“I thought the workmen were starving,” replied the officer.
“Their pockets are now full of money; we dine on the quay opposite, (naming the auberge;) we will entertain you well.
“As you were in the Imperial Guard, you must know that a soldier cannot quit his post; but I will, if you like, send you some one,” said Capt. de ——.
“In that case, I give you my oath we will not attack you again to-night.”
They parted; Capt. de —— returned to the arsenal, where he found the ensign of his company, who had managed to join him in plain clothes. He sent him to dine with the workmen, desiring him to eat and drink, and bring back what information he could, but make no promises. The rioters did not keep faith notwithstanding; they renewed their fire. At midnight came the order for retreat; and having hid all arms and ammunition, excepting only a few muskets, they marched from the arsenal and the town in good order. Lyons remained in possession of the insurgents eight days. The Duke of Orleans and Marshal Soult joined the 66th regiment outside the town. Capt. de —— received the cross of honour from the former’s hand, and shortly after promotion. When, in company of other troops, the 66th returned to occupy Lyons, it did so with artillery in its front, and matches lighted, and exasperated to such a degree, that a single shot fired by a townsman might have changed the city to a heap of ruins.
In France tragedy and comedy are often near neighbours. The royal family, when they go to Lyons, are always lodged at the Hôtel de l’Europe. The Duke of Orleans was there, whether after the disturbances of 1831, of which we have been speaking, or those of 1834, I do not at this moment recollect, but the circumstance M. Pauche told me himself. He is a good hearted but violent man; abuses angrily all beggars who come to ask relief, and who listen to him with great humility, quite sure the lecture will be closed by a shower of sous. Not being highly educated, when excited, he swears between each sentence, and, the oath escaped, takes off his hat and begs pardon, which lengthens a story and renders it rather obscure.
“The Duke came with his staff,” said Monsieur Pauche, “he staid a long time, neuf repas, (French innkeepers count time by meals;) and as I had so much to do, ——, (the hat off,) I beg your pardon: I got my ‘pièces montées’ from the confectioner, and being in a hurry, —— (the hat off again,) I ran out for them myself in my cook’s costume, as you have seen me, in my white night-cap and apron. When I arrived back at my own porte cochère, —— (I beg your pardon,) there stood National Guards with crossed bayonets; would not let me in again, —— (this was a furious oath); said I, I am Pauche, and that is my hôtel, and the Prince is waiting for his second course, and how do you think he is to get it if you won’t let me in?” The sentries did not recognize him; it was all in vain. “And —— and ——, said I, (the hat off a third time,) I wish I had my kitchen carving knife.”
Finding remonstrance useless, he at last seized a national guard by the collar, and made a forcible entry, dragging him after him to the scene of his culinary labours.
“And now,” said Monsieur Pauche, catching up a long ladle with his free hand, and pointing to his row of cooks, and then shaking it at the half-choked national guard, “Now do you believe I am chez moi?”
On our return to the Hôtel de l’Europe we passed again across the Place des Terreaux, and before the church of St. Nizier. In the latter, in the year 1834, a terrible scene was acted; the troops having at last obtained the mastery, the insurgents were pursued here, and two or three hundred killed within these quiet walls. The disturbances of 1834 appear, by Monsieur Pauche’s account, to have been equally terrible, for a time, with those of 1831. The rioters had taken up their position on Fourvières, where they had even posted cannon. When they were at last dislodged, a great many escaped by letting themselves drop from the terrace wall to the vineyard below,—no slight fall, but probably on soft ground. It was possible from the hôtel to see them execute this manœuvre, and having performed it, slip away in safety among the bushes. At this time there were incendiaries among the disaffected, for Monsieur Pauche, naturally fearing for the lives of all in his hôtel, which was just opposite Fourvières, wisely went to his country house, and at the moment he passed saw several houses in flames between the Place Bellecour and the Pont de la Guillotière.