CHAPTER XI.
THE PRISON GOVERNOR.
Billet looked at the mossgrown edifice, resembling the monsters offable covered with scales. He counted the embrasures where the greatguns might be run out again and the wall-guns which opened theirominous eye to peer through the loopholes. He shook his head, recallingFlesselles' words.
"We'll never get in," he muttered.
"Why never?" questioned a voice at his elbow.
Turning, he saw a wild-looking beggar, in rags, but with eyesglittering like stars in their hollow sockets.
"Because it is hard to take such a pile by main strength."
"Taking the Bastile is not a matter of strength," replied themendicant, "but an act of faith: have as little faith as a grain ofmustard-seed and yet you can overturn a mountain. Believe we can do it,and--Good night, Bastile!"
"Wait a bit," muttered Billet, fumbling for Marat's recommendation inhis pocket.
"Wait," reiterated the vagabond, mistaking his mind: "Yes, I canunderstand you being willing to wait, for you are a farmer, and havealways had more than enough to make you fat. But look at my mates: thedeaths-heads and raw-bones surrounding us; see their veins dried up,count their bones through the holes in their tatters, and ask them ifthey know what waiting in patience means?"
"This man speaks glibly, but he frightens me," remarked Pitou.
"He does not frighten me," replied Billet. Then turning to thestranger, he went on: "I say, patience, because in a quarter-hour yetwe shall do."
"I can't call that much," answered the vagrant smiling, "but how muchbetter off will we be then?"
"I shall have visited the Bastile by then," rejoined thefarmer-revolutionist. "I shall know how strong the garrison is and thegovernor's intention--I shall in short have a glimpse of how we can getin."
"It will do, if you see how to get out."
"Well, as to that, if I do not come out, I know a man who will fetch meout."
"Who is he?"
"Gonchon, the People's Spokesman, their orator, their Mirabeau."
"You don't know him," said the man, his eyes flashing fire. "So, how doyou make that out?"
"I am going to know him. I was told that the first person I addressedon Bastile Square would take me to him: you are on the spot, lead me tohim."
"What do you want of him?"
"To hand him this paper from Surgeon Marat, whom I have just left atthe City Hall, whence he was marching to the Invalides to get musketsfor his twenty thousand men."
"In this case, hand over the paper. I am Gonchon. Friends," added thevagabond as Billet drew back a step, "here is a chap who does not knowme and asks if I am really Gonchon."
The mass burst into laughter; it seemed impossible that their favoriteshould not be known to all.
"Long life to Gonchon!" was the shout.
"There you are," said Billet, passing the paper to him.
"Mates," said the popular leader, having read, and slapping the beareron the shoulder, "this is a brother, whom Marat recommends. So you mayrely on him. What is your name, _Pal_?"
"Billet."
"My name is _Ax_--do you see? between us I hope we shall cut something!"
The mob laughed at the ominous pun.
"Ay, somebody will get cut!" was the cry, "How are we to set about it?"
"We are going right into there," answered Gonchon, pointing to thebuilding.
"That is the right kind of talk," said the farmer; "How many have you,Gonchon?"
"Thirty skeletons."
"Thirty thousand of yours, and twenty coming from the Soldiers'Hospital, ten thousand here; more than enough to succeed if we are tosucceed."
"We shall," replied the beggar king.
"I believe you. Get your men in hand while I go in and summon thegovernor to surrender. If he should, so much the better as it willspare bloodshed; if not, the blood will fall on his head and it isbad luck these times. Ask those German dragoons who hewed down theinoffensive."
"How long will you be engaged with the governor?"
"As long as I can make it, so as to have the castle investedthoroughly; if possible, the moment I come out, begin the onset."
"Enough said."
"You don't distrust me?" said the countryman, holding out his hand tothe city ragamuffin.
"I, distrust you?" replied the other, shaking with his emaciatedhand the plump one of the farmer with a vigor he had not expected;"Wherefore? With a word or a sign, I could have you ground into dustthough you were sheltered by yon towers, which to-morrow will existnot. Were you protected by those soldiers, who will be our dead-meat orwe shall be theirs! Go ahead and rely on Gonchon as he does on Billet!"
Convinced, the farmer walked towards the Bastile gateway, while his newcomrade proceeded towards the dwellings, under cheers for "The People'sMirabeau!"
"I never saw the other Mirabeau," thought Pitou, "but ours is nothandsome."
Towards the city, the Bastile presented two twin towers, while itstwo sides faced where the canal runs to-day. The entrance was defendedby an outpost house, two lines of sentinels and two draw-bridges overmoats.
After getting over these obstacles, one reached the Government Yard,where the governor's residence was.
Hence a corridor led to the ditches: another entrance also leading tothe ditches, had a drawbridge, a guardhouse, and an iron grating asportcullis.
At the first entry they stopped Billet but he showed the Flessellesintroduction and they did not turn him back. Perceiving that Pitoufollowed him, as he would have locked steps with him and marched up tothe moon, he said:
"Stay outside: if I do not return it will be well for somebody to bearound to remind the people that I went in."
"Just so; how long shall I wait?"
"An hour."
"What about the casket?" inquired the youth.
"If I do not come out, if Gonchon does not take the Bastile, or if,having taken it, I am not to be found--tell Dr. Gilbert, who may befound--that men from Paris stole the box he entrusted to me five yearsago; that on arriving in town I learnt he was put in the Bastile whenceI strove to rescue him but left my skin, which was entirely at hisservice."
"Very good, Father Billet," said the peasant; "it is rather long and Iam afraid of forgetting it."
"I will repeat it."
"Better write it," said a voice hard by.
"I cannot write," rejoined Billet.
"I can, for I am clerk to the Chatelet Prison. My name is Maillard,Stanislaus Maillard."
He was a man of forty-five, tall and slim, grave, and clad in blackas became such a functionary; he drew a writing-case from his pocketcontaining writing materials.
"He looks devilish like an undertaker," muttered Pitou.
"You say," said the clerk, imperturbably writing, "that men from Paristook from your dwelling a casket entrusted to you by Dr. Gilbert? thatis an offense, to begin with."
"They belonged to the Paris Police."
"Infamous theft," said Maillard. "Here is your memorandum, young man,"he added, giving the note to Ange; "if he be slain, it is to be hopedthat both of us will not. I will do it if you both go down."
"Thank you," said Billet, giving his hand to the clerk who grasped itwith more power than one might accredit to the meager frame.
"So I may rely on you?"
"As on Marat, and Gonchon."
"Such triplets are not born everyday," thought Pitou, who only said:"Be prudent, Father Billet!"
"Do not forget that the most prudent thing in France is courage," saidthe farmer with his blunt eloquence, sometimes startling in his roughbody.
He passed the first line of sentinels, while Pitou backed out. At thebridge he had to parley, but it was lowered on his showing his pass,and the iron grating was raised. Behind the portcullis was the governor.
This inner yard was the prisoners' exercise ground. Eight giant towersguarded it: no window opened into it. The sun never penetrated itswell-like circuit where the pavement was damp, almost muddy.
Here, a clock, the face upheld by chained captives in carving, droppedthe seconds like water oozing through a ceiling on the dungeon slabs.At the bottom of this pit, the prisoner, lost in the stony gulf, wouldglance up at the inexorable nakedness and sue to be led back into hiscell.
Governor Launay was about fifty years of age; he wore a greylinseywoolsey suit this day; it was crossed by a red sash of the Orderof St. Louis, and he carried a swordcane. He was a bad man: Linguet'sMemoirs had just shown him up in a sad light and he was hated almost asmuch as the jail. His father had been governor before him.
The officers here were on the purchase system, so that the officialstried to make all the money they could squeeze out of the prisoners andtheir friends. The governor, chief warder, doubled his 60,000 francsappointments by extortion.
In the way of meanness Launay out-did his foregoers: he may have hadto pay more highly for the post than his father and so had to puton the screw to retrieve his outlay. He fed his household out of theprisoners' rations; he reduced the firing allowance and doubled thehire of furniture. Maybe he foresaw that he was not to enjoy the berthlong.
He had the right to pass a hundred casks of wine into Paris free ofduty. He sold it to a wine-shopkeeper who got in the best vintage andsupplied him for the prisoners with vinegar.
The latter had one relief, one pleasure--a little garden made ona bastion where they got a whiff of sweet air and saw flowers andgrass and sunshine. He let this out to a truck-gardener, robbing theprisoners for fifty livres a-year.
On the other hand he was yielding to rich captives: he let one furnishhis room in his own style and have any visitors he liked.
For further particulars see "The Bastile Unveiled."
For all this Launay was brave.
He might be pale, but he was calm, although the storm had raged againsthim from the previous evening. He felt aware of the riot becoming arevolt for the waves broke at the foot of his castle wall.
It is true that he had four cannon and a garrison of old soldiers andSwiss--with only one unarmed man confronting him. For Billet had handedhis fowling-piece to Ange on entering the stronghold.
He understood that a weapon might get him into trouble beyond thebarrier.
With a glance he remarked everything; the governor's calm and menacingattitude; the Swiss ranked in the guardhouses; the Veterans on theplatforms, and the silent bustle of the artillerists loading up theircaissons with ammunition.
The sentinels had their muskets on their shoulders and their officerscarried drawn swords.
As the commander stood still, Billet was obliged to go to him. Thegrating closed behind the people's parliamentarian with an uglygrinding of metal on metal which made him shudder to the marrow, bravethough he was.
"What do you want again?" challenged Launay.
"Again?" took up Billet. "It seems to me that this is the first time youhave seen me, so that you cannot be very tired of me."
"I was told you come from the City Hall and I have just had adeputation from there to get me to promise not to open fire. I promisedthat much and so I had the guns drawn in."
"I was on the square as you did so, and I----"
"You thought I was giving way to the calls of the crowd?"
"It looked that way," replied the farmer.
"Did I not tell you that they would believe me just such a coward?"said Launay, turning round to his officers. "Who do you come fromthen?" he demanded of Billet.
"I come on behalf of the people," rejoined the visitor proudly.
"That is all very well," sneered Launay, smiling; "but you must haveshown some other warrant, for otherwise you would not have passed thefirst dead-line of sentries."
"True, I have a pass from your friend Flesselles."
"Flesselles? why do you dub him my friend?" exclaimed the prisonwarden, looking at the speaker to read to the bottom of his mind. "Howdo you conclude that he is a friend of mine?"
"I supposed as much."
"Is that all? never mind. Let us see your safe-conduct."
Billet presented the paper which Launay read more than once in order tocatch a hidden meaning or concealed lines; he even held it up to thelight to see if there was secret writing.
"Is that all? are you perfectly sure? nothing by word of mouth inaddition?"
"Not a bit."
"Strange!" said Launay, plunging his glance by a loophole on BastileSquare. "Then tell me your want and be quick."
"The people want you to give up the Bastile."
"What do you say?" cried Launay, turning quickly as if he must bemistaken in his hearing.
"I summon you in the people's name to give up the Bastile."
"Queer animals the people," sneered Launay, snapping his fingers. "Whatdo they want with the Bastile?"
"To demolish it."
"Why, what the mischief is the Bastile to the people? is any commonman ever shut up herein? why, the people ought to bless every stoneof the Bastile. Who are locked up here? philosophers, learned men,aristocrats, statesmen, princes--all the enemies of the dregs."
"This only proves that the people are not selfish and want to do goodto others."
"It is plain that you are not a soldier, my friend," said the otherwith a kind of pity.
"It is true and come fresh from the country."
"For you do not know what the Bastile is: come with me and I will showyou."
"He is going to pull the spring of some trap which will open beneath myfeet," thought the adventurer, "and then good-bye, Old Billet!"
But he was intrepid and did not wince as he prepared to accede to theinvitation.
"In the first place," continued Launay, "it is well to know that Ihave enough powder in the store to blow up the castle and lay half thesuburbs in ashes."
"I knew that," was the tranquil reply.
"Do you see these cannon? They rake this gallery, which is defended bya guardhouse, and by two ditches only to be crossed by draw-bridges;lastly there is a portcullis."
"Oh, I am not saying that the Bastile will be badly defended, but thatit will be well attacked."
"To proceed: here is a postern opening on the moats: observe thethickness of the walls. Forty feet here and fifteen above. You see thatthough the people have nails they will break against such walls."
"I am not saying that the people will demolish the Bastile to master itbut that, having mastered it, they will demolish it," said the leaderof the revolutionists.
"Let us go upstairs," said the governor, leading up thirty steps, wherehe paused to say: "This embrasure opens on the passage by which youwould be bound to come. It is defended by one rampart gun, but itenjoys a fair reputation. You know the song:
"'Oh, my sweet-voiced Sackbut, I love your dear song?'"
"Certainly, I have heard it, but I do not think this a time to sing it,or anything else."
"Stay; Marshal Saxe called this gun his Sackbut, because it sang theonly music he cared anything for. This is a historical fact. But let usgo on."
"Oh," said Billet when upon the tower top, "you have not dismounted thecannon, but merely drawn them in. I shall have to tell the people so."
"The cannon were mounted here by the King's command and by that alonecan they be dismounted."
"Governor Launay," returned Billet, feeling himself rise to the levelof the emergency, "the true sovereign is yonder and I counsel you toobey it."
He pointed to the grey-looking masses, spotted with blood from thenight's battling, and reflecting the dying sunlight on their weapons upto the very moats.
"Friend, a man cannot know two masters," replied the royalist, holdinghis head up haughtily: "I, the Governor of the Bastile, know but one:the Sixteenth Louis, who put his sign-manual at the foot of the patentwhich made me the commander over men and material here."
"Are you not a French citizen?" demanded Billet warmly.
"I am a French nobleman," said the Count of Launay.
"True, you are a soldier, and speak like one."
"You are right," said the gentleman bowing. "I am a soldier and carryout my orders."
"Well, I am a citizen," went on Billet, "and as my duty as such isopposed to yours as the King's soldier, one of us must die. He whofulfills his orders or his duties."
"That is likely, sir."
"So you are determined to fire on the people?"
"Not unless I am fired at. I pledged myself to that effect to LordProvost Flesselles' deputation. You see the guns have been retired, butat the first shot, I will roll one--say this one--forward out of theembrasure with my own hands, train it and point it, and fire with theslow-match you see there."
"If I believed that," said Billet, "before you could commit such acrime----"
"I have told you that I am a soldier and know nothing outside myorders."
"Then, look!" said Billet, drawing Launay to the gap in the battlementsand pointing alternately in two different directions--the main streetfrom the town and the street through the suburbs, "behold those whowill henceforth give you orders."
Launay saw two black, dense, roaring bodies, undulating like snakes,with head and bodies in sight but the rearmost coils still wavingonwards till lost in the hollows of the ground. All the bodies of theseimmense reptiles glittered with the scales. These were the two armiesto which Billet had given the Bastile as the meeting-place, Marat's menand Gonchon's beggars. As they surged forward they brandished theirweapons and yelled blood-curdling cries.
At the sight Launay lost color and said as he raised his cane:
"To your guns!" Then, threatening Billet, he added: "You scoundrel, tocome here and gain time under pretence of a parley, do you know thatyou deserve death?"
Billet saw the attempt to draw the sword from the cane and piercehim; he seized the speaker by the collar and waistband as swift aslightning, and raising him clear off the ground, he replied:
"And you deserve to be hurled down to the bottom of the ditch to besmashed in the mud. But, never mind, thank God I can fight you inanother manner."
At this instant, an immense howl, a universal one, rose in the air likea whirlwind, as Major Losme appeared on the platform.
"Oh, sir, for mercy's sake," he said to Billet: "Show yourself for thepeople there believe something has happened you and they call for you."
Indeed, the name of Billet, set afloat by Pitou, ascended on theclamor.
The farmer let go Launay who replaced the blade in the stick. The threemen hesitated for a moment while the innumerable cries of vengeance andmenace arose.
"Show yourself, sir," said Launay, "not because the noise frightens mebut to prove that I have acted fairly."
The farmer thrust his head out of the porthole, waving his hand.
At this sight the populace burst with cheering: it was in a measureRevolution standing up in Billet's stead as this man of the lowestranks trod the Bastile turret like a master.
"That is well, sir," went on Launay. "Now all is ended between us; youhave no further business here. They ask for you below; go down."
Billet appreciated this moderation on the part of a man who had him inhis power: he went down by the same stairs, the governor following. Themajor remained up there as the governor had whispered some orders tohim.
It was evident that Count Launay had but one wish, that the bearer ofthe flag of truce should be his active enemy as soon as possible.
Without speaking a word the envoy crossed the yard, where he saw thecannoniers were at their pieces and the lintstocks were lighted andsmoking. He stopped before them.
"Friends," he cried, "remember that I came to your commander to staythe shedding of blood, but that he refused me."
"In the King's name, be off from here!" said Launay, stamping his foot.
"Have a care," retorted the farmer: "I am ordered out in the King'sname but I shall return in that of the People. Speak out," he added,turning to the Swiss, "who are you for?"
The foreign soldiers were silent. Launay pointed to the iron door. ButBillet attempted a final effort.
"Governor, in the name of the nation, in the name of your brothers!"
"Brothers? is that what you call them who are bellowing 'Down theBastile, and Death to the Governor?' they may be brothers of yours, butsurely they are none of mine."
"In humanity's, then!"
"Humanity--which urges you to come a hundred thousand strong againstone hundred hapless soldiers immured in these walls and cut theirthroats?"
"But by giving up the Bastile you save their lives."
"And I lose my honor."
Billet was hushed, for the soldierly argument crushed him; but again headdressed the soldiers, saying:
"Surrender, friends, while it is yet time; in another ten minutes itwill be too late."
"I will have you shot unless you are out of this instantly," thunderedLaunay, "as true as I am a noble."
Billet stopped an instant, folded his arms in token of defiance and,crossing glances for the last time with the exasperated governor,walked forth.
Taking the Bastile; Or, Pitou the Peasant Page 12