Part 13 (1/2)
”Rouen at the bar demanded Armand Carrel for his defence,” continued Louis Blanc. ”To refuse was impossible, but a bitter pill must it have been to Thiers and Mignet to consent. They must have foreseen what came.
Both, now in the Ministry, only four years before both had been in 'Le National'--Thiers as the colleague of Carrel, and Mignet as a collaborateur. The files of the journal were produced, and, lo! there stood paragraphs proven to have emanated from the pens of the prosecutors far more libelous and venomous on the august peers than anything Rouen had published. You all remember the scene that ensued and won't forget it soon.”
”No; nor shall we soon forget that n.o.ble pa.s.sage in Armand Carrel's defence,” said Flocon, ”in which he evoked the shade of Marshal Ney, and from the wild excitement that followed, one would suppose that it had really risen in the hall, bleeding and ghastly, and pointing to its wounds, like the ghost of Banquo, to blast his h.o.a.ry, jeweled and n.o.ble a.s.sa.s.sin, who, seated on those very seats, had sentenced him to an infamous doom. Carrel was instantly stopped, but General Excelmens rose in his seat and p.r.o.nounced the charge true. It was then reiterated with tremendous applause from the galleries. How Carrel escaped punishment for contempt is not known. Rouen was convicted of libel on the peers, of course; his sentence was a fine of ten thousand francs and imprisonment for two years.”
”But of what words did this famous libel actually consist?” asked Ledru Rollin.
”Louis can tell you better than I,” said Flocon.
”Why, the words were severe enough, no doubt,” replied Louis Blanc, ”but Thiers and Mignet had themselves expressed the same ideas a hundred times, though in less powerful and pointed language. The pa.s.sage which seems particularly to have given offence was this, that in the eyes of eternal justice and those of posterity, as well as in the testimony of their own consciences, these renegades from the Revolution, these returned emigrants, these men of Ghent, these military and civil parvenus, these old Senators and spoiled Marshals of Bonaparte, these Procureur Generals, these new-made n.o.bles of the Restoration, these three or four generations of Ministers sunk in public hatred and contempt, and stained with blood--all these, seasoned with a few notabilities, thrown in by the Royalty of the 7th of August, on condition they should never open their lips save to approve their master's commands--all this farrago of servilities was not competent to p.r.o.nounce on the culpability of men seeking to enforce the results of the Revolution of July!”
”It was not until the commencement of 1835, I think,” said Marrast, ”that Ministers opened a general onslaught upon the Parisian press. 'Le Republicain' was interdicted that year. It was then, too, that the laws against public criers and newspaper hawkers were inst.i.tuted. As far back as '33, however, Rodde had braved all such prohibitions by selling and with impunity, too, his own paper in the streets. In May of '35 came on the general prosecution of the press. Rollin was advocate in the defence. There were warm words between Armand Carrel and his friend Dupont, the lawyer, and there was at one time apprehension of a duel.”
”The position of Armand Carrel with Thiers, his former colleague, was, at that time, a singular one,” remarked Rollin. ”Each seemed to be on the constant search for opportunities to exasperate the other. The editor a.s.sailed the Minister in his columns, and the Minister retaliated by an arrest. Carrel censured and ridiculed Thiers, though he respected his abilities, and Thiers feared and hated Carrel, though he admired his talents.”
”It was about this time that Fieschi exploded his infernal machine at the King, was it not?” asked Flocon. ”Thiers arrested Carrel then, I know.”
”It was on the 28th of July of '35, at ten in the morning, on the Boulevard du Temple. This was the second attempt on the King's life, the first having been that of Bergeron, in November of '33. Carrel was arrested as an accomplice, it was pretended, for every one of these attempts has been attributed to the whole body of the Republicans, while they were utterly ignorant of them until they took place, and then bitterly denounced them. But the Government has made capital out of all these insane attempts, and against the opposition, too.”
”I've heard it a.s.serted,” said Rollin, ”that the Government got up some of those little exhibitions of fireworks for that very purpose. They are quite harmless, so far as the old man is concerned--wonderfully so--and Fieschi was made a perfect fool of, so ridiculously lionized was he by King, Court and Ministers. Our friend Marie was advocate for that wretched old man, Pepin, Fieschi's accomplice, more a ghost than a living creature.”
”You are entirely right, friend Rollin,” said Louis Blanc, ”in the idea that every one of these attempts strengthens the Government and recoils on the opposition. No one should so vigilantly and vigorously watch for and suppress such attempts as we. Heaven defend the old despot from the a.s.sa.s.sin's weapon, as it seems well inclined to do, or the deed will surely be attributed to us. Every unsuccessful attempt at a.s.sa.s.sination is viewed like an unsuccessful attempt at revolt on the part of the opposition, and injures our cause accordingly. Better never to attempt than never to succeed.”
”Do you think it true, Louis, as was reported,” asked Marrast, ”that as soon as the smoke of Fieschi's explosion swept off, and the old man found himself standing unharmed amid a heap of slain and mangled, Marshal Mortier and Colonel Rieussec being among the killed, his first exclamation was this, with, ill-concealed gratification, 'Now I shall get my appanages and the dotations for the boys.'”
”Nothing is more probable,” said Louis Blanc. ”That old man has but one impulse--selfishness, and but one attachment--to his family--his family, because it is his. His purse and family have for years been his sole objects of love. To aggrandize his own has been for years his sole end and aim. He parcels out the thrones and kingdoms of Europe among his children as if it were but a family estate.”
”What thoughtful selfishness!” exclaimed Flocon; ”and at a moment, too, when he had but just escaped an awful death, and all around him flowed the blood and lay scattered the lacerated limbs of his faithful servants, either dead or dying with groans and shrieks of most agonizing torture, and all because of himself; how disgraceful that, at such a terrible moment, his first thought should have been of the few more francs his trembling hand was striving to tear from a people by whom he had already been made the richest man in Europe, and which the occurrence of this dreadful event might serve to win for him.”
”Well,” said Rollin, ”whether this event aided to win the appanages and dotations, and was so designed, or not, it is very sure the aforesaid appanages and dotations were secured. No wonder that such attempts succeed each other so rapidly--one every year, at the least! When was the next, Louis--that of Alibaud, I think?”
”That took place about sunset on the 25th of June, '36,” was the reply.
”Alibaud discharged a walking-stick-gun at the King, as he left the Tuileries, on his way to Neuilly, at the corner of the Porte Royale.
That Alibaud was a mere boy, and a very interesting and intelligent boy, too; but for some mysterious cause he did not find favor with the court, as did Fieschi. He evidently attempted the a.s.sa.s.sination from conviction, from a feeling of manifest destiny. After his failure, he only wished to die, and to die at once. All who have succeeded Alibaud have been but vulgar cut-throats.”
”In what year was the insurrection of Armand Barbes and Martin Bernard?”
asked Flocon. ”That proved most disastrous to our cause.”
”That was in '39, May, I think,” answered Rollin. ”Barbes, Blanqui and Bernard were arraigned as leaders. Marie and myself were advocates for Barbes. Blanqui was sentenced to death and Barbes to the galleys for life. But we obtained commutation of penalty for both.”
”And where is to be the end of all these things?” asked Marrast, gloomily, as he continued pacing the chamber with folded arms, his head resting on his bosom. ”Are the ten years on which we have now entered to be characterized by the fruitless efforts of the past? Are the people of France again, and again, and again to strike for freedom, only to be stricken into the dust and trampled beneath the armed heel of a despot's myrmidons? Are the streets of Lyons, Paris and Ma.r.s.eilles again to be drenched with the life-blood of their dwellers, poured out as freely as water and as fruitlessly? Are we all again, for full ten years, to toil, strive, struggle and suffer; to be hunted down like the vilest criminals, and, like criminals, plunged into the most pestilential dungeons; to be stripped like slaves of our hard-won earnings, and to be deprived of the most humble franchises of men claiming at all to be free; to be treated with scorn and contumely, and to be debarred the exercise of those common rights, which, like air and water, belong to all; I say, brothers, are all these scenes to be repeated during the ten years on which we have now entered, as they have been witnessed during the ten years now past?”
”You speak sadly, Armand,” observed Rollin.
”Not so sadly as I feel. I have listened with attention to the recapitulation of the political events of the past ten years in France; and most plainly, and as sadly as plainly, does the result prove that every movement in our cause has been as premature as it has been unsuccessful.”
”May we not gather wisdom, which shall conduct us to success in the future, from the very errors and disasters of the past?” remarked Flocon.
”Alas!” despondingly replied Marrast, ”what is there in our present to promise a bright future more than was in our past to promise us a bright present? Our great leaders of another generation have all left us, one after another--all have dropped into their graves. The cold marble has closed over their venerable brows, and they rest well. Yet they died and made no sign of hope. On us, young, inexperienced and rash, has devolved their task; but the mantle of their power and virtue has not, alas! descended with that task to aid in its momentous accomplishment.
General Lamarque's sun went down in clouds. Midnight, deeper than Egyptian darkness, brooded over the delirious deathbed of Lafayette.
Armand Carrel fell without hope; and are we wiser than they? How often, oh! how often have I listened to the words of wisdom that fell from those eloquent lips, even as a boy reverently listens to a parent--for such was Armand Carrel to me. Upon this very spot have I stood, in that very chair has he sat, that chair, which, with mingled shame and pride, I reflect is now filled by me--shame, that it is filled in a manner so unworthy of him--pride, that I should have been deemed fit, after him to fill it at all--in that very chair, I say, has his n.o.ble form reclined, when he for hours, even from night till the next day's dawn, dwelt with sorrowful eloquence upon his country's present, and looked forward with gloomy foreboding and prediction for the future. It almost seems to me that this mighty shade is with us now!”