The Parisians, Book XI by Edward Bulwer-lytton

When the news of the disastrous day at Sedan reached Paris, the first effect was that of timid consternation. There were a few cries of _Decheance_! fewer still of _Vive la Republique_ among the motley crowds; but they were faint, and chiefly by ragged _gamins_. A small body repaired to Trochu and offered him the sceptre, which he politely declined. A more important and respectable body -- for it comprised the majority of the _Corps Legislatif_ -- urged Palikao to accept the temporary dictatorship, which the War Minister declined with equal politeness. In both these overtures it was clear that the impulse of the proposers was towards any form of government rather than republican. The _sergens de ville_ were sufficient that day to put down riot. They did make a charge on a mob, which immediately ran away.

The morning of that day the Council of Ten were summoned by Lebeau -- minus only Rameau, who was still too unwell to attend, and the Belgian, not then at Paris; but their place was supplied by the two travelling members, who had been absent from the meeting before recorded. These were conspirators better known in history than those I have before described; professional conspirators -- personages who from their youth upwards had done little else but conspire. Following the discreet plan pursued elsewhere throughout this humble work, I give their names other than they bore. One, a very swarthy and ill-favoured man, between forty and fifty, I call Paul Grimm -- by origin a German, but by rearing and character French; from the hair on his head, staring up rough and ragged as a bramblebush, to the soles of small narrow feet, shod with dainty care, he was a personal coxcomb, and spent all he could spare on his dress.