the rout

when the smoke from the cannon had cleared, the sectionists who remained standing could see, not fifty paces from them, bonaparte on horseback in the midst of his gunners, who were reloading their guns. they replied to the cannonade by a heavy fire. seven or eight of the gunners fell, and bonaparte's black horse sank to the ground, shot dead by a bullet in the forehead.

"fire!" cried bonaparte as he fell.

the cannon thundered a second time. bonaparte had time to rise. he had concealed the battalion of '89 in the cul-de-sac de dauphine, which they had reached through the stables.

"this way, volunteers!" he cried, drawing his sword.

the battalion of volunteers rushed toward him with drawn swords. they were tried men who had seen all the first battles of the revolution. bonaparte noticed an old drummer standing in a corner.

"come here," he said, "and beat the charge."

"the charge, my boy," said the old drummer, who saw that he had to do with a young man of twenty-five; "you want the charge? well, you shall have it; and a warm one."

[pg 330]

and, placing himself at the head of the battalion of '89, he beat the charge. the regiment marched straight to the church steps, and, with their bayonets, pinned to the doors all the sectionists who had remained standing.

"at a gallop to the rue saint-honoré!" shouted bonaparte.

the cannon obeyed as if they understood the command. the guns had been reloaded while the battalion of volunteers were marching against saint-roch.

"wheel to the right!" said bonaparte to the gunners in charge of one of the cannon.

"to the left," he cried to the others.

then, to both at the same time, he shouted: "fire!"

and he swept the whole length of the rue saint-honoré with two charges of grape-shot.

the sectionists, annihilated, without being able to tell whence the thunderbolt had fallen, took refuge in the church of saint-roch, in the théatre du république, now the théatre-fran?aise, and in the palais-égalité. bonaparte had put them to flight, had broken and dispersed their ranks; it was for others to drive them from their last intrenchments. he mounted another horse which was brought him, and shouted: "patriots of '89, the honor of the day is yours! finish what you have so well begun."

these men who did not know him were astonished at being commanded by a boy. but they had seen him at work and were dazzled by his calmness under fire. they scarcely knew his name; they certainly did not know who he was. they put their hats on the ends of their muskets and cried: "long live the convention!"

the wounded, who were stretched along the side of the houses, raised themselves upon the doorsteps or clung to the gratings of the windows, shouting: "long live the republic!"

the dead lay in heaps in the street, and blood poured through the gutters as in a slaughter house, but enthusiasm hovered over the corpses.

[pg 331]

"i have nothing more to do here," said the young general.

and putting spurs to his horse, he rode across the place vend?me, which was now empty, and reached the rue florentin almost in the midst of the fugitives whom he seemed to be pursuing, and from thence he passed into the place de la révolution.

there he directed general montchoisy, who was in command of the reserves, to form a column, to take two twelve-pounders, and to advance by way of the boulevard to the porte-saint-honoré, in order to return to the place vend?me; from there he was to effect a junction with the guard attached to the staff in the rue des capucines, and with it to return to the place vend?me, and thus drive out all the sectionists who might remain there.

at the same time general brune, obeying general bonaparte's order, passed through the rues nicaise and saint-honoré. all the sectionists from the barrière des sergents to the place vend?me, attacked on three sides at once, were either killed or taken prisoners. those who escaped by the rue de la loi, formerly the rue richelieu, erected a barrier at the head of the rue saint-marc.

it was general danican who made this attempt with some ten thousand men, whom he had gathered together at the point nearest the convention, believing he had only to force the wicket of l'echelle to reach the assembly. wishing to reserve all the honors of the day for himself, he had forbidden morgan, who commanded on the pont-neuf, and coster de saint-victor, who was stationed at the quai conti, to take a single step.

suddenly morgan perceived danican with the remnant of his ten thousand men advancing through the rue des halles and the place du chatelet. the impetus thus given extended to the quai du louvre and also to the quai conti. this was the movement which bonaparte had foreseen when he left the church of saint-roch.

from the place de la révolution he saw them advancing[pg 332] in close columns, on the one side from the garden of the infanta and on the other from the quai malaquais. he sent two batteries to take up their positions on the quai des tuileries, and ordered them to commence firing at once diagonally across the river. he then set off at a gallop for the rue du bac, turned three guns, ready loaded, upon the quai voltaire, and cried "fire!" just as the column emerged from behind the institute.

obliged to march in a compact body, as they passed between the monument and the quai, the sectionists massed into a deep but narrow body, and it was at this moment that the artillery commenced to fire, and the shot swept through their ranks, literally mowing down the battalions as with a scythe. the battery consisted of six guns, of which only three were fired at a time, the other three reloading and then firing again in turn; consequently the firing was incessant.

the sections wavered and drew back. coster de saint-victor put himself at their head, rallied them, and was the first to cross the narrow passage. his men followed him. the cannon thundered on their flank and in front. his men fell around him while he remained standing about ten feet in front of the mutilated column, the remnant of which rapidly withdrew.

the young chief sprang upon the parapet of the bridge, where he stood, a target for every shot, and harangued them—insulted them, even. stung by his sarcasms, the sectionists attempted once again to cross the passage. coster leaped from the parapet and again put himself at their head.

the artillery made terrible havoc as the shot plowed through the ranks; a single shot killing or wounding at least three or four men. coster's hat, which he held in his hand, was carried away, but the hurricane of fire passed around him without touching him.

coster looked around only to find himself alone. he recognized the impossibility of restoring the courage of his[pg 333] followers; then he glanced in the direction of the quai du louvre, and saw that morgan was waging deadly battle there with cartaux. he darted through the rue mazarin to the rue guénégaud, and thence to the summit of the quai conti, which was heaped with dead, exposed as it was to the fire of the battery on the quai des tuileries. on his way he rallied round him a thousand men, crossed the pont-neuf with them, and emerged at their head upon the quai de l'école.