Chapter 47 - The Riot
It was about eleven o'clock at night. Gondy had not walked ahundred steps ere he perceived the strange change which hadbeen made in the streets of Paris.
The whole city seemed peopled with fantastic beings; silentshadows were seen unpaving the streets and others draggingand upsetting great wagons, whilst others again dug ditcheslarge enough to ingulf whole regiments of horsemen. Theseactive beings flitted here and there like so many demonscompleting some unknown labor; these were the beggars of theCourt of Miracles - the agents of the giver of holy waterin the Square of Saint Eustache, preparing barricades forthe morrow.
Gondy gazed on these deeds of darkness, on these nocturnallaborers, with a kind of fear; he asked himself, if, afterhaving called forth these foul creatures from their dens, heshould have the power of making them retire again. He feltalmost inclined to cross himself when one of these beingshappened to approach him. He reached the Rue Saint Honoreand went up it toward the Rue de la Ferronnerie; there theaspect changed; here it was the tradesmen who were runningfrom shop to shop; their doors seemed closed like theirshutters, but they were only pushed to in such a manner asto open and allow the men, who seemed fearful of showingwhat they carried, to enter, closing immediately. These menwere shopkeepers, who had arms to lend to those who hadnone.
One individual went from door to door, bending under theweight of swords, guns, muskets and every kind of weapon,which he deposited as fast as he could. By the light of alantern the coadjutor recognized Planchet.
The coadjutor proceeded onward to the quay by way of the Ruede la Monnaie; there he found groups of bourgeois clad inblack cloaks or gray, according as they belonged to theupper or lower bourgeoisie. They were standing motionless,while single men passed from one group to another. All thesecloaks, gray or black, were raised behind by the point of asword, or before by the barrel of an arquebuse or a musket.
On reaching the Pont Neuf the coadjutor found it strictlyguarded and a man approached him.
"Who are you?" asked the man. "I do not know you for one ofus."
"Then it is because you do not know your friends, my dearMonsieur Louvieres," said the coadjutor, raising his hat.
Louvieres recognized him and bowed.
Gondy continued his way and went as far as the Tour deNesle. There he saw a lengthy chain of people gliding underthe walls. They might be said to be a procession of ghosts,for they were all wrapped in white cloaks. When they reacheda certain spot these men appeared to be annihilated, oneafter the other, as if the earth had opened under theirfeet. Gondy, edged into a corner, saw them vanish from thefirst until the last but one. The last raised his eyes, toascertain, doubtless, that neither his companions norhimself had been watched, and, in spite of the darkness, heperceived Gondy. He walked straight up to him and placed apistol to his throat.
"Halloo! Monsieur de Rochefort," said Gondy, laughing, "areyou a boy to play with firearms?"
Rochefort recognized the voice.
"Ah, it is you, my lord!" said he.
"The very same. What people are you leading thus into thebowels of the earth?"
"My fifty recruits from the Chevalier d'Humieres, who aredestined to enter the light cavalry and who have onlyreceived as yet for their equipment their white cloaks."
"And where are you going?"
"To the house of one of my friends, a sculptor, only weenter by the trap through which he lets down his marble."
"Very good," said Gondy, shaking Rochefort by the hand, whodescended in his turn and closed the trap after him.
It was now one o'clock in the morning and the coadjutorreturned home. He opened a window and leaned out to listen.A strange, incomprehensible, unearthly sound seemed topervade the whole city; one felt that something unusual andterrible was happening in all the streets, now dark asocean's most unfathomable caves. From time to time a dullsound was heard, like that of a rising tempest or a billowof the sea; but nothing clear, nothing distinct, nothingintelligible; it was like those mysterious subterraneousnoises that precede an earthquake.
The work of revolt continued the whole night thus. The nextmorning, on awaking, Paris seemed to be startled at her ownappearance. It was like a besieged town. Armed men,shouldering muskets, watched over the barricades withmenacing looks; words of command, patrols, arrests,executions, even, were encountered at every step. Thosebearing plumed hats and gold swords were stopped and made tocry, "Long live Broussel!" "Down with Mazarin!" and whoeverrefused to comply with this ceremony was hooted at, spatupon and even beaten. They had not yet begun to slay, but itwas well felt that the inclination to do so was not wanting.
The barricades had been pushed as far as the Palais Royal.From the Rue de Bons Enfants to that of the Ferronnerie,from the Rue Saint Thomas-du-Louvre to the Pont Neuf, fromthe Rue Richelieu to the Porte Saint Honore, there were morethan ten thousand armed men; those who were at the fronthurled defiance at the impassive sentinels of the regimentof guards posted around the Palais Royal, the gates of whichwere closed behind them, a precaution which made theirsituation precarious. Among these thousands moved, in bandsnumbering from one hundred to two hundred, pale and haggardmen, clothed in rags, who bore a sort of standard on whichwas inscribed these words: "Behold the misery of thepeople!" Wherever these men passed, frenzied cries wereheard; and there were so many of these bands that the crieswere to be heard in all directions.
The astonishment of Mazarin and of Anne of Austria was greatwhen it was announced to them that the city, which theprevious evening they had left entirely tranquil, hadawakened to such feverish commotion; nor would either theone or the other believe the reports that were brought tothem, declaring they would rather rely on the evidence oftheir own eyes and ears. Then a window was opened and whenthey saw and heard they were convinced.
Mazarin shrugged his shoulders and pretended to despise thepopulace; but he turned visibly pale and ran to his closet,trembling all over, locked up his gold and jewels in hiscaskets and put his finest diamonds on his fingers. As forthe queen, furious, and left to her own guidance, she wentfor the Marechal de la Meilleraie and desired him to take asmany men as he pleased and to go and see what was themeaning of this pleasantry.
The marshal was ordinarily very adventurous and was wont tohesitate at nothing; and he had that lofty contempt for thepopulace which army officers usually profess. He took ahundred and fifty men and attempted to go out by the Pont duLouvre, but there he met Rochefort and his fifty horsemen,attended by more than five hundred men. The marshal made noattempt to force that barrier and returned up the quay. Butat Pont Neuf he found Louvieres and his bourgeois. This timethe marshal charged, but he was welcomed by musket shots,while stones fell like hail from all the windows. He leftthere three men.
He beat a retreat toward the market, but there he metPlanchet with his halberdiers; their halberds were leveledat him threateningly. He attempted to ride over those graycloaks, but the gray cloaks held their ground and themarshal retired toward the Rue Saint Honore, leaving four ofhis guards dead on the field of battle.
The marshal then entered the Rue Saint Honore, but there hewas opposed by the barricades of the mendicant of SaintEustache. They were guarded, not only by armed men, but evenby women and children. Master Friquet, the owner of a pistoland of a sword which Louvieres had given him, had organizeda company of rogues like himself and was making a tremendousracket.
The marshal thought this barrier not so well fortified asthe others and determined to break through it. He dismountedtwenty men to make a breach in the barricade, whilst he andothers, remaining on their horses, were to protect theassailants. The twenty men marched straight toward thebarrier, but from behind the beams, from among thewagon-wheels and from the heights of the rocks a terriblefusillade burst forth and at the same time Planchet'shalberdiers appeared at the corner of the Cemetery of theInnocents, and Louvieres's bourgeois at the corner of theRue de la Monnaie.
The Marechal de la Meilleraie was caught between two fires,but he was brave and made up his mind to die where he was.He returned blow for blow and cries of pain began to beheard in the crowd. The guards, more skillful, did greaterexecution; but the bourgeois, more numerous, overwhelmedthem with a veritable hurricane of iron. Men fell around himas they had fallen at Rocroy or at Lerida. Fontrailles, hisaide-de-camp, had an arm broken; his horse had received abullet in his neck and he had difficulty in controlling him,maddened by pain. In short, he had reached that suprememoment when the bravest feel a shudder in their veins, whensuddenly, in the direction of the Rue de l'Arbre-Sec, thecrowd opened, crying: "Long live the coadjutor!" and Gondy,in surplice and cloak, appeared, moving tranquilly in themidst of the fusillade and bestowing his benedictions to theright and left, as undisturbed as if he were leading aprocession of the Fete Dieu.
All fell to their knees. The marshal recognized him andhastened to meet him.
"Get me out of this, in Heaven's name!" he said, "or I shallleave my carcass here and those of all my men."
A great tumult arose, in the midst of which even the noiseof thunder could not have been heard. Gondy raised his handand demanded silence. All were still.
"My children," he said, "this is the Marechal de laMeilleraie, as to whose intentions you have been deceivedand who pledges himself, on returning to the Louvre, todemand of the queen, in your name, our Broussel's release.You pledge yourself to that, marshal?" added Gondy, turningto La Meilleraie.
"Morbleu!" cried the latter, "I should say that I do pledgemyself to it! I had no hope of getting off so easily."
"He gives you his word of honor," said Gondy.
The marshal raised his hand in token of assent.
"Long live the coadjutor!" cried the crowd. Some voices evenadded: "Long live the marshal!" But all took up the cry inchorus: "Down with Mazarin!"
The crowd gave place, the barricade was opened, and themarshal, with the remnant of his company, retreated,preceded by Friquet and his bandits, some of them making apresence of beating drums and others imitating the sound ofthe trumpet. It was almost a triumphal procession; only,behind the guards the barricades were closed again. Themarshal bit his fingers.
In the meantime, as we have said, Mazarin was in his closet,putting his affairs in order. He called for D'Artagnan, butin the midst of such tumult he little expected to see him,D'Artagnan not being on service. In about ten minutesD'Artagnan appeared at the door, followed by the inseparablePorthos.
"Ah, come in, come in, Monsieur d'Artagnan!" cried thecardinal, "and welcome your friend too. But what is going onin this accursed Paris?"
"What is going on, my lord? nothing good," repliedD'Artagnan, shaking his head. "The town is in open revolt,and just now, as I was crossing the Rue Montorgueil withMonsieur du Vallon, who is here, and is your humble servant,they wanted in spite of my uniform, or perhaps because of myuniform, to make us cry `Long live Broussel!' and must Itell you, my lord what they wished us to cry as well?"
"Speak, speak."
"`Down with Mazarin!' I'faith, the treasonable word is out."
Mazarin smiled, but became very pale.
"And you did cry?" he asked.
"I'faith, no," said D'Artagnan; "I was not in voice;Monsieur du Vallon has a cold and did not cry either. Then,my lord - - "
"Then what?" asked Mazarin.
"Look at my hat and cloak."
And D'Artagnan displayed four gunshot holes in his cloak andtwo in his beaver. As for Porthos's coat, a blow from ahalberd had cut it open on the flank and a pistol shot hadcut his feather in two.
"Diavolo!" said the cardinal, pensively gazing at the twofriends with lively admiration; "I should have cried, Ishould."
At this moment the tumult was heard nearer.
Mazarin wiped his forehead and looked around him. He had agreat desire to go to the window, but he dared not.
"See what is going on, Monsieur D'Artagnan," said he.
D'Artagnan went to the window with his habitual composure."Oho!" said he, "what is this? Marechal de la Meilleraiereturning without a hat - Fontrailles with his arm in asling - wounded guards - horses bleeding; eh, then, whatare the sentinels about? They are aiming - they are goingto fire!"
"They have received orders to fire on the people if thepeople approach the Palais Royal!" exclaimed Mazarin.
"But if they fire, all is lost!" cried D'Artagnan.
"We have the gates."
"The gates! to hold for five minutes - the gates, they willbe torn down, twisted into iron wire, ground to powder!God's death, don't fire!" screamed D'Artagnan, throwing openthe window.
In spite of this recommendation, which, owing to the noise,could scarcely have been heard, two or three musket shotsresounded, succeeded by a terrible discharge. The ballsmight be heard peppering the facade of the Palais Royal, andone of them, passing under D'Artagnan's arm, entered andbroke a mirror, in which Porthos was complacently admiringhimself.
"Alack! alack!" cried the cardinal, "a Venetian glass!"
"Oh, my lord," said D'Artagnan, quietly shutting the window,"it is not worth while weeping yet, for probably an hourhence there will not be one of your mirrors remaining in thePalais Royal, whether they be Venetian or Parisian."
"But what do you advise, then?" asked Mazarin, trembling.
"Eh, egad, to give up Broussel as they demand! What thedevil do you want with a member of the parliament? He is ofno earthly use to anybody."
"And you, Monsieur du Vallon, is that your advice? Whatwould you do?"
"I should give up Broussel," said Porthos.
"Come, come with me, gentlemen!" exclaimed Mazarin. "I willgo and discuss the matter with the queen."
He stopped at the end of the corridor and said:
"I can count upon you, gentlemen, can I not?"
"We do not give ourselves twice over," said D'Artagnan; "wehave given ourselves to you; command, we shall obey."
"Very well, then," said Mazarin; "enter this cabinet andwait till I come back."
And turning off he entered the drawing-room by another door.