“We were all glad to get in,” says Victor Hugo.  “I took it much to heart that I had not that morning, when I saw a crowd assembled round the Porte Saint-Martin, shouted ’To arms!’...  The omnibus started.  I was sitting at the end on the left, my friend young Armand was beside me.  As the omnibus moved on, the crowd became more closely packed upon the Boulevard.  When we reached the narrow ascent near the Porte Saint-Martin, a regiment of heavy cavalry met us.  The men were Cuirassiers.  Their horses were in a trot, and their swords were drawn.  All of a sudden the regiment came to a halt.  Something was in their way.  Their halt detained the omnibus.  My heart was stirred.  Close before me, a yard from me, were Frenchmen turned into Mamelukes, citizen-supporters of the Republic transformed into the mercenaries of a Second Empire!  From my seat I could almost put my hand upon them.  I could no longer bear the sight.  I let down the glass, I put my head out of the window, and looked steadily at the close line of armed men.  Then I shouted:  ’Down with Louis Bonaparte!  Those who serve traitors are traitors!’ The nearest soldiers turned their faces towards me, and looked dazed with astonishment.  The rest did not stir.  When I shouted, Armand let down his glass and thrust half his body out of his window, shaking his fist at the soldiers.  He too cried out:  ‘Down with all traitors!’ Our example was contagious.  ’Down with traitors!’ cried my other two friends in the omnibus.  ’Down with the dictator!’ cried a generous young man who sat beside me.  All the passengers in the omnibus, except this young man, seemed to be filled with terror.  ‘Hold your tongues!’ they cried; ’you will have us all massacred.’  The most frightened of them let down his glass and shouted to the soldiers:  ’Vive le Prince Napoleon!  Vive l’empereur!’ The soldiers looked at us in solemn silence.  A mounted policeman menaced us with his drawn sword.  The crowd seemed stupefied....  The soldiers had no orders to act, so nothing came of it.  The regiment started at a gallop, so did the omnibus.  As long as the Cuirassiers were passing, Armand and I, hanging half out of our windows, continued to shout at them, ’Down with the dictator!’”

This foolhardy and melodramatic performance was one of many such scenes, calculated to turn tragedy into farce.

Meantime, from early morning the hall of the representatives had been surrounded by soldiers with mortars and cannon.  As the deputies arrived they were allowed to pass the gates, but were not permitted to enter their chamber.  Their president, or Speaker, M. Dupin, was appealed to.  He said he could do nothing; it was hopeless to resist such a display of force.  At last the representatives, becoming, as the soldiers put it, “noisy and troublesome,” were collared and turned out into the street.  One by one the most excited were arrested.  The remainder decided to go to the High Court of Justice and demand a warrant to depose and arrest the prince president.  But they could not find the judges; they had hidden themselves away.  When at last they succeeded in discovering the place where they were sitting, the police followed closely on their track, and the judges were forced to shut up their court and march off, under a guard of soldiers.