A Coup d'Etat
Paris had just heard of the disaster at Sedan. A republic had beendeclared. All France was wavering on the brink of this madness whichlasted until after the Commune. From one end of the country to the othereverybody was playing soldier.Cap-makers became colonels, fulfilling the duties of generals; revolversand swords were displayed around big, peaceful stomachs wrapped inflaming red belts; little tradesmen became warriors commanding battalionsof brawling volunteers, and swearing like pirates in order to givethemselves some prestige.The sole fact of handling firearms crazed these people, who up to thattime had only handled scales, and made them, without any reason,dangerous to all. Innocent people were shot to prove that they knew howto kill; in forests which had never seen a Prussian, stray dogs, grazingcows and browsing horses were killed.Each one thought himself called upon to play a great part in militaryaffairs. The cafes of the smallest villages, full of uniformedtradesmen, looked like barracks or hospitals.The town of Canneville was still in ignorance of the maddening news fromthe army and the capital; nevertheless, great excitement had prevailedfor the last month, the opposing parties finding themselves face to face.The mayor, Viscount de Varnetot, a thin, little old man, a conservative,who had recently, from ambition, gone over to the Empire, had seen adetermined opponent arise in Dr. Massarel, a big, full-blooded man,leader of the Republican party of the neighborhood, a high official inthe local masonic lodge, president of the Agricultural Society and of thefiremen's banquet and the organizer of the rural militia which was tosave the country.In two weeks, he had managed to gather together sixty-three volunteers,fathers of families, prudent farmers and town merchants, and everymorning he would drill them in the square in front of the town-hall.When, perchance, the mayor would come to the municipal building,Commander Massarel, girt with pistols, would pass proudly in front of histroop, his sword in his hand, and make all of them cry: "Long live theFatherland!" And it had been noticed that this cry excited the littleviscount, who probably saw in it a menace, a threat, as well as theodious memory of the great Revolution.On the morning of the fifth of September, the doctor, in full uniform,his revolver on the table, was giving a consultation to an old couple, afarmer who had been suffering from varicose veins for the last sevenyears and had waited until his wife had them also, before he wouldconsult the doctor, when the postman brought in the paper.M. Massarel opened it, grew pale, suddenly rose, and lifting his hands toheaven in a gesture of exaltation, began to shout at the top of his voicebefore the two frightened country folks:"Long live the Republic! long live the Republic! long live theRepublic!"Then he fell back in his chair, weak from emotion.And as the peasant resumed: "It started with the ants, which began to runup and down my legs---" Dr. Massarel exclaimed:"Shut up! I haven't got time to bother with your nonsense. The Republichas been proclaimed, the emperor has been taken prisoner, France issaved! Long live the Republic!"Running to the door, he howled:Celeste, quick, Celeste!"The servant, affrighted, hastened in; he was trying to talk so rapidly,that he could only stammer:"My boots, my sword, my cartridge-box and the Spanish dagger which is onmy night-table! Hasten!"As the persistent peasant, taking advantage of a moment's silence,continued, "I seemed to get big lumps which hurt me when I walk," thephysician, exasperated, roared:"Shut up and get out! If you had washed your feet it would not havehappened!"Then, grabbing him by the collar, he yelled at him:"Can't you understand that we are a republic, you brass-plated idiot!"But professional sentiment soon calmed him, and he pushed the bewilderedcouple out, saying:"Come back to-morrow, come back to-morrow, my friends. I haven't anytime to-day."As he equipped himself from head to foot, he gave a series of importantorders to his servant:"Run over to Lieutenant Picart and to Second Lieutenant Pommel, and tellthem that I am expecting them here immediately. Also send me Torchebeufwith his drum. Quick! quick!"When Celeste had gone out, he sat down and thought over the situation andthe difficulties which he would have to surmount.The three men arrived together in their working clothes. The commandant,who expected to see them in uniform, felt a little shocked."Don't you people know anything? The emperor has been taken prisoner,the Republic has been proclaimed. We must act. My position is delicate,I might even say dangerous."He reflected for a few moments before his bewildered subordinates, thenhe continued:"We must act and not hesitate; minutes count as hours in times likethese. All depends on the promptness of our decision. You, Picart, goto the cure and order him to ring the alarm-bell, in order to gettogether the people, to whom I am going to announce the news. You,Torchebeuf beat the tattoo throughout the whole neighborhood as far asthe hamlets of Gerisaie and Salmare, in order to assemble the militia inthe public square. You, Pommel, get your uniform on quickly, just thecoat and cap. We are going to the town-hall to demand Monsieur deVarnetot to surrender his powers to me. Do you understand?Yes.""Now carry out those orders quickly. I will go over to your house withyou, Pommel, since we shall act together."Five minutes later, the commandant and his subordinates, armed to theteeth, appeared on the square, just as the little Viscount de Varnetot,his legs encased in gaiters as for a hunting party, his gun on hisshoulder, was coming down the other street at double-quick time, followedby his three green-coated guards, their swords at their sides and theirguns swung over their shoulders.While the doctor stopped, bewildered, the four men entered the town-halland closed the door behind them."They have outstripped us," muttered the physician, "we must now wait forreenforcements. There is nothing to do for the present."Lieutenant Picart now appeared on the scene."The priest refuses to obey," he said. "He has even locked himself inthe church with the sexton and beadle."On the other side of the square, opposite the white, tightly closed town-hall, stood the church, silent and dark, with its massive oak doorstudded with iron.But just as the perplexed inhabitants were sticking their heads out ofthe windows or coming out on their doorsteps, the drum suddenly began tobe heard, and Torchebeuf appeared, furiously beating the tattoo. Hecrossed the square running, and disappeared along the road leading to thefields.The commandant drew his sword, and advanced alone to half way between thetwo buildings behind which the enemy had intrenched itself, and, wavinghis sword over his head, he roared with all his might:"Long live the Republic! Death to traitors!"Then he returned to his officers.The butcher, the baker and the druggist, much disturbed, were anxiouslypulling down their shades and closing their shops. The grocer alone keptopen.However, the militia were arriving by degrees, each man in a differentuniform, but all wearing a black cap with gold braid, the cap being theprincipal part of the outfit. They were armed with old rusty guns, theold guns which had hung for thirty years on the kitchen wall; and theylooked a good deal like an army of tramps.When he had about thirty men about him, the commandant, in a few words,outlined the situation to them. Then, turning to his staff: "Let usact," he said.The villagers were gathering together and talking the matter over.The doctor quickly decided on a plan of campaign."Lieutenant Picart, you will advance under the windows of this town-halland summon Monsieur de Varnetot, in the name of the Republic, to hand thekeys over to me."But the lieutenant, a master mason, refused:"You're smart, you are. I don't care to get killed, thank you. Thosepeople in there shoot straight, don't you forget it. Do your errandsyourself."The commandant grew very red."I command you to go in the name of discipline!"The lieutenant rebelled:"I'm not going to have my beauty spoiled without knowing why."All the notables, gathered in a group near by, began to laugh. One ofthem cried:"You are right, Picart, this isn't the right time."The doctor then muttered:"Cowards!"And, leaving his sword and his revolver in the hands of a soldier, headvanced slowly, his eye fastened on the windows, expecting any minute tosee a gun trained on him.When he was within a few feet of the building, the doors at both ends,leading into the two schools, opened and a flood of children ran out,.boys from one side, girls from the ether, and began to play around thedoctor, in the big empty square, screeching and screaming, and making somuch noise that he could not make himself heard.As soon as the last child was out of the building, the two doors closedagain.Most of the youngsters finally dispersed, and the commandant called in aloud voice:"Monsieur de Varnetot!"A window on the first floor opened and M. de Varnetot appeared.The commandant continued:"Monsieur, you know that great events have just taken place which havechanged the entire aspect of the government. The one which yourepresented no longer exists. The one which I represent is takingcontrol. Under these painful, but decisive circumstances, I come, in thename of the new Republic, to ask you to turn over to me the office whichyou held under the former government."M. de Varnetot answered:"Doctor, I am the mayor of Canneville, duly appointed, and I shall remainmayor of Canneville until I have been dismissed by a decree from mysuperiors. As mayor, I am in my place in the townhall, and here I stay.Anyhow, just try to get me out."He closed the window.The commandant returned to his troop. But before giving any information,eyeing Lieutenant Picart from head to foot, he exclaimed:"You're a great one, you are! You're a fine specimen of manhood! You'rea disgrace to the army! I degrade you.""I don't give a ----!"He turned away and mingled with a group of townspeople.Then the doctor hesitated. What could he do? Attack? But would his menobey orders? And then, did he have the right to do so?An idea struck him. He ran to the telegraph office, opposite the town-hall, and sent off three telegrams:To the new republican government in Paris.To the new prefect of the Seine-Inferieure, at Rouen.To the new republican sub-prefect at Dieppe.He explained the situation, pointed out the danger which the town wouldrun if it should remain in the hands of the royalist mayor; offered hisfaithful services, asked for orders and signed, putting all his titlesafter his name.Then he returned to his battalion, and, drawing ten francs from hispocket, he cried: "Here, my friends, go eat and drink; only leave me adetachment of ten men to guard against anybody's leaving the town-hall."But ex-Lieutenant Picart, who had been talking with the watchmaker, heardhim; he began to laugh, and exclaimed: "By Jove, if they come out, it'llgive you a chance to get in. Otherwise I can see you standing out therefor the rest of your life!"The doctor did not reply, and he went to luncheon.In the afternoon, he disposed his men about the town as though they werein immediate danger of an ambush.Several times he passed in front of the town-hall and of the churchwithout noticing anything suspicious; the two buildings looked as thoughempty.The butcher, the baker and the druggist once more opened up their stores.Everybody was talking about the affair. If the emperor were a prisoner,there must have been some kind of treason. They did not know exactlywhich of the republics had returned to power.Night fell.Toward nine o'clock, the doctor, alone, noiselessly approached theentrance of the public building, persuaded that the enemy must have goneto bed; and, as he was preparing to batter down the door with a pick-axe,the deep voice of a sentry suddenly called:"Who goes there?"And M. Massarel retreated as fast as his legs could carry him.Day broke without any change in the situation.Armed militia occupied the square. All the citizens had gathered aroundthis troop awaiting developments. Even neighboring villagers had come tolook on.Then the doctor, seeing that his reputation was at stake, resolved to putan end to the matter in one way or another; and he was about to take somemeasures, undoubtedly energetic ones, when the door of the telegraphstation opened and the little servant of the postmistress appeared,holding in her hands two papers.First she went to the commandant and gave him one of the despatches; thenshe crossed the empty square, confused at seeing the eyes of everyone onher, and lowering her head and running along with little quick steps, shewent and knocked softly at the door of the barricaded house, as thoughignorant of the fact that those behind it were armed.The door opened wide enough to let a man's hand reach out and receive themessage; and the young girl returned blushing, ready to cry at being thusstared at by the whole countryside.In a clear voice, the doctor cried:"Silence, if you please."When the populace had quieted down, he continued proudly:"Here is the communication which I have received from the government."And lifting the telegram he read:Former mayor dismissed. Inform him immediately, More ordersfollowing.For the sub-prefect:SAPIN, Councillor.He was-triumphant; his heart was throbbing with joy and his hands weretrembling; but Picart, his former subordinate, cried to him from aneighboring group:"That's all right; but supposing the others don't come out, what good isthe telegram going to do you?"M. Massarel grew pale. He had not thought of that; if the others did notcome out, he would now have to take some decisive step. It was not onlyhis right, but his duty.He looked anxiously at the town-hall, hoping to see the door open and hisadversary give in.The door remained closed. What could he do? The crowd was growing andclosing around the militia. They were laughing.One thought especially tortured the doctor. If he attacked, he wouldhave to march at the head of his men; and as, with him dead, all strifewould cease, it was at him and him only that M. de Varnetot and his threeguards would aim. And they were good shots, very good shots, as Picarthad just said. But an idea struck him and, turning to Pommel, heordered:"Run quickly to the druggist and ask him to lend me a towel and a stick."The lieutenant hastened.He would make a flag of truce, a white flag, at the sight of which theroyalist heart of the mayor would perhaps rejoice.Pommel returned with the cloth and a broom-stick. With some twine theycompleted the flag, and M. Massarel, grasping it in both hands andholding it in front of him, again advanced in the direction of the town-hall. When he was opposite the door, he once more called: "Monsieur deVarnetot!" The door suddenly opened and M. de Varnetot and his threeguards appeared on the threshold.Instinctively the doctor stepped back; then he bowed courteously to hisenemy, and, choking with emotion, he announced: "I have come, monsieur,to make you acquainted with the orders which I have received."The nobleman, without returning the bow, answered: "I resign, monsieur,but understand that it is neither through fear of, nor obedience to, theodious government which has usurped the power." And, emphasizing everyword, he declared: "I do not wish to appear, for a single day, to servethe Republic. That's all."Massarel, stunned, answered nothing; and M. de Varnetot, walking quickly,disappeared around the corner of the square, still followed by hisescort.The doctor, puffed up with pride, returned to the crowd. As soon as hewas near enough to make himself heard, he cried: "Hurrah! hurrah!Victory crowns the Republic everywhere."There was no outburst of joy.The doctor continued: "We are free, you are free, independent! Beproud!"The motionless villagers were looking at him without any signs of triumphshining in their eyes.He looked at them, indignant at their indifference, thinking of what hecould say or do in order to make an impression to electrify this calmpeasantry, to fulfill his mission as a leader.He had an inspiration and, turning to Pommel, he ordered: "Lieutenant, goget me the bust of the ex-emperor which is in the meeting room of themunicipal council, and bring it here with a chair."The man presently reappeared, carrying on his right shoulder the plasterBonaparte, and holding in his left hand a cane-seated chair.M. Massarel went towards him, took the chair, placed the white bust onit, then stepping back a few steps, he addressed it in a loud voice:"Tyrant, tyrant, you have fallen down in the mud. The dying fatherlandwas in its death throes under your oppression. Vengeful Destiny hasstruck you. Defeat and shame have pursued you; you fall conquered, aprisoner of the Prussians; and from the ruins of your crumbling empire,the young and glorious Republic arises, lifting from the ground yourbroken sword----"He waited for applause. Not a sound greeted his listening ear. Thepeasants, nonplussed, kept silent; and the white, placid, well-groomedstatue seemed to look at M. Massarel with its plaster smile, ineffaceableand sarcastic.Thus they stood, face to face, Napoleon on his chair, the physicianstanding three feet away. Anger seized the commandant. What could he doto move this crowd and definitely to win over public opinion?He happened to carry his hand to his stomach, and he felt, under his redbelt, the butt of his revolver.Not another inspiration, not another word cane to his mind. Then, hedrew his weapon, stepped back a few steps and shot the former monarch.The bullet made a little black hole:, like a spot, in his forehead. Nosensation was created. M. Massarel shot a second time and made a secondhole, then a third time, then, without stopping, he shot off the threeremaining shots. Napoleon's forehead was blown away in a white powder,but his eyes, nose and pointed mustache remained intact.Then in exasperation, the doctor kicked the chair over, and placing onefoot on what remained of the bust in the position of a conqueror, heturned to the amazed public and yelled: "Thus may all traitors die!"As no enthusiasm was, as yet, visible, the spectators appearing to bedumb with astonishment, the commandant cried to the militia: "You may gohome now." And he himself walked rapidly, almost ran, towards his house.As soon as he appeared, the servant told him that some patients had beenwaiting in his office for over three hours. He hastened in. They werethe same two peasants as a few days before, who had returned at daybreak,obstinate and patient.The old man immediately began his explanation:"It began with ants, which seemed to be crawling up and down my legs----"
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