The Shadow of Great Britain

On this journey, we disguised ourselves and followed closely behind those insurgents, sometimes even joining their attacks, because I discovered that the government forces were stationed outside the Security Department building, making me suspicious of the army’s intentions. After all, in Paris, nothing is trustworthy, and it’s always good to be cautious of others.

The snipers among the insurgents aimlessly fired shots into the Security Department’s Saint-Roch courtyard throughout the latter half of the night, but hit nothing, as I wouldn’t foolishly stand there as a target.

I spent nearly the entire night wandering around the vicinity. By daytime, the Great Paris Police Hall was in no better shape. The entire Île de la Cité had been turned into a fortress by the insurgent troops, ready for attack at any moment.

Intelligence was delivered to the City Hall, but there was no response. I volunteered once again and retrieved Count Bondi’s report from the City Hall, thanking God that I managed to get him into a hired carriage yesterday.

On my way back, I passed through Place de la Bastille and discovered a heated battle between government forces and insurgents, but I smartly maneuvered through the smoke and returned safely.

After a night had passed, the residents of Île de la Cité, whether timid or reluctant, had no choice but to respond to the criminals’ call and join their insurgent forces.

As for the army, it was clear that they couldn’t be relied upon to maintain control of Île de la Cité under such circumstances. So, I requested again for my Security Department to take the lead.

After hesitating for a while, the director finally decided to play my trump card.

Upon receiving approval, I immediately started mobilizing volunteers, and all the officers of the Security Department rallied under my banner. These guys were very courageous, making it clear that wherever I directed, they would charge.

Their oaths even disturbed the soldiers and horses resting in the Security Department courtyard, eight robust cavalrymen also came charging and requested to join my ranks.

At this time, the disorderly rabble of Île de la Cité had practically gone wild: thieves, idlers, ruffians, prostitutes, ex-convicts, I didn’t know why, but it seemed like this area was full of freeloading scum, their numbers far exceeded those of the Republican and Bonaparte Party political adherents.

These people held together tightly under the command of a former navy artillery captain named Edward Colombert.

Ha! Some might fear such an environment, but not me. I was born for the chaos of such turmoil, danger suits me best. Only in such critical moments can I truly find myself.

I set off, leading my 28-member assault team, aiming straight for Colombert and his lackeys’ heads.

We found the boy at the junction of Jewish Street and Rue de Bille, just as he was directing his men to set up barricades. I pretended to be a passerby, chatted with him kindly for a few moments, then kicked him in the private parts when he wasn’t looking, knocking him down and arresting him.

Seeing this, my assault squad immediately swarmed and subdued all the lackeys on the spot.

A few minutes ago, these scumbags were still fiercely battling with soldiers, but they didn’t expect their opponents to suddenly switch to plainclothes policemen, they fell into an icy pit.

Fifteen thugs occupied a sentry post at the bridgehead, and when they saw me walking towards them with a smoking pipe, they immediately panicked. I just shouted at them: “I am Francois Vidocq, why are you not surrendering?”

They scattered and fled, running away together like rats, shouting loudly: “Run! The boss is here, Vidocq has brought people here!”

Once Colombert, the leader, was taken care of, the remaining tasks became much easier. We quickly captured five barricades and handed them over to the government forces and the National Guard, their path into Île de la Cité finally cleared.

But to my surprise, these bastards couldn’t handle the suppression properly, and their damn eyesight was poor. Some soldiers mistakenly thought I was a mobster and fired a volley at me. Fortunately, unlike Napoleon’s era soldiers, they weren’t well-trained, so not a single bullet hit me.

The crisis on Île de la Cité was thus resolved, and I was delighted that in such a moment, I did something for the country. But, I was also regretful upon hearing that in the continental area, Saint-Merri Church witnessed a massacre, General Ladet’s soldiers slaughtering everyone while clearing crucial barricades, regardless of age or gender.

I believe my actions should be commended, but this world is what it is. The Republican newspaper “The Tribune” might have been too harsh in evaluating me.

—Why did the great uprising ultimately fail? Why couldn’t the rebellion succeed? Because the government played political tricks, and the police were ruthless and insidious. But fundamentally, it was the betrayal marked on the rebellion’s banner. For some, it symbolizes ugliness, for others, perhaps absurdity. The infamy of Vidocq and his gang’s calm stance, defending the throne, stems from them not sailing under the people’s banner during the storm. Republicans are unwilling to believe that Vidocq played a decisive role in suppressing the uprising. Whenever they think about Louis Philippe’s return to Tuileries Palace, supported by the legendary demon policeman Vidocq, there’s nothing more aggravating to them.

Ha! These Republicans, they don’t mind the uniformed soldiers raising knives against them, but always nitpick about plainclothes policemen like me. I don’t understand, prison might be tough, but isn’t it better that I let you live?

Though many in prison eventually face the death penalty, isn’t that the fault of your Republican leaders, like Lafayette and these figures? Why don’t they defend you? What were they doing when you were causing a commotion?

As far as I know, he seems to have left Paris in a carriage.

Francois Vidocq, July 25, 1832, in Paris.