Louis Philippe

Tactics of General Marmont.

General Marmont, in preparation for assuming the offensive, concentrated the whole of his little band around the Tuileries, and constructed for himself a fortified camp in the Carrousel protected by eight guns. A few troops were forwarded to him from Vincennes and Versailles, so that he could display for the defense of that central point thirty-six hundred soldiers of the Guard, tried men, upon whom he could rely. Six hundred of these were horsemen. Forming three columns, he sent one along the banks of the river to recapture the Hôtel de Ville, to demolish all the barricades, and disperse the armed bands, until they reached the Place of the Bastile. Another was to advance to the same point by the boulevards. The third was to force its way through the Rue St. Honoré to the Market of the Innocents. Along these three lines the battle now raged fiercely, with equal determination on each side. The scene of tumult, carnage, horror, which ensued can neither be described nor imagined. The streets were narrow. Every house was a fortress, from whose windows a deadly fire was poured upon the troops. The combatants, inflamed by the fury and terror of the strife, neither asked nor granted quarter. Hour after hour they fought, Frenchmen against Frenchmen, brother against brother, and the pavements were clotted with blood. Barricades were taken and retaken. There were triumphant charges and murderous repulses.

Chapter VII

Charles X. Dethroned

1830

Night came, the night of the 28th of July, 1830. The royal troops, having really accomplished nothing of any moment in their conflict with the insurgent people, were ordered to avail themselves of the darkness to retreat from all the positions they had gained. Thus, before midnight the troops, virtually defeated, sought refuge in concentrating themselves in their fortified camp at the Carrousel. It was with no little difficulty that some of them fought their way back to regain the quarters which they had left.

Progress of the insurrection.

Two parties must ever co-operate in such scenes as we are now describing. There must be not only bold men, with arms in their hands, to achieve, but there must be sagacious men in council to plan and direct. During the day a sort of provisional government was established by the insurgents, which continued in session until midnight. The voices of the street cannon had summoned Lafayette to Paris, and he consecrated his world-wide renown to the cause of popular rights, for which he had fought in America, and to which he had been ever true in Europe. M. Lafitte, the wealthiest banker in Paris, consecrated his fortune to the cause. M. Thiers, never prone to follow any lead but that of his own vigorous mind, though he had united with other journalists in recommending resistance, now objected to any resort to violence, and demanded that the resistance should be legal only. Being outvoted by his more practical compeers – Lafayette, Lafitte, and Mauguin – he retired in displeasure, and, abandoning the conflict, took refuge in the country at some distance from Paris. To his remonstrances Lafayette replied in language which one would deem convincing to every mind:

"Legal means have been cut short by the ordinances in the Moniteur, and the discharges of artillery you hear in the streets. Victory can alone now decide the question."

Night of tumult.

There was but little sleep for any one in Paris that night. A population of a million and a half of people, crowded in narrow streets, was in a state of the wildest excitement. The air was filled with rumors of the approaching forces of the monarchy. The tramp of armed men, the rumbling of the ponderous enginery of war, the clamor of workmen throwing up barricades, the shouts of the mob, and often, rising above all, the soul-stirring strains of the "Marseillaise Hymn," pealed forth from thousands of impassioned lips, together with the darkness of the night, the flash of torches, the blaze of bonfires, presented a spectacle sublime beyond comprehension. The "Marseillaise Hymn" is unquestionably the most powerful composition in the world, both in its words and its music, to rouse the populace to a frenzy of enthusiasm. We give below a vigorous translation of the first verse:

The "Marseillaise Hymn."

Ye sons of France, awake to glory!Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise!Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,Behold their tears and hear their cries!Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding,With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,Affright and desolate the land,While peace and liberty lie bleeding?(Chorus.) To arms! to arms, ye brave!Th' avenging sword unsheath!March on! march on! all hearts resolvedOn liberty or death!

But no translation can equal the force of the original.

Consternation of the court.

The king and his courtiers at St. Cloud were struck with consternation as they received the tidings of the general and successful revolt. The booming of the cannon in the streets of Paris could be distinctly heard. With his spy-glass, from the heights behind the chateau, the king could see the tri-color, the representative of deadly hostility to his dynasty, unfurled from the Hôtel de Ville and from the towers of Nôtre Dame, and then from more than twenty other prominent points in the city. At four o'clock in the afternoon a dispatch from General Marmont informed the king of the desperate state of affairs. The Royal Guard, composed largely of Swiss mercenaries, had been faithful to discipline. But the troops of the line, all Frenchmen, had in many instances refused to fire upon the insurgents.

The royal family.

The fearful and unexpected crisis roused the king to action. It is said he displayed more of coolness and energy than any of his ministers. Orders were sent to General Marmont to concentrate his forces as speedily as possible at the Tuileries. Agents were dispatched to all the divisions of the Royal Guard garrisoned in the towns in the vicinity of Paris to break camp immediately, and move with the utmost haste to the capital. The king's eldest son, the Duke d'Angoulême, of whom we have previously spoken as having married his cousin, the unhappy but heroic and very noble daughter of Louis XVI., was with his father at St. Cloud. The duchess was absent. The widow also of the king's second son, the Duke de Berri, was at St. Cloud with her two children, a daughter ten years old, and the little boy, the Duke of Bordeaux (Count de Chambord), nine years of age. These constituted the royal family.

"While Charles X. thought only of inspiring all around him with his own fatal security, a bold scheme was concocting, almost before his eyes, in the apartments of Madame de Gentaul. Convinced of the old monarch's impotence to defend his dynasty, General Vincent had resolved to save royalty without the king's co-operation, unknown to the king, and, if necessary, despite the king. He went to Madame de Gentaul and set forth to her that, in the existing state of things, the fate of the monarchy depended upon a heroic resolve, and he therefore proposed to her to take the Duchess de Berri and her son, the Duke of Bordeaux, to Paris. He suggested that they should take Neuilly in their way, get hold of the Duke of Orleans, and oblige him by main force to take part in the hazard of the enterprise. They should then enter Paris by the faubourgs, and the Duchess de Berri, exhibiting the royal child to the people, should confide him to the generosity of the combatants. Madame de Gentaul approved of this scheme. In spite of its adventurous character, or rather for that very reason, it won upon the excitable imagination of the Duchess de Berri, and every thing was arranged for carrying it into execution. But the infidelity of a confederate put Charles X. in possession of the plot, and it broke down."22

The Duchess de Berri.

The Duke d'Angoulême, called the Dauphin, was a very respectable man, without any distinguishing character. His wife, disciplined in the school not merely of sorrow, but of such woes as few mortals have ever been called to endure, had developed a character of truly heroic mould. The Duchess de Berri was young, beautiful, and fascinating. Her courage, enthusiasm, and love of adventure, as subsequently displayed in the eyes of all Europe, were perhaps never surpassed. Every generous heart will cherish emotions of regret in view of that frailty which has consigned her name to reproach. The two children of the Duchess de Berri were too young to comprehend the nature of the events which were transpiring. Even while the bloody strife was in progress, and the din of the conflict reached their ears, these two innocent children were amusing themselves in a game in which Mademoiselle led the rebels, and the Duke of Bordeaux at the head of his Royal Guard repulsed them.

The cabinet ministers, under the protection of the troops, were in permanent session at the Tuileries. Prince Polignac, a thoroughly impractical man, who was at the head of the Government, seems not at all to have comprehended the true state of affairs. When General Marmont sent him word, on the evening of the 28th, that the troops of the line were fraternizing with the people, he is reported to have replied, with extraordinary coolness and simplicity, "Well, if the troops have gone over to the insurgents, we must fire upon the troops."

Embarrassment of the officers.

Many of these officers found themselves in a very painful situation, embarrassed by the apparently conflicting claims of duty – fidelity to their sovereign on the one hand, and fidelity to the rights of the people on the other. Some, like General Marmont, remained faithful to their colors, some silently abandoned their posts, but refused to enter the ranks of the people to fight against their former comrades; some openly passed over to the people and aided them in the struggle, thus with certainty forfeiting their own lives should the royal troops conquer. The following letter from Count de Raoul to Prince de Polignac, resigning his commission, will give the reader some idea of the embarrassments with which these honorable men were agitated:

Resignation of Count de Raoul.

"Monseigneur, – After a day of massacres and disasters, entered on in defiance of all laws, divine and human, and in which I have taken part only from respect to human considerations, for which I reproach myself, my conscience imperiously forbids me to serve a moment longer. I have given, in the course of my life, proofs sufficiently numerous of my devotion to the king, to warrant me, without exposing my intentions to unjust suspicions, to draw a distinction between what emanates from him and the atrocities which are committed in his name. I have the honor to request, monseigneur, that you will lay before the king my resignation of my commission as captain of his guard."

In the confusion of those hours it appears that this letter did not reach its destination. M. Polignac writes: "I never received this letter, I would have sent it back to its author. In the moment of danger no one's resignation is accepted."

The troops desert.

The dismal night of the 28th passed quickly away, as both parties summoned their mightiest energies for the death-struggle on the morrow. The truce of a few hours, which darkness and exhaustion compelled, was favorable to the people. I think it was Madame de Staël who made the shrewd remark that "there is nothing so successful as success." The real victory which the people had achieved not only inspired the combatants with new courage, but induced thousands, who had hesitated, to swell their ranks, and the troops of the line very generally deserted the defense of the Government and passed over to the people.

Early in the morning of the 29th the heroic little band of the Guard stationed at the Tuileries – heroic in their devotion to discipline, though unconsciously maintaining a bad cause – received a reinforcement of fifteen hundred infantry and six hundred cavalry. This, however, did but little more than make up for the losses in killed and wounded of the preceding day, and as most of the troops of the line had now gone over to the people, the cause of the Government seemed hopeless. As General Marmont counted up his resources, he found that he had but five thousand effective men and eight guns to defend his position at the Tuileries. A hundred thousand combatants, most of them well armed and disciplined, and renowned for bravery, surrounded him. Military men who may be familiar with the localities, either by observation or from maps, may be interested in seeing how General Marmont disposed of his force to meet the emergency.

Tactics of General Marmont.

A Swiss battalion occupied the Carrousel. Two more Swiss battalions were stationed in the Louvre, a fortress which could not easily be stormed. Two battalions were placed in the Rue de Rivoli, to guard the northern entrance to the Carrousel. Three battalions of the Guard and a regiment of cavalry occupied the garden of the Tuileries and the spacious Place de la Concorde, outside of the iron railing. Two battalions of the line, who had not yet abandoned their colors, were stationed in the Rue Castiglione, which abuts upon the garden near its central northern entrance.

By this arrangement General Marmont, if sorely pressed, could rapidly concentrate his whole force, either in the Carrousel or in the garden of the Tuileries, where he could easily for some time hold an army at bay. Should retreat be found necessary, there was open before him the broad avenue of the Champs Elysées. The ground which the royal troops occupied was all that remained under the control of the Government. The whole of the remainder of Paris was in possession of the insurgents.

The struggle continued.

Interview between General Marmont and M. Arago.

It was well known that General Marmont could feel but little sympathy in the cause which, in obedience to his oath, he felt compelled to defend. The insurgents were now pressing the troops on every side. An incessant fire of musketry, accompanied by loud shouts, indicated the renewed severity with which the battle was beginning to rage. The Provisional Government, anxious to arrest, if possible, the carnage inevitable upon the continuance of the struggle, dispatched M. Arago, the celebrated philosopher, who was an intimate friend of General Marmont, to confer with him upon the subject. The philosopher was introduced to the warrior, seated upon his horse in the middle of the Carrousel, surrounded by his staff of officers. The following is, in substance, the conversation which is represented as having taken place between them. M. Arago first urged General Marmont to imitate the troops of the line, and, with his Guard, espouse the cause of the people, which was the cause of liberty and justice. The general firmly and somewhat passionately replied,

"No! propose nothing to me which will dishonor me."

M. Arago then urged him to abandon a bad cause, to surrender his command, retire to St. Cloud, and return his sword to the king, and no longer to fight in defense of despotic measures, and against the people, who were struggling only for their rights. The general replied:

Firmness of Marmont.

"You know very well whether or not I approve of those fatal and odious ordinances. But I am a soldier. I am in the post which has been intrusted to me. To abandon that post under the fire of sedition, to desert my troops, to be unfaithful to my king, would be desertion, flight, ignominy. My fate is frightful. But it is the decree of destiny, and I must go through with it."23

While they were conversing, the battle was still raging at the outposts with the clamor of shouts, musketry, and booming cannon. An officer came, covered with dust, and bleeding from his wounds, to urge that reinforcements should be dispatched to one of the outposts which was hotly assailed. "I have none to send," said the general, in tones of sadness and despair. "They must defend themselves."

These two illustrious men, in heart both in sympathy, but by the force of circumstances placed in opposite parties, arrayed in deadly strife, after a long and melancholy interview separated, with the kindest feelings, each to act his part, and each alike convinced that the Bourbon monarchy was inevitably and rapidly approaching its end. The Provisional Government, so hastily and imperfectly organized, had also sent a deputation to the ministers assembled in the Tuileries. But Polignac and his associates refused them admission. The decisive decree was then passed by the Provisional Government that the king and his ministers were public enemies, and orders were issued to press the royal troops on every side with the utmost vigor.

Success of the insurgents.

The Hôtel de Ville became the head-quarters of the insurgents, and the Provisional Government transferred itself there. The military government of Paris was given to Lafayette. The royal troops were speedily driven in to the vicinity of the Louvre, and the situation of the ministers in the Tuileries became alarming. They decided that it was necessary for them to retire to St. Cloud. Before setting out they sent for General Marmont, that they might ascertain his means of defense.

"You may tell the king," said General Marmont, "that, come what may, and though the entire population of Paris should rise up against me, I can hold this position for fifteen days without further reinforcements. This position is impregnable."

Capture of artillery.

As this statement was repeated to the king he was much cheered by it. The monarchy was much stronger in the provinces than in Paris. The populace of the capital could do but little outside of its walls. A few days would give an opportunity to assemble numerous regiments of the Guard from the various positions they occupied in the vicinity of the metropolis. But affairs were rapidly assuming a more fatal aspect in Paris than General Marmont had deemed possible. The whole of the city, except the ground held by the royal troops around the Tuileries, was in the hands of the insurgents. An impetuous band of students from the Polytechnic School rushed upon and took every piece of artillery in the Rue St. Honoré.

The regiment placed in the Rue Castiglione, to guard the great entrance into the garden of the Tuileries from the boulevards, through the Rue de la Paix, opened its ranks, and the triumphant populace, with shouts which rang through Paris, entered the iron-railed inclosure. These disasters caused the withdrawal of a portion of the troops who had for some time been defending the Louvre from the colonnade opposite the Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, where the insurgents were posted in great strength. Thus encouraged, the insurgents rushed vehemently across the street, and took the Louvre by storm. Flooding the palace like an ocean tide, they opened a deadly fire from the inner windows upon the Swiss in the Carrousel.

Retreat of the Royalists.

These brave men, thus assailed where successful resistance was hopeless, were thrown into a panic. With bullets whistling around them, deafened by the roar of the battle and the shouts of infuriated men, and seeing their comrades dropping every moment upon the pavement dead or wounded, they fled in wild disorder through the arch of the Tuileries into the garden, into which, from the side gate, as we have mentioned, the insurgents were pouring.

All was lost, and, as it were, in a moment. Such are the vicissitudes of battle. General Marmont rushed to the rear, the post of danger and of honor in a retreat. He did every thing which skill and courage could do to restore order, and succeeded in withdrawing his little band into the grand avenue of the Champs Elysées, through which they rapidly marched out of Paris, leaving the metropolis in the hands of the insurgents. In the midst of the storm of death which swept their retreating ranks General Marmont was the last to leave the garden of the Tuileries. One hundred of the Swiss troops, who had been posted in a house at the junction of the Rue de Richelieu and the Rue St. Honoré, were unfortunately left behind. They perished to a man.

Did these heroic troops do right in thus proving faithful to their oaths, their colors, and their king? Did these heroic people do right in thus resisting tyranny and contending for liberty at the price of their blood? Alas for man! Let us learn a lesson of charity.

General Marmont and the king.

General Marmont having collected his bleeding and exhausted band in the Bois de Boulogne, where pursuit ceased, galloped across the wood to St. Cloud, in anguish of spirit, to announce to the king his humiliating defeat.

"Sire," said this veteran of a hundred battles, with moistened eyes and trembling lips, "it is my painful duty to announce to your majesty that I have not been able to maintain your authority in Paris. The Swiss, to whom I intrusted the defense of the Louvre, seized with a sudden panic, have abandoned that important post. Carried away myself by the torrent of fugitives, I was unable to rally the troops until they arrived at the arch of the Étoile, and I have ordered them to continue their retreat to St. Cloud. A ball directed at me has killed the horse of my aid-de-camp by my side. I regret that it did not pass through my head. Death would be nothing to me compared to the sad spectacle which I have witnessed."

Consternation at St. Cloud.

The ministers were called in. All were struck with consternation. The chateau of St. Cloud is but six miles from Paris. Thousands of men, maddened, savage, ripe for any deeds of outrage, might in an hour surround the castle and cut of all possibility of retreat. There was no time for deliberation. As usual on such occasions, confused and antagonistic views were hurriedly offered. M. de Ranville, who had the evening before advised measures of compromise, was now for a continuance of the conflict.

"The throne is overturned, we are told," said he; "the evil is great, but I believe it is exaggerated; I can not believe that the monarchy is to fall without a combat. Happen what may, Paris is not France. If, however, the genius of evil is again to prove triumphant, if the legitimate throne is again to fall, let it fall with honor; shame alone has no future." These sentiments were strongly supported by the Duke d'Angoulême.

Recall of the ordinances.

The king, however, either from a constitutional want of heroism, or from a praiseworthy desire to save France from the horrors of a protracted civil war, refused to appeal any longer to the energies of the sword. He hoped, however, that by dismissing the obnoxious ministers, and revoking the ordinances, the people might be appeased. A decree in accordance with this resolve was immediately prepared and signed. A new ministry was also announced, consisting of very popular men.

It is said that the Duke d'Angoulême paced the floor, quivering with indignation, as this decree was signed, and that the discarded ministers left the council-chamber "with tears in their eyes and despair in their hearts." The new ordinances were hastily dispatched to the Provisional Government at the Hôtel de Ville. "It is too late," was the reply. "The throne of Charles X. has melted away in blood." Some few of the members, dreading the anarchy which might follow the demolition of the throne, urged that the envoys might be received, as it was still possible to come to an accommodation. But their voices were drowned by cries from all parts of the hall, "It is too late. We will have no more transactions with the Bourbons."

Scenes of confusion.

It would only bewilder the reader to attempt a narrative of the scenes of desperation, recrimination, confusion, and dismay which simultaneously ensued. M. de Montmart, whom the king had appointed in place of Prince Polignac as the new President of the Council, a noble of vast wealth, and one of the bravest of men, set out in his shirt-sleeves, disguised as a peasant, hoping to gain access to the Provisional Government, and, by his personal influence, to save the monarchy. His mission was in vain. General Marmont, to spare the useless shedding of blood, entered into a truce – some said a capitulation – with the revolutionary forces. The Duke d'Angoulême, in his rage, called the venerable marshal to his face a traitor. In endeavoring to wrest from him his sword, the duke severely wounded his own hand. General Marmont was put under arrest; but soon, by the more considerate king, was released.

Retreat to Versailles.