Chapter 288 2 Paris owl bird's-eye view

If anyone were to fly over Paris on the wings of a bat or an owl at this time, he would see a dreary scene before his eyes. He would see the Rue Saint-Denis and the Rue Mardan, interspersed with alleys and alleys where countless insurgents built barricades and defenses. Rue Saint-Martin runs through the whole district, and looks like a huge black hole dug in the center of Paris.It is impossible to see the bottom in this area.With the streetlights all broken and the windows closed, there was no light, no life, no sound, no activity here.The order is night when riotous invisible police patrol the land.Submerging a small part in the vast darkness and using the conditions created by this darkness to strengthen the combat effectiveness of each soldier is a necessary strategy for an uprising.When it was dark that day, every window with a candle light was shot.The lights went out and sometimes the occupants died.So nothing happened.There was nothing but fear, sorrow, and confusion in those houses, and an overwhelming gloomy scene in the streets.Not even the rows of windows, the jagged chimneys and roofs, the faint reflection of the muddy pavement.Eyes looking down upon this mass of black shadows from above might be able to see here and there, at some distance, some peculiar zigzagging lines, some strangely shaped buildings, illuminated by dim firelight. Silhouettes, something like a glimmer of light passing through ruins, where the barricades were.The rest of the place is full of mist and lifelessness, like a pool of black water.Protruding above these, some standing shadows, were the Tower of Saint-Jacques and the Church of Saint-Mérière, and two or three buildings that men would give a tall image and that the night would make ghosts.

Around this desolate and disturbing labyrinth, in areas of Paris where the traffic has not yet completely disappeared, where a few street lamps are still more or less lit, the flying observer may be able to see some metallic flashes of sabers and spears , the silent rolling of the cannon carriages, the ant-swarm-like formations are quietly increasing minute by minute, slowly pushing towards the surrounding area of ​​the riot, gradually narrowing its encirclement, and finally completing a terrifying iron hoop . The cordoned-off area was no more than a sort of grotesque savage's den, where everything seemed to be asleep and motionless, and, as we have just seen, every street normally accessible to everyone was now just a street. shadow.

The sinister shadows are full of traps, and sudden violent attacks can be encountered everywhere. Those places are enough to make people chill, and staying in those places is even more frightening. Those who enter tremble in front of those who are waiting, and those who wait Tremble before those who enter.Invisible warriors are ambushed at every corner of the street, and the noose laid by the man in the tomb is hidden in the deep and unpredictable shadows.It's over.Henceforth, in those places, there was no other light to hope for but the muzzle-flare, no other encounter but the sudden onset of death.Where does death come from?How?when will you arrive?No one knows, but it was inevitable, unavoidable.On this ground that cannot be ignored, the government and the insurgents, the National Guard and the mass organizations, the bourgeoisie and the insurgents will all grope their way face to face.Both parties must do so.Either die in this place, or become the winner of this place, either die or win, there is no other way out.The situation is so deadlocked, and the darkness so deep, that even the most timid people feel that they have made up their minds here, and the most courageous people feel that they are afraid here.

Moreover, both sides are equally violent, equally headstrong, and equally strong.For one side, advancing means death, but no one thinks of retreating; for the other side, staying means death, but no one thinks of fleeing. Whether the uprising turned into a revolution, whether it was completely defeated, whether the victory belonged to this side or that side, all this must end tomorrow.The government and all parties understand this, and even the smallest bourgeoisie feels it.Hence, in the impenetrable darkness of the soon-to-be-decisive region, mingled a disturbed thought; hence, in the silence of impending catastrophe, an ever-increasing anxiety. .There one only voice was heard--a voice as heart-rending as a dying gasp, as palpitating as a savage scolding--St. Alarm bells in Miri.Nothing could be more desolate than that bell beating wildly in the dark, sending out a desperate wail.

It often happens that Heaven seems to approve of what man is about to do.This unfortunate harmony between heaven and man is unbreakable.At that time, there were no stars in the sky, and gloomy clouds, layer upon layer, piled up on the horizon.The black sky enveloped these lifeless streets and alleys, like a huge shroud covering this huge tomb. When a struggle that is still confined to the political sphere is brewing on the same field that has withstood many revolutionary storms, when the young generation of talkative doctrine, various secret societies, various schools and colleges, and the profit-oriented bourgeoisie Walking towards each other, ready to strike, smother, suppress each other, when everyone is thinking about this old Paris, overwhelmed by the jewels of a prosperous and happy Paris, in its unfathomable secret chambers, here The voices of the people were heard gnashing their teeth in secret, when the hour of final decision of the crisis came sooner than and farther than the region where doom had haunted.

That terrible and holy voice, which has the roar of beasts and the language of God at the same time, can make the weak tremble at hearing it, and it can also make the philosopher think deeply.