiers had taken it, but had not demolished it. Why? As we have said, there were several riddles of this nature during this day.
The armed band which came from the Rue Saint Denis had halted there and had waited. These men were astonished at not being pursued. Had the soldiers feared to follow them into the little narrow streets, where each corner of the houses might conceal an ambuscade? Had a counter order been given? They hazarded various conjectures. Moreover they heard close by, evidently on the boulevard, a terrific noise of musketry, and a cannonade which resembled continuous thunder. Having no more ammunition, they were reduced to listen. If they had known what was taking place there, they would have understood why they were not pursued. The butchery of the boulevard was beginning. The generals employed in the ma.s.sacre had suspended fighting for awhile.
The fugitives of the boulevard streamed in their direction, but when they perceived the barricade they turned back. Some, however, joined them indignant, and crying out for vengeance. One who lived in the neighborhood ran home and brought back a little tin barrel full of cartridges.
These were sufficient for an hour"s fighting. They began to construct a barricade at the corner of the Rue du Cadran. In this manner the Rue du Pet.i.t Carreau, closed by two barricades, one towards the Rue de Clery, the other at the corner of the Rue du Cadran, commanded the whole of the Rue Montorgueil. The s.p.a.ce between these two barricades formed a perfect citadel. The second barricade was stronger than the first.
These men nearly all wore coats. Some of them rolled the paving-stones with gloves on.
Few workmen were amongst them, but those who were there were intelligent and energetic. These workmen were what might be termed the "pick of the crowd."
Jeanty Sarre had rejoined them; he at once became their leader.
Charpentier accompanied him, too brave to abandon the enterprise, but too much a dreamer to become a commander.
Two barricades, enclosing in the same manner some forty yards of the Rue Montorgueil, had just been constructed at the top of the Rue Mauconseil.
Three other barricades, extremely feebly constructed, again intersected the Rue Montorgueil in the s.p.a.ce which separates the Rue Mauconseil from Saint Eustache.
Evening was closing in. The fusillade was ceasing upon the boulevard. A surprise was possible. They established a sentry-post at the corner of the Rue du Cadran, and sent a main-guard in the direction of the Rue Montmartre. Their scouts came in to report some items of information. A regiment seemed to be preparing to bivouac in the Place des Victoires.
Their position, to all appearance strong, was not so in reality. There were too few in number to defend at the same time the two barricades on the Rue de Clery and the Rue Montorgueil, and the soldiers arriving in the rear hidden by the second barricade would have been upon them without being even noticed. This determined them to establish a post in the Rue de Clery. They put themselves in communication with the barricades of the Rue du Cadran and with the two Mauconseil barricades.
These two last barricades were only separated from them by a s.p.a.ce of about 150 paces. They were about six feet high, fairly solid, but only guarded by six workmen who had built them.
Towards half-past four, in the twilight--the twilight begins early in December--Jeanty Sarre took four men with him and went out to reconnoitre. He thought also of raising an advanced barricade in one of the little neighboring streets. On the way they found one which had been abandoned, and which had been built with barrels. The barrels, however, were empty, only one contained any paving-stones, and the barricade could not have been held for two minutes. As they left this barricade they were a.s.sailed by a sharp discharge of musketry. A company of infantry, hardly visible in the dusk, was close upon them.
They fell back hastily; but one of them, who was a shoemaker of the Faubourg du Temple, was. .h.i.t, and had remained on the pavement. They went back and brought him away. He had the thumb of the right hand smashed.
"Thank G.o.d!" said Jeanty Sarre, "they have not killed him." "No," said the poor man, "it is my bread which they have killed."