Bab Bab 8 · OMNES OMNIBUS
. OMNES OMNIBUS
Andre-Louis rode forth from Rennes committed to a deeper adventure than
he had dreamed of when he left the sleepy village of Gavrillac. Lying
the night at a roadside inn, and setting out again early in the morning,
he reached Nantes soon after noon of the following day.
Through that long and lonely ride through the dull plains of Brittany,
now at their dreariest in their winter garb, he had ample leisure in
which to review his actions and his position. From one who had taken
hitherto a purely academic and by no means friendly interest in the new
philosophies of social life, exercising his wits upon these new ideas
merely as a fencer exercises his eye and wrist with the foils, without
ever suffering himself to be deluded into supposing the issue a real
one, he found himself suddenly converted into a revolutionary firebrand,
committed to revolutionary action of the most desperate kind. The
representative and delegate of a nobleman in the States of Brittany, he
found himself simultaneously and incongruously the representative and
delegate of the whole Third Estate of Rennes.
It is difficult to determine to what extent, in the heat of passion and
swept along by the torrent of his own oratory, he might yesterday have
succeeded in deceiving himself. But it is at least certain that, looking
back in cold blood now, he had no single delusion on the score of what
he had done. Cynically he had presented to his audience one side only of
the great question that he propounded.
But since the established order of things in France was such as to make
a rampart for M. de La Tour d’Azyr, affording him complete immunity for
this and any other crimes that it pleased him to commit, why, then the
established order must take the consequences of its wrong-doing. Therein
he perceived his clear justification.
And so it was without misgivings that he came on his errand of sedition
into that beautiful city of Nantes, rendered by its spacious streets and
splendid port the rival in prosperity of Bordeaux and Marseilles.
He found an inn on the Quai La Fosse, where he put up his horse, and
where he dined in the embrasure of a window that looked out over the
tree-bordered quay and the broad bosom of the Loire, on which argosies
of all nations rode at anchor. The sun had again broken through the
clouds, and shed its pale wintry light over the yellow waters and the
tall-masted shipping.
Along the quays there was a stir of life as great as that to be seen
on the quays of Paris. Foreign sailors in outlandish garments and of
harsh-sounding, outlandish speech, stalwart fishwives with baskets of
herrings on their heads, voluminous of petticoat above bare legs and
bare feet, calling their wares shrilly and almost inarticulately,
watermen in woollen caps and loose trousers rolled to the knees,
peasants in goatskin coats, their wooden shoes clattering on the
round kidney-stones, shipwrights and labourers from the dockyards,
bellows-menders, rat-catchers, water-carriers, ink-sellers, and other
itinerant pedlars. And, sprinkled through this proletariat mass that
came and went in constant movement, Andre-Louis beheld tradesmen in
sober garments, merchants in long, fur-lined coats; occasionally
a merchant-prince rolling along in his two-horse cabriolet to the
whip-crackings and shouts of “Gare!” from his coachman; occasionally a
dainty lady carried past in her sedan-chair, with perhaps a mincing abbe
from the episcopal court tripping along in attendance; occasionally an
officer in scarlet riding disdainfully; and once the great carriage of
a nobleman, with escutcheoned panels and a pair of white-stockinged,
powdered footmen in gorgeous liveries hanging on behind. And there were
Capuchins in brown and Benedictines in black, and secular priests in
plenty--for God was well served in the sixteen parishes of Nantes--and
by way of contrast there were lean-jawed, out-at-elbow adventurers, and
gendarmes in blue coats and gaitered legs, sauntering guardians of the
peace.
Representatives of every class that went to make up the seventy thousand
inhabitants of that wealthy, industrious city were to be seen in
the human stream that ebbed and flowed beneath the window from which
Andre-Louis observed it.
Of the waiter who ministered to his humble wants with soup and bouilli,
and a measure of vin gris, Andre-Louis enquired into the state of public
feeling in the city. The waiter, a staunch supporter of the privileged
orders, admitted regretfully that an uneasiness prevailed. Much would
depend upon what happened at Rennes. If it was true that the King had
dissolved the States of Brittany, then all should be well, and the
malcontents would have no pretext for further disturbances. There had
been trouble and to spare in Nantes already. They wanted no repetition
of it. All manner of rumours were abroad, and since early morning there
had been crowds besieging the portals of the Chamber of Commerce for
definite news. But definite news was yet to come. It was not even known
for a fact that His Majesty actually had dissolved the States.
It was striking two, the busiest hour of the day upon the Bourse, when
Andre-Louis reached the Place du Commerce. The square, dominated by the
imposing classical building of the Exchange, was so crowded that he
was compelled almost to fight his way through to the steps of the
magnificent Ionic porch. A word would have sufficed to have opened a way
for him at once. But guile moved him to keep silent. He would come upon
that waiting multitude as a thunderclap, precisely as yesterday he
had come upon the mob at Rennes. He would lose nothing of the surprise
effect of his entrance.
The precincts of that house of commerce were jealously kept by a line
of ushers armed with staves, a guard as hurriedly assembled by the
merchants as it was evidently necessary. One of these now effectively
barred the young lawyer’s passage as he attempted to mount the steps.
Andre-Louis announced himself in a whisper.
The stave was instantly raised from the horizontal, and he passed and
went up the steps in the wake of the usher. At the top, on the threshold
of the chamber, he paused, and stayed his guide.
“I will wait here,” he announced. “Bring the president to me.”
“Your name, monsieur?”
Almost had Andre-Louis answered him when he remembered Le Chapelier’s
warning of the danger with which his mission was fraught, and Le
Chapelier’s parting admonition to conceal his identity.
“My name is unknown to him; it matters nothing; I am the mouthpiece of a
people, no more. Go.”
The usher went, and in the shadow of that lofty, pillared portico
Andre-Louis waited, his eyes straying out ever and anon to survey that
spread of upturned faces immediately below him.
Soon the president came, others following, crowding out into the
portico, jostling one another in their eagerness to hear the news.
“You are a messenger from Rennes?”
“I am the delegate sent by the Literary Chamber of that city to inform
you here in Nantes of what is taking place.”
“Your name?”
Andre-Louis paused. “The less we mention names perhaps the better.”
The president’s eyes grew big with gravity. He was a corpulent, florid
man, purse-proud, and self-sufficient.
He hesitated a moment. Then--“Come into the Chamber,” said he.
“By your leave, monsieur, I will deliver my message from here--from these
steps.”
“From here?” The great merchant frowned.
“My message is for the people of Nantes, and from here I can speak
at once to the greatest number of Nantais of all ranks, and it is my
desire--and the desire of those whom I represent--that as great a number
as possible should hear my message at first hand.”
“Tell me, sir, is it true that the King has dissolved the States?”
Andre-Louis looked at him. He smiled apologetically, and waved a hand
towards the crowd, which by now was straining for a glimpse of this slim
young man who had brought forth the president and more than half the
numbers of the Chamber, guessing already, with that curious instinct of
crowds, that he was the awaited bearer of tidings.
“Summon the gentlemen of your Chamber, monsieur,” said he, “and you
shall hear all.”
“So be it.”
A word, and forth they came to crowd upon the steps, but leaving clear
the topmost step and a half-moon space in the middle.
To the spot so indicated, Andre-Louis now advanced very deliberately.
He took his stand there, dominating the entire assembly. He removed
his hat, and launched the opening bombshell of that address which
is historic, marking as it does one of the great stages of France’s
progress towards revolution.
“People of this great city of Nantes, I have come to summon you to
arms!”
In the amazed and rather scared silence that followed he surveyed them
for a moment before resuming.
“I am a delegate of the people of Rennes, charged to announce to you
what is taking place, and to invite you in this dreadful hour of our
country’s peril to rise and march to her defence.”
“Name! Your name!” a voice shouted, and instantly the cry was taken up
by others, until the multitude rang with the question.
He could not answer that excited mob as he had answered the president.
It was necessary to compromise, and he did so, happily. “My name,” said
he, “is Omnes Omnibus--all for all. Let that suffice you now. I am a
herald, a mouthpiece, a voice; no more. I come to announce to you that
since the privileged orders, assembled for the States of Brittany in
Rennes, resisted your will--our will--despite the King’s plain hint to
them, His Majesty has dissolved the States.”
There was a burst of delirious applause. Men laughed and shouted, and
cries of “Vive le Roi!” rolled forth like thunder. Andre-Louis waited,
and gradually the preternatural gravity of his countenance came to be
observed, and to beget the suspicion that there might be more to follow.
Gradually silence was restored, and at last Andre Louis was able to
proceed.
“You rejoice too soon. Unfortunately, the nobles, in their insolent
arrogance, have elected to ignore the royal dissolution, and in despite
of it persist in sitting and in conducting matters as seems good to
them.”
A silence of utter dismay greeted that disconcerting epilogue to
the announcement that had been so rapturously received. Andre-Louis
continued after a moment’s pause:
“So that these men who were already rebels against the people, rebels,
against justice and equity, rebels against humanity itself, are now
also rebels against their King. Sooner than yield an inch of the
unconscionable privileges by which too long already they have
flourished, to the misery of a whole nation, they will make a mock
of royal authority, hold up the King himself to contempt. They are
determined to prove that there is no real sovereignty in France but the
sovereignty of their own parasitic faineantise.”
There was a faint splutter of applause, but the majority of the audience
remained silent, waiting.
“This is no new thing. Always has it been the same. No minister in
the last ten years, who, seeing the needs and perils of the State,
counselled the measures that we now demand as the only means of
arresting our motherland in its ever-quickening progress to the abyss,
but found himself as a consequence cast out of office by the influence
which Privilege brought to bear against him. Twice already has M. Necker
been called to the ministry, to be twice dismissed when his insistent
counsels of reform threatened the privileges of clergy and nobility. For
the third time now has he been called to office, and at last it seems
we are to have States General in spite of Privilege. But what the
privileged orders can no longer prevent, they are determined to
stultify. Since it is now a settled thing that these States General are
to meet, at least the nobles and the clergy will see to it--unless we
take measures to prevent them--by packing the Third Estate with their
own creatures, and denying it all effective representation, that they
convert the States General into an instrument of their own will for the
perpetuation of the abuses by which they live. To achieve this end they
will stop at nothing. They have flouted the authority of the King, and
they are silencing by assassination those who raise their voices to
condemn them. Yesterday in Rennes two young men who addressed the people
as I am addressing you were done to death in the streets by assassins at
the instigation of the nobility. Their blood cries out for vengeance.”
Beginning in a sullen mutter, the indignation that moved his hearers
swelled up to express itself in a roar of anger.
“Citizens of Nantes, the motherland is in peril. Let us march to her
defence. Let us proclaim it to the world that we recognize that the
measures to liberate the Third Estate from the slavery in which for
centuries it has groaned find only obstacles in those orders whose
phrenetic egotism sees in the tears and suffering of the unfortunate
an odious tribute which they would pass on to their generations still
unborn. Realizing from the barbarity of the means employed by our
enemies to perpetuate our oppression that we have everything to fear
from the aristocracy they would set up as a constitutional principle for
the governing of France, let us declare ourselves at once enfranchised
from it.
“The establishment of liberty and equality should be the aim of every
citizen member of the Third Estate; and to this end we should stand
indivisibly united, especially the young and vigorous, especially those
who have had the good fortune to be born late enough to be able to
gather for themselves the precious fruits of the philosophy of this
eighteenth century.”
Acclamations broke out unstintedly now. He had caught them in the snare
of his oratory. And he pressed his advantage instantly.
“Let us all swear,” he cried in a great voice, “to raise up in the name
of humanity and of liberty a rampart against our enemies, to oppose to
their bloodthirsty covetousness the calm perseverance of men whose cause
is just. And let us protest here and in advance against any tyrannical
decrees that should declare us seditious when we have none but pure and
just intentions. Let us make oath upon the honour of our motherland that
should any of us be seized by an unjust tribunal, intending against us
one of those acts termed of political expediency--which are, in effect,
but acts of despotism--let us swear, I say, to give a full expression
to the strength that is in us and do that in self-defence which nature,
courage, and despair dictate to us.”
Loud and long rolled the applause that greeted his conclusion, and he
observed with satisfaction and even some inward grim amusement that the
wealthy merchants who had been congregated upon the steps, and who now
came crowding about him to shake him by the hand and to acclaim him,
were not merely participants in, but the actual leaders of, this
delirium of enthusiasm.
It confirmed him, had he needed confirmation, in his conviction that
just as the philosophies upon which this new movement was based had
their source in thinkers extracted from the bourgeoisie, so the need
to adopt those philosophies to the practical purposes of life was most
acutely felt at present by those bourgeois who found themselves debarred
by Privilege from the expansion their wealth permitted them. If it might
be said of Andre-Louis that he had that day lighted the torch of the
Revolution in Nantes, it might with even greater truth be said that the
torch itself was supplied by the opulent bourgeoisie.
I need not dwell at any length upon the sequel. It is a matter of
history how that oath which Omnes Omnibus administered to the citizens
of Nantes formed the backbone of the formal protest which they drew up
and signed in their thousands. Nor were the results of that powerful
protest--which, after all, might already be said to harmonize with the
expressed will of the sovereign himself--long delayed. Who shall say how
far it may have strengthened the hand of Necker, when on the 27th of
that same month of November he compelled the Council to adopt the most
significant and comprehensive of all those measures to which clergy and
nobility had refused their consent? On that date was published the royal
decree ordaining that the deputies to be elected to the States General
should number at least one thousand, and that the deputies of the
Third Estate should be fully representative by numbering as many as the
deputies of clergy and nobility together.