There is a day in the annals of Paris, that to the limits of all time will be remembered with shame, sorrow, and indignation.
And not only by the people of Paris, but of France—who on that day ceased to be free.
To the Parisians, more especially, was it a day of lamentation; and its anniversary can never pass over the French capital without tears in every house, and trembling in every heart.
It was the Second of December, 1851.
On the morning of that day five men were met within a chamber of the Tuileries. It was the same chamber in which we have described a conspiracy as having been hatched some months before.
The present meeting was for a similar purpose; but, notwithstanding a coincidence in the number of the conspirators, only one of them was the same. This was the president of the former conclave—the President of France!
And there was another coincidence equally strange—in their titles; for there was a count, a field-marshal, a diplomatist, and a duke, the only difference being that they were now all of one nation—all Frenchmen.
They were the Count de M., the Marshal Saint A., the Diplomatist La G., and the Duke of C.
Although, as said, their purpose was very similar, there was a great difference in the men and their mode of discussing it. The former five have been assimilated to a gang of burglars who had settled the preliminaries for “cracking a crib.” Better might this description apply to the conspirators now in session; and at a still later period, when the housebreakers are about entering on the “job.”
Those had conspired with a more comprehensive design—the destruction of Liberty throughout all Europe. These were assembled with similar aim, though it was confined to the liberties of France.